Juggling Life

San Diego Blog Bitches Hit The Town

Wednesday night six of the hottest, funniest, bloggingest beyotches in the Greater San Diego area got together for dinner and a drink drinks. How did it go? I don't think it's every night that P. F. Changs has people standing on their chairs. Or that the Embassy Suites bar has requests for invented drinks. Since this girl

posted the bitchingest recap ever, head over to her place for the roll-call and the low-down. Ignore my hideous photo and the fact that I forgot the cardinal rule of picture taking for those over 35--extend your neck!

A sampling of what we talked about (including, but not limited to):

Past-life regresssion

Biodiversity vineyards

The edibility of babies

Mrs. G

Penis piercings

Jeff and Jer

Catholic education

Raising children in San Diego

Bossy

Anaphylactic shock as a bonding tool.

Writing (this shocks you?)

Books

The immediate kinship a group of bloggers feel

Kate's new guy

   Yum, dessert!

The new bitch on the block puts on a show!

                     Is this a group of bitches that know how to shoe shop or what?!

                Do you think Bossy has any idea what she started?!

Realtor Caravan: Mrs. G's Open House

Mrs. G has put out a call to her legions of loyal readers--share the heart of your house with me. What  a grand idea. In fact, most of my (Almost) Wordless Wednesdays have featured things I love in my house, many of them inherited from my mother.

I have always taken my job as a "homemaker" seriously, and I love the home I've created for my family. Everything has been done on a budget, and eclectic is definitely my decorating scheme. Of course it's a work in progress. It's definitely a labor of love.

We began our house search with a list of our priorities. I found a house that fulfilled everything on the list that was non-house related (cul-de-sac, canyon location, walking distance to swim club/grocery store, specific school we desired). The one thing that wasn't that great was the actual house. Ever the visionary, I realized the house is the only thing on the list you can change.

And change we did. Over the course of 2 major remodels we took an 1100 square foot house on pie-shaped cul-de-sac lot to 2600 square feet. It was easy-peasy. Actually, it was a nightmare that I've conveniently blocked. You know how childbirth wasn't that painful in retrospect? It's a lot like that.

 

                Now for the tour . . . Let's step into the foyer.

Like Mary Alice, this dresser is where I store my table linens. Also, thank you cards and art supplies.

 

              Can you tell I'm into displaying my family photos?

Formal living room what? How about we put a pool table in there instead? Did I mention that I love natural light. Window coverings why?

The kitchen/great room is truly my vision. If I'm in the kitchen, I'm still in the thick of things. I have the perfect work triangle.

Please, sit at the bar and have a glass of wine while I finish dinner.

Yes, it's a big couch. Then again, we are a large (in quantity, not necessarily bulk) family!

          Formal dining room, why? Let's just eat in the great room!

    Separate office/computer room? No, then we wouldn't be together!

Spend a fortune on bookcases? Not after I found these on clearance for $10.00 each. Yeah, baby--10 bucks apiece! On my wish list? New wooden frames for all my photos, adding more, and rehanging them. What's stopping me? A little thing called sending 3 more kids to college in the next 4 years, starting NOW.

To me a house just wouldn't be a home without an animal or two (or four or five if you want to include the cats and the snake).

                       Controlled chaos--the "staging area."

                                               Back hallway

                                     Area rug/floor sampler

Thanks for stopping by. I can't wait to see your place! Thanks again to Mrs. G for hosting, isn't she the best?

A Must Read For . . . Everyone Who Has Or Works With Kids

I am an information junkie. Newspapers, magazines, books, on-line magazines--I read them all. I totally disavow all t.v news programming, but that's another post. I'm also a natural researcher. Give me a problem or dilemma and I'll get you twice the information that you needed. Did I mention that I totally pink puffy heart Google and IMDB?! Anyway . . .

Whenever I've had a problem or concern or area of interest related to child-rearing, I read a book. And, boy, have I read a lot of books. I can tell you how to deal with your Difficult Child, your Spirited Child, and how to Raise A Fine Young Man.  I know how to Revive Ophelia and all about Queen Bees and Wannabees as well as having read pretty much every book for parents or children on Tourette Syndrome. So when Jenn says this is one of THE BEST and MOST PRACTICAL AND HELPFUL parenting books she's ever read, you might want to listen.

I think most of the people I know in the blogosphere live in similar neighborhoods to mine, and we are the people Rosalind Wiseman is writing for. The parents with enough time and money to make our kids our number one priority--for good and for ill. And if I didn't love this book already I surely did on page 313 when she says (envision me in my sweltering bedroom reading this and mentally jumping up and down screaming "Yes!" because it was too hot to actually move), "Here's what I think stands the greater chance of ruining your child's future: never punishing him or her in a way that really hits home."

The subtitle on the book is actually a little misleading--Ms. Wiseman waits until the inside to point out that you might be the difficult parent in your child's life. She uses her pinpoint accuracy and easy-to-grasp sociological and psychological insights to describe various parenting styles that make you squirm a little with introspection.

It wasn't difficult to recognize myself in the description of the "Proud-to-be-a-pain Mom" and there's no doubt that Mr. Fix-it is an "Invisible Dad" (not as bad as it sounds: "They're good, well-meaning parents who try to attend all the school functions and never say a word . . . They can't identify with the other parents asking question after question . . .").

And she nailed it when she says of me and my compadres, "The truth is, Proud-to-be-a-Pain Mom enjoys her role as gladiator. And secretly, her kids often enjoy it, too. Someone's got to do the dirty work." Can I get an amen, sister?!

This book provides a practical guide to virtually every situation you might encounter as you raise your children in a conscientious and loving may. Your interactions with teachers, coaches, principals, other parents and your own children WILL be positively effected by having read this book.

She includes advice on birthday parties, sports, cliques (adults' and children's), partying, schooling choices, college applications and more.

I referenced this earlier, but it cannot be emphasized enough, Rosalind Wiseman not only works in our communities, she's raising children in one just like yours. Communities where everyone starts out with the best intentions, but where parents sometimes get lost along the way. Where competition is king and it's easy to lose sight of your values in the quest of wanting the best for your child.

If the copy I was reading was mine, I would be doing a giveaway. Alas, it's borrowed (I cannot wait for the book group discussion on this), so you're on your own. If you have read this book or you end up reading it, please let me know what you think. While this may sound like I'm getting paid or am a personal friend of Rosalind Wiseman's, neither is true. I do actually have a paid gig from MotherTalk on July 2nd, so if you're into book reviews please stop back then.

Mosaic Meme

Jennifer H. at Thursday Drive told me to do this, so I did. (There was the fact that I loved hers, too). We even ended up with a matching picture--It's that whole every other girl in a 15 year time span being named Jennifer thing! Can you guess what my favorite color is?

1. ~Ocean Playground~, 2. Mid-Week Treat #5, 3. MMHS., 4. Cobalt-blue ocean, 5. 4978-John Cusack, 6. Dom Perignon, 7. extraordinary symbols, 8. fondue, 9. Excelsior, 10. Latest Family Portrait, 11. Gliding George, 12. juggling life

Here’s how it works . . .

• Answer each of the questions below.
• Surf over to Flickr (set up an account if you don’t have one–it’s quick and easy) and type your answers (one at a time) into the search bar.
• From the choice of pictures shown only on the front page, click on the one that moves you.
• Once the page with your picture opens, copy the URL.
• Surf over to the Mosaic Maker, set up your mosaic, and paste your URLs.
• Click “Create!”

The Questions:

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you attend?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. What is your favorite drink?
7. Where would you go on your dream vacation?
8. What is your favorite dessert?
9. What do you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. Choose one word to describe you?
12. Your Flickr name? (I had to substitute for this one, since Flickr didn’t recognize my account name).

Playing Along With A Side Of My Personal Take On It

I read a lot of blogs (83 on my reader, plus all the links I follow; somebody stop me!) and a universal sentiment among Mommy Bloggers (sorry if the term offends you, I'm okay with it) is GUILT. WAHM's, WOHM's, SAHM's . . . everyone seems to have a case of the guilts and/or low self-esteem.

I really don't ever feel guilty. I think I'm a good mom, a good wife, a good person. I figure that I do my best and that your best is the most you can do. I know I'm not perfect, but I know nobody else is either, so I'm pretty sure that's how the system works.

How did I get to be this way? I have no idea. I didn't get it from my mother who was a guilt-ridden as they come. Honestly, I can't say that I had any role models in the "no guilt" department. Maybe this is one of those nature/nurture things. My dad doesn't feel guilt either and he abandoned a couple of families!

So when I happened upon this post at Party of 6, read her list and followed her links back, I thought "no problem." In fact, I'm going to see how quickly can I do it.

50 Things I Like About Myself

1. I am smart.

2. I am funny.

3. I am pretty (I know it's shallow, but there you have it).

4. I  am a good mother.

5. I am a good wife.

6. I am a good aunt, sister, sister-in-law (you get the picture).

7. I am a dedicated student.

8. I am a gifted teacher.

9. I am an excellent cook.

10. I am a loyal, steadfast and fun friend.

11. I dress well.

12. I have made my house a warm and inviting environment through decorating (on a budget).

13. I stay on top of my laundry like nobody's business.

14. I am a good writer.

15. I challenged myself to write every day when I started this blog and I've done it.

16. I am a very fast reader.

17. I am frugal, but not cheap.

18. I am not materialistic (which is not to say I don't like nice things).

19. I am highly principled and I do not sell out (there are a couple of good stories attached to this).

20. When I want something I am dogged in my pursuit of it.

21. Even though I would like to be thinner, I have never let my weight (up or down) define me as a person.

22. I have not succumbed to my family legacy of addiction (I acknowledge this may be genetic luck on my part).

23. I am willing to try new things.

24. I am fun at a party--sometimes a little fun and sometimes lampshade on the head fun.

25. I think on my feet really well.

26. I have never been embarrassed to ask a question.

27. I always champion the underdog.

28. I have instilled the personality trait of empathy in all my children.

29. I am unabashedly liberal (and I think that's a good thing).

30. I bake kick-ass birthday and special occasion cakes.

31. I am good at math.

32. I would never stand by and watch someone be hurt or humiliated without interfering. Even if I had doubts about my personal safety.

33. I made sure my mother got her wish to die at home in her own bed.

34. I chose wisely when I picked my husband.

35. I am willing to admit that I love sappy Lifetime movies (even if that makes you judge me).

36. I am self-confident.

37. I am efficient.

38. I can be a fancy-pants Martha Stewart when I want to be, but I don't feel obligated to.

39. I've gotten straight A's for 60 units while still taking great care of my family.

40. I've taught a bunch of kids (not just my own) to swim in the ocean and ride bikes.

41. I can treat myself and never doubt that I'm worth it.

42. I once tore out my entire backyard and replanted it (with the help of a day laborer for the really big stuff) while my husband was out of the country for 2 months. I could never do it today, but I did it then.

43. I don't whine, I do what needs to be done.

44. I never thought having 4 kids was exceptionally hard work. (I'm not judging you if you do, I'm just saying it wasn't for me).

45. I'm open-minded.

46. The most important thing for me in regards to my kids is that they have happy lives. That means I want them to go to the college or do the the job they want to have, not the job I think they should have. Unless they want to be drug dealers or something.

47. I employ good grammar and punctuation. Kalynne Pudner and I might have a little disagreement about the evolution of whether or not it is appropriate to end a sentence with a preposition. I am of the (newer) school of thought that it is preferable to end a sentence with a preposition rather than to reword the sentence so that it sounds awkward, but doesn't end with a preposition.

48. I can text better than most 44 year old women.

49. I don't have angst over getting older. Never have. Which is not to say that it might not kick in at some point.

50. It only took me 14 minutes to come up with 50 things I like about myself (well, technically I guess it was 49 things).

I HOPE YOU THINK ABOUT PLAYING--THIS IS A GREAT EXERCISE.

In Which I Am A Total Slug (Or Maybe A Sloth)

Let's start with a THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU, YOU'RE A GENIUS! shout out to the amazing and friendly Nap Warden--she is responsible for this great new layout. Click the button on my sidebar to see the possibilities that await you. And all for a price so reasonable you'll be rubbing your eyes in disbelief. I have to share with you her advice to me when I confessed that the character sketch might be totally half-the-size a wee bit more svelte than I actually am. "Here's the thing . . . I always make the figure of the sketch a hottie . . . If you can't be hot on your blog, where can you be? It's the easiest weight you'll ever lose." Truer words were never spoken. As you can see, I took her advice.

 

You may have heard we're having a little heat wave here in California. Now, I'm not going to complain too much. After all, no levees are overflowing and nothing is on fire yet. Besides, I've mentioned before that I'm a glass half-full kind of gal. So let me tell you what's great about having it be 104 degrees outside in June in my backyard and 95 in the house! (June? One week in late August maybe. Labor day, maybe. But JUNE?!)

 

First, a little backstory . . .

 

I'm really going to impress you with my optimistic spirit when I tell you that I don't have central a.c. There are several reasons for this. When we doubled the size of our house in a remodel we put in the ducting for the a.c., but never bought a new unit that could handle the increased square footage; it never seemed worth the $5,000 bucks until Friday good lord, I'd sell my future grandchildren for an air conditioner right now.

 

Also, I don't like air conditioning. I like windows thrown open to the world outside. I like light and airiness and huge windows with no window coverings so your house has that outdoors in the indoors feel. I like to hear birds chirping and children at play and I like not having to yell "Close the door! We can't afford to air condition the whole subdivision!"

 

Additionally, we live on the edge of a canyon. If you open the garage door, the garage/house door, and the back slider we get an awesome breeze. This is enough for us virtually year round. But not this weekend, NOT this weekend AT ALL!

 

Thank goodness, that Mr. Fix-it, in his infinite wisdom and possibly possessing heretofore unknown e.s.p., bought and installed a room air conditioner in our upstairs master suite (I know it sounds pretentious, but the contractor talked me into it and that's what it is). I was a little skeptical at first because it's hideously ugly practical looking and I was going for more of a serene look than Early 21st Century Large Appliance (the walls are a phenomenal sage color that doesn't show up on camera).

This picture doesn't really do the unit justice as it doesn't show the large tubing (maybe 7 inch diameter, 2 tubes) that is vented to the outside via a piece of plywood in the window. I'm not sure it really complements the $700 shades that I talked Mr. Fix-it into because they were so perfect with the room and really you can't touch a custom window covering for under $500.00, but whatevs.

 

Anywhoo . . . thank goodness for that unit. By running it on high for 48  hours I've managed to maintain my cave hermitage bedroom at a temperature range between 78 and 90 degrees this weekend.

 

Mr. Fix-it and MVP are mountain biking in Mammoth. Social Butterfly has moved into the swim club with a group of friends. Danger Boy is impervious to temperature changes as long as he has a PS3 controller in his hands.

 

And me? I will need to see the chiropractor this week. I don't think the human body is designed to spend 48 hours straight on a bed, with a fan pointed at their scantily-clad body (not as attractive as it sound), blogging. Okay, so I didn't just blog (although honestly that's mostly what I did--hello, Mrs. G's entire blog roll!). I read all of the New York Times, Salon.com, Slate.com, Queen Bees and Kingpin Dads (book review Thursday!), A Summer Affair (book review July 2), watched several episodes of Law and Order and Matt Lauer's Mistaken Identity, and wrote a somewhat ranting post about parenting which I'll probably never publish. I took the occasional cool bath and left the room for sustenance and liquid refreshment a handful of times.

 

The promised upside? Everyone in my family can feed and clothe themselves. They don't need me need me anymore (of course they still NEED me) which is why I didn't have to move anymore than minimally needed to sustain life. You know how you always want a day to do nothing? I just had two. I'm looking forward to a little activity. Plus, there's a rumor about a break in the high pressure system. I'm hanging my hat on that rumor!

The Toilet Paper Fairy AKA Mom

It's so much like that it's not even funny!

Overheard Around The House

We're on the 17th shot for my Bossy Photo Collage submission. I have rejected all previous photos for various reasons (mostly having to do with forehead wrinkles and undereye darkness):

Grown-up Girl: Damn these cameras and their insistence on capturing reality!

(I should have read this post from Next Door 2 My Ex before I hit send)

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Things I never expected to say and hear (seeing as how I started out with a no violent toys policy) in my house.

Me to MVP and Danger Boy: No pistol whipping in the house!

Danger Boy: Mom! He's got the blow gun!

Grown-up Girl and DB and I are laughing:

DB: Just because It's funny doesn't mean it's not serious!

DB is pointing the airsoft gun at MVP:

DB: Put the blow gun down!

MVP: I don't negotiate with terrorists.

DB: Put it down!

MVP: 4th amendement!

(Minnesota Matron, this is your future!)

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DB: You invited ____________ to the party?!

Me: You know what they say, you can't pick your relatives.

DB: I know, but you can pick whether or not you invite them!

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Me: How's your job going?

Music Man (who's first post-college "real" job is in IT): Apparently I'm getting paid so little that I'm actually putting Indian outsourcers of business.

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Me: What part of the sentence "I don't want to hear anymore" indicates that you should talk faster and louder?

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Step-sis, MIL, Social Butterfly and I are sitting on the couch. SB has her raging fever.

SB: Look at all these bruises on my legs. I wonder if I have anemia again; I haven't been taking the iron pills.

Me: You have a physical scheduled on the 26th. We'll have the doctor check.

MIL: My niece had a lot of bruises. It turned out she had Aplastic Anemia.

Step-sis: Is she okay now?

MIL: Oh, no. She was dead inside of 2 months.

Me (Inside my head: Good lord, woman---wtf is your problem?! Are you an idiot?!): SB, you DO NOT have Aplastic Anemia, you just have a lot of bruises from holding people up during cheer practice.

In Which It Is The Summer Of The Boys From Brazil

Do you remember the summer between 7th and 8th grades? The teeter-totter between child and teenager (or nowadays tween and teenager)? How you began to experiment with make-up and doing something with your hair other than putting it in a ponytail? Your body was likely changing, your friends became more important to you, you were really practically a high-schooler--it was only a year away. And all of the sudden boys--those smelly, noisy, loud, obnoxious creatures that had been hanging around your whole life with the purpose of being alternately playmates and annoyances (at least if you had older brothers)- began to look a little different to you. In fact some of them were kind of cute and sweet and interesting and wouldn't it be fun to get to know them a little better?

Okay, have I got you feeling 13 yet? Here's a reminder of what it might have looked a little like.

 

                       Social Butterfly and good friend, Peanut, last summer

Now imagine if your brothers' water polo team had a Brazilian coach who had a friend who was a coach in Brazil who had a team full of boys that wanted to come play water polo in San Diego for a few weeks in the summer. Then imagine that your mom (who really can't stand not having some volunteer commitment going at all times) said she'd be happy to be the trip coordinator. What if one of these Brazilian water polo players was going to stay with you for a month and your days would be jam-packed with water polo games and social activities like beach bonfires and jet-skiing at the bay and Padre games all with Brazilian water polo players that were 1-2 years older than you? And what if your friend could come with you for like the whole month? Do you think you'd like that?  You know you would (I'm thinking especially of Bad Mom and Mrs. G  and Debbie here--I know the secret boyfriend/man candy thing started somewhere)!

What if the boys showed up and looked a little something like this?

Imagine that they were very sweet and shy and polite and spoke broken English with Portuguese accents and had extraordinarily exotic sounding Portuguese names. Plus, they all wore the best-smelling cologne ever.

Imagine that the water polo team gives nicknames to freshmen every year and that year the nickname given to your next oldest brother, Danger Boy (the one that never gives you a break and is only one grade ahead of you), was "Baby _______" (where _______ = MVP's real first name). But the Brazilians just called him "Baby." Or, more accurately, "Bebee," in an utterly charming Portuguese accent.

How would you feel if every time Danger Boy gave you a hard time about anything for a solid month there was a cute Brazilian boy with a devastatingly sweet smile, saying "No, Bebee! Leave her alone, Be nice!"

Would you be pretty happy that even when they left they e-mailed you and visited your MySpace to say "hi"? Would you and your friend Peanut spend the next year exhorting your mother to figure out a way to get the Brazilians back next summer or better yet for the next school year (we're working on it)?!

Let's just say that SB and Peanut will remember last summer forever. First crushes are like that. Especially when they're innocent yet thrilling. It was a kick to watch--especially because the boys were just enough older that they would never look at the girls as anything other than little sister types.  If they were to come back now . . . ?! There may be some unattractive Brazilians, but apparently they only grant exit visas to the gorgeous ones.

 

 

 

 

 

How Enthusiastic Is Too Enthusiastic?!

Today I attended my third promotion/graduation ceremony in the last 3 days. There was my daughter's 8th grade promotion, my son's high school graduation, and the promotion ceremony for the 5th graders at the elementary school at which I've been doing my field practicum.

These events are important because they mark life passages (although according to Reluctant Blogger, the U.K. doesn't participate). They're also kind of boring, usually too long, sort of miserable if they're outside, and usually the ceremony itself is a bit anticlimactic. At least that's the way I feel about it. There are other people who disagree; or maybe they agree and are trying to liven things up. You know the people I'm talking about.

 

Yes, they're the people with air horns, the enormous balloon bouquets, and the lungpower to bring down the house.

Now I'm the first to admit that unless we've been drinking, my family is pretty much like John Corbett's family in Big, Fat, Greek Wedding. We just don't hoot, holler, and oopah! very much. At least not in public. And I'm totally in touch with the fact that it would be a pretty boring world if everyone behaved exactly the same.

Except . . . what happens when your family's desire to exuberantly celebrate your child's accomplishment means that another family doesn't even get to hear their child's name announced? Or when your big bouquet of Grad! balloons (hello, it's promotion not graduation) prevents another family from seeing their child cross the stage? Or when you shove in front of someone else to get your camera shot and prevent them from getting theirs?

There are some things I put down to cultural differences in celebratory style, and that I can understand. But I just don't get how it's not  plain rude to have your celebration prevent someone else's. I guess I think that The Golden Rule should apply across the board. Am I a party pooper or do I have a point?