Archive for the ‘Cindy’s Thoughts’ Category

As a parent the excitement builds the night before. You’re so giddy with anticipation you can’t sleep. You toss and turn waiting for morning light and the hope it brings. You replay all the Staples commercials in your head and agree that it is The Most Wonderful time of the Year. On the first day of school a parent’s expression resembles a kid’s expression on the last day of school.

On the first day of school a parent jumps out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning. Miraculously, overnight the aches and pains that usually slow them down in the morning have vanished and they’ve adapted a new personal mantra – the world is great, the kids will be gone at eight. It is this mantra they play over and over in their head as they float down the stairs to assemble lunches. It is this mantra they sing as they get the kids dressed and fed. It is this mantra they sing as they fling open the front door and wait to hear the roar of the school bus.   

It is this mantra they’re singing twenty minutes later for the bus to come whisk their children off to school. It is this mantra they’re still singing (be it) a little less enthusiastically 45 minutes later when calling the bus company to find out where the hell the bus is.

An hour later, putting on socks and shoes to take the kids to school they’ve made some changes to their mantra – the world is!!***!! And why the!!***!! are the kids still here when it’s after eight? Excitement is replaced with puzzlement as to how a bus driver can get lost with all the electronic devices available to them today. There’s a wonderful device called a GPS. Get one! Use it! If the bus isn’t equipped with a GPS, the driver should use the one available on their phone. With a GPS buses would run on time and parents could go back to chanting – the world is great, the kids will be gone at eight!


I saw a news story about a professional potty trainer who claims she can train your kids in two days for $1,750. For parents who don’t have time, are at wits end and want to outsource, this is a viable option.

She has a simple approach – loads the kids up with liquid and sets the timer to buzz every forty minutes. If the timer goes off every forty minutes it means the lady does leave the house. The real challenge would be to potty train a kid on the go.

Why, parents know that sometimes it takes forty minutes to get a fidgeting kid into a snowsuit. By the time she’d dress them in their snowsuit, gloves, hat and boots, her forty minutes would be up and she’d have to undress them. They won’t have time to make a snowball… but they may make the snow yellow.

Sometimes it takes forty minutes to pack the car for a trip to Grandma’s. Bye the time she’d pack the baby bag, high chair, toys, portable crib, stroller and play pen, her forty minutes would have come and gone. 

Some may question if hiring an expert is a missed opportunity for parent and child to bond. If a parent no longer changed their kids diaper then they would no longer see the creamed corn and be reminded of last night’s dinner. If a parent no longer changed their sons diaper they wouldn’t worry about going blind from all the times their son squirted them in the eye. You would think a kid with perfect aim like that would be a natural at hitting the Cheerio at the bowl’s bottom; but they’re not, which is why you use the gold star reward system.

Recently I found an old calendar filled with gold potties reminding me of the potty wars with my kids. My oldest would sit on the potty for an hour, finally stand up, move over and go on the floor. My son would have preferred to eat the Cheerio rather than pee on it. And I thought my youngest would go straight from Pull Ups to Depends.

The calendar served as a reminded that time goes by in a blink of an eye… a dry eye that is.

 I read an article in USA Today that the average time in restaurants is getting longer because of “phone zombies.” A ‘phone zombie” tweets, texts, instagrams, looks at photos and lingers at their table making for an unreasonably long meal. I wasn’t surprised to read this as lately I’ve been held up in all kinds of situations thanks to the “phone zombie.”

One time I was at a traffic light and when the light turned green I waited for the car in front of me to go. When it didn’t go, I went around and saw that the driver was texting, oblivious to the fact the light was green and he was holding up traffic.

Another time I was in an elevator filled with people. When the elevator stopped at the second floor and nobody exited we all turned to look at the guy who pressed the # 2 button when he entered. This man was on his phone and oblivious to the fact he reached his floor and kept others waiting.

Then there was the time I waited to use a one-stall public restroom. I heard the women inside talking and assumed she was in there with someone. When she exited I realized she was alone, but talking on her phone. This woman was oblivious to the fact that she kept others waiting and spoke unnecessarily loud on her phone.

But, the most unbelievable situation was when I was in the hospital emergency room. A doctor attempted to talk to the patient in the bed next to mine; the patient who was on his phone, signaled for the doctor wait. After the doctor made two attempts he walked away and I overheard him say to the nurse, “Get him off the phone and then get me.” I couldn’t blame the doctor for being angry with the guy. He was probably having a nice enjoyable meal at some restaurant where he was instagraming, tweeting and texting when he was pulled away from dinner and came to work to deal with a “phone zombie.” Why it would have served that guy right if the doctor had posted pictures of his ruptured appendix on his phone and all over social media. It’s called “phone zombie” revenge.

I stepped in melted ice cream on the street the other day. Melted ice cream is a given come the hot weather when kids and adults alike enjoy the cool treat outside. Come summer when people picnic and barbecue walking becomes a perilous sport. It’s best to put down your phone and pay attention to where you step before you step in something you shouldn’t. Ketchup from a packet squirts pretty far when stepped on… take it from one who knows.

When it’s hot people go from eating while driving to eating while walking. Oh, you’ll still get the person who eats in their car, like the guy in his car who I saw eat French fries and then wipe his hands on his shirt. Classy. And there’s the lady who leaves you in disbelief because she’s holding an ice cream cup in one hand, shoveling the spoon into her mouth with the other hand, while trying to make a turn. You wonder about certain people.

Peach day is a big celebration at our local farmer’s market. People walk around eating peaches and a variety of fruit. After sampling the peaches my husband and I sat on a bench to eat a funnel cake heaped with confectioner’s sugar. No matter how you eat it, a funnel cake is messy. If you’re eating it on a windy day it’s best not to wear black. Take it from one who knows. Specks of powdered sugar dotting the bench were our calling card. A bird flew overhead while we ate and dropped a present. His calling card was covered in confectioner’s sugar. The people who eat in their cars never have such problems. I think they know better.

Sitting on the beach, catching some rays and listening to the peaceful, rhythmic, sound of the waves as they lapped against the shore, she watched people come and go. She saw joggers out for their morning run. She saw old married couples walking hand in hand. She saw children building a sand castle.

However, she couldn’t help but watch the two people in the water. A father and daughter in the ocean on a beach filled with people, and yet, you would think the two of them were on their own island. They were oblivious to all others; they were wrapped up in their own world and having fun.

The father held the little girl in his arms, while venturing out into the water. The little girl had her arms wrapped around her father’s neck. Anytime a wave came and crashed against their bodies, almost causing them to topple over, the girl would laugh hysterically and squeeze her arms just a little tighter around her father’s neck. The force of the waves was powerful, but the strength of being held in her father’s arms, arms filled with love, were more powerful. Those arms would not let the little girl fall, she was safe.

Suddenly, watching the father and daughter, she was in another place and time. She was with her own father on vacation at the beach more than 30 years ago. The vacation spot was Atlantic City, N.J. The days always started out the same by waking up early. Waking up early on vacation meant a day filled with activities and fun. Waking up early at home meant a school day! She loved early morning vacation days. You could wake up early to bicycle ride on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. Or ride alone or ride a bicycle built for two. She wanted to ride from one end of the boardwalk to the other. But as always, time ran out before the boardwalk did.

Next, it was onto the beach. Time at the beach was spent soaking up the sun, looking for seashells and always, winding up in the water. Much like the little girl who held onto her father for safety, so did she. Holding hands, together, they would brave the waves. She remembered watching as a big wave approached and wondering who would win out, the wave or her father. The wave would come rushing towards them, using all its force to knockdown and drag her back out with it. Only, it never happened, she held on tight to her father. He won and she was safe.

There were times her father would swim alone and challenge the ocean. It was at these times, instead of waiting for the waves to come to him, he would swim into them. The harder and faster the wave approached, the quicker he would swim. Every time the two met, it seemed as though the wave was the victor as it swallowed him up. She could still hear her mother, calling out her father’s name and waiting for him to reappear in the water. A minute or two would pass, and his head would pop up. He would wave to signal he was safe. Eventually, regrettably, he would come out of the water, just the way the little girl was doing now.

Seeing the little girl emerge from the water instantly brought the lady back to present day. The girl walked straight up to the lady watching her and said, “Hi mommy.” I looked at my daughter and said, “Hi” back. I didn’t ask if she had a good time. From the smile on her face, I knew she did. My daughter never met her grandfather. Yet, I am certain that as sure as my husband’s arms were around her, holding her up and keeping her safe, so were her grandfather’s.

But, oh, what wouldn’t I give to see him wave to me from the ocean one more time.

What constitutes an affair? Sex? Emotions? Which is worse – an affair with just  sex or an affair with emotions involved? I think most women would choose the emotional affair. When you know your spouse has given their heart to someone else, you know you’ve lost them.

The writer of the advice column in my local newspaper wrote, ‘some people mistakenly believe if there’s no sex, there’s no affair. But giving your heart, emotions and innermost thoughts to someone other than your spouse is cheating.’

When you give your heart to someone there’s love. When you lust after someone there’s raging hormones. Love and lust are two separate things. You can lust after someone other than your spouse. It’s love that’ll keep you from breaking your wedding vows. It’s love that holds you to your word of honor. Besides, you know if you got caught you’d be toast. How many of you would cheat if you knew you wouldn’t get caught?

The day of a friend’s wedding she asked me as I applied her makeup, “What if I marry him and then meet Mr. Right?” Excuse me?! She was getting married in an hour! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! Her soon-to-be husband should be Mr. Right and not Mr. Right Now. I suspected love and lust for her would go hand-in-hand and her Mr. Right Now would become Mr. Goodbye.

As a married person you learn loyalty means many things. It means your spouse eats your homemade cake rather than his mother’s (which they like better.) Loyalty means nodding in agreement at whatever your spouse says in public and waiting to yell and disagree later, in private. How could they have said such a crazy thing?

According to my local grocery store’s slogan – ‘loyalty deserves a pat on the back.’ So, tonight in bed, rather than giving my husband a kiss, I’ll give him a pat on the back. It’s what every loyal spouse wants.

Pet Pace, a smart dog collar monitors how a dog feels, its vitals and daily activity. Just look at any dog dressed in a ridiculous holiday outfit their owner put them in and you don’t need a smart collar to tell you they’re not happy; their angry and sad. Yet, every year their owner dresses them like a doll for the holiday photo.

On the heels of this British Airways has introduced the ‘happiness blanket’ which tracks how flyers feel. This ‘high-tech’ blanket changes colour to depict passenger’s emotions during flight by measuring brain waves. When the flyer’s calm and relaxed, the blanket’s blue. If the flyer’s anxious or stressed, the blanket’s red. The airline hopes that monitoring a person’s sleep and relaxation patterns will help change and improve the in-flight experience, providing input about the type and timing of meals, in-flight entertainment and even cabin lighting.

This modern day, highly visible mood ring maybe helpful to the staff, alerting them to passengers who need attention. But if one passenger’s blanket is red it’s just a warning to other passengers – ‘angry flyer in aisle 2 – stay away!’ Sometimes the color of a person’s blanket will have nothing to do with the plane itself; they may just be a nervous flyer.

A nervous flyer’s anxiety can reach its peak before they even board the plane…at security. Anxiety rises when they’re in line behind a stubborn toddler who just learned to tie his shoes and wants to show everyone. Oh, why didn’t his mother buy loafers? Anxiety rises when the TSA tells him they’re studying to become a proctologist and snaps the rubber glove – a little too enthusiastically. Anxiety rises when some blockhead jumps security to give his girlfriend one last kiss, closing down the airport.

I think what we really need is a smart collar for husbands. It would be great to have a collar that tracks your spouse’s mood so you won’t have to. There will be no more guessing if he’s telling the truth or just saying he’s happy to get you to shut up, leave him alone and quit asking, “What’s wrong,” when he’s quiet. Now that’s a brilliant idea.

Some girls plan their dream wedding at the age of twelve – they know what they want… all they need is the man and a dress. Sometimes that dream wedding may come at a price beyond their means. To have that dream wedding, no matter the cost, today’s brides-to-be have started a new trend called ‘Crowdfunding.’

Good Morning America reported that brides-to-be who can’t pay for their wedding are turning to family, friends and even strangers for donations – ‘Crowdfunding.’

Guaranteed if Aunt Sally makes a monetary donation there will be strings attached and she’ll demand certain things. If she covers the cost of flowers, she’ll demand black roses instead of the lilies you want. If Uncle Fred covers transportation he’ll supply motorcycles for the bridal party and tell you, “Rain on your wedding means good luck.” There was chlorine (lots of it) in Uncle Fred’s gene pool. Your estranged cousin (Uncle Fred’s daughter) donates money just so her son can be ring bearer. You know he’ll ruin the wedding and will swallow the rings before he makes it to the altar and your cousin’s counting on it. But, you accept the donation because you need that last $1,000.

If a bride-to-be accepts donations from big businesses, don’t be surprised if her wedding gown is covered in advertisements rather than pearls.

If you have a destination wedding the cost escalates for your guests. It was reported that the average cost for being a bridesmaid today is $1,700. That’s a lot! People want to share in your special day – they just don’t want it to be a financial hardship. If you find yourself breaking the bank and begging for donations for your dream wedding then you might want to consider ‘plan b’ – ELOPE. Planning the perfect marriage is much more important than planning the perfect wedding day.

USA Today reported how hotels are working to help guests fall asleep. The Westin Hotel, New York offers sleep masks, aromatherapy oils and a mattress that adjust to different body zones. The Hard Rock Hotel, Chicago has a Sandman Sleep Menu with amenities such as a sound machine, ear plugs and eye mask. The Westin, New York at Times Square offers “Rest Well Calls.” Guest get a call at night advising them to go to sleep and another one seven to eight hours later.

I think signing up for “Rest Well Calls” is like traveling with your mother. On vacation our mother told us when to go to bed. In the morning she woke us by drawing back the shades to let the sunlight in. She had us up and running bright and early because in her words, “We didn’t want to waste time on vacation sleeping.” This was shocking news to us because we most certainly did want to sleep.

I’ve stayed at hotels where the hotel itself is the reason I can’t sleep. I’ve stayed in hotel rooms too close to the elevator and utility closet that the noise interrupted my sleep. I’ve learned when checking into a hotel to request a room as far away as possible from both. I stayed at a hotel filled with college kids on spring break. Their nighttime entertainment kept me up all night. They were kids on vacation without a bedtime or a mother.

As a kid you always want to stay up past your bedtime. On the nights my mother worked late I would stay up watching Johnny Carson on the Tonight Show. When I heard her car pull up in the driveway I would shut the television, run into my room and jump into bed. Lucky for me she never felt the television; if she did she never let on.

I no longer have my mother to enforce bedtime and wake me up in the morning, but I’ve got a replacement – my neighbor’s dog. Every single morning, bright and early, rain or shine this dog greets the day by waking up the neighbors. I don’t need an alarm clock. This dog and my mother would get along beautifully.


The topless tour started two years ago by two girls after they took an impromptu topless dip in a cold lake in Norway. Since then they’ve been traveling all over and posting topless photos against dramatic backgrounds. When they invited others to join in, the photos poured in. Topless photos – taken from the back – are featured on the social media channels of the Topless Tour.

The tour currently has 20,000 followers on Instagram. Photos are submitted from both men and women. Some describe it as “Liberating and proud of who they are and their bodies.”

Not to take anything away from the men, but isn’t a topless photo of one man on the beach, really every man on the beach? I don’t think a topless photo taken from the back means the same thing to a man as it does a woman. Men have been allowed the pleasure and freedom of going topless since time began. I see topless men all the time mowing the grass, poolside, at the beach and just walking around. It makes sense for an even tan. Men don’t have to worry about bikini lines. Why, even men who shouldn’t parade around shirtless do. I’ve told my husband it’s not fair that men are allowed to walk around topless and women are not allowed. He agrees. He thinks all women should go topless – anywhere, anytime. He’s even thinking of starting a petition.

The thing that concerns me is not everyone’s back is photo worthy. You know what I’m talking about. Some backs are hairy. Some backs have moles requiring the attention of a dermatologist. Some backs have skin tags the size of mini water balloons. Some backs have skin tags that were frozen and have crusted up, waiting to drop. Some backs have scratch marks from … well… anyway.

For certain women a topless photo can be embarrassing when someone looks at your photo and asks, “Hey, why do you have 4 legs?” It’s time to put your blouse back on and cover up your embarrassment.