Monthly Archives: February 2010

My New Scent, a.k.a. I’m Obsessed

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Years ago in the Clinton era, I was a swinging single in San Francisco. I used to wear Issey Miyake perfume. I’d put on my short skirts, vest without shirt, short blazer (think Melrose Place), chunky high heel loafers, a splash of Miyake and work it! A guy friend used to inhale me as I came near. It actually was kind of a problem as we were always dating different people, but my scent made him wild, and I was wild for the attention.

Then one day I saw that friend, and he didn’t inhale.

“It doesn’t work anymore.”

“What?”

“Your scent, it changed. The Miyake, it doesn’t work. It’s gone,” and he walked off to crush on another woman’s smell.

I had sensed what he said. My scent wasn’t working.

Then in the zeros, it was Michael Kors. That was my smell. I put on jeans, with high heels, an empire shirt, and rode the ups and downs of the ’00s with Michael Kors. I landed a husband, so it must have been okay.

But while my previous scents were about attracting men and feeling sexy, my newest scent holds for me the association of prosperity, security, a newly remodeled bathroom in a big house. In short, what most woman want as they approach middle age. Let me explain.

Shortly after we got the bad Madoff news, my co-host Lawrence Zarian gave me a bottle of Jo Malone Lime Basil and Mandarin bath oil.

I took it home to my beautiful house that I knew we would have to sell soon and plunged my big pregnant body in a warm bath with a splash of this new scent. I was transported. Does it smell like Lime basil and mandarian? No, it smells like a fresh start. It smells like my bills are paid, and I’m pretty. I can’t explain it, I need a scratch and sniff web site. What else are you going to do to unwind when you are pregnant? Run? No. Drink? No. Pop a tranquilizer? That would be another no. I would breathe in the clean, fresh, spring, soapy-like scent of the Jo Malone and tell myself that it was all going to be OK. That my baby would healthy and we would have another nice home one day, and I wouldn’t be eating cat food at 70. That smell always made me feel better.

Cut to this past Christmas when I asked my husband for knee-high boots and Jo Malone Lime Basil and Mandarin bath oil. They ain’t giving it away, but I figured, hey, we got through this year, time for a treat. Christmas day I got the wrong boots (took them back, added money and got the ones I wanted), and no Jo Malone. I said to Mark, “Um, you said you were at Nordstorms. I told you EXACTLY what I wanted.”

Him, “But then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Argh! I am slightly embarrassed to say how bummed I was about this. I was, a tad furious. I had been waiting to sniff the stuff in my smaller, but nice, rented house and do my affirmations for the new year.

Once again I had to take matters in my own hands. And Voila, here it is. (I also got their vitamin E body balm. The smell is different; see if that shapes up my arm skin.)

And on a rough day, the smell still makes me happy.

Hello, scent for the teens.

Momversation Autism Debate

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Well, this report hit the mommy world. At Momversation.com I was asked to load up my response along with Mindy and Heather Spohr. When the report first appeared in The Lancet linking the MMR vaccine to Autism, it was a big deal. Now, The Lancet has taken it back citing lapses in the research and a relationship that the researcher had with a lawyer working with Autism groups that was not previously disclosed. I just heard the head of The Lancet on the radio, and he said that because of this they would not longer publish speculative studies, even if they did help further science one day because they are too public and too prone to hysteria.

Does this retraction change your mind about the link? Or about vaccines in general?

Quaker Oats Create Your Day Update

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For every oatmeal creation that is made on their Web site (up to 25,000), Quaker Oats will donate $1 to Share Our Strength, which goes to feeding hungry children.  We are more than halfway to our goal of 25,000 oatmeal creations and can get to 25K with your continued help! We’re almost there!  So, go to Quaker Create Your Day, and make an oatmeal creation.  Thanks!


BFF

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A friend said to me, “You know it’s always a bad idea when a parent tries to be friend to their kid, instead of being a parent.” Sure, right, don’t go buy them beer and talk about what a slob their dad is. But let’s face it, when your kids are who you are with 90% of the time how can they not become your best friend? Your BFF. There is nothing wrong with that, right?

Cookbooks for a Cook?

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Home cooks and foodies ask me what cook books Mark has. He has so many I made him throw lots out before our last move, and he still has boxes of them. But here are two that my sister Carole gave him for his birthday. One about old-school cocktails, natch. And somehow she got her hands on Pearl Bailey’s cook book.

Raise your hand if you remember Pearl Bailey. It’s great because it is written exactly how she use to speak. The recipes are not written out like a cookbook normally is. She just tells you how Pearl does it.

Pre-School Fashion

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Am I the only mom that gazes at the girls in pre-school and picks out admirable fashion? I have often uttered to a 3 year old, “I’d wear that.” Some things only a little kid can get away with.  When Vivien puts on striped tights, a flower dress, and super hero cape and says to me, “Momma, can I wear this?”

I say, “Sweetie, you are 4; knock yourself out. Wear whatever you want.” Unsaid? “Because it’s the only time you will feel this free.”

Granted at school drop off, I’m usually at my schlompiest best (but it fits). Here’s a dress of Vivien’s I wish was in my size. She doesn’t wear it much because it’s not pink or purple, but I love it. And it’s made of heavy velvet; it has a nice hand.

I’ll be clutching that one to my chest years from now.

Another Milestone

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I keep hoping Rex sleeping in a room with Vivien will stick. But he is still kind of noisy baby, and their sleep schedules are so different that most of the time I have to keep them separated. Which means Rex is either in Oliver’s room (when Oliver is elsewhere) or in the play room… a.k.a. the kitchen.

Sometimes it bums me out that he sleeps in the kitchen. Other times I think, hey Barack Obama grew up in an apartment; his wife’s whole family lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and they certainly did well for themselves. Look at Michael Douglas’s son; he is facing a 10 year prison sentence, and his mother is selling their 29 million dollar home. So, the physical structure in which a child grows up doesn’t mean that much… as long as they have some structure over their head.

I digress. This is about a crib. And here is my husband making a cameo as… my husband.

V Day

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Only two weeks to start feeling conflicted, miserable, or immune. That’s right. Valentine’s Day is almost here.

Most of the time it’s positioned as a lover holiday, but I liked those store-bought Valentine’s that we used to exchange in elementary school. You know, if you give one to one, you give it to all. I just loved giving them and getting them. I didn’t think, “The school makes everyone in your class give them.”  I thought, “Wow, look at all these valentines!”

When I was about 11, I made or bought, can’t remember, Valentine’s presents for my sister and parents. They didn’t give me anything, but I didn’t think about it. Then I went to do errands with my mom. She ran into the grocery store while I dreamed of putting money in a bank (I don’t remember where in the shopping center I was). Anyway, my mom pulled up, and I got in the car. On the passenger’s seat was a potted red tulip. She said I had been so sweet to everyone else on Valentine’s Day, and she wanted to do something for me.  It made me so happy.

I think that was the high point.