Lost interest

How long can the creators of Lost expect us to wait to find out what the heck is going on with Jack and Sawyer and Kate and the Others and the polar bears and the black smoke and the hatch? Indefinitely, they presume. But they're wrong. Lost is on a 12-week hiatus--the next new episode doesn't air until February. And frankly, I'm not sure I can wait that long.

I think Adam Sternbergh of NY Magazine was onto something in his article "Never-Ending Stories: How to fix shows like Lost." His November 13 article suggested that these kind of shows--these drama, suspense, mystery shows--need an ending when they first begin. Instead of being an open-ended show, "we need the TV equivalent of a novella: the limited-run show." These Lost-type series "driven by a central mystery (Twin Peaks, The X-Files) peter out precisely because they have indefinite life spans. The writers are forced to serve up red herrings until the shows choke on their own plot twists," wrote Sternbergh. Perhaps if there was an end from the beginning, we wouldn't have 12-week breaks. And fans wouldn't be abandoning the show in droves.

This 12-week break is the Lost equivalent to the summer break, another thing I still don't understand about television. Last time I checked, people like to watch television year-round, and we don't like watching reruns. Come on TV executives. Can't you come up with any new material to keep our interest all year long?

I don't have time

A few days ago, NPR was airing an hour's worth of Perspecitives. The topic was choices and how our choices affect our lives, for better or for worse.

At one point the host of the show was ad-libbing about choices. His example was about a writer. He said that the writer who never got around to writing that novel shouldn't complain that they never could find the time. It's not that the writer couldn't find the time--the writer didn't make the time. Everything we do, every choice we make is a trade-off for something else.

That really hit home. Many times I've commented on Bethany's blog that I don't know how she does it. How she manages to work and raise her family and blog and write and re-write and edit her novels and shop them around to book agents. In a recent email exchange about her writing projects I wrote:

I read about your rewrite after rewrite and the little-to-no sleep. I cannot live on four hours of sleep a night. I really don't know if I could live on seven hours a night ;-) I need lots of sleep. I used to joke when I was in college that I'd sleep when I was dead. But really, if I don't sleep enough, my family would be dead. There is no way I could keep everyone alive if I wasn't well enough rested, or at least sort of rested.

And that is my choice, for better or for worse. I have chosen sleep over my writing projects. I have chosen to sit with Father in Chief and watch a little mind-numbing television before bed. I have chosen to have my kids with me everyday--although I'm in the process of getting Toddler in Chief into some kind of preschool. My choices have kept me in denial. I say to myself that I haven't been able to find the time to really hunker down and get to work. When really, I haven't made the time. To be clear, it's not that I'm never writing. It's just that I'm not into a writing routine that would actually produce meaningful results. I do a little here and a little there, but I haven't carved out chunks of time just for working.

The same is true of so many things in my life. Not just my writing. There's all those emails to friends I've never replied to. There's all my photographs locked away on my hard drive. There's all those calls I've been meaning to make. My excuse is often the same--there was this and that, and, well, life got in the way. But did it really? I doubt that I couldn't find the time. Really I just chose to use my time in other ways, for better or for worse.

But when it comes down to it, I'm the only one to blame for my choices.

Blog Book Tour: Green Eggs and Ham Cookbook

For as long as I can remember, Toddler in Chief has been an active participant in the workings of our kitchen. When he was too wee to put forks and napkins on the table, he was right there observing. Perched in his bouncy chair on top of the counter, he'd get to touch the smooth skin of red and green peppers, smell vanilla for baking or basil for pesto, and watch me as I chopped, measured, and mixed. As he grew, he would sit on the floor behind me with measuring cups and wooden spoons. Eventually he was put in charge of getting cans from the pantry and picking which pasta shape to cook.

Books have also been a big part of our lives. We started reading together not long after he came home from the hospital. Now that he's bigger, we combine our love of food and the joy of books. We often browse through cookbooks, look at the pictures, talk about what we'd like to eat and what ingredients must be added to our shopping list in order to make them.

Now there is a cookbook that is much more fun for him to look at than our regulars, like Vegan with a Vengeance, the Enchanted Broccoli Forest, or Lean, Luscious, and Meatless. The Green Eggs and Ham Cookbook is 42 recipes inspired by the illustrations and words in Dr. Seuss stories. The spiral-bound book is big, colorful and packed with pictures and excepts from the Seuss classics. If you ever wondered what "Blueberry Bumplings" or "Glunker Stew" would taste like, here's your chance. Other recipes are "Schlopp with a Cherry on Top," "Pink Yink Ink Drink," "Zans' Cans Chili," "Schlottz's Knots," "Cindy-Lou Who-Wreaths," and of course "Green Eggs and Ham."

As the executive chef of a vegetarian household, I'm a bit disappointed. Not sure what I was expecting from a cookbook with Ham in the title. Fortunately, some of the breakfast, lunch, and snack recipes can be modified to be suitable for vegetarians by omitting the meat. But the dinner section--which includes shrimp, ham hocks, fillets of fish, chicken, and Italian sausages--is off-limits.

Regardless, TIC loves that he now has his very own cookbook. He has enjoyed turning the pages and telling me what each recipe is about and how we're going to make it. Every recipe includes elements for kids--from mixing, to pouring and assembling. And some recipes require no cooking or chopping so that kids can create these snacks and drinks with little guidance. So far, TIC has mastered "Brown Bar-ba-loots' Truffula Fruits," which is an easy to make snack of fruit and yogurt and "Silly Sammy Slick's Sodas," which is a foamy combination of juice and sparkling water.

And if you're wondering what makes the eggs green in the recipe for "Green Eggs and Ham"--it's avocados! Yum. Perhaps we'll just make the eggs. Or maybe we'll modify it to be "Green Eggs and Tofu."

We're only so safe

Apparently I've given birth to another super-sized baby. He's just three months old and he's already wearing 6-12 month clothing. It's not that he's fat (although he is getting those super juicy thighs), he's just really long. So sadly, we'll be saying good-bye to the super convenient infant car seat and snap-n-go stroller in the next few weeks. That means we need another car seat.

The easiest thing to do would be to bump Toddler in Chief into a booster seat and put Baby in Chief into TIC's five-point harness car seat. We were bummed to find out that those booster bases (for which you can buy a two-pack for $35), your kiddo must weigh 40 pounds. TIC is still seven or eight pounds away. So we can either buy one of those booster seats that accommodates 30-poundish kids or we could buy another five-point harness seat for Baby in Chief. It would have to be one of those Marathon seats that is usable until 60 pounds and switch TIC into that and put BIC into TIC's seat.

The latter is the more expensive option, but this convinced me. Sometimes I'm amazed that any of made it to adulthood without the car seats and helmets and flame-resistant pajamas and safety gates that kids have today.

Weird Al is back!

There are many of Weird Al Yankovic's parodies stored in my childhood memories. Some of the ones that come to mind are "I lost on Jeopardy," "Yoda," "Eat it," and "Girls Just Want to Have Lunch." And he's always had a special place in my heart because my dad, well, sort of looks like Weird Al with the glasses and all those curls. He even was Weird Al for Halloween one year.

But Weird Al is back. And I had to share this because I laughed and laughed. And I honestly don't know what song he is parodying here, but it doesn't matter. The video, the lyrics are just so darn funny.

Afraid to commit

I've been wanting to get back into the shoes of the old Mother in Chief...the spunky writer taking issue with public figures and corporate America when parents--especially moms--are given few options when they want to pursue a family and a career.

I have several--well at least a couple--posts just floating around in my head. Even though I'm a little tardy, I'm ready to rip Michael Noer a new one over his marriage and career opinion piece in Forbes. But something is holding me back. Probably the time-commitment-thing. I used to blog daily way back when I just had one kid and no book to work on. And even then it took a lot of time and effort to write. Ahem, to write good, entertaining, smart stuff.

So I hold back. Afraid to jump in again. Afraid to start and then stop. I just don't like being a quitter. So, if I never start, I guess I'm not being a quitter, right?

Traveling with two

I decided to brave the airports with two kids so that we could go visit our families on the east coast. When leaving San Francisco, I didn’t have to fold my stroller. They just took it over to the side and examined it for explosives and dangerous water bottles. But the Atlanta airport was not so friendly. How exactly are you supposed to fold up your stroller to get through airport security while holding a baby? I ended up setting Baby in Chief on the table. Fortunately he’s not big enough to roll off, and Toddler in Chief is a good listener so he stayed right by my side. Once I got through the metal detectors, the only table-like structure was the one with the rolling conveyor belts. I clearly couldn’t put him on that, so I just stood there and wondered what to do. Eventually one of the security personnel came over and told me I needed to move because I was blocking the aisle. But TIC and I didn’t even have our shoes on yet. Finally, I was able to talk the security guy through the process of opening my stroller and we were able to move all of our crap to another table out of the way. Good times all around, and I can’t wait until I have to transfer planes in 40 minutes or less on my way back home.

Because the Giants didn't make the playoffs...

Can you blame Baby in Chief for being so upset? Actually he was very happy in his Halloween costume until he started to ponder its deeper meaning.

Back to work

I don't think I've heard the words, "Get back to work," since I was 16 years old and I worked at Sunny's Restaurant. That directive was most frequently hollered my way when I was trying to avoid washing a drum of frozen, bloodied chicken wings. I want to wretch just thinking about it. Well now I'm saying it to myself. I've procrastinated enough and I refuse to let 2006 go down in the history as the worst year of my life. I won't use anymore lame excuses to avoid working: my kid's in the hospital, I fell down the stairs, I had a baby, my kid's in the hospital again, my husband was hit by a car while riding his bike. Wah. I want this year to be a year of good stuff too: I had a baby, I started to work--again.

Besides, my whole tag line was beginning to seem a little far-fetched and off-kilter: "Driving to playgroup, but driven to work." Not! Yes, I've been driving to playgroup and the museum and friends' houses and to the store, but work? Um, I think my position was downsized and I was escorted out of the building after I handed over my badge. Then as I drove home, I realized I was left with nothing but diaper duty and a longing.

Enough, I say!

I'm not going to an office or to a punch-clock or to lunches with coworkers. I'm writing my book, the book that's been floating around my thoughts for months, years. There, I've said it. And now I will do it. I even put my glasses on for other purposes than looking the smart-girl part while out on the town. I've done actual research. And I am setting goals and deadlines. It feels good. Sure I'm on the honeymoon, but I plan to ride it out until my loins and my brain are sore. And then hopefully I'll keep going. Because that's what you do if you want to succeed, if you have drive. And I'm driven, even if my drive was on hiatus for a bit. So MIC, "Get back to work!"

I love being an expert

Few things perk me up and make me hold my head up higher than eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, followed by an invigorating walk and a venti soy latte. One such rarity is a little undeniable, indisputable prestige. Last week's dose came when my mug (and giant belly) landed the premiere spot on my photographer's web site. And this week's dose comes via an online magazine's article on starting a mom blog. In addition to being the perfect parent, now I'm an expert on blogging as well.

Ah, fame, fortune, my name in pixels. Who says you can't have it all?!