Earmuffs, Please

One of the hidden joys of moving is switching over all of the utilities. They never seem to have any difficulty finding you when they think your bill is past due but they haven't quite figured out how to apply the payments to the new account rather than the account tied to the previous address. So what does this mean? Fun stuff with AT&T today--it almost rivals Thomas's Comcastic experience.

On Sept 15 I paid AT&T $113.74 for the August statement. Nothing weird there.

On Sept 19, they sent me a new statement with a credit of $113.74 PLUS a check for $113.74. Ok, that was a little weird. So I decided not to deposit the check.

Good thing.

Today, I received a disconnection notice because of an unpaid balance of--you'll never guess--$113.74. WTF?? I thought. Well, to be honest, I thought it out loud. Out very loud. Hannah was listening, so it ended up sounding more like "WHAT THE FUfffffffffohforchristssake!"

I spent the next 30 minutes trapped in the not-so-helpful AT&T customer holding pen. Er, system. And then another 10 minutes after I hung up and called back.

"Thanks for calling AT&T! I see that you have an outstanding balance of $151.26! May I take payment on that today?"

Um, no my cheery little man. You may not.

With a few keystrokes and apologies for the system being so slow, he said, "Huh," apologized again--yes, it was their mistake--and said that, since they had already sent the check, I would still need to pay the $113.74 AGAIN. You know, just so there would not be an interruption of the phone and Internet services.

Mindful of the problems Thomas has had with Comcast reps incorrectly telling him (much nicer than saying "lying to him to get him off the phone") that the situation had been resolved, I made sure I got my guy's phone number, address, social security number and underwear size. Not really. It's not like he was applying for a loan. But I did get his employee ID number, just in case.

I would like to say that this was an isolated incident, but Thomas had the problem with Comcast (of course, they not only said that we owed them money but that we had swiped their modem when we moved). And PG&E didn't combine our accounts as I had been told. The PG&E rep was great about just moving the money from one account to another, but he did tell me that they would not have caught the error; the payments would have just continued to accumulate in the old account while I kept getting notices of non-payment on the current account.

And he knew this because?

They did it to his mother. Ah, more good times!

So if you have moved recently, be sure to check, check and double check that your kids are out of earshot before you open the bills.

On John Adams

I've just finished reading David McCullough's excellent biography of John Adams, signer of the Declaration of Independence, U.S. Ambassador, first U.S. Vice President, second U.S. President and father of the sixth U.S. President. You know: a classic underachiever. Anyway, a couple of thoughts:

Anyone longing for the "good old days" of civil discourse is deluding themselves. Compared to the beginnings of the republic, this IS the age of civility. And the press today are more than timid. In some of the kinder comments, Adams was repeatedly referred to "pretty fat and flourishing" and a "pharisee of liberty." And that was just by the British press. In the U.S., he was mocked as "His Rotundity" and "the President by Three Votes;" a tool of the British and a "a man divested of his senses." And though they later patched up their friendship, Thomas Jefferson told a French ambassador that "Mr Adams is vain, irritable, stubborn, [and] endowed with excessive-self love."

But Mr. Adams believed strongly in conscience over party; in doing what he thought was right for the country rather than what was right for his political party. Something we could use a little more of these days.

While reading, I constantly found myself trying to draw parallels to the current goings-on in the political world and it was with difficulty that I restrained myself. After all, it's easy to find parallels when you bring your own biases to the party. But from one line (now inscribed on a mantelpiece in the State Dining Room) Adams wrote after moving in to the White House, I think I have a better understanding of why Bush is so uncomfortable spending time there: "May none but honest and wise men ever rule under this roof."

A Question of Conscience

The Bush administration wants to ban only those torture methods that "shock the conscience." I'm assuming that this judicial interpretation was meant to apply more generally, as in "the nation's conscience." However, Bush seems to be taking it more specifically to mean, well, him. And therein lies the problem.

Apocalypse, Now?

I've spent the last few days wondering if it Pat Buchanan practically urging Al Gore to run for president in 2008 and Christopher Buckley saying that it maybe it was time for a time-out for Republicans could be a sign of the apocalypse. And in June, George Will basically said Al Gore should run, that the Presidency would be the best way to influence the debate on global warming.

Of course, there are some blatantly political reasons for wanting the Democrats to at least take the House: Give the Republicans time to regroup while the dems, though in power, would not be able to move an agenda with the Senate and White House still in Republican hands. The Democrats then become the do-nothings, completely focused on the sure-to-be-launched investigations of the run up to Iraq, illegal wire-tapping and torture issues. Republicans could then just sit back and watch as the American public became increasingly disgusted, returning both houses of Congress and the White House to Republican hands in 2008. Brilliant. Sick, but brilliant. Not that I'm feeling cynical about all of this.

So is it too late for Al Gore? Can he come back and take what so many feel was rightfully his? He's come a long way in the past six years. But does he want to do that to himself again?

I like Hillary, but I don't think she can win a general election. I think she would be more effective staying in the Senate.

I like Joe Biden, but he still has a little baggage and really, really likes to hear himself talk.

Russ Feingold--like him, but don't know that he has the name recognition that he'd need.

Did Gore get a dose of humility large enough to make him come across as himself this time and not some stuffed shirt who knows he's the smartest guy in the room? (Biden also suffers from this but still manages to make you think you might want to grab a beer with him anyway. Just throwing that in since so many people find it an appealing quality in a presidential candidate.)

And did Gore learn enough to let the Clinton machine do it's job this time? Has he made his peace with Bill? Yes, yes, Bill has some personal issues, but the man knows politics. He knows America and he knows how to get elected. Also doesn't hurt that he's playing nice with Bush I. Not that I'm feeling cynical or anything.

Tumor Free!

Three hundred and a few dollars later, Argus is officially tumor free and ready to have his teeth cleaned. The exam was only supposed to take 15-20 minutes, but half an hour later we were still waiting for him to come back with the vet. My anxiety must have been contagious because, as I felt my stomach begin to do flips of worry, the girls got quieter and quieter until Hannah asked why it was taking so long. (I'm pretending that it was out of concern for Argus and not because Charlotte had just finished the last of the crackers and juice.)

Just a few minutes later I heard the thump thumping of his tail on the wall before he reentered the room, looking extremely pleased with himself. Apparently he was very cooperative and his usual charming self with the staff. The only thing they couldn't check was his adrenal glands which were blocked by his stomach, swollen a bit from nervous gulping of air. But he's home and healthy and happy! Fortunately his insurance should cover the blood work and the ultrasound. Unfortunately, it will not cover the dental. But I guess that's the price of puppy love.

Suri With the Fringe On Top

Ok, it's a "shock" of hair, not just a fringe. And anyone who recognizes the title is either as old as I am (older?) or has either seen Oklahoma! or When Harry Met Sally a few too many times.

Anyway. Back to Suri Cruise, aka the wagon that TomKat is riding back to relevance.

I am almost ashamed to admit that I gave in to the hype and went to Vanity Fair site last week where there are three photos posted--you have to buy the mag for the rest. Yes, yes, she's very cute but I expected more. A halo maybe.

People please--it's a baby! They're born every day. They just don't have parents with the same PR machine or the desire to make the kid start earning her keep that soon. I'm sure that the money will be donated to charity, but still. At the rate that Tom and Katie were losing popularity, does anyone think that Vanity Fair would have given them a spread that big--much less paid for it--without Suri?

And we wonder why children of stars are so messed up

One more thing: Annie Liebovitz could make a freshly-dug turnip beautiful.

Puppy Love

My oldest child just turned six in July. He weighs 144 pounds and stands 32" at the shoulder. He is the color of summer wheat, just starting to darken for the winter. His mask is black, shot through with the silver that announces his advancing age.

Like any good kid, Argus alternately makes me incredibly happy (feeble attempts to be a lap dog; not minding the occasional tutu around his neck) and drives me crazy (inhaling the cupcakes meant for Charlotte's NICU nurses; eating two sticks of butter intended for cookies; barking at dangerous-looking Chihuahuas while ignoring the magazine salesman at the door). His tricks are limited to balancing a cookie on his nose, bounding at the window barking when you say "Look!" and maintaining his dignity as he slides on his butt down a freshly mopped hall.

But he is my puppy love--the first dog I ever had. (My mother thought only boys should have dogs, while cats were deemed appropriate for girls--I'll get to that post one of these days.) I never knew I was a dog person until we found each other. Last week I dropped him off at the vet to have his teeth cleaned. Three hours later, Dr Schmidt called to say that his Alk/phos was high and not just a tad high, but three times the normal range. So they cancelled his cleaning and started throwing around words like "internist" and "ultrasound" and "liver biopsy."

So while we're sure it's nothing, Argus has to have an abdominal ultrasound done tomorrow afternoon. They are going to check for tumors, stones, and other things I don't want to think about right now. And when they don't find anything he'll still need to get his teeth cleaned, because though not kind, Hannah rightly keeps telling the poor guy he smells like he ate a catfish.

He Actually Said it With a Straight face

Senate Majority Whip Mitch McConnell:

The Democrats are trying to politicize the war on terror. They are the ones who chose to make this a political issue . . .

So there you have it: It's OK for Republicans to trot out the already-beaten-to-death issue on the eve of an election or any other time they need to change the subject. Anyone else even mentioning it with a questioning tone is a) a traitor; b) an appeaser; c) against the troops; or d) using an issue of national security for political gain.

First Day of School

You may have noticed that I've been eagerly awaiting the first day of school. Well, the wait is finally over and it would seem that I wasn't the only one counting the days. I took Hannah by yesterday to show her where her classrooms are and she refused to leave. I had to drag her, kicking and screaming, to the car under the watchful eye of the hired security guards. Ah, good times!

Today she was dressed and ready to go an hour before we needed to leave--which is in itself a miracle. Once we arrived, I thought there might be some show of shyness or not wanting me to leave her there. But no. She kissed Charlotte good-bye in the car and, once we reached her classroom, said good-bye again as she gently nudged Mom and sister back toward the door. So here I am, three hours later, trying not to be impatient with Time dragging it's feet toward five o'clock.

Because It's Funny (and I'm feeling lazy)

The flood of American liberals sneaking across the border into Canada has intensified in the past week, sparking calls for increased patrols to stop the illegal immigration.

The unflinching arrogance of the Bush Administration is prompting the exodus among liberal citizens who fear they'll soon be required to hunt, pray in public, and agree with Bill O'Reilly.

Canadian border farmers say it's not uncommon to see dozens of sociology professors, animal-rights activists, and Unitarians crossing their fields at night. "I went out to milk the cows the other day, and there was a Hollywood producer huddled in the barn," said Manitoba farmer Red Greenfield, whose acreage borders North Dakota.

The producer was cold, exhausted, and hungry. "He asked me if I could spare a latte and some free-range chicken. When I said I didn't have any, he left. Didn't even get a chance to show him my screenplay, eh?"

In an effort to stop the illegal aliens, Greenfield erected higher fences, but the liberals scaled them. So he tried installing speakers that blare Rush Limbaugh across the fields. "Not real effective," he said. "The liberals still got through, and Rush annoyed the cows so much they wouldn't give milk"

Officials are particularly concerned about smugglers who meet liberals near the Canadian border, pack them into Volvo station wagons, drive them across the border and leave them to fend for themselves. "A lot of these people are not prepared for rugged conditions," an Ontario border patrolman said. "I found one carload without a drop of drinking water. They did have a nice little Napa Valley cabernet, though."

When liberals are caught, they're sent back across the border, often wailing loudly that they fear retribution from conservatives. Rumors have been circulating about the Bush administration establishing re-education camps in which liberals will be forced to drink domestic beer and watch NASCAR.

Liberals have turned to sometimes-ingenious ways of crossing the border. Some have taken to posing as senior citizens on bus trips to buy cheap Canadian prescription drugs. After catching a half-dozen young vegans disguised in powdered wigs, Canadian immigration authorities began stopping buses and quizzing the supposed senior-citizen passengers. "If they can't identify the accordion player on The Lawrence Welk Show, we get suspicious about their age," an official said.

Canadian citizens have complained that the illegal immigrants are creating an organic-broccoli shortage and renting all the good Susan Sarandon movies." I feel sorry for American liberals, but the Canadian economy just can't support them," an Ottawa resident said. "How many art-history majors does one country need?"

In an effort to ease tensions between the United States and Canada, Vice President Dick Cheney met with the Canadian ambassador and pledged that the administration would take steps to reassure liberals, a source close to Cheney said. "We're going to have some Peter, Paul & Mary concerts. And we might put some endangered species on postage stamps. The President is determined to reach out."

***************

My only source is my friend Jessica, who got it from her mother. Smells like The Onion though, eh?

Here's to Girly Girls and Muppets, Too

A recent article by Tanya Barrientos of the Philadelphia Enquirer (reprinted today in the San Jose Mercury News) noted the derision encountered by PBS executives as they introduced Sesame Street's first new muppet in thirteen years--a little girl named Abby Cadabby. So what's the problem? Well, it would seem that Abby Cadabby is a girly girl. She's pink. She wears a pretty dress. She has sparkly pink hair. She dabbles in magic.

Ms. Barrientos quotes one of the critics, Susan Linn, co-founder of the Campaign for a Commercial-Free Childhood, as saying:

"The last thing little girls need is one more pink fairy. My understanding is that she's a little incompetent with her magic, too. I'm concerned that now even the Sesame Workshop has bought into the girlie, girlie commercialized image of what it is to be feminine. They could have had a Asian girl, they could have had a girl who's really good at math. They could have had someone who's just more complex."

There are so many things wrong with this statement that I'm not sure where to begin, but I'll give it a shot.

1) "My understanding is . . ." Does this mean that Ms. Linn has not even watched the show? So is she judging on appearances? Isn't this discouraged by parents everywhere?

2) "[S]he's a little incompetent with her magic": Do we demand that Elmo color within the lines? She's THREE YEARS OLD. Very few of us are competent at any one thing at three. Those who are are exceptional. Gifted. Not necessarily someone that the average three year old can relate too. So maybe not a good character for a show targeted to younger children.

3) "They could have had an Asian girl . . ." Sure, and they could have chosen an African-American girl or an Indian girl or any other ethnicity. But why? If I remember correctly, Rosita and Prairie Dawn are the only Muppets on Sesame Street who have a specific ethnicity. What ethnicity is Elmo, the most popular (at least in my house)? Or Cookie Monster, who runs a close second? Bert and Ernie are closer to having an identifiable ethnicity, but they could go one of a couple of different ways.

4) ". . . they could have had a girl who's really good at math." See number two above--SHE'S THREE YEARS OLD. Sesame Street has always been about learning, not about how to handle being a child prodigy. And anyway, Count Von Count is still very much a part of the show, so the math thing is covered.

5) "They could have had an Asian girl, they could have had a girl who's really good at math." I had to read that one three times. While I sincerely hope that it was just an unfortunate coincidence that these two ideas were in the same sentence, I have to wonder if Ms. Linn has her priorities straight. While I'm a huge fan of Noggin and public television for my children, I would rather have them watch a few commercials than learn to assign these implied ethnic stereotypes, which brings me to,

6) Why do we assume that girlie girls are less capable and/or less smart than their more obviously bookish sisters? Why the surprise when a beautiful woman is good at math and science? Why the flip-side disappointment that the less-attractive woman won't be able to do your taxes after all? Do we just assume braininess is a built-in survival mechanism that the more attractive women have been able to turn off as unnecessary? I'm fairly certain that can't be it as standards of beauty change too fast for evolution to keep up.

I don't wonder these things idly, as an impartial observer in need of a blog topic. I live with an uber-girlie girl. Hannah, who I happen to think is gorgeous and smart and funny, will only wear dresses and skirts, the twirlier the better. I've tried, but she decided at 18 months that pants just weren't for her. Sure, it's frustrating sometimes because it might be a wee bit safer to climb in jeans and shoes. But was I proud when she responded to a playmate's "You can't climb a tree in THAT" with "Yes I can--watch!" as she proceeded to out climb him--in her dress and flip flops!

And when I say that Hannah is a girlie girl, it goes deeper than just what she likes to wear. She plays dress up and, yes, princesses are her favorite. Her favorite color is pink and has been from the first time she saw it--this even after I made sure that all of her baby clothes were purple, green and/or yellow. She's never had a pink bedroom but is determined that her new room will be pink with black polka dots. She has tea parties and makes hats for the bears and dolls who attend. Every spare piece of fabric becomes a blankie for some random "baby," some of which are then tucked into socks for their naps.

But my girlie girl is also good at math. She loves books. Her favorite place on earth is the Monterey Bay Aquarium, and she will pretend for weeks on end that our playroom is a tank filled with sharks and tuna and sea turtles. She knows how to tell a giant squid from an octopus and can tell you the names of some of the jelly fish. She knows her letters and the sound each makes, although she's not really interested in reading yet (but she will let you know if you ever skip a page).

In short, Hannah is just like almost every other person on the planet--there is much more to her than you might see at first glance. And rather than making her any less complex, being a girlie girl makes her that much more interesting. I wouldn't have her any other way.

So here's to the girlie girls everywhere, even (without naming names) those who sell themselves as brainless twits. Because after all, even if you start with a famous name, it takes a certain amount of smarts to make cluelessness your raison d'etre.

In Which I Nominate My First Idiot of the Week

Without further ado, under the category of "Please Tell Me This is a Joke," the inaugural Idiot of the Week (IOW) award goes to . . . Katherine Harris of Florida! Name sound familiar? Think back to the 2000 presidential elections. Think "recount." Think "Florida Secretary of State." Think "please don't let sane Floridians make this mistake again."

Much of the world hasn't heard from Ms. Harris since her hand helped Bush into the White House. The Republican party, in gratitude, helped Ms. Harris into the House of Representatives. Ms Harris is now in the midst of a fight for her political life, running for the Senate in a race that, apparently, no state or national Republican of any stature is willing to support. She's gone through several campaign managers and the current one is not smart enough to keep her boss from giving an interview to the Florida Baptist Weekly in which she says, among other things, that only Christians should be elected to office in the U.S.--but I won't try to paraphrase. Jim Stratton of the Orlando Sentinel posted this to the Chicago Tribune News blogs (I've bolded my favorite part):

If you are not electing Christians, tried and true, under public scrutiny and pressure, if you're not electing Christians, then in essence you are going to legislate sin," she [Harris] told interviewers, citing abortion and gay marriage as two examples of that sin.

"Whenever we legislate sin," she said, "and we say abortion is permissible and we say gay unions are permissible, then average citizens who are not Christians, because they don't know better, we are leading them astray and it's wrong. . . ."

Harris also said the separation of church and state is a "lie we have been told" to keep religious people out of politics.

In reality, she said, "we have to have the faithful in government" because that is God's will. Separating religion and politics is "so wrong because God is the one who chooses our rulers," she said.

"And if we are the ones not actively involved in electing those godly men and women," then "we're going to have a nation of secular laws. That's not what our founding fathers intended and that's [sic] certainly isn't what God intended."

Send your own nominations--we'll make this a regular Monday feature!

My President Has a First Name . . . .

It's L-I-A-R. Ok, ok, so that doesn't exactly work with the Oscar Mayer tune, but it's close!

In one of the most quoted and remarked upon moments of his scrambled-together press conference on Monday, Bush said that not only did Iraq have nothing (NOTHING!) to do with the attacks on 9/11, but that no one in his administration had ever suggested such a connection (emphasis added):

Q Quick follow-up. A lot of the consequences you mentioned for pulling out seem like maybe they never would have been there if we hadn't gone in. How do you square all of that?

THE PRESIDENT: I square it because, imagine a world in which you had Saddam Hussein who had the capacity to make a weapon of mass destruction, who was paying suiciders to kill innocent life, who would -- who had relations with Zarqawi. Imagine what the world would be like with him in power. The idea is to try to help change the Middle East.

Now, look, part of the reason we went into Iraq was -- the main reason we went into Iraq at the time was we thought he had weapons of mass destruction. It turns out he didn't, but he had the capacity to make weapons of mass destruction. But I also talked about the human suffering in Iraq, and I also talked the need to advance a freedom agenda. And so my question -- my answer to your question is, is that, imagine a world in which Saddam Hussein was there, stirring up even more trouble in a part of the world that had so much resentment and so much hatred that people came and killed 3,000 of our citizens.

You know, I've heard this theory about everything was just fine until we arrived, and kind of "we're going to stir up the hornet's nest" theory. It just doesn't hold water, as far as I'm concerned. The terrorists attacked us and killed 3,000 of our citizens before we started the freedom agenda in the Middle East.

Q What did Iraq have to do with that?

THE PRESIDENT: What did Iraq have to do with what?

Q The attack on the World Trade Center?

THE PRESIDENT: Nothing, except for it's part of -- and nobody has ever suggested in this administration that Saddam Hussein ordered the attack. Iraq was a -- the lesson of September the 11th is, take threats before they fully materialize, Ken. Nobody has ever suggested that the attacks of September the 11th were ordered by Iraq. I have suggested, however, that resentment and the lack of hope create the breeding grounds for terrorists who are willing to use suiciders to kill to achieve an objective. I have made that case. . . .
Now, the question is how do we succeed in Iraq? And you don't succeed by leaving before the mission is complete, like some in this political process are suggesting.

How do you complete a constantly changing mission? Bush just said--on the record--that we were wrong about the WMD. That Saddam had NOTHING to do with 9/11 (though an incredible number of Americans still believe that--any guesses why?). So what is the mission now? Spreading democracy? Is that only until the Iraqi people elect someone we don't like? Because it sometimes seems as though we only support democratically elected governments when they toe the Washington line. And in a free and fair election in our own country, our vice president insinuates that those who voted against Joe Lieberman were somehow advancing the terrorist agenda. Pathetic. But Bush says:

I will never question the patriotism of somebody who disagrees with me. This has nothing to do with patriotism; it has everything to do with understanding the world in which we live. . . .

So is it not a lie if you get the Vice President to do the questioning?


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Note to those keeping track of words added to the English language by GWB:

"Suicider."

Maybe he'll turn out to be our very own Shakespeare after all!

A Gardener's Lament

You know you're a gardener when you begin to feel that itch in your fingers toward the end of winter, if not sooner; the itch that tells you to get out and start digging--gloves or no. Last year, this was a problem for me because it rained for what seemed like at least half of forever. We couldn't dig or plant because the ground was so thoroughly saturated that it would only compact the soil and suffocate the plants. So no peas or beans, and the tomatoes--three kinds!--were so late going in that they didn't start to ripen until just before we moved.

Which leads to another sign that you're a gardener: Anxiously checking on the plants every morning and afternoon, searching for a luscious, perfectly red tomato with the unmistakable smell of summer, the smell that you could carry around all day just from the periodic dives between the tomato cages. As our move date edged closer and closer, I was tempted to pull up the zucchini to give the tomatoes a better shot. But I couldn't bring myself to do it, and so instead just kept trimming the dead leaves, weeding, diving and inhaling. The day we moved, I made Thomas bring in a couple of green tomatoes with the zucchini and basil. Every year growing up, my mother would make fried green tomatoes--lightly dipped in seasoned flour and fried to a pale, crisp gold. They were one of the bookends of my summers: Banana splits on the last day of school; fried green tomatoes just before we pulled the plants out at the end of the season.

I really miss our garden. We have plants on the deck in containers but it's not the same. And while Fresh Fields has nice produce, there is nothing like eating a warm tomato right off the vine--especially a vine that you watched grow from a 4" pot. And once again, I'm starting to feel my gardener's anxiety as the days begin to slip into autumn: the light has shifted; the comforters are back on the beds; and the last two evenings, I've smelled wood smoke from a neighboring fireplace.

Our landscaper won't start the plan for a couple of weeks yet and I can't bring myself to spend time in the yard because it cries out to be nurtured. The nurturing it needs is going to take a BobCat and a lot more time than I have in between errands, snacks and games of Go Fish, and more than Thomas has between work and sunset. According to a neighbor who has been here for 35 years, our yard has not been touched in at least 15 years.

Lest you think I exaggerate (of course I do, just not this time), this photo was taken in the spring. The green is the weeds, now a lovely straw color:

What Did You Call My Kid?

Last week, Charlotte had her evaluation for physical , occupational and speech therapies. I am sorry to say that she passed with flying colors--well, a "C" anyway: she has moderate delays in receptive language, expressive language and social/emotional, as well as a moderate delay in her gross and fine motor skills. So we're now looking for a program that can address all of those issues but, because of waiting lists, she'll probably end up going to at least two different programs.

So today I received the written evaluation, which included this passage:

"Charlotte is an adorable 19 month old girl. She loves spending time with her older sister and playing with the family dog. Charlotte enjoys looking at books. . . . Charlotte is a good sleeper and a god eater."

That's right. Our little girl is a god eater. They don't specify which one, or the manner in which he/she/it might be prepared, but there it is. Actually in triplicate and in a file that will spend 20 years in a locked facility once she has finished the program.

All this time and I had no idea that "Gah" was a menu request.

The Yawn Heard Around the World

On July 26, London's Daily Mail published an article by Helen Kirwan-Taylor that seems to be causing almost as much of a stir as Linda Herschman's now-infamous "Homeward Bound." In the article, "Sorry But My Children Bore Me to Death" Kirwan-Taylor writes about her preference for a salon appointment to the boredom that surely awaits at play dates, birthday parties and even the occasional board game at home. It hit a nerve with its first publication and is now, courtesy of the Internet, swinging from the last nerves of S.A.H.Ms everywhere.

My first reaction: What the hell is her problem? My second was to wonder whether I was merely masking guilt for agreeing with parts of the message by getting angry with the messenger.

It pains me, but I will admit it: I DO get bored. There are some days I just want to lock myself away with a book and a hot cup of coffee. After all, there are only so many tea parties you can attend in one day, so many "sleep overs" right after breakfast, and so many games of Candyland you can play before your brain begins to turn to mush.

My follow up questions were:

• Why do we work so hard to fulfill what we see as society's view of the proper role of mothers?
  
• Why is it so hard to admit that we can't get all of our needs met by staying with our kids 24/7?
  
• Why is it so difficult to give ourselves permission to find something outside of our children, something that let's us keep--or develop--a sense of self?
• Why are we so quick to condemn the choices of other women?

Sadly, the last question might just be the easiest to answer: We do it because it validates our own choices; because it gives us a reason to change the subject raging in our own minds--did we do/are we doing the right thing--whatever our choice.

Every day I wake up to the challenge of balancing the girls' need for my attention with my need for space and peace and brain candy. And almost every day I lose at least a part of that battle. But I made the choice to be a S.A.H.M., and in so doing, I made a deal with myself that my girls would always know that they were loved and important and necessary. And for me, that means making myself available, even when I feel bored or frustrated. That's not to say that I think I need to spend every waking moment with them--I don't believe that's good for them or for me; I do want them to be independent after all. But that's another post.

A Penny From Heaven

My wonderful mother-in-law came for a long weekend, spoiled the girls, helped to rearrange the furniture and generally made everyone happier--as she always does. And, as always, I am inspired by her enthusiasm for life--family, work and her hobbies. She glows with it and it is contagious: I've almost stopped feeling the need to check into a rest home!

A Fitting Response

Of course, Bill himself would have been a bit more diplomatic, even with someone as far off the deep end as Ann Coulter.

Desperately Seeking Sanity

How do you know when you've been at a job for too long? I haven't had an office job for six years now, so I'm not sure I remember. There was something about irritability, short temper, chronic exhaustion, anxiety and the recurring daydream of being in some nice little rest home somewhere in a medically induced sleep being fed through a tube. As the song says, "Does that make me crazy?"

I've been a full-time mom for almost four years--that's the longest I've ever stayed at any one job. (I was at one company for 5.5 years, but dutifully climbed four rungs of the ladder there.) And the Mom-thing just seems to be getting harder lately. Part of it is because Hannah is in a very "I want, I want, I want" place right now and if she doesn't get her way, she loses it. Shopping mall, grocery store, restaurant, car . . . makes no difference. I'm always worried that someone is going to call the police because it must look like I'm forcing some random, screaming child into my car. Ah, good times!

Whether it's due to the stress of the move or just growing pains, Hannah has become a little--ok, a lot--clingier. Some days I literally cannot get her to let go of me. (There is a benefit to this since I don't have to sweep the floors on those days :) And the more she grabs, the more I see me slipping away. I can't have a thought that is my own or find a space that's mine--not even 10 minutes alone in the bathroom! I trip over the toys she won't put away and find a pile of stuffed animals sleeping in my bed every night. My shins are bruised from the kicking; my psyche from being told "I don't like you."

It's not that I want to quit my job. I don't--I love my job. Some days I just feel completely burned out. Crispy, fried and toast.

Thomas thinks we should get an ugly French au pair to help out. But Hannah starts school on September 6, so I'm going to stick it out. I just need to find a way to schedule the day so that we all get what we need. Which right now, means that "Me Time" falls between 11pm and 7am.

Updates and Other Random Bits

I've been a bit busy with unpacking and working on an actual paying job, so I'm cheating with an update on some earlier posts. Of course, some of you have asked for updates, so here goes:

1. The elderly lady who freaked me out enough to call 911 was ok after all. She lives in a nursing home in San Jose and, apparently, our phone number was one digit different from that of a family member's phone number. The 911 operator was very nice about letting me know this--she must have been able to hear how upset I was when I called back. And I have heard from the woman again a couple of times--on voice mail but at least I know she's still out there.
2. The Real (Estate) Diet--Eight pounds and counting! No food to buy, no fees to pay (well, except taxes, insurance, closing costs, etc.). Try it! Of course, I don't want to buy a new house every time I need to drop a few pounds.
   
3. Hannah wanted to know why I went to the BlogHer conference by myself. I made the mistake of telling her that Mommy needed to spend time with grown ups and get some brain candy. So now she's all packed and ready to go next year so we can eat brain candy together.
4. We've started interviewing landscapers to do something--anything--with the yard before the rainy season. (Otherwise, we might have to have mud sledding at the eventual house-warming.) Thomas and I will be doing a lot of the work and I'm going to be writing about the process, from the interviews to the plant tours and the digging and planting. Maybe even the swearing and throwing of rocks! Anyone know an editor at Sunset or HGTV?
5. Charlotte had her first appointment in the evaluation process for speech and OT. Of course she started saying what sounded like actual words right after I made the appointment and even took two steps on her own, from my arms to Thomas. She meets with the pediatrician doing the actual evaluation on Thursday, so I fully expect her to be skipping through the house, reciting Shakespeare by Wednesday night.