After more than a decade of writing my heart out here on The Mommy Blog, it’s time to pack it lovingly in mothballs, read it a poem, and chuck it into the attic where it can be visited from time to time with some effort but will also be preserved and protected and available to be reanimated at some future date.

Right now, all my time is consumed by the creation and launch of  Globiana.com, a new business and networking site to support foreign-born women who are new to the US either through relocation, or as trailing spouses, or students, etc. I invite you to visit, oh, in about 10 days, as we launch on May 20, 2013. For now you can leave your email so we can send you an invite when we’re ready.

For some time I’ve known that I haven’t been paying as much attention to this blog for a number of reasons. Y’all already know that my new blended family situation is not conducive to the hard-hitting, insightful stories and opinions as before. Trust me, it’s worth it. I’d trade happiness any day for being a successful, relevant mommy blogger. Ten years is a pretty good run for the person who coined the term in the first place. Also, this new startup has far greater potential to fund my far-off but fondly anticipated retirement, which I intend to spend with my beloved husband flitting around the world, sending postcards describing our whereabouts back to our six children (not envelopes, as they have the potential to hold cash).

So! Thank you all for the company. I’ve updated my Contact page so no one continues to feel ignored. I am responsive if messages are relavant, less so if they are about things I have never in ten years even thought about let alone written about. Shame on you for not doing research.

Someday there will be archives available (actually they are now, as I haven’t gotten around to making this post a single splash page replacing the barnyard explosion that this site has become.

You have my heart, and I’d like it back someday but hold onto it for now; you’ve done a nice job with it so far.

See you at Globiana!

P.S.

I’d have included the logo but this site has fallen into disrepair and I will be lucky to get this message posted. It already doesn’t accept images, and only intermittent access. I had to jimmy open a basement window to get in here in the first place. I may not be able to get back.

We could be doing anything—usually nothing—when that small knock and even smaller voice comes once you’ve settled down in bed after the last tuck-in. We will hear it, and freeze. And look at each other. And glare. And I silently thank the gods that it’s not my kid. Fact: the one who just won’t shut up during the day and shouts every fleeting thought as if you were deaf will have the tiniest, softest voice on the other side of that door. All day long? Pandemonium. After lights-out? A feeble, “Please, sir, may I come in, sir?”

Sometimes we let that first request go. If we can’t hear distinct words and they don’t ask again, we’re in the clear. No harm, no foul. But it’s the repeated knocking and the every-fourth-word clarity that drives us up the wall.

*knockknockknock*

“Dad? Dad? Um, my arm [mumblemumble] the music’s [mumblemumblemumble] tell him to quit it?”

“What the hell?”

“Sounds like someone’s still listening to music and he can’t fall asleep.” Sigh. Deep breath, and then “OK, I’ll be right there. Give me a minute.”

“Think he’ll notice if we just go to sleep?”

“Give it a sec.”

*knockknockknock*

“Dad? [mumblemumblemumble] about my arm?”

“His arm? What’s wrong with his arm?”

“No idea.” Louder, “I’ll get you some Advil.” Then to me, “Eventually.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just picturing his arm bent at five angles and us telling him to just splint it for now.”

“Make a traction bar out of Legos.”

“‘What about my head wound?’ Just hold the edges together. Patience.”

“Can you look it up on WebMD? Borrow your brother’s iPod, he’s not supposed to be using it anyway.”

“Look up the body diagram and the symptom checker and get back to me.”

“Just don’t let the dog lick it.”

“Don’t you have like sixteen pillows? Staunch it.”

“Look up ‘staunch.’ Websters.com.”

Now we’re giggling and haven’t heard any more knocking. We’ve hit a new water mark for indifferent parenting.

“You know, staying up with you past ten is like a lounge show. Before then, you’re fairly serious, but after… Jesus.”

“Hey, that’s your kid out there bleeding to death. Or being eaten by dingos.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” I heard rustling, a drawer slamming, the fridge opening, and then the bedroom door opening and closing again. No sign of the child, but my husband’s clutching two ice cream bars.

We win.

And the results are in! We scoured the Bay Area for the best mommy blogs – you’ll notice we have some repeats from 2012′s edition of Best Blogs in the Bay Area - and we’re happy to announce that after a heated discussion over too many vanilla lattes we’ve narrowed it down to what we think are the best mommy blogs in the Bay Area for 2013.

So without further adieu [sic] . . . We’re so lucky to have so many great mommy bloggers in the Bay Area who are willing to share their personal stories, favorite spots and family-friendly activities! Thank you to everyone who responded to 2013′s call-out for Best Blogs, stay in touch for next year!

 

Second: I believe this is the longest time I’ve gone between posts—over a month—since 2002. You know, when I was posting on Anglefire (remember Lycos?). I don’t have a solid reason other than the fact that the last year has been totally transforming for me. I got married, suddenly have three stepsons (our total remains steady at five boys and one girl), totally shifted my focus from blogging (which, frankly, has jumped the shark for me and pays beans compared to the heyday.), to writing books, consulting, and now, helping to build a startup. No, I can’t talk about that other than to say: even if it doesn’t become wildly successful, get bought, and make me a millionaire, I’ll have contributed something to my fellow moms that has redeeming social value.

Also, it’s exciting. I have NO idea what things will be like in three weeks, let alone three months or years, but then as my husband has observed with horror and fascination, I have an unusually high tolerance for ambiguity. And a very low level of fear. That’s been knocked out of me over the years; read through the archives and see why nothing frightens me anymore. Except stepping on Legos. I hate stepping on Legos, especially in the shower. It’s just wrong.

So, in Post #2,991 of The Mommy Blog, in the year of our Lord 2013, I’m right back where I was before I had children: a little confused, a lot eager to try something new, and totally unable to predict the content of the future but I feel pretty good about the quality.

Thanks for hanging in there, the four of you who still read regularly after over a decade. You’re just damaged enough to make me love you, and for you to be able to tolerate me. It seems we’ve moved the lovefest over to Facebook, and for that I’m a bit sorry but that’s where everyone is. There are millions of blogs but only one Facebook. The status quo is not its own justification, however comfortable it’s become. Plus, invitations to giveaways! (KIDDING. I hate giveaways. Loathe them. Please never, ever invite me to another giveaway or sweepstakes.)

I’ll keep this nest warm for a while yet, though it may exist primarily as an archive of insanity, and as testament should I ever find myself in deep psychiatric or legal trouble. No jury would convict me, as least not a jury of my peers. Just look around; there’s millions of us. We’re all damaged, but still standing.

Cue me: Struggler Par Excellence. Maryl invited me on to her radio talk show to learn more about what it’s like to divorce with children and how to do it as best we can. Of course, we dicussed my book, 42 Rules for Divorcing with Children: Doing It with Dignity & Grace While Raising Happy, Healthy, Well-Adjusted Children. Thanks to you all it’s been selling really well, especially the Kindle version! Woot! Science camp for the kids!

Take a listen to our interview and to some of the others – I’m really enjoying working my way through them.

Meryl says:

No parent wants to end their marriage or relationship, but it happens. A lot. About 40% of marriages with children end in divorce. So it’s likely that you or someone you know and love will have to co-parent through this challenging time. What’s the best way to handle the situation for our kids? And how do we find the strength to find that higher ground? My guest this week is blogging pioneer Melinda Roberts, author of 42 Rules for Divorcing With Children. She’s a child of divorce, has herself been through two divorces, and is now successfully raising children in a re-married blended household. She’s been there and, during our interview, she shares her hard earned knowledge. Even if you are not facing the challenge of separation or divorce, there’s some great parenting tips in this episode that you won’t want to miss.

For those of you who want to share your own tips or seek advice for parenting after divorce, let’s continue the conversation on my blog at PlaydatePlanet.com.

Fact: There is nothing more entertaining than watching a Mormon producer trying to mic a gal wearing a short dress. That receiver and mic setup—the size of a pack of cigarettes— has to be clipped to a waistline and a neckline; in her case, to undies and a bra. That poor man. I let it go on for a few minutes before volunteering to help. Right there in front of everyone, I reached up her dress, clipped that sucker to her thong, kept feeding the wire up and around to her bra, and then clipped the mic there. And then we sat down and started the interview. Maybe that’s what we were laughing about here.

At any rate, I was thrilled to hear that she’d gone back to standup to do a bit for Cafe Mom. I’d never seen her act before (if you don’t count all the bits that ended up on the cutting room floor at Momversation), so it was a special treat to see this clip of a lineup of female comics that also happen to be moms. She thought it went well.

I thought it was Muffinlicious.

They should make a pill that calms kids down.

—8-year-old boy

Get a load:

1. Pop-up tape. I used the cheap, shiny stuff that folded on itself every time I tried to pull off a piece. And I cut my thumb. Two red cards right there. Plus? Refills.
2. A goddamned zebra-striped, stiletto-heeled tape dispenser. That right there wins Best PR Sample Ever.
3. Scissors I fully intend to hide from the kids.
4. Stick-on hooks and holders, which will be used to stick lamp cords to the wall so I don’t go through a bulb a week with the kids tripping on them and crashing the bulb to the ground.
5. A brushed stainless stick-on hook. I repeat: brushed stainless. Steven better start hanging up those pajama bottoms or I’m not buying him any more psycho squirrel merchandise.
6. Magenta tape, which stands on its own.
7. And the Pièce de résistance, pink and white polka-dot shipping tape. I guarantee all her brothers’ stocking stuffers will be completely re-wrapped with this magical stuff. Mummified. Cocooned. Best thing short of steel bands.

No one paid me to say any of this. I am just sitting here thinking how cool it is, which gives you an indication of how much I get out. Plus, if I get moving soon, I can have the house renovated before the in-laws show up tomorrow. Pretty!

Now I just need to make room on my desk and create a shield to hide this stuff from the kids or I’ll find one of them duct-taped to the wall over Xmas vacation.