DOODLING FOR THE GOOGLEDOM

Okay, posting all out of order this week, but I will get everything up by Wednesday, dammit!

Kids submitted their very first attempt at the Doodle for Google contest.  You know how Google changes their logo for every holiday and special occasion?  Well, they also have this annual  contest in which school-age kids compete in a handful of categories for scholarships.  

This year's theme was WHAT I WISH FOR THE WORLD.

After a number of attempts to get them to just try to think of something other than, "I wish the world was a giant ball of jello," or "I wish the whole world was made of whipped cream," I finally got them to draw something that fit within the parameters of the contest rules.  Well, sorta.  At least we could submit it.

See if you can guess which one is Saia's and which one is Chago's.

	"I wish everyone could come to a birthday party for the world because then at least there would be one day without war."
	"If all the animals and all the people could just live together in peace, it would be a much better world.  So, when your mother tells you to 'STOP ACTING LIKE AN ANIMAL!' you can say, 'But mom, I'm just saving the planet.'"

DIVERSITY BY WHO'S DEFINITION?

"Do you care about diversity?" asked a Momversation post recently.  

Momversation.com is kind of a cool (but overly commercialized) site that allows panelists (popular mom bloggers) to chime in on a variety of topics via vlogs.

And as I read the responses, because of course I, too, care about diversity, I realized that there was something missing.

My response to the post follows:

So, I know that diversity in this particular post is more specifically geared toward racial diversity, but when I searched for "gay" or "lesbian" on the momversation site, this was the only real post to which I was directed, which, I have to say is a little disconcerting as a lesbian mother of two 5-year-olds who also happens to be Latina.

And I guess I'm wondering why that is -- why lesbian moms don't appear to have much of a presence on mainstream sites and blogs. Not that we're being EXcluded by anyone, but I guess I'm wondering if there's a general feeling out there from lesbian moms that they would not be as accepted, that their opinions would not be considered as valid, that their contributions to raising our next generation of children would not be as appreciated, let alone welcomed by the straight parenting community?

And so they relegate themselves to gay blogs and communities, creating a sort of plastic bubble around their lives and the experiences of their children, insulated from threats of discrimination and bigotry, that I wonder how could that actually not be more detrimental to a child once they hit public school age and begin to realize for themselves that they are actually in a minority?

And I could just be making sweeping generalizations here, and I apologize in advance if I've offended anyone by doing so, but I think that that's actually intrinsic to this problem. There is just no real lesbian mother voice to speak of -- or listen to -- or learn from -- or share with. Although another commenter began to touch on sexuality as a piece of the diversity conversation, but it never went any further, and I do think it warrants more than that. Is actually crucial to include in conversations about parenting and motherhood and what it means to be a woman.

And not just from the perspective of being gay and raising children in a world that doesn't fully accept us. But also from the perspective of straight parents who's children may be exhibiting "signs" or who may even have children strong enough, brave enough, or raised in an environment open enough to allow them to come out to them.

I love the momversations on this site. I'm a new convert, for sure, but an old blogger. And except for the fact that my partner is also a woman, I can relate to, have experienced personally, or would like more information about almost every single topic discussed on this site to date. And have been blogging about them for years.

We are more alike than we are different. But our differences, like the differences between races, can enrich our culture and broaden our horizons in ways I think we haven't even begun to contemplate because the discussion, just begging to be had, just hasn't...yet.

And, so, I guess what I wanna know is...am I wrong???

WELL-WORLD WEDNESDAY

Okay, so this is only my second WWW post, but that now makes it officially a series, doesn't it?

Well, doesn't it?!?!?

So, in keeping with the last one, I went in search of 3 lesser-known things that you can do to conserve energy / save the planet with little to no out of pocket expense.

Here's what I was able to find this week:

• turn off the burners / oven before you've finished cooking (obviously, if it's chicken/pork/fish, you'll want to ensure it's done, just not overdone)
• move a few days worth of frozen food to the fridge (to lessen the times you go into the freezer, sure, but also to help cool the fridge)
• if you use your dishwasher, turn off the heat-drying and only use it during off-peak hours

For last week's WWW tips, click HERE.

EPISODE 2 - ORAL REPORTS

In which the monsters discuss their kindergarten oral presentations on lions and lambs.

WHO'S BOOBS? YOUR BOOBS!!!

Have been refusing to post all day today because if I do then I'll have to update my Twitter which will auto-update my Facebook and I don't wanna because I'm still just shell-shocked by the bosom buddies post today at herbadmother, and am dutifully trying to call as much attention to it as my little place in this world will allow.

I was, and still am, completely floored by the reaction she received upon posting that she had breastfed another mother's baby, whom she barely knew but felt she could trust, because she was in excrutiating pain from overengorgement (having left her breastpump at home, traveled to conference without her own baby, and unable to find suitable alternative pump around).  

Well, that's sorta the gist of it, anyway.  But I couldn't possibly do it justice, so please go read it for yourselves at They Shoot Wet Nurses, Don't They?

But for my part, I'm overflowing with questions.  Because the first half of the issue, the would-I-have-nourished-another-child part, doesn't seem all that difficult to answer.  Maybe it would be weird.  Maybe it would have to be a dire situation for the child.  Maybe it would feel totally natural as something we should've always been doing in our society.

But the second part, the would-I-have-volunteered-my-child-to-help-another-mother-in-distress is the part that's causing the big hoopla over there.  And I can't say with all conviction that I don't understand why.  And that surprised me.

I feel ashamed, I think, that I probably would not have allowed another woman that I did not really know (and truly, how can you ever really know anyone) breastfeed my child.  Nor would I allow them to give my child milk from a bottle they pulled from their own diaper bag.  So, I don't think this is a breast issue.  I think, for me, it's a general social mistrust issue that has evolved over decades and feeds on paranoia fanned by the media -- that you just never know anymore who you can trust, and so you trust no one.

And I really am embarrassed to admit that I recognize that limitation in myself.  What kind of woman, mother, human being would I be to just sit there and watch another woman in agony and not help?  How amazing was it that this woman, a virtual stranger, didn't really even think twice about helping another woman, mother, human being in need?  That it was almost knee-jerk.  That someone needed help, and she had the solution.

And I think that it's this feeling, this shame and embarrassment of not being able to say that I, too, would have been that compassionate, that I, too, am selfless enough to give of my flesh, that I, too, would help another without preconditions or disclaimers -- it's this feeling that's making so many other women, mothers, human beings lash out at the one who did.  Insinuating that these women were irresponsible, irrational, uncaring mothers maybe somehow makes them feel better about not being able to be that selfless themselves.

And I know that the breastfeeding issue itself is such a powerfully divisive issue already in this country.  Top that off now with popping your boobie in your friend's baby's mouth and, of course, you've got fireworks.  But what's so awful about this whole deal is that these women -- all of them -- the one who loaned out her child, the one who breastfed, and the one who blasted them on her blog -- were all at a conference for women bloggers.  And that's just sad.  In a place where women should be empowering other women, what resulted was essentially a cyber catfight.  

And, ultimately, the original blogger took her post down.  But what we don't know is why.  She didn't post her reasons, which only left the blogging community to assume she was "bullied" into doing so.  But assumptions is what got us into this predicament in the first place.  I would much rather her have stood by her post and defended it -- because when it comes down to it, she's entitled to whatever opinion she wants to have and share.  And the debate the issue has sparked, I think, is a great moment of self-reflection for women, mothers, bloggers everywhere.  But don't start self-censoring.  And don't cower.  Post an addendum if you must, but stand by what you said or don't post it in the first place.

Anyway...long story short, in my opinion, herbadmother blogger, Catherine, summed it up perfectly:  

"This is my motherhood.  These are my boobs.  Hands off."

AND NOW, FOR A DIFFERENT KIND OF ORAL REPORT

With Pukefest 2009 safely Oxy'd away, we were finally able to get back to putting the finishing touches on our oral reports this afternoon.

The theme was March coming in like a lion and going out like a lamb, so Chago chose to do his report on a lion.  Saia chose the lamb.  Their basic requirements were to develop a cover page, answer a few general questions, do a little research and come up with at least two unusual facts about each.  They'll be presenting their reports to their class and to the third grade class sometime this week.

Presenting, people!  At 5 years old! I can't be the only one who thinks this is crazy.

But, naturally, we went overboard.  Yes, WE -- the royal we.  Hey, I don't have a job right now.  What do you THINK I'm gonna be doing if not doting on my children and pageant-momming their every single project?!  Do you not know me at all???

So, they worked really hard all last week to find 10 interesting facts each.  Yes, I know the teacher asked for two.  But ten is a nice round number, too.  Shut up.

And they jotted everything down in their notebooks and then off we went to Michael's on Thursday to find posterboards for her LAMB BINGO and his ODD FACTS ABOUT LIONS (their own titles, by the way).

Then they took each of their facts and annotated them to fit them onto their posters. His under fact wheels. Hers under numbered sticky notes.

And except for standing over them with a whip and and egg timer, I really didn't do anything at all.

Once they've given their presentations at school this week, I'll videotape them at home and post their final products.

So, stay tuned.

CURSED MUSEUM FOOD!!

Shortly after bedtime (isn't it always), the moans and groans began.

"Mama, my tummy hurts," yells Saia.  And our simultaneous and immediate canned response = "have you gone potty today?"  

[Sadly, with two under six-years-old, this phrase has become so commonplace in our household that Amy and I will often find we do this to each other as well, and, to our own great horror and surprise, no less than 5 times out in public so far.  But that's neither here nor there.]

Then sometime during Saturday Night Live, which we're ever only really half-awake for, we hear "the noises" coming from the downstairs bathroom.  By the time I make it to their bathroom, she's standing in front of the toilet, just completely drenched.  Like...dripping.  Yes, really.

And in this moment I'm grateful for two things.  1) That we happened to braid her hair before bed, and 2) Citrus-scented Fabreze. 

For your part, you should be very grateful I did not take pictures.

To her credit, our poor little baby, she miraculously managed to hold it in as she raced to the bathroom down the hall. There wasn't a single drop or chunklet between the 5-foot-spew zone around her bed and the toilet. Not a trace.

But that's about it for the silver lining.

What there was...was putrid puke soup ALL OVER HER ROOM.  Her pillows were covered, her blankets were soaked.  Her stuffed animals were nearing suffocation.  Her canopy coated in the chunky unidentifiable mess was dressed with stringy gunky things that dangled over her step stool.  But all of that was even....well, manageable.  What we both stood and just stared at in utter disbelief before we began to swoon with the toxic fumes was what used to be the WHITE carpet.

Again, the appreciate for lack of photographic evidence should be overwhelming you right now.

But once we got her all stripped down, cleaned up and changed, sponged and scrubbed and wiped up all remnants, flung open windows, Lysol'd every single inch of the entire downstairs, and emptied out an entire can of carpet cleaning foam onto her floor, we got her comfortably set up on a pull-out mattress on the floor of our bedroom, and, at least for the moment, she seemed to be finally drifting off to sleep.  

When after about, oh, two minutes, we heard "the noises" again from downstairs.

Chago, however, tends to not be so independent about these things.  And, literally, just sat up in his bed and spewed all over his pillow and himself while screaming and crying in between gags that he just didn't want to be sick and couldn't I just make it stop.

Cleaned up, clothes changed, more loads of laundry, more Fabreze.  

Rinse and repeat.

Finally got both monsters settled down on the pull-out bed around 2am.  But that's when the real fun began.  Up and down to the restroom for the next 5 hours.  And yes, of course they took turns (so it felt exactly like it did when they were 3 months old and not yet on a sleeping schedule -- i.e., the second we laid one down, the other one started to cry).  

But by 3:30 or so, we had it down.  We'd laid a trail of towels from the mattress to the bathroom.  On the back of toilet was a bottle of water for rinsing -- NOT DRINKING -- as everyone learned very quickly after chugging it the first time that it only made for a more watery grave for their bile the next time around.  Right next to the toilet was a container of Clorox wipes, so that after each episode, I could wipe down the entire area in the vague hopes that it might be the last time.  On the counter waiting for them, was a capful of their children's mouthwash.  Swish, gargle, spit.  And then onto the Costco-sized bottle of hand sanitizer, which they just hit mechanically as they trudged back to their makeshift bed, already half asleep before they even hit the pillow. 

It was a veritable assembly line of germicides.  But you better bet it was damn-well efficient, baby!

And then sometime on Sunday afternoon, we have no idea what time it was -- because on top of no sleep, no food, seared nostril hairs, and the delirium that had set in, SOMEONE decided it was the best possible day to change the clocks -- we all started crawling out from underneath our blankets.

The rest of our day consisted of chicken broth, napping, unsalted saltines (yes, I realize oxymoronicity of this), napping, bananas, napping, and Gatorade.

Still no idea what exactly they ate on Saturday that could've done this, but am not very happy with the museum today.

And, just a guess, but we're probably staying home tomorrow. 

HE DID IT! YAY! A BLUE CARD WEEK -- FINALLY!

Although I'm still convinced he was able to negotiate his way out of a couple of potential green cards this week (which, in my book, would probably earn him a few extra brownie points), ultimately he ended the week on an ultra high note -- 5 blue cards!  A phenomenal feat for our little squirmy worm.  Regardless of how he got there.

For his reward, he chose to go to the new California Academy of Science museum, which we've all been dying to see since December, but, well, have been trudging through a sea of green and yellow cards for the last 2 1/2 months!

So, yeah, we made it.  And it was very very cool.  The architecture was truly amazing.  The living roof was visually spectacular and just the pinnacle of the green things the building stands for.  It had an aquarium, a planetarium, a historical museum, and live animals.  My only complaint was that I wanted more.  

Amy says she read that they use it as a night club after hours, which must just be the neatest thing.  Well, unless you're in one of the tanks, I guess, with strobe lights and a disco ball assaulting your senses every Saturday night.  Maybe we can even see the unfortunate epileptic affects live on the 24-hour Penguin Cams.

For the rest of the series, click here: The Monsters' Photo Page

Also, as a side comment -- found it very sad (or not) that my new camera died midway through our day and I had to resort to my iPhone for the rest of the shots...and you can't even tell the difference.  Is this a good thing?

THE TOOTH FAIRY COMETH -- OR ELSE, MOMMY WILL!

Poor baby.

She's got two loose teeth now. And at least 4 people in her class have already lost one of their own. She's ACHING for them to come out, but they are flat out refusing.

She tried doing the apple-a-day thing for a while, but that got old after two days. And both Amy and I are just sick to death of seeing her nasty grubby little hands in her mouth every second of every day fiddling with her pearly whites. But she wants it out. She does. But she's scared, naturally, and starting to feel a little attached (pardon the pun) to it and not really wanting to let go of a part of her body that's been with her "for ALL MY LIFE," she says.

But now, to top it all off, she's got a monster of a tooth (thanks, Mom) protruding from behind her stubborn baby ones. And if she doesn't let her Mommy yank out one of those little wiggly ones with that red thread tied to a doorknob soon, that honker of a tooth is gonna turn around and just eat her own tongue!!!

PROP 8 HEARINGS TODAY!!

I'll be tweeting up-to-the-minute posts via Twitter (in the sidebar) and on Facebook.

Come join me.

And view the arguments live on CNN.com Live at 9am PST.

WELL-WORLD WEDNESDAY

Okay, so I'm posting this on Friday for the Wednesday I missed this week, but I wanted to get into the habit of posting some easy things you can do around the house to help conserve energy and minimize your carbon footprint while saving money -- me, being the one without the jobby job, you know, and any source of substantial income (or social interaction, let's not forget).

So, I found this amazing list of stuff you can today -- for free -- and some other stuff you can do for very little -- that will make you feel like you're actually doing something besides just separating the cans from the glass from the plastics.

Granted, most of it is common sense, but I'm totally guilty of being non-sensical on a daily basis, so it doesn't pain me too much to get whacked over the head now and again with a reminder.

At the top of my "who knew?" list, though, are these little gems:

• Disconnect the microwave bulb (yes, I, too, thought the bulb had something to do with the cooking, but evidently, no)
• Unbundle wet laundry before placing in dryer (and then use dryer's moisture sensor)
• Place newspaper under mattress to trap heat (am guessing conservative right-wing papers would retain more hot air, too)

LET'S GET READY TO BOWWWWWLLLLL!

Really love that they're getting older.  That the things we wouldn't even have dreamed of doing a couple of years ago suddenly become part of our new and regular routine.  Like bowling, for instance.  

We've tried it once or twice before, sure, but on the whole it was waaaay more work than it was worth.  And, truthfully, it was really kinda painful -- particularly without beer in hand. But now that they're strong enough to carry their own balls and can actually make it all the way to the line without just dropping the ball on the floor...or on SOMEone's poor unsuspecting foot...or into the not-so-terribly-pleased neighbor's lane, we don't even miss not having the beer around.  Well, yeah, ok, maybe just a little. But the seasoned curly fries kinda make up for that.

And now that they can actually take instruction and make some genuine attempts to aim and even pick up a spare here and there (with the grateful assistance of bumpers, of course), they're just a whole lot more fun to hang out with. And even the occasional tantrums over missed pins are somewhat tolerable, seeing as how we ALL tend to take turns sharing THAT sentiment throughout the course of a game.

All told, though, we had a great time. Until the bill arrived, that is, and we were shocked to see we hadn't actually spent any less than when we go to the movies or to the museums or to play putt-putt (that's mini-golf to you non-Texans). And I remember when I was a kid that it used to be really cheap to go bowling. And they even had beer there, too! (Was that just a Texas thing, too?) And yes, walking to school uphill in the snow with no shoes on and all that. But seriously, does anyone know of any family activity ideas that won't cost us an arm and a leg? And don't bother with the hiking, biking, outdoorsy things. Just...don't.

IN LOVE WITH THE SOUND OF HIS OWN VOICE

Chago on the way to school this morning after we spent nearly 3 hours yesterday preparing his poster board and his speech for his Star Student presentation this week.

"Mom, I think I'm gonna like being the Star Student."

"Oh, yeah?  Why's that, bub?"

"Well, because everyone's going to be looking at me.  But not because I did something bad this time."

"Well, that's true, I suppose.  And do you like it when everyone looks at you?"

"Well, it's not so much the looking, but what I really like is that they all have to be quiet while I do all the talking."

[Mm-hm.  A boy after my own heart.]

EPISODE 1 - TEXAS

In which the monsters reminisce about our last visit to Texas in their continual efforts to try to guilt me into another trip.