Saturday, December 26, 2009
Muddy Christmas!
Friday, December 4, 2009
Boxing Match With God
AG: Did you not receive kind and loving notes from friends and family, as well as prayers to lighten your heart?
In Loving Memory of Tracye Ford Sellers
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Message to College Admission Consultants: Know Your Audience!
Dear Friends at Vernon, Schmidt and Peters,
Thank you for your letters regarding college admission consulting for our 17 year old daughter, Mackenzie. I have received two such letters over the past few months. However, please remove me from your list since Mackenzie suffers from a disorder called tuberous sclerosis complex, and is moderately mentally retarded. I'm sure you didn't know this, so there is no offense taken. However, it does hurt just a tiny bit every time I receive one of your letters.
You can keep us on the list for our other children, though, who will soon be 13 and 10, respectively. I'm sure that whatever database that supplied you with Mackenzie's name will supply you with theirs as well. Thank you!
Who needs college anyway, when you have a crush on a cutie named Cole?!
New Moon: More Than Just a Vampire Flick
It's a memory I'll cherish forever!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Inflatable Workout Shoes, Anyone?
This just reminds me of all the times I've seen something I wish I had created on my own, thinking damn, if only I did that!
For example, the Don't Sweat the Small Stuff book series. Good Lord, just imagine sitting down at your desk with a scratch pad, scribbling all the things we shouldn't take too seriously. But the author did it, and now we have Don't Sweat the Small Stuff for moms, dads, teens, pre-teens and whatnot. I'm waiting for one to come out for my dogs. They should stop worrying about passing cars, construction workers and the ankles of assorted visitors.
Then there's the Chicken Soup books. This especially peeves me because I'm the queen of sappy sentimentality. Everyone who knows me knows this, having winced at the occasional one-off e-mails I tearfully send reminding them of good times, first kisses, pet funerals and who knows what else. And again, we now have a Chicken Soup book for every need. I refuse to read them.
And then there's the Snuggie. Enough said.
So today I am making a pledge: I will think harder about books and products I can bring to market to enhance the lives of others while making me stinking rich.
For starters, the inflatable workout shoe. How many times have business travelers packed big, bulky workout shoes in their suitcases, using much-needed space with the hope of exercising once they get to their point of destination? And if you're like me, half the time you don't work out anyway so you took up all that space for nothing. Grrrrr. My response to this "pain point" (cool marketing term meaning where there is pain, there is a marketing opportunity) is a shoe that folds flat in your suitcase and can be blown up if you actually want to work out. I've been yakking about this since my corporate training-related travels of 1998, but have yet to make it real. Anyone want to join me? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?
If not, then post your entrepreneurial ideas and let's see if we can team together and make them happen! Of course, don't post anything you're truly serious about, in the case your idea will be lifted and you sue me since I came up with the posting concept in the first place. That would bite.
Ideas, anyone? I'm waiting! In the meantime, I'll be packing my things to get out of this damp hotel room and embark upon my drive home, to Houston. Dare me to stop by the Walgreen's and buy a Snuggie? Hmmmmm.....
Monday, November 9, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Bittersweet Moments
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Forget Super Woman. I'd Like Some Sanity.
I glared at the empty podium as though it would grow arms and hand me a laptop, but alas, it was not to be. So I silently cursed myself. After 25 years in the communications industry, it’s the most basic of rules: Before giving a speech, make absolutely certain you have checked out the room and that all equipment is working. But I had been too busy to check out the room at the Omni Hotel, and too focused on client work and family tasks to see a tiny e-mail floating between hundreds of others sent
the day before. A little note from the Texas Business Alliance’s One Woman Conference organizers informing their speakers that plans had changed; “Please bring your laptop after all,” it said.
I turned and faced the audience, secretly thanking God for my knowledge of the subject matter, love of public speaking, and more than anything, my lifelong ability to use self-deprecating humor when in a bind. After an hour, attendees were laughing, shaking my hand and thanking me for the talk. Whew, that was a close call.
Which got me to thinking: Why the insanity? I’m Type A, as evidenced early in life. “No one can clap erasers and participate in spelling bees at the same time,” wrote Sister Irmita on my fourth grade report card. I admit I've always prided myself on juggling as much or more than others. I even dressed as Super Woman for a Halloween party a few years ago. My energy has always defined me, but with the advent of home, hearth and a consulting business, things have gone a tad awry.
This may be why I rammed my car into a bank pole the other day—another first. I was minding my own business, simply racing at record speed from lunch with a friend to a client meeting while thinking about the kids’ summer camp, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel while stuck in traffic on a congested road under construction. I succumbed to line rage (yes, I have line rage) and took the first shot at a parking lot to get around the traffic. I found out all too soon, though, that I was stranded at a bank which was cornered on every side by ripped-out streets. So I tried to turn the vehicle around, only to get completely stuck in one of the now-abandoned drive-through lanes. I sat in my Volvo SUV, all alone other than the girl in the bank window who counted money with glazed eyes. Fuming at myself as well as the glazed girl who didn't feel compelled to guide me from behind the window, I shifted gears from forward to backward, over and over. Drive-reverse-drive-reverse-drive-reverse. Ugh! I gunned it over the median to straighten out the car. Who knew there was a pole on the left, hiding and just waiting to tear out a chunk of metal? I posted the event on Facebook, much to the guffaws of friends who wrote about incidents of yesteryear, going back to the 80s. Talk about kicking me while I’m down. Well, $1,500 in car repairs later, I won’t be cutting through abandoned parking lots anymore.
I know I’m not alone. With the juggling act of work and life coupled with digital media making us available 24/7, these things can happen. And as covered at yesterday’s One Woman Conference, ladies are still taking on the lion’s share of child rearing activities. What to do? Well, don’t come to me for advice. But there are a few things I’m considering before mistakenly leaving one of the kids at the mall or forgetting a speaking engagement altogether.
Breathe. Upon hearing of my recurring stomach pains (long story and a little gross) my doctor prescribed Yoga. Yoga! Who has the time to stretch? But I succumbed to her demands and just signed up for a class. My 12-year-old is taking it with me so we can have some mother/daughter time. I suppose that’s another way of clapping erasers while participating in spelling bees, but I’m looking forward to it.
Prioritize. Last time I looked, there are only 24 hours per day. Include sleep, eating, exercise and a few other necessities and there are only about 12 – 14 hours to manage home and work activities. There are hundreds of courses by endless consultants on how to do everything from writing personal mission statements to using large and tiny rocks as a metaphor for prioritization. I’m shooting for simplicity. I will take a good chunk of time redefining top priorities for my family, life, and business. After that, I will spend 30 minutes every morning and base the day’s activities on the aforementioned priorities. When surprises occur, I will apply the breathing activities learned at aforementioned Yoga.
Don’t question yourself. I dislike disappointing people, but one of the joys of being over 40 is that I’m caring less and less. For example, I left a recent awards dinner about a half hour early to be with a sick child, only to be lambasted by a woman who caught me tip-toeing out with my goodie-bag in hand. I wasn’t on the planning committee but she simply felt that given my role in the organization, I should stay to the bitter end. I decided, shame on me, that she could cram her awards. Consider another situation...many, actually...in which I was criticized by some well-meaning church friends for choosing to work outside the home. Their comments made me question myself for years, but no more! If I didn’t work then I wouldn’t have my consulting business now, and I love what I do (as long as I’m not so busy I’m ramming my car into stationery objects). Sometimes we forget that we can’t do it all. No one is Super Woman, or Super Man. This is when we should breathe, prioritize, and participate in activities based on goals and values that only we can fully understand. Most of all, we shouldn't question ourselves.
Find someone who “gets it.” I have an eclectic taste in friends—if I put them all in a room they wouldn’t know what to say to each other—but there’s nothing like a friend or colleague who really walks in your shoes. Social media like Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter can make it easy to find a group of people who do what you do and feel the way you feel. I rarely reach out to others for advice, most likely since I’m short on time and just a little proud, but I may consider it now and then. We can always learn something new from someone else.
And, if none of these things work, there are life coaches and other professionals to help us get the most out of life. At yesterday’s Texas Business Alliance event, there were hundreds of professionals who have to remind themselves to breathe, prioritize, avoid questioning themselves and find common experiences with others.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Mackenzie Mudd, age 16: Sweet, funny, lover of Sponge Bob, horses and stuffed animals. Known to strip naked at Halloween parties, take 10 baths a day and laugh maniacally for no reason, compliments of tuberous sclerosis complex. Life is never dull with the Skenz! (Note: TSC still sucks.)
Juliette Mudd, age 12: Honors student, drill team dancer, party girl. Hates piano lessons. Has inherited father's sense of humor, intellect, and nutty professor demeanor. Frequently misplaces shoes, glasses and phone, demanding whereabouts from innocent bystanders. Still thinks I'm cool.
Karenna Mudd, age 9: Smart, sassy girlie-girl. Sings like an angel. Hates piano lessons. Big hearted, social butterfly (like me!); feisty and dramatic (uh, like me). Has perfected the art of eye-rolling. Dreams of being a fashion designer.
Vaneta, our nanny of 4 years: Fun, friendly, loving, and just a little nuts...a necessity for working with us. Brings her three small dogs to work, where they hang with assorted Mudd pets. Marches to the beat of her own drum and we love her for it!
Mudd cats, left to right: Sasha, age 10; talents--eating pet fish out of fish bowls and vomiting in high traffic areas. Petunia, age 5; talent--answers to the name "Howard."
And then there's me. I'll let you develop your own opinions.