Jay Leno and me…We go way back

Tonight is Jay Leno’s final night of hosting The Tonight Show. Twenty-two years. As I start writing this post, I see it is nearing 11:30 on the East Coast. In honor of this occasion, I am going to tell you about my connection to Jay. This is something that I haven’t ever written about. Tonight seems the perfect time. So heeeeere’s my story! (Yeah, I know, wrong host. But Johnny passed the helm to Jay. Ok?)

The year was 1979. Maybe 1978, but I’m pretty sure it was 1979. I was down at the office of my elementary school, Bancroft School in Andover, MA. Mrs. Halbach, the school secretary asked me to take a man, who had just walked in, “up to your loft.” We called our grades “lofts” because they were large open classrooms…Like lofts. Our school was a really cool building. It looked like a modernist castle. Unfortunately, it wasn’t well suited to New England winters and the build up of snow caused the roof to leak in many, many places. As a result, there were a lot of construction workers around during that school year getting ready for a re-engineering project. I was sure the guy I was showing up to my loft was someone involved with the work. He had jeans and a plaid shirt on. I had him figured out. So up we went, I don’t think we talked. I brought him to Mr. Spencer, one of our teachers. All of us kids were called to the center of the loft and we sat on the floor.

Mr. Spencer proceeded to introduce this guy. He said, “This is my friend Jay Leno.” None of us knew who he was. But we soon learned that that he was “on TV” and lived in LA. He grew up in our town, Andover, MA and went to school with Mr. Spencer. He called Mr. Spencer “Billy” and we all thought that was a riot! This guy, Jay Leno, told us about himself, talked about growing up in our town and that his parents lived here. He answered lots of questions. Of course we all wanted to know when we could see him on TV. I can remember exactly what he told us, because I wrote it down and saved the paper for a long time. I’m sure that scrap of paper is still in with my stuff in my parent’s house. I wrote down, “Silver Bears,” Albert, “American Hotwax” and “Hollywood Squares” with two dates that coming July. Jay said he was in the movie “The Silver Bears” playing Albert, the movie “American Hotwax” and would be on the game show “Hollywood Squares” on two consecutive days in July. I asked him if he lived on Rodeo Drive and he laughed and said no. Rodeo Drive was pretty much the only thing I knew about LA at the time. Perhaps I knew Jay was going to make it big? He lives a stone’s throw from Rodeo Drive now! He signed autographs for each of us (about 75) kids. I was so excited to tell my parents I had met Jay Leno! They had no idea who he was. But they were really happy for me.

That summer, my mom allowed me to stay home from camp those two days to watch Jay Leno on The Hollywood Squares. Being that it was 1979, I knew I had a better chance of going to the moon than seeing those two movies he said he was in. But I kept an eye on the TV Guide. On the off chance, y’know?

From there our interactions with Jay were random but fairly constant over the next decade. He always remembered me. The next year or so, my mom and brother were at the McDonald’s in town and my brother spotted Jay. My mom thought it was a hoot because she still didn’t know who this guy was…That my brother and I knew. We would see Jay around town periodically. I got to high school in the late 80’s which coincided with the time he starting being a regular fill-in for Johnny Carson. Some of his teachers were still at Andover High and Jay would come in for visits. He was always such a genuinely nice guy. Joking around and reminiscing about his teenage shenanigans and being “Class Clown.” As his star was rising, local Boston TV stations would come out and do stories. Once I sat in on a staged study hall where he was interviewed sitting at a desk with the rest of us doing our homework. Andover High has a local access TV studio and during my years there, I hosted some shows. Jay would come by and say hi and sign autographs. Once we had a telethon and he called in from California with a very generous donation for the studio. I had friends who lived a couple of doors down from his parents. His mom and dad were super friendly.

In 1992, Jay became the permanent host of The Tonight Show. In 1994, my brother and I visited LA. I put a call in to the Tonight Show and said I knew Jay from Andover and was interested in getting tickets. I had no idea how it worked. It turned out my cluelessness got us put on a list at NBC Studios Guest Relations and meant we didn’t have to wait in line. I remember wearing an Andover T-shirt and wondering if Jay might spot it in the middle of the audience. Original idea, huh? In 1996 I ended up moving to LA. I worked at Disney Studios in Burbank and every day drove past NBC where the Tonight Show is taped. Over those next couple of years, I saw Jay a few times driving in one of his many cars. He was always in a good mood and waving to people. I met three people during those years who were helped by Jay when they were having car trouble. Jay is well known for pulling over to see if he can help someone. I marveled at the “small town Andover” way he lived his life in the huge city of LA. I think it was around 1998 when my friend Anna came out from Kentucky with her friend who had never been to LA. I called the Tonight Show and again said I was from Andover. Without hesitation, we got on the Guest Relations list. The next few times I went to The Tonight Show it was because I had a friend at NBC who got me tickets. I always went not knowing who the guest was going to be. I ended up attending two shows when Bridget Fonda was a guest. What are the odds? Once I went and David Bowie was the musical guest. I. About. Died. Huge fan. That made my year. You are probably wondering if I ever tried to connect with him in person. The first time we went, on the way out of the studio, we asked someone if Jay was around because we knew him from Andover. The guy seemed genuinely disappointed to say that he was leaving right away. Jay is a really hard worker and on many (most?) nights after he tapes a show, he goes and does a gig somewhere. Other than maybe a chance to connect with him after a taping, what was I going to do? Call him to do lunch? Ha, ha, ha! He’s such a nice guy, I bet he would’ve had lunch with me. I lived a few blocks from where he taped his “Jaywalking” segment on Melrose Avenue every week. My husband would drive past him on his way home from work. I meant to make it over there sometime. Life was busy and I never did.

The last ten years or so have been hectic. I got married, had two kids back to back. Time flies. Last year it was announced that Jay would be ending his run in February 2014. I felt sad because Jay’s career has been such a part of my life. He made it to the top. I cheered the whole way. Last Spring, my kids’ school was having their annual silent auction and I was working on auction items. I wondered if after all these years, could I call and say I’m so and so from Andover and get some tickets donated? I called and again, spoke to someone who was so nice. That’s the thing I always experienced when I called or when I was there. Every single person who works for Jay is so NICE! They arranged four VIP tickets and a VIP meet and greet after the show. Of course, they said they couldn’t guarantee the meet and greet because Jay may have to leave right after the show. I said, “Oh, I know. He might have a gig.” I felt that giving my “semi-inside knowledge” might help to legitimize my phone call. I asked his assistant if she would please express to Jay how grateful I was. And if you could tell him it’s Elizabeth and l listed off a bunch of ways we know each other. She was so nice and said she would. So, did I have an in with Jay? Do I still have an in with Jay? Or are they just so nice at The Tonight Show with Jay Leno? Who knows? What we all know though, is that Jay has been top of the ratings for over two decades and he is going out on top. Leaving on a high note as the class act he is.

Here we are. February 6, 2014. Jay already taped the show. It will be airing here shortly. The last show has already been seen in our hometown. I have a feeling Jay isn’t going into retirement. Maybe I could ask him to go to lunch? Maybe he has a little more time now? After all, Jay and me. We go way back.

To Be Unoffendable...

These are strange times we are living in. Though...The more perspective I get...By having more years under my belt...The more I think that any given time can be properly be termed "strange" by someone living it. But one thing seems clear, the amount of media through which someone can be trashed publicly is at a level no one could have predicted even 20 years ago. That even non-public figures can be trashed online by a disgruntled ex or a pissed off neighbor truly makes all of us "eligible" to have insults hurled at us, lies spread about us. Sort of makes you feel unprepared, eh?

Through an interesting chain of social media events, I arrived at this video and my new favorite quote: "To be unoffendable is like an incredible position of power. To not care, to not even be interested in people's ill-informed opinions." Simon Doonan

Shamrock Shakes 2012

As described in my Shamrock Shakes post from March 2009, I have had a decades long love affair with the Shamrock Shake. This year, for the first time, Shamrock Shakes are nationwide! They look different from the ones of my youth….Fancier and all McCafe’d out. But the heart and soul of this genius invention remains. I’m quite excited that I’m the recipient of 10 free Shamrock Shake coupons to give out. I handed one to Chip’s Kindergarten teacher yesterday and her eyes lit up. “I’ve never had one!” she exclaimed. “I’m going right after to school to get one!” I gasped and replied, “Never had one? I won a St. Patrick’s Day contest in second grade for one…You must start holding the contest!”

Please follow me down memory lane and the mintcool goodness that is the McDonald’s Shamrock Shake:

Originally posted March 13, 2009
When I was in second grade, our class had a contest for St. Patrick's Day.  The student who wore the most green items would win lunch at McDonald's with the teacher and a Shamrock Shake.  I vividly recall planning my ensemble for days.  I carefully collected anything and everything that could be worn by me and was green.  I even secured green underwear.  I won--handily.  So off we went to McDonald's: Mrs. Mayo (my teacher), Cathy (the girl who won from the class next door) and her teacher.  I had my first Shamrock Shake, the year was 1977.  Jimmy Carter was the new President.  Today, 32 years later, I had my most recent Shamrock Shake.  Barack Obama is the new President.

I was able to find solace and comfort in a childhood favorite, the minty, refreshing, creamy Shamrock Shake.  Back in '77 there was only one size shake and there was a character named Grimace who drank them.  Now McDonald's shakes come in 3 sizes, each one bigger than the '77 version and most Americans are as big as Grimace.  It used to be you could count on two things in March, the Shamrock Shake and the NCAA Tournament.  The former is no longer a given.  They are not available everywhere and are not available every year.  In 2007, they were not to be found anywhere in the Los Angeles basin.  Frustratingly.   I even recall pulling up to drive thrus and asking "Do you have Shamrock Shakes?"  The person would always respond "Yes."  Excited, I would pull up to the window only to meet someone who had only a passing command of English and was probably experiencing their first St. Patrick's Day in this country.  I would repeat "Shamrock Shake."  And they would respond, "Wha' kind o' eeee-shake, you want?"  I would ask them to get their manager, who luckily had been in the country at least a couple of years.  They would come to the window and explain that they didn't have them this year.

I'm always amazed when I meet people, fellow Americans, contemporaries, if you will, who do not know what a Shamrock Shake is.  I cannot be friends with them.  I. Just. Can't.  I don't care if you think they are disgusting.  Just that you KNOW of them.  That you are part of my tribe.  There is even a website dedicated to the Shamrock Shake.  They are only available for a limited time.  And oh-so-delicious.

Lunch Influential

My kids have been eating lunch at school since they were 2 years and some change. Their nursery schools all have the option of staying for lunch on an as needed basis. Thank god. I don’t know how my mother coped. We even had half-day Kindergarten. Here it’s full day. The one annoying aspect is there is no “school lunch” program until after Kindergarten so I’ve been packing lunches. Chip is a lean, mean playing machine who usually brings home his lunch mostly uneaten. Lulu actually seems to eat her lunch AND take note of what those around here are consuming. Last year, Lulu started asking for a thermos one day at a store. I figured it was because it had Hello Kitty on it, but she started saying it was for “meatballs”. Random? My mother was there and said it was probably because some kid at school had meatballs in a thermos. My mother is very smart. I would still be wondering where the heck the meatballs idea came from.

Next came a request for a “fruit bar that you peel like string cheese”. A fruit roll-up? I asked wondering if that weird peel off the paper thing from MY childhood still even existed. Lulu shook her head. She explained Juliette has it in her lunch everyday. So, I asked the teachers who actually sit with the kids at lunch and they had no idea. They agreed to stalk Juliette’s lunch. I put a call into Juliette’s mother. Juliette’s mother is one of those moms who never checks her voicemail or e-mail. So unless I caught her in the parking lot, that was going to be a long wait. Then, at drop off, Lulu’s teacher waves a wrapper at me triumphantly, the evidence from Juliette’s lunch. Victory.

Then yesterday, Lulu relates a story of another girl in her class who “had an egg that looks like an egg, but you can eat it.” Lordy, say what? As luck would have it, Surfer Guy was in on the conversation and deduced it was a “hard boiled egg”. Lulu then queried, “How do you eat it with the shell?” Poor kid, clearly her food horizons are narrow. NOT! She has tried lobster, mussels, clams, sushi, Thai, Indian, Swedish…I could go on. I just haven’t given her a hard boiled egg. Who eats hard boiled eggs? Not. Me. I’m not a huge fan of eggs actually. I don’t NOT eat them, but I don’t boil eggs. Why would I? To make egg salad? Deviled eggs? No, because I don’t make those things. I don’t make much actually, but that’s for another post. So, tonight, Lulu asks for a “hard egg”. I asked her if she would eat it….Was she sure she would eat it? Oh, and Chip wanted in as well. They both assured me they would eat them. I thought about it for a millisecond and realized I didn’t know how to do it. This vaguely sounded like a “can’t even boil water” type joke. It’s boiling water and putting eggs in. But, for how long? How do you know they are done? Is there an easier way of doing it? Peeling?

So I looked it up. The first page of my search turned up a food blogger who absolutely has too much interest in hard boiled eggs. She has a fabulous 17 step process for making the most perfect hard boiled eggs. The preamble includes the tip that eggs that are 5 days old are the best for boiling. Are you kidding me? I don’t even know when I bought these eggs…Definitely last year…Sometime. Focusing on the actual directions: I was unable to follow around the point where she said to “sacrifice an egg” to see how it’s cooked. I was planning on making TWO eggs. She is telling us to essentially have an indicator egg in the “batch.” Because she “batch cooks” eggs. Of course. Don’t you? She doesn’t say what to do if that egg isn’t done. What"? You are screwed? Or…You sacrifice another egg. How do you therefore know how many eggs to have in the batch to sacrifice. Insane. I started to have science fiction type flashbacks to hard boiled eggs I’ve seen for purchase. I’m nearly convinced I’ve seen them for sale in the refrigerator at Fresh & Easy. But, maybe that’s my brain using a coping mechanism. Telling me that I CAN buy the finished product. I glance further down the page and see where she makes a reference to “forgetting to check” so she skips a step that she lists. Skips a step that she puts in as a step? My body does a convulsive shudder. I wonder if the kids will forget. Further down the page, it gets better. The comments. The fawning comments about how great her recipe is. How much each person loves hard boiled eggs. It’s like a happy walk down memory lane of egg eating by anonymous people. Sea salt seems to be a recurring theme. Sea salt is the ingredient “foodies” throw out there to let you know you are not QUITE as good as they are. I laugh out loud at the bitter commenter who wants instructions on boiling eggs at high altitudes. My reverie is jolted to reality by a repeated request for “eggs”.

Fine. I head to the kitchen whip out a pot and put water in it. Place on stove and put on “high”. I walk away. A while later Surfer Guy comes home and says the pot on the stove is boiling. Oh, forgot that. I grab 3 eggs because that’s all I have. I drop the first egg in and it cracks a little. Oh, that’s right, they are fragile. I put more wrist behind the next two and a boiling they go. The one thing I retained from the “food blogger” was 12 minutes. But 12 minutes from the beginning of putting the pot on, not 12 minutes from boiling. And these are wicked small eggs. Screw it, 12 minutes it is. I manage to keep an eye on the clock (a timer would be too easy). Done. I grab a bowl with cold water and put the eggs in. The kids have circled, wide eyed. I ask Surfer Guy if he knows how to peel the eggs? “Just peel them?” he offers. So I crack one gently on the counter and try to pick the bits off the egg. Chip wants the first one. I get through the second one. The kids sit down with their eggs. They bite in. Chip wants the yolk out. Really? So I grab a baby spoon and gouge the stuff out. Then Lulu wants the same. Then they try some more and announce they don’t like them. I slap their dishes on the ground and yell for Bjorn, my black Pomeranian. Bjorn, who is only influenced by the instinct to eat to survive.

Easter as a Competitive Event

 

This is a post I originally wrote for the now closed Los Angeles Moms blog. I feel that rookie moms and dads preparing excitedly for their baby’s first Easter Egg Hunt can only benefit in advance from the hard, cold reality that I am about to share with you. I’m not saying don’t go. Information is power.

Easter as a Competitive Event was originally posted on The Los Angeles Moms Blog on April 10, 2009

I am a member of a very popular message group catering largely to mothers living in Los Angeles.  In the days after Easter last year, numerous posts appeared describing the horrors of various Easter Egg Hunts held around the city.  One common thread ran through all the posts: parents behaving like lunatics. 

One mom wrote: "It was like a stampede with clouds of dust and parents running around picking up eggs for their kids, taking the eggs so the other kids could not get them.  My 3 year old got one egg and the 2 year old got nothing."   And another: "I am posting this to save anyone who may be considering going to the Easter Egg Hunt at _______ Park next year."  And this: "....many parents were SCREAMING at both their kids and other kids to get more, get away from my son, etc."  This one: "The parents jumped the fence before the whistle or shoved their kids in before the whistle."  How about: "They should not allow parents to participate. It's awful, one woman grabbed an egg right out from under my 2 year old's hand, literally."  Also: "They announced no fewer than three times that parents were not allowed inside the egg hunting area, but that didn't stop about a dozen parents from going in there and scooping up loads of eggs for their kids. My daughter got one egg." 

What the heck?

These hunts all were held in fairly affluent areas where large numbers of attorneys, Hollywood executives and various and sundry captains of industry reside.  All pulling up in their Range Rovers and Volvo SUVs to get cutthroat over some cheap plastic eggs at a city park. 

I'm sure I saw many of them the next day at brunch at the Bel Air Country Club.  I've thought about what was really going on.  Helicopter parenting?  Parents who want to help their kids succeed?  A loss of perspective?  Making sure your kid isn't "cheated"?  Parents who forgot to take their meds that morning?  Behavior that seems to be as far from Christian as I can imagine on one of the most Holy Days. 

Here is my concern: The economy is in worse shape this Easter.  People are on edge and losing things like money, portfolio value, jobs and homes.  Wouldn't that lead one to presume this weekend's Easter egg hunts will take on the air of an Olympic event?  Baskets tightly clenched.  Parents squatting down with toddlers discussing game time strategy.  "Aidan, you go deep and wide grabbing what you can.  I’ll circle by the bounce house with Isabella and then pass the basket off to your mother. Then we'll see what we can fit into our pockets and arms." 

I'm all for competition.  I first and foremost consider myself a capitalist.  Most of all, I do not believe everyone deserves a trophy at the end of the season.  However, I draw the line on Easter Egg Hunts for the under-7 crowd.  If everyone has a quota, say 20 eggs, then you just go around counting the eggs you pick up CALMLY and you are done.  It's a family holiday for crying out loud!  I hope that this Easter we can all set some good examples for our kids regardless of the activity or location.  But, especially at the Easter Egg Hunt at ________ Park.

An original post for the Los Angeles Moms Blog.

When Elizabeth Peterson is not analyzing the ghosts of holidays past, she can be found over at her personal blog Traded my BMW for a Minivan.

Comments (Original comments from the LA Moms Blog post)

April McCaffery said...

We're skipping Easter altogether this year. Holidays are less fun and more drama every year. I'm over it.

Reply April 10, 2009 at 12:35 PM

Lexi said...

We aren't big on the commercial aspects of holidays. But we just today talked about going to a local Easter egg event that has a time slot for the under age 2 crowd. Now I wonder if I need to be worried? My kids can't even walk yet. Is it worth going?

Reply April 10, 2009 at 06:15 PM

kristen said...

my 4 year old twin boys were in a hunt today, both of whom are quite independent, and one son got one egg, the other got none (though the organizers were nice enough to give my son that didn't get any one). And, one of our friend's daughters who is quite aggressive also did not get any. Needless to say, there were tons of kids with 6-8 eggs in their baskets. But, we followed the rules, and we watched repeatedly as the parents did exactly what you describe. And, there were a lot of kids that were much older older than the 3-4 they were supposed to be.. Before I had coached the boys -- I told them that once they got two eggs, they were to stop. But, once I realized what was happening, I tried to give them a hint about where to go, but oh well.

Reply April 11, 2009 at 06:47 PM

The Stiletto Mom said...

I wish I could tell you I was shocked to read this but I'm not. We have a lot of competitive parents like that in my neighborhood and I also often wonder if they've lost their minds. One of these days, I'm going to be smart and remember to bring my Flip video to some of the events where the seem to go the craziest just for fun...and possibly blog fodder.

Reply April 12, 2009 at 07:59 AM

Lucia Davies said...

Stiletto Mom - I wish you would make a video. If these scheming, entitlement-issued "parents" could only see how obnoxious they are - and how they're teaching their kids to push, shove, step on and otherwise back stab others in their "in it to win it" attitude, maybe they'd chill out and behave like decent people. Sadly, though, I doubt it. I hate to paint with the generalization brush - but part of the reason I left L.A. is because I came across this kind of behavior again and again. There are plenty of great people in L.A., but it seems more and more that the asshats are taking over...

Reply April 12, 2009 at 11:12 AM

cynematic said...

Elizabeth, I totally agree with you on the egg hunt nuttiness. Where's the perspective? Last year we spent Easter in Palm Springs, and lucked into one of those over-the-top gala resort Easters with bunny parachuting from plane (I kid you not), egg hunt (and grabby kids/adults), a little animal pen, etc. We just wanted a getaway and didn't realize some hotel chains set up these extravaganzas. Kid had a blast but it was shocking how **grownups** were grabbing cheap plastic eggs away from other people's children. We decided not to go back this year.

Instead, we did something much more low-key, spending it with grandparents at their place, and kid hasn't even mentioned his Easter basket yet. (He'll get a chocolate bunny, no worries.)

I'm not Christian but even I can see this holiday isn't supposed to be like the tv show "Survivor" to see who's most ruthless and acquisitive.

Reply April 12, 2009 at 05:05 PM

Amber said...

Yikes. I agree with the poster above, a video of this would be hilarious! We tend to avoid the mass egg hunts and stick to small family/friend gatherings so I've never seen this sort of behavior here, though I can certainly imagine.

Reply April 12, 2009 at 08:37 PM

jesscio said...

I couldn't agree more having just experienced a similar egg hunt at a Florida resort. Shocking to me the toddlers with baskets full of eggs while scads of "big" kids found just one or two. I've never understood why people see raising kids as a competitive sport.

Reply April 13, 2009 at 05:45 AM

Peter Pan Mom

This is one of my earliest posts for the soon to be closed Los Angeles Moms Blog. I also performed a version of it in Expressing Motherhood in January 2009. Now that Lulu is obsessed with Tinkerbell, it’s even more perfect that I dust this one off. (And, no, I still haven’t grown up)

I present to you: Peter Pan Mom, originally posted on The Los Angeles Moms Blog, October 27, 2008.

I've pretty much always had a vague understanding that I was sliding along on a type of extended adolescence.  Having fun, not really responsible for much and somewhat incompetent with a lot of practical stuff.  I'm not saying I'm a slacker, I finished college in 4 years and had real jobs.  I just never had much responsibility and not much interest in learning the skills that would help me be a more well-rounded mom/domestic goddess.  More to the point, I found I could pay other people to do stuff I couldn't--like hem my pants.  I even ducked getting married for a while because I thought it was too grown up.  I have Peter Pan Syndrome.  That's fine, and I've been able to accept this fact.  Here's the problem: I now have kids and it's starting to affect them.

First of all, sometimes I forget that I have kids.  NO, I've never forgotten them someplace, or left them in the car.  I mean, that I forget, that I'm not single and childless and can do whatever I want, when I want.  There was an episode of Sex and the City where Miranda begrudgingly goes to Brooklyn to look at a house and while there looks out at Steve and Brady playing outside and has a revelation that she is married and has a kid.  That's me!  I'm still wistful for my life in West Hollywood I left behind three weeks before I gave birth to Chip, to move to the suburbs.  Intellectually, I know that living in my swell apartment would be hell with a baby and a toddler.  But I can still be wistful, can't I?  The turning point of recognizing my Peter Pan Syndrome came when I traded my BMW for a minivan this past spring.

The experience was so transforming that it sent me to the world of Mommy Blogging and was the inspiration for the title of my blog Traded My BMW for a Minivan.  I held onto that BMW with two car seats jammed in back as long as I humanly could.  When I had to start deciding between having strollers in the trunk or buying groceries, I knew it was time to let go.

Then there is the practical stuff.  The stuff that people who are real moms can do: like fold a fitted sheet.  My mother came out from Boston a couple of weeks ago and I asked her to help me fold the laundry.  I actually need another person to fold the sheets with me, like we were folding the American flag or something.  But, I swear unless someone else is holding the other side, I get all tangled up.  She told me she would do it.  I returned and realized she actually folded them up all by herself.  I didn't even bother to ask her to teach me how she did it.  Then she moved on to the task of taking in the waist and hemming Chip's Halloween costume.  Thanks to her Chip will not be tripping through the neighborhood trick or treating this year.  The holidays are coming up.  I have no clue how to cook a turkey or do anything else related to a holiday dinner.  Pies?  Gravy?  Impossible.  This  year my mother-in-law will be in my kitchen cooking Thanksgiving and then my mother comes out for Christmas.  I'm saved for this year!  I'm pretty sure I could never learn to cook a turkey and do it right anyway.  So I'll just watch the sports on TV and eat chips and onion dip, like I have every family holiday since I was five.

Now here is where the whole thing gets scary: the competence appears to diminish with each generation.  My maternal grandmother gardened an acre by herself well into her 70's, canned enough fruits and veggies to feed her entire town (if needed), was a Navy mechanic during WWII and let's just say she knew what she was doing under the hood of a car.  What else?  She ran her own restaurant and her cooking?  Amazing.  My Paternal grandmother was a garment worker and could sew and knit like the wind.  My mother is slightly less competent than the previous generation.  I'm way less competent than my mother.  My daughter's kids are going to be in big trouble.  My poor future grandchildren.

I have friends who actually scrapbook.  They lovingly record every moment of their children's development all with whimsical fonts and cutesy paper.  I once checked out some scrapbooking supplies and started to glaze over.  I was at a mom's night out dinner last night and the mom sitting next to me was talking about her son's baby book and putting his second birthday photos in.  Needless to say, Chip and Lulu have no baby books and the outlook for getting them is bleak.  My neighbor popped over last week and showed me how to remove the burnt food that has been stuck (I thought permanently) to my stove top.  She is younger than I am.  She also brought me a casserole when Lulu was born.  I've never made a casserole.  For anyone.

I remain optimistic that there is hope for me.  That I can get some better life skills on board before the kids are much older.  Let's hope, for their sake.

This is an original post for the Los Angeles Moms Blog.

When she isn't running from family responsibility, Elizabeth Peterson can be found blogging over at Traded My BMW for a Minivan

Comments (original comments from The LA Moms Blog post)

Jessica Gottlieb said...

I liked you before this post, but now I think I love you. I can fold a fitted sheet but I'm still wondering what to do with the photos and where the time comes from.

Reply October 27, 2008 at 08:54 AM

April said...

I can SO relate to this post! Last week, I was jumping up and down because the girls got to carve pumpkins on a field trip. Otherwise, that job would've gone to their granddad (as usual). It's become my personal goal for right now to feel more confident about the domestic life.

Reply October 27, 2008 at 09:19 AM

Karen S. said...

Scrapbooking--that especially resonates. I don't get it (boring!), and my photos will probably never be neatly placed in albums or even categorized in bunches.

Basically, I suck at being a housewife, although I'm okay at being a SAHM. So just concentrate on the stuff you do well, and don't beat yourself up about it. You love and take care of your kids--the rest'll sort itself out.

Reply October 27, 2008 at 10:35 PM

Julie said...

That is the best thing I have read in a long time! Wow, can I ever relate! I can't fold a fitted sheet to save my life. I traded in my car for a minivan and my license plate is WhoNew. Trust me, I know what you are talking about!

Reply October 28, 2008 at 10:43 AM

Travelingmom said...

At least you are still in CA! I am wistful about Hermosa Beach as I put on another sweatshirt to keep warm (it is full-blown Fall in CT). I just talked to a guy tonight who moved to FLA from TX and says he is tired of all the New Englanders who moved in and are trying to boss him around. I mean, didn't they notice his HAT?

Reply October 28, 2008 at 05:17 PM

erin m said...

i just roll the sheets into a ball and shove them into the cupboard.
i OWN a sewing machine, yet still bring my son's cub scout patches to the dry cleaner to have them sewn on.
glad i'm not the only one....

Reply October 29, 2008 at 09:13 AM

Amanda said...

I can't even fold a fitted sheet with two people, not even three. I love this post because it is so relatable. I will never be able to do the things my mom can do but you know what, she has never blogged in her life and thinks this site is so cool. She doesn't use an ATM and would you believe, she doesn't pump her own gas. So... realize you are simply a different kind of mom who can teach your children different life skills. You can always hire someone to cook or clean but no one can be the kind of mom you are to your kids. Those are the things they will remember.

Reply October 29, 2008 at 12:03 PM

AKAmomma said...

Glaze over, that is exactly what happened to me. But I still went ahead and wasted the money on the scrapbooking supplies because I thought that was what a good mom was supposed to do. I guess I am not a good mom, because I only did one page over a year ago. I do take the pics at least, but they are still in the deep freeze on my computer. Maybe when the kids graduate from college I will have them printed up.

Reply November 12, 2008 at 04:35 PM

No Host Mom

Time to revisit one of my Los Angeles Moms Blog posts. The site will soon be coming down permanently and some of this stuff is certainly worth repeating, right?

Here is No Host Mom, originally posted on The Los Angeles Moms Blog, March 31, 2010

I’m a member of an informal playgroup that originated in a formal toddler “Mommy & Me” class.  When the class ended, a number of us continued to meet at a local park or at one of our homes.  This has continued for a couple of years even now that the kids are approaching their fourth birthdays.  Our informal group has always worked with no formal playdate schedule.  Now that the kids are three, they are in different pre-schools and have various schedules but we have continued to get together on school breaks.  All the moms take turns hosting.  Except for one: The No Host Mom.

The No Host Mom actually never particularly bothered me.  Now that I think back on it, without prompting she seems to have given me excuses as to why she can’t host.  And in fact, her excuses didn’t really make sense.  They kind of left me with a vague understanding that she must have a gaping hole in the middle of her living room into which the kids would fall.  As she explained and gestured wildly indicating some architectural challenge or whatever.  I inevitably had a kid to run after and just chalked it up to her maybe having a hoarding problem or something she was embarrassed about.  Or I just didn’t think about it.  I will refer to The No Host Mom as “Sue” for the purposes of my post.  Sue is nice enough.  I’m not particularly friendly nor unfriendly with her.  Our group recently gathered at another group member’s home and Sue was there as well as a few other moms and kids.  A couple of days later I ran into my friend “Karen” also a member of the group with whom I share a stronger connection.  Our boys go way back to newborn Mommy & Me and are now in the same pre-school class.  Karen had not been at the recent playdate and so I filled her in on who was there.  I then asked, “What’s up with Sue never hosting the group?”  Karen responded, “I’ve been to her house."

Well. Interesting.  I thought.  “You’ve been to her house?” I asked.  “Yes. It’s perfect. Like a museum.” Karen replied. “It was just me invited [and her son].”  Karen went on to describe the stuff that could get broken and how elegantly appointed Sue’s home is.  Apparently no one told Sue that part of the deal of having little kids is that they destroy everything.  That you need to delay having nice stuff or hide it in the garage until they leave for medical school.  I actually found this revelation from Karen extremely fascinating because Sue seems so involved with her daughter that you would actually think she would have a more kid friendly house.  But what do I know?  Sue can choose to not host a playgroup.  Perhaps she is arranging individual playdates and we haven’t made the shortlist. Ha!  I find it interesting that another mom in another group I’m in was not able to host for a number of months because her house was on the market.  So instead she brought pizza and drinks to the park for all the kids, saying, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to host.”  No one would have even noticed, but in retrospect it was nice that she made a gesture of doing what she could to pull her weight on the toddler playgroup circuit.  I realize it’s the stage we are in, and yes, each time a few toddlers come over, the place gets messed up.  Nothing has really been broken, but toys get played with, juice boxes get juiced and everything has washable slipcovers on it.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

An original post for the Los Angeles Moms Blog.

Elizabeth can be found doing interesting stuff like cooking with Bobby Flay over on her personal blog Traded My BMW for a Minivan and being irreverent over on Twitter.

Comments (these are the original comments from the post on the LA Moms Blog)

Nicole Pelton said...

That's why I don't host playdates, my house is way to perfect and museum-like. Well, except for the colorful pen-art on the coffee table and the legos and paper airplanes strewn around :) I once belonged to a playgroup where one family bought a mansion with the equivalent of a park in the backyard...fun to play in but had to steal myself not to get to envious. I'm glad you didn't get worked up about this. I've been in a couple book clubs, and some people have these great houses where they put their kids to bed in the back and have a great living room area to host. A few of us had houses that were just too small for that, so "hosted" in a coffee shop. This just bothered so many people the whole club dissolved.

Reply March 31, 2010 at 10:47 AM

Elizabeth said in reply to Nicole Pelton...

Ah, Nicole, good riddance I say. Those people who were bothered clearly didn't realize the whole reason to even HAVE book club is simply to get OUT of your own house and go ANYWHERE. Thanks for your comment and I'll meet you at a coffee shop anytime.

Reply March 31, 2010 at 06:42 PM

Sarah Auerswald said...

OMG -- we had a no-host mom when my 7-year-old was in a playgroup years ago! How hilarious! Yeah, she always had an excuse or two -- and years later I finally did go over to see her house -- alone -- and it was also museum-ish. It's just not how I live, but to each her own.

Reply March 31, 2010 at 05:58 PM

Elizabeth said...

But...Sarah...Did you call her out on it or just take the high road? Thanks for your comment :)

Reply March 31, 2010 at 06:43 PM

Wanted: Mom Birthday Party Stand-In

Tomorrow I have back to back birthday parties to attend.  One at 11am for one of Lulu’s classmates, a girl who is having a “princess” theme.  Lulu should be in her glory even though all her classmates are just turning 3 and are still very much into parallel play.  Chip has been invited to his first birthday party of his nursery school classroom’s “birthday season”, which this year spans from January to June.  This one is for a boy, is a “Star Wars” theme and begins at 1pm.  Looks like we are going to be cutting it close OR I may have to enlist Surfer Guy and do a hand-off.  This all brought back memories of how I was feeling during “High Season” last year and the post I wrote for the LA Moms Blog which closed this past July.  Tonight seems the perfect time to revisit that post:

Wanted: Mom Birthday Party Stand-In was originally posted on The Los Angeles Moms Blog, April 22, 2010

Location: Los Angeles Westside/Southbay

Hiring Manager: Chip’s Mom

Position: Seasonal

Requirements: Driver’s license, clean driving record, willing to drive a minivan, ability to source tissue paper and themed gift bags

Salary: Name your price

Must love kids.  My kids and others.  Or be able to fake it.  Due to the fact that every child in my son’s preschool class was born between March and June, we are currently in High Birthday Season Hell. 

The ideal candidate will be happy, jovial and possess the stamina necessary to jump into the very busy 4th birthday party season just underway for the members of my son Chip’s preschool class at Lad & Lassie Preschool.  Must be able to purchase birthday gifts, appropriate cards and wrap.  A love of Costco cake and pizza a definite plus.  The need to be able to simultaneously take care of 2 year old Lulu while making sure that Chip does not monopolize Spiderman (Batman, Princess Aurora, The Fireman) while they are trying to give extra attention to the guest of honor is a must. 

I’m open to creative individuals who know how to finesse an arrival in order to avoid “the arts & crafts nightmare” portion of the party.  Allowing Chip to duke it out with other kids for the pinata candy is also encouraged.  True interest in being stuck for hours at parties in parks, at the beach, kid’s gyms and in backyards while juggling plates, juice boxes and goody bags is a plus although not a requirement.  The vast majority of the parents and siblings of Chip’s classmates are perfectly nice.  The one or two who try to suck you into their pyramid schemes will be pointed out to you at your training party.  Chip’s birthday is in June, at the end of the High Birthday Season.  Candidate’s assistance in the planning and execution of Chip’s party would be a bonus opportunity.  This position may be ongoing, seasonally, until both Chip and Lulu are of age to attend drop off birthday parties.  Interested candidates who meet the above requirements please contact Elizabeth at Traded My BMW for a Minivan.

An original post for The Los Angeles Moms Blog

When Elizabeth Peterson isn’t trying buy her way out of certain mom duties, she can be found blogging about stuff she’d rather be doing over on her personal blog: Traded My BMW for a Minivan.

Comments (These are the original comments from the LA Moms Blog)

Nicole Pelton said...

Wish you lived up here, I could send my husband, who's aghast at the idea of a drop-off party. "Why wouldn't I want to stay and hang out with my kids at the party?" He loves any and all pizza, but I will warn you, every one of your kid's friends would get a soccer ball for a present :)

Reply April 22, 2010 at 02:55 PM

twitter.com/TechPRMaven said...

Great post! It seems like every kid in my son's preschool class was born between March and June, with the exception of my son, who has an August birthday...I thought it was a phenomenon related to his school, but apparently it is everywhere. The parties...almost one per weekend.... Now, the latest trend at my son's school is to bring in cookies, cakes, brownies and favors and have a party in the classroom, which is fine every once in a while, but I swear that there were at least three last week, he came home sugared-up, tired and grumpy (but with a new toy, which was a bonus for him)...Ahh, how I long for the end of Birthday season...

Reply April 22, 2010 at 05:59 PM

Elizabeth A said...

Thank God the birthday party frenzy is almost over for my kids. I remember it well, though, and think you're on to something with this ad.

Reply April 22, 2010 at 07:16 PM