Taking My Old Self for a Spin

Mr. Mint drives a much, much nicer car than I do.  I don't really mind.  Afterall, I am the one who shuttles the kids around, grocery shops and all those other things that require a minivan.  The truth is I have never really cared that much about the car that I drive.  My (now four year old) minivan is the first brand new car I have ever owned.  I view it as transportation, nothing more.  I'm not defined by the car I drive.

Mr. Mint loves his nice car.  He has worked his @ss off to afford that car and he deserves it.  It's not over the top, just a nice car.  He rarely lets me drive it.  And by rarely, I mean never.  I can't say I really blame him, as driving has never been my forte.  But sometimes it is rather silly.  If I am going to my book club or to run an errand on the weekend, he never, ever offers to let me drive his car instead of my minivan.  Never. Ever.  (But I'm not bitter or anything)

A couple of weeks ago he took the kids to his parents house for the afternoon and I had an event to attend that evening.  I could tell it was painful for him, but it made no sense to put all three car seats in his car.  I can count on one hand the times this has happened in our six years of parenthood... the situations that require him to drive all three kids somewhere and me to be without any kids.  

I did what any mom would do with a couple of hours to herself and an empty house.  I folded laundry, picked up various shoes, toys and snack remnants from around the house, cleaned the kitchen and took a shower.  I took my time getting dressed.  I picked out a cute outfit and even put on some lip gloss.  I got into Mr. Mints nice car and sank into the comfortable seat.  I turned up the radio and cruised down hwy 101 to my destination.   I had a very strange, almost giddy feeling I couldn't quite put my finger on.  Granted I was attending a very mommy-centric event, but what was that look the valet was giving me as I pulled up to the four star hotel in my husband's nice car?  Was he flirting?  

Then it hit me as I was walking into the hotel.  That valet did not see a disheveled mom in a minivan with a potty on the floor of the backseat, fruit snacks smashed into every crevice, a random shoe under the seat and DVD's strewn about the front console.  He saw a smartly dressed, fairly decent looking, relaxed woman.  He saw me.  The un-mommy me.  I almost started crying.  But I didn't.

Instead I had a lovely time getting to know some other smart moms and listening to a UC Berkeley Graduate School professer lead a discussion about reading, education and raising our children to love learning.  It wasn't about potty training, timeouts, meal time or playdates (not that those aren't discussions I have with other smart moms on a daily basis).  

When I got back in Mr. Mint's car to go home.  I savored whatever it was that I was feeling.  I refreshed my lip gloss, even though I was headed home.  I turned up the radio again.  And there it was in a flash.  That feeling I couldn't put my finger on earlier was me feeling like no one's mommy.  No one was asking me to pull over so they could pick up the water bottle they just dropped.  No one was yelling for me to turn up their favorite song at the same time someone else was asking me to turn the music down so they could tell me something.  No one was bickering.  There was no echo of "mommy, mommy, mommy, MOMMY."  There was just me, the radio and the road.  When I got home all I had to unload was myself.   I felt young and refreshed.

Lately I've been thinking about why driving my husband's car was such an intense experience for me.  Have you ever seen that Suave commercial?  This one:

That is totally me.  Except I tried Suave and it didn't really make me beautiful and youthful again.  

I have immersed myself in being the mommy for the past six years and I have lost a little bit of the person I was before.  I still care about my appearance, but it is hard to find the energy some days to really put an effort into it.  Wearing sweats just seems so much more practical and comfortable for days when I will only be dropping off kids here and there and coming home to clean up the breakfast dishes and read blogs.  I do "dress up" for when I am in one of the kids classrooms, have an appointment or plan to meet someone for lunch or coffee.  But my "mom" wardrobe is very different from when I has a full time office job.

Being a stay at home mom has suited me just fine for the most part.  But what I am starting to realize six years in is that motherhood is amazing and wonderful and fulfilling, but is not the end all, be all of life.  And that is OK.  I'm hard on myself as a mother and want to craft a magical childhood for my children.  I enjoy them and I'm nuts about them.  But they also suck the life out of me sometimes.  Why do I need an evening alone and a drive in a nice car to remind me of my old self?  Why does she need to be lost?  She would be a good mother too.

What I have been asking myself is what am I really teaching them by having not much of a life outside of being their mom.   I don't want my girls, or my son for that matter to grow up thinking moms wear sweats everyday and only venture outside the house for groceries, book club and to vote.  I need to find a way to be The Mommy and The Un-Mommy at the same time.  It's a struggle sometimes.

I am making myself sound pretty pathetic, which in reality I am not (I hope).   I don't have all the answers.  I just know that I need to show my kids that there is more to life than listening to Camp Rock songs in the car.    

Perhaps I'll take a class at a community college.  Or maybe I'll just take Mr. Mint's car out for a spin more often.

About Me

I have a category of my blog called, "about me."  Isn't that sort of silly?  Aren't all my posts "about me" since it's, you know, MY blog?  

Just a thought.

Not About Sunshine, Lollipops and Rainbows

Lately I've been feeling a little "off."  Every time I sit down to write something I get discouraged because I sound like a whiner.  I figure I'll just write about all the things that are bothering me.  Maybe if I get it all out, I can move on.  So if you are looking for sunshine lollipops and rainbows, this may not be the post for you.  Come back in a few days.

This is going to sound nuts, but the weather here in the Bay Area is really starting to bother me.  It's October and the temperature has been between 80 and 90 degrees in the afternoon.  I love summer and I embrace the hot weather for the summer months.  But summer is OVER.  I am ready for hot cocoa and pajamas with feet.  I want to wear jeans and sweaters and closed toe shoes rather than flip flops.  I want to walk to the end of my driveway to get the trash cans without sweating.  I want to bundle up my kids and splash in rain puddles.  Then bring them inside, build a fire and eat soup with crusty french bread in front of a movie.   ENOUGH with the Indian summer already.  

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My house.  I won't elaborate on this one, since you've heard it all before.  But I am hosting a parent get together for Gloppy's preschool here on Wednesday and my house has a loooong way to go before it's considered presentable.  I have a lot to do between now and Wednesday.  

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Mr. Mint and I had a fight last weekend.  A scream at each other in front of the kids, nasty fight.  It was mostly my fault.  I can admit when I've screwed up.  No one was unfaithful or anything like that, but it was a big fight.  He hasn't really said more than two words to me all week.  Not that I don't deserve the silent treatment, but can we just talk about it and move on now!!   I get it.  You have been angry at me about this for a long time and now I get it.  You win.  I'm sorry.  

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I'm just going to come out and say it.  Neither one of our presidential candidates really gets me excited.  I don't really like to talk about politics.  Not because I don't have opinions about it, but more because others have such strong opinions this year.  I am definitely leaning in one direction and for reasons I feel strongly about, but you won't hear me lay those out on my blog.  I admire those that do and are so very well informed.  Our country is in a bad place right now and I don't really think one man, be it McCain or Obama can change it all on his own.   

I am terrified and discouraged about the state of our economy.  Mr. Mint works for an investment bank and for the first time I am scared about the future of his company and his job.  He has been telling me for at least two years that things are getting bad and we are headed for a serious depression, but I blew him off.  Americans have been living beyond their means and it is finally time to pay the piper.  Fortunately, Mr. Mint is a smart man and we did not buy a house that we couldn't really afford.  We may not be able to remodel it as quickly or as elaborately as I had once hoped, but don't cry for me.   My kids attend a great public school and have shoes on their feet.   I used to shop with out much thought as to wether or not we truly needed what I was buying or if we could afford it.   I would go on a shopping spree and buy the kids some cute outfits they didn't really need and Mr. Mint would get angry and tell me about the coming recession and blah, blah, blah.   Well now I get it.   I scrutinize things at the grocery store and ask myself if it is really necessary to buy Gloppy another train for his train set just to avoid a tantrum in the toy store.   I opt for the store brand and the tantrum.

I don't think either candidate has a plan to get us out of this mess and I don't think one person can get us out of this mess.  I am almost glad that the housing market has blown up.  It's painful for lots of people, but at least things can get back to normal.  Buying a house should be something that you work hard for and earn because you sacrificed and saved money for a down payment and have good credit.  

Every Saturday on the soccer sidelines it's all we talk about with the other parents: the election, the economy, the stock market.  I see the worry in the face of my friend who is paying two mortgages right now, just reduced the price her house she's trying to sell.  Her husband works for a hedge fund.  She is worried sick.

I'll vote for the candidate I think will instill hope in people and possible restore the rest of the world's faith in America.   There is really no point to my rambling other than I am disappointed with where we are right now and I don't think either McCain or Obama will save us.  

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Gloppy.  His leg is much better, but he still walks with a noticeable limp.  He holds his own at preschool, but I think it is difficult for him to hobble around amidst 15 other kids running and pushing.  He is beyond tired when I pick him up.  He basically has been testing my patience since he injured himself.  He has tantrums at the drop of a hat and hits me when I try to calm him down.  I am trying to remain calm, but sometimes I feel like losing it at the end of the day.  He has been in time out more often that I care to admit. 

I know this will pass and he will be back to him normal, charming, loving self at some point.  But right now I am not enjoying three years old.

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Just so I don't leave you feeling depressed and discouraged... I'll leave you with this.

Job History

My first job out of college was as a receptionist at a head hunting firm, or as they like to call themselves, an executive search firm.   In order to be a successful head hunter you need to have a big ego and be just a little bit crazy.  I loved the job and the crazy people who worked there.  They had a whole floor in a fancy building.  They worked hard, and they played hard.  There was always someone to grab drinks with after work and I made some really good friends there.  I loved getting dressed up, taking the bus to work and feeling like a real grown-up.

It was the early nineties and there were only two computers in the whole office.  I had one that I used to type letters and resumes and the accountant had the other one.  There was no e-mail and no internet.  That meant that when people were bored they came to the front desk to chat with the receptionist.  Since I also answered all their phone calls, I knew everyone's secrets.  I knew who was taking Prozac, whose kid was about to be suspended for getting caught smoking pot, whose wife was having an affair, who was looking for a new job and who had a boyfriend and a girlfriend.  

The only problem was the pay.  I barely made enough to pay my rent and make my student loan payments.  If I needed new shoes or groceries, I had to dip into my savings.  After about a year, I had enough of the "fun job" and wanted a job where I used my brain.  Beside, by then everyone had a computer and e-mail, so the front desk chit chats were less frequent.  The thing about head hunters though, is they have lots of connections.

They helped me land a great job in the Human Resources department of our local trash and recycling company.  It doesn't sound very glamorous, but the work was interesting and the pay was decent.  At least the offices were across the highway from the landfill so the smell wasn't too bad.  There were only four people in the HR department: myself, another twenty-something woman who was a single mom, the head of HR and his assistant.  The head of HR was an ex-military guy who ran things very much like me was still in the army.  He insisted everyone in the department call him Mr. Duncan* and treated us more like minions than co-workers.  He sat in his office with the door closed a lot, so we had a lot of time to make wise cracks about Mr. Duncan behind his back.   I stuck it out for a little over a year, but decided to quit when I realized the company was run by a bunch of old boys, and I had enough of Mr. Duncan.

After that I worked a few temporary jobs.  I spent a week giving handwriting samples for a tech company working on handwriting recognition software, various phone answering jobs and even taught preschool for a short time.  One temp job I had was for a big ice cream company in the East Bay.  My job was to input entries for a contest into their database.  The contest was to come up with a new ice cream flavor and the five winners got a trip to their factory to create the flavor and vie for the grand prize.  I spent two weeks there entering people's ice cream flavor ideas.  The most popular flavor idea sent in was some sort of combination of chocolate and raspberries.  I had a great time there and they even offered me a full time job.  I turned it down though because of the commute.  But the real reason was that they kept their kitchen stocked with all kinds of ice cream that employees could help themselves to anytime they wanted.  I knew having unlimited access to all that ice cream would lead to very bad things for me.

I ended up getting a job at an investment bank.  Things were good.  It was an interesting job with lots of perks.  It was the dot com boom, so there was always a new and exciting deal going on.  The head of the company would come around with a beer cart on Friday afternoons.  I worked with smart people who knew how to celebrate success.  I also met a guy at the company Christmas party and we started dating.  After that young guy and I decided to move in together I decided to look for another job.  Living together and working together was getting to be a bit much.   I spent four years there and walked away with some great work experience and a husband!

My next job was at a management consulting firm.  I didn't work as a consultant, but had a job that I loved behind the scenes.  Not only were my co-workers smart, they were genuinely nice people.  It was a fantastic place to work.  People respected each other and they didn't just talk about new ways to do things.  If someone had a good idea, they implemented it and gave it a try.   Men were given paternity leave and new mothers had the option of flexible hours when they returned from maternity leave.   The kitchen was stocked with healthy snacks as well as cookies and soda.  I truly enjoyed my job.  I worked there for 6 years before I left after the birth of Lolly and Frostine.

I still keep in touch with most of the people I worked with there.  I miss the office, my job and the free snacks.  I haven't worked in an office for the past six years.  People often ask me if I plan to go back to work at some point.  I really don't know.  Right now it doesn't make any sense for our family.  Especially with Mr. Mint on the road so often.   I have been feeling that pull for something more in my life, but I am not sure what.  Right now, blogging fills the void.  I loved my previous job, but not enough to give up time with my kids.  If/when I do go back to work, I have no idea what path my career would take.  Going back to an office job after spending six years making bottles, doing dishes and watching Diego scares the daylights out of me.  I figure I will know when the time is right and maybe my sister and I will open the housewares store we always talk about.  

What do you love about your job?  What do you hate about it?  What do you think makes a job great?  Inquiring minds want to know.

*Not his real name

Fair Warning

OK, I just need to warn you.  I am going to put up three posts today.  I know, crazy right!?  This first one is just some completely random thoughts.  The next one will be my picks for the BFL.  The final post will be about my recent blog angst.  So you've been warned.

Random thought #1:

I am sick as a dog.  (Where did that phrase come from?  Do dogs even get sick?)  Anyway, I am not sure which one of my three kids brought home this illness but it sucks.  Yesterday afternoon I felt so terrible I put some TV on for my kids and went upstairs to take a nap.  I have never done this before.  I told them not to answer the door or the phone and to come get me if anything caught on fire.  After about 10 minutes, Lolly came upstairs with a jar of spaghetti sauce and asked me if it was salsa.  I said no, and described what the salsa jar looked like.  I knew in my head that this did not bode well for my couches or living room rug, but I didn't care.  Thank heavens Mr. Mint came home a little early or I don't think my kids would have got dinner.  Or else I would have just handed them some dried pasta and a jar of spaghetti sauce.

This morning I could barely get the girls ready for school.  After I fixed their breakfast they got out some kind of craft and proceeded to spill glitter all over the couch and spread beads and tiny pieces of string all over the floor.  Again, I didn't care.  When it was time to leave for school I asked them to clean up and get dressed.  In my head I was screaming, "it's not f***ing craft time, it's time to get ready for school!!!!!"  I may have said this out loud.  I'm not really sure.

At any rate, Gloppy is at my in-law's, the girls made it to school and I am alone until 2:45pm.  But here I am typing away when all I want to do is take some NyQuil and go curl up in my bed.  See how much I love you dear readers?

Random thought #2

Sleepovers.  Lolly and Frostine who just turned six have their very first sleep over party tonight.  I am not sure how I feel about this.  Part of me thinks they are way too young and the other part of me thinks, "hooray!  Mr. Mint and I get the night off since Gloppy can stay at my in-law's!!  Bring on the booze!!"  Too bad I fear I won't be able to get my @ss off the couch in order to enjoy our night alone.  

The girls are super excited about the sleepover and I think it will go just fine.  It's not like they have never spent the night away from us.  They have spent several nights at my in-law's and my sister's house.   My beloved sister-in-law even took them to Disneyland without us when they were only 4 years old and it turned out great.  

Besides, we know the family very well and they don't live too far from us.  I think I am just writing all this trying to convince myself that they are old enough for a sleepover party.  Now I just need to go buy them some new sleeping bags since theirs have Disney princesses on them and they informed me this morning that it's not cool to have a princess sleeping bag in first grade.  Who am I to argue?

Random thought #3

Facebook.  I have resisted joining Facebook for a while now.  I enjoy making fun of my husband and his 100+ "friends" they way he enjoys making fun of my blog and my "imaginary friends."  But then I got a message from a friend from college and I couldn't say no to her.  So I joined Facebook.  It's a little strange and I only have 8 friends so far.   That's all I have to say about that right now.  I'll keep you updated on my friend count.

Random thought #4

Link!  My friend Marinka linked me in her post yesterday.  I have never met Marinka in real like, but her blog is one of my favorites.  I hope she doesn't mind that I called her my friend even though we've never met.  Maybe I should call her my friendrinka.  

Anyway, if you don't already read her, you should because she is wickedly funny and every time she leaves a comment here I have to make sure I am not drinking anything that would hurt if it came streaming out of my nose.   I love Marinka my friendrinka.  Go read her lastest post and leave her a question.  

That's all I got for now.  I am going to make some tea and do my BFL picks now.  Wish me luck.

p.s. I am not going to proofread this, so please accept my apology for the many typos I am sure you will find.  

Blog Regret

I am feeling remorseful about this post.  It sort of feels like I've been talking about my mom behind her back.  I honestly started the post as way to make fun of myself for having a toothbrush collecting problem, but clearly it morphed into something completely different.   I don't want my mother to be defined here by the fact that she is compulsive hoarder.  

She is also an amazing grandmother and a woman who has led a rich life.   It can't have been easy to be an Air Force nurse in the early sixties, but she talks fondly of her time in the military and I know she had some amazing experiences.  She was not a woman who went from her father's house straight to her husband's.  She had a career and a whole life of her own before meeting my father, getting married and starting a family.   She had her own apartment in North Beach in San Francisco.  She hung out with poets and volunteered at Planned Parenthood.

My mother rarely talks about her life before kids or why she packed up and left Minnesota after she graduated from nursing school.  I know there is so much more to her than  I know about.   I want to know more of that woman and I want my daughters and my son to know more about that woman.   Why she is reluctant to talk about it is a mystery to me.

One of reasons I started this blog is to have a written record of my thoughts for my children to read someday.  I don't want there to be any unknowns for them about who I am or how I feel about being their mother.  I also want them to know that there is more to me than motherhood.   I want them to feel comfortable talking to me about anything, even when they are adults.  To have that kind of relationship with anyone, there can't be any secrets or holding back.

Mr. Mint and I lived with my mom toward the end of my pregnancy with Lolly and Frostine and for the first four months after they were born while our house was being remodeled.  They were both colicky and I had a really hard time those first few months.  I was on the edge of totally losing it.  My mom once remarked, "I don't remember you guys crying this much as babies."  That is not what I needed to hear.  The comment made me feel like a failure since I could not get my babies to stop crying.   It was the beginning of a chasm between us that sadly has grown over the years as my screaming babies have grown into little girls.

I will probably be writing a lot about my mother in the coming weeks, months, hopefully years.  She turned 74 this year and while she still looks like she's in her sixties, she is diabetic and had a triple bypass a few years ago.  Her memory and sharp wit has been declining and lately seems to be getting much, much worse.  I fear we are headed to a place my sister and I have dreaded for a long time.   

She drives me bananas sometimes and it helps for me to write about it and work through some of our issues here.  I just need to state that aside from our differences and inability to "get" each other lately, I have great respect for my mom.   She adores her grandchildren and I am so glad my issues with my mom have not filtered down to my kids.  They love her to pieces.  

There is so much more to say and so much more blog material here.  But for now I just needed to let you all know that just as there is more to me than motherhood, there is more to my mom than compulsive hoarding.  

At Least My Kids Will Have Clean Teeth

I haven't written very much here about my mother.  We have complicated relationship, filled with mixed emotions.  I love her and respect her more than you can imagine, but for some reason we have been unable to form a healthy adult relationship.  It's gotten worse since I became a mother.  How painful it is to type that sentence.

My mother has not had an easy life.  Her father was an alcoholic and abusive to her mother.  She was very close to her mom, who passed away shortly after my mom started college.  She rarely speaks about it, but I think she was devastated.  After graduating from nursing school in Minnesota, she packed up all her belongings and moved out to San Francisco with some school friends leaving her family and the only life she'd known behind.   She joined the Air Force as a flight nurse and travelled the world.  That's where she met my father and decided to get married at the age of 32.  I think waiting until after you turned 30 to get married was rare in the early sixties.  

After nearly eleven years of marriage and two children she found out my father had an affair and my parents divorced.  My memory is pretty fuzzy, but I don't think the divorce was even final when my father was diagnosed with cancer.  He died nine months later.  Within that same year, my mother's best friend committed suicide.  So there she was a stay at home mom turned widow, but not technically a widow, with two young girls to raise.  As you can imagine, she was emotionally a wreck.  

But the eight year old me had no idea how hard things were for her.  She did everything she could to put on a brave a face for my sister and I and make our lives as normal as possible.  My family is a family of secrets.  They come from a place of "don't talk about the bad stuff, put a smile on your face and move forward."  So I don't think my mother ever really dealt with the crap she was handed.   She went about the business of earning a living and raising her daughters.  She never dated again after my father's death

I am not a psychologist by any means, but I think that all of those things above have contributed to the fact that she is a compulsive hoarder.  You know, where she can't throw anything away and there are small paths throughout the house to get to the toilet, the bed, the shower, etc.  

this used to be my sister's childhood bedroom

It started with the refrigerator of all things.  I remember being in junior high and embarrassed to open the fridge if I had friends over.  There is barely room in there to fit a can of soda and she lives by herself.  She has more stuff crammed in there than I have in my fridge to feed my family of five.  From the fridge, it moved on to the garage.  There is a large storage area above the garage that is filled with all my toys and furniture from childhood.  Once that was full, the stairs to the storage area started to fill up.  You can't even make it up the stairs any longer.  She hasn't been able to park her car in her two car garage for years.   

mom's master bedroom

She saves magazines, wrapping paper, random purchases from TJ Maxx.  One of the cupboards in her kitchen is full of dog biscuits, leashes and dog dishes.  Our dog died 15 years ago and she has no plans to get another one.  There's no where to sit and eat a meal because her dining table is covered with stacks and stacks of papers.  Her bathroom is filled with bags of random shampoo and conditioner bottles with just a few drops left in them.  

I could go on and on, but you get the idea.  My sister and I estimate it will takes us weeks if not months to clean out her house when the time comes.  She only lives about 10 minutes from me, but I rarely let my kids go over there because it's just too dangerous.  She knows she has a problem, but it would be incredibly difficult for her to let go of her piles.  I know she'd be mortified if she knew I put pictures of her house on the internet, but she doesn't read my blog.  She doesn't even own a computer.  More people know about her compulsion than she will admit to herself.  She hasn't had any of her close friends over in years, they must know.  My sister and I have tried to intervene to no avail.  It's like an addiction.

Maybe as a result of the state of my mom's house, I tend to lean in the other direction.  I throw everything away.  It makes me feel good to clean things out and get rid of them.  I don't like clutter and it's easier for me to relax when my house is clean and organized.  

I do have one little problem though.  Toothbrushes.  I have a strange urge to buy my kids new toothbrushes every time I'm at the drug store.  I am powerless to resist the latest toothbrush innovations, characters my kids love, toothbrushes that play music or toothbrushes with little suction cups that stick to the wall.  That is all well and good, but then I can't throw the old ones away.  Then they get new toothbrushes every six months at the dentist's office.   Therefore we have a toothbrush collection that looks like this:

Is there such a thing as compulsive toothbrush hoarding?  PsychMamma?  Anyone?

In all seriousness, I know that compulsive hoarding is no laughing matter.  My sister and I discuss it often and it breaks our hearts to know that we will probably never have a meal at her house again and our kids will have no memories of playing at Grammy's house.  Not to mention the fact that her house is clearly a dangerous fire hazard.   We are at a loss.  Her compulsion/addiction not only hurts her, it hurts her family and friends and it has damaged my relationship with her.

I've merely scratched the surface of my multi-faceted relationship with my mom in this post.  I'm sure I'll revisit the subject.  

Mama Ginger Tree's Readers Interview Mama Ginger Tree

Thank you to everyone to responding to my call for interview questions.  I shall now attempt to answer your questions...

Heart at Preschool (otherwise known as my sister) wants to know:  If you spent one entire day with each of your kids separately, what would you do with each one?

Gloppy has a way of turning every outing into an adventure, even a trip to Target.  But that's boring.  So I would start the day out at the park and bring his bike along.  I don't take him to the park as often as I did with the girls partly because there is never time and partly because I am kind of over it.  But Gloppy adores going to the park.  Then we'd head over to California Pizza Kitchen for some lunch.  After lunch we'd go home and take a nap together on my bed.  In the afternoon I'd take him to the zoo and pick up Indian food on the way home for dinner since it's his favorite.   

With Lolly we'd start the day out at Jamba Juice for breakfast.  Then I'd take her to the Discovery Museum.  She loves it there and there is a lot to do for a six year old.   After a picnic lunch we'd head home.   We'd then spend some time reading together on the couch and having a snack.  She asks me for snacks every hour on the hour.  After our quiet time I'd take her for a bike ride at Sawyer Camp Trail.   We'd stop half way for a snack.  On the way home we'd pick up Indian food for dinner since it's her favorite.  After a quick bath we'd make some popcorn and watch a movie before bed.

Frostine and I would sleep in a little bit.  After breakfast we'd pack a lunch and head to the beach.  After building sand castles and running around in the waves we'd eat our lunch and head home.  For some quite time we'd sit and do some puzzles together or flip through her Highlights magazine and do the Hidden Pictures together.  In the afternoon we'd kick the soccer ball around together in the backyard and take a break for ice tea and cookies.  She'd help me make bbq chicken and baked potatoes for dinner.  After a quick bath we'd make some popcorn and watch a movie before bed.

On the fourth day I would be too tired to get out of bed.

Kate asks:  If you could go back to high school and do something differently - what would you change? (and this is pretty open - could be a general attitude or a very specific incident - up to you)

Good question.  I was pretty happy in high school.  I'd like to tell the high school Mama Ginger Tree not to spend so much time worrying about boys and more time studying.  But the one thing I would change would be to get involved in more sports.  I played soccer for a couple of years, but looking back I wish I would have stuck with it and maybe played tennis as well.  

Melissa (whose blog I just discovered and I'm so glad because she is fantastic) wonders:  Since I have a mixed marriage as well, here's an interesting question for you: What "box" do you check for your children? As in the ethnicity box.  And why.

I am Caucasian (Norwegian) and Mr. Mint is East Indian.  I always pause over the "ethnicity box" on forms for my kids.  I wonder in this day and age how many people check "other" or "decline to state."  I have thought about checking "Asian" since technically India is in Asia, but then what about their "caucasian-ness?"  I usually check "other" and write underneath "half Caucasian half Indian."  My kids identify more with being Indian than they do with being Norwegian.  I think they sometimes feel sorry for me being the only non-Indian in our house.  I wish there was a box for "Norwindian."  Then this would not be an issue.

Do you think I used too many quotation marks in that answer?

Maura wants to know:  Since you put it out there, I am curious about how you handle the differences in culture between your background and your husband's. From what I've heard in stories from various co-workers who share his family's background (in general, of course, since I don't know his specifically), it can be very difficult to not fall in line with cultural expectations.

Also, the female version of boxers or briefs: bikini, briefs or thong?

Excellent question.  It's one I get asked all the time when people find out my husband is Indian.  It has not always been an easy road for us.  Let's just say Mr. Mint's family was not too happy about his choice in a wife when they first met me.  We had been dating for 3 years and were living together before he even told his parents that he had a girlfriend.  Once they got to know me things began to get easier.  There are still some members of his extended family that treat me like an outcast, but 95% of them are welcoming and treat me like part of the family.  

I know it bothers his parents that our kids don't speak Gujarati and that I am not able to teach them their religion or traditions.  But I am completely open to his parents taking them to temple and teaching them about their traditions.  My kids LOVE being Indian and learning about the Gods and the holidays and all the rituals.  Before we had kids we decided that we would expose them to both my religion (I'm Lutheran) and my husbands and let them decide what if any religion they want to be a part of. 

My husband's aunts and cousins have taught me so much about their culture and how to cook Indian food.  It is definitely the women who pass on the traditions and uphold their values.  I sometimes say the wrong thing or once I ate some grapes that my mother-in-law and her sister had prepared specially as an offering to the Gods.  Oops! 

So after a rough start, we seem to have found a way to make it all work.  

And bikini briefs!  I've never been able to wear a thong.  It feels like wearing no underwear at all.  :-)

Stella Blue poses the question: I'm curious about your thoughts on the upcoming election - you don't need to reveal your party affiliation (if any) unless you want to.  Just general thoughts on having a woman and a mixed-race man on the major tickets.

I love this question.  I am not usually one to get very political, but this election has me fired up in a way I haven't been since college.  I am thrilled that we are at a point in our nation where we could have a mixed-race man for president.  I adore Michelle Obama for many reasons, but this post sums it up better than I could.  I think the Obama's are a family that my kids could actually relate to.  

While I am excited that McCain picked a woman, I am not so excited about Sarah Palin herself.  Years ago, I liked McCain and thought he seemed like an intelligent, fair-minded leader.  But Sarah Palin being one person away from the presidency is a little scary.  This post really states the reasons why for me.   

It's an exciting time in our history and I hope my kids can grasp that one day.

Anymommy wants to know:  Favorite book you've ever read? Favorite movie? Favorite place you've visited? 

I have so many favorite books!  Every time I start to type a title, another one pops into my head.  I will choose three.  I absolutely loved The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger.  It was picked by my book club and I thought I wouldn't like it, but I did not want it to end.  Loved it!  Another is The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck.  My book club did a year of classics and this was one that I never read in school.  It sounds terribly boring, but trust me, if you have never read it you are missing out on a fantastic story.  And I  have to mention Extremely Lound and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer.  It's about a boy whose father dies on September 11th.  Not exactly a happy book, but it captures so well what it feels like to lose a parent.  That book really spoke to me.  Lastly, The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri.  I love reading books by Indian authors, but this one in particular gave me great appreciation for how my husband must feel as a first generation American being raised in the US by Indian parents.  Don't see the movie, read the book.  Oops, I guess that was four.  I could go on and on with books, but I'll leave it at that. 

Before I had kids I used to go through 3 or 4 Netflix movies a week.  Now I am lucky if I see one or two a month.  One of my all time favorite movies is Strictly Ballroom.  Not a well known movie, but worth renting.  I also loved Monsoon Wedding because it reminded me so much of my husband's family.   More recently (sort of) I liked The Departed.

My favorite place I have visited would be Brugge in Belgium.  My husband and I spent two of our most romantic days there when we were newly married.  It is a charming little town.  It's like stepping into a snapshot of European history.  The cobble stone streets, the architecture, the museums, the shops... all of it was amazing.  We ate in some of the most cozy, delicious restaurants I have ever been to.  If you ever get a chance, it is a city worth visiting.

PhychMamma has several questions:  

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?  I would like to live in London.  It's a city that my husband was born in and he still has lots of family there.  It is also a place that is easily accessible to the rest of Europe for exploring.  I'd like to spend a year or so there.  Then I'd like to spend a year in my husband's home town in Gujarat, India.  It would be great for my kids to learn their father's native tongue and for all of us to experience India together.  Then I would come home to the SF Bay Area.  :-) 

What's one thing you wish you would have done differently in your life?  I wish I would have majored in English or History in college.  I have a business degree and I could have done any of the previous jobs without it.  I got mediocre grades in all my business classes, but pulled A's and B's in my literature and history classes.  

What's your biggest fear?  Home invasion or something terrible happening to one of my kids.

What's the hardest thing about being a mom?  Good question!  Right now it's finding time to spend one on one time with each of my kids.  It's also hard for me to remember that I don't have to feel guilty about spending Saturday morning getting a pedicure.

What's the best thing about being a mom? 

Need I say more?  Watching your kids discover the world gives you a whole new perspective on life.  

Name one person that you greatly admire and tell us why.   That is a tough question.  I admire people who can cook.  I admire people who have superior writing skills.  I admire people who teach.  It's hard to think of one person.  I think I might revisit this question with it's own post.

There you have it.  Thanks again to everyone that asked a question.  

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. 

Extended Vacations and Disconnections

**UPDATED BELOW**

So we made it back from our little lake vacation.   I hope you enjoyed my guest posters.  Thanks for being nice to them.  Weren't they great?

We had a phenomenal time.  Just like we hoped there was lots of jumping off the dock into the lake, riding a giant inner-tube behind the boat, afternoon walks to the ice-cream shop, barbecuing every night, bonding with our cousins during moonlight boat rides in our pjs.  

You can read more about our adventures at my sister's blog here, here and here.  Just look at my adorable family and how much fun they're having.

I know right?!?!  We all wished we could have stayed another week.  It was hard to say goodbye to the lake.

Mr. Mint is currently in the middle of a mandatory two week vacation.  This is the first time since our honeymoon eight years ago that he has taken this much time off work.  And by "time off work" I mean no conference calls, no checking e-mail every five seconds and not being glued to CNN until the stock market closes at 1pm PST.   Every vacation we've ever taken together has involved at least some of the above for at least part if not all of the trip.  It's a little annoying.  But his company instituted this "mandatory 2 week vacation" policy this year that states that they must be completely out of touch with work for 2 straight weeks.  

Before you start thinking, "wow, how great that they want their employees to take time away and be with their families," let me just set the record straight.   Mr. Mint works for an investment bank and the purpose of the mandatory two weeks off is so that if they were embezzling money or had some other shady business going on, being unable to cover their tracks at work for two weeks would blow their cover.  

Whatever the reasoning, it's been great.  So great in fact that we decided that rather than hang out at home for the second week, we'd rent another vacation house and enjoy a last hoorah of summer '08.  We are currently sipping wine at a fantastic rental in Calistoga.  Life is not so bad when this is your view, they have a wireless internet connection, and your husband is not allowed to call into work:

I haven't been here for a few days since we've been busy unpacking, repacking, driving and settling in at our new temporary home.  I can barely coax the kids out of the pool to eat lunch.  Yesterday afternoon we ran out of wine, so Mr. Mint just cruised down the road to pick up a few bottles from here.  He took Lolly with him and she got to pick some grapes right off the vines.  Tonight we will attempt to take the kids to a fancy restaurant for dinner and tomorrow we'll have a picnic at one of our favorite wineries.  So don't cry for me.  

Mr. Mint is having a little bit of a hard time with this mandatory 2 weeks off thing.  He makes an ideal employee... incredible work ethic, fiercely loyal, can't relax until he answers every last e-mail and returns every last phone call.  It's one of the things I respect about him, but it's hard on our family sometimes.  I can see him itching to check his stocks, peek at his e-mail or jump when his cell phone rings. 

While we were at the lake with my sister's family, my brother-in-law took a few conference calls, constantly checked his e-mail, etc.  In the middle of the week he got a message from his boss saying that employees weren't allowed to put "out of office" messages on their voice mail or e-mail when they were on vacation.   Am I the only one who finds that ridiculous?    I know we as Americans must work hard to keep the world safe for capitalism, but when did we become a nation that isn't allowed to take a vacation?  God forbid your clients actually know you took some time off to relax and get to know your family again.   In the month of August no less.  At least in my experience, it's rare to completely disconnect from one's office in this age of blackberries, wireless internet we all love so much and cell phone service with five bars wherever you may roam.    I was feeling a little guilty about not having time to post on this blog for a few days and no one pays me for it or keeps track of how often I write.   

All of this is great for the companies we work for, but not so great for our families and children.  I have been staring at my screen for a few minutes trying to come up with some closing thought for this post, but my mind is blank.  So maybe I will revisit this rant another time.  Right now my kids are "bored, bored, bored" and begging me to shut my computer.  I'm going to pour myself another glass of wine and jump into the pool with my family.

**Right after I hit publish on this post I grabbed the kids and we all jumped into the pool.  About 5 minutes later, Mr. Mint came down to join us.  He jumped into to the pool with his Blackberry in his back pocket.  I'm not sure what this means.**

Heather O'Hara From Cupertino, Ca

The day my mom dropped me off at California Lutheran University was one of the scariest days of my life.  I was so very ready for college and all it had to offer, but I was terrified to be on my own.  My mom and sister help me set up my dorm room, find the cafeteria and then they left.  I immediately broke out in hives.  I was scared to death.

Bu then Heather O'Hara from Cupertino asked me to go to dinner.  She was my roommate.  A bright, sunny red-headed girl with a passion for Mustangs.  She was so chipper it was almost freaky.   That first night we sat up getting to know each other.  I shared some popcorn from my electric popcorn maker and she marveled at the fact that I didn't like beer.   CLU is a very small place and 90% of students live on campus for all four years.  We shared a bedroom our entire four years and became inseparable.  

Heather was the life of the party and spontaneous, while being kind hearted and nurturing at the same time.   We rarely argued about typical roommate stuff.  I won the roommate lottery getting paired up with Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, Ca.   We took crazy road trips, pulled all nighters, dated the bad boys, went to Chapel (almost) every Wednesday, went to three Steve Miller concerts together and did all manner of crazy co-ed stuff.  Always together.   I once told her if she were a guy I would marry her.

We became each other's family away from our real families.  Heather O'Hara from Cupertino was the one who took me to the emergency room when I fell into a patch of cactus with a cute boy.  I sat in that same ER with her for three hours while she waited to be diagnosed with mono.   She held my hand and handed me tissues while I cried about whichever boy broke my heart that week.  She always had my back no matter what, and I had hers.  We would stay up late into the night sharing a Sara Lee Banana Cake and spill our deepest, darkest secrets with each other.  I once told someone one of her secrets and she found out.  She accepted my apology and never held a grudge.   She was that awesome.

Me and Heather, circa 1992

After we graduated, we got ourselves an apartment in the big city and real jobs.  That is when things started to change.   Heather O'Hara from Cupertino was miserable.  She was ready to be a grown up, while I was still having a hard time letting go of the college student lifestyle.  While I embraced living in the city, she was clearly not enjoying it.  When she decided to move back to her hometown (which is Cupertino, not too far from SF), I was pissed.  This was not part of our plan.   We grew apart.  We briefly reconnected and she made an effort, but I was not in a great place and I blew her off.    I meant to call.  Days turned into weeks.  Weeks turned into months.  Months turned into years.  

My mom absolutely adored Heather O'Hara from Cupertino and asks me about her often.  I get snappy and mad when she asks me if I've ever heard from her.  I'm not at my mom for asking.  I'm angry at myself.  Because this is just plain wrong and thinking about her makes me want to cry.  We didn't attend each others weddings.  She has never seen my kids or met my husband.  It seriously hurts my heart just to type that.    It's just not right.

I'm sure by now you're asking yourself why I don't just call her already.  I've tried.  I've tried Googling her name in every fashion I can think with no luck.  I'm sure she's married by now and has a new last name.  I've tried out alumni association, but they can't find her either.  I've Googled her brother's name as well as her parent's.  No luck.  I even went to far as to contact the church she used to attend in Cupertino, but they never answered my e-mail.

Which leads me to the whole point of this post.  Maybe, just maybe Heather O'Hara from Cupertino will Google her maiden name and come across my little blog.  Maybe someone who knows how to contact her will come across this.  I know she'd be mortified to have all this personal information about her on the internet.

It's a long shot, but I want so badly to reconnect with her.   So Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, send me an e-mail (mamagingertree@gmail.com).  Please.  I owe you an apology and I want to know what path your life has taken.  I want to sit down with you and relive those life changing years we shared.   I miss you terribly.

Go hug your friends old and new.  Forgive them.   Call them.  Tell them you love them.  Make the effort not to lose touch with the ones that really matter.  The amazing, should be life-long friends like Heather O'Hara from Cupertino, Ca.

Panic Button

Mr. Mint travels for work.  A lot.  I have a tremendous amount of respect for single parents.  Being all things to all people 24/7 is draining, emotionally and physically.  Lately he's been gone quite a bit.  

When my twins were infants I would be paralyzed by fear when he was out of town.   It was so hard for me to make it through the day knowing that no one was coming home to give me a break at the end of the day.  I had elaborate routines for bathing, feeding and rocking my two infants to sleep.  When they woke up in the middle of the night, both crying, I would sometimes call him in his hotel room just so he could hear what he was missing.  But mostly I would call so I could yell some not so nice things into the phone.   

Over the years I've done plenty of bitching about his travels and the strain it puts on me and the kids.  He's missed teacher conferences, I've had to flake on my book club and it's not like we're taking fancy vacations with all the miles he has racked up like we did before the kids came along.  The reality is that he loves his job and he's good at it.  His job allows me to be at home with our kids, it gives us good health insurance, cute shoes on our kids feet and a house that we love that is walking distance to an award winning public school (something very rare in the SF Bay Area).  For all that I am grateful.   So you can call me a whiner, but don't ever call me an ungrateful whiner.*  

Now that Lolly and Frostine are in school and Gloppy spends one night a week with my in-laws, Mr. Mint's trips, while still annoying, are not the huge source of anxiety they once were for me.  I have my routine with the kids.  I get at least an hour or so to myself during the day.  The kids can occasionally entertain themselves for a short time and are old enough for drop off playdates.  I eat healthier since I don't eat two dinners, one with the kids and one around 8pm with Mr. Mint after the kids are in bed.  No one is around to ask me "why do you watch this crap on TV?"  I get the whole bed to myself and I don't get woken up by any snoring.  I've come to accept that his trips are part of our life and I need to deal with it the best I can.

But lately when he's been gone I've been paralyzed by a different kind of fear.  The fear of rapists and murderers.   Our house is big and echoey when all the kids are in bed and I'm downstairs by myself.   There are a lot of windows with what I consider not very secure window locks.  You can't see our house from the street and it would be easy for someone sinister to walk up our driveway and peer into our windows without any of our neighbors noticing.   Then I watch shows like Dateline and Primetime Crime and my mind starts messing with me.  I start picturing that hunky, witty Chris Hansen narrating the story of my demise.   He'd talk about how my kids slept through all the horror and they'd probably show this photo since it's the only one I have of me with all three of my kids.

 

My sister would talk about how happy we were on that vacation and how she will never let my kids forget their mother.  Then they'd show this photo while Chris interviewed my grieving husband and Mr. Mint talked about what an amazing mother I was and how my kids are in therapy.

I get stuck on the couch because I'm too afraid to turn the lights off and walk upstairs.  Then once I do finally make it upstairs, I stay up way too late reading because I'm afraid to turn my bedside lamp off.  I'm sure the murderer is watching my bedroom window waiting for me to turn the light off and fall asleep so he can attack.   

So all you bad and evil people out there I want you to know that I sleep with this next to my bed.

See that blue button?  That's the "panic" button and it will bring the police straight to my house.  It only takes about 2 minutes for them to get here.  I know this because Gloppy pressed it once while playing with my keys.  There were two big, strapping policemen with hands on their weapons coming up my driveway in what felt like milliseconds.  So if you're thinking of targeting my house and my family, move right along.  I've got a panic button.

*Wow.  How's that for a paragraph full of run on sentences.  Do they give blogger awards for the most run on sentences in a post, because I think I might have a shot.

I Need to Get This Off My Chest

At BlogHer I went to a panel on Naked Blogging.  Naked Blogging is not typing with no clothes on apparently.   Imagine my surprise when I was the only one who showed up in a toga.  

I jest.  Naked Blogging is laying it all out there.   Naked posts are the ones I find most interesting and worth reading.  It can be scary, but if a woman can get up and talk about trying to commit suicide while 7 months pregnant in front of 1,000 women and get a standing ovation AND everyone wants to be her friend (myself included), then I think it's worth it.   Another blogger said that if you aren't a little bit hesitant when you hit publish, then it probably isn't your best writing.  

So anyway, here I am exposing something I would normally keep private.  Two weeks ago I had a breast reduction.  It's was my second one.  I had the first at age 20.  I am 5 feet 2 inches tall and I developed large breasts around my sophmore year in high school.  I learned how to dress to minimize them, but I was always self conscious about it.   I overheard a guy telling someone I had the body of a fox, but the face of a dog once when standing by my locker.  I remember almost every detail of that day.   When I was a senior my mom took me prom dress shopping.  I desperately wanted to buy a cute, lavender strapless number from the Jessica McClintock outlet.  Every dress I tried on that I was able to stuff my boobs into, was dragging on the floor.   If the dress was the right length, I wasn't able to zip it up.  I ended up buying a dress that was two sizes too big and my mom hemmed it for me.   I remember coming home that day and laying face down on my bedroom floor, crying and just willing my damn boobs to shrink.  

Fast-forward to my college years.  By then I was a 36 DD.  When home for the summer after my freshman year and out shopping with my mom, in the dressing room she casually asked me if I would like to talk to someone about having a breast reduction.  Seriously?  Yes, yes, yes.  We made an appointment with a surgeon to get the low down.  The scarring can be pretty severe.  I don't care.  You may not be able to breast feed.   I'm 20, I don't care.  The recovery is long and painful.  I don't care.  

Long story short, I went for it the next summer.  Yes, the recovery was painful.  It was more than a bit awkward to have to explain the scars to every guy that tried to feel me up (I was in college, remember).  But I was thrilled with my new breasts.   I could wear a bikini without feeling like everyone was staring at my chest.  My clothes fit better.  All was right with my body image.

However, 10 years later, I was not able to breast feed my kids.   When I was 20, I wasn't even thinking about children, much less how I was going to feed them.   I gave it a shot.  But it is hard enough to breast feed twins when you haven't had breast surgery, let alone when you have.  I was able to pump a little bit of milk to give them in their bottles, but it was an incredibly painful (and bloody) process.  When I took my twins to their one month check up my pediatrician ask me how breast feeding was going.  I immediately burst into tears.   We ended up having a half hour conversation about it and I gave it up.  I have an incredible amount of guilt about it, but I'm over it now so please keep your breast is best comments to yourself.   I can guarantee you I was a better, more rested mom when I stopped pumping. 

Moving on.

After Gloppy was born my breasts went from a large B back to the DD.  They were heavy and uncomfortable.  I read somewhere that empire waste dresses look great on large chested women.  Well every time I put one on the waste line ran right across my nipple line.   Not exactly a great look.  About two weeks a months my breasts would become so swollen and sore that if someone just grazed one of them, I was in pain. 

Then I read this post.  It had never even occurred to me that I could have the surgery again.   Rebecca is a rock star to me.  I mulled the idea over in my head and finally decided to see a plastic surgeon.  Two weeks ago the amazing Dr. R removed a little over TWO POUNDS of tissue from my chest.  Strap a two pound weight around your neck and walk around for a day.  And (bonus!!) he also lipo-suctioned out some of my back fat.   I am still swollen and sore at this point, but I will end up as a large B, small C.   The recovery has been no picnic.  The doctor sent me home with orders not to lift anything for six weeks.  Um... OK.  Do you realize I have three kids and my laundry is on the first floor and our bedrooms are on the second floor?  And did I mention that I have three kids and my husband travels like a lot?  It still hurts like hell to lift my arms.  Driving sucks.  Every little bump causes a little shock of pain.   And my kids are so over the "be gentle to mommy" thing.  At the end of the day I am so achy from all the hugs, surprise tackles, and daily mom stuff.    I'll spare you the gory details, but if you're interested, check out Rebecca's latest post about breast reduction.  

Despite the pain, I am happy I decided to do it again.  I think I'll be even happier in a couple of months when all the swelling goes down.   My clothes already fit better and when I am able to run on the treadmill again, I know it will be feel more comfortable.   I just feel more like me in my own skin.  

So there you have it, my attempt at naked blogging or blogging like no one's reading (I've always hated that dance like no one is watching crap, but I couldn't resist).  Mr. Mint will be mortified when he reads this post.  I guess some of his co-workers occasionally read my blog.  So if you work with my husband, just pretend you didn't read the one about his wife's boobs and go into his office and tell him how adorable his twin girls are in their dance recital outfits.   Otherwise, feel free to stare at my chest if you know me in real life and ask me anything you like about the surgery.  I am an open shirt... I mean book.

p.s. I usually hate thinking up titles, but this is my best title ever right?  You gotta admit that title kicks ass.

A Different Kind of BlogHer Recap

I've been reading lots of recaps about people's experiences at BlogHer.  You won't find any pictures of me with new soul sisters sipping wine and collecting swag.  You won't here me throw out any inside jokes or talk about how many business cards I collected.  

I went to BlogHer with different expectations, actually no expectations at all.  It was a completely last minute decision to even go.  I found out they had room for me literally a few days before the conference started and since I only live about 20 minutes outside of San Francisco, I decided to check it out.  I am new to blogging and never in a million years pictured myself at one of these conferences.  I went with the intention of attending a few sessions and just finding out what it was all about.   I didn't have a new outfit with matching cute shoes, I desperately need a haircut and I didn't even have a fresh pedicure.

When I walked in I was overwhelmed.  It was way bigger, louder and flashier than I ever could have imagined.   I went to a couple of break-out sessions and then ended up eating lunch alone in my car in the parking garage.  But don't feel sorry for me!  I just needed some fresh air and to chill out for a few.  I didn't attend any of the fabulous parties.  Half of them I didn't know about, and since I just recently had surgery and am still on antibiotics, I couldn't drink anyway.  

But this is not meant to be a pity party!  I felt like this was my "fly on the wall" BlogHer.  It was my way of dipping my feet into the pool before jumping in.  I was perfectly happy with how things went.  I easily could have put myself out there, introduced myself to more people.   I could have sought out my blogging soul sisters and danced the night away.   But I wasn't really feeling like myself and since I decided to go at the last minute, I felt unprepared. 

Next year I will kick BlogHer's ass.  But this year I am happy with my experience.  Now I know what to expect and how to get the most out of it.  I have two favorite recaps.  Click here and here to check them out.  One is from a blogger I did not meet and have never read before, but she was in one of the sessions I attended and I have since checked out her blog.   The other is from a blogger I read often.    BlogHer is like anything else in life.  You get out what you put into it.  And even those who may seem like part of the sorority have moments where they feel just as insecure as everyone else.    

So despite my less than stellar experience, I, like Amy in Ohio, have renewed focus on why I started in this blog in the first place.    If I write from the heart and put myself out there for all the internet to see, for every person who shuns me, a few more will embrace me.   

The Sun Breaking Through the Clouds

So last week was a bitch in the Candy Cane Forest.  I had minor surgery last Tuesday and it knocked me down.  (More on the surgery later... I'm not ready to go there yet).  I had lots of help with the kids, but still.  I was completely useless.   By the time the weekend rolled around, the Candy Cane Kids were tired of being gentle with mama.  They needed their laundry put away, their snacks, their hair washed and their spills cleaned up.  And only mommy would do.   My body is bruised, swollen, sore and I can barely lift my arms.   But I sucked it up and soldiered through the weekend, because that's what moms do.  All I wanted to do was sit on the couch, read my book and have someone bring me club soda with a slice of lime.

I've also been feeling a little sad that I missed the boat on BlogHer.  I hemmed and hawed about attending.  I finally decided it would be silly not take the opportunity, especially when it's being held a mere 20 minutes from my house.  When I clicked on the register button, I was too late my mere minutes.  Oh well.

This week I am slowly coming back to life.  But yesterday I was in a funk.  Mr. Mint was out of town, so I was flying solo.  The house was a mess, the dishes needed to be done and I needed a shower.  But I chose to lay down and take a nap when Gloppy fell asleep for his nap.  Lolly and Frostine were at camp.  I woke just in time to get out the door to go pick them up.  I had to rouse Gloppy from his slumber which I hate doing.  We both had that post nap hazy feeling that seems to be made worse by bright sunlight.

I was feeling crabby and in pain.  When I got to the girls camp, one of the counselors stopped me on the way in and asked if I was Lolly and Frostine's mom.  I got that feeling in my gut.  You know the one that says "oh damn, what did they do?"  When I hesitantly said yes, she told me how much she enjoys my girls and how sweet it is that they look out for each other.  I wanted to hug her.  

As if that wasn't enough to brighten my mood... when I got home there was an e-mail in my in box saying there was space for me at BlogHer and did I want to attend!  Yes, yes, yes I want to attend.  I want to spend time meeting all these other fabulous women whose blogs I stalk and whose writing inspires me.  I want to meet other newbies like me.

So I'm going to drag my battered body to BlogHer in San Francisco and meet some new friends and talk about blogging.  And I'm excited.

Oh yeah, and these guys...  I love them.  They make me so proud.

100 Things

Here are 100 things you've been dying to know about me.  I love reading other people's 100 Things lists, so if you are so inclined leave me a link to your list in the comments.

1. If I could only eat one food for the rest of my life it would be a tie between popcorn and chips & salsa.

2. My parents met in the air force.

3. My mom out-ranked my dad and was eight years older than him.

4. My very first concert was Air Supply.

5. I'm not proud of that.  Or the fact that I have actually attended a Motley Crue concert.

6. I have the same birthday as Oprah Winfrey, January 29th

7. My husband and I got married twice on the same day.  First in a hotel ballroom in the eyes of Ganesh and then in a Lutheran Church in the eyes of God about two hours later.

8.  I wore a sari for the first wedding and my mother's wedding dress for the second.

9. I've owned four cars over my lifetime, all of which have been Hondas.

10. I can type wicked fast.  

11. When I was a kid I always won the summer reading contests.  I read everything I could get my hands on.

12. I am 37 years old and I still get carded.  Seriously. 

13. Sometimes I wish I didn't look so young because I am always mistaken for my children's nanny, or I feel like people don't take me seriously.  

14.  Before I got married I always said I wanted a boy first followed by twin girls.   We had twin girls followed by a boy.

15.  I can't go to sleep without reading a couple of pages of something, even if it's People magazine.

16.  All through Junior High School I only got one B (in P.E.).  All my other grades were As.  And I played the flute in the band.

17.  I decided to go a different route in High School, my grades fell a little bit and I quit the band.   Although there will always be a little bit of the flute playing super geek in me.

18.  I went to a small private college in Southern California.  It was some of the best four years of my life.

19.  I have had plastic surgery.

20.  It wasn't a nose job or breast implants.

21.  I love to cook, but not as much as I love to read cook books and watch the Food Network.

22.  My sister is the best friend I've ever had.  We talk on the phone at least once a day, usually twice.

23.  My mom was a lamaze instructor for over 20 years.  All five of her grandchildren were born via c-section.

24.  My ideal vacation would be in the mountains, in a cabin with a fireplace and a huge deck.  There would be a lake nearby with fantastic water skiing.

25.  I was a Business Administration major in college.  I struggled through all my business classes.  My best grades were in English and History.  I never skipped an English class.

26.  One of my proudest moments was when my professor read my essay on Madame Bovary in front of the class in English 101 saying it was "good writing."

27.  One of my biggest regrets in life is that I didn't major in Literature or History.

28.  Breakfast is my least favorite meal.   I am never hungry until at least 10am.

29.  I start every day with a cup of Indian black tea with a splash of half and half.

30.  My favorite thing about my husband is his sense of humor.  My least favorite is his snoring.

31.  When I find a blog I really like, I go back in the archives and read their very first post.

32.  I have what some would consider an unhealthy obsession with stationery and fonts.   I pick out my kids birthday party invites months in advance.

33.  I love the Olympics.  I always wanted to be an Olympic swimmer but I could never swim in a straight line.

34.  My kids have gorgeous, naturally highlighted hair.

35.  I am a terrible driver.  My minivan has about 10 dents and scratches. 

36.  Iced tea and Diet Pepsi were put on this earth especially for me.

37.  I love photography and looking at other people's photos.   I really wish I had better photography skills.

38.  I do not like roller coasters or sail boats.  I get terrible motion sickness.

39.  My favorite books are The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, The History of Love by Nicole Krauss and The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen.  (I was the only one in my book club that liked The Corrections).

40.  I love a good crossword puzzle, but I usually cheat if I get stuck.

41.  I get along really well with my in-laws, but it took a very long time to get to where we are now.

42.  I like going to the dentist.  There's nothing like that fresh from the dentist feeling.

43.  There is no sound more annoying than a leaf blower.

44.  I tend to make well thought out plans with the best of intentions, but I suck at the follow through.

45.  My kids are very loud.

46.  My kids are always hungry.  They ask me for something to eat at least every two hours.

47.  Right now somewhere in my house is a pile of laundry that needs to be folded or put away.

48.  I love falling asleep to the sound of rain.

49.  I love waking up to the sound of rain.

50.  I think I might be the only woman on the planet who doesn't find Patrick Dempsey attractive.

51.   I do however, enjoy Grey's Anatomy.

52.  I've watched all 16 seasons of Survivor.  If I wasn't married to such a hot stud, I would probably be stalking Jeff Probst.

53.  Mascara is the one make up item I cannot live without. 

54.  I don't really like shopping for or wearing make up.  I don't like how lipstick feels on my lips.

55.  Handbags and jewelry are a totally different story.  It should be illegal for me to own as many bags as I do.

56.  My husband has the sexiest hands ever.  

57.  I love to drink wine, especially while cooking.

58.  The only thing my husband ever splurges on is wine.  He hasn't bought himself new underwear since 1995, but if he finds a bottle of wine he likes, he'll buy a couple of cases.

59.  Sometimes I look at my kids and I'm blown away by how gorgeous they are.   Then I wonder if I just think that because I'm their mom.

60.  My son cracks me up.  I find it hard to stay mad at him because he's always making me laugh.

61.  I have a serious sweet tooth, but I can't stand hot chocolate.

62.  My husband couldn't care less about dessert.

63.  My father died from cancer when I was eight years old.  He was 37 and a heavy smoker.

64.  I have never smoked a cigarette.  It would break my heart in a thousand pieces if any of my kids took up smoking.

65.  I've run two marathons.  One in Hawaii and one in Alaska.

66.  I am a very slow runner, but I enjoy it.

67.  I probably won't ever run another marathon, but I would like to train for a 1/2 marathon.

68.  Sometimes I miss being pregnant.

69.  I don't miss the first few weeks postpartum.

70.  The first few months after giving birth to my twins were some of the most difficult of my entire life.

71.  I have a complicated relationship with my mother.  I have been working on a post about it since I started this blog.  It's titled "Unresolved."

72.  I am always printing out articles online like "Tone Your Arms -- in 10 Minutes!"  I do them a couple of times, then start making up excuses... like Big Brother 5 is on TV!

73.  I have three really close friends from high school that I still see on a regular basis.  I love them dearly.

74.  I don't tell my friends often enough how much they mean to me.

75.  There is nothing I hate more than being sunburned. 

76.  Me + heatwaves = total misery.

77.  My perfumes of choice is Happy by Clinique for daytime or Light Blue by Dolce and Gabbana for evening.

78.  I love almost every movie John Cusack has been in  (except Pushing Tin... wft was that?).

79.  I like to listen to podcasts of This American Life while I grocery shop or better yet, cruise through Target.

80.  At some point I'd like to spend a year living in Europe.

81.  Have I mentioned how much I love Diet Pepsi?  Sometimes I run out of milk before I run out of Diet Pepsi.  Sorry kids.

82.  Hairdressers tell me all the time that I have great hair.

83.  Whenever I leave the salon my hair looks amazing.  No matter how hard I try I cannot seem to recreate the look at home.   You'd think after 37 years of practice I'd be able to make my hair look decent.  Alas, no such luck.

84.  I can appreciate all types of music.

85.  I can enjoy a night at the symphony just as much as a Justin Timberlake concert or an eighties coverband playing at a dive bar.

86.  A tall glass of Diet Pepsi over ice with a slice of lemon makes me happy.

87.  My kids may eat more jelly beans than the average kid, but they will grow up with good manners.  No exceptions.  And I'm sorry, but they will never run around a park barefoot.

88.  I like to go into open houses in my neighborhood. 

89.  I think I might be the only person living in Northern California who doesn't like sushi.

90.  When my kids are older, I hope they look back and say they had a fun, carefree childhood.

91.   I also hope they learn the value of hard work and helping others.

92.  If there's one thing my mom taught me it's that all people matter and everyone has a story to tell.

93.  I have an iPhone.  It's the one gadget I can't live without.  I want to marry it.

94.  I don't believe in the death penalty, but if anyone every hurt one of my children I might change my mind.

95.  I'm not sure what freaks me out more, when my girls become teenagers or when my son becomes a teenager.

96.  I hate being late to appointments, losing thinks like my keys, or forgetting birthdays.

97.  Since I've had kids, I feel like I've been off my game.  I am late for appointments, I lose my keys and I forget birthdays.

98.  Chocolate and mint has got to be on of the best combinations of all time.

99.  I love shopping for kitchenware.  I am on a constant quest for the perfect salad bowl.

100.  I'm going to go pour myself a Diet Pepsi over ice.