His Girl, I've Been A Bad Girl

So I have to chuckle. His Girl, upon reading a few of my Good Housekeeping blogs, and seeing my responses to some fairly unenlightened folks, basically joked, "You just like messing with people, don't you?"

Um, yeah. I don't take it too personally. And I leave all comments up, even the ones I don't agree with. The only ones I send to the abuse team is the random spam telling me they'd like to "Eat my cat..." if you catch my drift. (Sorry Patches @ The Litter Pan. Hope that didn't scare you.)

And the bad spelling from some of these commenters? Fine. I really believe everyone deserves a voice. And Lurd nos I make lots of puntuation arrors if you catch my drift.

But stuff like responses like this post about the boundaries wives need to set? Oh my God... I live for it. Hence the highlited stimulating conversation here. I wish I could make this stuff (and the use of capitalization) up:

Posted by cooldude 8 hours 1 minute ago

" IF YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH ONE ANOTHER YOU WOULD NOT NEED ALL THIS ----- YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT YOU DO NOT NEED RULES IF YOU ARE IN LOVE JUST GET IN THE BED AND SATISFY EACH OTHER IF MY WIFE COME TELLING THAT BULL ----- ABOUT RULES I WOULD GET UP GO GET ME A WHORE AND TELL WY WIFE TO KISS MY ASS"

From Me:

Cooldude - Being in love, like anything, takes work. You just don't "stay in la-la land" forever. Life gets in the way. If you spoke to me like you write here, I'd not only tell you to go get a whore, I'd also encourage you to get a dictionary. You could study it while sleeping in your own bed.

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

We're Baaaaackkkkk...........

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

So Long, Farewell...

I'm going on vacation! Yeah! I'm leaving on Monday for almost a full week. I will be without cell phone, computer, DVD player or telephone. That's elating, and terrifying, all at once.

This past week just about did me in, what with shopping, car cleaning, errands, end of school activities, shots for kindergarten, going away parties... on and on.

My poor Stink... I took him in on Thursday for his final immunizations. On Saturday I took him to get his TB shot marks tested (he's fine) but the nurse found his arm all swollen from his other shots.

I felt like the worst mom ever, because I hadn't really noticed it. I thought all arms swelled up like piping hot balloons after being stabbed by sharp needles..

I was doing okay with this change of plans until one doctor came in and looked at his puffy shoulder with dismay. Then he asked another doctor to come in for a second opinion.

Then they both went outside to "confer." All the blood in my body drained at that moment. I went to a deep, dark place that no mother should ever go to..

When the original doc came back in with news of a new shot of antibiotics for the infection, plus medicine, I burst into tears. "It's not something else, right? I mean, that's not why you called in the second doctor... because there's a reason he hasn't healed as quickly as he should have?"

He looked at me like I had just belched the Ave Maria and said, "If you want to think something dramatic, that's your call. But I'm telling you on the surface what it is: An infection."

I can only hope that my firecracker Pip becomes a doctor one day. I pray that she'll get that man as a patient. And when he jumps to conclusions because maybe, six months earlier, his wife had been diagnosed with something, and he doesn't take things for granted any more, and he's freaking out over some dick rash he got for sctupping a hooker, and thinks he's going to die a terrible death, Pip looks at him and gives him the same words back, "If you want to think something dramatic, that's your call. But I'm telling you on the surface what it is: an infection." .

And when he breathes a sigh of relief, I hope she'll add, "Sadly, we're all out of antibiotics. YOU'RE GONNA DIE." .

* Photo of one of my best friends, Topanga T, with Stink at the beach. She is getting married on Wednesday in Italy to the most darling 24 year old man on the planet. I've known her since I've been 4. That was 33 years ago. You do the math.

I'm so happy for her. She has always loved my kids like they were her own, and never once... not once... made me feel like I'm somehow contributing less to society because my priorities are more home based. She is a true sister who I adore. Everyone, please wish her good luck, pray, spit in water fountains... whatever it is you do to spread well wishes!

Lets Hear it For the Boys!

So do you know that there are actually a few men who read all my chicky ramblings? Sadly (or perhaps fortunately) one of them is not Rex.

But some do dare to swim in this virtual pool of estrogen. I am going to list them here. Go on over and give 'em some love. Their blogs are great. And so... male. Fishing. Sports. Camping. Books about war. Pheasants. Miniature gaming pieces. Single dad musings.

You men kill me. But I love ya. I give you, with warnings in ( ):

1. Em (Sweet daddy and hubby... ahhhh... If you're fighting with your spouse, read him for inspiration. Or not if it'll make you more mad.)

2. McShowoff (Lots of balls here. That's all I'm sayin'.)

3. Troyboy (Puns galore. Lots of lists. Some radical opinions on rambunctious kids at Dairy Queens and prisoners on Death Row.)

4. Travis Erwin (Super smart. Will make you feel bad for being a lazy ass if you don't read.)

5. Long Island Wargammer (Miniature war pieces and Jesus are his favorite men. Don't get him started if you don't want to listen.)

6. Baldo Daddy (Single dad with music knowledge rivaling Troyboy. I see an internet game of chicken here.)

*** 7. Brad Paisley (Really funny music.)

I hope you find some of these links amusing. If you have a penis, and I forgot you, please let me know.

Photo above of my new pets. Aren't they cute? They don't have papers, but they don't chew the furniture, so I'll keep them.

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

*** Brad Paisley doesn't really read my blog. But I still love him.

Do You Talk To Strangers?

I really want to know, because I talk to everyone. All the time. I can't help it. It's probably why I like blogging. It's, as I wrote someone else today, like virtual people watching.

Yesterday, for example, I struck up a conversation with Ninny - the same lady who has been handing me my husband's drycleaning for the past two years. She mentioned something about being married for 50 years. So I asked about how she liked it.

A simple question that some might just answer, "Oh, fine..." But I got instead the following points:

* Her husband has been "in heaven" for nine years.
* She liked being married okay. Good points, bad points. "Asian marriages aren't the most passionate. We're kind of luke warm. It's why it lasts." (Is this true? Any Asian readers out there? Because that kind of goes against what I hear from my guy friends about "hot Asian chicks". Perspective, I guess.)
* She sometimes desires male companionship, but she really digs being able to watch Jeopardy whenever she darn well feels like it
* She owned a drive thru market - several of them - when she first came to L.A. in the 70's. "And did you know gas was only 14cents?" She sold fuel at some of the more successful ones.
* Sex is okay, but stability is more important.
* It costs too much to drive, but with kids, sometimes it's important to say the heck with it and go some place. Time goes by fast.

People, I got all this in 5 minutes. It's amazing. And the more I spoke to her, the more I saw how really beautiful she was. I mean, not that she wasn't pretty before, but it's easy to overlook people's traits in the rush of checking off the to-do list.

If I know one thing, it's that humans like to share. And be connected. Perhaps it's why I blog, to answer an earliar question.

Do you chat with strangers? If not, why?


More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

The Morals in Aspargus

Every night we say prayers, followed by stories. It's customary to include people we know and events we've attended. Sometimes there's a moral. Often times they are silly. Tonight was no different.

Me: "One day Mommy and Papa and Scooby and Shaggy...

Pip: "And Dora and Boots..."

Stink: "And everyone we ever met in our whole life.."

Me: "...Went to the 99Cents Store. Mommy boughts a red balloon, Stink bought a blue one, Pip bought a pink one and Papa bought a green one. Scooby wanted one shaped like a Scooby snack, but they didn't have any. So he howled and howled."

Giggle giggle from said rug rats as they snicker at my lame attempts at whining like a sad canine. Continuing:

Me: "Shaggy tried to tell him what Mommy tells you guys about not getting what you want. 'You get what you get...' .

Stink: "And you don't get upset."

Me: "Right. Finally Scooby agreed that any balloon was better than no balloon, so he chose a helium one shaped like an asparagus."

Giggle giggle.

Me: "And as he was walking down the street, everyone said, 'Hey, Scoob, cool asparagus balloon! In fact, he got so many compliments, he went back and bought the rest of the asapargus balloons from the store."

Stink: "Yeah! And it cost him Twenty Seventy dollars!"

Me: "Uh-huh. And this time, when he walked out of the store, he was overcome by so much helium that he flew high into the sky. And when they got popped by a bird, he landed on top of none other than a SCOOBY SNACK FACTORY!"

Pip: "And he ate a million zillion Scooby Snacks?"

Me: "You got it! And he was so happy. Because while he didn't end up with a Scooby Snack balloon, he got the real deal, which was waaaay better than he could have anticipated. And that just shows that sometimes what you think is a mistake, and something you really never considered, turns out to be the best thing that could have ever happened."

Given that's what transpired when Stink was only nine months old and I got pregnant with Pip, the moral of that particular store rang very sweet in my ears..

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

Why Do You Blog? Blogher Conference!

I have been meaning to ask you all this for some time now: Why do you blog? Or, if you don't blog, why do you read them? Feel free to come out of hiding if you've never commented here before. I promise not to stalk you. Not even if you come to...

Blogher. I'll be there July 18 - July 20. At this point, I'm only attending the July 19 conference. I'm not really into the rah-rah scene, so I'm scared that three days of women jabbering about writing might send me into a coma.

Will you email me if you're going? BabyCenterAndrea@Yahoo.com

Lorelle talks about blogging here.

Meanwhile, why do I blog? A few reasons:

1. It's a fun record of silly events that make my life worthwhile

2. I have met incredible people with similar outlooks on life

3. I have met incredible people with diverse outlooks on life

4. I have helped educate people about things near and dear to my heart

5. It polishes my voice

What do I fear about blogging?

1. That no one really cares about my silly life, and why should they?

2. That one day my kids will be angry at me for writing about them

3. That I don't really say what I want to say, so I'm trivializing my existence and not showing the real me

What do I hope to do more from blogging?

1. I'd like to make some money off my own blog, not just writing for other corporations (Though THANK YOU, Big Corporations, for letting me write for you! I can't believe you haven't fired me yet! Wait... that sounds weird. Back to my original question...)

WHY DO YOU DO THIS? WHY DO YOU READ THIS? Are we all really as narcissitic as critics of blogs seem to think? (Just Google my question - you'll see lots of real "journalists" who think we're pretty lame.)

In closing, my goal is to not hurt someone's feelings with my internet writing. If there was a code of conduct to sign, I'd sign it. Once was enough and I still feel bad about it, inadvertant or not.

So that's it. Who are you? Why do you blog or read?

Did you have a good weekend? Did you bake? Did you have lots of sex? Did you sleep? Did you go to church, temple or a nudist colony? What is up? (If you were at a nudist colony, don't answer that last question.)

* Photo of my silly little Pip. Why? Because I friggin' ADORE her and it's my own little narcissitic blog, so there.

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.

Coming out of My Shell

Did ya'll know that summer is almost here? This means bathing suits, beer and hopefully some random trips to places without clocks, cell phones and alarms.

Along those lines, I managed to carve out some magical moments with my family this week. Sad that I have to "make time" for it, but as a high energy, goal oriented person, I consciously must say, "Hey, what's the rush? The kids are only young once."

One of our unexpected jaunts was to a local outdoor mall after school today. Unextraordinary was the chain restaurants and Disneyfied ponds with supersized coy fish bigger than the average patron's collagen injected lips.

Extraordinary was Stink finding a random turtle wandering near some construction under an oak tree. We scooped it up, gingerly placed it in the pond, and laughed as it "Found its way back to his mommy!"

Despite days of wondering if I'm really cut out to shape the lives of two little human beings, I'm honored at how many of my childrens' stories

include happy little rugrats and their fearless mommies.

A few nights back, as I stroked my little man's moppy blond curls, I once again told him how much I loved him. "I love you so much, I can't..."

Stink: "You can't stand it!"

Me: "It's true. I can't. Do I tell you that too much?"

Stink: "It's okay. You can tell me that all the time!"

Me: "Even when you're older?"

Stink: "Even when I'm huuuuge. Like...8."

Me: "And what about when you're 11? Even then?"

Stink: "Uh-huh."

Me: "And you won't care if I say it around your friends at school?"

Stink: (pause) "Mommy, let's not do that."

And that answer, my friends, is precisely why I'm taking the time to relocate the lost turtles while I can.

More of my writing can be found on Goodhousekeeping
& Babycenter. I write under the name Andrea Frazer. Drop me a note! I’d love it! Or don’t.