Back When We Knew It All

January 29th, 2009

Poetry scares me.  It’s naked writing.  I prefer to dig in, cozy and safe, under layers of prose.  On the rare occasion that I do write a poem, I stick to the basic rhyme, a simple AABB, farce and ode, feebly mocking the terrifying genre with my poorman’s attempts at it.

I flinched when this week’s observations about balance wanted to surface as a poem, but one of my creative goals for the year, and the blog, is less self-censorship.  SO, I’m breathing deep and clicking publish.  It’s as yet untitled, but I’m thinking  New Associates at a Seminar.
Read the rest of this entry »

What’s next?

January 29th, 2009

Every day I read the headlines, and I get a little more depressed about the affairs of the nation.  But this is inconceivable. 

Starting Over

January 27th, 2009

Patient and enduring readers of Mommy Tracks know that in the summer of 2007, at the urging of my friend Dana, I got drunk and ran ten miles.   I felt great.  I lost weight.  I -almost- became friends with my longtime foe, “Running”.  2007 was a great year for my physical health. 

In 2008, on the heels of that run, Dana trained for and completed her first marathon.  I avoided her encouragement and chose a different path: Quit exercising, eat more, and race quickly back to my starting weight.  I was equally successful.

Accordingly, now that it’s 2009, I decided it was time to once again take control of my physical health.  Yesterday, I officially joined Weight Watchers Online.  I find the Weight Watchers rules a little confusing.  More points bad, fewer points good. Like golf (another sport that hates me).  I maintain I should get MORE and not FEWER points for good behavior.  I also find the measurements a little ridiculous.  Who can eat a 1/2 cup of cold cereal?  I am going to need some smaller cereal bowls.  Overall, though, I like the idea of accountability. It’s like an electronic sticker chart, and I love sticker charts almost as much as I hate running.

Besides the healthy living, I’m also resolved, resigned?, to keep blogging.  What’s on your sticker chart for ‘09?

Breaking Dawn: The Worst Ending Since Pretty in Pink

January 22nd, 2009

Please be advised this post and its links contain spoilers of the books in the Twilight Series.  

I should have loved Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight books.  I love a pop culture phenomenon, and I love young adult novels.  I love hot, tortured, misunderstood leading men who brood.  Given the choice between a high school romance (especially if it involves a nerdy girl with inner beauty discreetly disguised by big glasses, poor fashion sense or, like Bella, klutziness of dangerous proportions), and award-winning storytelling, well, I’ll tune in to the former on Oxygen seven nights per week.  I love seeing teenage girls read, especially with their mothers!  And I love a fairy tale.  I *should* have loved Twilight.

But I did not love it.  In fact, I hated it.  I hated every minute of every page-turning, addictive book.  For this, I blame motherhood.

Like many maligned bestsellers, the books earned their share of literary criticism, much of it legitimate. Reviewers denounced poor editing, slow development, and mediocre writing.  Fans of vampire lore balked at the undoing of the genre in the name of schmaltzy romance.  Feminists decried a thinly veiled pro-marriage, pro-life agenda with questionably violent love scenes.  Even the pop friendly found the fantastic resolution of the series over the top.

I appreciate these critics’ articulate analysis, but my hatred was more personal.  I can set aside my feminist principles in the name of a good fairytale.  I can forgive simple sentence structure.  (Indeed, I love simple sentence structure.)  But as I read the books, as I tried to channel the teenage girl within and crush on the mysterious guy in the cafeteria, I couldn’t.  Reading this series I transformed.  I lost my romantic fourteen year-old and found in her place a cynical, skeptical creature.  I hated the books because I spent the entire series arguing with Bella in my head.  Like I was her mother.

For example, in Book 1 – Twilight

Me:   What’s a dude who’s hundreds of years old doing falling in love with a seventeen year old girl?  It’s creepy. Is he some sort of pedophile?

Bella: Love knows no age. Plus, he’s so hot.  And I LOVE him.

Me: I might buy it if you can please just explain *why* you love him?

Bella: Because, even though he feels like cold marble, he’s SO HOT.  It’s very ironic.

Me: Ok, Alanis, but really, what about him, why does he love you? There must be some explanation for why he fell in love for the first time in several centuries with you.

Bella: He can’t figure out what I’m thinking. It turns him on.

Me: Oh, yes, you’re  a real mystery.

Or, in Book 2: New Moon

Me:  I see Edward is gone.  Jacob’s lovely, you know, and also mostly human.  That could work.

Bella: I can’t stop thinking about Edward.

Me: Please, please, please stop thinking about Edward. It’s for the best. You cannot give everything up and join the undead. It doesn’t work that way.

Bella: Guess what! Edward’s back.

Me: Crap.

Book 3: Eclipse

Me: I know Edward is back and everything, but, really what about Jacob?  He’s nice, and you know, human.

Bella: He’s just a really good friend.

Me: You know, you’re supposed to marry the friend.  You’re not supposed to marry the hot, tortured, undead guy.  Please don’t marry the undead guy. I cannot believe that you could end up married to the vampire.  No, it’s all wrong.

Bella: I don’t want to marry Edward.  I’m too young.

Me: Finally, you’re speaking some sense.

Bella:  But I have to marry him.  Otherwise, he won’t have sex with me, and I am so horny.

Me: Oh COME on, what kind of game is this guy playing?  Seriously.

Or, the worst of it, in Book 4-

Me:  Fine, you married him.  I’ll deal with that.  Just please promise me you won’t let him turn you into a vampire and leave your parents and humanity behind.  Please go to college.

Bella: Don’t worry, I won’t let him turn me into a vampire. At least, not until after I walk to the edge of death bearing his monster spawn.  Who knew I could get pregnant from sex?!  Crazy.   Anyway, no worries, I’ll have all of eternity to go to college when I’m a vampire.  I’ll also sparkle.

It’s still overworked and underappreciated.

October 7th, 2008

My minivan wants to die.  I can’t blame it, really. Also, I still haven’t managed to post. 

Related to both issues, I’ll cheat today and visit the Mommy Tracks archives. 

The lights are on, and I am home.

September 30th, 2008

In my new office, at my new desk, if I sit idly for too long, everything goes black. The bright fluorescent lights in here run by motion detection.  If I sit still for too long the office sends me a message.  You’re not doing anything.  It says. Do something. Are you even in here?  The darkness snaps me out of my daydream. I wave an arm to summon the light, and I settle back in to working.

Over the last month, while I have been learning a new job and facing new stages with my children, Mommy Tracks has been dark.  Today, though, the Blogosphere spoke to me.  Reminded me I’m here.  I am delighted to report that the fine editors at Blog Nosh magazine have published an essay I wrote last year about the fear and excitement that accompany taking your oldest child to Kindergarten.  If you found me from Blog Nosh, welcome.  I am waving my arm, and I will be settling back in to blogging soon.