Mamalogues®

The R Word

2010-03-03T23:35:46Z

The latest over at Momversation, inspired by the trifecta of Rahm Emmanuel, Sarah Palin, and Rush Limbaugh:

My whole thing is this: I don't like assigning value to inanimate objects. Words, guns, asparagus, whatever. It gives the person a free pass on responsibility and intent. Motives, actions, not the tools is where the scrutiny lies. Also, I hate political correctness. In an edited-out portion of what I recorded, I mentioned that the word "retard" was never intended to be used as a pejorative and how people should take back such words with benign beginnings instead of allowing cruel people to use them against others; rather than give up the right to use those words as they way in which the word was intended. Doing so sends a message to the community and it sends a message to those who would bully any community.

What I dislike even more than political correctness, though, is intentionally hurting someone else.

The RFT Article

2010-02-24T17:10:13Z

A couple of months ago Kristin Hinman with the RFT asked if I'd be game to allow her to do a profile piece on me. I was hesitant, but in the end agreed, and here is Kristin's piece:

A few clarifications and answered questions:

- Craig Wagner was paid, what I could afford at the time and what he accepted, for his work on this website, and in all other instances, emailed responses that he would prefer assistance with referrals for jobs in exchange, with which he was assisted. No one was ever forced, asked, or expected to work "for free." And I am not a Kennedy.

- The Coach bag and earrings were birthday gifts from my mother, since I've already gotten email from people so very interested.

- I log my homeschool hours using software called Homeschool Tracker. I use an app on the Palm Pre for when we're on the go.

- KFTK is not considered a "Fox affiliate." It carries the Fox news feed but is not an official affiliate.

- Tea Partiers do not call themselves "teabaggers." Hit at 5:51:

(Courtesy Founding Bloggers)

- On free speech and Dave McArthur: the beauty of free speech is the ability to speak freely. The ugly side of it is not always agreeing with the free speech being freely spoken. McArthur was referencing terrorists who are out there tying to blow up his Marine son with IEDs.

- I do not own the blue coat so I do not know where you can get it (Christie, Beth, Lisa, and Scott). It is actually linen-colored; they adjusted the hue to make it more fitting of the revolutionary period. It was also large enough to fit John Goodman.

- My husband did not being me into the conservative tent, as there were many issues belonging to the Democratic platform that I did not share; it was a gradual process cemented by 9/11.

- The belt is also not mine (Keith).

- I wish all the liberals I know where as tolerant and fun as my liberal friends and those with whom I interact regularly on Facebook and Twitter. We can debate, laugh, and then have a beer. I also do not begrudge those associates who, after I became more vocal, found that they could not accept all of me as opposed to just a part. That's a method that I don't entirely agree with, in terms of editing who you are getting to know, but accept because each person handles things differently. I choose not to personally attack friends, even if they are liberals, and have gone out of my way to not do so.

- My hair is naturally that curly (Becky).

- I was an average Jane who helped to organize a town hall. I've also written about and discussed astroturfing extensively. There is no point in engaging in a discussion if the starting point for a discussion is the omission of that fact and the inclusion of incorrect information that has been tirelessly addressed. (Not reflected in the chosen Tweet excerpt.)

- We did not throw the tea bags into the river, but rather only loose-leaf tea. No litter.

- I developed a thick skin due to previous years in the blogosphere. A man called me "another stupid woman" on the phone and I let him have it, deservedly.

- Not a clarification but an observation: Andrew Breitbart is a fantastic person. He is new media.

- The cover was Jennifer Silverberg's idea (Tim, who asked if I dress as a soldier every day or "was that special for the RFT?").

I'm positive the regular coterie of people who tend to follow me around on the web who make up stories about how mean I am/was/whatever will populate the comments. (In fact, I'm betting on it - so don't let me down now! I've got $20 on you!)

Kristin is very nice and gracious and a good writer and easy to talk to. I admire her work and thank her for her journalism. Jennifer is great photographer with which to work.

*DSM already has his favorite quote.

Life Experiences: Do They Count as Education?

2010-02-16T17:48:43Z

YES! It's called APPLIED LEARNING. This is an issue close to my heart, as you can probably gather from the video. Everyone has a particular thing that works for them and my bottom line is that people have no right to judge an educational path a family has chosen if that path is working well for the family. Homeschooling works for us, public schooling works well for others - consistency in the choice you make is key. Taking them in and out of a public school setting constantly can be disruptive and just not having a bit of structure in homeschooling can be as well.

(I love Karen's point about how we don't come to our decisions lightly. Chris can tell you how I ordered a hundred or so samples of curriculum and researched homeschooling for three years before choosing it.)

I rambled on and on in my submission but I have to share this: I met a family while in Nashville a couple of weeks ago, a family of five traveling across the country with their homeschooled children. They decided that before they buy a house and get entangled in a mortgage, they were going to take this once-in-a-lifetime chance to travel the country with their kids and teach them about America. The kids are videotaping and journaling their experiences which, to me, is educational gold. They're learning about other cultures, history, EVERYTHING. This, to me, is heaven. Obviously, it can't work for all, but for those who can make it work, wonderful.

Check out my and these lovely Momversation ladies' insights:

The Mondays

2010-02-16T17:45:37Z

Getting out of bed is my least favorite thing to do.

(Excluding invoicing.)

I'm not a morning person. Mornings are rude, they interrupt time I'd rather spend not participating in reality. Tiny feet sound like drumbeats as they run across the hardwood floor towards the edge of my bed.

"It's good morning tiiiiime" whispers a little voice. Most of the house likes the morning whereas mornings are my first struggle of the day.

Breakfast. Homework. Email. Writing. Forgot to put a towel underneath the easel as they paint. Regret. Lessons. Lunch. Writing. Prep. More email. Hugs from little arms. Alive. Homework. Failed "sea monster" experiment. None of them hatched. Try again. Prep. Dinner. Kisses. Show. Stomp the snow off my boots. Check on sleeping boys. Collapse in chair. Watch "Fringe" with Chris. Email. Writing. Scrub my Invisalign trays. Bed.

And then some days, lately: breakfast. Rush to airport. Shuttle. Sky Mall! Hotel. Exhale, good wifi. Speak. Socialize. Writing. Interviews. Lights and microphone in my face. Alive. Shuttle. Security. Flying over a patchwork quilt of places I haven't been and people I haven't met. Home. Boys. Alive.

I have photos from Nashville that I need to post but have been so slow because of travel, work, and a big project underway and big news that I can share on the 22nd. I leave to speak at CPAC in D.C. later this week (sad to miss Houston and the lovely ladies there).

Glad the snow has barricaded us all together inside.

Makeshift Gloves

2010-02-09T21:16:29Z

Because I am the world's best mother, I have misplaced the boys' snow gloves. Mother Nature dumped about five inches on us last night and the boys, riddled with cabin fever, were desperate to go out. So I suited them up in the vein of The Christmas Story, each of them, Ewan especially, resembling Ralphie.

I made do with things around the house to create the best water-proof gloves for them: Glad Press and Seal, Ziploc bags, a lonely gardening glove and one of Chris's lined leather gloves. We have a habit of losing gloves at Team Loesch.

By the time I got Ewan's hands all wrapped up it his hands looked like feet, heels and all, and he was crying.

"I'm positive that Mythbusters did a show on this," chirped Liam. It's his favorite show.

"I have foot hands," Ewan sniffled.

"I can't GRAB ANYTANG!" Ewan cried.

"Hey Mom!" Liam laughed, "is this a craft? Like that time you tried to paint?"

"Do you want to go outside or not?"

Silence. Except for Ewan sniffling over his clubbed-foot-hands.

Finally realizing that what I was doing wasn't working, I lightened his load and used only the press-and-seal and two socks.

And then let them loose ...

. . .
Pudge:

The rest of him is in there somewhere. Mean little brothers:

.
Oooh! Snowball!

Poor Pudge's feet-hands make it hard for him to pick it up.

Is Valentine's Day Important to You?

2010-02-09T19:37:42Z

I hate the goobery Valentine's merch, the cheap white teddy bears, the wilted carnations in buckets of water at the gas station. I'm happy that the spirit of Valentine's Day is practiced at Team Loesch HQ year-round but because I am a shameless romantic, yes, I like flowers on Valentine's Day and the extra push to make sure that the day is a little more special than the others. Sad that for some, it's the only day they get.

My latest for Momversation:

Live from Nashvegas

2010-02-05T22:16:28Z

I'll be here for the duration of the weekend; I speak on Saturday morning in a panel entitled "Blogging with the Stars" during which time I discuss the secrets of success which is basically this: sleep with the overlord of the webernetz. I'm kidding. There is no secret other than just to write well.

I'll be on Twitter and on the other site I just announced some nooz.

What I did in Texas

2010-02-01T19:01:24Z

Bullet form.

- Gave a presentation on some past political projects which I helped roll out.

- Ate the worst Greek salad ever.

- Sounded like Kathleen Turner whenever I spoke and tried not to cough on people.

- Got dramatically excited about this place:

- Where I did this:

- ... and got a boo boo on my knuckle because holy Moses I was not letting go.

- Looked up Southfork Ranch five times on Google Maps.

- Hummed this theme A LOT:

Both my mom and my grandma watched this, I never knew what was going on but I remember playing a jump rope game in elementary school called "J.R. Got Shot."

- Flew back home while enjoying great conversation with some brave men and women in uniform.

- Met some great Texans involved with politics on a state level.

- Talked to an atheist Randian.

- Listened to a brilliant tea party Democrat economist.

- Mentioned to Chris three times that the bars of soap in the bathroom were shaped like leaves.

- Played a game of Count the Men Who Look Like Kenny Rogers in the Airport. (In Chicago. Not in Memphis.)

- Missed my boys terribly.

Germs on a Plane

2010-01-28T19:03:22Z

I'm going to be doing a lot of traveling over the next three weeks, coupled with work on a big project about which I'll divulge later, so things are going to be sporadic here during that period. I may not post for four days straight and then BOOM! TORRENT OF INSANITY.

Tomorrow I'll be in Dallas to discuss politics. I've never been to Texas, I've always wanted to go, and if I have to pay money for someone to take me to see J.R. Ewing's television ranch then so be it.

In the meantime, my latest for Momversation: Are you a Germaphobe? Note that when this was recorded I was (am still!) sick and that I have to take extra precautions because I make a living with my voice. Don't laugh at those Uncle Karl gloves. They are hot. HOT.

Results

2010-01-25T18:58:03Z

There was something seriously wrong with me when I was a teenager because I ran varsity track and cross-country, all as I studied classical ballet and I was never ever very rarely sore! I LOVED running! Loved pushing my tendons to the point of snapping! Love that burn!

The other day Chris and I did something that I as a human being, have never done before: we joined a gym.

I have an insanely high metabolism thanks to which I've never had to worry so much about what I ate, despite my mother's threats that one day I'd wake up with a third butt cheek. Before you envy me for this, having a high metabolism has its downsides, namely being that I am a complete and total fidget. It's hard for me to unplug, to relax, to go without a task for any length of time. If Multitasking were a page on Facebook I would fan it. That's how serious.

The other day I decided to start running again. I tried this once a couple of months after I had Liam and when I was done screaming while pushing a stroller after being chased all over my neighborhood by dogs (whose owners should be reported to the ASPCA for their lack of care towards their animals) I thought SCREW THIS, who just like, RUNS? FOR FUN? I'm done.

There's an attraction to running, though. Even if you're running with others you're still battling it out inside your head, pushing yourself ever farther. Running has always provided to me a moment of clarity. I sometimes feel like I'm mentally and physically working things out all at once. I started running again for that reason and to build up my physical endurance. There is no excuse for me to not be as healthy as I can be and I think that it will help me in the long run as I'm constantly getting hit with cold after cold or strep throat.

I retrieved a pair of Nikes that I had in the back of my closet, ones I purchased several years ago for this purpose but put away when I gave up. I put on my jogging pants and hit the track with Queen and Missing Persons playing in my headphones. I probably pushed myself a bit too much my first day back (I did a workout as well) but I knew that if I didn't get that mile under my belt it would be harder to talk myself back into doing it another day. I like results, they keep me moving.

When I crossed the mark for my first mile back it felt glorious. Sure, my legs hurt and my feet ached a bit but they were results that I could immediately feel. Next I'll hone the time on my mile and work up to two miles ... soon as I can walk down the stairs.

That Movie He Mentioned? Yeah, It Was Probably Pron*

2010-01-22T16:29:05Z

I had to stop by the drugstore on my way home as Chris has the plague, I narrowly escaped the worst of it, and when we both talk we sound three cigarette puffs away from having voice boxes installed in our throats. (Apropos of nothing, I particularly love my voice like this because I sound like Joan Jett when I sing in the car).

So I run into the drugstore after the a.m. drive and grab some throat lozenges and some quick breakfast food items - oh and that bag of avocado chips because I was hungry - and make my way up to the register. I had my hands full with my wallet, my phone, my keys (because I now dislike big bags and have for about a year now) and in the mayhem apparently dropped one of my long leather gloves on the floor without noticing.

"I believe you dropped your glove, miss," said a man behind me.

"Oh, thanks," I replied and quickly grabbed it up off the floor.

"You didn't do that on purpose did you?" He asked. He reminded me of the bus driver from Wii's "Animal Crossing." The one that tells you to wash your pits.

"Um, NO," I replied, my face scrunched up in WTF mode.

"You know, because women do that in the movies all the time."

I prayed to God for Him to put a gigantic celestial hand over my mouth because HOO BOY the words "Really? In what movie does a young woman with a husband at home drop her glove in front of a way older male downgrade so as to have him oogle her arse? Because I'D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT MOVIE THAT IS" were begging to fly from my mouth.

The remark wasn't flattering; it was some sort of implied accusation that totally insulted both my taste and my character, which was why I didn't just roll my eyes and smile. No, instead, I flashed him my NRA card and gave him A Look. I'd have showed him a piece, but it probably would not have been the one he anticipated.

(*Yeah, not taking chances with Google search on that one.)

Working At the Computer

2010-01-18T20:22:12Z

Right now at this very second, I am prepping for tonight's show and the boys have assembled a Lego war involving knights and Star Wars characters all over my feet.

"You can't move, Mom!" Liam shouts.

If I flinch a dozen or so tiny little Lego action figures will scatter and possibly little tiny heads will roll.

Liam is quoting LOTR.

"This quest rests on the edge of a knife ..."

I let them learn through play and sometimes it is hard to be so still.

Praying ...

2010-01-16T04:24:27Z

AP photo

... for more of this. For more reunions. For more released alive from the debris. For the cries of the children buried in the rubble to be answered. The photos of these precious babies get me the most.

These people are not responsible for their corrupted government; they are people with whom we share this planet and when tragedy strikes it is a beacon to all of us to step up. That stirring in your soul is resonance.

Be not distracted by your perceived smallness or seemingly inconsequentialness of your response. Nothing is small, nothing is inconsequential in matters of the heart.

(cross-posted)

Things I Would Really Like to Have Right Now at 1:19 a.m.

2010-01-12T07:19:19Z

I'm up late finishing a draft of a script, freelance work as a favor to a friend, and I started thinking about boots.

- I would like a pair of riding boots in every color. I always say that I can't dress myself, in reality I can dress myself, it just sounds better to say that I can't because then people won't think I'm trying to be haute goth by wearing black all the time. Black goes with so much.

- I want more of these little brownies from Costco. I don't know about you, but I simply relish adding padding to my backside by having a brownie at 1:19, oh, nope, now 1:20 in the morning.

- A nice support bra that doesn't look like something my grandma had hanging over her dresser mirror. I have this no-underwire one from Victoria's Secret - oh, crap, sorry, I just forgot dudes also read this site, MY BAD - and believe me when I tell you it's like angels are providing the support.

- Prairie Farms chocolate milk. I like to purchase my chocolate milk (for the children) at the store, already chocolate, because it tastes so much richer than what I can stir up at home. And chocolate whole milk? OMGBBQ it's amazing and I have prohibited myself from buying it because I will drink nothing else.

- More time. I have a ton of emails to answer and I'm an awful person because it takes me awhile. I signed up for this mailbox-helper service thing and then I realized how much I hate mailbox-helper things because I hate the little form emails they send out:
"Hello! You're not important enough for me to answer back with an actual, from my mind email, so lo, you shalt have the form and thou willst be content until thy can answer at (crap. What's Old Times-speak for "mine?"), er, my earliest convenience."
OK. I'm being dramatic, but I always feel bad for folks who get those and I just want all the people who email me for the first time, like Publisher's Clearinghouse, if they wanted to give me money, to know they are just as special as Tina, who sends me every animated .gif email of angels and sparkles that she finds on the Internet. (Love you Tina!)

It's now 1:29.

Back by Popular Demand: the Trebuchet

2010-01-11T06:02:20Z

I set these rules long ago: things that have worked their way into that space between skin and soul where they rub painfully, things which frustrate, things which hurt, things which make you want to scream all of that pain and annoyance into the sky to be blown away by the wind. All of that you put into the trebuchet. Then comes the healing. Then comes the point where you list all of the wonderful things you see in life, things which let in light.

At some point I will open up comments for this. I'm working up to that point. :)

To fling:

- Dirty snow. It's just so gross-looking. Ewan asked if the snow was getting old because it was gray.

- The people who cannot for the life of them say "excuse me" when wanting to pass you so they stand there like boobs and stare. I'm not a mind reader. Do you want by? Do you want to stand there and look at the crackers with me? I DON'T KNOW. TELL ME.

- Distractions. Miscommunications. Ill intentions. Not seeing the forest for the trees. The best can fall victim and when they do, the when and susceptibility, is what I want to fling.

- Black licorice. The Black Plague never went away, it just turned into black licorice.

- My dependance on coffee. It makes me feel like I have sludge in my veins when the effect finally dissipates.

- Having to work as much as I do to eke out a living. (And I'm damn proud of having worked hard as hard as I can to help put a nice roof over the heads of my children, feed and clothe them, and I will never feel guilty about taking comfort in that small success.)

- Using emoticons to force feelings that I don't feel. No, I meant what I said; I am NOT going to put a WINKY EMOTICON there to diminish that.

- Winter. The ground is cold, hard, and lifeless.

Not to fling:

- My boys. Ewan wakes me up most mornings by sticking his round little face mere inches from mine and whispering: "It's goooood morning time!" I used to not be a morning person but that alarm makes me love the world in the morning. Liam will be curled up under his blankets with a book, just as I was his age.

- Chris. I think he feels bad that I have to work when he knows that if the political and economic climate were different, I might not have to, so he makes up for it by pitching in where he can. He made me rye bread the other day. I ate half the loaf with dill dip.

- The way all the boys in my house sound exactly the same when they snore.

- My friends, my mostly apolitical, wonderful friends who don't care what I think, for whom I voted, or anything else. They are at times an oasis, much like my non-apolitical friends are another sort of oasis.

- All the people who have emailed. I stopped checking statistics here and have no idea how many people visit, but I know that I got about a hundred emails from people who said the most amazing, wonderful, supportive things after my last post. I honestly didn't know whether or not you were still out there and you were and well, here I am now also. Knowing that such people were still there, people who accept you as a whole and separate the parts out on their own gave me encouragement. I did still write privately.

- Prayer. Knowing that I can give my yoke to someone greater than I who can bear it. Whenever joy eludes me I pray.

Your turn. If you fling anything email me at mamalogues at yahoo dot com and I will link it here.

Also flinging:

- Colleen has loaded hers up
- The lovely LeAnn, over at One with Books, loaded hers up as well