Rise Up with Fists!

I don't typically do this, but sometimes something feels important enough to share with as many people as possible, so I am republishing a message I received from MOMS Rising, the leading national advocacy organization for women, children, and families.

There are always many worthy issues being upheld by MOMS Rising, but this one in particular enrages me. To see huge corporations profiting at the expense of our children is, to me, one of the most heinous, offensive acts imaginable. Yet, it happens every single day. If that weren't the case, not only would toys, sippy cups, baby bottles, diapers, and the cars we drive not be filled with nasty, carcinogenic, and otherwise deadly toxins, they'd still be made in America. Even more egregious is that our government creates an environment of entitlement for these corporations and manipulates the rules to let them get away with what amounts to murder. Worse yet? Us. We let our government and the mega-corporations that actually run our country get away with it.

We do this, of course, not because we don't care about our health or the health of our children. But because we're tired and lazy. Because it's too hard to care when you're struggling just to survive and when the public relations arms and lobbyists for these companies are spewing disinformation designed to make you think their products are safe and that they're just poor business owners being maligned by the liberal media while they're just trying to make a living.

Yes, it's exhausting getting by day to day and paycheck to paycheck as most Americans live. We shouldn't be asked to take on fighting an uphill, never-ending battle against evil men (and women) who would profit on the health and safety of our families (and their own). But, if we don't fight it, who will? Who cares more about your own children than you do (Yes. God does, but that's not the discussion we're having today.)?

Anyway, here's the information I received from MOMS Rising:

As if the price of gas wasn't bad enough, now Exxon Mobil is aggressively lobbying to defeat our efforts to ban phthalates, a toxic chemical, from kids' toys.

Hundreds of independent, peer-reviewed scientific studies that have been generated since the 1970s link phthalate exposure to serious health effects including reduced testosterone levels, lowered sperm counts, early puberty in girls, and genital defects in baby boys.

Tell Congress not to prioritize Exxon Mobil's profits over our kids' health:

http://www.momsrising.org/ban_phthalates

Why is Exxon Mobil using its deep pockets to fight the efforts of moms and dads to ban phthalates from kids' toys? It's simple. Exxon Mobil is one of the world's largest producers of DINP -- the primary plasticizer used to make soft plastic kids toys. Banning phthalates would be bad for Exxon Mobil's business. But I'm not too worried about their profit margin, last year they broke the record for profits earned by a U.S. corporation -- $40.6 billion.[1]

Last month, you sent over 19,000 letters to Congress which helped convince one key undecided member -- Rep. Diana DeGette -- to go on record in support of a ban on toxic phthalates in children's toys. Now we need only two more votes to win passage of this critical measure. Please send letters to the four members of the House Conference Committee who are still undecided.

http://www.momsrising.org/ban_phthalates

Let's show Exxon Mobil that they are no match for the moms and dads of this country. Through the efforts of MomsRising.org members and our aligned organizations, we are shaking the halls of Congress with our demands for swift action to protect our kids from toxic toys and other children's products. And our leaders are listening. We have achieved a critical moment where the will of people and political actions of our leaders are finally coalescing to create a strong response to toxic toys.

Right now, a House/Senate Conference Committee is meeting to finalize the Consumer Product Safety Commission Reform Act (CPSC) Act which will strengthen our nation's protections against toxic toys. We have a critical window in the next two weeks to add the Feinstein Amendment to the CPSC, restricting the use of six toxic phthalates in children's toys.

Please take a minute to forward this message to your friends and family. The more letters we send to Congress, the more impact we will have. Thanks again for your incredible work to move Congress to finally take action to prevent toxic toys from reaching our children!

Donna, Kristin, Joan, Roz, Katie, Mary, and the MomsRising.org Team

[1] http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/01/business/01cnd-exxon.html

P.S. For information about how to reduce your child's exposure to toxic chemicals see,

http://www.environmentcalifornia.org/environmental-health/stop-toxic-toys/recommendations-for-parents

http://www.healthytoys.org

P.P.S. For more information about phthalates, click here,

http://www.breastcancerfund.org/site/pp.asp?c=kwKXLdPaE&b=4132341

Happy Sunday

Last week was a busy one and I was left with little time to write. It involved car trouble, a show at Chastain Park, work, reading three books which I plan to review for you this week, and Scott's show at Kavarna last night.

Scott was fantastic and the crowd was great. Jim Combs, who is one of the organizers of the Atlanta Songwriter's Series, played first as Sensitive Chaos. Electronic or ambient music isn't something I know a lot about (make that anything), but I really enjoyed what he did. It was really nice and relaxing.

One of the acts dropped out because it was going to be too expensive for him to drive in from North Carolina, so Scott got to play a longer set than he had thought, so he invited our friend Mark Wenthe, from Athens band Dusty Lightswitch to play with him. Mark's an amazing guitarist and he played on the last few songs with Scott adding some nice flavor.

If you're interested, you can download and listen to the show here.

If you're a musician looking for a place to play in the Decatur area, I'd definitely say check out Kavarna. They're great people and the sound in the room is really fantastic. And if you're a fan, this was a great place to listen to live music. They serve up a really interesting variety too.

Eudora June who played after Scott was great. She had a little more of a bluesy feel and I really liked her voice.

So, another week down. A new one beginning. I hope this one proves more productive, lets me have more fun with the kids, and is less tiring. And lets me write more.

Georgia On My Mind

Hey, Georgia Bloggers!

Do you know about the Georgia Bloggers' Carnival? It's hosted and organized each month by Georgia History Teacher on her blog, Georgia On My Mind. Other Georgia Bloggers' sometimes take a stab at hosting the event on their blogs as well. Anyone who lives in Georgia or writes about Georgia is welcome to submit his or her blog to the general blogroll. And if you have a post about something going on in Georgia, Georgia people, places, or fabulous things, you can submit your post to the carnival as well.

I was going to post a cool graphic link, but the HTML is broken and I don't have a clue how to fix it, so...Sorry, y'all! Nothing pretty to look at today. But do go check out all that peachy goodness.

Borrowed Time

A while ago I had mentioned that I wanted to get my life more organized and to have things operate more efficiently. As I am not naturally a systematic thinker, but more a fly by the seat of my pants kind of girl, this has been a struggle.

Two and a half years ago, before I got pregnant with Beckett, I began using the FlyLady routines and that helped me tremendously. As I've said before, though, my morning sickness and first trimester exhaustion knocked me off my routines and I just never got back into it.

For the last week or two, I've been using the Messies Anonymous method. It's similar to FlyLady in terms of de-cluttering your home. In fact, I'm not really sure that there's much difference at all. MA really does focus on folks who might be considered chronically disorganized. But two of the philosophies of the group really have clicked with me and seem to be making a difference in making all the housework required to keep this show on the road a bit easier.

The first rule is kind of obvious to those of you who got the neat gene: Stow as you go. Simple, right? I just always thought why stop what you're doing to put things away when you can come back and do it when you're finished with whatever else you're working on. The problem is that there are too many distractions. Later somehow never comes. I've been following this rule and it's making a ton of difference.

The other rule is If it takes less than 30 seconds to do, go ahead and do it. The same logic applies. Later never comes, so you might as well do it now.

These two philosophies along with their mantra of babysteps are really helping me.

Yesterday, I was able to keep our kitchen and living room clean all day without doing anything major to them. I cooked three meatloaves – one for us, one to freeze, and one for a friend who just had a baby – a large pot of green beans, and homemade mashed potatoes, and made cupcakes, and had everything in the dishwasher or cleaned and put away by 7:30. I got both boys in the tub, and although Beckett didn't make it to bed until 9 p.m., Brendan was in his bed by 8:30.

Scott and I were able to hang out and talk while he played Wii and I worked out for the first time in ages.

My big hang up has been that it takes so long to clean up and get the boys in bed after dinner. Scott doesn't get home until after 7 most nights and he's worn out from his day and has work of his own that needs to get done. I have felt like I was worn out and brain dead by the time I would get dinner on the table, fight with Brendan over eating, get the dishes in the sink, get the boys bathed and in bed. Then I would have to come back to the kitchen to clean, by myself, which is a lonely place to be when your husband is upstairs trying to recover from his long day. I hated it, so many nights, I'd just get everything in the sink, put away the leftovers, and leave everything else 'til morning. Then, I'd wake up behind the gun with a dirty kitchen. And so the cycle would continue.

These last several days of waking to a clean, uncluttered kitchen and living room have been wonderful. I feel much more in control and relaxed. On Saturday, when I woke to a sink full of dishes left from preparing food to take to a party Friday night, I felt de-energized and despondent all day.

I hope I can keep up on this path of getting things done. We'll see. I am definitely a convert to taking care of things as you go along instead of letting it pile up. It seems to be making all the difference.

Pictures of You

My creation
Originally uploaded by belleoftheblogATL

This looked like a lot of fun to me, so I am shamelessly stealing this from Rennratt, who stole it from Wordnerd.

The pictures represent the answers to the following questions*:

1. Your Flickr name:
2. One word that describes you:
3. What you love most in life (my picture here is missing one thing):
4. What you want to be when you grow up:
5. Your favorite dessert:
6. Location of your dream vacation:
7. Your favorite drink:
8. Your celebriity crush:
9. Favorite color:
10. What school you attended (I went for high school for some reason):
11. Favorite food:
12. First name:

Okay. So that was really fun! Even though I did things backwards. But give it a go and let me know when you post yours. I'd love to see your answers.

Here's what you do:
Go to Flickr. Search for the answers to the questions. Choose a picture that best reflects your answer. Fave it. Make the mosaic.


*The questions were originally in the reverse order, but when I made my mosaic, they came out in the opposite order, so I reversed the list when I printed it here.

Knowledge is Power: June's Perfect Post

I know. We mommy bloggers write about being referred to as just a mommy and losing our identities ad infinitum.

A., of A., Woman of Independent Means, one of my favorite daily reads, recently wrote one of the most encouraging posts for other moms I've read in a long time.


She wins my vote for June's Perfect Post. You can check out the entire list at Suburban Turmoil or Petroville.

She may not have intended it as such, but for me, at least, it was a wonderful reminder of the ways being a mom has made me smarter and opened my world to things I wouldn't have known about otherwise.

I don't necessarily consider myself an "expert" in many of these, but I have learned an incredible amount of information that I didn't have before I became a parent in each of these subjects:

pregnancy
pregnancy complications
miscarriage
chromosomal abnormalities (specifically Trisomy XX8)
pregnancy nutrition
fertility awareness method
natural childbirth choices
doulas
midwifery
the dangers of modern medicalized childbirth
postpartum depression
breastfeeding
feeding choices
teething
Thomas the Tank Engine
Pokemon
SpiderMan
Marvel Comics
educational choices


There are many more things that I've learned as a mom. Most important of all,though, is experiencing the capacity for the heart to grow ever larger to hold all the love that pours in the instant you hold your tiny newborn for the first time.

Thanks, A., for reminding us that although we may feel like we lose a large chunk of our brains, we're actually learning all the while.

Hey Bulldog!

On Friday evening, UGA VI, the beloved University of Georgia mascot, died. A couple of years ago, I had the great privilege of interviewing UGA's owners, Sonny and Cecelia Seiler, for Atlanta Dog Life magazine.

I'm publishing that story here now in honor of UGA. Even if you're not a college sports fan or a Georgia fan, the story of how the UGA tradition came to be is sweet and endearing.

When Cecelia Gunn met Sonny Seiler during the University of Georgia’s annual “Stunt Night”, the two could never have predicted the impact their meeting would have on the university they both so dearly loved.

Wed on a fall Saturday in 1955 in Columbus, Ga., the Seilers celebrated their nuptials by flying to Florida for the Georgia-Florida football game. “Georgia lost and it nearly ruined the honeymoon,” Cecelia reveals.

A few months later, in April 1956, a family friend of Cecelia’s named Frank Heard called the couple and told them he had a wedding gift for them: a solid white English Bulldog puppy. The Seilers accepted the gift, moving him into their cramped apartment. They named the dog UGA – an acronym for the University of Georgia -- at the suggestion of one of Sonny’s law school friends, Billy Young. Sonny recalls that for many months UGA was a gangly pup. “He looked more like a Boxer than a Bulldog.” However, by fall, he had begun to fill out his frame with the classic Bulldog stockiness.

That September, on a lark, the couple took their young pup with them to a pre-game party at the Sigma Chi house where Sonny had been a member. It was the day of Georgia’s first home game that season. Wearing a child-sized t-shirt with an appliquéd letter “G” that Cecelia had made for him, UGA was the hit of the party. He proved so popular that the Seilers decided to take him to the game. According to Sonny, a few sportswriters saw the dog in the stands and soon photographs of the adorable Bulldog pup with the cute clothes and the perfect name made their way into local papers. And so, a family pet was on his way to becoming one of the most recognized and beloved icons in the history of football.

Fifty years later the tradition set in motion that autumn day proves stronger than ever. A brand new documentary called “Damn Good Dog” celebrates the life and accomplishments of the six Bulldogs named UGA, following the history of the Seiler family and their canine companions. Likenesses of UGA abound, from figurines to wall art, stuffed animals to your basic college sweatshirt. Despite whatever your own college affiliation may be, if you live in Georgia, there’s no escaping the presence -- or impact -- of UGA.

But what is life really like for this family dog turned celebrity mascot? If UGA VI, the current University of Georgia mascot, could talk, he’d probably tell you that life is good and being UGA is a pretty good job…if you can get it.

Each of the six Bulldogs from UGA I through UGAVI has been raised and treated as a family pet, living at the Seilers’ home, napping on the couch, playing with first their children and now their grandchildren. Because the dogs are their pets, the Seilers have always been responsible for their care and upkeep, from food to vet bills. And, as UGA's managers, so to speak, they have also always been responsible for getting him to the games, driving from Savannah to Athens for home games and ensuring he’s available to travel with the team to away games.

The Seilers continued to take UGA to games throughout that first fall. Soon, the university’s Sports Information Director, Dan Magill, became aware of the solid white Bulldog. When the time came to make an official selection of a new mascot, Magill recommended to Athletic Director Wally Butts that UGA receive the job. The fact that UGA was a direct descendant of the team’s Rose Bowl mascot from several years prior helped seal the deal. Sonny Seiler, who worked in the Athletic Department ticket office, recalls being called to Butts’s office. “My first thought was ‘What have I done to get fired?’.” When he actually spoke to Coach Butts, Seiler was relieved to find out Butts simply wanted to ask him his thoughts on having his dog become the football team mascot. “I was honored,” Seiler says humbly.

The Seilers took their commitment to the university seriously. When the time came for them to move back to Savannah at the end of Sonny’s third year of law school, Sonny met with Coach Butts to explain how much UGA meant to their family and to suggest that the family be allowed to keep the dog, with the commitment to be at every game. “Our oldest daughter Swann had come along at that point. So I explained to Coach Butts that this dog had become an integral part of our family. I said, ‘He and my little girl are growing up together and I would like to propose that you let us keep him and I promise I will have him at every game.’ Coach Butts just smiled and said, ‘Sounds like a good idea to me, Sonny.’”

From that point on, a succession of Seiler family pets have served as the University of Georgia mascots, sharing in the triumphs and glories, as well as in the more challenging times. Each dog – hand-picked by Cecelia Seiler from pups born of the same bloodline extending back to UGA I – has had his share of accomplishments. UGA I launched the legacy, earning the epithet “Damn Good Dog” when the crowd spontaneously erupted into that chant at his retirement ceremony. UGA II had the briefest tenure, but enjoyed two SEC titles (1966, 1968). UGA III, who served from 1973 until 1980, seems to have brought the team the most success, with two SEC titles (1975, 1980), a National Championship (1980), and the most victories over ranked opponents (12). UGA IV became the first team mascot to attend the Heisman Trophy awards in 1982, when he flew to New York aboard Delta Airlines along with teammate and eventual winner of the award, Herschel Walker.

Yet, it was UGA V who gained the most notoriety of any of the dogs. Although the UGAs have always been beloved icons within the state, symbolizing the gumption and determination of the school’s Bulldog Spirit, UGA V was cast into the national spotlight the day in 1996 he lunged at Auburn running back Robert Baker. On the final play in the first quarter of the game, Baker scored on a six-yard pass that put Auburn ahead. As Baker ran out of bounds into the end zone, UGA V lunged at the player’s groin, standing on his hind legs and straining to reach Baker. According to Charles Seiler, UGA’s handler and the Seilers’ only son, the dog was merely being playful. To Georgia fans and the nation at large who saw the scene replayed over and over again on ESPN and in photographs printed in countless sports pages, the image of UGA going after an Auburn player represented the relentless spirit with which Georgia takes on one of its fiercest rivals every season. The dog’s popularity soared even further when Sports Illustrated named him “America’s Best College Mascot” in April 1997. His appearance playing his dad, UGA IV, in the Clint Eastwood-directed thriller “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil,” also added to his fame.

Still, each dog has been “treated just like a dog at home,” according to Cecelia. And of course, each family member has had his or her own favorite. Oldest daughter Swann grew up with UGA I and recalls that he followed her everywhere. To her, he was “the most loving of all the UGAs.” Mom Cecelia favored IV for his “perfect” looks while proud papa Sonny says that he does not have a favorite. “I loved them all and miss them all. They’re pets and they’re all very dear to me,” he says.

Over the last fifty years the family has loved and been loved by six truly great dogs, each adding his own unique contributions to the UGA legacy. They have stood beside each dog, loving and nurturing them through health crises, like UGA II’s near-death experience with heatstroke following Picture Day and the battle with leukemia that ultimately took his life. UGA III suffered from dry-eye, a condition common among English Bulldogs, and required surgery to place a saliva gland in his eye for tear production. Charles Seiler recalls, “UGA III would cry whenever he smelled food.”

Thanks to the University of Georgia School of Veterinary Medicine and medical advances, each successive UGA has enjoyed better health. Thanks to the Seilers they, like many modern dogs, enjoy the finest in creature comforts. The last several UGAs have enjoyed the comfort of their own air-conditioned doghouses. UGA VI, the reigning mascot, even rides in ease with his own custom-designed luxury golf cart, thanks to EZ-Go Golf Carts. According to Sonny, UGA recognizes the sound of the cart’s engine and starts barking excitedly, ready to go for a ride.

Sonny Seiler vows that his family will carry on the tradition of raising and caring for the school mascot as long as the university welcomes it. The family receives no compensation for its efforts and donates all royalties from UGA’s activities and endorsements to the University of Georgia. In fact, they even buy their own season tickets to football games. Clearly, this is a family truly committed to its dogs and its alma mater.

Long live the Seilers! Long live these Damn Good Dogs!

William Tell

Remember the mom with the funny song to the tune of the William Tell Overture (or if your memory is like mine The Lone Ranger theme song)?

Well, her name is Anita Renfroe and I just learned she's from right here in the ATL, y'all. She's doing full-time standup now, touring, and she just released a new DVD. Can you imagine, going from la-la-la, I'm a stay-at-home-mom and I write witty little songs about my life and the goofy things my kids do to I'm a full-time, on tour, stand-up comedienne with my own d-buh-d, as my son would say.

Actually, I guess I can imagine that, because I would love for that to happen for Scott's musical career.

Here's some of her new act. (She's being sponsored by LUVS Diapers, who by the way, have a limited-time coupon on their web site for $5 off their diapers. ) I don't know if you recall, but I got some free samples of LUVS quite some time ago and was really pleasantly surprised by them. I actually have to go out of my way to find them since they don't sell them at Publix here, but I may have to. Lately everything leaks on Beckett and those are one of the brands that don't leak on my little chunkamunk. If only they made pull-ups.

Alright, enough! Here's the video:

Look Out Cleveland

Apropos of nothing, I thought I'd let those of y'all in the ATL know about a couple of my honey's upcoming gigs.

He'll be playing at Kavarna in Decatur/Oakhurst on July 12. This should be a great show. It's part of the Atlanta Songwriters' Showcase and he'll be playing with Jim Combs, Eudora June, and Moses Atwood.

He's also playing at a very new, very cool space called Underneath on July 26. Underneath is a listening room built and run by the guitarist for the band Vortex Park. It's the ideal place for acoustic music... seats 32, professional light and sound, stage. And for the guests, your ticket price includes beer and wine. Oh yeah. Good times, y'all!

Seriously, though, you might not be able to find a more intimate venue in this town short of a friend's living room. If you enjoy good music and you believe in supporting local music, I strongly encourage you to come to this show. You can get your tickets here.

And, my beloved loyal readers, you'll get to meet me! How cool would that be?

Oh yeah! And if you are one of my deeply appreciated and loyal readers and you're not in Atlanta, please pass this on to your music lovin' friends who do reside here and encourage them to come.

Different But the Same

How is it that two children borne of the same parents, with the same essential genetic makeup, can be so very different? Night and day may be a cliché, but if the cliché fits....

This morning in the wee, wee hours, Beckett awoke in tears, gums aching with the pain of sharp new baby teeth poking through their delicate surface. At 2 a.m. I was in his room, giving him Tylenol and a bottle. He had already awoken at 12:15 screaming with what we thought at the time was a nightmare. Scott brought him into our bed where he cuddled sleepily, chewing the tail of his beloved puppy dawg and giving us the sweetest smiles. When he seemed sleepy enough I put him back in his crib and he settled in cuddling his doggie.

Just as I was drifting off while watching Conan interview a stripper bellydancer, I was snapped back to the here and now with more screaming. This time, I went in and just tried stroking his hair and he settled down, until I walked out his door to go back to bed. I thought, "He always puts himself back to sleep, so I'll just let him cry it out and he'll be fine." Ha!

He cried for over 10 min. and I couldn't take it. Even burying my head couldn't help me escape. This is entirely unusual for Beckett who has been an excellent sleeper from day one. So, I ended up, back in Beck's room. This time I brought the big guns. Tylenol. A bottle. And cuddly time.

I lifted him from the crib and we settled in the cozy blue velvet chair in his room where we sit to read before his nap every day. I just cradled him in my arms and stroked his hair and forehead while he smiled sleepily up at me and played with my face. He talked softly to him and massaged his jaw and cheekbones. Before long he was very relaxed and starting to drift off so I put him back into his bed where he settled in peacefully and was asleep almost instantly.

With Brendan, I would have been up until 5 a.m. He would never let me sit and cuddle him and ease him back into sleep. He would have screamed at the top of his lungs the entire time, taking the bottle, but batting away the Tylenol. Instead of sitting quietly and rocking, I would have had to pace the floor until I was ready to drop. Each time he quieted and I would try to sit with him or place him back into his crib, he would start screaming again. And this would repeat until I finally just gave up and put him down on the floor with some toys, lying down beside him, and praying he would wear himself out quickly.

And this went on for three years, more or less.

Why are they so different?

There are many other ways.

By this age, Brendan was playing much more independently. He was taller and thinner. Their interests, too, were very different. Brendan has always noticed details. From the time he was six months old he would look up at the sky and point out airplanes, helicopters, birds, and bugs. He would pick flowers and give them to me and point at any little thing that caught his eye and want us to tell him what it was. And he's still like that today.

Beckett could walk past an airplane parked in the driveway and not notice it I think. He's much more about the experience of things. He's very physical and wants to climb on everything, including you.

I'm just constantly amazed at how different two members of the same family can be, especially siblings. Still, they are alike in one very important way.... They both exhibit a very great capacity to show love and joy. They both love each other very much and have fun together. So for now, their differences don't really matter.

They just fascinate me. And sometimes I wonder if it's that they are so very different or if it's me who's changed.

So, I'd love to know if you see major differences in your children. Are you and your siblings different? How did those differences affect your relationship? Did your parents try to make you or your siblings more like one another or compare you?

Jesus Loves the Little Children

Have I told you all how much I loved going to Vacation Bible School when I was a child?

Well, if I haven't, you should know that going to VBS was the highlight of my summer for several consecutive summers. There were a few years when I went to the one at my church and one at the big new Church of Christ in my hometown. I don't know exactly what it was, but I loved going.

Brendan is going to VBS this week at our church. It's a very different experience than the one I remember, but even better.

At our church it isn't actually called Vacation Bible School. It's called Kaleidoscope.

It's a huge program with probably 200 kids ranging in age from 4 to 12. Each age/class is designated as a different country or ethnic group. The children spend the week learning about their country and how Catholics in that country or that particular group worship God. If Christianity is not the dominant religion in that country, they may briefly touch on the other religions and how they worship God. They learn about the saints from that country. Culture. Food. Art and Music. It's really neat.

Last year – Brendan's first attending – he was a Native American. This year, his class is Ireland. I've loved hearing him tell me about how St. Patrick chased the snakes out of Ireland with his drum; about how a leprechaun has wrecked the classroom every day when the kids have left for snack time; his interpretation of the story about Jesus and Zacchaeus (it involved Zacchaeus stealing everyone's money and Jesus telling him to give it back.).

I don't guess he's going to become Pope overnight or anything, but I love that this experience has him thinking about and relating to God on a level he can understand. The one thing I really dislike about our church is that there is no Sunday School for children who haven't started Kindergarten yet. And I haven't met a 4-year or 5-year old yet who can sit through a homily and get much out of it. So, Kaleidoscope offers a terrific opportunity for the younger kids to connect in a way that makes sense to them.

Of course, Brendan tends to focus on the outrageous aspects of any thing he learns or hears. This week I've had to answer questions about who killed Jesus and why, whether or not St. Patrick was killed, as well as whether or not a leprechaun would wreck Santa's workshop. He also informed me that Santa has a factory, not a workshop.

I can't wait to hear what he comes home with today.

The Parting Glass

In one of those other lives I would have loved to lead if I hadn't stumbled into this one, I would have been involved in politics somehow. Probably as a reporter. My idols are Molly Ivins, Cokie Roberts, Mark Shields, Al Hunt, Bob Schieffer, James Carville, Paul Begala, and George Stephanopolous. And of course, Tim Russert.

His death saddens me more than I could have imagined the death of someone I didn't know personally could. I literally sat at a traffic light and bawled when I heard on Friday evening that he had died.

Tim Russert took over Meet the Press in 1991, just when I was becoming immersed in politics as an adult. I have always been a news and politics junkie. I remember watching the evening news as a very small child and asking my grandmother questions and listening as the adults around me talked politics. It sure seemed to happen a lot more back then than it does in my life now.

My whole life, politics has mattered to me, but it was when I graduated from college and saw how politics was not just some idealistic belief system that affected other people, but rather, was something that had a direct impact on my life that I really became impassioned.

Russert was there. One of the first pundits I looked to to learn from and hear discussions that didn't dance around a matter, but delved deeply into the essence of whatever the discussion was, whether it was universal health care or war in the Middle East or simply being a decent human being.

I think Tim Russert was probably one of those people who really is just too good for this world. By all accounts he was exactly the kind of guy you would want as your son, your father, your husband, or your pal.

I feel awful for his wife, his son, and of course, his dad. I can't imagine what life would be like after losing someone who clearly had such a big and impactful personality. It's a space that can't be filled.

I think the world is a little less nice knowing that such a good-hearted, joyful, passionate person no longer resides here. But I bet Heaven just got a little smarter.

Going to the Chapel

I don't know a lot of folks getting married or burying themselves deep in their wedding planning these days.

If I did, I would tell them about this new organization I just learned about today: it's called I Do Foundation. With the tagline, Celebrate Generously, I Do Foundation makes it easy for brides and grooms (and their guests) to give to their favorite charity in honor of their wedding day.

Right now, brides and grooms creating bridal registries with Target, Cooking.com, REI, or Linens and Things, can give up to 10% of the purchase price of gifts bought off their registries to the charity of their choice.

How cool is that?!

I understand that giving is supposed to be a sacrifice and should teach us something real about the nature of giving and maybe even ourselves. But I also like it when companies find unique ways of giving that allow us to feel good about shopping with them.

So, if you have friends or families planning their weddings right now, let them know about this easy way to turn their wedding into a gala fundraiser for their favorite charity.

None of Us are Free

I suspect that if I were receiving a report card today, it would say does not play well with others. And after reflecting on this, I think I've always been this way, to some extent.

I do not like being part of a team. I want to be given a project and told to go at it. If I have to work with someone else, I want them to do their part and let me do mine and for them to keep their mouths shut and not tell me what they think about my work. And I'll do the same.

Now, why am I on about this, you ask? Well, I started a new job. There's the boss, who can give me feedback. That's part of the inherent, unspoken contract between a boss and an employee. There's a tech guy. And there's me... the marketer, the writer.

The tech guy thinks he can criticize my writing. And that pisses me the hell off. Especially when the writing is on a blog.

Ah ha! That was an example of exactly the thing he'd criticize... a sentence fragment.

I'll be more specific. I have a new job as the part-time marketing director for a small company. I am writing a blog on the subject matter of that company. I have worked with the tech guy on the blog because it's on WordPress at his suggestion and I am finding WordPress very user-unfriendly and ugly and it doesn't handle text well, etc. So, I've lots of questions.

Because it's a blog and I'm ghostwriting it, I've tried to find a way to match the conversational tone of my boss and keep it readable. I'm writing about specific subject matter and I need to sound like I know what I'm talking about without being stuffy or pompous. As I've shown here, I think that a blog is a conversation. And I tend to write in a conversational tone, phrasing things as I would say them if I were speaking to friends. I do not write in the formal manner, using all the conventions of correct grammar, as I would were I writing an English paper or an article for a magazine or speaking in front of a group of English professors who weren't also my friends. (You would be shocked at how many of my friends and Scott's are actually English professors.)

In writing this other blog, which has kept me away from here for more than a week, I think, I have used a sentence fragment for effect. I have begun a sentence with And (more than once), also for effect, and I have been soundly called out for those things by Mr. Techy-Smartypants. To my boss!

I met him for the first time yesterday and he gave off a cold and smug vibe that really rubbed me the wrong way. During the meeting, I learned that my boss is hiring another writer who was recommended by this tech guy, who by the way, I now think is a dirty louse for recommending another writer.

My boss says I shouldn't be insulted. He wants me to manage the marketing efforts and not write. But I love writing. LOVE IT. It is the one thing, other than my family and friends, that I am passionate about. Marketing is just something I do. Not what I love... what I wake up thinking about in the middle of the night. I don't compose marketing plans in the shower every day, but I do mentally write... fictional stories, blog posts, love letters to my husband and children, letters to congresspeople, magazine articles.

I know that if I were a better person, a team player, as it were, I'd be egoless about this. I would believe this is what is best for the business and I will be able to focus my efforts on generating great marketing ideas every day if I don't have to write the blog and web content. But I'm not there. I'm not selfless and egoless. I do believe I am a better writer than anyone else my boss will hire. I went to Agnes Freakin' Scott, dammit! No one trains better writers than Agnes Scott.

So, now that we're clear... Dawn doesn't play well with others and thinks she's a better writer than 95% of the people available to be hired as writers and she doesn't like being corrected by know-it-all techies... I feel much better. And I hope you don't think less of me for venting about it. Or for actually having the feelings in the first place. I never claimed to be perfect, right?

I will see letting go of the writing aspects of the job as an opportunity to focus those energies here and on other writing projects and I will try to see focusing on the marketing efforts as my actual job and the building up of those muscles.

Wish me the best.

*Tech dude actually criticized me for writing directly into the blog, as opposed to using a text editor and cutting and pasting. First of all, if WordPress actually came with a built-in spell check it wouldn't matter, and second of all, he must not know who he's talking to. I can only compare it to folks who do crosswords in pencil.

So, y'all, how do you write? Directly into the blog or with a text editor? Do tell, because I think he's insane and presumptuous to believe that I would need to do that.

Summer Lovin'

It seems like we've been going non-stop since school got out.

Brendan has been having swimming lessons once or twice a week. Rather than go with group lessons at the Y or the local swim club, I'm having the captain of the swim team at one of our many neighborhood pools teach him. She's very sweet and although he was afraid to put his face in, by the third lesson, he was jumping into the deep end and going under. After each lesson he has begged to stay and play in the water and we have although we're not members. I've been surprised at how easy it is to find a friend and ask if we can stay as their guests. Everyone in our neighborhood is so friendly and so willing to help a friend out. I love it here!

Beckett, too, loves the pool, which has surprised me since he hates baths. Go figure. Kids are full of surprises.

Brendan also gave me a big surprise this week. He's at a day camp at his old preschool all week. After the second day he came home and asked me who he was going to marry then proceeded to tell me the names of two of his female friends that he thought he'd like to marry some day. I have no idea where this came from, by the way.

He then decided that he preferred one of the girls to the other. The girl he picked is named Brynn and she was in his preschool class the previous two years but I don't know her well. He is so infatuated with her that he asked me if he could take flowers to her today. Yesterday, he came home and told me that he played with her during free play time and he shared his Play-Doh with her when she ran out.

I knew he was sensitive, but I had no idea we had raised such a little romantic.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. His dad is a pretty romantic guy and loves giving presents and doing thoughtful things for me. On the 10th anniversary of the day we met, Scott recorded the Beatles' song Michelle, which is my middle name and one of my favorite songs and surprised me with the recording.

And Brendan has shown that kind of consideration toward me and toward his friends in the past. At Christmas, he insisted that Scott let him buy me a small jewelry box because he thought it was pretty and he had heard me say I wanted a jewelry box before.

I thought little boys were supposed to think girls were gross at this age. Perhaps it comes of having had so many female friends since he was an infant, but Brendan shows no such misogynistic bearings as yet. Hopefully, all of this will turn into a fine respect and admiration of the opposite sex that leads him to get along well with everyone. Right now, though, it's pretty darned cute to see him crushing on his little friend and planning such grand romantic gestures when he's such a little person.

Last Words

My friend and esteemed fellow blogger Jeremy provided this link in the comments section to my last post. But it's such a great article that I don't want anyone who might be interested to miss it.

Here is Paul Begala*'s take on Hillary and the media.

*Paul Begala is my geeky political crush. Just like Josh Lyman on The West Wing. What can I say? I love smart guys.

32 Flavors

I am going to preface this by saying that I think Barack Obama will make a fine POTUS and I am happy to vote for him come November. I will also say that I am appalled by the idiocy of some who say they will vote for McCain because their candidate, i.e. Hilary Clinton, did not win the nomination of the Democratic party.

Now, that said, I will say that this race opened my eyes to the role that gender politics still play in this country. Before the primaries began, I thought it would be much more difficult for rich black man to get elected than for a rich white woman. I thought the country was much more racially biased than gender biased, even though I have had my own personal experiences with sexual harassment and sexual bias in the workplace.

But having heard the attacks on Clinton when she showed emotion after the New Hampshire primary and heard female pundits criticize Hilary for her appearance when they never would say the same things about a male candidate was shocking and frustrating. Of course, in hindsight, I think the media would attack a man for showing any emotion other than anger, too. As a nation, we seem incredibly uncomfortable with any sincere expression of emotion that isn't behind closed doors. But that's another post.

Right now, seeing clearly that we are unwilling to elect a woman and that the media willingly participates in the sexist stereotyping of female candidates (and the wives of male candidates) and that members of the so-called unbiased media hold blatantly misogynistic views, I am disheartened.

Only when it becomes as politically incorrect to label a woman a bitch or criticize gender as it is to focus on skin color, ethnicity, or religion will we be able to elect a woman.

And if you want to argue that it is politically incorrect and unacceptable in the media and our culture to make sexist comments, check out this video put together by the Women's Media Center:

Summer Days

It is difficult for me to believe that what passes for summer today is in any way related to the summers I knew as a child. Although many of my memories are blurred around the edges, others remain pristine in their clarity and I play them out in my mind like an old home movie.

There I am, riding my bike around the neighborhood or to the park, alone. I'm probably nine. I ride my bike to my friend Neece's (pronounced like niece-y, short for Glenice) house and then we go to get a couple of other friends and soon a group of four or five girls tear through the neighborhood, pedaling as fast as we can, pretending to be Charlie's Angels or the Dukes of Hazzard.

I see a blanket of sunny days with brown-skinned arms and legs that would merit being told I was brown as a biscuit. Mornings spent helping my grandmother in her garden followed by afternoons of playing tag or shadow tag, kickball and baseball with my cousins and the other kids our age in the neighborhood. A box elder tree, mailbox, a stone, and a silver maple tree served as our bases. After lunch, we'd walk to the store where 50 cents bought a Coke and a candybar or pack of Now and Laters or a pack of candy cigarettes. The afternoons bled into evenings of running around in the yard catching lightning bugs and putting them in a mayonnaise jar with holes poked in the metal lid. Then, we'd sit on the porch and eat watermelon, spitting seeds out into the yard. Or maybe my aunt and uncle would show up and we'd pile into the car, barefoot and giggling and go to the lake where we'd grill hamburgers and skim stones as we watched the sun set.

And with the exception of helping my grandmother in the garden, or having a meal prepared for us, or interacting with the clerk at the store, or being driven somewhere, there was nary a grown-up in the picture. We were self-sufficient. And trusted. And confident and competent. Because our parents trusted us and trusted the world we lived in.

Now, at five I wasn't riding my bike through the neighborhood or walking to the store or park alone. But I was walking across the street to my friend Scotty's house. And I was playing outside for hours on end by myself. I'm sure my grandmother poked her head out once in a while to make sure I was still there, but she wasn't hovering over me, making sure I was engaged and entertained in something constructive. I didn't have a summer reading list or daily flash card time. I was free to imagine and be and create my own worlds where I was a race car driver or a mommy or a veterinarian or a doctor. I climbed trees and sang songs and chased the dog and had the opportunity to be a kid in ways I didn't always get to.

We blame video games and TV for our kids lack of activity and creativity; the rise in obesity, and all the rest of society's ills. But really? Isn't it our fault? We're the ones cowed by fear of bad things happening to our children if they're out of our sight for an instant. And we're the ones who either don't have the time or the inclination to get up and get out and do things.

I'm not saying I do. Clearly, I'm sitting here typing and sounding off on a perfectly gorgeous sunny morning. But, when I finish my coffee and Kashi, I do plan to get my boys outside today. At least for a while.

I may not be able to recreate my idealized summer, especially since school begins August 11 (thanks Mr. President for your stupid NCLB). But, I want to do my best to create some fun memories for these guys and to allow them the opportunities to make their own memories as they become capable and secure in their abilities to do so.

Rocky Top

One little known fact about me – at least to people I've met the last five years or so – is that I am a huge sports fan. I love college football and college basketball and professional baseball and the NBA and once upon a time had the space in my brain to store names and positions and statistics and oddball anecdotes.

Then, I had kids.

All the space I reserved for sports has been filled with other trivia after a long stint as cold storage thanks to sleep deprivation. Where once there was room in my brain to have an opinion on whether Manning or Helton should be the number two behind Jerry Colquitt or who Duke should start against St. John's, or whether or not the Braves should trade Maddux and Glavine, now I have a broad and deep knowledge of all things geek.

I can name 20 different Pokemon on sight or by charades. I can name most of the Autobots and tell you what kind of vehicle they transform into. I know my Triceratops from my apatosaurus . I know more backstory on Spiderman, Venom, Carnage, Iron Man, Wolverine, Captain America, Silver Surfer, Dr. Doom, and the Fantastic Four than I do on a lot of my friends.

Now, though, I'm so excited about college football again that I might have to eke out some room for it this year. And it's all thanks to this man.

David Cutcliffe, is no doubt, a great football coach. He has coached and mentored two of the best quarterbacks in history and at two different schools. But he's also a good man. He and his wife, Karen, took in their son Chris' best friend when the boy's mother died.

Last week, after reading a story about how Coach Cut was changing attitudes about football at Duke and holding the administration and other coaches accountable for treating the football program with the same respect they want, I felt compelled to send the man a note to let him know that Duke football fans are really excited by his presence. (At least those of us who are dyed in the wool college football fans (i.e. the ones from the South) are.) Attached to my e-mail was a photograph of me holding Brendan at his first Duke football game. I never expected to hear anything back at all.

The next day, I got an e-mail from Coach Cutcliffe's secretary telling me the coach had something he wanted to send me and asking for my home address.

A few days later, we received a nice handwritten note from the coach along with a copy of my original photograph, blown up and autographed by Coach Cutcliffe.

It was a very sweet gesture and he certainly didn't have to do it or have his staff do it. But I think it shows what a great guy he is and I am very excited to have him at Duke. I can't wait for August 30th.

Go Duke!

Mary, Mary

It's been almost a month since I planted my garden. I haven't taken any pictures of it since the first day.

I followed these guidelines for a beginner's vegetable garden on the Farmer's Almanac site to get started.

My neighbor, Mr. Martin, broke up the ground for me. He's an awesome neighbor with every kind of tool known to man just waiting around for someone to need it. After tilling the soil for me, he got out his chain saw and cut some branches off a couple of trees to let more sunlight into my garden space.

Once that was done, I amended the soil and got it ready to plant. All I did was put some lime down to counter the acidity of the pine needles that had previously covered the ground. The next day, I planted.

I planted pumpkins, yellow squash, cukes, tomatoes (cherry, Big Boy, and yellow), cantaloupes, leaf lettuce, carrots, beets, bush beans, zucchini, green onions, and I think that's all. I honestly don't remember and forgot to diagram it. So, we'll see.

Right now, everything I've named has sprouted. Some things (beans, squash, pumpkins, tomatoes) are thriving. The rest, not so much.

Send positive vibes my garden's way.

I'll keep you updated.

Summertime

Today is the last day of school for Brendan's class. It's hard to believe that he'll be a Kindergartner next year. It would be a cliche to say how fast the years have flown by. I still feel like I'm just getting to know him, my smart, beautiful, imaginative little guy. Every day he surprises me with his ability to show and receive love.

I remember that last summer he lamented the fact that he, unlike many of his other friends, did not have a best friend. His teacher last year commented that unlike some of the other boys in his class, Brendan sometimes liked to play alone. How it has warmed my heart to watch him blossom this year ... to see him make friends and laugh and have a good time, to learn to write, draw, and count, to be well-liked by his teachers and fellow students, to find a best friend.

The pictures in the attached slideshow are some I took at the pre-K end-of-year party on Wednesday. It was a pool party and the children could not have had more fun! They ran from pool to pool, played on the Slip 'N Slide, ate pizza and popsicles, and generally had about as much fun as I've ever seen a bunch of kids having. I feel really lucky that I got to be there.

One of my favorite pictures in the slideshow is of Brendan with his best friend, Kush. They love each other in such a pure, unconditional way. Everyday when they see each other they hug. On Saturday, Brendan found a box here that a toy had come in. On the outside of the package were pictures of Spiderman and Venom. Brendan loves Spidey, but so does Kush, so Brendan asked if we could cut out the picture of Spiderman and take it to his friend. Of course we did. I am proud of my loving and giving little fellow, yet simultaneously surprised at how loving and giving he can be. But I guess that's what you do for your best friend.

As always, though, I've gotten ahead of myself, hoping they'll remain friends for a long, long time. Who knows? We'll see. Right now, it just brings me joy to see these two sweet boys and their friendship.

We're All In This Thing Together

I spent a much-needed evening with my girlfriends last night, playing Bunco, laughing, talking, eating delicious food, and drinking rum punch.

I got a little of that patchwork mothering and gave some myself. Today, I feel as if a reset button has been punched and all is right with the world. At least my tiny piece of it. Sadly, that much can't be said of the world at large. I am saddened about what a tragic week or two it has been in the world at large.

Here, though, on this tiny plot of earth, for this moment at least, I feel safe, happy, loved, and loving.

I'm done acting like a spoiled brat.

All the kids who got into that class deserve to be there. Maybe especially the more challenging ones like E., the jumping-bean of a boy who can't sit still.

I thought a lot about the fact that just a few months ago I didn't even want to apply because I was worried that it would harm Brendan socially because he'd have the same classmates for the next six years. I thought about the fact that his best friend, Kush, also didn't get in and I hope they'll get to be in the same class next year.

Like I said, we all end up where we're meant to be. Somehow.

Brendan's teacher reaffirmed this belief this morning when she said that no matter what class he's in he will succeed and do well. It made me very proud and happy to hear the confidence in her voice when she said that. And looking across the room at E., as he climbed into the middle of the table where his classmates were trying to draw, I hoped that he, too, would thrive and find success where he lands.

Another Brick in the Wall

Brendan did not get into the magnet Kindergarten class. I'm somewhat surprised by how disappointed I was over this. Twenty-three students from our district applied for 10 spots, while 63 students from outside our district applied for the additional 10 spots.

Of the kids currently in Brendan's pre-K class, only four got in.

When I saw the list, the worst base aspects of my personality rose up. I couldn't help but notice that two of the three boys whose moms have an exclusive little clique going on got in. And the worst kid in the class. The one who by all observation should be in a special needs class because he literally cannot sit still for five minutes. The one who climbed over and under and around and behind every table, desk, cabinet, filing cabinet, and play structure in the classroom while another mom and I tried to conduct story time. The one that I had to carry out of the boys' bathroom the day I volunteered as a lunch monitor because he refused to come back to class. Yeah. He'll really get a lot out of five day a week French lessons and extra math and science.

Then, I took a deep breath and decided that this was for the best. Somehow, we all end up right where we are meant to be.

Now, I just hope Brendan gets one of the two remaining good Kindergarten teachers and not the one with a reputation for sticking the kids in front of a video when she doesn't feel like teaching. I don't think anyone is actually meant to end up there.

Motherless Child

I just stumbled on an extremely powerful and moving article over on CNN. It actually complements the post I wrote for Jen over at SemiCharmed Wife rather nicely.

It's about how to create a new mother for yourself if you feel like you haven't received the mothering you need. The article originally appeared in O Magazine. Author Martha Beck starts off by saying to change the way you think about the word mother so that you see it as a verb rather than a noun. Solid advice, I think.

Ultimately she goes on to suggest four lines of thought to determine if and where you still need mothering. I've listed her thought provoking statements below and follow each with my own initial reaction:

1) I feel useless, unlovable, and disgusting when ...
I lose my temper with my children and when I lose control over my domestic duties.

2) I feel empty and needy when ...
I am tired and sleep-deprived and feel like I have more to do than I can accomplish.

3) I feel stupid and ignorant when ....
I am late for appointments or forget events.

4) I feel helpless and incapable when ...
I have to ask for help completing a task that is my responsibility.

Basically, says Beck, if you had an immediate response for each of those, you need your mommy. Or at least the verisimilitude of a mother in your life. She suggests a patchwork mother.

It seems I already have a patchwork mommy, an amalgam of friends, family, and people I've never even met. Over the last month, I have received and am grateful for the mothering I received from certain friends ....

Stacey metaphorically held my hand via e-mail two weeks ago when I had freak out as a result of coming off the Zoloft I've been taking for the last year.

Courtney, my best friend for the last 14 years or so, gave me wonderful and sound advice about child psychology.

Fran and Jen both expressed belief in me and my writing skills.

Scott has helped me more with the house and kids the last couple of weeks and has been extremely encouraging of me as a writer and as a promoter of his music.

A.,Leila, Aleta, Just Me, and Jeremy all had good advice about our food battles.

And suddenly, I feel so loved and connected and at peace. For all my bitching and moaning about feeling alone and like a motherless child, I have been getting all the mothering I need.

Oh! What a Beautiful Morning

I was just sitting down to blog when Beckett awoke. So, it's off to get him out of bed and dressed, then we're off to Decatur to run some errands and go to the Blue Sky Concert on the square. Hopefully, the weather holds.

And hopefully, I will be able to write more later. I want to tell you all about my garden!

Happy day, y'all!

Just Got Lucky

I just received a phone call from my brother-in-law and had to take a break from working out to take the call and now blog about it because I am so grateful about the news I received I'm teary-eyed.

My mother-in-law had an arteriogram this morning to check for blockages in her heart. She had been having some palpitations and other issues and a stress test was inconclusive.

The doctors found no blockages in her heart and said the heart looks healthy. This, in my opinion, is nothing less than a miracle.

Both of her brothers (one older, one younger) have had by-pass surgeries in the last four years. Her mother died following open heart surgery two years ago. Compounding the issue is the fact that my mother-in-law is extremely overweight. When Scott and I began dating 12 years ago, she was only slightly overweight and really did a good job taking care of herself. Then she quit smoking and became focused on her grandchildren and stopped caring about herself it seemed. We've all talked to her and tried to encourage her. I've given her so many different diet and healthy living books it's not funny. Nothing has worked.

I pray that this is the wake up call, the second chance, that gets her to start taking care of herself. I love her like my own mother. And my boy adores her.

I want her to be around for him to have a relationship with. I want her to see all the milestones in his life. I don't want her to die.

I just wish she felt the same and would start making the changes that will keep her here a while longer.

Hold On

What a random day I've had.

When I got up this morning I was overwhelmingly sad about all the conflict I've been having with Brendan lately. Is five the new two? I have spoken with some of the other moms of kids in his class and they all seem to be dealing with similar issues.

I went online and did some reading and came up with some new ideas for how to handle some of the stuff we're dealing with. I decided that I am not going to turn this food thing into a huge battle. I love the ideas that Jen and Just Me suggested. We've actually been saving his dinner and telling him he can have that, but he whines and cries and many a night, I forget to save it and throw it out, but at least we're getting better at it.

Anyway, I was just starting to think I could get a handle on this stuff when I got a call from Brendan's school saying he was sick and I should come get him. When I got there, he was sobbing because his stomach hurt and he could barely walk. I had to ask another parent to carry Beckett back out to the car while I carried Brendan. All I could think was appendicitis.

I went to the pediatrician's office which is two minutes away, but they were at lunch and I had to wait 30 min. for their return. By the time the pediatrician got there, he didn't hurt anymore. After examining him, she guessed either a colon spasm, but felt like he didn't have the right combination of symptoms or issues; or kidney stones, but again, not the right list of other complaints.

We spent the rest of the afternoon on the couch reading books and watching TV and playing Matchbox cars and Bionicles. It was the most pleasant afternoon we've had in a few weeks because I wasn't trying to juggle kids, chores, work, cooking dinner, etc. I opted for a very easy dinner of steak, baked potatoes, and oven roasted veggies and encouraged the boys to play with their cars in the kitchen while I cooked.

I had loaded the dishwasher with the day's accumulation of dishes plus the leftover pans from last night's baking adventures and started running it only to look over and see a couple of sippy cups that needed washing. So, I opened the door to the dishwasher which is supposed to stop running when the door is opened. Only that didn't happen. It kept running and I got quite a good splashing. Of course, because it was spraying, I couldn't get the drawer to slide back in and get the door closed. It took me several seconds to think to turn it off. By then, I was soaked from the knees down and quite damp every where else and the floor was covered in water. Fortunately, at that point the boys were playing elsewhere.

Any other day, I would have freaked out and been really pissed off. But today.... Today, it just made me laugh. Maybe because I was so relieved Brendan wasn't seriously ill. Maybe because I was actively trying to be patient and not let anything bother me. Maybe because I kept imagining what it must have looked like from another perspective.

Who knows? I guess it doesn't really matter. I've lived to fight another day as they say. Or preferably, not fight, but enjoy the day and those around me.

I can't help but wonder if the last few weeks have seemed so god-awful because I stopped taking the antidepressant I was on for ppd. I don't want to be someone who can't function without a pill. I don't think it's wrong if that's what you need. It just makes me sad to think of having to live that way. I want to be able to manage on my own, to learn how to control my own emotions without being numbed to them.

Whatever the case may be, it felt nice to manage today. To turn it around and feel like I could make a change.Hold

Cooking by the Book

Calling Chef Mom. Please report to the advice podium to dole out some good advice to frustrated moms in need of healthy meals children will eat.


I've had it with cooking dinner several times a week only to be told that what I've prepared is yucky.

If it doesn't come from a guy in a clown suit or a crown, isn't neon orange and cheesy, doesn't taste like cinnamon and powdered sugar, or isn't Siamese Basil's cashew chicken, my eldest child thinks it's gross.

Dinner time is a battle every night. Admittedly, by the time I get through the two hours it takes me to construct a meal while managing a crying toddler and stopping every five minutes to find a toy, change the tv channel, open something, let the dog in or out, or put out some fire (metaphorical or literal), I've had it. I want to eat my food, get everyone bathed and in bed, and zone out.

I try to cook healthy foods I like but I realize that I'm the only one who likes them. Granted, Brendan hates all foods and this drives me crazy. It makes me mad. He used to love everything and then one day, he just became this defiant child who refuses to eat anything. And I didn't help it because I thought he couldn't go hungry so instead of saying, "tough luck, eat this or do without," I would let him have a banana or make something I thought he'd eat.

Now, I'm trying to fix the problem and we're fighting like cats and dogs every night, screaming at each other and I can't take it anymore. I literally sat at the kitchen table and cried last night after telling my whole family I was going on strike because they didn't appreciate my hard work to cook nice meals. It's insulting to have your child tell you the food you've made is yucky. And I guess I had just heard that one too many times last night.

I feel like an idiot for letting him get the best of me that way. Of course, on the one hand, he hurt my feelings and he should see that his actions have consequences. That words can hurt people. I just hate that he learned on me. I don't want him to know he can push my buttons like that.

So, what I'm trying to ask for is a little advice, recipes, meal suggestions, ideas for getting your kid to try new foods or things they think they don't like. I can't trick him, nor do I want to. So, none of this, hide the zucchini in the spaghetti sauce (he wouldn't eat it anyway because he's the only kid in America who doesn't like spaghetti). I want real ideas.

And, by the way, how do you eat healthy meals if your children flat out refuse to eat them when you prepare them. It's a waste of time, energy, and money. Do you break down and fix kid-friendly meals or do you let the kids go hungry or fix other things? I ask this, expecting to hear "the kids should eat whatever you make" but do kids really want poached salmon, brown rice, baked sweet potato, and a salad with ginger dressing? Will most kids eat that?

My friend L. prepares two meals most nights. Either she fixes something the kids will eat and she and her husband snack or have a separate meal or the kids snack and she prepares a meal she and her husband will eat. Which is kind of what I was doing, but decided was a bad idea. Now, I'm wondering if it is such a terrible thing to do.

Alright... Let me have your best ideas!

And thanks in advance!

Sweet Jane

Finally, I get to write about Saturday night!

First, I just want to say, that if you are in Atlanta, you have to go to one of the remaining 4 nights of 500 Songs for Kids at Smith's Olde Bar. If you have an extra $100 go to Saturday's show. It will be jam-packed with terrific performers, including Gnarls Barkley's own Cee-Lo singing the final song of the night.

I'm going to get this right finally... This year's songs are the... wait for it... 500 Greatest Sing-a-long Songs.

Scott performed song #380, The Velvet Underground's Sweet Jane. What a great song and a perfect fit for Scott! He was very true and I thought he was fantastic. The crowd seemed to agree.

My other favorites of the night included:

Why the Fly covering Hansen's Mmm Bop
Heather Luttrell's cover of Georgia on My Mind (this woman has an amazing voice!)
Grace Buford singing Over the Rainbow
Charlotte, NC band The Sammies doing AC/DC's Thunderstruck (kicked major ass!)
Xylah throwing down by mixing a little Pinball Wizard into her performance of Jefferson Airplane's White Rabbit
Love Rush's faithful cover of Better than Ezra's Good
The Julia Dream's cover of The Flaming Lips' She Don't Use Jelly
and
Audrey Spillman's sensual rendition of Aretha Franklin's Natural Woman.

Those are just my favorites. Everyone worked really hard to put on a great show and these are just a few of the ones that really stood out. All of these musicians gave their time and talent to a very worthy cause and for that they should all be applauded.

Go see live music, people! Wherever you are. These musicians work hard at something they love. Let them know you appreciate them!

Semi-Charmed Kind of Wife

I have been remiss in not posting this earlier. Semi-Charmed Wife has had a wonderful theme week going on over at her blog on the issue of self-esteem.

With guest posters, including moi, she has looked at the subject from several interesting angles. I think my favorite has to be Leah's which I think forces us to really get at the root of whether or not we actually care whether a specific person likes us or not.

So, if you're not a regular at her site, you'll have a week's worth of wonderful, inspired reading to catch up on. If you struggle with your own self-esteem or love someone who does, I highly suggest you check it out.

500 Songs for Kids

I'm just a little excited about this.

Okay! I am thrilled about this!

Scott was selected to perform as part of 500 Songs for Kids, a 10-day music marathon to raise money for the Songs for Kids Foundation.

It's really a cool honor to be selected to perform during this event and I'm very happy for my honey.

I know music has brought so much joy into my life and provided so much comfort to me at times when I've needed it that it makes me really happy and grateful to think of Scott's being a part of such a unique way to help kids.

So, if you're in the ATL on Saturday, May 3, you can check Scott and many other Songs for Kids performers out at Smith's Olde Bar.


You can check Scott's My Space page for the time later today.

The Scientist

What did you dream of being when you were a child? Did you give up that dream or is it still in your heart and head somewhere? If so, are you pursuing it in some way?

I'm thinking about all of this, because, as you probably have figured out by now, I'm still trying to figure out how to make my dreams happen. Some I have achieved, but thankfully, I still have others that I'm working on.

And now, my son is old enough to start telling me about some of his dreams. It's wonderful to get a peek inside that head and hear what he thinks about, to see some of the places his imagination carries him....

Brendan has been saying recently that he wants to be a scientist. And a vegetarian. Sometimes he gets confused. He told me last week that scientists don't eat meat. We fixed that one pretty quickly. Still, he wants to be a non-carnivorous scientist. I'm good with that.

On Sunday, as we were driving home from his soccer game, he told me he wants to have his own TV network that broadcasts all his favorite shows. It will also broadcast The Brendan Show. As he described it, it sounds a lot like Late Night with Conan O'Brien, my favorite late-night chat show. He said that he would be on the show and he'd have his friends on and they'd do funny tricks and they'd talk to other people about what they did and what they like. He's never watched a show like that at home, although I guess he could have seen something similar at his grandmother's. I'm not entirely sure where he came up with the idea.

Later that night as I was tucking him in, he told me that he would also like to have his own laboratory so that he could conduct experiments and make potions and he wants to be a TV actor. He'd also like to have all his toys talk so they can be his friends. And he wants a goldfish.

Big dreams.

I support them all. Except for the talking toys.

It's noisy enough in this house.

Girls and Boys

When I was pregnant with Beckett, I stumbled upon a message board/support group for women who were disappointed in the gender of their child/children. I generally thought their reasons were vapid and selfish and I rather casually judged them. Some of them were extremely angry that they had had a child of a sex other than the one they desired. Most had tried more than twice for a specific gender, usually female. However, there were a few posters who were really pissed off and disappointed to have even one son.

At the time, I didn't get it. At all. And I still don't get the anger or bitterness that a lot of the women expressed.

But now that the reality has completely set in that I am never going to have a daughter, I understand some of the sadness and disappointment. That said, I do not blame my sons or my husband or anyone else and I absolutely adore my sons. They are amazing and loving in ways that a girl never could be. Boys are just special in that way.

Still... there are things, experiences, knowledge, history that I could only share with a daughter. My daughter. Not a daughter-in-law. Not a niece. Not a friend's daughter.

And lately, it feels like the Universe is rubbing it in. And I just need to get it out.

I know that I've talked about this before, specifically about all the beautiful names I'll never use... Catherine/Cate/Cat, Tess, Anna Claire, Sloan(e), Emerson, Annalise, Elizabeth, Kyra.

Lately, I've been focused on the heart of the issue and that's how it has been presenting itself to me, too.

Everywhere I look friends and family are having daughters. Every movie or tv show I watch seems to have mothers and daughters having lovely encounters. Last weekend I watched a ton of movies while Scott's mom had the boys. One of them was an awful thing with Diane Keaton, Lauren Graham, Mandy Moore, and another woman. The three young women were Diane Keaton's daughters. The movie opened with the three of them at a spa, sharing and joking with one another. Of course, the mother was a real bitch, but with good intentions, I guess. However, that opening scene broke my heart.

I'm never going to have that. Not with my mom. Not with my daughter. And it sucks.

And that's just one thing on the lengthy list of experiences you can share with a daughter that you'll never get with a son. Now, that said, I know there's a ton of fun stuff I'll do with my sons. But I know that it's rare for a mother and son to have the same kind of emotionally intimacy that mothers and daughters can have. I've seen it. My best friend and her mom are exceedingly close. And while her brother and her mom love each other deeply, I don't think they connect in the same way.

And while Scott and his mom were very close at one time, they no longer share the same sort of relationship they once did when he told her everything that was going on in his life and she talked to him about who she was dating or asked for his opinion on things going on in her life. That more or less ended when we got married, although I'd be happy for him to talk to his mom more often. It's just that he doesn't need her in the same ways he once did. And that's normal.

But I think girls always need their moms in a way sons never will. And that's what breaks my heart.

And like I said.... That old fucking Universe just keeps rubbing it in. That stupid movie. Two friends/relatives having daughters in the last week. My favorite cousin's daughter going to her first prom. I know her mom helped pick her dress...it had her style all over it and her daughter is beautiful – the spitting image of her mom at that age.

Then there was the well-meaning friend I haven't seen since college who told me that she couldn't wait to meet my sons and that God really knew what he was doing when he gave you sons!"

I know Josie meant that as a compliment...I'm a guy's girl, love sports, not too prissy. Still, what I heard was, You are not good enough to raise a daughter and you'd only fuck her up the way your mom screwed you up.

Even as I type this, I hear how whiny and pathetic I sound. I know I should just shut the fuck up and be happy with what I've got. And I am happy with my sons. I wouldn't trade them in a million years. They're both so cute and handsome and funny. Each so full of their own unique personalities.

I can't help feeling like I got invited to the birthday party and all the other kids got cake AND ice cream, but all I got was a double helping of cake. And it's cake that moves around too much and is loud and won't sit still and stay on my plate.

But ya know what? At least I got invited to the party. I know that to anyone who wants kids and doesn't have them yet, I sound like a horribly selfish bitch.

And I'm sorry.

It's stupid, I know. But, it's what I'm feeling right now – a need to live out the mother/daughter relationship I've never had but see all around me. The sadness I feel that despite the fact that I went to a women's college and loved every single minute of it I don't have a legacy child to follow in my footsteps.

I'm just trying to shake it. Move on. Embrace the sports-themed bathroom the boys now share and forget about the rose and cream toile of my dreams.

Life is Like a Musical

It has occurred to me many times over the last week that I haven't posted, but until this moment I haven't had a chance to write when my mind was actually somewhat uncluttered.

As is typical of our household, life has been a whirlwind of late. Brendan was on spring break last week and we stayed busy indoors for most of the week thanks to the pollen. Both boys had asthmatic episodes and required albuterol at various times.

We did manage to make it out to the Fernbank Natural History Museum. It was, in a word, AWESOME! You know...if you're a little geeky and love dinosaurs and 9 ft. tall giant sloths that have been extinct for several tens of thousands of years. Brendan and I had a ball. I bought a family membership and I am so glad I did. I can't wait to go back with him. I loved the Argentinosaurus (Hello, World's Biggest Dinosaur discovered by scientists from Atlanta's own museum!), while Brendan was a fan of Gigantasaurus, who looked a lot like a T-Rex.

Friday night I went with my friend Barrett to see the world premiere of big, the new ballet staged by the Atlanta Ballet and Big Boi, aka, Antwan Patton. I feel very honored to have been invited. Barrett has season tickets to the ballet and her seats are excellent – sixth row, just left of the orchestra pit. I can't say that I know anything about dance. I enjoy watching it, but I've never, ever, not once, been moved or emotionally touched by a dance performance until now. I found myself crying twice during this ballet. The first act was beautiful, lyrical, stirring, awe-inspiring. The principal dancer, Tara Lee, moved like the most graceful creature I've ever seen. She didn't seem human in her grace. I found the second act less moving and harder to follow. What I found the most moving of all perhaps was the bringing together of different ages, classes, and races for this performance. Hopefully, it will open the world of ballet to a larger audience and make it more accessible to those of us who feel like we know nothing about dance. At the same time, I think it's neat to bring modern music to the ears of those who might otherwise not be exposed to it or condemn it all as garbage, like the nearly 90-year old lady who sat in front of us. I didn't see a single person get up and leave mid-performance and I feared I might.

Big Boi's band was amazing, by the way.

On Saturday night, we drove up to Athens to hear our friend Mark's band. They were really good, although I wish we had gotten to hear more from their new singer. She has a really nice voice, but was definitely under utilized.

After all that fun and excitement and between the pollen and sitting outside in the cold on Saturday night, I have ended up with another sinus infection. I look like death warmed over, to the point that Brendan told me on Monday that he doesn't like me anymore because he doesn't like the way I look. I wasn't entirely sure how to react to that and chose to ignore it. Although I quite agree with him. I don't really like the way I look right now either. Or feel for that matter.

Here's to being well, focused, and happy. I wish that for all of you who may read this as well as for myself and my family.

Anniversary Song

Last night Scott and I celebrated our eighth anniversary. Eight years isn't a new marriage, but when I think about the kind of enduring love I dream of, it seems so young and fresh.

So much has changed in such a brief time. As I mentioned earlier, and as so many of you know, it's so easy to misplace your feelings for one another, to lose your passion for your (soul)mate once you have children. Shoot, even without kids. I'm sure we've all sadly watched couples we thought were made for one another drift apart over time regardless of whether or not they had kids. Kids just become one more means of hiding out and not really communicating with your partner, whether you intend for that to happen or not.

Anyway, it was really wonderful to spend a perfect, romantic evening with my husband. For the two of us to slow down, to do nothing of consequence, but something profound. To just be together, enjoying one another, and remembering how and why and when and where we fell in love.

Scott completely took charge of the evening. At some point yesterday I suggested that we do what we'd done on our honeymoon. For our honeymoon, we booked tickets to London and two nights lodging. We planned to be in England and Ireland for two weeks. We played everything by ear and at times, it was a little stressful, like when we arrived in Dublin on a Friday afternoon and couldn't find a hotel room. Our delightfully charming cabbie got on his cell phone and found us a room at a friend's B & B for one night only and recommended a lovely little Italian restaurant.

So, we sort of played it by ear, although Scott had a general plan in mind. As it turned out, it was almost exactly what I had been envisioning. Almost right down to the neighborhood. I was only off by about three miles.

When he came home, we had a drink before we left and then drove around for a while just listening to a podcast of This American Life from Valentine's Day about love and relationships when they're no longer new. It was really beautiful. We took the long way to get where we were going.

So, we took the long way to drive from our house to Decatur. We drove past my alma mater and admired how beautiful the campus looks in the spring, then we drove over to Oakhurst, which is a little neighborhood in Decatur where there are lots of beautiful old Victorian style homes and cute shops and restaurants. We ate at a little Mexican place and it was delicious. We haven't been out for Mexican in a really, really long time and it's one of my favorites.

Then, we walked across the street to Kavarna. It's a coffee and wine bar that Scott's going to be playing in July. We had cappuccino and split some baklava. Then we drove around and finished listening to the podcast and drove to places we used to go to when we were dating and before we even knew each other. It was really nice.

Then we came home at 11 p.m. to two boys awake, the baby crying. Both wheezing from all the pollen. But it was a good night and I felt very loved and in love.

Perfect.

In an Octopus's Garden

There's a reason I'm up at 4:00 a.m. Again. Blogging.

But, I don't want to think about asthma and inhalers and nebulizers, Albuterol and Pulmicort, or Paul McCartney as we like to call it around here.

I have vegetable gardens on my mind.

I know nothing about gardening really. But, I want to have a little vegetable garden this year. Drought be damned.

Do any of you know anything about gardening? How much sun is necessary (we have a very shady yard)? Is it too late to plant?

I'd love to hear any advice any of you pro gardeners have to offer.

Thanks.

Night People

In the immortal words of Muttley, Rattzle-frattzle-fuzzle....!!

Today was another of those days that leaves me feeling like I accomplished little and was pulled and tugged in ten different directions all at the same time.

Brendan's on spring break and we had some fun just playing this morning. But over the last few days I feel I've spent an inordinate amount of time scolding and correcting him, yelling in frustration. Beckett has also pushed all my buttons. He's a climber and suddenly every moment he's awake is spent telling him no and getting him out of trouble. He bursts into tears every time I correct him and I feel like a heel.

Of course, it's 4:35 a.m. and I've been awake since 2:00 a.m. when Brendan came into our room for the 1000th night in a row it seems. I love my child, but it is so annoying to be woken every night by someone getting in your bed. In all honesty, many nights I don't even wake up, so he thinks it's okay. When he does wake me, it's annoying. He whines, sniffles, complains about some pain or thing that's keeping him awake...any excuse to be in our bed.

Beckett's teething, so he's waking up as well right now. They were both awake at the same time. Brendan's actually having allergy problems and I've had to give him his inhaler twice and change his sheets because he coughed so hard he threw up.

Everyone's finally back in bed and asleep, except me.

I guess I should use the time to figure out how Scott and I can celebrate our anniversary tonight.

I've been depressed all day because I used to have the time, freedom, and energy to focus on my husband, to celebrate our love and spend time thinking of ways to show him that I loved him.

Oh! The Joys!