Gluten Free Writing

The great thing about writing is that you get to take life's challenges, and turn them into opportunities for assignments! My article "Gluten Free Dining in the Bay Area" in June's Parents' Press newspaper is an example of this. Having a son who is gluten free, I've become a reluctant expert on where to dine without wheat. But I also learned a lot about Celiac disease as I researched this article, so it added to my conversation today with my son's doctor at his yearly physical.

So now we get to decide if we want an official Celiac diagnosis, which would mean putting him back on gluten, having a blood test, and possibly an endoscopy, and if in fact he does have Celiac disease, or is just gluten intolerant, we would just end up back where we are now- avoiding gluten. I'm not sure if it's worth all that, but we'll see.

For now, I'm just grateful for all the food options we have that are gluten free.

Mama Monologues this Saturday

I'll be doing a reading in this year's Mama Monologues. It will be a fun night of short essays and blogs being read by the Writing Mamas to help support Alanna DeSalvo, a Novato teen who had a pool accident and now is in a wheelchair.

Event information:
The Mama Monologues - "Mother's Day Night Out!"

Saturday, May 9, 2009

6 - 9 p.m.

Unity in Marin, 600 Palm Drive (Hamilton Center), Novato

$20 Per Person Donation ($30 per couple) includes yummy Writing Mamas-made food, savory and sweet, along with the best kind of whine -- wine, wine, wine!!!!!!

Mothers' Night Out! You're a goddess. A queen. This is your night to leave the kids at home, go out and enjoy some well-deserved laughs. The Writing Mamas will perform their popular "Mama Monologues," a high-energy, LOL performance of their blogs and essays about REAL MOTHERHOOD. Spouses and friends are welcome!

Profits from the event will help benefit the Alanna DeSalvo Recovery Project (www.alannadesalvo.org) to pay for rehabilitation bills not covered by insurance for this Novato teen who suffered a spinal cord injury and is now paralyzed.

Directions: Heading north on 101, take the Hamilton Field/Nave Dr. Exit, veering Right onto Nave Drive. Turn Right on Main Gate Road, continue Left on Palm Dr. Unity is on the left, with parking lots on either side.
Heading south on 101, take the Bel Marin Keyes Blvd/Hamilton Field exit onto Ignacio Blvd. toward Bel Marin Keys/Hamilton Field. Right on Nave Drive. Left on Main Gate Road, continue Left on Palm Dr. Unity is on the left.

The Writing Mamas Salon is a warm, encouraging and supportive place for members to talk about motherhood and writinghood and to have a neighborhood in which to do both. There is much laughter and friendship. It's the ultimate mothers' club, and this is the ultimate evening for mothers to come out, enjoy themselves and have fun. Mothers -- you deserve it!!! For further information go to www.writingmamas.com or contact Dawn Yun, 415.233.2483, or dawnyun@writingmamas.com.

Author Kelly Corrigan

My favorite authors are those that invite you into their lives to become one of their family members, friends, or loved ones for the duration of the book. Kelly Corrigan is one of these authors. I had the pleasure of hearing her speak at Book Passage today. She is even funnier, smarter, and wittier in person, with her book The Middle Place having already set a very high standard.

Because her book magically weaves tales of cancer, being a parent while also having parents, and lots of humor, she had us all crying and laughing. The majority female audience continued to grow as she spoke. At one point I counted ninety people or so, but more kept arriving (and staying.)

She asked those who have had or currently have cancer to stand so we could support them, and at least fifteen people stood. One was a woman, thirty years old or so, sitting in front of me with a knit black hat covering her bare head. All I had to do was see her wiping tears, and then I was done for.

When Kelly read, she kept interrupting herself to tell us back stories, or follow-ups, which were just as hilarious or touching as the material she was reading. It was like getting the director’s commentary on a movie.

But overall, from hearing her talk and reading her book, what I came away with is the optimism that she shares with her father. It’s contagious, and you come away wanting to be a better person. “I’m so lucky,” she says, and you can’t help but believe her.

I feel that anyone who is a parent, has parents, grew up Catholic (or Irish-American), has been touched by cancer, or even knows someone who is any of these things will find themselves relating to and laughing at her self-effacing stories. I limited myself to buying only three additional copies for friends.

To see her touching video that has become viral (in a good way) click here.

Taking Flight

I had a vivid dream years ago in which I was able to fly in my fish tank. Technically this would be swimming, I know, but it was different- I could fly underwater.

According to a dream book I read years ago, flying symbolizes freedom from constraints. As for flying in airplanes, to me it means a new opportunity for travel and adventure. Of course, air transport is much different with two young sons. Gone are the days of watching a movie in its entirety, losing myself in a good book, or, one of my favorite past activities on a plane- sleeping.

There are advantages too- while you walk the aisles with your young ones, you get to meet all the child-friendly people on the plane, meanwhile finding out who would rather not have a toddler pat his lap to say hello. Actually, I'm always surprised how few in number the child-unfriendlies are.

In a few months we will board a plan to Sweden, where we'll do a house swap with a friend. Not only does this help out with the cost of traveling, but since we have kids around the same age, both families get to experience "new" toys! But just to be sure their favorite toys aren't left behind, my boys have already packed their mini backpacks for the trip. They get this planning ahead gene from their father, I'm pretty sure.

Speaking of Scandinavia, sons, and flying, a friend of mine recently sent me an e-mail titled, "The boy stuff us Moms go gray over." This video make me think back to my flying dream, and for a second, I wanted to join these dare-devil young guys jumping off cliffs in Norway and flying. Or at least I could go see them in action. But my next thought stopped me- I don't want my boys to see this. I'd rather them stick to jumpy houses with confined, padded floor and walls for now.

Here's the video, and happy flying:
http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1778399&server=vimeo.com&amp

"P" Words

I’m happy to share that an article I wrote, "Good Day Sunshine" is in this month’s Common Ground magazine. It's about celebrating the Winter Solstice and was a fun topic to research and write about.

When I was working on it though, the fates seemed to be playing with me.

I summarize with the following “P” words:

Procrastination- I was determined to not do this, I wanted to get it done early. My plan, another “P” word, was to submit it to the editor an impressive week ahead of the due date since I already had some of the interviews completed. Thankfully I started early because,

Pinkeye- took hold of our family two weeks before the article was due. That meant laundry, laundry, and more laundry to try to avoid its spread, though spread it did anyway. It also meant both boys were home from school, but on different days as my eldest got it first, then my youngest. So the precious time I had planned to write was suddenly lost. And then of course, I caught it as well!

Potty Training- my youngest decided he was suddenly ready to enter the world of big boy underwear. No more diapers, only colorful briefs with fire trucks or comic heroes would do. We praised him of course, and it worked out since he was home sick and we could run to the potty at any time. But did I mention laundry? I think we’re up to twelve loads (no joke) by this time. Of course other "P" words apply under this topic as well.

Panic- Since a solid stretch of writing wasn't happening during the day, I sat down at the computer at 10:30 p.m., my official muse time. No sooner had my fingers hit the keyboard to put the finishing touches on the article, when my youngest cried out in pain, “Mama, my ear hurts!” Of course he wanted me to be with him, and I wanted to be there. So there I lay, and ultimately slept, asking the gods to help me get my article done the next day.

Publication- in the end I did get it done. Not a week early as I’d planned, but on the contracted date nonetheless. Having a plan to finish early was probably the best thing I could have done.

It was certainly a humbling experience to not have time I could count on, and I'm grateful for my husband who helped during the evenings and weekends so I could escape. But having a challenging time to create this piece ultimately made the final product that much more dear. (Analogy to parenting and childbirth anyone?)

So, back to the topic, do you have plans to celebrate the Winter Solstice?

Wanna Ride?

After a local community meeting, a fellow member asked if I could give her a ride home. As we walked to the car, we spoke mama stats: she had two boys, five and eight years old. I belong to the boy club as well, ages two and four.

I always feel a bond with other mothers of boys. I asked how the five and eight-year-old stage is. The prognosis was good. I like it when people with kids older than mine say it gets better. I dislike those people that tell you it's still hard, just different. I don't mind if you lie to me, just tell me it gets better and easier, please!

As we get to my car, she says, "Cute!" as I have a butterfly pasted on the butt of the car. But as I look in the passenger seat, I realize there is a few days' worth accumulation of definitely not cute stuff. I know she's a mom, so I remind myself not to worry too much, but I tell her it's going to take a while to clear the seat so she can actually sit on it, hopefully finding a place for her feet as well.

I take off the first layer - everything we needed for a dinner at our favorite Thai food restaurant that night. A cooler-type bag of supplemental dinner options for the kids, two jackets of mine, one for each of the kids. I throw them into the back. The next layer was from my art class the day prior -- paper bags laid out to protect the seats from wet paint and a box of art supplies. They find their spot, sitting in the empty car seats in the back.

I'm finally down to the final layer. This was from three days prior when I got to my son's preschool in the morning and realized it was freezing cold and wet, and my son was in a short-sleeved shirt. This fact should have been noticed before we left the house, but somehow escaped my mommy radar until that moment. So I emptied the diaper bag, which had been recently organized, and pulled out all the extra clothes until I found a long-sleeved shirt for him to wear, pulling it over his head and finished dressing him in the parking lot.

As I tossed back the tighty whities (thankfully clean, these were from the spare clothes) of my four-year-old, along with unused diapers, jeans, shirts, and socks, she said honestly, "I guess you don't drive with other people very often."

I laughed. "Only my kids."

Shoot!

The funny thing about motherhood is that there is no warning when some mommy challenge is on its way.

They just sneak up and surprise you, like one did to me when I picked up my son from preschool. It was 101 degrees outside and my head felt foggy as I noticed my sons’ red cheeks and wet hair from perspiration. I was trying to take a sip of water to cure my headache. It was then, with my two boys playing in a shaded spot we’d named the “magic tree” that my four-year-old used “the word” for the first time.

Gun.

He had broken a stick and said, “I’m going to shoot something with my gun, bang, bang!” My mind raced. What is the appropriate response to this? Before I could say anything, he turned the stick/gun towards me and said, “Now I’m shooting you!”

There was no malice or anger in his voice, just amusement with this new activity. I told him that we never aim guns, real or not, at people, only at non-living things. He asked if he could shoot the sky.

“No,” I replied, thinking back to the posters they have in L.A. bus stations around New Year’s urging people not to shoot their guns into the air as stray bullets can kill. I explained the physics of bullets and why we didn’t want to aim up.

Although I don’t like guns and think they are too numerous and easily accessible in our country, I loved shooting BB guns when I was young. My granddad would let us shoot them into the pillows in his living room. Maybe not the safest thing, but we had a great time doing it.

As my son got into the car, he said that he was going to shoot the seats. Not knowing what else to say, I told him, “I don’t like hearing about shooting. We can send each other love and energy instead.”

I am, after all, an energy practitioner. But I was aware that my words fell flat.

On the way home, he asked me to tell him stories about the magical train forest. He enjoys interjecting “train crises” – “Mom, look out, there’s a broken bridge!”

“Oh no,” I replied, “What are we going to do?” He sat for a moment and answered, “We’re going to shoot sticky balls from the gun!”

Shoot sticky balls at the bridge? Of course! They would fill in the gaps in the bridge, like glue, so the train could continue. At last, something I could agree to. Happily, I told him that it was a great idea.

Thankfully he hasn’t mentioned guns since. Maybe I should start preparing for questions about where babies come from. I'm hoping those questions will be easier.