All posts tagged: playground offices

SCREW SUNSETS, I WANT MY IPAD

The other day I read a spot-on post by a mother lamenting the fact that her kids don’t look out at the river when they’re driving. Instead, their faces are buried in touch screens. Screw my kids’ appreciation. What about my burning desire to stare at a touch screen? I stand at the playground and challenge myself to see how long I can hold off checking texts. Sometimes I make it two and a half minutes…if Colton isn’t gleefully stealing toys from younger kids. Once I’ve extracted the phone and glanced at the home page alerts, I might as well swipe, punch my code, and see if emails jumped from 13 to 14. Maybe a life-changing message arrived in the ninety seconds since I slipped the phone into my pocket (to unload the stroller). Yes, I was scrolling HuffPost while pushing the stroller to the playground. I might not have looked up as I crossed streets, dodged an old lady using a walker, and avoided dog poop. Busy bodies might think I never looked up …

Chapter 6: Blind Pitching

I emailed our bag drawings to a friend who organizes a dads-and-kids club. He responded immediately and said, “You need to talk to my friend, Amy Meadow. She’s a fashion consultant.” “But, wait,” I texted. “What did u think of design?” “It’s awesome!” Phew. Validation is nice. I’m such an actor. I called Amy. I pitched my idea, talked about my own search for a cool diaper bag, and made self-conscious disclaimers about my own un-stylish jeans-and-t-shirt aesthetic. Over the phone I could hear her typing. “Ohmigod, this is a great idea. I can’t believe it doesn’t already exist. Ok. We can talk more, but my expertise comes in later. First you need to talk to my friend, Julia. She’s an international bag sourcer.” “Thanks so much. This is awesome. Um, also, because I’m so fashion-unconscious, do you think I should start subscribing to Vogue Men, or something, to be more fashionably aware?” “No. Your naiveté is refreshing. Hold onto that. And go call Julia.” Phew. Less tedious work for me. I’d rather remain naive, …