I would prefer a Heisman…
*editor’s note: you’ll see no black-markered notes on her tiny hand as she poses….
But I guess a performance in the Nutcracker works too…
Trying to discuss boys, take 1 (and a half)
February 1, 2010 by 18 Comments
This conversation started here.
One Of These Things Is Not Like the Other…
January 29, 2010 by 17 Comments
I must admit even I raised an eyebrow when I saw Queen of Spain blog was nominated for the 2010 Bloggie Award in Politics.
I giggled a bit, grinned, and then puffed up my chest…just a tad.
I’ve spent many years attempting to convince many people that politics = personal. I have nothing but respect for my fellow nominees. The Huffington Post is a powerhouse in aggregating political news and commentary. Wonkette makes me HOWL with their satire and DC smackdowns. Crooks and Liars is where I go when I want the dirt from the Hill and beyond, and Glenn Greenwald of Salon consistently churns out post after post on everything from the Supreme Court to the implications of US policy overseas.
…and then, there’s me. Sure I talked about the White House response to the Christmas Day attempted terror attack…just with a much different spin. I talk about my Weapons Grade hate for Sarah Palin, my feeling on the war in Afghanistan, my anger over Prop 8, my first person battle with our health care system. My undying love for my hometown of Detroit and support of the Automaker bailouts. I defend the First Lady. My very personal decisions and run-ins with the public school system. My personal moment at the political conventions.
But what makes me a bit different is that these politically charged stories are interlaced with my life. They are part of my life, my work, and my passion. Between the punditry you’ll find stories of my struggle with balancing motherhood and career. Posts about my family’s moral compass, teaching sex to my kids, and even just my thoughts as my children grow.
At first glance, this may all seem very out of place in a sea of wonk. But as you read and look around, I remind you that we’re all citizens, voters, and part of this great nation. We fight our fights, we express our views. And most of us do it just like this…over kitchen tables. Over drinks with friends. Over chit-chat at the ballgame. We’re not all experts or policy nerds. We’re Americans. And there are many, many, many more of us blogging our lives, our stories, and our take on what’s happening at our city council meetings and in our state legislatures. We know how it affects our schools, our bills, our homes.
Yes, one of these blogs is not like the others…and I’m ok with that. Because the personal is political.
Spankers Can #Suckit
January 5, 2010 by 71 Comments
It’s been awhile since I’ve jumped into the traditional parenting wars. With my mind usually on politics and how that affects my family, and those diaper and breastfeeding days long behind me, it’s been easier to ignore the usual tiffs that pop up in the parenting blogosphere.
Until today, when I came across this new study basically saying hitting your kids can have some benefits.
I’m guessing hitting your wife can have some benefits too. Keeping her in line, and what not. Hell, I would probably vacuum more often if I thought my husband would hurt me if I didn’t. Smacking your dog around probably has some benefits too, I mean…I bet you that mutt won’t pee on the carpet again if you give him a really good whack! So why not, Jr. too?
After all , you are much bigger than your child. Much more intimidating. And your little bundle of joy no doubt trusts you more than any other person on earth. Trusts you with a love and devotion only a helpless child can. So why not purposefully inflict pain upon that sweet face? Right?
Yeah, I have some strong opinions on this.
I will admit to having whacked a child on the butt once, out of frustration and anger. And it not only served zero good but also served to make me feel like a rotten bully. I broke our trust. I’m my child’s protector, not his monster. And the example I set by intimidating with pain and violence and fear isn’t one I want emulated.
This really isn’t one of those issues where we’ll agree to disagree or anything, and that’s ok. I’m never going to believe threatening or inflicting pain on a child as a way to keep that child in line is ok, and you’ll continue to see no harm (emotionally or physically) in the occasional spank that “doesn’t leave a mark.”
So why bring up this study? Because I’m afraid it will give abusers backing to keep doing what they are doing. Because I’m afraid it will keep up that traditional idea that a good spanking is your God given right to dole out as an American parent.
And I’m afraid it will negate the piles upon piles of other studies showing just how harmful your little whacks really are to your child’s heart, mind, and body.
But never mind that, because you’ll continue to do how you do and I’ll continue to do how I do and we won’t agree. And as a respectful adult I’ll have to suck it up and say things like “I guess we just parent differently” and “well that’s just not how we do things in our house.” And you will go your way thinking I’m crazy and I’ll go mine. Such is life, right?
However, I would ask that you remember when my kid makes the right choice, stays out of trouble, or otherwise does the right thing…it won’t be out of fear…it will be out of love.
Floating Along On Our Tortilla
December 23, 2009 by 6 Comments
Last night I took the kids up to bed, per usual. They brushed teeth, went to the bathroom, etc. etc. etc. It was time to read and I snuggled them into my bed and picked out a Christmas book we’ve never really opened.
We read the book twice, and then my youngest asked what “other” Christmas songs there were.
I went down the list of the usuals. “Rudolph.” “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” They asked me to sing each one, and with my wobbly voice I conceded.
Somewhere between “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” and explaining exactly what was Figgy Pudding…the giggles set in.
They wanted silly songs. With silly words. And of course Dad was called in to help.
After our 12th rendition of “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” and fits of laughter I thought would wet the bed, the stories started. What did I do for Christmas as a little girl. Where did that song come from.
And some how this lead to a mention of Columbus (I think during Rudolph and the ‘Like Columbus!’ silly line) and we talked about the Nina, the Pinta, and the Santa Maria…to which my husband chimes in… AND THE TORTILLA!
More fits of giggles. And jokes about floating along on a tortilla. Eating. Floating. Eating. Floating.
And for the post 24 hours I have heard nothing but “Mom. Mom! What were the boats again? … AND THE TORTILLA! ahahahahahahaha!”
The entire family bursting into giggle fits at breakfast. At lunch. During dinner tonight. And while somewhat annoyed that the joke keeps going and the kids (and one adult) continue to ride the laughter for all it’s worth…it hit me:
This is one of those memories, isn’t it?
The ones everyone remembers until they are old and gray and giggle about each year.
I can hear it now. My son will be in college, my daughter finishing high school…the brother-sister ribbing will start over the holidays and someone will shout “COLUMBUS AND THE TORTILLA!” and the family will fall into a fit of laughter that brings everyone back to that warm place.
I don’t always recognize when moments like this happen. It’s good to call it out, so I can remember. I am so terrified of forgetting so many of these details. Of course I have this blog, but I haven’t done baby books and I’m not a scrapbooker or one to keep every little memento.
What I do know, is I won’t soon forget the Nina, the Pinta, the Santa Maria…or the Tortilla.
Black Friday Virgin: I Needed Protection
November 27, 2009 by 14 Comments
Crossposted at BlogHer.com
I was hesitant.
I was grumpy.
I was in my PJ’s enjoying some post Thanksgiving meal sloth when Megan of Undomestic Diva floated the idea.
“Let’s go shopping at midnight for Black Friday.”
My first thought? Only crazy people go shopping at midnight on Black Friday. Crazy people that get caught in stampedes and only end up saving pennies. Crazy, wild-eyed consumers who are willing to punch out mothers for that elusive fill-in-the-blank hot toy.
I’m not crazy.
I’m not one of them.
I’m comfy here on my couch contemplating more stuffing and pie.
Of course a few hours and one husband arm-twisting later (some background: he’s a coupon freak) I found myself 40 miles away from home, in another Momblogger’s SUV, sipping Red-Bull and talking game plan.
How’s this store laid out?
I’m thinking Bakugon then Barbie then Wii games the Legos then Princess stuff. Should we even try for that elusive Zhu Zhu?
Do we split up and meet later? Is there safety in numbers?
Did you see the line?
Remind me why we’re here again.
Megan was ready to rock. She had her video camera and attitude and copious amounts of energy drinks. Me? I was annoyed I was even talked into this debacle. And I knew it would be a debacle.
What if we were at the store that had an ‘incident’ that made the news? You know that would be my luck. What if the fire marshal only lets so many in and we’re in line all damn night? What if I FOUND NOTHING I NEEDED?
Speaking of what I needed. I came prepared. I made a handwritten list of my children’s wish lists and had studied it again and again. Megan? She had a vague idea what her three boys were asking for.
We’re a pair.
Finally the time came to leave the warmth of our car and head inside. It was 11:55pm and the line was getting long.
We just didn’t realize how long.
It took us 5.5 minutes to find the end of the line to enter the store. We timed it. It was that long.
There were shoppers for what seemed like miles. And the front of the line all had tickets. Paper tickets. What the hell?
Assessing the situation I became increasingly annoyed. This was easily one of the stupidest things I had ever done and I was convinced that given the line and what what was obviously people with tickets for the good deals we’re walking away with nothing worthwhile. This was so stupid.
We’d be in back taking the reject toys.
But… we got in line. What else can you do? I had come this far. It was midnight. I had to get in line. Sure I thought about just getting in my car and going home but… I’m here. I’ve made it out of my pj’s and in front of this store. I can DO THIS.
But something was nagging me. The back of my mind was spinning. Somewhere between getting out of the car and following the line from hell into the store I had an epipheny:
I am my mother.
And it all came back in a flash. My Mom and Aunt had done this when I was a kid. I think my Uncle even went once and got into a fist fight over a Cabbage Patch.
OMG I AM MY MOTHER.
Which means I am now walking into a major toy store at midnight on Black Friday questioning my life. Amazing what shopping does to me.
Finally we made it inside. Despite the line outside you could move around in the store. Everything was on shelves and not as I envisioned, spread across the floor as women scratched eachother to get to it… Megan was in grab mode, I was focused on my list. Must. Stick. To. The. List. Game plan! Game plan! FOCUS! FOCUS!
Of course there were no carts left so we grabbed these big tub things to fill up. It was then my eyes kinda glazed over and instinct took hold.
In front of us? Bakugon. GO GO GO. Any from my list? One. GRAB IT GRAB IT. … Wait…over there…LEGOS… GO GO GO… right set? No. Wait. There it is. Right type? NO. ABORT ABORT.
Where’s the girl stuff? Oh wait, there’s the microscopes. Is it the door buster one? YES YES GRAB GRAB wait… it doesn’t have slides. Look, there’s another. PULL IT DOWN!
Then came the big Barbie camper my daughter has been asking for. The ‘House on wheels’ so her and Miss Unrealistic Proportions can go see the country. The monster box was on the highest shelf. There were four of them. Of course I say ‘Let me go find someone’ and Megan says ‘Screw that I’ll get it down.’
So while I wander off to find an employee, Megan has emptied, flipped over, and stacked our tubs so she can climb the display to get my 4-year old that damn Barbie camper. A crowd gathers. Others have spotted the camper and want it too. Megan (who’s all of like 5′ 2”) is now standing on plastic teetering with a wrapping paper roll trying to push down four boxes that weigh as much as a tv.
Me? PLEASE GOD MR EMPLOYEE MAN SHOW UP WITH THAT LADDER NOW BEFORE WE ALL DIE.
Crash. Smash. Crash. Plop.
You got yours?
Yes.
I’m woozy.
Did they all hit you?
Yes.
You ok?
Just woozy.
Are you ok?
I think I have a concussion.
You’re insane.
We got the fucking camper.
It’s not even on sale.
Shut up.
The rest of the night (early morning) became a blur. I grabbed shiny things. That weren’t on sale. I contemplated purchases no sane woman would (a drum kit? on sale? it’s a door buster? GRAB GRAB GRAB. Wait. I don’t need a drum kit. Jesus I’ll kill myself if my kid gets a drum kit. BUT IT’S A DOOR BUSTER GRAB IT NOW WE GOT THE LAST ONES)
We finally checked out. I declared I was done. Megan, being insane, pressured me for the 3am store opening down the way and more Red Bull.
No. No. Must. Go. Home.
We hugged through bags of toys we didn’t need and I made the trek back home while she trudged on. Through 5am. And rumor has it she has a black eye to show for it this morning.
And possibly a concussion.
What did I learn? You must have a game plan. You must have your lists. You MUST stay focused on ONLY the deals and your lists. You MUST get in line early to get the paper tickets for the big deals. You must have the balls to NOT wait for employees to get things off shelves and be willing to get a head wound.
I’m not sure I’m cut out for this again. I wasn’t sure I saved any money and I was positive I bought junk I never would have considered under sane circumstances ( thumb wrestling masks? Run DMC action figures?).
But I ran the numbers this morning and I saved $110.
I’m as shocked as you are. And my coupon-clipping husband has now dubbed this ‘tradition’ and can’t wait for me to do it again next year.
I’ll mark it on my calendar in pencil. And remember to bring a helmet.
Black Friday alternatives:
Britt Bravo talks buying nothing.
Erika Lovley posts on the trash created by Black Friday
Contributing Editor Erin Kotecki Vest also blogs at Queen of Spain blog
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