Zeno's Bar & Grill

Attention: This is G-rated, which I am sure is a relief to some and a disappointment others.

In two words, Dropping Out. I picture my husband and myself saving up money, paying down our mortgage, getting out of our car payments and moving to Eureka, California. I’ve never been there; the farthest north I made it when I lived in California was Mendocino. I just have this romantic notion of it being a great small town, with all of the good qualities of California, but without the high cost of living and consumerism that goes along with it.

Maybe we would open our own business or restaurant or something. It’s still in the fantasy stage, so obviously the details haven’t been worked out. But I find myself on realtor.com checking out what’s available. Maybe we should go there on vacation or something first before selling everything and moving west.

--Kelly

Yesterday I went to buy some jeans and made the bold move of trying on some Lucky Jeans at their huge downtown store, something I’d never done before. I was relieved that they had my size! The jeans were way too low cut for me, but it was still kind of fun. I never knew that they had a little fortune-cookie type fortune tucked into the pocket of each pair.

As for Cali fashion trends for Spring, which Kelly has been asking me about, I can definitely say that short—like knee-length—Capri jeans are definitely in, one trend I will not be sampling at my advanced age of 38, even though Madonna (who is nearly ten years older than I am) went with the Little Lord Fauntleroy look at the leading edge of gaucho mania last fall. I don’t think it’s going out on a limb to say I’m NOT recommending the purple suit that Madonna sported. Still, the Capri jeans aren’t bad. The girls from UCSB are wearing them with wedge heels that look kind of retro. And the last trend that’s so obvious even I noticed it…gigantic bags. Yesterday I saw a lady with a bright red tote so large that I could have fit my car into it.

--Melanie

Went to see Brokeback Mountain yesterday with four friends. Came out of the theater feeling like an elephant had sat on my chest. It was an excellent movie, but definitely not light entertainment. It was all I could do to keep from crying during much of it. I am a complete sucker for movie music that tugs the heartstrings. Of course, it isn’t a perfect film (what movie is?), and this review makes a number of good points that I haven't seen elsewhere.

I agree with the reviewer that Michelle Williams as Alma Del Mar provides some of the most haunting moments as a woman trapped in a marriage with a person she doesn’t really know and two young (perpetually screaming) children in the desperation of life on the edge of poverty.

--Melanie

It’s in the news again: the story about women sharing pumped breast milk, either through informal local alliances among friends or relatives, regulated milk banks or a busy marketplace over the internet. Seriously.

This is a trend that carries heavy potential costs for mothers. When obtaining milk from milk banks that utilize pasteurization and formal donor screening, it’s a literal cost in dollars and cents. According to several sources such as this one, banked human breast milk is about $3.00 per ounce. At that price, it could cost upwards of $60 per day to feed one baby. Even Rachael Ray eats for less than that. To put it into perspective, that’s over ten times the cost of typical baby formulas. Obtaining milk by the alternatives that don’t involve formal screening is less expensive but has another set of costs—the possibility of exposing one’s infant to drugs or transmissible disease agents like HIV.

We can’t help wondering if the desperation to provide breast milk at any price is another manifestation of the ridiculously high standards being imposed on parents these days. This business of putting breast milk on a pedestal seems like another way of driving mothers insane one little piece at a time. Before you peg us as militant anti-La Leche Leaguers, you should know that we nursed our own children long enough to get funny looks when they got old enough to ask for it in complete sentences. But we also know that nursing isn’t an option (or even a desire) for everyone.

Wouldn’t it be nice if the prevailing common wisdom was to say, “It’s okay to give your baby formula if you can’t (or don’t want to) breastfeed,” with no strings attached. The argument marshaled against this approach, of course, is that breast milk is better health-wise, as shown by data in numerous studies. We aren’t arguing that point. But the question is: Do the benefits of breastmilk outweigh the risks of obtaining it from strangers on the internet?

And the truth is that in most cases, formula would be fine, even though it seems to be terminally un-hip to say this nowadays in some circles. If you don’t believe us, then look at the OTHER data: a whole lot of adults today (us included) were initially saddled with the terrible handicap of guzzling Similac at a tender age. Yet somehow our generation has managed to rise above these humble circumstances to perform well on our SATs, go on to college and have productive careers.

By all means, if moms want to safely milk-share they should go for it. But we’d hate to think of anybody going to such extremes out of a sense of obligation or peer pressure that ignores the common sense solution.

--Melanie & Kelly

Saw this at Blog Pourri. You can make a word cloud from your blog (and a tee-shirt) at a site called snapshirts.com.
Here’s ours:

--Melanie & Kelly

The Blog Olympics have closed, and we managed to hang in there through all the events, and apparently ended up with a bronze medal at the closing ceremony as reported in Carol's Bronze Medal Reception. We blame Tonya Harding and that nasty incident with the lead pipe as we were coming off the ice after the frequency of posts round.

Check out Lazy Daisy for the hilarious, and 100% accurate coverage of this fine event!

--Melanie & Kelly

Double helping of guilt for Isabella Penn today. Yesterday was play date time: time for me to feel like a slacker for failing to organize a lovely activity or outing.

I decided to consult the internet to find out what the experts recommend. Probably the most over-the-top advice I found was at funplaydates.com, which sells information packets with craft and snack food suggestions in themes such as “Alien Playdate” (with alien-shaped French toast as a snack), or “Haunted Hollow.” Even Babycenter suggests “Set up a play dough table… stock a small sandbox or sand table with shovels and pails; or put out paper and crayons or finger paints. Give the kids two or three options and let them drift from one activity to another.” These did not make me feel a whole lot better.

I wonder if my daughter’s friend’s parents will be horrified when they find out that the kids spent much of the four hour play date making a fort in the bathtub.

--Melanie

Last night I was telling my husband Barry about how weird I feel about having people come in to clean once a week. He said something to me that he’s never said before in our eight and half of years of marriage. “You should blog that.” Anyway, is this only me? Is it because I grew up in an area where no one hired people to put new roofs on their houses let alone clean the inside of them? Barry tried to make me feel better by asking if I felt guilty about having someone mow the lawn (slightly, but not really) or changing the oil in our car (definitely not). Maybe it’s because I suffer from the expectation that as the stay-at-home mom the housecleaning should be done by me, and that others will think I’m lazy. Maybe I should just save the money and use it for therapy instead.

--Kelly

They are found. Yesterday morning, my almost three-year-old sauntered up to the filing cabinet in my office and pulled it open. There, lying on top of the files, where she had apparently placed them a few days before, were my keys.

Also, as long as I’m updating, I’ll also mention that I finally broke down and got the evil luscious dictionary. On sale! Now I can use words like indefectible and no one will know what I’m talking about.

--Melanie

But I do have an Olympia SM3. My husband found one on eBay for me for Christmas two years ago. It needed a new ribbon and to be oiled, so after driving around with it in my car for about three months I finally brought it the five miles to the repair shop to drop it off.

Last week there was an article in the Chicago Tribune about writers who prefer the clickety clack of a manual over Word, including Larry McMurtry, who thanked his Hermes 3000 at the Golden Globes. That reminded me of my own poor Olympia languishing in the shop some ten months after I had dropped it off. Miraculously, I found the claim ticket. It had been through the laundry, but was still legible, and last Friday I went to pick it up -- It wasn’t ready!

Yesterday it finally was and it is now sitting on my desk. I’m not sure if I’m on my way to a Pulitzer, but it sure looks cool.

--Kelly

Pull up a chair and pop open a Pacifico. It's time for a Mom Meme. Join us if you want, invite a friend (by tagging them), and/or come back next week when we'll have a new Special.

What’s the craziest activity you ever signed your child up for because you thought you “should”?

Melanie: I signed my daughter up for T-ball just because all the other kids in her class were doing it. In Pre-K. That in and of itself says a lot. Anyway, she was not a sports fan then (and isn’t now). She ended up singing to herself in the outfield the entire season, which didn’t bother her a bit, but (at the time) stressed me out to no end. I learned my lesson, though.

Kelly: Infant massage. I totally bought the story hook, line, and sinker that if I didn’t massage my child in the right way he would have gas and grow up to be a mass murderer. I guess cuddling didn’t count.

What’s your favorite secret parenting shortcut that you might not admit to at first?

Melanie: Two words. Tuna. Helper.

Kelly: TELEVISION!!! Nothing gets me an uninterrupted phone call or shower like Dragon Tales!

If you could only choose one, would you have a full time cook, nanny, driver, or housecleaner?

Melanie: Definitely the housecleaner. I am a complete neat freak, and I would love to have someone trailing around after me cleaning up all day. Although in our tiny house, I guess that could get annoying. Okay, a very small and quiet housecleaner then.

Kelly: A housecleaner for sure. I especially wish I could have someone to clean up after dinner. That’s the worst. I love to cook, but hate cleaning up afterward.

They’ve gone missing. Seriously missing, to the point that my kids couldn’t even find them with the dangling carrot prize of a Mogu People pillow that they’ve been pestering me about for months. Of course, I didn’t realize any of this until my husband had already gone to work, so then I was stranded at home all day yesterday.

When I went to order a new electronic car key, they told me it will take a week and cost a hundred dollars. A hundred bucks for one lousy key. That’s more thirty lattes at Starbuck’s or six Mac lip glosses. Not that I need any more lattes. For the past few nights I have been a raging insomniac. If I wake up and it’s actually light outside, I feel like I should throw my hands up in the air in triumph like an Olympic gymnast sticking a perfect landing.

Actually now that I think of it, maybe all those cups of coffee and lost ZZZZs are the reason I misplaced the keys in the first place. Anyway, I ordered the cheaper valet version, which proves I’m an optimist, because I’m still counting on it being a temporary solution and my old key ring turning up. Maybe if I can just get a good night’s sleep...

--Melanie

An article in Sunday’s Chicago Tribune (“Free to Be Flawed”, by Rosemary Sullivan) explores something I faced first hand with my oldest daughter—Rampant Unrestrained Perfectionism. I realized we were in trouble when she started avoiding writing practice in Kindergarten for fear of making mistakes.

In some ways, it was no surprise since she comes from a long line of perfectionists. But there’s more to this nature/nurture equation. Sunday’s NY Times had an article on the great lengths and expense to which some parents of gifted children go in the pursuit of the best educational opportunities for their kids. If you’re trying to keep up with these Joneses there could be trouble in Overachievement City. And yesterday’s paper reported on a new magazine called Wondertime that’s aimed at “education-obsessed” parents (is this a good thing?) Apparently, even a trip to the grocery store can be an exercise in learning if you do color identification drills using yogurt cartons. With all these pressures to perform, it’s no wonder parents and kids get all tied up in knots.

Happily, I can say that two years later my daughter has staged a full recovery from Rampant UP. As a happy side effect, my younger two kids have been inoculated against this dread disease, at least so far. What worked for us? Repeating the mantra Nothing’s Perfect, Nobody’s Perfect, Everybody Makes Mistakes. Again and again. And that was the easy part. The hard part is leading by example, but we keep trying…and besides, uh, nobody’s perfect, so I’m not going to beat myself up over that either.

--Melanie

Am I the only one who found irony in the fact that the philosopher Daniel C. Dennett, profiled in the New York Times Magazine section about the non-existence of God, looks an awful lot like Santa Claus?

Maybe Santa Claus is real and God isn’t and this is Santa’s way of striking back.

--Kelly

Last night Barry and I went to see the movie The Real Dirt on Farmer John, a documentary about a man who lost several hundred acres of his family dairy farm in the eighties. After a lot of soul searching, he used the remaining acres to start an organic vegetable farm called Angelic Organics, which is now part of Community Supported Agriculture, where members buy into the farm for a share of the harvest.

I loved both the film and the fact that I’m in the delivery area for Angelic Organics. I’ve long been a proponent of organic food, but when I moved to Chicago from California two years ago it seemed that my only choices were to buy locally (but non-organically) or go to Whole Foods. Now I have a third option. This summer I will receive a weekly box of vegetables grown organically a mere eighty miles from my house. Angelic Organics also has tours and opportunities to volunteer with the harvest, which I’m looking forward to doing with my kids.

A website called Local Harvest shows areas all over the country where you can participate in something similar.

I feel like I’ve regained a little bit of California right here in the Midwest!

--Kelly

Just got back in touch with an old college friend who turns out to be a fashion designer having a show in New York in the beginning of February. Maybe I should ask him for some style advice since lately I seem to wear the same four outfits every week.

--Melanie

Last night my oldest daughter came up to me after dinner bearing a very small, elongated object with two white blobs on either end. “What’s that,” I asked, squinting to see it. “A Tootsie Roll and mini marshmallow sandwich,” says she, proudly, before tossing it in her mouth. That’s my girl.

--Melanie

The children’s gyms (such as Fitwize 4 Kids) reported on in an article in today’s NY Times ( “Playtime at the Health Club” by Mireya Navarro) seem okay, although it’s a little sad that one nine-year-old interviewed for the article talked about putting Equal on her strawberries (doesn’t she have her entire adulthood as a woman in America to worry about that?) But it’s a little over the top to hire a personal trainer for your child, as one mother in the article did.

The reason for these measures, we are told, is that kids today can’t just disappear for active playtime because, according to the personal trainer-hiring mom, “In this day and age you can’t do that. You make play dates.” It’s not clear whether or not that level of fear is justified. According to Gavin de Becker, a well-known expert on child safety, a child is 250 times more likely to be shot with a gun than to be kidnapped by a stranger (see his book “Protecting the Gift” ). Nevertheless, we probably wouldn’t send our kids out for hours unsupervised either.

On the other hand, we weren’t too keen when a book came out last year with yet another thing for parents to feel guilty about, coining the term Nature Deficit Disorder to describe a syndrome that can be avoided by increased outdoor activity, including hiking, fishing and bird-watching, presumably with a fair amount of parental involvement (at least for younger kids). It’s probably true that some children today are more disconnected from the environment that in the past, but it’s a little irritating to be told our kids will have some kind of disorder unless we strap on the hiking boots. Speaking personally (this is Melanie here), I grew up in the middle of Alaska and I pretty much exhausted the outdoorsy side of myself at a young age. I’m sorry, but I’m just not going to rally the troops and go hiking every weekend. They can do that on their own in college or something.

In all fairness, the Nature Deficit Disorder book is also in favor of unstructured playtime. And here indeed may be the sensible middle ground between feeling obliged to take charge of your kids' outdoor time out of fear of Nature Deficit Disorder, and farming out their fitness to health clubs and personal trainers. How about letting them ride their bikes around the block (or in front of the house) or collect bugs in the back yard when they feel like it?

--Melanie & Kelly

As of this week, two more women (Ellen Johnson Sirleaf of Liberia and Michelle Bachelet of Chile) have joined the ranks of female heads of state. They differ from predecessors and cohorts in that they embraced their maternalism to win their positions (Lydia Polgreen and Larry Rohter, "Where Political Clout Demands a Maternal Touch”, NY Times). For example, Ms. Johnson Sirleaf embraced the nickname Ma Ellen and in speeches often compared Liberia to a sick child needing a mother’s tender, loving care.

Their elections confirm that motherhood and leadership are not mutually exclusive concepts. But any mother of a three-year-old could have told you that.

--Kelly and Melanie

Got an e-mail address or domain name reserved for your baby or kids yet? You might be behind the curve according to an article by Sarah Kershaw in last Sunday’s NY Times. Apparently parents are snapping up web addresses as fast as they can, concerned that vanishing domain real estate may leave their offspring without a good online home when they’re grown. Brutal world when it comes to this, isn’t it?

I regret to confess that this thought actually crossed my mind when I was setting up my own web domains and e-mail accounts. For about three femtoseconds. What I decided in the end is that today’s e-mail address with cachet may be tomorrow’s useless fortran card. Can you say Mosaic, Gopher or dial-up modems? Doesn’t it seem likely that they’ll have figured out something new with the personalized domain/e-mail address concept after eighteen years? Geez, probably after two years.

Now, that said, I must admit that I do own the top level domains for both my married and maiden names. But, hey, I’m an adult. I can do what I want.

--Melanie

The White Lies short story competition judged by Jennifer Weiner has ended with a winner, Judy Blundell of Katonah, NY. When we first heard about this contest (sponsored by White Lies Chardonnay) a couple months ago, we were interested in entering, but we had to pass when one of us…ahem…was discriminated against (California residents were excluded from entering). What do they think: that all we do out here is go to yoga and drink tall extra-foamy warm soy lattes? Actually it’s Kelly who does that, but I digress. The winning entry is a well-executed interpretation of the contest’s theme “White Lies” in a story titled “Infrequent Flier”. Give it a read if you get the chance.

P.S. While we’re on the topic of lies, check out the post by Mom on the Edge that includes a link to a fascinating photo retouching site. Now we know for sure what we’ve always suspected about how those women’s mags manage to make everyone feel so bad about their pores and thighs. You can actually roll your mouse over each image to see it switch from unretouched to retouched.

--Melanie & Kelly

OK, I guess I deserve this for being so smug about my tea set purchase on eBay. It arrived the other day all wrapped in pink tissue paper as promised. But when we put a little tea in the pot we discovered that it had been broken at some point and leaks! Still it is a cute set, Piper doesn’t really care, and she’ll probably break it sooner or later anyway.

--Kelly

Today the nicest thing happened to me. I was having lunch with my friend Jenny and daughter Piper when Piper spied one of those machines that you can try to win a stuffed animal if you can grab one with a metal claw. I used up two dollars worth of quarters but didn’t have any luck. On the last try Piper retreated to our table, saying “I can’t bear to watch.” She was heartbroken when my skill proved no match for the machine. As we were leaving the food court, a teen-aged guy came up behind us with the bear she wanted. He had won it for her and wouldn’t even accept the fifty cents for it.

I'm sure it is highly unlikely that he'll ever be surfing the mommy blogs, but if you happen across this – Thank you again!! Now I will try to go forward into the rest of my day with the goal to keep the good karma flowing.

--Kelly

P.S. Be sure to check out our Thirsty Thursday Special below.

Pull up a chair and pop open a Pacifico. It's time for a Mom Meme. Join us if you want, invite a friend (by tagging them), and/or come back next week when we'll have a new Special.

1. What is the craziest, most over-the-top thing you've ever done so far inthe mad pursuit of being a "Perfect" Mom?

Kelly: Participating in the Pre-School Frenzy when my child was nine months old to get him into a three-year-old program and being upset that I hadn't started earlier.

Melanie: That would probably have to be the zoo birthday party that I threw for my oldest daughter when she was turning five, where I was 8 months pregnant as I frantically hauled several loads to the party site in a red wagon that was loaded with games, music, the perfect cake, a full lunch for adults from a local cafe, a hand-crank ice cream maker, a pinata…you get the picture. The kids even had PB & Js that I cut out in the shape of zoo animals with these Williams-Sonoma cookie cutters. It was total lunacy.

2. Name one real person, television, book or movie mom that you would consider to be a role model. Why?

Kelly: I'm not just saying this because she's my writing partner, but Melanie seems to have it so together - spending time with her kids and doing cool stuff with them, but still retaining herself and her interests - i.e. running, doing her science work, writing, keeping up w/ our blog, etc.

Melanie: Thanks, Kelly! You're too kind, and I'm not sure I should let you get away with that answer. Anyway, this question made me think of the mother bear in the Little Bear movies (based on the Maurice Sendak books). She is so calm and nice all the time. She bakes cookies and lets Little Bear’s friends come over and trash her house, plus she has the best voice and wears a long white apron. I always think of Mother Bear as my ideal!

3. Name one television, book or movie mother that you would definitely not aspire to be like. Why?

Kelly: Joan Crawford or Nikki from our book. Of course, Nikki was based on real life examples. Women who always made you feel like your house wasn't clean enough, your kids weren't well behaved, and you were just generally a mess.

Melanie : Probably the mom Mary Tyler Moore played in Ordinary People, who was so brittle and caught up in having her family look perfect rather than be happy.

4. What's the most horribly expensive and/or silly baby gadget you ever bought?

Kelly: A baby monitor. That doesn't sound too bad into you realize we lived in a tiny two bedroom flat in San Francisco.

Melanie: The Emmaljunga Viking pram I bought for my first daughter which cost a shocking $375 or so in 1998, way more than the typical buggies then. Of course now it would be considered el cheapo compared to the Bugaboo etc. But it lasted through three kids and is still going strong, so it was worth it--and a bargain I guess.

5. If you weren't a mom, what would you be doing?

Kelly: That's a hard question to answer because I think that if I had never been a mom I wouldn't have had this tremendous growth and awareness that I've had since I've had kids and tried to figure myself out. I would probably still be working some executive job and my husband and I would be taking fabulous vacations and driving matching Porsches in our Gold Coast Penthouse. But it would be boring.

Melanie: I think I might have ended up being a biology professor just by path of least resistance.

I saw the magazine Plenty for the first time today, and I’m not impressed. While it is better than the now defunct Organic Style, it still seems to suffer from the need to encourage people to buy more stuff. Given that a recent column in the NY Times described us as a “nation that behaves like a college student who has just gotten his first credit card” (Ben Stein, Sunday’s NY Times; quote of the week in our book), the chair made from recycled shopping carts for $500 just seems silly. And don’t even get us started on Real Simple! What is so simple about cluttering up your place with all that stuff—we don’t care how streamlined it looks. It’s not a bad magazine, it’s just totally inconsistent. At least when you pick up Vogue or People you know exactly what you’re in for. And we love them for it. When Melanie graduated with her Ph.D., the other students in her lab gave her a subscription to People as a going away present.

Anyway, for real recycling, nothing beats eBay or Craigslist. Instead of shelling out for the pricey pseudo-vintage tea set in Land of Nod, I got a real set for my daughter on eBay. And Melanie saved several pounds of metal from the landfill when she sold some old Nutone blender accessories from the 1960’s (they came with her house). Now that’s some serious green.

--Kelly & Melanie

Our caption was: “Intelligent design? My five-year-old could have done this.”

The actual winning caption was “But how will we raise the kids?”

Now come on, which one is more timely, newsworthy and just plain funnier? That’s right. Ours. It’s our blog and we say so.

Anyway, I’m not going to divulge my caption for this week's contest. Actually, I don’t have super high hopes this time because I forgot one of the cardinal rules before pushing the submit button: make the caption short. Mine weighed in at the maximum of 25 words. Well, there’s always next week. I just need to get into fighting shape.

--Melanie

First a confession: I am not a good housekeeper. Hence, I am still coming across various pictures and Christmas cards. My problem is what to do with snapshots that acquaintances enclose in their cards. It seems kind of mean to just throw them away. But at the same time I have enough clutter of my own to contend with. Maybe I should just keep them until I can’t remember who they are and then I can throw them away guilt-free.

--Kelly

The latest issue of Pediatrics reports that S.U.V.’s are no safer than passenger cars. It turns out that the added weight benefit is eliminated by the increased risk of rollovers. Of course, we can blog this with impunity because I drive a Mercedes E320 wagon (okay, I bought it used), and Kelly chose the Volvo XC90 for its internal gyroscope and anti-rollover computer chip.

--Melanie & Kelly

What a wacko. A 47-year-old guy from Columbus, Ohio is the latest internet star, with his site www.deadbodyguy.com, in which he poses as a...yes, dead guy in various scenes around his house. A quarter of a million hits later, he’s still going strong. Everyone’s got to have a dream.

--Melanie & Kelly

This is the kind of thing that drives me absolutely bananas. No, it’s not the sweet little girl pictured on the cover of this advertisement, or even the award-winning Muzzy videos themselves, which I like very much and bought for my own kids on eBay.

It’s the way I come away from the ad feeling vaguely terrible (especially after reading the true success stories of the post-Muzzy kids). And remember, I Already Bought the Tapes!! It’s just that we don’t use them that much…and my kids prefer the English version of the cartoon, which you’re only supposed to watch once or twice to get the story down.

The rational part of my brain tells me there have probably been Ivy Leaguers and Fulbright Scholarship winners who limped along without learning a foreign language from the Muzzy system (not that you’d know it from the copy on the back cover; pictured at right). However, this ad definitely feeds on the primitive, brainstem dog-eat-dog parenting instincts with quotes from satisfied users like, “I love the looks on other parents’ faces when either boy speaks Spanish.” Yikes!

For crying out loud, let’s be realistic here. They can always learn a foreign language in high school the way the rest of us did.

--Melanie

Last night I went out to celebrate my friend Jenny’s birthday. We decided to stay in the ‘burbs instead of going downtown and went to Miramar, a French restaurant with Cuban décor. It was Carolyn’s turn to be the DD (designated driver), so I began the night with one of my favorite libations, a mojito. Needless to say, my Sonoma Diet went by the wayside as I enjoyed escargot, steak frites, and profiteroles. But all was not lost, because Miramar has a backroom with a DJ. Fortifying ourselves with another round, we hit the dance floor. It wasn’t exactly the Viper Room, but it was quite a night on the town for five suburban moms. And I’m paying for it this morning. Hubby was out of town last night, so I had kids jumping in my bed at 6 AM, and while my body may have been rocking last night, today it just feels like it was stoned. (And I don’t mean in a drug reference way, I mean it feels like someone was throwing stones at me).

--Kelly

I am currently listening to Stephen King’s On Writing in an audiobook version, and I have to say it’s fabulous. I’ve had it loaded on my iPod for months and was somehow resisting it--I don’t know why.

It’s interesting to hear him read, and the personal history is fascinating. I also love his analogy about stories starting with a “fossil” of a situation that can be gradually excavated to reveal an outcome that the writer may not have entirely conceived at the beginning.

--Melanie

Last night, I went to see King Kong with my husband and a couple of friends. It was totally fabu. Somehow that giant ape managed to make every other man in the movie look like a total wimp. I loved it when Kong emerged victorious from one of the many fight scenes and just threw Naomi Watts on his shoulder, like “Yo woman, you’re coming with me.” Is that bad?

Of course, some parts of the movie didn’t quite work and others go on too long (most memorably the scene of the dinosaurs in a Running of the Bulls of Pamplona-esque segment, which seems like it will never end.) And I couldn’t resist snickering and whispering that famous line from Jerry Maguire when Naomi and Kong go up to make-out point high above the island to watch the sunset together. Nevertheless, I give this one four enormous prehensile thumbs up.

--Melanie

I was a week late. My husband and I have taken precautions to make sure we don’t have any more children, but there is always that damn .1%. So, I took my three-year-old to a drug store I normally don’t frequent, bribing her with the promise of bubble gum. “What are you buying Mommy?” she asks as I survey the dizzying array of choices. (The market sure has grown since the last time I needed one of these.) I decide to go with the digital readout kind.

I put my daughter in front of Dragon Tales with a piece of gum and retire to my bathroom. Feeling confident that I can pee on a stick, I toss aside the little piece of origami instructions. Then, I notice that the test needs to be ASSEMBLED!!! I pick up the instructions, figure out which end is which, so to speak, and put it all together, just in time to realize that I don’t need it anymore. My little friend has arrived and thankfully announced – “Not Pregnant”. Hallelujah!

--Kelly

It’s that time of year...blog award time. And if you think deciphering the Golden Globes vs. Oscars is confusing, you should try wading through these. Since you’re busy, and we’re insomniacs, here’s the rundown.

The Best Of Blogs just announced their Mommy Blog nominees

The 2006 Bloggies are in process and winners will be announced in March.

In December the Weblog Awards announced their best blogs (including parenting blogs)

--Melanie & Kelly

I want this dictionary sooooo badly I can taste it. I first saw it at Restoration Hardware, and from the moment my eyes landed on it my heart was filled with lust. My brain is trying to have some say, and I’ve been scouring the internet trying to find it for less than Resto’s $99 price tag. It turns out to be more expensive on every website I’ve checked so far…about $150.

I know it looks like an ordinary dictionary, but it’s not. The cover is a soft leather that looks and feels like a fine antiquarian book. The size is perfect. The gold stamping on the cover is gorgeous and the gilt edges make my knees weak. And it contains current words like snarky. It’s perfect. A modern, up-to-date reference volume in a sexy, classic cover.

I am dying over this book. Must have it. Must.

--Melanie

Welcome to our updated blog site. Don’t we look pretty now?

--Melanie & Kelly

Dear Cute Barista,

I’m sorry we can’t see each other anymore. It’s not that I stopped liking my Tall Extra-Foamy 130 Degree Latte (or your cute dimple). It’s just that I can make my own latte now. At home. With the touch of a single button. In ten seconds. Without MOVING MY CUP!!!

Yes, you’ve been replaced by a Super Automatic Jura-Capresso Z5. And I love him.

Au revoir,

Kelly

Yesterday I got a new catalog in the mail. It was from Home Depot. It was nice, I like catalogs. But this one disturbed me, because what I read in the tag line was a sign that I had entered a new demographic category. The ominous tag line on the cover of the Home Depot Catalog was “For Home Enthusiasts.”

Now, I’ve heard of sports enthusiasts, ballroom dance enthusiasts, car enthusiasts, and even (after Googling) whip enthusiasts (with their own vastly preferable tagline “For those who love bull whips, snake whips and stock whips”.) There’s just something depressing about being labeled a home enthusiast. Like the only thing I could possibly muster the energy for is buying some throw pillows.

--Melanie

Yesterday, The Smoking Gun posted the results of an investigation that suggests that key details in James Frey’s famed “A Million Little Pieces” were significantly “embellished” or fabricated. Golly.

--Melanie & Kelly

At least we really are who we say we are.

An article in today’s NYT (“The Unmasking of JT Leroy: In Public, He’s a She” by Warren St. John) describes the accumulating evidence that author JT Leroy doesn’t exist at all. The books written by Leroy are believed to have been written by the woman identified in the article as his adoptive mother. The books were works of fiction dealing with themes relating to Leroy’s harrowing “true” story of a journey from life as a truck-stop prostitute and drug addict to eventual recovery.

It brought to mind Armistead Maupin’s story The Night Listener, which was based on a true experience in which Maupin came to question the truth behind a supposedly autobiographical manuscript he’d been sent by a terminal AIDS patient. Maupin commented on the unfolding JT Leroy story in an article in the San Francisco Chronicle.

For the record, we really are two overcaffeinated mothers who have made the harrowing journey from full time employment to stay-at-home mad motherhood, eventually recovering our sanity, throwing away our Baby Einstein videos and writing a novel based on our experiences in extreme mothering.

--Melanie & Kelly

In a refreshing article, the NY Times (Here Comes the Baby, And an Itch to Overbuy by Hillary Chura) tells parents to lighten up…on the shopping. To paraphrase: you don’t need to bust into the 401(k) to raise a happy, healthy kid.

This flies in the face of a lot of conventional wisdom floating around right now. High end baby and child magazines like the recently launched Bundle (whose tag line is actually “Oh baby, you were born to shop!”) or Cookie are largely, if not entirely based on the concept that parents need to buy stuff. Expensive stuff. And lots of it.

Take for example the $400+ diaper bag by Paulina Quintana featured in the premiere issue of Bundle (shown above). It’s a diaper bag, for goodness sake. It’s to hold diapers. And not necessarily clean ones all the time. If you want to sell a gorgeous, expensive handbag then, okay, go for it. Just don’t make the rest of us feel guilty for schlepping our diapers in an L.L. Bean boat tote. Yep. Don’t get us started.

Back to the NY Times article. Ponder this quote, which comes at the end, from a pediatrician, Dr. Deborah James: “In the effort to do the very best for their children right from the start, [parents] are not only being taken advantage of but being set up for disappointment. If things don’t turn out perfectly, they will blame themselves for not providing the right educational toy, book, video or music for their infant.”

It’s just not healthy. Picture a generation of parents agonizing over whether the reason that their teenager hates them is because they should have gone with the Quintana instead of the Petunia Picklebottom.

--Melanie & Kelly

The Chicago Tribune had a Ten Ways to Improve Your Health article on Sunday. I skimmed though it at first, smug that I was already doing all of the things they recommended (or at least knew about them and had them on my to-do list). Omega-3, check; Don’t Smoke, Check; Yoga, Check; Avoid Cosmetics – What the…? Apparently the FDA doesn’t check to see if the stuff we are putting on our skin is safe for consumption. Why should this bother us given that most of us don’t eat our eyebrow pencils? Because skin can absorb chemicals! Think birth control and nicotine patches. Luckily there is a website that can tell you if your favorite brand of cosmetics (or moisturizer, facial cleanser, nail polish, deodorant, etc) has a high level of harmful ingredients. It also gives you a list of products that have less harmful ingredients. I’m going to miss my Nars Orgasm blush, but I’m sure Aubrey Organics has some lovely colors.

--Kelly

The snow is flying outside, Super Bowl plans are being made, what a perfect time to think of…Summer Camp! Last year was my first experience with this phenomenon, but since it seemed to be what all the other parents were doing, I did it too without thinking too much about it.

This year I am having second thoughts. My oldest is almost six and will be entering 1st grade in September. I feel like this is my last chance to have him all to myself. Don’t get me wrong, there will definitely be drop off play dates and some babysitters involved – I haven’t gone that far over the edge, but the days will be ours to spend as we please.

When I was a kid I didn’t go to camps. It was just a lot of playing outside in the backyard. Checking to see if the mail came was the highlight of many days. Here, on the other hand, we have the community pool practically in our backyard, and the beach is a five minute drive away. Not to mention my plans of taking the kids into Chicago once a week to check out different museums, zoos, and parks.

Call me crazy, but I think this year I’m just saying no to camps.

--Kelly

P.S. The kids are screaming at each other as I type this, maybe I should rethink my position…

Have I mentioned my computer troubles lately? Right now I have dueling laptops set up on my desk, and it’s not a good thing.

Here are my computer Do’s and Don’ts for 2006

Don’t:
1. Rearrange your office in a way that puts your desk and computer in the hot afternoon California sun, even if the Feng Shui is clearly better that way.

2. Scatter your software installation keys throughout your e-mail inboxes like leaves in the wind

3. Curse in front of the children when you are trying to figure out how to export your Outlook pst file.

Do:
1. Make liberal use of the nifty “Print Screen” feature on your keyboard. This will copy a screen dump to the clipboard, from which which you can paste it into MS Word. Very helpful for recording all those pesky settings.

2. Keep a crummy old, dinosaur-like laptop around that you can laboriously transfer all your data and software to and use while your other computer is being repaired.

3. Become obsessed with the Feng Shui of your office while your computer is still within the warranty period.


--Melanie

For the holidays I bought my kids the DVD version of School House Rock. Whoever thought of bringing that back on DVD is a genius. Of course, all we Gen X’rs are going to buy it for our kids—they’ll make a fortune. What great memories of watching Conjunction Junction between Bugs Bunny Cartoons and eating Super Sugar Puff Bombs at the coffee table in the living room. Now those were the good old days.

--Kelly

Members of the much maligned Gen X now have another vice to add to their titles of Dot-com Nouveau Riche No Attention Span Slackers: Excessive Braggarts (about our kids). The New York Times reported on this unattractive trend on the front page of the Style Section today. It seems that the Baby Boomer “My Child is an Honor Roll Student” bumper sticker isn’t enough anymore. No, for our generation, we have computer albums full of our progeny, blogs about their accomplishments, and even lawn signs and garage door banners (!) honoring their achievements.

In all honesty though, all the competition between parents does seem to be getting out of hand. This was part of what nearly drove the protagonist of our novel over the edge. In the immortal words of Rodney King, “Can’t we all just get along?”

--Kelly & Melanie

P.S. In case you’re wondering, according to the article, bragging on your own blog is okay, but bragging on other people’s blogs or online forums…not so much.

The holidays have caught up to me and I’m packing around about an extra six pounds or so. I’ve been pretty lucky all my life with a high metabolism and the only times I’ve needed to lose weight were after my first semester of college (skipping the late night pizza feedings did that trick) and after my two children were born (late night nursing feedings did that trick). But my favorite pair of jeans isn’t fitting, so I thought what the hell. I picked the Sonoma Diet because it is NOT a low carb diet. There is no way I could do that, and also because I miss California and I’m sucker for advertising.

So how is it going? Well, for the first ten days you aren’t allowed to have any sugar, not even fruit. I think yesterday I went through a major sugar withdrawal. I was exhausted, I took a nap on the couch and at the end of the night Barry ate a nice, juicy, ripe pear. He hasn’t had such a passionate kiss from me since we were dating.

The good news: The scale says I’m down two pounds. Maybe it’s a mistake, or water weight, or whatever, but I’m taking it!

--Kelly

In the continuing saga of Tessa/Toby/Thalia/Tina the Tamagotchi, a sad epilogue. It is gone, lost forever in the vast morass that is Ralph’s Grocery Store. No amount of looking around on the floors and parking lot could turn it up. I am hoping that we will pass through Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief and emerge on the other side. Right now we are somewhere between Anger and Bargaining.

--Melanie

I’m so proud. My daughter just handed me a thank you note for her Aunt and Uncle.

I may have mentioned my one woman rebellion against the unholy proliferation of unnecessary thank you notes. My theory is that if you open the gift WITH the giver and thank them right then and there, no note is needed.

This becomes especially important when the kids reach birthday party age. I’ve received handwritten notes from the child’s mother when there were 30 or 40 kids at the party. I’ve taken to telling other mothers, “You don’t need to write me a thank you note. It’s enough for us to see little Drusilla enjoying her gift here today.” Not one of them has taken me up on it.

Usually the note duly arrives (written in the mother’s hand) a week or so later, because let’s face it, no six or seven year old is going to write forty thank you notes.

I have occasionally felt guilty for not going with the flow, knowing that the other mothers probably think I’m horribly rude and raising my kids to be ungrateful heathens. Instead, my kids have traditionally written (or dictated) just a few select notes to people who weren't in attendance at their birthdays and Christmas.

Here is an excerpt from the letter my daughter wrote today,
“Thank you for the flower notebook and pen. I will probably use the notepad when I’m finished with my first story and I will use the pen you gave me. The pen is also quite handy as a flashlight in our games. So thanks a lot for them both.”

I must say I feel vindicated, thank you very much.

--Melanie

Yesterday we had our annual New Year's Day open house and the night before I imbibed one (or maybe two) too many Cosmos. I went to bed at 2 AM and had to drag myself out of bed at seven the next morning to clean and put out food and drink for the party that started at noon. A glass of Emer’gen-C (our generation’s answer to Alka Seltzer) and a fried egg and cheese sandwich gave me the strength I needed. Around 30 people showed up and the last guests left at 6:30 that night. Ten seconds later my friend Carolyn knocked on the door bearing hot mondu (which are Korean pot stickers). I ate them up and kicked her out. Sorry Carolyn, but my three-year-old had already crashed on the couch and my soon-to-be six year old had been begging to light the menorah for the past two hours, and I was EXAUSTED. So after unceremoniously getting rid of Carolyn we lit the last of the menorah candles, opened the last present, and put the kids to bed. An hour or so later I also went to sleep without cleaning anything. The happy ending is that this morning Barry let me sleep in, fed and dressed the kids and cleaned up everything. Happy New Year!!!

--Kelly

I confided to my husband that as a goal in 2006 (I prefer making goals rather than the more staid “resolutions”), I want to be able to get in a full lotus position. “What’s that?” asked my yoga-illiterate husband who wouldn’t know a downward facing dog if it bit him in the rear. I described it to him. “Oh, like this?” he asks, executing a perfect specimen. He’s lucky there were witnesses around.

--Kelly

There’s a fascinating short piece in yesterday's New York Times by Terry Martin Hekker that tells a true story that should make moms everywhere (especially those of us who are full time stay-at-home moms) sit up and take notice. She starts by saying, “In the continuing case of Full-Time Homemaker vs. Working Mother, I offer myself as Exhibit A.”

Seems Ms. Hekker wrote an Op-Ed article a quarter century ago about the joys of domestic bliss. She expanded it into a book (“Ever Since Adam and Eve”, published in 1979) and became the poster child for stay-at-home moms, going on a national book tour and appearing on pre-Katie Couric “Today” defending the choice of staying at home at the height of the women’s movement.

As she tells us, “I was predictably stunned and devastated when, on our 40th wedding anniversary, my husband presented me with a divorce.” She received a paltry alimony payment that left her eligible for food stamps and that expired after four years.

Her story is a compelling tale full of memorable zingers. It made us think immediately of Darla Shine, who may just be the new millennium version of the SAHM poster child, with her book Happy Housewives.


Hekker has been there, done that, and turned around 180. She jokes that if she wrote another book it would be called “Disregard First Book.”

Of course, it’s just one woman’s point of view, but Hekker offers her take on things she coulda, shoulda, woulda done differently, had she known what lay in store for her…like furthering her education once her kids were in school.

--Melanie & Kelly