realtalknic

I spoke to a group of women at a fun heath conference/expo Saturday and asked them a very simple question…. Who are you? Right now, in this moment….Who are you? There were many answers that you may expect. I’m a mom. I am a wife. A sister. A mentor. A daughter. Ok, ok. Great.  Then…… One sister bravely raised her hand and her answer silenced the room. It was as if many people were thinking it, but none wanted to say it out loud. I wasn’t surprised at all. I let the silence linger. Finally, after that heavy, heavy pause, I repeated her answer:  “I am 41 years old and I really don’t know who I am.”  Wow. Heads started nodding. Shout outs and clapping for the not knowing. So many of us there hadn't even considered the question.  For as long as I can remember the women in my life defined themselves by how they were seen by other people. And sadly, when those roles ended they were strangers to themselves. Kids move? Adrift. Divorced? Hurt and stuck. Job eliminated? Co

A few years ago while running a corporate training event we had our participants do quick chats using conversation starter cards as cues. The results were great and it’s a staple for work meetings. As is often the case I practice on my kids prior to work to gage the flow and effectiveness of the activity.My kids and husband were not amused. Ha! "Corny!", they said!  Too bad. This is mom’s job on the line. Play along. So they did. And something magical happened. Amidst the nay saying, some fantastic and insightful conversations occurred. We made it a habit and it has been a winning tool in my parenting war chest. At the same time I began my completely unscientific and nosey study on conversations. A call it my Target Shopping Cart study. Because most of my eavesdropping occurred while pushing a cart buying things I didn’t know I needed at target.  It works like this…..listen to how people talk to their kids in Target. (walmart, Kroger, Costco….store doesn’t matter)

You know it's summer in our house when that 1st Saturday comes and the macaroni salad is in the fridge waiting for the boys to come and get it. It's a summer Saturday staple. From Memorial Day to Labor day....you can count on it. As I stood at the island making it this week I found myself thinking back to an incident where my traditional tuna macaroni summer salad told us everything you need to know about how to talk about race. With love and laughter. We were heading out on our family vacation, a 12 hour road trip from NJ to Disney. Cell phones weren't a big deal then but we were fancy with walkie talkies in each car. After about 3 hours we decided to hit the rest stop and have some lunch. My best friend, who is white, had packed a beautiful basket of cold cuts and breads. My kids ran to her basket and made sandwiches. I had a cooler filled with my tuna and macaroni and while we eat healthy most of the time....I had fried up some chicken for the road. Of cours

The Shame Game: An Internet Sensation Starring the one you say you love the best: Your wanna- be thug son….or perhaps your puberty passionate daughter. The plot is the same whoever plays the game: Child acts up and you show off on video and prove to the world you aren’t having no mess….not in your house. No way. You will give an old man’s hair cut…beat some ass with a cord, berate and announce new found sexuality….all for the internet fans!   The cast: You, the parent, must prove you are the star. Those likes and retweets give you life! The comments are like ratings and the more “go heads, I know that’s right” you get….the better you feel.   The co-stars …..you know the ones that did the deed….broke a rule…went off course, otherwise known as your child. They must show full remorse, head bowed, crying….oh now we are talking. Crying is proof of full embarrassment.   That rage and despondence and brokenness displayed….will the world ever know if that is remorse for a rule

I'm so excited to introduce Pretty Patty to you all! She is my 1st project of 2015 and I am in LOVE!   I'm gonna tell ya how I did it....but 1st....real quick..... let me tell you why!   More and more I found myself putting things off because they were too expensive....too much trouble....tooo all sorts of things. And when you go without small pleasures you can become a bit snarky. Snarky is not in my personality wardrobe. (I don't think)   Still....I want what I want. Solid wood, not particle board. Dovetail drawer, none of those plastic side pieces. Had to have nice lines.....and FEET! (I really think FEET make the piece....doesn't date it and makes it look....sorta, hmmmm.....SEXY! ) And well....I found all of that and of course....$1000 plus. So my one other requirement? Had to be under $100 complete! I know.....STOP. PLAYING!   So Pretty Patty like many of my other pieces came to me in another iteration. And that's why I love her. I can get c

Did you ever find yourself using a word that if someone else used it you would be offended?   Oh…..not that word! My family long ago admonished the use of the N word in any type of fashion. Just not happening. So, why then was it so easy for me to drop the word "Ghetto". You know like, that’s so GHETTO, or…”girl, you know he’s ghetto.” It’s all good and funny when it was popping out of my mouth. I could use that word because…..you know, it doesn’t describe me. Until it did. And it will go down as one of the worse pains in my professional career. Me. You know. Good me. Accepted everywhere. All audiences. The “you are all right” girl in every conversation. Professional and straight laced in and out of the office. I don’t play, and have no time for foolishness. Being trifling was and is an assault to our family and my mother was not having it! So I damn sure ain’t ghetto. Until I was. Yep. After working for months on a project that was my own from before it