Is Your Phone Smarter Than You?

Like so many people I used to chastise, I too have fallen from grace.  I admit that I have allowed my cell phone to completely possess me.

     This morning, after I hit the button to close my garage door remote button, I pressed another button at the top of my phone.  Dark screen.  No response.
     I gasped.
     I had failed the evening prior, to follow my daily regimen of charging my cell phone, setting its phone alarm and leaving it within reach on my night stand.  As a result, my entire morning was a half hour behind.
     There were no persistent, high pitched beeps from my phone.  Instead my eyes were forced open by natural daylight streaming through my bedroom window and my ears detected my neighbor's dog's bark alarm at 6:30am.  That half hour cost me.  I missed my yoga stretches and instead of a leisurely morning, lunches were haphazardly packed, breakfasts were flashed on the run.  Because both buses were missed, the kids needed rides to school.  Could I still get to my 9:00 a.m. breakfast meeting on time?
     At the stop sign on Rope Ferry Road, you could hear the clinking of my son's spoon to his ceramic bowl of steaming strawberry oatmeal -- an unusual sound paired with the pop music in the front seat of my car.
     No smart phone meant no way to quickly check my contact info for the location of the meeting.  There was no time to go back into the house and rifle through computer files.  I took for granted I could look at the last minute in the morning, so I only had a vague idea where I was going.  I had been there a handful of times before.  I had a strong visual on the street, the mailbox and the walkway to the front door.  I remember making a left at a restaurant on Route 1, passing two stop signs and then parking at the third stop sign.  But I could not recall the actual street name or building number.  I had no way to call if I got lost or was running late due to traffic.
     I looked at the car clock after dropping off my second child.  I could make it if all went smoothly, but there certainly was not enough time to go back home to look for a car phone charger cord.
     "What did I do before the cell phone was invented?" I thought to myself.
     I would have asked several days ahead, not only for the address and phone number of the destination, but also for the directions.  Otherwise, I would have flipped open a street map and highlighted the route.  If I got lost or was running late, I would have been able to stop at a street phone booth to call.
     "What did I do before the smart phone?" I again asked myself.
     I would have done a map search on the home computer and printed the directions to bring along.
     But the smart phone had made my brain lazy.  I relied on it any random second of the day.  I made dog grooming appointments while walking the dog.  I confirmed hair and doctor appointments while waiting on the grocery line or at the gas station.  I never bothered doing any research the day before having to drive two hours to my daughter's gymnastics meets.
     My smart phone knew everything.
     It told me when to wake up, who to call, when to do a task, where to go and answered virtually any question that came up during debates with friends.
     Ironically, despite the fact that I programmed my phone to nag me to prepare to leave 15 minutes early to my appointments, I seemed to always arrive 15 minutes late.  I kept fooling myself.  I no longer had a natural sense of time.  I allowed my phone to become smarter than me.
     Fortunately, this morning I had the good sense to have faith in myself.  I had no choice but to rely on my visualization skills.  I used to call it my photographic memory in high school.  I could see where I had to go in my head.
     I was encouraged by the fact that I got both kids to school on time, so I proceeded to the highway and just drove, trusting that the universe would help me get to my destination within the remaining time.  I made all the turns and stops that my body remembered.  And when I finally walked through the front door, I smiled as I saw the wall clock.
     I was on time.  On the dot, in fact.  I had outsmarted my phone.

The After-School Shuffle

Are you exhausted, juggling your children's after school activities, you need a carpool and are going mad?  There are options.  

     Fear not, for you are not alone.  There are many struggling parents churning the gas pedal and wearing out their brakes due to  frequent stop and go drop-offs.  It is even more taxing when one child has an activity and the other does not, but you have to drive a distance to get there.       Some parents hide their frustration.  They paste an enthusiastic smile on their face and blow their kids kisses from the driver's seat.  Everything is fine.  They don't mind being the family chauffeur.  The other sibling is an angel, quietly awaiting the next stop, which may include being dragged on errands to several stores.  These parents wave their hands in slow motion as they pull away from the curb.  
     "See you later!  Have fun!" they sing out the window.  
     Some parents are more transparent, but at least they are honest about the situation.  They jerk the car into an awkward halt, expressing disgust with each gear shift.  No words are exchanged.  There is no eye contact.  The door slams shut.  The car screeches away in a blur.  
     And then there are many who are just plain old stuck.  With gas prices as high as they are, it does not make sense to drive 20 miles to go home only to come back a couple of hours later.  So they park the car and force the sibling to accompany them in the waiting area for the duration of the older sibling's activity.    
     Some children are equipped with a backpack full of distractions, but they complain the entire time.  
     "Why can't we come back later?" the kid says.  "I want to go home.  This stinks."
     "Do your homework," the parent replies.  "Where's your book?"
     "Hhmmph," the kid blurts, slumping in the chair.
     In some cases, the parent comes equipped with a good book, paperwork or a laptop and gets busy while the child plays games on a phone for two hours.  
     After observing all of these situations and even experiencing all three at some point myself, it dawned on me that there were options I had not yet considered.  

Option 1: The Homework Cafe    
Find a nice cafe in the area where you and the sibling can look forward to a relaxing and fun atmosphere in which to work/study and maybe enjoy some snacks later as a reward.  Come prepared with productive and enjoyable work for you and the sibling.   The child should do homework first, then read or play educational puzzles and games afterwards.  If the crowd or music at the cafe is too loud or distracting, bring along a laptop, iPod, tablet or e-reader and earphones to tune into conducive instrumental music on Pandora Radio using the cafe's free Wi-Fi internet access.  If this is not an option, try finding the local library, get some work done, read a good book (yes, the kind with a spine and actual pages to flip) and then go out for a coffee/smoothie afterward.    

Option 2: Shopping Marathon    
Plan all your grocery and errand shopping around your commuting calendar.  Try to involve the sibling in the shopping strategy.  Maybe he or she will help cook that evening and you can pick up ingredients for the menu together.  Maybe he or she needs extra supplies for a project or needs a new pair of jeans.  This is a good time to do personal shopping with him or her.  Or maybe there are events coming up in the near future and you need to buy greeting cards, gifts or special outfits to wear to the party.  This might be the opportune time to just window shop together.  

Option 3: Find or Start a Carpool    
Chances are, there are other parents at your gym, studio or sports team looking to pair up with other families juggling their kids schedule, but how do you find them?  Just start talking to people.  Find out where they commute from and ask how they manage.  Keep your eyes and ears wide open for the opportunity.  A new parent joined my daughter's gym and desperately needed to find a carpool for her 11-year-old because the 40 mile commute was not going to work three times a week without one.  So she did the most efficient thing; she asked the coach to e-mail all the team parents inquiring whether other parents might be interested.  We quickly became acquainted with another family and have since worked out a three-way carpool that is flexible and offers each of us a one-way drop-off or pick-up option.  When one can't make it, usually there is a back-up.  We stay in touch through phone texts before and during the carpool.  It isn't perfect, but more often than not, the sibling can comfortably do their work and then unwind at home at least half of the time.  

Have any other after school commuting ideas?  Please share them with us.

First Day, Great Beginnings

There is something universally motivating about the first day of school.  New sneakers, new notebooks, a new season and new agendas.  As Waterford students donned their backpacks and boarded school buses this morning, many parents breathed a little easier.  We look forward to renewed structure and boundaries in our family's work, play and sleep schedules.
     "Are you enjoying your summer?" I said to people I encountered in recent weeks.
It was a great way to quickly exchange stories about our respective family's fun in the sun.  We discussed exciting destinations, unique camps, beach and park days.  We talked about how much our children have grown.  We also commiserated about the physical hazards of excessive sitting during road and air travel, overexposure to electronic screens and chronically abused bedtimes.  When the time came, how were the kids going to wake up at the sound of their alarm at the crack of dawn?
     And yet, as my own kids attested this morning, their inner clocks were far superior to the ones sitting on their bedroom desks.  Apparently, they woke up a couple of times before enough daylight even seeped through their curtains.  One eye opened slightly to peek at the clock, only to realize it wasn't time yet.  They anxiously awaited the official time to rise.  They welcomed school, if not for new academic challenges, perhaps for the chance to simply see their friends and classmates regularly again.
     Both my fourth grader and eighth grader agreed it was a good idea to prepare their school bags and lay out their clothes before bed.  This alleviated morning stress and facilitated their movement from bedroom to bathroom to kitchen.  Alarms were set.  My alarm sounded at 6 a.m. and I joined my eighth grader in a warm-up jog around the neighborhood.  It got our blood flowing.  We were energized for the day.  It helped him start training for his cross country season.  Little did he know that it was me who needed the company out there.  I needed to jump start my own new fitness regimen.  The cool, crisp air and golden daybreak greeted our every stride.
     While he enjoyed breakfast, I packed the kids' school lunches.  A few minutes later, thirty minutes ahead of her alarm clock's setting, his sister joined us in the kitchen, dressed for school.  It was the first time she had ever sat at the breakfast table before her brother boarded his earlier middle school bus.  She surprised us and herself too.
     Once he was off to school and she was finished with her meal, the dog realized he was in for a big treat.  He immediately sat by the front door to listen for the rumbling and roar of the bus.  He paced in anticipation as I grabbed some plastic bags and his leash.
     "Ah, the familiar sounds of a good morning," his canine brain must have recalled.   
     My dog must have revelled in the sound of neighborhood kids approaching the edge of their driveways and barked at the screech of the halting big yellow monster.  Once she boarded and the noise of the bus faded down the road, he pulled me into the street and pranced up the hill.  It was his time now.  It had not been as predictable all summer as the family schedule became uber flexible.
     Now he could look forward to his one mile a day walk with me.  And after a summer sabbatical from writing, I can once again count on the flow of story ideas that our morning walks will bring.

My Dad: Screwdriver, Typewriter and Road Map

At this time of year, the word Dad typically conjures up portraits of fathers grilling, doing rugged work in the yard or power tooling in the garage.  But I can define my Dad's character and my bond with him, by more meaningful imagery; a screwdriver, a typewriter and a map.
     When I was a young girl growing up in a borough of New York, I was afraid of many things.  I often had nightmares about subway muggers, home burglars and potential predators lurking the city streets.  Perhaps it was because I watched too many network television news programs.  But it was something I did with Dad before dinner.  We sat on the couch, watched the city headlines and discussed how to practice safety.  I was taking the train to junior high school at twelve years old, so I listened intently.
     "Don't make eye contact with strangers.  Always look as if you know exactly where you are going.  Travel in groups," said Dad.
     At night, I watched him close and lock all the windows and doors of our apartment.  He further secured my bedroom window with a screwdriver.  He placed a door jammer under the front and back doors.  It was not so unusual given the break-in our next door neighbors experienced and the fact that our family car had been stolen right in front of our place.  I have carried Dad's safety warnings with me throughout my college years on and off campus, into my twenties as a single working female commuting back and forth over the East River and throughout my thirties as a Mom with little ones to protect.
     Dad inspired me during my elementary school years to learn how to type, to do it well and to use this skill as a way to make a steady income.  He worked in government positions using data entry skills and ultimately honed a career in accounting.  I remember typing my poems, stories and college entrance essay on an IBM PC Junior computer.  We could barely afford it, but I remember him insisting that it was a good investment in our future.  Typing ensured a non-stop flow of college summer temp jobs and eventually paved a way for me in the fields of advertising, marketing and communications.  To this day I appreciate having the ability to type as fast as my thoughts flow.  I am encouraged by Dad's support of my writing and the occasional comment he bravely posts on my blogs.
     Ironically, it was my Mom, not my Dad, who encouraged me to learn how to drive in my teens.  Of course my father worried about my safety behind the wheel so he wanted no part in my driving education.  But I knew I would not always have access to public transportation so I felt it was my American right to pursue a driver's license.  I surprised him.
     "Guess what, Dad.  I have my driver's license," I said.
     "You what?  That's not possible," he said.
     Although my Mom had a driver's license, he was the designated family driver.  It was his role.  He was not accustomed to seeing women drive (well).
     "Sorry, but it's a done deal," I replied.
     I felt bad that I betrayed his wishes at the time, but knew in my heart it was the right thing for my future.  Although he must have been very upset that I did this at the time, he did not fight it.  Instead, he began to research the best makes of vehicles; their safety record, efficiency and performance ratings.  He believed in Honda as a reliable car brand.  After two years of dragging luggage through bus and subway terminals and perusing carpool ride on-campus boards, I was thrilled that Dad had helped me get a car loan for a new Honda Accord hatchback.  It served me well for the next ten years.
     I remember Dad ordering road maps from AAA for me.  He marked the routes with a bright yellow highlighter.  I had spent many years as the family road trip navigator on long car rides.  He taught me how to read a road map and how to visualize the north, south, east or west bound exit off ramps.
     "As long as you have and can find your location on a map, you will never be lost," Dad said.
     To this day, I prefer reading and marking up road maps rather than relying on an electronic navigator.  As a result, I never feel anxiety when driving someplace new.  If I miss an exit, I pull over, refer to my map and happily turn around.
     Happy Father's Day, Dad.  Thanks for all your guidance to date.  I still hear your safety warnings and advice, every step I take.
     What about you -- what imagery does the word Dad evoke for you?  Share a comment...

School Rallies for Emily

Dedicating a fun event to benefit a very ill child, has the power to make a dramatic difference in a 10-year-old's life. So is the decision for a family in need to accept help.

Gigiotti with Guarraia and Macione.

     On Friday, June 1st, Oswegatchie Elementary School students and staff performed at their annual talent show. There was a variety of very entertaining Disney-themed acts, including a combination of high energy and soulful singers, dancers, musicians, gymnasts, martial artists, hula hoopers, jump ropers and even a twirler. The teachers and staff also delighted students and the audience with their choreographed ensemble routine.
     The original plan was to donate all of the show's proceeds toward the Cactus Jack Foundation. But when members of the Oswegatchie school community learned that fifth grader Emily Feldman is currently fighting a rare health condition known as Moyamoya disease, they acted quickly.  Kim Saucier, one of the teachers involved with directing the talent show immediately proposed to Amie Guarraia, fellow teacher and director of the show, that they approach the school's principal about splitting the proceeds between the two worthy causes.
     According to the Mayfield Clinic for Brain and Spine, Moyamoya disease is a disorder caused by blocked arteries at the base of the brain, a life-threatening condition that requires Emily to undergo surgery that focuses on reducing risk of stroke and restoring blood flow to the brain. The name "moyamoya" means "puff of smoke" in Japanese and describes the appearance of the tangle of tiny vessels that form to compensate for the blockage. In the United States, the risk of developing Moyamoya is less than one in 100,000.
     When Oswegatchie Principal Nancy Macione announced that the event had raised a total of $1,311, Cactus Jack Foundation's representative Tim Gigliotti joined her and Amie Guarraia on stage to accept the check on behalf of the foundation and the Feldman family. He went on to surprise everyone by stating that Cactus Jack Foundation was not only donating their half of the proceeds to the Feldmans, but was matching it as well.
     “Emily is so happy to know that so many people care about her,” said Andrew Feldman, Emily's father.
     He said at first it was very difficult for Emily to let people know about her health condition. She didn't want to be labeled as different from everyone else. But it became very important for her teachers to learn about her health challenges and to work around it as a matter of precaution.
     The Feldmans also worried about the cost of the extensive medical treatments that Emily will be soon undergoing.
     “It's been a tough year,” said Feldman. “I was unemployed for 6 months and recently got a new job so I'm just getting back on my feet.”
     Although his wife is employed as a nurse, she will need to take a leave of absence to care for Emily post-operation and there will be a lot of travel involved between their home in Waterford and Boston Children's Hospital where Emily will be treated.
     “At first our family felt it was best to keep everything private, for Emily's sake,” said Feldman. “But the more we opened up to people that we are in need, the more I realized that we have to learn to accept support in order to triumph over adversity. It has made all the difference in the world for Emily and my family.”
     Feldman credits a physical therapist for pinpointing the true source of all of Emily's health issues. She was there at the recommendation of doctors after she complained of severe foot pain. After observing that one side of her body was significantly weaker than the other, the physical therapist urged that Emily receive some neurological testing. Over the past ten years, Feldman said Emily experienced some very concerning symptoms, from her inability to move one arm as an infant, to collapsing one day at preschool, to having vision, cognitive and hand eye motor skill issues in recent years. He said her primary care physician did not consider her symptoms serious because they were intermittent.
     In hindsight, he wished that more diagnostic tests were done much earlier, but it takes major symptoms and a life-threatening diagnosis for insurance to cover testing expenses.  As a former ballet dancer who is attuned to the body, Feldman said he "immediately knew something was askew" with Emily's health.  It is now considered very likely that all of Emily's symptoms over the years were probably related. Emily 's fainting spells may have been mild transient ischemic attacks (TIA) or mini-strokes due to partially blocked arteries in the brain. Eye glasses and orthotics for flat feet were not the answer to her problems.

     The Feldmans consider the many blessings in Emily's situation. They feel fortunate that she has had few symptoms despite her advanced Moyamoya condition. As they await Emily's surgery date on June 19, their main concern is to keep her hydrated, to keep her blood flow volume strong.
     “Youth is on her side. I am thankful that she is young, flexible and malleable,” said Feldman.
      It was important to Emily that she not miss any school. Their family was thankful that she could continue to have some semblance of normalcy after she was diagnosed. She will have the summer to recover and look forward to resuming normal activity one month after the surgery.
     “I have my faith and I appreciate the support of my family, friends and community,” said Feldman. “I feel like everything is going to be okay.”

If you live in the area, you can help Emily in her challenge to fight Moyamoya disease by going bowling with friends and family at Holiday Bowl (also known as Spare Time) in Groton this Friday, June 8^th from 7:00-9:00pm. Tickets are 12.00 each - call 860 235 4654 or e-mail arwenjinn@aol.com or just pay at the door.

To view Emily's Facebook site about her journey to overcome Moyamoya Disease and find out how you can help if you are not able to attend the event, click here: http://www.facebook.com/emilymoyamoya

For more general info about Moyamoya Disease click here: http://www.mayfieldclinic.com/PE-Moyamoya.htm 

Unclutter...for Everyone's Good!

Temple Emanu-El hosted a community tag sale on May 20th.

A pile of junk in the house has the potential to accomplish a lot of good in a community.  Yet some people balk at the idea of setting up a yard sale.  They cringe at the thought of going through their stuff, hauling items outside and sitting out there for hours, only to possibly be insulted by nickel and dime offers.  The truth is that by tapping into a community tag sale, everyone seems to benefit; the takers, the givers and beyond.
     This past weekend Temple Emanu-El, of Waterford, held a successful community tag sale.  They were encouraged by their first tag sale last Fall.  A few weeks ago, they invited congregants and the general public to lease a spot as a tag sale vendor or donate items that were still in good working condition toward the tag sale.  Their vendor fee served as a donation to the Temple, a 501(c)3 non-profit organization which actively supports other important institutions in our area, including the Habitat for Humanity, the New London Soup Kitchen and the Interfaith Food Locker.  Congregants who were willing to donate all their proceeds to the Temple did not need to pay the vendor fee. 
     The beauty of the community tag sale was that there were many hands involved.  Each tag saler was responsible for setting up his or her own table in a designated section of the Temple's parking lot.  The tag saler cars showed up.  Items were quickly disembarked.  Cars were parked.  The Temple had reserved a limited number of tables.  Some tag sale item donors who could not commit to sitting at a tag sale table were given the opportunity to drop off their donations ahead of time.  Pick-ups were arranged for the elderly.  On the morning of the event, enough volunteers willingly sorted through the donation items and quickly arranged them into some order on the designated Temple tag sale tables.
     It was a lovely sun-kissed day of negotiations in the Temple's parking lot.  There was a steady stream of tag sale shoppers that arrived to check out advertised items from a 10-foot rowboat to home goods, sports equipment, children's items, books and more.  There were also wonderful refreshments available for purchase at the bake sale table.  Children had a thrilling shopping experience.  Their one dollar went a long way.
     The best part of the community tag sale was clean-up because there was no drudgery involved whatsoever.  Diane Johnson, who introduced herself as a representative of Waterford High School's Drama Club, asked a key question while perusing the tables.
     "What are you going to do with all the unsold items at the end of the tag sale?" she said.
     "Goodwill.  Why, are you looking for some items for a tag sale too?" one of the Temple's tag sale volunteers replied. 
     It was a matter of fact.  The Waterford Drama Club was in the midst of collecting items for their upcoming tag sale on June 2nd.  Last Fall, Temple Emanu-El also had the fortune of meeting a member of the Waterford Historical Society, who was in preparation for their tag sale the following week too.  It was destiny once again.
     "By the way," I said later, as a group of us helped load up her pick-up truck with the remaining tag sale items.  "Would you mind circulating some flyers for us at your tag sale?  Temple Emanu-El is hosting its annual Silent & Live Auction on June 2nd, the same day as your tag sale.  It's at 6:30pm that evening."
     "Sure," she said.  "I would be happy to hang some of the flyers up and hand some out."
     So partner up with members of your organization or even neighbors on your street.  Frequent tag saler shoppers like multi-family tag sales because it shortens the list of stops they have to make around town.  Donors and sellers will be blessed with open space in their homes.  Takers can enjoy their new affordable treasures.  Fundraisers like this help ensure that Temple Emanu-El will continue to exist and actively support social action causes in the area.
     Cost and labor efficient fundraisers like community tag sales benefit everyone.  You can start today.  If you live in the area, go through your stuff and contact Diane Johnson at the Waterford Drama Club about your tag sale donations or shop their tag sale on June 2nd.  Afterwards, (shameless plug alert), check out Temple Emanu-El's Silent and Live Auction at 6:30pm that evening! 

For out-of-town readers of this blog, I invite you to Shop for Some Good.  Help support Temple Emanu-El's online auction, which closes this Friday May 25th.  There's still time to bid on fantastic items... www.templeauction.com

Make Mom Happy

What is the best way to celebrate a truly Happy Mother's Day? The trick is knowing Mom well enough to see what is the most meaningful way to say thank you to HER.

A butterfly visiting my petunias one Mother's Day.

      I'm a Mom who has a Mom and Mom-in-law. Whenever Mother's Day approaches, I experience stress, not relaxation. Why? Because every year I worry about whether both Moms will be disappointed once again, because they will not receive the visit they wish they were having from my family. No matter what my family has planned for me on Mother's Day, I find myself feeling guilty that I didn't plan something that included our Moms.

     "They're grandmothers. You're the mother now," my husband says sympathetically.

     "But they don't stop being mothers to us," I hear myself say.

     Both Moms appreciate being recognized on or around Mother's Day, which has been impossible for us to do in person for many years now, since we moved 2.5 hours away. It was easier before we had children, when we lived less than a half hour away from both of them. We popped in for brunch with one and did an early dinner with the other one later in the day. Both Moms were happy to get a visit from daughter/son-in-law and daughter-in-law/son. But ever since I became a Mom, I realized that I want to be available for my kids to celebrate within our own little family unit. I secretly hope I can be completely useless to them during the entire day, free of chores and anxiety of any kind.

An azalea flower in my garden.

      One year, I just wanted the entire day to plant petunias, impatiens and marigolds in containers on my deck. I remember enjoying a visit from a slinky red fox who wandered into my backyard that afternoon. Another year, we enjoyed a walk and picnic as a family at the Connecticut College Arboretum. We picked up sandwiches and drinks from Subway and brought along our cameras. I still admire the photographs we took of the various trees, flowering bushes and water lilies on the pond that day. My favorite photos are the off-center pictures the children took of me with the blue sky in the background, shot from their vantage point below. Another time we decided to see the new flick Iron Man followed by a sushi dinner, my favorite. It didn't matter what we did. All I cared about was that I was with my family and that I didn't have to cook, clean, drive or nag anyone to do anything.

      So where does that leave Moms of adult children? Someday that will be me, when my children have become responsible for themselves and their husbands and their own children. Hey, wait a minute. That's the key. They will be responsible for themselves, their husbands and their own children! That means as a grandparent someday I will not have the same need to receive a physical break from incessant family rearing, shuttling and household chores. I would still want the acknowledgement though. I would want to know that they care about me and recognize all of my efforts through the years, to help them become the best that they could be. I would want to know that they still needed me in their life in some way, whether it be for advice or just someone willing to listen.

My lilac bush in full bloom.

      So make your Mom happy on Mother's Day. Show her that you thought of her and appreciate having her in your life even if you live far away. You don't need to pack the kids' suitcases and drive 200 miles just to have brunch with her for the day. Maybe it is a beautiful arrangement of flowers because she never buys fresh flowers. Maybe it's a video chat so she can see how big the children have grown. Maybe it's a comfortable new fleece throw emblazoned with her favorite family photo. Maybe it's a membership to fruit of the month club because she's trying to cut back on chocolate and sweets. Maybe it's a book of Cross Sound ferry tickets so she'll be encouraged to visit you and her grandchildren often. Maybe it's a home-made card signed by every member of the family, even the dog.

      If you live close enough to set aside a part of the day for a personal visit, you will surely surpass all of her expectations. Take her to brunch, lunch or dinner. Take her to the movies, to a show or to a ballgame. Take her to the salon, to the park or to the museum. Have her over for a slice of pie and a cup of tea and pick her brain about her past. She would love to tell you stories. If you are inclined to include her in your family's plans, by all means invite her to tag along!

      In my town, the local Patch.com site is accepting favorite photo submissions of "Mom and Me." The simplest and most legendary gesture we can make to our Moms is to tell the world why we think she is the best Mom!  To all my readers who are Moms...may you have a truly Happy Mother's Day!