Modern Mommy:

Another Great Deal Brought To You By The Modern Family

You know me.  Always sneaking around the Internet, skulking behind corners and peeking into the lesser known websites seeking the buried treasure that is "the undiscovered site"  In this case I was surfing for stylish diaper bags for a friend who just became a mommy.  Naturally I was pleased to stumble upon a fantastic site called ShopWiki.  I was so proud of myself, but now I find out that this site is not exactly a secret, but is rather popular in some of the blogging circles I often play in. 

So the search for the cool diaper bag begins.  I am thinking trendy, stylish, repulsively expensive.  So I thought Coach.  Feast your mommy eyes on these I found on ShopWiki.  This next one you must see, I have included this juicy little photo of the Baby Bjorn family on the go.  Internet meet the "Diaper Bag Dynamic"

I wanna be that family, don't you?  Enough to buy the bags and carrier?  There may also be a wardrobe and make-up change.  But otherwise this could so be me.  Here is your obligatory link for those of you who are so inclined.  I actually found all the baby clothes, accessories, toys, and products from just about every store on the Internet that parents or gift giving friends could want buy. You can find just about anything and everything that your little mommy mind can imagine on this site.  I am seriously always the last to know.  Anyone have good or bad experiences on ShopWiki?  So far the purchases I have made were just what they said they would be, and the experience was great.  Ideas and thoughts on other little known websites for children's toys, clothes etc?  Let me know!!

If it were up to me, I would be the one wearing the trendy clothes, carrying the expensive diaper bag, driving the stylish huge mini-van (the one with all the bells and whistles) living in the fancy gated neighborhood and sipping lattes while the pool man cleans with his shirt off.  But I am more sensible than that.  I drive a hybrid, I wear jeans and t-shirts, I do occasionally sip lattes, but not usually by the pool I do not have.  Mostly I am just mommy, playing with my kids, going to soccer and gymnastics, working my part time job and surfing for just the right diaper bag.

It's Official

I am now a mini-van driving Soccer Mom.  Modern Pre-schooler started soccer last week.  It's more like random ball kicking with the occasional spurts of running and falling.  But she has shin guards and that is as official as it gets for me!  She may in fact be more excited about the family eating dinner out after every Thurs. night practice, but hey this is just the beginning of things she will be doing because it is the whim of parents who think three and a half year olds look good in Nike.

All I know is that I am finally a proud member of that cheering mommy and daddy sideline crew.  Lawn chairs spread out, coolers open and juice boxes on hand for our brave little soccer players.  I yelled, I clapped, I took photos. (note to readers: I recently purchased the digital camera I have been dreaming about for around 6 years.  I have taken many pictures in the last 10 days.  I have not, however, loaded the new software on the computer.  Pictures will be published in agonizing numbers as soon as I get around to the boring installment)  I am so proud of my little girl and cannot help feeling that this may just be the beginning of the end.  As i drove my family home in the mini-van, I felt a swelling in my chest.  I am getting a little teary just typing it.  They grow up so fast.

PS  Have you all read the famous blog: Soccer Mom Vote?  It is a fantastic blog for mommies and daddies alike.  My dear friend and award winning (and creating) Sonia, writes for the The Vote.  Check out her latest post there, and her very own blog here.  And as always check out Sonia and all the other sweet blogs i am digging each and every day by clicking on the handy links provided in my sidebar.

This Is Only A Test

Have you ever casually joked about something only to have it visited upon you and your family within a matter of days?  Well I am always tempting fate, making fun of other people's misfortunes or humilating moments.  It is always in good fun and nearly almost always tastefully done.  But recently I have noticed a bit of a turn in my luck.  Take today for example.  Step out of the mini-van, gum on my shoe.  Nice.  Walking out of the Target bathroom, T paper stuck to my shoe.  Really good looking store manager points this out to me before any other beautiful or handsome people have the chance.  Nice.  Checking in at the Dr office, nice pretty little 20 something office assistant points out the food stuck to my shirt, thank you Modern Toddler.  Done yet?  Enough humiliation for one day... one month?  Nope.  Giddy-Up.  Stopping by pharmacy for scripts, picking up some Advil for my throbbing head and injured pride.  Another shockingly observant pharm. tech is either rude enough, or kind enough to point out my zipper is down.  You mortified for me?  Bring it on.  Back into the car, and I swear on my good name, more gum on my shoe.  I am so done with today.

Modern Mommy And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

I kind of hate today.  My morning plans fell through, leaving me feeling a bit lost.  Took girls to the park, the slide was too hot for Modern Toddler's cute bottom and she screamed when I tried to put her in the swing.  I hate the near almost meltdown I just about had in the Target women's bathroom.  Modern Toddler screaming, Modern Pre-schooler will not sit on the big potty.  My cell is ringing, and my husband cannot hear me complain over the toilets flushing about how the refrigerator seems not to be keeping things cold and "why is that?"  I have applesauce all over my shirt, thanks to Modern Toddler and all of the women in the bathroom are looking at me because I dropped the sh bomb in front of them, my kids and my sticky green shirt... in a public place.   The house is a mess, laundry piling up and Modern Hubby is running late.  I hate this day, I am going to bed.

The Newest Fashion Craze

I cannot say much for shoes, except what I learned watching Sex in the City.  Ditto for just about any fashion accessory, hand bags, bling and small purse like dogs - or dog like purses, something that barks and matches your wardrobe. Something about the devil and Prada etc etc. But let me welcome you into the modern mommy fashion world.  Slightly less mystery and flash, more cotton and denim.  Today's modern mom is more likely to be found actually wearing food... yogurt, cereal, spaghetti sauce.  You know the drill.  Suffice to say that no one gets out of PJs in this house until you have eaten at least two meals in them.  We have clothes for playing, clothes for portraits and birthday parties, clothes for sleeping, clothes for eating, and most recently clothes for pre-school.  You think your kid comes home dirty? Let me tell you.  There is literally a dirty line where the clothes end and the playground starts.  Even completely naked and ready for bath time, Modern Pre-schooler still looks like she has been body painted like some freaky little anatomically correct life size doll.  And while we are on the subject, let me intro the latest hand me down addition to the modern family, now to be known only as Modern Baby Doll.  This is a scruffy looking doll that Modern Toddler picked up while playing at Modern Mommy's BFF's house.  Modern BFF has 5 children and there are always dolls laying around.  Modern Toddler wanted nothing to do with any of them, until this one.  Now they are inseperable.  Since their first meeting last week, Modern Toddler has not gone anywhere with out Modern Baby Doll.  Eating, napping, playing.  This poor doll just gets dragged along.  I think everyone will be wearing them soon.  You watch.  We find this ridiculously cute right now, and i am sure this will change.  Until then we just play along.  I cannot tell you much about fashion, but I do know what's all the rage in the modern household, cotton t-shirts, sparkling pink leotards and old and gently loved baby dolls.  That is as good as it gets.  Tell me about the toys and things your kids are attached to, and the funny stories attached to them?

 

Role Play

Don't men just have it all made? I think it must be so nice to have such simple roles just laid out for you. I do not have a clue what i think about the "woman's role" We know all the cliches, barefoot, the kitchen thing, have kids and stay home, no kids and the career... or then there are the women who go for it all with grace and ease, bloody hell. I can't seem to figure out who I am from day to day. The men, oh the men. Could it be any easier? True they are forced to live with us, but I just don't imagine them spending hour after excruciating hour trying to reconcile head and heart the way we do. I am strong one day, weak the next. I long to be one of those well adjusted, level headed women who seem to belong where they are at any given moment. My lovely friend Rosie O'Donnell puts rather a fine point on it in Sleepless in Seattle... "Verbal ability is a highly overrated thing in a guy, and it's our pathetic need for it that gets us into so much trouble." True that. So in all my efforts to force change in everyone but myself, I forget this blinding truth. Oh bother, is it really supposed to be so hard to figure out? Can't people be programmed all their lives to be one way? Social, surrounded by people, in the middle of everything. Then comes this thing called motherhood and suddenly you make a choice, buy a mini-van and try every day to reprogram. Alone is not so bad, conversation with a three year old is enough, sleep is not that important. It is like someone put my life on closed captioning. I can't seem to follow the story and concentrate on what's happening right in front of me. And I am sick of me, Yawn. So sick of myself. Better me, lazy me, impatient and nagging me.

Motherhood can be wretched, bleak... long periods of blah, blah, blah with small rays of excitement and fun. Everyone knows the fierceness of how much I love my babies, I have no interest in any life that does not include being their mom. But don't i get to complain and whine as much as anybody else about my job? If my husband comes home after a bad day and has a little rant, i would not say, "Hey honey, maybe you are not cut out for this life, you better quit and come up with something else." When we were kids and we were busy busy thinking we got a raw deal, our parents suck, life is so hard. It is beyond boring to be stuck at home with our parents, and we wanted to be some where else, or maybe someone else. Who knew our parents were thinking the same thing?

These are pretty hard days, when the kids are so little and the needs so immediate and overwhelming. Maybe i should give myself a break, and try to imagine things a year or two down the road. Kids in school, we are all sleeping, maybe even a date or two with my husband. Ok, now i just have to figure out how to shower, cook dinner and be happy all in one day. Then do it again tomorrow, and the next day...

Don't men just have it all made? I think it must be so nice to have such simple roles just laid out for you. I do not have a clue what i think about the "woman's role" We know all the cliches, barefoot, the kitchen thing, have kids and stay home, no kids and the career... or then there are the women who go for it all with grace and ease, bloody hell. I can't seem to figure out who I am from day to day. The men, oh the men. Could it be any easier? True they are forced to live with us, but I just don't imagine them spending hour after excruciating hour trying to reconcile head and heart the way we do. I am strong one day, weak the next. I long to be one of those well adjusted, level headed women who seem to belong where they are at any given moment. My lovely friend Rosie O'Donnell puts rather a fine point on it in Sleepless in Seattle... "Verbal ability is a highly overrated thing in a guy, and it's our pathetic need for it that gets us into so much trouble." True that. So in all my efforts to force change in everyone but myself, I forget this blinding truth. Oh bother, is it really supposed to be so hard to figure out? Can't people be programmed all their lives to be one way? Social, surrounded by people, in the middle of everything. Then comes this thing called motherhood and suddenly you make a choice, buy a mini-van and try every day to reprogram. Alone is not so bad, conversation with a three year old is enough, sleep is not that important. It is like someone put my life on closed captioning. I can't seem to follow the story and concentrate on what's happening right in front of me. And I am sick of me, Yawn. So sick of myself. Better me, lazy me, impatient and nagging me.

Motherhood can be wretched, bleak... long periods of blah, blah, blah with small rays of excitement and fun. Everyone knows the fierceness of how much I love my babies, I have no interest in any life that does not include being their mom. But don't i get to complain and whine as much as anybody else about my job? If my husband comes home after a bad day and has a little rant, i would not say, "Hey honey, maybe you are not cut out for this life, you better quit and come up with something else." When we were kids and we were busy busy thinking we got a raw deal, our parents suck, life is so hard. It is beyond boring to be stuck at home with our parents, and we wanted to be some where else, or maybe someone else. Who knew our parents were thinking the same thing?

These are pretty hard days, when the kids are so little and the needs so immediate and overwhelming. Maybe i should give myself a break, and try to imagine things a year or two down the road. Kids in school, we are all sleeping, maybe even a date or two with my husband. Ok, now i just have to figure out how to shower, cook dinner and be happy all in one day. Then do it again tomorrow, and the next day...

Eggs And Injuries

Now that we have all recovered from picnics and fireworks, settled back in to routine and had a moment to breathe... let's talk about eggs.  July 5th was a pretty typical day in the modern family household.  Girls were up by 8:30 this morning.  I know, I know.  That is pretty late actually.  Usually they sleep until 9am, jealous much?  So I am barely climbing out of bed when they are up and ready to play.  We get in to the normal routine, warm vanilla milk, sesame street and a bit of play time before we start breakfast.  I take my time getting to the kitchen and right about the time I am actually awake was the moment I noticed the eggs.  Or rather the egg carton.  Just a small detail really, maybe something most people might miss.  Not Modern Mommy.  And especially not on a day when I did not get a blog post up early enough, and you know that means that I am still looking for material at 10am.  Sad?  Yeah, just a little.  So, the eggs.  I am halfway into cracking the second egg when I see something printed on the inside of the package.  A scripture.  In Psalms.  I did not get the chapter and verse, but the whole thing struck me as funny.  Who doesn't need a little religion at this hour?  I know.  It's not that early.  Play along here.  It's not like I do not find eggs to be inspiring on their own.  On the contrary.  Eggs can and do move me to be a better person, a kinder mom and a gentler wife.  Eggs have been doing that for centuries.

 

I can think of several occasions in American History alone where eggs have played a major role in the development of our country.  Why just this year Craig Schindewolf of Egg Harbor Township High School, Egg Harbor Township, NJ was awarded an honorable mention in the coveted Gilder Lehrman Prize in American History for his piece on The War of 1812.  You laugh but the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History is no joke.  Neither is Egg Harbor Township of New Jersey.  To look down at the Egg Harbor River today one might have difficulty conceiving this waterway as a bustling artery of commerce over 400 years ago.  Read up people this is good stuff.  How about the medieval technique of tempera painting?  I never get tired of this story.  Seriously.  The word "tempera" derives from the medieval Latin "temperare," meaning blending or mixing. Today, the word indicates a medium bound with emulsions, combined with dry pigments and water. The exhibition considers techniques using both egg yolk (egg tempera) and milk proteins as principal emulsions.  Researched and wrote that by myself, mostly.  This next part is pure plagerism.  "Eggs also have the properties of foaming, coagulating, emulsifying, and coloring, which make them useful in cakes, custards, meringues, mayonnaise, and other foods typical of American culinary taste. Among their nonfood uses: eggs and eggshells are used in fertilizers; fertile eggs are used in the production of the vaccines for canine distemper, mumps, and yellow fever; and egg yolks are used to preserve bull semen for artificial insemination."  Priceless though right.

Now that you are totally grossed out, and forgive me for the adult cow content (can you imagine the Google searches this post will return?  I cannot wait, and I promise to again share the latest search keywords in the next  few weeks!) but the shock and awe was too good to pass up.  I will never eat, prepare or paint with eggs again, but hey who is not up for a learning experience, I was!  I wanted to mention also several injuries I have suffered already today.  The first of course was due to falling out of my chair while writing this post.  Subsequently, I have been whacked in the nose (Modern Pre-schooler) punched in the eye (Modern Toddler) and (completely serious now) cut my finger on a rather sharp egg shell.  Don't even say it. 

This Train Never Stops (Which Is Odd Because It Is Always Late)

Light fading, limbs growing cold.  Must move toward the light.  Goodbye cruel world... rosebud! 

Ok, actually Modern Family is sick.  Again.  Or still.  I don't know anymore.  I am on yet another round of antibiotics, for like the 100th sinus infection this year. Not like celebrating the 100th post, but I can certainly name 1oo or so things I hate about being sick.  I won't.  I will spare you.  So, other than the pounding in my head and the ringing in my ears I am fine really.  Oh, there is this cough now...  never mind.  So I went back to urgent care this weekend cause I could not stand it one more day.  I am not sure if they are actual doctors, but this time I at least walked out with antibiotics.  That might have been helpful LAST WEEK!!  But hey, I was cool about it.  Let's just say I am not falling for any more of their smooth talk.  I do not know what they are up to, but I am in charge now and I need drugs!  The group of doctors Modern Hubby and I see also run urgent care on the weekends.  Mostly it is the same as the weekday appointments.  They all rotate on call and since we do not have a copay this year (nice) it is roughly the same as going in during the week.  But Sundays are slower, I try to get sick on Sundays now.  It's just easier.

Suddenly the Modern Family schedule is overflowing.  You might think that a family with younger children might not yet be driving here and there to school events, sports, music or dance classes.  What with mini human gymnastics, Gymboree (also known as the pregnant mommies club, of which I have not been included because, well... I am not pregnant.  They could have been nicer about it though) birthday parties, picnics, summer get-togethers and various other things like work, sleep and showering - we can barely keep up.

Today, we find ourselves on the eve of Tune in Tuesdays.  Remember Miss Sonia Sunshine's Pet Cemetery , the premier post of Tune in Tuesdays?  So awesome.  And LA Daddy's Parental Advisory - Explicit Content post.  A great blog thanks by the way, I am STILL getting "searched into" by the many internet freaks looking for explicit content.  Honestly, if I had a site with this type of content (and yes, I am sending myself to blog hell by even including these keywords again) I would not be advertising that way.  This obvious fact seems to elude some our friends in the blog-sphere. Back to the point.  I am working on a pretty blogtacular guest author for tomorrow. However, there is some question as to scheduling.  In the event that our esteemed guest is unable to post for this week's installment, I will be here to regale you with intentionally mispelled, generally useless information packed into meaningless, if not slightly humorous, posts.  As usual.  Good times.   

This just in.  The incomparable Corky Himself, or Captain Corky as you may know him WILL in fact be making a rare and coveted appearance for this week's installment of Tune in Tuesdays!!  Check him out here, check him out there.  Don't miss this post and don't forget to visit his blog! Go, right now!  And come back often!

Friday I'm In Love Goes On The Road

After tens of readers made Tune in Tuesdays a raging case of success, it is my distinct honor to return the favor and take this show on the road. Tomorrow I will be packing up, kenneling the fish (God knows what happens to pets over there) and hanging my posting hat over at "...and the pursuit of happiness" by the blogtastic Miss Sonia Sunshine. You may have also heard her vocal stylings at The Soccer Mom Vote, where she is one of their self titled, "resident political bisexuals, a.k.a LIBERTARIANS". I understand pets are not allowed over there any more, good thing. I'll tell you what, animals seem to have a rather short shelf life over at "...the pursuit". I know, I know, still with the bit about the pets? It is an addiction, I can't seem to get over it. Talk about kicking a dead horse. That one was flagrant, and I am already in fowl trouble. Again with me and the poultry? I guess it's time to call off the Humane Society, no animals were harmed in the posting of this blog.

Please bring all the readers you have ever met and join me over at Sonia's blog for the greatest time ever had while blogging. Our subject matter? Bloggers and the People Who Love Them. It's sensational blog journalism at it's best. Maybe I could use the word blog one more time. So, head on over to Miss Sonia's page and have a look see. Also, be sure to fill up the comments here and there. I think I got a little link happy. Oops, here comes some more... While you are at it, pop in at The Soccer Mom Vote and introduce yourself with some nice comments. Just wait until you see the link ridden post tomorrow!

All Things Mommy

Happy Mother's Day! Here's to hoping your toddler does not completely melt down during your Mother's Day brunch. May your day be free of diaper explosions, projectile vomiting and sippy cup incidents involving 3 or more Disney Princess or Thomas the Train band-aids. On this one day of the year when Hallmark, Flowers.Com and the cellular phone companies do their very best to make all of us who carried human beings in our bellies then proceeded to labor and birth them with a certain degree of difficulty and pain, feel special - I would like to share what I have learned about motherhood in the other 364 days...

First and most obvious, every day is mother's day. For the mother you have or the mother you are or about to be, each day deserves many thanks, appropriate medication and mastery of proven behavior modification techniques. Motherhood does not any any form, on any day resemble Cheerios, Gerber or Huggies commercials. The likelihood of experiencing such maternal euphoria on a regular basis in roughly equal to the chances of Victoria's Secret models knocking on your door because your cracked open a can of Coors Light. No one on the planet knows more about love, fear, anti-depressants, the art of distraction or exactly how many MM's are required to buy 10 more minutes at the grocery store than a mother. The ancient art of manipulation and some warm vanilla milk works on rumbly tummies and restless little minds in the middle of the night. Boredom, loneliness, frustration fall upon each mom, sometimes all in one day, sometimes every day. But beyond the laundry baskets, grocery carts and the diapers pails is this inescapable truth, there is a very distinct possibility that tomorrow will be worse. There will be foreign objects lodged in noses, crayons in the dryer and just enough sleep to land you somewhere between desperate housewife and inpatient services.

The screaming in the sandbox, the lay down on the floor and let the world know just how oppressed you are kind of tantrum in the nice store or restaurant, (never in Walmart who's population might be more forgiving) where you get the stares from the childless, the rich nanny at home types and the judgmental advice dishing types. Sure, I am that trendy, modern mom. The iBook, the iPod, the latte in one hand and a tube of balmex in the other. The Baby Gap outfit, soon to be covered in snot, sand and yogurt. The gymboree classes, the mommy and me facial and pedicure. Driving through scenic, northern california wine country as Modern Toddler throws up very expensive smoked salmon and Chardonay all over our plush rental SUV. Have I told you about all the shiny volume and bounce my hair has lately?

Mommy guilt. The stuff of which deep arm chair therapy is made. Do I... love them enough, keep them safe enough, let them be individuals enough, sports, dance, and violin. All that is before kindergarden. Before breakfast even. But ok, here is the soft, chewy center of it all. The fierce hugs, the goodnight butterfly kisses, whispered I Love You's and their little fingers intertwined with yours. That's the stuff we are made of... that is what keep us coming back for more.

Happy Mother's Day today, and everyday.

Can Someone Help Me Down Off This Soapbox?

I have read a lot lately in newspapers, magazines and blogs of course, about how women feel about themselves, their roles, how they think other women feel about them and their roles, and how they think men feel about their roles and so on and so forth. In a recent post on the Soccer Mom Vote, an outstanding blog - a must read, one of the authors explored the great feminist question of what is really better for our children: Stay Home VS Work Outside the Home. That may put too fine a point on it, the post did expand on the many details of a family's individual circumstances. These details, varying to such a degree, that one set of absolute rules or values to govern all, I think, would be impossible. I toss this over and over in my head. I had it so clearly defined when I was first married, then it was further solidified after my first daughter came along... Who could have told me how strong the urge would be to yank each hair out of my head, proceed to light myself on fire and run screaming into the night? The truth is that I have the decision making ability of warm yogurt, and this has lead me down many cul-de-sacs in this life. Lucky I have been to manage to turn myself around.

Staying home was the only choice in my mind and heart. So fast and furious was my rather obsessive attachment to my babies, that all other choices fell aside. I felt strong in my conviction, then weak the next day... worrying that I did not possess the strength working mothers must have mastered. I wished for that strength, so that my choice would be exactly that, instead of the nagging fear that I might stop breathing. Those black and whites have blurred to a thick, foggy gray and I cannot see past my nose. I lost myself along the way. Maybe long before. I cannot say for sure what is better for all children. My instinct tells me that babies need their moms, and dads all the time. I am squarely in the Stay Home camp, but I wander past the trees and browse in the neighboring camps and wonder if I am really cut out for what I ironically cannot live without...

It all feels like chaos. So many voices, judging, blaming and belittling. So many of those voices are other women, the media and many others. So much noise. Depression, anxiety, stress. Of course we do not know how we feel about our roles, someone else keeps changing how they are defined. Let me take a moment to recommend a great book. It may not change your life, but people this is a must read if you are a mom dealing with anxiety, or a dad dealing with your wife, her anxiety and maybe yours. Please Read Perfect Madness: Motherhood in the Age of Anxiety by Judith Warner.

My goal is to stop listening to the voices, turn off the noise, avoid the chaos as much as is possible and find peace. That is a tall order for me (ridiculously long story including many amusing anecdotes involving a badger and a spoon). The changing roles...That is what I wanted to explore in myself when I started this blog, what I wanted to know about other moms. I want to truly define myself in and with out my roles. If anyone can put the self back into selfless it is me. Sometimes i can't fit through our doorways, my head swells so. So I am looking for peace. I am looking for the right amount of chaos, and the right level of pharmaceutical assistance and a flattering pair of black capris.

The Girls' Guide to Hunting and Fishing

Don't men just have it all made? I think it must be so nice to have such simple roles just laid out for you. I do not have a clue what i think about the "woman's role" We know all the cliches, barefoot, the kitchen thing, have kids and stay home, no kids and the career... or then there are the women who go for it all with grace and ease, bloody hell. I can't seem to figure out who I am from day to day. The men, oh the men. Could it be any easier? True they are forced to live with us, but I just don't imagine them spending hour after excruciating hour trying to reconcile head and heart the way we do. I am strong one day, weak the next. I long to be one of those well adjusted, level headed women who seem to belong where they are at any given moment. My lovely friend Rosie O'Donnell puts rather a fine point on it in Sleepless in Seattle... "Verbal ability is a highly overrated thing in a guy, and it's our pathetic need for it that gets us into so much trouble." True that. So in all my efforts to force change in everyone but myself, I forget this blinding truth. Oh bother, is it really supposed to be so hard to figure out? Can't people be programmed all their lives to be one way? Social, surrounded by people, in the middle of everything. Then comes this thing called motherhood and suddenly you make a choice, buy a mini-van and try every day to reprogram. Alone is not so bad, conversation with a three year old is enough, sleep is not that important. It is like someone put my life on closed captioning. I can't seem to follow the story and concentrate on what's happening right in front of me. And I am sick of me, Yawn. So sick of myself. Better me, lazy me, impatient and nagging me.

Motherhood can be wretched, bleak... long periods of blah, blah, blah with small rays of excitement and fun. Everyone knows the fierceness of how much I love my babies, I have no interest in any life that does not include being their mom. But don't i get to complain and whine as much as anybody else about my job? If my husband comes home after a bad day and has a little rant, i would not say, "Hey honey, maybe you are not cut out for this life, you better quit and come up with something else." When we were kids and we were busy busy thinking we got a raw deal, our parents suck, life is so hard. It is beyond boring to be stuck at home with our parents, and we wanted to be some where else, or maybe someone else. Who knew our parents were thinking the same thing?

These are pretty hard days, when the kids are so little and the needs so immediate and overwhelming. Maybe i should give myself a break, and try to imagine things a year or two down the road. Kids in school, we are all sleeping, maybe even a date or two with my husband. Ok, now i just have to figure out how to shower, cook dinner and be happy all in one day. Then do it again tomorrow, and the next day...

A Season for Change

Sometimes, I have to stand on my head to get the baby to eat. Ok, it may be more often than that. We are stuck in that transition between baby food and table food, she eats both, she refuses both. While jumping on one foot, humming the theme to Law and Order (cause she likes to dance to it) pulling Sherif Woody's string... "You're my favorite deputy!" and "There's a snake in my boot" then spooning in yogurt and baby cereal... She may have swallowed some of it, I can never be sure. In 8 days, she will be 1 year old. My little baby, my silly-potomus, the stinker bell. And as March 16th looms big, I am keenly aware that the blue eyed wonder reaching this first amazing milestone is not the only life change on my radar. After 3 bouts of postpartum depression, anxiety and the general periods of loneliness and boredom (yes, I said it, motherhood is not all Hallmark moments) I have made her first birthday, the point at which I will simultaneously wean from breast-feeding, stop taking the current antidepressant , start new medication and try to loose all the weight I gained from said anti-depressants. Also I believe I may have made mention of some chocolate and pizza in previous posts. These may have also contributed. Yikes, it is exhausting just to type it. So I am cleaning furiously, cooking elaborate dinners, actually staying atop the laundry (including folding it) and basically showing off to my husband that I have this whole thing under control. I am lazy by nature, a homebody who likes to entertain, sip coffee slowly and stay in my PJs all day (less work at bedtime). I am surprisingly impatient given my other tendencies and I am always up for the quick fix. No such thing most of the time, but it doesn't stop me from looking. As we inch closer to this celebrated day, I am a bit anxious. However I have chosen, at least for today to embrace change and face it head on. Mostly I am bored and anything to shake things up is welcome at my door. I have the distinct feeling this one comment may come back to haunt me, an karma always does.

On a happier note, I have had the immense pleasure to make a donation to a very worthy cause, Autism Speaks. i have added this amazing org to my charity badge and encourage everyone to just give a little. So many of us have been so blessed, I hope we can all share just a little of what we have to bless another's life. Hopefully if I spread a little good, I might have some come back our way.

What to talk about on this Monday. I feel deep today, inspired maybe. A holiday Monday even, that improves what is generally agreed to be the least of all the days of the week. So, Presidents... happy your day. I don't suppose many of us give much real thought, if any, to what this day means. Myself included, and maybe I am feeling particularly introspective, but I have actually considered the idea behind today's holiday. You all were extraordinary men. Maybe not great, certainly not perfect, but human and flawed. To be honest, I am discovering the meaning in many things I never considered.

Like many of you, I often do not comprehend the responsibility of my position. I believe, despite my dark and pessimistic sense of humor, and in spite of my self, that the human race is in fact, worthy. I find myself at a point in which real consideration and analysis of the world around me is sorely needed. We all are pulled in different directions. Look inward, explore self. Look past ourselves, to be selfless, direct our energies toward something other than self interest. I can honestly say I have been quite happily riding this fence all my life. And while I have observed rather green grass growing on both sides, I have yet to determine why I should be completely convinced to ever leave my current perch. It is not so much that I cannot decide which direction to take in life, nothing so grand. More that I want to find the elusive balance between the two.

I don't fancy myself to be so very different from many others in my place. Or in any other place for that matter. To the contrary in fact. I take a great deal of comfort in finding similarities between myself and the rest of the human race. I, like so many of us, enjoy finding those parallels, those common feelings, fears and hopes. To find balance, to not feel alone. The list grows. I think so many of us feel we have lost originality. I do. I keep trying to reinvent myself. Smarter, stronger, funnier. Better mom, better wife, self exploration, selfless acts. And the bigger idea here may be the journey and not the destination. Again, this does not approach originality as far as "the big ideas" are concerned. But maybe the context, rather than the idea alone is the key? Because I am discovering things that many other people know, things already said and done. But in the context of my life they are groundbreaking, simple and powerful. I enjoy, as much as I hate the comparison game. What I know is this: I worship in many churches. The hipster parent churches... Starbucks, Williams Sonoma and Pottery Barn, my trifecta. I listen to NPR, I covet Volkswagens, IPods and other Yuppie toys. I shop for baby and toddler clothes at Old Navy and Baby Gap. I buy things off e-bay and have accounts on myspace and YouTube. I watch CNN, worship my IBook and drive a mini-van. I love, in a spiritual way, Van Morrison, vanilla lattes and scrapbooking. I want expensive appliances, cool clothes and a modern hairstyle. I land somewhere in the middle when it comes to politics. I think the Declaration of Independence is beautiful, have you ever really read it? I believe in freedom, happiness and the rights to live seeking both, while not obstructing anyone else's rights to the same. I do think we are all created equal and it is our own human fault if we mess things up from there. I believe in family, laughter and free speech. Boy do I believe in that last one. Of course it would be easier if so much of the evil in the world did not exist, and loosing hope and faith in ourselves is not such a stretch given all we witness and endure as a people. I am stuck between worlds all the time. What people see and expect, what I am and want. In the world or of the world. Do I follow a religious path, or go it alone? How do I survive the "kids are still so little, we have no time for each other, who are we, pay the bills, clean the house, take care of you, take care of me, love me like you used to, be the person I used to know, kind of marital mine field I am walking through with my husband? How do we come out alive and together? How does one reconcile so much love and hate in one human body? How do you not screw up your kids? Embrace the immanent screwage and do the best you can I suppose. What if the best you can is exhausting and you want to just do the very least for a while?

I heard something today, I won't share exactly where or how, it does not matter in this moment. I will say they are not my words, but come from me as much as if I had been first to say them aloud...

"There are no shortcuts... in life, or in love. This pain must be felt, the alternative is much worse. It's what makes us special, what makes us beautiful, what makes us worthy. The pain of how we love. But that pain is accompanied by something else, isn't it? Hope. With your pain, there is hope. And that is where you are. Somewhere between agony and optimism and prayer. So, you're human. You're alive, and that's what we have."

I do not know who else will read this, feel this or agree with this. But I am just putting it out there. Tossing this out, in hopes for a response, an acknowledgment, a nod. Into this world, I do not understand, but love and hate anyway.

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is there a camera on somewhere?

I pick Lauren's nose. There I said it. If I see a little bat in the cave, I go in after it. She is my baby, I made her, and I remind her of this while she is trying desperately to swat my hand away. Who wants a baby with yuckies on their face? Or hanging out their nose. Now, be honest, you have done this too. Lauren is 10 + mos. now and so in addition to the natural productions, we also add baby food to the equation. This stuff is really sticky, I mean I have perm. scrap adhesive that could not hold on as tight as this stuff. Although, I doubt the oatmeal is acid free and of archival quality.

Now that we have that out of the way, and we are fast friends for sure I should also probably tell you that Lauren's 3 yr old big sister seems to have taken this procedure as a thumbs up to regularly clean out her own nose. She is not swearing in the hush of church or kicking the you know what out of the dryer (not that she has seen this done) but every time I look down her finger is halfway to her frontal lobe. I suspect the rest of the world does not think this is cute or endearing. Because even other parents have given me the "she learned that somewhere" look.

Since we are confiding in one another I will share one last little nugget. Seriously no pun intended. As my husband frequently grows a goatee or some other facial hair variation, there have been times when I have had to provide a similar service for him. I don't actually handle removal, that is more a contract position, but we warmly refer to this situation as a "pirate on the hair ship" No matter how many times I hear this, I still find it hysterical. I also am terribly amused by bathroom humor. When do we grow out of that? As a final note, in case you are wondering about cooties, I wash my hands many times a day. After all, there are many other things in my world much more treacherous than pirates.