Do kids even know what to do when the screens are off?

Do your nights out with friends and families look like this? Ours often do and I’m sick of it. So, next week the CB’s are going screen free. Read my blog this week about Screen Free Week here. Dare to join us?


Hey girl in dance class, keep your hands off my child’s butt!

I’m waiting for Rosie to come downstairs from dance when her teacher looks at me funny and says, “She wasn’t herself tonight. She was very mopey.”

Hmm. I thought. Not like my kid although with this puberty thing going on you never know what you might get. We got to the car and I asked what was wrong.

“I’m being bullied Mama,” she said and looked away.

“In class? Tell her not to talk to you at dance. Tell her she’s not nice.” I instructed my child.

“No. Not like that. I’m being bullied. Physically,” she said as she looked out the car window.

“What do you mean physically. Did someone push you in class? If so, you need to tell Marissa.” I said.

“No. This girl keeps pinching my butt. I’ve told her to stop, but she won’t and Marissa won’t believe me when I tell her anyway. ”  Tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

As pregnant pauses go, that was one of my finer moments. I was completely and utterly shocked. Searching my brain for what to say next. And, for what seemed like an eternity, nothing came out.

I’ve been waiting for the day that I’d have to have the inappropriate touching conversation with Rosie. I just thought it would be when she came home from school one day complaining about a boy who pinched her tushie or brushed her breast. I really hadn’t ever taken a moment to think that the conversation would surround another girl. It never crossed my mind.

We’ve exposed Rosie to all kinds of people. People of different races, religions and yes, sexual orientations. So, she knows that there are kids out there with two moms or dads and she’s not uncomfortable with that concept at all. She knows that some girls like other girls and that while it may be different from what she feels (which right now she doesn’t like boys either but she thinks she might soon), that it’s okay. So, the good news was that I didn’t have to introduce the topic of being gay for the first time. That was a blessing.

And, somewhere along the way, I must have done a good job talking about how you could only touch someone with permission because my child was smart enough to identify this as unwanted behavior. It must have gone on for a while for her to describe it as bullying because I’m sure the first time it happened she probably thought it was an accident. Obviously, now it was not.

And, to be honest, I was livid. Dance is my child’s safe haven. The one place she can go and forget about her troubles and cares. The only place she’s truly free. And, now it’s been violated (and so has she).

I took a deep breath, wiped my child’s tears and mustered up all the courage I had to say, “You’re right. She shouldn’t pinch you or even touch you. And, we need to find a way to make it stop.”

She reached out her hand to me and locked her fingers in mine. The hopelessness she had when she got in the car seemed to dissipate. She knew I’d do anything to protect her. I just needed to figure out how.

So I called dance and asked for their advice. They’re going to be proactive. Now, let’s see if it stops.



Going Green

This week I blogged on Plum District about green cleaning. You can read that post here. I’ll be back in debcb land this week. Look out (it was a rough week and I’m contemplating how much I’d like to tell….!

See ya later ugly conservative clothes!

A couple months ago I went from the straight-laced financial professional world back into the creative anything-goes advertising world. And, I did what any woman sick and tired of stodgy dress clothes would do. I purged my closet. I promised all of you a peek of what was going away and then I got crazy busy. But, I’m a woman that keeps my word. Here are some of the lovely threads that have found their way to a charity near you. (DISCLAIMER: the opinions that follow are only mine and probably don’t really count. So, if you have some of these clothes in your closet, I’m sure they look lovely on you. I just needed to make a change).

This lovely Nordstrom shirt was ready for anything the business world could throw my way. Wrinkle-free it never showed signs of a tough day.

Too bad it was blue (remember, I planned to ban everything navy) and button down and BORING. Bye, bye blue boy shirt.  

I felt much better when I tossed it into the bag. No longer would I wear clothes that were confining and boring. I’d be hip and cool.

There was just one small problem. This shirt had friends. Lots of them.

Inside my closet was an entire colony of button-down boring shirts. In all kinds of styles. The longer I worked for the man, I kept trying to dress like one with a touch of feminine flair.

Think about it- pink Ralph Lauren shirt with white strips and collar. Ick. And, how about the shirt in the back that made me look like a candy cane?

 They all had to go (much to the horror of my hubby who thought they were great clothes and I’d wear them again sometime. Little did he know the suits were on the chopping block next).

There was probably nothing wrong with this suit. It had cute piping, a slender skirt and was a nice departure from stodgy with three-quarter sleeves.

There was one slight problem. Okay two.

First, it was a suit and unless someone died or I had to meet with the president of Hallmark, I wasn’t planning on wearing one ever gain.

Second, it was navy. Enough said.

This suit I wore to a New York Life semi-formal event. It’s black with polka dots and at the time was quite pretty.

That was a lifetime ago.

The bows and shiny satin stuff were enough to throw me over the edge.

Plus, the next time I have a dressy event, I’m going to rock it in a black number that requires Spanx and a lot of jewelry.

This one I threw in the bag without hesitation (and I’m sharing with you to mock my clothing taste). It’s plaid.

Who actually wears plaid besides Catholic school girls?

Not me (and I can’t believe I even wore this hot mess.)

So…there you have it. A little sneaky, peaky into the world that was my wardrobe. This, my friends, was just a small representation what I wore in the insurance world. There were so many other, more scary outfits that I got rid of before I had the clever idea to make fun of me, my clothes (and the industry I was in). Now confess, what’s the ugliest thing in your closet?

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