DC Metro Moms

Why I'm Cool With The Disney Princesses

With a precocious preschool daughter that came out of the womb attracted to anything pink, conventionally pretty and wearing a tiara, the Disney Princesses are a huge deal.  Move over Brad and Angelina, Prince Phillip and Briar Rose are the A-list celebrity couple at our house.

I know a lot has already been said in the mamablogosphere about little girls and their obsession with this franchise, but that's because the products. Are. Everywhere. From Kmart to Saks, those ruby red lips that shame the red red rose are smiling from the shelves.  It just might be impossible to get out of raising a little girl in North America without these chicks in your house.  And even though I do not dot my i's with hearts nor have a line of stuffed animals marching along my car's back window, I have a confession to make: 

I love myself a sweet, soprano-voiced, animal-befriending Disney Princess.

Preschoolers Don't Learn By Bad Example

I've made many a screw up as a mother.  Unfortunately, most of these mistakes have occurred with my first child.  To paraphrase the great Erma Bombeck, my first child got me new but he also got the blisters.  Maybe that's the trade off for always getting the new toys first and rarely having to wear hand-me-downs: first kids bear the brunt of their novice parents' foibles. 

Though not a child development expert, my mommy newness has compelled me to become a regular of the parenting sections of the public library and local bookstores.  T. Berry Brazleton and me?  Thick as thieves.  So how did I miss it that children under the age of six don't usually learn by bad example?  And why are children's book authors and educational television programs missing this as well?

What I learned from the Sex and the City movie

I'm going to bet that anyone that was interested in seeing the Sex and the City movie in the theater has already seen it, but if you haven't seen and want to go in without any hints to the story, stop reading now.  If you're groaning and rolling your eyes, go read your Atlantic Monthly or Salon or find and activity to share with your kids.  Seriously. K-Bye!

OK, now that the pseudo-intellectual buzzkills are gone, here's what I learned from the Sex and the City movie:

A serious break up takes some serious mourning
Sarah Jessica Parker's vulnerability and portrayal of a woman in the middle of a major break up were really amazing.  When she shows her red, makeup-less eyes and tells her friends in a voice that breaks, "He was just a bad guy," I found myself transported back to my own and my friends' tough, shake-you-to-your core breakups. SATC shows the anatomy of a breakup, and proves that the female experience is not all shopping and shtupping.

Go For It: Start a Blog

It's not too late.

You didn't miss the boat.

You can start a blog and you can start it today.

Sure, there are veterans out there that have been pouring their words and wit onto the Internet via weblog for over a decade, but thousands of brand-spanking new blogging voices sign on and start posting every day. Your voice is unique and no one exactly like you has shared his or her words before. You have something original to say and if you are bursting at the seams to say it, if you'€™re dreaming of your URL and writing posts in your head, nothing should stop you from making it a reality. What are you waiting for?

I started reading personal blogs in 2003, while expecting my first child. I'd be on a yawn of a conference call at work and, preoccupied with the life inside me, type something like "23 weeks pregnant" into the Google search box. Paging down through the predictable baby sites, I'd happen upon a new website with a preview text that looked interesting. I'd click and be transported into the autobiographical yearnings, humor and perspective of a completely unknown woman, joined with me in the sisterhood of pregnancy. I'd read her recent posts, delve into her archives and only come up for air when a client or supervisor started shouting for my attention through the speakerphone. I was hooked.

Sexy in the Bathroom

This past year, the sexiest, most mojo-inducing, groove-back-bringing thing I have done is claim the underused guest bathroom for my very own.  This land is mine.  No Old Spice, no Dora and Diego bath toys. No ear thermometers,  Blues Clues BandAids, Baby Motrin, A+D ointment, Goody barrettes, Gillettethebestamancanget.  The guest bathroom is an oasis of tranquility and pampering and it is mine, all mine.

ZZZZZZ. Snore. Prudy McPruddish you say? "Come on, this is SEX topic day!" Well, let me explain how claiming one's own feminine space is completely sexy.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all women out there. And extra special love and prayers to all those hoping to be mothers now or again, and those that are missing their moms. This is a beautiful day, but also a tough one for so many. Whether you are filled with joy, sadness, fatigue or exasperation today, I wish you peace.

My own mom is the world's kindest person. This is a fact that is disputed by no individual that has ever met her. She cares for and selflessly puts her daughters, father, grandchildren, brothers, co-workers and the students of her fourth grade class all ahead of herself. Her consideration of others is legendary, and one of my life's goals is to be half as giving and loving as Sharon Lee House Slovak.

Facebook Friending Free-For-All

Sometimes I believe Facebook should be renamed "I-think-I-know-your-face-book." Now that so many of us over age 30 (those of us who remember traditional college facebooks, which were primarily used for scoping out dates) have gotten over our fears that this social networking tool is too juvenile, the Facebook friending is getting pretty wild.  Individuals that I never would have dreamed remembered me have added me as a friend.  These requests have emboldened me to add other people I vaguely remember, barely know or know only from online forums, as friends.  And you know?  No one is turning the other down. 

Joel Garreau of The Washington Post wrote an article on this phenomenon of individuals possessing hundreds or even thousands of Facebook friends, calling it "the next era of friendship" or "Friend Next."  Students will add their entire graduating class. employees all co-workers in their company.  With one silent click it is possible to be connected directly with the person you might be too uncomfortable to approach at the company picnic or high school reunion.  And this little online shoulder-tap is now completely socially acceptable.

Springtime in DC: Nature's Answer to Zoloft

I had just about had it with this stinking wet, wussy Washington weather.  This winter's extreme cold and never-ending sleet drove me to buy a puffy down coat about as flattering as one of those inflatable Sumo wrestling suits; my popsicle toes forced me to break down and join the hideous cult of the Uggs.  I'm a Southern California desert chick that never owned a coat until I was 18 and has separate sections of my closet for casual, dressy and beach/pool-only flipflops.  Every January - March the seasonal depression and gloom of the area just slays me.  After the Christmas decorations are stowed away, the cold, grey and freezing winds make the yearnings for my old California towns creep into my heart. 

But I exited the plane at BWI this week after a long visit back to SoCal, and I stepped into an idyllic Washington spring.  All the trees had bloomed, there were fields of daffodils everywhere and I remembered why I have loved living here these last 10 years.   It's like the DC weather finally realizes you know?  Enough's enough, I'm going to the doc and getting myself some damn SSRIs.  And in the blink of an eye, us Washingtonians, Marylanders and Virginians are suddenly booking trips to the beach, buying lawn tickets to shows at Wolftrap, drinking capirihnas on a roof in a tank top...or at least serving our kids their juice boxes in the back yard.    

 

Spring Fitness & Fashion: Tone It, Tan It, Own It, Fake It

I have come to the realization that although I may succeed in dropping a few pounds before swimsuit season, I may reign in my postpartum muffin top into a bagel bite, I am not going to magically emerge from my mommy flesh cocoon on Memorial Day weekend as the Giselle of the 'burbs.  Sad, but true.  What I can do is work with what I got, and if busyness and laziness prevail, I can always fake it.  Here's my action plan.

Tone It: This spring and summer I am going to be happy with my body and simply work to make it stronger.  I am not going to have some unrealistic notion of a complete trade-in at the dealer, I'm going for detailing.  I'm going to schedule workouts and classes, place the Pilates DVDs right smack next to the player, push the double stroller to the park, play tag with my babies and try not to think too much about how things used to look back there when I feel my booty bouncing around behind my knees. 

Take the Words Out of My Mouth

The mommy guilt that I possess stems from the everyday exasperation I feel as a stay-at-home mom to two very spirited, energetic and amazing preschool-aged children. Surprisingly, it's not the staying home and abandonment of my professional career that brings the guilt; this set up is working for my family, for my children and the longer I perform this housewife/mommy combo gig, the more comfortable I feel with the decision.

What brings the guilt that causes me to shiver with horror at 2am are the words that come out of my, and sometimes my children's, mouths throughout the course of a normal day. As Devra Renner and Aviva Pflock, authors of Mommy Guilt: Learn to Worry Less, Focus on What Matters Most and Raise Happier Kids and Parentopia, wrote in the wonderful interview on DC Metro Moms,