My Friends are Hoo Hoos -- and I'm Totally Not Lion

Okay, here’s a video my friend Tom made.



I had to share this because I think it is just freaking funny and that Tom might be insane. I realize it might only be funny because I know him. Tom is an example of the types of hoo hoos I seem to bond with in general. I hate to say this if you are one of my friends – or one of my almost-friends – because that makes you a hoo hoo, too. I tend to meet arrogant hoo hoos…the types who are hoo hoos but have no clue about their overall hooeyness.

Oh, and for a definition, my “almost-friends” are those people I might have been true friends with pre-kids, when I had time to have coffee, drinks or dinner with random people and nurture those for-no-reason-other-than-the-fact-that-I-think-you’re-cool relationships. Now, I tend to just hang out with other people who have kids. If you have children, you get this. Also, the people I hang out with typically have young kids. If you have or ever had young kids, you also get this.

Navigating these friendships is trickier than a one-on-one friendship, however, because the kids and the adults all have to get along, or else it just doesn’t work.

And when it comes to getting along, you better either have similar parenting ideas or a belief that other people’s parenting ideas are their own, because getting judgmental on the parenting front is just asking for trouble.

And these mommy cliques…well they can be vicious. We’re talking meow…hiss…scratch.

This weekend I’ll be blogging from the California Homeschool Network 2008 Family Expo. I know. I know. I keep talking about it, but I’m just so excited. I dig this homeschooling thing, because I like that alternative buzz it gives me. I get to be controversial without dying my hair pink or sharing TMI…or rather, TMsI (the s is for “sex”). Tra la la.

I’m planning to keep up my gratitude journal. Have you started yours? If not, you should.

Here’s my how to on the gratitude journal:

1. Get a notebook, a piece of paper, a computer or whatever else you can put your thoughts to physically.


2. Write down at least five things you are grateful for every day.


3. Read over it occasionally.

Step 3 is optional, but I find it to be an additional source of inspiration if I’m feeling negative. Okay, yes, I’ve only been doing this for a few days, but I’m a believer that this will change my attitude entirely. It already has changed my mood.

If you do this, I’d love for you to share your entries. Write me or paste them into the comments section (I have no idea how to show the comments yet, but I’m working on it).

Here are my five gratitude entries for the day:

1. I’m grateful for my newest writing/editing gig at FiercePharma, because the people there seem really nice, even though we’ve only spoken via phone and Internet.


2. I’m grateful that I’m no longer in the world of academic medicine and that I provide truly comprehensive care to the people who matter the most to me in the world – my children.


3. I’m grateful for the option to homeschool our children.


4. I’m grateful for Earth Café, who makes the best raw vegan cheesecake on the planet.


5. I’m grateful for birth control and reproductive freedom.

Okay, now is this video for real…

or are these people lion?

I’m now laughing hysterically at my own stupid joke.

Toodles!

The End of the Fast

I suck at daily blogging. That’s okay.

Let go of perfectionism…let go of perfectionism…let go of perfectionism…

I made it almost through DAY SEVEN...sort of. I did a little browsing about the Master Cleanse just before going to bed including some information on the man who first developed and promoted it, Stanley Burroughs, who is widely considered a quack. That’s all fine and good, but I also believe the true health benefits of fasting most typically come from a water fast, if at all, because really the body is still processing something on any other type of fast.

Still, the perfectionist in me wanted to finish, just because I said I would. However, when I started to prepare my Master Cleanse concoction in the morning, I realized I had downed an entire liter of maple syrup in less than a week. Now I don’t eat much processed food, so pancakes are rare, but if I do eat a bite of someone else’s pancake, I usually go for the part without the syrup. The fact that I had consumed that much sugar suddenly grossed me out. So, I switched to a juice fast right then and combined my lemons with some oranges and spinach and had a huge, tasty smoothie.

When it came time to make the kids' lunch, I decided I’d just eat. So I did. I didn’t phase back in. I didn’t do anything special. I was totally fine. This might be because the food we make at home is vegan and we generally don't eat a lot of processed foods.

I will say this about the Master Cleanse if you are into crash diets (I’m not)…you drop a ton of weight very quickly. Even my skinny jeans were roomy.

Since I didn’t blog for a few days, I didn’t do my gratitude journal entries, so I’m going to make a longer list of 15. Here goes:

1. I’m grateful that my children are so forgiving when I’ve had a bad mommy moment.
2. I’m grateful that the brain surgeon gets the whole weekend off next weekend so he can come to CHN's 2008 Family Expo with us.
3. I’m grateful that my step mom is walking in the Avon 3-day, that nobody I love has cancer and that my mom is in remission.
4. I’m grateful that I have such a huge, loving family.
5. I’m grateful that I have caring, brilliant, strong-minded-yet-gentle-spirited women that I can call friends.
6. I’m grateful that I have work that is intellectually stimulating, constantly evolving, interesting and flexible and – most importantly – that I can mostly work from home and be with my babies.
7. I’m grateful that my great big minivan holds our whole family, tons of crap and yet still gets pretty great gas mileage.
8. I’m grateful that I, the brain surgeon and our children are healthy.
9. I’m grateful for our doggie.
10. I’m grateful that I live in a walking neighborhood.
11. I’m grateful that the psychobitch I become when I’m PMSing is not my true self, and that she’s only around for about three days a month.
12. I’m grateful that I no longer have to walk the dog (through the gate, down the stairs) with my newborn in a sling and my toddler on one hip while holding my 4-year-old’s hand, a dog leash and some poop bags.
13. I’m grateful that my friend told me about Jon and Kate Plus 8, which ends any pity party I might be trying to host for myself during an intense parenting day. (Trust me...if you think you've got a tough parenting gig, check those two out!)
14. I’m glad that I can’t remember the last time my children were sick.
15. I’m glad that my husband is the most involved father I know.

That was easy.

I swear, I’ve only been doing this for a few days and my outlook is brighter. It pays to have gratitude.

On another note, I love this blog post on an unschooled kid (as in no school or lessons EVER), who decided to go to public high school for his freshman year.

I know I already said it, but I’m so excited to go to the CHN Conference, and I’m super excited to go to the “Unradical Unschooling” and the “Will the Real Unschooler Please Stand Up” sessions. Really, there are so many sessions I'm excited about that I cannot even attend them all. Plus, we're meeting up with our favorite homeschooling family and bringing the grandparents.

Finally, after my fast ended, the brain surgeon wanted to have a little party, since he finally was able to come home after about 4 nonstop days in two hospitals, so he brought us each a delightful cupcake from the world famous Sprinkles Cupcakes. Mine was cherry. For the record, Sprinkles cupcakes come in a wonderful variety of flavors that are not vegan, are not raw and certainly are not part of the Master Cleanse, but they are fabulous. And that's coming from someone who doesn't particularly like cake or cupcakes. Now that’s cheating. Mmmmmm…Then the brain surgeon’s pager went off again and he left. Boo hoo.

Toodles!

I’m Freezing

This marks the end of DAY SIX of the Master Cleanse (I love putting different links for this) and I’m just really, really cold. Really, I’m feeling abnormally cold. It’s like I blew my thyroid gland or something. Apparently this is normal and my friend who is now phasing out (I’m so jealous of her orange juice drinking) was also feeling really cold. My other friend quit today…made it 2.5 days. I’m even more jealous of her, but I’m persisting. Four more days.

Although, I am going to the California Homeschool Expo next weekend, which means food on Friday night. So, I need to figure out if 2.5 days is enough time to phase back in.

The brain surgeon was called in for the third time this week, so he's spending the night on his feet in the operating room AGAIN. Poor dear.

So, I’m trying to get some organization to this blog thing, but I don’t know how that will look yet. Maybe I’ll put in a tips section now that I’ve written like 50 “How To” articles on everything from how to make a smoothie to how to groom llamas (yes, llamas). We’ll see.

I wanted to start a gratitude journal, so I thought I’d just do it on here. My goal is to list five things a day that I’m grateful for, so here goes. These are NOT in order of importance.

1. I’m grateful that my three beautiful babies are healthy, happy, intelligent and funny…and that they smell like warm laundry most of the time (except for when they smell like poop or vomit, which is a fair amount of the time).
2. I’m grateful for my fabulous husband…that he is kind, whip-smart, funny, athletic, father of the millennium and more and I'm grateful that I miss him, because that means I still think he's hot.
3. I’m grateful for my mother, who is always 100% there for me and always supportive, loving and kind (also, I worry less because she does enough worrying for 10 of me).
4. I’m grateful for my family, in all directions (up, down and sideways).
5. I'm grateful for free parking. I pulled up to the 3-hour meter today at the soccer field and there was already 2 hours and 20 minutes paid. Yippee! (The best part is the meters don’t start until 9 and it was only 9:15).

There are so many things, it is hard to stop at five. I think I'm going to try to make them more specific (rather than like, kids, husband, health, family, job, weather or whatever). We'll see.

Oh, and speaking of stinky kids…My two favorite little kid stories at the moment are: “I Love You, Stinky Face” and “My Monster Mama Loves Me So.”

Okay, I’d have hot chocolate (vegan, of course), but I can’t, so I’m going to go crawl under 10 blankets now.

Toodles.

Life and then Death (Guinea Pig Gas Chamber Addendum)

First, I made it through DAY FIVE (that's halfway, folks!) of the Master Cleanse. I really cannot believe I haven't eaten any food in that long. It's actually quite insane. I made the mistake of telling one of my clients (who happens to be a GI doc) about what I'm doing and he definitely implied that I'm insane. I told him I wasn't doing it because I thought it was healthy in the nutritional sense (although I do believe some fasting can be healthy) and that I was doing it to see if I could do it. Okay, so I sound even more insane.

I was definitely thinking about food again today. DEF IN IT ELY. That looks funny with spaces.

And although I didn't do this to lose weight, I definitely feel skinnier. DEF I NITE LY. I moved the spaces just because I'm weird.

Onto the next thing.

Today's hectic moment was when I took the kids to camp (very late today) at 2:00 p.m. I was proud of myself for remembering to bring in photos for "Share Your Family Photos Day." I was about to take the baby and run when I realized that there were an awful lot of parents hanging around. They have a open door policy for parents (which I absolutely require for anything my children attend without me), but there were a lot more parents than usual.

And then it hit me.

Ahhhh! It's swim day and I don't have anything with me! That's if you don't count the three kids, the snacks, the diapers, the changes of clothes, the water and so on. So I run the two younger kids (because my boy wasn't ready to separate yet) back to the car, back to the house, up the stairs to grab the suits and sunscreen. Back out of the house, back down the stairs, back to the car.

Oops! No towels. Back up the stairs, back into the house, la la la la la.

So, we finally get back to camp and guess what? Both kids are crashed in their carseats. This would be fine, except I've got the eldest's swimsuit and towel and I'm supposed to supervise.

I decided to call because I figured one of the counselors (they all feel sorry for me, I think) could come grab the swimsuit and towel and watch her for a bit so she could swim with her friends. But they've already gone to the pool.

The dilemma...make my eldest sit by the side of the pool while all her friends swim so the younger two can nap or carry the younger two, plus the huge bag of swimsuits and towels, in.

I went for the latter. Luckily, my little boy woke up shortly into the adventure and walked (carrying two sleeping children -- though I do it frequently -- is really, really hard), but my baby slept all the way to the pool and throughout the changing process.

Then we all had fun swimming together.

Okay, so onto the guinea pig gas chamber confession addendum. I left out a few things when I first posted about it. First, Marlowe was a well-loved, well-cared for, adorable guinea pig. He had a throne in the central part of his family's house. He wasn't neglected. The cause of paralysis was unknown.

Second, my friend could not find anyone to help her with him on the Friday night when she discovered the abscesses on his paralyzed little legs. Not her vet, not the local all-night clinic...no one. He was shaking and suffering. The decision to attempt home euthanasia was not one she took lightly.

Okay, that's it for the disclaimers.

Now, enough time has passed that I can write some of the funny stuff. Although we were crying and desperately searching for a way to put Marlowe out of his misery (her in person; me via telephone), I'm sure it was a movie-worthy moment. In fact, maybe I'll throw it into a screenplay. Thelma and Louise -- both vegetarian -- trying to kill a beloved guinea pig.

Second, that dang guinea pig just wouldn't die. I mean, come on folks! A major dose of codeine followed by over an hour in a gas chamber (although I do use that term loosely) breathing in CO2 and HE DIDN'T -- no HE WOULDN'T -- die.

Imagine my friend later, driving over an hour away in L.A. on a Friday night to find a vet that takes small animals...dragging herself and Marlowe with his cough syrup stained fur into the place. It was obvious that euthanasia at home was attempted. Terribly obvious.

She felt guilty. She looked guilty.

And apparently, she looked really, really sad, because after going over the burial options ("Um, that's okay. You can cremate him."), they pulled out the big guns.

"Would you like us to call in a grief counselor?"

This was precisely the moment of comic relief my distraught friend so desperately needed, but it came at precisely the wrong time. She should have earned an academy award for keeping a straight face.

The next morning, I told my mother the whole story (I was still somber from the experience) and the poor woman -- who really was trying to be sympathetic with our plight -- could not contain herself.

She just burst out laughing.

Toodles!

So Clean!

It’s the 4th day of my Master Cleanse and today was really easy. I wasn't really hungry at all and I didn't really have any cravings. I did my maple syrup splurge again and loved every drop. I’d love for someone to comment and tell me if this is “wrong” for some reason.

I’m over halfway through my first run of A New Earth. I listen to some parts repeatedly, hoping it will all sink in. Oh, if I could only be present all the time.

Still, I’ve been practicing and I feel like I’m getting better at staying in the now.

Okay, so this is a real conversation with my children today after my 3.25-year-old boy had his first bite of meat during his first week of camp with his sister.

Older sister: “And it was meat pepperoni, not veggie pepperoni! From a cow!”

Me: “I think it’s from a pig, but maybe it’s a cow. Maybe both. I can’t remember.”

Son: “I think it’s from a pig. They put spices up his butt and then they chopped him up and made him into flat circles and then I put him on a pizza and they put it in the microwave and I ate it!”

Me: “So, how was it?”

Son: “Kinda spicy.”

Where my little love got this unique, albeit not far off, understanding of the pepperoni manufacturing process is beyond me. I almost peed my lemon-maple-syrup-cayenne peppered self.

Here’s today’s schedule for those who wrote and said they liked reading about the crazy logistics of my life.

5-something a.m.
The brain surgeon left for work

6:00 a.m.
I get up to finish writing and submitting the morning pharma news.

6:01 a.m.
All three kids wake up (I was in bed with them), so I plop them in front of the television. My 20-month-old says, “Hi-5!” and I feel like a loser because she is already requesting specific shows. I then realize the unschoolers would think I'm a loser because she doesn't already know how to operate the remote.

6:30 a.m.
Feel guilty and make breakfast. Also feel weak, so I down a glass of Master Cleanse concoction.

7:00 a.m.
Nanny arrives early on Wednesdays. Shut “office” door and focus on the news.

8:00 a.m.
Finish news. Head in to shower. Decide there’s no time if I want to play with the little ones for a bit, so skip it (pee-ew). Get oldest ready for soccer camp. It’s Wacky Wednesday and we planned her whole backwards outfit, kooky ponytails and face painting, but now she just wants to dress in soccer gear. Now where did I put the dirty uniforms?

8:30 a.m.
Kiss babies goodbye, which makes them scream hysterically. Head back in to lift their spirits and to remind them to wave from the balcony. For my boy, this requires me saying, “Whatever you do, don’t let Hulk wave to me from the balcony. I’ll be scared all day!” Smiling, my children run with Carmen and the Incredible Hulk to the balcony and all is well.

9:05 a.m.
Late to soccer camp again! At least their still doing the “hello” song this time. Run my camper in and then try to find some parking in Godforsaken Beverly Hills so I can get some work done.

9:21 a.m.
I park across the street in the tennis club parking structure. I know the exact time because I was watching my parking ticket like a hawk. Work in my car for 1 hour and 53 minutes (with a pee break, thank you MC), because they only have free parking for an hour and I’m cheap. And this is why I bought a car with AC plugs.

11:30 a.m.
Park next to the soccer field and watch my dear daughter play. The next half hour is crucial, because I’ve got to pick her up at 12, conduct a phone interview at 12 and avoid a parking ticket in the 1-hour zone. Who says motherhood doesn’t involve strategic planning? I’m frequently in two places at once.

11:56 a.m.
A space opens up ahead of me on the curb, so I move into it, just in case that cop I saw already marked me.

11:58 a.m.
Run to get my daughter, engaging in the barest of chitchat with the coach and another mom. “Thanks, bye!” Cross the park to community center where I can conduct interview while my laptop stays plugged into an outlet and watch my daughter play on the monkey bars at the same time.

12:04 p.m.
All set up and ready to go, but the doctor I’m interviewing for a deadline today does not answer. Decide to work on some how-to articles I’ve been assigned and try him again in a few minutes. Get an email that my ghostwriting book project that has been on hold is back in action and I have to get it written NOW! Um, okay. Peek at FaceBook and update my status.

12:30 p.m.
Give up and call doctor’s colleague while sudden burst of random children begin to shout incessantly in the community center. Can I mute and leave a message at the same time? I’ve got about 25 minutes until I have to hit the car. Just before I hit the 1-hour-parking deadline, I give up and email my interview questions to both of the review authors I’m interviewing, grab my daughter, model a bad jaywalking habit, and strap her into her 5-point-harness booster seat, even though my friends make fun of me.

12:45 p.m.
Home for lunch with the kids. Nurse the baby. Change my daughter out of her soccer clothes. My son wants to play with his friend a bit longer, so we decide to go to their afternoon camp activity late. We hang out and relax a bit. Nanny goes home.

2:30 p.m.
Take the older kids to their other summer camp, where said carnivorous pizza incident occurred. My little boy looks tired and so I contemplate taking him home for a nap, but he says he wants to stay. It’s his only official activity this summer and first real camp. Still, I feel like I barely saw him yet today. This must be what it's like for school parents.

3:00 p.m.
Home and the baby naps! Woohoo! This only happens like once a week and I contemplate watching some mindless drivel, but have piles of work to do so I buckle down.

4:45 p.m.
Poor baby! I have to wake her up to go get the other two from camp. She’s not happy. I nurse her while walking to the car, which involves two flights of stairs. I live in a liberal, predominantly gay neighborhood, so no one notices the baby stuck to my boob. By the time I get to the minivan, she’s happy to hop in her seat.

5:00 p.m.
Pick up kids. On time, because its 10 bucks if I'm late (is that per kid?). Play at park for a half-hour because I’m in a meter and that’s how much change I put in (kinda on purpose due to park burnout).

5:45 p.m.
Make dinner. Feed overtired, cranky kids and clean up the kitchen and livingroom while they eat (plug for FlyLady!). Gawk at them anyway because with summer camp, I feel like I barely see them!

6:15 p.m.
Hooray! The brain surgeon is home early tonight. We tag team the baths and showers. Clean the bathrooms while the kids are in there (another FlyLady plug). The brain surgeon fends for himself for dinner, as he does on most nights. I feel moderately guilty about this, but with his unpredictable schedule and absolute hatred of leftovers, I’m not sure I should, but I do.

7:00 p.m.
Brush kids’ teeth and the five of us hop into bed for a very chaotic and cuddly story time while the brain surgeon turns totally innocuous storybook lines into come-hither innuendos. We flirt while I read the Disney Princess Look and Find and the Kit Kittredge movie book, which we enter into their library log (prizes for doing what we do already? That rocks!). Then I read 12 chapters of Captain Underpants before I decided I can no longer take my children’s overtired insanity. The older two were out in less than 10 minutes, but the baby was on crack or something. She pulled her sleeping brother’s hair at one point and dropped a sippy cup on her sister’s nose at another. Her sister burst into tears and passes back out.

8:58 p.m.
Interrupt brain surgeon’s channel surfing and have him finish putting the baby to sleep.

9:00 p.m.
Enjoy a tablespoon of maple syrup (pathetic, isn’t it?) and then get back to writing how-tos and reviewing info for the book I’m ghostwriting.

11:00 p.m.
Blog! Check my FaceBook page and chat with my long lost friend (Cheers to you!).

11:45 p.m.
Whoops. A long blog. Finish it and hit the hay.

Hey, that’s living! It's a beautiful life!

Toodles!

I Licked the Spoon and it was Divine!

I’m looking for tomorrow’s news for FiercePharma, which is always very interesting. Sometimes when I'm researching for the news, I get sidetracked by the stories. Other times, I get the urge to blog. Like now.

The brain surgeon also is having me edit some things for his M&M tomorrow. My wifely duties are never done, but I’m happy to perform.

So, what day am I on with the Master Cleanse? Day 3. That’s right.

DAY THREE: First, it is true that the urge to eat has mostly subsided. I find this peculiar and interesting. Second, the little trick I heard about was to lick the spoon after you’ve put in the rest of the maple syrup for a little sweet treat. I’m not much into maple syrup so on day 1, I didn’t bother. On day 2, however, this woman became desperate for a little variety. I licked the spoon and dare I say, it was divine.

As a result, I went truly wild today. Since I don’t particularly like the sweetness of the Master Cleanse concoction, I had watered it down the first two days and even went down to 11 tablespoons of maple syrup rather than 14.

Today, I had a brilliant thought: What if I just had the whole, entire, divine, delicious spoonful of maple syrup at once. If I subtracted some from the concoction anyway, what difference would it make? So, I did it and OMG it was a little spoon of heaven. Truly!

Oops, I did it again. I was fixing the kids lunch between soccer camp and park camp and I thought, “Well, I did skip 3 tablespoons of maple syrup, so having another one won’t hurt!” Yum…another spoonful of joy.

Now is the time when those late-night munchies start to hit. I figure, I’ve got a lovin’ spoonful left.

Unless someone gives me a reason to skip it between when I finish typing and when I reach the refrigerator, DAY THREE of the Master Cleanse will be the day of the maple syrup shots.

Toodles!

Hopeless Signer-Upper

Everyone calls me a signer-upper. I’ve always been one. I was the kid who’d read through the community center and church bulletins to look for all the classes offered for children each session. It’s even how I learned to break-dance (totally true).

That probably makes me a “good” homeschooler, since I’m pretty adept at scouring every possible publication for every possible kid-friendly activity and class in town. I present these to the kids as options and we end up horribly overscheduled most of the time.

That is just part of my personality, I suppose. The brain surgeon suffers from the same malady.

I’m sort of a vicarious signer-upper at the moment, because as most mothers will tell you, there is little time for pursuing one’s non-familial interests when the kiddies are under 5. So I’ve just became a signer-upper in another way.

Oh, Master Cleanse.

I really haven’t even figured out why I’ve decided to do this. One of my best friends mentioned she was doing it. I said, “have fun” and tried to forget about it. Of course, the “me too!” in me just couldn’t resist thinking about it. I don’t even really “believe” in the Master Cleanse. I do think fasting is great, though I’ve never done it for more than a day. I have been meaning to read Joel Fuhrman’s book on it (Fuhrman is not a fan of the Master Cleanse, by the way).

Anyway, to do this, you mix 14 tablespoons of fresh squeezed lemon juice (I squeeze it every morning), 14 tablespoons of maple syrup and ¼ teaspoon of cayenne pepper into 2 liters of water and drink that all day.

Some people also drink a cup of Senna tea in the morning and at night or drink (chug, gag down, whatever) a saltwater solution (2 teaspoons of saltwater in 32 ounces of warm water) in place of one cup of the tea.

Sounds a little bulimic to me.

DAY ZERO: I didn’t do the ease in thing, since I eat a mostly vegan diet, but I did the saltwater thing the night before I started the drink thing. The brain surgeon – with all of his surgical concerns about sodium balance – probably would have freaked out on me if he knew I ingested a bunch of salt for no real reason. Plus, I usually try to eat a low sodium diet (we don’t cook with it and we buy low sodium tomato sauce, etc.), so it’s really out of character. And salty!

I’ll skip the details (I’m not a girl who discusses such things), but you can check out what it says about the saltwater thing here. Trust me, it works. I’m not doing that again.

DAY ONE: I made the maple syrup concoction, which I found surprisingly tasty. It was true that I was never hungry throughout the day, but WHOA, I have NEVER EVER thought about food so much. I would have eaten the elevator I rode in if someone put chocolate sauce on it. Seriously. It seemed like everyone talked about nothing but food, everything smelled of food and food was just created to torture me.

At night, I had to do the grocery shopping for the family and that was even more difficult. Trader Joe’s is always cooking sample things. Sometimes they are meaty smelling and don’t appeal to me, but last night it was Eggplant Parmesan. Oh, the temptation. I’m usually good at avoiding cheese, but woman, did that smell good.

Then I went to Whole Foods to get the Senna Tea, since I found out one brand, aptly named Smooth Move, came in chocolate and decided it was important after all.

When I got home, the kids were still up (the brain surgeon rarely has success with bedtime, though you’ll never hear him admit it), so in the process of putting them to bed, I crashed and slept quite well.

DAY TWO: Today was much easier. I had my Senna tea this morning while driving my children to the soccer field for the first day of my eldest daughter’s soccer camp. She had her new pink and black cleats with her shin guards and her David Beckham (um, is that a shoe in there?)soccer uniform from the L.A. Galaxy charity game we went to a while back and I have to say…she was definitely the cutest kid on the field.

On the way to the next activity, it hit me: I’m breastfeeding. Should I be drinking the tea? (I had already checked on the cleanse itself, which is fine, especially since my daughter is 20 months old). An online search of several sites tonight confirmed my greatest fears…If I keep drinking the tea, my daughter might just be on the fast track to diarrhea-ville. No more chocolate tea for me.

It wasn’t really that satisfying anyway.

Plus, I’m not really obsessing about food anymore. It's weird.

More about day three (and what IS satisfying) tomorrow.

Toodles!

In Memory of Marlowe

I promised my friend that I would update my post about the Guinea Pig Gas Chamber, and I promise to do that soon, but I've been to three amusement parks (Disneyland, Knott's Berry Farm and Knott's Soak City) with four children in one week and I might just collapse from exhaustion if I don't get some sleep NOW.

So, until then, here is a photo of the VERY LOVED and WELL CARED for Marlowe, with one of his proud owners.

Awww.....wasn't he cute? And isn't his little owner even cuter? She's my murderous (only kidding) friend's daughter.

Poor little critter. Paralysis is a tough gig when you're a L.A. guinea pig.

Short, poignant posts?

Okay, maybe I'll just try for short. Poignant is a tough call.

So, the day before yesterday we were at the Grove with my brother and niece, who are visiting from Tahiti and there was a huge line outside the Mac store. We quickly figured out that the line was for the new iPhone 3G.

Okay, maybe I'm jaded. Maybe I'm no fun. Still, all I could think was, WHY? Why wait 5 hours for a stupid phone? You could get it the next day with probably no wait at all.

Never mind the fact that the new, cheaper phone actually costs more if you do the math with the contract.

So, the reason these people were waiting must have been to be "first," just like my 3- and 5-year-old children always want to be. "Me first!!!"

I wonder what this desire of grown-ups to be "first" signifies. I mean, obviously only one person was actually "first" to get the iPhone 3G and the rest were all not "first."

Here's one blogger's take of his experience at the store.

In the context of reading and listening to A New Earth, the waiting to be first had a deeper meaning to me. What is the ego's role in the urge to wait in line and be first?

An Abundant Life: Hectic and Exhausting, but Joyful!

Okay, first, this is funny. On June 25th I called my sister SO EXCITED because I was sure I had just seen Britney Spears on Melrose. Paparazzi surrounded her. She was posing and smiling for the camera. I was a few car lengths back so I could only see her from behind at first, but when I got up close, she walked around the front of her white Mercedes (just like Britney has) and opened the door right in front of my bumper. I wasn’t looking at her at that point though…I was more interested in avoiding running over the stupid paparazzi who walked right in front of my car.

Anyway, I’m all excited, telling my sister about how Britney looks so tiny and how her hair is dark and my sister is like, um, have you seen TMZ lately? I was like, TM what? Like I have time for that stuff. So she tells me Britney isn’t particularly tiny this week and she also isn’t brunette.

So, we Google “June 25 Melrose shopping” and variations thereof and find out its some reality star (Audrina Partridge) that neither of us had even heard of from The Hills. I have heard of The Hills, of course, just not this particular reality startlette (yes, I think I invented that word). Anyway, the point of this whole story is the following picture, in which you can see the front end of my minivan about two car lengths back, rear left. See it? If not, just squint a little.

My car is now an extra in a bad paparazzi photo. Isn’t fame fabulous?

Really exciting, I know. Audrina was apparently picking up her laundry. Even more exciting is this: If you don’t know who she is and you Google her to find out, like we did, you will certainly find nude pictures of Audrina Partridge (no link from me, boys! Do your own dirty work), as she isn’t a particularly modest one, it seems.

Back to me, since it’s all about me.

Really, my schedule is crazy. This is my own fault and I know it, but it is what it is. I’m still listening to A New Earth, which takes a long time when you do it in 5-minute increments. Next, I will tackle The Power of Now again (wouldn’t that be funny if Eckhart’s next book is, “The Power of Now and Again.” Like, “now and again, I feel like smacking someone.”

But seriously, I’m really enjoying A New Earth. Between FlyLady, Eckhart Tolle and Anthony Robbins, I should be ship-shape in no time!

My brother and niece are flying in from Tahiti in the morning. We are all very excited. In fact, they are on the plane right now.

So, here’s the schedule for just tomorrow:

My oldest will go to summer camp in the morning, but my sister in law will drive her since she works right next to the camp. Whew. I’ll get my 1-year-old and 3-year-old ready and then the babysitter will come. I don’t actually need her tomorrow since my brother will be her, but she relies on the paycheck and so that’s a bit of a conundrum. Anyway, I need to be in international baggage claim at 9:15 and so me and whoever wants to go with me (kids and babysitter or one kid or whatever) will go and pick up the famdamily. Then we will RUSH back to hop in the pool at 10:15 for baby swim class, which lasts 45 minutes. Then we will FLY out of the pool, into the car, and be in the camp carpool line by 11:30 a.m. to get my oldest. Then we are golden and can let my poor, jetlagged brother and niece relax.

I’ll check email here and there, but really won’t work much until tomorrow night.

Yesterday and today were equally crazy. I won’t even bother with most of yesterday, but of course, last night I was up working on a manuscript for Health Affairs (I say that as if they’ve accepted it, but they haven’t, although here is one just published…with a little help from a ghostwriter – me!). Then I had to take a break and work on the Wednesday morning news for FiercePharma (Hi guys!).

Then I got back to the Health Affairs manuscript. I decided I would finish referencing it and spruce up the graphs before I went to bed or I’d die trying. I think I died trying. I was so tired, I just crashed. Plus, I had to get up and finish the news this morning, bright and early. Then I had to get my little ones ready, shower myself (or P.U.), semi-dry my hair and then hit the L.A. 9:00 a.m. traffic hell to get to a meeting at Carat in Santa Monica. Oh, and I had to take the dog down the stairs to pee.

By the way, plug for a great new company and product I’ve been working with: Simplicity. This company is small, but the people are really great, really ethical and really excited about – okay, I’m just gonna say it – laundry and dish soap. But really, they have the only products that are non-toxic out there. Other products have no “known” toxins, but that’s just because our government always sides with business and businesses just have to pretend they don’t “know” and then they put a bunch of toxic crap into your cleaning supplies.

And if you want to know what they put in, good luck! They won’t tell you. Nope. It’s all a big mystery. That’s what I like about Simplicity. They’re telling people what is in their products. They’re all about transparency and honesty. I trust them.

The only WEE drawback is they have an exclusive with Wal-Mart now. There are some funny and interesting things I could go into here, but we’ll have to see which way the wind takes us first.

Oh Lord, where was I? Oh, so I was late to get my oldest at summer camp, but luckily, it is on the same campus where the brain surgeon and his sister work, so my sister-in-law picked up my oldest during her lunch hour. Then I picked her up at 1:30 and then headed home, grabbed the younger two and let the dog pee again, and then ran all three to the park where the older two have a different camp program. Luckily, the dual camp insanity is only three weeks long. In between all this, I’m doing hand edits on three papers I’ve got going and handling calls on my speaker phone (new hands free law!) on mute and hope and pray I can make salient comments on my conference calls without everyone hearing, “Mooooooooooooom! He hit me!!!”

I bring the baby home and get her settled and get a few more hours of work done before heading back to the park. Dog pees first, of course. And then, you know the drill…three little dinners, three little baths, about a million stories and then bedtime.

Anyway, I’m not even caught up on work yet, but I just needed to empty my brain before doing any more and this is the result.

Toodles!

To Wii or Not to Wii

This post will prove that homeschoolers are a bad influence, especially if the all-electronic-media-is-BAD information out there has influenced you.

But before I get into that: Happy 4th of July! A day or so later. Now you're onto me. I'm behind on my blog.

We went to a BBQ that we go to every year. A very nice couple and their two little girls (6 and 9) host it. They are both Ph.D. researchers in the brain lab, where the brain surgeon does a fair share of his research. Some of the other brain surgeons occasionally attend and the sister-in-law of the wife-half is married to a neurologist as well. So it’s a brainy good time.

We always start with the whole party at the Pacific Palisades parade put on by the Palisades Americanism Parade Association (um, mouthful), which is usually a mix of so-so bands, drill teams and a few odd groups (usually some religious groups and a few community groups). My favorites are these elderly guys (I think they are called the Oompahs or something similar) who come out in short-sleeved white button downs, white boxers and black socks with what I now affectionately call “sock-spenders,” which are like little elastics on the tops of the socks that hold them up, except that they don’t always hold them up. This time they did a little drill-team-type routine. It rocked!!!

I was thinking that maybe Holly Madison on the Girls Next Door could incorporate this particular fashion option on the show along with her tube socks. Wouldn’t that be so HOT? Sex-kitten sock-spenders!!!

Just the other day, I wrote about buying real suspenders. Is this a sign from God herself? Am I supposed to buy things that suspend? Should I go into the suspending business? What does it all mean?

Oops. I digressed.

Anyhoo, after the parade, we headed to the house. We all played and ate (veggie BBQ options) endlessly until it got dark and then we watched the fireworks. They have quite a spectacular view of the fireworks from their backyard.

This time, they had a new karaoke machine and my two oldest (3 and 5) impressed everyone with their fabulous singing and the fact that they knew most of the High School Musical soundtrack, which they had memorized from listening to it in the car.

Yes, I know the truth is they might have annoyed everyone, but that’s what they get for pretending to be impressed and egging the little darlings on.

How the foray into High School Musical happened might be fodder for another post, but there it is.

Anyway, wow, I’ve REALLY digressed. I’m writing about Wii.

So, we’re going to the California Homeschool Network homeschool conference next month and random people keep mentioning this Guitar Hero competition that will happen there. I’ve been sort of ignoring this on the updates, but then they sent out a list of rehearsal songs and said they were opening a category for 5 to 7 year olds and I thought my daughter might like to do that.

So I Googled Guitar Hero and became instantly overwhelmed.

I’m apparently the last person in the entire universe to know this, but you can’t just buy Guitar Hero. You have to buy a system to play it on.

Okay, so I’ll just buy the system, I thought. But, no. It cannot be that simple. Of course, you can play it on more than one system.

So, I’m a research freak and the research began. I searched online. I asked people I know. Most of them are in the same (should I just say it?) parenting elitist intellectual Southern California crowd that I’m apparently in and had the “Oh, no, we don’t do much media. We really would rather go out and really live life,” attitude. Yes, someone actually said those exact words.

But, I’m also very influenced by the radical unschooler crowd (though I’ve said before and I’ll say again: They can be quite rude and superior themselves), which is more in the “Everything Bad is Good For You” camp. As a result, I’ve been opening my mind a bit more about media types, media limits and how so many studies apply to kids in the traditional public school or private school settings rather than my kids.

We did unschool the television, for example. We just started letting them watch as much as they wanted instead of having some predetermined amount of TV time set. I had been anal about a one-hour-a-day limit. Well, guess what. They almost never watched a full hour of television before we took the limit off and they still don’t. So limiting versus not limiting didn’t seem to make a difference and not limiting sure seems easier.

Okay, back to gaming. Our experience thus far is this. First, my daughter received a Leapster L-Max gaming system handheld thing as a gift about a year ago and didn’t really get into it. I planned to limit it, but never had to. Next, my children received a V.Smile system for Christmas this year. Again, I thought I’d have to limit it, but didn’t have to.

What do I mean by that? Well, my daughter never played on the Leapster for more than about an hour or two per week. My daughter and son play the V.Smile together occasionally, maybe once a week for about one half-hour.

Really. That’s it. I think they have so many things to do, that these things are just options to them, like any other option, just like the radical unschoolers (not all unschoolers) say. I find that fascinating. I’m not sure that this would be the case if we purchased the Wii, because it looks about a thousand times more entertaining than the Leapster or V.Smile, but we’ll see.

Anyway, I very quickly decided that the Wii was the system I’d prefer, due to all of its AI and virtual reality features. You can play as a family and there are so many get-off-your-butt games. Plus, and I personally want Wii Fit, too. That looks super cool and I so need the exercise!

The brain surgeon admitted that all he knew of the current gaming world was Halo and that he would like to have it (yes, dear, even though it is a bloody shoot-em-up game), but Halo doesn’t come on Wii.

I’m trying to be open, supportive and not controlling. I’m all about natural limits. That’s a natural limit, right?

Okay, but really, that Wii thing has so many fun things to do. I realized that I want more than just Guitar Hero and Wii Fit. I also want Rock Band and Dance Revolution, which, if anything like the arcade version, is a workout like no other: Check out this kid!



I'd also want Endless Ocean, Big Brain Academy: Wii Degree (will it make us smarter?), and my children would likely love the High School Musical one with the microphone. My daughter would also likely enjoy the Hannah Montana game, even though she doesn’t really know who that is yet. She loves to sing and dance. Oh and my mom would love a car racing one. There’s well over a hundred games. I’m so tempted.

Of course, this all comes with a hefty price tag and sort of goes against my current drive to be frugal based on the fact that as a freelancer, I choose projects based on how many hours I need to work and more spending = more projects = less time devoted to my quickly-growing children.
Plus, when would I have time to play these games? It’s a tough call.

So for now, I’ll keep asking around and doing the research. I’ll consult my family and friends. I don’t think I’ll run out and buy a Wii or Guitar Hero or any of it for now, but if we receive one as a gift (and now that I’ve mentioned it to my mother, we probably will), you probably won’t see me in the return line, either.

Toodles!

Guinea Pig Gas Chamber Confession

This is a tragic tale. Especially when an almost-vegan has to tell it.

Catharsis. Confessions. Carma.

I mean, Karma.

So a while ago my friend told me her guinea pig had become paralyzed and jokingly (I truly believed) asked if I knew how to kill a guinea pig at home. I jokingly (truly) told her that one time at a party at my then boyfriend’s house (who happened to be everyone’s boyfriend, it turned out), we put beer in his hamster’s water thingy. We all thought this was enormously funny.

As an aside, high school keg parties are just one example of my good-girl Maranatha Christian Academy upbringing shining thorough! I still love MCA, though. :)

Anyway, either by coincidence or by hamstercide, whatever-its-name-was turned up D-E-A-D the next morning.

Oops.

So, I jokingly told this story to my friend with the paralyzed guinea pig, adding that she could probably give it a happy send off with some valium and whiskey, and then I forgot about it.

Well, later that night, she calls me in a sheer panic.

She took Marlowe (who shall not remain nameless) out of his cage and he had ulcers all over his little paralyzed legs, so she had given the unfortunate little fellow a bunch of her daughter’s codeine-laced cough syrup. She was trying to humanely kill him and relieve his pain, but he didn’t die, and now she was panicked and crying and calling me to find out how much would do it.

Okay, I’m scientifically minded and have more pharmacodynamic and pharmacokinetic information in my head than I’d care to admit, but I have no idea how to calculate the lethal dose of children’s codeine-laced cough syrup for a guinea pig.

So, I said, “I dunno, just give him more, I guess?”

But apparently, Marlowe was so high that he couldn’t take another sip.

(As an aside, her vet doesn’t take small animals and neither would any of the emergency vets in our vicinity).

I didn’t know what to do to help her, so I Googled, “euthanasia small animals” and found this on the Internet.

To make a long story short, she didn’t have tubing or this or that, so she tried the dreaded “Friday night method” with me reading the instructions to her over the phone. She only had a smallish bottle of vinegar and whatever baking soda was in her fridge, but she was too upset to go to the store.

In other words, she set to work on the ghastly deed quite poorly equipped. I told her to check in 45 minutes and to call me when it was done.

Just for the record, we were both in tears. Her other good friend was calling in between with her suggestions, which included things like: “Oh, for heaven's sake, just hit him over the head with a hammer!” and “Stick him behind your back tire and put it in reverse, but put him in a shoebox first so he doesn’t mess up the car.”

Anyway, fast-forward an hour. It’s nearly 11:00 pm and my friend calls me with the news.

“He’s not dead.”

What?

Ultimately, Marlowe survived a highly drugged and sedated attempted murder, followed by successful euthanasia across the county at an emergency vet that agreed to see him late that night.

Later I realized that the codeine likely slowed down his metabolic rate to such an extent as to protect him from the effects of the homemade carbon dioxide chamber.

This happened the day before our road trip. On the road, a cute little rabbit leapt into the road in the middle of nowhere while the brain surgeon was driving 70 miles per hour. He yelled, “Bunny!” and then I heard the dreaded thud, followed by my 5-year-old saying, “What bunny?”

I cried again.

Later, a bat hit us.

Everything happens in threes.

Toodles.

Happy Independence from Spanking Day!

I said I would write about the Biblical spanking debate so here goes.

FYI, I’m not a religious person, per se. I can’t do organized religion because I’ve never found a church that wasn’t filled with mean people. However, I’ve got years of religious training under my belt and I do know my way around the Bible, so I had to pull out some scriptures when the fanatics and I had a discussion.

I’m definitely not speaking for God. I might be into unschooling God or unchurching perhaps, though maybe I’m a Universalist Unitarian. I like the community aspect of the church experience. That’s it for the disclaimers.

I also love this anti-spanking site. He goes head-to-head with the pro-hitters (and there are a lot of them!)

So, I’ve never seen the word “spank” in any Bible I’ve ever read. Have you? I have never seen instruction that says to hit the child in the Bible, although I’ve seen some really nutty interpretations online and in books. The references I’ve read are the “spare the rod” and other guidance passages, which I believe have nothing to do with hitting children.

If people insist on using the Bible as their excuse for hitting kids, why can’t any of them pull out a Bible passage that INDUBITABLY says to hit a child?

Well, because it does not exist.

Okay, and to really throw a wrench in things, here are some scriptures from the King James version. Here, if we want to be literal, no “pop” on the rear will do…

Proverb 23:13 Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die.

Proverb 23:14 Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell.

So, if we take it literally, we MUST BEAT our children with THE ROD - and no worries, he will not die. Besides, if you don’t BEAT them with THE ROD, they’ll go to hell, and we certainly don’t want to add hellfire and damnation to indiscretions like touching the stove or saying “no” to mama.

If we view the Bible in parables and the rod as the wooden rod sheepherders used or as the rod being that in the scroll the pages were originally on (insert “train them up by the Word of God”), however, there is room for loving guidance that doesn’t require hitting. I think some people CHOOSE to interpret it differently because they PREFER to hit - either it is “comfortable” to them because they grew up with it (and children who were hit tend to enter into the same patterns) or it is less work for them.

Someone also implied Jesus used “situational” violence when necessary. WHAT? They had the one typical and lame example of Jesus in the temple, so I had to pull out some more scriptures. No, I don’t have 20 versions of the Bible in my house. You’ve gotta love the Internet.

Let’s all read these and ponder this: Might Jesus have made the whip thingy in case He would need it for self defense? Might He have made it as a sort of leash to lead out the oxen and sheep? Were the cords assembled to tie up the oxen? You’ll note, it doesn’t even say Jesus hit oxen.

New American Standard Bible (©1995)
And He made a scourge of cords, and drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and the oxen; and He poured out the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables;

King James Bible
And when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers’ money, and overthrew the tables;

American King James Version
And when he had made a whip of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers’ money, and overthrew the tables;

American Standard Version
and he made a scourge of cords, and cast all out of the temple, both the sheep and the oxen; and he poured out the changers money, and overthrew their tables;

Bible in Basic English
And he made a whip of small cords and put them all out of the Temple, with the sheep and the oxen, sending in all directions the small money of the changers and overturning their tables;

Douay-Rheims Bible
And when he had made, as it were, a scourge of little cords, he drove them all out of the temple, the sheep also and the oxen, and the money of the changers he poured out, and the tables he overthrew.

Darby Bible Translation
and, having made a scourge of cords, he cast them all out of the temple, both the sheep and the oxen; and he poured out the change of the money-changers, and overturned the tables,

English Revised Version
and he made a scourge of cords, and cast all out of the temple, both the sheep and the oxen; and he poured out the changers’ money, and overthrew their tables;

GOD’S WORD® Translation (©1995)
He made a whip from small ropes and threw everyone with their sheep and cattle out of the temple courtyard. He dumped the moneychangers’ coins and knocked over their tables.

Weymouth New Testament
So He plaited a whip of rushes, and drove all–both sheep and bullocks–out of the Temple. The small coin of the brokers He upset on the ground and overturned their tables.

Webster’s Bible Translation
And when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers’ money, and overthrew the tables;

World English Bible
He made a whip of cords, and threw all out of the temple, both the sheep and the oxen; and he poured out the changers’ money, and overthrew their tables.

Young’s Literal Translation
and having made a whip of small cords, he put all forth out of the temple, also the sheep, and the oxen; and of the money-changers he poured out the coins, and the tables he overthrew.

Nowhere does any of that say Jesus was violent. If Jesus hit or beat anyone, why doesn’t the book of John (or any book) say so?

Note also that the translation (whip, cord, scourge, etc.) is not consistent.

He did clearly overturn some tables. If we are really desperate to prove Jesus was violent, I suppose that could fit, but He might have turned them over gently, too.

I’m still waiting for someone to show me anywhere in any Bible where Jesus hit anyone, particularly children.

That’s it on spanking, for now.

Toodles!

Sybil -- Enlightened or Bitchy, or Both?

Well, my writing class ended and I’m quite glad. I met a few people I enjoyed there and did receive some great handouts, but the useless time sucking factor was major.

Here’s an email I sent to my posse of missing classmates on my last day of official attendance:

Dear Ditchers,

Tonight was TV sitcom night. You missed the reading of a 59-page (no, I'm not exaggerating) "Rosanne" script read by SpyBlond doing her best Rosanne impersonation.

One word: Excruciating. I got all itchy just sitting there.

Despite numerous attempt by the instructor to "please read faster," SpyBlond faithfully held to her perception of the role, complete with screechy and drawn-out Rosanne whine, steadfast was she in her acting moment.

Finally, even the instructor had to cut the impersonation short...and only 45 minutes into it. No idea now what happened in Act III.

So bored was I that I snapped the attached photo of what could be the most hideous pair of shoes ever to land on toes. View them with envy, fellow fashionistas.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1...Who knew they made platform suede lime green clogs?

So, that was my last class. I have handouts for all of you. Everyone looked at me oddly when I asked for 5. If anyone makes it to the last two classes (I believe one week will be on the one-hour drama and the other will be on marketing), please grab handouts for the rest.

And then we'll drink. :)

Alright, by posting my email publicly, as well as the accompanying photo taken on my under the desk with my cell phone, I’m sure I’m categorizing myself as a major b-word, but really, it was all in fun.

I almost got my ass kicked because I made fun of some girl's day-glow lime-green shoes at a Simple Minds concert in the 80s. You’d think I’d learn not to make fun of blond girls in green shoes.

But I cannot. Please blond girls everywhere: Stop the senseless donning of lime green shoes!!!

On that catty and contradictory note (I’m so Sybil sometimes!), I’m halfway through Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth, which I love. The brain surgeon and I started listening to the audio version on our road trip and it makes so much sense to both of us.

Not that we could apply all that philosophical mizymaz to real life, but I’m trying. I’m also listening to certain parts over and over again in the hopes that Eckhart’s soothing voice will brainwash me.

I especially love what he says about parenthood. One line in particular was something like, “Just because you are bigger and temporarily know more than your child does not mean you are not his or her equal.” That is not an exact quote, but this thinking really aligns with some of what I’ve enjoyed about Scott Noelle’s Daily Groove (all parents should subscribe to this free email) and some of what resonates with me when I read about radical unschoolers (even though many of them are oddly rude, but that’s another topic).

There is a lack of respect and trust for children in our society that is pervasive and disheartening. It’s part of the overlying power-over mentality that seems to permeate everything. More and more, I believe massive changes happen first within the heart and then within the home. And they probably don't involve making fun of people's shoes.

Toodles.

Road Trippin!

So, I thought no one was reading the BSB blog until three people asked me why I hadn’t been updating it. Three readers in one week – I’m flabbergasted! I thought I’d give it an acronym on account of how incredibly popular it has become now that three of you read it. The “BSB blog.” Yah, I can dig it.

I even received a comment from someone I don't even know about how I ramble. That rocks! I'm a ramblin' (wo)man! Thanks, Euthymic!

By the way, I know few people who know what euthymic means and I just LOVE that she named her blog that!

It has been an eventful period. We drove to Sacramento and Idaho and then returned via Reno, only because the brain surgeon’s dad gave us a coupon for a resort there, but it turned out to be surprisingly fun for the kids. I’m not sure if we have a knack for road trips, but we did quite well with our three little ones in the MV. The trip made me appreciate my family AND my MV, which I still say is the best in its class. No, I don’t work for Toyota.

First, we briefly (and I mean BRIEFLY) visited my gorgeous cousin and her new baby in the postpartum neurotic phase at a stifling 110-degree park in Sacramento. No one came within 10 feet of that baby and we stayed at the park (plenty of germ-free air circulating so the baby wouldn’t catch the plague) – so very obviously NOT invited to bring our three little germlettes to her abode. I’m looking forward to laughing about the whole thing with my lovely cousin, who is one of my favorite people in the whole world, once her hormones get back to normal.

Then we went to Idaho, which we were both dreading, but which ended up being a perfect fun-filled time with waterskiing, inner tubing, horseback riding, ranch-handing and general fun stuff. The only little downfall was a forced trip to some ghastly hunting store to buy red suspenders for my father-in-law’s Father’s Day gift. No, I didn’t think of that myself. Who wears these?

I used to ask, “Who buys these?” too, but now I know the answer – me!

The place was like a cemetery with open wall graves displaying dead animals. Yuck. I agreed to the purchase in my attempt to be Zen and let things go, but I still haven’t let it go.

Yes, Eckhart, just flap my duck wings, I know.

On the way back, we hit Reno. The resort happened to have all sorts of fun things to do. My children won 800 tickets with just $20 dollars of tokens in their family fun center. I’ve never seen so many tickets. My eldest cried when we left, because “there is no place like this by our house!” I said, actually there is and it’s called Chuck-E-Cheese, and that it’s skeezy, but we could go (Please God, I hope they sell salad). The kids also enjoyed a round of aqua-golf and a few rounds of bowling (are they called rounds?) with their dad while I went to a $3.00 movie by myself. I saw BabyMama, which had amusing moments, but was rather predictable. I got excited when they mentioned the perils of HFCS and how unhealthy it is, which proves what a loser I am. We swam (they had very cool cabanas that I didn't get to enjoy). We ate. We had general fun.

Oh, and some guy in the Starbucks came up to me and said I look like Alanis Morissette while I was writing the Wednesday drug news. He said it was my eyes. I've had a lot of you-look-likes, but that one was just bizarre. By the way, if you're a Starbucks fan (the brain surgeon is, but I'm partial to the Coffee Bean, which is clearly superior), they just announched they're shutting 600 U.S. stores. Is this the beginning of the death of the coffee boom era or just another sign of our crashing economy?

Now we’re back in the daily grind and the brain surgeon is back to slicing heads open in the giant red-tape bureaucracy that he calls work. I just finished writing the Wednesday drug news again and I’m off to finish some editing before enjoying a little R&R with my babies.

Toodles!