Ever since I moved out of my bassinette and into my crib, a bunny has been keeping a watchful eye over me. He used to sit at the far end of my crib but as of late, he snuggles with me at nap time, keeps me company when I am sitting in the living room and has even been so ambitious as to go on car rides with me.

Recently, Mr. Floppy Ears let me in on a ?little secret?. His real name is Theodore Evan Bear or Ted E. Bear for short. I told him that it was a silly name for a bunny rabbit. Then he did the most amazing thing! He took off his hood to reveal that he was a bear disguised as a rabbit. I was flabbergasted!

At first, I wanted to know why he felt he needed to disguise himself. He began by telling me that recent studies showed that bunnies were 75% more likely to be adopted as stuffed animal friends over bears. It seems that children who have teddy bears for friends get mauled by bears 30% more then those who do not while children who have bunnies as friends have a 0.4% chance of getting mauled by a bunny. The most recent case of a bunny attack was not really that recent at all but recorded in 1974 by a Mr. Monty Python.

He went on to tell me that his cousin, Smokey T. was recently fined $5000 when a 4 year old ran to a grizzly bear in Vermont to ask for assistance in putting out a camp fire.

I couldn?t believe what I was hearing!

As Ted went on, I was all ears. He told me he is a member of a private organization funded by a certain bear building workshop that shall remain nameless. This workshop has been striving to renew children?s trust in teddy bears by allowing them to make their own bears. Thanks to their contributions and radical approach to this crisis, teddy bears are once again beating the stuffing out of the competition.

On hearing this, I gave him the biggest smile, grabbed him, stuck out my tongue and drooled on him. He is my best friend and also very absorbent. Without him, I don?t know what I would do. Thank you Mr. Floppy Ears for infiltrating the stuffed bunny uprising and informing the world of the atrocities ?recent studies? can cause.

On Friday, April 11th 2008, my father, Joseph Spinosa, passed away after a battle with an extremely aggressive esophageal cancer. His battle lasted just under two months.

As parents now, Matt and I often dream about the future with Zo?, and how we can’t wait to find out about the first time she gets in trouble, the first time she talks back, or, more importantly, the first time she breaks something. Because as anyone knows, that’s what dads are really for.

In our childhood days, my dad was the toy fixer-upper, but not your normal toy fixer-upper. Picture a toy fixer-upper in a cool, engineering, “dadgyver” sort of way. I’m still surprised he never walked around with a “no job too small” sign on him (for all we thought we saw it there anyway!).

Here’s a man who would do anything for his little girl. When I was probably about a pre-teen, my tape deck ate my mix tape. It would not play at all after that, and I could see the mangled bit of tape ribbon along the edge. Now for any of you that have tweens or teenagers, I’m sure you know, this is the END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT, and cause for total histrionics, ranting and raving about how those songs were IRREPLACEABLE, etc. Any normal dad would have said, “well, say goodbye” and would then have probably chucked it into the trash followed by a life’s lesson about how sometimes things just happen. Well, my dad the engineer sat down at the kitchen table with his glasses, a bright light, magnifying glass, small screwdriver, crazy glue, and exact-o knife. He then proceeded to open my tape and unwind the bad part. He carefully sliced out the mangled ribbon, and then used a pinprick amount of superglue to glue the two good pieces of ribbon back together again. He screwed the tape back together, and handed it to me. Total time lost of my IRREPLACEABLE music? About five seconds worth. I never forgot that. This would be only a small sampling of the histrionic-worthy broken toy duty my dad partook in on a day-to-day basis.

My dad was the reason I’ve known I wanted to be a computer programmer since I was about six or seven years old. Here’s a picture from one of our first computers: The Commodore PET. The really cool thing is, in the early decades long before the microchip, my father was helping create, build, shape and mold the computer industry that we know today. In fact, his true understanding went as deep as the old transistors, all the way up to the circuits, to the point where even this week, when I was at his computer with my mother, there was not a single file found that he created on that machine that was over eight characters or had spaces, it was so ingrained for him as a way of life as to why that would be important. That floored me, in that kind of special way that only true geeks and hacks will ever fully understand.

My dad is also the reason music is such an important part of me and my brother’s life. In fact, I have written about it a few times before. You can read a great story about how my father was the first classical guitarist in the prestigious US Army Band, ?Pershing’s Own’, playing alongside Steve Lawrence. When you’re done with that, here’s another great story about me surprising my dad by finding a recording he was on playing with Les Elgart on tour and dancing with him at my wedding.

So Matt, as a dad, even though you are well on your way, you’ve got some very big shoes to fill. As for me, I look forward to teaching Zo? the life’s lessons that my dad taught me. For example, he taught me how to drive, and I will instill in Zo? the same valuable nuggets of information he passed on to me that I have also never forgotten (and have always done):

1. Always buy good quality tires. Never, EVER buy cheap tires.
2. When cracks on the side of the road appear, be sure to move the wheels to avoid them, even if it means driving a little closer to the edge of the street. Even the slightest road cracks will chew up tires quickly and will make the ride uncomfortable for your passengers.
3. For best gas mileage and brake longevity, try to keep the gas pedal as constant and steady as possible on the highway.

When Zo? was born, my dad decided she’d love a train set. And not just any old train set. Back in the day, my dad was a train hobbyist, and what better reason to pick it back up again than to enjoy it with his granddaughter? I’m so fortunate to live only about a ten minutes drive from my parents, and feel so happy that Zo? was able to be a major part of dad’s life. Right now, the set currently sits on a huge table, complete with hand-weathered trains, three separate independent tracks, a masterfully rigged wiring system (engineer, remember?), and stereo train sounds. Now my dad, the technical writer, made sure to document his complex set-up by showing Matt complete instructions he had been keeping over time. He got to see Zo? enjoy them, I’m sure we’ll get to see her enjoy them even more in the years to come, and hopefully add to the landscape.

Goodbye, dad. We’ll miss you. We love you. I am the person I am now today because of you. You and my mother retired to one of the nicest seaside areas Rhode Island has to offer. You saw both your children grow up, settle, and you got to meet your beautiful granddaughter. Your son and daughter are carrying on your love of all things music (and the importance of a good stereo headset). Your son and daughter and also carrying on your love of all things technology (both futuristic gadgetry and old school systems). You are safe knowing your wife has an amazing support system on the street you both lived on together, and we are all overwhelmed at the outpouring of support we have all had. The world has lost an amazing man.

When will it be the most tough? Aside from now, It will be tough when I watch a great Netflix movie and can’t drive it over to him because I know he’ll love it. It will be tough when I get a cool gadget or technology and can’t share it with him. It will be tough when Zo? has more first moments that I won’t be able to share with him.

But I can always go back and read this to feel close again.

I’m a consultant, developer, administrator, and technology coach all rolled into one. I’ve spoken to mass-crowds, single individuals, and to a bunch of rowdy high-schoolers and third graders. I meet with decision makers, CEO’s, HR staff, residential users, IT administrators, grandmothers, small business owners, and any other end user in any given company on a regular basis.

They all have one thing in common: they are automatically on the defensive when they meet me.

Within the technology industry, there has always been one Great Universal Irony: Here’s an entire industry that exists and was created solely to make life easier for end users. However, when end users get frustrated by that very technology, they tend to get equally as frustrated with the only people that can help them.

Who remembers SNL’s “Nick Burns, Your Company’s Computer Guy”? When I visit small businesses, I am almost always referred to as “the computer girl”. Because I know how to use a computer, I also must know how to use the scanner, copier, and fax machine all-in-one, right? Not usually, especially when it’s a $15,000 behemoth called the “6000 SUX“*. However, this is where the similarities between me and Nick Burns stop. While Nick would condescendingly suggest calling the company that made the printer because he only fixes *computers*, I’ll be honest about it. “There’s probably not much I can do without proper training on this equipment, but I’ll certainly try. As my mechanic told me, try it yourself. If it gets ugly, stop!”

Not only have I established that I may not be able to help them because this requires more than casual skill, but I have now also placed myself alongside them ? I’ve made it clear that I don’t know how to use it any better than they do, though I can probably make more educated guesses. I also have explained my own woes, such as those with my mechanic. Who can’t relate to that? The defensiveness is gone, and now I’m approachable as someone to vent to about the printer without fear of a condescending response. All I need to do is remind myself that I am a user, too. All these people want is to get their stuff done. Period.

Last week I was subcontracted to do some Adobe Acrobat Professional basics training for a small business. Once the training was done, I wanted to go to one desk and watch them go through the same process I had just done on my computer, to make sure they would be all set on their own equipment. As it turns out, the client had the “Standard” version on their PC, not “Professional”, and could not do the one feature they had bought the software for. They were very irate, as they felt they had explained exactly what they wanted to do to the sales person, and had spent quite a bit of money on software licenses. Naturally, as I was there on behalf of the company, much of their irateness was directed at me.

Let the war story commence. I did know EXACTLY how they felt, because I go through this sort of thing myself. So why would I not tell them that? I’m not better than them just because I know how to use computers anymore than they are better than me because they can do their jobs. At the end of the day, we are all just human beings that deserve courtesy and respect from each other.

“I’m sorry you are frustrated. I know how hard it is to get muddled and overwhelmed when it comes to software you know nothing about. I own my own business and have to go through this, too. I know computers, now ask me what I know about running a business! Do you have any idea how many versions of Quickbooks there are? It’s enough to drive a woman mad!”

Instantly everything changed. Expressions softened. The supervisor and I exchanged knowing, understanding eye contact. “I’m sorry”, she said. “This is not your fault. You did an excellent job training.”

Once damage-control was underway, it was easy to get a solution at hand. We talked and made plans to follow up about getting the required software upgrade. Business cards were exchanged. We shook hands upon leaving and the client was happy, or at least as happy as they could be under the circumstances.

If you ever find yourself in the “defensive danger zone”, watch out for these signs of defensive body language that a war story from you is imminent and necessary:

• Person crosses arms or legs (this is an instinctual reaction to protect our physical vulnerabilities)
• Person retreats to their desk (they are subconsciously setting up a barrier between them and you)
• Person holds a folder or paper in front of them or close to them (again, this is a vulnerability barrier, like armor)
• Person physically leans away from you in some manner (this can be in any manner, such as leaning away from you in a chair, or if their feet are pointed away from you)
• Person presses lips together tightly

These are just a sampling of my arsenal from communication studies classes. The list goes on for all types of emotions, but we’re clearly talking about defensive language here. These skills have treated me well over the years. Learn to watch out for nonverbal body language signs. Not only is it a great skill, but it’s fun, too.

One of the most fun speaking engagements I ever did was as a guest speaker for the Freemasons. I was four months pregnant, and definitely showing, so at speaking engagements I always made it clear right away that I was pregnant ? I wanted them to pay attention to what I was saying, not trying to play guessing games during the entire lecture. Here’s a bunch of guys I’m talking to ? not exactly interested in hearing tales of woe about morning sickness. However, everyone has one thing in common with someone else. Find it, and you’ve got a means to relate and connect with them. I’m pregnant and in a room with a bunch of men dressed to the hilt in tuxedos? What on Earth do I have in common with these guys? Food.

“Normally I love doing engagements like these, but then Bob called and asked me if I’d like to come to this meeting early for dinner. As you can see, I’m four months pregnant, so I was like, “free food! Score!” laughs

Those guys were great. When I was introduced as the guest speaker over dinner, one of the masons said, “It’s about time they got some Goddess energy in here!”

Well it’s nice to know not everyone is on the defensive immediately.