How To Be a Bad Mom and The Obvious

How to be a bad mom:

When you pick up your daughters from school, notice one of them is beside herself with joy at the library book she picked up at book borrowing.  She is practically hugging it.  

You agree it looks like a great book and we need something new to read before bedtime.

When you get home, notice your daughter carrying the book with her everywhere she goes.  She checks the bookmark position, reads the title, checks the bookmark position again.

Go about the rest of your day.  Help the first graders with their homework.  Take all the kids to the park to ride bikes until it starts to get dark.  Enjoy the crisp fall afternoon and wish you had a soy latte to warm you up as you watch your kids play.   Forgive your husband for telling you he will be working late and won't be home for dinner/bedtime.  Make dinner and enjoy make you own taco night with the kids.   

Let the kids watch Arthur while you empty the dishwasher so you can load the dishwasher with all the make you own taco dishes.   Clean out the lunchboxes and start lunches for tomorrow.

Give all three kids a bath and wash their hair.

Help everyone brush their teeth and comb their hair.

Change into your pajamas and settle in for story time.

Notice the panicked look on your book loving daughter's face when she realizes she doesn't have her beloved book.

Tell her to go downstairs and look for it.

Try to contain your frustration when she comes back upstairs in tears because she can't find it.  You just want to read a couple of books and tuck them all into bed before you collapse.

She is having none of your other book suggestions and when you suggest we read her beloved book tomorrow she only cries harder.

Don't hide your frustration from her while you both head back downstairs to look for the book.  Look everywhere.  Make her go out to the car and search there.  Tell her she really needs to learn to keep track of her things and this is ridiculous.

When you can't find the book, tell all the kids that we have now wasted story time looking for the darn book and the all need to just go to bed.  Two of them will start crying and saying it isn't fair.

Finally get them tucked in walk downstairs to finish cleaning up.   Feel like crap for yelling at your distraught daughter and canceling story time.

Spot the book on the edge of the dining room table about a half hour later.

Bring the book up to your daughter and find that she's still awake.  

She's overjoyed that you found the book and puts it under her pillow.  You hug her and tell her you love her and she's a good girl.

As you walk out the door, she tells you you're a good mommy.  

Your heart will melt and you'll feel even worse for getting angry at her.  

Go downstairs and write a blog post about it.  Realize even good moms act like bad moms sometimes and isn't forgiveness fantastic.  

The Obvious

I've been reading a lot of political posts.  A lot.  Lots of people have created much better commentary than I could.  I voted.  I have had numerous conversations with my six year olds about the election and what it all means.  I was truly disappointed that Prop 8 passed (click here for an excellent post) here in California, yet happy that Prop 4 did not pass. 

This morning we were talking about how important and historical this election was and how I always want them to remember the day America elected a black man into the White House, and I found myself crying.  I'm hopeful.

This post here says what I am feeling better than I could.  Go and read it and pretend I wrote it.  Just kidding.  About pretending I wrote it, not about reading it.  What are you waiting for?  Go.

The Sixth Photo in the Sixth Album

I was tagged by my friend PsychMamma for a fun photo meme.   The rules are to choose the sixth photo from your sixth album and post it along with a description or the story behind it.    Here's what I came up with:

It was taken in August of 2006.   We were on vacation in Tahoe with my sister and her family.  That's our cousin Seesa, Lolly and Frostine having a snack on the beach.  I'm not sure if they are pointing at the bird or something else.   Lolly and Frostine were 4 years old and Seesa was almost three years old.   I hope the three of them have a lifetime's worth of memories from all these family vacations together.

That was our last summer vacation in Tahoe before we started going to Bass Lake instead.  Tahoe is great, but the water is freezing.  While the beaches are scenic, they are not so great for spending the whole day there building sand castles and swimming.  We would rent a boat for one or two days, but it was so cold and windy out on the lake that no one had that much fun.  You had to wear a wet suit if you wanted to water ski, too much work in my opinion.   

At Bass Lake we spend everyday out on the boat or swimming off our dock.  We also like feeling like we are somewhere less populated than the Bay Area.  It feels more like a traditional lake vacation.  

Here are the six people I'm tagging.  Leave a comment with a link if you decide to play along.

Maura, Andrea, Susie, Carrie, Kate, Insta-Mom and HeartAtPreschool and Inzaburbs

OK, I broke meme protocol and tagged eight people.  I'm a rebel.

Blog Angst

Remember when I said I was going to put up three post in one day?  Yeah, well I lied.  I couldn't get this one finished.  But two posts in one day isn't too bad.  I had to close the computer and take my feverish, coughing self to bed.  So at any rate, here is my long awaited Blog Angst post.  Because I know you were wondering what happened.  BTW, my friend count is up to 21 on Facebook.  Yay me!!  Want to be my friend?  Send me an e-mail: mamagingertree@gmail.com

I have been blogging for about eight months now.   Before I started my own blog, I read blogs for over a year.   Never once in that approximately 18 months did I ever leave a comment.  I just read and learned and enjoyed.   Even as I get deeper into the blogosphere I am still amazed at how much quality content is out there.  

Lately my blog has been causing me some angst.  Not major angst, but enough to prompt me writing about it.  I have written this post several times in my head for the past two weeks, so I need to just get it out.

Angst #1: The fact that I have a blog

When we were on vacation with my sister's family a few weeks ago, my sister and I were reading blogs one evening and talking about people/posts we liked.  My brother-in-law made some comment about blogs being a waste of time and why do we care about someone else's life anyway.  I am sure I don't need to explain why I wholeheartedly disagree with him to whoever might be reading this.  I read something recently by a blogger that said people who think blogs are silly just don't get it.  I wish I could remember who said it and where I read it to give them proper credit, but alas, I can't.   My brother-in-law is entitled to his opinion and not to waste his time on blogs.  That's fine with me.  But don't tell me it's stupid.  I love blogging and it's been good to me.

You know how great it can be to meet another mom at the park hoping to have a good venting session while you sip lattes?  Well we all know that is a pretty rare occurrence for most moms.  You are more likely to spend your time chasing your kids in different directions, doling out snacks, having fragmented, never finished conversation with your mom friends while your latte gets cold.  

What I love about blogging is that I can come home from the park or school or where ever, open my computer and I am bound to find someone out there that I can relate to and has written something insightful about whatever is bugging me that day.  And I feel less alone.  Mock internet friends if you must... my husband calls them my "imaginary friends."  But I have connected with some genuinely lovely people through my blog like Maura, Andrea, Insta-Mom,  Kate, Carrie, Susie, EatPlayLove and Tracey (if you are not reading Tracey, you should be because she is delightful and a fantastically great writer) just to name a few.   Especially Maura, I think she might be the most genuinely lovely of them all.  I love getting a little peek into someone's life through their blog and I usually learn something from them.

I've been reluctant to let even my close (real life) friends know I have a blog, but I am growing increasingly confident about it.  I am proud of some of the things I've written.  If some think it's geeky, than I am a proud geek.

Angst #2:  Writing in general

It took me a long time to get the courage to start a blog because I have never been a very confident writer.   I don't think my writing is very good.  I know we are all our own harshest critics, and I finally decided it didn't really matter if I was a stellar writer.  What mattered is that I felt like I had something to share and no one was going to read it besides my husband anyway.  My husband who told me the other day he thinks I am "a good writer, not great and I could probably use an editor."  Whatever.  I am not much of a proof reader.  Once I write something I usually just check for typos and hit publish.  I'm not even very good at finding all the typos!  Even though I am OK with being a less than stellar writer, I still enjoy reading people who are stellar writers like AnyMommy, Black Hockey Jesus or Mom-101, just to name a few (and there are SO MANY more).   And I still enjoy writing, very much.

So what's the problem?  Well here is how my day typically goes blog-wise.  I wake up and write an amazing post in my head while I'm in the shower or while I'm fixing breakfast for my kids.  Then the entire day gets away from me and I get distracted by the dishes, the wardrobe battles, the classroom volunteering, tennis class, ballet class, soccer practice, a trip to Target, etc. etc. etc.  Once I do sit down to write, I am distracted by the kids or I can see the pile of laundry that needs to be folded or the pile of matchbox cars that needs to be put away.  I've tried writing in a coffee shop, but then I am distracted by the noise and the ice tea and the pastries.  

Once I do find some quiet time to write I start off by reading other people's blogs.  That is where I get into trouble.   Besides the fact that it takes me a long time to read everyone's latest posts, I tend to lose my fire.  I read someone's amazing post and the one I wrote in my head just doesn't sound as funny or heart-warming as it did before.   So maybe you could all write something really crappy next week to make me feel better about myself.  No?  Well it was worth a try.

Blog Angst #3:  Humor

I like to think I have a fairly decent sense of humor.  I adore funny people and funny writing.  Mr. Mint can end any argument we have just by making me laugh.  One little humorous comment from him and all my anger melts away (most of the time).   This runs along the same lines as angst #2.   I think I have something funny to say and then I read something like this.  Marinka is freaking hilarious and even though she makes me feel decidedly unfunny, I look forward to reading her.  To make matters worse, she also writes stuff like this that feel like a punch to the gut.   Then there's Meg and Amy who I have actually met briefly in real life.  If you are not following either of them on Twitter you are missing out.  They crack me up.  And have I mentioned Tracey?  She is delightfully funny.  Don't even get me started on Stefanie, she is my favorite kind of funny.  So I will probably just keep trying to pretend that I am funny.  Was that funny to anyone but me?

Blog Angst #4: Comments

I actually don't have any comment angst, but it seems like everyone who writes one of these blog angst posts writes about comments and I didn't want to break protocol.  I don't get many comments here and that is fine with me.  I like to visit the people who comment on my blog and it's not that hard for me to keep up with the 3-9 people who leave a comment on each post.  I greatly appreciate every comment that I get.   I mean where else but here can I get such meaningful and heartfelt comments on something like this?   I never properly thanked the amazing PsychMamma for her comment on that post.  I adore PsychMamma.  When I read her 100 Things post I felt like I could have written it.

So I don't really have comment angst.  Except maybe when I read a very popular bloggers post and they already have 30+ comments.  I tend not to leave a comment unless I feel like I really have something of value to add to the discussion.  Seems to me most people with comment angst have a hard time keeping up with everyone who comments on their blog.  Not a problem for me.  I also don't take offense if someone I comment on regularly or even occasionally, does not comment on my blog.  It doesn't stop me from reading them.

Blog Angst #5:  My blog theme

I thought long and hard about what to call my blog and what to name my family.  The Candy Land thing sounded great in my head in the shower one morning.  I was so happy to finally have an idea and get started that I just ran with it.  I do love candy and playing Candy Land and I absolutely use candy to bribe my kids into doing all sorts of things.  However, after eight months, I am kind of over it.   I love, LOVE my blog design but I am not really this cutesy in real life.   

I am thinking about changing my whole blog persona.  I hesitate to change things since I have carved out a little space for myself as Mama Ginger Tree.   My idea was to change the name of my blog to The Norwindians since I'm Norwegian and my husband is East Indian, and our kids are Norwindian (get it?).  But Mama Ginger Tree doesn't really fit into that scenario.  I don't mind using my real first name, which is Kirsten, but trust me, Kirsten would only confuse things further since people have been misspelling my name my whole life.   

So I will most likely switch at some point when I finally get tired of the Candy Cane Forest or when my kids get tired of playing Candy Land.  When that will be, I am not sure.  I am torn between just leaving things as they are, changing over now before I get any deeper into blogging or waiting until I get a fancy blog design for The Norwindians.   Argh.  The decision is driving me nuts.

Blog Angst #6: Mr. Mint

I cant' stand it when my husband reads what I am writing over my shoulder before I am finished.  I don't know why, but it drives me insane.  

When I read all this over, it sounds like my major source of angst is reading other people's fantastic blogs and feeling inadequate.  I'll deal.  I am not going to stop reading and I am not going to stop blogging.  I am actually happy with my little corner of the blogosphere.  I hope my kids will get something out of all this writing someday.  I know if my dad had anything like I a blog, it would be absolutely priceless to me today, no matter what it said.  It would be a piece of him, his history.

As much as it pains me, I am not going to allow comments on this post.  I am not fishing for validation.  I just needed to get this all out of my brain, through my fingertips and onto my keyboard.  

Football Time!

It's football time.  In case you haven't heard of the BFL, hop on over here and check it out.  I am not usually much of a sports fan, but I am an Insta-Mom fan and an AmyInOhio fan for sure.  So when they put out the call for BFL gamers, I was all over it.  Besides, Mr. Mint loves sports so maybe it will be good for my marriage if I actually take an interest the games.  Time will tell.

I used to be a big football fan, back when the Niner's were good. *ahem*  Some of my picks will be educated, but most will be random.  Maybe I'll get lucky.

Anyway, I've bolded my picks for this week:

Arizona @ Washington

Carolina @ Minnesota
Houston @ Tennessee
Miami @ New England
Oakland @ Buffalo
Cincinatti @ NY Giants
Kansas City @ Atlanta
Tampa Bay @ Chicago
St. Louis @ Seattle
Detroit @ San Francisco 
New Orleans @ Denver
Pittsburgh @ Philadelphia
Cleveland @ Baltimore
Jacksonville @ Indianapolis
Dallas @ Green Bay

Monday Night Game:
NY Jets @ San Diego
Combined final score: 50

So there you have it.  Now hop on over to Insta-Mom and check out who else is playing along.

Ew

Yesterday someone came across my blog by googling "feel me up pediatrician."  Um gross.  They hung around for a couple of page views!  

Today someone came here by googling "woman eating candy cane held between her breasts."  Hi pervert in Nashville, TN.

I'm sorry to disappoint, but there will never, ever be any photos of a woman eating a candy cane held between her breasts or a "feel me up pediatrician" (whatever that is) on my blog.  Please take your perversions somewhere else.  There are children present here and ladies with very delicate ears (I'm looking at you AnyMommy).

My Own Interview Experiment

You may remember that about a month ago I participated in Neil Kramer's Great Interview Experiment.  Like I've stated before, it's a concept I believe in wholeheartedly.  Everyone is someone and everyone has a story to tell.  I often look at people and wonder "what's their story?"  Like the checkout guy at my favorite grocery store who always makes conversation with my kids tells me every single time to enjoy them while they're young.  Or the Ecuadorian nanny I see at my daughters school who always has her head buried in a classic American novel until the bell rings and she collects her charges.  Even my in-laws have stories I have yet to discover, like what it was like to live in Uganda and be driven out by Idi Amin.  Did they fear for their lives?  Would they like to go back?  You can never tell by looking at someone what path their life has taken and what you might be able to learn from them.

I interviewed Katie from Overflowing Brain.  An interesting woman with an interesting story to tell.  I never heard from the person who was assigned to interview me.  That's OK.  Maybe she pulled up my blog and thought, "oh great, another mommy blogger with a cutesy header.  About Candy Land no less."  I get it.   I write about my kids and my motherhood experience quite a bit.   To someone that doesn't have kids, I imagine they wouldn't find my blog very interesting.  Maybe I am not that interesting to those of you that do have kids.  

But I am more than a cutesy mommy blogger who doles out candy to her impossibly adorable kids and complains about her husband.  I have stories and opinions.  So I am going to interview myself, or rather YOU are going to interview me.  Leave me a question in the comments and I'll do another post answering your questions.  

Maybe you want to know more about my mixed race marriage and how I feel about raising mixed race kids.  I have strong opinions on bottled water versus tap water, want to hear them?  Or perhaps you want to know about how I had been dating my husband for 4 years and was living with him before he even told his parents he had a girlfriend.  I was raised by a single mom who supported us on a nurse's salary in an affluent neighborhood -- there are lots of stories there.   What was I doing on September 11, 2001?   What is it about Bobby Flay that I find so incredibly sexy?  Need more inspiration?  Read my Greatest Hits over there on the right or my 100 Things.

Leave a question anonymously if you must.  Ask whatever you want to know.  Don't be shy.

Or maybe I'm just not that interesting.  I'm OK with that too.  I still find all of you incredibly interesting. 

Go Have a Look

My first post is up at Silicon Valley Moms Blog.  Go check it out!

The One Where I Reveal My Name... and Some Exciting News

One of the very first blogs I ever read on a regular basis is the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.  

To use their words SV Moms Blog is:

"A byte of Silicon Valley life....... Welcome to Silicon Valley, where 40+ moms write about being CEOs at work and CFOs at home, where houses are expensive, kids love sushi and have web businesses, and moms are too busy chauffeuring kids to raise a sword in the mommywars."

I am thrilled that they have asked me to join the ranks of their many fantastic writers.  I will be posting there as (drum roll please)... Kirsten.  Kirsten is my real name.  So now you know.  I will continue to be Mama Ginger Tree over here in the Candy Cane Forest.  

So hop of over to SV Moms Blog and check them out as well as their sister sites.  You can see my bio on the About Us page.  I'll let you know when my first post is up hopefully within the next week or so.  I am so excited to be a part of the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.   As you'll see, I'm in good company over there.

Guest Post #4: A Call to Action

By now I am sadly on my way home from vacation.  But lucky for you Katie from Overflowing Brain agreed to do a guest post for me.  As you may remember I was assigned to interview Katie for The Great Interview Experiment.  You can read that here.  But before you do that, read below.  I had no idea what she was going to write about, but when she sent me this I couldn't have been more pleased.  I think Katie is whip smart and she has a message here that I whole-heartedly stand behind.  So read on...

Mama Ginger Tree put a shout out on Twitter last week for a guest blogger and I volunteered. Because I really don’t want to clean my house and well, it just isn’t a real week in our house if I don’t spread myself too thin. Just kidding. Mostly.

Anyways, I volunteered without having any idea in mind of what I was going to write. You’d be amazed how much pressure is involved in blogging for someone else. If I post something that isn’t funny or thought provoking on my own blog, it’s no big deal, but on someone else’s? It’s a whole new ballgame. The kind that gives you hives and anxiety attacks. Again, I kid. Kinda.

I sat down to think about what I wanted to do here, besides write a 3 paragraph preface to a blog, and I kept coming back to one idea. Most of you probably don’t know me, so this is a good opportunity for me to present this to a different demographic than that of my own blog readers. It’s not going to be exceptionally humorous, but hopefully it’ll make you think, or even better, act.

I’m a 25 year old wife, teacher, student, blogger and well, woman. And I’m here to talk to you on behalf of the woman part of me about something that is near and dear to my heart- boobs.

In the fall of 2006 during a monthly self-exam, I found a lump in my breast. I ignored it 2 solid months before mentioning it to my then boyfriend (now husband, who is in medical school). To say he was a little upset with my intentional ignorance would be a vast understatement. When I told him that my breast had also been leaking he nearly shat a brick, a metaphorical reaction I’m actually getting quite good at eliciting from him.

Eventually with my husband’s nagging insistence, I made a doctor’s appointment for The Lump. My gynecologist thankfully took me seriously and sent me to have bilateral ultrasounds and to a plastic surgeon who specializes in breast issues. The ultrasound report, which we received the week before the appointment with the surgeon, stated that both breasts were normal. We breathed a great sigh of relief, I cannot tell you how wonderful that felt. Now we just had this one last hurdle to clear, the surgeon, before we could resume life as normal again. Before we could safely ignore this molehill on my mountain (ba-dum-chink!)

The first thing the surgeon did was her own ultrasound. Despite my previous pristine ultrasound, her ultrasound showed The Lump rather clearly. And so we took the next necessary step, a biopsy. And folks, it was not pleasant, I’m not going to lie to you. But the pathology came back beautifully benign and the scar is completely clear now. I was diagnosed with fibrocystic (lumpy) breasts and I was told to come back to the boob surgeon in 1, 3, 6 and 12 months post-op just to be safe.

I’m happy to say that the 1, 3, and 6 month checks were normal. Which of course, means the 12 month one wasn’t. After 6 months of no change, The Lump grew back. I could feel it myself, so I wasn’t surprised when the ultrasound showed its reemergence. Only, not only did it reemerge, it changed. It was growing bigger and faster than before. Like a Nike commercial. Only, you know, as a lump in my boob.

We decided not to do anything right away and wait a few months to see what would happen. About a month before my scheduled re-check, The Lump started causing some, um, leakage, and having learned from the last time (see honey, I’m evolving!), I made an appointment right away. The ultrasound revealed what we feared. The Lump was bigger! Growing faster! Much much scarier!

I had anticipated another biopsy, which was well within the realm of things I could deal with. So when the surgeon said “quadrantectomy” which is to say, the removal of an entire quadrant of my boob, I panicked. I panicked so much that I pretty much lost my ability to function, as evidenced by my complete inability to ask questions at the doctor’s office and the “love tap” I accidentally gave another car with my bumper in the parking lot on the way out. Whoops.

Eventually I got myself together (read: I got my husband to come back with me to the doctor) and we got information. We scheduled surgery. On April 22nd, 2008, I had a quadrant of my right breast removed and analyzed. After an excruciating week-long wait, we got the pathology. No cancer. We jumped for joy. Multiple ductal hyperplasias, one atypical. We stopped jumping.

In that one moment, a lot of things changed in my life. I have absolutely zero family history of breast cancer. None. Not a single woman in my entire family tree as far back as we can trace it has ever had a diagnosed case of breast cancer. And yet, at age 24 I got pathology back from a doctor that showed that I had FIVE TIMES the average risk for breast cancer. I was told that every 6 months for “the rest of my life” or “until we find something” I’d have to be assaulted with the ultrasound, looking for changes. I was told it wasn’t so much an “if” as much as a “when.” The words “prophylactic double mastectomy” were shouted out into the void. At age 24.

At age 24 I got a wake up call and a life lesson that I had never anticipated, that I didn’t really want. Through my vigilance, I found a lump. That lump could’ve been left alone indefinitely, but because my husband forced encouraged me to see a doctor, we found out some incredibly valuable information. Because we’re armed with the knowledge of my risk for breast cancer, we can watch for it. We can catch it early if it ever shows up.

I am not the only young woman to be in this situation or to have to face this terrifying reality and I’m speaking on behalf of all those who share in this nightmare with me. I am lucky that my biopsies were non-cancerous. Not everyone is. I’m not writing this to scare you because fear isn’t the key, change is.

Let’s be honest, none of us really want to talk about boobs. And none of us really want to go to a doctor once a year to have them medicinally molested. And I’m completely sure that there’s no woman in the universe who actually wants to have her boob mashed in an x-ray machine or having someone rub cold jelly and an ultrasound wand over them. It’s awkward. What do you say to someone who’s staring at you naked from the waist up?

But I can promise you that for all the awkwardness and uncomfortability in talking about this, being proactive in your breast health is worth it. It might have saved my life and it can save yours.

(Cue cheesy music)

It takes is about 5 good minutes A MONTH. Everyone has 5 minutes a month. I’m working full time, taking classes at night, volunteering at another job and blogging way too often, and I can cut 5 minutes a month out of my schedule to do this. I’m not going to describe how to properly do this exam (THAT would be awkward), but I’m going to give you links galore to help you with it. And if you find a lump, do not wait. I know it’s not pleasant. I know you’re afraid a doctor will brush you off or ignore your concerns. You can’t let that fear guide you. Doctors are not going to dismiss you or your concerns, if they do, you need a new doctor. It doesn’t matter if you’re 23 or 73, your boobs are not things to be fooled around with (medically, that is).

I feel a bit like an infomercial, but literally 5 short minutes each month, 1 yearly visit to the gynecologist and if you’re over age 40, 1 mammogram a year, could mean the difference between stage 1 and stage 3. Breast cancer does not emerge overnight. It doesn’t show up at your door one day out of the blue. It grows slowly but not silently. You can’t stop it, but you can gain the upper hand. But only if you take action- only if you are proactive about your health.

I’m not going to continue to beat this dead horse, I think my point has been made. But in case it hasn’t, go think about the things that are important in your life and consider whether you can spare 5 minutes each month to potentially save your life.

Thanks again to Mama Ginger Tree for this opportunity to stand on my soapbox chat with y’all. Give it some thought, and then tell all the women that are important in your life. Because awkward conversations are a lot better than the alternative.

Guest Post #3a: Papa's Tears

Apparently when I am on vacation I cannot count.   The post below should have been titled "Guest Post #2."  So rather than correct my error, I will just call this one "Guest Post 3a" because it's my blog and I make the rules.  OK.

Today's guest blogger is my friend MMM.  Like V, we've known each other since high school.  Shortly after we graduated from college, MMM trained for and ran a marathon.  I was so impressed and inspired by her that I decided to give it a try.  One evening after a training run, MMM, myself and bunch of other runners decided to get some beers... because nothing rehydrates a runner like beer.  There was a guy there named Steve that was paying quite a bit of attention to my friend MMM.   As we were leaving I said, "that guys wants to date you."  She was completely oblivious and said something like, "no, I think he's just a really nice guy."  MMM and Steve are now married with two of the most adorable little children on the planet.  Never doubt MGT.

MMM doesn't have her own blog, but just like V, she should.  I was thrilled she agreed to write a guest post for me.  So enough intro, here she is:

My dad never cries. Well, first of all I call him “Papa” (yes, still at 37) and let me clarify: I’ve seen him cry maybe 5 times in my entire life. Once when his mother died, once when my mother’s mother died, when a dear friend of the family died, a quick tear when he dropped me off at college, and when my hubbie and I announced I was pregnant. Until I began writing today, I had completely forgotten that there was a sixth time that I witnessed the awkward, contorted-faced controlled whimper called “crying” that he unwillingly released. I was lounging on a hospital bed with a huge proud smile on my face, waiting to be wheeled in to have bone marrow extracted.

This was one of the most rewarding days of my life and when I saw the worry on my parents’ faces, I quickly responded with “how could I not do this?” It was a worry that I could never understand completely because I was single, childless and only 27. At the time my only worries were which direction to begin my morning runs, to have a post-run bagel or smoothie and whether I should eat at Pasta Pomodoro or Barney’s.

I was given the opportunity to donate bone marrow to an unrelated 10 year old Brazilian girl in 1997. I say opportunity because it ended up opening my mind and so many doors for me. It was a small price to pay for the things I experienced.

The odds of being selected, screened and passed as a bone marrow donor is 1 in 20,000 (at least that’s what I just found on my quick internet search). Not a common thing and it is not guaranteed because you simply donated blood. So when my husband, boyfriend at the time, was a match for another unrelated girl, we were shocked. What made me fall in love with him even more, was that he took as long as I did to decide to donate. “Yes, of course I’ll do it” was his response. He had a hard outer shell, but had a heart of gold.

His little angel didn’t make it through her first year. Now before I make my next comment let me say that my husband was affected by this. I was just surprised by his first response: “At least she had a little more time.” True, but how about a tear? A scream?” This is a perfect example of the difference between how we parent. He, the optimist, me the realist (ok, the pessimist).

In my experience donating bone marrow is a lot like parenting. You are completely depleted and exhausted; your blood is running around outside of your body; you knew you wanted to do it, but you had no clue about all the feelings you would experience; there are high highs and low lows; your ass and stomach are so bloated because of all the salt you have going through your body (chips vs. IV fluids); and now you have a big chunk of your brain and your entire heart consumed by a little person that shares your DNA.

I know that the girl I donated to survived past the first year. I’m hoping now that she is a healthy 21 year old girl living it up in Brazil. I wonder if she thinks about me, if she thinks about helping others and if she craves nuts like I do. What I’ve learned about this experience since having children, is that I will always have her on my mind and in my heart. In my eyes, we are connected.

Now that I have kids, I understand that I had no clue at the time that I donated what my papa’s tears meant. I’m sure my parents wanted to scream “Are you crazy?! Did you just decide to do this 30 seconds after being asked?!” But now that I have two little humans running around, with my blood in them, testing limits, trying new things, falling, learning and growing, I understand that my papa’s tears contained so much more than I initially thought. The tears were tears of fear, pride, admiration, confusion and joy. If I could feel all these emotions in response to my daughter going down the slide for the first time, couldn’t papa feel all that watching me help someone live?

Guest Post #1: The Games We Play

By now I'm sure I am having a wonderful time on my vacation in the mountains.  Today's guest post is from the lovely Carrie of Cze-Johnson.  I put the call out for guest bloggers on Twitter and within what felt like minutes Carrie came up with this post.  Go check her out when you get a minute and give her some support.

Hi, and welcome to Mama Ginger Tree’s blog. Though I suppose you probably don’t need much of a welcome, cause you’re probably a regular, and just who in hell is this writing, ANYWAY?

I’m Carrie. I’m a fairly new reader in these parts, but thought it’d be fun to shanghai the Candy Cane Forest while Mama Ginger Tree was on vacation. CLEARLY, the woman NEEDS a vacation if she’s allowing ME to do a guest post... but that’s a whole other subject.

So admittedly, I haven’t been a reader here for that long. Only about a month, actually. So coming up with an idea/topic to post about for an audience I really don’t know for a blog I’m JUST getting to know is a pretty daunting task. I tried racking my brain for something hip and fresh and maybe naked (well.. not NAKED-naked.. sheesh! We just barely MET after all…) something that would be smiled upon by the masses yet hopefully strike a chord.. oh crap. Who am I kidding??? Maybe I should just play a game.

So that got me thinking. We as moms, we as women... we as bloggers and we as PEOPLE do a lot of game playing. And I’m not talking about the Candy Land Variety. I’m talking about those OTHER games. It seems as though through every stage of life... there seems to be some undercurrent of game playing that seizes and takes control of our actions… voluntary and involuntary.

As children… life IS a game. Pretend play, imaginary friends, and never-ending races to see who can be FIRST at whatever. I watch my own children, and often marvel at how EVERYTHING is a game. Sometimes this can be pretty annoying… like when it’s time to get buckled into carseats, or dressed for church, or when I’m on the phone with an insurance company and my daughter yells ever-so-loudly that it’s my turn to make a fart. Most times it’s fun, though… yes.. even the fart game (c’mon.. like you’ve never wanted to make your child GAG from the smell of you like you have for years and years of diaper changes?? No?? oh. Ok.. moving on, then.) But I do enjoy getting wrapped in their innocence and knowing in their world it’s going to be a happy ending.

As teenagers, I recall making it my own mission to drive my parents crazy. This equated to several games… ones of ‘not speaking to them like EVER’, ones of cloak and dagger (“here.. wear this UNDER your shirt, and you can take off the shirt before we get there”), ones of one-upping and begging (“well *I* got 2 more A’s on my report card than so-and-so, so can I have more allowance”) and of course.. the ultimate favorite… the IOU games.. where I would PROMISE to do whatever to have whatever whenever I wanted.

College and dating offered a new set of games… drinking ones, to name a few. But a WHOLE new breed of mind games. If I do THIS, he’s sure to love me. If I don’t do THAT, then this that and the other thing will surely result. Those younger 20s were lonely games. Not that other people weren’t involved… on the contrary, most games were the result of my intent focus on someone else. But those games then? Mostly in my own head. Telling myself I needed to be skinnier, smarter, more available, LESS available, more sexual… the list and rules went on and on. I don’t miss those days.

Eventually… like in that old movie “War Games”… I learned that those types of games I was playing never had a winner. So in my late 20’s, I decided I was done playing games… it was time to find a REAL MAN, and get settled down. HAH. Who was I kidding? That was when the real games BEGAN.

Finding and being courted by a man you intend to keep around for your entire life is like a high-stakes poker game. You’ve learned by this point not to show all your cards right off the bat… you’ve perfected your bluffing, you know how to read your opponent, and to slack back JUST ENOUGH to let them think they’re running the show. But you know better… it’s all a big orchestration, with only the finest conductors not being noticed. Pull it off, and the jackpot is yours. Sometimes… you end up flat on your ass and emotionally broke. Or broken, as the case may be. When that happens.. you may take a detour back into the head games until you are ready for high-stakes again.

So when you DO make it big, and get your jackpot and happily ever after finish… the games are over, right? Nope. This is what I tend to refer to as the ‘truth or dare’ stage. And by that I don’t mean ask my husband if he dares to not tell me the truth about something. No.. this is the time of life when you must be honest with your partner. At times you must be brave. You step outside of your comfort zone because someone you love and trust asked you to. Don’t believe me? Ask any wife who has had to clean up a vomitorium from a husband who is sick or had too much to drink. Ask a husband who has had to pretend his wife wasn’t hormonal during pregnancy. Or ANY spouse who feels the other is just as attractive to them even though they have put on a few pounds.

Having children brings you full circle. As a parent, you play with them. But in addition to this cycling back, you take on a new set of games… ones that you are the superhero, and can make anything better. No matter what. One look from your own child, and you are involuntarily thrust into that role. You WILL protect them. At pretty much all costs.

You’ll go without sleep. You’ll not get your hair done. You’re wear last year’s clothes, you’ll eat cold food, you’ll stay home or you’ll go to work and a plethora of other things... all in the name of love. Because that’s what Superheroes do.

Of course... every relationship we as humans create tends to have its own set of rules. From in-laws to neighbors, co-workers and your child’s teachers. Even Bloggers. We read, we comment, we like, we link. Sometimes the moves are simple and natural, and in those movements we take the greatest leaps forward as individuals and within the relationship. Sometimes... we take or witness calculated actions. Playing nice, seeking popularity, or even to ostracize. Let’s face it... some folks are just playing to win.

So regardless of the stage of life you happen to be in... let’s take a minute to applaud Mama Ginger Tree. She and the other players in her Candy Cane Forest are wise to treat life as the game it is. I have a strong feeling that everyone in her game comes out feeling like a winner… and as she says on her masthead… that is always sweet.

The Great Interview Experiment

If you haven't yet heard of Neil Kramer's Great Interview Experiment where have you been?  Under a rock?  The premise is that all bloggers are compelling and deserve to be interviewed.  I couldn't agree more.  If you dig deep enough, everyone has a story to tell.  Bloggers just do the digging for you.  

All you have to do is leave a comment here and you will be assigned to be interviewed by the commenter right before you and you will in turn interview the commenter that follows you.  So go over to Citizen of the Month and sign up.  But read this first.  Then go sign up.  

I was assigned to interview Katie from Overflowing Brain.  To say she has a lot going on in her brain would be an understatement.  I truly enjoyed reading Katie's blog and getting to know her.  Not only is she frank and honest about her health issues, but the more upbeat parts of her life as well.  Just check out her posts about her recent wedding and I guarantee you will find her delightful and funny.  My questions here just scratch the surface of all that she writes about, so I highly recommend adding Overflowing Brain to your feeder of choice. 

So without further ado, here is my interview with Katie.  Enjoy.

Why did you start your blog?

A few years prior to starting my blog I joined an online community that's more focused on health issues (because, did you know, I have some of those? I didn't think so).  After a few years there it became apparent that I had an interest in writing about things other than just doctors appointments and health concerns, but that just wasn't the right forum for it.

So I switched over to blogger and now weave what I find to be funny in with the health stuff.  I love to write and I find myself absolutely hilarious, so it's a great place to deal with both of those things.


What have you learned/gained from blogging?

Hmm, as of last weekend when I changed my template I learned what a huge pain the ass it is to try to deal with HTML code, but that's probably not what you meant.

Honestly, blogging is like free therapy to me.  I get to air out my problems, concerns, and life experiences with other people, some of whom have been there before, others who haven't.  It's been really helpful to me in dealing with big things that I otherwise would've kept bottled inside until I would take them out on my (now) husband.  I was able to share my fears, triumphs, big fat failures and much more.  I'd like to think that I've sharpened my comedy skills too.  My husband would disagree with that.


Is there anything that annoys you about blogging?

One word: trolls.

I will never understand the mindset of someone who reads a blog voluntarily and then signs on as an anonymous reader to leave a snarky comment.  It's inevitably on that one blog post where you need help and support the most and it just makes me crazy.  Which is evident in the fact that I cannot just leave it alone.  I once said I wasn't going to dignify their comments with a response and well, I'm a liar.  I take the bait every single time and blast back.  It annoys me that people find that an acceptable thing to do to someone else or that they get their jollies from it.  I just wish there was a more creative way to say that if you don't like my blog, stop reading it!  It seem so logical to me, and yet, time and time again, the same thing happens.


You have a lot of experience with doctors and now you are married to a med student!  What are the top 3 qualities you think make a great doctor?

What makes you think I have a lot of experience with doctors?  Is it that I have 4 appointments with them in the next week and a half?  Um yea, so I've kept the New Orleans medical community in business for the past 2 years.  I like to support my city, what can I say?

Okay, but seriously, the top 3 qualities:
1) Listening- not just not being quiet, but genuinely listening to a patient's concerns and then addressing them.  So many doctors sit quietly while you talk but then don't actually hear a single syllable you've just said in your exasperation with your health.
2) Honesty- my favorite question to ask a doctor is, if it was you or your child, what would you do?  This is because so much of the time in my health problems, the decisions have been left up to me.  Having a doctor be completely honest with me about what they would do is immeasurably helpful.  But also just honesty about what's going on.  If you suspect something serious, tell me.   I'm going to find out eventually and I am a professional worrier.  Let me do what I do best.
3) Personability- this is decidedly less important than the other 2, but I don't want to go to a doctor who I feel doesn't like me.  If I'm going to talk to you about my brain, or my nether regions, or my boobs, I want to feel like you care, but aren't judging me.  Engage me in conversation and don't roll your eyes or look away.  And if you're working with kids (I don't have any, but I'm pretty sure I was one once), engage them at their level.  Don't try to be their best friend, but make the doctor fun and less totally scary for them.


Looking back, are you glad you decided to have brain surgery?  What was your biggest fear before the surgery?

With very few exceptions, I've never regretted the decision.  It was an incredibly difficult decision, but I found a great surgeon who sat through not one, not two, but three appointments just to answer my questions until I felt completely informed about my options and what the surgery would be like.  I'm having some head difficulties now, but even still, that surgery, at the very least, bought me 8 months of peace from headaches.  And that has been completely amazing.  It's given me a second chance at a lot of things and allowed me to return to the person I was once before head pain began ruling my everyday life.  I'm hoping that this latest jag of headaches is just going to disappear magically.  Yes, I'm totally delusional.

My biggest fear?  Hard to say.  I know that I don't tolerate anesthesia or painkillers very well, so I was (rightly) afraid of the first day post-op, which involved much gagging and dry heaving (pretty!).  But I guess I was also just afraid of what anyone would be afraid of in brain surgery. Pain, infection and most of all, that it wouldn't work.


I love the story of how you met your husband. Would you say it was love at first sight?

Yes and no.  It was more love at first 2 hour conversation.  The first moment I saw him was one of extremely great pain and embarrassment.  Hi, nice to meet you, I'm the girl who didn't move when the giant guy came running at me because somehow I found it more important to guard a fake flag.  Needless to say, it was not one of my finest moments (and yet oddly, not even on the top 10 stupidest things I've done).  But, after several people helped me get off the middle of the football field and I stopped screaming/bawling like a baby and sat down to converse with Slappy, I knew there was something there.  He was charming and funny and exactly the kind of nice guy I'd been waiting to meet.


What was the best part of your recent wedding?

Good question!  My wedding was by far the best day of my life.  It was everything I wanted and more.   I was immeasurably happy the whole time and if I could do it again, I wouldn't change a thing.   I really couldn't stop smiling the entire day.   The photographer asked me to not smile for a few pictures and I only lasted like a frame and a half before I was smiling again.  It was just so wonderful to share my love of my husband with our family and friends.  And how often does your husband split his pants open in the middle of the dance floor?  Not often enough, I say.


Was there any family drama or did everyone behave?

Ha. Haha.  Family drama is pretty much a requirement around here.  For the most part, everyone was on their best behavior, but since you asked... My MIL (who does not like me very much) refused to remove her sunglasses for about half of the pictures from the wedding. Everytime I look at those particular pictures I want to strangle her.

I also (foolishly) gave her the authority to decorate our table signs with ONE string of Mardi Gras beads after several months of her nagging that "it's not a party without Mardi Gras beads."  And much to my surprise (not!) there were extra beads ALL over the cake table.  I sent my mom on a reconnaissance mission to clean the beads off the table.  It's not about the beads.  It's about controlling the crazy.

Oh, and the last dance song was one that my MIL hated.  It was going to be our first dance song before she deemed it "the worst song she'd ever heard."  So it was our last dance song instead.  And I perhaps derived a great deal of pleasure from watching her stomp back to her seat instead of dancing through the last dance. (Victory!)


Did you change your last name? Why or why not?

Not officially yet, but that's only because there was a typo on our marriage license.  Somehow I didn't notice that my first name was misspelled until my mom pointed it out the morning of the wedding.   So we're waiting for the correction to be processed and then I'll get down to business getting it changed over.

I don't have any great attachment to my maiden name.  I have a sister and 4 step-sisters so our last name isn't sticking around.  That, and Slappy is my family now and I want everyone to know it.


What does your husband think of your blog?

Ha.  He vacillates between not giving a crap and being moderately annoyed by my obsession with the internet.   I think he'd be happier if I hadn't joined twitter and stopped being able to sit still for more than 10 minutes without having to see if anyone tweeted anything interesting.  It's bad.  From the start he's been firm about not starting a discussion about the blog unless it's really important.  He wants me to feel like I can post anything I want to without having to check with him first.  He's very supportive as long as I don't spend all our "us" time on the computer.  Which is something I'm working on.


Are there any topics that are off limits on your blog?

Anything that reveals the true identity of my husband.  Because he's applying for his residency this year, he needs his name and face to not be tied to anything that doesn't reflect really well on him.  And not that the blog doesn't, but um, I'm pretty sure that residency programs don't want to hear about his flatulence or tendency to cheat in contests.  Aside from all things Slappy related, there are very few limits.   I won't name the school I work at or any specific details about it because I hope to keep both my job and blog, but that's really it.  I've been using a little more profanity than usual (which is fairly unlike me), but I attribute it entirely to watching both seasons of Dexter in a week and a half and I'm working on it.


Everyone jokes about the lonely life of a doctor's wife, but you seem to be realistic about it and OK with what lies ahead for you guys. Would you say that's true?

To a certain extent yes.  I knew from the day I began dating Slappy that he was going to be a doctor and I made a choice early on that I would stand by him no matter what.  I try to support him in whatever he does and I want him to achieve all of his wildest dreams, regardless of how many years of residency and how many different fellowships they require.  I got a good reality check his first week on his latest rotation when I didn't see him for 3 straight days and it was admittedly a lot more difficult than I'd anticipated.  I think it'll be a struggle, but at the same time, I also require a lot of alone time to maintain my sanity.  I'm not glad he works crazy hours or looking forward to him being gone all the time, but I guess I'm one of those (crazy) people who feels equipped to handle it.  Check back with me in a year, I'm sure I'll be singing a whole new tune when he's on call at the hospital every 3rd night.

You grew up in California and are now a resident of New Orleans.  What was the adjustment like?

It was actually a lot easier than I anticipated.  I had a horrible time acclimating to college life (a whole 2 hours from home) and spent the entire first year wanting to run home, so I was apprehensive about the move.  But after spending a year doing the long-distance relationship thing with Slappy, I was ready to move.  And I have loved it here from day one and have hardly looked back since.  I'd love to get back to California someday to be closer to my family, but I'm also really enjoying the chance to live somewhere totally foreign to me.


What's the best part about living in New Orleans and what is the worst?

The food here is amazing. It's better than anyone describes.  The people are also, for the most part, absolutely lovely.  People ask you how you're doing here in a way that indicates that they actually want to know, they're not just asking to be polite.   My neighbors will engage me in hours of conversation and I feel a great sense of community here.  And did I mention the food?

The worst is probably the bugs and the weather.  We have a small cockroach problem.  Well, actually, small would be the wrong word.  They're huge and they fly.  And we have to get our house sprayed every few months when they overcome the previous spray and start invading our personal space.  There's almost not a single day goes by that I don't encounter a live or dead cockroach somewhere in my house.  Envy me.   And the weather.  It would be an overstatement to say that there are even 2 seasons here.  It's either warm and humid/rainy or cool and humid/rainy.  And I'm from California, so my expectations for separate seasons are low, but I would love to have a break from the lightning every few weeks.


What's the one thing in your life that you are most proud of?

Tough question.  I'm pretty proud of my marriage because we didn't have the easiest time getting to where we are today.  A full year of long-distance relationshipping and our share of complications, but it has been so incredibly worth it.  I also happen to be an excellent mother to my cat.  I'm not especially proud of the fact that she weighs 15 pounds.


Who are your two favorite bloggers?

No way can I narrow it down.  I have a number of friends I've met through my blog and I love reading their blogs because I know them and I feel like I can relate.  On the other hand, I have a list about 20 blogs long that I try to read through regularly not including those real world friends.  I couldn't narrow it down to 2 if you paid me.  Well, maybe I could. Send me a check and I'll try again.


Have you ever posted something and then regretted it?

Until recently my answer would be no.  But then last week my husband suggested I post a contest about stupid things he says and well, in case you're wondering, the post magically disappeared.  It just ended up being a little too weird.   It does happen pretty often that I'll post something and be like, "oh my God, I am a comical genius" only to have like no one think it's funny.   Story of my life.


Has being a teacher made you more or less excited to become a parent someday? Or perhaps just more sure of what kind of parent you want to be?

Teaching has made me much more afraid to ever be the parent of a teenager.  I only deal with them for a few hours a day and I want to kill them, I can't imagine having them live in my house.  No, but really, it has given me great perspective on how parents really shape their kids.  Parent teacher conferences are often the most helpful tool in understanding students because those parents are such a huge part of their kids framework.   I never want to be a parent who makes excuses for my kids, I don't want to enable them to be lazy, but I do want to instill in them a passion for learning and an understanding of the importance of hard work.  I've always wanted to be a mom so I don't think that teaching has increased that desire, but it has surely shed some light on how I want to go about it.


I know you have some opinions about baby names. Have you and Slappy discussed names and do you have a favorite?

We have discussed some names, but he's unwilling to commit to any, except Talula does the Hula from Hawaii.  That one is a lock for our first child, regardless of gender.

Having a gaggle of sisters, I've claimed a few for the future, but none that I'm willing to disclose right now.  And also, we happen to be horribly indecisive, so there's a good chance that our kids will be called Baby girl/boy McSlapperson for the first days.  Or weeks.  Or years.


Does it annoy you that everyone starts asking about babies right after you get married?

Nope.  It annoys me when people won't take my answer of "in a few years" and let. it. go.  I'm not going to have kids because you think I should.  I'm going to have them because my father wants to be a grandparent so much that I feel guilty for not procreating already.  I mean, because I love kids.  Right.  That's it.


If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go?

I studied abroad for a semester in Athens, Greece and I would LOVE to go back.   I know it's odd to want to go somewhere you've already been, but I had the time of my life there and would love to share that with Slappy.  I'd also really like to see Italy and parts of Africa.


Lastly, Coke or Pepsi?

Either, as long as it's diet.  And has rum in it.