crazedparent

Random Friday thoughts and confessions..

My mind is a jumble of thoughts right now and all on unrelated topics. While I want to write separate posts on each of them, I believe they would all get buried in the blog post chasm of my brain. Instead, I expose you to my literary heave:

-Sleep, interrupted: Five and Q. are on an early wake-up streak. For the past two weeks they are out of bed by 6 am regardless of when they went to sleep. It saps my energy and feeble brainpower by 8am and makes for one cranky mama. Anyone else with this conundrum?

-No coloring: Five hates the one activity kindergartners spend the most time doing: coloring worksheets. "It's boring," he says with a sigh when we review his classwork. I am reminded of my kindergarten self and how I despised coloring within the lines. He's so much like his mama. And I'm having a difficult time convincing myself that he needs to like coloring. Yes, it's good practice for his fine motor skills. Yes, he needs to follow instructions. But no, I can't make him color within the lines.

-Diving in: My husband asked me what made me nervous about taking swimming lessons. Beyond the deep end, I told him in all honesty that a cute, male swim instructor would cause me to revert to my 12-year-old geeky self with a crush on my brother's best friends. My old instructor moved to New York over Thanksgiving -- and I met my new trainer this morning.  He's a cool, surfer/big brother cute, not water polo cute -- and he worked me over. My session today left me breathless and aching but with an endorphin high. Dig it.

-Bad reads: I recently read Confessions of a Prep School Mommy Handler by Wade Rouse. It's a memoir of his life as running PR for a high-end private school on the East Coast. One word: painful. It's very similar to the The Nanny Diaries in that the protagonist is treated like dirt from the so-called villain, yet this person continues to allow himself to be emotionally beaten to a pulp. You don't pull for this character to get the hell out of dodge. You pity him for being spineless. And when you remind yourself that this is a memoir, you feel even worse. Not my kind of book. But if you want it, let me know. The first person who leaves a comment with a request for it can have it!

-Good reads: I also just finished reading the galley proof of Rock Star Mommy: My Life as A Rocker Mom by Judy Davids, the lead guitarist of the mom rock group The Mydols. A bunch of moms with no instrument experience whatsoever form a band and kick some serious boo-tay in Detroit. I can't say more about the book because it's not out yet, but I will admit that it got me very fired up about attending Ladies Rock Camp next spring. I'm ready to shred. And no, you can't have the galley proof.

-Confessions: It's a known fact that the crazedparent house does not own a television, but that we watch DVDs on occasion. I used to be a big fan of the soap opera, General Hospital. It's really easy to keep up with this soap with online updates of daily episodes. One day I came across a You Tube member who posts daily with entire episodes. (Why was I looking on You Tube for GH episodes? Why else -- to see a little snippet of Dr. Noah Drake.) And now, each night I watch the first and last ten minutes of General Hospital. I feel slightly dirty about this habit. But seriously, when are Jason and Elizabeth going to just play house? And is Coop the strangler? Or is it sleazy Logan?

I feel much better now that I've purged with words.

Happy Friday!

Rockstar Supermama: The wrap up...

I just wrote my wrap-up post about Ladies Rock Camp over at JobMom. But there were a few things I left out:

-I appear to have some nerve damage on three fingertips of my left hand. I imagine over time they will stop feeling numb, but for now, I'm taking advantage of the lack of feeling to practice my mean riffs (why focus on the negative?!)

-Attendees from Ladies Rock Camp have started to upload photos from our weekend over at Flickr. Check out the photo pool here. I'm so grateful someone managed to capture our performance on stage and throughout camp. These shots give you a good flavor of how the weekend went. Some of my favorites include one where we were strumming outside on a picnic table during quiet practice, rehersal, and our performance at Satyricon.

-When the hubs watched the video of our performance, he asked what song we were covering. How good did I feel telling him it was an original? Damn good.

-Nol asks to hear "Ride On" every day and he sings the opening guitar riffs too. We 've pulled out the guitar each night and he loves watching his mama strum a few chords.

All in all, such a blast and thanks for putting up with me as I re-live it here on crazedparent. Your supportive notes and comments helped get me on the plane and through the door. I truly hope that someday, those of you who have told me that you want to attend actually get your asses to Ladies Rock Camp.

Because you, too, should be a Rockstar Supermama.

*And if you have a daughter(s) who is older than age 9, you must check out Rock 'n' Roll Camp for Girls.

Let your freak flag fly...

As I was on my way to Portland last Friday getting ready for Ladies Rock Camp, I had my stash of requisite reading (Us, People, and The New York Times*). It wasn't as much fun as when Beth and Stefania were with me to provide color commentary but nonetheless, I love me some celebrity gossip.

I was reading Drew Barrymore's profile interview and she said something that I loved. In fact, it became my motto for the weekend. So I thought I'd share it with my bloggy mamas. My new mantra...a la Drew.

"Let your freak-flag fly, and if someone doesn't get you, move on."

It was the perfect thing to read right before I walked into a room of 50+ women whom I'd never met...yet I would be learning the guitar from scratch, singing, and performing, in front of all of them. Over the weekend, one of my best friends watched our rehearsal video and she IM'd me saying, "You are so in your element." And she was right.

I let my freak flag fly -- and I may not ever let it fall.

*The NYT sat in my hotel room, unopened, all weekend.

 

Back back back...

I returned from my rock star-ish weekend this morning and I'm exhausted. One hundred and fifty percent, completely, totally, utterly exhausted. So many thoughts to share but the poor little tips of the fingers on my left had are sporting some serious boo-boos (in the words of my sweet Q.), making typing just a little bit annoying. I'll have the full breakdown later this week.

At our afterparty last night, Beth from The Gossip showed up for a bit. I'd never heard of the band until yesterday but apparently these ladies are "it." An instructor from Ladies Rock Camp told our guitarist (of Dirty Courtneys) that we should listen to The Gossip because we have a similar sound. (how cool is that?! we have a "sound"!) I went and downloaded a bunch of songs and really, you should too, after listening to a few tunes I've quickly learned why The Gossip is hot.

Rockstar Supermama: Loud practice...

Day 2 at Ladies Rock Camp...

I got home at 2 am this morning after 11 hours of lessons, band practice and a rockin' night of a Dance Party Revolution including four hours of karaoke. Did I sing? Guilty. The song..."Hollaback Girl" by Gwen Stefani. I just pray it didn't make it's way onto video because, well, because.

The list...

• Fingers are numb
• I tried playing without a pick and it was fantastic but caused some badges of honor...I scraped some nails and cut and bruised a few fingers. Sweet.
• We rehearsed our song live for a group of 20 people in preparation for tonight's showcase. It was nerve wracking and incredibly frightening. But we shredded our tune and I'm so glad we had a chance to get the nerves out of our system. I had to keep reminding myself that I gave birth to two sons. I endured countless hours of labor. I can get onstage and get my rock on.

So rehearsals, what does it look like? Here's a snippet our us trying to get the bridge of the song nailed down...

And then we get a little crazy...

Yay.

Rockstar supermama: All hail rock n' roll...

How do I even began to explain the coolness of Ladies Rock Camp? 

I've just returned from day one. Fifty women in one room, all eager and amped to learn how to play music. No egos, no games. Just lots of attitude...positive, amazing, energetic and contagious attitude.

Here's what I've done in just first eight hours of lessons:

• Learned how to tune my guitar and basic chords plus used the distortion box
• Formed a rock band
• Named said rock band..."Dirty Courtnies"...in tribute to the pre-botox and grunged out Courtney Love
• Written a song...we're stuck on the chorus and intro, but with a few sessions tomorrow we'll be on our way
• Discovered that contrary to my husband's belief, I can sing. Not only can I sing, I can harmonize! Yay! Seriously, when you think you have an awful voice and suddenly, you discover that in the right environment and given the right instruction, you can actually sing...well, it's just cool. And the Dirty Courtnies -- we rock the house.
• Developed nasty, red blisters on my finger tips from wailing on my guitar. I'm wondering how I'll deal with Saturday. It will be most painful.

We even had a little workshop on guitar moves. No joke. Moving around with your guitar is not an easy task.  You have to be smooth and it has to look natural. We practiced our leg kicks (a la glam rock), our crotch pose, hair flips, the lunge, and the drop-to-your-knees goodness. So fun.

I also sat in on a session about the history of women in rock. Very eye-opening.

That's just day one. The guitar is handling itself most beautifully. I think I'd make the big RS proud.  I'm like a little kid standing in front of the gates at Disneyland waiting to get in. I can't wait until tomorrow's lesson. Until then, I leave you with a signal that we used most often today, and said with a yell of Wooooh!

Rockstar supermama: Now Hiring - Roadie/Guitar Tech...

Title: Roadie/Guitar Tech

Job Description:

Tour with Rockstar Supermama for one weekend at Ladies Rock Camp. Responsibilities include carrying all related musical equipment, including guitar case, luggage, computer equipment and all digital media items; tuning and shining guitar; replacing broken strings; fetching all decaf, nonfat lattes and ensuring they have appropriate foam art, as stated by artist in rider; and wiping sweaty brow of Rockstar Supermama with only the finest, softest cotton towels made, also as stated in rider.

Roadie/Guitar Tech must be an excellent listener and be familiar with antics of preschoolers and toddlers, as he/she will endure countless hours of listening to stories about artist's children. Knowledge of Rick Springfield a plus, but not required.

Salary: The Roadie/Guitar Tech gig is a non-paying position. Roadie/Guitar is also responsible for paying all travel-related fees. In return, you will have the opportunity to witness a star in the making. What more can you ask for?

***

I'm on my merry way tomorrow morning. Camp is packed with activities from morning to night. But I will have time for updates. Stay tuned!

Rockstar supermama: the gear...

I'm in the final prep stages for my upcoming weekend at Ladies Rock Camp where I'll be learning how to play the electric guitar. I'll admit that I'm fairly excited to have a little "me time." But I can't decide which is better: that I'm actually learning how to play the guitar. Or the fact that I'm learning to play Rick Springfield's guitar. Tough call -- I'll take the latter times two.

While I had the guitar restored last Fall, there were a few problem areas that still needed to be mended before I hauled it to camp. Over the weekend, I took a trip to my local Guitar Center to see if they could provide me with all the essentials to be a rockstar supermama.

Walking into Guitar Center is daunting, especially when you have perhaps one single iota of knowledge as to what you're in search of buying. The loud music. The gorgeous guitars. The big amps and drum sets. The very knowledgeable sales dudes who would laugh at me in about two seconds after I ask for a whatchamacallitthingy.

I really had to mentally prepare myself for the experience.  I knew that if I wanted to be a rockstar supermama, I needed to start acting like one. But my dorky, insecure 15-year-old self was hanging on standby. So I threw on some digme lipgloss, pulled my shades back over my hair, grabbed my guitar, and walked into the store. And then I did what every reporter does at some point in his or her career: I pretended to know what I was talking about.

Lucky for me, the guitar is like magic: an instant icebreaker. With a huge chunk of wood missing from its body, everyone wants to know the story behind it. And I'm always, always willing to share the sordid, silly details.

Also lucky for me, the store's assistant manager, Scott, was my sales dude. It took him about ten seconds to assure me that the store had every single item so that I could begin my quest to be a kick-ass guitar-playing diva.

After about 20 minutes, I was outfitted with a Roadrunner Electric Guitar Case, a white-tipped Fender tremolo (the original was lost on a stage when Rick Springfield bashed the guitar), a set of black straplocks, a black suede guitar strap, crazy wild confetti-colored Fender guitar picks and a black and silver checkerboard guitar cable.

As I walked out of Guitar Center with my new case in hand and fully stocked with the essentials for my weekend, I felt confident and dare I say it? Yes, I dare. I felt sexy. 

Let's rock n' roll, babies.

 

Rockstar supermama: the butterflies begin

I recently received my welcome packet for Ladies Rock Camp, where I will attempt to be a rock star for a weekend. Here are four things that have some seriously big butterflies flipping out in my stomach:

1. I will be part of a band that will have to write an original song.

2. Said original song will be performed as part of a Showcase at a real concert hall on the final night of our camp. As in, we will have a real audience. Do I have to sing background vocals? Because as my husband will attest, I have no singing voice.

3. I will be doing both the first and second points with minimal abilities on the guitar. However, I will be spending close to 12 hours a day taking lessons.

4. The welcome packet mentions we should bring something special, rock starish, to wear for the Showcase. Do you think I could manage to not fall on my face in these hot mama peep-toe heels? 'Cuz I'm thinking that nothing says "rock star" better than patent-leather and leopard print heels.

Rock star digs...post your suggestions with links. 

Rock star supermama...

One of the cooler things about being a reporter is covering even-cooler stories. Not much can top interviewing my teen heartthrob, but being a Rock Star SuperMama for a weekend may come in as a close second.

I recently learned about something called Ladies Rock Camp -- a two-and-a-half-day weekend camp where women with all types -- or very little -- musical background gather to learn how to play an instrument of their choosing. Keyboards, bass, vocals, drums...you name it, you can learn how to play it.

At the end of April, I will have the fortunate pleasure to attend and cover Ladies Rock Camp for various and sundry outlets, including here. And it gets better.

I will be learning how to play the guitar. Fo' real. And not just any guitar. The guitar. The one that I had restored after it was crushed on stage by Señor Springfield. I will learn how to play it correctly. I will be part of a band. And at the end of the weekend, we will jam.

Can you read my excitement? Can you tell that I am coming unglued at the seams with pure child-like joy?

My friends reading this will know that everytime I mention that I am going to Ladies Rock Camp, it is highly likely that I am doing a little dance. Seriously, it would be the equivalent of a baseball loving-man attending Fantasy Spring Training. Bliss, I tell you.

More on Ladies Rock Camp as the big weekend approaches. For now, I must practice my Rock Star Super Mama moves. If you have any rock star moves you'd care to share, let me know.