Salute to Secretaries

© Dashk | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

© Dashk | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

Offices aren’t what they used to be. When I was a kid, my dad–and everybody else’s dad that I knew–had a secretary. She was always very nice and had candy on her desk, plus she answered his phone, ran his errands, kept his calendar and knew where he was all the time, even when my mom had no idea.

When I got older and got cubicled for the first time, I discovered that these secretaries weren’t just the ones who knew where the bosses were all the time, they were the ones who knew how to make the coffee, operate the copy machine, send a fax or find an extra large paper clip. They also knew when the boss was in a good mood and was likely to say “yes” to a day off, and even more importantly, when the boss was in a bad mood and was likely to bite your head off if you asked him to hold the elevator. Secretaries had super powers like eyes in the backs of their heads, and ears that could hear through walls. They could make appointments appear or disappear with a flick of their pen, and make or break your career with the raise of an eyebrow.

My boss called his secretary his “work spouse,” which was a pretty apt description. He would have been literally lost without her–she printed up a color-coded itinerary (“don’t forget to go potty and eat lunch”) and driving directions for him every day. Now, a whole generation of these Wonder Women seems to be lost. I’m guessing they’ve discovered they have the power of invisibility.

According to the International Association of Administrative Professionals (IAAP), there are more than 4.1 million administrative assistants and secretaries in the United States, but I defy you to find one anywhere but on school campuses.

Call an office today and you’re lucky to get a real live person to answer the phone, let alone a real live person that resides in the same country, let alone the same building, as the person you’re trying to reach. And as to knowing the boss’s whereabouts: good luck. You can try her cell phone, pager, emailing or texting her, but if she doesn’t answer, there’s nothing you can do but sit there in limbo and wonder if she’s mad at you or just taking a day off.

We used to have Secretaries Day, where everyone in the office chipped in for flowers and took our Gal Friday out for their annual lunch. That’s all over with now. Secretaries, where they still exist, have been transformed from the Target to the Tiffany’s of office professionals.

In fact, it’s hard to find anyone who’s not in the White House Cabinet that calls themselves secretaries. The politically correct term is “Administrative Professionals,” with this entire week designated to wine and dine them and generally try to bribe them into making sure your career stays on track.

According the IAAP, there’s been a ginormous evolution in clerical duties in the past 20 years. Where secretaries once took phone messages (remember those little pink slips of paper?), now they “coordinate communications.”

Technology has taken over so many of the tasks that secretaries used to do; we’re now up to Office Assistant version 3.3. Secretaries used to take dictation and shorthand, then type memos and letters. Now they’ve mastered integrated computer software applications and use the work “task” as a verb.

Whereas before we always knew they could do the boss’s job blindfolded with their hands tied behind their backs, now they actually do the boss’s job.

How do you show your appreciation for these unsung someones who run the show? As far as gifts go, forget the candy and the flowers. IAAP’s advice is a presentation from a motivational speaker or a membership in a professional organization, or–get this–a computer hardware/software upgrade. You call that a gift? I say nothing says “thank you” better than cold, hard cash–and pick up your own dry cleaning this week.

What’s your take on secretaries? Send me a memo, or better yet, have your people email my people at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com.

Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on April 27, 2007

My 100th Column

Leslie was very young when she wrote her first column! Image © Daviddomi | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

Leslie was very young when she wrote her first column! Image © Daviddomi | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

Writing 100 columns sounds like a big deal, doesn’t it? You’d think my editor would have thrown me a party or at least bought me a candy bar or something.

I started writing this column right after Koss started kindergarten. When he had his 100th day of kindergarten, they had a big celebration and all of the kids had to bring in 100 of something. Most of the children brought in buttons or pennies or crayons or fish crackers–you know, kid stuff.

As an overambitious first-time kindergarten mom who really needed to impress the teacher, I had the brilliant idea that we bring in a jar filled with 100 wishes. Of course I didn’t realize at the time that Koss only had the attention span to make about 47 wishes, and 23 of those were to have another one of the cookies I used to bribe him to focus on the remaining 69 wishes.

Despite all the duplicate wishes, I eagerly anticipated my gold star from his teacher, who would surely be blown away by our creativity.

Instead she tactfully suggested that perhaps I was giving my son too much sugar, and that his attention span might improve if he expanded his vegetable repertoire beyond potato chips and French fries.

I’ve learned a lot since then. Don’t ever let you kid tell his teacher what he really eats for dinner, for starters. And don’t ever start work on a class project until you’ve had at least one glass of wine.

I’ve learned a little bit about column-writing too. For example, even if I had learned 100 things since I started writing this column, I would never have enough space to include them here. Besides, 100 is an even number, and if there’s one rule I’m absolutely sure of, it’s that odd numbers are funnier than even numbers. My husband told me so. He also seems to think the number 69 is a lot funnier that 67 or 65 for some reason.

Writing this column has really done a lot to deepen my relationship with my husband. Now, instead of crying or throwing things when we fight, I get out my notepad and start taking revenge, I mean, ahem, taking notes.

And when my son does something horribly embarrassing or cute, I get out my camera and my notepad, and sometimes my tape recorder too.

My parents didn’t realize it, but when I started tape recording their childhood stories last weekend, it wasn’t just for the family archives. You never know where you might find new material.

Another great thing I’ve learned is that when you’re writing a column about your life, everything you do can be considered working.

“Why are you napping, Leslie? It’s the middle of the day.”

It’s work. I’m writing a column about napping.

“Why are you shopping/drinking/staring at your navel in the middle of the day?”

I’m working of course. There’s never a minute for myself, I just work, work, work, even when I’m sleeping I work. It’s 25/7 around here.

Apparently writing all of those columns hasn’t done anything to improve my math skills.

This is actually my 101st column. I realized that at some point last week, but I wanted to write about spring break, so I fudged it a little bit.

See, unlike my other job–as a reporter, where you have to pay special attention to things like truth and accuracy–you get to fudge a little when you’re a columnist. So when I tell you that this is my 101st column that doesn’t mean it’s my 101st column for THIS paper; I worked for another paper before this. And it wasn’t my fault they went out of business–although it might have helped if THAT editor had thrown me a party.

Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on April 13, 2007

My Gym Diary

© Tadija | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

© Tadija | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

The Weight Watchers theory is that writing down what you eat can make you lose weight, so I decided to keep a going-to-the-gym-diary to help me get in better shape. Here is what happened my first seven (non-consecutive) days at the gym.

Day 1- Feel That Credit Card Burn

Like most new endeavors, getting in shape takes motivation, determination, commitment, and cold, hard cash. I want to change my life, so buying the “lifetime gym membership”–where I pay $45 a month for the rest of my life, regardless of whether I ever break a sweat–seems like a really good idea.

I’ll also need new shoes, socks, a gym bag, sweats, a heart rate monitor, water bottle, an iPod and a lifetime subscription to “Ahnold Magazine” to get started on my journey.

No wonder all these people are wiping off their equipment with $20 bills. I guess that’s the price you pay to get in shape.

Day 2 – Just Do It

There’s nothing like new shoes to put a spring in my step. I drive the 12 blocks from my house to the gym, then circle around the lot 17 times before parking 3 blocks away. I’m exhausted before I set foot in the door.

I see some moms I know from school and end up chatting for an hour, while I occasionally look appreciatively at the equipment. If you’re at the gym, does that time count as a workout? I decide that it does and feel a little superior as I leave and notice the same three cars from an hour and a half ago still waiting for parking.

Day 3 – Checking Things Out

I go up to the weight room to look around. The grunting, the cyborg noises and the mirrors all bring back horror movie flashbacks and the armpit-vomit smell reminds me of my college dorm. Maybe I’ll try the cardio machines.

I’m still learning to use the equipment, so I peek over at Skinny Sally’s control panel to see what level and program she’s using on the elliptical machine. Of course I’m not very subtle and almost lose my balance trying to crane my neck for a better view. Must be the traction on my new shoes!

She gives me a dirty, sweaty, scary stare and quickly throws her towel over the lit up panel. Meow! It’s not like I was snooping in her purse, and why is it filled with ex-lax and breath mints?

Day 4 – Not Checking Things Out

I can’t stand it any longer. My bladder’s about to burst like a wicked rhinoceros. I force myself to go into the locker room to pee. As I wash my hands, I try to avoid making eye contact with Skinny Sally, who is completely nude except for her hair dryer, and now friendly as can be.

I sit down on a bench to compose myself.

When I look up, there’s a 95-year-old naked woman, Wrinkled Rhonda, two inches away from my face.

Day 5 – Real Time Versus Gym Time

I keep switching treadmills, but they are all defective. There’s no way I’ve only been working out for 17 minutes. It’s been at least an hour. I try to focus on what I’ll write my column about next week. If I’m thinking about work, can I bill for my time? I would call my accountant, but the gym has gotten very strict about enforcing their no cell phone policy on the gym floor and in the locker rooms–and I don’t have an accountant. Earlier today, Wrinkled Rhonda was naked in the hallway, taking a call from her great great great great grandson.

Day 6 – Power Reading

I have an epiphany. If you read while you’re on the treadmill, the time goes by faster. I should be reading War and Peace for my book club, but Bolkonski and Tolstoy are a lot less compelling than finding out what’s going on with Carmen Electra and Joan Jett.

Is reading the “National Enquirer” at the gym the same as reading it in the grocery store? I’m pretty sure that as long as you read it standing up, then it doesn’t have any calories.

Day 7 — Look Out

I’ve discovered something else about reading at the gym. I can’t read with my glasses and I can’t see other people without them. This is good and bad. My sister still hasn’t forgiven me for not recognizing her the other day. Give me a break. She was pretty sweaty, and very blurry.

On the other hand, if I don’t make eye contact with my high school homecoming date over there on the elliptical machine, maybe he won’t recognize me. Of course I’m twice the woman I was back then–hence the gym membership–so there’s no way he’d recognize me.

I remember from theatre arts that if you’re backstage and you can’t see the audience, they can’t see you either. I wonder if this is how it works at the gym? Maybe I should just take off my glasses when I look at the scale and forget about the gym completely.

Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound March 30, 2007

The Amazing Adventures of Danger Boy and Wimpy Mom

© Kapu | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

© Kapu | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

I stared up at Koss in amazement, as he confidently donned his bike helmet and harness to climb Gibraltar Rock. He looked so little, just a wisp of a boy, yet so excited and sure of himself. I couldn’t help but be impressed. Then I looked down at Rattlesnake Canyon 150 feet below, and almost lost my footing–and my lunch.

What kind of nut job mom lets their seven-year-old kid climb a mountain? Yet, there I was, terrified and shaking, watching from the side of the road. My Little Danger Boy was about to try rock climbing for the first time, with only a rope, a helmet and a harness to protect him from harm.

It was all his teacher’s fault. Teacher Danger Boy is an avid rock climber, and he promised the kids he would take them climbing as a belated Christmas gift. Talk about the gift that keeps on giving–grey hairs. Now it was time for him to “pay up on his promise,” and I was a wreck.

Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have been anywhere near the mountain. It’s been well documented that I’m not exactly the queen of all things daring and dangerous. My fears are completely rational. When I was 16 years old I took a 25-foot spill down a cliff onto the beach, and therefore all cliffs–even biggish sand dunes–are extremely dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

OK, I was wearing flip-flops and was too busy flirting with the boy I was with to pay attention to my footing, but that doesn’t change the fact that all cliffs–and even biggish sand dunes–are extremely dangerous and should be avoided at all costs.

But see, Big Danger Boy (a.k.a. my husband Zak) was off on a dangerous “mancation” of his own that day, kayaking down boulder-filled rivers, drinking way too much and supervising a bunch of Neanderthals wobbling their way through a testosterone- and alcohol-fueled makeshift firewalk.

Since Zak was unavailable, I had to be there to “supervise” Koss’s rock climbing adventure. I warned his teacher that I would be watching from the side of the road. Unfortunately, Teacher Danger Boy didn’t pick up on the massive waves of “please don’t make me come and watch this” vibes I was sending his way, and said it would be just fine for me to watch from afar. I could have strangled him with my bare hands, but Koss really wanted to go, and his Wimpy Mom just didn’t have the heart to say no.

Clearly I was the one that needed a helmet to protect me from the blow to the head I must have suffered that got me to edge of this cliff (if 20 feet away is still “edge”).

I flashed back to Big Danger Boy’s skydiving adventure a few years back. I spent what should have been a lovely Saturday with my nerves shot, chained to the telephone. I could have killed him when he came back with a house full of pumped-up revelers, complaining of groin pain.

This time there was stomach pain (mine) as I grabbed my camera with one hand and a tree to steady myself with the other. I don’t even like writing about this, it just wigs me out again. If I could have sent him up there with full body armor and a hovering helicopter I would have, but all I could do at that point was cross my white knuckles, fingers, toes, and eyes and watch from afar as Koss climbed up that mountain like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Through the zoom lens of my camera I could see the huge smile on his face when he got to the top. He was so pumped up and proud of himself. For a split second I thought that maybe I wasn’t such a Wimpy Mom after all.

Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on June 8, 2007

My Destination Vacation

© Dushenina | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

© Dushenina | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

While most of Santa Barbara was schussing down the slopes at Mammoth or slathering on the sunscreen in Hawaii, I spent my spring break on a guilt trip, once again. I’m a creature of habit and guilt trips are definitely my vacation destination of choice.

Well, not exactly “choice.”

I’d rather be drinking upside down margaritas in Mexico, or yachting in Europe without a care in the world, but given my current bank account, that wasn’t going to be happening this year–again. Like most other creative types who feel incredibly lucky just to be able to eke out a living without selling their souls, when there’s work to be had, I have to work.

Last week just happened to be one of those weeks. It also just happened to be the first week of Koss’s spring break. Yes, that wasn’t a typo. The FIRST week of his spring break. Apparently the families in our school district worked so hard for the three months after our three-week winter break that they need a two-week spring break to oh, say, ski in Mammoth or sun in Hawaii.

Not that I’m bitter or anything. If I could afford to take FIVE weeks off in the middle of the school year and go somewhere glamorous, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’m sure if I left out enough bowls of cereal, the kid would be fine.

Instead, I sent my son to camp, where he golfed, bowled, fished, hiked, learned a few swear words, and had a marvelous time. I, of course, felt incredibly guilty.

Despite the fact that I take my son to school every day, spend a ridiculous amount of time volunteering at his school when I should be working, then pick my son up from that same school every single day, have a semi-nutritious snack waiting for him in the car, and am always there after school to help him with his homework, schedule play dates, play handball, and take him to soccer/basketball/baseball/whatever else is in season practice–if I spend even a small part of his school breaks working, I feel guilty. If I spend a large part of those breaks working, I feel really guilty.

And if, as was the case last week, I spend a part of those school breaks actually taking a break for myself, say by putting him in camp all day while I do some writing and then go to the movies, I feel really, really guilty. Especially when my husband surprises me and says he wants to go to the movies one night during the week. Do I admit that I’ve actually already seen everything worth seeing? Then I’ll feel really guilty since he’s the one who’s been working full time while I’m doing full time chauffer/ part time career thing from home, which is actually harder, I know, because I’ve worked full time before when he stayed at home, but I feel guilty saying that because I know he’d switch positions with me in a heartbeat if I’d let him.

It’s a vicious cycle. But I’m comforted to know that I’m not the only woman who was raised on a diet of guilt (though mine was well seasoned with plenty of humor, I should add, so that I won’t feel too guilty when my mother reads this). A recent article in the Washington Post told the story of a woman in Virginia who felt so guilty about leaving her family in the evening that she almost missed out on an interesting lecture–titled “Mommy Guilt.”

Honey, I feel your pain, but I’ve decided to play through it anyway.

Rather than guilt tripping about my need to have a little bit of time to myself–and taking it anyway–I’m going to make friends with my guilt and take it on a few more outings this week. You won’t see us on the slopes, unfortunately, but maybe you’ll see us at the movies.

Originally appeared in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound April 6, 2007

Education 101

Are Santa Barbara Schools Making the Grade?

Education 101, story from Santa Barbara Magazine

Education 101, from Santa Barbara Magazine

Education 101, from Santa Barbara Magazine

For better or worse, the days when parents would simply whisk their children off to the nearest school are long gone. Discussions of “where are you sending your child?” dominate local parks, pediatrician’s offices and preschool playgrounds. While there’s no such thing as a one-size-fits-all approach to education, luckily we have lots of options in Santa Barbara. In general, our schools are getting better too–a concerted effort is underway to narrow the achievement gap between middle- to upper-class and low-income students. “Our schools are improving,” according to experts including longtime local educator Gerrie Fausett, the current superintendent of the Hope School District and former principal of Santa Barbara Junior High and Washington Elementary School on the Mesa. She says that schools are “doing a better job educating our students, and have particularly improved in their work with students that are not meeting academic expectations. The improvements and the dedication to making sure that kids are learning what they need to learn are moving forward.” Continue reading

Mating in the Millennium

Stuart Miles (Freedigitalphotos.net)

Stuart Miles (Freedigitalphotos.net)

The singles scene is changing fast.

Leslie Dinaberg tags along to dig up the dish on blind dating — 21st-century style.

MAN SEEKING WOMAN: Funny guy with killer body and money to burn seeks woman who doesn’t believe everything she reads.

Eye catching ad, isn’t it? It should be. That’s the online dating promo for professional online personal ad writer Evan Marc Katz, founder of e-cyrano.com, just one of the many Web sites for people who are looking for love in all kinds of interesting places. Continue reading

Mixed Messages

Television by Salvatore Vuono (freedigitalphotos.net)

Television by Salvatore Vuono (freedigitalphotos.net)

Be careful — what your kids watch may be hazardous to their health and your wallet.

If TV is “chewing gum for the eyes,” as Architect Frank Lloyd Wright once said, it may be causing more than tooth decay in children — TV may also be making them fat, according to two new studies.

“The more than 1,000 hours that the average school child will spend in front of the television this year will harm him or her far more than the one second of Janet Jackson’s breast,” said TV-Turnoff Network Executive Director Frank Vespe.

The typical child sees about 40,000 ads a year on TV and the majority of ads targeted to kids are for candy, cereal, soda and fast food, a report by the Kaiser Family Foundation found. In addition, many of the ad campaigns enlist children’s favorite TV and movie characters — Spongebob Cheez-Its, Scooby-Doo Cereal, Teletubbies Happy Meals, to name a few — to pitch products.

Apparently the $12 billion per year spent on advertising to youth works. “Commercials make people want to buy things, like Cox high speed internet,” said 4-year-old Sophia Bordofsky.

Indeed, a series of studies examining product choices found that children recalled content from ads they’d seen, and their preference for a product occurred with as little as a single commercial exposure and grew stronger with repeated exposures, found a recent report by the American Psychological Association. The Kaiser study also found that exposure to food advertising affects children’s food choices and requests for products in the supermarket.

While there’s no doubt that advertisers are selling to children, not everyone is buying. Many parents restrict their children’s viewing. “They do have to do their homework first and they have to take turns picking a show,” said Misty Bordofsky, Santa Barbara mother of four children aged 4 to 13. “Usually they’ll leave the room and go do something else if it’s the show another kid picked,” she said.

Numerous parents may limit their children to watching videos and commercial-free television and a rare few don’t let their kids watch TV at all.

“I am appalled by marketing that targets children with ads for junk food and toys. Young children are not able to understand the inherent bias of an advertisement. They are easy targets,” said Charla Bregante, a Goleta mother of two who is in that 2 percent demographic that does not own a television.

“Most of the advertising during children’s programming is for junk food such as candy, chips, and sugared cereals. Kids are given the message that these foods are desirable and nag their parents to buy them. In addition, children tend to snack more while they are watching TV. Turning off the TV is one of the best ways to fight obesity in children. Almost any other activity will use more energy than sitting in front of a television,” said Bregante.

“While older children and adults understand the inherent bias of advertising, younger children do not, and therefore tend to interpret commercial claims and appeals as accurate and truthful information,” said psychologist Dale Kunkel, a professor of communication at UCSB and senior author of the APA report, which recommends restricting ads targeting children under the age of 8.

“I can tell you that my children rarely nag me for a specific toy or food item. I believe this is because they are not exposed to television advertising and the consumer culture promoted in television programming,” said Bregante, who encouraged families to participate in TV-Turnoff Week, April 19-25 (www.tvturnoff.org).

Is there anything positive for kids on television? Yes, according to Professor Kunkel: “There are lots of positive influences that may result from children’s viewing of certain pro-social or educational programs. The problem is that parents have to mine the media landscape pretty hard to find those occasional nuggets.”

Television is an (almost) inescapable part of modern culture. “With the recent explosion in satellite and digital specialty channels, we now have access to a plethora of both good quality and inappropriate TV content. In this crowded television environment, the key for parents is to search out high quality TV programs for their kids, and whenever possible, enjoy them together as a family,” recommends the Media Awareness Network, a nonprofit organization that focuses on media literacy.

For parents who don’t want to opt out completely, David Kleeman, Director of the American Center for Children and Media, recommends that parents ask the following questions to select viewing that is good for children:

Does the program actively engage my child, physically or intellectually? Television watching doesn’t have to be passive. It can prompt questions, kindle curiosity, or teach activities to pursue when the set is off.

Does my child see others like himself or herself on television? Young children believe that television reflects the real world. To not see people like themselves — in race, ethnicity, or physical ability, for example — may diminish their self-worth. A lack of role models should spark discussion about how TV portrays different types of people.

Do I respect this program? Parents don’t have to like every show their children choose — in fact, young people need their own district culture. But parents should trust that a program’s creators understand and respect how children grow and learn.

Originally published in South Coast Beacon

Making their presence felt

Women's Fund of Santa BarbaraWomen’s Fund getting more bang for bucks

Looking for a low-key, high-impact way to tap into the power of collective philanthropy, Carol Palladini was inspired when she read a Los Angeles Times article about the Everychild Foundation. The idea is simple. Take the time, energy, and money spent on mounting and attending elaborate fund raisers and write a single check once a year.

The appeal was also simple: “Many women in the Santa Barbara area feel not only a need, but an obligation to be a powerful force for good in our community,” Palladini wrote in the invitation letter to the inaugural members of the Women’s Fund of Santa Barbara.

A few short months after that initial request, the Women’s Fund awarded its first donations on Jan. 31, giving $105,000 to the Santa Barbara Neighborhood Clinic’s Eastside Family Dental Clinic and $35,000 to two St. Vincent’s programs, PATHS (Program of Affordable Transitional Housing and Services) and Casa Alegria, an infant and toddler care facility.

“A group of women had been meeting at the Santa Barbara Foundation to talk about women and philanthropy,” explained Palladini. That group eventually evolved into a founding committee that included Palladini, Peri Harcourt, Shirley Ann Hurley, Jean Kaplan, Dale Kern, Joanne Rapp, Elna Scheinfeld, Meredith Scott, Anne Smith, Kay Stern, Marsha Wayne and Fritzie Yamin, as well as Raynette Cornejo, the Santa Barbara Foundation liaison.

Their intention was to take a year to develop the plan for the Women’s Fund, “but people started calling and saying ‘when can we write checks?’ which is amazing because usually you have to cajole and pull money out of people,” said Palladini.

“All it took was a letter of invitation to 500 women and the money started coming in,” said Palladini.

Each member contributes a minimum of $2,500 per year, which is then deposited in Donor Advised Fund administered by the Santa Barbara Foundation. At the end of the year, 90 percent of the funds collected are donated to one or more local nonprofit organizations.

“Our umbrella for giving is meeting unmet needs for women, children and families in the greater Santa Barbara area,” said Palladini. “The main goal is not to divvy it up in little tidbits, so that the impact of collective women’s giving is really felt.”

Granting is decided by a simple majority vote of members. Women who wish to ease the cost of dues may form a donor group, which then shares one vote in how the money is spent.

To join, send a check payable to Women’s Fund of Santa Barbara, c/o Santa Barbara Foundation, 15 E. Carrillo St., Santa Barbara 93101. For more information, contact Palladini at 565.0342 or e-mail her at carolpall@earthlink.net.

Originally published in South Coast Beacon in 2007.

The gift of charity

anankkml, freedigitalphotos.net

anankkml, freedigitalphotos.net

It’s hard to avoid the symptoms. “I want that.” “Mommy/Daddy/Grandma, buy me this and this and this…”

Here are some ways to help prevent your child from coming down with an annual case of “the gimmes,” and maybe even provide a little bit of instruction about the true spirit of the holiday season.

Start in your coat closets. Pull out all the old coats your children have outgrown or you don’t wear anymore and take them to Casa Esperanza (816 Cacique St., 884.8481), Transition House (425 E. Cota St., 966.9668) or the Santa Barbara Rescue Mission (535 E. Yanonoli St., 966.1316).

Or better yet, get your friends in on the act and host a coat party. Have guests bring coats that are used but still in good condition. Put younger kids to work cleaning out pockets and using masking tape to mark areas that need to be mended or buttons that are missing. Help older kids sew buttons and do simple mending. Other kids can decide which coats might need dry cleaning and which are ready to go. It’ll be a celebration sure to give everyone a warm feeling.

Another variation of this is to have a food party. Ask your guests for canned food and have children help pack it up for the FoodBank of Santa Barbara County (4554 Hollister Ave., 967.5741). You also can host toy or book parties along the same lines.

Sponsor a needy child or family. Transition House has more than 130 children to be “adopted” this Christmas, said volunteer coordinator Xochitl Ortiz. Interested sponsors can call her directly at 966.9668 x115 to receive a wish list from a child or visit the shelter at 425 E. Cota St. and pick someone to sponsor from the “Giving Tree,” where ornaments list a child’s name, age, and wish for something he or she would like for the holidays.

“We can definitely use all the Secret Santas that we can get,” Ortiz said. “We have almost twice as many people as we did last year or the year before.”

For those unable to make two trips to Transition House and want to just buy a toy, Ortiz said popular requests this year are Bionicles, Hot Wheels, My Little Pony, Video Now Players and Cabbage Patch kids. Wrapping paper, tape and ribbon are also needed.

You can also sponsor an adult, “by maybe donating a gift card to like Macy’s so that they can get work clothes after the holiday sale,” said Ortiz. “We’re hoping to get everything in by Dec. 20, only because if someone doesn’t get adopted, it gives staff enough time to go out and shop for that family or that individual.”

The Salvation Army (4849 Hollister Ave., 964.3230 x13) also has a similar program, with about 120 more families waiting to be “adopted” for Christmas. Working from a “wish list,” sponsors buy each child in the family a new, wrapped gift, one clothing item for each member of the family and a food or grocery voucher for Christmas dinner.

“You can even request a certain age group of children and we’ll try and match it as closely as possible,” said Lt. Stacy Cross, who asked that all items be brought to the Salvation Army by Dec. 17. There are also “Angel Trees” (similar to the “Giving Trees” described above) at most of the Santa Barbara Bank & Trust branches, La Cumbre Plaza and toy drives at seven of the local Longs Drugs locations.

Another way to give to the Salvation Army is making cash donations to bell ringers. Young children enjoy putting coins in the kettle and it’s a good chance to explain to them that the money goes to help people who are less fortunate.

Laurie Jewell Evans suggested this is also a good opportunity to teach children about budgets. Decide how much money you will donate this year, then put that money into an envelope in small bills and coins and keep it in your purse.

“Then, every time my daughter and I pass a bell-ringer, she can take a coin or bill from the envelope and donate it, until all the money is gone,” she said.

Another way to donate your spare change is through San Marcos High’s annual Penny Drive to benefit Unity Shoppe. Canisters are located at most of the local schools. You can also drop off your dollars and cents at the South Coast Beacon, 15 W. Figueroa St.

Sometimes all it takes is just a reminder of just how fortunate we are to put the holidays into perspective for all of us. Ortiz shared this story from Transition House.

“It’s not an over the top Christmas … when it’s a family as a unit that’s homeless, it can become quite a hard time for them to have to spend at a shelter. The parents get depressed because they feel like they’ve failed. The kids feel discouraged because they have to go back to school and tell their friends what they got for Christmas and they’re worried they might not get anything. And a lot of them don’t tell their friends they are staying at a shelter.

“It’s a really tough time for them, so we try to alleviate that … we surprise them on Christmas morning with all of the gifts. … We can’t do it without the help from the community … as soon as they find out what we need, everyone’s so wonderful as far as being able to provide.”

Originally published in South Coast Beacon