Everyday Treats

Pivot Boston 3

Roxanna Sarmiento — Tue, 14 May 2013 02:17:57 +0000

It's hard to believe, but we have just (as of this Friday night) put on the latest (sold out!) Pivot Boston event. This one was especially fun, because we focused on Style Pivots.

I mean, style? How much more fun can you have? And how much talk of it can professional Boston ladies stand?

Turns out, a lot of it.

One of the questions we wanted to answer is why is style so intimidating?

Part of the problem is that “style” is often sold as, well, something to buy. As much as I enjoy flicking through fashion magazines and shopping blogs, they do encourage the false notion that “style” can be had as long as you purchase the latest thing. Style has nothing to do with trends or trying on a persona - it’s an expression of who you are and should therefore have some constant truths as well as evolve over time.

Just as you do.

So anyway, we pivoted around style and had some fun.

Sponsor MiniLuxe gave participant quick polish changes...

HoneyJo led master classes on hair (I'm so sad I missed them, because I need help!)

And Epiphanie gave away a gorgeous Charlotte metallic bag in chevron. I totally shed a tear when I handed it over to the winner.

Our title sponsor, One Medical, also gave away complimentary one year memberships to their concierge medical group. (Because you've got to be well to look good!)

If you are in Boston, you can also get the same deal if you register by 6/07/2013. Just go their site, and enter promotion code OM13YBOS06 on the membership confirmation page. (Thanks, One Medical!)

Will I see you at Pivot Boston 4? (I hope so!)

Things my children have cried about in the past month

Roxanna Sarmiento — Sat, 11 May 2013 19:37:56 +0000

Children. They don't know how good they have it.

How to ask for a boy's cut at the barbershop

Roxanna Sarmiento — Thu, 09 May 2013 01:17:05 +0000

I love taking my boys to the barbershop - it's cheaper than a hair salon or one of those kid's cuts places at the mall, and the boys get to be around other men and boys. Barbershops tend to be local institutions, and the vibe is definitely more low-key than at most hair salons.

However, I have the hardest explaining what I want when I go to the barbershop. "Um, something not to short or not too long, you know?"

No, usually the barber doesn't know, and my son ends up looking like Moe. Not good. Just say No to the Moe! The problem is that I don't speak "barber." So I got to googling and found the solution: This guide at haircutsformen.org is a lifesaver. We all know what a "faux hawk" is (thanks Angelina!) but do you know what the "Ivy League", "High and Tight", "Business Man" or a "Burr" is? Well, now you do!

By the way, what I need to ask for is a tapered cut with a natural arch and a tapered nape.

Aah...

Eight

Roxanna Sarmiento — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 12:30:37 +0000

"An eight year old boy died, Mama," my eight year old son said to me. He was looking at his feet.

"And, like, 256 people were injured. It was a nuclear bomb, I think. Obama's looking for the bad guy, but there are too many people in the world. I don't think he'll find him."

I wasn't ready to hear those words come from my eight year old son's mouth. The mouth that currently is a mess of tiny milk teeth and way-too-big adult teeth. So I looked at the floor too. All I could think of was to ask him why he thinks that happened.

"I read it on the TV."

Of course. He can read. He's not a baby. We were out running errands in our little town center, and while people were especially kind and I caught strangers looking at my sons and making the mental calculations -- eight, that's what eight looks like -- the news was everywhere. People stopped talking as we entered shops and turned the volume down on the televisions, but the screens kept rolling the news ticker with the awful truth.

An eight year old boy from Boston is dead.

My eight year old boy from Boston is safe. But he was so afraid. And while I'm not afraid, I was sad -- and now I'm sadder because he knows.

I don't have any wisdom to share. I didn't come up with a sage answer to soothe his fears. All I could do was tell him that, yes, a bad person did a bad thing and a boy died. But that he and his brothers and his friends are safe. And that they will find the bad person that did this, because there are more good people in the world than bad. And, um, how do you know about nuclear bombs?

And then, I had to ask something of him.

"You can talk to me and Papa about this and anything you hear about it. You have nothing to be afraid of. But can you not tell your brothers? It might scare them too much."

"Okay, Mama," he said.

I could see the sadness in his eyes. I hate that he has to know. I hate that he has to protect the innocence of his younger brothers.

And then he tickled me so he could free himself from my arms and went outside to play.

I love you, Boston.

Roxanna Sarmiento — Tue, 16 Apr 2013 01:50:28 +0000

Even casual readers of this blog know that I live in Boston. I'm not a native -- not at all -- but after more than a decade here, I absolutely love it here. Here's the post I wrote once I realized I was in love with this dirty old town.

One of the things I love about Boston is our marathon. I will never run a marathon, but I love the Marathon. I love how accessible it is. You can just jump in and out of the race, if you want. You can high-five your friends as they run by. I find so much inspiration from it. Here's the post I wrote about the last time I was there (with my kids. I can't even go there.).

Today is Patriots day. A quirky Massachusetts holiday. One that heralds the end of winter. A casual, inconvenient holiday -- the eastern part of the state is effectively sliced in half, and getting anywhere is such a pain, it's hardly worth it.

I wasn't at the Marathon today. But when I woke up this morning, I wondered if I should take the kids again.

This is the post where I wonder why people can't just run and have friends and strangers cheer them on in peace?

Minimalist Parenting: Or, how I don't do it all. At all.

Roxanna Sarmiento — Tue, 26 Mar 2013 15:59:50 +0000

When I called my very good friend the other day to wish her a happy birthday, I felt like an awful person because I've been absolutely terrible about staying in touch. After wishing her the happiest of days I started to apologize for being such a horrible friend and dropping the ball, etc... when she interrupted me.

"Just tell me one thing," she asked, "how do you do it all?"

How do I do it all?

ME?

"You have three kids and a husband who travels and a job and you volunteer at both schools and I don't know how you do it..."

I, um, eh...

I confessed that I don't do it all, and then tried to explain, in the five minutes we had before my friend had to get off the phone, in as non-rambly and succinctly a way as possible that we can't do it all and that we need to give each other a break and what's important in life, and all this stuff in the house, let's get rid of it, and, "OK, you've got the get off the phone? I get it love you, bye!"

My point, inelegant as it was, was that we're all stressing out because there's just too much to do. And most of the pressure comes from within. And we have to give ourselves a break.

How do I do it all? I don't. And you don't either, so stop driving yourself crazy.

I just wish that I could have explained it better to my friend. But you know, life.

A few days after that, MINIMALIST PARENTING: Enjoy Modern Family Life More by Doing Less, arrived on my doorstep. It was written by two friends of mine, Christine Koh and Asha Dornfest.*

(I realize that there are a lot of friends on this post, but what can I say? I get by with a little help from them.)

Here's the thing about Asha and Christine and their book: Reading their book is like sitting with your wisest friends and getting the simple, honest truth you need to hear ALONG with simple real-life ways to make said truth part of your life.

I loved the book. I agree with the book. I've always been a minimalist parent at heart (I suspect many of you are) but I've let distractions creep and make me lose my way.

This book is a love letter to moms and dads everywhere, with a simple message: Trust yourself.

I know you know to do this, but how? It's in the book. Seeing it in black and white makes all the difference in the world. TRUST.

Here's what I think you should do: Sign up for MinCamp -- it's free and EASY. You'll get a taste for the book and the Minimalist Parenting approach, and I guarantee you'll get a sense of peace out of the deal.

*Confession: I've only met Asha once, but she is the kind of woman that becomes an instant friend, such is her warmth and kindness. I feel like I've know her forever. And Christine? She's a powerhouse. I know because I've worked with her. And she's fun. I know because we go out for drinks on occasion. In conclusion, these ladies know what's up. Listen to them.

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The Courage to Speak Softly

Roxanna Sarmiento — Thu, 21 Mar 2013 03:05:43 +0000

I loved the book Quiet by Susan Cain. I just discovered her TED talk, and now I'm all pumped up.

Introverts, unite!

I really do crave the quiet space to just think. I surely don't get much of that these days, but when I get an hour to just walk (the dog) and not play music on my iPhone or look at a screen, an hour when I just walk the dog and think (because she doesn't need me to talk to her), that is the hour when the great ideas come.

I am introvert. Hear me roar. (But not too loudly. Or often. Actually, let's just sit quietly...)

A Beautiful Mind

Roxanna Sarmiento — Sat, 09 Mar 2013 18:27:02 +0000

"The Most Beautiful Girl in the World" invented WiFi. Her story is fascinating (including being locked up by her first husband in a castle in Austria -- wow!) but so sad all the same.

I love her quote famous quote: Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid* but when you realize that her smarts were ignored by everyone, it's even more biting.

I wish I could say things have changed, but we all know better.

*As quoted in The Stars (1962)

Sunday Papers and Electronic Wallpaper

Roxanna Sarmiento — Sun, 24 Feb 2013 16:47:06 +0000

So, we are now all sick...thanks, winter break!

It hasn't been too bad for me, I must admit, mainly because the boys are the ones who are sick and not me -- yet I've spent the past two days in my pjs because if they get to do it so do I (poor dears, they actually are quite miserable). In any case, I got to read the Sunday papers for the first time in a while, and I was charmed to see that Lucy Kellaway has the same feelings about ski vacations and snow shoeing as I do:

We clipped the plastic paddles on to our walking boots and set off, crunch, crunch, crunch. Within the first three steps I knew I had found my thing. The trouble with skis is that they encourage you to fall over, whereas snow shoes are designed to keep you upright. Trudging along in them is a bit tiring but you feel so secure that you can look around you, which is surely the whole point.

Great minds and all that.

(Image from the Financial Times)

The other thing which I found mildly terrifying, is that they are now working on electronic wallpaper. Imagine, now you can have Facebook and Twitter and Skype on your walls! (And don't forget the ads and tracking of your every move!)

Isn't that the most awful thing you've ever heard of?

We should enjoy these last few years of relative freedom from the internet. I'm as trapped by technology as anyone, but at least I can let the iPhone battery die out. Being literally surrounded by the internet would drive me crazy. Or crazier, perhaps.

Vermont is so sexy you guys

Roxanna Sarmiento — Sat, 23 Feb 2013 20:59:55 +0000

For those of you who don't follow me on Facebook/Twitter/Instagram (really, is there any way to avoid a blogger these days?) I feel compelled to update you on what has happened in my life since The Blizzard.

Here's a hint:

Yes! Snow! And then, more Snow! Because, we are morons, apparently.

We rounded up the kids and every piece of fleece and waterproof clothing in the house and joined some friends in Vermont for February vacation. I'm not going to lie, if it was up to me, we would have gone somewhere less frigid -- but in the end the vacation was lovely. Turns out I love snowy mountains, as long as I'm not forced on skis.

Yes, I tried skiing AGAIN. Despite my hatred for the cold and slippery side of winter. I hate driving in snow, hell, I hate walking in snow...so I really have no business downhill skiing. BUT I'm married to an Austrian, and I hadn't been on skis since a disastrous lesson back when we were dating. I probably don't need to tell you that that lesson ended in tears. Well this one didn't end in tears, but in stoic resignation.

It did, however, begin in tears. I had an epic meltdown when they ran out of poles and no one could decide if beginners needed poles or not and OMGIAMNOTMADEFORTHISSTUPIDSPORT! STAB! STAB! HATE.

By the end of the two hour lesson I was smugly counting down the seconds, because it meant that I will never get on skis again. I will leave that to my children and husband.

However, I was on a mountain called Mt. Snow for goodness sake, so I had to find something to do in the white stuff. So I tried snowshoeing and I loved it!

The snowshoeing group consisted of a bunch of badass grandmas and me. Not surprisingly, the grandmas were in much better shape than I am, since I had to ask for breaks twice during our two hour hike up Mt. Snow. The so-called grandmas? They gently patted me on the shoulder and consoled me ("you just said what we were thinking, dear" -- yeah, right!)

You know what's so great about snowshoeing? There is no sliding involved. The shoes are so grippy that I wasn't afraid to hike up and down a mountain covered in wet snow. It was fun, you guys. Winter is great as long as you have the right gear, and to me that means no slipping and staying dry. Therefore, snowshoeing gets two thumbs up.

What can I say? It's logic.

My sons all skied, including the three year old. But the five year old has been obsessed with snowboarding lately, so we signed him up for the Burton program at the mountain. He was in heaven. The seven year old turned eight while on the mountain, skiing. It was great, except for the fact that it was 6 degrees and windy two of the days, and that called for a lot of gear. A LOT.

Guess who was responsible for getting them all dressed and at their classes on time?

That's right.

But I didn't mind, because once I dropped the boys and husband off at their respective spots on the slopes, I went back to the hotel and treated myself to my book and my coffee and sugar waffles.

Winter vacation? You were good to us.