TheMommyBlog

Wednesday, November 05, 2008 Family

This Target-sponsored Momversation gig has given us something we never thought we’d see once I left the cubicle farms: me, dressed, hair done, make up applied, caffeinated, and perky before ten a.m. It’s so easy to blog in your underwear and ponytail, but this is a whole other sack of potatoes when you have to look good on camera.

My kids yesterday: “Earrings!!” and “Mom, trust me, you look good. It’s really, really good.” That’s right, set that bar nice and low and see how easy it is to soar now and then.

Go me, go Momversation. Go see it - my first episode goes up Friday!

Tuesday, November 04, 2008 Our Holiday Curse, Bad Mood Dude, Family

I carefully shut down my brain at nine last night and went to sleep right after the kids were tucked in. I just didn’t want to think about putting Molly down this week after bringing her home as a puppy fifteen years ago.

Monday, November 03, 2008 Family, Fellow Parenting Authors

I Love You, But I Hate Your Politics!

You know who we’re talking about: the people who share your blood don’t always share your politics. Since tomorrow is Election Day, Heather Armstrong of dooce asks: What do you do when the people you love disagree with your political views?

This Episode’s panelists:

• Alice Bradley of Finslippy
• Daphne Brogdon of Cool Mom
• Heather Armstrong of dooce
• Rebecca Woolf of Girl’s Gone Child

There are any number of ways to keep up with Momversation episodes and forum buzz. You can subscribe to the Momversation episode feed or comment feed, or you can subscribe via iTunes. Sign up for the weekly newsletter, follow Momversation on Twitter, or become a fan on Facebook. I’ll also embed the episodes here as they come out.

We’re working with the great folks at deca.tv to produce the videos—they’re the folks behind Boing Boing TV among other Web video shows. Target is sponsoring this experiment (hence the ad in the video and the banners on the site), but has no input into the content or format. That’s up to us. And the result is turning out to be oh so much more than the sum of the parts.

Monday, November 03, 2008 Me, Me, Me, Fellow Parenting Authors

Momversation - see what all the blogging’s about!
On November 3, take a peek at the brand-new site, Momversation.com, and be among the first moms to see some of the web’s most recognizable and outspoken mom-bloggers in a new video show.

That’s right—y’all aren’t going to BELIEVE what I’ve been up to with seven other mom bloggers. We’ve been creating Momversation.

Momversation is a video show and website that brings together the web’s most outspoken mom-bloggers to discuss topics and share their thoughts. The format is unique because the cast of women aren’t in the same room together. Instead, all the material is shot by the panelists in their spare time in their own homes.

Because GOD KNOWS what would happen if we were all in the same room together. This is the only way to separate the voice tracks, I’m sure. But could you see us? (Heather’s family might pull a gun, for Pete’s sake. It’s a surprise, so don’t ask.)

The fun part (to watch, not have to figure out for yourself) is seeing where we have to go to film ourselves in our homes. It ain’t easy. Let’s just say that attempted locations include offices, bedrooms, kitchens, garages, bathrooms (this works), living rooms, and in one failed attempt, a hotel room across from a construction site. My bad.

Momversation is hosted by a rotating cast of 8 hot, mouthy, sage, and influential mom-bloggers including:

• Heather Armstrong of dooce
• Alice Bradley of Finslippy
• Daphne Brogdon of Cool Mom (Fun fact: I used to listen to her on Dr. Dean Edell’s show, and it cinched the choice of my daughter’s name!)
• Asha Dornfest of Parent Hacks
• Nataly Kogan of Work It, Mom!
• Maggie Mason of Mighty Girl
• Mindy Roberts of The Mommy Blog
• Rebecca Woolf of Girl’s Gone Child

Everyone can also “join the momversation” by posting comments and starting their own discussion topics in the Momversation forums.

Momversation videos will also be featured 3x a week on Yahoo! Shine in their Parenting section.

Oh, and don’t forget to sign up for the Momversation newsletter so you can see us having awkward moments talking to ourselves with a tiny camera and no script.

Sunday, November 02, 2008 Me, Me, Me

The F-Word Diet.

Friday, October 31, 2008 Family

The kids had their Halloween parade just now, and I think that’s about all I need to experience for Halloween. It’s going to be a looong night.

Logan’s a ball player with little sense of trajectory, Dylan is Mario (I made him that hat and a question cube - I’m now his favorite person in the universe) and Daphne is - you will not believe this - a snow princess.

Me? I’m tired.

Friday, October 31, 2008 Our Holiday Curse, Family

I’m heading over to my ex’s to help the kids get ready for school and do the school run. Then I’ll meet him at the vets for Molly’s bone biopsy. Suspected osteosarcoma, cancer in three out of four limbs, but can’t know for sure until Monday. We’ve had her fifteen years.

Thursday, October 30, 2008 Me, Me, Me, Bad Mood Dude, Family

Hi there, buddy. Long time.

Hey, I wonder if you wouldn’t mind doing us a favor? Could you not coincide with the first day of rainy season every freaking year? I don’t know what kind of deal you made with Old Man Weather, but it’s not winning either of you any popularity contests down here. Seriously, it’s bumming me out to put raincoats over my kids’ costumes and huddle under an umbrella while they splash through puddles going from house to house to house.

Not to mention the small lake that collects in the foyer from opening the door a frazillion times for kids who shake their dripping bags at you and hold them there, waiting to see if you might throw in an extra Snickers.

Also? It’s cold. I know it’s not as bad as Chicago—I remember all too well the chill and the roving gangs of egg-and-shaving-cream-wielding punks. We knew the snow was coming, but somehow it was easier to trick or treat in snow, you know? It didn’t soak through and stain your underwear Superman red, and actually looked kinda cool in the streetlights. Besides, in a city like that, you always had the option of doing all your trick or treating in a high rise. Yep, that was pure Halloween gold. My friend lived in a thirty-floor building, and we’d work that elevator like a barn animal until we couldn’t haul our bags around any more. We never once ran out of floors.

So, dude, I’m looking out that window and see you’re warming up, sending those first few sprinkles to get us ready. Do us a solid and don’t ruin the children’s Halloween parades tomorrow, mmkay? All that does is drench the costumes and make getting dressed that evening harder than putting a wetsuit on a cranky octopus. People don’t even like cold, wet swimsuits, not to mention treasured costumes with cheap accessories falling off and dye running down their legs.

Looking forward to tomorrow, however it shakes out. Don’t get me wrong, man, we love the way you lay down your thing and we look forward to you every year, but for once, you know, once in a while, we don’t want to end up with six pair of soaking wet shoes lined up in the hall.

Thanks, bud, keep it real,

The Roberts Family

Tuesday, October 28, 2008 Bad Mood Dude, Family, Politics

1. Putting eyeliner on an angry rhino in a phone booth.
2. Being the love toy of a Greek Army Battalion.
3. With the election in sight just a week away, spending hours helping your child write a biography on one of the candidates. On your computer.

Monday, October 27, 2008 Bad Mood Dude, Family

I knew I still wasn’t well when I walked into the kitchen after a marathon school run and assembly, saw the bakery box with four doughnuts in it, and thought, “Thank God the kids will be here to finish those off this afternoon.”

In other news. there’s nothing quite like waking from a half-doze, snuggled in with your children and hearing, “Mom? I’d better get up by 7:15 so I can get Dad to drop off my bike so I can ride it to school.”

“Babe, that would be now. Actually, that would be ten minutes ago.”

“Nooooooo!” He picked up the phone and dialed his father’s number over and over like a mental patient, hanging up when the voice mail came on. He was alternately screaming to the heavens and punching buttons. “Beep boop beeep boop beeep beep boob… Auuuggghhh! *click* Beep boop beeep boop beeep beep boob...”

So I dressed the other kids and got them going on breakfast.

Then I was ready to speak with my son. “Hon, slow down. If Dad is anywhere near a phone, and we know he is, he knows you’re trying to reach him. Let’s give him a chance. He could be in the shower, or reading racing forms in the john, or picking herbs from the garden for his omelet. You’re probably also driving his roommate nuts.”

“But he proooomised!”

“Did you even check the garage to see if he left it there without coming in?” Blank stare. Footfalls to the garage, opening door, SLAM. “Not there, huh? Okay, at least we know we’ve covered that.” I paused. “You may have to consider that you’re not riding your bike to school, buddy. There isn’t time, and even if there was, I’m not sure I’d allow it after the way you’ve dealt with this.”

Earlier, while he was pacing the house and leaving increasingly frantic messages, I calmly explained to my younger two, “You see? He’s making himself crazy over this. We have to learn to deal with disappointment. It’s a long life, and there will be tons of little disappointments, and plenty of big ones, too, so you have to choose how you’re going to react. So Daddy forgot. We can’t change that. But getting upset isn’t going to do anything either. It took me years to learn how to do this, but the bottom line is that you can’t change or control anything about anyone else, you can only change or control your response. If you freak out about every little thing, you’ll just make your tummy hurt and it doesn’t hurt anyone but yourself. I used to feel like that a lot, and had to actually decide one day to try not caring as much or feeling so disappointed, and to try to fix things myself or not expect so much.” I didn’t add that sometimes not caring so much about disappointment and hurt also makes you care less for the person responsible, but that’s a whole other book. Oh, right, I wrote that already. Check that off my list.

Nothing calmed him down until I finally yelled (sounds about right, doesn’t it?). “Listen up! This is not Logan’s Family, it’s OUR Family. It’s not your world, we all live here. It’s time to start considering the others and not making us all live inside your head. So you wanted to do something and now you can’t. Accept it and eat your Cheerios. You have no idea the pressures your father is feeling, or that I am for that matter, so please stop thinking only about your own disappointment and show some respect.”

I think that did it, because he came back about ten minutes later and apologized. A real, sincere as all get-out, look-me-in-the-eye apology.

And then we realized that his backpack and every single pair of wearable shoes were also at Dad’s. He wore cleats to school. I said I’d drop his backpack and a pair of shoes off at school after I went to get everything at Dad’s myself.

And now if you’ll excuse me, I must find my credit card and buy some shoes. How is it that we never ever know what size they wear when they’re not home?

Saturday, October 25, 2008 Family

It could have a smell for all I know with this stuffed-up nose. It definitely has a sound! And commentary from the boys! Who have learned to smack-talk!

Does anyone deliver donuts to my neighborhood? Coffee too. Thanks.

Thursday, October 23, 2008 Me, Me, Me, Fun with IM

My French friend just pinged me to see where I’ve been...

Marie-Hélène: Hey ... here you are! just sent you an email.

Me: Hey - I have been in bed with the crud.
Marie-Hélène: I know-are you feeling good enough to get out ? I want to feed you.
Me: Mom already tried that.
Marie-Hélène: Hahaha!
Me: I can’t go more than twenty feet from the powder room.
Marie-Hélène: Ok....get better and tomorrow I will take you out.
Me: Tomorrow sounds great. Actually there is peach-braised pork in the fridge I think, so I’m not exactly suffering.
Marie-Hélène: Darn! I just had a lousy sandwich.
Me: You should just walk in and rummage the fridge! I’ll tell Phil I did it -there’s very little he wouldn’t believe when it comes to that.
Marie-Hélène: I almost sent him an email yesterday.
Me: Oh god not about the election.
Marie-Hélène: After I saw the article about the $150 000 expense for sarah palin wardrobe. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/27320899/

Thursday, October 23, 2008 Family

See? I can play that game, too. I’m coming down with something, there are kiwi-sized lymph nodes under my jaw, and I have to keep turning my head from side to side to let one sinus cavity after another drain a bit. As I lay there on the edge of my bed, cheek smushed against the edge of the mattress, I could only mumble goodbye to Phil as he left for work.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just went boneless. I can’t turn over.” I reached back and patted his hand. At least I think it was his hand.

“You what? Are you okay? Can I bring you something?”

“No, I think I’ll just stay here for a while.”

Yeah, I know.

I suddenly understand how kids can go utterly limp and drape themselves over chairs, couches, parents, anything, really, and just stay there, unable to move. You could have nudged me over the edge and I’d just fall off the bed. I wouldn’t even put a hand out to stop it. That’s why I got up. You never know.

Sorry, my mind just went blank. I think I came out here for some apple juice. Over and out.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008 Bad Mood Dude, Family

So, remember how for my fortieth birthday my mom arranged for a painter and drywaller to transform my garage into fab new living space? Well, the first phase is complete—the walls have been textured, the beamed rafters primed and painted a glorious white, and the walls adorned with my favorite shade of Devine Paint, Almond. It’s the same color as in Daphne’s room, and the foyer. It’s a delicate green-blue-grey-silver, very textured and varies nicely with the light and the angle. It’s wonderful stuff.

The second phase involved renting a PODS container to sit on my curb and hold the eleventy metric tonnes of crap accumulated over ten years. Phil and I spent a lot of time and hurt a lot of muscles moving all of that out there. And it sits, padlocked and patient, waiting for the final phase: the acid-staining and sealing of the concrete. This is a big deal. It will give us much-needed office and play space, without taking away its usefulness as a garage. The concrete will be stained this wonderful, funky, random pattern and sealed to a shine. Think copper halfway to verdigris.

I finally got the cement guy and his wife to come out this afternoon to have a look and schedule the work. They gazed around the walls, looked up at the rafters, nodded in appreciation, and said, “Gee, it’s too bad it’s been painted. This stuff tends to spray all over.”

WHAT?

“Excuse me? Didn’t we talk about this? I was going to get everything but the floor done, I even moved a ton of stuff into storage, you knew you were doing the final step. Why didn’t we have this conversation earlier?”

”I didn’t realize the walls would already be painted.” He went on while I did the little freak-out face from “After You”. “We did a job recently where we taped the walls off to at least four feet off the ground, and when we took it off, the walls were two different colors.”

Well if that doesn’t punch holes in a sardine tin and leave it soaking into the sofa.

“I recommend we do laminate.”

“You mean the option that costs more then twice as much? The one I can’t afford? As opposed to the staining, which I could barely afford? That one?”

“Um, yeah. I guess we did have that conversation.”

I took a deep breath. “Well! This is new information! Everything changes until we figure out what to do. Basically, my choices are to either cover every square inch of the walls in a 400 square foot room, or scrap the idea altogether.”

“You could get one of those plastic roll-out floor coverings...” I did NOT want suggestions from these people. I wanted to crawl into my PODS crate and cry. Or suffocate. Whichever. All I know is that I will have moved everything three times: once to the center of the garage for the painter, once to the PODS crate at the end of the driveway, and once more back into the garage, sans cool new floor.

Think I’ll go crawl into bed with one of the kids. They snuggle up so sweetly, and bring me good dreams. I drew this picture for Daphne tonight, in return for the dozens she’s drawn of me (the latest in a wedding dress). She’s holding her two favorite stuffed toys, Cinnamon and Fluffy. I’ll give it to her in the morning.