Noodles by Mail

How are you feeling? Of the half-dozen or so calls I fielded yesterday, the majority were from people croaking and hacking as though they'd spent the previous evening screaming lyrics at a Rolling Stones concert. And most of my family, Facebook friends and coworkers are either getting over a cold or flu or still battling something.

When I get sick, I flop like a boneless chicken into bed and wait for my husband Steve to come pull a snuggly blanket over my shoulders and kiss my forehead. And by wait, I mean wait. Sure, he might toss me a piece of toast and a glass of water as he gathers the kids and heads out the door to school and work. I can't ask for much for than that, really.

But then I spend the day with my head hurting and my stomach growling, wishing I could be transported back to the bedroom of my youth where my mom would come in with some soup and a popsicle. Basically, I roll around in misery and try to muster enough energy to drag myself into the kitchen for a cold bowl of cereal.

The next time you have an ailing friend or relative, think of how much that person might appreciate a service like Spoonful of Comfort Chicken Soup. This brand-new chicken-soup delivery business was started by a Florida woman, who came up with the idea of sending some comfort in the form of chicken soup to her mom, who was living in Canada when she was diagnosed with lung cancer.

In honor of her late mom, she devised a way to help others spread some warmth and comfort. The chicken soup is made in small batches using just the basic natural ingredients: chicken stock, pasta noodles, carrots, celery, onion, parsley and salt and pepper. She then puts it into a nicely packaged 64-ounce jar, and it's instantly ready to ship off to someone to make them feel better. Jars are $32, and you can also buy rolls and cookies to round out a nice meal. And owner Marti Bowes Wymer donates a portion of every purchase to the American Cancer Society – and that makes us all feel better.

Raindrops On Roses

In the spirit of the holidays, thought I'd mention a few of my favorite things that are impossible to wrap and equally impossible to live without:

• My son Jack's dimple, which he calls his "pimple."


• Bacon, regardless of how it makes the house smell all day.


• This morning on my way into work, I saw a 50-year-old man skipping down the sidewalk.


• The sound of my dog Olive's toenails on the hardwood floor when everyone else is sleeping.


• My daughter Kate's freckly nose.


• My mom actually used these words this week: "Well, do whatever you need to do. We're fine with it."


• Jack's picture of a monster inside a rainbow.


• My favorite Christmas ornament, which is a little porcupine made out of clay and actual porcupine needles, enclosed in a plastic ball.


• The fact that my husband Steve wants to sculpt a scene for a homemade snow globe.


• The Polar Express.


• My brother-in-law Andy, who pulled over to take a photo of a roadside sign that showed a picture of a cow and the words "agape."


• Kate's endless renditions of "Heart and Soul" on our little Casio. OK, that's a love/hate one.


• The smell of coffee and jet fuel because that means I've gotten up early to go somewhere.


• I was asked by a friend to write a note from Santa so her son wouldn't recognize her handwriting.


• LOL cats.


• A container of homemade cookies lovingly baked just for me by a good friend. Especially those poppyseed ones.


• Mull cider, because the aromas remind me of the warmth of my in-law's home.


• The sound of my sister's terminally happy voice on the phone, which sounds just like mine only happier.


• Gonzo, from the Muppets.


• The new Southwest Airlines iPhone app.


• Pie. All kinds.


• Snow. From a distance.

Happy Everything!

Good Grief!

Snoopy is 60. That fact didn't hit me near as hard as when Barbie turned the big 4-0, but still, that's a large number for a little black-and-white dog from the Daisy Hill Puppy Farm whose humble beginnings were as a simple comic strip in seven U.S. newspapers.

The simple Peanuts panels featuring Charlie Brown and his pals – the blanket-loving Linus, his cranky older sister Lucy, the talented Schroeder and all the others – have been collected into one massive tome: Celebrating Peanuts: 60 Years. The celebration kicked off last fall with a 60th Anniversary Peanuts Photo Look-A-Like Contest and will continue with other events throughout 2010.

Snoopy is as ubiquitous in our culture and upbringing as stuff like peanut butter and Slinkies – the characters and their catchphrases have simply become part of our daily lives. I carried my lunch in a Snoopy lunch box, wore a Snoopy watch and read (and still have) all the books. And who never put up a sign that says "Advice 5¢"? When the Grahams visited the Charles M. Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa earlier this year, we were all reminded of how silly, philosophical and culturally significant those characters and their stories can be.

So grab your blanket and a warm puppy, and get ready to catch up on 60 years worth of beagle culture.

Don't Worry. Be Happy.

Today's post is dedicated to all my pregnant and wanna-be pregnant friends out there. An edited version of this story ran in the Winter issue of Expecting! L.A., where you'll find even more comforting stories and resources.

I’m a veteran worrywart. And as a mom of two children who’ve somehow managed to survive to the ages of 5 and 9, I thought it might be helpful to impart to new moms and moms-to-be my experience with the things that, 99.9% of the time, turned out to be things I didn’t need to worry about. If you’re like me, you’re still wondering about the .1%, but please, don’t worry about that.

Here is the (abridged) list of things I worried about – and why you should try to focus your energies on more important concerns, like how you’re going to get your husband out of that deep sleep for a midnight diaper change.

What if I don’t bond with my baby? Yep, I fretted about that. What if I just didn’t feel “that thing”? “I have no maternal instincts!” I used to cry. Don’t waste a second on that one; once your eyes meet your baby’s, you will be forever bonded in the deepest way two people can be connected. I promise.

What if I’m a terrible mother? I make several small and large parenting decisions every day that lead me to think, “Am I sentencing my children to a lifetime of therapy?” But like me, you will find your way along this motherhood journey. You won’t be perfect, but neither will your children. But you’ll do your best to make good decisions, keep them fed and be there with the Bactine and hugs when they’re needed. And you’ll be there, the Number One requirement of a “good” parent.

My child will have some horrible disease. I can’t tell you that it never happens, because obviously, children do get sick. But what I did was waste endless hours and lots of energy Googling and wondering whether my precious bundle might be succumbing to something incurable. Do your best to keep your baby healthy (wash your hands, feed her properly, keep her away from obvious dangers), and the rest of that stuff? The odds are in your favor, and you should save your energy for worrying about important matters, like whether or not she has inherited your sarcasm or your penchant for expensive shoes.

What if I can’t handle giving birth? That’s the scary thing about pregnancy – there’s pretty much only one way out. Yes, you will be able to handle the pain. Yes, you will feel as though you can’t handle the pain, at which point you will be given the necessary interventions. You will lose all sense of propriety and modesty, but again, you will be focused on the all-important goal of meeting your baby face-to-face for the first time.

The world is full of germs! OK, I can’t dispute that one. At first, I fretted about the cat getting too close while I boiled the life out of baby bottles and scrubbed her little baby bathtub with a toothbrush and disinfectant. But that only lasted a day. After I plucked the first dog hair off my baby’s mouth I knew it was a losing battle. Again, wash hands. Again, don’t worry if you drop the pacifier or your mother-in-law can’t keep her hands off the baby. That’s normal.

From one worrier to another potential worrier, I hope these tips help calm some of those new-mom anxieties. And if you know any mothers of teenagers, please have them send me their list of things not to worry about.

Gaming Means Giving

With the holidays peeking just over the horizon, we know that a new wave of toys and electronics will be making its way into our cozy (in other words, small) house. So for a few weekends in December, we hold a few Purge & Donate parties. One of our most cluttered areas? The video game shelf. With a 5-year-old boy who loves his Wii, Playstation and DS – and a mom who maintains a pretty solid list of titles herself – the media shelves can start to sag.

Check out Donate Games, a nonprofit that takes your game trade-ins and offers a place where you can buy, too. The OC-based organization raises funds for so-called "orphan diseases" – a class of rare, debilitating (usually genetic) and often fatal diseases that strike a small portion of the population. For these diseases, which most people have never heard of, there are no cross-country run/walks or telethons. Founder Jim Carol, the father of a son who survived an orphan disease, started this organization to help  this underserved group.

The donation process is easy and painless. Just pop your games into an envelope, download and print out a shipping label and send it off. Then do some shopping to find cool new titles to fill those spaces in the shelves. And feel good knowing that you can be Guitar Hero on more than one level.