Random Thoughts on Recent World Events

I normally keep quiet about world events. But I’m starting to reach my boiling point. With every news story, we become more divided. Whether it’s black lives matter, blue lives matter, an alligator attack at Disney, a kid falling into a gorilla pit at a zoo, or the Orlando shooting, we choose a side and fight with strangers on the internet because they don’t agree with us. And my plea is…stop wasting your time. Don’t stop having opinions. But please don’t let your opinions keep dividing us as people. The next time an awful story in the news occurs, shut down your device and do something. Like get up off your ass..and DO SOMETHING. Replace your internet battles with real conversations, phone calls or letters. Contact organizations that you wouldn’t normally call and find out what you can do to help bring people together. Stop relying on your opinions, because fighting with people on Facebook, posting a meme to show everyone your stance, or changing the background of your profile picture doesn’t actually help the cause. It only shows what side of the story you’re on. And this is what needs to stop. We need to actually come together. And to come together, we need to better understand the needs of the people in our communities. We need to take action. So, I urge everyone who has an opinion to do something other than sharing your opinion. DO SOMETHING that will contribute to the changes you want to see in the world…whatever they may be.

Disney’s Keys to the Kingdom

When it comes to birthdays, I am more of an experience person who prefers a day of rock climbing over a new pair of shoes. I also detest surprise parties. So, when my husband asked me how I wished to be welcomed into forty-dom, I told him I wanted to spend time with a mouse.

In my eight years as a Florida resident, I’ve experienced Disney…a…lot.  Just so you understand the level of Disney Dork that runs through my blood, I once kept tally and found that we went to the parks thirty times…in just one year!

So, what better place to pretend I’m not 40 than Disney World? Only this time, I wanted a different experience. Enter Disney’s Keys to the Kingdom tour.

For $79 per person, Disney offers a five-hour Magic Kingdom tour that focuses on the keys to Disney’s success (safety, courtesy, show and efficiency), while giving us a closer look at how and why it all works.  Here are some of the pros and cons I found while on this tour.

PROS:

• Getting an early morning tour allows you to enter the park before it opens. Seeing the park without hordes of people is pretty great!

• Instead of having to plan my day around fast passes and reservations, this tour allowed me to relax (and we all know that relaxing in Disney is not common). All I had to do was follow my tour guide and enjoy.
• Because I had no worries (see above), I was able to pay attention to the minute details that were pointed out during the tour-like the windows on Main Street, the shutters in Liberty Square, the reason why all of the doors are always open, and the hidden Mickeys throughout the park.
• I learned some notable facts about Walt Disney, as well as the thought and meaning that went behind some of his decisions when creating The Magic Kingdom.
• The Utilidor (Disney's First Floor). I have to admit that it wasn’t what I expected.  In my head, it was a pristine white space with the smartest people in the world walking around in lab coats, designing the next Disney attraction.  But I found it was just employees going to and from work in this 1.3 mile labyrinth called the Utilidor.  Still, it was cool to see the costume/sewing area, the pin swap area, the locker area, some unique pictures of Walt, as well as some half-dressed characters hustling to work.
• On my tour, we rode the Jungle Cruise, the Haunted Mansion and got to see the Enchanted Tiki Room show (no, we didn’t have to wait in lines). Before going on each ride, our tour guide let us in on some of the history and fun factoids about each ride, which made it more intriguing.
• Lunch was included with the price, and for Disney pin collectors, you also receive a pretty awesome pin as a free tour gift.

• We toured the parade area, and based purely on luck, we even got to see some of the performers practicing for an upcoming show! The float drivers drive what’s called a Gizmo, and just like any other place of employment, you have to work your way up to be able to maneuver the big floats.  So, seeing someone practicing in the contraption that goes inside the floats, along with Tinkerbell and her fairy friends (not in full costume) was a pretty great experience!
• You have to be at least 16 years old to take the tour. So, for five hours, there are no screaming or cranky children to damper the mood of your day.

CONS:

• We weren’t told exactly where to go when we booked the tour. Though we arrived before the park opened, there were throngs of people already in line.  It probably would have been more helpful and less chaotic if there were better direction or maybe a marked sign for our tour. We eventually found the correct cast member (the one with the iPad on the left side of the entrance) and were able to enter the park.
• Florida is hot…and humid. Most of the tour is outside.  You have been warned.
• For me, I don’t view this as a con, but it might be for some people. This is a five-hour WALKING tour.  Be prepared to walk…a lot (in the aforementioned heat).

TIPS:

• You will learn some insider information while on the tour. However, I would suspect you could probably learn everything that was divulged to us by doing a simple Google search. It’s about the experience, people!  So, if you are looking for every secret that lies within Disney, I would suggest sending in your resume instead of taking this tour.
• A lot of the information given by your guide will depend on the questions asked while you are in the backstage area. So make those questions count!

If you want a leisurely day at Disney, where you get a chance to learn some interesting facts, see parts of Disney that most people aren’t privy to, and walk away with an even greater appreciation of every detail that goes into planning and executing the dreams of Walt Disney and the Imagineers, then I would highly recommend taking this tour.

And in case you were wondering, I have now officially changed my amateur title of Disney Dork to the more accomplished title of Disney Connoisseur.

Glassesshop.com

Living in the relaxing, low maintenance “Sunshine State” has drastically reduced my need for “stuff”.  However, there are some Floridian essentials, such as a favorite pair of flip-flips, a great fitting bathing suit and the perfect pair of sunglasses.

Normally, I am the type of person who can spend up to an hour in a store trying on numerous pairs of glasses before making a purchase.  Are they the right fit, the right shape, the right weight?  And most importantly, do they make me feel like a rock star?

I currently have an awesome pair of black Prada’s that I love.  But I was looking for a neutral, lighter pair of shades for the summer. So, I decided to try shopping for my new pair of glasses online. Admittedly, I was skeptical about making a purchase without being able to see them on my face in person. Enter GlassesShop.

GlassesShop.com offers an impressive selection of frames with both prescription and non-prescription lenses.  To make the selection easier, I was able to narrow down my search by choosing the color, prescription type and price.

After finding the perfect pair of glasses, I was able to virtually try them on, which was my favorite part of the GlassesShop web site.  Snapping a quick picture with my webcam gave me a pretty good idea of what the glasses would look like on my face, and allayed my fear of being stuck with a pair of shades that I didn’t really like.

In addition, ordering was a cinch.  I simply picked out the frames (I chose Lena-Oval in tortoise), the lens type (distance, computer, reading, bi-focal, progressive, sunglasses), the tint (I chose the brown tint) and that was it.  For those of you who wear prescription sunglasses, there is an option to enter your prescription information before checkout.

Now, I get really excited when I know there is a package coming for me in the mail (yet another benefit of ordering glasses online). Who doesn’t, right?  So when I saw the glasses-shaped box in the mail, I couldn’t wait to tear it open! 

As I slipped my new specs onto my face, two words came to mind.  Rock. Star.

With the glasses on my face, I fell into a dreamlike state, enticing paparazzi with a smile while showing off my new shades.  I was mentally trying on all of my clothes, finding the perfect outfits to complement my new sunglasses. In other words, I was thrilled!

After spending some time in the hot Florida sun with my new glasses, I found that they are perfectly lightweight, but sturdy and well-fitting at the same time.  Who knew that spending half the time and half the money would result in such a great pair of glasses? 

And thanks to GlassesShop, my inner rock star is now always on display.

If you want to find your inner rock star, go check out glassesshop.com and use my discount code for 50% your purchase!

Code: GSHOT50

Thanks for reading! 

Disclaimer: I was provided with a free product in return for my honest review. All thoughts and opinions expressed here are my own and not influenced by the developing company or any of its affiliates.

The Un-Stepdad

No matter how many similarities all parents may have, the truth is that we are all unique in our own ways. How you do your family is probably a little different than how we do ours, and when you have a step-family, those differences only increase. 

I once explained my situation to a friend, and he was pretty vocal about his disagreement and thought a step-father should play a more prominent role in my kids’ lives. Though he made some valid points, I held fast to the idea that what works for my family doesn’t necessarily work for everyone else.

My children have a father, who is not my husband John. So prior to introducing my girls to the new man who would be in their lives, I had a long discussion with John about what I needed his role to be when it came to my children. I wasn’t looking for a helping hand, or a babysitter, or a father figure. I was looking for a man who was willing to take a back seat to my children’s father. We ultimately agreed that he could offer his friendship and some minimal guidance. But as for parenting? No thanks. I got this.

However, just last year (after a three year engagement), John and I finally tied the knot. Though our marriage certificate officially gave him the stepdad title, I didn’t want that piece of paper to change the relationship he had built with my girls. I didn’t even want the term “stepdad” to be used, as the word “dad” implies that John has some of the same powers as their father does. For some, the role of stepfather includes certain expectations like disciplining, attending events for the child, giving financial assistance, helping the kids with homework or teaching them to play a sport. While those expectations do exist for my ex-husband, they do not exist for John. And I didn’t ever want my girls to feel conflicted about where their loyalties should lie.

As you can imagine, the scenario I have created for John’s association with my daughters is probably not an easy adjustment for anyone. Asking the man, who coexists with your children, to limit his involvement and give up a certain amount of control over the children he has come to love is not ideal.  However, John’s agreement to be a part of this crazy domestic structure has given my children a third constant in their lives - the “un-step-dad”.

Having John in our lives provides my girls with a relationship that can be the hardest to create as a parent. He is able to tap into their friendship during the times when my ex-husband and I need to be parents.

John embodies his role as buddy by creating an environment where my girls can feel silly and curious and playful. Even when they are acting up, rather than yelling at them, I’ve overheard him whisper, “Hey girls, I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but if your mom sees what you’re up to, she’s probably not going to be happy.” And he leaves it at that. 

Because he is not the rule enforcer or the speech giver, he is a safe place for them. While he makes it known that his support is always with me, he also gives them an outlet to just be themselves. He doesn’t solely act like a friend-he actually is their friend. 

He is their cheerleader, their creative guru, their chess partner, their encyclopedia, their roughhousing champion. He is what lies beneath the layer of parenting that my ex-husband and I provide. He may be invisible to my girls as a parental figure, but the very reason this family succeeds is because of him- the un-step-dad. 

*This piece was published on The Good Men Project on June 17, 2016.

Summer at Camp Mom

Recently, my eleven year old daughter divulged her plans to attend college in Switzerland. Initially, the thought of this filled me with pride and excitement for her. Then, the mom in me roared her ugly head, reminding me that while I do a pretty decent job at mothering, I still have quite a way to go.

My best “mom” strength is my follow-through. For example, I once threatened to cancel a day in Disney due to a behavior issue. And guess what? I turned my car around mid-ride, and we sat home instead. Ever since “The Mickey Incident”, I’ve never had to repeat myself. Yeah…so I’m no joke.

BUT…when it comes to educating my daughters about what they will need to be productive members of society, I tend to sabotage my super human follow-through strength, and I get a bit lackadaisical. I think it’s partly because A) the more “grown up” tasks I show my kids, the more it makes me realize that the “I-need-my-mom” time with them is getting shorter, and B) it’s always easier and faster if I just complete these tasks myself.

So this summer, I have decided to bite the bullet and begin teaching them how to do some small daily chores on their own that will hopefully benefit them as adults. It’s time to say hello to autonomy.

I’m starting slowly…with a jar that I’ve labeled the “Things We Will Learn This Summer at Camp Mom”. It’s nothing fancier than a container I found at the dollar store with a “Camp Mom” clip art printout from a Google search taped to it. But inside is where the “fun” begins.

The Camp Mom Jar

I’ve individually folded up a number of responsibilities that I will be transferring to them this summer, and once per week, they will dig inside the container and choose their mission. There are some jobs that will be more challenging, like balancing a checkbook, or planting and caring for a fruit or vegetable in our yard. But there are others which they have inconsistently done before, like making their own breakfast and picking out their clothes for the day. Going forward, no more help from mom.

For all of you silently muttering that my kids should have been doing this stuff years ago, I know. And for those of you thinking I am a tyrant for expecting too much of my girls over the summer, think about it. Back in the 1800s, six-year-old kids used to hunt for their food, skin it, cook it, make their own butter, and do their own laundry in a wash basin. Okay, maybe I’ve watched too many Little House of the Prairie episodes, but you get my point.

Camp Mom Little House

I believe it’s okay to expect more from my kids. Oh…and by the way, we’re going to Ireland on a family vacation this summer, so I’m not oppressing them too much, right?

As they get older, I hope to keep this summer tradition and continue to teach my daughters tasks like how to change a light bulb, hang a picture frame, find a local bus route and take public transportation. I’m hoping I don’t forget anything too vital. But mostly, I hope that my super mom follow-through power will not fail me as I go through the hardest task of all – letting go.

*This piece was published on Reality Moms on June 5, 2016.

Life Without Karma (Or Why the Notion of Karma Is Pure BS)

What do Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and Karma all have in common?  (No, this is not a riddle.  Just shout it out when you know the answer.) That’s right, folks.  They don’t exist. 

However, Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny have pleasant physical forms that usually bring smiles to the faces of children who believe. On the other hand, the personification of Karma, well…that’s a mystery to me. But I’ve heard she’s a bitch.

Thanks to The Karate Kid, I totally understand the idea behind the “what-goes-around-comes-around” mentality.  I mean, Johnny totally deserved the hose in the bathroom treatment from Daniel, right? Of course, The Karate Kid got his ass kicked, but that’s not the point. The point is that he didn’t wait for Karma to show up at some undetermined time in the future to do his dirty work for him. He took matters into his own hands, and for that, Daniel has my respect.

In my opinion, Karma is nothing more than a scapegoat for unresolved issues. And that is why I can’t really relate to people who believe in Karma. They crave revenge, sometimes for years, but are waiting on a mystical being to perform the task for them?  I don’t get it.

Here’s something to ponder.  What if Karma never shows up?  What if she’s got her period or has a headache?  What if she quits because she’s tired of fighting your fights? If you truly cannot get over whatever situation caused a wrong in your life, do you really think waiting around for something bad to happen to whoever it is you’re pissed at is the way to go?  Will hearing a tragic story about someone who wronged you five years ago make you feel better?  And if the answer to that question is yes, what kind of person does that make you?

And what about poor Karma?  I’m pretty sure if I were her, I’d tell everyone to stop whining and get on with their lives.  Not to mention that if Karma really did exist, wouldn’t she be focusing on bigger problems like murder, espionage or cleaning up the environment?   And if she really had any time left over to start a personal war on assholes, wouldn’t she most likely skip your mundane requests and start with…oh, I don’t know…Kanye West?

Due to mutual dislike, there are people who are no longer a part of my life. And regardless of what kind of assholes we were to each other in the past, I hold no ill will towards them now. I don’t secretly wish that Karma attacks them with Alfred Hitchcock’s birds.  

You see, I don’t believe in Karma.  I just believe in life’s ups and downs. 

And no one lives a perfect life.

I’ve made mistakes.  I’ve fucked people over.  I’ve been an asshole when I could’ve chosen to be nice.  And yes, shitty things have happened to me that will make anyone who doesn’t like me very happy. But I’m certain that when crap lands in my lap, it’s not because Karma is doing my haters a favor. It’s simply because shit happens…to everyone…all of the time.  The difference between Karma believers and me is that I am not waiting for the storm to strike my opponents. 

Instead, I am living.

And I urge the Karma believers to join me. Not in two months, or five years after Karma has avenged the wrongs in your life, but now. The only way to truly live life is to stop hoping that this Karma bitch has your back.  Because she doesn’t. 

Karma doesn’t happen.  Life does. 

*This piece was published on Sammiches and Psych Meds on May 20, 2016.

Five Things I Wish People Wouldn't Do While I'm Running

As a runner, I am a sucker for articles on anything running related.  From marathon advice to shoe advice to injury advice, I never tire of the endless top 5 lists that appear in my newsfeed.  So if you are a runner, I’m sure the annoyances in my Top 5 “things-I-wish-people-wouldn’t-do-while-I’m running” list are recognizable to you. Enjoy!

• Don’t ignore stop signs. If you are driving and notice a stop sign accompanied by a pretty painted white line, my tip is to stop your car.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve almost been hit because drivers seem to have forgotten that rolling past the stop sign into the crosswalk can actually kill someone.  I get it.  We’re all getting old and may have overlooked this part of the driver’s education manual.  But seriously people, a stop sign is not a suggestion, so…STOP.
• Don’t stop a runner mid-run unless you are dying.  I once had a dude stop me to tell me about all of the medical ailments that his friend had due to running.  Recently, another guy stopped me to make a joke about running.  This doesn’t annoy me as much if my run is leisurely, but when a runner is in training mode and trying to maintain a certain pace, don’t be surprised if you get a punch in the nuts for making us stop and listen to your ridiculous banter.
• Don’t hog the sidewalk.  Whether you are taking your dog for a walk or simply out for a morning stroll, be mindful that there just might be other people like yourself who wouldn’t mind a sliver of the sidewalk.  Also keep in mind that some of these people might even be coming up behind you. So, when in doubt, move to your right side and share the pavement.
• Don’t honk your horn at me.  Look, I’m almost forty, so I’m not going to lie-I love when people think I’m hot.  I’m not usually one to complain about compliments, even in the form of a beeping car horn.  But for goodness sake, when I’m running, I’m usually in a zone, and honking your horn can quite literally scare the crap out of me or give me a heart attack.  So, while I appreciate the sentiment, a quiet wave or smile will do just fine, thanks.
•  Don’t run in the bike lanes.  Just to show that I’m not biased, this one goes out to the runners.  Having dabbled in cycling, the speed that I traveled while trying to “hold my line” scared me to death and eventually drew me back to running.  However, I can now empathize with cyclists, and realize that competing with a runner for twelve inches of space is not ideal.  Not to mention, if you are a runner in a bike lane, the only options cyclists have are to either swerve out into traffic while going upwards of 25 mph to avoid you, or to stay the course and pray that you move first.  Both scenarios suck, so please remember that bike lanes are for bicycles.

To be honest, until I became a runner, I was not considerate enough to make myself aware of my surroundings. But I’ve spent over ten years on my running journey, and I have no plans of stopping…unless, of course, I see a stop sign.

*This piece was published on Lose the Cape on May 20, 2016.

Lessons From a Protest

A few weeks ago, our family attended our first animal rights protest. While nothing beats standing outside for hours in the scorching Florida sun, attending a protest usually isn’t my first choice of things to do with my children on a Saturday afternoon. However, my older daughter has had a passion for animals since she could pronounce the word “dog”, so supporting a cause that was important to her felt like the right thing to do.

As we marched up to the park gates with our signs, the protesters immediately fell in love with my daughters, greeting them warmly and telling them how important it was to have support from the next generation. As the minutes ticked by, I was expecting a shouting, angry mob to lay down in front of the park, denying access to the entrance. But this didn’t happen. It was surprisingly peaceful, friendly and educational. The real shock came about twenty minutes later, when the drivers of the cars entering the park began demonstrations of their own, mostly incorporating their middle fingers, yelling obscenities out of their windows, and, in one case, spitting at a protester. Luckily, none of it was directed at my girls, but everyone else was fair game.

And this is where my confusion lies. 

I found some irony in the fact that while my daughters were able to protest without any vulgar interruptions, I was the target of some pretty interesting hand gestures, despite my lack of a “PETA” t-shirt. And I guess my question is – why are the hostile people of the world more offended by adults than they are of children, even if the message we are trying to convey is the same?

Not that I want my eleven and eight year old daughters to be attacked, but as a mom, I want to know when I should expect people to stop looking at my children as cute, good natured and passionate, and start looking at them as losers or scumbag activists with too much time on their hands. At what age willthey be the ones getting spit on? I mean, if I knew the answer to this question, I could at least try to be a good parent and provide them with a raincoat and goggles to save them from an asshole’s saliva, right?

My reality is that until they are old enough to drive, chauffeuring my girls to protests may be the norm. And despite the judgmental stares, and the loogies in my eye courtesy of the angry bird flippers, I will proudly stand next to them. I will ignore the ideas that my girls aren’t old enough or smart enough to form their own opinions, and I will silently hope that there is a mishap in the park that involves these idiots falling into a tank with the captive animals.

But the mom in me knows that my girls will eventually fall victim to these people, and I would love to be able to decipher the jerkoff code so that I can protect my girls from their impending invasion. But at the same time, I don’t want to be the one to stick a pin in their balloons. Because even though the protest reminded me that intolerance exists in our world, my daughters walked away with a completely different perspective. 

Despite the amount of spitting and cursing coming from the park goers, my girls were successful in getting a total of five cars to turn away from the park that day. The naysayers may have tried to silence them, but ultimately, the experience provided my daughters with the knowledge that the power of their voices mattered. And because my girls simply ignored the negativity, the mama bear in me is confident that, as adults, they will be able to identify and dismiss the assholes that they are certain to encounter while on their journeys. But before they leave me, I may sneak raincoats and goggles into their bags…just in case.

*This piece was published on BLUNTmoms on May 13, 2016.

My Invisible Crutch

As an only child, I always had a flair for independence.  Even so, accepting help as a kid seemed natural and uncomplicated. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, my comfort level in allowing others to lighten my load has drastically changed. As an adult, accomplishment and the joy that follows is important to me.  So when it comes to asking someone for help, I always think to myself, “If I have a problem that I am capable of fixing, then why would I involve anyone else?”

This question is my downfall, and the reason why I rarely take advantage of the support that surrounds me. 

If there were a Best Family in the World award, my family would win, hands down.  And I am not the only one who notices my tribe’s loveliness. At my wedding, one of my guests said, “When I get married, can I rent your family?”  After celebrating Christmas Eve with my family, a friend commented, “You guys are like the Puerto Rican Brady Bunch.”  

Although I formed a close bond with my cousins, aunts and uncles as a child, I didn’t truly value them until I was old enough to experience the families of friends, boyfriends and husbands.  I can now appreciate the friendship, loyalty and support that we have always selflessly offered to each other.  My family is like an internal whisper pulsating through my mind, confirming that our blood is our bond, and regardless of the circumstances in any given situation, we will be there for each other. 

I now live thousands of miles away from the bulk of my family.  The modernized support we offer has taken form via social media.  If I need advice, they are all a Facebook message away.  Being that writing is my preferred method of communication, this works out well for me…most of the time.

But when life gets harder than what the contents of a Facebook message could possibly provide, this is where I struggle.  Being a contemplative introvert, thinking and overthinking can feel like a full-time job sometimes.  I usually take to my laptop, write a blog, or I go “old-school” and write my thoughts down on paper.  If this method of internalization doesn’t settle me, that is usually when the uncomfortable, “oh-no-I’m-going-to-have-to-ask-someone-for-help” doom sets in.

Although I have a strong support system in my husband and my parents, I still find it hard to use what is available to me.  While expressing my opinion has never been difficult, vocalizing the need for anything that, in my mind, should only belong to me, has always been a challenge, regardless of the amount of support waiting in the wings.  My husband gets upset sometimes because I don’t allow him to do simple tasks like taking my girls to school if I don’t feel well or changing a light bulb.  So, you can probably guess that when there is something more serious sprinting through my mind, asking for any kind of assistance from him is a rarity.

Some people have used the word “strong” to describe me.  I’m not sure this is accurate, as there are times when I need more than what I can offer myself, yet I fear asking for it.  In times like these, I do not seek refuge in the amazing family structure I just described.  I, instead, choose to find support in a place where it is not readily offered, but there nonetheless. 

I find support in the gifts that are my daughters. Because they are eight and eleven, I don’t approach them and lay out my problems, hoping they will dissect them with me or give me their shoulders to cry on.  I don’t expect answers.

I find encouragement when my girls let me hug them a little longer, when they help me without my having to ask, when they randomly tell me they love me without me saying it first, when they sense something is off and include me in a game or a story or whatever it is they are doing, when they look at me and offer a simple, yet beautiful smile.  Although it may not fix everything that needs fixing, this is the type of support that I can readily accept.  Their unconditional love for me lets me focus on what is important, leaving whatever is left over easier to tackle. Whether they know it or not, they are the support system I treasure most.

Through my girls, I’ve learned that support doesn’t just come in the form of actions like helping with a task or lending someone money or giving a friend advice.  It doesn’t only come from people who are willing to give it.  For me, the support I’ve found most useful has come from the invisible crutch that my daughters unknowingly, yet lovingly provide.

Spring Cleaning and Streak Free Windows

It’s that time of year when hordes of women charge their way up the grocery store cleaning aisles with purpose and determination, in an attempt to create a seasonally sparkling home.  I’m not sure who came up with the idea that spring cleaning should be a thing, but here we are, buying into the hype.

Now, I’m no cleaning expert, but over the years, I have had some unfortunate reactions to products that just weren’t up to snuff, one of which included me screaming at a broken spray handle.   For whatever reason, most of my springtime frustrations come from window or mirror cleaning. 

Have you ever walked away from your clean bathroom mirror, only to come back and notice an enormous smudge?  Or after cleaning, have you ever looked at your glass from a different angle, only to find that there are streaks in the shape of the motion you used to clean the glass in the first place?  

Yeah…this is my life story.

Being that I’m almost forty, you would think I would have found a tried and true window product before now.  But up until about a month ago, this was not the case.  I tried everything from Windex to Method to Invisible Glass and just about everything in between, and was disappointed when none of the “streak free” products seemed to work on the glass in my home.  I started to think it had something to do with the way I was cleaning.  Have I been doing it wrong all of these years?

The answer is no, and I know this because I finally found Pella Glass and Window Cleaner.  After years of searching, discovering a glass cleaner that doesn’t allow me to waste four paper towels on one small mirror makes me want to burst out into song.  

In addition, I don’t have to scrub my glass so hard that the veins in my muscles start exploding.  I simply spray, swipe and move onto my next cleaning adventure without the fear of seeing a random smudge out of the corner of my eye.

Cleaning with the Pella product has made spring cleaning more tolerable and less time-consuming.  And I am proud to say that since the Pella Glass and Window cleaner has been a part of my cleaning routine, I have transferred my shouting matches with bottles to my aging steam mop.  

And so the quest begins…