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Tuesday, June 29, 2010

My buddy and me.

My buddy. My buddy. My buddy and me!

No I am not talking about the ugly boy doll popularized when we were teenagers (possibly still in gradeschool?)

I am talking about that other buddy. My Blackberry. Or, my “boyfriend” as my husband refers to it. (Note: for the purposes of relating you may substitute Blackberry for I-Phone, if it suits you)

I would like to hypothesize (in the words of Buddy the Dinosaur - give me an I-love-PBS-Kids if you know who I am talking about) that the Blackberry is a crucial tool, nay a crucial survival mechanism, for the 21st century mother.

Can I get an AMEN?!

I am not talking about using it once a day, or even a lot. I am talking unhealthy codependent relationship levels of use.

I sometimes fall asleep with my Blackberry grasped in my sweaty, cramped hand.

I feel a pang when I shut it down (reserved only for church or some other solemn occasion).

I sleep with it tucked into my bedframe. On standby mode.

Any blink of the red light and I pounce on it. Someone emailing me? A text? Yes, please.

And what, you ask, is my use of this unholy time-sucking device?

Pure escapism, as you well know. If you own one and you are of the yoga-pant-wearing-set you know what I am talking about.

An example:

7:32 children force mommy out of bed.
7:35 I reach over for Blackberry on the side of my bed
7:36 I check email
7:45 diaper change, check. Milk and squeezie yogurt, check.
7:47 coffee settling in French press
7:50 coffee in mug
7:52 Facebook check number 1 (More on Mommyhood in the Facebook era later…)
8:17 E-online check, number 1
8:23 break up fight over truck book
8:27 Facebook check number 2
8:43 Argue with 3yr old over what music is appropriate for 8:43 in the morning. He is into Green Day lately. We settle on the Beatles.
9:05 laundry started, dishes done
9:07 second mug of coffee
9:10 Facebook check number 3
9:12 CNN check number 1/E-online check number 2

And on and on it goes…

My favorite escapism lately is E-online. Ted Casablanca is an unbelievably witty hilarious gossip columnist whose gossipy secrets of Hollywood has filled many a restless hour watching Planet Earth while holding a sleeping infant/baby/toddler. (My babycakes-the-second STILL prefers to nap in my arms. I am too lazy to fight it. Its peace and quiet, you know?) I am also recently into and And oh, who could forget about Lainey Gossip. Hi-fricking-larious.

I know A LOT about celebrities.

Don’t judge. You know you do it too.

And then, yes, the occasional email that needs to go out (especially in my former consulting days) as well as the inevitable Mapquest to a playdate or, less frequently, to a moms night out location.

I wonder some days what would happen if I only had a phone. If I turned off the browser capability. I think i would lose my mind. On occasion when I lose connections, flying or out in the country, I have found myself reaching for it, did anyone email? Any particularly witty Facebook updates? And then the disappointment, oh, yes, that is right. Sigh.

The worst is when I can’t find it. God, help me, I can’t find my phone. (No, I am seriously begging God to help me find my phone at this point). It has gotten so bad my 3-year-old actually will ask me as we leave the house “Mom, do you have your phone?” (He also reminds me to remember the house keys. I sound like a lunatic now, huh?)

Really, I need help.

What are the 12 steps? Admitting you have a problem is the first I think.

There, on the road to recovery already….

Now, where did I put that thing? Jack, have you seen my phone??

No, seriously. Where is it?

Next post on a more apron-ish topic: Me and Cooking
Sunday, June 27, 2010

yoga pants.

I recently purchased two new pairs of yoga pants. Nice soft jersey knit in grey and black.

I was disturbed at how gloriously happy this purchase made me.

Yoga pants.

From Costco.

Somehow yoga pants have become the staple wear for mommies of the infamous generation X. they are stretchy and comfy and when worn with a cute t-shirt and hip-sketcher-type shoes you can look downright presentable if you happen to run into your single/adorable/in shape former office-mate at the grocery store with two kids hanging off your leg.

“Hi! God, you look great,” you say.

“Wow, Sara, its been awhile. You, ah…your kids are so cute!”

Well, one can try, can’t one?

And here is a question for this generation of mine. Do we even do yoga?

Some of us are fanatics about it of course. But I would wager that most of us wearing yoga pants to the grocery store/playdate/everywhere-in-between probably don’t.

I do actually.

Not the sweaty kind of yoga to get oneself in shape. I do the "my-arm-is-aching-from-lugging-around-my-25lb-baby" yoga, the "i-need-to-breathe-out-bad-playdate-vibes" or "my-kid-used-marker-on-the-couch-AND-peed-on-the-floor" kind of day.

Sanity saving yoga.

I have come to think of it as hallway yoga. Our past two rentals have only had carpet in the hallway so when babycakes was in bed (FINALLY) I would sneak out to the hallway with the lights on low and stretch and breathe. I found it quite helpful too when pregnant with babycakes-the-second, hanging on to walls as I attempted to double over my big belly to stretch that damn sciatica.

I should make a workout video. You would buy it, right?

So that is what I have to say about yoga and yoga pants.

Aprons, well, I have started wearing them too. I realized as I looked down at another uncomfortably wet T-shirt after washing dishes that an apron would be handy about now. So I got one out. A blue backgrounded-sunflower-covered apron.

I look ridiculous in it.

I know I do.

In fact what prompted the facebook status update that later prompted this blog is that my husband, upon seeing me in it for the first time, totally stopped mid-sentence, looked me up and down and lost his train of thought.

I could see it on his face...“What the..?”

Even if he denies it I did momentarily see it on his face.

Up until now I have been wearing my apron in secret. Only the kids have seen it on me. Babycakes-the-second wanted one too the other day so I pulled one out, doubled it over on her fat belly and sat her up on the stool to "help" me with dishes. She was quite impressed with herself. She probably thought it was like the superhero capes that babycakes-the-first pulls on and off over his head every ten minutes.

Yes baby dear. Aprons are kinda like superhero capes.

I have embraced the apron lifestyle more and more so it was only matter of time before I actually wore one I suppose.

I bake bread.

I use cloth diapers on my babies. I even sew my own.

I buy organic.

I even brew kombucha in my basement. AND my kid actually drinks it.

Before you write me off as one of those moms (or put me on a pedestal depending on your viewpoint) it would be more honest to amend the above list slightly.

I bake my own bread…when I have time.

I use cloth diapers and sew my own….because I am cheap.

I buy organic….when I can afford it... otherwise I get my veggies from my mom’s giant-ass garden or my own little background plot, again, because I am cheap.

I do brew kombucha (kick ass if I do say so myself) but I also let my kid drink soda on occassion ("ooh, mommy, its fizzy like kombucha!" he says in wonder).

Also, to confess, my kid does love the occasional Happy Meal. (“I want a TOY!”) and I happily buy it for him. And I eat a Big Mac.

So here is my blog...regarding Kombucha-drinking, McDonalds-eating, aprons-and-yoga-pants-wearing reality. Hope you have fun.
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