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What I love about my daughter is her fearlessness. She wears what she wants. She dances and sings and laughs with her whole heart. And she's not afraid to say no. Or, in her case, with a very straight back and lady like gentility, "No Thank you."

Pipsqueak is the pint sized version of Mary Poppins: Self assured, polite and a bit sassy, but she's so dang beautiful, not to mention a bit bossy, you simply have to listen.

Just this week I have been schooled on keeping my elbows off the table, leaving early for school so I'm not screaming obscenities on the way out the door, and how it's best to stick with the first scheduled event rather than do too much and be late.

Many people say that Pipsqueak is her mama all the way, but truth be told, she has taught me to be more like her. If it's simply assumed that the world will courtesy for her wishes, then I might as well take on that attitude.

Speaking of, I did indeed hear back from Oprah's people. They don't accept outside submissions for work, but they did provide addresses for me to send something anyway. So I will. I'll share those with you when I can find my phone and retrieve the message. (If nothing else, what a classy organization to actually return phone calls. Nice work, Oprah!)

Sticking to my "Be Brilliant in 2010" plan, I have been in touch with several other magazines and muckety mucks - many who have turned me down. But it feels good to be back out there. I'm not doing it from a "I must validate myself" perspective. I'm doing it, as Pip has so wonderfully taught me, because my talent and love are in those areas. 

And so, I bring you this question: Why deny your talent? Why not simply, like Pip and Poppins, put on that fancy hat and let the world see the star you are on the inside?  What is holding you back if you are not?




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...you know... cause I left a message at their editorial offices today. Because they really need me over there even though they don't know it yet.

It's really odd, though, because no one has called me back yet. Not Gail, not the secretary, not even the dog walker. But I'll wait.

Just like I'll wait for that lottery scratch-off ticket to one day show me I've won 10k along with my 99cent Diet Coke purchase.

Just like I'll wait for that extra writing job that will make me happier than my last in-office job and not break my spirit doing so. (Oh, yeah, last job... loved the people - most of them anyway, but the virtual paperwork was just not for me.)

Just like I'll wait for those five items I put up on Ebay to sell. It's a tough economy when a 99cent Polo shirt isn't grabbed quicker than a pole dancer at a half-off strip tease. (Dumbest analogy ever... moving on.)

I'll wait for the soup in the crock pot to soften my carrots and for the right amount of patience and prayer to soften my heart.

I'll wait for my husband to come home safely in our L.A. rainstorm (Calling Live Doppler 7000! People have to drive slower to jobs they hate and homes they can't stand! The tragedy!) I'll wait for kids to finish their 20 minutes of computer time and my mom to call me back about the Costco Run of 2010..

I figure if Hatian Mireille Ditmer can suffer several days under a collapsed building for light and sustenance to reach her, I can do the same for more trivial matters. Yup - even a buzz from Oprah editorial offices is trivial compared to other calamaties.

Now if you'll excuse me, the kids' timer is about to beep, which means my perspective is about to be shot to oblivion as I deep breathe my way through whining and fussing until bedtime.

Actually, it won't be that bad. I'm certain the madness, like my 99cent Store box cake last night, will be full of sprinkles in the form of "I love you's" and "You're the best mama ever!"

I can't promise the two snow seals above will lavish me with affection forever, but until they change their mind, I'll be, like Oprah's call, eagerly waiting.

What are you waiting for these days?

* Photo taken in Big Bear a few weeks back. It was my kids first time in snow. They loved sliding on their bellies, but after seeing kids with fancy sleds, they wanted some themselves. After all the Christmas excess, I told them that at least for a month they'd be... yup... waiting.
 
 
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 I went to a baby shower last week for a friend who is having her second child any minute now. She's American with 100% South of the Border ancestry blood running through her veins. A Jewish American hosted, while several ladies from India contributed to the festivities, including hiring a henna lady to decorate our bodies with temporary ink. (I'm top left.)

I love my son and daughter's public school and the mamas that come along with it. Our backgrounds are different, but our love for our babies are the same. We can talk about sex and religion as supportively as we chat about immunizations and the LA school system.

One of my friends wants to take me to her Muslim temple. I'd have to wear a  hijab to her mosque - the traditional headpiece women wear in that culture.
 
At six foot one, I don't need any more reason to cause attention to myself. "Look out! It's a lighthouse covered in fabric from Joanne's 50% off sale!"

And yet, if we don't grab the opportunities in front of us to support our fellow human for what they believe in, regardless of our own faith, then what is the point of even educating our children? Isn't love and respect what it's all about?

I'm far from being a saint. A few years back I had a fight that brought me to my knees. I am still reeling from the diatribe that came from my mouth. I was a jerk. And while I can't change the past, I can learn from my mistakes, forgive myself, and pave ways for new friendships formed through openness and love.

And, on days when my kids are driving me nuts with their endless noises, that Muslim head piece is going to come in real handy. I'll just hide a walkman under it and drive down the road. A cop wouldn't suspect ANYTHING. Unless he notices that the quiet reserved Muslim mama is blasting Johnny Cash. I'd gladly pay a ticket for that.)
 
Plugging In 01/13/2010
 
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I was recently given a one-week membership to a fancy ladies gym. With the terrible earthquake on my mind, as well as so many people losing their homes in this economy, it seemed unfair and decadent that I enjoy an incredible shower, a pristine spa and a soft towel when so many have so little.

As I have often done during my two month hiatus from writing this blog, my mind started churning. "What is life really about? Why are we here? If there really is a God - why are so many people so unhappy?"

I looked into a squeaky clean mirror, free of the streaks, fog and little thumb prints so typical of my jack & jill 50's bathroom. Even the soft lighting couldn't hide the changes on my face - a face that hadn't taken a long look in the mirror in quite a while.

Soon another face, a good thirty years older than mine, joined my reflection. She didn't say much. She simply picked up a dryer in an attempt to blow out her short gray locks. Nothing happened.

"Weird," she mumbled. Soon enough, though, she found a dangling power cord. She attached it into the socket, the noise started, and she was one step closer to fabulous hair.

Clearly this woman didn't live to be her age without knowing what to do when things went wrong. She had confidence. She had know-how. She didn't spend time complaining or moaning. She took the bull by the horns and fixed it. To be specfic, she plugged it in.

How many times have I complained about the dangling power cords of my own life? My kids, my marriage, my bills, my spirituality. It dawned on me, there in the womens' locker room, that I might want things different, but it's not going to happen by whining. I have to PLUG IN. And when I'm plugged in - emotionally, physically, and spiritually - electricity happens. Growth happens. Hell, I might even get some good hair out of it.

I'm going to be 40 in a month. I don't know what the second half of my life is going to mean. But I certainly plan on spending more time attached to the power of friendship, love, hope, faith, writing, new projects and, god willing, some good humor. (I just hope I don't electrocute myself in the process. That is NOT going to help my hair issues.)
 
 
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Hi all -

I have learned a ton in the past month about blogging for pay. I have found that many people have no issues accepting a gift card and writing about the product. Thank you to the lovely folk who have said yes!

I've found that some people never want to do that. The only types of reviews they'll give are the ones that they decide to do on their own.

I have found some people would normally do a review, but have gotten busy at this time of year. Totally understandable.

What I've found the most fascinating, however, is that people who don't do reviews tend to be people that are already making a gazillion dollars on their blog. This makes sense. After all, they don't have to.

There is definitely a fine line between making some money (which you know I have no problem doing) and still being true to your own voice. After all, some of you write just to write. Others write for pay. (Me.) But at the same time, I have built up my audience based on "me" - not my product pitches. So... and here's the real tip I've learned from my job:

FULL DISCLOSURE.

Can we say it again? FULL DISCLOSURE.

This means that should you do a review for pay, always say you've been paid to do it! This at least makes you credible.

And so, on that note, I am giving FULL DISCLOSURE to say that Leapfrog has paid me in the past to write about their products. They have been very good to me, and I do really like their stuff - especially their TAG readers (these are books with electronic pens...less stimulation than a computer but still interactive for little hands... great gift for the 3 - 7 year old crowd) so I am letting you all know about their sale in case you have little ones to shop for.

At some point, if I keep doing product review, I will put a new tab up. Then, all the people who are into freebies can go there. And all of you who just don't give a rat's booty about discounts but want to hear about me - God bless you - can simply stay here.

Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

DISCLOSURE! I'M PROMOTING LEAPFROG HERE! (WHO I LOVE!)
BLACK FRIDAY / CYBER MONDAY DEALS, STARTING 10 PM PST TONIGHT! ·         25% to 75% off sitewide

·         Select Leapster games as low as $5

·         Select Tag Books as low as $5

·         Up to 75% off on our gift packs

·         Spend $50, get free shipping

·         Black Friday Bonus, Spend $100, get $10 off

 

Gobble gobble!
 
 
Before I start this post, let me begin my saying how grateful I am for a paycheck. Between my Good Housekeeping gig, some animated cards I recently sold to JibJab (they aren't up yet) and my current part-time job, I have more than so many do. I am beyond thrilled to live in a country where my big mouth... ahem... freedom of speech... is allowing me to balance both motherhood and a career I love.

That all said, I'm curious what ya'll do with your paychecks. Does it all go toward paying the bills? Do you budget some for your hair and nails? Does it go toward education for the kids or vacations?

I ask because for years I had let my beauty regime go. I have thrift stored my kids' clothes (and still will... I love it.) But... but... now that I'm finally earning a salary again, it doesn't seem like that much more will go to me. Not if I want to get some extra classes for the kids, or some acupuncture for Stink. Not if I want to finally fix those blinds in the bathroom or tile in the kitchen. Not if I want to pay off some expenses incurred from purchasing a cabin a few months back.

My final comment is that I know everyone should have my problems. As someone wrote on my Good Housekeeping site, "Oh, it must be so hard for you to have a second home when so many don't have one."

Okay. Should I feel guilty for being born to a family who gave me love, an education and a bit of tenacity to use my skills for pay? Should I flog myself for marrying a man who makes an okay living?

I'm feeling this odd shift in the times. For so long (and many can attest to knowing me "back then" ) I was a housewife with a teeny blog and two small babies. I literally had to budget in my snack food. I have a bit more now, but I know it's by (don't kill me non-Christian readers) the grace of God that I'm able to parlay my chatty soul into jobs. But do I need to justify myself to those who aren't as fortunate?

Or, like Oprah always says, "I came from the projects. I don't feel guilty at all."

Um... that doesn't help me. The only projects I come from are mounds of Ebay clothes that used to line my floors, earning me a few hundred dollars each month.

I don't know, people. But I do know that I am grateful, thankful, and plan on tithing some cash to those in need. What else can I do? What do you do? And if you're not doing what you love, how can I help? Let's talk, people.

More of my writing can be found at Goodhousekeeping.


 
 
I completed Day 1 of the part time job. The good news:

* I'm LOVING it
* Rex has really stepped up to the plate. He picked up the kids from school, did homework, dinner, bedtime, the whole nine-yards. He is willing to do this 3 days/week so that I can clock in my 24 hours and be home 2 days/week.

The bad news:

* It's going to take me an hour to get home on those three nights of work
* Staring at a computer for 8 hours straight is going to make my mind melt more than my heart at a Salvation Army 50% off sale
* Coming home when my kids are already in bed? Ditto the extra heart break

And so, I'm now going to work 5 days/week. Rex will get the kids Monday only. I'll be home at 5:30 those days for dinner and the bedtime routine. The other 4 days I'll work while the kids are at school, allowing me to pick them up. They won't even know I was missing, despite having a look of permanent sleep deprivation. (Oh well, the extra cash will go to botox pick-me-ups. Kidding. Kind of. Shit - I'm almost 40! How did that happen? Moving on.)

The 5 day work week - despite nice hours - is not ideal, as I was hoping for a little more down time for me.

On the flip side, seeing my kids' down turned faces as I rush to kiss them good night is worse.

It's a tough thing - this working mom deal. While I need to do what is best for me (hello extra cash, stimulation, some adult interaction) my kids are only young once.

And so, while I am fortunate enough to not have to work full time, I'm going to enjoy my problem. So many mothers don't have that option.

What about you? What are your thoughts on work? What is best for you? Do you miss it?

In closing, I've decided to get back into writing what I love the most: parenting topics. At some point I'm going to start the anti-Parent Center blog where we'll have our own little Momformation, but it'll be a bit more real and no one can fire me. Stay tuned.

* You can also find me at Good Housekeeping where I write about sex and marriage 3 days/week.
 
 
After being let go by BabyCenter six months ago, and with my kids now in school full time, I'd been feeling a bit antsy.

Yes, I know I don't have to be busy 24 hours/day, but staying stimulated is how I roll.

I made a list of my dream job:

* Writing in an office
* Working part time
* Decent salary to make the wear and tear on my car, as well as my personal life, worth it
* Being a mom to my kids, but being true to me while they are at school

Two weeks later I landed a fabulous job working as a blogger at DeiWorldwide.com

As I type this, music is pounding over the speakers. There's a long line of young advertisers engaging audiences through Facebook, Twitter and Aol. There's a window behind me looking out over a bustling street with trees waving in the Fall wind.

As for me, I'll be writing content for a big brand (name to come) and engaging the audiences I have built over the past five years here, at Baby Center, Good Housekeeping and new folk throughout the web.

What I like about this company is that they want me to fully disclose who I am and what I'm doing on the blogs. Ex: If I'm on Facebook talking about sugar for their client, I'll be "Andrea @ DEIWorldwide" (or whatever my final screen name is.)

The great news for you all is that I'll be able to promote your blogs through this new venue, helping you gain traffic, some holiday cash through your advertising, etc. There's talk of handing out gift cards to my favorite bloggers (ahem.... you know who you are) to make your holiday shopping a little bit easier. Your only job is to write a post  about what you did with the money, as well as dropping a weblink back to the client. (Again, client to be revealed later. No, it's not porn or Pottery Barn. Other than that,

Some of you might not be interested in doing this at all. Totally fine - Pass the Zoloft will still be about my life, my kids, etc. But since a huge part of me has always loved to work, expect some posts about that sprinkled in.

I owe so many of you a look, and I'll do so this week.

Hope you had a great Halloween!
 
 
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Heather Armstrong of Dooce has made a fortune off her mommy blog. She's been able to buy a gazillion dollar mansion in Utah. Her husband was able to quit his day job and run her site full time, earning her more cash.

I say good for her. She found a niche with her flawless writing and spot-on takes on motherhood.

The one thing that drives me batty about her site, however, is how she half hides a photo, forcing readers to click on it to see the full picture. I am guessing that with each click comes added traffic which means added cha ching. (If I'm wrong, and Heather is reading, please let me know. It would help if you clicked on one of my Google ads while you're at it so I could make an additional 2 cents. The photo of the man's booty on top was taken by Stink in Vegas last year and is provided free of service for all to enjoy.)

Again, hooray for her to consistently get voyeurs like moi to pay her mortgage (or fly out her cousins to her grandmother's funeral.... she is always very gracious to her readers) but... BUT... the clicks. So... annoying.

Rather than complain anymore, however, I've decided to follow suit. Only I'm taking it a step further. Instead of clicking on my website pictures, I'm going to have Rex, my computer guru, install a human click in my actual body. I will be in real time, which means instant gratification for Dooce whores (such as myself) and all humanity.

If you were here right now, you could click on my belly. Voila: Gluten free spaghetti would waft out!

Click on my breasts and here the sound effects: TIRED.... SAGGING... TWO KIDS, BAD SPORTS BRA.

Click on my booty and hear: FAT ASS - GET OFF THE COMPUTER AND JOG.

And so I shall.

Right after I click on my coffee pot. Nothing says running in real time like a Yuban high.

Happy Monday all!
 
 
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...This pic must have a story but I have no clue what it is. A friend took it at my son's kindergarten graduation last year and just emailed it to me.

Here are a few thoughts off the top of my head:

1. What? You just won a life time's supply of Yuban? No waaaay!

2. Yes, this is a horrible haircut. Hey, you had the bad Betty Paige, too?

3. Stink, stop licking the ABC floor mat!

4. What do you mean my kids are old enough to attend full day grade school?

5. I write a sex column? For real?

6. I'm going to become friends with Christian homeschoolers, my ex-gay boyfriend, and my entire graduating highschool class through the internet and Facebook.

7. Wow, purchasing a cabin costs how much in incidental blankets, quilts, pillows, heater filters, paint, silicone, roof tar, pool tables, moving companies and vintage embroidered snow scenes bought on sale for $15.00 at Out of the Closet? (That last item? Totally incidental. Like my ex-boyfriend, I just love the stuff I find Out of the Closet.)

8. I haven't posted in how many days?

9. It's what time right now?

10. Rex wants what tonight?

If anyone else would like to add to the list, feel free.

Meanwhile, I owe many of your sites a look-see. I hope all of you are well. If you don't hear from me, it's just I'm working three jobs to pay for my cabin, as well as therapy for my children who have been avoided for a whole year while I pay off my Discover Card and get a better hair-do.