Saturday, June 21, 2008

My husband would rather sit on the curb then attend the village that is BlogHer '08

My husband informed me while we were in bed, as I was falling into an exhausted slumber, that he is going to Boston. When is he going? At the exact same time I'm supposed to go to BlogHer '08, and he was supposed to watch the kids. Of course he forgot - his social secretary function never works.

The reason I'm telling you this is because it resulted in a discussion about what BlogHer '08 is, and he found out it is mostly women bloggers. And, that led to me telling him a story about talking to a senior partner at my firm about blogging. Both my husband and the senior partner don't really know what blogging is or that there is an extensive blogosphere, and dismiss it as a fad. I attempted to tell my husband a funny story about talking with the senior partner about tweeting, but my husband interrupted me:

"Just tell me the reader's digest version. It's 11 o'clock."

"But it isn't as funny if I condense it. And your the one that started this conversation this late."

"Reader's digest version."

So, I obliged him. Which wasn't funny. 3 sentences instead of several paragraphs. And then I had an epiphany.

"You and [senior partner] aren't interested in blogging because you want the reader's digest version of life. No emotional bonding and sharing." And I think that is it. Or at least a part of it. I like the community. I think mommy blogging is such a hit because we all want help, or at least to feel like we are not alone. I like knowing I'm not the only one having certain problems or thoughts. It takes a village to raise a child - and this is our village. So I shared this thought with my husband. And then, back to our conversation about the logistics of him going to Boston and the children. And, I asked him if wanted to go to the BlogHer '08 on Saturday if he was flying in late Friday night. My emotionally-stunted husband's reply?

"Attend a conference with a thousand women bloggers talking about blogging? I'd rather sit on the curb in front of the hotel the entire day."

And he has no idea with tweeting is.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

The Smack Talking Wii Fit 'Bot Sucks!

The Wii Fit 'bot sucks. For those of you not obsessed with Wii Fit, the 'bot weighs you and measures your BMI, and then keeps track of your fitness progress. You are suppose to check the progress of your weight and BMI every so often, which I did last night.

And the Wii Fit 'bot told me I had gained 1.7 pounds, which was NOT my goal. I'm trying to lose weight, not gain it.

But I knew I had gained weight. I always do when it is that time of the month. But I didn't really think about it when I did my body fitness test on the stupid Wii Fit.

So, after telling me I had gained weight, the f-ing Wii Fit 'bot asked me if I knew why I had gained weight. And gave me several helpful reasons from which to choose. But, I'm guessing having been programmed by young boys in their 20's not particularly concerned about the emotional health of us post-children women, there wasn't a response provided for "that time of the month" or "the curse" or "I'm having my period!" So, I picked "I don't know" as my reason - that being the closest thing to I've gained some weight because I'm having my period.

The Wii Fit 'bot's response: "You mean you really don't know why you've gained weight."

Yes, I know, but you don't, you stupid thing, because some pimple-faced, skinny geek boy programmed your stupid responses, and he obviously wasn't thinking about ALL of the reasons you can gain weight. Obviously, the stupid thing was programmed by a not particularly sensitive individual, because the Miis get fat if you are fat. Like I needed that!

Am I supposed to take smack from the 'bot?

Sunday, June 15, 2008

I love Wii Fit!

My husband got a Wii for Father's Day. Actually, although it was for Father's Day, he got it two weeks ago or so because my darling, curious son (ha!) found it in the back of the minivan, and had to show his dad. So, my husband got his present early. I tracked down the Wii Fit after pestering several Game Stops daily until I managed to call right when a delivery had arrived.

And I LOVE it. I don't love that the stupid 'bot told me I'm fat. Hey, I already knew that - that is why I bought the stupid game. And why exactly did the stupid 'bot have to make my Mii fat? (Okay, and if you really don't want anybody to know your weight or BMI, you can lock your weight and other statistics with a PIN - which I did.) But I really like the yoga, the hula hoop, the step and a bunch of other stuff. I've worked out more in the last several days than I have in years (unless giving birth counts . . . it should, don't you think?) So if you were on the fence about buying it, I encourage you to get it.

And did you know you could make the eyebrows into horns by twisting them around?

Saturday, June 14, 2008

The Hottie and the Nottie

We just finished watching in about 15 minutes what has to be the lowest grossing movie in history - Paris Hilton's The Hottie and The Nottie. We spent our Saturday night - well, at least part of it, watching the movie.

Why were we watching this movie on a Saturday night? Our home is one of the homes in the picture. I'm not actually sure whose house it is - I think it is the good looking boyfriend's home. We didn't actually watch much of the picture - it is pretty awful. We just fast forwarded to the scenes shot in our house. But I can say that our home is in the lowest grossing movie in history - our claim to fame. Whoo-hoo!

And, just a note, Paris Hilton was very nice. I didn't expect her to be. But she was. Very nice, polite and gracious.

Friday, June 6, 2008

Princess Ponies Pee Standing Up

Today my daughter went to the bathroom by herself, washed her hands and put on clean underwear. Without any help whatsoever. Because, as she puts it, she is a "grownup princess."

Which is much better than a year ago when we started potty traing. At 2, my daughter was a pony. Not a girl. A pony. If you said anything to her that contained the word "girl" you would get a cross correction.

"C'mon little girl, let's go."

Very crossly, with a pursed little lip and frowning eyebrows, "I'm not a little girl. I'm a pony." And if you pushed the issue, which my mother tended to do, you would get it louder, with emphasis. "I'M (pause) A (pause) PONY!!!"

All she wanted was to BE a pony. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A pony. A PINK pony."

So, when we started potty training, my darling, ever so helpful son informed my pony that ponies pee standing up. I didn't know that he had done this, but learned soon after. He had watched a Animal Planet show with my husband, and, of course, the horses peed standing up. And my son told me daughter that if she was, in fact, a pony, then she would have to pee standing up.

So, the next time in the bathroom, my daughter, after pulling off her leggings, stood straddling the portable child's potty.

"What are you doing?" I'm thinking that she is a little confused after watching her brother pee standing up.

"I'm peeing."

"Why are you standing up?"

"Ponies pee standing up. Cole said." (At this point, I'm a little grateful that my son didn't tell her to poop standing up.)

Trying to manage the situation without scarring her emotionally and screwing up potty training, while at the same time needing to properly train my daughter before daycare thinks that I'm completely nuts, I cleverly say, "Well ponies pee outside. Should we go outside?" This is a good response, since my daughter is a bit more private than my son. My son LOVES to pee outside.

With her tiny pursed little, and a very cross expression, I get her explanation. "Mama, princess ponies do NOT pee outside."

Thursday, June 5, 2008

How do I get personal time? Bribery. Husband (sex) and Kids (Wii)

Tonight I attended a fabulous mommy networking event. The setting was lovely, the women were great, the food was delicious, etc. The topic was about finding balance in your life as a mom. And there was a really good discussion about finding balance and how we all juggle all of the demands. And, basically, it came down to the fact that none of us do it very well, and most of us feel guilty about short changing something at one point or the other.

But at one point we strayed into the topic of asking your partner to help out more so that you can have some personal time and how to do that. And all of these women spoke up and gave thoughtful, intelligent, adult answers. About communicating. About trading time. About compromising and working together.

Not me. I'm much more basic. I use bribery. My womanly wiles. My husband is easy - I just bribe him with sex. Our children still take naps. At least most of the time. So, on the weekends, when they are napping, I lure my husband into the bedroom. It doesn't take much - just a "Hey, want to have sex?" That's it, then he usually naps too. Which gives me some quiet time to do some chores or whatever. But the trick is, after everybody wakes up, I can then use the fact that we had sex and he got a nap to get my free time, whether it is a walk by myself or a shopping trip or whatever. It works like a charm.

And I really didn't want to admit that I bribe my kids too. 15 minutes to free time to myself? Just put on a My Little Pony DVD for my daughter on the portable DVD and let my son play the Wii and I'm set for 15 minutes.

Monday, June 2, 2008

My daughter thinks I'm a princess too

My daughter loves pink, purple, princesses and ponies. In that order. But she insists that she is a princess, not a girl - which I have to say is better than insisting she is a pony, like she used to do. She has even convinced her friends and the teachers at daycare to call her "Cinderella." But, let's be quite clear, not Cinderella when she was cleaning, but Cinderella in her fancy dress.

Today my daughter brought her pink robed Giselle doll to school. Her teacher asked about her doll. My daughter looked sternly at her teacher, as only a 3 year old can do, and said, quite clearly, "It isn't a doll. It is a princess."

And the teacher replied, "Well, it is a pretty princess in a pink dress."

To which my darling daughter responded, "My mommy is a pretty princess too - she's just not wearing her dress."

Sometimes, you just gotta love them!