The Sunny Side of Marketing

Honey Sunshine.

‘Happiness,’ ‘nature,’ ‘organic,’ and ‘health’ pop into mind.

After studying and working in marketing for almost a decade and a half, I’ve grown fairly jaded to brand messaging. Whether it’s coming from a noteworthy manufacturer or Washington’s political spin masters, successful marketing boils down to the people who can craft the most convincing message and sell it.

As a mom, I’m wary of the ads shoved down our kids’ throats in between cartoons, at the store, and even at school. If anyone is marketing anything to my kids, it should be me. Then again, when you have stubborn children, no amount of positive messaging will sway them.

Those of you with kids who are picky eaters know that getting kids to eat is all about presentation. The concepts ‘It’s good for you,’ ‘There are starving children in Africa,’ and ‘Just try it; you’ll like it’ are like super-glue on our kids’ lips the minute they’re uttered.

Honey Sunshine.

Two words spoken in an excited and energetic tone were all it took to get my four-year-old to try a healthy breakfast cereal. He knows honey is sweet and sunshine makes him happy. I didn’t have to explain what the food was, how it would benefit him, or why he couldn’t have cookies for breakfast instead. He even ended up asking for two extra bowlfuls of an adult cereal made from organic whole grains.

Honey Sunshine™ was able to do something I’ve been fighting four years to accomplish. They got my picky kid to eat without a fight.

Thanks, Kashi, for your brilliant marketing tactic. You just won yourself a repeat customer.

Man, Father, Daddy

A man is a boy, though older and wiser.
With no strings attached, life is his oyster.

A father is a figurehead,
A person who gave you life and kept you fed.
His presence, whether permanent or fleeting,
Often feels no warmer than a stranger’s greeting.

A daddy kisses boo-boos, makes pain go away,
Cops and robbers, catch, and tea party he’ll play.
He lends an ear or two whenever you need it;
There’s always a spot on his shoulder for tears when you’re defeated.
Daddies are strong, strict, and they’ll tell you whose boss,
But they’re great big teddy bears, who won’t let you get lost.

As the years go by and childhood fades,
He’ll forget you’re an adult and long for easier days,
Times filled with laughter, silliness, and singing
Instead of cars, proms, college, and weddings.
He’s tough as a nail, soft as marshmallow,
But you can always count on him for he’s never hollow.

Men, understand this reality—
A new generation lies in your hands of responsibility.
You’re so much more than a father ever can be
When you grow from a man and become a daddy.

Happy “Daddy’s” Day!

To my Apuka ~ You showed me what it meant to work hard, have fun, and love with all of my heart unconditionally. I hope one day my kids will learn the same from me. Most es mindig, sok szeretettel gondolok rad. Puszi, A.

To my man ~ Thank you for trying your hardest to be the best daddy every day. Parenting is by far the toughest challenge we’ve faced together, but it’s also the most rewarding. I love you!

Lost & Found at Sea a.k.a. Independence vs. Stupidity

Unless you’re living under a rock, you’ve heard about Abby Sunderland, the 16-year-old California teen who tried to sail around the world alone. Circumnavigating during the southern hemisphere’s winter season, she expected to hit massive storms and 30-foot plus tall waves.

Since she began her quest to be one of the youngest kids to sail solo around to the globe, she’d been plagued by technological difficulties—the latest of which broke her boat’s mast and knocked out satellite communications last Thursday. Thankfully, a French fishing boat rescued her after rescuers from Perth, Australia were able to locate her from a plane.

Her parents say she’s been sailing since she was a little kid and they never once questioned her desire to go it alone. In fact, they encouraged her adventure.

As a parent, one of the most difficult challenges we face every day, starting the day our babies are born, is letting our kids go to experience life. The biggest obstacle is determining when to cut the proverbial umbilical cord.

"In this day and age we get overprotective with our children. If you want to look at statistics, look at how many teenagers die in cars every year. Should we let teenagers drive cars? I think it'd be silly if we didn't," said Laurence Sunderland, Abby’s father.

Excuse me, Mr. Sunderland, but I beg to differ with your sentiment. Traffic accidents happen in civilization where our children have a fighting chance of getting emergency medical treatment that could very well save their lives. Sending our children alone into the wilderness, hours and days away from safety and help, is condoning a suicide mission.

The fact that Abby survived is a miracle. Had she perished at sea, I wonder if her parents would still take this cavalier attitude? Would they picture their daughter gasping for breath as a 30 foot wave swallows her? Would they imagine she drowned while being trapped under her overturned boat? Would they regret their decision to let her go every day for the rest of their lives?

I don’t care how experienced, courageous, or adventurous Abby is as a sailor. At 16, she is too young to vote, drink, and (in some states) even drive. She is a child. Until she turns 18, she is her parents’ responsibility and her parents—like all parents—should do everything in their power to protect her and keep her safe from herself, others, and, as in this case, Mother Nature.

Life, Death, and the Choices in Between

We drive through the intersection and I cringe waiting for the question.

“Mommy, when is Melodie coming back,” my four-year-old asks for the third time this week.

He keeps asking not because I don’t provide an answer. He asks because he doesn’t understand the answer.

“Melodie is in heaven, sweetie,” I say.

How do you explain the intangible to a child? A year ago, Melodie was a smart, happy, shy but friendly nine-year-old. A year ago today, she went for a walk with her dad when a drunk driver struck her as she crossed the street. A year later, our community is still grappling with the aftermath of this tragic and avoidable accident which devastated her family and friends.

We pass through the intersection and my son pushes on, “How did she get there?”

Struggling with a way to explain it in terms he can understand, I say, “Her ghost went there and now she’s with God, the angels, and all the people who love her there.”

He nods and looks through the window visibly trying to process this concept as my thoughts drift to the “What ifs?” of the situation.

What if the man riding his motorcycle that night had someone who could take away his keys? What if he was jailed or had his license revoked for the six other DUIs he committed over the years (a scary thought to consider—he was only caught six times; how many other times did he get away with it and put himself and others in danger)? What if in the split second that he started the ignition he changed his mind and decided not to go for a ride that night? What if he started his ride two minutes later?

Lifting another bottle of beer to his lips, inserting the key in the ignition, driving 60+ mph in a 35 zone – what if he didn’t make just one of these decisions? So many choices yet the one he made had irreversible consequences.

Every day we make decisions that impact those around us. While our intent is never to harm anyone, what if a split second choice altered our reality and lives forever?

The police tape, chalk outlines, and flower memorial are long gone, but the imprint of that moment in time can never be erased. Tomorrow when we drive through the intersection my son will ask again. I’ll tell him about heaven and we’ll say another prayer for Melodie.

And I’ll think about her unapologetic murderer as he rots in his tiny jail cell and how one tiny decision could’ve altered his fate and saved a little girl’s life.

I Never...

To the Keepers of My Heart:
• I never understood why life was a miracle until I became pregnant and felt you moving inside of me.
• I never knew how much I could truly love someone unconditionally until your tiny hand grasped my finger the day you were born.
• I never knew what it meant to be overprotective until you left my arms for the first time.
• I never felt fear until you learned to roll over (it’s only grown every day since then…).
• I never hurt until I had to hold you for the nurses to give you shots.
• I never knew my heart could explode with joy until you wrapped your arms around my neck tightly and hugged me for the first time on your own.
• I never laughed more in life than in the years you taught me to not take life so seriously.
• I never knew the pain of heartbreak until I felt it through your first disappointment and the day you realized happiness is a blessing not shared by everyone, every day.
• I never felt real pride until the day you took your first step, wrote your first letter, painted your first picture, or stepped courageously into preschool on your own.
• I never understood just how quickly time flies until I look back on the past nine years and realize it literally seems like yesterday that you were little, helpless babies dependent upon me and your dad for everything.
• Until I became a mom, I never truly appreciated the sacrifices my own mom made to raise me, teach me, love me, and let me go.
• I never truly believed in a higher power until we met for the first time.

In the very instant you were born, my life changed permanently, eternally. It was a moment that couldn’t be seen or even described in words. It was a feeling, but a feeling so monumental I knew my life—my very existence—would never be the same.

You are more precious than diamonds and sweeter than honey. And without you, my life would be a moonless, starless night. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. I love you infinitely.
Mommy

PS 1—I love you, Mom. Thanks for being the best (& most patient) mom ever!
PS2—To my husband, thank you for making me the happiest woman, wife, and mother!
PS3—Happy Mother’s Day to everyone who is a mom—biologically or otherwise—and makes a positive difference in the lives of children.

Golf Decorum: F*&% That!

Maybe I’m a jaded sports fan, after all, I follow baseball in all of its American hot dog, popcorn, beer guzzling glory. Am I the only one in this world who thinks the Tiger Woods swearing incident has been blown way out of proportion?

Intriguing headlines alluding to Woods’ reprehensible antics were plastered on all internet search engines over the past few days. Eventually they wore me down and I opened a link to find Tiger’s horrific language quoted in an article describing his offensive tantrums at Masters.

Be forewarned, I’m about to quote his absolutely unforgivable words after he played below expectations. Ready for it?

“Tiger, you suck!” & “Jesus Christ”

Oh, my God! I can’t f*&^#$%’ believe he used such God d%^$ language to describe such a sh^&&$ performance.

Now I’m well aware that golf is a “proper” sport in that there are rules of decorum and sportsmanship which are expected to be followed. But for all that’s holy, you just need to watch any live sports game (baseball and hockey in particular) and while you can’t hear it, you can certainly see endless strings of very creative and unrepeatable expletives flying without hesitance from the mouths of some of our most popular athletes.

For Pete’s sake, Tiger didn’t direct his offensive language at anyone else. He was having a bad day and was pissed at himself. Let a man speak his mind. And if his words were too fiery for the golf broadcasts, perhaps they should think twice before sticking a mic on or near him. Let the guy play his game. He’s got far bigger problems off the green this year than overly conservative sportscasters balking at swear words even grandmas use occasionally.

Source: Yahoo! Sports

Picture from "The Campus Socialite"

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad...Earthquake?

“Aren’t you afraid?” It’s the one question we always get asked from non-Californians. The answer is emphatically, “No.”

The recent domino effect of earthquakes in Haiti, the Midwest, Chile, and right here in good ole gold country have sparked renewed interest in the inevitable Big One expected to hit the west coast sooner rather than later. (Actually, if you’re looking for some truly scary statistics, click here to see the earthquakes around the world from the past 30 days; I stopped counting after 200. Better yet, in the past week there have been 1185 earthquakes in the U.S. alone, most of them located from Alaska down the length of the west coast.)

Most non-Californians see this state as one of the few places left with golden opportunities. With its breathtaking coastline and redwood forests to celebrity-soaked beaches and national parks, California is truly a beautiful state that has everything from sun, palm trees and surfing to mountains, snow and skiing. The ugly reality lying miles below the fun stuff we enjoy is the San Andreas Fault line.

Running through nearly the entire state, the line itself is merely miles from my house. Tremors occur every day, though we rarely feel them. However, we’ve had two around the 4.0 range in the past two to three months.

The fact is that I felt more earthquakes in Reading, PA than I have here in earthquake prone California, which brings me to my point.

Let's face it. There’s no completely safe place to live. The northeast has debilitating blizzards. The southeast has hurricanes. And let’s not forget the twisters of the Midwest and south. Earthquakes happen all over the U.S. as do wildfires and rainstorms. Even Alaska and Hawaii have earthquakes and are prone to tsunamis.

So, are we afraid of the big one—a supposed 9.0+ magnitude quake expected to hit California within the next 30 years? I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared, but we can’t live in fear. Perhaps the question isn’t so much about why we choose to live in an area prone to natural disasters, but whether or not we’re prepared to deal with the consequences.

It doesn’t matter how much food and water we have stockpiled along with emergency supplies (though it certainly helps). My biggest concern is living every day to the fullest and squeezing the most out of every last second until my body forces my eyes shut each night. As the horrors of Haiti and Chile have shown, everything can be taken away in mere seconds when we least expect it.

What’s the lesson? Love with your whole heart today for who knows what tomorrow will bring.

Sources:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/7832219/
http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/recenteqsus/
http://www.usatoday.com/tech/science/2010-03-01-chile-quake-lessons_N.htm?se=yahoorefer
San Andreas Fault Map – David K. Lynch