Lucky Me

This is my man.

My baby daddy.

Here he is winking at me, sitting in a bay-side bar in one of our favorite spots.

He's probably had a few Bud Lights and is clearly wearing a couple days' scruff.

I love it. And him.

Lucky.

Here

Soon I will be here. My soul reviver. My happy place. My beach. 

Exhale.

We drank the kool-aid (a.k.a. the week I became a Disney ambassador)

We recently spent the happiest week of our lives at the happiest place on Earth.

What a big statement. It surprises even me. But it's true.

Mickey knows how to pull the same strings Santa does, apparently. He left these bags in the boys' rooms. When they woke up it was time to go.

Disney kept commanding that we let the memories begin and so we obliged. Then they rushed in. And they started flooding.

Brothers loved on each other. Why not? There was just this abundance of love to go around. Seriously, Disney!

How do you do this, Disney? This voo doo that you do, so well?

My spirited boy was spirited in all the right ways.

My reserved baby made new friends.

No detail was overlooked.

We will be back. Again and again.

And again.

A Day in Americana

Today I stretched my legs out in plush grass under a shady tree in the middle of picturesque Small Town U.S.A., a place where the suburbs are corn fields. I leaned back on my hands and looked up to find not one cloud in the blue sky.

My ears were full of melodic patriotism blaring from bull horns dotting a small town square, and a speaker system propped up on an empty portable outdoor stage in front of the local bakery.

I watched my kids hand tickets to the kind of ride operators who spend their summers driving short highways between small towns, towing carnival parts behind them. They claimed their seats on rickety metal Ferris wheels and homemade barrel trains. They rode over and over for what seemed like forever, waving to us excitedly every now and again when their eyes caught ours. They worked up a sweat in the bounce house, where wee ones placed their sacrificial shoes at the entry – an homage to the gods of inflated plastic and generators. Across the town square I noticed a dunk tank with an excited crowd gathered around. On the other side, a bean bag toss.

Today I sat on a curb for nearly two hours watching a parade, comprised of what was clearly the pride of Small Town U.S.A., weave its way through rows of lawn chairs and parked strollers. I watched sweaty politicians in button-down shirts shake hands with old folks in the crowd while kids scrambled to catch candy tossed their way by clowns and volunteer high schoolers. Between homemade floats came herds of tractors, different models and colors, all manned by resilient, wrinkled men who oozed hard work.

We waved at local firemen and small business owners, sports teams and civic clubs. I chuckled to myself at the irony of the town’s historical society inviting people to “like us on Facebook!”

Today we stood in honor of the vets as they marched past us holding flags. I looked at their faces and wondered where they had been, what they had seen, if they were perhaps looking back at us thinking that we just.don’t.understand. I silently thanked them for seeing what I don’t have to see.

Today my kids ate corn dogs on sticks with a side of root beer float. They shared a tire swing with their cousins and stopped running/crawling/skipping/jumping among a wooden park maze only long enough to shake stray mulch out of their shoes.

Today was full of big times in a small town. A day spent exactly how I wanted to with the people I most wanted to see in America’s quaintest place.

Made possible by the freedom that we gathered there to celebrate.

Night-Before Needs

The night before a business trip there are so many things we need to do to get through today and prepare for tomorrow.

I need to make a list.

One Hawklet needs a bath. The other needs a shower. They remind us they both need their own thing occasionally, even though most of the time they just need to be together.

I need to start packing, need to gather clothes, need to think about what must be accomplished - and what I'll need to wear doing it - for the next four days.

I need to decipher if I've forgotten anything... if the team is set... if we're all set up for success.

I need to tell Hubby about the things to remember and appointments to keep in my absence. (He needs me to stop reminding him to not forget.)

We need to figure out what everyone will take to school for show-and-tell that starts with a "D."

Simultaneously little wet Hawklets wrapped in towels need pjs and stories.

They need to brush teeth and understand what will be different about their routine for the next few days.

I need to put down the iPhone and laptop and focus on gathering us all up into the cushiony chair that rocks to read and talk for a bit.

I need a mommy time-out with my boys.

Because I want to stay here forever.

A million

"I am a million sad to leave the beach," he said when we were packing the car,

headed to the airport with sand in our shoes and shells in a baggie.

I told my little man that I was, too.

But pictures like this one - my favorite boys in one of my favorite places - will keep me a million happy until next year's trip.

I've been busy...

Yes, I realize that I posted about having more time and then disappeared. Surprisingly (ahem), I found a way to fill that time. You see, I found a little hut on a beach where 'multi-tasking' doesn't have a Spanish translation and cool breezes blow and books that I choose beg to be read.

And the view out from the little hut looks like this:

And drinks are sipped from this little bar here:

So, Anonymous, now you know.

Take your target off of my child

Recently I had the pleasure of attending a seminar featuring the Chairman of Disney Consumer Products, Andy Mooney. Mooney shared insights that drive his business, one of the four divisions of the overarching Disney brand. In other words, he is one of those people I listen to and excitedly think, “I need to work for [INSERT THE PERSON’S BIG BRAND HERE]!!” But I digress.

Mooney shared several behind-the-curtain insights, which you might have noticed that day if you follow me on Twitter but one thing he said about Disney’s targeting particularly stood out to me and is still bouncing around in both the personal and professional sides of my brain like a little brain gnat that can’t do much damage but at the same time completely annoys me.

When asked who are Disney’s target audience or audiences, what do you think Mooney’s response was? Moms of kids within a certain age, right?

Nope, his first mention was girls ages 2 to 10, followed by boys slightly younger.

Not the moms… the kids.

This is not to say moms aren’t a consumer target for Disney, clearly Disney focuses on multiple target audiences including moms and its Disney Moms panel for the theme parks is a great example of that. But there is an audience prioritization going on. And our kids are in the bullseye. The marketers’ first thought, their first mention.

It’s not right or wrong. Clearly it’s working for Mooney. But here are several reasons why I can’t get this comment out of my mind:

1. Mooney pointed to young children first – children likely too young to even have an allowance – as Disney’s primary target. Typically when we talk about targets, we are referring to consumers. Consumers by definition spend money. Does your young child do his or her own shopping, or do you shop for your child? Who is in charge?
2. Mooney’s comment also tells me that Disney likely buys into the concept of nagging. I don’t want to think that Disney wants to wear me down to a ‘giving in’ point to get me to buy something my kids want. Rather, I want to know that Disney wants to build me up to get me to do the same behavior – to market to me directly and make me feel that if I gift my child with some Disney product I will be a better mom with happier, smarter, better-adjusted children.
3. Mooney revealed that Disney looks at girls first and boys second. It’s no surprise that Disney is known for princesses and Cinderella’s castle. But boys love to be entertained just as much as girls do, and I still haven’t grasped the reasons why both genders aren’t equal opportunity customers for the Disney brand. I don’t tell my boys they can’t like pink, but the bottom line is they don’t want to play with princesses.
4. As the mother of two children in this age range, the idea that there are strategy meetings going on to determine how to get my children to act a certain way makes my mama bear radar go up. Target me, that’s fine. I welcome brand engagement as the owner of the purse strings. I know what strategies are being put together around moms as consumers. But target my children with such strategies? Something feels icky about it.

Is it okay with you for a brand to target your kids, instead of you as the purchaser for your kids?

Love It, Hate It

Have you ever heard something that is catch-your-breath sweet and at the same time a punch in the gut?

Can anything do that quite like two little voices on the other end of a cell phone when they say this to a traveling-on-business-again mommy:

"Mommy will you come and cuddle with us before we go to bed?"

Aww. And ugh.

Where have we been?!? Here's your answer

I think about a year ago at this time I was apologizing for my lack of posting. There's something about this time of year, the blend of summer into fall, that kicks me in the mom jeans and reminds me that I take on too much. And then I laugh and shrug it off and take on more because I thrive on having just a little more on my plate than I can handle. I come up for air every few weeks or so and tell Hubby Hawks that I just want to be a stay-at-home mom and he responds, "No you don't," and I say, "You're right, I don't," and dig back in.

It's that time again. Let's call it my annual apology. But the truth is, in the past several weeks life has caught up with me.

But two weeks ago, I took a chance to catch up with my life. In other words, we enjoyed a whole week of vacation. An unplugged vacation at that. No laptop (except one night of finance homework! Dear God, I'm taking finance!), no phone calls, no e-mail or blogging (though I admit I allowed myself a once-a-day glance at Twitter and Facebook, okay, there, are you happy?).

We went to one of my favorite places in the world - the family beach house that five generations of my mom's family have now enjoyed. And what exactly did we do? Allow me to explain...

We took turns flying airplanes...

We learned about people rescuing injured sea turtles...

We ran... we ran a lot...




Until we fell down every once in a while and posed...

And then got back up again and kept running...

And jumped. We jumped up and down and over waves and laughed as we jumped...

And we focused on what really matters.

Apology accepted?

Thank goodness for traveling grandmas

Hubby Hawks and I are thinking about how to spend our vacation time for the year -- where to go, whether or not to bring the kids, how long we might be able to stand to be away from them. Every vacation we've taken since having the boys has involved my mother who is gracious enough to come along and help out so we can enjoy some sense of "vacation" while on vacation. Is this a common occurance? How does anyone travel with kids (sans grandma) and truly relax?

In March, a national survey conducted by Synovate showed two-thirds of moms say “yes” more often to their kids while on vacation. The survey showed that once at the vacation destination, it’s kids who are “calling the shots,” especially when it comes to indulgences like extra pool time, eating more sweets and sleeping in later. The survey also pointed to a shared interest in cruising by parent and child. Moms and kids alike chose cruising as their second vacation destination of choice, preceded by Orlando. But to today’s multi-minding moms, who are mentally juggling work, home and self-care needs more than ever before (and have 20% more on their mind at once than do their male counterparts), deciding whether to bring the kids along can be a roadblock. Is vacationing with the kids really a vacation? Is there guilt involved in leaving them behind? Nearly one in three parents has never vacationed without their children, according to another 2008 survey commissioned by Kayak.com. The findings should be a call to vacation marketers that moms need to know more about kid-friendly vacation options that allow parents to truly “vacation,” guilt-free, but that also provide opportunities for kids to let loose. In the Synovate survey, Moms’ top reasons for taking their children on vacation included: to provide new experiences (79%); to relax and have fun (66%); to get away from the stress of work, school and home (63%); and to spend one-on-one time with them (44%). It's a fine line and tough decision. I miss my kids during the workday when I can't be with them. At the same time, when I've got days off, I want to relax...but with my family. Is it possible to have the best of both worlds?