Mamazina Blog

iPad

“iPad…is the iPhone on steroids”    Apple is releasing the first batch of WiFi only iPads around April of this year. And then a couple of weeks later, there will be another model released with the ability to work on the prepaid $30.00 per month (unlimited access) AT&T cell network.

   This one pound seven ounce technology starts out around $ 499.  For your money, you will get 16 gigabytes of storage and 1 GHz of power. A Gigahertz is the transmission frequency of radio signals in cycles per second. Another way to look at it, 1 GHz equals 1billion cycles per second.  

     With over a thousand sensors in the multi-touch 9.7-inch glass screen, it is also backlit for a crisp look. Just like the iPhone, you can hold the device any-which-way you want, and the screen flips around for your viewing pleasure.

     Apple spouts the battery life lasts a month on standby.  In spite of that, I think their most impressive claim is that during continuous use (surf the net, e-mail or watch a movie) the battery will last 10 hours.  Now that is some staying power!

     With iPad, you will have access to stores to obtain apps.  An app (application) is a software program to use on your mobile device, similar to going out to buy tax software and installing it on your home computer. However, with the iPad you just go online to the App Store and quickly snag it, you don’t have to brush your teeth nor gas up the car. Pretty nifty huh?

     Now, at the App Store you can purchase anything from personal planners, games, or joke programs. You can also buy music through the iTunes Store, or get a book at the Book Store. There is 140,000 different apps you will have access to, some are free while others you will have to pay for. Please note: You cannot multi task on iPad because only one app can be open at a time.

     Mind you, the iPad is not a cell phone and as a matter of fact, it does not have a USB port nor does it support the Flash program. In fact, it does not even have a slot to place your camera’s SD card, a CD or DVD slot.  

     Nonetheless, Apple has adapters for that! You may purchase iPad connector kits for your USB and SD card or you can e-mail photos to your iPad but it will result in smaller files that will distress the picture quality. The iPad has headphone jack to use while watching movies or listening to music. Although the iPad keyboard is about the same size as a laptop keyboard, Apple will be releasing a 30-pin connection docking station that will allow you to use a traditional full size keyboard or watch movies comfortably.  

     You are now armed with all the data I could pick from the brain of my inside-source (shhhh…that needs to be our little secret). Now you can make an intelligent purchase, or not.

 

Pamela Vanden Bos

Visit my website  http://pvbos.com
View my fashion tips: http://avenue22.tumblr.com/

 

Fun at the Protest

We’re all a little exhausted today because yesterday we took a long walk. A very, very long walk.

My husband and I walked with our kids from my daughter’s public school all the way to the San Francisco Civic Center to participate in my little ones’ first political rally. This is a rite-of-passage that all San Francisco children must undergo or else they will be cast out of the city at age 14, much like the young sons at the polygamous cult Juniper Creek.

This protest was unique, however, in that it transposed political party affiliation, socio-economic class, race, sexual affiliation, and particular stance on your standard protest hotspots (War in Iraq, global trade, gay marriage, Free Mumia, etc.)

The one thing the thousands of us who gathered had in common: Education.

In an incredible display of solidarity, students, teachers, and parents from K-12 public schools, community colleges, and 4-year public universities came together en masse to declare that it is time to find real solutions to California's crisis in public education funding. We are the 8^th largest economy in the world and 48^th in per pupil spending. Enough said.

And is it weird to admit that I had fun at the protest? The kids were cute. We danced to the high school drummers. We watched the college student street theater puppet show. We chanted. We carried signs, hand-scribbled by the kids. We laughed. We saw tons of friends from all over the city. And then (wait, this is the best part for those of us under age 3) we got to ride the train home!

--Robin Dutton-Cookston is senior editor at MaMaZina and lots of other good stuff too. Check out her book at The Foggiest Idea

 

EXHALE

 

Inserting Yoga Zone into the DVD player, I cup my hand around the steaming hot virgin latte feeling the warmth radiate up my aching arms. Sipping on the caffeine free drink throughout the disclaimer, and introductions, I mentally get ready for Al & Lisa’s quiet calm voices to guide me through each yoga pose.

 

My ritual is always the same. Turn on a fan for white noise, slip the black-silk mask over my head, and place one pink plug snugly into my right ear.

 

All is hushed as seven little dogs perched in their favorite position, watch me prepare. The routine comforts all of us.

 

Undertones of soft music float in the air as Al has me breathe deeply and stretch. Ahh…it feels so good. Now slowly exhale. He talks about downward facing dog, reaching up to the sky to feel the heat. Or how to tilt your pelvis for proper alignment. Most important is the breathing-in, and then releasing the breath.

 

On the other hand, Lisa has you listening to the-breath as you do each pose. She softly says that it’s more important to exhale all the way and then let the inhale take care of itself. Calm radiates throughout my body as I relax each limb, allowing the pain to escape.

 

I exhale and wonder where the bird tweets and highflying planes soaring in the air come from.

 

 Exhale. Hear the breath. Exhale slowly and completely. Exhale…Exhale….

 

Oh, wait! Did I mention that I don't actually DO the yoga... I use this 20-minute session to put me to sleep.

 

Pamela Vanden Bos

Visit my website http://pvbos.com
View my fashion tips: http://avenue22.tumblr.com/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Equity Begins at Home

So there I was, dwelling in the pit of yet another highly irrational and illogical bout of extreme parenting guilt.

This time it was about the fact that I want to give my younger daughter everything that I gave/give my oldest daughter. I have an obsessive need to be tit for tat so that everything is fair and that my more easygoing little one doesn’t get the shaft.

If Big Girl went to playgroups and Acrosports then Little Girl gets to go to playgroups and Acrosports. If Big Girl regularly got dragged around town to museums and cultural events then by golly I’m going to expose Little Girl to her fair share of art.

And now my latest dilemma is preschool. In this economy, my professor spouse is facing furloughs and budget-cuts, and my grant-funded job is precarious. We are now considering enrolling our toddler in a more-affordable, funky (but still lovely) co-op next fall instead of the mid-price-range, clean little preschool on the college campus where my husband teaches.

Does this mean she will have a “less than” preschool experience? Of course not. Does this mean I’m not giving her the same opportunities? Of course not.

But there is still a highly annoying part of me that fears I am somehow slighting my wee one if I send her to a funky parent run co-operative instead of the shiny, tidy university preschool. I don’t want her to later on blame me for her subsequent adult failure to find true happiness and achievement in life by yelling, “Mom! This is your fault for sending me to the Dredlock Vegan Childcare Collective!”

Totally ridiculous, right? She’ll be fine, right? I kept telling myself that different can still be equal. That my kids don’t have to have the exact same experiences to become happy, well-rounded adults who don’t hate each other or hate me.

But then we had a crisis and something redemptive happened.

She totally collared another kid while at her current childcare. Yes, it was technically out of love, but my sweet little girl grabbed another sweet little girl by the hoodie and yanked her off her feet. When the teacher tried to talk to her about it, my little sweetie said, “It’s because I’m bad.”

Oh Lord, be still my heart. Could that sound any worse than it does right now as I write it? Worse than it looks here on my computer screen?

But this horrific self-labeling episode lit a fire under my arse and I spent the next three days doing what the teacher recommended that many second kids need. I let Rosemary call the shots. Not like refusing to brush her teeth or ride without a carseat. But I let her choose what to play at home and I actually got on the floor and played with her. When we were out and about at the playground or museum, I just followed her around so that she could be the boss.

And I showered her with specific, detailed praise to remind her that this is certainly not a “bad” girl.

We had three terrific days. And I felt like a sort of terrific mom. I know I will certainly fall down again. I will definitely do things wrong again. But those three terrific days reminded me that it doesn’t matter what shiny preschool my kid attends or whether or not she gets equal time at Acrosports or Music Together class. What matters is that she gets equal time and respect at home as a unique and wonderful individual. Equity begins at home.

 

--Robin Dutton-Cookston is senior editor at MaMaZina and lots of other good stuff too. Learn about her book at The Foggiest Idea.

Toads, Turtles, & Tales

     My trip to the Hawaiian Islands was cut short because my traveling companion turned out to be an ill-mannered toad, instead of Prince Charming; nevertheless, I did come away with some delightful observations.

      First off, I discovered that dark boulders floating in the blue Pacific waters off Maui are really sea turtles swimming towards the black lava strewn shore. If you watch long enough you will notice every few minutes their little heads pop-up gasping for a deep breath, or are they looking around to make sure that they’re swimming in the right direction?

 

     The second day as I buried my feet deep in the brown-sugar sands looking at the horizon, I spotted a dazzling white ship in the distance. Then in a flash, it was gone. Is this a trick of the sun? No. Much to my enchantment, it was a pod of free spirited humpback whales flipping their tails high in the air, and then slapping them down with all their might sending plumes of icy-salt-spray towards the sky. I would sit patiently waiting for them to flaunt with grace their ability to do another awe-inspiring high-flying belly flop or a front pike half-twist dive.

 

     On the third day, I stand high on a cliff in Lahaina above the ocean. This is where the local big boys surf…very cool!  I hear the rhythmic accents and Jamaican music floating in the air. The surfers look more like nimble skateboarders. I watch a zig-zag-tuck and the rider is airborne…then suddenly freefalling out of sight. The audience releases a breath in unison when the surfer swims to the surface.  Oh my gawd, I notice another agile surfer catching a wave and he’s headed under the frothy white curl of a 15-footer. I gasp and stare along with the other spectators.

 

      I confess I tend to be a worrywart. Let’s put it this way, when my kids were young I was that mom who watched all of the kids on the playground. I was ever ready to bolt into action if anyone got hurt or when another child was about to hurt my baby, I would get in their face. Needless to say, years later, I’ve not changed much.

 

     Therefore, taking advantage of my excellent observation spot on the cliff, I watch each surfer as if I birthed them myself. I count each head as they come up; grab their board attached to their ankle, and start paddling out to catch yet another perfect wave.

 

     However, after one monstrous crushing wave swallowed several riders, I saw this surfer go under and never come back up.  The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. My stomach does a flip-flop.  Franticly I scan the beach below. Where are the lifeguards?  Am I the only one that sees this drowning?  The surfboard is missing. I think he lost it or is the board caught under rocks and he is held under the water by that stupid-strap around his ankle? I know I’m right when I see another quick glimpse of his dark head. I don’t know what to do. Please Lord, I do not want to see a dead body.

 

     Alarmed I shriek to the stranger standing next to me. “See that spot?” My arms are flailing; my hands are flying as I point toward the bubbling foam, close to shore. “I keep seeing a head float up to the surface. And now that guy is going to be slammed into the rocks!”

 

     “Ya he’ll be okay,” the Maui native says. Then taking a double look at my pale face and the wild look in my eyes, he slowly flashes his pearly whites. “It’s a turtle.”

 

 

Pamela Vanden Bos

Visit my website  http://pvbos.com

View my fashion tips: http://avenue22.tumblr.com/

Keep it Simple, Cupid

Like many of you out there, times are tight for my family. With my husband’s professor job still on furlough and an impending salary-gutting at my grant-funded job, we’ve decided to do Valentine’s Day on the cheap this year.

I mean super cheap. I mean pretty much free.

Not that we usually go all out or anything. We’re not the type of couple who has ever purchased giant pink and red teddy bears or messages on billboards or edible underwear. And since we’ve had kids our main underwear focus is of the “please put on clean pair after your bath” variety.

We’ve always been a little weary of this clichéd shopping holiday, but we also think it’s fun to have an excuse to do some celebrating with the kids. And being cheap on V-Day means not paying out the bootie to hire our (admittedly fabulous) babysitter. Which means it’s family time, like it or not.

So we’re thinking about ways to celebrate the fact that our big ol’ hearts are full of family love while not giving into the culture of buying stuff you cannot afford.

After all, it’s the little things, right?

Like helping my school-age child to create free printable, customizable Valentine cards for her class party.  We’ll print ‘em out, embellish with glitter and stickers, and provide a few hours of creative entertainment in the process.

We’re also planning to make some homemade goodies from my new favorite cooking blog to share with friends. Another mom just recently turned me onto this one and I’m dying for an excuse to whip up a batch of homemade graham crackers or chocolate wafers.

I’m also planning on making some surprise treats for my own kids. Maybe do something sneaky like decorate the house the night before and surprise them at breakfast. Since the heart-tacular celebration falls on a Sunday this year we can linger over romantically-shaped cinnamon French toast before heading out for a low-cost family-friendly adventure in the city.

I’m thinking a hike at Lands End (not the clothing company—it’s a park) if the weather is nice or else go tear around one of the museums where we are members.

Whatever we end up doing, we plan on asking Cupid to keep it simple.

 

--Robin Dutton-Cookston is senior editor at MaMaZina and lots of other good stuff too. Learn about her book at The Foggiest Idea.