Tuesday, February 2, 2010

A Blog is Born

Before I begin, it should be noted that names have been changed to protect the guilty.

I phoned two people for their advice when I impulsively thought about starting a blog. Granted, I already had my mind made up, which is a typical practice: Make a decision and then call people who you think will validate you and tell you how innovative and strategic you are. And with any plan, it doesn't always turn out that way , but I have a knack for picking up signs to support my decisions.

So I called my brother first. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Hey turd, it's your sister."

Turd: "Make it fast, I am helping Junior Turd get ready for school."

Me: "Do you think I should start a blog?"

Turd: "About what?" Cut to background noise: Junior Turd yelling about lost shoes.

Me: "Oh, I don't know. About my being a mother, and the advice I can give to other mothers out there." (My husband was taking our two year old to the nanny's which gave me a well deserved moment to reflect on my many mom accomplishments.)

Turd: "Well, Sis, you know very little about that subject. How about what not to do as a mother?"

Me: "Thanks, bye. Just make sure you send me some good clip art for my webblog."

Here's how my second call went with my cousin from Colorado:

Carilee: "Are you drunk dialing me again?"

Me: "It's 8 a.m. in the morning. I am driving into work."

Carilee: "Well, we are talking about you, aren't we?"

Me: "Do you think I should start a blog?"

Carilee: "Most definitely. It could be about the nuances of parenting. The things people don't talk about, like how am I supposed to respond when my sister shoves $36 dollars down my son's pants (Her son - we will call him Chatty - is 4 years old).

And for the next 20 minutes, Carilee told me how she had discovered the $36 bucks - she was putting Chatty to bed and as she changed him out of his clothes and into his pjs, a twenty, a ten, a five and a one came pouring out of his fly. When asked where this small fortune had come from, Chatty just smiled and said, "Auntie Downtown." She then explained to Chatty that they needed to give the money back, that Auntie Downtown probably needed it. Chatty agreed but was adamant about keeping hold of the one dollar bill.

In the span of a car ride into work which entailed the aforementioned phone calls (hands free, voice initializing, of course - yes, Oprah, I signed the No Fiddle Farting around on your phone while driving Pledge), my blog was born.

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