Silicon Valley Moms Blog

What's the deal with going to the movies?

"Two for Forgetting Sarah Marshall, please."
"That'll be $20.50." Gulp. After I close my mouth and my heart starts beating again, I reluctantly hand over my credit card and do a quick mental tally: $20 for the movie, $50 for the sitter, $40 for dinner, and we have ourselves a $110 date night. Ouch.

Don't get me wrong. Spending time with my husband is definitely worth the hundred and ten smackeroos. I just hope the movie is worth it too. I hate spending $20 to sit next to someone who is talking, has a bad cold, or, even worse, has nauseating body odor. Come on, admit it, you've sat next to that person before. Makes watching a rental on your ratty old couch in the middle of your toy cluttered living room positively pleasant. (Not that my living room is cluttered or my couch old... ahem...)

The cashier  hands me my tickets and I head to the restaurant to wait for my husband and friends who are all circling the overcrowded lot hunting for an elusive parking spot.   

Daycation at the beach

"Hey! Let's go to the b.e.a.c.h.!" I said to M late Saturday morning. I spelled it just in case he wasn't up for the excursion. I didn't want to get C's hopes up.

"Sure. It's a nice enough day. Why not?" So I jumped in the shower, fed the kids, and we went to the beach. No, we don't live in Santa Barbara or another beach town. We live in Santa Clara, right next to San Jose, but if you're willing to brave Highway 17 we're only a half an hour away from the ocean.

The kids napped for the short trek over the mountains and through the woods and we spent a lazy afternoon playing with some friends in the sand near the water's edge. When we got bored with sandcastles we hoped back into the car and drove to Capitola where we watched surfers ride tiny waves while eating monster ice cream cones.

"What a great vacation!" I thought, momentarily confused.

My cone dripped rocky road ice cream all over the baby (riding in a sling is dangerous business) and the sun beat down on our heads. If we closed our eyes all we could hear were sea gulls and foreigners chatting on the beach (OK, fine, Brits, on the bench next to us, close enough. Whatever.) and we could all too easily

Taking my laptop out for coffee

At home the TV always beckons. Even when I know there's nothing to watch I feel compelled to turn it on, for companionship, for noise, for the Food Network (Hello Bobby Flay...). I sit on the couch, pull my laptop onto my lap, and turn the TV on. Even though I know I write better when it's off, I still can't seem to stop my right hand from reaching for that remote. Within minutes I'm submerged in my blog post or article and the TV fades to background noise, but every so often a commercial or a loud comment interrupts my train of thought, pulling me into TV Land and away from my muse. I don't always mind, and in fact, at night it's my favorite way to spend an evening, but I'll always be the first to admit that it's not the most productive way to spend an hour or two. So on Monday mornings, I'm loath to waste even a second of the precious few hours I've set aside to focus on my writing. So every Monday, after I drop off the kids at daycare, I set off in search for free wireless and a good cup of tea.

The guilt of the working mom

In the last six weeks Little L has had RSV, Pinkeye, Bronchiolitis, and the stomach flu. During that time we discovered that she had asthma and an allergy to amoxicilin. My wonderful husband is an attorney and can't ever seem to clear his calendar enough to be able to work from home if one of the kids is sick, so I inevitably end up being the one who stays home. I'm sure by now my coworkers cringe as they open their emails in the morning: "will she or won't she be here today?"

Because the kids have been so sick this winter, yes kids, after all C has had her share of colds and tummy upsets too, I don't think I've worked two full consecutive weeks since I've gone back to work in November, and I hate it.

BlogHer Earlybird Registration Extended!

I've told my husband that this is my year. This is the year I attend BlogHer. Two years ago I felt too novice and I was worried that people would think I was a fraud. (Self esteem issues much?) Last year I was having a C-section as everyone was hobnobbing and complaining about Pay-Per-Post. But this year is my year. Especially since it's taking place in my own back yard. Well, OK, not my actual backyard. That would be messy, and crowded, but you know what I mean.

All week I've been reminding myself to sign up before Thursday, when the earlybird special was supposed to end. But joy of joys! I can procrastinate some more; the earlybird registration period has been extended to March 31.

I'm going? Are you?

This post was originally posted on the Silicon Valley Moms Blog.
Rose also blogs at It's my life...

An inspiring afternoon with Natalie Goldberg

One child safely occupied with her grandmother and the other snug in her car seat my husband and I headed to Kepler's in Menlo Park to hear Natalie Goldberg read excerpts from her new book Old Friend From Far Away.

I've been a huge fan of Natalie's ever since I discovered her first book on writing Writing Down the Bones. It lived in the bathroom for months (What? It's the only place I ever get a few moments peace to read!) and I read snippets here and there, savoring it delectable morsel by delectable morsel. When I was done perusing her inspiring lessons on writing I Googled her to see if she taught anywhere nearby, but sadly New Mexico is a tad far to commute for a writing workshop.

If I had a million dollars

The car sped along the freeway as we headed north the other day. M was driving and the children were sleeping sweetly in their car seats. The BareNaked Ladies crooned on the radio.

"If I had a $1000000
I'd buy you a house..."

They'd also, it turns out, buy me furniture and a car.

I listened quietly for a while, then I turned to M.

"Yeah. This song? It was so not written about the Bay Area."

That's just the first stanza. In the rest of the song they go on to say all the other things that a million dollars will buy them; a tree fort, a fur coat, an exotic pet... Here you'd blow that first million on a

A slipping and sliding we go

"Mommy! Mommy!" C's voice assault's me from the back seat, cutting through the baby's cries and my intense concentration on the water slick roads.
"What?!" I answer, exasperated and stressed by the nightmare commute.
"The baby is crying."
"Really? I hadn't noticed." I answer under my breath. "Oh. Thank you for letting me know." I say out loud instead. "She's going to have to wait, I can't take my hands off the wheel."
The rain is pouring all around us and the cars are, for once, going slowly. My fingers grip the steering wheel and I'm slowly chanting to myself to keep the panic at bay.

Thankful

It's that time of year again. The turkeys are cowering in barn corners. The yams are mating with the marshmallows. The apples are shedding their skins. And the humans are busy being sappy thankful. Not one to ignore a bandwagon when it trundles by, I'm going to leap on and share with you wonderful people what's making me all fuzzy and warm this holiday season. Feel free to jump in and share in the comment section... or have a glass of wine, or a turkey thigh... whatever works for you!

I am thankful for...
... my sweet, healthy children and my wonderful, supportive husband.
... friends; both new and old
... the marvels of modern medicine
... our cozy, if often messy, home
... my laptop and its brand new hard drive
... the amazing computer guys who were able to save all my data

Who could have guessed it would be this hard?

I've done this before. It shouldn't be so hard. But the closer we get the tighter my chest feels. I'm dropping oFf my baby at daycare for the first time. She's only going for a few hours today, just a trial run. She will go a little longer tomorrow, and even longer the day after. Next Tuesday, she's going for a full day, and I'm going back to work.

I've done this before. It shouldn't be so hard. But it's harder than it was last time. It's harder than the time I dropped off my oldest child and drove to work for my first day post-maternity leave. C had just turned three months and I turned and walked away and I was fine, just fine. Little L is three and half months old and I'm not going to be fine.

It occurred to me this week that I remember nothing about my older daughter's first year. If we didn't have pictures I wouldn't believe that year ever took place. I was so busy running from one place to another, juggling work, baby, and home, that I never got to stop and take it in. I look at her