We are tickled pink (GAWD, I hate that saying) to announce our first guest blog post. Go WoMo. And no, this is not from a ravenous mommy blogger trying to drive traffic to her site. This is from a genuine, run ragged, conscience-stricken WoMo who discovered our book and wanted to share her story. No strings attached. No ulterior motives. Read on... her post is one we all can relate to: funny, keen and bittersweet. Thank you WoMonymous. We think you're awesome.
We call Ava our Chatty Cathy. She was an early talker, and boy, is she a talker. Grandma was especially pleased. It was something new for her to brag about. I hadn’t realized she was running out of stories to tell at her post-Pilates brunches with the grandma crowd.
As Ava’s vocabulary expanded (and for the record, no, Ava doesn’t know “expanded” yet) Grandma would call, digging for vocab dirt.
“Don’t have long to talk, sweetie, I’m out the door to (over-priced spa passing itself off as a legitimate gym). How is my Angel … said anything new lately?” Of course, Chatty more...
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Tags:Guilt: The Bad G-spot, Juggling & Struggling
“Mommy Meanest: The Dark Side of Mommy Blogging.” That was the spicy title of a segment I happened to catch on the Today Show last week that interviewed bloggers who had been flamed with stinging criticism and nasty comments online. Knowing one of my good friends is the constant recipient of such vitriol from those who read who SF Gate “Mommy Files” blog, I could definitely relate to the topic. Over the years, my sweet as sugar girlfriend has been attacked for everything and anything she has shared online, from her neighborhood (“snobby!”) to her writing style and even her haircut and her daughter’s first name! At times I have even jumped into the stew of horrid postings to throw a dissenting voice into the mix defending her honor … only to be targeted myself by later commenters. Amazingly, some of the commenters are not even mothers – or even women. What in the hell are men doing reading (and posting to) a mommy blog in the first place?
Well, this week I got to experience the Dark more...
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Tags:In the News, Just For Laughs
April 14th, 2010, posted by Aimee, Tags: SAHM Sisters
On my left ring finger is a gleaming 4-carat rock. Gorgeous, flawless, sparkling and set in a fantastic setting of pave stones circling a thin band. The only problem with this stunner of a ring? It’s as fake as Heidi Montag’s nose/breasts/lips or ________(fill in the blank). Not that any of the SAHMs at Tav’s preschool who arrive in Hummers would ever guess.
Why am I sporting a cubic zirconia purchased at a mall store called “Brilliant Illusions” last week? Chalk it up to the same insane affluent suburb insecurity from which I suffered as a teenager here in what we not so affectionately call “the ‘Ville,” aka, wealthy bedroom community of San Francisco where Marcie and I both grew up. For some reason, being back here – feeling like an alien being as what seems to be the only WoMo (at least, the only WoMo without a live-in au pair) within a 25 mile radius - brings out the most shallow and pathetic aspects of my personality.
To explain: We are temporarily residing in my mom’s house (yes, more...
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Tags:SAHM Sisters
My quest for Stay-At-Home-Friday eluded me for several years — mostly due to my own inability to say “no” to people. But I’ve been making a concerted effort to make it happen since the three-year-old was born. Thanks to a great team at IE, it’s been (mostly) happening. Sweet, exhausting, tedious, physical, overloaded… at times, baffling. A recount:
142 emails (only half requiring response…only?)
110 decibel level of screaming over disgusting pimple ball that nobody has paid attention to in months
74 squats picking up Lego shrapnel, dust bunnies and other gross stuff
45 minutes of a 90-minute pilates class (better than nothing, had to get to the office for a conference call)
32 Cheerios loose in my car from migratory breakfast high jinx
28 attempted hugs and kisses
18 minutes of “we never see you” schmomzing at pick-ups and drop-offs
16 times in-and-out of my car
14 times getting the three-year-old in-and-out of my car
12 work related phone calls
10 fingernails chewed to the quick
8 o’clock beer with the hubby (one, isn't it Friday night?)... now more...
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Tags:Juggling & Struggling, School Daze, WoMoLists
Ever since adolescence – maybe even childhood – I’ve suffered the Sunday blues. First it was a dread of school (and the bullying kids in the class who called me “four eyes” and “teacher’s pet”), and later in my 20s it was often just a depressing realization that the weekend’s promise of parties, new boys and new friends was coming to a close without much change in my often single relationship status. And now Sundays hit me with a double whammy of melancholy: Not only does Monday mean hurling back into the crazy chaos of 10-hour-day agency life, but also leaving my son for all but 90 minutes of his waking life each day.
It’s true I champion the positive side of being a working mom – at least the things I think we should try to laugh about – about 99% of the time on this blog. But sometimes, it’s hard to put the smiley face on … especially on a Sunday, when I know that in less than 12 hours I will be dressing in the dark and more...
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Tags:Guilt: The Bad G-spot
April 6th, 2010, posted by Marcie
"I already gave you ten minutes. Now. No, not five minutes. Now. No, not two. Puleease, NOuuuuuW!
Yes, you can have THAT if you eat THIS. I don't care what color it is...
It's your brother's. Give it to him please. He was playing with it. Yes, I know you want it... Two minutes."
Bedtime, bath time, eating meals, sharing, picking up toys… damn, I even have to negotiate for hugs and kisses these days. Did you realize when you became a mom that it required a degree in mediation? Then, if you’re a WoMo, you have to account for all the diplomatic techniques that occur at a typical office: sales, contracts, estimates, scheduling, office politics. You’d think with all this negotiating I’d be pretty good at it, right? Nope. It’s kinda like Keanu Reeves and acting… a lot of practice but still piss poor.
I’ve been pondering this lately. I think most moms screw up negotiating because we’re wired to nurture (that, and we’re completely exhausted). If given the choice between strong-armed talks or a meaningful hug, I prefer the more...
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1 - “Slow food.” Ahhh, right. Love the concept, but when we hit the farmers’ market, it’s mostly to stock up on prewashed lettuce, stuff ourselves with sample strawberries and clap to the aging folk musician playing for the kiddies.
2 - Cloth diapers. I get it, poopy Pampers = landfill. But who has the time or the stomach for cloth, even with a handy door-to-door deliveryman?
3 - Making your own baby food. See item one. Most of us WoMos bought either “Superfood” or that lame Jessica Seinfeld book talking about how easy it is to boil and puree sweet potatoes and beets and freeze in little ice cube trays. And most of us tossed in the towel after one messy afternoon, deciding Jessica definitely had her household chef whipping up that glop.
4 - Twitter. There are millions of SAHMs on there constantly and quite a few momprenuers... But moms who go to an office don't have time (or desire) to report their every sneeze throughout the day.
5 - NetFlix. Great in theory, but the movies collect more...
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Tags:Juggling & Struggling, WoMoLists
