Monday, October 6, 2008

Clean Mean Erasing Machine!


With two very active boys, I'm not a huge fan of the phone. On the rare occasion that I do make the mistake of picking it up during waking hours, all hell breaks loose. Immediately, my house is filled with the sounds of screams and crashes. When visions of your children wrestling with lamps are the only images that could possible fit the clamor going on in the next room, it's hard to remain cheerful and attentive with the person on the other line. Occasionally, however, I've tried to converse while one child was sleeping and the other pleasantly distracted with a hundred piece puzzle. 


HA! That actually doesn't happen here. 


One day, Zip was sleeping, and I thought that Tizzy was satisfactorily distracted, so I called my neighbor. After we’d talked for about fifteen minutes, I became eerily aware of a profound silence. 


“Something is definitely not right,” I said. “Let me call you back.”


“Tizzy?” I called.


“In here, Mama,” he replied pleasantly from the far reaches of the bathroom.


I opened the door, and our creamy white bathroom was now brilliant shades of orange, fuschia, purple, blue, turquoise and red. 


I stood there stunned as I took it all in. He smiled at me, pleased with his artwork. Not a single surface had been neglected. In his hands were two micro-thin pens and on the walls, the toilet, the bathtub, the cabinets, and even the mirror, were skinny, squiggly lines, infinitely spiraling upward toward the far reaches of wherever his lithe little body could reach.


While I’m all for expressionistic art, we rent our house, and I’m ultimately hoping to reclaim our deposit, though that’s looking more and more doubtful each day.


When I first discovered Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, I was more than a bit skeptical. When it comes to cleaning products, I’m more of a lemon, baking soda, and vinegar gal, so I found it hard to believe that these dense white sponges could be so effective without being horribly poisonous. Yet, there are no warnings of toxicity, only against harm due to abrasion. Showing them to my husband, he determined they must be a made of a magical micro-fiber, to which I said, “Hallelujah!” 


Fortunately, I had one in my cabinet, and, if the darn thing hadn’t warned against handling by toddlers (due to abrasion), he’d have had as marvelous a time erasing his masterpiece as he’d had creating it.


We’ve also had the pleasure of erasing a pencil-etched “storm” in the hallway, ball point, pen graffiti tags on my mom’s computer screen, and endless footprints marched across the boys bedroom wall.


Now, I’m thinking that, as long as they don’t throw a rock through the window or kick a hole through the wall, our deposit may, in fact, be safe after all, thanks to Mr. Clean.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

***Gonna Take You For A RIde In My Car Car!***


Hanging out with fellow bloggers, eating hors d’oeuvres and appetizers, and spending an evening away from my testosterone-driven home has become my favorite personal past-time. So, in August, when the lovely ladies of GM invited me to spend an evening with The Silicon Valley Mom Bloggers, so we could admire their new Chevy Traverse, I jumped at the chance.

I am not, by nature, a car person.  When Brad and I moved back from New York, six years ago, I hadn’t owned a car in seven years, and he hadn’t owned one in twelve. We both agreed that our next car had to be fuel-efficient, so we leased the newly released 2002 Toyota Prius. We were so happy with it that, when our lease ran out, we bought it, and then went on to upgrade it for the ’07 model with a family-friendly hatchback and better safety features. 

We’re not naive enough to believe that we’re saving the environment with the car we drive, but we wanted to put our money where our mouth is, and in the long run, we wanted to save money at the pump. While people initially criticized that the hybrids would never save money, with gas prices reaching well over $4 a gallon this summer, we definitely noticed the difference.

That being said, I know there are multiple reasons for driving a larger car. If we added just one more child to our family, we would no longer be able to use our vehicle as the family car. As it is, when friends and family visit us from out of state, they have to rent a car just to leave the house with us collectively. While we’ve managed to camp and travel easily thus far, by next summer, with a few more inches added to their legs, we will no longer be able to use the leg room in front of our children as precious cargo space. We will have to add a rack to the top of our car, which will, in effect, reduce our fuel efficiency.

Don’t think for a moment that I haven’t fantasized about all the perks of having room to spread out and change my children while out and about, go to Ikea without removing car seats and leaving my husband home with the kids, or simply parking my kids in the way back row when I’m feeling particularly irritated by their whining or fighting. However, in the same way that a larger house would just mean more rooms to clean, I am happy with my compact, and plan to live with it for at least another 100,000 miles.

If I were to need a larger car, I can imagine considering the Chevy Traverse. It is sophisticated, sleek, and comfortably seats eight. I can attest to its spacious legroom, individualized climate control, including two sun roofs, and tinted windows, which eliminate the painful screams of children being blinded by the setting sun. I was also quite impressed with the holding space. All of the back seats fold flat into the floor, so you don’t have to worry about taking them out and replacing them when in need of extra cargo space. 

For those who consider DVD players a necessity, you are in luck. It has a DVD player with screens in both back rows. One criticism that I shared with another mother of boys, was that the control panel was located within reach of twitching feet, and had protruding knobs, which we both imagined would prove too enticing to not kick off after the first couple of rides. I’m not sure if there is an age where this would no longer be a problem, but it certainly should be a consideration, unless you plan to banish your Stomp lovin’ children to the furthest reaches of the cabin until they’re no longer prone to restless outbursts.

I really enjoyed hearing about the design of the car from Grace Lieblein and Sue Wilson, two of the engineers behind the Traverse. Knowing that it would appeal to women as the primary drivers of the family car, they carefully considered the needs of moms, and included helpful compartments and hiding places for purses, sun glasses, phones and electronic devices, as well as multiple cup holders. 

However, to get me to let go of my Prius, they would have to add another 30 mpg to its existing 24, or I would have to add another child to my family, both of which are unlikely any time soon. I did have a wonderful time hanging out with the interesting and intelligent women keeping me company that late August night, and I thank GM for hosting the gathering and including me in this sneak preview.