So, Your Kid’s Been Diagnosed With Autism, Now What?
I still remember when one of my most beloved girlies called me with her son’s diagnosis of Autism. It was only 8 years ago, but when she asked the doctor what to do next, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “uh, sometimes speech therapy helps.” For any other medical diagnosis, there’s an entire protocol ready for parents. Most Autism moms had to struggle to find connections and information.
Since early intervention is key to helping and often even recovering a child from a diagnosis of Autism, the Autism Speaks community’s created a free-bee “100 Day Kit,” which tells parents what to do, where to go, and most importantly helps them find their community so that they’re not alone. You’re not alone! Go here for the kit and more information.
Well, This Isn’t Good…
Got one of those annoying chirpy door to door salesmen today. (Editor’s note: you know, the early 20’s, terrifyingly clean-cut, obnoxiously cheerfully persistent sort that swear they’re neighborhood kids when you know they minivan their way across the country like a swarm of magazine-selling locusts?) Anyway, I wanted to get rid of him quickly so I told him I was the maid and didn’t know when the owners would be home. He actually believed me and said “oh, of course you’re the housecleaner. Sorry. When do you think the owners will be back?”
I’ve got to start dressing better. And he didn’t see this, by the way.
Nope. It was more like this.
Maybe brush my hair, or something…
Please God, Don’t Let Me Cry Right Now Like The Massive Weenie That I Am…
…that’s all I could think on the bus ride Friday for our school’s Ski Club. The kids were snarfing granola bars and the whole bus reeked of wet wool socks and orange peels. I was busy wrestling the boots off a first-grader when two heads popped over the seat in front. “We had the ‘kids getting hurt video’ today.” said Alex in a conversational way. It took me a minute to remember that he was discussing the abuse prevention video that I’d signed a permission slip for. Ally, one of the teachers, had to hide in the hallway so the kids wouldn’t see her cry. “It was intense,” she moaned. “Age appropriate for the kids but totally not for me!” The third graders were serious but not frightened, she said.
I fell back on my head-shrinking roots and parrotted my psychiatrist dad’s favorite phrase. “How did that make you feel?”
“It’s okay.” mumbled Charles.
“Just okay?” I said, swallowing hard. “Any…any questions?” I could feel the perspiration pooling in my turtleneck. I’m the Queen of Flop Sweat.
“Well,” said Alex, “one of the kids in the video got hurt. Really bad. He said he was scared to tell anyone.”
Back sweat was suddenly the least of my problems. “So, what did the video tell you to do?”
Charles was first, “we were supposed to find a Safe Adult and tell them someone was trying to hurt us.”
“That’s right!” I praised, “exactly!”
Alex chimed in and ruined my clean getaway. “How do we know it’s a Safe Adult? What if we thought the adult hurting us was safe?”
My stupid, weenie, blubbering mommy self was one tear duct away from a full meltdown. “A…a Safe Adult is someone who listens to you when you talk about anything, funny or serious. A Safe Adult keeps their promises to you.”
Alex thought about this. “Would you be my Safe Adult?”
“Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry you massive weenie!” I thought as I hugged him and said “of course I am your Safe Adult!”
I was not prepared for the reality that when I became a mother to our twins, every child became my child. Stories of abuse and neglect that were before upsetting were now unspeakable. The abuse prevention video is good. It is good that the third graders at our school know to find a Safe Adult. I went home and cried in our walk in closet because any child would have to.
Parent or not, I hope every one of us will become someone’s Safe Adult.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
The Todd is taking me out to dinner for Valentine’s Day–I’m freaking out! What do adults talk about when they’re not covered with a swarm of children? (Editor’s note: okay, we only have two, but I think twin nine year old boys definitely consititute a “swarm.”) By the way–my personal stance on Valentine’s is that ANY kind of love is good–best friends hanging out for a “Cupid Is Stupid” party, a group getting together to laugh and giggle, or letting the people in your life know you love them. No reason to be couple-centric when there’s so many people who deserve your love and appreciation on this day…enjoy!
PS: We’ll be drawing for the $100.00 Kohl’s gift card first thing Monday.
Okay, I just can’t let this one go…
I would like you to know that I am not critical of anything women do with their bodies. (Editor’s note: The Todd will disagree and tell you I am wildly judgemental. But he’s not here right nowto argue about it.) Anyway, I saw this picture of little Debbie Gibson–ah, sorry, DEBORAH Gibson. She used to look like a slim, normal human woman. She’s actually proud of this withered and cadaverous form. Here’s what she said: “I’m at 114 pounds. I was okay at my previous weight, but I felt like my inner diva did not match my outer diva.”
“I feel hotter and more in control. It’s even improved my sex life. You shouldn’t get your whole self-worth from how you look, but at 39, I think it’s okay to focus on the outside a bit if it makes you feel good.”
Look at her chest! It’s like a xylophone! What happened to the former teen idol who cleverly reinvented herself on Broadway and didn’t end up a cutter and coke hound? Who IS this haggard creature?
I am in Tupperware Perdition
I sat in the middle of my kitchen floor tonight, sorting Tupperware with no matching parts and listing my sins…
–I cut in front of slower drivers and gesticulate angrily.
–I laughed when Paris Hilton was sent weeping back to jail.
–When my twins’ third grade teacher asked where Zach’s homework was, I pretended I’d forgotten the folder at home when in fact we had done no homework all week.
–When I was 16 I stole my sister Juli’s skirt and when she confronted me, I actually went to the store, pretended I’d lost my sales recipt and got a copy. I presented it to her as “proof” that I’d bought that skirt and made her feel insane every time I wore it.
I do not feel that any of these sins warrant the fact that I have $6,000 worth of plastic food storage items and none of the lids fit any of the bowls. Unless…Juli has waited all these years to finally creep in, steal various bowls and lids to make me feel insane and wreak her vengeance.
Resolution: save big time on home expenses
Welcome to Week Three of our Resolution Series, where we’re focusing on cutting your home bills down to size. (Editor’s note: thanks for all the kind comments and feedback on Weeks One and Two, I’m thrilled that so many of the budget girlies (and gents) are finding these useful!)
Phone Bills: Remember when everyone had just one number? Hahahahah! Those days are over, and for most of us, cellphones are necessity. But there’s still lots of ways to save.
1. Audit your bills: A recent study showed the average cell user could save a galactic $331.00 per year with a plan that matches up with your usage. You can check www.billshrink.com for a free cell plan comparison. Are there services you could live without? Call-forwarding, etc. Dump ‘em.
2. Make the Big Move: Magic Jack is getting rave reviews from “Good Housekeeping” for ease of service and consistency. We dropped our landline last year for Magic Jack and never regretted it. Sneaky inside tip: the latest electronics show in Vegas also rolled out a Magic Jack feature that will allow you to make calls from your cell while at home using Magic Jack for free. It’s killing the cell guys. You can try out a risk-free 30 day free-bee trial of Magic Jack here. $
3. You can download a Voice over Internet Protocol onto your home computer and call folks worldwide at no charge. Most of the word getting out of Haiti for those first terrible hours after the earthquake was all skyped. Quality isn’t great, a bit of a pain, but it’s free, baby! Sign up at www.skype.com, www.lingo.com, or www.volp.com.
Tax Bills: The average property tax bill and home valuation shot up 15% this year–even though we all know home prices have dropped like a rock. Get a local realtor to give you valuations of homes that have sold in your area, compare to your home’s valuation and appeal. 75% of appeals result in a reduction of taxes!
Refinancing: Look, make the suckiest economic period in 75 years work for you. Interest rates are galactically low. Do not agree to any up-front fees! My personal favorite? Paramount Equity Mortgage, 800.250.4000. Ask for Dustin Dunaway. He’s refinanced for us twice. I love him. I am not getting paid to recommend him here.
Reduce Your Payments: If you’re struggling with your payments, you may be eligible for a Home Affordable Refinance or Modification. It’s a federal program designed to help you. Visit the site to see if you qualify: www.makinghomeaffordable.gov.
Insurance:
1. Install safety devices: most insurers will offer 5-10% off a policy for homeowners who install deadbolts and smoke alarms.
2. Boost your deductible: We increased ours from $250 to $1,000 and it knocked 30% off our policy. The average homeowner files a claim only once every 10 years or so. Save the moola!
Cable TV: I’m not looking at you, I’m looking at me. We have nearly every premium channel there is and we excuse it because “it’s our joooob!” to be “up” on every show on the planet, since we walk about them on our radio morning show. Really? Do we need every channel?
Loyalty Means Nothing: Sorry to sound cynical, but there’s no one, from your accountant to your cable provider who won’t try to drop their rates once you get a better bid from someone else. Be brave. Present the other offer, and bargain. They won’t lower their prices voluntarily, just because you’ve been with them forever. So make them.
Help For Haiti
I’ve been absolutely thrilled and touched with the outpouring of response from my fellow budget bloggers regarding the crisis in Haiti–so many of these women have come up with creative and hopeful ways to offer financial and spiritual support. Most seem to follow along the lines of donating for each comment they receive. I will tell you that The Todd and I have already donated to the Red Cross. If you missed my earlier post, you can simply text “Haiti” to 90999…you will receive a text back asking you to approve the charges…$10.00 will be sent to the State Department’s designated charity, the Red Cross. You can also donate at www.redcross.org.
Our experiences in radio and working with disaster relief experts has taught us some important lessons, I’m hoping you might find them helpful, too.
1. The days for canned food drives are over. The disaster relief groups already on the ground can spend your donation and get triple the value in food, medicine, cleaning supplies, etc. because of their connections. Any food or clothing donations cost more to ship than they’re worth.
2. Don’t under-estimate the power of prayer. Or…lighting a candle…or meditating…or song…whatever you do to offer spiritual hope and comfort to those suffering.
3. Learn about what you can do after the immediate crisis. FEMA executives have told us that the real hope for places like these come after the crisis is past. Those who developed an interest, read about the region, learned about local charities–these are the people who make the difference in long-term recovery.
The Todd and I are fortunate to know the Aitkens, an amazing family from Utah who built an orphanage in Haiti and are awaiting word of the three beautiful little ones they’re adopting from there. They were nearly finished with the paperwork and were going to bring them home in March. Can you imagine? So, our passion will be the long-term recovery of Hope For Little Angels of Haiti. In a couple of months we’ll be holding a fundraiser to rebuild the orphanage and we’ll be going over with the Aikens to work on helping in the recovery of a beautiful culture. I hope that you will find a project there that inspires your passion as well. I’ll pass along information about Hope For Little Angels of Haiti as we begin our work–maybe you’d like to be involved!
Love and gratitude to everyone who’s opening their hearts this week!
25% off your weight loss!
About 3 years ago, I lost 50 pounds on a product called Calotren. It’s deceptively simple–it’s a protein-base that adds muscle. Since you burn more calories with muscle, you burn more calories, period! My thyroid decided to go south on me, and I gained nearly all of it back–in one month. Gah! I called my girlie Melissa who put me on the Calotren, and she turned me onto the 2.0 version–called Calorad MG. It’s completely safe to take with any medical condition, no stimulants.
Look, I’m bitter about having to start over, but I’m psyched to have a formula I know will work. Would you like to win a free-bee month’s supply? Add yourself as a Facebook Friend here and she’ll give away a bottle tonight! When you call to order, be sure to mention That Went Well and she’ll knock an additional 25% off the price of your supply! The number is 1.888.48.nofat. We’ll lose the weight together!
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Resolution: save big time on your grocery budget
This is week two in our Resolution Series, where we take some extra time to ferret out ideas and tips to help you keep your money-saving resolutions. This week? FOOD.
1–Track your budget for a month. This one was hard, because The Todd does the cooking and most of the grocery shopping. We finally stuck an envelope to the fridge and committed to dropping every recipt into it for a month. Even if you think you’re keeping to your budget, you’ll likely be shocked. Our biggest weakness was little things–cheapie toys for the kids, magazines at the checkstand instead of by subscription. Yours may be soda, or insanely expensive shampoo. Discuss as a family what you can live without. Financial experts are recommending a food budget of $125.00 per week for a family of four.
2–Join a food co-op. My dad was big on these in the groovy hippie era in San Francisco. Fortunately, the co-op survived, though the love beads did not. Usually, you spend a few hours monthly volunteering at the co-op in exchange for prices that are often half of what you spend at the store. Our local co-op has fresh herbs, lovely bread from an artesian bakery, and organic veggies. Find one near you at coopdirectory.org.
3–Buy more fresh fruits and veggies. I know, they’re more expensive, but more and more studies show that when families add more fresh produce to their diets, they not only lose weight, their food budgets actually shrink by 25%!
4–Consider an extra stop by a local outlet for baked goods–day-old breads and rolls are at least 50% off. Take a look at the “outlet locator” at www.gwbakeries.com to find one near you.
5–Convenience costs you. Sliced bags of apples? $5.79 a pound. Whole apples? $1.29. Bag of pre-washed lettuce? $3.25. A head of romaine? $1.19. Shredded cheese is a killer: $11.19 a pound. A one pound block? $5.09. The Todd argues that if buying the convenient stuff is the only way to eat healthier–ie salads, it’s worth it. But if you can devote an hour to slicing, shredding and pre-bagging everything for the week, you’re saving hundreds of dollars. You know your time limits, so you need to decide if time or money is worth more. It’s not always the latter.
6–Coupons. You will likely want to spit on me here. This is the first year I’ve ever used them. Here’s what I’ve noticed from emails and comments from you. Eager souls buy 6 papers, spend hours clipping coupons, and then go nuts trying to redeem them all. Simplify. Your time is worth something, too. Here’s a few great clip sites:
–Grocery Coupon Network: my new favorite: I’m fairly helpless with coupons and give myself a huge pat on the back if I remember them half the time. (Editor’s note: don’t act all shocked. You know you’re not dealing with Martha Stewart here.) Grocery Coupon Network takes a few minutes to set up–you’ll click on the coupons you use most–staples like mik and cheese, or diapers, etc. The network scans all offers in the blogosphere and sends you all the coupons you want to print. It’s quite amazing!
–Coupons.com: always good for staples like cheese, milk, yogurt and toiletries. Can be used anywhere. You’ll need to download a widget to use it. It will not add spyware. Do not fear the widget!
–A Full Cup: one of the best–you’ve got access to dozens of different stores coupon offers. Helpful community.
–Shop 4 Freebies: a daily email list with links to all kinds of free products.
–Freeflys: in the last 3 months, I haven’t had to buy toothpaste, eye drops, coffee creamer, dishwasher detergent, organic cereal…because I got free-bees from here. No spam, that’s why I suggest this one.
And as with all Resolutions, break it up into manageable chunks. I always try to accomplish the entire thing at once and then think I stink because I failed. Maybe start with tracking what you spend. Or, sign up with just one coupon site. Or, look into the co-ops. You don’t have to be Insane Shopping Diva from day one, right? Good luck!
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Happy New Year!
Everyone from economists to New Age gurus are looking at 2010 with great relief and hope. Let’s face it: 2009 sucked for nearly everyone. But, on the bright side, we all learned to economize, depend on each other, be happier with less, so there were important lessons to be learned. Since offically launching this blog on September 15th, I’ve been amazed at the creativity and resourcefulness of you all. I’ve been especially appreciate of the more seasoned budget bloggers who were so kind and generous–One Cheap Chick, Thrifty Northwest Mom, and the Bargain Jargon are powered by amazing women!
We’ve got some great ideas planned for 2010 for “That Went Well,” many from suggestions from you! The first is the New Resolutions Series: every week we’ll post information and ideas from experts on what you wanted to learn about most. The most requested will surprise you: not weight loss or organization, it’s letting go of negative habits and ways of thinking, and replacing them with more positive ways of doing things. Look for that post later today.
Happy New Year, girlies (and budget gents!) It’s going to rock for all of us!
Merry Christmas!
My girlie Barb said it best: “I used to be Queen of Quite A Lot. Now, I want to be Queen of Just Enough.” We hope you all are Queens of Just Enough today. Merry Christmas to everyone with love and gratitude for a wonderful year!
Planning ahead for the Holidays…
I’m trying to improve from my general uselessness regarding Holiday gift prep. My sisters have questioned whether I even have ovaries because I’m the lone female you see on Christmas Eve trying to arm wrestle every husband and father for that last pair of off-brand socks. I actually gave my boss a pound of sodium-free cheese once because that was all that was left at the grocery store.
So, my goal is to pick one or two really cheap and cute gifts per week that I can stock up on to get ready for December 25th. If you suck at this, too–we can prepare together!
Here’s a good one: I’ve actually gotten three free-bee offers through Vista Print. They’ve made up great-looking cards for my neighbor kid’s lawn-mowing business…I got a free customized rubber stamp for “Erin’s Slumber Party,” and I printed up these cute “I’m Amazing!” stickers for my twins’ class. All free! You just pay shipping and handling. Here’s some of the things they can do: Get 250 FREE Business Cards, 140 FREE Return Address Labels, FREE Rubber Stamp, 10 FREE Invitations, 100 FREE Postcards, Free Sticky Note Pad, 25 FREE Magnets, FREE Note Pad, FREE T-Shirt, FREE Mouse Pad, 25 FREE Checks or FREE Keychain. Choose from a variety of designs that suits your needs and style. Give Vista Print a try…
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What I am NOT getting “Just in time for Christmas!”
This is no joke. I found this from one of my favorite mom sites, and it’s actually being marketed for little girls. This classy little gal’s name is “Gizmo” and the box says it all: “Style.” “Interesting.” “Music.” “Flash.” “Up and Down.” “Go Round and Round.” Yep, that’s the description of the latest in shocking doll designs — the “Pole Dance” doll!
The Loneliest Conifer
Reason 2,003 why I must love The Todd…
The Todd is Head Chef and Dietician in the Collard Household. I gladly ceded that responsibility to him after our courtship, where I attempted to lure him into my clutches by making my mother’s signature Marinated Roast. Except–I’d been a strict vegetarian for years and had no idea what cut of meat one used. I stood, paralyzed with horror, in front of several nicely dissected and packaged animals. Of all things, a Rastafarian (Editor’s note: common perhaps where you live, but in Utah, we don’t see many of Jamaica’s Beloved Sons) came round the corner and paused beside me.
“Why are you just standing here, little sister?” he asked.
“Um, I wanted to make dinner for my boyfriend using my mom’s recipe, but I’m a vegetarian and I don’t know anything about cuts of meat anymore.”
My dreadlocked friend considered this seriously.
“So, you’re cooking for your man, but you won’t EAT the meat,” he cautioned, “that’s good. I’ll try to help you.”
So, two clueless vegetarians stared at the meat case for about 15 minutes until one of the butchers took pity on us, examined my mother’s recipe in her spiky handwriting and sent me on my way with the correct roast.
I’m pretty sure the butcher–who knew both The Todd and I–told on me, because my kindly spouse immediately took the reins (or the apron strings) from me and I’ve never had to cook again.
So, The Todd is the one who packs the boy’s lunches every night, with their careful gluten and sugar-free meals. He knows that at the lunch table the next day, their classmates will be scarfing down Lunchables and M&M’s. He knows that Zach and MacLean are only 9, and that eating a special diet–even when it makes you feel better–sucks when your buddies are chomping Twizzlers. So, he writes a note to pack in their little insulated bags to tell them he loves them. That he’s thinking of them. And The Todd’s notes take away their frustration and anxiety like he did from me before I had to admit that I stink as a cook. And my boys eat their fat-free hot dogs and squash chips with a smile.
Awwww–dangit!
After all of my mocking about the Swine Flu, guess who’s Miss H1N1 2009? Sorry about slower posts, I’ve been spending most of my time trying not to “go to the light” like CarolAnne and waiting for Mr. Thermometer to drop below 136. The Todd is busy making soup, wrangling the twins and painting lamb’s blood on the door to warn everyone away from the Collard House of Pestilence. Blah! Love and empathy to all of you going through the same. I’m really going to owe The Todd when this is over…
Okay, that DOES IT! You just wait ’till Miss Emily comes back from Kenya with a switch in her hand!
I know that doesn’t have quite the threatening ring that “Wait ’till your father gets home!” does, but neither The Todd or I have ever laid a hand on Zachary and MacLean. (Editor’s note: this does not mean that I haven’t wanted to. Oh, yes. Many times.) We just never felt that pain and shame were good disciplinary tactics.
I vividly remember the first and only time anyone struck Zachie. He was in Kindergarten and there were two beastly little boys in the class. I know that at the tender age of 5 I shouldn’t be labeling anyone as beastly, but they were. “You can’t be in our club!” they’d sneer to the other kids at crayon time. “Your hat looks dumb!” to a 4 year old sporting her new fall chapeau. So, it wasn’t a big shock when Miss Rachael called, very upset, to tell me that they’d ganged up on Zachie and hit him until pulled off. He seemed quiet but not too traumatized until later that afternoon, when he suddenly started sobbing in the back of the car. I, being the ideal role model, started crying too. “You’ve never been hit before. I’m so sorry, sweetie. It must feel pretty sad.”
Another wet sob, “Yes. It hurt my head and my heart.”
We’re lucky that Z&M are not hitters. It makes not using corporal punishment on them easier. It also means that attempting to rule by fear is impossible. Like the time I shrieked at them to come back from the edge of the icy cliff. It was actually June, but we had some beautiful little visitors from Kenya, 6 adorable girls here to visit with their teacher, Miss Emily. Miss Emily was exquisite: tall, elegant, strong and proud in that way that only truly spectacular women can be. She had only to look at those little girls and all naughtiness ceased instantly. We took the tram to the tallest peak at Snowbird to show the girls snow for the first time ever. Which is where I was hollering at my cliff-leaning sons. They ignored me until I came pelting down the trail to drag them back. Miss Emily observed this thoughtfully.
“Do you beat them?” she asked.
“No!” I said, startled.
Miss Emily nodded wisely as if that explained everything.
“Do you…do you hit the kids?” I ventured. She looked at me pityingly. “Of course. With a switch.” I gasped. “Understand. I have 200 orphans under my charge.” she said. “If they leave the boundaires of the orphanage, they can be raped, sold, killed. They must behave.”
I still have a very hard time accepting that any child should be hit with a fist or belt. I understand that Miss Emily’s culture in Kenya is very different than the threats we face here, where a playground smack has been my biggest conflict challenge. I hope for all of us that we can teach our kids tactics to negotiate disagreements that don’t involve a slap or a punch. But it takes so much self-control.
Which is why when I came into my bedroom the other day to find my sons eating chicken and having a clean laundry fight with 18 neatly folded piles of clothing, I found myself screaming the title of this post. Sigh. I’ll be more mature tomorrow.
AAAAAAAH! (Or, “Don’t hate me for my celebrity lifestyle, part 12,001)
So, I’m doing a Ghost Hunt tomorrow morning with KUTV2 news, Robert Kirby from the “SL Trib,” and Tom from the Wasatch Paranormal ghost hunters. We’re going to the Utah Museum of Natural History, where bones have been known to “travel” and “reassemble” all by themselves in the middle of the night. Follow along online, at B98.7 or KUTV2. If you see any blood or entrails, I’m really hoping they won’t be MINE. Wish me luck!
Making bargains with God.
First, let me apologize to anyone that is offended by me mentioning God. Feel free to substitute “The Great Beyond,” “She Who Has No Name,” “The Almighty,” “The Limitless Universe” or whatever more closely fits with your vision of the divine. Look, maybe you throw clams at the sun on your spiritual retreats, I just think we all hold out hope for something greater than ourselves.
My beloved girlie Charlaine from Dallas said it best: “Girl, I have never known such fear as until I had children!” I always knew The Todd and I could overcome any challenge, face anything together.
Until my body reneged on the deal.
Twins run in my family…multiple cousins have them. My dear mom lost twin boys at 5 months. It was right at 5 months when I was pregnant when I started making deals with God. “I promise I will never take Your Name in vain again if the boys are healthy.” “I will donate 20% of my salary to the homeless if the boys come out okay.” “I will stop cutting in front of slower drivers and gesticulating angrily if it’s all good with the twins.” And later on when I gained 100 pounds of fluid (Editor’s note: I am not joking here, you could have put strings on me and floated me down Madison Avenue with the rest of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.) “Lord, I know my body is totally jacked up, and I’m okay with that as long as it’s not affecting the boys.”
I would just like to say that our planned C-section was NOTHING like the “Baby Story” on TLC. Talk about a birthing plan shot to hell. The crash cart, 2 cardiologists, trauma team and that totally sucky tube that ran from my neck through all four chambers of my heart made it fairly clear that this was NOT what we had planned. And I was still okay with it. I figured God and I had a deal. Screw with me, fine. But leave the twins alone.
They had names by then. Zachie was on the bottom and HATED ultrasounds. He would flounce over crossly and refuse to let us see his little face. MacLean was on top, by my heart. They would always have their foreheads pressed together in my womb, like they were telling secrets.
I tried to negotiate with the cardiologists. “I can take a lot of pain, PLEASE let me stay awake to see them!” No dice. I told my mom and sister Jenne, “don’t you DARE let them be alone! If they separate them, you go with them! They can’t be alone!” I knew The Todd would want to stay with me…even though I threatened divorce if the twins were left alone in some warming bed.
I woke up four days later with a tube down my throat and my hands taped to the bedrail. Dang that Todd, he knew I would try to rip out the tubes. I was perfectly fine with the mess left of my chest and the network of scars. God and I had a deal. The boys were okay.
It’s been nine year since then. My boys have challenges. Big ones. I have learned that God doesn’t make bargains. This completely ticks me off, by the way.
I visited the pediatric cardiology unit at our local children’s hospital today. There are three month olds with scars bigger than mine. I compared “zippers” with a couple of the older kids. We are cool. We have our badges. And I looked at those parents who hovered as I lifted my shirt to compare those puckered track marks on our abdomens and chests. I dispensed stuffed animals and dvd’s and cupcakes. Every one of those mothers and fathers would have given anything to take their child’s scar for themselves.
I ached to tell them that God doesn’t cut deals with any of us. I don’t care how many charities you give to. I don’t care how many good deeds you do. Your kids will still face challenges that will make you burn in every part of your body to swap places. But, you will hold their hands and tell them “hang in there. I get it. It totally sucks. But you WILL get through this. I did.”
And you will forgive God for “breaking the deal.”
At least, I’m working on it.
Man, does that suck.
I visited a pediatric cardiology unit today at Primary Children’s Hospital. (No place better in the United States, by the way.) I compared “zippers” with some of the kids. (Editor’s note: the scar you get from surgery) There are 3 month olds with bigger scars than mine. Every parent in that unit would have traded places with their kids. I am SO GLAD it was me and not the twins. I love you all, Lexie, Samantha, Jorge and Heber! I love you so…
The most AMAZING new song!
THIS is why I got into radio in the first place–the love of the music. My family are all disgustingly gifted musically. Radio is the closest I’ll get to that level of bliss. This is for us night owls, named appropriately enough, “Fireflies” from Owl City. Hope you love it, too! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCjZNXLbyHg
Wanna laugh and cry at the same time?
I SWEAR I don’t obsessively share clips, but this one made me weep, even while I was laughing myself sick. I think it was the tender look that Jim gave Pam, it reminded me so much of The Todd waiting for me at the end of the aisle on our wedding day. Sniff. You’re going to love this, whether you watch “The Office” or not!
http://www.nbc.com/The_Office/video/clips/office-wedding-dance/1164915/
Don’t Hate Me For My Celebrity Lifestyle, Part 9,012
The Todd and I hosted the Save A Stray Soiree last night–NO ONE puts on a show like the dog lovers! It was beautiful, and everyone brought their cute dogs to socialize. Which was great, right up to the point while carrying about $3,000 of mikes and sound equipment, I trip over a massive beagle dozing in the middle of the walkway and go flying. (See bruise on arm) In front of 800 people. Now you know why I failed “Grace and Poise” in Young Ladies Club when I was 14. And you HAVE to pretend it doesn’t hurt!
Get Your Hands Off My Fear Body!
When the economy first tanked and there was emotional pandemonium everywhere you looked, The Todd and I called one of the smartest therapists we knew to appear on our radio show and address what everyone was feeling. Teri Holleran is a tiny thing with huge eyes and an even bigger laugh–which she made us do several times doing the interview. But she said something interesting: that nearly the entire nation was inside what she called our “Fear Bodies.”
Don’t Hate Me For My Celebrity Lifestyle, Part 603
(See right) Sexy Incisor? Why wasn’t I cast as Sexy Incisor? Why was I picked for Angry Bicuspid? Are they trying to tell me something? I am actually at the point where my self-esteem is damaged by tooth placement.Introducing our Halloween Tree!
The Todd has taken to calling me “Good Housekeeping with a taste for blood.” We spent a wonderful afternoon yesterday making our Halloween Tree. I’ve seen fancy, stupidly expensive black trees at the decor places, but I’m not paying $300.00 for a black tree. I picked a nice sturdy branch, clipped off most of the leaves, and The Todd spray-painted it black and put it in a cheap galvanized pail with “Quick Set”–it’s a fast-setting post mix for about $7.00. You can also use sand if you don’t want to get into the cement thingie. Nearly everything you see on the tree here is either from the Dollar store or homemade. I used spanish moss and fake cobwebs to add a three-dimensional look to the tree. Those adorable paper lanterns are from the Dollar store, too. Is Halloween not the BEST holiday?
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Disgusting Personal Habits of the Rich and Famous
After 20 years of interviewing celebrities, wanna-bes, and those painfully chipper First Season folks from any show on the WB, the only reason I have left to open the mike during a “celebrity” interview on our radio show is to ask my all time favorite question: “What is your most disgusting personal habit?” Mind you, there’s no reason they should actually answer me, but they ALWAYS do. Maybe they’re startled into it. Who knows? But the only two that ever blew off the question were (1) Mel Gibson, who spluttered “what the hell?” when asked, and (2) the Jonas Brothers, who after an appalled silence, flatly said “Uh, no. Just…no.” (Okay, fair enough kids, but you have GOT to loosen up or you’ll never live long enough to see the far side of puberty.)
The “O” Bracelet
If you pick up “Oprah” Magazine (free six month subscription, just enter Oprah into the search button here on the site!) you’ll see an incredible story this month about the women of Rwanda who survived their (latest) brutal and bloody civil war. These amazing women handcrafted the ornamental discs that will be made into beautiful bracelets by the women who survived Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans. Kind of a lovely circle, isn’t it? They’re a little spendy, but I just ordered the black and white one. What you put on your wrist will help women here…and across the world. http://www.macys.com/search/index.ognc?SearchTarget=*&Keyword=obracelet
I’M FREAKING OUT!!!!!
There’s lots and lots of celebrities one meets along the way when working in radio. But, there is NOTHING like meeting the heroes of your youth. Case in point: over the last couple years or so we interviewed both Rob Pattinson (he was “Cedric Diggory” then, pre “Twilight”) and Chris Pine (”Star Trek”) and, hmmm, meh. (Editor’s note: as a matter of fact, we were truly astonished that Chris Pine carried Captain Kirk. He is the most bland, non-charismatic individual on the planet. He actually sat in studio in The Todd’s chair, and my spouse still could not remember him at all. “Honey! Chris Pine! The blondish guy! He sat in your chair when we interviewed him for “Bottle Shock!” “Who?” “Chris Pine!” “What does he look like again?”)
But I digress.
It’s your first childhood crush–the first “Teen Beat” poster you put on your wall that marks you for life. My cousin Mindy and I engaged in vicious battles as children when we played “Make Believe” to have the right to be named “Julie” in the game. This was because Bobby Sherman’s big song was “Julie Julie Julie Do You Love Me?” If you were “Julie,” you got to be Bobby Sherman’s girlfriend. I later interviewed Bobby Sherman for some 70’s compilation CD release and he sang “Erin Erin Erin Do You Love Me?” to me. No moment of triumph will EVER eclipse that, EVER.
Still digressing…
So, about Martin Fry–ABC’s “The Look of Love,” “Poison Arrow,” “Be Near Me” defined the 80’s for me. I was trying to break into radio, I was passionate about modern music–and he was so dang cool in that shiny gold suit and his flippy Emo hair. I looooved him so. Now, I get to meet him next week at the Regeneration concert! This is SO much cooler than Rob Pattinson! Seriously, I’m FREAKING OUT!
Don’t tell The Todd.
Don’t Hate Me For My Celebrity Lifestyle, Part 3,002
Sooo, The Todd is out of town on a fishing trip. I have to host the Wine and Cheese Festival at the Sundance Resort–you know, Bob’s place. (Editor’s note: they do not call Robert Redford “Robert” at the ski resort he owns–all things are started by: “you know, that’s Bob’s favorite wine.” Or, “Bob prefers the scallops.” My MacLean accidently gave me a massive head-butt while swimming, so I have a cut on the bridge of my nose and a black eye that makes me look like I’ve been in a bar fight.
I wiggle (thank God for Spanx!) into a cocktail dress, go down and host the thing. I come back to my white-faced nanny, who is pointing dramatically at the backyard. Apparently, The Todd set out rat traps before going on his trip, and two of the traps…well…tripped. I teeter out in my 3 inch heels and Vera Wang cocktail dress to clean up the rats. One has been there a couple of days and is…juicy. See evidence.
While balancing in my 3 inch heels, I fall into the rat. I’m now power-gulping a glass of wine and trying to figure out what cleaner will accept a dress covered in juicy rat.
No Special Treatment For THAT Kid!!!
Didn’t lose that 20 pounds over the summer like you’d planned?
I’m so with you, sister! I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to see the same number on the scale I started with on June 1. I ran into my girlfriend Toni a month ago–we’d worked together in radio about 14 years ago–and the woman has turned into a shadow of her former self! Toni lost 45 pounds 4 years ago, but more importantly, kept it off. So, she sent me to her people who helped her lose the 45 pounds. I started Total Trans4m 20 days ago and have lost 7 pounds already! The main ingredient is Phaseolamin, which is an extract from the white kidney bean. It essentially acts as a fat and starch blocker, and an appetite suppressant. My first thought was that it wasn’t working because I wasn’t all buzzed out and jittery the way one usually is on diet stuff. It’s drug and stimulant-free, and it’s WORKING! Frankly, I’m still more interested in the fact that you can keep the weight off after stopping the stuff. If you want to join me, the girls over at Total Transf4m are offering a deal: 50% off if you mention “Erin” when you order. A month’s supply is usually $80.00, but you can get it for only $40.00! That’s just a little over a dollar a day! Any of the girls who answer the phone are using the product or already lost their weight on Total Transf4m, so they can answer all of your questions. You can check out the website at http://www.b987.com/ keyword “diet.” Give ‘em a call at 888.315.3779 to order and ask questions. They’re very nice and won’t torture you with a hard sell. If enough of us order, it would be fun to do this together, and I’ll come up with some cool rewards for weight loss. Let me know what you think!
Hey, Hey, HEY! It’s not your birthday!
It required moving out of Utah and working in radio elsewhere for a decade to realize that we in the Mountain West are a collective group of gropers.
here if a gentleman made an untorward advance, we were supposed to tartly reply, “You’ve got Russian Hands and Roman Fingers, and I don’t like foreigners!” Miss Delores will be delighted to know that her efforts were not in vain, particularly since I spent most of my time in Young Ladies sniggering at words like “untorward.”) The Todd went into a kind of a crouch and backpeddaled away from me like a hermit crab in the middle of a seizure.
Reason 9,003 Why I Must Love The Todd
I am only a witness here, but I must tell the dramatic story of how The Todd saved his family from the marauding black bear. We have a little cabin up on a river in the Uinta Mountains. Since it’s a one bedroom, we duct-tape the twins–ah, I mean we tenderly tuck in the twins–in there. The Todd and I sleep on the sofa pullout next to the big sliding glass door that leads to the deck and the river.
Now, when the bed’s out, my foot is about 6 inches from the door, which was open last night with only the screen to protect us from filthy nature. (So sue me, I hate mosquitos.) We were chatting idly when The Todd gave a roar, rose to his feet and did a crazy hand thing that looked straight out of “A Chorus Line.” “Get out!” he shouted as he raced across the room and slammed the sliding door shut. Only then did I look at out and see a huge black bear looking back in at me. “Aaaaaah!” I screamed, jumping up and down on the lumpy pullout mattress. “Aaaaah!” screamed The Todd as he continued to do what I can only describe as the Bear Repelling Jazz Hands. The bear (terrified, I’m sure) turned and ambled along our deck and out of sight.
We spent the rest of the night racing from window to window, certain the bear would be back to break in, peel the vinyl windows away and eat our children like sardines from a tin.
The bear did make a return today when my spouse and Z&M were off on an ATV ride. I looked out the window while washing the dishes to see the bear sampling from our hummingbird feeder. I didn’t have The Todd, I didn’t have the Bear Repelling Jazz Hands. My only weapon was the same tone I use on our twins when I catch them sneaking ice cream from the freezer.
“See here! You need to stop that right now.” I lectured, hands shaking so hard that I sounded like I was tapping a merengue on the counter, “you know that kind of diet can’t be good for you. Look at my thighs if you don’t believe me!” The bear shot me a look of fathomless contempt as he finished off the hummingbird juice (and feeder, but who’s counting) and wandered off again.
Thinking back on this now, I realize that my dear husband saw a bear RIGHT NEXT TO MY FOOT and raced across the room to save me, risking his own life in the process. I mean, the bear would have eaten me first. The Todd would have had plenty of time to get the twins and hide in the truck. But he raced torwards certain danger to save me. How COOL is this man? How brave? How impressive are his Bear Repelling Jazz Hands?
******************
An offical response from Todd:
“To all the guys who find themselves in this situation, be aware that the aftermath is not what you think. You have just scared a bear away from your family. Your adrenaline is pumping. And you are the Manliest Man In The World. You picture you and your spouse as a cover of a romance novel–shining and glistening in the evening light. But, this is not what it’s like. Erin went from hysteria to deep REM sleep in 20 minutes. Leaving ME, with all my masculinity…alone. In the darkened night. The rewards of Being Manly fall far short of one’s expectations.” Sincerely, Bear Chasing Todd
I am a Cozi.com convert!
You may remember when I suggested Cozi.com a week ago in the post about organizing and finding balance. This is an incredible, free option to every organizational tool that I’ve tried and failed at. I’ve set up a system to track interviews and show planning for our radio show…client meetings…promotional appearances…AND THEN tied them all into a fabulous color-coordinated scheduling system for home, doctor’s appointments, meetings, school calendars are included, shopping lists…
Living Green and Loving It! Part 3,006
Forgiveness
(Editor’s note: forgive ME if you’ve read this post before. I have two readers who wanted to borrow from it for church talks this week.)
My ex-boyfriend used to call me “Satan Claus” (see left) because of my ability to hold a grudge. Oh, believe me, I knew who’d been naughty and I KEPT A LIST, MISTER.
I didn’t get offended so much for myself (though I believe to this day that other drivers are put on the road just to annoy me) but for others that I loved. We’re Scottish, and my favorite quote is “The enemy of my friend is my enemy.” I hated the store clerk who was rude to my girlfriend Annika. I hated the lift operator at Snowbird’s slide ride who was a complete jerk to the little girls from Kenya because they didn’t know how to ride a ski lift. I mean, HELLO? They’re from A-F-R-I-C-A, they don’t have a lot of SKI LIFTS there, pal! And they’re 8! Way to yell at an eight-year old non-ski lift using kid from Africa! Geez! (Editor’s note: okay, that one was from today so I should get a pass on that.)
For author Corrie ten Boon, the ultimate lesson in forgiveness came at a very unexpected time. In her book “The Hiding Place,” she writes the following: It was at a church in Munich that I saw him, the former S.S. man who had stood guard at the shower room door in the processing center at Ravensbruck. He was the first of our actual jailers that I had seen since that time. And suddenly it was all there – the roomful of mocking men, the heaps of clothing, Betsie’s pain blanched face. He came up to me as the church was emptying, beaming and bowing. “How grateful I am for your message, Fraulein,” he said. “To think that, as you say, ‘He has washed my sins away’!” His hand was thrust out to shake mine. And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendaal on the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side. Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me and help me to forgive him. I tried to smile; I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again, I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give him Your forgiveness. As I took his hand, the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness, any more than on our goodness that the world’s healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.
“You are not being wholesome with me!”
I spent an extremely uncomfortable 30 minutes on the phone last night with a reporter from India. The Todd and I turned into the “go-to” media guys for the entire Western United States a couple of years ago by sheer accident. We taped an interview with the guys from REAL Madrid soccer team when they came to play an exhibition game with REAL Salt Lake. Here’s how weird news clips get: my Aunt Margene and Uncle Armand were touring the Nile River in Egypt when Auntie fell and hurt her foot. They were languishing in the dank ER of some generic riverside town when Uncle Armand turned on the tv to see the interview The Todd and I had taped for Spain…dubbed in French…on Egyptian tv from 2 years before.
For whatever reason, this apparently provides press credentials enough that whenever a small reporter from Egypt/Pakistan/Jordan and the Sudan (I’m not joking, I’m keeping pins on a map) want an interview and they can’t get a call back from a reputable news agency, they call us.
The latest was yesterday from a dignified individual named Kalal Nerurkar…a writer for a small paper in Vijayawada, India. He wanted to know, his email said, “about the Honored Personage of John Huntsman who will one day soon be Ambassador to Greater China.” Being that John Jr. had been Governer of Utah, and our twins went to pre-school with his daughter Gracie–sure! I was an expert!
I could tell from his first question that this interview was going to tank.
“How many wives does the Honorable Huntsman have?”
“Ah,” I said, “well, you know that polygamy was outlawed in the territory of Utah before we gained statehood back in the 1800’s, right?”
Disapproving silence.
“Will the other wives stay in the state of Utah?”
“No, seriously, Kalal, the Governer only has one wife. Just one. When he gains the appointment of US Ambassador to China, Mary Kay’s the only wife going with him.”
Triumphant leap: “then there ARE other wives who will stay home!”
I could feel the sweat start to trickle down my back, “no, I just meant that there’s only one Mrs. John Huntsman Jr. and she’ll be the one heading to China with the Ambassador.”
A disappointment came from Kalal so palpable that I could feel it over the crackling satellite phone. “You are not being wholesome with me,” he said sternly.
“What?”
Heavy sigh from my southwestern Indian news reporter. “Here, we have HBO.” he said pointedly.
“Okay.” I agreed cautiously.
“I have seen the ‘Big Love!’ I know of the ways of your province!” Kalal said majestically.
It was then that I knew my back sweat was the least of my problems. This poor reporter would never believe that Utah wasn’t a seething hotbed of insanely attractive women all married to the same prosperous man with movie star good looks and an unlimited supply of Viagra.
Cable television is responsible, I believe, for 90% of the world’s misconceptions about America. Everyone in western Cambodia is certain that California is one long stretch of movie stars and cocaine. If you live in the mountains of Nepal, you know that Texas is strewn with cattle and oil barons and their
blonde, alcoholic wives. There is no saving our national image as long as satellites continue the never-ending stream of size 2 fabulousness and gold-plated Mercedes that seem to personify the USA overseas. Isn’t there a way we can limit any international broadcasts to a continuous loop of the “Waltons?” Sure, none of us are that pure, but in this economy, we’re all that poor. At this point, perhaps pity would give us a better edge in the worldview than envy has.
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