Mamma's, let's talk...

Please know, I thought long and hard about how to bring this up without being cruel or unfair. We all have our personal tastes and styles and I'm a proponent of live and let live, until you and your behaviorally challenged children annoy me in the grocery store, aisle after aisle. So, if you don't like this post, chaulk it up to you and I agreeing to disagree. Sorry in advance for any offense that may occur.


Names like Nevaeh, Destiny, and Kiearah, and Brianna, Braden, Tyler, Taylor, Caden, Connor, Preston, Paxton, Peyton, and Jayden - are beyond trendy but they're horrible names on top of that.

Some of the problem is the way they are prounounced...
"BREEEEEAAAAAHHHHNNNAAA!" in a nasally whine...
OH GOD! SCRATCH MY EYES OUT!

I grew up with a fairly traditional but at the time very trendy name (Jessica) and it drove me nuts. By the time I was in 4th grade there were about 30 Jessica's in my elementary school. The rest were named Jennifer, Lisa, Michelle or Amy. All of us hated it! To add insult to injury - we all had the same two middle names: Marie or Ann.

I know that not everyone wants a traditional name, or they're going for something unique but lift your head out of the sand. These names are so overused right now - Are you intentionally naming your kids after Britney's?

I do have a list of names that I find fundamentally acceptable, and in some cases I really like them, but I cannot believe the amount of overuse they get right now:

Addison

Grace

Lily

Emma

Emily

Hannah

Rose - more as a middle name

Olivia

Ava

Reece (girl or boy)

Savannah

Tristan

Connor

Brody

Brady

Abby

Violet

Jack and Jackson and Jaxon and Jax'n

Maggie

Madison

Tyler

Taylor

And you thankfully never hear these anymore - I can't imagine naming a little baby any of these names, even knowing they won't be a baby forever.

Judy

Ruth

Barbara

Linda

Carol

Ethel

Gladys

Harold

Cathy (Not Catherine, Cathleen, etc. - just Cathy)

Alice

Nancy

Willard

Fred

Clarence

Lawrence, and any form of it

Walter

Albert

Arthur


My advice on avoiding ridicule or regret while naming your child:
1. Open the baby names book and really read it!

2. Research your family lineage and find something solid and timeless, even unusual.

3. Consider how the child will feel about the name at age 15, 20, 25, and 40!
and

4. When you hear a name you love while pregnant, buy it off the person who is "claiming" it. I bartered with a bad-ass NorthFace jacket for my daughter's name AND now my sister feels like she had a huge part in naming her - Win/Win!

I really like the name Harriet (sort of old school but cute and unusual) but I could not name a girl Harriet Hatcher! I also really liked Piper with middle name Jane - I mostly liked that it would become nickname initials of PJ like my sister BJ (for Bonnie Jean) but I am grateful we didn't use that. I loved Jack Robert (JR for short) but I wouldn't have been able to stomach how many Jax, Jack, Jackson, Jaxons there are now.

Do you think anyone is going to take President Nevaeh or President Jayden seriously in about 40 years?

So, tell me your baby names and why you chose them....
Also, since I've opened this can of worms, it's only fair to let you openly criticize my children's names. In case you haven't caught them in previous posts, they are first and middle:

William Anderson
Georgia Cate








O

MY kind of motivational speaker!

"Life is short! Enjoy it while you got it! Can't be gottdamn ungrateful all the time!"

Katt Williams opened his latest comedy set, "It's Pimpin' Pimpin'!", recorded in May 2008 in Washington D. C. with that quote. I want to steal that rhyme and shout it to the world, and specifically tattoo it on the inner eyelids of a few people I know. That quote is the perfect set-up for the following show.

I make a point to tune in for all his shows because I think he is relevant, incredibly funny, insightful, and fantastically secure and confident for having such an odd stature and a fucked up head of hair.

His motto for this latest show is "You gotta take care of your star playa" (meaning yourself) and his point was the obvious "If you don't take care of yourself, who will?" but moreover, his point was "...what good can you do in the world or for others if you can't take care of your own sorry ass..." I love how he preaches about self-esteem and fairness (including race and crime and being famous and being poor/underprivileged). He preaches not to sweat the haters because the hater is the joke. He preaches to just fucking get over shit and move on in life.
His outlook is always positive, and that is my kind of talk.

He is not afraid to be corny. He is terribly mouthy but so humble, peaceful, and just fucking cool. I would love it if someone thought all of that about me. Is it weird that I aspire to be like Katt Williams, sans gun toting charges? Ok, maybe a mixture of Katt Williams and Bill Cosby. Why do I want to be a middle aged black man?

It's good to be here.

I am glad...

...the unusual freeze is over and normal Tennessee winter weather is back.

...to have a toddler/pre-schooler free weekend.

...to have had a few responses on jobs I'm pursuing.

...I'm having a FREE facial tomorrow.

...I have a warm house, nourishing food, and healthy, mad-funny children.

...to have a sweet new baby nephew and another sweet not-so-newborn baby nephew.

...to have mapped out a diverse 5k running trail!

...to spend this evening with my friends.

...have a sister I love and miss so much.

...the sister I love and miss so much is so in love with a guy who is so in love with her.

...to have goals and aspirations!

...to let Wil think he's eating a "teeny, tiny s'getti sandwich" if he so pleases.

...to be the person Justin misses and looks forward to coming home to.

...to have such a kick-ass public library.

...to have a trip to Mexico on the distant horizon.

...to be here, breathing in and out, everday.









O

Superpowers

Sometimes, I can just look at someone and KNOW their breath is awful.







O

Three mortifying days with a three year old heathen!

He is too smart for his own damn good. Wil has said/done the following things over the past three days. I always thought when I heard similar stories that someone had coached the child into the precocious thing he said or did but I know otherwise now.

On Saturday we were hanging out with my Grandparents, letting them spend time with the kids since we only see them a few times a year. My dad (Wil calls him Papa) was laying on the floor playing airplane with both kids. Wil was standing with his back to Papa playing with something on the table and Papa kept nipping Wil in the butt. Wil said "Stop it, Papa!" and my dad played coy, "What? I didn't do anything..." and Wil turned to keep playing. Papa did it again and played coy again - and Wil said "You're poking me in the ASS!" The killer was that he did not say it in a fresh mouth way, he was just using a word. He was annoyed with Papa, had no idea he even said a bad word! My jaw dropped and I stared at my grandmother who sorta laughed. Only in front of the Great Grandparents, right?!

On Sunday I was peeing while Wil was running around upstairs and he caught a glimpse of me finishing up on the pot. He said, "Mumma, do you pee out your butt?" I was honest but clinical as I explained that girls have vaginas and boys have penises. I verbally ran through an explanation where I matched his equipment up with Justin and Georgia's up with mine to give him a concept of the differences between boys and girls. He said "No, Mumma! Georgia has a penis too!"

On Monday Wil, Georgia and I were having breakfast (amazing scratch pancakes by Josh Jones) with Josh and Beej. We were seated around the dining room table in our pajamas and just chatting away. It was the one time during our visit to Nashville that Beej wasn't visible only from the eyes up (behind her laptop) and I wasn't chasing a wild ass kid around the house like a maniac - the first real quality time we'd all spent together. Wil stands up in his chair and says "Hey Uncle Josh, I have a big penis! See?" and pulls his thermal pants down and thrusts his hips forward. OH MY GOD!

How does Wil at age 3 even know that "big" is a preferred term with penis? Nobody talks to him about that stuff? He doesn't watch that kind of TV?

Beej LOST HER SHIT and laughed so hard she was snorting and hooting and heaving and crying. I snatched Wil up and took him into the bathroom, sat him down, and looked him in the eyes (trying so hard not to smile or laugh) and said "That was totally inappropriate behavior! You cannot show people your Penis at the breakfast table or anywhere else! It's private! You cannot do that..." and blah, blah, blah. He didn't miss a beat... He said "But Auntie BJ is laughing..." as if that made it okay. Hell, I was laughing! It was an impossible situation. Before we left the bathroom, I made him wash his hands.






O

Suck it, Angelina Jolie!

I am disgusted by the elitism of Hollywood!


First of all, I wasn't even sure I believed that David Duchovny was ACTUALLY suffering from sex addiction when it made headlines that he checked into rehab last summer. I suspected it was a marketing strategy for Californication as opposed to a being side-affect of starring in that show. I was quite sure that in about 20 years he would reveal this little secret as being PR rather than a genuine personal problem. Why else would Tea Leone stand by, steadfast?


Secondly, what the fuck do I care what he does in his personal life? I sort of hate how the rehab affairs of celebrities are so public. It's literally the equivalent of rubber necking so you can see the gory details of a horrible car crash and then complaining how awful it was to see. That is a human life! He is a human being! It's rather indecent that there is a demand for this type of news, but clearly there is profit in this genre of information.


Third, who the F is Hollywood to snub him at the recent Golden Globe awards and look down on him "sadly"? It makes me like him or want to root for him even more!

Screw you Hollywood! All of you a-holes just need to jump on the indignant bandwagon already and quit acting! It's not as if any of you are saving the world either! Oh sorry! Except for you, Angelina! I forgot that you are Mother Theresa for the millenium. Please note, reader, I am being SO sarcastic, I can't stand Angelina - somebody needs to tell her that you can't buy grace, or dignity, not even in a third-world country.





O

Waiting in the bushes with my camera...

Justin is forever stealing lip balm from me. I normally use Burt's Bees or Neutrogena. I buy them in bulk because I am fairly addicted. It's a state of emergency if I can't get my hands on a stick. My lips start emitting actual flames and peeling in layers. I get coconuts about it even if I just applied some 5 minutes ago. To avoid this mess, I always keep a few tubes stashed in my purse and at least four others in various strategic areas of my house/desk/car.

Every Christmas, I get Justin a few of his own masculine tubes from Bath and Body Works and I warn him that at $7.50 per tube he better keep up with them like he does his wallet/cell phone, but he never does. Throughout the year, I buy him Carmex or some dude version of Blistex to keep him in stock. These lip balms are left untouched, on his dresser until they roll off the dresser into the worm hole underneath it. When we move, I expect to find a stash that I can re-gift in his Christmas stocking for years to come. It's something psychological... It's the same thing as Georgia preferring the food on my plate to the food on her plate even though it's the VERY SAME FUCKING FOOD!!

Invariably, I find MY precious tubes in odd places and when I uncap them to get a hit (upon sight of any lip balm, even in a movie, I immediately need some), the balm is mangled and mushy. It is actually dirty in the crease where the cap snaps on. It's as if he chewed on it for a minute, rubbed it on some sandpaper, and then rolled it through a dirty ashtray before leaving it for dead. I call them dead soldiers. IT REALLY PISSES ME OFF! It is wasteful and disgusting! Why are boys so damn gross!?

Burt's Bees makes a Shimmer Stick in some cute, very pale colors. I am resolving to use nothing but this brand/style because not only is it good stuff, and Justin will avoid it, but most especially because I KNOW the day will come when Justin's lips are burning off his face and he is so desperate for something that he'll use it! I'll be waiting in the bushes with my camera!

AHAHAHAHAAAAA!







O

Bad AND Funny Parenting...

Since he turned 18 months old, Wil has been trying to give up his naps. We continued to push back and at least put him in his crib for quiet time if not actual sleep. Every month he got a little more wakeful and stubborn about not sleeping. On the days when I was lucky enough to trick him into sleep during naptime, he would lie in bed wide awake until 10 or 11pm, after being put to bed at 9pm.

I have to say that he normally sleeps a solid 12 hours at night, and doesn't wake until 8 or 8:30 am. Most of his classmates arrive at school by 7am, and many of them have been up for an hour at that point.

Contrary to popular belief in my family, I did NOT give up his naps easily. I tried everything! I really needed his naptime with a newborn baby around. I only finally gave it up once I realized I was spending a huge amount of my day (often 2 hours) fighting with a 2 year old who thought it was a very funny game to run out of his room, right into my waiting arms, only to have me put him right back in there - not matter how emotionless I tried to be. Often, he was more amped up from running and struggling with me after 30 minutes of naptime than he was when we went into his room. I blacked out his room in the most mortifying method: I taped a navy blue shower curtain liner to the glass of his windows, under a layer of plantation blinds which are covered by a double layer curtains. Oh, our neighbors totally love us for that one! I tried soothing stories, rocking him, and even lying down with him (although I firmly hated that one).

At times when I did get him to lie still in his bed, I would wait outside the door for labored breathing sounds and stillness. More than once I waited through complete stillness for 2 chapters of a book (at least 20 mins) and fully expected to celebrate my victory and when I'd peek in, DAMN if his eyes weren't open and now he saw me and the games begin again! I spent more time frustrated with Wil last summer than not, and the whole thing felt AWFUL.

Finally, I took the power away from him and stopped trying. If we didn't have a naptime to fight about, we could enjoy eachother more. I'm not sure he ever noticed it missing, other than both our moods improving. It also meant I put him to bed at least an hour earlier which was minor victory for me being a human being, not just a mom.

When he started pre-school I winced when I learned that by state law, the kids have to lie down (not necessarily sleep, but lie down) for a certain period each day. I figured he'd learn by watching the other kids. At first, he did okay but he slowly decended into no naps and playing the same games with his poor teachers. After many talks with the teachers, I was afraid he'd be asked to leave. One of the things the pre-school asked us to try was send notes in his lunchbox each day encouraging a nap. Justin and I take turns writing them, and sometimes I'll recruit Nana to do one just to keep it fresh for him.

Justin handed me the following note as I was packing Wil's lunchbox. I always feel a little intrusive if I read it, it seems private, but that is silly since the teachers have to read it to Wil. When I read it, I died laughing.

Clearly, it was a joke and Justin wrote another one for the lunchbox but we did post it on the refrigerator for amusement. Thankfully, Wil cannot read many words other than his name right now! I will put this is his baby book for his adult sense of humor!

PS: After the Christmas break, we started waking him up at 6 or 6:30am and putting him in our bed with the TV on PBS while we sleep for another hour or so. It works like a charm - he's totally taking naps at school now. SUCKER!




O

You think you know, but really you have no idea...

My best friend Amy and I have decided. The Office simply cannot be as funny for people who do not work in an actual office. Sure, we all identify and it's sortof funny even if you don't work in an office.

When you do work in an actual office, it's a 100% effective show. You nearly jump out of your skin it's so funny. It's all in the understated nuances and details that they portray so perfectly. You're missing so much unless you know these cues from working in an office.

I wanna be cool, tall, vulnerable, and luscious...

Kanye West's newest album 808s & Heartbreak is a crushing disappointment. It is SO reminiscent of the feelings I felt when taking in Liz Phair's 2005 album Somebody's Miracle.

I actually felt betrayed, maybe not by Liz or Kanye, but definitely by my senses. I felt my iPod's heart shudder with every new song during my initial listen. I always give an album from old faithfuls like these a fair number of passes before I really decide, but I think I already know.

In both cases, how do you put out consistently good and distinctively different albums for years on end, and then suddenly eek out a stubborn, cold, unyielding nugget of suck that no mother could love?

With Somebody's Miracle, I really, really tried to like it. I have LOVED every Liz Phair album prior to that and they all ranged in style - most distinctively 2003's self titled album where she got all shiny and mainstream. It was a bit Top40, but if you dismissed it for it's lack of indie integrity - you missed an amazing album, and seriously - get over yourself. We all have our fair share of embarrassing skeletons in our play lists (AHEM! Lionel Richie, anyone - Beej, anyone?!).

Incredibly, it took my local radio stations about a MONTH to realize she was saying FUCK in the song: "We haven't fucked yet but my head's spinning! Why can't I breathe..."

And hey, at least they're both brave enough to experiment. Most indie musicians or specialty artists could never sustainably bridge two markets (pop/country excluded but speaking of canned payola... oh never mind, I can feel the vomit rising).

Liz, you especially! I am still waiting for your recovery album. I have every confidence that it's coming, with others to follow. In your case, I think every blind squirrel finds a poison nut now and then. Let's hope...

Kanye, our relationship has less history than Liz and I. I find myself unconvinced but hopeful. I feel like you may deserve a pass after the freaky year you've had BUT... you remind me alot of a guy I know who continually uses every bad thing that happens to him as evidence that he is so much MORE of a tortured soul than anyone else on earth. His pain is worse than anyone else. His results are the highest anyone's ever seen. His outcomes are the most outrageous, it's indescribable. He cannot imagine that anyone can be as deep and as insightful as him. He imagines himself as being so isolated, so superior. HE IS EXHAUSTING. So, Kanye, go a little crazy, the year you've had warrants it - but then let it go OR move forward. Do not let this year further serve your sense of entitlement. You are not THAT talented, nobody is.




O

Where you'll find me...

1. I love to decorate but I have committment issues and no budget dedicated to it so there are no curtains in any room in my house other than the kids' room. I do have white plantation blinds on every window.

2. I wish people still made mix discs like they used to make mix tapes back in the day. When was the last time you got a really good mix disc out of the blue and you actually giggled with anticipation waiting for the next track to begin?

3. If I was famous, I'd want to be like Gwen Stefani.

4. I fall more in love with Justin every day.

5. I love the F word and Diet Coke almost equally. I use the F word gratuitously despite how vulgar it probably is. I drink enough Diet Coke to feel like I need to quit. I have quit before and I will again. I really just love love them both, they're like old friends.

6. It's funny how friends, times, life shifts so continuously that these braids are made and sometimes you're the outside band and sometimes you're on the inside band. I love that I can truthfully say that I still count the same friends I had beside me when I was 15 as currently present although the degrees of presence are always fluctuating.

7. I like to believe that I am super-flexible and laid back but I suspect that I do not love change as much as I wish I did and I'm high strung (in all the right ways!).

8. I am pissed that Victorias Secret no longer carries laundry detergent. WHAT THE FUCK!?




O

Doing The Unstuck

I haven't been truly depressed since I was about 21. It started when I was about 19 and lasted about 18 months. I got help. I even took meds until it passed. My parents were super supportive. My friends stuck by me. Most days, I can barely remember it. I do remember it full force on days where depression threatens to darken my doorway again, but thankfully, those times are far and few between (maybe 2 or 3 days per year). It happens so rarely because following that depression, I learned alot about myself and what my triggers for depression are and smart ways for me to avoid them. Depression runs deep in my family so I constantly take proactive steps to stay ahead of that lurking shadow. I truly believe that decisions I make including the attitude I adopt about any given situation has more control over my brain than my family history does.

I dipped pretty low after Georgia was born and it FREAKED me out. It was such a huge contrast to how much joy I felt after Wil was born. The guilt of that contrast made me feel even more depressed. I mean, I'd just had a beautiful little girl and I could barely speak without hissing through gritted teeth. After I had Wil, my cheek muscles ached for MONTHS from the euphoric smiling. People probably thought I was high and I felt alot like I was. I was just so damn happy. Justin and I couldn't even wait the 4 weeks until my OBGYN gave us the green light... eeww! I know!

I knew it was not "normal" for me to feel that good all the damn time. We all wondered if motherhood just really agreed with me and maybe I'd found my purpose in life, and how damn ironic that it was motherhood. I truly enjoyed every moment of it.

That euphoria lasted until the morning sickness of Georgia's pregnancy set in - and after that passed, I felt my normal speed again. Not euphoric, but certainly not depressed. I was happy to be pregnant again, knowing it was probably the last time for us. I was relieved in alot of ways to be feeling normal again. Shiny-happy-Jessee was probably obnoxious.

I felt normal again, I was stressed at times, but no more so than during the pregnancy with Wil. I felt "normal" until about two weeks after I got home from the hospital with Georgia when things got dark. I never felt like a danger to myself or others, but I felt almost every other symptom underneath that on the post-partum depression warning poster. I could NOT stop crying.

When it was obvious that I wasn't snapping out of it, my mom, my sister, and my husband insisted that I go speak to someone. I just didn't want to. I totally support seeing a therapist and even taking meds when necessary, but I just didn't want to TALK. So instead of being verbal, I started exercising my head off!

If you know me, my choice to replace words with exercise was probably even more evidence that I was entirely off my rocker. I am active in general - there are times when I really embrace exercise in my life but I always fucking resent it. It pisses me off. Exercise and I remain respectful enemies. I know I need it, but I hate it the whole time. At one point, Amy and I used to take turns running to the stove to stir the cooking pasta between Tae Bo kicks and punches - so as not to delay dinner. But we totally took the Tae Bo seriously though. We (ok I) cut out photos of celebs from magazines and taped them up all around the living room as focal points for the punching and kicking spots.

I hadn't exercised with any regularity since before my pregnancy with Wil two years prior. Regardless, I decided I would try exercise before therapy. So - every day, I brought the kids to my Mom's and my Nike Free 5.0's (best running shoes in history), my iPod, and I really wrestled the demons out of me. It worked.

Week one: Strictly blind faith or fury - auto pilot
Week two: Noticeably better
Week three: I recognized myself again and laughed
Week four: I felt my version of "normal" again.


It felt really powerful to know I had the power to help myself like that. I've never identified with bulemia or anorexia being a way to control your environment but this exercise-to-fight-depression made it clearer to me. I was proud of myself for trying something else first when in my family, it seems that medicating (self or otherwise) seems to be the preferred method of dealing with emotional issues.

Whenever I think of that time after Georgia's birth AND/OR the time I was so depressed between 19 and 21, a song literally floods my brain... It's called Doing The Unstuck by The Cure:

kick out the gloom
kick out the blues
tear out the pages with all the bad news
pull down the mirrors and pull down the wall
stear up the stairs and tear up the floors
oh just burn down the house!
burn down the street!
turn everything red and the beat is complete
with the sound of your world going up in fire
it's a perfect day to throw back your head
and kiss it all goodbye

I am singing this song today...



O