Things I have learned from working in Manhattan:

1. Walk with purpose. Streets near main commuter hubs, all over NJ Transit, and metro stations are filled with people trying to get somewhere. This isn't the time of place to stroll, walk 5 across, and sight see. 

2. Walk in a straight line. For every person you are trying to pass, there is at least someone trying to pass you. Keep your course as direct as possible to avoid trips, collisions, and dirty looks. 

3. Look up. Get off your phone, tablet, or whatever. You're annoying and see #s 1 and 2. 


4. No one has patience for your suitcase or rolley bag. I'm sorry.  Again, see #1 and 2. 

5. Yes - commuter shoes are unflattering and unsexy but they get you from point A to B a helluva lot faster. I keep dress shoes in my desk drawer so I don't have to do as much schlepping. 

6. Keep a medicine cabinet in your desk. After I was hired I went to cvs and stocked up on everything from Aleve to feminine hygiene products. You never know and since you are spending much of your time at work, you will probably use it. 

7.  Similar to #6 get snacks. It is much cheaper, healthier, and effective to bring snacks from home than run out or to a vending machine every time hunger strikes. 

8. Always look for new routes. The other day I discovered the C train. If you are a seasoned NYC commuter this is probably not a big deal, but it is so much less crowded than the A and the 1 and takes me to the same place. Where have you been all my life, C? Look to see where other people are going - why are crowds where they are? How do I make sure I come through that exit? These small finds can save a lot of hassle. 

9. Even if you don't go out to eat, go out to lunch. Because the city is an expensive place, I bring my lunch to work every day but I still try and take advantage of the time and step out of the office. Depending on your location, you can run errands rather than save them for the weekend or just walk around the block. Although the tasks seem mundane, it still breaks up your day and gets you away from the computer. I am fortunate enough to work in Columbus Circle so even on cold days, I can walk through the mall and window shop.

10. Still make "you" time. I have a long day - probably 11 hours out of the house from door-to-door. I come home to a fabulous husband and son, and between 6:30 and 8 - we dine, clean up, bath, play, and put our little man to bed. Its a little bit of a whirlwind but it works and my husband and I have our time together from about 8 to 10pm. Although this second part isn't for everyone, I also get up at 5:10am to workout and shower. I call it "negative time" because both of my men are still asleep, I have the time to myself, but I'm not taking away from any bonding time with my family. 

11. Treat yourself. Although lunch in the city can be costly, you can still go out from time to time and try a new place, buy coffee instead of relying on the office supply, or find a little shop and get yourself or a friend a little something. The other day I got my nails done and it just make my day a little nicer. 

12. An escalator can never be broken - it just becomes steps - and that makes me happy. For the most part, people walking up steps move faster than people gliding up an escalator. Unless you are the unfortunate soul with a suitcase (see #4), everyone's morning commute has been cut a little shorter because of this malfunction. 

13. Hug the walls. When you are walking from point A to B - whether it is in the subway terminals, the side walk, or the stairs - the closer you are to the side, the less people should be in your way. I am still conducting research on this study, but so far I have had more success on the sidelines than up the middle.
14. Being a petite female has proven to be advantageous.
       a) people are willing to give you that last bit of space in the crowded subway. Otherwise, you are like the people who missed the Titanic life boats, staring sadly as the doors close and train sails away.
      b) you become an excellent bobber and weaver, allowing you to make it through the crowds a little bit faster
     c) petite people are awesome


15. Remember why you are working in Manhattan. The least favorite part of my commute - well there are a few - but one is when everyone piles out of the train and trudges up the steps to Penn Station. I feel like a cow being herded and think "am I going to do this until I am 60?" Maybe I will, maybe I won't but I keep my family in mind and the trips we can go on, the healthcare and benefits we have, and that I have a job that allows me to even think about retiring. I work so my family can be comfortable and my son can have the life we vision for him - and I am lucky enough to be going to a good place once I get out of the herd and into my office. 

Resolve Not to Resolve

Oh, the dreaded but much anticipated New Year's Resolution. We vow to lose weight, eat better, run more, be nicer, and pay it forward. And we do it - for about three weeks.

On January 2nd through - maybe - mid-February the local gym is bustling with new comers.  When I am there, at 5:30 am (boo. hiss.), I see the gym population double with new faces. Some are confused, some are determined, most are tired - but all resolved to make 2014 the skinniest, healthiest, fittest year yet! With trepidation, some approach the treadmill while others have enlisted the assistance and expertise of a trainer during these early days (and earlier mornings).  Even, the gym itself sponsors a program to help us all lose those extra pounds put on during the holidays, but it is specifically geared towards those January newcomers.

But then something happens. It is called February....

February not only brings with it cold weather, snow, and frosted windshields but it also brings a sporting event that restocks your fridge with fried goodness right after you have purged the last of the fruit cake and eggnog. Yes, I am talking about you Superbowl! You come and knock us off the wagon so soon into our fitness mission. A different article for a different day,  but having the game on a Sunday night has those of us on Eastern Standard Time staying up late on a "school night" and binging on beer, burgers, and wings later into the night than usual. Monday the alarm goes off,  we skip the gym, swear we will go Tuesday, but that one missed Monday can often be the beginning of the end. Tuesday becomes Wednesday, Wednesday to Thursday and then we say, this week was a bust - I'll start again next Monday.

Last year I made a resolution to drink more water. At the close of 2012 I bought myself a 64 ounce water bottle while waiting to check out at TJ Maxx (darn it, impulse buy!) and made a sweeping declaration to my husband and 2 month old son that I was going to drink two of these a day for a year.  Like the gym goers, I started off strong. Finishing off the rest of my maternity  leave happily hydrated and once back at work - I was fortunate to have an office near the water cooler. But then, like the gym goers and dieters, things happened. First toting the water bottle plus lap top plus lunch into the city got annoying so I started leaving it at home, then I lost the lid somewhere so it wasn't portable anymore, and then I forgot the resolution all together.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we feel the need to change the 2013 version of ourselves when it couldn't have been all that bad? Why do we pick the first day of the New Year when there are clearly hangovers to recover from and still leftovers to eat? Of course, we can stay this day is the first day of the rest of our lives - but I think forcing it  to be on January 1st with the rest of the pack is a lot of pressure. This year I say we resolve not to resolve. We resolve to love and appreciate the person that we were the year before and continue to be that wonderful person in the next year and years to come. When you read this, look in the mirror and say, "Hey! I'm pretty awesome and will stay just as awesome in 2014! THAT is my resolution!"

My Close Relationship with Halloween

I have always felt a close, personal connection with Halloween. Aside from it being my birthday (the best possible day to be born, if you ask me), it is the one time of the year where you can be someone or something else. Ignoring what happens to Halloween costumes at the collegiate level (Black boy shorts, a little tank top, and cat ears), Halloween in elementary school is nothing short of awesome!

Whether you and your friends dressed as the Little Rascals, you and a playmate were Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, or you were your favorite super hero, there was always a sense of pride marching in your school's parade flaunting your alter ego.

Growing up, class-moms would deliver ghostly cupcakes, popcorn balls, and various "potions" to the classroom after lunch. We would play themed games, talk about our costumes, have contests, and learn a little about Halloween. It was a free afternoon to play and take some time off from long division and memorizing state capitals.

Times, however, are a'changin'. A friend of mine teaches in Northern New Jersey and because of the food allergy epidemic, Halloween candy is off the table, literally. Similarly other schools, because of the obesity situation in this country, require treats to be healthy. I'm not sure about you but I think carrots on Halloween are about as exciting as the old lady that gives out pennies.

Although a little old, an article written by Dennis Byrne in 2009 for www.chicagonow.com, mentioned that many schools are replacing "Halloween" with "Fall Festivals" because of the negative connotations associated with the name and the pagan celebration. He adds that 66% of adults do not agree with the name change while 15% are not sure. Just last year, Halloween was banned in Isaac Preschool on Phoenix, AZ because they wanted to "keep the focus on learning". The year before Ithaca, NY canceled their Halloween parade because it excluded students of diverse backgrounds and in Massachusetts they not only sassed Halloween but warned teachers to "be careful" about celebrating Thanksgiving and Columbus Day (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/31/arizona-parent-jason-bake_n_2049756.html).
Maybe this will cause a rise out of some readers but c'mon man! 

Trick or Treating has changed from roaming the towns with a pack of friends and pillow cases to "organized play" and trips to the mall, walking from store to store. A fact that makes me very sad. No, I am not naive enough to think we live in a world of sunshine and lollipops where my son should wander on his own, ringing doorbells of strangers at all hours, but I do feel that my town, as a community, has more good eggs than rotten and can celebrate the holiday as we did in the days of 'ole when gas was only 99 cents a gallon and cell phones only made phone calls.

Happy First Birthday!

My dad told me that one doesn't realize how fast time passes until he or she has a child.

Truer words have never been spoken.

As the news relives Hurricane Sandy, I have been reliving the past year with Austin. I remember the weird labor/not labor pains that Sunday morning, my emotions in the delivery room, and the joyous aftermath of holding my little man. Then I blinked - and here he is, one year old!

Courtesy of cakeartistcafe.com

Planning a first birthday is kind of an odd thing since the guest of honor could probably care less whether or not you go for the vodka penne or the linguine with marina sauce. He is indifferent to the Halloween theme, his presents (actually he was very into the wrapping paper), or the shape and style of his cake. On the other hand, his mother is all over the internet trying to find fun looking appetizers, scouring the Christmas Tree Store for bargain plates and decorations, soliciting her dad's near perfect handwriting to make labels, and ordering her husband to do menial tasks that have been festering for months (like taking a homemade birdhouse out of our bathroom). Also my family likes to conceive in February so in addition to Austin, my cousin shares his birthday on the 28th, her husband is the 24th, I am the 31st, and my husband follows shortly behind us on November 13th. Although I have accepted the fact that my birthday is no longer significant, I wanted to at least acknowledge all the other aging Scorpios in the house without drawing attention away for my son.

Like any event, once the party began - all was right with the world and if the plates specifically bought for the cake went unused - then let that be the worst of my life's problems. For our costumes, I wanted something we could host in, be comfortable, and didn't cost a fortune. DJ, the excellent sport that he is, tolerate the whole scene and looked just fantastic as Popeye!




At the end of the day, despite his distaste for his sailor hat, our Austin made the perfect Swee' Pea to our Popeye and Olive Oil, enjoyed every bit of his cake, and smiled ear to eat as we sang Happy Birthday to him.

Before you have a little person, you don't think about things like timing a birthday cake around someone's nap, finding a onsie that suits your Halloween costume needs perfectly, or making sure every moment of a party is captured on film.

My Son is going to be 1!

Yesterday we celebrated my son's 11 month birthday. 11 months! I couldn't believe it. It addition to being shocked and amazed at the quickness of time, I realized I was in the final weeks of first birthday preparations. To keep up with the First Birthday Jones', so to speak, I was all over Etsy trying to find the most wonderful first birthday invite (check!), scoured the internet and my town in search of a caterer (check - with a side of sticker shock), and spent yesterday turning parts of my home into a kid friendly, birthday appropriate Halloween Haven (trial and error check!).

Although most of my friends consider Facebook Event invitations suitable and "we'll try to make it" a decent RSVP, I feel sending out actual printed invitations is indicative of four things.
1) This is a real event, not college party,
2) RSVP means RSVP - no probablys, we'll sees, or I'll let you know that week,
3) the names written on the invitation are the expected guests - don't bring your buddy because he is in town, see #1.
4) The start time is the start time - If you are going to be late, fine  but if you come at 5pm - well I will probably be napping.

I wrote in the past about the Lost Art of Excuse Me but I think there is also the Lost Courtesy of RSVP. Between Evites, Facebook, and mass emails - it is hard to keep up etiquette. Personally, I RSVP to everything and then check in to make sure said RSVP has been received but my husband takes more of the laissez-faire approach and wings it. Not cool. 

With all of this said I am constantly checking and rechecking my guest list, texting to make sure all of the invites reached their destinations, and itching for the RSVP date so I can properly stalk the MIA's and see what their plans are. Is this normal? Call it Type A personality, but I feel it most certainly is.

Because Austin is the first grandchild and his father and I are the only makers of grandchildren (as we are both only children), I feel this birthday party has taken on a life of its own. First of all, Austin is having two of them - one in New Jersey and one in Maryland  to accommodate all possible guests. Both have their respective cake, favors, and theme -because without a theme - what kind of parents would we be? Both  include guests with overnight requests, special diets, young children, and personal squabbles and both will include presents.Not that I have anything against gifts, but really - all I want is wipes, diapers, and baby food. The past few days Austin has had more fun playing with the laundry basket than anything that sings, blinks, squeaks, or twinkles.

I won't forget to remember you

Last night Austin was up at 4:22 for some reason. When I checked on him, he had his binky, he wasn't wet - he was just awake. Leaning over the crib, I rubbed his head to calm him down, restarted his mobile but no dice, so I scooped him up and carried him over to his recliner. He was asleep instantly. For a brief moment, I thought about carrying him back to his crib, but then realized I may not have too many more months of this. Unlike my husband, I am not wide in the chest and broad in the shoulders. At almost 11 months, Austin pretty much covers my torso when he lays on my chest and there are only so many positions for him to get comfortable. In any event, I thought I would savor the moment and stay with him in the chair.

September 2013

While he slept, I thought about all of the things DJ and I have done for him so far. Whether it is crawling around with him on the floor, playing fort, or making sure he gets a good night sleep, we are constantly showing him that he is loved. These are things my parents did for me to but I was too little to remember them. Things that I unknowingly took for granted because I didn't know what was happening but, I am guessing, I liked it. I don't know when Austin will have his first memory but I want him to know all the things that happened before that memory came to be. Similarly, I don't want to forget how he is now, his quirks, his habits, his personality. 

I said to DJ the other day that I wished Austin could know us now. Know how we revolved our days about his schedule, waved "hi" and "bye" incessantly in hopes he would pick up on it, made ridiculous sounds to see him laugh, danced with him in the kitchen, and experimented with different food combinations in his baby bullet. I want him to know how funny we are, how hard we tried, and how much he taught us in these first 11 months. I also want him to know that no matter now big he gets, he will never be too big to fall asleep on my lap. 

Donut Day

 Although National Donut Day is a different day of the year, my family has our own Donut Day. August 17th was my Nana's birthday and even if her latest stages of dimentia she knew that she wanted donuts as a birthday breakfast. This wasn't always the case, but as she aged we would all meet at her extended care facility's courtyard with a 12 pack of Dunkin and Box of Joe and celebrate with our matriarch.

Austin enjoying his first Donut Day 

At 4'11 inches my Nana was a one of a kind. Her refrigerator was always stocked with Jell-o and each time we left her house, she should always slip us a $10 or a $20 for "ice cream" or "something nice". She made the best meals, had the best basement to play in, and could be found watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune nightly. I remember growing out of a pair of snow boots and giving them to Nana as a hand-me-down. In return I got a coat that was a little to big. I was one of few 6th graders who could swap clothes with her Nana.

After she passed away, we decided to continue the tradition. The one day of the year where low-carb, low-fat, paleo, clean eating, or whatever the diet-of -the-day was was pushed aside and donuts reigned supreme. Inspired by my pear tart success the other day, I decided to bake my own donuts.


Do I dare call what lies below a recipe? No - because although I list four ingredients, there is no mixing and no measuring. It is pure idiot-proof bliss.

What you'll Need:
Pilsbury's Grand! Biscuits
Cinnamon
Sugar
Vegetable Oil


Step 1: Line a cookie tray with parchment paper or (if you are fancy like us) one of those baking sheets and preheat your oven to 425*F
Step 2 : Open a can of Pilsbury Grands! Biscuits. We used the honey flavored one
Step 3: Lay the biscuits out on the cookie sheet and using the lid from your vegetable oil container, punch out donut holes.
Separate and lay your "munchkins" alongside your donuts.
Step 4: Lighly coat all sides with vegetable oil
Step 5. Bake for 7 minutes
Step 6: Top your donuts in cinnamon and sugar (I eye-balled the amount in a bowl, blended, and added more as needed).

This recipe was borrowed from the following link and she coats hers with icing - a taste far to advanced for us: Easy Baked Donuts