Blogroll Schmogroll
You may have noticed that I don’t have a Blogroll. (What?! You haven’t read every page of this blog? Oh, okay. Neither have I.)
The thing is, I put off creating a blogroll because I know it will become a maintenance nightmare. Twenty years from now I’ll still have the original list, sitting there on its lonely page, unread. Yes, I plan to blog forever, baby.
Instead of creating another maintenance item for myself – and another never-gonna-read blog page for you – I decided that one Wednesday each month I will replace Wonder Why Wednesday with… Blogroll Schmogroll, a short list of blogs I think you should visit. Each month I’ll highlight two or three people who make me laugh, think and, on occasion, cry.
You can then add my favorites to your reader, subscribe to their email newsletter and follow them on Twitter. You, too, will have the opportunity to smack your head daily, thinking I need more time to read these blogs. They’re all so good. Damn Missy for getting me hooked on more blogs. Or something like that.
Look for Blogroll Schmogroll on the last Wednesday of every month, starting… today!
But before we begin, some minor housekeeping… I know, I know, always killing the fun by bringing up housekeeping.
These monthly lists are, in no way, comprehensive or conclusive, meaning:
When I say Here are blogs that make me laugh, I do not mean that these are the only blogs that make me laugh. If I say This blog is always smart and thoughtful, that does not mean that there aren’t many more smart, thoughtful blogs out there.
If you know for a fact that I read your blog all the time, but you haven’t been featured on Blogroll Schmogroll yet, please don’t be offended. Your day is coming, I promise. My Google Reader and my in box are full – FULL, I tell you – of blogs I read daily (or as frequently as possible), and I’m not going through the list alphabetically or anything. Blogroll Schmogroll will be a bit more random. Have patience. You know I love you.
So let’s begin.
As of this writing I am wrapping up one of those days. The kids were maniacs, and it so happens that I also had almost no Mama Patience today. I was blessed with a teeny, tiny portion of Mama Patience to begin with. If my tolerance levels drop at all this household immediately hits an orange, teetering on red, threat level.
Then, when dumping pasta into a colander, boiling water splashed over the side of the sink. The tidal of wave of super-hot liquid landed on me. I feel like a tool and I now have a second degree (maybe 1.5 degree?) burn near my belly button. To add insult to injury, I broke a fingernail while stain treating P’s three-billionth stained shirt of the day. I know, this is tragic stuff.
I feel the need for a laugh.
And when I want to laugh, these are three of my go-to ladies:
:: Alabaster Cow – Ericka is smart, funny, and her breasts nearly exploded in her face earlier this week. She’s irreverent in all the right ways.
:: Good Day, Regular People – The Empress is writing a series called When Someone You Love Has a Blog. It’s a must read.
:: Kelley’s Break Room – Kelley hosts a little game called Captcha Balderdash, where readers make up definitions to the captcha words used for authenticating comments and such. Go play!
read moreWonder Why Wednesday: Crashing Down Edition
Picture it: The gym. 2010. A young-ish woman is in Pilates class.
(If you caught the Golden Girls reference, then you watch too much TV. Also, we could be good friends.)
So. Monday night I was in my Pilates class when one of those summer storms popped up, quite literally out of the blue sky. I walked into the gym at 5:50 p.m., under blue skies dotted here and there with clouds that looked like they could make rain only if they got very organized. As it was, the clouds all looked like high school seniors during the last week of school. They were doodling on their notebooks, daydreaming about being bigger, cooler, college clouds.
Approximately 30 minutes later, as I was prostrate with my feet inside spring loaded loops, focused on zipping up the bottom ribs (huh?), we heard a noise like something being ripped off the roof above us. Less than a minute later, we heard rain. But not the pitter-patter of drops on the roof. More like the sound of running water somewhere very near our heads. My two classmates and I leapt off of our reformers mere seconds before the acoustic ceiling tiles came crashing down, just inches from where our heads were once located.
That noise like something being ripped off the roof? It was the roof being ripped off the building. Apparently the wind caught part of the roof and just rolled it back, like the gym was a can of sardines. There was significant water damage to one corner of the building. In fact, the entire facility was closed today; the Pilates and yoga studios are closed indefinitely.
Of course I said a prayer of thanks that my head was not still on the reformer when the ceiling gave out. And I marveled at the power of nature. But my first thought was, Oh, man. This is just going to add fuel to my mother’s anti-exercise fire.
See, my mom is in nice shape. She looks great and she takes good care of herself. She walks for exercise, but she will not go to the gym. My mother jokes (but she’s not kidding) that exercise is dangerous. And it so happens that my life has been one long proof to her theorem. I continually have some kind of sore joint, strained muscle, over-or-under-active tendon. My fitness history is a series of athletic pursuits, broken up by injuries and rehab. It’s what I do.
And now the gym nearly lands on my head. My mom is so vindicated.
Since it’s Wonder Why Wednesday, after all, I have some questions for you.
My light question for today:
Why can’t I be that fitness buff who rarely experiences setbacks and injuries? Why does the ceiling come crashing down every time I start to hit my stride?
My only slightly deeper question:
Why am I writing so many health/fitness posts lately? We’ll move on to other topics, I promise.
If you feel the need for some depth:
This story has the potential to take us down numerous paths. We could talk fitness (check), nature, spirituality… So I wonder, why can two people can look at the same event or circumstances and walk away with two vastly different views? Obviously our life experiences inform how we see things, as do our religious and political beliefs. I guess what I wonder – what I’d like to discuss – is do we ever choose a different view of something simply because a particular perspective suits us? Do we see things how we want to in order to further our own agenda? I know what I think about this. And I know what I want to believe. What do you think?
Wonder Why Wednesday: I’m Hungry Edition
Remember how last week I had nothing for Wonder Why Wednesday? This week I’m full of ‘em. Questions, that is. It was hard to decide what to write about. So I wrote down all my ideas on little strips of paper and drew one out of a hat.
No I didn’t.
Don’t be ridiculous.
I picked one, right out of my head. I should, however, write down the others somewhere or I’ll forget them. You know I will.
So. This week, I want to talk about eating. One of my favorite subjects. A few days ago I mentioned that I’m working on some things in my life. Some of the things are what you might call deep and introspective. Some others are easier to think about and easier to talk about. We’re starting with easy. Don’t judge me.
Food. Eating. Nutrition. These are all passions of mine. I’m not so much into the cooking of food, though. I enjoy cooking, sometimes, but it’s not a passion. I’m more interested in the talking about and the eating of food. I happen to have a lot of knowledge about healthy eating (when I don’t know something, I have access to a great nutritionist, who will probably appear here soon; she’s been helping me with the makings of a post).
My issue, you see, is not what I know. It’s what I do. A classic, right? Do as I say, not as I do.
As a rule of thumb we buy organic. The following items do not land in my shopping cart: partially hydrogenated anything, food dyes, GMO’s. Where staples are concerned, we eat healthfully around here. I shop the perimeter of the store way more than the aisles. We eat lots of whole foods at our house. I try not to overcook things and deplete them of nutritional value (I’m no raw-diet-vegan-Gwyneth-Paltrow or anything, don’t get any crazy ideas).
I’m not saying we never have a processed snack or junk food. I’m all about moderation. I’m totally against deprivation. I try to focus on controlling what I can, but not freaking out about every little bite that goes in my kids’ mouths. Or mine.
So here’s my problem:
I make good choices for meals, and good choices about what I put in my shopping cart. Mostly, anyway.
Somehow, though, I manage to find ways to indulge way too often. When presented with an opportunity to eat badly, I will. Every time. Junk food, comfort food… I cannot quit you.
I have NO WILL POWER. Sorry for screaming at you there. It’s just that I find this so frustrating.
I know what I need to do. I know what I want to do. But I keep failing. That leads me to my Wonder Why Wednesday question:
Do you ever sabotage yourself? Do you have any tips for curbing cravings without going overboard?
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Once again, I leave you with some housekeeping. I won’t include this in every post for the rest of our lives, but I’ll probably include it a few more times:
1. You can now subscribe to Wonder, Friend by email! This makes me inexplicably excited. If you’re anything like me, you sometimes forget to check your reader. You may have favorite blogs (ahem) that you love reading, but you get busy and forget to check for new posts. So go ahead, subscribe. Over there, on the right, near the top. The Feedburner thingy. Thank you!
2. If you do read Wonder, Friend on a regular basis, you have my heart. Really. When I started this I said I would write even if nobody was reading, and I meant that. I mean that still. I write this for me, but lately it’s occurred to me that I also write this for you. Thank you for reading! If you leave a comment, you’re on my list of suitable mates should my husband ever meet an untimely demise. I sincerely appreciate your comments. Here’s the housekeeping part - I am now responding to comments within the comment thread, not via email. It just makes things more consistent. I’m working on setting up a comment platform that will send you an email when I respond to your comment. If you have recommendations for a good comment platform, send them my way.
read moreWonder Why Wednesday: Husband and Poop Edition
I’m feeling a kinship with Alex over at Late Enough this week, because it’s been all about butts here, too. Both of my boys have had the trots. The runs. With my oldest, who amazingly has never had a true stomach virus before, it went like this:
Kid: Mom, what is this?
Me: It’s diarrhea, honey. You’re a little sick.
Kid: It feels weird. It didn’t go kuplink, kuplunk.
Me: Uh, huh. Right. It does make different sounds than regular poop.
Kid: I don’t think I like having the diarrhea.
Me: That’s a common reaction, babe. You’re not alone in your feelings here.
He now refers to his illness as “The Diarrhea.” As in, I had The Diarrhea, but now my brother has The Diarrhea.
Can we stop talking about it already? Mom is OVER it. And that brother of his? He has a diaper rash that makes my bottom hurt. The fun never stops.
In less disgusting news, we’re eagerly awaiting the birth of a new cousin & niece. Any second now, as in she’s due today. Come on, baby. I can’t wait to have another niece. I adore being the mother of boys. I feel like I was born to be a Boy Mom, but… there’s a lot of talk of butts when you live in a house full of boys. (Like how I brought this right back around to bottom talk?) I love having nieces. We talk about dolls and jewelry. Things are pink. Very fun.
Between the bottom maintenance going on over here and the excitement/anxiety over the baby’s arrival, I’m kind of drawing a blank on Wonder Why Wednesday. I wonder about stuff, sure. Why won’t the baby just get here already? Why can’t my 14-month-old tell me when he’s walking around with a diaper full of ick. (Oddly, there’s been very little odor. Too much information? Sorry. Here ends the poop talk. Maybe.)
I can’t focus enough to come up with an actual WWW post. So I asked my husband if he had anything on his mind.
Husband: I wonder who gets to come up with the names for coffee flavors?
Me: Honey, it’s Wonder WHY Wednesday, not Wonder WHO Wednesday.
Husband: Oh, well, I’m wondering who to call to find out when my iPhone will ship…
Me: Uh, didn’t we just discuss why vs. who?
Husband: Sorry. I think I just have more WHO questions than WHY questions. How about WHY hasn’t my new phone shipped?
Me: Riveting, babe. A post in the making.
Husband: I wonder why you’re being so mean to me.
Wonder Why Wednesday: Hell, Breaking Loose
It’s possible that Wonder Why Wednesday is not long for this world. I’m considering giving it the boot so I can focus on some other things. Of course, WWW does not take up that much time or brain space, so it might stick around.
Since it’s Wednesday and I’ve made no decision on this super important topic, let’s go ahead and play. If you’ve forgotten the point of WWW (hint: there really isn’t one) or you are new here, read this.
Not long ago a friend of mine was at the gym, a feat made all the more commendable by the fact that she has two kids, ages two and six months. She also has a husband, a job and a home to manage. Anyone who has kids knows what an effort it is to get to the gym. Somebody’s always sick or napping or having a tantrum or something… just something. Add kids to everyday life and you get a recipe for missed workouts.
So she’s working with a trainer, putting in the effort, and she falls. The result? A broken tailbone and two broken bones in her hand. Let’s add some insult: her husband had to travel for work that week, leaving her one-handed, sore bottomed, working full time and taking care of two very little kids.
Around the same time one of my neighbors, a super-fit triathlete, who had in fact completed a triathlon the day before, had an accident while securing her toddler. As the little guy attempted a mad dash into the street, his mom quickly reached, scooped and turned, only to feel her back give out. She was immobilized.
You guessed it, her husband was out of town, too.
My takeaway from all this? Exercise and fitness are a dangerous business, to be avoided if you are responsible for the care of small children. (Says the woman who can barely walk today due to exercise. Stupid exercise.)
My friends, however, had a slightly different takeaway, and they suggested I pose this question to you:
Why is that all hell breaks loose every time one parent leaves town?
read moreI’ll be here on April 29, 2012
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