crazedparent

Good reads that have nothing to do with cocktail playdates...

Because really, what's left to be said? Melissa summed it up quite well today. (But if you have more to say about cocktail playdates and such, say it here. I'm shameless.)

If you're ready to move on, I was captivated by two fantastic stories in the New York Times Sunday Magazine this weekend.

-Marooned, by Peter Sagal, where he tells the tale of tossing his daughter's coveted Mardi Gras beads and the chaos and guilt that ensues...leaving him stranded on the roof of his neighbor's house. It's hysterical.

-The First Dance, by Mark Oppenheimer. A real-life version of the movie Footloose (without having to see Kevin Bacon bang his fists against his beat-up barfmobile bug when he can't get the Reverand to see his ways.) Oppenheimer visits with students at John Brown University as they prepare for their first dance ever. Ever.

What is life without music and dancing? I wouldn't want to know.

Side note: The boys are on the mend after a weekend crescendo of a visit to urgent care. At least now I can laugh about being puked on at 2 a.m. by Q. while his big bro whined incessantly about not having enough room in MY bed. Thanks to all for the kind thoughts and emails.

Still sick, still cute...

My boys don't just get sick. They get crazy sick. And when gets hit with a bug, the other brother gets a little punky and decides he can't be left out of the picture. So when Nol stopped his vomiting frenzy Wednesday afternoon, Q. decided to pick up where is big brother left off. And he conveniently decided to do so when his pops had to go on a business trip.

It's been a miserable few days. Puke, snot, crankiness, sleepless nights. And when I say *sob*, I truly mean sonuvabitch.

But thanks to Stefania, at least Q. had a little sunshine in his world. We paid a little welcome wagon visit to the CityMama house last week and were on the receiving end of some cute hand-me-downs in the form of Wallie's blue Crocs. Q. wears them from morning to night. Even in his jammies. And most certainly must wear them during breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Happy weekend. Let the pukefest end.

 

Oh happy day...

We stayed here last night (a birthday weekend) with this view. And this morning we are going here. The thought of drinking a latte from here is making me giddy (to add to my food hangover from here).

It's early in the morning, the boys woke their grandparents up instead of me, so I can have a leisurely visual stroll through my reads. Bliss.

And now, DrGeeksWife (othewise known as Girl with the Red Hair) has managed to make me addicited to crafty sites. I'm inspired to confess and buy this paper. Because, you know, who needs sleep when you can make pretty things?

More weekend fun...watch this.

(Another confession, I've been away from the kidlings for less than 15 hours and sigh, I can't wait to hold them and hear, "Mama!" I'm hopeless.)

10-Minute Writers: She didn't even say goodbye...

Julia just reminded me that we haven't done any 10-minute writing this week. Too busy with the birthday celebrations I guess -- I'm a huge believer in birthday WEEK...long live the party!

BethanyH. is having a little inspiration slump, so she says, but she's actually inspired me with something she did last week. She did the 10-minute writing excercise using the "I remember..." prompt but it was a fictional memory.

Here's your 10-Minute Writers exercise for the weekend...

Write for 10 minutes, no stopping to smell the roses or edit, beginning with the phrase: "She didn't even say goodbye...". 

And here's the challenge: It must be fiction, and not about death. Of course, most fiction draws on non-fiction so I know you'll tap into that, but this exercise is really one to get the creative juices going.

I won't post my exercise until Monday. But when you're done with your exercise, post your link in my comments. Ready? Go.

35 and subtracting...

I'm 35 today. The actual age doesn't bother me, though I'm sure it reminds my older brothers and sister that they, in fact, are really old. Hehe...not really, but I like teasing them to remind them that no matter what, I will always be the baby in our family. That rocks.

My 35th birthay in a nutshell, because I know you care...

I'm sitting in my office sipping a macchiato while writing, listening to the sweet sounds of Herbie Hancock funk ("Cantaloop") on XM Radio...the Chill station. I've just posted my lastest thoughts on how to handle having a sick child when you're a working mom at Job-Mom. And now I'm on to editing some really fantastic stuff by a bloggy crew for the Maya's Mom blog.

And speaking of Maya's Mom - I have a birthday challenge for you. For my 35th birthday, I want 35 new friends to join me at the site in the next 24 hours. Will I get my wish? Make it happen!

Win a Valentine's Day Crown by The Zero Boss and the Suburban Bliss Family...

You read correctly. The Zero Boss is getting crafty...but for a cause! And so is the Suburban Bliss family...well, Logan Summers, to be exact (I'm sure Melissa, Madison and Max will help out too!)

What the hell am I talking about?

Vist Maya's Mom for the full scoop, but we're running our first contest! It's called, "Let's Talk About Love, Baby" and should inspire lots of creative and fun "interviews" with the kidlings. One lucky winner will crowned the King or Queen of Loveisms. Along with a boodle of children's books about love, the King or Queen will receive two kick-ass crowns designed and hand made by Jay and Logan (Thanks to both of you for sharing your artistic talents!).

Come on, go check it out!

10-Minute Writers: I remember...

Ready for your first 10-minute writing exercise? This one is based on Wild Mind by Natalie Goldberg...

Write for 10 minutes and start your post with the phrase "I remember..."Only write for 10 minutes. Use a timer. Don't stop writing/typing. Doesn't have to be in the past. It could have been five minutes ago, as Goldberg says. If you get stuck in thought, go back to the phrase "I remember." Don't spell check. Don't edit yourself. Not even to post. Don't worry if you're not sounding like Toni Morrison or [Insert your Favorite Writer].

Post your 10-Minute Exercise link in comments or track back so we can all read each other's stuff.

Ready?

Go.

"I remember when Q. would cry, scream and grab my legs in fear when the babysitter would knock at the door. He knew. He just knew that Mama was leaving and he'd have to play with someone else not Mama. I remember gathering my computer and purse in a hasty rush to get out the door to stop him from this agony. To not have to hear him cry. To not have to see his angry, tear-stained face and mochos streaming down from his nose. I remember the guilt of leaving him with someone else. The working mom guilt. The damned if you do damend if you don't thought that stuck in my head. The blaring music I played to keep my thoughts off of Q. and on someone else. The singer. The song. The singer. The cute, handsome, rugged singer. The cries. The tears. The dilemma. I remember the babysitter coming over this morning and Q. didn't cry. He said "Mama, no bye bye." Mama, don't go. He started to cry, but for only a second. And then he started play peek-a-boo with the babysitter by hiding behind my legs. Peeking his face in between my knees. I remember saying "Q. dame u besito" and where he normally runs to me and kisses me ferociously, I remember him not even paying attention to me. Just playing with his Thomas the Tank Engine wooden train tracks. Burying his face in the plastic container that contained all the tracks. He started babbling and singing as I stood. No Squatted, about two feet from him. So I leaned over and kissed him goodbye. He didn't even notice. Or chose not to. And so back to the thoughts. I was hit with a brief moment of sadness. He wasn't mad, sad, cranky, that I was leaving. He wasn't throwing himself at me, begging, pleading for me to stay. He wasn't. He WAS happy. Adjusted. Accepting. I remember grabbing my bags to leave the house. The bags that were prepared earlier in the morning for a quick, hasty escape because I assumed it was Monday and he'd have a tough time with me leaving. But he didn't. And now, I can't wait to get home and see him. The working mom dilemma. Damned if you do. Damned if you don't. Yet always happy to be with your kids. I remember."

The five-year-old argument...

I wrote a story today over at Maya's Mom about the art of arguing with a five-year-old. It's based off of a story I recently read in Wondertime Magazine, which is my absolute favorite of all parenting magazines. So I was incredibly thrilled when I received emails from both the editor and author of that Wondertime story to compliment me on my Maya's Mom blog post.

My story is called "The Five-Year-Old Argument." Give it a read.

And after you read it, join Maya's Mom and add crazedparent as your friend!

What took so long?...

Regardless of your political affinity, every woman who cares about our government and hopes to see a female President -- in their lifetime -- should be so very proud of this. Look at all those kids surrounding U.S. Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. What's not to dig?   

Happy Friday!

To the 10-minute writers - class starts on Monday.

New Year, new tresses, new new...

I love the New Year. Only day two and I'm diggin' on it.

First things first. Every once and a while I feel the need for edge. Some people get belly button rings. Some people get new tattoos. Some people change their entire wardrobe. Me? I change my hair.

Long hair, pink streaks, always in a ponytail. Sooo 2006 (except for well, you know who).

New Year. New Tresses. New Tude. Hello 2007.

I'm going for the short, sleek, deep-espresso colored locks. All about fun and sass. And that's hopefully what you'll get at crazedparent too.

I'm changing the format of the blog a bit. I always intended it to be a place to find news and info that parents would find interesting. But I'm doing that more and more elsewhere. So I'm going to keep crazedparent focused on what I love.

 

Writing.

Think of crazedparent as random riffs of the parenting kind. My new tag.

Specifically, I'll be using crazedparent as the place for my 10-minute writing snippets, which will be based on Natalie Goldberg exercises in Writing Down the Bones and Wild Mind: Living the Writer's Life. I'll be posting the exercise and then you'll get to see the results. Sort of my online writing journal. I will try to focus it on parenting, but not always. Some if it could be nonsensical. Some of it could be damn good. The point is to just keep the words flowing. Hopefully daily.

I know many of you who read my blog are writers. If you'd like to join me in this new exercise, let me know. The 10-minute writing exercise is awesome for finding stories within stories, and to "unleash" the words when you're stuck in the muck. If enough people are interested, I'll create a button (I know how much you guys like buttons, and I really want to create one!!)