School's Out for Summer!

Today is the last day of school. Many parents dread this day, but I look forward to the lazy days of summer with my kids. What I do not like is the end of the school year craziness that makes me want to pull my hair out each year. It starts about 4 to 6 weeks before the last day of school and continues until the very end, and sometimes a little beyond.

Those of you groaning know exactly what I'm talking about. The end of the year is filled with band and chorus concerts, school plays, projects, tests, awards ceremonies, end of the year field trips, parties, recitals, sports tournaments, graduations.... the list goes on. This of course requires mom (I know this is a generalization) running around like a chicken with her head cut off planning activities, buying last minute items for classroom parties, frantically searching for white poster board, buying teacher gifts and making cheese platters for receptions. The worst words heard by a mom the last week of school "I forgot to tell you but I need (fill in the blank) by tomorrow."

The end result of all this? One day you just stop volunteering yourself, your cheese platters, and your time. I used to be the "go-to" volunteer mom -- PTO president, classroom parent, event organizer. It sucked the life out of me. For a long time I thrived on it, but once I had a chance to stop for what I thought was a brief period of time, I just never really went back to it. That is not to say that I won't occasionally volunteer, but I don't go out of my way to get involved. I know this makes me sound like a bad mother. Research shows that schools with high levels of parental involvement have higher levels of student success. But my time away from the volunteer craziness these last couple years has given me time to reflect on whether we moms, mainly suburban moms, take this parental involvement thing to an extreme?

Case in point: A couple years ago my son's 3rd grade teacher emailed the room parents to ask for help getting some snack donations. She planned to let the kids go outside on the second to last day of school for some extra recess time and thought it would be nice to have some refreshments while enjoying some generally unstructured time outdoors. A few of the moms got wind of this and wanted to plan activities around this "free" time. By the time all was said and done the moms had planned an hour of t-shirt making, baseball and Popsicles all run in stations with 20 minutes shifts. What was wrong with an hour of free time? Kids are already psyched about the end of the school year and the opportunity to go out and play for an extra hour. They don't need their moms to make it memorable.

Another example: The Junior class at my daughter's high school traditionally sends off the Senior class with a breakfast the morning of graduation. These are very mature, well organized 16 and 17 year olds, capable of organizing a breakfast of bagels and orange juice, right? Of course not! The moms have taken over. The Junior class moms organize a huge breakfast complete with donations from all 350 families. This year the pressure was on to have a breakfast just as spectacular as the one the year before. Nothing like a little competitive spirit to make an event memorable! My daughter, a Junior, did not even know about the breakfast or the tradition. So much for the thought coming from the Juniors themselves. I wonder if the graduating Seniors even noticed the quality of the smorgasborg before them?

I'm not an uncaring, cold mom. I'd dare say I'm the opposite. But as much as I want to be involved in my children's schools, I don't want to take over their school experience. Our kids need our support, but we can't plan each and every memory they will have in school. Most likely their fondest childhood memories will not be the ones we planned. They might remember the time they worked really hard on a project they completed ON THEIR OWN and the good grade they received as a result. Or the teacher who helped them through a tough time. Or the friendships they made. Of course they will also remember the Science Fairs, Cultural Nights and Math Nights organized by they PTO, but they will remember those nights most fondly if mom was not stressed to to the point of exhaustion from the planning to enjoy those nights too.

A Woman's Work ... 1930's take on the woman's role

I love these old movie shorts. I especially love that women "had to face death to bring children into the world". A bit chauvinistic? Perhaps, but if you listen carefully, the clips starts out praising women for the work and skill required for good housekeeping and childcare.

Can we have it all?

This post ended up being a bit longer than I anticipated, so please bear with me. I would love to know your thoughts.

Can women have it all? I've pondered this question too many times to count in my 42 years. As a young girl I wasn't sure. My mother worked full time. She was not a stay-at-home mom. She worked full time because she had to, just as her mother before her. For most of my youth she worked in various unfulfilling jobs. She waited tables, she worked desk jobs for an insurance company -- whatever she could do to bring money into our household. Eventually my parents started their own business and she worked for the family business. This gave her some type of fulfillment despite the stress involved in running a business. She's recently retired and has discovered homemaking. Trust me when I say, this was not something she put a lot of time and effort into when I was young. She seems to enjoy this shift. She searches the Internet for new recipes, bakes cookies, plans social gatherings -- and she seems very fulfilled.

My mother always stressed the importance going to college. In my ongoing psychological analysis of her I believe her lack of a college diploma has been her biggest regret. You see my mother was quite the student in high school. In 1964 she was the class Salutatorian and the winner of the annual "I Dare You" award. But she grew up in a small Midwestern town where work and the ability to support yourself were admired, in some ways much more than college at the time. She attended college briefly, but then moved west to California to work and, like most women of her generation, married at the age of 19. Her life was not without adventure along the way, but she never did get that degree.

I never considered skipping the college route. In true Midwestern fashion, my family didn't really discuss the reasons why I had to go to college, I just knew it was expected. Luckily for me and my mother, I wanted to go and did so without any resistance. During college I thought I could rule the world. There were no limitations. I was sure I would have it all! I would go to grad school, save the nation's educational system, marry Mr. Right, have 2.5 kids and be a role model. What I didn't know is that I might not be able to have it all at the same time. That I might need to reassess what I wanted to have at various points in my life along the way.

I went on to grad school, got married, found a fast paced job with opportunity for advancement and then..... I had my first child. For awhile I worked full-time outside of the home, supported my husband while he finished law school and felt totally overwhelmed with the burdens of motherhood. My mother was not June Cleaver, but I realized soon after my daughter's birth that I secretly wished I had June as my mom growing up! And, more importantly, I wanted to be there for my daughter. As soon as my husband finished law school, I left my job, despite an offer to take a high level position and decided to become a stay-at-home mom.

My years as a stay-at-home mom were challenging. Raising young children is always challenging, regardless of whether you work outside of the home or not. I did it for 10 years and I don't regret it. My kids gained a lot from my time at home. But somewhere along the way, I lost a little bit of myself. I immersed myself in the local parent groups. Became involved in town politics. Served as a Girl Scout leader. Coached soccer. Learned about every type of craft imaginable... But I knew that someday I'd have to go back to work.

At first I was resistant. I didn't want to go from being at home 24/7 to working 60 hours a week. Finding a fulfilling job with "mother's hours" is difficult and I was completely out of the loop in my old profession. I couldn't even get an interview for most jobs. When I did get an interview, the large gap in my resume would always be noticed and I'd be asked if I'd be willing to work whenever the job required, despite the part-time advertisement. In the end I got my real estate license mainly because of the flexibility. I was not alone. A large number of my female colleagues selected real estate and have chosen to stick with it because of the flexibility.

Do I love my job? At times. Do I hate my job? Often. Is it fulfilling? Yes, when I actually get a paycheck (not easy to come by in this economy). But there is a part of me that longs for something else. I'd love to go back to school, but I have a daughter leaving for college in a little more than a year -- I can't afford for both of us to be in school. In terms of finding another career, I look all the time, but this is not the best of times for a career change. Just as my 10 year "mommy gap" made it difficult to find employment, my 6 years as a realtor is making it difficult for me to be taken seriously for more intellectually oriented jobs.

This past weekend, I attended my husband's 15 year law school reunion. I will state up front, I did not really want to go. The thought of hanging out with a bunch of lawyers and their spouses for the weekend sounded like torture. One of the reasons I did not want to go the reunion was a feeling of inadequacy. I was sure that I couldn't compete with the women in his class with their successful law careers and beautifully put together cocktail attire. What would we have in common? Little did I know that we would have a lot in common.

In the end, we had a great time at the reunion. (Maybe I was being a bit too harsh with my initial reaction.) The most interesting part of the weekend was my realization that a large percentage of the women in my husband's class are not working. You may not be shocked by this, but I was. These are very high achieving women. They attended an Ivy League law school after obtaining degrees from some of the most prestigious colleges and universities in the country. Many were on Law Review. One of the women was #2 in the class and received several academic awards at graduation.

The main reason for this phenomenon is children. My husband and I had our first child while he was in law school. Our children are 16 and 12 respectively. Most of his classmates, on the other hand, started having children just a few years ago. They are at the point we were at 10 years ago. I was actually a bit relieved to hear that I was not a freak. Other intelligent women have chosen to leave the work force! But then I began to think about the implications. Is this the norm? Can women have it all? The good news for the law school women? You have a law degree from a top 10 school. The bad news? You may not want to go back to work for several more years and by then your needs and wants might change.

After the reunion dinner I found myself giving advice to a few of the women. I felt like the wise elder reassuring these women that when they were ready to go back to work they could count on their law degree to ease the way all the while wondering where my own life would be headed.

Upon further reflection I wondered is this more common today than 10 or 20 years ago? If so, why? Is it cyclical? Do our daughters always want to be the opposite of their mothers? If so, can women ever feel totally fulfilled. I surely don't have all answers and would love some guidance!

Moving On?

It's tough to admit now, but I voted for John Edwards in the 2008 primary. In 2004 I found him a bit annoying -- too canned, too much of a pretty boy -- but by 2008 I found myself drawn to his populist style. I had convinced myself that he was not another Bill Clinton, despite the similarities. You see, I was never a big Clinton fan, despite my liberal political leanings. I don't trust philandering political types. I know from personal experience, they can lie to your face and you believe every word. By the time you realize that you've been deceived you just end up feeling empty and stupid.

I was just beginning to recover from my John Edwards mistake -- a new administration, a feeling of hope for the future -- when Elizabeth Edwards resurfaced with her Oprah interview. It's been downright painful to watch. What on Earth are they thinking? By "they", I mean John and Elizabeth Edwards and those closest to them. Hasn't the woman suffered enough? Does she have to add public humiliation to her fight with cancer? All to sell books?! I don't want to understand how the entire affair/lying to their constituents episode transpired. I want to move on and so should the Edwards family.

To Elizabeth Edwards: I know you're a strong woman, but let this rest. Take whatever time you have left and enjoy that time with your children, not on talk shows reliving the details of your husband's affair. Your husband betrayed you and you need not be subjected to further humiliation because of his bad behavior.

To John Edwards: Shame on you. For lying those worked tirelessly and devoted their time and money to your campaign. For dragging your family through a campaign that was bound to end badly at a time when they needed you present. AND, finally, for not keeping it in your pants. Yes, affairs are painful and yes, they they humiliating when a spouse has to deal with them in the public arena.

It's time to move on.

"Real" Beauty

I have no idea what's real anymore. People on TV, in magazines, in sports, in the local grocery store. We have become a society so altered by cosmetic surgery, Botox, Restylane and steroids I don't know who's real and who's not. That actress that I so admired for her natural beauty? Botox, tummy tuck and a boob job. That athlete that my son thinks is the greatest? Steroids. The dazzling mom from my daughter's school? Restylane and 5 hours a week in the salon.

Case in point, beauty contests, like them or not, have become plastic surgery contests. Years ago these contests were about poise, grace, intelligence and, yes, also beauty. But now contestants have ribs removed, eye brows lifted, breast enhanced. What are we really judging?

We have become a world of constructed beauty and perfection. It's not enough to have a lovely smile, beautiful eyes or a natural athletic ability, we now have to push all these things to their extreme. Your skin has to be smoother, your tummy tighter, your breasts perkier, you have to run faster, be stronger, look younger..... there is no end to this. You are never going to be good enough. And what messages are we sending to young boys and girls? In some cases we're dragging them into the insanity. Girls getting bikini waxing at age 12. Boys with personal trainers at age 10. What are we thinking?

I'm not opposed to people wanting to look good and strive toward an achievement. I am myself a Type A personality. But at what point do we say "ENOUGH"! The negative long term effects of this obsession with perfection are already evident. Many of our favorite "pretty" actresses don't look so pretty anymore. With their expressionless foreheads and pumped up lips, they look freakish! The athletes we so admired for their achievements have left us feeling disappointed and empty. In the future as we learn more about who did and did not use chemical enhancements, who will remain to honor in our Hall of Fames?

In my perfect world we would take this view on the things that really count. Knowledge, learning, exploring ideas, helping others. If we put half as much energy in improving our performance in these area, who knows what the world might look like. We might not be as "beautiful" but we might be more real.

For The Love of God, Eat Something!

Why do women pick at their food when they eat in public? I find this so frustrating. I went to a luncheon the other day and realized that I was the only one eating my food. Not a huge meal -- a little soup, a green salad with chicken and a small chocolate dessert. I ate every last piece of lettuce on my main course and then noticed I was the only one that ate all my food. The chicken salad was good and the portion was not huge. Then it was time for desert. My friend even said to me, "This is my favorite dessert! This place is know for it." Did anyone eat all their dessert? Of course not. This time I gave into peer pressure and left a bit of my molten chocolate cake on my plate. I went home feeling insecure and hungry!

I enjoy a good meal, especially with good company. My family always mixes food with gatherings, as does the family I married into. I enjoy eating and although I'm not a size 2, I feel comfortable in my own skin. That is until I gather with other women in Suburbia and begin to question everything. My hair, my clothes, my makeup, my body, my eating habits.

After a little time and further reflection I realize that my feelings of inadequacy are ridiculous. I'm happy and healthy and eating the lunch that I paid for is okay. So if you're one of these women that picks at her food in public, please stop! Let's not create yet another generation of girls with eating disorders by modeling unhealthy behavior. Our daughters need to know that they're beautiful they way they are and can enjoy a nice dinner with family or friends without the fear of being judged if they eat with gusto. Yes, we want them to make healthy food choices but what we don't want is for them to be fearful of actually enjoying the food on their plate. So next time you're at a restaurant, take a big bite of your pasta and REALLY enjoy. It's okay. No one is going to gasp in horror at the fact that you're actually eating.

Cat Fight

When intelligent, high profile women choose to make a point by going off subject and attacking another woman's weight, I want to scream. Recently, Meghan McCain, daughter of Senator John McCain, wrote an article for The Daily Beast criticizing Ann Coulter and the extreme right of the Republican Party. In response to this article and a subsequent appearance by McCain on the Rachel Maddow Show, Laura Ingraham attacked McCain on her radio show by referring to her as a "plus size model" and poking fun at her "youthful" manner of speaking. This then escalated when McCain appeared on The View and told Ingraham to "kiss my fat ass".

Why can't we, as women, have reasonable debates without attacking one another's appearance? It does nothing to advance our assertion. Moreover, we aren't taken seriously. You don't hear men making snide comments about their opponent's baldness or girth.

Meghan McCain is not fat and that was the assertion made in Ingraham's comment – despite Ingraham's most recent back-pedaling on the issue. What if she was heavier? What would her weight have to do with any of her views on the Republican Party or Ann Coulter's divisive rantings? What does a woman's weight or beauty have to do with her ability to start an intelligent debate? Does the value of one's perspective lessen with each pound of excess weight?

I'll be honest -- I don't like Ann Coulter. I find her annoying and not particularly intelligent. She makes most of her points by talking over those she debates. Prior to this week's debate, I had no opinion of Meghan McCain. Now? I'm a bit intrigued and willing to hear more of what she has to say. As far as Laura Ingraham is concerned, before this debate, I found her, despite her conservative views, to be tolerable. Most of the time I didn't agree with her, but I was willing to listen to what she had to say. That is until this incident. I'm insulted by her comments about McCain, but I am more insulted by her use of weight as a distraction from the issue at hand.

Yes, Ms. McCain does not have the "experience" of others in the world of political commentary, but she's only 24. This should not be reason in and of itself to dismiss her views. Young women need to be encouraged to put their thoughts out there. Over time, their ideas will evolve and, perhaps, change. What we should NOT do is stifle their opinions in a dismissive manner and make fun of their weight and youth.

Back in High School

Currently on Facebook my friends have been tagging one another with a note comparing their high school lives to their current lives. The questions ask you to compare what you do now to what you did in high school and are generally fun to read. One of the questions though -- If you could go back and do it again, would you? -- always makes me cringe. For many years the thought of going back to high school and doing it all over again made me laugh because the answer would have been a resounding "No way in Hell!" It's not that I had a bad high school experience, but I was not one of the popular girls and always felt like I didn't fit in. Now that I'm older and, perhaps, a bit wiser, I might consider doing it all over again. Mainly because I've since learned that most women felt exactly the same way in high school. But also because living in Suburbia is in many ways like being back in high school.

In Suburbia, like high school, there cliques and belonging to the "popular" crowd is a matter of fitting in. You have to dress the right way, drive the right car, belong to the right organizations, send your kids to the right preschools, etc. When your accepted, it feels great. Women acknowledge you in public, invite you to parties and special gatherings. But, just like high school, when you're not accepted, you're ignored and made fun of. I'll never forget one of my first introductions to this world. Showing up to chaperone a field trip, I did not know a single person. I decided to be proactive and make friends. I went up to the other moms -- most of whom already knew each other -- and tried to get in on the conversation. Not a single person would talk to me. And worse, the conversation centered around tennis and skiing -- two activities I do not participate in. It wanted to leave and considered doing so, until one very nice mom came up to me and smiled. She took pity on me and I thank her for it -- I almost went back home to pack up the family and leave town. During the field trip, I didn't give up. I approached at least 3 of the women and forced them to have a conversation with me, mainly one-on-one. Generally we were more alike than different, but once the field trip was over, the connections were over. Over the years I've seen these women at one time or another and each time I'm once again invisible.

The most maddening aspect of this phenomenon is that one-on-one, most women in Suburbia are pleasant and decent human beings, but when they get into their cliques or they begin to believe the hype about themselves....watch out! Suddenly the claws come out.

So upon further reflection, bring high school on! It might not be so bad the second time around.

Beep! Beep!

"We have become a nation of self-important people."
Tucker Carlson, MSNBC

Tucker and I do not agree on much, particularly when it comes to politics, but I completely agreed with this statement when I heard it. Recently I was driving around a parking lot looking for a parking spot when I came upon a car blocking the flow of traffic. A woman I was acquainted with was putting her child in the car, her husband was driving. She then proceeded to talk with her husband, all the time holding up traffic. At first I was annoyed, the weather was lousy, I was in a bit of a hurry, but I took a deep breath and realized that another 30 seconds wouldn't kill me. But as I was waiting another car came up behind and was not nearly as patient and honked his horn. My acquaintance looked up at me and instantly thought I had honked. She was annoyed, but 1) I didn't do anything and 2) she was holding up the flow of traffic (and taking her time I might add). A minute later, her husband pulled out and the traffic flowed again. End of issue, right? The next day she approached me and asked "Did you know that was ME in the parking lot yesterday?" I explained that I knew it was her, but the car honking was not mine, but as I told her this I couldn't believe she was annoyed at me for her own rudeness! She was holding up traffic, I was sitting in my car waiting patiently. What difference did it make if it was her or someone she considered a nobody?

Are people with more social status allowed to inconvenience others? Sadly, I think the answer is "yes", as a society we allow some people to be rude and act self-absorbed. Look at celebrities. There are different rules for how they're treated and how the average Joe is treated at restaurants, stores, theaters, etc. Celebrities don't have to wait for tables. Us nobodies have to wait, sometimes even when we have a reservation.

The real question is, how do we stop this behavior? How do we get people to realize that their time is NOT more important than the person in front of them? We all have busy lives and we all deserve to be treated with respect, regardless of who we are.

Gym Rats

Women in Suburbia look great. They’re all thin, well dressed and have beautifully coiffed hair. Sometimes it’s downright depressing. You rarely see a woman with real hips and curves, let alone an overweight woman. For a long time I could not figure out their secret, but then I joined a gym.

Let me rewind by saying that prior to taking a full-time job outside the home, I was a stay-at-home mom for 10 years. I felt very fortunate to be able to do this, but it wasn’t without some sacrifice. I had to give up luxuries like nice clothes, manicures, expensive haircuts and gym memberships. I enjoyed exercise, but couldn’t afford to go to a gym and found it hard to find the time to workout on my own with two small kids. Then there was the issue of taking care of my kids. I believed that since I was at home it was my job to take care of them. I rarely passed them off to babysitters. When I did it was never for “me time”. In an attempt to get some exercise I walked, but as I got older it did little to keep the pounds off. Once I went back to work and my kids were older and more self reliant, I realized that I needed to get back into some type of real exercise routine. I decided to take a yoga class and this introduced me to the world of corporate wives and their insane workout routines.

When I say insane, I mean these women workout three,sometimes four, hours a day! Some have nannies at home for their little ones and others bring their kids along to the free babysitting provided for members. Now I will admit, since joining I have become much more of a gym rat. I take classes whenever I can, but it averages out to about 1 hour each day and most of the classes I take are yoga classes. These women are typically not taking yoga, they are taking hardcore cardio classes like kickboxing and spinning and the occasional pilates class (for rock hard abs). They are so intense about their workouts that the gym has had near riots because of the signups required for spinning classes. Spinning, you may or may not know, burns more calories than just about any other workout routine, thus the crazed need to be on that 9:00 am spinning list. Rarely will they be bothered with an exercise class that does not burn calories or sculpt their bodies, regardless of the long-term health benefits.

Over time I learned more and more about these exercise obsessed moms. Beyond the three hour workouts, many of them get Botox, often as a group. (I will admit as I write this, I am violently opposed to injecting poison into anyone’s body for the sake of wrinkle reduction.) Then I also learned about the cosmetic surgery that so many have had. Who knew?

I’m not free of vanity – I want to look good – but at this point in my life being healthy and feeling good is much more important than trying to look young forever. I now take great pride in my imperfect, 41 year old body because despite the fact that it’s not a size two, it’s healthy and free of botulism.

My Brilliant Child

Why do so many suburban parents think their children are brilliant and getting ripped off by their local schools? It’s not that I don’t believe that their children are smart. They should be! They have access to so many educational resources – more than most kids. Their kids spend their days AND nights going from one stimulating activity to the next. I also don’t take issue with parents advocating for their children, but at a certain point, you have to realize that your kids are very fortunate.

My local public schools are, in my opinion, wonderful. Are they perfect? No. There have been times when I've disliked a teacher, a classroom or even a school. I have, on occasion, complained about something or made a suggestion to a teacher about an issue I felt strongly about. But generally speaking – I believe my children are receiving a top-notch education. I am constantly amazed by what my children are learning – Algebra in elementary school, Kafka and Aristotle in high school. So often though, I hear complaints from parents about their child not receiving the education they deserve because they are so much smarter than the other kids. I hear comments like, “Jimmy is soooo bored in class” or “Betty finds her schoolwork much too easy” or, my personal favorite, “I am so upset that the school doesn’t have a gifted program” because, of course, their child would be an instant candidate for such a program.

Let’s put this all in perspective. Throughout the world and in some parts of this country children have to attend substandard schools. To become enlightened on this issue read Three Cups of Tea – many villages in countries around the world do not have the resources to build real schools with real teachers. In other countries, children cannot attend school unless they can afford a school uniform and books. This is a problem for a child with no money and/or parents no longer living because of war or HIV. Saddest of all, some children don’t get to be children at all. I’m talking about the children sold into prostitution, forced to work in toy and rug factories or turned into soldiers of war.

Brilliance shines through even without a gifted program. I’ve heard so many stories of incredibly intelligent individuals whose thirst for knowledge or natural brilliance pushed them on to excellence despite their local schools, not because of them. They lived at their local library, were inspired by an adult who believed in them or walked 5 miles to school in their African village. Their parents, if present in their lives, didn’t have the luxury of complaining to their local school board.

As I mentioned before, I’ve been less than thrilled with a teacher now and then, but at some point you have to tough it out and be thankful – very thankful – when you have access to a top ranked public school system.

Who's that foreign exchange student?

I often feel like a misfit. My current situation, in an upscale New England suburb is only one in a long line of situations that make me wonder where I fit in. I was born in Greece but moved to Iowa when I was school age. What, pray tell, would possess anyone to transplant their family to Iowa? Good question, but of course there is reasonable explanation. My father is Greek, my mother, well.... my mother is a Midwestern WASP(for lack of a better description – think Chuck Grassely, the senator from Iowa), thus the family connection and roots. People all over the world want to live the “American Dream” and to a Greek, like my father, Iowa was as good a place as any to try.

My life growing up wasn't terrible, just unique. Although I often felt like everyone else, situations would pop up to remind me of how different I was. First there was my last name. It was long, even by Greek standards. My first realization that I was different was 2nd grade. I could not for the life of me learn how to spell my own last name! My teacher become so frustrated with me, she wrote it out on a piece of paper, laminated it and taped it to my desk. It worked, but I was mortified. No one else had their name taped to the top of their desk.

The other issue was my Mediterranean looks. If you've never been to Iowa, the first thing you notice as soon as you step off the plane is that half the population is blond. I am not blond or blue eyed. I am, by most Midwestern standards, exotic looking, despite the facts that (1) I don't look typically Greek (at least to another Greek) and (2) I look very much like my WASP mother, expect for the darker features. I always got the ethnic roles in high school plays. One year I was Liat in South Pacific, the next year I was Rose Alvarez in Bye, Bye Birdie. I also never ever felt “beautiful”. I thought my exotic looks and curvy shape were a curse. I wanted blond hair, blue eyes and a boyish figure like all my friends.

Another time, again in high school, I was approached by a boy from another school at a basketball game. He wanted to introduce me to the foreign exchange student as his school. The exchange student, we'll call him Jan, was Swedish. I said “thanks” for the introduction but was confused as to why I was being introduced. The boy said he thought we'd have a lot in common since I too was an exchange student. I was in shock! At the time I didn't have an accent and had lived in my hometown since the age of 8! But I looked like an exchange student. How else could someone like ME end up in such a white bread community if not by the sheer gratitude of a family hosting me there?

Fast forward 25 or so years: I am married and no longer have to deal with the ridiculously long last name and I've come to terms with my body, my hair, my eyes. I no longer long for those WASPy features - I'm okay, if not thankful, for who I am. Also, the state of Iowa has radically changed. Since my leaving in the early 90s, the state has experienced an influx of immigrants searching for the “American Dream”, much like my own father. Let us not forget that it was Iowans who set Barack Obama on a serious course to the Presidency by giving him a caucus victory. You'd think the people in the state would be more enlightened, if not at least a little more accustomed to the larger world beyond their borders. I thought so too until very recently when my sister had a conversation with someone inquiring about her last name. This person wondered if she might be related to someone with the same last name who was a foreign exchange student in her high school. My sister's curiosity was peaked – our name is very rare, we must be related to this person! I think she was actually excited to find a long lost relative. With some probing my sister discovered that the exchange student she was referring to was.............. none other than one of us, or perhaps the two of us morphed into one! My sister and I had gone from being a bit of an oddity in our hometown to one person, to small town myth.

Lucky Pooch!

I currently reside in a very nice suburban community near Boston. The town is beautiful and has wonderful schools – thus the move to the suburbs. I feel fortunate to live in such a place, but there are times that I want to grab the person in front of me and shake them! The life in towns such as mine sometimes borders on the ridiculous. I find myself wondering if my fellow suburbanites realize that most of the country, let alone the world, does NOT live the lifestyle to which we are accustomed. Sometimes they seem overly concerned about whether their brilliant child is being “challenged” enough in school to realize that kids in some parts of the world don't even have a school in their village. I realize that everything is relevant, but sometimes the concerns of the average suburbanite are absurd.

Case in point – I recently attended a social gathering where the discussion turned to dog food. Not the type you buy, but rather what type of human food you could safely give to Fido without endangering his long-term health. One woman was concerned about feeding dogs the food that we corrupt with all our seasonings, chemicals etc. She was quite adamant about this and considered feeding a dog human food the equivalent of a death sentence. A second woman was quick to point out that she cooks her dog his own steak each day to make sure that it's pure and unadulterated. Yes, she cooks her family meal and then makes Fido a steak. Others chimed in about the special, yet healthy, treats they cooked for their beloved dogs. This went on for a good 15 minutes. I wanted to laugh out loud! Were the people around me really having this discussion? At the time of this “debate” we were smack dab in the middle of an economic crisis, still knee deep in two wars and were about to inaugurate the country's first African American president – it seemed as if there might be better things to debate. Never mind that no one seemed concerned about the long-term health problems associated with feeding this corrupted food to their human family members.