Remember to Hug Your Mom

The communications and marketing machinery began moving into high gear some weeks ago.  It’s the busiest day of the year for restaurants; a boom for the greeting card industry; a staple for flower industries.  What’s it all about?  It’s about the hopes and longings of mothers, the longing for recognition, the longing for a sleep in, the longing for a day when mothers don’t have to cook!   It’s the one day (a year) when a mother can put up her feet- and no one will expect anything more. Okay, they’ll still expect it, but mom has a reason to  demur.  Yes, of course…it’s Mother’s Day, Sunday, May 13, 2012.

I navigate the day, as most other mothers, as a mother and a daughter.  My mother has her own expectations for the day.  So you can see how, as the movie title goes:  Somethings gotta give.  Each year, for the past number of years, rather unceremoniously, my son is busy with football practice for most of the day– (hey coach-  don’t you have a mother too?)  and some of my expectations go by the wayside.

My son’s at football practice again this year, but he’s promised to take me out to hit a bucket of balls.  And we’ll visit the grammas. This year, my mom’s in the hospital, so Mother’s Day has a different feel to it. Or, maybe it’s the same feel…just more of it.

However you celebrate or remember…if you are a mom, or have a mom…

Happy Mother’s Day.  Hug a Mom.

The Great Egg Debate

Everything’s been off this Spring season. ( Especially the weather, but I’m not complaining; my tulips are up!) I couldn’t find my (just slightly country) wooden leaping bunny door ornament  and after 10 years of switching out the Winter wreath for the Spring bunny, that was a bit disconcerting.  To help make things right,  I purchased a package of  Rubenesque  chick ornaments and huge them on the low hanging renegade branches of the Elm tree on the boulevard in front of my house.  Then, I put  the brass Bunny Crossing garden stake in the pot with the small cedar by the front door.  That seemed satisfying at first.

But, I’ve spent an unusual amount of time contemplating Easter goodies this year.  A large amount of time weighing the benefits of caramel centered versus pure chocolate.  A unjustifiable amount of time considering dark versus milk.  I’ve deliberated about the appropriate chocolate shape, considering bunnies over chicks.  Sports themes over cartoon characters.

I wait for enlightenment.

The question?  Well, not about the rising of the son.  My big Easter contemplation is whether or not to purchase Easter candy.  There’s no Easter egg hunt planned for this year.  It’s the first sans son Easter for me, and I’m not sure how to manage.  I could creep over to my son’s and put a basket outside his front door.  That seems a little more than creepy. Instead, I’ll just act like the grown up.  So, today I picked up my mother and then my son and went out to a restaurant for an early dinner.   On  Sunday, my son and I will go to mass and then brunch.  Just in case, I’ll stash some chocolate eggs in my purse.  Best way to fight off empty nest syndrome at Easter.

more thoughts about family

I’ve just finished Arlene Dickinson’s Persuasion, and “stumbledupon” this Communications Copilot blog…both talk about authenticity and connections…another perspective on family…or as Marilyn French called it (not a longing for company, but) a longing for kind.

About Arlene Dickinson: Co-star of CBC TV’s Dragons’ Den (I’m addicted) and for the past seven years, named one of Canada’s Top 100 Women Entrepreneurs by PROFIT magazine.

About Deborah A. Genovesi, APR “Your Communications Copilot” is an accredited PR veteran and former TV reporter helping professional women become known as experts in their fields so they can attract ideal clients and increase income. Reach her at www.commscopilot.com.

What is family?

From the football field to the political arena…some of this week’s news stories made me think about family:  what it is, why it matters and how “family” can mean different groups of people in our lives-  all equally important.

Families are our toughest critics and our biggest fans. 

And we love ‘em no matter what, and even better, they love us.

I love  Tom Mulcair’s response to a question about facing upcoming political  criticism from the Conservative  party: “I come from a family of 10 children, there is nothing that they can say about me that would be worse than what I’ve heard from my brothers and sisters.”

I also love Doug Brown’s comments about his football family: ”They say you come into the game alone and you walk out of it alone, but I definitely don’t feel that way today.”

Those two insights pretty much sum up what “family” is all about. I love both sentiments, and I especially love that they came from some pretty tough men.

I tussled with my son about his loading the dishwasher tonight.  (I invited him for dinner, but let’s face it, he’ll never be a “guest” in the house.) But I still got a hug before he left-  yep, that’s family.  Here’s to you and yours!

I hope you didn’t run into me today

My sympathies to the credit card call centre guy (s) I spoke with this evening.  This evening after a full and long and might I say less than perfect day…a day where I came home (after a short stop at my local wine and spirits store-  the place my son works- and he was there tonight along with some of my other favourite people, but that’s another story-  although I’ve now touched on the mother of the son part of all of this)  So this  mother of a son comes home tired and hungry (a bad start, n’est pas?) and picks up the mail to find a letter from the credit card folk…a nice enough letter thanking me for being a loyal customer and indicating there have been some changes to the terms of agreement – a copy of which is inclosed.

I certainly am interested in the new terms of agreement, but what I’m especially interested in right now is the appreciation for my being a ‘loyal” customer.  That is because when I last contacted said company to activate the shiny new card I had received in the mail, I was told I was not a customer and my account was not valid.

HMMMMMMM.

But even at the end of a long day I am thinking clearly and to demonstrate my fresh and sharp and able to understand priorities frame of mind, I poured a Louis Bernard 2009 Cote du Rhone into a Mikasa balloon glass, tilted it forty-five degrees from my body to study the colour, swirled it to determine the legs of it, and picked up the phone and dialled the 1-866 number to investigate the matter.

I was prompted to enter my 16 digit account number, which I was unable to do as I had tossed away the card with the aforesaid account number on it when  I was told it was not a valid account during a previous discussion with said credit card provider/retail outlet. I did have codes from the special valued account holder offer letters I’ve been receiving, but well, that again is another story.   After considerable consideration, investigation  and cross-examination, I was put on hold.  An eery new music meets Ravi Shakhar meets elastic band meets jaw harp musical interlude seemed to go on forever, and I found my muscles tensing a little.  I swirled again and took a sip from the beautiful balloon glass— a nice berry taste, with an undertone of anise…a light, pleasant summer red… Then…back to more musackkkkkk…finally,   it was determined that I am who I say I am and I did and do indeed hold a valid  account with the company concerned.  Lovely and thank you, I said.

Now, due to government regulations I will transfer you to one of my colleagues to verify your account.

Excuse me.  I thought we just verified my account.

Yes, we have, but due to government regulations, I must transfer you to a colleague to verify your account.

More Ravi Shakhar meets elastic band meets jaw harp music…another taste….plummy…this is a grenache/ syrah afterall…

Then back on the line:

May I have your first and last name please.

I just gave your colleague my first and last name.

May I have your first and last name please.

I give!  and give my first name, last name.

May I have the name of your employer and your title.

I’m sorry, I don’t understand why you need the name of my employer and my title.

For security reasons under government regulations.

And here is where the wine meets the rubber meets the road meets the pain in the butt I can sometimes be….

I’m sorry, I say, I don’t understand why you need this information.  What government regulation are you referring to?

We’re required…

I understand you’re trying to do your job, but I understood my account has been verified.  Are you asking me to reapply for an account?

No.

I’m sorry for being difficult, I just don’t understand why you need to know my employer for security reasons.  What government regulation are you referring to?

pause.

I’m sorry, is the reply.  I really don’t know.

Okay.  I say.  I give the name of my employer and my title.

You must have a lot of responsibility says the call centre employee.  There is nothing more you need to do…Your account is active and I will make sure you get a new card.

Do you  promise?  I ask.  Do you cross your heart?

Yes, says the call centre employee.

Thanks I say.  Have a nice day.

I hang up the phone, and have another sip…yes, definite berry and plum with that nice liquorice edge…then I turn to the new agreement updates:

purchases 29.9%…

in a 2.99 % mortgage world??????????

I need a moment in a quiet lovely place.

Salut!

Mother-Son Translation Tool Kit

My gift to mothers of the world with teenaged and twenty-something sons…  Common phrases in the mother-son conversation.  Part one.

Hi Mom…(translation)  Hi Mom.

How’s it going?…How are you?

What are you up to? … Are you home?  If not, will you be home later?

What have you been doing?…Have you been grocery shopping?

I thought I’d come over…Is there food?

What are you doing tonight? … Can I borrow the car?

Can I borrow the car?….Did you fill up recently?

Have you seen my (fill in team name) jersey?…Did you find the jersey I rolled into a ball and stuffed behind the sofa cushions and if so, did you wash it?

end of part one…

my new upside down world

Me:  Where are the car keys?

Son:  Where do you think you’re going at this time of night?

sheesh…