All Full Up

It's time to pack it in, round up the cattle, er I mean, kids and head for home. I've had my fill of hot, tasty clam cakes. Ooh that salty, clamtastic goodness. Many photos have been taken of old seaside scenes and the oldest carousel has been ridden. I saw old friends, slept past nine, watched way too much VH-1 than can be healthy for my brain cells and had a whole bed to myself for a week.

I've eaten too much once again, gotten a bit side-tracked in my 5K training and I'm starting to get a bit freaked out that the race is in a mere six days. Today we return to the turnpike and brave the roads. Let's hope "the crazies" have decided to stay home.

I have no intention of believing that the trip home will be as easy as the trip up.

BONUS!!!!!!!!!!!!! COUPONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

23andMe COUPON- It is good for $50 off one DNA testing kit, the code expires Tuesday, June 16, 2009 at midnight (EST) and is only good for the first 10 people who use it in the 23andMe. The Code is: VCHGWG

Win a Free 23andMe DNA Kit!

Newsflash! An amazing giveaway is at your fingertips. First, a bit of business.

The various online communities that have been growing at the 23andMe website the last few months are anything but dull. I have had the privilege of having my whole family’s genetic information at my fingertips and I cannot believe how it never ceases to amaze me. As a founding blogger hired by 23andMe for their pregnancy community I feel like I fell down the rabbit’s hole of ancestral information and my own personal genetic history. It has made me reflect on my past two pregnancies in-depth and communicate with others. One thing is abundantly clear, no matter how similar we may seem on the outside with our experiences and relations we are all unique due to our environment and genetic make-up. It has truly been a gift working with the whole 23andMe group as well as all the talented bloggers. The information this test provides is priceless.

Now the big news- I am giving away a FREE DNA testing kit from 23andMe to one of my readers. It is a $399 value and it will give you access to detailed information regarding your health and traits complete with clinical research reports as well as your ancestral background. Who doesn’t want to know what haplogroup they come from?

To enter simply leave a comment on this post answering one of the following questions:

“Are there questions you have about your family history that genotyping would help you figure out?”

“Are you like me, someone who wanted to do the test so badly because there is a particular illness, trait or condition that plagues your family? The DNA test could help you find out if you are predisposed or not.” Let me know in the comments!

“Are you adopted and have a desire to know more about your background?”

I will choose one winner at random. All entries must be in by June 13, 12 PM EST. The winner can choose to use the service for them, or pass the kit on to a friend or family member. The contest is open to legal residents of the USA, ages 18 or older and the winner is responsible for any applicable taxes. Here’s a link to the official rules.

Remember: I cannot pick you as a winner if you do not leave a contact email in your comment. Good luck!


*Disclosure: I have been working as a contractor for 23andMe for the last few months. I received my genotyping kit free and have been paid to blog at 23andMe.


CONGRATULATIONS to n2myown02@yahoo.com for winning the 23andMe DNA Test kit!!

About an Hour in My Day

11:38 a.m.- "Come on TD, we have to get a move on! It's time to go to Gymboree!"
I glance at The Comedian and think, "I should change you...." and I scoop her up out of the Bumbo.

11:39 a.m.- "WTF? Oh all that is holy in this world, why now?! Seriously kid? This is disgusting!!" I moan. "What's disgusting, Mommy?" TD asks. "Your sister. She just pooped EVERYWHERE! I don't even know if I'm qualified to clean this type of mess up. I might need to make a few phone calls..."

11:41 a.m.- Poop. It is everywhere. I quickly move from the pack and play to the nursery. The shirt cannot be salvaged. Neither can the burp cloth I have laying on the changing table. I have already used about a days worth of wipes in the last two minutes. We don't have time for the tub. This is totally an unprecedented situation though. I have to pull The Comedian's arms out of her shirt and slide it down her body or else we'll have a poop in hair situation on our hands. There is now poop on the wall. The changing table is a bio-hazard area and I cannot seem to contain it.

11:50 a.m.- I have now tossed everything on the changing table- diaper, wipes, one entire outfit, a washcloth and two burp cloths into the trusted Diaper Genie. The Comedian has been washed, dried, lotioned back to sweet smelling baby status and is in a clean, poop-free outfit. At last. I scoop her up and walk to the bathroom to wash my hands. It is there that I see the most disgusting thing of all. There in not one but two spots on my pristine white shirt is poop. I HAVE POOP ON ME. "What if I had forgotten to wash my hands?" My brain screams. The answer: I would have walked into our first day at Gymboree as the Mom who didn't even notice she had fecal matter smeared on her shirt. Any future friends to be made there would have instantly disappeared. The poop would have stayed.

I dash upstairs and grab a shirt out of the clean laundry and very carefully take the offending shirt off and toss it into the laundry monster mess. I dash downstairs and like a POW camp leader order everyone into the car MOW! (Yes, I mean mow.)

12:06 p.m.- We are all buckled into the car and are on our way to Gymboree's 12:15 class.

12:10 p.m.- "Hey! Watch it! " I yell at a driver who swerved into my lane. I have to slam on my brakes and beep the horn as I simultaneously swerve almost entirely up onto a median to avoid this broad who has no knowledge of my giant SUV being next to her tiny two door. Grr... Inhale. Exhale.

12:15 p.m.- We made it! We make the long haul to Gymboree which is on the second floor of an office park. Really, Gymboree? The second floor? How thoughtful. The Comedian is not getting any lighter in her baby carrier and I will not scoop her out of it and wake her. This is her sister's time. Not hers.

12:45 p.m.- TD has had a tour, talked with some kids and I've gotten the gist from some Moms as well as some glowing reviews for Bubble Camp which TD starts on Monday. Praise the Gymboree geniuses who thought up that idea. $35 every Monday gets TD a full day of music, food, kid time, art classes and more. A FULL day. I am ecstatic for her and for me.

12:50 p.m.- Back in the car and driving to the post office across the street I have to slam on my breaks to avoid being hit by the beater car that has whipped around the corner. For reals people. I yell, "Watch it! You stupid a**hole!" To which TD replies, "Mommy! You shouldn't call people stupid a**holes. That's not very nice." Her pronunciation of key words is spot on. "I'm sorry TD. You are right. Mommy should not call people names and should not say the word a**hole. That is not nice. Thank you." "It's OK, Mommy. Just don't say a**hole anymore."

On the drive home a thought crossed my mind. "Hm... I never did check the Bumbo for poop...."

Later that day H informed me that he never needs to know about these horrific poop situations. I kindly informed him that indeed he does need to know. He absolutely needs to know.




Fun, Frugal Father's Day guide on Mummy's Product Reviews. Check it out!

It's also my final post on 23andMe. Sniff..sniff... I blog about my parents and I taking the test together in, A Family Affair, Read more....

Splish Splash I Hate the Pool

I'm just going to admit this up front- I hate the pool.

My husband? He seems to love the pool. I've actually begun to dread this time of year as of late because I know it means only one thing. He is going to want to go to the pool.

Do I hate the pool because it means I have to get into a bathing suit? No.

Do I hate the pool because of the tons of screaming children and loud cannon balling teenagers? A bit.

Do I hate the pool because the women's locker/rest room is a stinkin' hive of germs and wet toilet paper on the floor but never on the roll where it belongs and out of the three toilets usually only one is flushed? That one? It usually has a brown mucky poop-laced water on the floor around it. YES! YES! I hate the pool for that reason. I feel like TD and I need a round of shots kin to going to a Third World country just to take a piss. I can't help but wonder if the men's room is cleaner because a majority of kids and Mom's don't frequent it.

Also? I love the idea of the pool. I love sitting in the sun, reading a good book or magazine and just lounging. However, with two tiny wonders to entertain it often requires a steamer trunk of gear plus snacks and constantly being vigilant. Oh and getting in the water. Brr... Me no likey.

And let's face it. My sun worshipping days are over now that I've had two skin cancer debacles under my belt. Now I have to be content to slather on the high SPF and cover myself up. I loathe.

But I go because in some way it is relaxing, minus the poop water bathroom. It's free, family fun and it makes H and the kids happy. The saying may be, "if Momma ain't happy..." but it also applies to Dad's as well.


I've been busy-

I get all sappy at DCMM, 'Learning to Cherish the Small Stuff."
I talk about hitting my mid-30's at Honest Baby, 'You are in your mid-30's if...'
At 23andMe I'm talking about my 'Jimmy Leg's- "Throughout both my pregnancies I suffered from a case of the ‘Jimmy legs’ also known as Restless Leg syndrome (RLS)." Read more...

Hungry, Broke and Ludacris

You hear a song on the radio, in the car, in a store, or on your ipod and suddenly you are taken back to a distinct time and place. You are no longer standing in frozen foods but in a darkened high school gym or in your bestest friends bedroom. The song/memory evocation is so strong it can bring up deep feelings, distinct smells and completely take you back in time, if only for a few moments. This week, in the days leading up to my birthday (and let's face it, because it's my blog) I'm doing a little trek down memory lane each time it will be accompanied with a song that brings it all back.

I would love it if you would share with me some memories you have and the songs that take you back too.

I had been married to H for about a year and we were living in what felt like the land of the lost, also known as the Mojave desert. Or as E liked to call it, 'my sandbox'. Having recently moved to SoCal herself we found that for the first time in many years we were only a few hours apart and could visit each other quite easily. For me, it was bliss. I had spent several years apart from my best friend between going to separate schools, traveling abroad and moving across the country. Now, living in the middle of nowhere, I needed her more than ever. We spent many weekends that year getting reacquainted over midnight drive-thrus to Jack in the Box for mozzarella sticks and drinking cheap wine.

One particular weekend I drove down to E's place in San Diego and we quickly realized that we were both flat broke. I'm talking mere pennies in the wallet broke. Having just moved across the country and me having been unemployed for a record eight months had broken us down a bit. Her apartment was almost free of food and I had brought down a few things from my place to tide us over. Still, between the two of us, I think we had less than two dollars to our names. We decided to that we could cobble together a pasta, artichoke heart, half a goat cheese pizza slice dinner (with some cheap wine we found in her cupboard) if we just bought ourselves a jar of pasta sauce. Off we went to Trader Joe's. As we stood in the pasta aisle of the store scanning the shelves for the cheapest bottle of sauce, E spent the last of her "real" money on her car payment via her cell phone. That payment made, at the last possible moment, made her officially flat broke. Altogether we had about two dollars in change. We grabbed a cheap jar of Trader Giotto's sauce and prayed tax wouldn't put us over our price limit.

Once we got home, made the pasta, reheated the pizza and threw the artichokes in the sauce for good measure we settled down on her couch to dissect the recent inexplicable popularity of Cameron Diaz's "butt-dance". The contents of the dinner didn't matter, we laughed and commiserated about how broke we both were individually and continued to drink our wine. Our friendship was moving into a new territory now that we were adults and we were continuing to find our way in our new lives. It was the perfect example of how you don't need money to be happy. Seven years later I still remember that weekend and it always makes me smile. Just recently E and I laughed over how broke we really were, how dire things had become for us and how at the time we felt so scared, but at least we had each other to make the other one laugh.

The song? The impossibly horrible, 'What's Your Fantasy' by Ludacris. Why? Because it was on all damn weekend no matter when we got in the car or where we went. It is laughably awful and each time I hear it I think of that weekend when E and I were so broke we almost couldn't afford a jar of spaghetti sauce between the two of us.


Over at 23andMe's pregnancy community I'm discussing pregnancy and allergies, "I am not allergic to anything. Scratch that. Sometimes clove buds make me hurl. However, during my second pregnancy... read more here."

I'm talking about my lack of a competitive nature and the 5k I'm training for at DC Metro Moms too. Read all about it!

Bathing Suit Season Cometh

You know eating an entire box of cupcakes seemed like a fab idea at the time. So did guzzling bottles of wine, eating crepes with bacon, syrup and yes, more bacon. Those fries were also pretty tasty as was the hot buttered popcorn I savored at the movies last week. Overdid it a tad? Perhaps. I admit I'm a glutton of sorts and I do like my salts and sweets. And um... all things winey. And beery and vodka-infused too.

So it is with great horror that I realized that the pool will be opening soon and I've got two kiddos who are all about running around in cute floral swimsuits with ruffled behinds. Me? Not so much. I've got more of a rippley behind and it has got to come to a full stop. Not a full stop for those walking near me either, as in, "Oh dear gawd! Would you just look at that white pasty mess before us? There are children present!"

I'm also training for a 5k, like some other Shredheads, and it doesn't really behoove me to be eating like a college football player. I'm not going to go into what my dietary restrictions will be and so forth. Because that is a snooze button waiting to happen but I will tell you this. My wine bill? It will be smaller and because of that so will my waist line.

I'm missing my pinot grigio already.


"Breast-feeding, every time I think of it, I feel faint." I'm talking about pregnancy and breastfeeding in Got Milk? over at 23andMe pregnancy community. Join me today!

I'm up over at Honest Baby too with, "Fondue=Happy Mother's Day?"

The Comedian

So, what is up with you acting like a five day old Wolverine baby? All gnashing gums and razor fingers ripping at my decolletage. You find it all highly and sickly amusing. Are you illin' or just up to your usual tricks?

Internets, I would like to introduce you to The Comedian. Formerly known as Dash Two this little bundle of non-stop giggles has shown us she has quite a sadistic *cough* er interesting sense of humor.

Exhibit A:

Me: Gaah!! Must nurse! Let's go Dash Two - feed!

Dash Two nurses for 2 seconds, breaks off, looks up at me and smiles. Then laughs. She repeats this painful little move about nine more times. TD finds it all very hysterical. Me? Not so much.

Exhibit B:

Dash Two wakes up and I pick her up. She stinks. As I begin to change her my finger lands in something extremely unpleasant. Eating solid foods... is awesome. Blech. I let out an early morning, "Mother F*cker!" Dash Two laughs hysterically at the fact that I just stuck my hand in her own poop. Either that or she is on her way to becoming the newest George Carlin.


New & Notes:

Check out my latest book review on Amy Dickinson's new book, The Mighty Queens of Freeville at MPR.

I'm up over at 23andMe today discussing Pytalism and more. Come on! You know you want to know what Pytalism is! "Speaking of Spitting-
I first knew I was pregnant with my eldest daughter when I found I had the uncontrollable urge to spit all the time. Suddenly the taste of my own saliva was too much to bear."

Wordless Wednesday - National No Housework Day!

Not entirely wordless but consider yourself relieved of your duties today.

I'm talking about 'How I Spat' -As Exciting as Watching Paint Dry
"The idea of spitting into a cup did not bother me. I conjured up ideas of CSI episodes in my head and figured that in mere seconds it would all be over and done." at 23andMe today. Come check it out here.

A Star is Born. Heh.

I am not crafty by any means but when TD's 'dee-dee' (a.k.a. her pink security blanket) needed mending I skedaddled my butt over to the craft emporium known as Jo-Ann Fabrics. Stores like that just lose me. I circled the aisles looking for pink embroidery thread and just wanted out. The lines were not to be believed with some clever maze of candy for at least 30 feet before you hit the register. Need cute baby Easter socks? Only a dollar! Yes, please! I mean what else do you get a 5 month old for Easter?

I digress though. As I stood there in line picking up a pack of Twizzlers and a Whatchamacallit to pass the time I noticed the woman in front of me staring at me. After a few minutes she said, "I know you from somewhere." I didn't recognize her at all. "You must have had a child in one of my first grade classes." She continued. "Er...no. That's not possible." I told her. "Well, I just know I know you from somewhere!" Finally, after her continuing on like this for another minute or so I threw out the pathetic line of, "Well, I am a writer. Sometimes my photo is with my work..." Gah! I felt like seeping into the floor just muttering that line. All of a sudden she blinked and it clicked in her brain. "Yes! I do know you! You're Mummy Chronicles! Wait until I tell my husband I saw you. He's just outside!"

Whoa.

Never in a million years did I think that would ever, ever happen. I'm glad she likes my blog though and finds my writing "helpful and funny." That made my day despite my blushing and still wanting the floor to swallow me whole.



For those of you who were kind enough to look for me and my blogging friends on GMA yesterday. Sorry to disappoint. We were cut out of the segment it seems. You can view the clip about 23andMe as well as what it's all about here though.

Why I Spat also known as My New Job

As if reviewing products, making vain attempts to make you all laugh on a daily basis, writing for other websites and more I've decided to take on yet another new job. In the coming months you will notice that at different times in this space there will be teasers regarding my adventures with my past pregnancies, being genotyped and a whole other realm of experiences I have had relating to both subjects. I'm working with 23andMe to help them establish their online pregnancy community. It is our hope that through this venue more patterns can be established, links built and research can be done relating to women's health and pregnancy.

If you want to read my first post, 'Why I Spat', "Good genes or bad genes I am not sure there is such a thing. It is a vast lottery of our pasts and our future that makes us who we are, adding in genes, good or bad simply cements things. Take me for example, as long as I can remember everyone in my family has died the same way."

It is a subject I am very passionate about and cannot wait to delve into more heavily. That being said, research breakthroughs are only possible if enough women participate by answering surveys-- if you are currently pregnant or have been pregnant before please visit the pregnancy community and complete a short survey.