Proud of My Mans

"So how do you feel knowing that your husband is about to go into the ring and get punched in the face?" Um.. I'm hoping that I don't have a toothless spouse at the end of the night? I'm really not into that whole "I go no teefesus" look.


"What was it like seeing him up in the ring fighting?" Scary. Fun. Weird to know that now people know how much chest hair that man has. Heh.


"Are you excited? Do you feel like you are going to throw up or do you just want to see him wail on some dude?" Wail on the dude, not pour blood out of his face or make me have to yell things like, "I smell bacon! F the police H! Bring home the bacon, baby!" Obviously, H was fighting a cop.

I think I got asked these questions about ninety-bazillion times the night of H's fight. It is as if people were surprised that I "let" him fight at all. While H remained calm all day prior to his first boxing match I found myself to be a nervous wreck. About two hours before when I was trying to figure out what to wear (and I tore my favorite Citizen's jeans! Oh the humanity!) I had to put on some mind-melding music to talk me down from my imaginary ledge. Then the sitter came, I wiped the spit-out baby food off me and headed across the street to my friends house for a little liquid courage. By the time I got to the fight I was downright jovial and just proud of my man. I saw all his friends there and it made me so happy for him.

Then, I heard Marilyn Manson's 'Beautiful People' come over the speakers and I knew he was about to enter the ring. I took a swig of my "organic lemonade" and prepared for the worst. That's not what happened though. H kicked some serious ass and just wailed on the guy. At one point he ran away from him. I guess I always knew my husband was a bruiser but I had never seen him like that. All of a sudden though it was as someone just sucked everything out of him and he faltered. He threw a hard left at the same time as his opponent and it got H right in the shoulder. He couldn't even lift his arm up or protect himself. The fight was over in round two. The bacon won by default.




A nurse backstage said H might have torn his rotator cuff and he was quickly iced, wrapped and given pain meds. We hung out and watched the rest of the fight with our friends and family and then went out to celebrate H despite him not getting a Rockem Sockem robot looking type trophy. The man's in pain, he's getting it checked out today. I'm proud of him though. And you know what? I hope he gets to do it again. It was kind of hot.










I'm giving away Lashfood mascara and Votre Vu shampoo this week at MPR. Enter to win! It ends Friday!!

Urine Reviews

Get it? Heh. I'm in product reviews. Bum, dum, dum...

File this under products I will not be reviewing-

The Whiz Freedom. It's 'lily-shaped' and much like the Pocket Pee for men The Whiz (I bet nobody can be it!) is cheap, purple and is great for women who have to pee on the run. Literally.

I can see the benefit for some but really? You think I'm going to review kid DVDs, mascara or a car one week and the next I'm going to be talking about my experiences peeing into a purple lily?! Do I talk about the need for my own portable pee bag that often?

Incidentally, when I searched this device a bunch of ads for Virginia gonorrhea came up as well.

I Wanna Rock With You

Dear E,

I am sad today. Michael Jackson has died and while I wasn't a fan of his later stuff (minus Remember the Time and that Home Alone kid in his videos) I have such fond memories of us dancing to 'Rock With You' while I toiled away at my after school job at CVS. You perfected those dance moves and it always made me laugh so hard to watch you do the leg kick move while I stood behind the register waiting on sick customers and kids buying their first box of condoms (with a pack of gum, of course).

And who could forget you kissing your MJ poster each night before bed. Red leather jacket, sequined glove and all.

Watch the awesome dance moves here. (Damn removal of the embedding code. Curses! YouTube! Foiled Again!)

Jennifer Weiner's New BFF

Recently, I had the opportunity to interview best-selling novelist Jennifer Weiner about her new book, Best Friends Forever (debuting July 14, 2009). To say I was ecstatic would be an understatement. I have enjoyed reading Weiner's book since the very beginning. I can still remember a cross-country flight that was fun and relaxing because I was reading, In Her Shoes (now a major motion picture), the whole time.





1. The theme of female friendship is the common thread that all your previous books have in common. However, the opening to “Best Friends Forever” plays out like a suspense thriller. How is this book different from your others?


I wanted to weave elements of suspense and a highly compressed time frame in to a more traditional narrative about the way two girls came together and grew apart. There’s also a male main character, so that was new for me.


2. You write so often about long time friendship between women. Is there a friend you have that has been there for you through your lifetime?


Oddly, no. I was a weird, geeky kid who was more comfortable with books than people for many, many years, so I don’t have the kind of friendship described in the book (maybe that’s why I wrote it…wish fulfillment in reverse?)


3. The book “In Her Shoes” is now also a film. Did the movie version meet your expectations?


I tried very hard not to have any expectations about the movie. I told myself that the book was the book, and whether the movie was good, bad, or unwatchable, it wouldn’t change a page of what I’d written. I ended up being absolutely thrilled with the movie – with the screenplay, for starters, and the casting, and the fact that they shot the Philadelphia scenes in Philadelphia, instead of dashing up to Canada with a papier-mache Liberty Bell.


4. You were a novelist first and now you have a blog. Do you have any advice to bloggers who are aspiring novelists?


Don’t blog if it feels like work – you’ll be miserable and the readers will be able to tell. Find a voice that feels natural, whether it’s your own or the voice of one of your characters, and please, please, please, don’t make every single post promotional, or a paean to your own excellence. Even if you think you’re being self-deprecating (“Best-selling Author Spends Afternoon De-Pilling Twinsets!”) too much of it comes across as grating and smug. Particularly if your ever post includes the phrase “best-selling author.”


5. Do you have a ritual that you go through before you start each book?


Heh. I have kids. Who has time for rituals, other than opening a new Word file?


6. Who are your favorite authors?


Susan Isaacs, Stephen King, Peter Straub, Anne Tyler, Nicholas Christopher, Katherine Dunn, Tabitha King,


7. What book or books are you currently reading?


Kate Christensen’s TROUBLE, Julie Metz’s PERFECTION, and Christopher Buckley’s LOSING MUM AND PUP.

About the book, Best Friends Forever- "Addie Downs and Valerie Adler will be best friends forever. That's what Addie believes after Valerie moves across the street when they're both nine years old. But in the wake of betrayal during their teenage years, Val is swept into the popular crowd, while mousy, sullen Addie becomes her schools scapegoat.

Flash-forward fifteen years. Valerie Adler has found a measure of fame and fortune working as the weathergirl at the local TV station. Addie Downs lives alone in her parents’ house in their small hometown of La Prairie, Illinois, caring for a troubled brother and trying to meet Prince Charming on the internet. She has just returned from Bad Date #6, when she opens her door to find her long-gone best friend standing there, with terrified look on her face and blood on the sleeve of her coat. "Something horrible has happened," Val tells Addie, "and you're the only one who can help."

Best Friends Forever is a grand, funny, edge-of-your-seat adventure; a story about betrayal and loyalty, family history and small town secrets. It’s about living through tragedy, finding love where you least expect it, and the ties that keep best friends together forever. "

A big THANK YOU to Jennifer for allowing me to interview her and review her book (Coming Soon! over at Mummy's Product Reviews!)

Overheards- The Bedtime Edition

H is sitting on the couch icing his swollen, bloody nose. He has just come home from his last sparring/training session before his fight on Saturday. Tonight I actually got to ask the question, "Is that your blood on your shirt?" Nice. Overhead we hear TD not settling down for a long nights sleep but instead thudding around in her room. She has already been told if she doesn't settle down action will be taken. Action that includes taking away her beloved stuffed rabbit, Cuppy.

Another thud can be heard coming from upstairs with a yell that can only be described as rebel-

H: I've been punched in the nose way too many times today to fuck around with that kid.

Guess that means I'll have to be the heavy tonight.

Fight Club at My House

"The first rule of fight club is that you do not talk about fight club."


A true gem of a film.

So it's not exactly fight club but on Saturday night H will enter a ring and fight his first boxing match. The past few months he has spent training for this event (Read: his dream/my nightmare). He would come home from training and sparring sessions looking like Edward-Isthatyourbloodonyourshirt?-Norton. How people viewed this all at his office I do not know. The black eyes, the swollen nose, the bruised chin and bloody lip. All of them have made me incredibly squeamish. It's one thing to watch a boxing match on TV and entirely another to see someone you love willingly get the crap punched out of them. Not that H will have that happen but I'm prepared for the worse. And possibly some new teeth. Heh.

Though how bad could it be? He's going to be wearing satin shorts.



The man still needs a song for his entry. Suggestions are welcome.

And in this corner....




Read about how we are 'The Lucky Ones' at DC Metro Moms today.

No, You May Not Frost My Cupcake

It's discussion time again and this week I'm posing a question about friendships, the relationships between men and women and what is appropriate and what is not. It's up to you. Read the issue, discuss in the comments and offer up your opinion.

You are sitting at your friends house and her husband makes a comment along the lines of, "I'd like to frost your cupcake..." or the classic "I'd like a (insert your name and your friends name) sandwich. Heh heh. (Insert a comment about how he might be into polygamy too)". It's not the first time he says things like this but because you don't want to embarrass your friend you smile and brush it off. She laughs it off each time as well. However, it just keeps happening.

What do you do? Do you continue to keep quiet for the sake of your friend? Do you take him aside later and confront the man? Or do you reprimand him for his behavior right there in front of his kids and wife?

Have at it!

Not a Wounded Antelope

Saturday 5:45 a.m.- my alarm goes off and my brain and body freeze up. Today is the day. Today I will run my first 5k. While I am sure my body can do it, my brain has decided it wants a monopoly on the whole thing and will go to any lengths to psyche me out of doing it. Stupid brain.


Initially, I was going to go up by myself and H and the girls would meet me later. Why drag them out at that ungodly hour too? However, The Comedian got up bright and early and before I was done showering and trying not to puke in my bathroom sink, she was ready to go. TD followed a bit later, wearing her "My Mom is Blogging This" t-shirt. Tweeting would be more like it. It was better that they came with me instead of me driving solo and freaking myself out about parking, traffic and of course, the race the whole drive up. That, my stomach did not need.


Once we got there I checked in, walked around, pinned on my number and tied my time-chip to my shoe. I looked around at the other runners and felt a bit intimidated. Everyone looked so serious. I found Bill, a local Shredhead and we got ready to head to the starting point. As we stood, stretched and figured out our placement in the crowd of runners it began to rain. The strains of the Rocky theme song did not help my mood. I wondered why I even thought I could do this. All this time I've been telling myself I'm a runner. I've been doing it on and off for years and suddenly I doubted if this was really the spot for me. Then I realized that others looked as doubtful as I did and seemed equally as nervous and it totally helped. I crossed over the start line, smiled for H and the camera and made sure I started at a nice, even pace.




About five minutes in I realized I was next to a mother and son duo. It must have been his first 5K as well because Mom was talking him up saying things like, "Keep a nice, even pace. Breathe and relax. You are doing just fine! Remember, humans are meant to run! We have always run so that we can chase down wounded antelope or run from Sabre Tooth Tigers!" Wounded antelope? Hm... "Which one of us runners is her sons wounded antelope" I pondered as I kept pace with an elderly woman with intensely white knees socks. Then I passed her. And I passed a few more people.


I got on the grass and passed a couple more as I found my rhythm and my mind went elsewhere. It began to pour. The rain came down in glorious buckets and it was all about keeping my pace and enjoying the moment. There were some tough hills. I worried I would slip on some wet grass at some points but as I made my way down the last big hill I knew I was in the clear. I could hear people cheering and I picked up speed. When a woman yelled out, "Only forty more seconds!" I smiled and ran faster. "Forty seconds my ass! In your face!" my brain screamed. Whoa. Where did that come from?


Suddenly there it was- the bright blue finish line. I ran harder and crossed it, trying to smile and not do the 'white-man's overbite' that I sometimes do when I run. I heard a pop and saw a flash and quickly sought out my family. H took pictures and asked, "What was your time?" Umm... what? Right.. forgot about that. Damn. Bill found us and it looks like he beat me. We wondered aloud how Kristen, another Shredhead did on her 5K that morning and we took our families out of the rain.


After about five minutes of panting H asked me what I thought of the whole experience and I said, "I want to do it AGAIN! I loved it! It was fast and easy!" So I am. I signed up for the BlogHer 5K on July 24 in Chicago and I can't wait!


And my official time? 33:29. It's better than I expected and I couldn't be happier.




Post-race. About 10 seconds after finishing.

Product Reviewer Welcomes You to Her World

7 a.m.- What the heck is that bizarre hellish chirruping noise? Almost like a chirping bird, almost like a mechanical cat tied in a sack being sent up river. I slam the array of buttons on the Alarm 3000 that I'm testing out this week hoping it shuts the damn thing up. Wait! Where the heck am I? I don't recognize the duvet cover I'm sleeping under. Oh right, I put a new one on last night from that store that only makes things out of bamboo and hemp. The indigo blue color is dyed by real ancient Phoenicians!

7:05 a.m.- In the bathroom jackhammering my teeth with the latest Sonic toothbrush and wishing I had some Novocaine or maybe anti-nausea medicine. This toothbrush might seek to eradicate gingivitis but it is also systematically wiping my gums clean out of my mouth! Only the cinder ash and baking soda toothpaste I'm trying out from 'Back to Basics' is worse than this pain.

7:15 a.m.- I trot downstairs and instead of juice and yogurt I give TD a squeezable pack of fruit puree. It's juice! Well, sort of. It's a snack! Maybe? I don't know what it is for but it is organic so why not, right? She also ingests a tube of pro biotic yogurt geared for kids that is a radioactive lime green color only a kid would love. I tell her to hurry up because it is back to the salt mines, er playroom for her again today. She's got DVD's to watch, kid video games to test out and some experimental play-doh/paint to get her hands all gooped up with. We've got work to do kid! Let's get crackin'!

8:00 a.m.- Down in the playroom TD is busy at her easel smooshing play-doh and trying her hand at Cubism with the play-doh/paint while working her way through her fourth DVD of the day. Her eyes are a bit glazed over and I'm sick of looking and hearing overly perky exotic animals belt out songs in fourteen different languages. Is it time to test out that new potato vodka yet?

9:13 a.m.- Time to shower! I test out the water and make sure I have everything I need to begin my own evaluations. Waterproof Notepad? Check. Pen? Check. I get in and begin to wash my face with the fifth cleansing lotion this month. Bonus! My skin isn't searing in burning pain this time! My eyes haven't puffed up from some horrific allergy either. I shave each leg with a different shaving cream and make notes. The ink from the pen isn't exactly sticking to the paper but I'm sure I'll remember that the scent of lilac and blueberries with a hint of organic is spot on for shaving my pits. Who wouldn't want lilac-blueberry scented pits with a hint of organic lime? Especially for the bargain price of $27.50! Who cares that you can only get it at one store in L.A. It's worth the $600 airfare just to experience the store itself isn't it?

9:42 a.m.- My hair is dried and styled. I'm wearing a ridiculous avant-garde style t-shirt that has shoulder pads and what is this? Puffy paint? Is that even still around these days? Whatever. I'll wear it for a bit and see if I get reactions from my neighbors as I walk to the mailbox. The doorbell rings and the FedEx man drops off four packages. All new products to review. Our dog barks waking up The Comedian.

10:12 a.m.- I settle down to work and realize I need to do some laundry because I have detergent to test out this week. I run downstairs to throw in a load and pour in the detergent. Mm... smells like lavender and thyme. Perfect! I check on TD who is literally knee-deep in band in a box toys to review. The racket is getting pretty loud as she seems to have made herself into a one-girl band.

10:45 a.m.- Typing away on a weekly blog post the doorbell rings and it is the UPS man. He drops off two boxes. One of them has dry ice in it. Looks like we got frozen sweet potatoes in the shape of smiley faces! Just in time for lunch. The dog barks at the UPS man and The Comedian wakes from her second attempt at a nap.

2 p.m.- Lunch has been served. The sweet potatoes were just fine. I've made copious notes and taken photos of TD noshing away on them. I've cleaned up the kitchen using a bottle of eye-wateringly strong all-purpose cleaner. One star. I feel like I may have to take a Silkwood shower after using that stuff. It's nap time for TD and we break out one of the new story books we received. This is one of the best parts of the job. Books!

2:37 p.m.- Both kids are napping and just in time for our post woman to drop off another set of DVD's for us to view. I'm a bit tapped out in the DVD department. They take up so much time and often times it just reaffirms what total crap is being produced and pawned off as kid entertainment.

I've written three reviews today, tested numerous products and I'm tapped out. Do I have any Calgon to review? Instead I head over to my Dulce Gusto for an instant caffeine fix. It isn't something I got for free but I will be reviewing it. I can't keep quiet about it, I love it so much. That's the thing. I've got the product review bug. I love trying new stuff and letting people know my honest opinion about it all whether I got it for free, I'm being paid or I bought it myself.

And yes, I really have reviewed many of these types of products.

Retching via my Blackberry

I was all set to blog about my nervous feeling regarding my impending 5k this weekend, a first for me. That is until something decided it wanted to make a bloody good mess of carving out my insides this morning.

At least that is what it felt like.

I did the whole doling out the vitamins routine, changed the night time diaper, made a spectacular batch of oatmeal for TD and then WHAM! Just as I poured the dog food the queasy stomach I had been nursing for the last day just sucker punched me and I was soon lying on the floor of my foyer in a soaking wet, cold sweat. TD, being the good and dutiful classic eldest child fetched me a pillow from the couch and used her step stool from the bathroom to reach my phone so I could call H and almost vomit into the phone at him. If the sound of your wife retching into a trashcan via her Blackberry doesn't move you I don't know what will.

The fetal position never felt so good. In minutes my t-shirt was soaked through and I didn't care that there seemed to be a lot of cracker crumbs coating my limbs as I lay prone on the floor. I just wanted the awful sick feeling to go away. At some point I managed to get up and give The Comedian a bottle. Poor kid was laying on the kitchen floor sucking away while I lay nearby taking deep, cleansing breaths.

I'm not feeling 100% but I'm keeping down some toast which is a plus. Also? I think I have developed a new fashion trend- Prada glasses and sweat-soaked, floor matted hair is the new grunge.

Seven Months

At this moment you are sound asleep in your sweet peace your heels forming a v-shape. Those little toes look so tiny and entirely edible. Your sister wants nothing more than to kiss you right now but I don't believe in breaking the cardinal rule of baby care, "Never wake a sleeping baby."

You are seven months old today and quite the contrary to how you look right now you are full of smiles, laughs and strong bursts of energy. Be warned however, you have strong competition in the cuteness department from your big sister. Yesterday she told me I was "her superhero" and that I "saved her" from the ginormous prehistoric cricket that was hell bent on dragging her into the depths of our basement. She was quite adamant on that last part.

Have You Seen My Rose-Colored Glasses?

The radio in the kitchen is playing its familiar morning radio show, the smell of coffee is wafting through the house and all the bags from our trip are unpacked. I stand completely amazed that we made it up to CT and back without much of a blip. Nothing blogworthy to write about in two whole eight hour drives. I just might have a place in parental history.

I want to say a big thank you to our fellow travelers at the Delaware rest stop who stopped by our lunch table to remark on what beautiful children I have. It brightened my day and gave me a bit more energy to get back into the car with my two "angels". It would have been even better if one of those fellow travelers had read my mind and gotten me a steaming hot latte from the nearby SBUX, but no worries.

This trip gets mixed reviews though for a few reasons. I wanted to head up to New England and relax and play with my kids on the beach but the weather was too cold and wet almost the entire trip. The girls had a rough time settling in the first few days and everyone either had a cold or was on the verge of one. We kept busy despite the rainy weather, traveling to different parts of CT and RI and visiting family. It proved to be all a bit more tiring than I imagined and I think the dreary weather did me in a tad, combined with the fact that while I'm excited for my parents to move closer (Read: ECSTATIC!) I will miss having them in a house that I have now begun to think of as a second home and one that gives me my New England fix on a regular basis. The declining health of my grandmother just about did me in all together though.

It is hard to see someone you love and who helped raise you no longer know who you are. I tried to have that whole "that's the circle of life" attitude but that didn't exactly pan out. It weighed on my mind quite a bit and a touch of sadness hung about me for most of the trip. I'm not the type of person who can sprinkle fairy dust on a situation and I tend to feel things a bit more than others sometimes. This is a woman I always wanted to be like and to see that very essence of her just disappear saddened me more than I could even anticipate and perhaps realized at the time. I feel as if I have walked into a room in my home and all the furniture has been removed, the pictures have been taken off the walls and everything is just devoid of emotion and memories and no one can give me an explanation as to why this has happened.

It made for a very disconnected feeling on my part and a deep yearning for the sun and hugs from H. Neither of which were attainable at the time. I couldn't wait to return home and find both. When we did come home it was as if the darkness just clung to me. My lack of ability to coat the world with the aforementioned fairy dust has made me unlikable it seems. There is a disconnect in my house because of this and it makes me angry. I'm not one to sweep emotions under a rug or save them for later. I never have been and I can't apologize for that and I don't see it as a character flaw.

I can make lemonade from lemons with the hardiest of them but I can't pretend very well and walk around wearing rose-colored glasses especially when the moment doesn't call for it. I'll be fine in a few days I'm sure. Every day life is already grabbing a hold of me and not allowing me stay in this for very long. However, I should be allowed to feel what I'm feeling and not have to make apologies or play Tinkerbell for someone else just to make it better for them.

All Full Up

It's time to pack it in, round up the cattle, er I mean, kids and head for home. I've had my fill of hot, tasty clam cakes. Ooh that salty, clamtastic goodness. Many photos have been taken of old seaside scenes and the oldest carousel has been ridden. I saw old friends, slept past nine, watched way too much VH-1 than can be healthy for my brain cells and had a whole bed to myself for a week.

I've eaten too much once again, gotten a bit side-tracked in my 5K training and I'm starting to get a bit freaked out that the race is in a mere six days. Today we return to the turnpike and brave the roads. Let's hope "the crazies" have decided to stay home.

I have no intention of believing that the trip home will be as easy as the trip up.

BONUS!!!!!!!!!!!!! COUPONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

23andMe COUPON- It is good for $50 off one DNA testing kit, the code expires Tuesday, June 16, 2009 at midnight (EST) and is only good for the first 10 people who use it in the 23andMe. The Code is: VCHGWG

$2 Underpants and an Early Bird Special

I'm wearing $2 Walmart underwear with a plastic peace sign hanging on them. Can you say teeny bopperesque? Yup. I'm going to admit it is the first time I've bought the big W underwear and I can only describe a lot of it as eye-searing tricktastic looking. The 3 a.m. hookers in the District might think it is too loud.

At 3:59 p.m. yesterday I realized that both my parents had whole dinner plates full of food in front of them and they were eating...um, dinner. I had dinner at 4 o'clock people! Isn't that earlier than the early bird special?

It is day four of intense clouds, rain and low temps. For my probable last trip up to the New England area it is kind of a bust. I'm missing the beach but the idea of dragging a baby and toddler to the cloudy sea is not an idea that is going to make a Parenting magazine vacation column any time soon.

The upshot? Country road runs with the classic New England stone walls and falling down barns. It is like a scene from Yankee magazine. Some ridiculously tasty food and the RI end cap at the local Stop n Shop was literally one stop shopping the other day when I picked up Autocrat and clam cake mix in one seconds time.

Dating Violence: Is Your Teen Getting the Message?

I was fourteen when I met a boy who I thought was of no consequence. I figured I would date him for a month tops and then it would be over. He was so persistent. Five years later I found myself sitting in a my university's counseling center sobbing uncontrollably over the monster that that relationship became. The one that tried to swallow me whole like it was some mutated Cracken from the sea. I got through it and came out stronger, vowing to tell my story and educate others from my experience.


Now Macy's leading the way with its support for the RESPECT! Campaign, which offers the tools parents need to define and promote healthy relationships, and intervene effectively if abuse begins. FVPF (Family Violence Prevention Fund) states-


"Teens across the United States are experiencing high levels of abuse in
their dating relationships, and not confiding in parents when abuse occurs. The
new poll, conducted for the Family Violence Prevention Fund (FVPF), finds that
nearly one in three teens report threats of violence, or sexual or physical
abuse. Nearly one in four report being victimized through technology, and nearly
one in two who are in relationships report being controlled, threatened, and
pressured to do things they did not want to do.

Yet, despite the fact that parents say they are talking to their children
about abuse, two in three daughters surveyed (66 percent) say they have not had
a conversation with their parents about dating abuse in the last year. Four in
five parents surveyed (82 percent) feel confident that they could recognize the
signs if their child was experiencing dating abuse, but more than half (58
percent) could not correctly identify all the warning signs of abuse. The
new survey also found that there appears to be a link between the economic
downturn and high levels of teen dating abuse."


The RESPECT! Campaign gives parents tools to define abuse and educate their children about healthy relationships. It also offers resources on how to effectively deal and intervene in an abusive situation.

Here are 10 Quick Tips on how to talk to your kids about healthy relationships. You can also purchase a $5 RESPECT bracelet from Macy's stores as well as going to the RESPECT! website and sending out ecards to your nearest and dearest. Each time you send a card the GBGB (Geoffery Beene Gives Back) will make a donation to our charity in your recipients’ name.

Help me get the word out!

Notes from the Road

Queue the ridiculously bad and entirely inappropriate except for the song title Barry Manilow song, 'Looks Like We Made It'

The girls and I had hit the road yesterday around 4:30 a.m. Typical of TD to stay awake for the whole drive and consume her weight in goldfish crackers while watching 'Bolt' two times in a row before screaming, "I just cannot watch Bolt again!"

To the woman at the Woodrow Wilson rest stop with the white fluffball of a dog: Thanks for telling me my kids are so well cute and well-behaved and all. However? So not cool to then dash into the bathroom ahead of us and take the only handicap stall. Thus leaving me, one antsy toddler and The Comedian in a baby carrier car seat to squish ourselves into a Jersey Turnpike single person bathroom stall. I like being close to my family and all but not ass in your face close.

To the people of Teaneck, NY sorry for the yelling. It was right at that point that TD had her meltdown screeching at the top of her lungs, "The cow isn't doing what it's supposed to in my book!!!! I can't get the yellow marker!!!" I'm sure you heard me scream out, "Don't make me turn this car around TD!" At which point I then burst out laughing at the insanity of it all.

Also, it seems I just drove eight plus hours to hit up a Walmart for some underpants. I forgot to pack them. Somehow though I did remember to pack every single nursing bra I own.

We've arrived. I've already ingested a few cups of tea and heard TD say, "I'm really glad we're here. I'm having a really good time." That makes the eight hour drive worth it.

Win a Free 23andMe DNA Kit!

Newsflash! An amazing giveaway is at your fingertips. First, a bit of business.

The various online communities that have been growing at the 23andMe website the last few months are anything but dull. I have had the privilege of having my whole family’s genetic information at my fingertips and I cannot believe how it never ceases to amaze me. As a founding blogger hired by 23andMe for their pregnancy community I feel like I fell down the rabbit’s hole of ancestral information and my own personal genetic history. It has made me reflect on my past two pregnancies in-depth and communicate with others. One thing is abundantly clear, no matter how similar we may seem on the outside with our experiences and relations we are all unique due to our environment and genetic make-up. It has truly been a gift working with the whole 23andMe group as well as all the talented bloggers. The information this test provides is priceless.

Now the big news- I am giving away a FREE DNA testing kit from 23andMe to one of my readers. It is a $399 value and it will give you access to detailed information regarding your health and traits complete with clinical research reports as well as your ancestral background. Who doesn’t want to know what haplogroup they come from?

To enter simply leave a comment on this post answering one of the following questions:

“Are there questions you have about your family history that genotyping would help you figure out?”

“Are you like me, someone who wanted to do the test so badly because there is a particular illness, trait or condition that plagues your family? The DNA test could help you find out if you are predisposed or not.” Let me know in the comments!

“Are you adopted and have a desire to know more about your background?”

I will choose one winner at random. All entries must be in by June 13, 12 PM EST. The winner can choose to use the service for them, or pass the kit on to a friend or family member. The contest is open to legal residents of the USA, ages 18 or older and the winner is responsible for any applicable taxes. Here’s a link to the official rules.

Remember: I cannot pick you as a winner if you do not leave a contact email in your comment. Good luck!


*Disclosure: I have been working as a contractor for 23andMe for the last few months. I received my genotyping kit free and have been paid to blog at 23andMe.


CONGRATULATIONS to n2myown02@yahoo.com for winning the 23andMe DNA Test kit!!

Road Trippin'

It's Friday and while I'm flummoxed by the whole Japanese rent-a-cat trend my mind is also wandering in the planning direction. My anal retentive list mania is peaking as I get ready for my first solo road trip with two kids. We leave next week and I think I have four separate lists going already. I'm OCD planner.

My parents think I have a death wish. My father asked me what I was trying to prove. Only a nutball would want to drive for eight hours with two small kids. I keep telling TD this will be some grand adventure. A grand adventure that will involve not kicking the back of the car seat, any yelling in the car and many, many snacks and DVDs. She thinks it sounds like quite the kick ass time.

Any advice about taking a trip like this with wee ones is appreciated. And no, Valium is not a valid suggestion. Though it does sound heavenly.

It's 385 miles to Connecticut, we got a full tank of gas, a full box of bunny crackers, it will be dark, and we'll be wearing pajamas. Hit it.

About an Hour in My Day

11:38 a.m.- "Come on TD, we have to get a move on! It's time to go to Gymboree!"
I glance at The Comedian and think, "I should change you...." and I scoop her up out of the Bumbo.

11:39 a.m.- "WTF? Oh all that is holy in this world, why now?! Seriously kid? This is disgusting!!" I moan. "What's disgusting, Mommy?" TD asks. "Your sister. She just pooped EVERYWHERE! I don't even know if I'm qualified to clean this type of mess up. I might need to make a few phone calls..."

11:41 a.m.- Poop. It is everywhere. I quickly move from the pack and play to the nursery. The shirt cannot be salvaged. Neither can the burp cloth I have laying on the changing table. I have already used about a days worth of wipes in the last two minutes. We don't have time for the tub. This is totally an unprecedented situation though. I have to pull The Comedian's arms out of her shirt and slide it down her body or else we'll have a poop in hair situation on our hands. There is now poop on the wall. The changing table is a bio-hazard area and I cannot seem to contain it.

11:50 a.m.- I have now tossed everything on the changing table- diaper, wipes, one entire outfit, a washcloth and two burp cloths into the trusted Diaper Genie. The Comedian has been washed, dried, lotioned back to sweet smelling baby status and is in a clean, poop-free outfit. At last. I scoop her up and walk to the bathroom to wash my hands. It is there that I see the most disgusting thing of all. There in not one but two spots on my pristine white shirt is poop. I HAVE POOP ON ME. "What if I had forgotten to wash my hands?" My brain screams. The answer: I would have walked into our first day at Gymboree as the Mom who didn't even notice she had fecal matter smeared on her shirt. Any future friends to be made there would have instantly disappeared. The poop would have stayed.

I dash upstairs and grab a shirt out of the clean laundry and very carefully take the offending shirt off and toss it into the laundry monster mess. I dash downstairs and like a POW camp leader order everyone into the car MOW! (Yes, I mean mow.)

12:06 p.m.- We are all buckled into the car and are on our way to Gymboree's 12:15 class.

12:10 p.m.- "Hey! Watch it! " I yell at a driver who swerved into my lane. I have to slam on my brakes and beep the horn as I simultaneously swerve almost entirely up onto a median to avoid this broad who has no knowledge of my giant SUV being next to her tiny two door. Grr... Inhale. Exhale.

12:15 p.m.- We made it! We make the long haul to Gymboree which is on the second floor of an office park. Really, Gymboree? The second floor? How thoughtful. The Comedian is not getting any lighter in her baby carrier and I will not scoop her out of it and wake her. This is her sister's time. Not hers.

12:45 p.m.- TD has had a tour, talked with some kids and I've gotten the gist from some Moms as well as some glowing reviews for Bubble Camp which TD starts on Monday. Praise the Gymboree geniuses who thought up that idea. $35 every Monday gets TD a full day of music, food, kid time, art classes and more. A FULL day. I am ecstatic for her and for me.

12:50 p.m.- Back in the car and driving to the post office across the street I have to slam on my breaks to avoid being hit by the beater car that has whipped around the corner. For reals people. I yell, "Watch it! You stupid a**hole!" To which TD replies, "Mommy! You shouldn't call people stupid a**holes. That's not very nice." Her pronunciation of key words is spot on. "I'm sorry TD. You are right. Mommy should not call people names and should not say the word a**hole. That is not nice. Thank you." "It's OK, Mommy. Just don't say a**hole anymore."

On the drive home a thought crossed my mind. "Hm... I never did check the Bumbo for poop...."

Later that day H informed me that he never needs to know about these horrific poop situations. I kindly informed him that indeed he does need to know. He absolutely needs to know.




Fun, Frugal Father's Day guide on Mummy's Product Reviews. Check it out!

It's also my final post on 23andMe. Sniff..sniff... I blog about my parents and I taking the test together in, A Family Affair, Read more....

I've Got Sweaty Wrists

I wouldn't call it sweating so much as it's dripping that I'm doing right now. I got the opportunity to go on a morning run today versus my normal evening jaunt. There is something so wonderful about starting the day literally hitting the pavement. Humidity has not yet set in and there is still a haze in the air. As I run on the trails and various sidewalks in my 'hood I can smell this sweet summery scent that just lifts my spirits and makes me inhale deeply. It is entirely uplifting.

That is until I decided to veer off my intended track and bypass a gaggle of women who were out for a morning stroll. And when I say stroll I use that term quite lightly. It was more like a creep. Suddenly I found myself doing my final minutes up the biggest hill in my neighborhood. I had The White Stripes screeching in my ears and the ear worm known as Jillian Michaels/my new subconscious motivator barking at me from my brain and yet I was barely making it. My feet just did not want to step off the ground. The knees were not springing up. It was like each step I took was into a mess of hot, sticky bubblegum.

Incidentally, as I type this my wrists are sweating onto the keyboard. My wrists are sweating, people. Sick! I smell like a fourteen year-old boy who hasn't showered in a week. Blech! I glared at my watch and noticed I had three minutes left. I groaned loudly cursing the running gods. Another runner whizzed by me leaving me in his sweaty wake and I got annoyed. I wasn't going to be seen as some slow as molasses in January barely making it runner. Nope! I huffed and puffed up the end of the hill and found myself on a nice downward slope for the last few minutes. Ah! Bliss! The wind was in my hair and the sun was shining on my face again. The fact that a giant woolly dog came dashing out at me growling and baring his fangs. Yes, fangs didn't even deter me.

The run is done. I can start my day. Which really should begin with a nap.

McCafe is What is Wrong with America

Have you seen the most recent McDonald's McCafe commercials where they take your ordinary humdrum words like commute and shuttle and add an accent on the 'e' and suddenly it makes everything all better?

That commercial right there is kin the Dunkin Donuts tagline, "America Runs on Dunkin'", which just screams at me so much that is wrong with our country. We are all about the quick and dirty, easy peasy instant gratification way of doing things. We want it when we want it and we don't want to wait for something that might be better for us. I see commercials like the McCafe ones and not only do I want to hurl something at my television for butchering our language but I just groan with how Americans think we can just keep going like this always looking for a shortcut and cheaper alternative.

Blech.

Maybe I'm reading to much into it. However, when I hear John Goodman's voice saying, "America runs on Dunkin'" I just cringe.

Splish Splash I Hate the Pool

I'm just going to admit this up front- I hate the pool.

My husband? He seems to love the pool. I've actually begun to dread this time of year as of late because I know it means only one thing. He is going to want to go to the pool.

Do I hate the pool because it means I have to get into a bathing suit? No.

Do I hate the pool because of the tons of screaming children and loud cannon balling teenagers? A bit.

Do I hate the pool because the women's locker/rest room is a stinkin' hive of germs and wet toilet paper on the floor but never on the roll where it belongs and out of the three toilets usually only one is flushed? That one? It usually has a brown mucky poop-laced water on the floor around it. YES! YES! I hate the pool for that reason. I feel like TD and I need a round of shots kin to going to a Third World country just to take a piss. I can't help but wonder if the men's room is cleaner because a majority of kids and Mom's don't frequent it.

Also? I love the idea of the pool. I love sitting in the sun, reading a good book or magazine and just lounging. However, with two tiny wonders to entertain it often requires a steamer trunk of gear plus snacks and constantly being vigilant. Oh and getting in the water. Brr... Me no likey.

And let's face it. My sun worshipping days are over now that I've had two skin cancer debacles under my belt. Now I have to be content to slather on the high SPF and cover myself up. I loathe.

But I go because in some way it is relaxing, minus the poop water bathroom. It's free, family fun and it makes H and the kids happy. The saying may be, "if Momma ain't happy..." but it also applies to Dad's as well.


I've been busy-

I get all sappy at DCMM, 'Learning to Cherish the Small Stuff."
I talk about hitting my mid-30's at Honest Baby, 'You are in your mid-30's if...'
At 23andMe I'm talking about my 'Jimmy Leg's- "Throughout both my pregnancies I suffered from a case of the ‘Jimmy legs’ also known as Restless Leg syndrome (RLS)." Read more...