Toilet Paper Bride Gone Bad

     My girls are now 8 and 5.  I have gotten to the point where I no longer micromanage bath time. I occasionally stick my head in to make sure they are cleaning what they are supposed to be cleaning, and not flooding the bathroom.  Mostly they are fine, but this past time they bathed together, not fine.
     Somehow they got the idea to play toilet paper bride in the shower.  They make veils out of the toilet paper, and pretend they are brides.  They didn't realize the toilet paper would dissolve when it hit the water.  Little pieces of toilet paper were stuck in their hair.
     Now, for those that don't know me personally, my girls' hair is the curliest of curly.  I should further add, I use Deva Curl's No-Poo, which is more of a conditioner specially designed to care for curls.
     My eldest tried to wash out the toilet paper with the No-Poo.  This had disastrous results.  It basically made a paper mache of little toilet paper bits that clung to their curls.
     My older daughter came down the stairs, towel on her head, crying. "You are going to be mad at me" she said.
     "What did you do, did you cut it?" I asked.
     "No" she sobbed.
     "Did you dye it?"
     "No" with extra sobbing now.
     At this point I thought, it can't be so bad if those more permanent options have been ruled out.  I went over to her and snatched off the towel, to reveal her white encrusted curls.  She wouldn't tell me what it was despite my prodding and repeated inquires.  Then the little one pokes her had down the stairs and I see that there has been a second victim.  The little one pipes up "It's toilet paper!" Lovely.
     I proceed to try to comb it out.  It's not really working. I figure it will be easier if it's dry, so I send them to bed.
     The next morning, we work on it, and get some of it out, but each and every individual curl is encrusted in white.  My daughters fight us as we attempt to brush it out, and this is taking a lot of time and it's soon to be time for school.  My eldest got sent to school with half of her hair still encased in white toilet paper mache.  (At least we know what to do for the next crazy hair day!)
     I continue to work on the little one, who is not yet in school.  I get the idea to flat iron it. Thankfully this worked beautifully. Once her hair is straightened, the little white flakes brush out fairly easily.  She was very pleased with her new do.
     Meanwhile, at school, the second grade teachers are quite concerned with this new hairdo.  They discuss it with her, and she refuses to tell them what it actually is, out of embarrassment. She doesn't know that what they are thinking is actually far worse.  The child gets sent to the school nurse for more questioning. I can only imagine what the nurse thinks. She does some more work on the rat's nest of hair and toilet paper, and does a fairly thorough job.  
    When the bus arrives, I am please to see I don't have too much left to do on her head. This is a good thing, because it is time for dance recital dress rehearsal.  Of course these things always happen on days when they are going to be getting pictures of them taken.
     So the moral of the story is do not play toilet paper bride in the tub.  And don't use conditioning, non-sulfate shampoo to try to wash any foreign objects out of curly hair.
   

Tweenage Sexual Education

My eldest daughter just turned 8. We have had the "where do babies" come from talk.  The daddy puts a seed in the mommies belly yadayadayada.  Lately though she is asking more and more difficult questions, like how do some people have babies before they are married, while others do not. I do my best to be honest with her while still keeping the conversation age appropriate. I hope to do right by her, and prepare her well for the big scary world out there.

I think back to my own "talk" with my parents. As I started to show signs of puberty, my parents asked me if I knew the low down.  I had read plenty of Judy Blume, and had a general idea. I answered in metaphors and my father, a scientist, told me I had no clue what I was talking about. Looking back, it may have been overly poetic, but I was at least sort of right.  I was handed a copy of "Our Bodies Ourselves" and sent on my way.

While I did have a general sense of the biology behind the female cycle, there was so much that I did not feel prepared for.  The Sex Ed both at home and at my Catholic school were all about "DO NOT". There was no help for dealing with the finer subtleties of social interactions with the opposite sex. Like so many women, I had to rely on my peers for advice, not that they were any more knowledgable than myself. I was a source of information for my younger sisters, and I hope they found themselves slightly better prepared for the world than I was.

One thing about my coming of age in the midst of an AIDS epidemic, there was a lot of information about condoms all over the place.  "No glove, no love" commercials abounded, and there were many PSAs like this one with Johnny Depp.  When I was in 5th grade, the word condemn was a vocabulary word one week. Each week our teacher would have us pronounce the word and venture a guess at a definition.  When we got to condemn, the class fell silent.  We were all thinking the exact same thing.  The teacher was stunned by our silence.  She prodded for a few minutes. Surely someone must know this word.  Finally, knowing I was a voracious reader and may have an idea, she called on me.  I meekly said "condom". Thankfully she burst out laughing so I did not have to proffer a definition for the word.  Nearly in tears, she said, "No, they wouldn't put that on a 5th grade vocab list." Honestly though, I think we all could have benefitted from an explanation of what one was, just as we should have been instructed as to the correct spelling of the word condom.

I remember being asked by some older girls if I was a "virgin" when I was about 12.  I had no concept of what the term actually meant beyond reference to the Virgin Mother and perhaps the Madonna song.  Of course I was one, but I didn't really know what the question meant. I had not even kissed a boy at that point, but given the paradox that Mary can be a virgin and somehow end up pregnant, what sense is the word supposed to make to a kid?  

Fast forward 2 or so years to high school.  After years in a nice little Catholic School environment, I was thrust into a large, inner-city public high school.  The first week of school, an upper classman pinned me against a locker and said to me perhaps the dirtiest thing I have ever heard, even to this day. I had no idea what to do or what to say. This for sure would now be labeled sexual harassment, but back then, I'm not so sure that even if I had said something to someone that anything would have been done. Several male teachers and even the Vice Principal at the time were known for placing advances on young pretty girls.

I eventually found my way, though it took some trial end error, and a failed first marriage to figure it all out.  I'm hoping my daughters have an easier time of it.  I do hope to arm them with more knowledge than I had, and maybe even some vocabulary words. Otherwise they may turn to their friends, or worse, to the interwebs for answers.  God only knows what will come up if they search for certain keywords.

In Defense of the Common Core

I hear a lot of Common Core bashing. My 2nd grader is one of the first to be educated with the Common Core, beginning from Kindergarten.  The math has changed from when you were a kid, we are aware.  Parents are frustrated.  I get it.  Not being able to explain things to your 7 year old who doesn't really want to do their math homework, and you don't get it put you in a less than ideal situation.

Half the parents I know posted this video when it came out, as a blow against the Common Core. In case you didn't watch it, here is the gist. There is a math problem.  The kids are expected to use a method that the mother in the video deems ridiculous.

Mr.Yamata's class has 18 students.If the class counts around by a number and ends with 90. What number did they count by?

Most reasonable people would simply divide 90 by 18 to get 5.  However, in this scenario, the kids are expected to draw 18 circles and make hash marks rather than treat this as a division problem. How ridiculous is this? Turning a one step quickie division problem into a 108 step problem.  What is the point of that? Let's throw out all the skills that are being taught and go complain to the school board.

The point of that is it teaches procedural knowledge. It gives them an alternate method to get to the answer. This may not seem important when we are talking about a simple division problem, but what if the problem is more complex?

In an Educational Psychology class I am taking, we were given a seemingly simple problem.  Here we are all graduate students. The majority of us have taken statistics in some form.  All but 3 of us took the NYS Math Regents Sequence. There were even 2 math teachers in the room.  So here is the problem:

You are making a fruit salad.  There are 5 fruits you can use - apples, strawberries, grapes, bananas, oranges.  The bowl you are using will only hold the salad if you limit it to 3 fruits.  How many different combinations are possible?

A. 10
B. 15
C. 20
D. 30
E. 120

The discussion begins. "Don't we use 5! and multiply out 5*4*3*2*1?" "No, you would would do that if the order were important." "I think she is right, but you have to divide it by something." "But what?  What do you divide by? Do you remember the formula?"

Then finally someone suggest we write it out.  A S G B O. Apple Strawberry Grape and so on.

ASG
ASB
ASO
AGB
AGO
ABO
SGB
SGO
SBO
GBO

So there are 10 combinations.  We as graduate students used a process very similar to drawing circles and making hash marks because not one of us remembered the formula to figure out combinations and somehow we got to the right answer.  Yes, if we could have recalled the formula it may have been quicker. Does that make our method less valid?

The point of the seemingly ridiculous exercise talked about in the video is to give the kids an alternate way to do the problem.  You can't always recall every formula for each problem by wrote. Occasionally you may need to figure something out using a less than ideal method, and that is okay. In this era of high stakes testing, it is important for kids to understand that there may be more than one method to get to the correct answer. You can also use a method like this to double check your work. So please, do all of the 4th grade math teachers a favor and cut them some slack.  They are teaching skills that will be useful in a variety of situations, even when you can't remember the formula.  

If you are curious the way you would do this problem follows.

5C3



n=5
r=3

(5*4*3*2*1)
(3*2*1)(2*1)

120
(6)(2)

120/12= 10

The Rules of Frozen Sheet Music

     I grew up playing Disney songs. I had a big thick Disney Songbook that I wore out, and had to replace because I loved it so much. I taught music lessons and often went back to the Disney songbook for various lessons.  I would teach Scales and Arpeggios from Aristocats as a fun way to teach modulations. Teaching music from Sleeping Beauty means you are actually teaching Tchaikovsky. "When I see and Elephant Fly" and "Cruella DeVille"are great songs to teach jazz patterns.

      When a movie like the Little Mermaid or Beauty and the Beast came out when I was a budding young pianist, one of the best parts was getting the sheet music and learning all of the songs.  Many happy hours were spent at the piano learning those songs by heart. So when Frozen came out, I knew that I would be buying the sheet music.  Somehow, now as a mother with children, my experience of the music was quite changed.

     First, when the book arrived, there had been milk spilled upon it within 5 minutes of it's entry into the house.  I should have taken that as an omen. I saw a post from Rants from Mommy Land on the Rules for Singing Frozen. I knew I had to put my own twist on the playing of Frozen songs.

1. There must be a child in my lap as I play anything from Frozen.  Playing piano around a child while also sight reading the music can prove challenging.  Sitting next to me on a piano bench is not acceptable.  Using pedals won't work either.

2. If it were up to me and my usual musical process, I would play the first song in the book, and then play through each one till I got to the end of the book.  This cannot happen. I have to play "Let it Go" first. Then there after some in fighting we may finally agreed on "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?"and then "In Summer" could be next. When I try to play "Reindeer are Better Than People" I was met with a chorus of nos.

3. The kids would be happy if I just banged out the melodies for their favorite songs. They really do not care if I play the chords and accompaniment or not.  When I try to play intros or bridges they get impatient.

4. If I miss a sharp or flat, they let me know "Mommy, you are not very good." They don't understand that the chromatics and modulations in "Let It Go" are a bit tricky, especially since the song is already starting off in A flat.

5.  I am not allowed to sing, ever, even if it is to help them with the words, or to correct their pitch.  Which leads me to -

6. Children singing Frozen are never off key, or at least you can't tell them that they are.  They can effortlessly sing a song that spans the entirety of 2 octaves, even if it means growling the low notes or screeching the high notes.

7.  I may not turn Frozen sing along time into a music lesson, in any way shape or form.  Frozen transcends notes and rhythms and any mention of "Peanut Butter" or "Every Good Boy Does Fine" will not be tolerated.

8. I can now only play Frozen songs.  Any attempts to play anything other than Frozen are met with booing.
 

A Fairytale Journey

On November 25^th, 2009, I was in a parking lot, waiting for my older son’s preschool class to be over for the day. Before I had to drag my sleeping toddler out into the cold, I spent a moment typing on my blackberry the first line of a story I had floating around in my head. “Much farther north than most humans would dare settle, December unleashed its relentless fury.” Until that day, writing as a career was just a far-fetched fantasy. But having one sentence down was a step I had never been brave enough to take before.

I didn’t always know that I wanted to be a writer. My experience was quite the opposite, actually. I never kept a diary as a child. I wasn’t even an avid reader. I preferred playing outdoors and I survived the long New York winters with Mario Brothers and Disney princesses. Reading and writing were both chores that went along with schoolwork.

By high school, though, I came to realize that my high grades were not due to brilliance, much to my dismay, but because I could write those thesis papers, expository essays, DBQs, creative projects, and get “A’s” on top of them. But I never had a passion for journalism, I despised all study of grammar, and I liked but didn’t love the “great” literature I was exposed to. And I was raised to be practical. I wanted to graduate from college and find a job. I was a true child of the Renaissance, good at everything, phenomenal at nothing, but I had to choose. So I picked biology as a major.     

College for me was like a day job. I never lived on campus. I would go to class, do the work, and when I went home, “life” began for the day. Again, writing was just part of work–lab reports, papers for my electives–and it helped boost my grades, but the bulk of my achievement was measured with exams.

I did pretty well in college with biology, so I assumed I had made the right choice. I never asked myself if I enjoyed the content. I did…enough, I thought. I would never love science as much as music, art, English, history, or psychology, but I didn’t see that as a problem. I believed I’d be able to pursue other interests in my “down time.”

Then came graduate school. I was doing so much science around the clock that I could barely stay awake in class. There was no down time. And here’s what happened. While trying to cram facts, theories based on facts, and theories based on theories into my head, the information just wasn’t taking root, and the creative side of my brain kept getting louder and more resentful. If any of my former co-workers ever looked over at me and thought I was in my own little world, I probably was.

           Thanks Eileen and Mike for your creative genius/computer wizardry 

The first “book” I imagined was a sci-fi thriller. I don’t remember the details. After I left school, I had to put the writing idea away for a while. Life intervened. I had a baby by this point and I was working in a genetics lab full time. By 9:30 at night, when my near sleepless firstborn FINALLY called it quits, I was too exhausted to watch television, so writing was out of the question. But, during those long experiments, my mind kept wandering to the idea that fairies seemed underrepresented in the fantasy world. And I knew why. Tinker Bell, circa 2007, was the fairy world representative, and what appeal did she have to an adult audience? Not much. And so, Christopher and Joseph MacRae were born. I had the basic storyline in my head for two years–two modern-day American brothers who believe they’re human, their missing fairy father, his evil fairy-queen ex-wife, and Cassiopeia, the fairy princess who thickens the plot in every way.

After I wrote the first line of Fairy Tale, the project idled until after the New Year. But then, thanks to improved cellphone technology, I could write anywhere, anytime. The true birth of “Pyxis” began in the microscopy “caves” of Skidmore College. By the third chapter, there was no turning back. I woke up before sunrise, went to bed late, and was chased in my nightmares by the very villains I had created…and they’re pretty nasty. In other words, the story wouldn’t rest, and essentially, it wrote itself. By August 2010, my rough draft was complete, and I was stoked. It was one of those “best day ever” feelings, something I had never experienced in all my years as a scientist.

After that, I tweaked, revised, trimmed and fattened the manuscript, and then had some family members help me out. I considered their feedback and revised it again. When I decided it was “finished,” I attempted to find an agent, and the process was heartbreaking, especially after one of my first letters received a promising response. But nothing ever came of it. And the rejections letters kept piling up at a time when my husband and I really needed a lucky break. I was also looking for a job again, in science. I had two major interviews, but they led to more rejection. By my thirtieth birthday (April, 2011), I was at an all-time personal and career low.    

Fortunately, my husband received a life-changing promotion at his new job. So we moved out of New York and left some of our problems behind. My career issues didn’t exactly go away, but the pressure to find employment was off. So I continued writing–I never really stopped–and I finished The Rising Star, the second book of the Fairy Tale series.

By 2012, I was pregnant (again), and spent my “free” time editing and entering book one, Winter’s Bite, into a few contests. Rejection then took on a new name. It was called “feedback.” It’s one of those things new writers can’t get enough of, until they do, and then they wish they could give it back in the form of some very choice words. Was it all bad? No. There was a fair amount of positive or constructive feedback. However, there were a few judges out for blood, and I overwhelmed myself with their reviews at a time when I was emotionally and hormonally unstable. The experience culminated in a disastrous meltdown at a Friendly’s in Bennington, VT. Luckily, my sister came to me with the idea of this blog at the perfect time. For my health and wellbeing, I needed a lightweight distraction from the series. So I spent the summer before Emily’s birth blogging about my pregnancy.      

   

                                              Emily Rose: A Pregnancy Story

Once life plus one stabilized to some extent, I revisited the contest feedback. I took what I could from it and ignored what I disagreed with. Then I embarked on the most ambitious revision project to date. The work was tedious and more challenging than I expected, and early on, I had doubts the corrections were necessary, or even possible in some cases. The point of view of my book (omniscient) wasn’t wrong, per se, but it didn’t meet “industry standards” (third person, limited). But I kept at it, sentence by sentence, chapter by chapter, and ultimately fixed what I once worried wasn’t fixable. By the fall of 2013, I called the project “finished,” once again, and despite my initial qualms, it was better than ever.

So why did I continue with a path so full of rejection, self-doubt, and heartache? Why didn’t I just get a paying job, go back to school, or succumb to the mommy-brain-drain powers of Dr. Oz and Days of Our Lives? The answer is simple. Because in every Fairy Tale character there’s a piece of me–the brooding loner, the analytical smartass, the optimist who refuses to let darkness prevail. And so their story deserves to be told…

And while Fairy Tale: Winter’s Bite is in the hands of an editor, I’ve been wearing in my sexy sweatpants, firing up my Keurig with the dedication of an addict, and cranking up the heat both real and imaginary, all so I could take a trip back in time to Gloucester, Massachusetts, 1979. There, I met up with Scott MacRae, the patriarch of my fairy dynasty, and the one who started it all–an epic fantasy war and a forbidden love affair with a human–and I let him tell his own story in Disgrace. It’s free on Wattpad, http://www.wattpad.com/story/11656358-disgrace. You don’t need to join the site to read it, but feel free if you’re ready to catch the new wave in indie publishing. Plus, I’m always on the market for new groupies J.

     

For more information about the Fairy Tale series, check out my new author page on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Alicia-Britton-Author/351622061645290). In the “about” section, I’ve posted a summary of Winter’s Bite and a brief excerpt. Please stop by. Let me know what you think. And go ahead. Be a fan. I dare you!

Lastly, I want to thank my dedicated readers–Carissa, Eileen, Greg, Katie, Steve, Brooke, Janet, my editor, as well as Leo and Mike for taking a look at my synopsis. Without you, Fairy Tale wouldn’t be as grammatically correct (Carissa), romantically succinct (Eileen), action packed (Greg), or logical (Steve). And thanks to all my future readers, like you. Anyone who has read this blog post in its entirety must have some interest and you are certainly worthy of mention!

Best,

Alicia


P.S. This photo is just for fun. Thanks again, Eileen and Mike. I think I laughed for a good ten minutes when I saw this for the first time...

Million Dollar Babies

      How many distressed babies does it take to pay a CEO? 12.  Cheaper by the dozen? Is there a discount for multiples. The recent remarks by AOL's CEO Tim Armstrong really hit close to home. In case you didn't see the news, here is an article about his original comments. 

Click here for the response from one of the mothers of said distressed babies.

      We lovingly call our twins the million dollar babies. I spent 6 weeks hanging upside down in the hospital, then when the twins were born they had 26 days of NICU time between the 2 of them, which all in all was a lot less than it could have been.  Thank God we had health insurance through my husband's employer since I had been unable to work through the majority of my pregnancy.

     When I first found out I was carrying twins, my mind automatically imagined bed rest and NICU stays.  At my 20 week ultrasound, I went in so excited to find out the genders of the babies.  My husband and I had agreed to a moratorium on the name discussion till we knew for sure what we were looking at. I left that appointment being told I was on bed rest for the foreseeable future. To add insult to injury, I was told that my baby girl had a heart defect, and may not make it.  The words "selective reduction" were used.  I don't care what your stance is on abortion.  When you are carrying 2 very wanted babies, the thought of killing one of them and simultaneously putting the other's life in jeopardy is not  something you want to think about. But I suppose Tim Armstrong would have had me cull the herd rather than shell out for a "distressed baby".

     Obviously this man has never felt the pain and anguish of having your babies whisked away before even get to look at them, as he was stitched up post c-section.  He has not had to lie in recovery, shaking from post operative hypothermia, and beg the nurses to check on the results of his baby girl's EKG and sonogram.  He has not had to walk the length of a football field one day post surgical to the NICU because the nurses were on the shift change and too busy to get him a wheel chair when it was time to feed the babies.  He has not felt the anguish that is leaving the hospital without the babies that he carried inside for too short a time. He has not had to take one baby home, leaving one behind. He has not had to beg his husband to take him back to the NICU at 10 pm for one last feeding of the sick baby still at the NICU, because  there is another baby at home that will keep him up all night. If he had gone through that, he would not be so quick to judge.

     Does he think that any mother would want a baby to have to be in the NICU.  No one would wish that for anyone. Conversely, if it were his baby, wouldn't he want everything possible done to ensure that baby had a chance at life?

     Tim Armstrong has apologized, but I don't buy it.  I think he needs a little sensitivity training to be sure.  Maybe he should go visit the NICU at his local hospital (and perhaps even donate a bit of his $12 million dollar salary).  He should bring some food for those families who are in crisis.He should sit and talk to them, and look in their weary eyes that are red from crying.  He would then know that no amount of money was too much to protect these delicate lives.

Volunteer Blues

I have been a volunteer in many capacities.  I have served on parish councils, headed youth ministry, chaired many a committee, been on boards of not for profits and I am currently the Secretary of the PTO. I have planned Science Fairs, Easter Egg Hunts and Family Picnics. I have hosted ChristmaHanaRamaKwanza shindigs, and Not So Scary Halloween Parties. I have directed plays and conducted musical groups.  I understand that not everyone is cut out for this type of work.  I am happy to take on the role. What frustrates me the most is the "helpful" comments and "constructive" criticism from the arm chair quarterbacks that feel that it is their right to do post game analysis when they had zero role in the planning and execution of the event.  If you aren't going to contribute, then don't criticize.  At every event, I have my own running list of what could have gone better, what went well, and what could be changed for next time.  I don't need anyone to point it out to me after the fact.  It is really not at all helpful, and will cause me to mutter curse words under my breath.  

All of the below have been actual comments made to me over the years. As a public service I will share them in hopes of making the world a little better for all of the harried volunteers our there.  

1. "Why don't you hold a bake sale, car wash, or pancake breakfast?" 

Um we do.  Every year, several in fact. We fund raise in many different ways, continually.   We carefully chose the events we did based on our talents and interests, and what we thought would give us the greatest amount of return for our time. If you would like to plan an additional fundraiser that you would plan and execute, feel free to do so.  

2.  "My other group had a wonderful consignment sale, hosted a conference, put on a full scale production of Into the Woods."

That's great.  Again, would you like to chair it? I have already bit off more than I can chew. Adding another huge event would likely send me over the edge.  

3. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if our Pastor/President/Principal would MC, get in the dunk tank, or play Dumbledore at Harry Potter night."

You know, I had the same thought in my initial vision. Unfortunately our Pastor had an unexpected funeral, our principal had a District wide board meeting, and our President's kids got sick at the last minute.  These people tend to go above and beyond in their jobs. It is wonderful if they can give more time, but if they can't it is okay for them not to. 

4. "I didn't hear anything about the event. You should do more publicity"

We have meetings, we have a website, we have a Facebook page, we have a newsletter. Emails were sent. Flyers were posted.  There is a giant banner outside of the school advertising the event. We sent a note home with your kid as well. While I can understand a physical note may not have gotten to your hands, there are other means of getting the information. Please use them before criticizing us for not getting the word out.  

5. "I know I forgot to RSVP but can I possibly sneak in at the 11th hour?"

If the people planning an event request an RSVP, they do so for a reason. It is nice to know if we are having 14 or 40 or 400. Food has to be ordered, photocopies made, swag bags stuffed. When an Easter Egg Hunt is put on, be sure it is not the actual Easter Bunny hiding all of those eggs.  It is nice to know how many people to plan for.  On the flip side, it is good to know if there is no interest at all in our event so that we can cancel, and spare ourselves the pain of planning the event only to have no one come. Once we cancel though, no whining, as we gave you the opportunity to sign up.  

6.  "I was on my way out the door and I called/texted/emailed to ask you a question about the event, but you didn't answer."

So sorry I failed to answer your question in a timely manner.  I was running around like a chicken with my head cut off setting up said event. It is very unlikely that I will have a moment to check my email or hear my cell phone. 

7. "I know I volunteered to help, but I didn't realize that I would not be able to also watch my kids."

Oh really, you don't think a hot, crowded kitchen is a good place for kids to be. Because I don't have 3 of my own, including a set of twins that are way younger than yours. Meanwhile I now have my husband scooping ice cream to replace you and I'm hoping my 14 year old neighbor is actually watching my kids like I begged her to. 

8.  "How come we changed venues/vendors?" or "How come we use the same vendors every year?"

There are a lot of considerations that go into event planning.  Was the date available? Does the venue require insurance that we don't have? Does the park have public bathrooms and/or a pavilion in case of rain? Does the bouncy guy have a law suit pending? Was the clown we used last year arrested for selling marijuana? Or maybe we use the same place over and over because they give us a deal. Or maybe the known is more comfortable for the person actually doing all of the work. 

9.  "It seemed like you could have used more help." or "Why weren't they passing out programs at all of the entrances, not just in the rear?" or "Why did you have to close some of the tables?" or "Why were there 12 year olds running things?"

It may seem like we were short staffed, because we were, which is why I spent the last 3 months of my life begging for volunteers. 

10. "I know you took a poll/vote, in which I did not participate, but now that you made plans based on the majority, I am going to crap all over what was decided."

I often ask people for feedback. I have done Facebook polls or used Survey Monkey. Which night of the week works best?  What time can everyone be here? Which restaurant should we hold our Mom's Night Out at? I want to be successful, and therefore attempt to do what the majority wants.  Not voting, and then telling me 6pm is too early, or that the restaurant that had the most votes once gave you food poisoning is not at all helpful.