I used to be such a good liberal American. Years ago, I was passionate about every issue, outraged, engaged and pro-active. Ok, so predictably – yes - I was my most progressive back in my college days. But now, on the verge of 36 and home raising two young boys – what’s happened to me? Do I care enough anymore? Especially now that I have children and should be more invested in the future of our country, am I staying informed enough? Am I a good liberal mom?
Yes, back in college – the glory days – I enjoyed debate in the classroom, sought out political speaking events (and fondly remember when Alec Baldwin came to speak for the College Democrats), marched to Take Back the Night, protested all kinds of good stuff (don’t ask me what, but it was good stuff), was a proud member of a feminist A Capella group (Ani DiFranco was wonderful, required listening), and my dorm room was covered in pro-chick, anti-discriminatory, peace loving posters. Oh yeah. And I didn’t ALWAYS shave my legs. (…What? So!?)
Now fast forward fifteen (cough, sputter) years, and I ask you: when was the last time I went to a political rally?
College.
For someone who gets all uppity about political issues, this is shameful. Even during one of the most exciting elections of my lifetime, did I stand in line with the masses to go see Obama when he was in my area?
Nope.
You see, I have to keep my two year old on his nap schedule and I have to use these coupons up before they expire during a grocery trip before said nap and that nap has to happen before its time to leave and drive a half hour to get my five year old from school who is always hungry when I get there so I better have snacks packed too. …And who wants to juggle a 40 lb. two year old and a hungry five year old at a political rally anyway? Well. I don’t. Yup. I’m just not hard core enough anymore.
It bothers me that I have let my edge go. I have let my immediate life seep in and block out a lot of the larger context. Because for me, my child’s well balanced lunch and nap are ultimately, above all else, my priority.
But its not as if daily pedicures, appointments with my tennis coach (I swear I don’t have a tennis coach) and coffee dates with my girlfriends trump my interest in political issues either. Caring for my children just trumps everything. I don’t do the pedicures and coffee dates either. Well, once in awhile. In a great while. But bottom line, its about the kids right now.
Is that a cop out though? I mean, mom’s bring their kids to see politicians speak all the time. They drag them along to rallies and meetings and community organizations. Moms multi-task, they figure it out, the kids get used to it and know how they are expected to behave. Having children doesn’t mean cutting down the person you are, does it? No. So whats my problem?
Do I care less now?
No, I care more I think. So what is it?
It goes back to my previous point. It’s not really about me right now. I mean, it can be sometimes. But my full time, around the clock priority is maintaining my children’s routine, happiness, education and daily normalcy. And you know what? It’s exhausting. The air gets let out of my political sails and by the time they are asleep, my brain is simply fried. Yes, and as I sink into the couch with remote in hand, I even find myself switching from the amazing Rachel Maddow to American Idol. (Head hung in shame.) I know. I’m not proud of it. But its just my reality right now.
I don’t think it will always be like this. In fact, as my boys grow older, I see changes in my freedoms daily. I will be participating in the March of Dimes walk this year with my family for the first time because I think the kids will be fine for it. And I was able to drag my boys to one small community Obama meeting before he was elected. Sure we had to leave early due to their wrestling, but change is coming (to steal a certain liberal theme these days).
And in the meantime, I’ll step up onto my soapbox here. Writing doesn’t require packing snacks-drinks-diapers-wipes, stuffing the stroller into the trunk, getting shoes on kids, bringing games and books, strapping kids into carseats and breaking up “he’s touching me again” fights. I can still rally, speak up and speak out right here. My blog can be like a dorm room poster and my posts can be my classroom political debates. Yes. I can still do this. So while I may not be a liberal college kid anymore, I am certainly still a liberal mom.
I suppose my friend and I should have known the beach was going to be crowded yesterday. Spring Break. In Florida. I mean, c’mon. A crowded beach is a given. We arrived with our kids – four of them – and pushed through the crowds with our chairs and bags and stuff that seemed not to be all that much back home. After corralling and coaxing kids to keep up, we finally found a spot and settled in. Wall to wall bodies or not, the beach is always a welcome day of activity for our kids.
So we set up our chairs, slathered SPF on our kids, nervously trained our eagle eyes on all four children and sat back, watching, biting into our homemade sandwiches. Ok. Ah. Spring break.
Would the couple RIGHT in front of me blocking one of my children please move, for crying out loud? Wow, its crowded. Well. Ok. I see him. Pass the cheetoes.
And it was about then when I heard that certain tone in a mother’s voice somewhere behind me. I know that sound: panic. I caught sight of a mom near us, wide-eyed, pacing in circles. And then she moved down to the water.
“Where is she?!?!? ELLLA!!!!! Where is SHE??? ELLLLLLAAAAA!!!! OH MY GOD WHAT IF SHES OUT THERE SOMEWHERE?!?!?!!!” And she pointed out to the water.
By this point other mothers, friends, people were surrounding her, touching her elbow, reaching out, eyes searching too, questioning, holding their breaths, just as panicked.
“What was she wearing?”
“How old is she?”
“What color hair?”
My friend and I leapt up. She called the boys in from the water and kept them at our seats. I started moving down the beach.
“A four year old girl is missing. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top. Four year old girl. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top. Four year old girl. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top.”
More parents leapt up. More people yelling her description. Children were gathered close. All eyes were searching.
And Ella’s mother behind me. I could hear her panic. Her voice. She was screaming her name. My heart pulled tight.
“Four year old girl. Blond hair. Purple shorts. Floral top.”
Ella’s mom tore past me, she was crying now, searching searching searching down the beach.
“WHERE IS SHE?????? ELLLLLLAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!”
I couldn’t help but stop and turn around. I looked out into the water. Lots of people. Did I see blond hair, purple shorts and a floral top? What was that!?!? No. Birds.
I moved back to our spot on the beach. My friend and I looked at each other.
“I’m shaking.”
“So am I.”
The kids were confused.
“Why can’t we go swimming?”
“Stay RIGHT HERE.”
It could have been one of ours. Ella’s mother could have been either of us. Just like that. In one impossibly fast moment. A child could be gone.
So we stood there. We couldn’t SIT. A little girl was missing. I’m not sure how long we stood there. It reminded me of Zebras I used to watch in Africa. During danger, they gather their young and surround them, pointing their rumps to them, facing out, stopped, searching, ready for anything. And that’s what we did. She looked one way and I another, with all four children sitting at our ankles.
“…..they found her!”
Someone yelled in the distance that they found her.
“Really?”
“That’s what I heard. Someone just yelled it down the beach.”
“Did they find her?”
“That’s what I just heard.”
And then, in the distance, I saw Ella’s mother. In her arms, wrapped around her body, was a little girl with blond hair, purple shorts and a floral shirt. Ella’s face was buried in her mother’s neck. Her mother had her hand on the back of her little girl’s head – pressing Ella to her – and was walking slowly back down the beach. Sobbing. Smiling. Nodding to people she passed.
“Yes. I got her. Thank you. Yes, I am very relieved.” Shuddering, crying, laughing.
When she got to us, I fought back tears. Along with all the mothers around us, we stepped forward to reach out again.
“Ella, are you ok?”
She lifted her face from her mother’s neck, her big wet blue eyes stared back. She nodded. She held tightly on to her mother.
Oh thank God. She was ok. Oh thank God.
My friend and I started breathing again. We laughed nervously. Regrouped a bit. We herded the kids back down to the water, gave them back their shovels and sat gratefully back into our seats. Eyes locked on all four heads.
“I’m shaking.”
“So am I. Holy crap.”
“Where are those Cheetoes.”
Children go missing on beaches all the time. I am not sure what it was about this moment that struck a chord so deeply. Well, maybe I do. I couldn’t help but think of Maddie for some reason. Not another little girl. Gone. Just like that. I couldn’t help but put myself in that mother’s position, like I have with Heather. But like the events after Maddie’s passing, I was amazed to watch mothers in action. Those moms dropped everything to get the word out Ella was gone. They searched, they comforted, they worried. Yesterday and since Maddie has passed, my heart has been so touched to watch the incredible act of mothers taking care of other mothers. It is a powerful and stunning example of beauty, kindness, empathy and love.
So once again, I know to bring my boys closer and appreciate their craziness and all that comes with it. All is well in our life. We are fine. No zebra circling today. And since all is well with our lives, we can look out for and reach out to other mothers who need our support right now.
Heather Spohr’s family must raise $7,000 for her daughter Maddie’s funeral. Donations may be sent to a paypal account in her name at: formaddie@hotmomreviews.com . Services will be held for Maddie on Tuesday, April 14th at 2:30pm at Old North Church, Forest Lawn, in Hollywood Hills. All are welcome to attend. Please wear purple in her honor. Also, a website with links and information about Maddie have been set up here.
In the final week of Women’s History Month, I have decided to tackle a topic that has been on my mind for awhile. It is not so much a topic actually but rather an item of clothing. A few years back, my father returned from his time in Afghanistan with a gift. He brought his westernized, feminist, know it all daughter something extraordinary and like nothing I owned. He brought me a burqa. I want to share this burqa with you and try to respectfully encourage some awareness about the experience of wearing this article of clothing in a country very different from our own.
Truth be told, this is my second burqa. When I was a child, my father went to Afghanistan and brought me back a smaller burqa, one that actually fit on one of my Barbie’s perfectly. This burqa seemed part of another world, a piece of clothing I didn’t exactly understand but my Barbie wore from time to time while she went about her very important Barbie business.
While I was pregnant with my second child, my father brought me my second burqa. This time is was large enough for me to wear. I couldn‘t thank him enough, I was grateful to finally own one myself.
Why would that be?
First let me explain the burqa – or try to. The burka is worn by women in Afghanistan. Traditionally, it has been expected that women cover themselves entirely in a burqa whenever in public. It is said to be a matter of honor and one both men and women have upheld respectfully. And while this tradition has given way to western influences and fashion trends in recent years – perhaps with simple head coverings rather than a full length burqa – the Taliban do enforce the burka. In fact, in the eyes of the Taliban, it has meant a woman’s death if she doesn’t wear one in public. Regardless, enforced or not, women in provinces all over Afghanistan wear these coverings. (Please note that women cover themselves in many Islamic countries also, each garment having different names and social expectations.)
Are you a mother? If so, imagine yourself doing what you do: working, chasing down children, doing errands, cleaning, cooking, caring for your families entirely covered head to toe in a burka while in public. It is an awesome feat. Whether a cultural choice or not, I truly respect the women who wear them.
But you see this is all I understand about the burqa. I know what my father tells me and what I have read in books. So what do I really know or truly understand about its history or its meaning – positive or otherwise? I don’t. All that I do know now is what it feels like to wear one – and that has only been briefly.
(Oh yes, here I am. A privileged, American woman – annoyed when she has to wear a bra in public – and now I have a burqa and I want to see what its like. Groan. How condescending that sounds. But I don’t mean it that way. I am simply wanting to learn, to get it, to share this experience, if only for a moment.)
So I have tried on my burqa many times and here is what this western woman experienced. First of all, the burqa is hot. I guess they used to be made of more breathable cotton but newer ones are made with synthetic material so that they keep their color and their creases. And it is very hard to see through the burqa, but maybe I’m just not used to it. Also I initially thought my head was really big because the top of the burqa did not fit on my head well, it was constricting. After doing further research, I have learned this is typical for most women wearing one and it is not comfortable at all. And finally, its not at all easy to breathe in. There is no vent for the nose or mouth. I just can’t breathe in it for long. That’s why I always take it right off. I can’t breathe. I feel claustrophobic and closed in. So chasing children? Carrying food back from the store? I can’t imagine.
Now I am sure there are readers ready to discuss the matter of women’s repression in Afghanistan. And I am sure there are readers who feel offended by any lack of respect for the burqa and its place in Afghanistan tradition. While I certainly have my views, my post is not meant to judge the purpose behind the burqa. I am simply sharing the experience of a burqa, an experience many women have daily and I don’t. If you ever have the chance to try one on, please do if only to honor a woman’s lifestyle someplace far from our streets of Main Street, U.S.A.
And finally, a quick note. Do you know where I keep my burqa? It is kept in my closet, draped over the box which contains my carefully preserved wedding dress. It just seems fitting. After all, we too wear constricting garments which are expected of us. It’s just what women do here.
Sometimes I start into my day only to realize the world is out to get me. Before the sun has even begun to peak through the trees beyond our back ponds, I have got it alllll figured out – the universe has my backside in its cross hairs.
Oh, you think I’m over reacting? I’m not. This is real. This is war and apparently I am decidedly the axis of evil. Stay on my side, ok? Don’t turn against me too. We need to round up our forces. Let me repeat myself. The world is out to get me. Help.
Here’s what happens. When I wake up on those mornings, right away I know. Something isn’t quite right. As soon as they run out to the living room, my pajama clad children have upped their whines to decibels which call dogs for miles. I know their shtick. They probably have it all planned (you know, who would nag me about what and for how long) way before I get them out of bed. Oh and one of my boys has coincidentally sprouted a cold- green boogers flowing forth, awaiting my tissue. What – did he spend the entire day before licking shopping cart handles in preparation?
And then I arrive in the kitchen and the dishes are certainly dirtier than they were when I went to bed. What? Was my husband up late night dirtying extra plates just for fun? And no PRE-RINSE!?!?!!!!! No pre-rinse??? So now its all crusted FOREVER!!!!!! I’m speechless.
And what was that? The garbage men have come and gone a full hour before they normally do? Oh, right. Bloody typical. And then, while I try and make a hasty one slipper on, one slipper off mad dash out to the corner with the trash anyway, the whole thing dumps over. Someone over filled it, someone broke its wheel, someone wants to make me miserable.
Don’t you SEE whats going on here?
I know then and there, while my children pretend not to scheme behind my back over their bowls of cereal, its time to get my game face on. Oh yeah. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know when someone has pasted a “drive me frickin’ nuts today” sign on my back. I can hear the snickering from my children, my husband, the trash men. I know their game.
And then my husband emerges and my anger turns inward. He hasn’t even made eye contact. He hasn’t even said good morning. He hardly knows I exist.
I look like shit, don’t I?
That’s right. My husband doesn’t even think his own wife is attractive. What should I expect. Not like I even have time to look nice EVER. Not like we ever GO on any DATES or anything so why should I bother, right? I’m going to be 36 this year. I am merely the dried up, raisin husk of the woman he married 9 years go.
“Good morning.” He says. Pffft. If you say so. Don’t toy with me. There will be no response back, thank you very much.
Shoes are lost. Uniform shirts aren’t clean. SOMEONE forgot to tell me the yogurt drinks for packed lunches are out (what am I, a mind reader). The cat is clawing the priceless Afghan carpet (that my father brought home from Kabul, hand woven by a woman with nothing and here my cat CLAWS at it?!?!). And I am pretty sure it’s going to be overcast and cool today. (Hello? It’s Florida!? We don’t DO imperfect weather.)
And my husband thinks I am unattractive. I don’t get on the Wii Fit enough. I keep eating those damn Hershey’s kisses. What is it with the chocolate lately? And I am quite sure it was planted in my house to make me fat anyway.
Fine so then my husband and son leave for the day. Fine. Just leave me here. Alone with my tantruming two year old where we will be stuck in “same shit, different groundhog day” hell. In 10 minutes I am going to get hassled for a snack and “not that one, not that one either, NOOOOO not THAT one NOOOOOO!!!!!” In an hour I am going to be picking up what didn’t get in a potty. Awesome. And in 5 hours and 23 minutes, I will spend 56 minutes battling said child, wooing him to nap while he refuses to and immediately loses his mind because in actuality he needs that frickin nap like I need my sanity. Like I need those bloody Hershey’s kisses. (Guess whats for lunch.) So good-bye husband. Dessert me again. Go enjoy adults and conversation and quiet trips to the bathroom BY YOURSELF.
Oh and I need to write. That’s right. I need to find inspiration and get about five posts written. Because I need to bust my ass for a job that pays me chump change on a GOOD day. Right. So lets figure out what I’m going to write. Ok. While I sit here alone on groundhog day and get repeatedly whacked by a light saber. Sure. There are so many interesting things to write about that inspire me daily. WHACK. Yes, so many new and fascinating things which happen in my very own house that I must write them ALL down. WHACK. I am simply brimming with inspiration. WHACK WHACK.
So finally, I give up. A shower is my only hope. A shower always helps. Assuming there is still hot water. Assuming the soap isn’t all out leaving me with an empty container in its place or my two year old doesn’t decide to pull the entire entertainment system down on top of himself right when I turn on the water because that could very well happen – he’s plotting it all right now I tell you, cackling evilly to himself.
So, however resigned, I wander into the bathroom. And there I see it. A blue plastic case, popped open and… empty but for the last week of placebo pills.
So I am quite sure by now that I do in fact have a blogger guardian angel. No, I do. And I need to light a candle on her behalf every night and thank her for all she brings my way.
So what is it this time?
Well. I was emailed by a friend/colleague/reader of mine the other day and asked if I would like to be part of an phone interview with (here it is, folks…) Chandra Wilson. She is the enormously talented actor who plays Dr. Bailey on “Greys Anatomy”. It turns out she is a spokesperson for the Treat With Care Campaign and is working with the Consumer Healthcare Products Association to advocate for the safe use of children’s over the counter medication. Would I be interested in participating in the call and interviewing her as a mom blogger?
Um. Yeah. I think so.
Some quick back story here. Now, like households everywhere, I watch “Greys” regularly. It’s a fabulous show. But here’s the thing. Of ALL the characters (McSteamys and McDreamys included), my stand alone, top of the pile, absolute favorite character on that show is Dr. Bailey. Her character is an incredible example of a smart, witty, relatable hard working mother who digs in and scraps for what she believes in. I stand by Dr. Bailey with every episode. Just ask my husband. When the credits roll, I clutch a couch pillow to my heart and confess my solidarity with Dr. Bailey. She simply rocks that show.
And last Friday I got to interview her.
That couch pillow? Yeah, it kind of got thrown in the air a bit.
Ok. So down to the nitty gritty. What is the Treat With Care Campaign all about?
Before we start, I must confess something. I am not sure if this deems me as being highly unprofessional, but I didn’t write down the conversation word for word so I could transcribe the interview exactly as it went here. Sorry about that folks. Color me a wee bit star struck, I got caught up in the convo – talking and writing just wasn’t going to happen. But I did take notes and will do my damnedest to do it all justice here for you. So here we go. (And its a little long but like I care. It’s Chandra Wilson for pete’s sake!)
Once we all called in, we heard a little bit from the Consumer Healthcare Products Association (CHPA). They are a non-profit, consumer focused association supported by the makers of many over the counter medications (OTCs). The Treat With Care Campaign is their initiative to encourage the safe use of children’s OTCs. The USFDA recently changed its OTC recommendations and now suggests they be used for children 4 and older (as opposed to previous labels recommending use for ages 2 and older). And with that, Chandra Wilson was introduced to us as their spokesperson for the Treat With Care Campaign and we were welcomed to ask her questions.
Chandra greeted us all and I couldn’t help but smile. I know that voice! She was very encouraging and certainly seemed happy to speak with us. So, as I gathered myself, rallying whatever bit of professionalism I had, I couldn’t help but think the following:
“Its Dr. frigging BAILEY!!! Ok, she sounds cool. In fact, she seems a whole lot sweeter than what I expected. Like the softer, gentler, more relaxed twin of Dr. Bailey. And shes a mom! And here she is just chatting away with us! Bah! Must not freak out but I SO TOTALLY AM!”
Breathe.
So then it was my turn to ask a question. Anxious, shameless and a little bit starstruck, I jumped right in. As a mother of a 3 year old, I asked her how this campaign has changed how she cares for her son when he has a cough or cold.
She explained to us it has changed her life a great deal. Before, she never thought twice about about treating her child’s cough or cold the way she might treat her own. But since becoming involved in this campaign, she has learned the following tips:
Read labels and never give your child more than the recommended dose
Store medications out of reach AND out of sight of your children. The flavors can be enticing, so she even turns the labels with the cute grapes inward
Never use an OTC for children younger than the recommended age of four or under (unless prescribed otherwise by a doctor)
Never use adult medications for children
Never use any medication for the purpose of making your child sleepy
(Can I just say here that as she was carefully listing these tips, I started slipping back into a “Greys” state of mind. Since she is clearly informed about this topic, she suddenly sounded a little more like Dr. Bailey and I had better listen to these points or else she was going to get the Chief involved and make us interns pay! …Oh for crying outloud. SNAP OUT OF IT CAROLINE! Sheeesh.)
She then talked about how she works hard to focus on nutrition and hydration when her child is sick. And when her little one is truly miserable, she always refers to her Pediatrician for cough or cold medications.
So with the new OTC recommendations, I know that I have been nervous about using any OTCs at all for my children. Are they really safe?
Well, she explained that the problems have occured when parents have misused OTCs or children have taken OTCs on their own and over-dosed. In fact, the FDA found this was occurring more often with children under the age of 4, hence the changes on labels. She told us that this campaign is simply just a good reminder to everyone about how to use OTCs – they are safe if they are used correctly.
So should we always ask a pediatrician before we use an OTC, even if the child is over 4?
(Ugh, duh, was this a stupid question? Whatever. I asked it.)
She said that we should use our common sense as parents. But yes, certainly discuss the use of any meds with our pediatrician. She has found that since she has been involved in this campaign, she always contacts her pediatrician whenever she is in doubt – it’s always better to be safe than sorry.
The other bloggers asked questions too of course, and she was so nice to everyone. (Although I do feel a bit guilty. Maybe I asked too many questions? Maybe I jumped in there too often? My apologies to the other bloggers, I think I sort of lost my mind a bit. Ok. Let it go.) But ultimately, she came back to the same points I’ve already mentioned and made sure to underscore the importance of using OTCs safely. Then the CHPA rep asked us if we had any further questions.
Heh. I did, of course. (Shocker of all shockers.)
I asked Chandra that I was pretty sure all of our readers would love to know how she balances being a mother with such a demanding career.
She explained that she has a great support team in place. She has a day to day schedule and tries to stick with it. And while she has a plan in place, she always makes room for the human factor. Things can change daily and she tries to accommodate accordingly. Sometimes her kids might come to work or maybe one has to get to camp – whatever it is, she just tries to make room for it just like we all do.
And with that, it was time to say good-bye.
Ack. So what did I do? I couldn’t help myself.
While I was thanking her, I just had to get a little gushy. (Groan.) I blurted out that I really appreciate the character she plays since she is a hardworking mother, and she sets such an important example. She said that’s why she loves Dr. Bailey too – she’s real, strong but certainly not perfect. I told her I think that shes fantastic in her role and thanked her for it. And she was so damn nice back. She really was. Did I make a fool of myself gushing a bit there? Eh, maybe. Probably. But who cares. You know why? She has brought such a great character to my Thursday evenings, she SHOULD be thanked you know?
(Ok, Chandra? If luck would have it and you are reading this? I really mean it. Thank you. Dr. Bailey is a fantastic character. And sure sure, its because there are amazing writers for Greys but REALLY. It is *YOU* who makes Dr. Bailey who she is. YOU bring this character to life. You have reached so many people with your fabulous acting and I just have to say it again. Thank you.)
Stop laughing at me, readers o’ mine. Its ok, I can gush NOW. Its my blog, so I can be out of my mind now, its kind of what I do here, right?
But really, the best part of the whole conversation was just how real and relaxed it was. Because she is not a doctor, she is a working mom just like so many of us. We laughed about our kids, we swapped stories, we talked about how important it is to protect our children. And at the end of our half hour, I was a little sad to say good-bye.
So, if you want to see more of Chandra, here are a couple clips you should watch. First, here is the Treat With Care OTC PSA.
And then, this is the real “non Dr. Bailey” Chandra on Ellen. How cool is she? No, really! She is so damn cool, a mom like us, she loves her soaps and she doesn’t know how to work her TIVO. Yup, I really heart her. (I know, enough with the gushing, but I can’t make any more of a fool of myself here than I already have right?…) – so… rock on Chandra!!!
Thank you again, Chandra Wilson and CHPA for this opportunity.
This is my thirdpost in a series written to honor Women’s History Month. My life has been profoundly influenced and affected by women writing and advocating on my behalf. And now, as I spend my days in a thinking, blogging, posting frenzy, I fancy myself a writer of sorts too. So, it’s high time I acknowledge the women that inspire. Here is my list of top 20 recommended women political bloggers, in no particular order.
Before we get started, please note that I did ask my fellow bloggers and readers who they read also. So this list includes my favorites along with those who have been recommended to me.
Ok then. Here we go.
1. Momocrats: While this is in no particular order, I still must put the Momocrats at the top of my list. As hardworking mothers and progressive thinkers, it often seems as if these women are speaking and advocating exclusively on my behalf when I read their posts. They are amazing writers, they know what they are talking about and the world is sitting up to listen to them.
2. Punditmom is my “go to” political blogger. When something is going down, I want to know what a smart, liberal minded, feminist pundit has to say about it. PM comes through for me every time. And sometimes you’ll even catch her speaking her mind on CNN and Fox too.
3. Julie Pippert is probably smarter than all of us put together. She’s extremely well informed, passionate about her politics and is a mother like so many of us.
4. Queen of Spain is kind of political blogger celeb in my mind. She landed an interview with President Obama during the election and has been seen on TV and at major political events ever since.
5. Writes Like She Talks is a fantastic political blogger and has written for Newsweek.com, has made several appearances on CNN and is a columnist. She is certainly a political blogger to be reckoned with.
6. Sairy is a Momocrat who’s found herself reporting from a White House Press conference, amongst other things. Here is her full bio – she is an important voice worth following.
7. Angry Black Bitch: Straight forward, very brilliant and never afraid, I met Shark-Fu on my first day of BlogHer 08 and have been reading her ever since.
8. Viva La Feminista writes as a feminist, Latina and mother – her voice is powerful, her message is important.
9. Mombian is an established lesbian family blog which discusses political topics affecting rights (or lack thereof) for same sex parents.
10. Feministing “is an online community for feminists and their allies.” The women here have created a talented and diverse community as they advocate for equal and human rights.
Other blogs recommended to me:
11. Citizen Jane Politics is described as an un-partisan, independent, political blog from women.
12. Blonder Than You is a DC blogger shooting straight from the hip, so to speak.
13. Women Wired In is a blog created for and about women, politics and technology.
14. Bang the Drum describes herself as a die-hard democrat and political junkie. She’s also a mom of three and lives in CA.
16. The Feministe: To quote directly from their bio, “Feministe is one of the oldest feminist blogs designed by and run by women from the ground up.” Now go read it.
17. The Little Pink Clubhouse claims that she has a “consuming interest in politics” and writes from a small town outside Seattle.
18. HeartFeldt Politics is written by Gloria Feldt, a women’s activist whose voice is heard – and read – everywhere from the Huffington Post to the New York Times.
19. Womanist is written by a mother who describes herself as a pacifist, anti-racist and humanist – oh yeah, and a woman-ist.
20. The Political Voices of Women: If 20 women political bloggers just aren’t enough for you, check out the Political Voices of Women where you will find over 500 women telling it how it is.
For all that these bloggers do to keep me informed and advocate on my behalf, I am grateful. Happy Women’s History Month to all of these political bloggers and the women they reach.
So while changing a funky diaper this morning, I happened to have on the Today Show. I usually get about a half hour with Meredith and Matt before I am onto other things in my day. And it was probably going to be switched off right after that diaper change had I not heard the intro to a series about “Digital Moms”.
Wait a second. That’s me!
C’s “Pull Up” got pulled up right quick, I hastily ushered him over to his favorite chalk board and ran back to turn up the volume. And this is what I watched.
Initially I was excited. Yes, here’s focus being given to moms and all that they can do from home and online! So cool!
Um… hold on. Did the Today Show really portray what a “digital mom” is truly all about?
I know its only the first part of the series but so far, I am a little disappointed. Here are my thoughts.
First of all, every woman should in fact follow Laura Fortner’s advice. Yes, use the Internet anyway you need to. If that means finding support groups while you wrestle life as a parent, do it. By all means. Its WAY cheaper than therapy. I’ve got great online friends who have supported me through good and bad. I get it. Women SHOULD connect this way.
And I most certainly use twitter and facebook socially (as well as to promote what I do). In this bloggy world, you have to make personal connections with people if anyone is to take you seriously. That’s the irony about blogging. While it seems rather anti-social to work alone at a computer – it is actually interactive, personal work. But twitter and facebook are certainly not the be all and end all for me. I take no issue if that’s all some moms use the Internet for, just as long as twitter and facebook aren’t what “digital moms” are defined by.
However, the Today Show seemed to portray the digital mom as a social Internet butterfly flitting from one social network to another, hardly offering anything of much value, prioritizing their iphones and laptops over time with their children.
And here’s the funny thing. Businesses and PR companies actually get what digital moms are all about. (Think back to that all expenses paid trip to NYC I just went on.) Why do they get it? Because mothers are the ones spending the money and digital moms are the ones writing about where they spend it. And digital moms are not some untrained variety of advertisers, happy to plug any product for free stuff. These moms tell it how it is, the good, the bad and the ugly. Consumers are drawn to these women’s perspectives because they write well, they write from the heart and lots of people follow what they have to say.
But I do have to say this. The Today Show isn’t the only one scrambling to get it. As my friend Mary pointed out to me today, you have to be in it, to get it. And that is so true. I can’t tell you how many times my friends eyes glaze over when I talk about blogging. And I take no offense at all. Because writing and connecting and working online isn’t everyone’s bag. We all do our own thing, its all good.
But if you are a news source, wouldn’t you try a little harder to get it and not just piece together a cute story about what seems to be a new cyber hobby for bored moms?
So anyway, its only the start of a series. Maybe I have my panties in a bunch way too soon. I could be jumping the gun, this could be really great for all digital moms. Still, I did send a message to @todayshow on Twitter today asking them to consider attending the Blogher conference in Chicago. If they still don’t get it by the end of this series, that conference will set them straight. BlogHer represents the diversity, the smarts and the know how of real digital moms today. And it’s something to be reckoned with.
Well, I’ve had my say. I promise to stay tuned into the series. (Wendy aka @eMom will be on tomorrow. I was lucky enough to meet her at Seaworld. Go Wendy!) I will certainly post later in the week with my perspective once again. “Oh great”, I hear you groan.
As I’ve mentioned before, my entire NYC Vivienne Tam experience with HP allowed this uber practical, coupon clipping, “never splurges on self” mommy to enjoy the luxury of a few beautiful things. It wasn’t something for my children or my family – it was just for me. Honestly folks, it’s unheard of around the parts. I am still so appreciative.
And now I want to share a small part of this experience with you. HP has graciously given me three Vivienne Tam HP Wireless mice to giveaway here on Morningside Mom. (Did you know they aren’t even available for purchase in the U.S.?) I am thrilled to be able to share a little bit of beautiful with you all.
How do you enter? Simply leave a comment below explaining how everyday working, parenting, budgeting women can take care of themselves when they so often forget to. I will pick three inspiring comments and announce the winners on Friday, March 6th.
And one last bit of trivia about Vivienne Tam before I sign off. The enter key on the VT HP mini has a chinese symbol on it. Do you know what it means? It means “Double Happiness”. And now doesn’t that just make so much sense? I hope this giveaway brings a small bit of happiness to three of you.
Good luck!
**UPDATE – WE HAVE THREE WINNERS!**
Congrats to our three winners: Cami, Chandra and Carol! They wrote inspiring comments and I encourage you all to read them. In fact, I would encourage you to take a moment to read every comment here – what fantastic advice for women to follow. Thank you to everyone who participated, it means so much that you took the time to share this wisdom.
Do you know that feeling when you watch reality shows like “Extreme Home Makeover” and you see amazing things happen for people and you say out loud “that sort of stuff never happens to me”? Or how about the reality show ”What Not to Wear”. Have you ever wondered what it would be like to wear really nice clothes instead of jelly smeared jeans? I know these sorts of shows well. I watch, I smile and I think “not in a million years”.
Well, during my time in NYC, I kind of had an “Extreme Home Makeover / What Not to wear” moment. A real one. I think it would have made a great reality show actually. And it all has to do with Vivienne Tam.
As you know by now, I spent 4 amazing days in New York City for fashion week thanks to the folks at Buzz Corps, HP and Vivienne Tam. The entire experience in itself was “reality show” worthy in that this sort of stuff *SO* does not happen to me. I spent every day thanking everyone around me. I thanked drivers (oh wait I hugged him too), door holders, hotel folks, waiters, even random people I passed on the streets for slightly stepping out of my way. I was so damn grateful to be there. Every crack and crevice I happened upon heard my gratitude, loud and clear.
But then something even more amazing happened to all the bloggers on this trip. “What? MORE?!” I hear you mumble. Yes, more. We were given a gift.
We started out mid morning in our shuttle not exactly knowing where we were headed. When we pulled up to Vivienne Tam’s boutique, it was familiar to us after having been there the night before for her show. So we stepped out of the bus and walked in, curious. The entire space had changed into a “store” with racks of her dresses lined up, mannequins dressed, shoes and bags on display. We all wandered around, happy to see the goods in daylight for better pictures and also excited to see more of her line. We snapped pics, picked out favorites, held them up to each other, laughed at the possibilities and moved along.
And then Alan Wang, the Vivienne Tam boutique manager and all around very nice man, got our attention. He stood at the front of the store and thanked us for being here this week. He told us how much Vivienne Tam truly appreciates our support and that she recognizes the important work we do. And as a symbol of her gratitude, she would like to give us a gift. Each of us were welcome to pick out one dress. To keep.
Blank stares. It dawns on us. Mouths drop. Rushed whispering. Quiet squeals. And then me, “Can I hug you right now?”
I am not sure what he said next (although I remember that he diplomatically ignored my invitation for a hug, smart man), but it had begun to sink in. Kind of. We could pick a dress in that room to take home. To wear. To have. To feel fabulous in.
And we were off. Some spending time carefully considering. Others leaping on the handbags and shoes (understandably). And then there was me who grabbed one dress and dashed for the dressing room. What if they changed their minds? Quick. Let me get this on and out the door before they decide this isn’t such a great idea.
I wound up with the second dress I tried on. I truly felt amazing in it. I ran around the store in it. I teared up. Three times. Shamelessly. My friend Moosh in Indy saw my Hanes her Way and that’s cool by me. This was serious business. I got an amazing dress. A Vivienne Tam dress. Glamorous pieces of clothing like this just don’t exist in my life. But now one does. (And it is laughing at everything else in my closet as I write this.)
So what happened next? Just wait. Yes, there’s more.
That night we were welcome to attend another event back at the Vivienne Tam boutique. This was the official launch of the Vivienne Tam Hp Mini. Another night on the town? What better excuse to don our fab dresses. And that we did.
I also brought my VT HP Mini with me. I just figured it would be good to have it since that evening was all about it.
And so what happens? Vivienne Tam arrives, speaks to her guests and then offers to sign anyone’s computers. So now, under my right hand in the bottom corner of my Mini, is Vivienne Tam’s signature. She signed it for me and you know what she said to me? She said I was so beautiful in her dress.
Wow. This mom with jelly smeared jeans and a leaking sippy cup in her purse could be beautiful.
It was a moment. To be sure.
And that’s what the dress and the computer have come to represent. Women running around managing the insanity of their lives, elbow deep in dirty boy socks and sticky pots of mac and cheese DO deserve nice things. A dress like this, a computer like this – well, they are simply special things. Little bits of fabulous that remind you that you are actually “worthy” – socks and mac n cheese aside.
So I had that “What not to Wear” moment. And staying true to the thanking theme of my week, I thanked Vivienne Tam that night. I thanked her for making me feel more beautiful and special than I had in years.
My gratitude is endless, my heart is full and my sense of beautiful is in check.
For that (just one more time) I say: Thank you.
For more information about the HP products I review, please visit my HP Update page.
Being a mom is boring. Its just lame. Its not interesting. It is about as exciting as watching paint dry. And before you start commenting up a storm about how untrue this is, how mothers are unsung heroes and need all the props in the world – well, I actually wholeheartedly agree with you. But still, in the eyes of the world, when a mother starts talking about her day, said world’s eyes glaze right over. And you know I’m right.
Here’s the irony. While a mother’s day might be considered lame, it is actually fast paced and filled with action. A typical day might include learning how to change a poopy diaper while using every one of your limbs to pin that child so they don’t get up or take a swipe at something they shouldn’t. Or how about making 2 lunches at the same time while piercing shrieks are directed right at you. Cold sweat anyone? Or many don’t realize that mothers play goalie many afternoons, keeping balls from rolling into streets or going over fences. Or try shopping with kids. You want excitement? I’ll give you excitement.
But when a friend or family member or even someone who does technically care very much asks you “How was your day?” Just try and rehash what you did. Try and explain how tough that poopy diaper was. How many times you had to put your two year old back into time out. How you had to pick grapes out of the speaker. No matter what adventure you had been on that day that challenged you to your wits end, one thing remains true…
It’s boring.
Yup, rehashing a mother’s day just does not get anyone’s pulse racing. I don’t know why but its the truth. Its as if something is lost in translation.
“And you should have seen him, writhing around, I had each of my feet pinning his legs and the wipes in one hand and I was leaning on his body, he kicked me once in the head (luckily the bleeding wasn’t too bad) BUT I got it all, I got ALL the poop off his ass! Amazing, huh?”
*Crickets*
Boring. Lame. It’s not interesting.
So where does that leave mothers? When that’s all they do? When all that they have accomplished is simply reflected in clean, fed, healthy, sleeping children at the end of a day? Well, its leaves them with just that. Clean, fed, healthy sleeping children. And expecting some kind of award, or oohing and ahhing for this achievement, just won’t get you anywhere. Don’t be bitter. It’s your gig now. There is not a lot of positive feedback and there are no bonuses for extra time put in. The reality is folks don’t really want to hear about every single detail and I’m afraid that makes it pretty damn isolating. Sorry. I know we deserve red carpets and gold trophies - but that’s just the way it is.
Now don’t get me wrong. I love being home with my kids. I know how lucky I am to have this time with them. Its just, well, I can’t expect anyone who wasn’t there next to me changing that poopy diaper to really give a crap (so to speak).
Mothers are lame. Healthy, clean, fed, sleeping children certainly are NOT. But mothers and their adventures are, no bones about it, *yawn*, next subject please, laaaame.
And you know what’s even more lame? A post about moms talking about their days and how lame that is. Is anyone even reading this? Bueller? …Bueller?
(Oh and one more thing. If you think you get crickets telling people what you do home with your kids all day, try telling them you blog. *Blink* Maybe my next post needs to be titled “But Bloggers are REALLY Lame.”)
In the final week of Women’s History Month, I have decided to tackle a topic that has been on my mind for awhile. It is not so much a topic actually but rather an item of clothing. A few years back, 
So I have tried on my burqa many times and here is what this western woman experienced. First of all, the burqa is hot. I guess they used to be made of more breathable cotton but newer ones are made with synthetic material so that they keep their color and their creases. And it is very hard to see through the burqa, but maybe I’m just not used to it. Also I initially thought my head was really big because the top of the burqa did not fit on my head well, it was constricting. 
And finally, a quick note. Do you know where I keep my burqa? It is kept in my closet, draped over the box which contains my carefully preserved wedding dress. It just seems fitting. After all, we too wear constricting garments which are expected of us. It’s just what women do here.
So I am quite sure by now that I do in fact have a blogger guardian angel. No, I do. And I need to light a candle on her behalf every night and thank her for all she brings my way.
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