A few months ago Yohannes and I went to the Bahamas for a work conference. I was especially excited, because the last time he went, the conference was on a Caribbean cruise and I didn’t get to go.
It was a four day trip and we left the kids with my parents [insert lots of anxiety here]. The longest I’d ever been away from them was overnight, so this was huge. Aside from the almost $200 we accidentally spent on international phone calls (read ALL the instructions on the phone card!), and a whole lot of mom-guilt, it went very well.
On the first day of the conference, I went back to our room shortly before the keynote speaker began his address. Yohannes stayed. I heard later that the speaker was quite good, but I think I’m generally too cynical to appreciate a good motivational speech, and I didn’t want my uncontrollable tendency to whisper snarky comments to diminish anyone else’s enjoyment. (“Achieve World Peace In 10 Easy Steps.” How conveniently simple.) Read More →
8:00 a.m. Saturday, October 10, 2009 – The nagging abdominal pressure is back for the fifth or sixth time in half an hour, so it’s probably time to get up. I assess the aches and pains in my back and hands before scooting myself to the edge of the bed and trying to get enough leverage to roll into a sitting position. Yohannes is still fast asleep, so I hobble to the bathroom to take a bath which is becoming part of my daily routine (sometimes twice daily). Getting in the bath feels like trying to get a turkey into a two-quart saucepan, but the hot water feels great, and I can hardly bring myself to get out again. I’m 40 weeks and 3 days pregnant, and the timing is perfect. My sisters are visiting for the weekend, and all I have to do is get through a wedding and a birthday party and then I’ll be ready. And if the contractions feel like this the whole time, this whole “having-a-baby” thing might not be nearly as bad as people make it out to be. The pressure turns to a dull pain, and continues to ebb and flow every 7 minutes or so, but it’s mild, and hardly worth mentioning to Yohannes, who will no doubt take it as a sign of the impending Armageddon. I decide to wait until we’re walking into the wedding before mentioning it. Read More →
An inquisitive child can generate more questions than a room full of reporters at a press release about a celebrity sex scandal. Here are my feeble attempts to answer a few of the whoppers that were thrown at me this week.
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Dear Corporate Sock-Making Entities,
I’d like to start by introducing myself. I’m one of the thirteen kazillion moms who spent a solid thirty minutes sorting through unmatched socks yesterday, and I’d just like to say: I’m on to you.
Several months ago, as I browsed through the isles of the clothing department, and later through endless pages of children’s socks on Amazon, I thought to myself, How unfortunate that I can’t find a pack of solid white socks that are all the same. You see, this is all we lowly consumer are really asking of you: to be able to buy sets of socks for our children that are all the same. Read More →
There comes a time in every woman’s life when her car gets rear-ended by a nun. Okay, maybe not every woman, but that’s what happened to me in May. Let’s call this Unfortunate Event #1. Read More →
Dear McDonald’s, You and I have a problem. I know, I know. You get this all the time. But it’s not what you think. I’m not going to complain about your contribution to the obesity epidemic. I’m not going to complain about your low employee wages. I’m not even going to complain about your sexist toys.
The truth is, that despite all of these rather glaring criticisms, I’m still a customer. Read More →
Lily has always known exactly what she wants. She’s very picky about what she wears, and I did not know the definition of the word “preen” until I put this girl in a poofy Christmas dress. She actually spun around, and that is not something I ever showed her how to do. She doesn’t have a favorite color, but if it’s frilly and sparkly, she’s all over it. And because the majority of frilly, sparkly things for two-year-old girls are pink, the majority of her wardrobe is pink. Read More →
Dear “Just A Virus”,
You are the worst. Please leave.
P.S. Why are you still here?
We’ve all heard about the dreaded “Mommy Wars”, where stay-at-home and working moms criticize each other for their life choices. The war has expanded to encompass health-food-obsessed moms vs. moms-who-are-poisoning-their-children, uptight moms vs. lazy moms, etc, etc. Even as you concede that your parenting choices aren’t the best, you’re still doing it wrong.
You might be tempted to brush off these wars as frivolous and cultivate your self-worth based on something other than angry internet comments, but that would be a mistake. While I agree that some of these mommy wars are ridiculous, the truth is that how your run your household can mean the difference between life and death. I’m not talking about home-spun cloth diapers here. I’m talking about Skynet. Read More →