Silicon Valley Moms Blog

What will happen to all the sick kids?

I'm not going to rant (much) about the politics of NHC or the need (duh) to secure health care for all kids in America. I will only mention once that a million more children in our nation are uninsured now than just two years ago--that 1 in 8 children are without any health care coverage at all--that this means lots of kids are getting sicker and sicker and lots of families are declaring bankruptcy simply because they can't really afford to see a doctor or receive medical treatment. You've heard all that before. Instead I'll share a conversation I had with my five-year-old, W, a few weeks ago.

One mid-week day I got an email from a fellow MomsRising organizer that called for some of us to drive to Sacramento the next day (with our kids) to support the proposed (now vetoed) expanded reauthorization of the State Children's Health Insurance Program. I'm so freaking busy I can't see straight, but at least I can take my kids to the doctor if I need to, so, I said yes. My business partner and I planned to rent a minivan and drive with our four kids to Sacramento to show our support. I explained to W that we were going to take a long drive (in a sweet minivan with video screens) to sit in a quiet meeting in order to "fight for the right for all kids to go to the doctor."

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Why don't their mommies just take them?"

Bull Riding for Rosh Hashanah

Last night I put on a little black dress, headed out to my dear friend's sophisticated birthday dinner at Evvia, and ended up splayed on some big puffy mats with my skirt over my head after being thrown from the mechanical bull at the Old Pro in Palo Alto. I sure hope someone got that on video and puts it on YouTube, because I really want my sons to be able to Google this act someday.

Ah, but if that happens, so be it. My ride last night was not simply a casual romp on the most visible place to make a fool of oneself in town. No. You see, I rode that bull in the name of religion and I gyrated around on it's back for all Jews everywhere. Yes, I went to services on Rosh Hashanah (for ten minutes), and I prayed for a sweet new year. Sure, sweetness has to do with health of my family, joyous times with my children, and all those other typical things a mom of young kids would hope for. But let me be honest. For me, it also apparently has to do with mechanical bull riding and the religious-like high of a good girls night out. If I can't have this kind of fun every once in a while with my girls (shiksas all), well, I'm dead. Mazel Tov to me for starting the new year out right. Right?

The bull ride (and the fact that I can't turn my head to the right this morning, and have a "landing pad"

The horror of suburban pools

David Miller's August 12 column in the Chicago Tribune's Living section titled "An aquatic center isn't guy territory" has been ruffling some feathers and bringing out the cat claws between mommies around here. It's kind of sad...his opinion doesn't really deserve the attention and energy any of us are giving it, but since I'm due for a post I'm going to let this one rip.

In his column, David claims that the suburban moms at his local pool are lazy morons with breast implants that commit the following sins, all of which revolve around a larger sin named "engaging in self-indulgence under the guise of taking care of the kids". Never fear, he comforts, he's about to blow their cover and tell us what suburban moms really do. Ready? Here's the list:

*drive SUVs
*admit they've run the Boston marathon
*wear bathing suits

Happy Birthday, Honey. Now go in the garage while Mommy has a party.

Every year, twice a year, I have to decide what to do about each boy's birthday party. I know we've discussed this issue around here a bunch, and I have gone to both extremes--big parties and small parties. The parties around here are so ridiculous, so often. I know it. But this year I decided to attempt to bring in entertainment for the kiddos so that my three-year-old's party could be more of a, well, enjoyable cocktail party for myself and my friends. Call me selfish but if I'm going to spend cash on a party when I don't really have cash, why not make it something I want to pay for...something that would wow my grown-up friends rather than simply impress some toddlers? Because let's face it, soccer and birthday cake are enough for the tykes. This birthday party thing this year was an excuse for me to spend money on a real party without getting hassled by my money manager (my husband). Again, call me selfish. I dare you.

I was lucky enough to score Mr. Horsefeathers, a.k.a. Steve Koehler for the gig to entertain the 30 or so kids I was crazy enough to invite to my house. Once I had booked him and had received his explanation of what his show would be like ("One part silly, one part absurd, one part prestidigitation, one part juggling, and one part a series of absurd puns, witticisms and dangling participles") I knew I needed to buy more wine for the Mamas and open this soirée up to my entire address book.

Steve did not disappoint. He arrived early to usher each child into our garage/playroom with a silly greeting, and then proceeded to make all 30 kids under six-years-old in the hot sweaty room sit and sway enraptured by his charm for seventy minutes. If you are not aware of the grandiose implications of this feat, imagine watching a hummingbird sit still for an hour or so. It just doesn't happen.

The kids loved it, and meanwhile, I was sitting on my porch with my best friends eating the pate and brie and baked prosciutto figs my dear friend from Cafe Borrone donated to the cause. I know that I went nuts on this party. For shame, I do. But don't I get a pass on overdoing it if really, I was doing it for myself and if I never ever get to throw a grown-up party anymore? Plus, my kid didn't notice anything was over the top. He's three.

PCP , er, PSP Addiction

Last week my friend, her two kids (1 and 5), my two kids (3 and 5) and I (no hubbies) headed up to Tahoe for a couple of days of frantic fun and away-from-home discipline. I learned two things: one, that Tahoe actually can be so gorgeous and refreshing that it is worth the Hell-drive from the Valley; and two, that video games are indeed a special brand of drug and should be as illegal as alcohol for humans under 21 years of age. My kids are not allowed to play them (aside from the few PBS Kids games they have found online) in our house or to own hand held devices (ever), but it's easy to score some action when these games are in every pizza parlor and in nearly every kid's hands (especially on car trips). One whiff of the stuff and my five-year-old turns into a scheming, screaming addict: "I WANT ONE I WANT ONE I WILL SAVE ALL MY MONEY AND CLEAN MY ROOM AND BUY ONE IT'S NOT FAIR I CAN'T GO ON IF I CAN'T PLAY MY LIFE IS WORTHLESS AHHHHHHH!" Yes, I exaggerate, but not much.

Case in point against video games. This was our glorious day last Friday:

1. Wake up with waffles for the kids
2. Go to bike rental place, find it not yet open, kill time at Albertson's in Tahoe City eating chocolate donuts (which we never, ever go buy at home)
3. Rent bikes with trailers and ride 12 miles along Truckee River (kids in trailers behind bikes). Stop along the way to let kids get giddy and naked, throw rocks, and piss in the dirt. (Not an everyday experience).
4. Get ice cream in the middle of the day (another rare treat)
5. Play in gorgeous Lake Tahoe, dig for "dinosaur bones" on the beach, play soccer in the "surf".
6. Go home and allow downtime playing with illegal drug - I mean portable SONY Play station (PSP, otherwise known by me as PCP)
7. Get gang back out the door for pool fun, etc.
8. Go home and force exhausted bodies into bed

Lots of first-time or rare treats were had by the kids on Friday. This is what I remember about Saturday.
Me: "We did SO much yesterday and we had so much fun! W, what was the best thing we did yesterday?"
W: "Video games."

Enough said. Or actually, not enough. I know, I know there are other factors to consider, such as the forbidden fruit argument. Sure, if I let my five-year-old play video games whenever he wanted the experience wouldn't be so coveted. However, then he'd be a full-fledged junkie. We've tried giving him some time to play them. The result is the rest of the day spent asking why he had to stop. And this, from a boy who is obsessed with playing sports and being outside.  There's also the argument that (non shooting related) video games actually teach good lessons to kids. I get it. I know that some kids are allowed to play them, and that it's not the end of their world. I'm sure some kids could handle a beer each afternoon and not become alcoholics as well. Okay I'm not sure, but you get the idea. For us, well, I'm convinced that giving my sons video games is bad bad bad. I might as well give them highballs and leave the area. So, a not-so-quick note to all my relatives: no video game gifts for us. Ever. Thanksverymuch!

Threesome

It's clear to me, from the way my kids dote on younger kids (their neighbors, their cousins, any old toddler stumbling down the street), that they would both like to be big brothers to a new baby. Aside from the attention they shower on little ones, I was also clued in to this desire by my five-year-old's recent comment: "Mom? Let's have another baby."

This is the exact opposite of the type of comment I get from my husband: "Honey, if you get pregnant again, I'm leaving." He jests.

I thought I wanted three kids. I still think maybe I do. After all, in The Valley, three is definitely the new two. Even my OB/GYN gave me grief last week when I went in for a routine Pap and reiterated that no I was not trying to get pregnant again. "Come on," he said. "Have at least one more. Everyone does it." WTF?

The "decision" about whether I have another baby is moot, though, because generally you need to have a willing male to impregnate the vessel for the baby. Recently I tried to pin my husband down on whether it would really be so difficult if we had a third child.

"We could do three," I said. "Bigger family, more fun right?"

"We could do three," my wonderful guy said. "In fact, how about this deal? You have a third baby, and I get to have a threesome. Three for three."

No deal. We bought a fish.

The Ultimate SV Moms Night Out

Last night I escaped the home front and hiked up Windy Hill with four of my mama friends. It was a gorgeous night, albeit windy (duh) and as you can see, we brought things to toast with at the top (ever had alcohol out of a Winnie the Pooh Dixie cup? Very appropriate for us mommies, but not so satisfying).

Usually when we get together, once every few months, we do the basic local sushi restaurant or maybe Oak City Grill routine, which costs at least $40 per person and offers no view of anything but each other's grown up, go-out clothes (which, of course, are fun to see). There's nothing wrong with good sushi or sea-level girl talk, of course. But it stunned me to realize we'd never thought to do what we did last night, before last night. Hike + sunset wine toasting + Taqueria in Portola Valley afterward. Total: $10 each, including a work out, a meal, and cocktails.

As great as it sounds to me, this date wouldn't work with just any group. I would not likely invite the lady who is always asking me about the minutiae of potty training along on a two hour jaunt (I don't believe in potty training under normal circumstances. Ever seen a High Schooler in diapers?) But these women...I don't know, I'm just never bored with them. Not only are they fun to talk to about our kids (our sons all met in preschool and somehow we always end up telling embarrassing stories that involve penises), but we also cover topics that do not involve children. Honest. I treasure these women (and the fifth of our group who met us at the Taqueria afterward) and am grateful to the preschool our kids attended for bringing us together. We certainly wouldn't have met at work. Three of us run businesses that have NOTHING to do with technology, one is a cracker jack accountant, one a school psychologist, and the other seems to do just about everything from wine making to design to succeeding in looking at least ten years younger than she actually is. Bitch.

We aren't all best friends. But we are very special friends. Together we have begun to raise our kids (twelve of them, 5 years old and under), seen the oldest through preschool, and soon *sigh* off to Kindergarten. We have worked hard outside the home and in it, shared those experiences, and bemoaned the fact that we hardly ever get out at night. Usually we are disciplining a group of wrestling balls of testosterone between partial sentences spoken to one another. but when we do get out on our own, I know I can always count on good old fashioned belly laughing that takes me back to elementary school-like innocence. You know these kinds of friends. They are never taxing to be with. When I'm with them I don't care about, well, anything much but laughing and talking. And for the most part, there's no gossip. We have enough to discuss with our own trials and tribulations and events that we don't need to run others through the mud (although of course, we ain't Saints).

Last night was just a little reminder to myself that I love where I live, and who I live near. What else is there (besides family, money, great vacations, work and fame), to life? So here's my directive to you: take a group of your mama friends up Windy Hill ASAP and don't forget the wine!

Working Out to Work Out

For me, arranging my husband's schedule and mine around getting a work out in each day is a work out of it's own. Since we sprouted offspring into the world at least 50% of our arguments are over who gets which early morning to hit the pool, pavement or gym, (even though we already have a prearranged schedule) and related to who might be getting "more" of the workout time/opportunity. He works full time. To me that means he can go to the gym at any time during any day. Eight hours a day without the kids? Hello? Me, I've got 12 hours a week without the kids, and this is my work time. Problem is, he's running his own start-up company and working more like nineteen hours a day, broken up by hours spent having quality time with the kids (and he does do this daily) so I really can't fault him.

Okay, so he deserves some early mornings where he doesn't have to get up with our kids (who always wake up at 5 AM) while I swim. Generally he's been up long past midnight on the computer the night before, and he's exhausted. By 9 AM he's ready for dinner. So, saint that I am, I've decided to give up one of my four swim mornings. This, for me, is like sawing off my right foot. Or, I don't know, something else really big. So now, in addition to scrambling (on the non swim days) for workouts that somehow involve my kids, I'm trying to creatively sneak a swim into my work hours on different days of the week (I just can't let go of that fourth weekly swim. Is this what it's like to be a Meth addict?). Of course it is nice to have four quality hours of time with my children before most people eat breakfast. Or, maybe "nice" isn't the right word. But I'm putting in hours with them, and so I've got that going for me. Which is nice.

The workouts themselves are exhilerating (which is why I do them) but the scheduling is very tiring, and sometimes I think about how much extra time and how much less coordinating I'd have if I just stopped working out. I think about it, but then my eyeballs start to itch. I'm an athletics freak. I must work out daily or near daily or I will self-combust from sharp adrenaline lows. The good news is that someday my husband and I can BOTH have our mornings back. The bad news is that by that time I'll be missing my little boys, instead of just a workout. So while I can I'm going to try really really hard to enjoy my new additional morning spent snuggled on the couch.

Home Camping

I'm not a fan of home schooling, at least not for my kids (unless I'm missing something major that's a lot more work for the parent, for like, all year round, no?). But this summer I'm becoming an avid fan of home-run summer camps. My super fun friend Bella put up some serious Aloha yesterday in her back yard, running a FREE (yup, I said it) drop-off-your-kids camp from 9-1 for a few families. Her mom and sisters helped her run smoothie making (in coconut shells no less), water coloring, limbo doing and hula dancing in the sprinkler for 10 kiddos way under ten years old, including my two noodles. There was no horseback riding, no tennis instruction, no science project. There was no $400 check to write. Even though I do live in Menlo Park, there was refreshingly nothing fancy about this camp. (Hell yes, you can still have fun without a Martha Stewartesque setup!) This was just plain old fashioned back yard fun creatively thought out and planned. It was  simply perfect, and I've never seen my kids as happy at any other camp.

Today Bella is turning her back yard into a baseball park. As you might have guessed, she's not setting up bleachers or lining the lawn with the chalked base lines (though some pillows may serve as bases), and no hired baseball coach is coming. "Being in the ball park" will be in the kids' imaginations (little underused pieces of our brains that are rarely used these days). I'll be using my imagination too, since I get to be a guest counselor today (I heard we are making a pie and eating hot dogs and I'm not stupid).

If you think only crafty stay-at-home moms can run a two-day drop-off camp this summer, I should also mention that Bella works full time running her family's business and being a mom to two boys under five. She took yesterday and today off to run these camps. She'd be the first to admit that, fancy or not, it was a lot of work. Setting up any kind of activities and food supplies for ten kids for four hours in a row will take just about all the energy you've got, unless you are already a preschool teacher. But I'll tell you this. I'm taking photos of this two-day camp and the smiles and pure joy on her sons faces are going to live forever (their expressions say "MY mommy's a superstar camp counselor! She's the bestest ever!"). She'd also be quick to tell you that she will never once regret one ounce of work she put into these two days. The idea is so simple, and so few people take the time to do it. I for one, am inspired. I've already got my own 3-year-old camp planned for July. The theme? July 4th, of course. I love 3-year-old parades.

Attention Bay Area Parents! You're Invited: House Party, Free Movie, Instant Inspiration in Palo Alto this Saturday

Some big wigs in the Palo Alto area with respect to child care and education, and some of the inspirational leaders of MomsRising.org will be gathering this Saturday at 9:30 AM at Cubberly Community Center (in the auditorium, at 4000 Middlefield Road in Palo Alto) for a reception (free food!), presentation, screening and discussion of the MomsRising documentary "The Motherhood Manifesto."

I threw one of these parties a few months back and I can tell you, everyone left fired up. Empathetic tears were shed (by some - don't worry, there is no over-emoting requirement) and personal stories were shared after the movie. It's darn good enthusiastic talking (or just listening) time. So fire up the heart and the brain. Get away from the kids for a few brief hours (though kids are welcome), nosh on some mid morning snacks, see a flick and leave with the knowledge of how you can easily (like, with the click of your mouse) make a huge impact with respect to the welfare of America's children and families.

MomsRising.org is a grassroots organization dedicated to furthering issues such as paid family leave, flexible work options, after-school programs, healthcare for all kids, and excellent childcare. They have also recently launched FamiliesRising.org, with the hopes of firing dads up as well. Dads and kids welcome at the event this Saturday!

For more information email jenpmorrill@yahoo.com

Get Dad Fired Up for Families, on Father's Day

Some folks I love have launched a new site in time for Father's Day, for dads who are into fighting the good fight for a more Family Friendly America. It's called FamiliesRising.org and I'm pleased to alert all the male folk who have been telling me, "That MomsRising organization is great but I wish they'd be more inclusive of dads", know that their wish has been granted.

They've got a great group of dad writers on the FamiliesRising blog and I think you'll find it fascinating to hear from the "other half" about how they view America's investment in our children and what can be done to improve it. I also think dads like to be part of groups just as much as we mommies do. So Happy Father's Day, daddies. Here's a group for you!

Save Low-Income Family Child Care

I love this country. But there's something that really bothers me about, well, us: America doesn't take anywhere near good enough care of our low-income children. There is a certain capitalism gone bad, mean-spirited survival of the fittest attitude among us (especially in places like Silicon Valley), and somehow it extends not only to adults we believe haven't worked "hard enough" to prosper in this expensive land, but to their children. This is not right. Many non financially "prosperous" Americans work themselves to the bone trying to get ahead, and their children suffer when they do not have adequate or affordable child care. We're way behind other nations on this issue, and we need to step up.

Consider that a full 1/4 of families with children under the age of six earned less than $25,000 (found in a 2001 study), and that child care in the US cost (at that time) between $4,000 and $10,000 a year PER CHILD. Most families have more than one child. Do the math. How does one live well or at all, on that type of income? If one can't live on that income, what is the point of working and paying for child care versus accepting welfare? And then, what is the example set for these children?

Today you have an opportunity to tell congress that child care funding is CRITICAL. Right now, this very minute, your Congressional representatives are deciding how much funding to put toward child care for those who need it most. Click here to send a letter to your representatives in support of low-income family child care, today.

Don't ask, don't tell, don't know until it's way too late

Yesterday the Supreme Court ruled that Lily Ledbetter, a 60-year old "fiery mother of two," could not make a claim of workplace discrimination (the claim is that for years she was paid between 15% and 40% less than her male counterparts on the management team--a team that included members who were far less qualified than she was) because she attempted to make this claim more than 180 days after the pay was set.

Um. What the HELL does 180 days have to do with this? First of all, very few people would ever, much less within 180 days, know how much their counterparts are making. I know when I was in the corporate world it was INCREDIBLY tabboo, if not illegal, to inquire about my colleagues' salaries.  How many of you know exactly what your co-workers make? And how many of you keep constant tabs on amounts those folks make as pay periods pass?

The long and the short of this situation is that Ms. Ledbetter got financially screwed because she was a woman, for years. And, because employees don't freely share information about their exact salary packages, it took a while for her to realize how poorly treated she was in comparison to the less qualified males on her team--how much less she was saving for retirement and how many less options she was given in terms of healthcare.

But hey, it's been more than 180 days since that first or last inequity was instituted. So who cares, right?

A lot of people care, and so should you. Justice Ruth Ginsburg wrote the dissenting opinion for the 5-to-4 decision, and in it she asked Congress to overturn the ruling and clarify the intent of the law.  Several Congressional leaders are already stepping forward to counter this outrage by drafting new fair-minded legislation.  Let's get behind them so they can pass this legislation immediately. 

SIGN THE PETITION & PASS IT ON:  Tell Congress, "We Need Equal Pay for Equal Work--it is good law, make it enforceable!" Sign on at: http://www.democracyinaction.org/dia/organizationsORG/momsrising/signUp.jsp?key=2302&t=petition.dwt

My 15 Minutes of Fame

It's not every day I get to see my kids and me pictured on the cover of the SF Chronicle, and plastered all over the weekend magazine section, but it happened a week ago while, of course, I was on the east coast and could not see the damn thing in print. But never fear, my mom was in town and she rushed right to the news stand to purchase 25 copies of the Chron that day. I got one copy Fed Ex'd to me in South Carolina (thanks Mom) the very next day, and I now have 24 copies sitting on my desk just in case I should need to read or view the piece. All my kids' grandmas (there are four) are investigating framing the front page, and I fear I will be seeing this thing encased in glass forever. Maybe "fear" isn't the right word. Let's be honest. I'm loving this.

Photo Credit: Chris Stewart/ San Francisco Chronicle

The article is predominatly about Joan Blades and her wonderful organization MomsRising.org.  But the piece begins at a party I organized with some friends of mine at MayasMom, to screen the MomsRising film, The Motherhood Manifesto. The piece explains exactly what MomsRising is fighting for (stepping up America's investment in our children with regard to healthcare, childcare, paid maternity/paternity leave, fair wages for moms, etc.) and asks whether this time around, these issues will get heard and acted upon. Answer: we sure as hell hope so, and it is looking good.

It's a great article, and I'm so proud to be a part of it. How I got put into a piece about Joan Blades, co-founder of MomsRising.org and also the phenomenal woman who created the now-famous MoveOn.org with her husband, Wes Boyd, is beyond me. Joan is a local hero (at least to me and my mommy peeps) in the area and I am still glowing from being mentioned in the same breath as her. She's also a really really nice woman, as I've been finding in discussions with her, and that's always fun to discover about one of your heros.

I'm not a big framer of articles, but maybe I'll hit Aaron Brothers today and just see what they've got. Go MomsRising!

What I'll do to impress my kids

I've been thinking about doing this Swim Around the Rock race. Although I'm an open water freak and actually do like swimming against currents in scary situations (and have done the swim from Alcatraz before), I think it's time to admit that my main reason for considering this event is to impress my two small children, especially my five-year-old son. 

There is nothing like the incredulous look I get from the back seat of the car when we cross the Golden Gate Bridge and I point out Alcatraz and describe to W how, when he was one and a half, he met me on the shore at Aquatic Park and helped me regain feeling in my toes. "Wow, Mom, you did that?" is like music to my ears, especially from this boy child I have created. Not only do I relish his early admiration of me as a female athlete, but I cherish that pure pre-pre-teen pride he seems to have of me as his mommy. I can only assume that with his promising athletic prowess and eventual puberty and Mommy-shame, my feats won't seem so impressive for long (or at least his shameless and open adoration won't be as forthcoming). I've got to soak up the boundless awe while I can get it.

But let's face it. At this point he won't really know whether I swim from Alcatraz or around it, and so I'm opting out of the $350 race Around the Rock this year and settling for the straight Escape, in June. Next year maybe he'll be able to appreciate the return trip as well. I'll have to start training in July.

New Boyfriend. Fast Motorcycle.

No, this is not my wish list for Mother's Day. Though I can't say I wouldn't enjoy a new boyfriend on the side sometimes (come on, if it were Kosher which of us wouldn't?), I hate motorcycles. Instead, this is the short list of what my oldest and dearest friend is enjoying in the wake of her (very recent) divorce. Her (very new) boyfriend moved in last month. Her time is now fifty percent kid-free (thanks to join custody) to act like a teenager in love (something she never got to do the first time around, by the way). She's going to concerts, staying out late, flying off in private planes for the weekend to exotic islands, discovering hang gliding. And unfortunately (IMHO), she is riding a motorcycle.

To say that her daily reality is not in line with mine right now would be like saying my two-year-old gets a tad bit upset when it's time to leave Chuck E. Cheese. I'm trying to support her decisions and to refrain from judging her, but it isn't as easy as I wish it were. Did I mention that I hate motorcycles?

I'm nearly over my hang up about the daddy/boyfriend confusion issue for her two young kids. Everyone (even her ex) seems perfectly happy, and I approve of the new boyfriend. But I'm really anal about vehicular safety and I generally want my best friends to stay alive. That much is easy to admit. But it's tough for me not to feel that as a mommy--a role model for her own kids behavior--my friend should not be riding a motorcycle. I know that I never, ever want to let my own sons see her ride it. Nothing will break my heart like seeing them ride one someday. But before I shake my head and condemn my dear friend for "acting inappropriately" according to me, I'm trying to sort the morality of the issue out in my brain. She's not just a mommy, after all. She is still her own child inside. She's been through a lot in her life and has persevered to be one of the absolute best mommies I've ever seen. She says she has never felt as free or happy as she does on a motorcycle ride. Doesn't she deserve, within reason, to be able to make herself happy as long as she isn't directly endangering her kids?

Of course she does. What I can't figure out is whether to categorize mommy motorcycle riding as directly endangering her kids. While I worry that this role modeling will encourage them to want a bike themselves one day, one could argue that the kids may just as likely be turned off to motorcycle riding after seeing their mom do it (maybe the fact that she has already crashed and separated her shoulder will scare them off it forever better than I could ever do by saying "don't ride them" to my kids). But what about, G-d forbid, the possibility that they will lose her forever on one of these rides? I struggle daily with how to accept her decision to risk this, which poses a larger question I've been asking. Can we judge mommies differently than other adults with regards to their risk taking activities simply because they have chosen to reproduce? And if so, should dads morph into safer versions of their old selves as well or do we have a double standard here?

I just don't know. For now, all I can do is tell my friend that I love and support her but I hate her motorcycle.

Getting High and Rising Up on Mother's Day

I wouldn't mind a sparkly diamond and a trip to Hawaii for Mother's Day, but a big cup of coffee made with beans sold to raise up the lot of American families would make me feel pretty good too (and at a much lower price).

My favorite political organization, MomsRising, has come up with a kick ass gift idea: caffeine for a cause. I'll buy coffee for no cause at all except my own strong addiction, so buying it to help further an agenda I care deeply about is a no-brainer. MomsRising has enlisted Farley's Coffee to make a special MomsRising blend for Mother's Day. They'll use the profits for projects (including a free Mother's Day ecard) to help further the goal of bringing millions of people, who all share a common concern about the need to build a more family-friendly America, together as a non-partisan force for 2008 and beyond. This grassroots, online effort is mobilizing mothers, and all who have mothers, across America as a cohesive force for change on issues such as healthcare for all kids, high quality childcare, and realistic and fair wages for mothers. Started in May 2006, MomsRising already has over 50,000 citizen members, as well as more than fifty (and growing) aligned national organizations, working together to create positive solutions for the future.

You can order coffee alone, with a Motherhood Manifesto book (which is a great read, especially on Mom's Day). Get yer coffee now and get high off helping make positive change. What better time to start than on Mother's Day?

One Ticket to Paradise (Lost)

In the last five years, I have flown away from my kids exactly four times total: twice for pleasure and twice for business. One of these two business trips occurred last week and I've got to say, if I told you that leaving my boys didn't get any easier I'd be (at least partially) lying. The first time I flew away was for a "fun" weekend. But, my then two-year-old got sick, my husband stayed home to care for him, and I flew off to my brother's medical school graduation in Michigan solo and sick at heart. I practically had to straight jacket myself in the window seat before takeoff to keep from sprinting back home to make sure my son was not drowning in his own snot. Fun, it was not.

This time I barely thought about snot or even the possibility of a head gash or ear infection during my absence. My internal straight jacket was required only to restrain myself from screaming "Yeeehaw!" as the wheels peeled away from the SFO tarmac. I read a whole book during the journey to Orlando. I sat in the inner sanctum of MommyPeace that is childless airline travel (once you've done numerous cross country flights with your own children and then been given a sweet, sweet reprieve). Other children can scream around you and it does not rattle you. You simply smile and dig deeper into your book, thanking G-d that none of the mini screamers are yours to deal with.

I called home when I got to the baggage claim area. My husband and littlest guy gave me goos and loveyou's. Nearly five-year-old W fell apart.
"Mommy?" he said, "MOMMY! Mommy. Come HOME! NOW! I MISS YOU!" This was followed by the type of screaming usually reserved for major injuries. An egg cracked in my chest.
"Honey," I said (nearly in tears myself). "I'll be home soon."
"Now, pleeeaaaaaase," he cried. "I want to jump right in this phone and be with you!"

And just that quickly, the emotional break from being Mommy that I had heretofore been enjoying was abruptly over. I felt empty except during the spa trip I had the next day until I walked back in through my front door three days later and was met with a massive family tackle/scrum huddle hug. Flying away from my family might have initially gotten easier over the years, but I have a feeling that staying away for long never will. I feel so lucky to be running a business with two other SV moms who understand this, and my heart goes out over and over to all the moms who are forced to be away from their families for frequent extended periods of time (however much I may have envied them this past winter during the long cold hours from 4 to 6PM with two boys under five trapped in a house in the rain).

Mommy, why did Jesus die nailed to the cross?

The other day I was folding laundry with my four-year-old when he asked me this question. I can't say I didn't expect it. I'm a converted Jew who grew up Presbyterian and is actually anything but religious in nature. I converted because I wanted some sort of structure surrounding spirituality and raising my kids, and my husband felt more strongly about Judaism than I did about my adopted agnosticism. I liked the fact that the Silicon Valley Reform rabbis in my area freely expressed that whatever one believes about G-d, Judaism is about taking responsibility in this life to make the world a better place. That was all I needed.

Still, I decided to send my kids to preschool in a church down the street from our house. It was most convenient, and those ladies down at the church are nice. Given some of my choices, I know that if I'm not willing to be completely open with my kids about religion and what I believe or don't believe (and perhaps even if I am willing), I'm going to have some seriously confused little people. I am prepared. Still, the questions are coming at me a little early.

Christ, I thought when W asked about Jesus' death. Here we go. (I had co-oped at school on "chapel day" numerous times throughout the years. I knew what they were learning and tried to shrug it off and believe the kids weren't listening to anything but the most basic "be kind" messages.)

"Well," I said as I put down my t-shirt and looked at W, "sometimes people hurt other people they don't agree with, and that's wrong." This is a relatively easy answer that does not require discussion of different religious beliefs. We can all agree that Jesus was killed on the cross. But, hello? Crucifixion in preschool? Isn't this a little scary?  "I know that's wrong," W responded. Luckily my son does not internalize his feelings (ever, which can actually be highly annoying but in this case was good), accepts my answers, and doesn't seem freaked out by the murder of Jesus. But what about those kids I've seen in chapel whose eyes pop at the mention of sin (or "mistakes" as they say at school)? What about the ones who don't ask what Jesus' death is all about, who hear these things ("Jesus died for YOUR mistakes") and just assume they are already "bad" or have somehow contributed to a man called Jesus' death? Oy.

"But how did he get alive again on Easter?" W continued. "Did he really?" Here's the trickier answer for me. I don't believe the resurrection happened, but everyone teaching him at the school I chose to send him to (albeit without realizing what the depth of his religious training was going to be), has told him Jesus rose from the dead just as sure as C follows A and B.  "Some people think he did," I said. "Jews think he was just a great man who died and did not come back alive. We're Jewish. So..."
"Okay," he said. "Can I have a cookie?"

Despite the fact that W seems to be skating through the religious abyss (and he has picked up the message that he is to be kind to everyone around him), I'm sending my two-year-old to a preschool with NO religious affiliation next year (and W is off to public Kindergarten). Call me sensitive, but whether a child is Jewish, Christian, or any religion under the sun, I don't think he or she should be learning about nailing a person to a cross in preschool.