Tag: Original Blog

What I’ve been hoping for the past year has finally happened. I sent my kids to the grandparents for a long weekend and the younger one came back potty trained. Success! Not mine, but who cares.

Potty training my son had taken over our lives. I’d stressed about it, read articles about it, and even blogged about it.

It wasn’t that my son wasn’t capable for these last several months. After a long day out he’d come home with a dry Pull-up, but he refused to wear underwear or keep his Pull-up dry at home. My husband and I have deduced that not going to the potty was his way of having control over something. We tell him when to eat, go to sleep, wake up, and his older brother tells him what to do the rest of the time.

The older one even tried to help in the potty training department, but mixed in with all of the “I’m so proud of you” declarations after the little one successfully used the toilet were a few “you have to poop on the potty. Now!”

“I’m not into pooping on the potty. I’m not into that.” He told us the other day in the car. He would not wear underwear because he wasn’t into that either.

But at Grandma’s house everything is different. The boys clean their plates, say please and thank you, and, apparently, use the toilet.

My mother-in-law told my husband not to tell me that she’d succeeded where I’d failed. She didn’t want me to feel bad. But really, I don’t mind!

Every day I wake up and check the California newspapers to find out what is going on with the state’s budget.

I’m just sick about the Governor’s proposal to help fix the budget crisis by shutting down most of the state parks. It’s bad enough that the cuts could end summer school, stop road projects, slash social services, but now it could take away one of the great joys of living in California .

That means no escaping from this smoggy, traffic-filled city and heading to the quiet and lovely Malibu Creek State Park for a walk. Or escaping the summer heat to camp near the beach at Leo Carillo State Park. No more hikes with the kids at Will Rogers. In the Bay Area, you won’t be able to take a day trip to Angel Island or climb Contra Costa’s Mount Diablo.

One of the best days of our lives as a family was in Malibu Creek. The weather was perfect, sunny, not hot, no wind and no flying bugs (little flying bugs are a-very-special day killer for my kids). The boys were thrilled to hike on the beautiful trail and they kept giggling because they were so happy to be out with mom and dad getting dirty and climbing rocks.

How sad will it be to go there and find the gates locked and the place a mess because there are no park rangers there to maintain it.

The state’s budget conference committee voted today to save the parks by imposing a $15 fee to all registered vehicles. Once you pay the fee you would be able to park in all state parks for free. As a California voter, I’m not thrilled about new taxes, but this sounds like a good idea.

The fee is part of a bigger tax hike and in order for it to pass it needs a two-thirds majority in both houses. That means some Republicans will need to vote for it.

In order for this to go through it needs public support. Sign this petition to save the parks!!
http://ga3.org/campaign/budget_spap09

We took the boys to see the Pixar movie “Up” last night. My kids liked it, but I absolutely loved it. It was perfect: sweet, exciting, and a little sad. It was about love and expectation and what you make of your life when you aren’t able to do the things you dream of doing.

Carl starts out as a shy little boy looking for adventure and finds it in Ellie, the love of his life. They meet as kids and eventually marry, dreaming of someday taking off in search of Paradise Falls in South America. But life gets in the way. The car needs a new tire, the house needs fixing and they end up getting to the end of the lives never having gone on that big trip. After Ellie dies Carl must go on without her and the smile is gone from his face.

When it looks like it’s all over for Carl, he takes off on the adventure he and Ellie dreamed of, and he does it for her. Along the way, he learns to love others and embrace the unexpected.

The boys are too young to understand those big picture problems of love and death and the responsibilities of adult life. But I hope what they take from the movie is that they should make the best of what life gives you and love the people who are good to you.

When Carl finds Ellie’s childhood scrapbook, he expects to see the pages she left empty, to fill after Paradise Falls. He’s touched to see that pages filled with pictures of the two of them together living their simple, happy life.

After a week of relaxing in beautiful Sedona I decided to spend the drive back catching up on email and reading the news. Little did I know that this exercise would result in my family hating me.

Letting my 4-year-old and his even younger brother watch Star Wars is not one of my prouder moments. I’ve written about how it was me who really wanted to watch it, and I went on to make lots of excuses about why they still do.

I didn’t feel good about it, but I let it go until my sister sent me a blog by another mom who had done the same thing. But the writer included a study that had evidence proving that when preschoolers watch violent programs they become juvenile delinquents, meth addicts, and serial killers. Okay, it didn’t really say all of that, but it did say that it can lead to violent behavior in the tween years.

Not only do my kids watch Star Wars, they play it on the Wii. My husband said the game isn’t just about killing the other characters, it’s about problem solving. I asked my 5-year-old what his favorite part of the game was and without hesitation said, “killing the badguys.”

That’s it. No more. No more watching Star Wars until they’re older and no more Star Wars Wii. “Why???” My 3 and 5-year-old wanted to know. It’s not violent, they said. It’s pretend. Well, it may be pretend, but it’s still disconcerting when my 3-year-old tells his brother he’s going to shoot him.

It’s not just that. I know boys play differently and can be more aggressive, but since we got back from vacation I’ve been watching how other kids play. The boys of our friends who don’t let their kids watch violent shows don’t talk about shooting and killing. They do still push and kick and occasionally punch, but it’s not taken to that next level.

This turn-around from happy house of Clone Wars and light sabers to one of PBS and Wii bowling is not one my kids are embracing. And they’re not liking me much either. I’m hoping after a few weeks they’ll just forget. Yeah, right.

A week ago we scored last minute tickets to see BRUCE! Springsteen. We enlisted friends to watch the kids and off we went, first to dinner and then the concert.

We were feeling good about ourselves after getting carded for the second time that night, and went to our seats with wine to share in a giant soda cup.

I struck up a conversation with the people behind us. The guy mentioned he’d seen Bruce the night before and it was fantastic. He was a loud talker, which says a lot since I’m a phone shouter who can’t hear very well. His continued talking as loud as he possibly could after the concert started so his date could hear him talking over “Badlands.” And then “Candy’s Room.” And then three more amazing songs.

Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was because he was really pissing me off, but I turned around and gave them a big ssshhhh!! They looked at me like my own kids do when they’ve been caught being bad – wide eyed and guilty – and said in unison “Sorry!”

I was so proud of myself that I said something and didn’t stew in rage while the guy tried to woo the unwooable, a girl 10 times hotter and 10 years younger.

A couple days later, I eagerly told my story at a party, thinking I was a champion to concertgoers everywhere. Two people said, “You did what?” Hmmm. Did I do something wrong? One person pointed out that I was the jackass for scolding people trying to have a good time at a concert. But they were yelling in my good ear!

I keep thinking about the look on their faces. Now that I have children, am I universal mom, the one young people say sorry to when they swear in public? The one people look guiltily at when they reek of pot?

I don’t want to be that lady.

My husband and I just got back from a fantastic couple of days in New York. My inlaws took care of the kids at home while we saw two Broadway shows and met up with friends.

If you’re ever in New York you must try S’mac , Sarita’s Macaroni and Cheese in the East Village http://www.smacnyc.com/home.html. It was life changing in a way that only bubbling cheese served in a skillet can be. S’Mac has a dozen different combinations including four cheese with Cheddar, Muenster, Gruyere, and Pecarino and Mediterranean with Goat Cheese, spinach, olives and roasted garlic. Or you can make your own with mix-ins like broccoli, fresh rosemary or bacon because what’s the only thing better than bubbling cheese? bacon.

But the very best thing about S’Mac is that you can get your pasta Gluten-Free. For the first time in 8-years my husband was able to go into a restaurant and have what he wanted and it was just like everything else on the menu and just as good.

We also hit another restaurant that is almost entirely Gluten-Free, Risoteria Restaurant on Bleeker Street. The Risotto was creamy and flavorful and delicious The breadsticks were good (a little salty) and the Gluten-Free pizza was the best my husband had ever had. And it wasn’t just the entrees and dessert that were Gluten-Free, they had a couple different Gluten-Free beers on the menu.

Gluten-Free beer is quite a treat to find in a restaurant in Los Angeles. Usually they just carry hard cider, which is not satisfying if you’re craving a beer. Rush Street in Culver City has a Gluten-Free beer, Greens Dubel, that is dark and complex. It’s 500 ml and $15, but worth it.

So last week I was all “baby, baby, baby,” and today I think I might be over that.

Some friends and I threw a baby shower for another friend and one of the guests brought her baby. When she came in I instantly offered to hold it. It was so cute and had this great baby/man face. Looking at it you could tell exactly what he was going to look like when he grows up. He was so sweet and adorable; then he started crying and fidgeting and I was suddenly terrified.

Babies scare me. I wasn’t scared of my own kids (okay, I was; eventually I got over it), but in general little babies scare the crap out of me. They’re so small and they make that high pitched noise when they need something. And they don’t just need something, they must have it NOW!!! And then you have to figure out what they need and it’s not always food, diaper or sleep.

It’s so nice that my kids are now at the point that they can tell me what they need. Even if it’s food (“I want some sugar!), laundry (“Wash my favorite pajamas right now so they’re clean when I go to sleep”), and entertainment (“Bolt is on sale. Buy it.”).

I don’t know what is going on with me, but I can’t stop thinking about having a baby. I keep asking people with three kids what it was like. It’s manageable right? They all said, yes! They’re family is complete now that they have three. And a few with two boys even had a girl. It can happen!

I mentioned this to my husband and he repeated what he said two-years-ago, the last time I was sick with baby fever; I’d be having that third child as a single mom. “So what will you do when you’re on bedrest for months and months(which happened when I was pregnant with both kids)? You think it was hard to lose the weight the last time, now you’re so much older (ouch!)” and my favorite “If you get pregnant, you won’t have a cute little girl to dress up like you’ve always dreamed of, you’ll have twin boys.”

But I don’t care if I’m on bedrest and my ass becomes so huge I have to sew two pair of pants together. I really want another baby. I also don’t mind if we have another boy. It will just make our house more lively.
I guess I should just let this surge of baby wanting pass like it always does. Or should I?

I was feeling like the worst environmentalist yesterday. I do drive a hybrid and recycle like crazy, but I’ve given up on composting. I was so in love with the composter when I got it from the city last summer. Now, it sits in our backyard a symbol of my failure, but I couldn’t do it anymore.

Why? Bugs. Little teeny, tiny ones that look like they could crawl in your hair without you even noticing them. I kept the compost waste under the sink, in what I thought was an airtight container, until I took it outside. It wasn’t airtight and once I saw those little bastards crawling around, I decided it wasn’t going to work. I disinfected the entire kitchen and stopped composting. (I could take waste out to the composter every time I have orange peels, egg shells, or use a paper towel, but that’s never going to happen.)

It’s been many, many months since I composted and don’t really think about it until my uberenvironmentalist friend comes over for play dates. The only paper product in her house is toilet paper; no paper towels, napkins or diapers. Her kids use cloth that she washes. I used cloth with a diaper service with my first son for a year and gave it up. We were talking about composting the last time she was over and I decided to try it again.

I explained my problem to the guy at the hardware store, who looked at me like I was crazy, and he gave me a big industrial bucket with an airtight lid. Perfect! Or not. It was such a good bucket I couldn’t get the lid off. It’s definitely airtight, but no use if I can’t get the lid on and off. Foiled again.

Which leads me to the dry cleaner. I went to the Go Green Expo in downtown LA last month and was so excited to buy an environmentally friendly dry cleaner bag from the Green Garmento, that’s says “Be Fantastic…Use Less Plastic.” It looks like a long, flat bag made out of cloth shopping bags and conveniently folds into a duffel bag to take the laundry to the cleaners. I personally don’t dry clean (or iron), but the husband needs shirts for work. Instead of getting 10 shirts wrapped in plastic, I’m hoping I’ll get 10 shirts hung up in the dry cleaner bag. That’s something, right. According to the Green Garmento press release “every year over 300,000,000 pounds of single-use plastic dry cleaning bags fill America’s landfills…”

I asked the dry cleaner if I should put my name on the bag and he said “No. I think I’ll remember. You’re the only one.” Hmmm. We’ll see what happens.

I was recently accosted by a well-intentioned man about the ingredients in my gluten-free baked goods. I use a vegan butter that contains, among other oils, palm. The man wanted to know where the palm oil came from and how I could sell my product when I didn’t know.

I read the paper every day and consider myself informed, but I had no idea what he was talking about. I forgot about it until Saturday when I went to the Go Green Expo at the Los Angeles Convention Center.

There, the Orangutan Crisis Coalition set me straight. The orangutans are reportedly threatened because their rainforest habitat is being converted into palm oil plantations. There are a few companies that boast being “orangutan-friendly” and Earth Balance, the maker of the vegan butter I use, is one of them.

According to the coalition, other orangutan-friendly companies include Newman’s Own Organics, Kellog’s, Colgate-Palmolive, and H.J. Heinz.