Not Just Another Number

I realize that there is war and disease and other devastation going on around the world, but I must admit I was sad about something entirely off-beat today. I had to replace my very first license plate, 345 ASA. That was my traveling companion for more than 25 years.

We all are associated with numbers. Our first home phone number, home address, Social Security number, college ID number, first apartment number, first boyfriend’s (or girlfriend’s) phone number, first house with spouse number. The list is endless. As we transition to different parts of our lives, we leave behind one number and take on another. But for some reason, giving up my 345 ASA was harder, as if I were giving up a friend - someone who has been there for me through many of my growing up stages.

Why did I need to turn in my good ‘ole companion? Apparently, its façade became too cracked and the dulled sheen wasn’t able to reflect well in the dark. There’s no escape. I could go a lot of ways with this. When Brad gets older, much older, and he begins to crack and wrinkle, will I replace him with a newer model? Hmm…

In 1986, when I graduated from Dartmouth, this plate held on for dear life to the back of my first car, a Ford Escort. This was a used car which needed oil every other day. In fact, it ran so badly that I had to take the license plate off... the car couldn’t pull that kind of load (ba dum bum). When I went to for grad school in 1990, it then graduated to an early model of a charcoal gray, boxy Toyota Corolla. It later knew the streets of Waltham and Framingham, when I was living in an apartment in Framingham and dating Brad, who lived in Waltham. In 1996-ish, when we were first married and started at the then , it was pleased to be toted on a newer taupe Corolla model. For the past five years, it has logged in more than 118,000 miles on my Toyota Sienna. My children could identify my car among others in a parking lot. 345 ASA has seen all of New England several times over and is intimately familiar with Ashland.

When I was at the Milford RMV, I asked the nice lady behind the counter if I could keep 345 ASA, she looked at me with a surprised and somewhat puzzled look and said, “Oh no!” I actually had to hand my metal pal over to a stranger in order to be (gasp!) recycled. I hope the next owners appreciate it.

So long 345 ASA. Welcome 919 LV5. Enjoy the ride.

My New Tennis Buddy

One of my favorite things to do is to spend time with my family. One of my other favorite things to do is play tennis. When I can put those two favorite things together, I’m in heaven.

Over the summer, my daughter decided she wanted to play tennis. I didn’t push her, but she came to that decision on her own. When she was younger, she had participated in a clinic or two, but it really didn’t seem to stick. She dabbled at camp, but there was no real love there. One of her best friends plays, so that certainly helped move the needle a little bit. I was happy to take them both out to our local school courts and hit the ball. Little by little, Abby could keep the ball in play and have a rally. That motivated her to play more. We’ve moved on to serves and volleys, which really legitimizes her game.

All of the logistical details will fall into place soon enough. But the other side of this is being able to share something I love with my teenage daughter, and have her love it back. Over the years, she has played softball, which I also enjoy. But she put that aside. She enjoys dancing, but even that hasn’t been high on her list. So I was facing two things: getting her involved in something worthwhile, and finding a physical activity to keep her in shape. Checking off both of these items, plus including myself in the mix—priceless.

She not only looks forward to playing, but she looks forward to playing with me. As she moves more deeply into the teenage years (she’ll be 14 in three months), I want to savor these times together – just the two of us. We try to play at least once during the week, usually a Tuesday, and once on the weekend. Before she leaves for school, she might ask, “Can we play tennis today?” Music to my ears. I smile and say, “I’ll call for a court!” Then, after school and work, we both look forward to putting on our tennis clothes and sneakers, grabbing our racquets and hitting the fuzzy yellow ball over the unwavering net as many times as we can.

Today, we played a fun baseline game with another parent and his daughter, and she played very well. This was a huge step for both of us. She can hold her own on the court and has the confidence to face opponents she doesn’t know.

My daughter and I do many things together. She loves going to the mall, an activity which wasn’t always high on my list, but which I can stomach better with her by my side. She enjoys playing board games like Yahtzee! And now I feel fortunate that we share the same passion of tennis. She recently announced to me that she wants to play on the high school tennis team. I smiled and said, “Well, we have some work to do, but I am happy to help you get there.”

I am Davida. And I like Words with Friends

Am I addicted? That’s debatable. I don’t shirk my responsibilities as a wife, mother, daughter, employee, volunteer, tennis partner or any other primary areas of my life. I don’t stay up to play until all hours of the night. I don’t do it at the dinner table. I also don’t play other apps, such as Angry Birds or or Solitaire.
I do like to play when I get a rare free moment during the day, or in the evening when I’m winding down from a hectic day. Does this sound defensive? Maybe a little.

I feel slightly guilty that I am not using my 20 or so minute of free time at night reading a book. I really should read more. But I have always loved Scrabble, and more recently Bananagrams, but we don’t play it very much at home. I have always loved the challenge of putting words together, particularly along a DW (double word) or most especially along TW (triple word) square. And if one of the letters is worth 5 to 10 points, woo hoo!

Right now, I am involved with nine simultaneous games going with a cousin from Florida, who beats me every time, and several friends from Massachusetts, Georgia and Texas. I can even send people little messages – like instant Chat with Friends.
Really, there could be worse things, like drinking, smoking or gambling. I don’t pig out on donuts or drink huge quantities of diet soda. Lately, my kids have wanted some of the Words action. Hey, it’s educational right? They said, we should play Scrabble more. That would be fine with me.

p.s. This week, my iPhone seemed to play possum. I learned how to reboot it, and it was fine. The first thing I thought of was, “Oh no! My games!” Not… “Oh no, my email! “Since they are in a cloud with my account, I really wouldn’t have lost them, but I guess it says something about this new little hobby of mine.

I wanna hold your hand

I do not mind showing affection to my husband in public. I’m not over-the-top with it, but I have no problem giving him a kiss or a hug, holding hands, or putting my arm around him if we’re walking somewhere. Heck, he’s my husband, I love him, and I’ll kiss him if I want to.

I also get the biggest warm-and-fuzzy feeling seeing other people, particularly those of the senior generation, show affection. I was driving in Framingham the other day. The temperature outside was about 75 degrees, so there were many people out walking. I saw two women on their power walk, a couple of teenagers strolling with a purpose, probably meeting another buddy or two, and then a few singles here and there. A normal summer day.

Then I saw a couple, probably in their mid- to late-60s (young by today’s standards, I know), walking at a decent clip and holding hands. They looked like they were involved in a good conversation. I couldn’t help but smile. My mind wandered to how they got to this point. Perhaps they’ve been married for 30 years or more, raised a couple of children and are maybe even enjoying grandchildren. They looked like they were enjoying each other’s company. They are in the empty nest phase of their lives.
Brad and I are in this temporary empty nest time while the kids are at camp.

Although we don’t spend every waking moment together, it’s nice to focus just on us. Typically, our lives and schedules are focused around the children and their activities. But even for a brief time, we can recharge and enjoy each other’s company without guilt. Our children are safe and having a wonderful time as they learn and grow in a community without their parents.

Three words came to mind when I saw the couple holding hands. I hadn’t ever described Brad and my relationship in this way, but I feel we can:

Communicate. Connect. Life partners.

I will wanna hold his hand for a very long time.

Lucky Charms

My son was convinced that when my mother and father, his Nanny and Poppie, attended his baseball games, the team won. It was as simple as that. They were the team’s lucky charm, according to a 10-year-old boy. To be honest, it seemed to be true. Some might think it is crazy to associate the presence of two grandparents to winning baseball, but if you ask my 10-year-old son, their beloved grandson, it was a tried and true fact.

It all began during the spring AAA baseball season, and continued to the summer Sizzler league. During the spring season, the team went something like 5-5. My parents attended at least some of the 5 winning spring league games. Over the summer, they were able to attend the final game of the regular season, when the team pulled out an exciting 3 – 2 win with a walk-off run. So, of course, Ari begged them to attend the first game of the playoffs. Sure enough, the team won another nail biter, 10-9, with a walk off hit by the same player.

Then, things got a little tricky. The weather for the 2nd game of the playoffs was extremely hot, perhaps too hot for my parents. I might add that we were to play the strongest team in the league.. the one which demolished us 23-0 in our first game of the season.

Ari asked my parents many times if they would come, and my mother was torn. She wanted to attend more than anything, but wasn't sure she could bear the heat and humidity. She found a solution and told Ari, “Come to my house and I will give you something of mine. In case I cannot be there, you will at least have something from me.” She gave Ari a silver dollar with a lovely note taped to it, which he promptly taped to the inside of his baseball bag.

My mother started to question me, “Does Ari really think that we make the team win?” I said that it must give him some level of confidence when he sees them there. I couldn’t speak for the rest of the players, but in Ari’s mind, he could conquer the world with Nanny and Poppie looking on.

When do you tell a child that there is no Tooth Fairy, for example? Do you let him play it out and grow into it or do you rip off the band-aid, so to speak, and give it to him straight?

In this case, I saw no harm in letting it go. I didn’t discuss it with him either. I didn’t try to determine if there was any logic involved or simply wishful thinking. My son is a smart boy who can calculate math in his head, but he’s still only 10.

Well, as it turned out, my parents did make that 2nd game of the playoffs. And the team lost, although not as badly as they did in the first game. That was that.

On the way home from the game, I decided to talk with Ari about his belief. Did he really think Nanny and Poppie were his lucky charms? Did they make the team win? He looked at me with his sweet face and replied, “Not really, but it certainly made them feel good.”

I just smiled and realized just how smart my son really is.

Must Love Blogs

My company recently held a fun event called The Schwartzies. It was a cross between the Oscars and the high school senior year superlatives. The Fun Committee sent out a survey asking people to vote for the “most likely to…” on categories such as “Best Bahstahn Accent,” “Best Phone Voice,” “Most Likely to Tweet,” and “Most Likely to Blog.” Well, guess what? I won “Most Likely to Blog.” I was certainly honored and slightly surprised. Then I realized I have had Set Point since March 30, 2008, nearly three years! I also do a fair amount of blog writing for company's blog.

My first Set Point post was titled, “The Grammar Sheriffs are Coming," at the end of which I wrote, “My point…Although I might not go to this length to reform the world of its grammatical flaws, I have been known to offer solicited and unsolicited corrections to just about anything that crosses my desk, home and work.” This continues to be true.

And over the past three years, I have written on a variety of topics for Schwartz, such as healthcare IT, social media, client accomplishments, trade shows and marketing.

The posts which I find easiest to write are those on which subjects I am most familiar, such as tennis, parenting, a place I have visited, psychology. On the other hand, I step out of my comfort zone and write about topics which I need to learn more about (uh oh, I ended a sentence with a preposition).

I might be driving and run a few ideas in my head for my personal blog.. did one of the kids do or say anything particularly interesting which taught a lesson and is worth sharing? Have I experienced a situation which is worth analyzing? At work, I talk with people to map out ideas and then take some on myself and assign others.
It’s not difficult to find a topic, but it is challenging to make it interesting and fun for the masses. I do my best, and hope even a couple of people take a peek and even learn a little something along the way.

My Point: Like everyone out there, my schedule can get busy. We are all bombarded with information. Blogging is a great way to get lost in your thoughts, figure out a problem and practice self-expression. It can be cathartic for the writer and beneficial for the reader. I can’t wait until I figure out what my next topic will be.

Three-Two-One... Contacts

“Mom, I really want to get contacts,” Abby said. We had had this conversation about eight months prior. She was on the fence then, and had heard about the challenges of how contacts fit on eyes with a stigmatism, and putting them in and taking them out, made her shy away from them entirely. Honestly, I cannot imagine sticking my finger in my eye and living to tell about it.

Then, at her recent eye appointment, we happily learned that although her nearsighted eyes haven’t entirely stabilized, they are getting worse at a slower rate. She asked the doctor, “Can I get contacts?” He said, “That is really up to you and your parents.”

Abby looked at me. “Mom, I really want to get contacts.” She proceeded to barrage the doctor with many questions. I know my daughter. When she has her heart set on doing something, she will do it.

She could get away without a new eyeglass prescription, and it was an even better time to consider a slightly upgraded prescription with contacts. That was it: Abby was determined to make this happen. She was tired of wearing glasses, although they look stunning on her. She could wear everyday sunglasses; she wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning her glasses anymore, which she really didn’t do in the first place. She would be free of four eyes.

So, we made the appointment to get fitted for contacts. During the first appointment, the doctor checked out her eyes and determined they were fine for contacts. He put them in and took them out for her. She found them to be comfortable and we realized there was no turning back. During the second appointment, Abby learned how to put them in and take them out on her own. She was a natural. She had no qualms about sticking her finger into her eye. The one challenge she had was pushing her long lashes away enough to get the discs in.

We bought the dailies, which we decided were not only more hygienic but easier to track and take care of, at least for this first round. She would wear a pair a day and throw them out. No hassle of cleaning them or finding them.

The next morning, it took her about 45 minutes to get them in. She was frustrated and cranky. She yelled at anyone who came within two feet of her bedroom. Both Brad and I offered to help, but she would have no part of that. Finally, with the help of my mother cheering her on by phone, she popped them in.

For the first few days, Abby was relegated to wearing them for up to five hours. Then she could keep them in for up to seven hours, and eventually, a full day. We went shopping on that first day, and she felt so grown up. I felt grown up for her. This was a big decision, and she pulled through. Just over a week later, Abby can pop them in as quickly as she can put on her glasses.

Last Tuesday, Abby turned 13. That’s thir-TEEN. She has always been her own person and, even a bit more mature than her age. We can see, this trend will continue. Wearing contacts is only the first step of many more in this next phase of her life. She will continue to make us crazy with the teen ‘tude, and she will continue to make us exceptionally proud. We’ll yell and we’ll hug. As she grows up, so will we. It gets harder to hold on to the past because the present and future bring rich and wonderful challenges and adventures to embrace. Welcome to the teen years! Buckle up and (hopefully) enjoy the ride.

To Our Son on His 10th Birthday

Our son will be turning 10 tomorrow, January 2. I looked back at the speech Brad and I said during his bris on January 10, 2001. There was a snowstorm that morning, but everyone mushed through the snow to our house to celebrate this special occasion with us. Abby was just shy of three years old.

Although this note is a decade old, the messages still ring true. And I have to say, he must have been listening that day because he's off to a terrific start.

Happy birthday, sweet boy. We wish you many, wonderful years of health, happiness, love, challenges and discoveries.

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To our newborn son, Ari Sherman Dinerman. With love, Davida and Bradley Dinerman.
a.k.a. Mom and Dad.

Today is a wonderful and special day that truly signifies a cycle of life. We are in our home with our most important family and friends to celebrate your birth and to continue a tradition that dates back more than 4,000 years in the Jewish faith, the ritual of circumcision. Ari, whose religious name is Rafi Shimon, has already told us that he is very pleased to not only been named for two extraordinary and important people his Great-Grandmother Ruth Dinerman and his Great-Aunt Sarah Cohenbut also to carry on the Sherman name.

Ruth, or Nana Ruth as she was fondly called by her 14 grandchildren and 15 great-grandchildren, was a woman who was always proud of her family and who always gave back to the community. She had a great sense of humor and a smile that was always available.

Sarah Cohen, Aunty Sally, or just Sah by those closest to her, was strong, animated and could bake and cook like no other. We remember her hearty laugh that rang through her kitchen. Sally was sincerely devoted to her family, her religion and tzedakah. We know that both of these wonderful people are looking down proudly right now.

To carry on the Sherman name will be an honorable task. The Shermans that precede you are a hard-working, talented and unique bunch. There’s also a tremendous sense of humor to uphold and pass down. And like Nana Ruth and Aunty Sally, we hope you too will possess a zest for life, family and tradition.

Ari’s name in Hebrew means “Lion of G-d” - strong and prominent. Rafi is one of four archangels and was one of the three messengers who visited Abraham and Sarah to tell them they would have a son. This symbolizes a high level of kindness and caring. Shimon means to hear or be heard. Listening, as well as offering sound advice at the right time, are great skills to develop.

Ari, you have just undergone a ceremony to “take a little off the top.” Please don’t hold this against us. We wish only the very best for you, and it is our promise that as you grow, we will offer you emotional, intellectual and financial support. We will respect your needs and desires, aspire to promote your natural talents, and help you nurture the characteristics your name represents.

We ask the same of you that we’ve asked of your sister Abigail:
• Discover and share the strengths and talents that are uniquely yours.
• Put your best into everything you do and leave each situation better than the way you found it.
• Seek and find that which is good and beautiful and joyous in all people and all things.
• Have a heart full of love, warmth and compassion.
• If you find someone without a smile, be sure to give him/her yours.
• Find peace within yourself and respect others.

To do all of this will take work and time. We are committed to you and to us as a family to make it happen. And please do not beat up your sister too much when she decides to use you to test her new dolly-dress-up kit.