During about a 4-hour period that I happened to be home, my doorbell rang FOUR times by solicitors. After I closed the door in exasperation for the 4th time, I went online and bought this sign:

Unless it’s a Girl Scout selling cookies or a student raising money for some worthy cause, I will not open my wallet. From religion-mongers to gardeners selling fertilizer to satellite TV sales reps, I feel like I’m constantly opening my door to people bombarding me with stuff that I’m not interested in buying. But that’s not the biggest problem. The problem is that I simply don’t like people disrupting my life at home. When I’m at home I’m either working, hanging out with my kid (or trying to get him to nap!), spending time with my husband, or simply relaxing…and I don’t like to be interrupted when I’m doing any of those things. It’s one thing with annoying telemarketers (did that Do Not Call Registry work for anyone?!?) because, thanks to caller ID, I never answer those calls. But it’s much harder to avoid the door-to-door salespeople. They know I’m home. My lights are on and they see my kid peering at them through the window and waving hello as if he knows them. Avoiding them is not an option.

What I find most ironic about the invasion of door-to-door salespeople on my block is that I moved to the SoCal ‘burbs for a quieter life. Yet I somehow got more peace and quiet in my high-rise apartment building in the bustling city of San Francisco. I guess when you no longer have a front door code or doorman to stop them, door-to-door salespeople will come a callin’.

I don’t mean to offend anyone who is a door-to-door salesperson. I know plenty of people who have gone door-to-door to sell everything from Avon to knives. Everyone needs a decent way to pay the bills. But if I’m looking to buy something, I go online or head to the store. The only time I think I need something when I really don’t is when I head to Bed, Bath & Beyond (did I really need those onion goggles?!?). That place is seriously dangerous for a wallet.

With a few pieces of industrial strength Velcro, I hung up my new sign last week. My doorbell has been silent since then…just the way I like it.

You know what RetailMeNot is, right? If you don’t, where have you been?!? It’s THE online resource for coupons and great deals. It’s also a wonderful company that supports women bloggers. Now they want to give 10 women bloggers full-conference passes for the BlogHer ’10 conference in New York City from August 6-7th.

If you want to take part in this exciting opportunity, make sure to apply by the April 18th deadline. They will announce the delegates on April 23rd.

Click HERE for the application form.

Good luck!

My new kicks! Hey, I might not be a runner yet, but at least I can look the part.

I love to exercise, but running was never something I enjoyed. I would only run when necessary, like when I was chasing a ball or dribbling one.  The other night I had a dream that I ran a marathon. I’m not quite sure what prompted a running dream all of a sudden. I’m surrounded by runners, especially on Facebook, but that never seemed to motivate me to kick up my heels.

Chances are, watching the images of the recent NYC Marathon entered my subconscious, which then forced its way into my dream zone.  I awoke early the next morning with an urge to run. And I did. I ran one mile. Two days later I ran another mile, 2 minutes shorter than the previous run.  I even went to my local running store last night and bought a new pair of shoes. If I whip out the credit card, you know I mean business.

Baby steps. A mile here and a mile there. I’ll try and run every other day and see how it goes. My goal? I hope to run a 5K within 2 months. From there, who knows. What I do know is this. It’s not so much about losing weight or looking good (although those stubborn last 10 pounds from pregnancy would not be missed). It really is about my health. I have a 2 year old that is all-boy. He loves to run and chase things, especially me. And one thing is for sure…I refuse to have a 2 year old kick my ass.

Are you a runner and have any tips? Please share!

Do these shoes go with my diaper bag?

Mama can always use a new pair of shoes, but I doubt I’ll be shopping for anything that looks like these fancy footwear.

I had to laugh when I clicked on the New York Times Opinion Section and saw this image. These shoes look like the equivalent of modern-day foot-binding.

There is no doubt that these shoes are absurdly fantastical but would any “everyday” woman actually wear them out and about? I’m hoping that these shoes were just for good show, but I’m sure there is always a daring Carrie Bradshaw of the world who will actually try and work them out.  I can’t imagine any sane (read: practical) woman would try and do so, let alone a Mama toting kids, toys, and a diaper bag around.

I love fashion just as much as the next Mama and, based on my DVR recordings,  I’m clearly addicted to Project Runway.  But, ever since I had a kid, it’s all about comfort. I can appreciate outrageous clothes and shoes as “art”, and that’s about it. You’ll never find this Mama struttin’ down the street like mother-of-three Victoria Beckham (mostly because I enjoy eating), but there’s a good chance you’ll find me in Banana Republic wearing flats.

Ran from the law and right into Hollywood's open arms.

The crime, and the aftermath, is enough to make any Mama sick.

We all know the details by now: Roman Polanski, an Oscar-winning movie director, fled to France in 1978 after he plead guilty to drugging and raping a 13-year old girl. Polanksi fled to France because he feared the judge in the case was going to back out of a plea bargain. Before he left the country, Polanski had served only 42 days in a California jail. When he moved to France, Polanski married a beautiful woman, had children, and continued to make brilliant award-winning movies.

As Polanski now sits in a Swiss jail awaiting a verdict on extradition back to the U.S., his representatives and even his victim are asking everyone to move on. His victim claims that she has forgiven Polanski, that she is over it, and that the media caused her more distress than the crime itself.  Roman Polanski’s  rep says that he has “paid his dues” and has suffered enough. Among the celebrities speaking out and signing a petition calling for Polanski’s exoneration are Woody Allen (ironic, much?), Martin Scorsese, Jonathan Demme, John Landis, Sam Mendes, Tilda Swinton, Monica Belluci, Harvey Weinstein, and Debra Winger, to name a few. Better yet, Whoopi Goldberg decidedly said that the crime wasn’t “rape-rape.” Would you care to elaborate on that one, Ms. Goldberg?

A 44 year old man drugging and raping a 13 year old is RAPE, plain and simple.

What is it with the “blame-the-victim” mentality that still circulates within our society, especially among the role models of Hollywood? It’s shameful to hear these assertions from anyone, let alone from powerful and strong women like Whoopi Goldberg. When Ms. Goldberg used the word “rape-rape”, she undermined one of the most horrible crimes that can be committed against anyone, especially against a young child. Some people are bringing up the horrible experiences of Roman Polanski’s  past  – escaping the Krakow Ghetto, his mother’s death in a concentration camp, and the murder of his pregnant wife – as some sort of justifiable explanation for his bad behavior.  There is no doubt that terrible personal experiences can lead people to commit their own terrible acts. But where is the responsibility for those actions? Where is the accountability? And where is the justice? If we excused all bad behavior based on sympathy alone, there would be no need for the prison system.

A young girl was drugged, sodomized, and raped and the criminal was never brought to justice. So what kind of message is sent to people when a celebrity is able to commit such a horrific crime but then move abroad to begin a wonderful new life without any consequences? Do celebrities actually believe that they are above the law?  Well, yeah, some actually do believe that to be true. From O.J. Simpson to Martha Stewart, we all know of a celebrity who has committed a crime. Some are brought to justice while others are golfing in Florida and writing books about how they would have murdered their ex-wife, but they really didn’t. Some celebrities will never own up to their crimes and take responsibility. Yet in this case, where the rapist actually admitted to the crime but did not serve the time, he is defended among some of the most powerful people around.

I  simply want to ask one thing of the people defending Roman Polanski:

If the 13 year old in question was your child, would you still feel the same way?

If you’re a parent, then you already know about the one thing that is universal among all infants and toddlers:

The remote control obsession.

Just like phones, the remote control is fascinating to small children. Perhaps the fascination only applies to American children as some prelude to countless hours of future TV watching. Whatever it is, I don’t know one kid that doesn’t want to start flipping through the channels practically straight from the womb.

When my then-infant started fighting me over the remote (hello, Real Housewives is on…sorry that it conflicts with Yo Yo Gabba) I knew that I needed a plan. I had seen giant remote controls in stores before, but always laughed them off as a genius idea for people with vision problems or a gag gift. I quickly realized that they’re even more brilliant than that. Giant remote controls are one of the best toys for small children.

Now, I know what you might be thinking: Um, don’t you prefer wooden, BPA-free, and all-together non-toxic toys?

Yes. However, enjoyable TV watching without fighting a child over the remote control calls for an exception. Two things to remember: don’t put batteries in the damn thing and make sure the kid doesn’t chew on it. Problem solved.

Back to your regularly scheduled program…

my cookie

I recently celebrated both my birthday and my wedding anniversary with The Dude.  Our anniversary is the day before my birthday. Therefore, we celebrate an annivirthday. We’ve now been married 4 years, I am 33 years old, and I am none the wiser.

I want a cookie.

I really don’t like bumper stickers.

I don’t care about your Alma Mater, even if it’s the same as mine. I don’t care that you’re pro-life or pro-choice . I don’t want to see the equivalent of a gravestone on your rear window or that you clearly love Papas and Beer (why are those stickers always lopsided?). I also don’t care to know that you voted for Bush/Cheney back in 2004 (you really want to advertise that one?) or that you actually think Palin has a shot in 2012. The only clear shot Palin has is directly aimed at a moose.

However, my biggest issue with bumper sticker trends is anything related to family, especially those ridiculous stick figure families. The ones with names drive me especially crazy.

Why?

Well, because just like the “My Child is an Honor Student at ABC Elementary” and “Baby on Board” stickers, I don’t care for advertising family. I think it’s a big risk to let strangers know where your kid goes to school or that you have an infant in the car. I don’t care about who is in your car or the names of your kids, but you know who might? The neighborhood pedophile. The sex offender that lives in your area. The criminally insane person that decides to follow you home from the store. The jerk on the freeway who you accidentally cut off and is now driving behind you in a threatening and aggressive manner. Yeah. I really don’t want those people to know that I’m a part of the Smith household, I have three children (Jack, Jane, and Jill), two dogs, and my kids go to such-and-such school.

The bottom line is this: there are crazy and dangerous people in the world. And the less they know about you and your family, the better.