Urban Mama

Where She Went...

If you love YA like I do, you know the title of today's blog post comes from the second book in Gayle Foreman's excellent Adam and Mia chronicles. But right now the title is actually about me. I haven't been here for a while (no surprise there, as I can only manage to update about once or twice a month), because I've been writing nearly nonstop at a bunch of different places, including The DC Moms, a collaborative blog where I serve as Editor in Chief.

The DC Moms is  a labor of love with 30 other area women I'm lucky to count as friends. Seriously. They are not just "fellow bloggers" or "women I know" or that dreaded moniker "mommy bloggers." They are friends, writers, and mothers I respect and admire. 

While we sometimes write about DCist experiences, like surviving yesterday's earthquake (the kids and I lamely missed the ground shaking by being in Rosie the van on our way to meet our good friends at their pool club), we also wax poetic about Celeb Crushes and discuss parenting, fashion, health, recipes, you name it.

I've only written a few posts so far, about loving Michael Fassbender (although I'm right there with the other crushes too), eating fancy pizza in Leesburg, and missing Harry Potter. Check us out!

 

 

Grief Never Ends

On the plane-ride to London, I read the book "The Sky Is Everywhere" by Jandy Nelson on my Kindle. It was one of those impulse purchases courtesy of Amazon's recommendations. I couldn't stop reading, even after the husband start snoozing. The protagonist Lennie aka John Lennon to one of the most irresistible boys in YA literature (is there any other kind?) is grieving the sudden death of her talented, charismatic, beautiful older sister (again, I say from personal experience as an adoring baby sister, is there any other kind?). She constantly writes notes, poems, memorized conversations, confessions, and everything in between to Bailey on walls, scraps of paper, furniture, candy wrappers, anything she can mark on -- and then she throws them to the wind or hides them, leaving them behind for the earth to swallow up.

Toward the end of the novel, Lennie has a pivotal revelation:

"Grief is forever. It doesn't go away; it becomes part of you, step for step, breath for breath. I will never stop grieving Bailey because I will never stop loving her. That's just how it is. Grief and love are conjoined, you don't get one without the other. All I can do is love her, and love the world, emulate her by living with daring and spirit and joy."

Reading those words, I cried (which I do with alarming frequency while reading YA books). I felt like Jandy Nelson had written them for me, just as Len wrote just for Bailey. I have re-read that line so many times, my Kindle automatically opens to it any time I click on the title. That's exactly how grief feels. It never ends.

I was reminded of this fact yesterday when I found an old journal Mami received in 2003 at a cancer awareness event attended by the late Colombian singer and breast-cancer advocate Soraya (who died in May, 2006). Mami only wrote in it for three days, so only two pages were filled. It was late October, and she had just undergone her first cycle of chemotherapy via her port; she was exhausted. Mami was nervous, she kept repeating, but she was going to put her health in God's hands. She wrote about being excited to have Thanksgiving at my sister's new house. I had just called her with our travel arrangements.

There was nothing particularly emotional in her prose, but as I read it on the DC Metro on my way to a "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" screening, I began to cry again. Two young Mormon missionaries kept sneaking glances at me, probably wondering if I needed prayer (I probably would've welcomed it). I recovered only in time to walk into the movie theater.

Because grief is forever. But that means my love for her is too.

Things I Like About Me

My lovely friend Elena at C. Mom invited her DC Mom pals to participate in a day of celebrating ourselves. In this one post, I will not complain about my perpetually frizzy-in-summer hair,  or my bigger-than-I'd-like figure, or anything else that's negative. Today I'm going to push down whatever petty aversions I have about myself and reclaim what I like about being me. So here we go.

1. I like my long-term memory (don't ask me where I put my keys/purse/book/sunglasses, though!). I love it that my friends and family constantly turn to me to settle a bet about when something happened or just act as their collective memory bank. Even if occasionally someone might think I'm stalking them (me: "How was your mother's foot surgery? them: What? How did you know about that? me: you told me... eight months ago when we last saw each other them: looks at me like a freak before squeaking "I can't believe you remember that!")

2. I like that I get paid to watch movies and television shows and interview actors, producers and directors. I've always (ask my siblings) loved pop culture, so getting to stay on top of it is a dream.

3. I like that my freelance career allows me to have a flexible schedule. After I was laid off at AOL in December, 2006 (hey, it's a rite of passage), I cried and cried and cried, and then a week later my friend Peter offered me my very first freelance gig, to write for Variety. A month later, the folks at Common Sense Media offered me a position as their senior movie critic, and four-and-a-half years later, I also contribute to the Washington Post and for my friend Kevin at MTV's Next Movie. I even came full circle to return contributing to AOL's Moviefone as the "Moviefone Mama." And thanks to being a freelancer, I'm still able to chauffeur my kids around, be a class parent, send my preschoolers to a cooperative school, and show my children how lucky I am to be able to work this way. It's not always easy (this week I have 11 deadlines!), but it's so satisfying.

4. I like that I can make people laugh. I'm far from the next Sarah Silverman, but I can throw a zinger when I want to (mostly thanks to my husband, who has a wicked sense of humor).

5. I like that I'm a good friend. I know how to keep in touch, remember important details, ask the right questions, and empathize with friends having a tough time. I'm not a fair-weather pal who will drop someone at the first whiff of drama or grief. I'm in it for the long haul.

6. I like being the Baby Sister of my family. Even though I used to hate being 10, 12, 14 years younger than my siblings, I now love that my brothers and sister look to me for advice on what movies to see, what books to read, what shows to watch, how to use the Internet (cough, Louis, cough), what apps to buy, etc. The only thing they don't ask me is what to make for dinner.

7. I like that I get "obsessive" about certain topics. I'm the kind of person who didn't just read "Into Thin Air," I read every article about that doomed trip to Everest, two other biographies of climbers who disagreed with Jon Krakauer, watched a documentary and generally couldn't stop talking about it for months and months. I become an amateur expert. I read and read and read, and then I evangelize about the topic or genre (Young Adult novels, the last days of the Romanovs, Holocaust literature, Mormonism, Battlestar Galactica, Lost, Glee, you name it) until at least one of my friends or siblings joins me in my madness. Just ask my sister, whom I've convinced to read many a book, including the Harry Potter series, since I'm an unabashed fangirl.

8. I like that people find it easy to tell me their stories. I don't blanche at the thought of someone who just met me telling me something difficult about themselves, much less a friend I've known for ages.

9. I like that I remain trusting (for the most part!), even though I've been conned and mugged. I don't think of myself as gullible anymore, but I am still open -- to new friendships and experiences.

10. I like that my people can count on me -- to join them for a coffee and conversation; to volunteer when no one else wants to; to watch their kids in a pinch; to show them the correct way to nit-pick; to cry with them through their divorces, miscarriages, rejections; and to celebrate their many successes.

OK, so that's me! Now back to my many "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II" deadlines!

Type-A Mom 2011 Highlights

• Amy aka Teach Mama and Joanne aka Pundit Mom are not only fabulous traveling companions and drivers, they're brilliant writers with so much to say. To quote my eloquent friend Stimey, Joanne's new book, "Mothers of Intention: How Women & Social Media Are Revolutionizing Politics in America", " "highlights the ways that women and mothers are relevant, smart, and important. Highly recommended!" The best part of the book is that it's incredibly balanced -- liberal, conservative, moderate -- all voices are represented... And Amy, well, she makes me a better mother. Just today, I had to stop myself from saying "You know this!" to my daughter when she was reading because of Teach Mama's latest tips. She's the kind of mother I strive to be!
• Asheville has an artsy, foodie-friendly downtown, with scrumptious chocolate, coffee, crepe, and tapas places. I owe a special shout out to the Green Sage Cafe, which earns an honorary Pillow Cafe award for being an awesome neighborhood coffee shop where a wireless-less girl could grab a mocha and sit for three hours to work.
• Tissues are in order when Susan aka WhyMommy takes the stage. Her powerful acceptance speech at the Bloganthropy Awards blew the audience away and honored her 19 collaborators at Mothers With Cancer.
• Stacey aka Justice Fergie and I roomed together for the first time and realized we have So. Much. In. Common. Well, except her husband was a former college football player, and mine is a former college newspaper editor, but still! We even wore the exact same style of nightwear: a T-shirt (hers was of her business, mine of my kids' preschool) and print pajama pants.
• It's apparently unanimous: water polo players are beautiful creatures. Sheila and Fiona gave me the scoop, which was necessary for something I'm writing. Thanks, ladies. And also thanks to Amy and Joanne for humoring my obsessive research on the subject.
• My good friend Leticia aka Tech Savvy Mama looks amazing in colors, instead of her traditionally black wardrobe, thanks to her new Fresh Produce ensembles.
• Sometimes just having one amazing conversation a day is worth the price of going to a conference.
• Corolle Dolls and Mamanista graciously donated a huge bag full of mini dolls, so I can give them to A Wider Circle's Well Mother, Well Baby campaign.
• I'm a little bit crazed about lice awareness, so I might have frightened Child's Play Communications' account executive for Fairy Tales Haircare with my intensity on the subject.
• Some women are truly kindred spirits, and I wish I lived closer to them instead of seeing them twice a year at blogging conferences.
• Lastly, I am blessed with THE best regional group of fellow bloggers in the world. I'm not exaggerating. My DC Moms crew is fiercely loyal, supportive and kind. I wish I'd had more time to spend with Lolli and Jill (next time!). It was inspiring to be with Amy, Elena, Leticia, Joanne and Stacey throughout the conference. Whether we were eating delicious bacon and trout-filled meals or just brainstorming for our upcoming venture, you made this a memorable trip. (Ellen and Christina, you were great honorary DCists!)

School's Out! Summer Reading Challenge

School's officially out in these parts, and now I face an entire summer of making sure my kids continue to read and learn and don't get sucked into the dreaded "summer slide." To help parents and kids this summer -- particularly as so many county libraries lack the funds to run their own summer-reading programs -- Scholastic, iVillage and PBS Kids have teamed up for the iVillage Summer Reading Community Challenge. If you sign up, you get daily assignments to keep you and your kids motivated all summer long.

I hosted a Book Party to let my kindergartener's school mates and some of our neighbors know about the program, and they had so much fun filling out a giant Mad-Lib story, talking about their favorite books, and of course, trying on the Dr. Seuss hat and Arthur glasses. While the kids were playing, the adults played "literary celebrity." Each parent had a famous author's name attached to their backs and had to guess who they were based on yes and no questions. Some parents got theirs right away (J.K. Rowling, J.R.R. Tolkien, whereas others couldn't figure out which writer they were, like E.B. White and Virginia Woolf). But everyone got to participate, even if they weren't a natural at "Celebrity."

I also asked the several moms who attended to share their favorite children's book authors and some tips on how to keep their kids motivated to read during the summer. Here's what my friends had to say:

Suggested reading (or read-aloud):

"The Magic Treehouse" series by Mary Pope Osborne

"Little House on the Prairie" by Laura Ingalls Wilder

"Harry Potter" books by J.K. Rowling

"The Chronicles of Narnia" by C.S. Lewis

"Ivy and Bean" books by Annie Barrows

"Mercy Watson" books by Kate DiCamillo

"Rainbow Fairies" books by Daisy Meadows

"Ramona Quimby" books by Beverly Cleary

"Black Stallion" series by Walter Farley

"The Indian in the Cupboard" books by Lynne Reid Banks

"Big Nate" books by Lincoln Peirce

"Bone" graphic novels by Jeff Smith

Favorite authors:

• Lloyd Alexander
• Margaret Wise Brown
• Dr. Seuss
• Shel Silverstein
• Cynthia Ryland
• EB White
• Beverly Cleary
• JK Rowling
• Mo Willems
• Judy Blume

Tips for raising readers:

• Let them see you reading as often as possible, so they know it's part of your life
• Read aloud at night, even if your kids can read by themselves
• Reward finishing a book with a brand-new (or newly checked-out) book
• Have a book club-like discussion about books you and your children have read together
• Put all the new summer books in a special basket for each kid to go through
• Regular trips to the library
• Let kids read anywhere -- bed, potty, breakfast counter, car
• Put some books in a bag and carry it around
• Hesitant reader? Let them read comics, graphic novels

 

Thank you, iVillage, PBS Kids and Scholastic for sending me the party kit. I was not compensated to host, but all of my guests received two Martha Speaks books courtesy of PBS Kids.

 

Father's Day Memories

Father's Day

is bittersweet.

is bitter, knowing you don't really have memories of your Papi but only flashes of what you think are memories based on what other people have told you about him. Growing up, you hated Father's Day and felt cheated every single year.

is sweet, knowing your own children have such a loving, kind, engaged father, who is always willing to... cook them a meal, tell them a story, ride bikes, pitch a tent, go exploring for cool bugs, take a hike, explain science, government, religion, and geography, and give them "kisses and cuddles."

I hope my kids are grateful of the blessing they have in their father.

Ten Things I Love About My Husband

My husband and I celebrated our 10th anniversary on June 2, 2011. As a joint gift to each other, we traveled to London and Paris sans kids for the 11 days leading up to our anniversary. Ten feels special and worthy of congratulations. Being married in double digits isn't easy, and it would be a Big Fat Lie to say that every day of those 10 years has been filled with the same level of optimism and passion as we felt on our honeymoon. Some downright awful things have happened. We've dealt with family stress. We've bickered a lot and occasionally fought. But we've also laughed so hard we hiccoughed with exhaustion and cried happy tears at the sight of each other holding our three newborn children. Through it all, I remain convinced that falling in love with and marrying my best friend was the smartest decision I ever made.

In the spirit of starting out our second decade of marriage on a blissful note, I'm going to name 10 things I love about my husband. No need to look away, siblings, these are all PG rated.

1. The man knows his way with a map. He may not have been an Eagle Scout (like my stepsister's husband), but his years of Scouting and general sense of exploration make him a natural leader wherever we go. I've never wondered "how do we get from... the Marais to the Eiffel Tower or from our campsite to the hiking trail or the mall to our parking space" because he always knows. I, on the other hand, routinely get off of elevators at familiar places and walk in the wrong direction.
2. The man can talk about anything. I'm not saying he's a Genius, and he has only beaten me at Scrabble twice in our entire marriage + courtship (15 years!), but he reads enough periodicals and nonfiction books (and half-listens to all my movies and pop-culture chatter) to talk about almost anything. He's not an expert, but he can hold his own -- and charm his way -- through a conversation with new people.
3. He complements me. Notice the "e." He's not a big complimenter, but he does pick up the Ying to my Yang. I'm observant of people but not places (hence my nonexistent sense of direction), and I read fiction and remember birthdays and know random, obscure details about everyone I've ever met. He reads historical tomes and knows how to tie knots and remembers the differences between architectural styles and can take a bicycle apart and put it together again. I can list every movie Denzel Washington has ever made, and he can list all of the Senators. We make a kick-ass team at Trivial Pursuit.
4. He's funny. Even when I protest too much and occasionally shush him, I can't deny that he's a funny, funny man, and he's always good for a laugh.
5. He doesn't take himself too seriously. I've met more ridiculously Arrogant men with over-sized Egos than I care to acknowledge, and while I wouldn't call my husband humble, he's self-confident without being a Big Jerk (to others at least; he can, I admit, be slightly condescending when talking to me!).
6. He calls me on my Crazy. It's not always pleasant, but he knows when to humor me and when to confront me if I'm being irrational or oversensitive or generally a mad woman. He could just ignore me, but he cares enough to let me know (sometimes gently, sometimes not-so-gently), that I need to take a look at how I'm acting, and I'm thankful for the checks and balances.
7. He's handy. No, he's not going to single-handedly rewire our house, but he can assemble furniture; fix electronics and appliances; and act the role of family IT consultant without too much fuss. He doesn't panic when there's a storm and the lights go out -- he just gets our emergency bag and doles out the flashlights.
8. He appreciates my "gifts." Hmmm, those quote marks look kind of naughty, but I mean my accomplishments, my talents, my work -- whether with our children or professionally. When I had my first review in the Washington Post earlier this Spring, he ran out and bought a bunch, so we could save the clip, even though it's available online. When I told him a few weeks ago that I want to write a YA novel, he didn't laugh and say "Suuuuure." He said "Do it!"
9. He gets me. We're different (what partners aren't), but he understands me and takes care of me and knows when I need a cuddle or a kind word or am grieving for my mother or fed up with the housekeeping or frustrated with the kids. I know I'm the most important person in his life, and that he's devoted to our marriage.
10. He loves musicals. "The Simpsons." "Battlestar Galactica." "Lost." U2. Bruce Springsteen. Arcade Fire. Stevie Wonder. HBO documentaries. Classical music "hits." Art museums. Mumford and Sons... etc. etc. etc. He forgives me my continued commitment to "Grey's Anatomy" and Harry Potter fanfiction, and I forgive his need to watch "How It's Made" and "MythBusters" incessantly, because we can share in so many pop-culture loves together. It seems trivial, I know, but seeing as we have faith and politics in sync, our cultural interests needed to gel as well. Thank God.

 

Picture: From our afternoon tea at the Langham Hotel's Palm Court.

Myrtle Beach, We're Ready to Visit

Last night, the husband and I went to the Newseum for a tourism board-sponsored tribute to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. We don't normally attend vacation-spot events, but we actually have a family vacation planned to Myrtle Beach this summer and figured it was a good way to kick-start our trip planning. Here's three things about the area that we never knew:

1. Vanna White is a Myrtle Beach native. The letter-turning beauty (she's teeny tiny!) was born and raised in the area and spends part of every summer there every year. I haven't watched "Wheel of Fortune" since my grandmother was alive -- so some time in 1989 -- but it was still slightly surreal to see her in person, because to me she only exists when she's in front of next too a series of lit tiles or bantering with Pat Sajak.

2. South Carolina has a state dance, called The Shag (British friends, please don't laugh). I didn't know there was such a thing. There were two pairs demonstrating, and I have to say, it's one of those dances that heavily favors the men, who get -- in my opinion -- all the cool moves. Check it out:

I wonder if Florida's is the Conga, but of course, that's because I grew up in Miami. "C'mon-everybody-do-the-conga!"

3. Gullah culture is alive. My husband knows way more about politics and current events than I do (because I'm usually watching movies, writing about pop culture, or ogling sexy actors, all for work!), and he informed me that Geechee is Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas' first language! My only connection to Gullah culture was Mel Gibson's movie "The Patriot," in which his children and sister-in-law are taken to a Gullah settlement by a kind employee (his workers were somehow freed blacks). Anyhow, clearly you see which one of us knows more about the real world, and which one of us can remember movie trivia. The point is, Gullah culture and cuisine is still present in South Carolina (and Georgia).

So, I'm excited about our trip, even though I don't golf, and I'm not obsessed about going to the beach. There are some cool family attractions, like the Wonder Works amusement park, a children's museum, and a historical living history farm in Horry County. We may not see Vanna while we're down there in July, but that's all right, we'll be busy learning The Shag.

My Daughter's Questions About Weddings and Marriage

My daughter (pictured, with three friends from dance class).

I write a lot more about her than my boys, I realize. I think it's because she's a much more fiery spirit than her sweet, funny (albeit occasionally stroppy) older brother, and her adorably tyrannical baby brother (OK, he's three, but he'll forever be The Baby).

Recently, she's begun asking a lot of questions about weddings ("Do girls always have to wear white?," "If two girls get married, who wears the dress?," "Why don't you ever wear your wedding dress?," "How do you become a princess?"). It is obviously thanks to all of the Royal Wedding hoopla and my upcoming 10th anniversary, which we're celebrating with a trip to London and Paris.

Some of the questions are easy to answer ("No"; "Whoever wants to wear a dress"; "It's in storage in case you want to wear it one day"; "You either have to be born one or fall in love with a Prince who asks you to marry him"), but some of her questions about marriage beyond the wedding day are more difficult to address. She asks about our friends who are separated but still friends. She asks who gets the kids when parents don't live together anymore. She asks what makes parents stop loving each other, and she asks why every day her father and I have "fights."

The thing is, my husband and I don't have "fights" every day -- we have spirited discussions or debates that range from the banal -- whether we should buy a pocket camera as a back-up to our DSLR -- to the political -- why the Osama Bin Laden raid has stirred up a lot of hypocrisy and hurt -- to the superficial -- why funny men in Hollywood can be unattractive but not women, period. We're not even talking about these things in her presence, necessarily, but she picks up on the fact that our conversations can turn into debates, and it frightens her. We've had to explain that we're not mad at each other, we just both have strongly held opinions (about everything) and that's how we communicate.

She also sees us hug and kiss and hold hands, but I'm worried that she perceives our discussions as fights. But my husband and I aren't the type to agree about everything or have quiet, whispered conversations. So what are we to do? We're not yelling or being abusive, it's just the way we talk. We were best friends before we started dating, and part of our friendship was based in engaging in this ongoing debate.

I realize everyone interacts with their spouse differently, but sometimes I worry that she'll remember these passionate conversations more than she'll remember the way her father and I take care of each other, show compassion to each other, work as partners for the good of our family.

Home Is Where the Diversity Is

My good friend Kim and I are in the Big Easy this weekend to speak about 21st Century Families at the Mom 2.0 conference with the amazing Mir, Polly, and Deb. I'm not fully operational (I've been battling an arse-kicking virus all week, and my normally latent asthma seems to have kicked in just in time for this speaking gig), but since I'm not up to talking like I usually am, I'm going to write instead.

A native Louisianan, Kim wrote an excellent post about how growing up down here, you were either black or white, and that left her -- a Vietnamese girl -- feeling isolated and disenfranchised. She explains why that's one of the reasons she and her African-American husband choose to stay in the DC area, even though it would be much less expensive to move back to their hometown state.

Her post reminded me of why my husband and I believe cultural diversity is one of the top criteria for any place we choose to live. It's not that we hate certain regions of the country -- every single city and state has its beauty, art, architecture, and cool folks. In fact, one of the states I was most awed by after only one visit is Utah, which is statistically one of the most homogeneous.

But, in terms of where we want our kids to grow up (or in the case of New York, grow up knowing like an insider and not a tourist), we choose multicultural areas where families like ours don't get remarked upon (OK, they do, but very, very rarely, and usually only by little old ladies who call my daughter a "Chinadoll" or ask where I adopted my son from), and where my six-year-old can come up with her "matching" theory on race. Maybe I'd feel differently if my parents were alive, or if my siblings all lived in the same city, or if my husband in any way loved his Central Pennsylvania hometown, but in the absence of any preset "roots," we feel compelled to live where race is beyond black and white. Where, yes, I can't help mentioning it, the Daisy Troop consists of girls of Jewish, Mormon, Protestant, Catholic, irreligious, African, Indian, Latina, Caribbean, and several multiracial girls. We just wouldn't want it any other way.