My five year old son is writing his very first letter to Santa on a notepad he got from the nice folks at Adirondack Trust at last year's Rotary Home show. He worked The Saratogian's booth with me and was a big hit as our official "newspaper hander-outer".

His eyes light up as he considers the important task at hand. With his toungue out (he does this when he's concentrating really hard) he picks up his pencil and asks "What do I write first, mom?" I tell him it's completely up to him so he gets right to work with my husband and I there only to help him spell his words and wishes. He doesn't ask for world peace but takes great care writing each item and wants to be sure he uses "good manners". When he's finished, he puts it in an envelope, licks it shut and writes 'Santa' on the front. The look on his face is priceless.

Of all the things I'm thankful for, watching him grow and change and become this little person that's uniquely him is my absolute favorite.

Happy Holidays!

Dear Santa,

Merry Christmas to you. I've been very good. Please bring me:

1. Suitcase (like Dad's)
2. Electric Pencil Sharpener
3. Cool Sneakers
4. Erasers
5. Skeleton
6. Notebook
7. Map

Thank you very much,
K

Note: For a sampling of adorable letters to Santa, click here

"I'm not going overboard this year," I told my fellow mom friends during girls' night out on Friday night. We were talking about Easter and how we were going to fit playing Easter Bunny into our already packed schedules. As working moms, as excited as we are to make our children's holidays special, it can be a challenge to pull off the planning.

When Monday came, I headed out to round up my son's Easter basket loot during lunchtime. It was a nice, sunny day, so I decided to enjoy a much-needed stroll on Broadway in downtown Saratoga. When you're the advertising director at a local newspaper, you not only shop local — you shop with local advertisers. It falls under the "do the right thing" category.

So, what did I do once I entered the inner sanctum of our beloved local toy store? I went completely overboard, of course!

My rationale? My son's not going to believe in the Easter Bunny forever. Plus, I figure I owe my son for hanging the bunny over his head for weeks on end to control his behavior. It's also eight more months until the big guy with the red suit and beard arrives on the scene.

There was no mistaking what my son wanted the Easter Bunny to bring him this year. I purchased it from our local toy store, G. Willikers, the Smart Lab 'You Explore it Human Body'. My son is obsessed with anatomy and has been for some time. We have hardcover anatomy coffee table books, anatomy coloring books and the Dimensional Man anatomical 3D chart in our living room. You get the picture...

I picked up the anatomy set and then roamed around store. "Just a quick look before I leave," I thought. Um, yeah. I added a carnivore dinosaur, a super size magnet, wind-up deep sea diver bath toy, magnetic monkey acrobat game, three toy ladybugs, and a wooden butterfly net. Thank goodness for the 10% discount I receive for being a member of the local downtown business association!

It's r-e-a-l-l-y hard not to spoil your kids. As a working mom, seeing your child after a long day is a beautiful thing. I cherish every moment I spend with my boy (even when he's being bold, which is more often than I'd like to admit). We do spoil him with love and affection, hugs and kisses. In return, we demand good manners and that he keep his listening ears in the "on" position. That said, our days are filled with teachable moments. Not just for him, but for us as parents. Parenting and childhood evolve moment to moment. My hope is that Easter morning will be one to remember.

A day in the life of living with an (almost) five year old:

My son: "If the principal calls, don't pick up. Don't do it, mom." Me: What? My son: "I'm talking about when I'm in Kindergarten."

While busily discussing world news and preparing to leave for work, my husband and I failed to notice that our son was eating ice cream out of the container on our couch. When discovered, he smiled and said he saw it on Oswald and just wasn't in the mood for the waffle I made him.

I asked my son to go brush his teeth and he responded "you got it, girl!"

It's pretty obvious I'm not Mother of the Year, but I sure do enjoy being a mom.

This month, I took a little vacation from blogging. As a quintessential extrovert, I'm almost always in the middle of whatever is happening - at work and at home. Yet when the holidays roll around each year and coincide with quarter end and year end at work, my external focus takes a sharp turn inward. In short, it's just a bit too much to handle. In order to pull off hitting revenue expectations at work, being certain my team takes all their (well deserved) vacation time, being Santa for my four year old, gift giving for friends and relatives, and preparing food for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, my ability to do anything "extra" is nil.

In fact, with six birthdays in late December and early January in addition to Christmas, I get downright overwhelmed and a tad cranky.

The only way I was going to be able to blog during late December was to full-on vent about the multitude of things I had to do. I'm sure you're happily nodding that I spared you the interaction. Frankly, no one wants to hear anyone else complain - especially with Christmas music playing in the background! Sure, some people are super good listeners and kind-hearted friends, but there's a limit to what a person should have to bear.

Most moms, working of otherwise, agree that this time of year is hectic. Sure it's a joyful time of year, but it's like a race to the finish as the final days before Christmas tick away...

The holidays are now over and I'm focusing on the promise of a brand new year ahead. As I draft my annual list of action items, goals and dreams for the future, I plan to reset my expectations in key areas. A little harder on myself in the "me" category: working out, healthy eating, etc. and a little easier on myself in the "you can do it all" category. Seriously, we're not "supermomwomenemployeewives", right? There's only one of me and as someone who had a couple health scares this year, I know I can't do any of it if I'm not well. Thankfully, a warning was all I needed to get back on track and not let myself forget about, well, me.

Here's to a new year that has all the "good stuff": peace, joy, love, health and prosperity. Cheers!

I just finished watching the movie Up In The Air with George Clooney and Vera Farmiga as two road warriors who meet on-the-road and become romantically involved. The story line has a lot more to it, but you'll have to watch it yourself to get the gist. I liked the film a lot, for the record.

In the movie, George Clooney's character, Ryan Bingham, is acknowledged mid-air as a "million mile flyer" and the youngest of seven people ever to receive the award and priveleges that go with it. I know I never came close to logging that many miles when I traveled for business, but at one point I was "up in the air" for about two weeks each month. As a mom of a then 2 1/2 year old, I found that I just couldn't keep up the pace and ultimately chose a local media position here at The Saratogian offering more time with my family over the national custom media gig. Motherhood and parenting: it's all about personal choices.

I have to admit that I do miss the travel a little bit. I'm one of those rare individuals who loves airports and happily embraces air travel along with the sea of endless people that comes along with it. I'm an extrovert and feel at home in just about any city or country. On my very last trip to Chicago (the home base of Vera Farmiga's character, Alex, in the movie), I was bumped up to first class both ways. The first leg I was given a first class seat due to the fact that the airline double booked my coach class seat. On the way home I credit my crafty salesmanship for the upgrade. I made friends with the counter clerk and after talking for some time asked if she could possibly upgrade my seat. Sales 101: you don't get what you don't ask for. For the record, flying first class is definitley the way you want to end (for now, at least) your life as a road warrior.

You learn things about yourself on the road. I realized that I have a love/hate relationship with Chicago's O'Hare Airport. Of all the times I've experienced delays, flight cancellations and hassles in general I've been stuck at O'Hare. That's the 'hate' part of the relationship. What I love about O'Hare is that there are at a minimum FOUR Starbucks stores in the airport. It doesn't matter which terminal I was in, Starbucks was always right there with me. Starbucks for me is a travel equalizer. No matter what's happening or where I'm going or why I'm stuck, I can always count on a grande non-fat, no-whip, two pump mocha to settle me down or keep me going, whichever is needed. Depending on my mood, they'll also happily make it hot or iced. With all that can and does go wrong on a business trip, Starbucks always showed me the love.

One time during a layover in Chicago, a colleague and I watch in amazement and then disgust as a flight attendant in a full on flop sweat dripped all over the Starbuck's condiment counter for what seemed like twenty minutes straight. Thankfully we'd already had our coffee. Another time, our team got stuck in Chicago overnight after attending quarterly meetings at our Phoenix office. After a failed attempt to get us all out that evening, our VP of client services managed the next best thing and returned with fresh boarding passes that promised the first flight out the next morning - or so we thought. We were thrilled and relieved until we realized one-by-one that the boarding passes read 9:00 PM instead of AM. After one of us nearly cried (she was pregnant after all) and another laughed nervously, we eventually got it all sorted out. A night at the Hilton, flight out on yet another airline in the morning and a town car ride from NYC back to Saratoga and we were home in time for dinner - albeit a day late.

These days my travel is thankfully limited to the occasional visit to our corporate headquarters in Yardley, PA or a car ride up or down the Northway to see prospects and clients with sales reps. I've come to realize that although I miss the fancy dinners and freshly sheeted hotel rooms, the most important miles logged are those spent running in the backyard with our son.

No, I didn't and no, I wouldn't. However, after a night like last night - I could have.

I've never been a great sleeper. So I can't really blame it on my child not being a good sleeper. Which he's not.

When I hear mothers (or fathers for that matter) talk about their child sleeping through the night at six days, six weeks, six months or SIX YEARS, I want to scream. My son has slept through the night less than a dozen times since his birth.

Last night it took FOREVER to get him to GO to sleep. One last book, one more video, another sip of water, then "I need to pee", "I need my snake", "I want the light on", and so on. As the numbers on the digital clock turned from 8:59 to 9:00 PM, I could (finally) hear the gentle snore of my son's slumber.

Then, at 11:00 o'clock he got into bed with us. At 1:20 he got up to pee and drink some more water. The poor little guy has a head cold and as we all know, it doesn't make for a very restful sleep - whatever your age. At 2:45 he kicked my head so hard it woke me up. Then my back. Then my husband's back. How many legs does this kid have?

I finally fell back asleep after weighing the pros and cons of buying a MUCH bigger bed...

I'm a morning person and always have been. It takes nothing for me to pop up at 5:00 in the morning to greet the day. This morning, however, when the alarm went off at 5:30 I noticed something. I was c-r-a-n-k-y! I showered and went downstairs heading straight for the coffee pot that I was so grateful I'd set up the night before. I NEED COFFEE, I thought. An hour, a few chores and two cups of Joe later I went upstairs. My husband was in the shower and my boy was just waking up.

"Mom, Cousin Vincent is coming to visit this week. Right?" "That's right", I yawned. "I'd like to bring my Tardis (we're fans of Doctor Who) to school today", followed by "I'd like some peanut butter on a granola bar for breakfast" and then "for my birthday this year I'd like to go fishing" and "please don't put your work clothes on cause I want you to stay in your comfy clothes".

My son's NOT a good sleeper and he IS a morning person. It took only a few seconds for the realization to set in: I was on the wrong side of the saying "the apple doesn't fall very far from the tree".

On a recent school day morning, my son and I were enjoying coffee (mine), orange juice (his) and a granola bar (also his) while watching Ni Hao Kai-Lan on television. It's one of our morning rituals when we have time to spare which, as you can imagine, is not often.

A few minutes into the program, I noticed he was searching for something. Adding to the puzzled look on his face, he announced that his granola bar had, as he puts it, "gone missing."

We got up and moved the pillows and cushions around. Nothing. "Why don't you check under the couch"?, I asked. As he bent down to look, I burst out laughing. The granola bar (whole) was stuck to his back.

Laughing like hyenas, we fell on the floor. After finally making it back to the couch, he turned to me with a smile and handed me half of his granola bar. We sat side-by-side eating our respective halves, interupted only by the occassional giggle.

Silly moments like these are precious to me, especially when life gets busy (always) and my mind is racing with work-filled details. Being present in the moment is a wonderful place to be - and FREE - as well as being totally underrated in a world filled with Blackberrys, iPhones (and yes, I have both), Twitter and Facebook. Although I don't think I'll find another granola bar stuck to my son's PJs, I will welcome the reminder to savor the moments that I know will soon be fleeting memories.

On most days, I drop my son off at his pre-school/daycare. It's a ritual I treasure most of the time and on good days filled with hugs, kisses and waves, my day is off to a great start.

Nearly every week there is at least one instance (usually more) of what I call "drop off drama". Yesterday my son insisted that he bring his sand dollar to school with him (he calls it a starfish fossil).

"Home toys" aren't allowed at his school. Neither is candy. I know by careful observation, mom confessions and my own personal experience that there are times when you must pick your battles. Case in point, my husband travels internationally and on one occasion in an effort to get to the office by 8:00 AM for our weekly department head meeting, I gave my son a lollipop as a bribe to get him in the car. So sue me. As for yesterday, the starfish fossil was coming to school.

I packed the car with my son's backpack, my bag and purse, as my husband strapped our son into his car seat. We arrived at school and after coaxing him inside (it was a glorious morning), we walked to his classroom where I unloaded his backpack, set a place for him at the table with fresh fruit, cereal and water, folded his extra clothes in his cubby and put his sheet and blanket for nap time in the bin. He sat down without a fuss to eat, gave me a kiss and a hug, and waved goodbye. I smiled, told him I loved him and headed for the door. "One more kiss and a hug, mama", he said. I couldn't argue with that!

As I headed for the door, I heard "Where is my starfish fossil?" I honestly had no idea, but checked his backpack just in case. "You didn't bring it with you, sweetie", I said. "Yes I did, go home and get it!", he shouted. Tears ensued.

After several minutes of extra hugs, some bargaining (we'd play on his playground after school), and a few deep breaths, I was able to leave. I checked the rear view while backing out of the parking lot and noticed a small sand dollar on the seat next to my son's car seat. He did bring the fossil with him! I drove to work feeling a twinge of mommy guilt.

When I arrived home last night, my son and husband were in the driveway waiting for me. I got out of the car and told my little guy that I had a surprise for him in the back seat. We opened the door and he yelled "my starfish fossil!". All smiles (both of us), we headed out back to play.

With only one day earmarked for our recent visit to the Magic Kingdom, we were determined to make it count. My husband drove to the park from our hotel and secured a decent spot in the 'Pluto' lot. Next, we hopped on the trolley head-to-toe in rain gear regalia ready to feel the magic of Disney. Hoping to arrive at the Castle gates without delay, we were disappointed when we pulled up to another parking lot where we'd need to wait for the monorail that would (eventually) take us to Mickey. Thankfully, riding the monorail was a HUGE hit with our boy!

The first sight of the castle gave me chills (and not because it was cold and rainy). My son - amazed! - looked at the gate with wide eyes and then back at my husband and me to make sure we saw it too. The magic IS real.

Having pals who have been to Disney on numerous occasions, we took their advice and went straight to Mickey's house for a photo with the main mouse. We noticed right away that the smart folks at Disney have a knack for hiding lines and distracting both children and parents.

At last it was our turn! Suddenly, my son wanted nothing to do with Mickey. Seriously?! After some coaxing (we waited in the line for nearly 40 minutes after all!), he agreed to step up as long as I held his hand. Mickey shook his hand and Minnie kissed him on the head. He liked Minnie a LOT (that's my boy).

From Main Street, U.S.A. to Adventureland to Frontierland then Liberty Square, Fantasyland, Mickey's Toontown and Tomorrowland - a great find for a boy obsessed with space travel, there's a lot to do and see at the Magic Kingdom.

We really liked the family-oriented rides and activities that we could all enjoy. We hiked the Swiss Family Tree House, hopped aboard a seriously cool space ship on Buzz Lightyear's Space Ranger Spin ride, sailed on Donald's Boat complete with waterworks and survived the jokes told by our Jungle Cruise captain. Princesses were on the periphery and Pirates of the Caribbean took center stage for our four year old pirate. His Disney souvenirs? A "pointy sword", monogrammed leather pirate bracelet, and Captain Jack spy scope.

Feel the magic and plan your own Disney family adventure by visiting http://disneyworld.disney.go.com/parks/magic-kingdom/

I'm not great at taking vacations. Just ask anyone who's ever lived or worked with me. In fact, I haven't taken an entire work week off since 2005 when my husband and I went to Isle of Palms, South Carolina pre-baby. I'm not one of those people who can leave work AT work. I answer calls, trade emails and hop on conference calls. Coming back to an unmanageable workload post-vacation creates more stress than checking off a few things while I'm actually on vacation. It's just the way I'm hard-wired.

In 2006, our son Kenneth was born which meant my vacation was coupled with maternity leave to maximize time spent bonding with my newborn. In 2007, my vacation was a piecemeal of time taken off for ear and sinus infections and stomach bugs - his and mine. My 2008 "staycation" meant entertaining friends visiting from Ireland interupted by a mid-week business pitch and dinner with a visiting client. Last year, I tagged along on my husband Scott's business trip to Japan and left my son for the first time for five days (a BIG step for any mom, working or otherwise). I travelled 30 hours each way for three nights and two picture-perfect Fall days in Kyoto.

Today marks my first day back to work from our first official family vacation to Florida. The first two days in Fort Myers at Grammy and Grampy's villa was spent digging for shells on the beach and splashing in the pool. From there we travelled to Orlando for two additional days. We arrived at SeaWorld, paid the piper to the tune of $275 for two adults and one child, and waited for the much anticipated awe everyone said my son would experience. After 15 minutes, my husband leaned over and said "we're down 300 bucks and we haven't seen a fish yet". I had to laugh. So, we headed to the main attraction: ORCA! With video camera in hand, I zoomed in to watch my son's reaction to killer whales diving and splashing. Smiles, yes. Awe, no. Then I saw my son whisper something in my husband's ear. I imagined he said "Dad, this is the best thing ever!". After the show, I asked my husband what the whispers were all about. My husband replied, Kenneth said "Can we please leave and go get some candy?" At this point, I stopped waiting for the awe and started laughing and smiling at my son's fascination with the little things. The turtle had a hole in his shell. The Flamingos stand on one leg when they sleep. Penguins swim pretty fast. Sharks are definitely scary. Oh, and candy tastes better at SeaWorld!

Nearly four years ago my friend and colleague Betsy and I were having lunch (or was it coffee?) on Broadway in Saratoga talking about starting a blog for working moms like ourselves. Why? Because inevitably we'd start out day sharing drop off stories or post weekend stories of the never-ending struggle (or, was that joy?) of balancing a career in media with having a family. Whether it was forgetting something at home and having to go back to get it and still make it to the early morning meeting on time or having to rush out mid-day to replenish diapers or extra clothes or mittens or a permission slip, Betsy and I could not quite escape - not that we wanted to - the dance called 'working motherhood'. We figured that if we needed to talk about all this stuff, maybe other working moms did too.

I always say that if I ever meet the woman who coined the phrase "you can have it all" I'll slap her. Or, at least imagine slapping her. Seriously, each and every day you come up short somewhere. It's not possible to give 100% to two different priorities. On the mom side or on the work side, we never get it perfect. Did I mention we're both 'type 'A' controlling perfectionist over- achievers' who try really hard to get it right every day even though we're smart enough to know that's not possible? Does that explain the drive and then dissatisfaction when we have to leave work earlier than we should or come in on the weekends when we really want to be hiking or swimming with the kids?

Betsy and I both love our jobs and our kids (I only have one). Oh, and we have husbands. Yes, wonderful supportive husbands. Seriously, how on earth could we do it otherwise? And, our bosses are pretty great, too.

This is the beginning of the two of us "Media Moms" sharing our working mom moments with our coworkers, friends, other parents, our community and you. We hope it's worth the read.

And, don't give us a hard time about the blog taking four years to start. We're working moms, after all.