Birth(day) of a blogger - and a short diatribe about Comic Sans

Today, my first-born child turned 10 years old. Happy birthday to my amazing son, Nico! 

This blogger loves pancakes

The past decade has flown by and I can't believe my shrieking baby has grown into a thoughtful tweenager. Who is this long-limbed, floppy-haired, iPod-toting guy who now wears deodorant? What happened to my hippo-toothed chunk-a-lunk? 

For the past several weeks, Nico felt anxious about his impending birthday. He was dreading his birthday (except for the gifts). He was really sad about leaving the single-digit years. This week, though, he perked up and decided to embrace the double-digit milestone. 

Today, Nico started his own blog with his first post describing his favorite memories from the past 10 years. People, including my husband, assumed I helped him write it. Actually, I didn't, really. I gave him some very minor proofreading notes (e.g. spelling "tumor" instead of "tomber"), but kept my comments spare. Nico has always enjoyed writing and has had great teachers who have nurtured, supported and challenged him. I wanted to encourage him too.

If anything, my biggest suggestion to Nico was changing the font. Originally, he had used Comic Sans, and if you know me at all, you know I couldn't have let that go. So I went into a little thing about Cleveland Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert and his unfortunate use of the font. And I may or may not have spouted a wildly distorted version of C.S. Lewis' quote: "When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up." My version was more like, "When you become 10 years old, you put away childish fonts. Period." 

Anyhow, enough about Comic Sans. I am so proud of Nico for launching his blog and sharing his views with the world!

Deodorant for Tweens: The Decision

It is time. A mother knows. Her nose knows.

So I took my rising fifth-grade son to Target to buy him his first stick of deodorant. I tend to get overwhelmed when faced with too many choices (why does Baskin Robbins need 31 flavors? That's ridiculous - five should suffice). A wall of men's deodorants stood before me. As expected, I started to panic. It was not as bad as the time I tried to find a certain kind of moisturizer, but it was still not good.

My son was looking to me for wisdom and guidance and I was starting to sweat. (Good thing we were in the deodorant aisle.) Frantically, I called my husband at work. No answer. I texted him. 

In the mean time, Nico was sniffing all the different varieties. He wanted to know why all of the choices said "Men" and not "Boys". The marketing was not working for him - he didn't like the packaging colors or the names of the scents. 

Finally, after a few tries, I got hold of my husband. "Remind me what deodorant brand you use?" I asked Vic, who sounded like he had more important things to worry about. He told me. Nico was hesitant. "What about Gillette Clear Gel?" Nico asked. Vic was annoyed. 

Finally, my cheap Asian mom instincts kicked in and I settled the issue. I found a two-pack for both of them; it had that Target red sale sticker I can't resist. The winner? Speed Stick Ocean Surf deodorant.

Can I smell a bargain or what?