Life in the Candy Cane Forest

I Made a Decision

2008-11-16T21:14:00.000-08:00

After all my indecisiveness... I have made a decision. I am retiring Mama Ginger Tree and I will be blogging as Kirsten over at The Norwindians going forward. And because I like to keep things as confusing as possible, I'm changing everyone's names.

My name really is Kirsten so I'll be Kirsten/Mama Ginger Tree. The rest of my family will go by their middle names. Mr. Mint will be Jay. Lolly and Frostine will be Sejal and Jayne respectively. And Gloppy will be Raj.

Are you confused? Don't worry, you'll get used to it. So change your bookmarks or your blogroll and add The Norwindians to your reader. Or you can keep coming here and reading my archives if you don't like change. I promise I won't change my blog name again at least for another 10 months or so.

Indecisiveness

2008-11-16T06:00:00.000-08:00

I've posted today's Sunday's Simple Pleasure over here today. Go check it out.

I still can't decide whether to switch my blog persona to my other blog, stay here for a while longer or what the heck I want to do. I am usually a very good decision maker. I weigh my options, and mostly just go with my gut and don't look back. I get highly annoyed at when my sister hems and haws and talks all the options to death with everyone she knows before she decides whether to buy cupcakes or a sheet cake for her daughters birthday party. Indecision drives me bananas and strawberries and oranges.

But I cannot make a commitment on this one. I am happy here in The Candy Cane Forest, but I also love The Norwindians. Now that I have things all fancy over there, it just feels like something I could love with long after my family is past the Candyland, lollipops and gumdrops phase of life. Is it better to just switch now if I am going to do it eventually? Am I giving up all my readers by switching? Am I going to want to start a whole new blog six months from now? What is wrong with me?

Can someone please just tell me what the heck to do? Can you call in your decision making crew please? Help!

Healthy Competition?

2008-11-13T20:34:00.000-08:00

There is always some kind of competition going on my house. Who got the cup with the most juice. Who has the best spot in the bed when the entire family piles into my bed in the morning. Who's turn is it to get out of the bathtub first. Who finished their homework first. Who has the most stuffed animals. Who does mom spend the most time with. You get the point.

People often ask me which one of my twins is older. A few people know the answer to that, but my usual answer is neither, they were born at the same time. I don't really want them to know which one is older. I kind of like not having an oldest and a middle child. Gloppy will always be my baby, there's no escaping that, but I don't want to give one of the girls the "I'm older" card. I'm conducting my own little birth order experiment. What will happen if neither of them gets to be the oldest? Besides, whenever anyone tries to guess which is older nine times out of ten they get it wrong. I figure when they turn sixteen and I am forced to show them their birth certificates in order to get their driver's license they'll find out they are only one minute apart and the competition will turn up a notch.

My neighbor who has one child always tells me a little competition is good for them. My children know how to get under each other's skin and are always trying to one up each other. And in the process they drive me a little bananas. But then after I tell them they are driving me bananas they all turn to me and say in unison, "you're driving us strawberries!" Then we all have a good laugh and we love each other again.

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In the spirit of competition, I will now give you my Blogger Football picks for the week. No trash talk, just my picks. Game on.

NY Jets @ New England

Denver @ Atlanta
Detroit @ Carolina
Minnesota @ Tampa Bay
Baltimore @ NY Giants
Oakland @ Miami
New Orleans @ Kansas City
Philadelphia @ Cincinnati
Chicago @ Green Bay
Houston @ Indianapolis
St. Louis @ San Francisco
Arizona @ Seattle
Tennessee @ Jacksonville
San Diego @ Pittsburgh
Dallas @ Washington

Monday Night Game: Cleveland @ Buffalo
Total score: 49

Check out the healthy blogger competition here.

Click It

2008-11-12T22:20:00.000-08:00

Please go here. I promise you it's worth it. Seriously. GO! I wouldn't lie to you.

Hug a Veteran

2008-11-11T14:29:00.000-08:00

In case you weren't aware... today is Veteran's Day. Maybe you didn't have the day off. Maybe you view Veteran's Day as just another day the mail isn't delivered or another annoying holiday when you have to find back up child care. Maybe you simply see it as a great day for a parade.

Whatever your feelings are about the current state of our military or the war our country is tangled in, take a moment to talk to your kids about what today means. We should honor those that serve our country.

That's my mom during Air Force Nurse training circa 1965. This picture was taken shortly before she met a handsome Air Force private seven years her junior who she would marry and have two gorgeous daughters with.

Happy Veteran's Day mom and dad.

Taking My Old Self for a Spin

2008-11-10T14:08:00.001-08:00

Mr. Mint drives a much, much nicer car than I do. I don't really mind. Afterall, I am the one who shuttles the kids around, grocery shops and all those other things that require a minivan. The truth is I have never really cared that much about the car that I drive. My (now four year old) minivan is the first brand new car I have ever owned. I view it as transportation, nothing more. I'm not defined by the car I drive.

Mr. Mint loves his nice car. He has worked his @ss off to afford that car and he deserves it. It's not over the top, just a nice car. He rarely lets me drive it. And by rarely, I mean never. I can't say I really blame him, as driving has never been my forte. But sometimes it is rather silly. If I am going to my book club or to run an errand on the weekend, he never, ever offers to let me drive his car instead of my minivan. Never. Ever. (But I'm not bitter or anything)

A couple of weeks ago he took the kids to his parents house for the afternoon and I had an event to attend that evening. I could tell it was painful for him, but it made no sense to put all three car seats in his car. I can count on one hand the times this has happened in our six years of parenthood... the situations that require him to drive all three kids somewhere and me to be without any kids.

I did what any mom would do with a couple of hours to herself and an empty house. I folded laundry, picked up various shoes, toys and snack remnants from around the house, cleaned the kitchen and took a shower. I took my time getting dressed. I picked out a cute outfit and even put on some lip gloss. I got into Mr. Mints nice car and sank into the comfortable seat. I turned up the radio and cruised down hwy 101 to my destination. I had a very strange, almost giddy feeling I couldn't quite put my finger on. Granted I was attending a very mommy-centric event, but what was that look the valet was giving me as I pulled up to the four star hotel in my husband's nice car? Was he flirting?

Then it hit me as I was walking into the hotel. That valet did not see a disheveled mom in a minivan with a potty on the floor of the backseat, fruit snacks smashed into every crevice, a random shoe under the seat and DVD's strewn about the front console. He saw a smartly dressed, fairly decent looking, relaxed woman. He saw me. The un-mommy me. I almost started crying. But I didn't.

Instead I had a lovely time getting to know some other smart moms and listening to a UC Berkeley Graduate School professer lead a discussion about reading, education and raising our children to love learning. It wasn't about potty training, timeouts, meal time or playdates (not that those aren't discussions I have with other smart moms on a daily basis).

When I got back in Mr. Mint's car to go home. I savored whatever it was that I was feeling. I refreshed my lip gloss, even though I was headed home. I turned up the radio again. And there it was in a flash. That feeling I couldn't put my finger on earlier was me feeling like no one's mommy. No one was asking me to pull over so they could pick up the water bottle they just dropped. No one was yelling for me to turn up their favorite song at the same time someone else was asking me to turn the music down so they could tell me something. No one was bickering. There was no echo of "mommy, mommy, mommy, MOMMY." There was just me, the radio and the road. When I got home all I had to unload was myself. I felt young and refreshed.

Lately I've been thinking about why driving my husband's car was such an intense experience for me. Have you ever seen that Suave commercial? This one:

That is totally me. Except I tried Suave and it didn't really make me beautiful and youthful again.

I have immersed myself in being the mommy for the past six years and I have lost a little bit of the person I was before. I still care about my appearance, but it is hard to find the energy some days to really put an effort into it. Wearing sweats just seems so much more practical and comfortable for days when I will only be dropping off kids here and there and coming home to clean up the breakfast dishes and read blogs. I do "dress up" for when I am in one of the kids classrooms, have an appointment or plan to meet someone for lunch or coffee. But my "mom" wardrobe is very different from when I has a full time office job.

Being a stay at home mom has suited me just fine for the most part. But what I am starting to realize six years in is that motherhood is amazing and wonderful and fulfilling, but is not the end all, be all of life. And that is OK. I'm hard on myself as a mother and want to craft a magical childhood for my children. I enjoy them and I'm nuts about them. But they also suck the life out of me sometimes. Why do I need an evening alone and a drive in a nice car to remind me of my old self? Why does she need to be lost? She would be a good mother too.

What I have been asking myself is what am I really teaching them by having not much of a life outside of being their mom. I don't want my girls, or my son for that matter to grow up thinking moms wear sweats everyday and only venture outside the house for groceries, book club and to vote. I need to find a way to be The Mommy and The Un-Mommy at the same time. It's a struggle sometimes.

I am making myself sound pretty pathetic, which in reality I am not (I hope). I don't have all the answers. I just know that I need to show my kids that there is more to life than listening to Camp Rock songs in the car.

Perhaps I'll take a class at a community college. Or maybe I'll just take Mr. Mint's car out for a spin more often.

Sunday's Simple Pleasures III

2008-11-09T07:00:00.000-08:00

I call this one girls in trees.

The first thing Lolly and Frostine did when we bought this house was climb that tree. At first it set of every mommy safety alarm in my body. "Get out of that tree! We don't climb trees!" I'd yell. "You can play in the backyard, but no climbing trees," I'd admonish as they ran out the back door. Then a few months later it was, "you can only climb the tree in long pants and sturdy shoes." But just like I no longer have a gate at the top of my stairs and my third child never had a wipes warmer, I don't even flinch when they climb the tree nowadays.

They will only wear pants if I beg, plead or give them five M&M's, so they mostly climb the tree in dresses and flip flops. Sometimes they even swing from the branches like monkeys.

Mostly they sit on the branch together and have loud conversations with their friend across the street. It's a pretty harmless tree. And what's better than a little girl who isn't afraid to scuff her knees and get dirt under her finger nails?

Two little girls who love to climb trees... simple as that.

Secret Handshake

2008-11-08T20:19:00.000-08:00

Well you are all screwed now. I figured out how to upload videos to my blog. Not only will you be forced to look at numerous photos of my children, now you will be forced to watch home movies too. Sorry. I promise to keep them short.

My inaugural video is Lolly and Frostine's secret handshake. They made it up all by themselves. I had absolutely nothing to do with it's creation.

Check it out:

In case you missed that last part, it ends with "power to the girls!"

I guess it's not really a secret handshake any longer since I posted it on the internet. Oh well. At least I didn't read their diaries or anything.

Ribbit

2008-11-06T20:25:00.000-08:00

Recently I attended an event that LeapFrog held for Silicon Valley Moms Blog. I have always been a fan of LeapFrog products, so I was excited to attend. I am new to Silicon Valley Mom's and it was nice to meet some of the other contributors and put some real faces to the blogs I have been reading.

LeapFrog put together a really fantastic evening. We mingled for a bit over cocktails and appetizers. There was a lively discussion led by Dr. Anne Cunningham of the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Education. She talked about the importance of reading to children and the discussion spiraled from there. Several teachers were in the room and it was nice to hear their perspective as well. My house is full of books and nothing would please me more than to see my kids grow into avid readers. I got so much out of reading as a kid and I still do. Having fraternal twin girls, I often feel like I have my own nature versus nurture science experiment right in my own house. They each learned to read at their own pace and in their own way. They choose very different books from the library and explore them in their own way. For a much more detailed re-cap of the discussion, you can read Beth's post here.

All three of my kids have Leapster's and it is one of their favorite toys. Those Leapter's have gotten me through many a road trip. The LeapFrog folks made virtually no attempt to "sell" to us and simply allowed us to peruse their products and ask questions at will. I came home with Didj's for Lolly and Frostine and a Tag Reading System for Gloppy. I was planning on saving them for Christmas, but I have no will power. Let me just say... big, big hits with my kids. Gloppy has not let his "magic pen" out of his sight since I gave it to him. I even downloaded the girls spelling list onto their Didj's.

Thank you LeapFrog for caring about education!

Blogger Football: It's Not a Sport, It's a Religion

2008-11-06T15:01:00.000-08:00

I have one kid at my in-law's house and the other two are upstairs destroying the play room with a play date. So I have just enough time to get my picks in before tonight's game. I didn't win last week. I think I was a liiiiiitle too over confident.

So I'll get straight to the point and throw down some picks for the week:

Denver @ Cleveland

New Orleans @ Atlanta
Tennessee @ Chicago
Jacksonville @ Detroit
Baltimore @ Houston
Seattle @ Miami
Green Bay @ Minnesota
Buffalo @ New England
St. Louis @ NY Jets
Carolina @ Oakland
Indianapolis @ Pittsburgh
Kansas City @ San Diego
NY Giants @ Philadelphia

Monday Night Football
San Francisco @ Arizona
Total score: 49

Say it with me people... Yes I Can! Now click on over to Insta-Mom's site and check out the competition.

How To Be a Bad Mom and The Obvious

2008-11-05T20:35:00.000-08:00

How to be a bad mom:

When you pick up your daughters from school, notice one of them is beside herself with joy at the library book she picked up at book borrowing. She is practically hugging it.

You agree it looks like a great book and we need something new to read before bedtime.

When you get home, notice your daughter carrying the book with her everywhere she goes. She checks the bookmark position, reads the title, checks the bookmark position again.

Go about the rest of your day. Help the first graders with their homework. Take all the kids to the park to ride bikes until it starts to get dark. Enjoy the crisp fall afternoon and wish you had a soy latte to warm you up as you watch your kids play. Forgive your husband for telling you he will be working late and won't be home for dinner/bedtime. Make dinner and enjoy make you own taco night with the kids.

Let the kids watch Arthur while you empty the dishwasher so you can load the dishwasher with all the make you own taco dishes. Clean out the lunchboxes and start lunches for tomorrow.

Give all three kids a bath and wash their hair.

Help everyone brush their teeth and comb their hair.

Change into your pajamas and settle in for story time.

Notice the panicked look on your book loving daughter's face when she realizes she doesn't have her beloved book.

Tell her to go downstairs and look for it.

Try to contain your frustration when she comes back upstairs in tears because she can't find it. You just want to read a couple of books and tuck them all into bed before you collapse.

She is having none of your other book suggestions and when you suggest we read her beloved book tomorrow she only cries harder.

Don't hide your frustration from her while you both head back downstairs to look for the book. Look everywhere. Make her go out to the car and search there. Tell her she really needs to learn to keep track of her things and this is ridiculous.

When you can't find the book, tell all the kids that we have now wasted story time looking for the darn book and the all need to just go to bed. Two of them will start crying and saying it isn't fair.

Finally get them tucked in walk downstairs to finish cleaning up. Feel like crap for yelling at your distraught daughter and canceling story time.

Spot the book on the edge of the dining room table about a half hour later.

Bring the book up to your daughter and find that she's still awake.

She's overjoyed that you found the book and puts it under her pillow. You hug her and tell her you love her and she's a good girl.

As you walk out the door, she tells you you're a good mommy.

Your heart will melt and you'll feel even worse for getting angry at her.

Go downstairs and write a blog post about it. Realize even good moms act like bad moms sometimes and isn't forgiveness fantastic.

The Obvious

I've been reading a lot of political posts. A lot. Lots of people have created much better commentary than I could. I voted. I have had numerous conversations with my six year olds about the election and what it all means. I was truly disappointed that Prop 8 passed (click here for an excellent post) here in California, yet happy that Prop 4 did not pass.

This morning we were talking about how important and historical this election was and how I always want them to remember the day America elected a black man into the White House, and I found myself crying. I'm hopeful.

This post here says what I am feeling better than I could. Go and read it and pretend I wrote it. Just kidding. About pretending I wrote it, not about reading it. What are you waiting for? Go.

Save the Daylight

2008-11-03T05:00:00.000-08:00

I've heard some complaints lately about falling back into daylight savings -- it messes with the household routine, kids wake up too early, it gets dark by 5pm, it signals the true end of summer. Personally, I love daylight savings time.

First of all there's the simple novelty of the time changing. In the same way I look forward to the mail everyday to break up the tedium of a long afternoon, the fact that something in my day or week is different delights me.

I enjoy daylight savings on both ends. In the spring, just when my kids are waking up earlier and earlier... it's time to switch the clocks forward and we all sleep past 6am. Then spring turns into summer, summer turns into fall and I notice myself saying, "we don't have time to brush teeth, grab your backpack we're going to be late for school!" Then we switch the clocks back an hour and my mad dash morning problems are solved. The kids wake up earlier and we have time for proper dental hygiene, a decent breakfast, wardrobe negotiations and sometimes I even have time to braid the girl's hair. All is right with the world again.

An added bonus of fall back is the earlier bedtime. I am a firm believer in early to bed, early to rise -- especially for small children. Please don't tell my kids that not all their friends go to bed at 6:30pm.

Sunday's Simple Pleasures II

2008-11-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

I call this week's simple pleasure pajama day. We woke up Saturday morning to pouring rain. Soccer was cancelled and we had no other plans. We stayed in our pajamas until noon, built a fire and played High School Musical sing-along, tennis and boxing on the Wii. Mr. Mint lost a rousing game of Old Maid. Then we had cereal and hot cocoa for lunch before heading off to the movies.

Simple as that.

Blogger Football League

2008-11-01T09:15:00.000-07:00

It's time for football picks! I am feeling quite confidant since last week's success. Did you know I was the big winner for the week? That's right, I'm awesome.

So here are this week's winning picks.

NY Jets @ Buffalo
Detroit @ Chicago
Jacksonville @ Cincinnati
Baltimore @ Cleveland
Tampa Bay @ Kansas City
Houston @ Minnesota
Arizona @ St. Louis
Green Bay @ Tennessee
Miami @ Denver
Dallas @ NY Giants
Atlanta @ Oakland
Philadelphia @ Seattle
New England @ Indianapolis

Monday Night:
Pittsburgh @ Washington
Combined score: 41

Step aside BFLers. I predict the winner badge will come here for a second week in a row. Or not. Time will tell.

Halloween Present

2008-10-31T22:40:00.000-07:00

We decorated out front door.

We hung a family of ghosts in our lemon tree.

We carved our pumpkins.

We created treats for classmates.

We paraded at school and went trick-or-treating with friends. The best part was instead of "trick-or-treat" Gloppy would say "trick-or-treating" at each door.

Tune in 365 days from today for Halloween future. I already have a great idea for a "family" costume. Hope your trick-or-treat bag is filled with Kit Kats.

Boo!

Ghosts of Halloween Past

2008-10-30T22:00:00.000-07:00

I have conflicting feelings about Halloween. I despise getting dressed up. Me and costumes just don't get along. However, I am crazy about dressing my kids up. I love picking out their costumes and parading them around. Of course, I am nuts about all the candy involved in Halloween, but I don't really care for trick-or-treating. When I was growing up, my dad always took us out to collect candy while my mom stayed home and passed out the candy. We don't get any trick-or-treaters in our sidewalk-less, street light-less neighborhood, so all the kids walk one neighborhood over where they go all out. And I mean all out! There is one block where every house spends what seems like thousands of dollars on a new theme each year. At one house, a woman dresses as a witch and opens the door along with her pet rat.

Since no one comes to our door, there isn't really a reason for me to stay home and drink wine while passing out candy. For some reason I hate following my hyped up on sugar kids from house to house in the dark trying to keep up with their friends and not get too frightened by the really spooky houses. To me it's just a dad thing. Last year Gloppy got me out of it when before we even hit one house he was terrified and I mean seriously terrified by a kid in a wolf costume. He would not let go of my neck or lift his head off my shoulder. I had to take him home and put him to bed while Mr. Mint took the girls out to collect sweets. I have a feeling this year I won't be so lucky. He wants a bag full of candy like his sister's.

So I will suck it up and we'll have a good time despite my fear of losing one of my kids in the dark streets to a goblin or other monster. Really it's just the trick-or-treating that I don't like. I love to go to the kids Halloween parades at their schools and see what the popular costumes are and what the Martha Stuart mom's come up with. I love taking pictures in the pumpkin patch and seeing how the pumpkins my kids pick out get bigger and bigger each year. I love the ghost, bat, spider and witch crafts that come home from school. I love carving pumpkins and roasting seeds. I love that in all of my "October" photo collections there are pictures of us at the beach in the beginning of the month, and pictures of us in winter jackets or in front of a cozy fire at the end of the month. I love the crisp autumn air and changing colors on our walk to school. But most of all, I love the Kit Kat's that soon will fill my house.

Here's a little photo tour of our Halloween's past.

2002

This is Frostine and Lolly's first Halloween. They were 2 months old and I was still in new motherhood shock. We didn't go trick or treating and I am surprised I even managed to get costumes. They look pretty darn cute though, no?

2003

I loved their costumes that year. Frostine was a strawberry and Lolly was a lamb. They were 14 months old and I was amazed how far they walked that evening while trick or treating. The strawberry costume is my all time favorite. She looked so darn cute. The next morning they forgot about all the candy, so I probably gained about five pounds that year.

2004

They were still young enough here (just turned two) that I had great influence over their costume choices. Lolly was a glitter witch and Frostine was a pixie. I wasn't able to steal quite as much of their stash that year. I remember being near collapse when we got home since I was two months pregnant with Gloppy.

2005

Aaaaand we entered the princess phase. Three year old Lolly and Frostine were obviously Ariel and Cinderella. There was absolutely no talking them out of it, so I embraced it. They had magic wands, sparkly shoes, the works. My five month old little Gloppy made a quite an adorable little frog. He fell asleep in the baby bjorn about five minutes into trick or treating.

2006

I still have no idea how I talked 4 year old Lolly and Frostine out of being princesses again, but whatever I bribed them with did the trick. They were the most precious kitty cat's ever. The black make-up was a mess by the end of the night, but it was worth it. The only thing 1.5 year old Gloppy could say was "woof" so his costume was a no brainer. It was a good year.

2007

Ah yes. Halloween 2007. I was apparently unable to talk the five year olds out of being princesses. I was however, happy they picked less "popular" princesses and went for Jasmine and Mulan. I couldn't find a picture showing the feet, but the shoes for both costumes were the best part. Jasmine (Lolly) had pink, glittery slides with gold trim, a tassel and an up turned toe. Mulan (Frostine) had gorgeous red flats embossed in gold and an emblem on the top. I tried my hardest to bribe Gloppy out of the Thomas costume. Alas, there was nothing else he wanted to be. Thomas the Train and I do not get along so well. There really isn't a more annoying TV show for children (besides Caillou). But for 2.5 year old little boys, that show is like crack. For a while he refused to wear clothes under his costume. He almost went as "naked trainman." I think the chill in the air changed his mind.

Stay tuned for a recap of Halloween '09 costumes and festivities. It should be a good one.

Queen For a Week

2008-10-29T14:11:00.000-07:00

You know the phrase, "if you want something done right, do it yourself."

Last week I won the loser badge. So apparently no one in my family can pick football teams. Well no one that is, except for ME! That's right. I kicked some Blogger Football League butt and took home the WINNER BADGE this week.

I may not have time to shower every day. I may use the TV as a babysitter occasionally. I may drink a little too much wine now and then. I may not serve a vegetable at every meal. I may be a terrible driver. I may watch reality TV. I may not make homemade Halloween costumes.

But dammit. I'm a WINNER. (at least for this week)

Today

2008-10-28T21:00:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This post is probably a complete yawn-fest. If you are busy and don't have time to read, I won't be offended if you skip it. It chronicles my ordinary, yet really pleasant day. For some reason I felt the need to document it. You've been warned.

All three kids slept until 7am this morning, which is unheard of around here. I have mixed feelings about the upcoming daylight savings time switch. These 7am mornings will turn into 6am (or earlier!) mornings. I could use the extra time in the morning to get everyone ready, but I'll enjoy "sleeping in" for another few days.

I managed to make myself some tea, get the kids fed and the girls dressed for school. Gloppy and I dropped the girls off in the car line in our pajamas. When we got back home I let Gloppy eat graham crackers in my bed and watch TV while I took a shower. The sheets need to be changed anyway and he loved the break from the no food allowed upstairs rule. I even brought him some Cheez-Its after I got out of the shower because he sounded so damn cute when he asked, "cow I have a dwiffent snack pease mama?"

After I finished getting dressed we headed downtown to run some errands. We made a quick stop into

the bookstore. David Sedaris for me, Jon Scieszka for him. Then we walked down the block to the Apple store where I picked up some much needed screen cleaner, I Spy and Arthur software for the girls and a slick cover for my naked iPhone. Then an Apple "genius" told me that the disk drive on my iBook G4 is not working because someone put a business card as far as it would possibly go into the thing. Sometimes my kids try to stick paper in there and call it my "mailbox." It will cost $280 to fix it, or I can go to Best Buy and spend $90 on some other fancy gadget and attach it to my computer. *sigh*

Gloppy and I then decided to walk across the street and grab some lunch. Pasta and lemonade for my little date and a delicious salad for me. We found a table on the patio right next to the cozy fireplace. The conversation was delightful. We talked about our plans for Halloween and our favorite cookies. On our way back to the car we stopped in a kid's clothing store to pick up some black tights for Lolly's costume. I couldn't resist these pink boots for my girls and some adorable pink and brown sweaters. I am trying to do my part to boost the economy so I got Gloppy some new underwear too. Turns out Frostine hates the boots, so one pair will have to go back to the store. Her loss.

We made it home just in time for a nap. I snuck in a few z's myself before I snuck downstairs to spend some quality time with my computer. When Gloppy woke up we went to pick up Lolly and Frostine at school and they proceeded to annoy me by refusing to get dressed for ballet. After much negotiation and possibly a swear word from me, I sent them off to learn third position and Gloppy and I ran to four different stores looking for chocolate filled Oreos, pull apart licorice and red hots to make spiders for school.

As if that wasn't enough to pack into one day... when we got home we had a quick snack and got ready for Diwali. Some friends invited us over to celebrate. It was a lovely evening really. The kids had a great time getting dressed up for the ceremony and eating some yummy Indian food. I have much more to say on this subject. But for today I'll just say it makes me so happy to see them embrace their Indian-ness.

I'm so darn tired. But it was a pleasant day. Namaste and Happy Diwali.

Sunday's Simple Pleasures

2008-10-27T20:58:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been feeling a little off. There has just been a general malaise about my days. I snap at the kids more often, I can't get really excited about cooking (and I love to cook), it takes me forever to answer e-mails, my house is a mess, little set backs annoy me more than usual. There isn't any one big thing that has thrown a wrench in my ability to feel upbeat, but rather lots and lots of little things that add up to a big pile of crap.

I keep saying my kids have been giving me a hard time lately. But I am not really sure that's true. Is it them giving me a hard time, or me having less patience? I'm not excited about doing crafts with them, not excited about trick or treating, not excited to let them help me cook, not excited to play "shopkeeper" or whatever role they want me to play in their made up games. I've been a not so fantastic mom lately, and they deserve better.

They really, really do. My kids are bright, imaginative and they crack me up. So I am giving myself a slap in the face. Smack! Snap the heck out of it. I mean Halloween is Friday people! Can you say Snickers! and Tootsie Rolls! and Lollipops! and hopefully 100Grands and Rolos!!!!!! All I have to do is dress my kids up and follow them around the neighborhood and they collect CANDY. It's not just the upcoming candy windfall, I have so many things to be happy about and thankful for. I mean just look at those faces.

So I am starting a regular feature here in the Candy Cane Forest. I call it "Sunday's Simple Pleasures." Every Sunday I'll bring you something that makes me happy. I know today is Monday, and most of you will probably read this on Tuesday. But whatever... it will usually be on Sunday.

This week I give you my little green teapot.

Every morning I boil some water and fill my little teapot with these tea leaves from the Indian grocery.

I let it steep for a few minutes then pour myself a cup with a splash of half and half. Regular milk is an OK substitute, but half and half is my guilty pleasure. I love to feel the hot, ceramic mug in my hands and that first, creamy sip is heaven. Sometimes I only manage a couple of sips before it gets cold. Sometimes I have time to reheat it, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I have just a half a cup, sometimes I have three. I could probably survive without my morning cup of tea, but I very rarely go without it.

So simple and yet my lovely little green teapot is as essential to my morning routine as brushing my teeth. It makes me happy.

I Won Something

2008-10-24T22:39:00.000-07:00

Well, actually Lolly won this for me.

It's called the "Loser Badge." Last week my darling Lolly made my BFL picks for me. Remember that? Yeah, she didn't do so well, bless her heart. When she asked me if her teams won I answered, "well a couple of them did." And that was not a lie. She only got two out of about fourteen picks right. It's OK, I still adore her and she was thrilled that she won the badge above for me. Leave it to Lolly to find a silver lining.

I sure as heck am not going to let her pick this week. I decided to give it a go myself this time. It may prove to be just as disastrous, time will tell. Here are MY picks.

Oakland @ Baltimore
Arizona @ Carolina
Tampa Bay @ Dallas
Washington @ Detroit
Buffalo @ Miami
St. Louis @ New England
San Diego @ New Orleans
Kansas City @ NY Jets
Atlanta @ Philadelphia
Cleveland @ Jacksonville
Cincinnati @ Houston
NY Giants @ Pittsburgh
Seattle @ San Francisco

Indianapolis @ Tennessee
Total score: 49

Now get yourself over here and check out the competition.

The Cart of My Dreams

2008-10-21T21:22:00.000-07:00

I am a supermarket snob. I am not ashamed. Safeway, Lucky, Albertsons... they are beneath me. I prefer to shop here and here (of course) and OMG who can resist this store! Not me. I am a slave to these stores.

Draeger's, my sweet Draeger's, you roped me in with your fresh, lovely salad bar and bakery that is to die to for. Your wine selection is unbeatable, you even have a tiny tasting room almost hidden among the wine section that nearly takes up half the store. You are killing me with the upstairs specialty store. I can get any cookie cutter shape imaginable, a springform pan or even adorable birthday party supplies along with my groceries. The men behind the meat counter always cut my chicken breasts into stir fry pieces for me, flirting with me the whole time and telling me my kids are the cutest you've seen all day. You have every random ingredient I could ever imagine and some I don't even know what to do with. Best of all, you are so close to my house and my kids (OK, me too) love the free produce samples.

Whole Foods... I adore you. Walking into your well stocked and inviting produce section nearly sends me over the edge. Then you go and let my kids choose a healthy snack like an apple, a fruit roll or some bunny crackers to eat for free while we shop. Your selection of cheeses sets my heart on fire. Then you have to go and add all those pre-packaged, healthy salads, sandwiches and all kinds of other stuff. Your staff is friendly and helpful and always point me to the yogurt which for some reason is not where one would logically assume yogurt would be. My addiction to you only worsened when you built a brand new, gorgeous store right next to a Peet's Coffee shop.

Trader Joe's, you need no love song. Every mother knows the value you have added to our lives with your inexpensive, yummy foods. My kids are addicted to your frozen french toast and I have developed my own little problem with your Kettle Korn and real brewed ice-tea.

While Draeger's does sell Diet Pepsi and plain old French's mustard, the prices are outrageous. So once in a while, I will slum it and make a trip to Safeway for some basics. I used to do all my shopping exclusively at Safeway until I was enlightened. Alas, I am trying to turn over a new leaf and save some money rather than indulge my grocery shopping whims. So today, Gloppy and I hit the local Safeway.

Damn you Safeway. You had me with the "cart of my dreams." My kids always want to get the cart with the little car in front. You know the one. The one that is impossible to maneuver so that you give your kids whiplash every time you try to turn a corner and whack into something or someone. The one where other shoppers see you coming and run the other way. I used to work up a sweat pushing that damn thing with little Lolly and Frostine in the car and Gloppy strapped to my chest in a Baby Bjorn. I hated that cart with it's slimy seatbelts and flimsy door.

But Safeway, now you go and bust out the big guns. "The cart of my dreams." Gloppy and I walked into the store and he immediately spotted a small row of blue carts with Barney on the door. We walked over to check it out. He got in one while I noticed the small kiosk nearby. The kiosk asked me which TV show I would like my son to watch. What? OK, I'll play along. He chose Thomas the Train and as soon as I pushed the button it started playing on the little screen in the front section of the new car cart. Oh, this cart was much, much easier to steer through the aisles and the doors lock from outside so Gloppy couldn't make a break for it. There was even a cup holder for me and a little screen that seemed to know where in the store I located. It would flash ads for popsicles in the frozen food aisle or pasta in the pasta aisle. I didn't mind the ads, they were easy to ignore.

This was the best shot I could get of the of "the cart of my dreams" since Gloppy kept telling me "no pictures in Safeway mama." He has strict rules about when I can take his picture and when I can't. Apparently grocery shopping in Safeway is not on his list of OK photo ops.

He barely made a peep while I cruised the store and he doesn't even like Thomas that much. He never once tried to sneak something in the cart or asked me to buy Lucky Charms. When we reached the checkout, your friendly little voice told Gloppy his show was almost over and you had a fun time with shopping with him.

So damn you Safeway, I may be back sooner rather than later. It wasn't your $7.00 roast chicken that made me fall in love. Draeger's amazing roast chicken is $13.00. It wasn't your 4 boxes of pasta for $5.00 or your sale on Diet Pepsi. Heck, even my favorite feminine hygiene products were dirt cheap. No Safeway, it wasn't even the in store Starbucks than won me over. It was the oh, so very lovely "cart of my dreams."

Scenes From My Day: A Journey Through Choices

2008-10-20T22:26:00.000-07:00

I started my day pissed off. I didn't sleep really well. I have a busy week coming up. Lots of classroom volunteering, play dates and we are hosting 40 parents from Gloppy's preschool here for a cocktail party on Wednesday night (pray for me). My house was a disaster. I was not looking forward to my day.

This week is Red Ribbon Week at Lolly and Frostine's school. Which means they spend the week learning about "making healthy choices" and doing silly things like "wear your clothes inside out and be healthy from the inside out!" Or my favorite, "sock it to bad choices by wearing crazy socks to school!" It's actually a great program and my kids love it. As I was packing their lunch boxes, they asked for "healthy food" and "no candy!" So here are some snapshots of my day and some of the good and bad choices I made.

Breakfast went well fairly well despite by foul mood. We were not running late, but we didn't really have time to dilly dally either. All day on Sunday my kids had been working on these. Rather than clean it all up before I went to bed on Sunday night, I left it all out on the coffee table. That was a bad choice. Of course once they stared in on that project, they were not too enthused about getting dressed and brushing teeth. Once I finally pulled them away for craftville, we were too late to walk to school and I hadn't gotten myself dressed. Luckily their school has a drop-off and I didn't need to get out of the car.

On the days Gloppy has preschool, I have a little over a half an hour after I drop off the girls to get Gloppy to school. Sometimes we go get coffee, but today we choose to come home and get dressed. That was a good choice since his school doesn't really frown kids in their pajamas, but I don't think they appreciate mom's in their pajamas. Sid the Science Kid was on, so I let him watch it while I did the dishes. We have just enough time to get dressed and get to school when the show is over.

For some reason, Gloppy picked today to throw a monster temper tantrum when I asked him to get dressed. It was awful. I was frustrated because I had a lot to get done in my 2.5 hours of free time and he was starting to cut into my freedom. I tried everything I could think of... I bribed him with candy, cookies and Diet Pepsi (yikes!!). I begged, I cried, I let him pick out his own clothes. He was crying like I was asking him to cut off his leg! He finally tore off his clothes and cried and cried and cried some more. He finally put his clothes on when I threatened to throw his blankie in the trash and leave without him. It broke my heart to see his naked little body come after me to rescue his blankie. He put on new underwear that he chose himself and a new pair or clothes that he chose himself. As a final dig to me I think, he put his clothes on backwards. He said, "I'll put these on, but only the wrong way." I chose not to care. I think this was a good choice.

By the time we got to school, I was a wreck. He was crying the whole ride to school saying he didn't want to go. When I asked him why, he said none of the kids like him. That was like a stab to the heart. I think he gets overwhelmed trying to keep up with all the other kids when he just hobbles around on his bad leg. He agreed to go in and check his cubby for pictures, then he wanted to go home. Once we were inside he picked up a truck and said good-bye to me. By the time I got to the parking lot, I was emotionally drained and started crying. Actually, I was sobbing. I ran into the mom whose little boy I was supposed to take home for a play date. Hooray! I'm sure it instilled a lot of confidence in her that the mom taking her some home was crying in the preschool parking lot. Not a great choice. She is actually a very cool mom. She gave me a hug and plate of cookies! I told her I would be fine by pick up.

After spending my 2.5 free hours running around cleaning up my house so my cleaning lady could clean my house later that afternoon I ran out the door for preschool pick up. There are two "choice" parking spaces in their tiny parking lot and I like to get their early to get one. I don't really care that much about parking spaces, but Gloppy freaks out if I don't get one of those specific spaces. As I was rushing out the door, I asked myself, "what the hell are you doing?" I could have five more minutes of free time. Who is the mommy here?! He will have to learn to deal with a sub-par parking space. Score one for mommy. That was a good choice.

Later on in the evening I was reading blogs and I came across this post. Reading it was a good choice. She is delightfully funny. It got me thinking about how many times someone may have written a blog post about me after a random encounter in the grocery store, at school or where ever. I hope it was a funny post.

I also chose to watch some TV. Warren Sapp dancing the hustle makes me happy.

I choose to be happy.

About Me

2008-10-20T21:21:00.000-07:00

I have a category of my blog called, "about me." Isn't that sort of silly? Aren't all my posts "about me" since it's, you know, MY blog?

Just a thought.

Not About Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows

2008-10-19T09:19:00.000-07:00

Lately I've been feeling a little "off." Every time I sit down to write something I get discouraged because I sound like a whiner. I figure I'll just write about all the things that are bothering me. Maybe if I get it all out, I can move on. So if you are looking for sunshine lollipops and rainbows, this may not be the post for you. Come back in a few days.

This is going to sound nuts, but the weather here in the Bay Area is really starting to bother me. It's October and the temperature has been between 80 and 90 degrees in the afternoon. I love summer and I embrace the hot weather for the summer months. But summer is OVER. I am ready for hot cocoa and pajamas with feet. I want to wear jeans and sweaters and closed toe shoes rather than flip flops. I want to walk to the end of my driveway to get the trash cans without sweating. I want to bundle up my kids and splash in rain puddles. Then bring them inside, build a fire and eat soup with crusty french bread in front of a movie. ENOUGH with the Indian summer already.

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My house. I won't elaborate on this one, since you've heard it all before. But I am hosting a parent get together for Gloppy's preschool here on Wednesday and my house has a loooong way to go before it's considered presentable. I have a lot to do between now and Wednesday.

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Mr. Mint and I had a fight last weekend. A scream at each other in front of the kids, nasty fight. It was mostly my fault. I can admit when I've screwed up. No one was unfaithful or anything like that, but it was a big fight. He hasn't really said more than two words to me all week. Not that I don't deserve the silent treatment, but can we just talk about it and move on now!! I get it. You have been angry at me about this for a long time and now I get it. You win. I'm sorry.

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I'm just going to come out and say it. Neither one of our presidential candidates really gets me excited. I don't really like to talk about politics. Not because I don't have opinions about it, but more because others have such strong opinions this year. I am definitely leaning in one direction and for reasons I feel strongly about, but you won't hear me lay those out on my blog. I admire those that do and are so very well informed. Our country is in a bad place right now and I don't really think one man, be it McCain or Obama can change it all on his own.

I am terrified and discouraged about the state of our economy. Mr. Mint works for an investment bank and for the first time I am scared about the future of his company and his job. He has been telling me for at least two years that things are getting bad and we are headed for a serious depression, but I blew him off. Americans have been living beyond their means and it is finally time to pay the piper. Fortunately, Mr. Mint is a smart man and we did not buy a house that we couldn't really afford. We may not be able to remodel it as quickly or as elaborately as I had once hoped, but don't cry for me. My kids attend a great public school and have shoes on their feet. I used to shop with out much thought as to wether or not we truly needed what I was buying or if we could afford it. I would go on a shopping spree and buy the kids some cute outfits they didn't really need and Mr. Mint would get angry and tell me about the coming recession and blah, blah, blah. Well now I get it. I scrutinize things at the grocery store and ask myself if it is really necessary to buy Gloppy another train for his train set just to avoid a tantrum in the toy store. I opt for the store brand and the tantrum.

I don't think either candidate has a plan to get us out of this mess and I don't think one person can get us out of this mess. I am almost glad that the housing market has blown up. It's painful for lots of people, but at least things can get back to normal. Buying a house should be something that you work hard for and earn because you sacrificed and saved money for a down payment and have good credit.

Every Saturday on the soccer sidelines it's all we talk about with the other parents: the election, the economy, the stock market. I see the worry in the face of my friend who is paying two mortgages right now, just reduced the price her house she's trying to sell. Her husband works for a hedge fund. She is worried sick.

I'll vote for the candidate I think will instill hope in people and possible restore the rest of the world's faith in America. There is really no point to my rambling other than I am disappointed with where we are right now and I don't think either McCain or Obama will save us.

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Gloppy. His leg is much better, but he still walks with a noticeable limp. He holds his own at preschool, but I think it is difficult for him to hobble around amidst 15 other kids running and pushing. He is beyond tired when I pick him up. He basically has been testing my patience since he injured himself. He has tantrums at the drop of a hat and hits me when I try to calm him down. I am trying to remain calm, but sometimes I feel like losing it at the end of the day. He has been in time out more often that I care to admit.

I know this will pass and he will be back to him normal, charming, loving self at some point. But right now I am not enjoying three years old.

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Just so I don't leave you feeling depressed and discouraged... I'll leave you with this.

BFL Picks

2008-10-17T18:08:00.000-07:00

So no big surprise here... my picks last week did not bring the winner badge to my site. So here we go again, I have to get lucky at some point. Right?

This week Lolly picked for me. She really knows her stuff for a six year old. I'm not going to trash talk the competition, since that doesn't seem to get me anywhere. So good luck to my competitors. May the best six year old win.

San Diego @ Buffalo
New Orleans @ Carolina
Minnesota @ Chicago
Pittsburgh @ Cincinatti
Tennessee @ Kansas City
Baltimore @ Miami
San Francisco @ NY Giants
Dallas @ St. Louis
Detroit @ Houston
Indianapolis @ Green Bay
NY Jets @ Oakland
Cleveland @ Washington
Seattle @ Tampa Bay

Denver @ New England
Total score: 56

You can check out the other players here.

Love/Hate

2008-10-13T21:19:00.000-07:00

I love my house. I hate my house. No, no, I love my house. Argh! I hate this damn house.

We bought our house fully aware of it's flaws. The bathrooms have not been updated since it was built in 1935 and the kitchen had a partial upgrade sometime during the late '50's. It's a diamond in the rough. But we fell in love with it's charm, character, history, perfect location and massive backyard and fantastic potential. It's our forever house. I have visions of at least one of my children getting married here someday. When we remodel, we want to do it right, and it will be amazing.

We've been planning our remodel since we moved in two years ago. I never thought it would take us this long, but you know, life gets in the way. We hired an architect, fired and architect, hired a new architect, got approval from five of our neighbors and finalized our plans. The city building and planning department seems to be moving at a snails pace. Then the stock market fell apart and we are tightening our belts and not feeling so secure about things right now.

I'm frustrated. I can't stand my kitchen. It's dark and cut off from the rest of the house. The oven burns everything I try to cook no matter what I do. The drawers don't shut properly and the paint is chipped. Don't even get me started on the bathrooms. Ugh. I sometimes feel like we live in a tent, the windows are so flimsy. There is a huge hole in our living room ceiling where water dripped down from a leak in the master bathroom shower.

I know that we are lucky to even have a house that we are not at risk of losing (knock super hard on wood). We are lucky to live close to a public school that we are happy to send our children to. We are lucky to have enough space inside and outside for our family of five. And we are lucky to have enough space to host our family and friends for holidays and birthday parties. I know all this.

But this house and it's 73 year old quirks are starting to get on my nerves. Today the plumbing betrayed me. After three of us used the toilet, it decided to clog and overflow. My downstairs bathroom flooded, which is right off the kitchen. It was a seriously nasty flood if you know what I mean. I put some towels on the floor and raced out the door to get the girls to tennis lessons. When we got home I got out the plunger, held my breath and plunged the heck out of that old, stinky toilet. It was not pretty. I fixed the toilet, but I couldn't bring myself to clean the floor yet. I think I need a hazmat suit. Anyone have one I can borrow?

For now I just shut the door and told the kids not to open it under any circumstances. I went upstairs to change my clothes and when I came back down Lolly had taped this up on the door.

It made me smile.

For more background on our lovely home, go here. Be sure to read parts 1 and 2 as well.

The Sixth Photo in the Sixth Album

2008-10-12T19:27:00.000-07:00

I was tagged by my friend PsychMamma for a fun photo meme. The rules are to choose the sixth photo from your sixth album and post it along with a description or the story behind it. Here's what I came up with:

It was taken in August of 2006. We were on vacation in Tahoe with my sister and her family. That's our cousin Seesa, Lolly and Frostine having a snack on the beach. I'm not sure if they are pointing at the bird or something else. Lolly and Frostine were 4 years old and Seesa was almost three years old. I hope the three of them have a lifetime's worth of memories from all these family vacations together.

That was our last summer vacation in Tahoe before we started going to Bass Lake instead. Tahoe is great, but the water is freezing. While the beaches are scenic, they are not so great for spending the whole day there building sand castles and swimming. We would rent a boat for one or two days, but it was so cold and windy out on the lake that no one had that much fun. You had to wear a wet suit if you wanted to water ski, too much work in my opinion.

At Bass Lake we spend everyday out on the boat or swimming off our dock. We also like feeling like we are somewhere less populated than the Bay Area. It feels more like a traditional lake vacation.

Here are the six people I'm tagging. Leave a comment with a link if you decide to play along.

Maura, Andrea, Susie, Carrie, Kate, Insta-Mom and HeartAtPreschool and Inzaburbs

OK, I broke meme protocol and tagged eight people. I'm a rebel.

1st and 10, Do It Again!

2008-10-10T19:21:00.000-07:00

It's time once again for my Blogger Football League picks. I've had help from Lolly and Frostine (that didn't work out so well). Last week Gloppy made a go at it (I came so close to winning!). This week Mr. Mint is helping me out. I have a feeling that winners badge is headed my way. Don't get too comfy with it AmyInOhio.

Baltimore @ Indianapolis

Miami @ Houston
Chicago @ Atlanta
Detroit @ Minnesota
Oakland @ New Orleans
Cincinnati @ NY Jets
Carolina @ Tampa Bay
St. Louis @ Washington
Jacksonville @ Denver
Dallas @ Arizona
Philadephia @ San Francisco
Green Bay @ Seattle
New England @ San Diego

Monday night game:

NY Giants @ Cleveland

Total points: 56

Pop on over to Insta-Mom's place to check out the competition.

Something's Missing

2008-10-08T19:40:00.000-07:00

Indulge me for a moment if you don't mind. Imagine you are the mother of three children. You have had a very busy week and have a lot on your mind. Your three year old son has not put weight on his injured leg or walked for the past four days. Which means you have carried him everywhere. Up the stairs, down the stairs, to the bathroom, to the car, in from the car... everywhere. And since you wrote a post about how fast your kids are growing up and how much you miss their baby-ness, of course your darling son has reverted to acting like a baby. He uses baby talk and has crying fits because you dared to put carrots on his plate. You are so tired.

You scheduled a dentist appointment for your twin girls on a day you knew your son would be in school. But since he hasn't been able to walk, you can't send him to school. So you pile all three kids in the mini-van and head to the dentist. Of course your children's dentist is in San Francisco since that is were you lived two years ago. Now you live in the suburbs so it will take at least 30 minutes to get there, possibly longer depending on traffic. Parking at the dentist is pretty much nonexistent, so you need to tack on extra 15 minutes in order to find a parking space.

You are feeling lucky when after just one trip around the block you spot someone pulling out and you are only about a half of block from the dentist office. The spot is a little tight and your bumper is slightly blocking someone's driveway. But your late, so you go with it.

You're hoping to get in, get their teeth cleaned and get out so you can get the girls back to school in time for an assembly. Of course you have to hold your son on your lap the whole time because he won't stand up. Your arms ache from carrying him around. The girls need x-rays and fluoride and your son wants to share his pretzels with the office dog. The dentist wants to chit chat about loose teeth and flossing. You finally get everyone their new toothbrushes, stickers and toys. You write the dentist a check while holding your three year old son and make your next appointment.

As you're walking to the car you have a sinking feeling in your stomach for some reason. You reach the spot where your car should be and there is no mini-van, but a gardening company truck instead. You walk a little further down the block pushing the alarm button on your keychain which makes the car honk it's horn, just to be sure you aren't looking in the wrong place. You hear nothing.

You panic and assume your car was towed. There is no way you will get the girls to the assembly on time. You call your husband who works in San Francisco and he agrees to come and rescue you. The kids are hungry and asking a million questions. Your husband picks you up and you head across town to the tow yard to bail out your car. When you finally get to the tow yard, they do not have your mini-van. After spending 20 minutes on the phone with the department of parking and traffic, you realize that your mini-van was not towed and is not on it's way to the tow yard.

Now your kids are really hungry and cranky and you they've overheard you and your husband use several swear words. You come to the realization that your car was stolen. Stolen along with your daughters backpacks, three car seats, your travel coffee mug, several DVDs, a PlasmaCar, a couple of empty juice boxes, countless smashed goldfish crackers and your favorite sweater. You start crying and the kids start crying. Your husband calls your insurance company.

You all get back in the car and head to the police station to file a report. On the way there, you send out a quick Twitter about your stolen car and your lovely friends send you sympathy and love over the internet. You try to entertain your starving kids while your husband fills out a police report. Your non-walking three year old son is getting heavier and crankier by the minute. You have a headache and your arms feel like they are going to fall off.

Before you head for home and try to rent a car, you and your husband decide to drive back across town to the scene of the crime just to be sure your mini-van is not there. As you turn the corner onto the street you were parked on, your heart drops as you see the tail end of a silver mini-van with a familiar dent on the passenger side. It's just a few cars down from where you stopped looking for it earlier. Your husband looks at you like you are a complete idiot and thankfully doesn't say what you know he is thinking. Your famished kids cheer and practically kiss the car they thought was gone forever.

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I am sure I will be able to laugh at the story someday, but not today. Today I am emotionally drained and pissed off. I'm pissed off at myself. I feel so stupid. I have been unable to keep get my act together ever since school started. I can't keep anything straight. It's not the big things, it's all the little things I have running around in my head that make me feel overwhelmed. When is the ballet tuition due? Whose library books are due on Wednesday and whose are due on Thursday? How much milk is left in the fridge, do we have fabric softener or toilet paper at home? What gift should I buy for the birthday party this weekend and when will I have time to buy it? What time is our soccer game and is it our turn to bring snacks? Do we have everything we need for Halloween? When is the gift wrap fundraiser money due?

It's the details that are kicking my @ss. I look around me and see women who seem to have it all under control. They are well dressed and turn in their forms on time. They have time to work out and return e-mails. Why is it that I can't seem to find a system that works for me and my family? How did I get so distracted that I could not find my own mini-van and reported it stolen??? Why do I feel like I am functioning with half a brain? What am I missing?

I don't expect answers to any of these questions. I am just so frustrated with myself. Maybe I will be able to get my act together by Christmas break. Hopefully I won't "lose" my car again... or one of my children.

Job History

2008-10-07T20:42:00.000-07:00

My first job out of college was as a receptionist at a head hunting firm, or as they like to call themselves, an executive search firm. In order to be a successful head hunter you need to have a big ego and be just a little bit crazy. I loved the job and the crazy people who worked there. They had a whole floor in a fancy building. They worked hard, and they played hard. There was always someone to grab drinks with after work and I made some really good friends there. I loved getting dressed up, taking the bus to work and feeling like a real grown-up.

It was the early nineties and there were only two computers in the whole office. I had one that I used to type letters and resumes and the accountant had the other one. There was no e-mail and no internet. That meant that when people were bored they came to the front desk to chat with the receptionist. Since I also answered all their phone calls, I knew everyone's secrets. I knew who was taking Prozac, whose kid was about to be suspended for getting caught smoking pot, whose wife was having an affair, who was looking for a new job and who had a boyfriend and a girlfriend.

The only problem was the pay. I barely made enough to pay my rent and make my student loan payments. If I needed new shoes or groceries, I had to dip into my savings. After about a year, I had enough of the "fun job" and wanted a job where I used my brain. Beside, by then everyone had a computer and e-mail, so the front desk chit chats were less frequent. The thing about head hunters though, is they have lots of connections.

They helped me land a great job in the Human Resources department of our local trash and recycling company. It doesn't sound very glamorous, but the work was interesting and the pay was decent. At least the offices were across the highway from the landfill so the smell wasn't too bad. There were only four people in the HR department: myself, another twenty-something woman who was a single mom, the head of HR and his assistant. The head of HR was an ex-military guy who ran things very much like me was still in the army. He insisted everyone in the department call him Mr. Duncan* and treated us more like minions than co-workers. He sat in his office with the door closed a lot, so we had a lot of time to make wise cracks about Mr. Duncan behind his back. I stuck it out for a little over a year, but decided to quit when I realized the company was run by a bunch of old boys, and I had enough of Mr. Duncan.

After that I worked a few temporary jobs. I spent a week giving handwriting samples for a tech company working on handwriting recognition software, various phone answering jobs and even taught preschool for a short time. One temp job I had was for a big ice cream company in the East Bay. My job was to input entries for a contest into their database. The contest was to come up with a new ice cream flavor and the five winners got a trip to their factory to create the flavor and vie for the grand prize. I spent two weeks there entering people's ice cream flavor ideas. The most popular flavor idea sent in was some sort of combination of chocolate and raspberries. I had a great time there and they even offered me a full time job. I turned it down though because of the commute. But the real reason was that they kept their kitchen stocked with all kinds of ice cream that employees could help themselves to anytime they wanted. I knew having unlimited access to all that ice cream would lead to very bad things for me.

I ended up getting a job at an investment bank. Things were good. It was an interesting job with lots of perks. It was the dot com boom, so there was always a new and exciting deal going on. The head of the company would come around with a beer cart on Friday afternoons. I worked with smart people who knew how to celebrate success. I also met a guy at the company Christmas party and we started dating. After that young guy and I decided to move in together I decided to look for another job. Living together and working together was getting to be a bit much. I spent four years there and walked away with some great work experience and a husband!

My next job was at a management consulting firm. I didn't work as a consultant, but had a job that I loved behind the scenes. Not only were my co-workers smart, they were genuinely nice people. It was a fantastic place to work. People respected each other and they didn't just talk about new ways to do things. If someone had a good idea, they implemented it and gave it a try. Men were given paternity leave and new mothers had the option of flexible hours when they returned from maternity leave. The kitchen was stocked with healthy snacks as well as cookies and soda. I truly enjoyed my job. I worked there for 6 years before I left after the birth of Lolly and Frostine.

I still keep in touch with most of the people I worked with there. I miss the office, my job and the free snacks. I haven't worked in an office for the past six years. People often ask me if I plan to go back to work at some point. I really don't know. Right now it doesn't make any sense for our family. Especially with Mr. Mint on the road so often. I have been feeling that pull for something more in my life, but I am not sure what. Right now, blogging fills the void. I loved my previous job, but not enough to give up time with my kids. If/when I do go back to work, I have no idea what path my career would take. Going back to an office job after spending six years making bottles, doing dishes and watching Diego scares the daylights out of me. I figure I will know when the time is right and maybe my sister and I will open the housewares store we always talk about.

What do you love about your job? What do you hate about it? What do you think makes a job great? Inquiring minds want to know.

*Not his real name

Be Careful What You Wish For

2008-10-05T20:55:00.000-07:00

Remember when I was missing my kids's babyhood? Well it seems I got my wish to relive it. Sort of.

Gloppy and his dad were sliding down a monster size slide together this morning and Gloppy's foot got caught underneath Mr. Mint and bent backwards. After lots of tears and a quick x-ray at the ER, we discovered it's not broken. Phew!

He does have a really bad and apparently painful sprain. Normally they would give the patient crutches, but they don't make crutches for three year olds. So the doctor sent us on our way with orders for me to act as his crutches. Gloppy needs to stay of his leg for 48 hours. Which means I spent the entire day carrying him around. Every time he attempts to stand up or walk he literally crumples to the floor and starts crying.

Today I enjoyed sitting with him on the couch and having him hug me tight. By the end of tomorrow I may be singing a different tune after carrying him up and down the stairs a million times.

A Cradle Song

2008-10-03T23:10:00.000-07:00

The angels are stooping

Above your bed;

They weary of trooping

With the whimpering dead.

God's laughing in Heaven

To see you so good;

The Sailing Seven

are gay with His mood.

I sigh that kiss you,

For I must own

That I shall miss you

When you have grown

-W.B. Yeats

Lately I feel like my kids have been growing up in fast forward. It seems as though the new school year has turned my babies into children. Frostine has lost two teeth and we took the training wheels off her bike. Lolly likes to make her own breakfast and prefers to take a shower and wash her own hair rather than have me do it in the bathtub. They wrote their own thank you notes for gifts they received at their birthday party. They went to their first sleep over party. Gloppy gets himself dressed in the morning and asks for "breakfast" instead of "brepast." When I take him to the park he's more interested in playing with his friends than having me push him on the swing. All three kids learned how to swim this summer. Real swimming, under the water and through my legs swimming.

I sigh that kiss you,

For I must own

That I shall miss you

When you have grown

We walk to school in the mornings and the girls have been begging me to be able to ride their bikes instead. It makes me nervous since there are no sidewalks in our town and the road to school is busy with parents rushing to get their kids to school on time. We bought them brand new helmets and after a few practice runs I agreed to let them ride their bikes with me running along. I held my breath when they raced ahead of me as I hung back with Gloppy. By the time I reached school they already had their bikes parked and were on their way to hang up their backpacks. So different from last year when Lolly would not let go of my hand until the bell rang and her teacher opened the classroom door. Later that morning I dropped Gloppy off at preschool and he barely raised his head from the legos to say good-bye to me. So different from last year when I got a phone call only a half hour after I dropped him off saying he hadn't stopped crying.

I sigh that kiss you,

For I must own

That I shall miss you

When you have grown

I've spent the past six years rushing to get to the next stage. Hurry and get them out of diapers. Hurry and learn to crawl, walk, run, play soccer. Hurry and learn to talk so you can communicate with words instead of tantrums. Hurry and learn to feed yourself, sleep in a big bed, brush your own teeth, buckle your own seatbelt. Hurry and go off to school so I can have some more free time.

I sigh that kiss you,

For I must own

That I shall miss you

When you have grown

The past few weeks of marveling at my kids accomplishments have weighed on me like a ton of bricks. Those early days of bottles and binkies and lullabies seemed to go by so slowly. But the years have gone by so fast. I own it. I already miss the days of bottles and binkies and lullabies that I was in such a hurry to get past. I miss the two little babies I pushed in a double stroller. I miss the little boy I carried all over San Francisco in a Baby Bjorn. I own it. I will miss the six year old little girl who peppers me with endless questions. I will miss the other six year old little girl who just learned to ride a two wheeler. I will miss the little boy who tip toes into my bedroom each morning to wake me up. I own it.

Gloppy the Chocolate Monster is Ready for Some Football

2008-10-02T20:00:00.000-07:00

As you may recall I have a new football picking strategy. Lolly and Frostine made some good picks last week and I came close to winning. But alas, the title went to my friend Mo. Whatever.

I have a feeling this might be our week. Since my girls picked last week, this time it's Gloppy's turn. He may have been coached by his dad.

Without further ado... here are my brilliant son's picks for the week in bold.

Buffalo @ Arizona
Tennessee @ Baltimore
Kansas City @ Carolina
Indianapolis @ Houston
San Diego @ Miami
Chicago @ Detroit
Atlanta @ Green Bay
Seattle @ NY Giants
Washington @ Philadelphia
Tampa Bay @ Denver
Cincinnati @ Dallas
New England @ San Francisco
Pittsburgh @ Jacksonville

Monday Night Football
Minnesota @ New Orleans
Combined Score: 51

Hop on over to Insta-Mom's place to check out the competition. Bring in on beey-otches.

Zzzzzzzzzzz

2008-10-01T22:29:00.000-07:00

Sleep. She's a good sleeper. He's a terrible sleeper. She's a great napper, but not a great night time sleeper. He sleeps through the night, but doesn't take really long naps. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

Sometimes I feel like so much of my life for the past six years has been dictated by my children's sleep. The conversation at every new mom's groups I have ever attended has centered around either sleep or feeding. Mostly sleep.

From the moment I took my babies home from the hospital I have been obsessed with their sleep schedules. Lolly and Frostine were both fussy babies and I was desperate to get them to stop crying and just fall asleep already. I had charts and schedules. If one of them slept for longer than an hour or so, I would analyze what we did that day and try to recreate the same variables that led to the two hour nap. They slept just fine in my arms. I spent countless hours in a big overstuffed chair holding both little infants in my arms, listening to them breath, counting the minutes they stayed asleep so I could enter it into my charts and spreadsheets.

Out of all that craziness I became fiercely protective of their sleep. When they finally did develop a schedule of naps and a bedtime routine, I bent over backwards to make sure we stuck to it. I think of them as sleep sensitive. They took naps up until the day before they started kindergarten a year ago. Frostine will still take naps on the weekend.

When Gloppy was born I was amazed that he would sleep for hours in his little bassinet. He sort of naturally fell into a sleeping schedule. It took him a long time to sleep through the night and that was painful. But I savored those middle of the night feedings. It was the only time I got to just sit and hold him without any interruptions. I tried co-sleeping with him, but that did not work out at all. I have a hard time sleeping with little wiggling bodies in my bed. Anytime my kids try to sleep in our bed they ask to be put back in their own bed because "Daddy is loud." I don't blame them.

All three of my kids are early risers. It's not ideal, especially on weekends, but I've learned to accept it. No matter what time they go to bed, they get up around 6am. Therefore, I put them to bed pretty early. It's not unusual for me to have them all bathed, teeth brushed and ready for bed well before the clocks ticks pasts 7pm. They don't always fall right asleep, but they stay in their beds and they're quiet. It keeps us all sane.

Last week the girls had minimum days all week long and I had to pick them up at 1:15pm. Right smack in the middle of Gloppy's nap time. It drove me crazy. He skipped his nap for a couple of days, napped in the car once or twice and was generally a bit cranky. Then on Friday night Lolly and Frostine had two birthday parties. Two bouncy, run around, sweaty, eat pizza and cake birthday parties. One from 4-6pm and another from 6-8pm. Lolly was a walking zombie by the end of the it all. The next night we had dinner with my in-laws and the kids ended up staying up way past their bedtime. By Sunday afternoon everyone was tired and grouchy and I was frustrated. I snapped and I yelled and I made everyone take a nap.

There are always exceptions to my sleep rules. The girls had a blast at the double birthday parties and we all had a fun evening visiting with my in-laws. But I feel like we paid for it. It leaves me wondering when I won't be checking the clock, worrying about getting everyone to bed on time. When will I be able to make plans without stressing about when Gloppy will be able to take a nap? I'm sure by then, I will have found something new to worry and obsess about.

Least Annoying Family

2008-09-28T13:42:00.001-07:00

I recently had a light-hearted e-mail exchange with a friend of mine who shall not be named about taking vacations with other families. She mentioned that she has a strict rule about not vacationing with families whose children are younger than hers. I must say, that is a rule backed up by sound logic.

I go on vacation with my sister's family twice a year. In the winter we rent a house in the snow and in the summer we rent a lake house together. It works out quite well since I am comfortable getting mad at my husband in front of them, we both put our kids to bed pretty early, my brother-in-law used to be a bartender and makes a mean margarita and our kids are all around the same age and get along famously. The house at the lake we rent each year is massive.

This past summer while we were at the lake, my sister mentioned that we could easily accommodate another family. We started listing all our friends and coming up with reasons that we could never go on vacation with them. We finally settled on my friend V and her family. Here was our reasoning:

1. They only bring one other child into the mix and he's a very well behaved, sweet boy.

2. Gloppy is the only boy cousin and he could use another little boy to play with, and V's son is the right age.

3. V's husband J is hilarious and really fun at parties.

4. J is also a total kid at heart and will keep the kids entertained for hours making up silly games and goofing around. We call him the fifth Wiggle.

5. V is a small woman and she won't eat much.

6. J is a master behind the grill.

7. V is not one to gossip or say mean things behind someone's back, which may cut down on trash talking for me and my sister. But the good thing is she won't go back and tell everyone how crazy my family really is.

So we decided that we might invite V and J and their darling son with us to the lake next year. It's still under discussion, but for now they hold the title of "Least Annoying Family."

Congratulations V & J!! No offense to any of my other friends who might be reading this. I love you all, but maybe not enough to go on vacation with you. Sorry.

BFL: New Strategy

2008-09-26T13:58:00.000-07:00

Surprise, surprise... I did not win last week's BFL. I didn't even really come close. AmyInOhio barely squeaked out a win (can you say "rigged"). Since Mr. Mint is currently traveling and can't help me make some better choices this week, I've opted for a different strategy.

I'm going to ask my kids. Since Gloppy is taking a nap, Lolly and Frostine will make my picks this week. Watch out BFL'ers, don't they look fierce?

I can smell your fear. So here are Lolly and Frostine's picks for the week (in bold). Be sure to check out the competition over at Insta-Mom's place.

Atlanta @ Carolina
Cleveland @ Cincinnati
Houston @ Jacksonville
Denver @ Kansas City
San Francisco @ New Orleans
Arizona @ NY Jets
Green Bay @ Tampa Bay
Minnesota @ Tennessee
San Diego @ Oakland
Buffalo @ St Louis
Washington @ Dallas
Philadelphia @ Chicago

Monday Night Football
Baltimore @ Pittsburgh
Combined Final Score: 52

Wish us luck!!!

Four Questions

2008-09-24T23:01:00.000-07:00

The other day as I was getting the kids ready for school my phone rang. It was early for a phone call, but not entirely unusual since Mr. Mint sometimes calls from work in the mornings. We were running a little behind and I was trying to get the girls dressed. I vaguely recognized the name on the caller ID, so I answered it.

Caller: "Hi Kristine, this is Sally*, Chuck's mom from school."

My name is Kirsten (rhymes with Beersten), not Kristine, but this is a common mistake. I often get called Kristen, Kristine, Kristy, whatever. So it didn't seem odd. After a moment I remembered who she was. Her son Chuck is in Frostine's class and she's mentioned him. I met Sally briefly at back to school night.

Me: "Oh, hi Sally. How are you?"

My kids are running around. Lolly has picked out another hopelessly mismatched outfit without my guidance and Gloppy is reaching for my cup of piping hot Indian black tea.

Caller: "I just want to confirm that I will pick up the kids at school today and you can come and get them whenever you are finished."

Now Frostine has put way too much toothpaste on her toothbrush and Gloppy just pulled Lolly's hair. I am a little confused, since I don't think we had a play date set up. But when another mom calls and offers to pick your kids up from school, the answer is always "yes!!" right?

Me: "Oh, OK."

Caller: "I didn't know if you had my cell phone number, so I thought I'd give you a call this morning."

Now it dawns on me that she meant to call an actual Kristine, who is another mom from Frostine's class and I think they live on the same block as Sally. I've seen Kristine and Sally talking. So do I correct her and let her know she picked the wrong name off the class list? No.

Me: "Great, thanks for calling. See you at school!"

I was anxious to get back to overseeing the kids and we needed to get out the door. I don't know what I was thinking. Who does that?? I haven't run into either Sally or Kristine at school yet. Hopefully enough time will pass and no one will speak of the "incident with the phone call" again.

My question: Should I just forget about it or mention it to Sally or Kristine?

The other day I was driving on the freeway and I saw this car all decorated with "Just Married" signs and "Congratulations Sue and Bob." Of course I took a photo because, duh, I have a blog. Here's what it said on the back window.

It says, "No More Condoms"

My question: Tacky or funny? (I'm leaning toward tacky)

My BIF (best internet friend), Tracey sent me an e-mail in response to my last post. Here's part of what she said:

"We all go through blogged arteries once in a while where you feel like the blog writes the life instead of the other way around, but then you have a typical crazy week of life and kid stuff, and the world rights itself once again."

That was too good for me not to post here.

My question: Tracey's brilliant right?

I've lost 7 pound the last two weeks without doing anything differently. In fact, since I was sick, I may have actually been lazier than usual.

My question: Yay me! or Whatever B****?

By the way, I'm thinking of starting a new blog. It's called DeathToMarinka. Check it out, it's gonna be great!!

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Except for my name and Kristine's... because then the story wouldn't be as funny.

Blog Angst

2008-09-20T21:10:00.000-07:00

Remember when I said I was going to put up three post in one day? Yeah, well I lied. I couldn't get this one finished. But two posts in one day isn't too bad. I had to close the computer and take my feverish, coughing self to bed. So at any rate, here is my long awaited Blog Angst post. Because I know you were wondering what happened. BTW, my friend count is up to 21 on Facebook. Yay me!! Want to be my friend? Send me an e-mail: mamagingertree@gmail.com

I have been blogging for about eight months now. Before I started my own blog, I read blogs for over a year. Never once in that approximately 18 months did I ever leave a comment. I just read and learned and enjoyed. Even as I get deeper into the blogosphere I am still amazed at how much quality content is out there.

Lately my blog has been causing me some angst. Not major angst, but enough to prompt me writing about it. I have written this post several times in my head for the past two weeks, so I need to just get it out.

Angst #1: The fact that I have a blog

When we were on vacation with my sister's family a few weeks ago, my sister and I were reading blogs one evening and talking about people/posts we liked. My brother-in-law made some comment about blogs being a waste of time and why do we care about someone else's life anyway. I am sure I don't need to explain why I wholeheartedly disagree with him to whoever might be reading this. I read something recently by a blogger that said people who think blogs are silly just don't get it. I wish I could remember who said it and where I read it to give them proper credit, but alas, I can't. My brother-in-law is entitled to his opinion and not to waste his time on blogs. That's fine with me. But don't tell me it's stupid. I love blogging and it's been good to me.

You know how great it can be to meet another mom at the park hoping to have a good venting session while you sip lattes? Well we all know that is a pretty rare occurrence for most moms. You are more likely to spend your time chasing your kids in different directions, doling out snacks, having fragmented, never finished conversation with your mom friends while your latte gets cold.

What I love about blogging is that I can come home from the park or school or where ever, open my computer and I am bound to find someone out there that I can relate to and has written something insightful about whatever is bugging me that day. And I feel less alone. Mock internet friends if you must... my husband calls them my "imaginary friends." But I have connected with some genuinely lovely people through my blog like Maura, Andrea, Insta-Mom, Kate, Carrie, Susie, EatPlayLove and Tracey (if you are not reading Tracey, you should be because she is delightful and a fantastically great writer) just to name a few. Especially Maura, I think she might be the most genuinely lovely of them all. I love getting a little peek into someone's life through their blog and I usually learn something from them.

I've been reluctant to let even my close (real life) friends know I have a blog, but I am growing increasingly confident about it. I am proud of some of the things I've written. If some think it's geeky, than I am a proud geek.

Angst #2: Writing in general

It took me a long time to get the courage to start a blog because I have never been a very confident writer. I don't think my writing is very good. I know we are all our own harshest critics, and I finally decided it didn't really matter if I was a stellar writer. What mattered is that I felt like I had something to share and no one was going to read it besides my husband anyway. My husband who told me the other day he thinks I am "a good writer, not great and I could probably use an editor." Whatever. I am not much of a proof reader. Once I write something I usually just check for typos and hit publish. I'm not even very good at finding all the typos! Even though I am OK with being a less than stellar writer, I still enjoy reading people who are stellar writers like AnyMommy, Black Hockey Jesus or Mom-101, just to name a few (and there are SO MANY more). And I still enjoy writing, very much.

So what's the problem? Well here is how my day typically goes blog-wise. I wake up and write an amazing post in my head while I'm in the shower or while I'm fixing breakfast for my kids. Then the entire day gets away from me and I get distracted by the dishes, the wardrobe battles, the classroom volunteering, tennis class, ballet class, soccer practice, a trip to Target, etc. etc. etc. Once I do sit down to write, I am distracted by the kids or I can see the pile of laundry that needs to be folded or the pile of matchbox cars that needs to be put away. I've tried writing in a coffee shop, but then I am distracted by the noise and the ice tea and the pastries.

Once I do find some quiet time to write I start off by reading other people's blogs. That is where I get into trouble. Besides the fact that it takes me a long time to read everyone's latest posts, I tend to lose my fire. I read someone's amazing post and the one I wrote in my head just doesn't sound as funny or heart-warming as it did before. So maybe you could all write something really crappy next week to make me feel better about myself. No? Well it was worth a try.

Blog Angst #3: Humor

I like to think I have a fairly decent sense of humor. I adore funny people and funny writing. Mr. Mint can end any argument we have just by making me laugh. One little humorous comment from him and all my anger melts away (most of the time). This runs along the same lines as angst #2. I think I have something funny to say and then I read something like this. Marinka is freaking hilarious and even though she makes me feel decidedly unfunny, I look forward to reading her. To make matters worse, she also writes stuff like this that feel like a punch to the gut. Then there's Meg and Amy who I have actually met briefly in real life. If you are not following either of them on Twitter you are missing out. They crack me up. And have I mentioned Tracey? She is delightfully funny. Don't even get me started on Stefanie, she is my favorite kind of funny. So I will probably just keep trying to pretend that I am funny. Was that funny to anyone but me?

Blog Angst #4: Comments

I actually don't have any comment angst, but it seems like everyone who writes one of these blog angst posts writes about comments and I didn't want to break protocol. I don't get many comments here and that is fine with me. I like to visit the people who comment on my blog and it's not that hard for me to keep up with the 3-9 people who leave a comment on each post. I greatly appreciate every comment that I get. I mean where else but here can I get such meaningful and heartfelt comments on something like this? I never properly thanked the amazing PsychMamma for her comment on that post. I adore PsychMamma. When I read her 100 Things post I felt like I could have written it.

So I don't really have comment angst. Except maybe when I read a very popular bloggers post and they already have 30+ comments. I tend not to leave a comment unless I feel like I really have something of value to add to the discussion. Seems to me most people with comment angst have a hard time keeping up with everyone who comments on their blog. Not a problem for me. I also don't take offense if someone I comment on regularly or even occasionally, does not comment on my blog. It doesn't stop me from reading them.

Blog Angst #5: My blog theme

I thought long and hard about what to call my blog and what to name my family. The Candy Land thing sounded great in my head in the shower one morning. I was so happy to finally have an idea and get started that I just ran with it. I do love candy and playing Candy Land and I absolutely use candy to bribe my kids into doing all sorts of things. However, after eight months, I am kind of over it. I love, LOVE my blog design but I am not really this cutesy in real life.

I am thinking about changing my whole blog persona. I hesitate to change things since I have carved out a little space for myself as Mama Ginger Tree. My idea was to change the name of my blog to The Norwindians since I'm Norwegian and my husband is East Indian, and our kids are Norwindian (get it?). But Mama Ginger Tree doesn't really fit into that scenario. I don't mind using my real first name, which is Kirsten, but trust me, Kirsten would only confuse things further since people have been misspelling my name my whole life.

So I will most likely switch at some point when I finally get tired of the Candy Cane Forest or when my kids get tired of playing Candy Land. When that will be, I am not sure. I am torn between just leaving things as they are, changing over now before I get any deeper into blogging or waiting until I get a fancy blog design for The Norwindians. Argh. The decision is driving me nuts.

Blog Angst #6: Mr. Mint

I cant' stand it when my husband reads what I am writing over my shoulder before I am finished. I don't know why, but it drives me insane.

When I read all this over, it sounds like my major source of angst is reading other people's fantastic blogs and feeling inadequate. I'll deal. I am not going to stop reading and I am not going to stop blogging. I am actually happy with my little corner of the blogosphere. I hope my kids will get something out of all this writing someday. I know if my dad had anything like I a blog, it would be absolutely priceless to me today, no matter what it said. It would be a piece of him, his history.

As much as it pains me, I am not going to allow comments on this post. I am not fishing for validation. I just needed to get this all out of my brain, through my fingertips and onto my keyboard.

Football Time!

2008-09-19T10:10:00.000-07:00

It's football time. In case you haven't heard of the BFL, hop on over here and check it out. I am not usually much of a sports fan, but I am an Insta-Mom fan and an AmyInOhio fan for sure. So when they put out the call for BFL gamers, I was all over it. Besides, Mr. Mint loves sports so maybe it will be good for my marriage if I actually take an interest the games. Time will tell.

I used to be a big football fan, back when the Niner's were good. *ahem* Some of my picks will be educated, but most will be random. Maybe I'll get lucky.

Anyway, I've bolded my picks for this week:

Arizona @ Washington

Carolina @ Minnesota
Houston @ Tennessee
Miami @ New England
Oakland @ Buffalo
Cincinatti @ NY Giants
Kansas City @ Atlanta
Tampa Bay @ Chicago
St. Louis @ Seattle
Detroit @ San Francisco
New Orleans @ Denver
Pittsburgh @ Philadelphia
Cleveland @ Baltimore
Jacksonville @ Indianapolis
Dallas @ Green Bay

Monday Night Game:
NY Jets @ San Diego
Combined final score: 50

So there you have it. Now hop on over to Insta-Mom and check out who else is playing along.

Fair Warning

2008-09-19T08:57:00.000-07:00

OK, I just need to warn you. I am going to put up three posts today. I know, crazy right!? This first one is just some completely random thoughts. The next one will be my picks for the BFL. The final post will be about my recent blog angst. So you've been warned.

Random thought #1:

I am sick as a dog. (Where did that phrase come from? Do dogs even get sick?) Anyway, I am not sure which one of my three kids brought home this illness but it sucks. Yesterday afternoon I felt so terrible I put some TV on for my kids and went upstairs to take a nap. I have never done this before. I told them not to answer the door or the phone and to come get me if anything caught on fire. After about 10 minutes, Lolly came upstairs with a jar of spaghetti sauce and asked me if it was salsa. I said no, and described what the salsa jar looked like. I knew in my head that this did not bode well for my couches or living room rug, but I didn't care. Thank heavens Mr. Mint came home a little early or I don't think my kids would have got dinner. Or else I would have just handed them some dried pasta and a jar of spaghetti sauce.

This morning I could barely get the girls ready for school. After I fixed their breakfast they got out some kind of craft and proceeded to spill glitter all over the couch and spread beads and tiny pieces of string all over the floor. Again, I didn't care. When it was time to leave for school I asked them to clean up and get dressed. In my head I was screaming, "it's not f***ing craft time, it's time to get ready for school!!!!!" I may have said this out loud. I'm not really sure.

At any rate, Gloppy is at my in-law's, the girls made it to school and I am alone until 2:45pm. But here I am typing away when all I want to do is take some NyQuil and go curl up in my bed. See how much I love you dear readers?

Random thought #2

Sleepovers. Lolly and Frostine who just turned six have their very first sleep over party tonight. I am not sure how I feel about this. Part of me thinks they are way too young and the other part of me thinks, "hooray! Mr. Mint and I get the night off since Gloppy can stay at my in-law's!! Bring on the booze!!" Too bad I fear I won't be able to get my @ss off the couch in order to enjoy our night alone.

The girls are super excited about the sleepover and I think it will go just fine. It's not like they have never spent the night away from us. They have spent several nights at my in-law's and my sister's house. My beloved sister-in-law even took them to Disneyland without us when they were only 4 years old and it turned out great.

Besides, we know the family very well and they don't live too far from us. I think I am just writing all this trying to convince myself that they are old enough for a sleepover party. Now I just need to go buy them some new sleeping bags since theirs have Disney princesses on them and they informed me this morning that it's not cool to have a princess sleeping bag in first grade. Who am I to argue?

Random thought #3

Facebook. I have resisted joining Facebook for a while now. I enjoy making fun of my husband and his 100+ "friends" they way he enjoys making fun of my blog and my "imaginary friends." But then I got a message from a friend from college and I couldn't say no to her. So I joined Facebook. It's a little strange and I only have 8 friends so far. That's all I have to say about that right now. I'll keep you updated on my friend count.

Random thought #4

Link! My friend Marinka linked me in her post yesterday. I have never met Marinka in real like, but her blog is one of my favorites. I hope she doesn't mind that I called her my friend even though we've never met. Maybe I should call her my friendrinka.

Anyway, if you don't already read her, you should because she is wickedly funny and every time she leaves a comment here I have to make sure I am not drinking anything that would hurt if it came streaming out of my nose. I love Marinka my friendrinka. Go read her lastest post and leave her a question.

That's all I got for now. I am going to make some tea and do my BFL picks now. Wish me luck.

p.s. I am not going to proofread this, so please accept my apology for the many typos I am sure you will find.

Wardrobe Mom Malfunction

2008-09-18T07:30:00.000-07:00

Want to feel better about your parenting skills? Come on over to Silicon Valley Moms Blog and read about my latest screw up.

Ew

2008-09-17T13:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday someone came across my blog by googling "feel me up pediatrician." Um gross. They hung around for a couple of page views!

Today someone came here by googling "woman eating candy cane held between her breasts." Hi pervert in Nashville, TN.

I'm sorry to disappoint, but there will never, ever be any photos of a woman eating a candy cane held between her breasts or a "feel me up pediatrician" (whatever that is) on my blog. Please take your perversions somewhere else. There are children present here and ladies with very delicate ears (I'm looking at you AnyMommy).

First Days and Birthdays

2008-09-10T21:57:00.000-07:00

I thought that with all the exposing of family secrets and soul searching, we could use a little levity here in the Candy Cane Forest. So I will now post numerous photos of my impossibly adorable children and update you on what else has been going on in our lives.

A couple of weeks ago Lolly and Frostine started first grade. The transition from kindergartners to first graders has been pretty seamless. They love their teachers and ~~I am loving~~ they are getting used to the longer days. Here they are on the first day of school.

Oh wait... that's just what I see when I look at them. Here is what my first graders actually looked like on the first day.

The day after school started, they went and turned six years old. I still can't get my head around the fact that I gave birth to twin girls six years ago. They had a party at a local bakery with some of their friends and each girl went home with a mini cake that they decorated themselves. I'm sure lots of parents were cursing me for sending their kids home full of sugar, but it was a blast and the girls loved it.

As if that wasn't enough excitement, Gloppy started preschool on Monday. My charming little side kick is no longer a baby, or even a toddler. He's a little boy.

Gloppy has had no problem at all getting used to big boy school. It's me that can't quite get used to it. I got a little choked up walking him into school the first day as my mind wandered to a day when I walked my little girls into their first day of preschool with Gloppy strapped to my chest in a Baby Bjorn. As I watch him playing with all the kids, he seems so little to me and I have stop myself from running to scoop him up and take him home to play trains.

But I get over it when I pull into my driveway and walk into my quiet house three mornings a week. Summer was everything it should be... lazy, sunny, fun-filled and packed with family togetherness. But it's kind of nice to be back to our school year routines.

Blog Regret

2008-09-09T13:44:00.000-07:00

I am feeling remorseful about this post. It sort of feels like I've been talking about my mom behind her back. I honestly started the post as way to make fun of myself for having a toothbrush collecting problem, but clearly it morphed into something completely different. I don't want my mother to be defined here by the fact that she is compulsive hoarder.

She is also an amazing grandmother and a woman who has led a rich life. It can't have been easy to be an Air Force nurse in the early sixties, but she talks fondly of her time in the military and I know she had some amazing experiences. She was not a woman who went from her father's house straight to her husband's. She had a career and a whole life of her own before meeting my father, getting married and starting a family. She had her own apartment in North Beach in San Francisco. She hung out with poets and volunteered at Planned Parenthood.

My mother rarely talks about her life before kids or why she packed up and left Minnesota after she graduated from nursing school. I know there is so much more to her than I know about. I want to know more of that woman and I want my daughters and my son to know more about that woman. Why she is reluctant to talk about it is a mystery to me.

One of reasons I started this blog is to have a written record of my thoughts for my children to read someday. I don't want there to be any unknowns for them about who I am or how I feel about being their mother. I also want them to know that there is more to me than motherhood. I want them to feel comfortable talking to me about anything, even when they are adults. To have that kind of relationship with anyone, there can't be any secrets or holding back.

Mr. Mint and I lived with my mom toward the end of my pregnancy with Lolly and Frostine and for the first four months after they were born while our house was being remodeled. They were both colicky and I had a really hard time those first few months. I was on the edge of totally losing it. My mom once remarked, "I don't remember you guys crying this much as babies." That is not what I needed to hear. The comment made me feel like a failure since I could not get my babies to stop crying. It was the beginning of a chasm between us that sadly has grown over the years as my screaming babies have grown into little girls.

I will probably be writing a lot about my mother in the coming weeks, months, hopefully years. She turned 74 this year and while she still looks like she's in her sixties, she is diabetic and had a triple bypass a few years ago. Her memory and sharp wit has been declining and lately seems to be getting much, much worse. I fear we are headed to a place my sister and I have dreaded for a long time.

She drives me bananas sometimes and it helps for me to write about it and work through some of our issues here. I just need to state that aside from our differences and inability to "get" each other lately, I have great respect for my mom. She adores her grandchildren and I am so glad my issues with my mom have not filtered down to my kids. They love her to pieces.

There is so much more to say and so much more blog material here. But for now I just needed to let you all know that just as there is more to me than motherhood, there is more to my mom than compulsive hoarding.

Girl Time

2008-09-07T20:59:00.000-07:00

Something I've been working on is trying to spend one-on-one time with each of my kids. Gloppy is not a problem. Since Lolly and Frostine are in school all day, Gloppy and I get lots of time alone together. So for him, I am doing more things that put the focus on him. We play trains more often or go to his favorite park rather than watch The Backyardigans while I read blogs or tackle the trifecta of motherhood* together.

It's harder to carve out time for Lolly and Frostine. Every once in a while, one of them will have a play date that the other wasn't invited to and I get a couple of hours with one or the other. But it really isn't truly one-on-one time since we can't really shake Gloppy. But on the rare occasion that I am alone with one of the girls, it is truly heavenly. We have great conversations and I know they feel special and love having me all to themselves.

I haven't quite figured out a solution to this problem yet. We have a lot going on on weekends, soccer, swim lessons, b-day parties and some weddings coming up. I also hate to cut into any time that the kids get to spend with Mr. Mint on the weekends, because he doesn't see much of them during the week. I might try to make a "date" with each kid for a special breakfast or dinner out.

Do any of you struggle with this? Do you have something special that you do with each of your children?

Today while Gloppy was napping and Mr. Mint was glued to the sofa watching some sporting even or the other, I decided to take the girls with me to get pedicures. The nail salon I like to frequent has a "princess pedicure." They get to wear a crown, sip apple juice and soak their feet just like a real pedicure.

Frostine sporting her complimentary princess crown

Lolly passes the time waiting for her nails to dry

It was like getting a pedicure with my best girlfriends. We gave each other advice about which color to choose, we flipped through a magazine together (Highlights) and giggled about stinky boys. Lolly and Frostine loved it and couldn't wipe the smiles off their faces the whole time we were at the salon. So even though it wasn't alone time, it was girl time at it's best.

the finished product

When we came home we joined Gloppy and Mr. Mint on the slip 'n slide to round out what turned out to be a lovely family day.

You can read about the other grown-up things I've been sharing with my kids today on Silicon Valley Moms Blog. Check it out.

*Trifecta of Motherhood = Starbucks, Trader Joe's and Target. I could also add Safeway or Whole Foods, but then it would be a fourfecta, or a fivefecta and that just doesn't sound as good.

At Least My Kids Will Have Clean Teeth

2008-09-05T16:07:00.000-07:00

I haven't written very much here about my mother. We have complicated relationship, filled with mixed emotions. I love her and respect her more than you can imagine, but for some reason we have been unable to form a healthy adult relationship. It's gotten worse since I became a mother. How painful it is to type that sentence.

My mother has not had an easy life. Her father was an alcoholic and abusive to her mother. She was very close to her mom, who passed away shortly after my mom started college. She rarely speaks about it, but I think she was devastated. After graduating from nursing school in Minnesota, she packed up all her belongings and moved out to San Francisco with some school friends leaving her family and the only life she'd known behind. She joined the Air Force as a flight nurse and travelled the world. That's where she met my father and decided to get married at the age of 32. I think waiting until after you turned 30 to get married was rare in the early sixties.

After nearly eleven years of marriage and two children she found out my father had an affair and my parents divorced. My memory is pretty fuzzy, but I don't think the divorce was even final when my father was diagnosed with cancer. He died nine months later. Within that same year, my mother's best friend committed suicide. So there she was a stay at home mom turned widow, but not technically a widow, with two young girls to raise. As you can imagine, she was emotionally a wreck.

But the eight year old me had no idea how hard things were for her. She did everything she could to put on a brave a face for my sister and I and make our lives as normal as possible. My family is a family of secrets. They come from a place of "don't talk about the bad stuff, put a smile on your face and move forward." So I don't think my mother ever really dealt with the crap she was handed. She went about the business of earning a living and raising her daughters. She never dated again after my father's death

I am not a psychologist by any means, but I think that all of those things above have contributed to the fact that she is a compulsive hoarder. You know, where she can't throw anything away and there are small paths throughout the house to get to the toilet, the bed, the shower, etc.

this used to be my sister's childhood bedroom

It started with the refrigerator of all things. I remember being in junior high and embarrassed to open the fridge if I had friends over. There is barely room in there to fit a can of soda and she lives by herself. She has more stuff crammed in there than I have in my fridge to feed my family of five. From the fridge, it moved on to the garage. There is a large storage area above the garage that is filled with all my toys and furniture from childhood. Once that was full, the stairs to the storage area started to fill up. You can't even make it up the stairs any longer. She hasn't been able to park her car in her two car garage for years.

mom's master bedroom

She saves magazines, wrapping paper, random purchases from TJ Maxx. One of the cupboards in her kitchen is full of dog biscuits, leashes and dog dishes. Our dog died 15 years ago and she has no plans to get another one. There's no where to sit and eat a meal because her dining table is covered with stacks and stacks of papers. Her bathroom is filled with bags of random shampoo and conditioner bottles with just a few drops left in them.

I could go on and on, but you get the idea. My sister and I estimate it will takes us weeks if not months to clean out her house when the time comes. She only lives about 10 minutes from me, but I rarely let my kids go over there because it's just too dangerous. She knows she has a problem, but it would be incredibly difficult for her to let go of her piles. I know she'd be mortified if she knew I put pictures of her house on the internet, but she doesn't read my blog. She doesn't even own a computer. More people know about her compulsion than she will admit to herself. She hasn't had any of her close friends over in years, they must know. My sister and I have tried to intervene to no avail. It's like an addiction.

Maybe as a result of the state of my mom's house, I tend to lean in the other direction. I throw everything away. It makes me feel good to clean things out and get rid of them. I don't like clutter and it's easier for me to relax when my house is clean and organized.

I do have one little problem though. Toothbrushes. I have a strange urge to buy my kids new toothbrushes every time I'm at the drug store. I am powerless to resist the latest toothbrush innovations, characters my kids love, toothbrushes that play music or toothbrushes with little suction cups that stick to the wall. That is all well and good, but then I can't throw the old ones away. Then they get new toothbrushes every six months at the dentist's office. Therefore we have a toothbrush collection that looks like this:

Is there such a thing as compulsive toothbrush hoarding? PsychMamma? Anyone?

In all seriousness, I know that compulsive hoarding is no laughing matter. My sister and I discuss it often and it breaks our hearts to know that we will probably never have a meal at her house again and our kids will have no memories of playing at Grammy's house. Not to mention the fact that her house is clearly a dangerous fire hazard. We are at a loss. Her compulsion/addiction not only hurts her, it hurts her family and friends and it has damaged my relationship with her.

I've merely scratched the surface of my multi-faceted relationship with my mom in this post. I'm sure I'll revisit the subject.

Mama Ginger Tree's Readers Interview Mama Ginger Tree

2008-09-01T20:26:00.000-07:00

Thank you to everyone to responding to my call for interview questions. I shall now attempt to answer your questions...

Heart at Preschool (otherwise known as my sister) wants to know: If you spent one entire day with each of your kids separately, what would you do with each one?

Gloppy has a way of turning every outing into an adventure, even a trip to Target. But that's boring. So I would start the day out at the park and bring his bike along. I don't take him to the park as often as I did with the girls partly because there is never time and partly because I am kind of over it. But Gloppy adores going to the park. Then we'd head over to California Pizza Kitchen for some lunch. After lunch we'd go home and take a nap together on my bed. In the afternoon I'd take him to the zoo and pick up Indian food on the way home for dinner since it's his favorite.

With Lolly we'd start the day out at Jamba Juice for breakfast. Then I'd take her to the Discovery Museum. She loves it there and there is a lot to do for a six year old. After a picnic lunch we'd head home. We'd then spend some time reading together on the couch and having a snack. She asks me for snacks every hour on the hour. After our quiet time I'd take her for a bike ride at Sawyer Camp Trail. We'd stop half way for a snack. On the way home we'd pick up Indian food for dinner since it's her favorite. After a quick bath we'd make some popcorn and watch a movie before bed.

Frostine and I would sleep in a little bit. After breakfast we'd pack a lunch and head to the beach. After building sand castles and running around in the waves we'd eat our lunch and head home. For some quite time we'd sit and do some puzzles together or flip through her Highlights magazine and do the Hidden Pictures together. In the afternoon we'd kick the soccer ball around together in the backyard and take a break for ice tea and cookies. She'd help me make bbq chicken and baked potatoes for dinner. After a quick bath we'd make some popcorn and watch a movie before bed.

On the fourth day I would be too tired to get out of bed.

Kate asks: If you could go back to high school and do something differently - what would you change? (and this is pretty open - could be a general attitude or a very specific incident - up to you)

Good question. I was pretty happy in high school. I'd like to tell the high school Mama Ginger Tree not to spend so much time worrying about boys and more time studying. But the one thing I would change would be to get involved in more sports. I played soccer for a couple of years, but looking back I wish I would have stuck with it and maybe played tennis as well.

Melissa (whose blog I just discovered and I'm so glad because she is fantastic) wonders: Since I have a mixed marriage as well, here's an interesting question for you: What "box" do you check for your children? As in the ethnicity box. And why.

I am Caucasian (Norwegian) and Mr. Mint is East Indian. I always pause over the "ethnicity box" on forms for my kids. I wonder in this day and age how many people check "other" or "decline to state." I have thought about checking "Asian" since technically India is in Asia, but then what about their "caucasian-ness?" I usually check "other" and write underneath "half Caucasian half Indian." My kids identify more with being Indian than they do with being Norwegian. I think they sometimes feel sorry for me being the only non-Indian in our house. I wish there was a box for "Norwindian." Then this would not be an issue.

Do you think I used too many quotation marks in that answer?

Maura wants to know: Since you put it out there, I am curious about how you handle the differences in culture between your background and your husband's. From what I've heard in stories from various co-workers who share his family's background (in general, of course, since I don't know his specifically), it can be very difficult to not fall in line with cultural expectations.

Also, the female version of boxers or briefs: bikini, briefs or thong?

Excellent question. It's one I get asked all the time when people find out my husband is Indian. It has not always been an easy road for us. Let's just say Mr. Mint's family was not too happy about his choice in a wife when they first met me. We had been dating for 3 years and were living together before he even told his parents that he had a girlfriend. Once they got to know me things began to get easier. There are still some members of his extended family that treat me like an outcast, but 95% of them are welcoming and treat me like part of the family.

I know it bothers his parents that our kids don't speak Gujarati and that I am not able to teach them their religion or traditions. But I am completely open to his parents taking them to temple and teaching them about their traditions. My kids LOVE being Indian and learning about the Gods and the holidays and all the rituals. Before we had kids we decided that we would expose them to both my religion (I'm Lutheran) and my husbands and let them decide what if any religion they want to be a part of.

My husband's aunts and cousins have taught me so much about their culture and how to cook Indian food. It is definitely the women who pass on the traditions and uphold their values. I sometimes say the wrong thing or once I ate some grapes that my mother-in-law and her sister had prepared specially as an offering to the Gods. Oops!

So after a rough start, we seem to have found a way to make it all work.

And bikini briefs! I've never been able to wear a thong. It feels like wearing no underwear at all. :-)

Stella Blue poses the question: I'm curious about your thoughts on the upcoming election - you don't need to reveal your party affiliation (if any) unless you want to. Just general thoughts on having a woman and a mixed-race man on the major tickets.

I love this question. I am not usually one to get very political, but this election has me fired up in a way I haven't been since college. I am thrilled that we are at a point in our nation where we could have a mixed-race man for president. I adore Michelle Obama for many reasons, but this post sums it up better than I could. I think the Obama's are a family that my kids could actually relate to.

While I am excited that McCain picked a woman, I am not so excited about Sarah Palin herself. Years ago, I liked McCain and thought he seemed like an intelligent, fair-minded leader. But Sarah Palin being one person away from the presidency is a little scary. This post really states the reasons why for me.

It's an exciting time in our history and I hope my kids can grasp that one day.

Anymommy wants to know: Favorite book you've ever read? Favorite movie? Favorite place you've visited?

I have so many favorite books! Every time I start to type a title, another one pops into my head. I will choose three. I absolutely loved The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger. It was picked by my book club and I thought I wouldn't like it, but I did not want it to end. Loved it! Another is The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck. My book club did a year of classics and this was one that I never read in school. It sounds terribly boring, but trust me, if you have never read it you are missing out on a fantastic story. And I have to mention Extremely Lound and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer. It's about a boy whose father dies on September 11th. Not exactly a happy book, but it captures so well what it feels like to lose a parent. That book really spoke to me. Lastly, The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri. I love reading books by Indian authors, but this one in particular gave me great appreciation for how my husband must feel as a first generation American being raised in the US by Indian parents. Don't see the movie, read the book. Oops, I guess that was four. I could go on and on with books, but I'll leave it at that.

Before I had kids I used to go through 3 or 4 Netflix movies a week. Now I am lucky if I see one or two a month. One of my all time favorite movies is Strictly Ballroom. Not a well known movie, but worth renting. I also loved Monsoon Wedding because it reminded me so much of my husband's family. More recently (sort of) I liked The Departed.

My favorite place I have visited would be Brugge in Belgium. My husband and I spent two of our most romantic days there when we were newly married. It is a charming little town. It's like stepping into a snapshot of European history. The cobble stone streets, the architecture, the museums, the shops... all of it was amazing. We ate in some of the most cozy, delicious restaurants I have ever been to. If you ever get a chance, it is a city worth visiting.

PhychMamma has several questions:

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? I would like to live in London. It's a city that my husband was born in and he still has lots of family there. It is also a place that is easily accessible to the rest of Europe for exploring. I'd like to spend a year or so there. Then I'd like to spend a year in my husband's home town in Gujarat, India. It would be great for my kids to learn their father's native tongue and for all of us to experience India together. Then I would come home to the SF Bay Area. :-)

What's one thing you wish you would have done differently in your life? I wish I would have majored in English or History in college. I have a business degree and I could have done any of the previous jobs without it. I got mediocre grades in all my business classes, but pulled A's and B's in my literature and history classes.

What's your biggest fear? Home invasion or something terrible happening to one of my kids.

What's the hardest thing about being a mom? Good question! Right now it's finding time to spend one on one time with each of my kids. It's also hard for me to remember that I don't have to feel guilty about spending Saturday morning getting a pedicure.

What's the best thing about being a mom?

Need I say more? Watching your kids discover the world gives you a whole new perspective on life.

Name one person that you greatly admire and tell us why. That is a tough question. I admire people who can cook. I admire people who have superior writing skills. I admire people who teach. It's hard to think of one person. I think I might revisit this question with it's own post.

There you have it. Thanks again to everyone that asked a question.

My Own Interview Experiment

2008-08-28T19:47:00.000-07:00

You may remember that about a month ago I participated in Neil Kramer's Great Interview Experiment. Like I've stated before, it's a concept I believe in wholeheartedly. Everyone is someone and everyone has a story to tell. I often look at people and wonder "what's their story?" Like the checkout guy at my favorite grocery store who always makes conversation with my kids tells me every single time to enjoy them while they're young. Or the Ecuadorian nanny I see at my daughters school who always has her head buried in a classic American novel until the bell rings and she collects her charges. Even my in-laws have stories I have yet to discover, like what it was like to live in Uganda and be driven out by Idi Amin. Did they fear for their lives? Would they like to go back? You can never tell by looking at someone what path their life has taken and what you might be able to learn from them.

I interviewed Katie from Overflowing Brain. An interesting woman with an interesting story to tell. I never heard from the person who was assigned to interview me. That's OK. Maybe she pulled up my blog and thought, "oh great, another mommy blogger with a cutesy header. About Candy Land no less." I get it. I write about my kids and my motherhood experience quite a bit. To someone that doesn't have kids, I imagine they wouldn't find my blog very interesting. Maybe I am not that interesting to those of you that do have kids.

But I am more than a cutesy mommy blogger who doles out candy to her impossibly adorable kids and complains about her husband. I have stories and opinions. So I am going to interview myself, or rather YOU are going to interview me. Leave me a question in the comments and I'll do another post answering your questions.

Maybe you want to know more about my mixed race marriage and how I feel about raising mixed race kids. I have strong opinions on bottled water versus tap water, want to hear them? Or perhaps you want to know about how I had been dating my husband for 4 years and was living with him before he even told his parents he had a girlfriend. I was raised by a single mom who supported us on a nurse's salary in an affluent neighborhood -- there are lots of stories there. What was I doing on September 11, 2001? What is it about Bobby Flay that I find so incredibly sexy? Need more inspiration? Read my Greatest Hits over there on the right or my 100 Things.

Leave a question anonymously if you must. Ask whatever you want to know. Don't be shy.

Or maybe I'm just not that interesting. I'm OK with that too. I still find all of you incredibly interesting.

Go Have a Look

2008-08-28T07:33:00.000-07:00

My first post is up at Silicon Valley Moms Blog. Go check it out!

The One Where I Reveal My Name... and Some Exciting News

2008-08-26T10:19:00.000-07:00

One of the very first blogs I ever read on a regular basis is the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.

To use their words SV Moms Blog is:

"A byte of Silicon Valley life....... Welcome to Silicon Valley, where 40+ moms write about being CEOs at work and CFOs at home, where houses are expensive, kids love sushi and have web businesses, and moms are too busy chauffeuring kids to raise a sword in the mommywars."

I am thrilled that they have asked me to join the ranks of their many fantastic writers. I will be posting there as (drum roll please)... Kirsten. Kirsten is my real name. So now you know. I will continue to be Mama Ginger Tree over here in the Candy Cane Forest.

So hop of over to SV Moms Blog and check them out as well as their sister sites. You can see my bio on the About Us page. I'll let you know when my first post is up hopefully within the next week or so. I am so excited to be a part of the Silicon Valley Moms Blog. As you'll see, I'm in good company over there.

Who Doesn't Love Giant Garlic With Sunglasses?

2008-08-24T21:34:00.000-07:00

I have never been a big fan of amusement parks. Roller coasters make me nauseous and I can do without the standing in line, crappy food and overpriced souvenirs. My kids, on the other hand, do not share my hatred of roller coasters and seem to enjoy the crappy food and overpriced souvenirs. Go figure.

For our last hoorah of summer we braved the heat and took the kids to Gilroy Gardens. If you are ever in the Bay Area, it's actually a nice place for the under eight year old set. My very short three year old could go on all but one or two of the rides and my six year olds could ride several of them on their own. The park is clean and not too big that you can't see it all. We took a spin in a giant strawberry, rode the train and listened to some talking vegetables spew the virtues of healthy eating habits.

But the best part of the day by far was this:

What could be more fun than a giant clove of garlic wearing sunglasses?

Sleeping Together

2008-08-22T22:00:00.000-07:00

Princess Lolly and Princess Frostine shared a bassinet, next to our bed until they were five months old. Then they shared a crib in their own room for a couple more months. One little baby in a big crib just seemed... lonely. They have never slept with their heads more than five feet apart. I have never even considered separating them. There have been many times when one had an accident, or needed some Tylenol and I would turn the lights on, change the sheets, pour the medicine, get a glass of water all while the other slept without even stirring. It's rare that one will sleep in longer than the other. They usually come into my room in the morning one right after the other.

When have a spare room that we use as a playroom. It's connected to their current room by a Jack and Jill bathroom. I figure one day, when we no longer need a playroom, one of them will move into that room. Maybe not. I'll let them decide.

For now, it makes me smile when I walk past their room after they are supposed to be asleep and I hear their little sisterly whispers. I tell them to hush and go to sleep, with no conviction in my voice at all.

Afterthought: It often occurs to me that Gloppy is the only one in our house who has his own room and sleeps alone. Maybe that's why I am never quick to take him back to his room when he makes his way to my bed in the middle of the night.

I've Been Spruced Up

2008-08-21T07:45:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't noticed... I got a makeover. These lovely ladies took my blogspot template and made it fabulous.

They took my ambiguous thoughts on what I wanted my blog to look like and came up with some great ideas. They were a joy to work with and I love my new look. Go check out their website and hop in line for a makeover of your own in you need one.

Extended Vacations and Disconnections

2008-08-18T13:52:00.000-07:00

**UPDATED BELOW**

So we made it back from our little lake vacation. I hope you enjoyed my guest posters. Thanks for being nice to them. Weren't they great?

We had a phenomenal time. Just like we hoped there was lots of jumping off the dock into the lake, riding a giant inner-tube behind the boat, afternoon walks to the ice-cream shop, barbecuing every night, bonding with our cousins during moonlight boat rides in our pjs.

You can read more about our adventures at my sister's blog here, here and here. Just look at my adorable family and how much fun they're having.

I know right?!?! We all wished we could have stayed another week. It was hard to say goodbye to the lake.

Mr. Mint is currently in the middle of a mandatory two week vacation. This is the first time since our honeymoon eight years ago that he has taken this much time off work. And by "time off work" I mean no conference calls, no checking e-mail every five seconds and not being glued to CNN until the stock market closes at 1pm PST. Every vacation we've ever taken together has involved at least some of the above for at least part if not all of the trip. It's a little annoying. But his company instituted this "mandatory 2 week vacation" policy this year that states that they must be completely out of touch with work for 2 straight weeks.

Before you start thinking, "wow, how great that they want their employees to take time away and be with their families," let me just set the record straight. Mr. Mint works for an investment bank and the purpose of the mandatory two weeks off is so that if they were embezzling money or had some other shady business going on, being unable to cover their tracks at work for two weeks would blow their cover.

Whatever the reasoning, it's been great. So great in fact that we decided that rather than hang out at home for the second week, we'd rent another vacation house and enjoy a last hoorah of summer '08. We are currently sipping wine at a fantastic rental in Calistoga. Life is not so bad when this is your view, they have a wireless internet connection, and your husband is not allowed to call into work:

I haven't been here for a few days since we've been busy unpacking, repacking, driving and settling in at our new temporary home. I can barely coax the kids out of the pool to eat lunch. Yesterday afternoon we ran out of wine, so Mr. Mint just cruised down the road to pick up a few bottles from here. He took Lolly with him and she got to pick some grapes right off the vines. Tonight we will attempt to take the kids to a fancy restaurant for dinner and tomorrow we'll have a picnic at one of our favorite wineries. So don't cry for me.

Mr. Mint is having a little bit of a hard time with this mandatory 2 weeks off thing. He makes an ideal employee... incredible work ethic, fiercely loyal, can't relax until he answers every last e-mail and returns every last phone call. It's one of the things I respect about him, but it's hard on our family sometimes. I can see him itching to check his stocks, peek at his e-mail or jump when his cell phone rings.

While we were at the lake with my sister's family, my brother-in-law took a few conference calls, constantly checked his e-mail, etc. In the middle of the week he got a message from his boss saying that employees weren't allowed to put "out of office" messages on their voice mail or e-mail when they were on vacation. Am I the only one who finds that ridiculous? I know we as Americans must work hard to keep the world safe for capitalism, but when did we become a nation that isn't allowed to take a vacation? God forbid your clients actually know you took some time off to relax and get to know your family again. In the month of August no less. At least in my experience, it's rare to completely disconnect from one's office in this age of blackberries, wireless internet we all love so much and cell phone service with five bars wherever you may roam. I was feeling a little guilty about not having time to post on this blog for a few days and no one pays me for it or keeps track of how often I write.

All of this is great for the companies we work for, but not so great for our families and children. I have been staring at my screen for a few minutes trying to come up with some closing thought for this post, but my mind is blank. So maybe I will revisit this rant another time. Right now my kids are "bored, bored, bored" and begging me to shut my computer. I'm going to pour myself another glass of wine and jump into the pool with my family.

**Right after I hit publish on this post I grabbed the kids and we all jumped into the pool. About 5 minutes later, Mr. Mint came down to join us. He jumped into to the pool with his Blackberry in his back pocket. I'm not sure what this means.**

Guest Post #4: A Call to Action

2008-08-15T03:00:00.000-07:00

By now I am sadly on my way home from vacation. But lucky for you Katie from Overflowing Brain agreed to do a guest post for me. As you may remember I was assigned to interview Katie for The Great Interview Experiment. You can read that here. But before you do that, read below. I had no idea what she was going to write about, but when she sent me this I couldn't have been more pleased. I think Katie is whip smart and she has a message here that I whole-heartedly stand behind. So read on...

Mama Ginger Tree put a shout out on Twitter last week for a guest blogger and I volunteered. Because I really don’t want to clean my house and well, it just isn’t a real week in our house if I don’t spread myself too thin. Just kidding. Mostly.

Anyways, I volunteered without having any idea in mind of what I was going to write. You’d be amazed how much pressure is involved in blogging for someone else. If I post something that isn’t funny or thought provoking on my own blog, it’s no big deal, but on someone else’s? It’s a whole new ballgame. The kind that gives you hives and anxiety attacks. Again, I kid. Kinda.

I sat down to think about what I wanted to do here, besides write a 3 paragraph preface to a blog, and I kept coming back to one idea. Most of you probably don’t know me, so this is a good opportunity for me to present this to a different demographic than that of my own blog readers. It’s not going to be exceptionally humorous, but hopefully it’ll make you think, or even better, act.

I’m a 25 year old wife, teacher, student, blogger and well, woman. And I’m here to talk to you on behalf of the woman part of me about something that is near and dear to my heart- boobs.

In the fall of 2006 during a monthly self-exam, I found a lump in my breast. I ignored it 2 solid months before mentioning it to my then boyfriend (now husband, who is in medical school). To say he was a little upset with my intentional ignorance would be a vast understatement. When I told him that my breast had also been leaking he nearly shat a brick, a metaphorical reaction I’m actually getting quite good at eliciting from him.

Eventually with my husband’s ~~nagging~~ insistence, I made a doctor’s appointment for The Lump. My gynecologist thankfully took me seriously and sent me to have bilateral ultrasounds and to a plastic surgeon who specializes in breast issues. The ultrasound report, which we received the week before the appointment with the surgeon, stated that both breasts were normal. We breathed a great sigh of relief, I cannot tell you how wonderful that felt. Now we just had this one last hurdle to clear, the surgeon, before we could resume life as normal again. Before we could safely ignore this molehill on my mountain (ba-dum-chink!)

The first thing the surgeon did was her own ultrasound. Despite my previous pristine ultrasound, her ultrasound showed The Lump rather clearly. And so we took the next necessary step, a biopsy. And folks, it was not pleasant, I’m not going to lie to you. But the pathology came back beautifully benign and the scar is completely clear now. I was diagnosed with fibrocystic (lumpy) breasts and I was told to come back to the boob surgeon in 1, 3, 6 and 12 months post-op just to be safe.

I’m happy to say that the 1, 3, and 6 month checks were normal. Which of course, means the 12 month one wasn’t. After 6 months of no change, The Lump grew back. I could feel it myself, so I wasn’t surprised when the ultrasound showed its reemergence. Only, not only did it reemerge, it changed. It was growing bigger and faster than before. Like a Nike commercial. Only, you know, as a lump in my boob.

We decided not to do anything right away and wait a few months to see what would happen. About a month before my scheduled re-check, The Lump started causing some, um, leakage, and having learned from the last time (see honey, I’m evolving!), I made an appointment right away. The ultrasound revealed what we feared. The Lump was bigger! Growing faster! Much much scarier!

I had anticipated another biopsy, which was well within the realm of things I could deal with. So when the surgeon said “quadrantectomy” which is to say, the removal of an entire quadrant of my boob, I panicked. I panicked so much that I pretty much lost my ability to function, as evidenced by my complete inability to ask questions at the doctor’s office and the “love tap” I accidentally gave another car with my bumper in the parking lot on the way out. Whoops.

Eventually I got myself together (read: I got my husband to come back with me to the doctor) and we got information. We scheduled surgery. On April 22nd, 2008, I had a quadrant of my right breast removed and analyzed. After an excruciating week-long wait, we got the pathology. No cancer. We jumped for joy. Multiple ductal hyperplasias, one atypical. We stopped jumping.

In that one moment, a lot of things changed in my life. I have absolutely zero family history of breast cancer. None. Not a single woman in my entire family tree as far back as we can trace it has ever had a diagnosed case of breast cancer. And yet, at age 24 I got pathology back from a doctor that showed that I had FIVE TIMES the average risk for breast cancer. I was told that every 6 months for “the rest of my life” or “until we find something” I’d have to be assaulted with the ultrasound, looking for changes. I was told it wasn’t so much an “if” as much as a “when.” The words “prophylactic double mastectomy” were shouted out into the void. At age 24.

At age 24 I got a wake up call and a life lesson that I had never anticipated, that I didn’t really want. Through my vigilance, I found a lump. That lump could’ve been left alone indefinitely, but because my husband ~~forced~~ encouraged me to see a doctor, we found out some incredibly valuable information. Because we’re armed with the knowledge of my risk for breast cancer, we can watch for it. We can catch it early if it ever shows up.

I am not the only young woman to be in this situation or to have to face this terrifying reality and I’m speaking on behalf of all those who share in this nightmare with me. I am lucky that my biopsies were non-cancerous. Not everyone is. I’m not writing this to scare you because fear isn’t the key, change is.

Let’s be honest, none of us really want to talk about boobs. And none of us really want to go to a doctor once a year to have them medicinally molested. And I’m completely sure that there’s no woman in the universe who actually wants to have her boob mashed in an x-ray machine or having someone rub cold jelly and an ultrasound wand over them. It’s awkward. What do you say to someone who’s staring at you naked from the waist up?

But I can promise you that for all the awkwardness and uncomfortability in talking about this, being proactive in your breast health is worth it. It might have saved my life and it can save yours.

(Cue cheesy music)

It takes is about 5 good minutes A MONTH. Everyone has 5 minutes a month. I’m working full time, taking classes at night, volunteering at another job and blogging way too often, and I can cut 5 minutes a month out of my schedule to do this. I’m not going to describe how to properly do this exam (THAT would be awkward), but I’m going to give you links galore to help you with it. And if you find a lump, do not wait. I know it’s not pleasant. I know you’re afraid a doctor will brush you off or ignore your concerns. You can’t let that fear guide you. Doctors are not going to dismiss you or your concerns, if they do, you need a new doctor. It doesn’t matter if you’re 23 or 73, your boobs are not things to be fooled around with (medically, that is).

I feel a bit like an infomercial, but literally 5 short minutes each month, 1 yearly visit to the gynecologist and if you’re over age 40, 1 mammogram a year, could mean the difference between stage 1 and stage 3. Breast cancer does not emerge overnight. It doesn’t show up at your door one day out of the blue. It grows slowly but not silently. You can’t stop it, but you can gain the upper hand. But only if you take action- only if you are proactive about your health.

I’m not going to continue to beat this dead horse, I think my point has been made. But in case it hasn’t, go think about the things that are important in your life and consider whether you can spare 5 minutes each month to potentially save your life.

Thanks again to Mama Ginger Tree for this opportunity to ~~stand on my soapbox~~ chat with y’all. Give it some thought, and then tell all the women that are important in your life. Because awkward conversations are a lot better than the alternative.

Guest Post #3a: Papa's Tears

2008-08-13T06:00:00.000-07:00

Apparently when I am on vacation I cannot count. The post below should have been titled "Guest Post #2." So rather than correct my error, I will just call this one "Guest Post 3a" because it's my blog and I make the rules. OK.

Today's guest blogger is my friend MMM. Like V, we've known each other since high school. Shortly after we graduated from college, MMM trained for and ran a marathon. I was so impressed and inspired by her that I decided to give it a try. One evening after a training run, MMM, myself and bunch of other runners decided to get some beers... because nothing rehydrates a runner like beer. There was a guy there named Steve that was paying quite a bit of attention to my friend MMM. As we were leaving I said, "that guys wants to date you." She was completely oblivious and said something like, "no, I think he's just a really nice guy." MMM and Steve are now married with two of the most adorable little children on the planet. Never doubt MGT.

MMM doesn't have her own blog, but just like V, she should. I was thrilled she agreed to write a guest post for me. So enough intro, here she is:

My dad never cries. Well, first of all I call him “Papa” (yes, still at 37) and let me clarify: I’ve seen him cry maybe 5 times in my entire life. Once when his mother died, once when my mother’s mother died, when a dear friend of the family died, a quick tear when he dropped me off at college, and when my hubbie and I announced I was pregnant. Until I began writing today, I had completely forgotten that there was a sixth time that I witnessed the awkward, contorted-faced controlled whimper called “crying” that he unwillingly released. I was lounging on a hospital bed with a huge proud smile on my face, waiting to be wheeled in to have bone marrow extracted.

This was one of the most rewarding days of my life and when I saw the worry on my parents’ faces, I quickly responded with “how could I not do this?” It was a worry that I could never understand completely because I was single, childless and only 27. At the time my only worries were which direction to begin my morning runs, to have a post-run bagel or smoothie and whether I should eat at Pasta Pomodoro or Barney’s.

I was given the opportunity to donate bone marrow to an unrelated 10 year old Brazilian girl in 1997. I say opportunity because it ended up opening my mind and so many doors for me. It was a small price to pay for the things I experienced.

The odds of being selected, screened and passed as a bone marrow donor is 1 in 20,000 (at least that’s what I just found on my quick internet search). Not a common thing and it is not guaranteed because you simply donated blood. So when my husband, boyfriend at the time, was a match for another unrelated girl, we were shocked. What made me fall in love with him even more, was that he took as long as I did to decide to donate. “Yes, of course I’ll do it” was his response. He had a hard outer shell, but had a heart of gold.

His little angel didn’t make it through her first year. Now before I make my next comment let me say that my husband was affected by this. I was just surprised by his first response: “At least she had a little more time.” True, but how about a tear? A scream?” This is a perfect example of the difference between how we parent. He, the optimist, me the realist (ok, the pessimist).

In my experience donating bone marrow is a lot like parenting. You are completely depleted and exhausted; your blood is running around outside of your body; you knew you wanted to do it, but you had no clue about all the feelings you would experience; there are high highs and low lows; your ass and stomach are so bloated because of all the salt you have going through your body (chips vs. IV fluids); and now you have a big chunk of your brain and your entire heart consumed by a little person that shares your DNA.

I know that the girl I donated to survived past the first year. I’m hoping now that she is a healthy 21 year old girl living it up in Brazil. I wonder if she thinks about me, if she thinks about helping others and if she craves nuts like I do. What I’ve learned about this experience since having children, is that I will always have her on my mind and in my heart. In my eyes, we are connected.

Now that I have kids, I understand that I had no clue at the time that I donated what my papa’s tears meant. I’m sure my parents wanted to scream “Are you crazy?! Did you just decide to do this 30 seconds after being asked?!” But now that I have two little humans running around, with my blood in them, testing limits, trying new things, falling, learning and growing, I understand that my papa’s tears contained so much more than I initially thought. The tears were tears of fear, pride, admiration, confusion and joy. If I could feel all these emotions in response to my daughter going down the slide for the first time, couldn’t papa feel all that watching me help someone live?

Guest Post #3: Feeling Alone... Together

2008-08-11T06:00:00.000-07:00

Today's guest post is from my friend V. V and I have been friends since high school (over 20 years!). My high school boyfriend had a friend named J who was always asking my about my friend V. "She's so cute." "What's your friend V doing?" But she had a different boyfriend. To make a long story short, J finally got the girl (V) well after high school and they are now married with a darling son.

We've seen each other through high school, college and everything that has come along since. As you'll soon see we share a bond that will always keep us close. She is an amazing person who really should have her own blog. But for now I'll just steal her fantastic writing for mine.

So I’ve never blogged before. Did I even use the word as a verb in the right way? I’m happy to cover Mama Ginger Tree’s watch while she and the entire Candy Cane Forest are away on vacation, but I can’t promise I’ll do her blog (Why does that word puzzle me so? I think I’m just more comfortable with a pen and lined journal...but I digress) justice, but here I am. MGT is one lady who deserves to be able to cross yet one more thing off of her never-ending To-Do list. And have I mentioned that I can’t possibly ever say no to her? She’s had my back countless times over the years, from teaching me how to clean a beer-soaked rug to cooking my family some of the best comfort food I’ve ever eaten when my dad was ill.

MGT and I have been friends since high school – I envied her sparkling blue eye shadow, lofty blonde hair and ability to flirt with boys. I didn’t even talk to boys during freshman year (not much point, as I still happened to look like one myself). And did I mention that she was a whiz at math and that I absolutely sucked at it? I’d probably still be trying to graduate if she didn’t tutor me through it. On the bright side, 80’s clothes are back in style, so I’d be in good shape there.

Of all the things we shared in common, losing a parent as a child is definitely the most impactful. A loss like this isn’t easy at any age, but I think what we both immediately understood was the way it makes you feel different than the other kids; like you stand out – and not in the “Aren’t I fabulous?” kind of way. As a kid, I always hated having to explain about my mom. It was (ok, sometimes is) painful and people, peers especially, were never quite sure what to say. It was often awkward for me and for them, and I somehow felt like it catapulted me into the land of “different.” Not sure about others out there, but most pre-teens and teens I knew were all about conforming: Vertical bangs? Check. Leggings? Check. Love of Bon Jovi? Check. If memory serves, we didn’t even want to walk down the hallways at school without one of our friends by our side (in fact, it was preferable if all ten or twelve of us could move in an amoeba-like fashion throughout the school).

Now that I’m older, I have a different perspective. The loss of my mom is still hard, but when I grieve, I grieve in a very different way now. I grieve for my son never knowing his grandma. I grieve when I see a grown woman and her mother out shopping or having lunch. I grieve that my dad doesn’t have my mom there beside him when he takes my son to a park or to the library. Every so often, depending on my mood, the weather and so on, just talking about my mom can reduce me to a puddle of tears. But on the vast majority of days, I feel amazingly strong and resilient, like I’m living proof that life does go on and that people who experience devastating sadness can come out of it and have lives that are happy and fulfilled beyond measure.

I’ve survived something that no young girl should have to endure. It wasn’t easy, but MGT made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It was nice to be “different” together. Our shared loss got us through the turbulence of adolescence, the ups and downs of the college years, the fear of finding our way after college, the adjustment to married life and, eventually, parenthood. Our friendship and mutual understanding sustains me to this day. What a lovely thing not to walk through high school hallways – or life – alone.

Guest Post #1: The Games We Play

2008-08-09T08:00:00.000-07:00

By now I'm sure I am having a wonderful time on my vacation in the mountains. Today's guest post is from the lovely Carrie of Cze-Johnson. I put the call out for guest bloggers on Twitter and within what felt like minutes Carrie came up with this post. Go check her out when you get a minute and give her some support.

Hi, and welcome to Mama Ginger Tree’s blog. Though I suppose you probably don’t need much of a welcome, cause you’re probably a regular, and just who in hell is this writing, ANYWAY?

I’m Carrie. I’m a fairly new reader in these parts, but thought it’d be fun to shanghai the Candy Cane Forest while Mama Ginger Tree was on vacation. CLEARLY, the woman NEEDS a vacation if she’s allowing ME to do a guest post... but that’s a whole other subject.

So admittedly, I haven’t been a reader here for that long. Only about a month, actually. So coming up with an idea/topic to post about for an audience I really don’t know for a blog I’m JUST getting to know is a pretty daunting task. I tried racking my brain for something hip and fresh and maybe naked (well.. not NAKED-naked.. sheesh! We just barely MET after all…) something that would be smiled upon by the masses yet hopefully strike a chord.. oh crap. Who am I kidding??? Maybe I should just play a game.

So that got me thinking. We as moms, we as women... we as bloggers and we as PEOPLE do a lot of game playing. And I’m not talking about the Candy Land Variety. I’m talking about those OTHER games. It seems as though through every stage of life... there seems to be some undercurrent of game playing that seizes and takes control of our actions… voluntary and involuntary.

As children… life IS a game. Pretend play, imaginary friends, and never-ending races to see who can be FIRST at whatever. I watch my own children, and often marvel at how EVERYTHING is a game. Sometimes this can be pretty annoying… like when it’s time to get buckled into carseats, or dressed for church, or when I’m on the phone with an insurance company and my daughter yells ever-so-loudly that it’s my turn to make a fart. Most times it’s fun, though… yes.. even the fart game (c’mon.. like you’ve never wanted to make your child GAG from the smell of you like you have for years and years of diaper changes?? No?? oh. Ok.. moving on, then.) But I do enjoy getting wrapped in their innocence and knowing in their world it’s going to be a happy ending.

As teenagers, I recall making it my own mission to drive my parents crazy. This equated to several games… ones of ‘not speaking to them like EVER’, ones of cloak and dagger (“here.. wear this UNDER your shirt, and you can take off the shirt before we get there”), ones of one-upping and begging (“well *I* got 2 more A’s on my report card than so-and-so, so can I have more allowance”) and of course.. the ultimate favorite… the IOU games.. where I would PROMISE to do whatever to have whatever whenever I wanted.

College and dating offered a new set of games… drinking ones, to name a few. But a WHOLE new breed of mind games. If I do THIS, he’s sure to love me. If I don’t do THAT, then this that and the other thing will surely result. Those younger 20s were lonely games. Not that other people weren’t involved… on the contrary, most games were the result of my intent focus on someone else. But those games then? Mostly in my own head. Telling myself I needed to be skinnier, smarter, more available, LESS available, more sexual… the list and rules went on and on. I don’t miss those days.

Eventually… like in that old movie “War Games”… I learned that those types of games I was playing never had a winner. So in my late 20’s, I decided I was done playing games… it was time to find a REAL MAN, and get settled down. HAH. Who was I kidding? That was when the real games BEGAN.

Finding and being courted by a man you intend to keep around for your entire life is like a high-stakes poker game. You’ve learned by this point not to show all your cards right off the bat… you’ve perfected your bluffing, you know how to read your opponent, and to slack back JUST ENOUGH to let them think they’re running the show. But you know better… it’s all a big orchestration, with only the finest conductors not being noticed. Pull it off, and the jackpot is yours. Sometimes… you end up flat on your ass and emotionally broke. Or broken, as the case may be. When that happens.. you may take a detour back into the head games until you are ready for high-stakes again.

So when you DO make it big, and get your jackpot and happily ever after finish… the games are over, right? Nope. This is what I tend to refer to as the ‘truth or dare’ stage. And by that I don’t mean ask my husband if he dares to not tell me the truth about something. No.. this is the time of life when you must be honest with your partner. At times you must be brave. You step outside of your comfort zone because someone you love and trust asked you to. Don’t believe me? Ask any wife who has had to clean up a vomitorium from a husband who is sick or had too much to drink. Ask a husband who has had to pretend his wife wasn’t hormonal during pregnancy. Or ANY spouse who feels the other is just as attractive to them even though they have put on a few pounds.

Having children brings you full circle. As a parent, you play with them. But in addition to this cycling back, you take on a new set of games… ones that you are the superhero, and can make anything better. No matter what. One look from your own child, and you are involuntarily thrust into that role. You WILL protect them. At pretty much all costs.

You’ll go without sleep. You’ll not get your hair done. You’re wear last year’s clothes, you’ll eat cold food, you’ll stay home or you’ll go to work and a plethora of other things... all in the name of love. Because that’s what Superheroes do.

Of course... every relationship we as humans create tends to have its own set of rules. From in-laws to neighbors, co-workers and your child’s teachers. Even Bloggers. We read, we comment, we like, we link. Sometimes the moves are simple and natural, and in those movements we take the greatest leaps forward as individuals and within the relationship. Sometimes... we take or witness calculated actions. Playing nice, seeking popularity, or even to ostracize. Let’s face it... some folks are just playing to win.

So regardless of the stage of life you happen to be in... let’s take a minute to applaud Mama Ginger Tree. She and the other players in her Candy Cane Forest are wise to treat life as the game it is. I have a strong feeling that everyone in her game comes out feeling like a winner… and as she says on her masthead… that is always sweet.

Same Bedlam, Prettier Surroundings

2008-08-06T20:56:00.000-07:00

The Candy Cane family leaves for vacation tomorrow. I'm a little bit in denial. There is still laundry to be done, lists to be made, mail to stop, swim lessons to cancel, blah, blah, blah. I have never been a good packer, and now I have to pack for three other people. However, this is the first vacation we've taken where no one in the family requires diapers of any kind. Hooray for underwear!

We've rented a lake house with my sister and her family. It's the same house we rented last summer and we had a blast. We'll be spending our week jumping off the dock into the lake, deciding between the ice cream shop or shaved ice stand for an afternoon snack, renting bikes and having a picnic in Yosemite, taking moonlight boat rides with a pitcher of margaritas, water skiing, and barbecuing. You know, lake vacation stuff.

The very first vacation Mr. Mint and I took after becoming parents was when Lolly and Frostine were 11 months old. We flew to Kauai for a week. The plane ride was every parent's nightmare. There was spilled Diet Coke, diaper blow-outs, walking up and down the aisles and lots and lots of tears. Mostly my tears. I was wiped out by the time we got off the plane in Kauai and that was just the beginning. The girls were on the verge of learning to walk and did not want to sit in the stroller. They couldn't quite walk on their own so we ended up carrying them everywhere we went. They hated the ocean and would cry the moment we stepped onto the beach. The crying didn't stop on the beach though. Apparently my good sleepers at home did not translate to good sleepers on vacation. They were up all. night. long. Naps were a struggle. If you've ever taken two 11 month olds to a restaurant, you can only imagine what two sleep deprived 11 months olds and their cranky sleep deprived parents are like in a restaurant. The plane ride home was worse than the one there.

The next week I was complaining to another mom in my mom's group. This mom had twins the same age as mine, except they were her third/fourth kids. She also happened to be a pediatrician and one of the most relaxed mom's I had ever met. I'm sure she got a kick out of all of us first time mom's in that group who peppered her with questions and asked for advice. She told me I needed to look at vacations from a different perspective. Her words were something along the lines of when you go on vacation with young children, it's the same chaos of your usual life, just with better scenery.

Since that first trip I've gotten smarter about vacations with the kids. It's about creating memories for our kids and having their hard working dad around for more than a couple hours a day. My mother-in-law will be joining us as well. This is a woman who told Mr. Mint not to marry me because I was just going to take all his money and divorce him. But we're past all that now and I couldn't be more thrilled to have her coming on vacation with us.

But never fear, I haven't forgotten about my readers (all 5 of you!). I have some stellar guests posts in store that you won't want to miss. So check back and give my guest writers lots of love. They deserve it.

The Great Interview Experiment

2008-08-06T03:30:00.000-07:00

If you haven't yet heard of Neil Kramer's Great Interview Experiment where have you been? Under a rock? The premise is that all bloggers are compelling and deserve to be interviewed. I couldn't agree more. If you dig deep enough, everyone has a story to tell. Bloggers just do the digging for you.

All you have to do is leave a comment here and you will be assigned to be interviewed by the commenter right before you and you will in turn interview the commenter that follows you. So go over to Citizen of the Month and sign up. But read this first. Then go sign up.

I was assigned to interview Katie from Overflowing Brain. To say she has a lot going on in her brain would be an understatement. I truly enjoyed reading Katie's blog and getting to know her. Not only is she frank and honest about her health issues, but the more upbeat parts of her life as well. Just check out her posts about her recent wedding and I guarantee you will find her delightful and funny. My questions here just scratch the surface of all that she writes about, so I highly recommend adding Overflowing Brain to your feeder of choice.

So without further ado, here is my interview with Katie. Enjoy.

Why did you start your blog?

A few years prior to starting my blog I joined an online community that's more focused on health issues (because, did you know, I have some of those? I didn't think so). After a few years there it became apparent that I had an interest in writing about things other than just doctors appointments and health concerns, but that just wasn't the right forum for it.

So I switched over to blogger and now weave what I find to be funny in with the health stuff. I love to write and I find myself absolutely hilarious, so it's a great place to deal with both of those things.

What have you learned/gained from blogging?

Hmm, as of last weekend when I changed my template I learned what a huge pain the ass it is to try to deal with HTML code, but that's probably not what you meant.

Honestly, blogging is like free therapy to me. I get to air out my problems, concerns, and life experiences with other people, some of whom have been there before, others who haven't. It's been really helpful to me in dealing with big things that I otherwise would've kept bottled inside until I would take them out on my (now) husband. I was able to share my fears, triumphs, big fat failures and much more. I'd like to think that I've sharpened my comedy skills too. My husband would disagree with that.

Is there anything that annoys you about blogging?

One word: trolls.

I will never understand the mindset of someone who reads a blog voluntarily and then signs on as an anonymous reader to leave a snarky comment. It's inevitably on that one blog post where you need help and support the most and it just makes me crazy. Which is evident in the fact that I cannot just leave it alone. I once said I wasn't going to dignify their comments with a response and well, I'm a liar. I take the bait every single time and blast back. It annoys me that people find that an acceptable thing to do to someone else or that they get their jollies from it. I just wish there was a more creative way to say that if you don't like my blog, stop reading it! It seem so logical to me, and yet, time and time again, the same thing happens.

You have a lot of experience with doctors and now you are married to a med student! What are the top 3 qualities you think make a great doctor?

What makes you think I have a lot of experience with doctors? Is it that I have 4 appointments with them in the next week and a half? Um yea, so I've kept the New Orleans medical community in business for the past 2 years. I like to support my city, what can I say?

Okay, but seriously, the top 3 qualities:
1) Listening- not just not being quiet, but genuinely listening to a patient's concerns and then addressing them. So many doctors sit quietly while you talk but then don't actually hear a single syllable you've just said in your exasperation with your health.
2) Honesty- my favorite question to ask a doctor is, if it was you or your child, what would you do? This is because so much of the time in my health problems, the decisions have been left up to me. Having a doctor be completely honest with me about what they would do is immeasurably helpful. But also just honesty about what's going on. If you suspect something serious, tell me. I'm going to find out eventually and I am a professional worrier. Let me do what I do best.
3) Personability- this is decidedly less important than the other 2, but I don't want to go to a doctor who I feel doesn't like me. If I'm going to talk to you about my brain, or my nether regions, or my boobs, I want to feel like you care, but aren't judging me. Engage me in conversation and don't roll your eyes or look away. And if you're working with kids (I don't have any, but I'm pretty sure I was one once), engage them at their level. Don't try to be their best friend, but make the doctor fun and less totally scary for them.

Looking back, are you glad you decided to have brain surgery? What was your biggest fear before the surgery?

With very few exceptions, I've never regretted the decision. It was an incredibly difficult decision, but I found a great surgeon who sat through not one, not two, but three appointments just to answer my questions until I felt completely informed about my options and what the surgery would be like. I'm having some head difficulties now, but even still, that surgery, at the very least, bought me 8 months of peace from headaches. And that has been completely amazing. It's given me a second chance at a lot of things and allowed me to return to the person I was once before head pain began ruling my everyday life. I'm hoping that this latest jag of headaches is just going to disappear magically. Yes, I'm totally delusional.

My biggest fear? Hard to say. I know that I don't tolerate anesthesia or painkillers very well, so I was (rightly) afraid of the first day post-op, which involved much gagging and dry heaving (pretty!). But I guess I was also just afraid of what anyone would be afraid of in brain surgery. Pain, infection and most of all, that it wouldn't work.

I love the story of how you met your husband. Would you say it was love at first sight?

Yes and no. It was more love at first 2 hour conversation. The first moment I saw him was one of extremely great pain and embarrassment. Hi, nice to meet you, I'm the girl who didn't move when the giant guy came running at me because somehow I found it more important to guard a fake flag. Needless to say, it was not one of my finest moments (and yet oddly, not even on the top 10 stupidest things I've done). But, after several people helped me get off the middle of the football field and I stopped screaming/bawling like a baby and sat down to converse with Slappy, I knew there was something there. He was charming and funny and exactly the kind of nice guy I'd been waiting to meet.

What was the best part of your recent wedding?

Good question! My wedding was by far the best day of my life. It was everything I wanted and more. I was immeasurably happy the whole time and if I could do it again, I wouldn't change a thing. I really couldn't stop smiling the entire day. The photographer asked me to not smile for a few pictures and I only lasted like a frame and a half before I was smiling again. It was just so wonderful to share my love of my husband with our family and friends. And how often does your husband split his pants open in the middle of the dance floor? Not often enough, I say.

Was there any family drama or did everyone behave?

Ha. Haha. Family drama is pretty much a requirement around here. For the most part, everyone was on their best behavior, but since you asked... My MIL (who does not like me very much) refused to remove her sunglasses for about half of the pictures from the wedding. Everytime I look at those particular pictures I want to strangle her.

I also (foolishly) gave her the authority to decorate our table signs with ONE string of Mardi Gras beads after several months of her nagging that "it's not a party without Mardi Gras beads." And much to my surprise (not!) there were extra beads ALL over the cake table. I sent my mom on a reconnaissance mission to clean the beads off the table. It's not about the beads. It's about controlling the crazy.

Oh, and the last dance song was one that my MIL hated. It was going to be our first dance song before she deemed it "the worst song she'd ever heard." So it was our last dance song instead. And I perhaps derived a great deal of pleasure from watching her stomp back to her seat instead of dancing through the last dance. (Victory!)

Did you change your last name? Why or why not?

Not officially yet, but that's only because there was a typo on our marriage license. Somehow I didn't notice that my first name was misspelled until my mom pointed it out the morning of the wedding. So we're waiting for the correction to be processed and then I'll get down to business getting it changed over.

I don't have any great attachment to my maiden name. I have a sister and 4 step-sisters so our last name isn't sticking around. That, and Slappy is my family now and I want everyone to know it.

What does your husband think of your blog?

Ha. He vacillates between not giving a crap and being moderately annoyed by my obsession with the internet. I think he'd be happier if I hadn't joined twitter and stopped being able to sit still for more than 10 minutes without having to see if anyone tweeted anything interesting. It's bad. From the start he's been firm about not starting a discussion about the blog unless it's really important. He wants me to feel like I can post anything I want to without having to check with him first. He's very supportive as long as I don't spend all our "us" time on the computer. Which is something I'm working on.

Are there any topics that are off limits on your blog?

Anything that reveals the true identity of my husband. Because he's applying for his residency this year, he needs his name and face to not be tied to anything that doesn't reflect really well on him. And not that the blog doesn't, but um, I'm pretty sure that residency programs don't want to hear about his flatulence or tendency to cheat in contests. Aside from all things Slappy related, there are very few limits. I won't name the school I work at or any specific details about it because I hope to keep both my job and blog, but that's really it. I've been using a little more profanity than usual (which is fairly unlike me), but I attribute it entirely to watching both seasons of Dexter in a week and a half and I'm working on it.

Everyone jokes about the lonely life of a doctor's wife, but you seem to be realistic about it and OK with what lies ahead for you guys. Would you say that's true?

To a certain extent yes. I knew from the day I began dating Slappy that he was going to be a doctor and I made a choice early on that I would stand by him no matter what. I try to support him in whatever he does and I want him to achieve all of his wildest dreams, regardless of how many years of residency and how many different fellowships they require. I got a good reality check his first week on his latest rotation when I didn't see him for 3 straight days and it was admittedly a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated. I think it'll be a struggle, but at the same time, I also require a lot of alone time to maintain my sanity. I'm not glad he works crazy hours or looking forward to him being gone all the time, but I guess I'm one of those (crazy) people who feels equipped to handle it. Check back with me in a year, I'm sure I'll be singing a whole new tune when he's on call at the hospital every 3rd night.

You grew up in California and are now a resident of New Orleans. What was the adjustment like?

It was actually a lot easier than I anticipated. I had a horrible time acclimating to college life (a whole 2 hours from home) and spent the entire first year wanting to run home, so I was apprehensive about the move. But after spending a year doing the long-distance relationship thing with Slappy, I was ready to move. And I have loved it here from day one and have hardly looked back since. I'd love to get back to California someday to be closer to my family, but I'm also really enjoying the chance to live somewhere totally foreign to me.

What's the best part about living in New Orleans and what is the worst?

The food here is amazing. It's better than anyone describes. The people are also, for the most part, absolutely lovely. People ask you how you're doing here in a way that indicates that they actually want to know, they're not just asking to be polite. My neighbors will engage me in hours of conversation and I feel a great sense of community here. And did I mention the food?

The worst is probably the bugs and the weather. We have a small cockroach problem. Well, actually, small would be the wrong word. They're huge and they fly. And we have to get our house sprayed every few months when they overcome the previous spray and start invading our personal space. There's almost not a single day goes by that I don't encounter a live or dead cockroach somewhere in my house. Envy me. And the weather. It would be an overstatement to say that there are even 2 seasons here. It's either warm and humid/rainy or cool and humid/rainy. And I'm from California, so my expectations for separate seasons are low, but I would love to have a break from the lightning every few weeks.

What's the one thing in your life that you are most proud of?

Tough question. I'm pretty proud of my marriage because we didn't have the easiest time getting to where we are today. A full year of long-distance relationshipping and our share of complications, but it has been so incredibly worth it. I also happen to be an excellent mother to my cat. I'm not especially proud of the fact that she weighs 15 pounds.

Who are your two favorite bloggers?

No way can I narrow it down. I have a number of friends I've met through my blog and I love reading their blogs because I know them and I feel like I can relate. On the other hand, I have a list about 20 blogs long that I try to read through regularly not including those real world friends. I couldn't narrow it down to 2 if you paid me. Well, maybe I could. Send me a check and I'll try again.

Have you ever posted something and then regretted it?

Until recently my answer would be no. But then last week my husband suggested I post a contest about stupid things he says and well, in case you're wondering, the post magically disappeared. It just ended up being a little too weird. It does happen pretty often that I'll post something and be like, "oh my God, I am a comical genius" only to have like no one think it's funny. Story of my life.

Has being a teacher made you more or less excited to become a parent someday? Or perhaps just more sure of what kind of parent you want to be?

Teaching has made me much more afraid to ever be the parent of a teenager. I only deal with them for a few hours a day and I want to kill them, I can't imagine having them live in my house. No, but really, it has given me great perspective on how parents really shape their kids. Parent teacher conferences are often the most helpful tool in understanding students because those parents are such a huge part of their kids framework. I never want to be a parent who makes excuses for my kids, I don't want to enable them to be lazy, but I do want to instill in them a passion for learning and an understanding of the importance of hard work. I've always wanted to be a mom so I don't think that teaching has increased that desire, but it has surely shed some light on how I want to go about it.

I know you have some opinions about baby names. Have you and Slappy discussed names and do you have a favorite?

We have discussed some names, but he's unwilling to commit to any, except Talula does the Hula from Hawaii. That one is a lock for our first child, regardless of gender.

Having a gaggle of sisters, I've claimed a few for the future, but none that I'm willing to disclose right now. And also, we happen to be horribly indecisive, so there's a good chance that our kids will be called Baby girl/boy McSlapperson for the first days. Or weeks. Or years.

Does it annoy you that everyone starts asking about babies right after you get married?

Nope. It annoys me when people won't take my answer of "in a few years" and let. it. go. I'm not going to have kids because you think I should. I'm going to have them because my father wants to be a grandparent so much that I feel guilty for not procreating already. I mean, because I love kids. Right. That's it.

If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go?

I studied abroad for a semester in Athens, Greece and I would LOVE to go back. I know it's odd to want to go somewhere you've already been, but I had the time of my life there and would love to share that with Slappy. I'd also really like to see Italy and parts of Africa.

Lastly, Coke or Pepsi?

Either, as long as it's diet. And has rum in it.

Heather O'Hara From Cupertino, Ca

2008-08-04T22:02:00.000-07:00

The day my mom dropped me off at California Lutheran University was one of the scariest days of my life. I was so very ready for college and all it had to offer, but I was terrified to be on my own. My mom and sister help me set up my dorm room, find the cafeteria and then they left. I immediately broke out in hives. I was scared to death.

Bu then Heather O'Hara from Cupertino asked me to go to dinner. She was my roommate. A bright, sunny red-headed girl with a passion for Mustangs. She was so chipper it was almost freaky. That first night we sat up getting to know each other. I shared some popcorn from my electric popcorn maker and she marveled at the fact that I didn't like beer. CLU is a very small place and 90% of students live on campus for all four years. We shared a bedroom our entire four years and became inseparable.

Heather was the life of the party and spontaneous, while being kind hearted and nurturing at the same time. We rarely argued about typical roommate stuff. I won the roommate lottery getting paired up with Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, Ca. We took crazy road trips, pulled all nighters, dated the bad boys, went to Chapel (almost) every Wednesday, went to three Steve Miller concerts together and did all manner of crazy co-ed stuff. Always together. I once told her if she were a guy I would marry her.

We became each other's family away from our real families. Heather O'Hara from Cupertino was the one who took me to the emergency room when I fell into a patch of cactus with a cute boy. I sat in that same ER with her for three hours while she waited to be diagnosed with mono. She held my hand and handed me tissues while I cried about whichever boy broke my heart that week. She always had my back no matter what, and I had hers. We would stay up late into the night sharing a Sara Lee Banana Cake and spill our deepest, darkest secrets with each other. I once told someone one of her secrets and she found out. She accepted my apology and never held a grudge. She was that awesome.

Me and Heather, circa 1992

After we graduated, we got ourselves an apartment in the big city and real jobs. That is when things started to change. Heather O'Hara from Cupertino was miserable. She was ready to be a grown up, while I was still having a hard time letting go of the college student lifestyle. While I embraced living in the city, she was clearly not enjoying it. When she decided to move back to her hometown (which is Cupertino, not too far from SF), I was pissed. This was not part of our plan. We grew apart. We briefly reconnected and she made an effort, but I was not in a great place and I blew her off. I meant to call. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Months turned into years.

My mom absolutely adored Heather O'Hara from Cupertino and asks me about her often. I get snappy and mad when she asks me if I've ever heard from her. I'm not at my mom for asking. I'm angry at myself. Because this is just plain wrong and thinking about her makes me want to cry. We didn't attend each others weddings. She has never seen my kids or met my husband. It seriously hurts my heart just to type that. It's just not right.

I'm sure by now you're asking yourself why I don't just call her already. I've tried. I've tried Googling her name in every fashion I can think with no luck. I'm sure she's married by now and has a new last name. I've tried out alumni association, but they can't find her either. I've Googled her brother's name as well as her parent's. No luck. I even went to far as to contact the church she used to attend in Cupertino, but they never answered my e-mail.

Which leads me to the whole point of this post. Maybe, just maybe Heather O'Hara from Cupertino will Google her maiden name and come across my little blog. Maybe someone who knows how to contact her will come across this. I know she'd be mortified to have all this personal information about her on the internet.

It's a long shot, but I want so badly to reconnect with her. So Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, send me an e-mail (mamagingertree@gmail.com). Please. I owe you an apology and I want to know what path your life has taken. I want to sit down with you and relive those life changing years we shared. I miss you terribly.

Go hug your friends old and new. Forgive them. Call them. Tell them you love them. Make the effort not to lose touch with the ones that really matter. The amazing, should be life-long friends like Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, Ca.

Dear Hasbro:

2008-08-03T16:44:00.000-07:00

I would like to discuss your Littlest ~~pain in the @ss~~ Petshop line of toys. I have thus far tried to avoid these little animals in our house, but alas your marketing efforts have paid off. My kids are currently obsessed with collecting and caring for their little ~~pain in the @ss~~ pets.

I am just wondering who decided that this was cute?

Most of the time I can't even tell what kind of animal they are supposed to be. Is that a dog? A mouse? A chipmunk? Did some toy genius at Hasbro say, "I know, let's make tiny animals with little tiny bodies and HUGE bobbling heads with freakishly large eyes." And then everyone around the conference table said, "that's brilliant!"

But maybe I'm not being fair. I mean who am I to judge what makes a cute toy. Obviously my kids are not bothered by the too large heads and creepy bugged out eyes.

I do however take issue with the accouterments that come with these little ~~pain in the @ss~~ pets. Your packaging states that they are recommended for children ages 4 and up. I beg to differ. I have never met a four year old that can keep track of something like this:

That is the teeny, tiny hairbrush that came with one of their dogs, or cats, or mice. As you can see, it fits inside my wedding ring. What 4 year old can keep track of something so small? My almost six year olds sure can't. Can you please explain to me why each little ~~pain in the @ass~~ pet comes with just such an accessory?

I'll continue to buy your little freaky pets because I am sucker for my kids and they are fairly reasonably priced. So can you do me a favor and do away with the tiny hairbrushes, food dishes, etc. Thanks a million.

Sincerely,

Mama Ginger Tree

Take head Polly Pockets... you're next.

How I Feel Today

2008-08-02T11:08:00.001-07:00

Dear Bathroom Scale,

Eff off.

Love,

Mama Ginger Tree

Dear House,

Clean yourself up a little bit. Geez.

Love,

Mama Ginger Tree

Panic Button

2008-07-30T19:26:00.001-07:00

Mr. Mint travels for work. A lot. I have a tremendous amount of respect for single parents. Being all things to all people 24/7 is draining, emotionally and physically. Lately he's been gone quite a bit.

When my twins were infants I would be paralyzed by fear when he was out of town. It was so hard for me to make it through the day knowing that no one was coming home to give me a break at the end of the day. I had elaborate routines for bathing, feeding and rocking my two infants to sleep. When they woke up in the middle of the night, both crying, I would sometimes call him in his hotel room just so he could hear what he was missing. But mostly I would call so I could yell some not so nice things into the phone.

Over the years I've done plenty of bitching about his travels and the strain it puts on me and the kids. He's missed teacher conferences, I've had to flake on my book club and it's not like we're taking fancy vacations with all the miles he has racked up like we did before the kids came along. The reality is that he loves his job and he's good at it. His job allows me to be at home with our kids, it gives us good health insurance, cute shoes on our kids feet and a house that we love that is walking distance to an award winning public school (something very rare in the SF Bay Area). For all that I am grateful. So you can call me a whiner, but don't ever call me an ungrateful whiner.*

Now that Lolly and Frostine are in school and Gloppy spends one night a week with my in-laws, Mr. Mint's trips, while still annoying, are not the huge source of anxiety they once were for me. I have my routine with the kids. I get at least an hour or so to myself during the day. The kids can occasionally entertain themselves for a short time and are old enough for drop off playdates. I eat healthier since I don't eat two dinners, one with the kids and one around 8pm with Mr. Mint after the kids are in bed. No one is around to ask me "why do you watch this crap on TV?" I get the whole bed to myself and I don't get woken up by any snoring. I've come to accept that his trips are part of our life and I need to deal with it the best I can.

But lately when he's been gone I've been paralyzed by a different kind of fear. The fear of rapists and murderers. Our house is big and echoey when all the kids are in bed and I'm downstairs by myself. There are a lot of windows with what I consider not very secure window locks. You can't see our house from the street and it would be easy for someone sinister to walk up our driveway and peer into our windows without any of our neighbors noticing. Then I watch shows like Dateline and Primetime Crime and my mind starts messing with me. I start picturing that hunky, witty Chris Hansen narrating the story of my demise. He'd talk about how my kids slept through all the horror and they'd probably show this photo since it's the only one I have of me with all three of my kids.

My sister would talk about how happy we were on that vacation and how she will never let my kids forget their mother. Then they'd show this photo while Chris interviewed my grieving husband and Mr. Mint talked about what an amazing mother I was and how my kids are in therapy.

I get stuck on the couch because I'm too afraid to turn the lights off and walk upstairs. Then once I do finally make it upstairs, I stay up way too late reading because I'm afraid to turn my bedside lamp off. I'm sure the murderer is watching my bedroom window waiting for me to turn the light off and fall asleep so he can attack.

So all you bad and evil people out there I want you to know that I sleep with this next to my bed.

See that blue button? That's the "panic" button and it will bring the police straight to my house. It only takes about 2 minutes for them to get here. I know this because Gloppy pressed it once while playing with my keys. There were two big, strapping policemen with hands on their weapons coming up my driveway in what felt like milliseconds. So if you're thinking of targeting my house and my family, move right along. I've got a panic button.

*Wow. How's that for a paragraph full of run on sentences. Do they give blogger awards for the most run on sentences in a post, because I think I might have a shot.

The Lazy Blogger

2008-07-30T09:37:00.000-07:00

Rather than re-type an entire post, just go here and read this. Or this one. Because the exact same thing happened today. I'm considering tying their hands behind their backs while I am in the shower. Any other suggestions?

Happy Anniversary Squared

2008-07-29T06:00:00.000-07:00

Eight years ago today I put on a sari for the first time in my life, and we got married.

Then a couple of hours later I slipped into my mother's wedding dress and we got married for a second time.

The life we've built together since then has been filled with the usual ups and downs. Now we have these:

And we have this with a mini-van parked out front.

The arguments seem harder to resolve, some have gone on for too long. Moments alone seem harder to eek out. There are memories, so many memories. We've gotten twisted and tangled in the daily upkeep of our family. Our family.

So even though you are half way around the world today and I'm here in our cozy home, let's try to remember those crazy kids who got married eight years ago today. Let's try to remember how we felt that day surrounded by friends and family from all over the globe. We had no big, grand plans for our life, just a simple life together. Our life together.

But it is grand. Simply grand.

I'll close with the very last song played at our reception before we headed off to our rose petal strewn hotel room.

Much, much love,

Your Wife

The Accidental Mini-Van Driver

2008-07-28T15:56:00.000-07:00

Sometimes mini-vans are hard to maneuver.

I'm just saying.

I Need to Get This Off My Chest

2008-07-24T20:34:00.000-07:00

At BlogHer I went to a panel on Naked Blogging. Naked Blogging is not typing with no clothes on apparently. Imagine my surprise when I was the only one who showed up in a toga.

I jest. Naked Blogging is laying it all out there. Naked posts are the ones I find most interesting and worth reading. It can be scary, but if a woman can get up and talk about trying to commit suicide while 7 months pregnant in front of 1,000 women and get a standing ovation AND everyone wants to be her friend (myself included), then I think it's worth it. Another blogger said that if you aren't a little bit hesitant when you hit publish, then it probably isn't your best writing.

So anyway, here I am exposing something I would normally keep private. Two weeks ago I had a breast reduction. It's was my second one. I had the first at age 20. I am 5 feet 2 inches tall and I developed large breasts around my sophmore year in high school. I learned how to dress to minimize them, but I was always self conscious about it. I overheard a guy telling someone I had the body of a fox, but the face of a dog once when standing by my locker. I remember almost every detail of that day. When I was a senior my mom took me prom dress shopping. I desperately wanted to buy a cute, lavender strapless number from the Jessica McClintock outlet. Every dress I tried on that I was able to stuff my boobs into, was dragging on the floor. If the dress was the right length, I wasn't able to zip it up. I ended up buying a dress that was two sizes too big and my mom hemmed it for me. I remember coming home that day and laying face down on my bedroom floor, crying and just willing my damn boobs to shrink.

Fast-forward to my college years. By then I was a 36 DD. When home for the summer after my freshman year and out shopping with my mom, in the dressing room she casually asked me if I would like to talk to someone about having a breast reduction. Seriously? Yes, yes, yes. We made an appointment with a surgeon to get the low down. The scarring can be pretty severe. I don't care. You may not be able to breast feed. I'm 20, I don't care. The recovery is long and painful. I don't care.

Long story short, I went for it the next summer. Yes, the recovery was painful. It was more than a bit awkward to have to explain the scars to every guy that tried to feel me up (I was in college, remember). But I was thrilled with my new breasts. I could wear a bikini without feeling like everyone was staring at my chest. My clothes fit better. All was right with my body image.

However, 10 years later, I was not able to breast feed my kids. When I was 20, I wasn't even thinking about children, much less how I was going to feed them. I gave it a shot. But it is hard enough to breast feed twins when you haven't had breast surgery, let alone when you have. I was able to pump a little bit of milk to give them in their bottles, but it was an incredibly painful (and bloody) process. When I took my twins to their one month check up my pediatrician ask me how breast feeding was going. I immediately burst into tears. We ended up having a half hour conversation about it and I gave it up. I have an incredible amount of guilt about it, but I'm over it now so please keep your breast is best comments to yourself. I can guarantee you I was a better, more rested mom when I stopped pumping.

Moving on.

After Gloppy was born my breasts went from a large B back to the DD. They were heavy and uncomfortable. I read somewhere that empire waste dresses look great on large chested women. Well every time I put one on the waste line ran right across my nipple line. Not exactly a great look. About two weeks a months my breasts would become so swollen and sore that if someone just grazed one of them, I was in pain.

Then I read this post. It had never even occurred to me that I could have the surgery again. Rebecca is a rock star to me. I mulled the idea over in my head and finally decided to see a plastic surgeon. Two weeks ago the amazing Dr. R removed a little over TWO POUNDS of tissue from my chest. Strap a two pound weight around your neck and walk around for a day. And (bonus!!) he also lipo-suctioned out some of my back fat. I am still swollen and sore at this point, but I will end up as a large B, small C. The recovery has been no picnic. The doctor sent me home with orders not to lift anything for six weeks. Um... OK. Do you realize I have three kids and my laundry is on the first floor and our bedrooms are on the second floor? And did I mention that I have three kids and my husband travels like a lot? It still hurts like hell to lift my arms. Driving sucks. Every little bump causes a little shock of pain. And my kids are so over the "be gentle to mommy" thing. At the end of the day I am so achy from all the hugs, surprise tackles, and daily mom stuff. I'll spare you the gory details, but if you're interested, check out Rebecca's latest post about breast reduction.

Despite the pain, I am happy I decided to do it again. I think I'll be even happier in a couple of months when all the swelling goes down. My clothes already fit better and when I am able to run on the treadmill again, I know it will be feel more comfortable. I just feel more like me in my own skin.

So there you have it, my attempt at naked blogging or blogging like no one's reading (I've always hated that dance like no one is watching crap, but I couldn't resist). Mr. Mint will be mortified when he reads this post. I guess some of his co-workers occasionally read my blog. So if you work with my husband, just pretend you didn't read the one about his wife's boobs and go into his office and tell him how adorable his twin girls are in their dance recital outfits. Otherwise, feel free to stare at my chest if you know me in real life and ask me anything you like about the surgery. I am an open shirt... I mean book.

p.s. I usually hate thinking up titles, but this is my best title ever right? You gotta admit that title kicks ass.

Setting the Record Straight

2008-07-23T08:07:00.000-07:00

I need to set the record straight. Yesterday I sent a twitter that compared my niece to Baby Kate from Arthur. That's right, I called my sisters baby an aardvark on the internet. Many of you are worried that my sister might find out about this. Just so we're clear, I would never call anyone's baby an aardvark unless I could say it to their face. My sister is fully aware that I compared her child to an aardvark and we had a little giggle about it. My sister has a sense of humor and even if she was offended by it, she'd tell me and then we would kiss and make up. That's just the kind of sisters we are. She even sent me a picture of her daughter (whose middle name is my first name thankyouverymuch) so I could post it next to a picture of Baby Kate. You be the judge:

I think Baby Kate AND my niece are adorable. So everyone is cool, OK? OK.

A Different Kind of BlogHer Recap

2008-07-22T22:14:00.000-07:00

I've been reading lots of recaps about people's experiences at BlogHer. You won't find any pictures of me with new soul sisters sipping wine and collecting swag. You won't here me throw out any inside jokes or talk about how many business cards I collected.

I went to BlogHer with different expectations, actually no expectations at all. It was a completely last minute decision to even go. I found out they had room for me literally a few days before the conference started and since I only live about 20 minutes outside of San Francisco, I decided to check it out. I am new to blogging and never in a million years pictured myself at one of these conferences. I went with the intention of attending a few sessions and just finding out what it was all about. I didn't have a new outfit with matching cute shoes, I desperately need a haircut and I didn't even have a fresh pedicure.

When I walked in I was overwhelmed. It was way bigger, louder and flashier than I ever could have imagined. I went to a couple of break-out sessions and then ended up eating lunch alone in my car in the parking garage. But don't feel sorry for me! I just needed some fresh air and to chill out for a few. I didn't attend any of the fabulous parties. Half of them I didn't know about, and since I just recently had surgery and am still on antibiotics, I couldn't drink anyway.

But this is not meant to be a pity party! I felt like this was my "fly on the wall" BlogHer. It was my way of dipping my feet into the pool before jumping in. I was perfectly happy with how things went. I easily could have put myself out there, introduced myself to more people. I could have sought out my blogging soul sisters and danced the night away. But I wasn't really feeling like myself and since I decided to go at the last minute, I felt unprepared.

Next year I will kick BlogHer's ass. But this year I am happy with my experience. Now I know what to expect and how to get the most out of it. I have two favorite recaps. Click here and here to check them out. One is from a blogger I did not meet and have never read before, but she was in one of the sessions I attended and I have since checked out her blog. The other is from a blogger I read often. BlogHer is like anything else in life. You get out what you put into it. And even those who may seem like part of the sorority have moments where they feel just as insecure as everyone else.

So despite my less than stellar experience, I, like Amy in Ohio, have renewed focus on why I started in this blog in the first place. If I write from the heart and put myself out there for all the internet to see, for every person who shuns me, a few more will embrace me.

Dear Jolly the Sister

2008-07-21T13:00:00.000-07:00

Thank you for giving my kids a stack of post-it notes.

This is just a small portion of the post-it-fest. Right after I took this picture Lolly asked me if I could put them all back together for her. I am so getting this for your kids for Christmas.

-Mama Ginger Tree

They're Both My Favorites

2008-07-19T10:18:00.000-07:00

Lolly and Frostine. Frostine and Lolly. My first borns. There are twins on my mom's side of the family and my dad's side of the family. It never occurred to me that I would have twins. Until my 30th birthday when I went to my very first OB appointment at 6 weeks pregnant and the doctor showed me those two little blobs swimming around in my uterus. I drove home in a daze.

Frostine and Lolly are fraternal twins. Which means they do not have the same DNA. I often get asked if they are identical. But once people get to know them, they realize they are anything but identical. When they were infants sleeping together in a co-sleeper next to my bed, I would reach over in the middle of the night and know exactly who was who just by touching them. We used to call Lolly squishy because she was cuddly and well... squishy. Frostine is all muscle, just like her dad. She's been blessed with great, solid muscle tone.

Lots of mothers of twins struggle with "treating them as individuals." I don't see it as a struggle, because their unique personalities force to me treat them as the individuals they are.

Mr. Mint likes to give me a hard time, saying I play favorites with Lolly. It may seem that way to him, but I know that's not the case. Lolly needs me in a more intense way than Frostine. Lolly is the one who clung to me and cried her eyes out on the first day of preschool while Frostine sat right down and got busy with some crayons. The other night when I had tucked them into bed, Lolly looked at me longingly and said, "when will I see you again?" She always wants to sit on my lap, wear my perfume and needs "one more hug and kiss." I get Lolly. She likes the same foods that I like. She is shy in the same way I was as a kid. She is very aware of other people's emotions. Whether I am cooking dinner or typing on my laptop, she wants to be involved.

I am in awe of Frostine. She is naturally athletic and will try just about anything. Frostine has a competitive streak that is clearly straight from Mr. Mint. When she realized that most kids in her kindergarten class could jump rope better than she could, she would come home from school and practice and practice until she was kicking jump rope ass on the playground. Again, like her father, she is a whiz with numbers. She would breeze right through her math worksheets. Her camp counselor described her as "a spunky go-getter." My hearts bursts with pride when I watch her determination in action.

So yes, Lolly is my favorite. She's my favorite Lolly, and I love her in ways that are only for her. And yes, Frostine is my favorite. She is my favorite Frostine, and I love her in ways that are only for her. I love them in very different, equally deep ways.

And in case you're wondering about Gloppy... he will always be my favorite son.

Dear New Mom I Saw as Starbucks

2008-07-17T22:16:00.000-07:00

I realize you are new to this whole mom thing, but that really isn't an excuse for what you were doing. There was no need for you to change your baby's diaper on the table, where people eat food! There was a perfectly clean bathroom about 10 feet from the TABLE you were using to change your baby's diaper on. I've been in that bathroom. I've even used CHANGING TABLE inside that bathroom. I noticed you at least used a changing pad, but that did not stop you from putting the soiled diaper directly onto the table. You didn't notice the appalled stares from everyone in Starbucks because you were too busy cooing to your adorable baby. She was cute, I will give you that, but I came in for an ice tea and vanilla milk for my kids, not a peep show of her private parts.

You seem like a nice mom who is very attentive to your baby, but please, please do me a favor and change your baby's diaper at home or in a bathroom.

Sincerely,

Mama Ginger Tree

Kicking Sibling Rivalry's Ass

2008-07-17T09:21:00.001-07:00

Yesterday my kids were utterly charming. They shared their things with each other, made up silly games and Gloppy kept saying "we're friends, right guys?" We went to Jamba Juice to get smoothies after camp and ran into some nice firemen who game each of them a plastic fire helmet. All three of them said thank you and Lolly even said "thank you for keeping us safe!" with no prompting from me.

I was starting to think that The Summer Of Kicking Sibling Rivalry's Ass might just be a success after all. You know where this is going right? It started this morning when all three of them came to jump in bed with me at 5:50am. I had one twin on each side of me and Gloppy on my chest. Lolly started some serious whining because my head was turned toward Frostine. When I turned it the other way Frostine said I always pay attention to Lolly and I don't love her. Ugh. This continued through breakfast.

I am hoping they turn back into lovely, supportive sisters at camp today.

The Sun Breaking Through the Clouds

2008-07-16T20:28:00.000-07:00

So last week was a bitch in the Candy Cane Forest. I had minor surgery last Tuesday and it knocked me down. (More on the surgery later... I'm not ready to go there yet). I had lots of help with the kids, but still. I was completely useless. By the time the weekend rolled around, the Candy Cane Kids were tired of being gentle with mama. They needed their laundry put away, their snacks, their hair washed and their spills cleaned up. And only mommy would do. My body is bruised, swollen, sore and I can barely lift my arms. But I sucked it up and soldiered through the weekend, because that's what moms do. All I wanted to do was sit on the couch, read my book and have someone bring me club soda with a slice of lime.

I've also been feeling a little sad that I missed the boat on BlogHer. I hemmed and hawed about attending. I finally decided it would be silly not take the opportunity, especially when it's being held a mere 20 minutes from my house. When I clicked on the register button, I was too late my mere minutes. Oh well.

This week I am slowly coming back to life. But yesterday I was in a funk. Mr. Mint was out of town, so I was flying solo. The house was a mess, the dishes needed to be done and I needed a shower. But I chose to lay down and take a nap when Gloppy fell asleep for his nap. Lolly and Frostine were at camp. I woke just in time to get out the door to go pick them up. I had to rouse Gloppy from his slumber which I hate doing. We both had that post nap hazy feeling that seems to be made worse by bright sunlight.

I was feeling crabby and in pain. When I got to the girls camp, one of the counselors stopped me on the way in and asked if I was Lolly and Frostine's mom. I got that feeling in my gut. You know the one that says "oh damn, what did they do?" When I hesitantly said yes, she told me how much she enjoys my girls and how sweet it is that they look out for each other. I wanted to hug her.

As if that wasn't enough to brighten my mood... when I got home there was an e-mail in my in box saying there was space for me at BlogHer and did I want to attend! Yes, yes, yes I want to attend. I want to spend time meeting all these other fabulous women whose blogs I stalk and whose writing inspires me. I want to meet other newbies like me.

So I'm going to drag my battered body to BlogHer in San Francisco and meet some new friends and talk about blogging. And I'm excited.

Oh yeah, and these guys... I love them. They make me so proud.

100 Things

2008-07-12T18:00:00.000-07:00

Here are 100 things you've been dying to know about me. I love reading other people's 100 Things lists, so if you are so inclined leave me a link to your list in the comments.

1. If I could only eat one food for the rest of my life it would be a tie between popcorn and chips & salsa.

2. My parents met in the air force.

3. My mom out-ranked my dad and was eight years older than him.

4. My very first concert was Air Supply.

5. I'm not proud of that. Or the fact that I have actually attended a Motley Crue concert.

6. I have the same birthday as Oprah Winfrey, January 29th

7. My husband and I got married twice on the same day. First in a hotel ballroom in the eyes of Ganesh and then in a Lutheran Church in the eyes of God about two hours later.

8. I wore a sari for the first wedding and my mother's wedding dress for the second.

9. I've owned four cars over my lifetime, all of which have been Hondas.

10. I can type wicked fast.

11. When I was a kid I always won the summer reading contests. I read everything I could get my hands on.

12. I am 37 years old and I still get carded. Seriously.

13. Sometimes I wish I didn't look so young because I am always mistaken for my children's nanny, or I feel like people don't take me seriously.

14. Before I got married I always said I wanted a boy first followed by twin girls. We had twin girls followed by a boy.

15. I can't go to sleep without reading a couple of pages of something, even if it's People magazine.

16. All through Junior High School I only got one B (in P.E.). All my other grades were As. And I played the flute in the band.

17. I decided to go a different route in High School, my grades fell a little bit and I quit the band. Although there will always be a little bit of the flute playing super geek in me.

18. I went to a small private college in Southern California. It was some of the best four years of my life.

19. I have had plastic surgery.

20. It wasn't a nose job or breast implants.

21. I love to cook, but not as much as I love to read cook books and watch the Food Network.

22. My sister is the best friend I've ever had. We talk on the phone at least once a day, usually twice.

23. My mom was a lamaze instructor for over 20 years. All five of her grandchildren were born via c-section.

24. My ideal vacation would be in the mountains, in a cabin with a fireplace and a huge deck. There would be a lake nearby with fantastic water skiing.

25. I was a Business Administration major in college. I struggled through all my business classes. My best grades were in English and History. I never skipped an English class.

26. One of my proudest moments was when my professor read my essay on Madame Bovary in front of the class in English 101 saying it was "good writing."

27. One of my biggest regrets in life is that I didn't major in Literature or History.

28. Breakfast is my least favorite meal. I am never hungry until at least 10am.

29. I start every day with a cup of Indian black tea with a splash of half and half.

30. My favorite thing about my husband is his sense of humor. My least favorite is his snoring.

31. When I find a blog I really like, I go back in the archives and read their very first post.

32. I have what some would consider an unhealthy obsession with stationery and fonts. I pick out my kids birthday party invites months in advance.

33. I love the Olympics. I always wanted to be an Olympic swimmer but I could never swim in a straight line.

34. My kids have gorgeous, naturally highlighted hair.

35. I am a terrible driver. My minivan has about 10 dents and scratches.

36. Iced tea and Diet Pepsi were put on this earth especially for me.

37. I love photography and looking at other people's photos. I really wish I had better photography skills.

38. I do not like roller coasters or sail boats. I get terrible motion sickness.

39. My favorite books are The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, The History of Love by Nicole Krauss and The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen. (I was the only one in my book club that liked The Corrections).

40. I love a good crossword puzzle, but I usually cheat if I get stuck.

41. I get along really well with my in-laws, but it took a very long time to get to where we are now.

42. I like going to the dentist. There's nothing like that fresh from the dentist feeling.

43. There is no sound more annoying than a leaf blower.

44. I tend to make well thought out plans with the best of intentions, but I suck at the follow through.

45. My kids are very loud.

46. My kids are always hungry. They ask me for something to eat at least every two hours.

47. Right now somewhere in my house is a pile of laundry that needs to be folded or put away.

48. I love falling asleep to the sound of rain.

49. I love waking up to the sound of rain.

50. I think I might be the only woman on the planet who doesn't find Patrick Dempsey attractive.

51. I do however, enjoy Grey's Anatomy.

52. I've watched all 16 seasons of Survivor. If I wasn't married to such a hot stud, I would probably be stalking Jeff Probst.

53. Mascara is the one make up item I cannot live without.

54. I don't really like shopping for or wearing make up. I don't like how lipstick feels on my lips.

55. Handbags and jewelry are a totally different story. It should be illegal for me to own as many bags as I do.

56. My husband has the sexiest hands ever.

57. I love to drink wine, especially while cooking.

58. The only thing my husband ever splurges on is wine. He hasn't bought himself new underwear since 1995, but if he finds a bottle of wine he likes, he'll buy a couple of cases.

59. Sometimes I look at my kids and I'm blown away by how gorgeous they are. Then I wonder if I just think that because I'm their mom.

60. My son cracks me up. I find it hard to stay mad at him because he's always making me laugh.

61. I have a serious sweet tooth, but I can't stand hot chocolate.

62. My husband couldn't care less about dessert.

63. My father died from cancer when I was eight years old. He was 37 and a heavy smoker.

64. I have never smoked a cigarette. It would break my heart in a thousand pieces if any of my kids took up smoking.

65. I've run two marathons. One in Hawaii and one in Alaska.

66. I am a very slow runner, but I enjoy it.

67. I probably won't ever run another marathon, but I would like to train for a 1/2 marathon.

68. Sometimes I miss being pregnant.

69. I don't miss the first few weeks postpartum.

70. The first few months after giving birth to my twins were some of the most difficult of my entire life.

71. I have a complicated relationship with my mother. I have been working on a post about it since I started this blog. It's titled "Unresolved."

72. I am always printing out articles online like "Tone Your Arms -- in 10 Minutes!" I do them a couple of times, then start making up excuses... like Big Brother 5 is on TV!

73. I have three really close friends from high school that I still see on a regular basis. I love them dearly.

74. I don't tell my friends often enough how much they mean to me.

75. There is nothing I hate more than being sunburned.

76. Me + heatwaves = total misery.

77. My perfumes of choice is Happy by Clinique for daytime or Light Blue by Dolce and Gabbana for evening.

78. I love almost every movie John Cusack has been in (except Pushing Tin... wft was that?).

79. I like to listen to podcasts of This American Life while I grocery shop or better yet, cruise through Target.

80. At some point I'd like to spend a year living in Europe.

81. Have I mentioned how much I love Diet Pepsi? Sometimes I run out of milk before I run out of Diet Pepsi. Sorry kids.

82. Hairdressers tell me all the time that I have great hair.

83. Whenever I leave the salon my hair looks amazing. No matter how hard I try I cannot seem to recreate the look at home. You'd think after 37 years of practice I'd be able to make my hair look decent. Alas, no such luck.

84. I can appreciate all types of music.

85. I can enjoy a night at the symphony just as much as a Justin Timberlake concert or an eighties coverband playing at a dive bar.

86. A tall glass of Diet Pepsi over ice with a slice of lemon makes me happy.

87. My kids may eat more jelly beans than the average kid, but they will grow up with good manners. No exceptions. And I'm sorry, but they will never run around a park barefoot.

88. I like to go into open houses in my neighborhood.

89. I think I might be the only person living in Northern California who doesn't like sushi.

90. When my kids are older, I hope they look back and say they had a fun, carefree childhood.

91. I also hope they learn the value of hard work and helping others.

92. If there's one thing my mom taught me it's that all people matter and everyone has a story to tell.

93. I have an iPhone. It's the one gadget I can't live without. I want to marry it.

94. I don't believe in the death penalty, but if anyone every hurt one of my children I might change my mind.

95. I'm not sure what freaks me out more, when my girls become teenagers or when my son becomes a teenager.

96. I hate being late to appointments, losing thinks like my keys, or forgetting birthdays.

97. Since I've had kids, I feel like I've been off my game. I am late for appointments, I lose my keys and I forget birthdays.

98. Chocolate and mint has got to be on of the best combinations of all time.

99. I love shopping for kitchenware. I am on a constant quest for the perfect salad bowl.

100. I'm going to go pour myself a Diet Pepsi over ice.

I am Not a Very Good Trend Spotter

2008-07-09T19:27:00.000-07:00

Case in point:

Circa 1997. Mr. Mint and I have been dating for a couple of months. We both work at the same investment bank in San Francisco. Mr. Mint has been working on a pitch book all week for a new company looking for investors. He shows it to me and asks what I think. I tell him I think it sounds like a stupid idea, and I wouldn't invest in it. It's just a giant on-line flea market. That was a little company called E-Bay.

Flash forward several years and the buzz is all about something called a blog. I ask Mr. Mint what the heck a blog is all about. He shows me and explains what people use them for. At the time I had toddler twins and a newborn baby. I said it sounds like a good idea, but who has time to keep up with something like that.

Apparently me. Mr. Mint has a facebook page. I guess it's only a matter of time before I follow my husband down that road. But not anytime soon.

Hooray For Me

2008-07-01T21:17:00.000-07:00

I did it. I did it. I did it. I posted something on this blog every day in the month of June. 30 day, 31 posts. I even did two posts yesterday. Some of it was crap, some of it wasn't. I used my kids for material quite a bit. I am going to focus on quality rather than quantity for a while. I'm also going to catch up on the five or so books sitting on my nightstand.

So I hope you enjoyed my blogging every day experiment. I am going to go take a nap now.

A Little Piece of Advice

2008-06-30T17:56:00.001-07:00

When your husband comes home from Costco with 50 pounds of cheese tortellini saying that your kids loved the samples they were handing out try to contain your skepticism. You have already tried feeding those kids every kind of tortelinni known to mankind and they have turned their noses up at all of it. Just smile and shove it into your already packed freezer. Bite your tongue when you have the urge to say, "of course they loved it at Costco because it came in a little paper cup, someone else cooked it and their little stomachs are empty since it's almost lunch time.

Go ahead and make it for dinner. Serve some edamame on the side and some red plums. Resist the temptation to call you husband and let him hear your kids response to the Costco tortellini when they discover that's what is for dinner. After you scrape the tortellini off everyone's plate and get a new plate for the three year old (because the previous one was contaminated by the tortellini), ask if anyone wants some cheesy toast. You only have one taker out of three so you ask again just to be sure. When you explain that you are only making cheesy toast once and if they want some after they see their sister's, they are out of luck, you will probably have one more taker. While you're making the toast they will devour the edamame and one will be crying since the other two got more than her. Dig around in your freezer for another bag of edamame and get that started, because when your kids ask for seconds of something healthy, you happily oblige.

When you bring out the cheesy toast just take a deep breath and try to maintain your calm when the one who didn't want cheesy toast asks why you didn't make him any. It's your own fault for even asking who wants some, always assume they will want whatever their sibling has.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that after the presentation of the tortellini, the three year old started screaming for string pasta (spaghetti) and so you got that started before you asked about the cheesy toast. Try not to stick a fork in your eye, or you children's eyes when they don't touch the string pasta.

Lastly, when your husband comes home and asks what's for dinner, just put on a happy face and tell him there is plenty of that fabulous tortellini left and you'd be happy to warm it up for him.

Home Sweet Home: Part 3

2008-06-30T14:42:00.000-07:00

Just in case you are interested, Part 1 and Part 2 of this story can be found here and here respectively.

So at some point (hopefully soon) we will move out of our house for 8-10 months to give it a facelift. Unless you're Paige Davis, who really wants to hear about someone else's remodel anyway. I mean do really care about the first architect we hired and then fired after he wasted about 3 months of our time. Do you want to hear about how we went and hired the same architect that designed our San Francisco house and how we should have just done that in the first place because he is awesome. Who gives a flip about how we had to stalk five of our closest neighbors to get their approval to add a couple of windows and "pollute their yards with light" from those windows. You don't want to hear me whine, whine, whine about how we should already have hired a contractor by now. Bitch, bitch bitch about how I wanted to be moved out and settled in our temporary home by the time school started again, but now I'll be happy is we start before Christmas.

What you really want is before and after pictures. I've got plenty of before pictures, but you'll have to wait a while for the big reveal.

Sigh.

Stuff I Gotta Do

2008-06-29T23:17:00.000-07:00

Below is a list of things I need to get done tomorrow. I figure maybe if I write it here in a public place I might actually accomplish a couple items. I'll let you know how it goes.

1. Figure out my kids swim lesson situation. It's more complicated than you may think. Don't ask.

2. Clean up my house so my house cleaner can clean my house. Hmmmm.

3. Go to Trader Joe's and buy French Toast.

4. Make an appointment for my annual gyno exam which I was supposed to do in January. I know.

5. Drink at least 48 ounces of water. Diet Pepsi doesn't count, but perhaps caffeine free ice tea does.

6. Clean out my fridge, freezer and pantry.

7. Write a fabulous post for the last day of NABLOPOMO!! Hooray.

Home Sweet Home: Part 2

2008-06-28T20:09:00.000-07:00

After much distraction I am finally getting around to writing Part 2 of this post. So in case you haven't read Part 1, go ahead on over here and check it out.

All right, so we left off with us selling our beloved, beautiful house in San Francisco for a larger "fixer upper" house in the suburbs. Like I said before, we love our current house. It has a lot of history and character and loads of space. But I was miserable the first few months. I started calling this house the ice box. The downstairs has high ceilings and it's really hard to heat. It's great in the summer, but we don't really even need to put the milk in the fridge in the winter. It stays about ten degrees cooler inside our house than outside. And the flimsy windows don't help the situation. I often feel like live in a tent because the windows are so drafty. And they leak. We had a particularly windy, rainy storm this past winter. I am not even joking when I say that 16 out of 20 windows in the house were leaking. I ran around trying to find 16 towels to stop the water.

Let me show you a picture of my fabulous master bathroom.

Try to contain your jealousy. This photo really doesn't show how bright that 50 year old tile is. Our closet of a master shower had a leak and caused this lovely hole in the ceiling of our living room.

My biggest gripe is my kitchen. Here is my kitchen before we moved:

And here's my new kitchen.

If you look closely at the photo above, you can see my washing machine. Every time I use my dryer I have to open the window and let the vent out. Not such a big deal, but I can't put a load of laundry in to dry and go to bed without leaving the window open.

Despite the big picture window above my sink, I like to call my kitchen "the cave." The layout of our house is such that the kitchen it totally cut off from the rest of the house. There really isn't much natural light. As you can imagine, I spend most of my day in the kitchen either cooking something, cleaning something up or getting someone a snack. Life was much different in 1935 when our house was built... the kitchen was not the heart of the home. In our old kitchen, my kids were always within sight while I was cooking. No they are usually clear on the other side of the house in our living room. It drives me nuts. Mr. Mint and I both love to cook and we love to have friends over and cook for them. My San Francisco kitchen inspired me to cook. This one... not so much.

I know I risk sounding like a complete whiner with this post. I do love this house, really I do. We have plenty of space for our family. And we are about to start a major remodel that will update the bathrooms, the windows and expand my kitchen and build a family room among other fantastic things.

I've lived in this house and loved it for almost two years, but it doesn't feel like home yet. It doesn't feel warm and cozy. Everything is in limbo waiting for the remodel. We haven't hung many pictures, bought any new furniture or fixed the hole in our living room ceiling. We haven't really made it our own and I'm ready, so very ready.

The remodel has been a slow road so far. I'll save that story for Part 3.

Equal Value?

2008-06-27T20:15:00.000-07:00

I looked at my calendar today and thought "holy crap! June is almost over and I have not written a follow up to this post." But then I read this post, which was inspired by this post, so you'll have to wait another day for the house post. Did you follow that? OK, moving on.

Meghan's and Jennifer's posts really struck a chord with me. What is the value of a stay at home mom? We've all heard the $200,ooo number for if you had to hire a nanny, maid, driver, laundress, grocery shopper, butt wiper, calendar organizer, gift buyer, vacation planner, dish washer, story reader, stroller pusher, cook, etc., etc., etc. Not to mention the emotional and physical price a mom pays every day.

The rest of this post can be found here. Check it out...

NaBloPoMo Filler

2008-06-26T22:33:00.000-07:00

This posting every day thing is kicking my ass. I have about five posts swimming around in my head. But I am so darn tired right now and I can't get a coherent thought from my head down to my finger tips. So let's just call a spade a spade. This post is just filler. Now I've been sucked into this new show, so there is no hope of me writing anything you would want to read.

So you'll have to wait until tomorrow for something compelling to read. OK? OK. Good Night.