I’ve never been really good about taking safety precautions when traveling.  As far as I’m concerned, a semi-recent oil change and a full tank of gas are more than enough preparation.

And although disaster hasn’t befallen me in years (knock wood), I’ve been risking it for far too long.

Snow comes quickly here in Colorado.  It may look merely cloudy when you head out to the grocery store, but by the time you emerge, your car - and the roads - may be covered in the white stuff.  Considering that I’ve seen cars skid onto sidewalks mere blocks from my home, I can’t truthfully say, “Well, that will never happen to ME.”

With kids in the car, it becomes even more important to be prepared.  Sure, it’s great to have a cell phone handy so that I can call my husband to request assistance, but if the roads are that bad, it’s going to take a while for him - or a tow truck - to get there.  I need a way to make sure that our temporarily disabled car is visible to others, so that they don’t skid into US.

So I’ve got Autolite Flareglo lights stashed in the console of each car.  They’re battery-operated LED flares - meaning that they last much longer than traditional flares (try 12 hours instead of just 15 minutes), much more visible (500 feet away - plenty of warning for other vehicles), and much safer.  Even if the kids take them out to play now and then, they’re still going to be ready to go and where I need them - if and when I need them.  Also, because they’re battery-operated, they’re reusable.  I really ought to stash a pack of AAA batteries with them too.

And since my husband drives quite a bit for work - sometimes up to 100 miles in a day - it’s important for him to be safe too, especially since I can’t head out to rescue him if he’s 50 miles away.  Better to have one of these inexpensive insurance policies in the console than to become a sitting duck on the shoulder of a mountain downgrade.

Whether you’re driving to the grocery store or across country, don’t take unnecessary chances.  Get your own Autolite Flareglo lights, an extra package of batteries, and be prepared.

I have to admit up front that I feel like a bit of a fraud, reviewing a book called How to Eat Like a Hot Chick, when I am two weeks away from giving birth and thirty forty forty-five pounds heavier than usual. Sure, a guy with a fetish for pregnant women may think I’m a Hot Chick even in this state, but I’m certainly not feeling like one.

However, that’s no excuse for not starting to incorporate some positive thinking and good habits into my life. I may still be treating myself to a dish of ice cream before bed (a Hot Chick no-no), but if I have a spinach-and-hummus sandwich (a Hot Chick specialty) at lunch, I don’t feel nearly so gluttonous while enjoying my dessert later.

Written by Jodi Lipper and Cerina Vincent, this book is not about self-denial; on the contrary, it’s about knowing thyself and loving thyself enough to make fair and balanced decisions about what we put into our bodies - be it chocolate cake, spinach, or a cocktail or two. It’s not a diet book, although there’s some basic information about caloric requirements of women (hint: we need a lot less than we’re consuming). While there’s a lot of common sense guidance that we should already know - and probably do, but don’t practice it as we should - there’s also a lot of surprises that also make sense once you think about them.

For example, I’d acquired a taste for seltzer prior to this pregnancy. I drank more Canada Dry Cranberry Limelight seltzer in one day that I care to admit. Then, in my first trimester, seltzer no longer appealed (I think it was the carbonation), and I switched to Vitamin Water.

Per the Hot Chicks, seltzer = good. Vitamin Water = bad. Mostly due to the calories in Vitamin Water, and the fact that you can get those same vitamins by eating actual food that fills you up.

I was also happy to read that the Hot Chicks do not advocate frozen meals. I think frozen meals are terribly depressing, even when I used to eat them for lunch at work (instead of spending $10+ for lunch in midtown), and the meat in them is downright gross.

But the cocktail lover in me was most enamored with the chapter entitled How to Party Like a Hot Chick. If you didn’t already know that mixers - tonic, juice, all the additions that make those colorful drinkies so delicious - are packed with calories, let me burst your bubble right now. Would you rather have ONE mudslide, or a whole slab of chocolate mousse cake? I love my drinks, but I’d go for the cake in a second and have a glass of wine with it.

The book is written in a conversational tone, with a lot of inside references and acronyms that are defined at the beginning (LSE = Low Self Esteem, OWL = Overwhelmed With Life). At the risk of sounding like an old fuddy-duddy, the authors are a bit too free with the f-bombs. It’s a fuckton of this and a fuckload of that, and a lot of eating fucked up food, especially when hungover or feeling Mary Kate (another inside reference). I drop my share of f-bombs in conversation, but in writing, I think they’re most effective when used sparingly.

But I’m sure I’d have a fuckload of fun if I went out for dinner and drinks with Jodi and Cerina. And I’d feel like a Hot Chick, even at 37 weeks pregnant.

Buy your own copy of How to Eat Like a Hot Chick!