Bon Mot Archives - Being Bon Mot

An Open Letter to Seniors

To whom it may concern:

We owe these seniors WAY more than rolls of quarters and fancy pens. The Class of 2020 deserves to celebrate the way the rest of us did – in sweaty polyester gowns and unflattering mortarboards – but coronavirus has robbed them of those regaled traditions.

To the members of the Class of 2020:

This really sucks. And I’m so sorry.

You have been robbed of all the pomp and circumstance (pun intended) afforded you in graduating. Friends and family looking forward to celebrating your accomplishments have been forced to settle for lame video celebrations, car parades, and socially distanced commencements. Whether high school or college, this particular graduating class is getting more than a raw deal with the current COVID-19 crisis.

I feel you. I wish I could make things ‘normal’ again. And I’m sorry.

As the school year comes to a close, the seniors in my life have been heavy on my heart. Saying goodbye to students at the end of the spring semester is always sad, but this year has been especially difficult. When we left for Spring Break, we were sure we would see each other again. We anticipated some time away, but we remained positive. Then everything ended abruptly. Campus was closed (I’m sure there’s mold growing in a coffee mug in my office…); classes migrated online. And that was it.

If you got a spring break, it was overshadowed by the uncertainty and impending doom of the not-yet-understood virus sweeping the world. And worse yet, its namesake is the king of vacation beers. High schoolers missed Prom, awards banquets, and valuable time with friends before jetting off to the next thing.

College seniors trudged through Zoom University in their childhood bedrooms after abandoning the hard-fought independence of adulthood after four (ahem, or more) years. You missed parties, ring dunking (whoop!), and the opportunity to truly succumb to Senioritis. None of it is fair or fine.

It’s okay to be pissed. I’m pissed for you.

I’ll spare you the litany of discussions surrounding the job market, the uncertain landscape of fall college/graduate school, the impending uncomfortable greetings, and the like. Suffice it to say there may be more darkness before the light. But we WILL get to the light. We will. And when we do, you are still member of the effing CLASS OF 2020 – bonded in the age of uncertainty and unscathed by the broken promises of timely celebration.

You have sacrificed for this pandemic. Your families and loved ones have sacrificed. Believe me, hell hath no fury like a mother denied the perfect cap and gown photo op with her kid. You likely won’t be given sufficient opportunity to compensate for all these cancelled fetes. We can’t even figure out how to shop for groceries without anxiety.

I am grateful for your resilience and your ingenuity in the face of this abstruse reality.

As a person who has tortured my favorite people with ALL the graduations, I fully acknowledge what you’re giving up. You’ve spent hours and years sitting through lectures (sorry again), writing papers, taking tests, and learning stuff you may never need to know after this month.

Texas A&M Class of 1999 (undergrad) – Someone should have talked me out of wearing those shoes.

But more than the buildings and the desks and the ridiculous assignments, you have been asked to distance yourselves from your friends, teachers, and support structures. Those relationships are what matter, and they will endure. You are bonded by experience, and this is one profound experience, Class of 2020.

I wish each and every one of you the very best. This crisis does not define you. Your tenacity does. You’ll eventually receive the diploma you’ve worked so hard to earn. And when you do, I sincerely hope you’ll frame it and proudly display it right next to your face mask and that sacred square of toilet paper.

Out there things can happen, and frequently do, To people as brainy and footsy as you. And when things start to happen, don’t worry, don’t stew. Just go right along, you’ll start happening too!
Dr. Seuss, Oh the Places You’ll Go

A Room with a View

The transition to online learning has changed the way I see my students in so many ways. An ode to embracing the chaos…

We made it through our first few weeks at COVID-U! The fast and furious transition to distance learning is starting to manifest itself in new and interesting ways. Professors are settling into the new cadence of muted screens and electronically raised hands while students are getting more and more comfortable in the pants-optional environment. Struggling to find normalcy in the digital classroom, we cling to the familiarity of the material as we work to preserve the dynamics of the classroom. But it all feels different.

I’ve always been baffled by the idea of FaceTime. I grew up in a world where telephones tethered us to home, where we spun ourselves into spiraly phone cords over hours-long conversations. Where three-way and call waiting were the height of sophistication. “No – you hang up!” I didn’t get a cell phone until the year I graduated from college. I know, I’m old.

Now I buzz around in a world where students FaceTime with their parents while walking to class. No one is as worried about being camera ready as I feel like they should be. Several times a day, as the door to my classrooms open, I hear them say, “Mom! Mom! I gotta go. I just walked into class.” The concept of simple audio conversations seems lost. They opt to see everyone they speak with, including their parents. And I’ve never understood it. As much as I love my children, I have no desire to look up their noses as they commute to class.

Alas, in this new and evolving socially-distanced world, my professional life has morphed into a constant video stream. We Zoom lectures. We Zoom meetings. We even Zoom happy hour. I’m here for it. I’ve been delighted to see everyone’s sweet faces, even if it is online. I don’t mind the brow shots with spinning ceiling fan overhead. I’ve embraced the perfectly curated backgrounds (the Tiger King ones are my absolute fave!). Heck, I don’t even mind the occasional up-the-nose view.

I now get to see my students through a lens I never have before.

We no longer meet in sterile classrooms and cluttered offices. We meet at home. Students don’t sit behind desks. They lay in their beds or out by their pool or sit at their kitchen table. At home.

I don’t stand at the front of class in my sensible shoes lecturing, dry erase marker in hand, doing my best to keep students engaged. I sit in the quietest corner of the house, trying to juggle the imminent needs of my children with my commitment to teaching. I’m connecting with the faces and voices that are so familiar, broadcast from a wholly unfamiliar environment.

This is a room with a different view – a view from home.

I’ve met more moms in the past two weeks than I have in my entire professorial career. They pop into the screen, and we take a minute to chat and catch up. Because why not? This whole thing is weird. Their grown kid is finishing college at home, back in their spaces months before expected (if at all). And as a mom myself, I know they’re low-key checking out the whole Zoom university thing because, let’s be honest, it’s fascinating.

I’ve also started ending classes with open discussion and ‘Pet Show & Tell.’ My kids love showing off our cat, Noodle, and I am delighted to see the dogs and cats and horses that are keeping my students company at home. Ask me how many students’ pets I’ve met in my life. One. Only one puppy who was brought to a summer class in a lapse of judgement and caused such a commotion that I had to ask that it not happen again.

In this new digital learning environment, I welcome puppies and moms and little sisters and whomever else is in the room. You can eat, drink, exercise, watch television, text your friends, shop for shoes – anything goes now at COVID-U. And showers are always optional. I’m embracing the loss of control of my classes and choosing to embrace the chaos. Because it’s all chaos right now.

The pedagogical paradigm has shifted in light of this world-wide pandemic. Learning objectives now center on the preservation of both physical and mental health. Course curriculum has taken a backseat to empathy and compassion. The classroom looks different, but it’s the meeting of the minds that matters most. And I am excited to meet my students where they are.

I would love to hear about your adventures in online learning. Please share them because we’re all in this together.

Shoutout to my Nonprofit Management students for agreeing to be photographed for the feature image! 📷 You are the best models a professor could ask for.

In all chaos there is a cosmos, in all disorder a secret order.
Carl Jung

Coping with Coronavirus: Meme Therapy

I’m channelling all the feels through random memes these days. Feel free to comment and share your own.

I’m creating these as the mood strikes. And moods are striking often. Enjoy!

As we must account for every idle word, so must we account for every idle silence.
Benjamin Franklin

Follow @beingbonmot on Instagram for the latest memes and other updates.

This Box

A metaphor for life in the age of homeschooling and quarantine.

This box represents so much to me.

We picked up our kids’ school materials last weekend to prepare for an indefinite period of homeschooling. Like the rest of the known universe, our schools are closed. I am henceforth in charge of simultaneously managing the formal education of a 6th grader and a 2nd grader. I teach adults for a living; I’m well aware that I have neither the skills nor the patience to engage in primary school instruction. This box represents unfamiliar territory.

The amazing teachers, administrators, and counselors at the school cleaned out lockers and desks (think about all of the fun and yucky stuff they found). Then they packaged all the supplies we would need to ease the transition. They put everything into carefully labeled boxes for the kids, ready to be opened and absorbed in a new environment. This box represents a dedication to learning.

I felt the love and attention each box was given as they were carefully loaded by volunteers into the car. But something wasn’t right; it felt cold. The sterility and caution of the current environment was apparent. Everyone wore gloves and stood awkwardly far apart from each other. The typical warmth of our school community was missing. This box represents social distancing.

It broke my heart to tell my daughter she couldn’t get out of the car to hug her favorite principal when we arrived at school. Teachers were fighting back tears as they waved from afar and told us how much they missed their students. This week we’ve gotten so many emails and check-ins from everyone at school saying how hard the physical separation is. We feel it. This box represents the love teachers have for their students.

We’ve spent the last week foraging through the books and supplies in the box. Both kids were relieved to have familiar materials as we worked through the first week of homeschool. The textbooks, pencil stubs, and incomplete sets of crayons provided surprising comfort. This box represents my kids’ nervous excitement about schooling at home.

This is our daughter’s last year on the ‘lower’ campus of our school. The thought of her not returning to her second-grade classroom, sitting with her friends, and listening to her fantastic teacher is devastating. She may not swing at recess or eat in the cafeteria or worship in the chapel again. This box represents an unfamiliar grief.

Our first week of distance learning, utilizing the tools carefully packed in this box, was fraught with highs and lows. We are all adjusting and finding ways to connect to the material, to normalcy, and to each other. There were no instructions in the box. There were no answers in the box. This box represents an indefinite period of uncertainty.

Also, I’m really delayed in getting this post together. It has been on my ‘To Do’ list for almost a week. I find my ability to focus and prioritize my own needs has significantly diminished in quarantine. I’m working hardest to preserve calm and stability within the walls of our home without the freedom of exploration or luxury of socialization. And we’re adjusting. We’re practicing grace and finding fun where we are instead of seeking it somewhere else. This box represents a new (albeit temporary) normal.

Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome.
Brene Brown

RHOD Recap – Episode 3

Our favorite Dallas Housewives travel to Careyes to celebrate D’Andra’s 50th birthday, dish about prenups, and take a ride on the Tragedy Train.

In honor of the Real Housewives of Dallas girls’ trip to Mexico, let’s spice it up a bit, shall we? I think a highlight reel of the Episode 3 revelations is the best way to proceed with this recap. And there’s a lot going on tonight so let’s start unpacking this (suitable for commercial flights) luggage.

Put on your fabulous metallic bathing suits and pour a margarita, everyone!

Here’s what we learn in tonight’s episode…

Jeremy does laundry. D’Andra doesn’t.

The feminist in me just loves that this hot house husband (Stephanie’s roast, not mine) is called out for doing the laundry by his wife!

Real Housewives of Dallas Jeremy D'Andra

LeeAnne is good at getting free stuff for her wedding.

The scene where LeeAnne visits Nardos to design her wedding dress is — in the words of my 6th grader — cringey. I’m not sure if everyone was on the same page when the budget talks started, but Steve, the dazzling wedding planner, handles it like a boss. We’re seven weeks from the wedding, and there’s one thing we know for sure about that free dress — it will have a train as long as a…

Stephanie Sees a Life Coach

She and the kindergarten version of herself work on pervasive issues of low self esteem and anxiety. I love moments of venerability from my favorite housewives — they are so important for the ‘real’ part of reality tv.

D’Andra’s Priorities (in order)

Hair Emergencies
Sleep
Meeting with Travis

Careyes is a two hour drive from Puerto Vallarta.

Well, first we learn that Careyes is a beautiful coastal city in Mexico with a scary bridge across the water. But we have to get there by traveling via an annoying van trip through what can only be described as the ‘real’ non-resort-esque Mexican countryside. Better use the potty at the airport next time, ladies!

D’Andra’s a slob, and she owns it.

LeeAnne likes to sleep alone.

Listen, girl, I am with you on this one. While I appreciate Kary’s effort to use sleeping arrangements as a way to unhinge the bestie brigade, grown-A women don’t need to share a bed to feel close. Clearly the seven-bedroom compound has room enough for everyone.

Kameron’s Superlatives

Most likely to get lost in the airport on the way to college.
Most likely to be on the cover of Cosmo.

Looks like Kameron hasn’t changed a bit since high school. Could we love her any more?!?

D’Andra dated Eduardo’s brother!

And had she known about the Careyes vacation home, she might have made more of an effort in the relationship. (Guillermo is still single, ladies!)

Kary has her own jewelry line.

In the fight against the insulting infantile spousal allowance, Kary and Kameron bond over having their own money by way of their separate businesses. Now onto a collab – edible pink dog bracelets!

All About the Prenups

Kary has one. Stephanie has one. Jeremy has one. Kameron has one too.

Brandy doesn’t. And LeeAnne, well she’s a fourth-wife-lifer so no apparently there’s no need.

We also confirm what many of us already know — sometimes prenups include a weigh-in provision for wives. And it’s not just a Dallas thing. Rest assured, y’all, there’s no weight requirement for Mrs. Westcott, and she has a clever cupcake plan if anyone tries to change it.

The tragedy train has left the station.

We end the episode with some pretty heavy dinner conversation. While the other ladies do their best to stay out of the fray (Brandi is snoring away in her room), Kary and LeeAnne swap tragic stories of their upbringing.

Kary’s mom was an alcoholic and blew through all of her family’s money.

LeeAnne doesn’t want children because of her rough childhood. And she was molested over a shockingly long period of time. And she’s attempted suicide three times. Things get uncomfortable and tense, and we see LeeAnne’s fearlessness shine once again, albeit irascibly, in her confrontation with Kary.

I can’t wait to see what we learn next week! Until then…

Catch up on all #RHOD Recaps and subscribe to the blog!

RHOD Recap – Episode 2

Stimulating workouts, contrasting date nights, and infuriating shopping sprees play second fiddle to D’Andra’s 50th Birthday Roast in this episode of the Real Housewives of Dallas.

There’s a lot going on this week, y’all! The ladies are out and about trying a “vagine” stimulating workout at Ninety20, chatting over some delicious chips and queso at Kung Fu Saloon, and suffering through a $729 grab at a daughter’s affection. We are ushered along on a tour of some of Dallas’s hotspots (Cru, Sixty Vines, One Sette, oh my!), but end up at the center point of Episode 2 — D’Andra’s 50^th birthday ‘roast’ party.

Date Night

First, how cute is this glimpse into Rich and LeeAnne’s date night at Matchbox over margaritas and spinach dip? I love their interactions, and the fact that Rich has finished writing his vows well before LeeAnne even starts them is pretty endearing. I find so much truth in LeeAnne’s confessing she never really saw herself married, acknowledging that she always thought she’d have to take care of herself. Their date night conversation says a lot about the issues LeeAnne is still having with D’Andra, as she admits to being unfaithful to others their first date. Also, just spit balling here, but doesn’t Rich’s eye patch need its own Instagram?!

Real Housewives of Dallas LeeAnne Locken

How about Kary’s date night with Eduardo? Juxtaposed with LeeAnne and Rich’s time together, there’s palpable tension between these two. Maybe they’re just hungry. Kary calls out Eduardo’s jealousy and acknowledges some hard years during their second marriage. Regardless, they’re coming up on their 10^thanniversary, and I’m hearing some warning bells. Given that she’s new here, I’m anxious to see where the Latin lovebirds end up. Note to servers in Dallas though: do NOT attempt to take Kary’s dinner order before her appetizers come!

Beavis & Bestie

We’re still loving Brandi and Stephanie’s truly sophomoric friendship. Maybe it’s my weaknesses for 90s references, but the Beavis & Butthead moments are some of the best of the night. Brandi has memorized her roast but keeps notes on her hands. Stephanie is clearly nervous about the possibility of bombing at the party, but it’s so fun to see them fully embrace each other’s crazy. By the way, did anyone else catch that Brandi practiced her speech in the shower… for TWO HOURS?!?

Brandi Redmond Stephanie Hollman Real Housewives — Palm vs. Paper – The Battle of the Roast Notes

LeeAnne and D’Andra, on the other hand, are all business and a little bit of shade at their wine lunch. Ahem, Ms. Locken: “My mother doesn’t have any financial hold over me so I don’t really have a need to talk to her.” LeeAnne is clearly still pained by what went down and is seeking some pretty specific penance. It’s not enough for D’Andra to say she’s sorry (apparently for the third time), LeeAnne needs her to acknowledge that she was wrong to make accusations about Rich’s infidelity. D’Andra only sort of repents, but patches things over by inviting LeeAnne to her birthday party.

The Meat & Potatoes aka D’Andra’s Birthday Roast

For starters, how much do we love that no one is buying that this is an actual roast? Setting aside the idea that it’s not really customary to ASK to be roasted, D’Andra decides she wants to spend her 50th birthday with people having fun and “saying all the things they’ve wanted to say in public.” Um…. okay. We’ll see how this goes.

D’Andra’s assistant of three weeks acts as the emcee for the fete, and there’s not too much roastin’ going on at this roast. LeeAnne’s dissection of the event during her confessional is SPOT on; the hairs on her head speak the truth! Also true to form, Stephanie and Brandi come to play mocking everyone from Mama Dee to House-Husband Jeremy. Everybody else seems to play softball with the microphone.

(Said in your best Mama D Voice) “We’re changing the name of Hard Night, Good Morning…”

And then there’s the gift of… DONUTS! Jeremy gives D’Andra 50 donuts at the party to celebrate her love of food and the five years they’ve spent together. The other girls are appalled, rightfully so, but this gives a whole new spin on the birthday girl’s role as a sugar mama. There is no shame in her donut game, and they serve as the perfect dessert for this lukewarm roast.

What do you think of donuts as a birthday gift? What would you like 50 of to celebrate your 50th?

Next week we take a commercial flight to this casa enorme…

Catch up on more #RHOD recaps: Episode 1 – “Tales of the Glitter-Farting Wedding Planner & ‘Friendtervention'”.

Subscribe and follow the blog @beingbonmot.

RHOD Recap – Episode 1

RHOD is off and running, and this looks like the beginning of a beautifully dramatic season!

My ladies from Real Housewives of Dallas are back, and they came to play! Episode 1 of season 4 feels like a gentle slope up to a pretty freaking dramatic season. We spend most of the hour getting reacquainted with some old friends and meeting the newest RHOD cast member, Kary. All in all, nothing big happened in Big D this week, but we can see the drama fog rolling in…

Meet Kary

Let’s start with the newest Housewife, Kary, a pretty transparent casting choice and friend of D’Andra’s. Kary’s role as it appears at this point is to add spice and subtitles to the franchise. She spent a lot of time outlining her feelings about sex (apparently lackluster after 10 years of marriage) and sexiness (needing to tone it down on a beach trip with her teenage daughter). From where I’m standing, it looks like she’s going to give Sexual Chocolate a run for his money.

Also Kary is still grinding axes with LeeAnne over the RoundUp comment from TWO SEASONS AGO… about the cast member she replaced!! (By the way, Cary, we miss you. And we miss Mark’s Molteni. But mostly missing Cary…) I’m looking VERY forward to Kary’s (with a “K”) interactions with Kameron and LeeAnne this season, and most especially the subtitles.

Here Comes the bride

We find LeeAnne fretting about her impending nuptials. She’s going over details with her glitter-farting wedding planner, Steve Kemble, and over-explaining her networking role (the supposed reason she’s getting deep discounts on goodies for her wedding — because I’m sure it has absolutely nothing to do with being featured on national television.) And listen, I’m not buying all this ‘stressed out bride’ business, and I hope it doesn’t become a central theme. Wedding planning is nothing for a carny kid and former pageant queen; it’s just another day at the office!

Real Housewives of Dallas Steve Glitter Farts — Glitter Farts = Genius Editing

The real LeeAnne story is her ongoing feud with D’Andra. And this is a REAL real feud. These ladies haven’t spoken in months, despite their agreeing to see a ‘relationship coach’ at the Season 3 Reunion. (Is that really a thing for friendships?!?) I kind of hate that it’s still going on. More on this in a minute…

Brandi’s Bratty Kid

Brandi is trudging along like the rest of the moms in the universe, trying to keep it together in the midst of chaos. And it appears the chaos with her sweet ginger kids is in full swing. Bruin is walking and couldn’t be cuter. But Brooklyn looks to be driving Brandi to the Jesus-juice. Now, I’m generally opposed to talking crap about other people’s kids, but Brandi uses some pretty unkind language to describe her own daughter (justified from what we see) and practices patience at a level some moms may not see fit to exercise. We’ll see where this one goes. At the very least, I hope someone holds on to this footage to show Brooklyn when she starts complaining about her own pre-pubescent daughters.

The Housewife & The Harvard Man

Stephanie and Travis seem to have gotten their act together, and they’re now officially #couplegoals. We’re a long way from annoying to-do lists and seemingly misogynistic marital behavior. Travis is facing a self-admitted midlife crisis, reinventing himself in anticipation of his 50th birthday. I dare say his self-care regime has been influenced by his time with Harvard co-eds, and I LOLed at Stephanie’s testimonial about his new rituals. I absolutely love this story line and really, really hope we get to see Travis talk D’Andra through her cash flow crisis and Mama D issues.

Real Housewives of Dallas Travis — No outward signs of midlife crisis.

The Friendtervention

The central theme of episode is the “Friendtervention” staged by Stephanie for LeeAnne and D’Andra over their years-long feud. Kameron and Kary are off on spring break, but Brandi and Stephanie are determined for their friends to mend fences. D’Andra is already fraught with stress over her failing business and mama drama, but she says she wants to try to work things out (sans relationship coach it seems). LeeAnne comes looking for an apology over accusations of Rich’s infidelity. I’m sorry, y’all, but things don’t look good for these two.

I don’t see these former friends clearing the air and laughing all of this off (Brandi’s goal, not mine) any time soon. I’m sure LeeAnne’s amygdala was on overdrive, but she does well keeping it together (eyes darting around for a bowl to bang). D’Andra’s posture was en fuego, and she’s obviously choosing her words very carefully trying not to make things worse. We end the episode with a toast to the future, but what does that mean?!? (Spoiler Alert!) We already know D’Andra didn’t attend LeeAnne’s wedding so where, oh where, do we go from here?

Real Housewives of Dallas D'Andra Posture — #posturegoals

What do YOU think of the new season?

Are you #TeamLeeAnne or #TeamDAndra??

Stay tuned for more drama this season! Subscribe to the BonMot blog for instant RHOD updates straight to your email – or – Follow me on social media @beingbonmot.

Real Housewives of Dallas Stephanie and Travis

The Night Before School Starts

A poem celebrating the new year and the joy some parents relish in sending their kids back to school.

Twas the night before school starts,
When all through the house,
Not a kid was whining or begging for a snack.
It's time to resume schedules: bedtime was back. 

The backpacks were hung on their hooks by the door.
We all know this is the only night they’re not spread on the floor.
Children were sleeping while the sun is still out.
With visions of recess swirling about.

Mama with her wine glass and Dad with his bourbon,
Just settling down to binge watch “Jane the Virgin”.
When feelings of guilt start to creep in,
Should we be this giddy that school starts tomorrow?
Pretending the end of summer is, oh, such a burden!
 
With siblings fighting, screen time overload, and battles for showers,
Who wouldn’t want another couple of hundred hours?
With grocery store visits accompanied by beggars,
Trying hard not to be the mom who is craggier.

Finding contraband bags of Cheetos in the cart;
And every conversation punctuated with a fart.
Living this dream we call summer...
I won’t even think the early alarm is a bummer.
 
It hits you like a ton of red schoolhouse bricks:
Freedom starts tomorrow – you do some high kicks.
You feel a cool breeze, there’s a pep in your step -- 
The unmistakable sensation of days soaked in ease.
 
The chores of the school year, despite being near
Are nothing compared to a kazoo in your ear:

Now! Snack Duty, Carpool, Lunchboxes, and Meetings;
On! Uniforms, On! Practice, On! Lost Shoes, and Required Reading.
From the middle of August through the last day of May!
All the parents complaining, “Why are things always this way?”
 
Hardly remembering the trudge of the year’s hottest months.
Forgetting the bickering and pool towels on the floor.
Kids not remembering the reminders before:
To pick up after yourself is a fairly simple chore.

Now the ungrateful boredom will come to an end.
On busses and sidewalks, our kids we will send
To shiny new classrooms filled with delight.
Hoping they’ll be worn out enough to sleep well at night.
 
Camp schedules replaced by a million activities.
Someone else, my apologies, dealing with proclivities. 
For the asking of questions and the sometimes sassy
Hoping the kids get a (metaphorical) kick in the assy.
 
Some kids skipping down the hallway.
Some moping all day.
Regardless school's starting --
Tomorrow’s the day!
 
Whether high school or sixth grade or tiny kindergarten,
We will meet our new teacher; there'll be newness and fear.
Despite this, happy parents (like me) beg your pardon
Because empty backseats and peaceful shopping are near.
 
So decorate your chalkboards and charge up your cameras.
These moments are fleeting, there aren’t many beginnings.
About thirteen or fourteen if we play our cards right.
Because you know come college, they’ve all taken flight. 
 
I’m choosing joy and elation instead of deep sorrow.
But I understand the sadness of school starting tomorrow.

Summer is over; we all made it through.
Now get to bed early because, in the morning, there's lots to do.

All this chaos, will I miss it?  (Maybe) No way!
Am I tired of the school year? Ask me in May.

Obviously inspired by the classic “The Night Before Christmas” with apologies to real poets. Also inspired by my daughter who starts second grade tomorrow, but insisted on reading “The Night Before First Grade” before bed.

**This post contains affiliate links to products I love. As an Amazon Associate, I may earn commissions at no additional cost to you.

I’d love to hear your Back to School stories! Please share them below and follow the blog @beingbonmot.

A Date with a Dinosaur

The months I’ve spent working on this blog have confirmed my suspicions — I’m a blogging dinosaur — an aged voice amongst a much savvier and more evolved technological species. But I feel like I still have some stories to tell so I’m not ready for extinction just yet!

Hi everyone. It’s me again. Taking time out of your very busy day to distract you with my musings. I’m so grateful you’ve landed here so I want to run a little something by you. What if I were trying to make a real go of this blogging thing? Sure, it’s a hobby now, a satisfying catharsis for my ideas about travel and motherhood and the professoriate. But would you be okay if we made this official? For example, would you subscribe to this blog for email updates or follow me on Instagram or Facebook? Would you take our relationship one step further and pin my stuff to your Pinterest boards?

I would be grateful if you would because I’d like to see where this could go. It’s really simple: just click those little icons over to the right of this text, and viola, we’re hooked up! (Also @beingbonmot if you’re more into searching.) If you’re here because we’re already going steady, thank you – our relationship is very important to me. (None of that Hannah Brown “This is why you don’t date two guys!” Bachelorette nonsense for me.)

In May, I promised to pledge $1 for every like, follow, etc. I received that month (my birthday month, no coincidence) to Bonton Farms in Dallas (see the original post here). I did increase my social media presence and subscriptions, but I fell short of my goal of 250. I’m so grateful for my friends, new and old. I always encourage my students to acknowledge shortcomings, especially in my fundraising class, so I want to be honest about the results of my efforts. I have learned so much from this experience already, and I genuinely want to connect my work here with causes I believe in. (More on this follow up very soon…)

My ultimate motivation is to grow in my connection with you, the reader, who should be doing something much more important than perusing this post. And thank you for that. I’d like this relatively tiny ripple of a site to begin to make waves big enough to surf on. I don’t have Ashton Kutcher/Kim Kardashian delusions here, but I wouldn’t be offended by a little more traffic. I’m simply putting it out there to see if there’s something to this whole ‘vision casting’ thing.

Listen, I don’t plan to quit my day job. That’s why I’m working on growth over the summer before I’m back in the classroom and in the thick of the motherhood juggle. As such, you might see more of me and Being Bon Mot for a little while. Thankfully this fossil has figured out how to schedule blog posts into the future, so look out!

I hope you like this work so far. And I hope you’ll take the time to comment and share and invite your real-life friends to follow Being Bon Mot. Sometimes I feel like I’m a bit all over the place with content. It’s reflective of the multiple identities I’m unapologetic for – mother, professor, wife, explorer, cynic, nerd – you get the picture. I’d love your feedback on the posts you read and ideas about what you’d like to see more of.

Those who know me know I am content with my small life here in Texas. I am happily married. I have two healthy, vibrant kids. And I happen to like my job (95% of the time – grading papers really sucks). But I’m also a woman in my early 40’s trying to steer clear of a midlife crisis. I have a voice and perspective that’s a little different than most bloggers out there. So I’m trying to represent myself and my experiences because I think there is as much of a need for people to exhibit real life as there is for representing lifestyle.

I have been known to refer to myself as a blogging dinosaur. And I am. Less than 20% of all bloggers are between the ages of 36 and 50. I’m clearly in the minority. My hope is that, once dusted off a bit, these old bones will reveal a meaningful construct for women, moms, nonprofit observers, and bon mot consorts. In other words, I have Tyrannosaurus Rex-sized ambitions and plan to stretch these tiny arms as far as I can.

I am sincerely grateful for your interest in the blog. If you like what you read, I hope you’ll follow and subscribe to keep up with the latest prehistoric news! Meanwhile I’ll keep the travel tips, mom hacks, and nonprofit sector observations coming until the big meteor hits**.

Photos courtesy of rawpixel.com from Pexels.

Nerd Alert!

** The leading theory explaining the extinction of all non-avian dinosaurs is known as the Alvarez Hypothesis. It postulates that a giant meteor hit the Earth about 66 million years ago, perilously altering the atmospheric climate and wiping out the population of terrestrial reptiles. You can read more about it here.

Women Buying Cars

I recently bought a car and lived to tell about it. This is the story and some tips for survival.

Ladies in the Driver’s Seat: Capitalizing on Our Buying Power and Rejecting Ridiculous Consumer Stereotypes

I recently bought a car. Well, I bought a minivan, but that’s a story for another time. And when I say I bought it, I mean I bought it. I went to the dealership, negotiated the deal, signed the papers, and, eventually, left with a shiny new vehicle. I’ve mentioned this independent purchase to a few friends, and they seem genuinely shocked that I handled it all myself. It wasn’t that they feel incapable of a car purchase; it was the idea of navigating the transaction without a wingman.

I get it. Car shopping is not my favorite thing. It’s intimidating and overwhelming, and I usually leave feeling like I need a shower. Compound the fact that I’m a woman and have only limited knowledge of automobiles (not because of my gender but because I just don’t have a keen interest in the subject), and things get downright scary. I don’t take my dad or my brother or my bestie or even my husband to buy a car. Why would I? It’s not theirs to drive. But, given the reaction I received I wanted to explore the idea of women buying cars a little more. The intersection of psychology and economics fascinates me. Throw in the question of gender disparity, and you’ve got yourself a topic worth blogging about!

minivan mom, women buying cars, Chrysler Pacifica — Blue Minivan Should Not Mean Car-Buying Blues

Women buy about 54% of cars in the United States, and they influence the overall purchase of 84% of vehicles. But we dread the car buying experience. Dealerships want us to believe that their sales staff treat men and women the same. And I’m sure some of them do. Others make their best effort. But some, based on my unscientific observation and very real experience, patronize and undermine women at some point during the transaction.

Case-in-point: When I was negotiating the price of the super-cool minivan I decided to buy, the sales guy bounced in so excited to tell me that he’d found me $500. What he failed to either notice or bring to my attention, was that the price of a bogus dealer package (who needs wheel locks on their mom van?) had actually increased by $200, actually netting a $300 difference from the previous offer. It wasn’t the amount that irritated me, it was the audacity of the Wizard of Oz-esque manager to assume I wouldn’t notice the difference. One thing I can assure you is that my ovaries don’t keep me from doing basic math.

Research supports these observations. Multiple studies dating back several decades confirm gender and race discrimination in pricing and negotiation during the purchase of an automobile. As a matter of fact, one study found significant differences in price even when all participants (men and women) followed identical scripts. While I’m grateful for the validation that my experiences aren’t unique, it’s discouraging that even knowledge and confidence don’t compensate for generalized perceptions.

I’m infuriated by the notion that we have to choose our car-buying wardrobe carefully, and that in 2019, women still experience these ridiculous biases. So how do we overcome this nonsense?

Do your research.

The internet has ample sources for trade-in valuations and true car pricing. I suggest knowing enough about your perspective vehicle to talk about differences in features, models, and reliability. Even incentives, rebates, and competitors’ pricing can come in handy. It’s also perfectly acceptable to simply show up, test drive a vehicle, and then leave. Salespeople won’t make you feel that way, but a quick spin to rule out one car over another is a perfectly fine (and encouraged) practice. When you get down to the numbers, don’t negotiate car payments – negotiate the price of the car. Ultimately that’s what matters.

Take someone to ride shotgun.

Honestly, things would have been much smoother and more fun if I had taken someone with me to buy my minivan. If nothing else, they would have provided some levity for my jump into the deep end of mom life. You don’t need to take your husband or dad or someone who appears to know more about cars than you. Pick someone you want to share the experience with, not necessarily someone you see as an expert.

A 1967 study examining the relationship between confidence and the car buying experience found that consumers were less vulnerable to persuasion when they had specific feelings of adequacy in making the decision. In other words, confidence only matters in car buying when it’s specific to your feelings about car buying, not general aplomb. Moreover, this and subsequent inquiries confirmed that buyer self-confidence increases significantly when they are accompanied by a “purchase pal.”

get out there, ladies — Study up and buddy up, and go buy that shiny new ride!

Geeky Stuff & Sources

Ayres, Ian, and Peter Siegelman. “Race and Gender Discrimination in Bargaining for a New Car.” The American Economic Review 85, no. 3 (1995): 304-21.
Bell, Gerald D. “Self Confidence and Persuasion in Car Buying.” Journal of Marketing Research. 4 (1967): 46-52.
Edmunds – Car Pricing & Reviews
Kelley Blue Book – The OG of car sales pricing and advice.