Yeah, we know it’s past Mother’s Day, but we didn’t have the heart to post this in the midst all of the heartfelt sentiment and beautiful displays of affection.

We love everyone in our lives who has a uterus: our mothers, our mothers-in-law, my sister, our children, our aunts, our sisters-in-law, and even each other. Truth be told, we had lovely celebrations on that Sunday, but you know Mother’s Day can make you a little twitchy.

Don’t lie.

Here’s that point of view.

Erin–May has caused Ellen to crack. She has rounded the bend. She has flown off the merry-go-round. She has left the building. 

She just whirled through my house Tazmanian-devil style, and now she is sprawled on my couch like she is paying me by the hour.

Ellen— My calendar is killing me! The activities themselves—they’re pretty wonderful—but they are crammed into my schedule like clowns in a Fiat.

Erin– And they keep coming one after another in a relentless assault on time, patience, and sanity. It can make you feel a little overwhelmed and under-loved.

Ellen–It makes ME feel like I have an elbow lodged up my arse.

Erin– Melodrama much?

Ellen—Where’s the love?  I have a to-do list from here to Tuesday that isn’t going anywhere, and I have shot myself in the foot because I left my ever-loving purse at home. So now I must drive past the nursery, because I can’t even buy my Mother’s Day plants. One more thing unchecked on my to-do list. One more reason to sink into this couch and hide.

Erin- I did offer to give you money…

Ellen- … but your four crinkled dollar bills and Wal-Mart receipt would not have taken me as far as I needed to go.

Erin- You know MacGyver could fashion one beauty of a Mother’s Day gift with a pack of gum and some duct tape.

Ellen – Oh, I know what I could do with some duct tape right now. I’m giving you notice. Forget that other idea we had for next week’s post!

Erin– The one we both agreed was perfect and reasonable, and oh, how shall I say it, sensible?

Ellen– Forget all of it! This is going to be my finest hour.

This is going to be . . .

Erin– Your Alamo. (Ellen’s look of death) Still not helping?

Ellen–This isn’t my last stand. THIS is going to be my “whipping” post.

Erin- Oh, that’s sooo much better (read sarcasm LOUD AND CLEAR) but remember Ellen is fraying at the edges, so let’s just humor her.

Ellen– Mother’s Day is like a snake eating its tail! The celebrated are the celebrators, and the end result: You just get bitten in your ass.

Who are you? The guest of honor or the party planner? We'll tell you WHAT you are! Bitten in the arse is what you are.

Who started this holiday anyway? I think it was a Hallmark Conspiracy.

Erin – There is something kind of messed up about a holiday where you are supposed to be the guest of honor AND the party planner. 

But the cards the kids make are cute and sometimes they give flowers. And don’t forget the chocolates.

Ellen–Oh, yes, they are just the best (read MY sarcasm Loud and clear), says my fat ass. ‘Cause nothing says “I love you” like an extra inch on the derriere.

Erin—This is worse than I thought. She’s turning on chocolate.

Ellen-Where can we stop the honoring?

Erin- Seriously, who gets to wear the tiara on the “big day?”  Since Hallmark pretty much includes any person with lady parts on the list of honorees, it makes it a little tough to figure out. 

Ellen–When you are a new mother, the dirty secret is you don’t want a crown or a scepter, you just want to be left alone.

Erin—Preferably with a box of wine and a book. (Ellen’s raised eyebrow) It’s real wine.

Ellen– I’m sure it is.

Erin- But when you are old, all you want to do is gather everyone to your bosom.

Ellen— It’s a generational tug o’ war. Don’t forget choosing between your family and the in-laws.

Erin– That tug o’war rope might make a lovely noose.

Don’t forget the landmines some of us are sidestepping on this “special day” like death, divorce, infertility, dysfunction, and estrangement.

Ellen- Whoa. I gotta lay down again.

Erin – Do you need a cold cloth?

Ellen- What I need is a scapegoat! Oh magic Google, who got us into this mess?

Erin– Ellen might have left the ranch at this point.

Magic Google brought us here!

Ellen – Check this out! This goes on and on about how this “holiday” has roots in ancient Egyptian, Roman, and Greek culture. I am not buying it. Do not pander to my intellectuality, you Mother’s Day machine!

Erin – Oh. My. Goodness.

Ellen-  Okay, scrolling down. Here’s my target: Julia Ward Howe. This mess all started with her!  This chick penned the Battle Hymn of the Republic.

Erin – Impressive!

Ellen—And during the Civil War she called mothers to come together and protest the futility of sons killing sons.

Erin- Noble! 

Ellen-  But her execution kinda flopped. She furthered her noble ideas with…parties.

Erin- Fail.

Ellen – Oh but wait, the fail becomes epic. She funded like 18 woman’s groups to have celebrations for several years, but once she stopped the money flow…the holiday fizzled!

See? See!?!

The woman not only had to pay for her own party, but everyone else’s too. And once she stopped driving the gravy train, everyone bailed.

Erin- Sounds familiar.

Ellen- But this Mother’s Day idea won’t die. Fast forward to 1908. Our next perpetrator is  Anna M. Jarvis. She CAMPAIGNED for the creation of an official Mother’s Day in remembrance of her mother and in honor of peace.

Erin—Oh my goodness, who has this kind of time?

Ellen- Well, remember, they didn’t have blogging back then.

Erin- Poor girl innocently started her campaign by giving flowers out in church.

Ellen –But apparently the flowers did what the Battle Hymn of the Republic could not. By 1909, while Mother’s Day was still not an official holiday, 46 states, Canada and parts of Mexico were celebrating it.

Erin – Ole, we made this misery multinational.

Ellen- But now in an extraordinary display of misplaced grief, Anna quit her job to promote this mess.

I don’t know if I can read anymore. (Arm on head, laying in supine position)

Erin – Where were her friends and neighbors to give her a reality check? She didn’t need to take this show on the road, she needed some love and attention. Kinda like Ellen right now. 

Ellen- I’m fine. This is what incredulity with a side of defeat looks like. But it looks like her persistence paid off. She got somewhere. In 1912, West Virginia was the first state to make Mother’s Day official.

Erin—Aww, good for West Virginia. Mad props.

Ellen—And in 1914, Woodrow Wilson made it official.

Erin – Now it’s my turn for some incredulity! In the middle of the whole world war starting? Really?

Ellen—Maybe it was an economic move because listen to this: The Florist Review went so far as to print, “This was a holiday that could be exploited.”

It’s in quotes, it’s on the internet, it supports my point.

Erin–So it must be true.

Ellen—And truth is better than fiction. Now we get to the juicy.

Anna wigs out about all of the commercialization of her precious holiday. By 1923, she was SUING to stop Mother’s Day events.

Erin- Control freak much?

Ellen – It gets better! In the 1930’s, she was ARRESTED for disturbing the peace at the American War Mothers group. She was protesting their sale of FLOWERS. Hah!

Erin-  Are you doing the math? This woman has been wrapped up in Mother’s Day for 2 decades. And now she’s going to jail over FLOWERS!

Ellen- But wait, she apparently has miles to travel before she is completely off the reservation.

The U.S. government chose to honor her mother with a postage stamp and did she just say “Thank you?”

No, she PROTESTED to get the words “Mother’s Day” removed.

Would I offend you?

Erin- Ouch! Way to turn on your creation, Dr. Frankenstein.

Ellen- Maybe she became aware of her freakishness over the flowers, because she moved onto bigger fish: copyrighting the words Mother’s Day.

Erin – There are no words. Were there support groups back then? Was she successful?

Ellen – Hell no! She had spent so much time anguishing over the floral industry that ship had sailed. And speaking of sailing ships, here is one of her last quotes.

[In opposition to the flower industry’s exploitation of the holiday]: “What will you do to route charlatans, bandits, pirates, racketeers, kidnappers, and other termites that would undermine with their greed one of the finest, noblest, and truest movements and celebrations?”

Erin- Wow.

Ellen- But the Florist Review had the last word, “Miss Jarvis was completely squelched.”

Erin- Like a termite?

Ellen –It’s in quotes.

Erin- So it must be true.

Do you want a glass of water?

Ellen – Wait! Here is the most cosmic karma part of it all! Anna Jarvis died in 1948—blind, poor, and childless.

Erin- It sounds like a bad country song. Should I laugh or cry? Those always throw me.

Ellen – (reading slowly) “Jarvis would never know that it was, ironically, The Florist’s Exchange that had anonymously paid for her care.”

Erin – It WAS a conspiracy. This is exactly why I want to drive the karma bus. Otherwise, you could end up under it.

Ellen – Yeah, I’m not paying you for this session.

Erin – You don’t have your purse anyway.

Ellen – But I’m getting the duct tape now.

Hope your Mother’s Day was just grand! Here are some happy pictures of us on the big day with our kids!

Ellen's Crew

Erin's Army

Aren’t our kids the cutest?? ; )

Erin: We are such fans of Stasha’s Monday Listicles because they always seem to coincide with things going on in our lives. Or maybe it’s just that between the two of us, we always have so much stuff going on that we can pretty much twist any topic to fit.

Ellen: This week’s topic was presented by Stacey from Mothering Moments in support of her wonderful new link up called ‘An Hour In A Day’.  We were asked to make a list of ten things that happen in an hour of our lives.

Erin: I started to list what happened in an hour of my day and I just couldn’t go on. Didn’t have the stomach for it. Didn’t want to see it in writing.

Ellen: So I took this puppy over because ALL OF THE HOURS of my past week have been consumed by making the #BloggersDance Party video for Kerry @HouseTalkN.

Erin: She is being soooooo melodramatic. It was only 30 hours.

Ellen: So without further ado,

TEN THINGS THAT TOOK PLACE DURING ANY RANDOM HOUR WHILE PRODUCING OUR VIDEO

1. Consult teenage daughter on how to make a movie in Movie Maker. Teenage daughter points out that I have yet to download any of my video clips. Good point.

2. Plug phone into the computer to download videos. Two of them will not download. Swear repeatedly as repeated attempts fail.

3. Resort to emailing the clips to myself off of my phone. Wait 1 hour because I have sporadic 3G coverage at my house. Yep, you read that correctly, that is one hour burned right there folks.

4 Spend hour waiting for email from myself by listening to scads of copyright free music. It ain’t all good or pretty, people.

5. Call Erin about sending her video clip to me.

6. Finally start making video. Realize that 3:54 minutes is an enormity of time to fill. Start to panic.

7. Call Erin for her video clip, AGAIN. Conversation starts with, “I don’t understand..” Realize I may just have to cut bait and move on.

8. Call friend to email me a compromising picture of Erin. Mary emails me the photo in five minutes. Mary moves to the top of my “Favorite Friend” list.

9. Cannot save video because I have maxed the memory on my computer. Spend three hours managing memory on my computer. Consume a glass of wine. Or two.

10. Long story immensely ( and blessedly) shortened: the video was produced and saved, uploaded to You Tube, and presented here for your viewing pleasure! Please let us know that the effort was worth it. Lie if you have to. We’re totally okay with that.

Can you believe what a fantastic idea this is? In our relatively short time cavorting through the blogosphere, we feel like we have made so many friends. And the reason? Because people are so open, real, and caring, no one more so than Alison at Mama Wants This. This virtual baby shower is an excellent example of blogging friendships: three ladies from across the United States, Ado, Stasha, and Erica, have teamed up to throw a party for Alison who is across the world in Malaysia. Isn’t the Internet grand?

The first party game, from Ado at The Momalog, is to post a favorite baby picture with a motherhood quote. With seven of the most beautiful babies in the world to choose from, this could have been pretty darn difficult. So we made the executive decision that since Eddie is the baby of our bunch, his pic wins. This is Erin’s little bouncing ball of joy.

As for the quote, well Erin wants Tina Fey to play her in the story of her life, and Bossypants was a fantastic read.  There is nothing a second child needs more than a great blessing on his sweet little head.  So here is a great quote from Tina’s prayer for her daughter altered slightly, because we know Alison is having a boy:

“Guide him and Protect him when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.”

It should also probably say something about your sibling in there too, so we just did. God bless you, little one, from two ladies half a world away.

The second party game, from Stasha at The Good Life, is to find a gift on Pinterest and share it.  While Erin was setting up the picture, Ellen did the shopping.

My first gift is for the baby because every Scrumplet needs a lovey. And I love that this has the soothing sounds. I swear it made the difference for my older daughter, Coco.

My second gift is just for Alison because a new Mama has to keep up her strength.

The third party game, from Erica M. at Yeah Write Me, is to guess the baby’s date of birth, weight and length.  Ellen is fielding this one because, well, she used to be a professional.

Ellen – I’m kind of like  Joey Fatone on Dancing with Stars, playing like an amateur despite the fact that I made a living doing this very same thing. However, it is pretty hard without feeling her belly. Thank goodness she lives far enough away that we don’t have to go through THAT awkward conversation. But I did have pictures to go by on her Facebook page. So here goes:

 May 7th, 7lb 14ounces, 20.5 inches long

(I know she is in Malaysia, but someone else will have to convert this to metric.)

We are wishing you all of the blessings, safety, and love in the world! xoxo Ellen and Erin

It is a beautiful spring day, and we are lazing on the couch in Erin’s sunroom blogging. Erin is absentmindedly stroking her cat.

Erin says as she strokes his chest, “Wow, my cat’s fur is turning red. I thought he was all black.”

Ellen replies, “Cats just don’t turn red. Are you sure “he” is a male? Those are calico markings and calicos are almost universally female.”

Erin says, “Of course I have a male, I’m not stupid. More importantly, who knows this kind of sh*%? <pause> Dork.”

But Erin proceeds to reluctantly flip the cat over and poke around in its nether regions. Oh, yes, there was searching.

Erin exclaims, “There’s no penis! This is not my cat!”

Cat thinks, “WTF? Buy me dinner first.”

Ellen at this point is crying so hard that tears and snot are running down her face. Erin opens the door and shoos the grifter cat out faster than Maria Shriver gave the boot to the Terminator.

We can’t make this mess up. Erin has two “real” cats. She had previously taken one to the vet because he was losing his fur. The vet diagnosed anxiety. Do you think this could be the reason…

Meow

Anxiety!?! Yeah, I got anxiety! My backside is a balding mess! There's been a strange cat living in my house! And no one knew! Thank goodness for Ellen and her mad genetic knowledge!

It’s Monday Listicles time. This week is kid edition. The assignment was to list ten reasons why being a child is great. Or why it is not. It was up to us, so we talked to our kids.

We know our kids are some of the luckiest, most blessed kids on the planet. Pretty much everything about being a kid in one of our families rocks. When we asked them about their childhoods, most of them declined to comment (they were too busy running around enjoying this gorgeous spring weather), but we did hear some mutterings and complaints about the “stupid blog.” So, we’re going with that.  Erin and Ellen

       10 Reasons Being A Kid with A Mom Who Blogs Rocks

One…

Two (Direct quote from Jellybean)…

Three…

Four…

Five…

Six…

Seven…

Eight…

Nine…

Ten…

Head on over to Monday Listicles and read some other great blogs. Or better yet, write your own list and link it up.

This post was written in response to a Monday Listicle prompt, but as you can see, it turned into much more than a list. It is actually a little, tiny portal showing some of the nuts and bolts of how two women cooperate to write a blog together. If you have never visited us before, Erin and I CO-AUTHOR the blog posts and transcribe them like our conversations. This requires a level of cooperation that nations should strive to achieve as a model for world peace. Seriously.

So, without further ado, we are linking up to Yeah Write Me #48. Head on over there to check out more great blogs. It is our favorite place to catch up on our reading.

                                       - Ellen

Ellen- Stasha at The Good Life  hosts this fabulous fun party known as the Monday Listicles. (If I get any comments pointing out that it is now Tuesday, I might drop kick a stuffed animal. Do you want that on your conscience?) This week’s Monday Listicles topic comes from Jessica at My Time As Mom, who suggested we make a list of things we’re rubbish at. And since Stasha personally asked/challenged us to join in, I immediately called Erin. (Ok, maybe she didn’t challenge, per se, but I am rubbish at turning down a request.)

Erin- Yesterday Ellen could barely speak, had a fever, and was suffering from one of the more heinous upper respiratory infections making the rounds in our fair county.  This point is significant, because today, slightly less feverish and ill, she rose from her bed and practically BEGGED me to write this list.

Ellen- I was thinking it was so much cheaper than mediation and would require less energy than slugging it out in one of those inflatable sumo wrestling rings.

Erin-You see, I am absolute RUBBISH at technology. This is not a big deal unless you have decided to partner with me to write a blog. And then it’s a big, stinking, miserable deal, because blogging is only partially about writing.

Ellen- It is a whole lot about mastering technology and making it your biotch.

Erin-  I keep hearing Kelly Clarkson singing, “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Watch out for Ellen then.  Really. After blogging with me, she will be able to lift a bus with one hand. She really will be able to wear those red boots and lasso. 

Without further ado, the top ten things about technology that flummox me, thus almost kill Ellen, and at which I am absolute rubbish:

1. My Virtual Mailbox

Erin- Ahh, email. This lovely technology has made my life easier in so many ways and completely highlights how little attention I give to organizing certain things. Like email. In the earliest days of our blog, Ellen emailed me everything she could find about blogging.

Ellen- Lots of these were about technology, folks. Take note that until about four months ago, I would have sworn HTML code was a coupon for H&M.

Erin- She even organized the emails in a folder on her Gmail account—I would NEVER even think to do something like that.  Later, but not THAT much later, Ellen got irritated with me, because she thought I was ignoring her emails.

Ellen- Gee, they were only about getting our domain name pinned down.

Erin-I was responding. Truly. But on further inspection, they were stuck in my outbox. Oy. No words. Just oy.

2. My Voicemail

Erin-Yeah, my Voicemail on my home phone and cellphone are both full. I have lost the access numbers and passwords. My BIL Dan tried to help me rectify this over Christmas. He has the patience of a saint, but after about thirty minutes he Pontius Pilated me and washed his hands of the whole mess. When your patron saint declares you a lost cause, you know you’ve got troubles.

Ellen- I sometimes resort to telepathic powers to communicate with her.

3. Posting Pictures

Erin- To be fair, posting pictures to a blog is one of the trickier things to learn early on. There’s re-sizing, and LOTS AND LOTS AND LOTS of choices. Thumbnail, medium, full-size. Right, left, center. It’s like the Starbucks of visual media, and all I was looking for was a little coffee. On the Blirth-day of the blog, Ellen was setting up Google Analytics, Twitter, and, well, everything else. Meanwhile, I was trying to put my picture on my bio. It took AWHILE.

Ellen- I was actually generating code and she called me expecting a celebration when she got a picture posted.

Erin- I have gotten better, but it’s SLOW.

4. Distinguishing Activity From Productivity

Erin- One of the unwritten rules is that blogs are like houses in a lovely community and you are supposed to make the rounds and COMMENT on them.  Hey, nice curtains, lovely rug–that sort of thing. The first time we linked up to Yeah Write Me, I read like 50 blogs, wrote a lovely, lengthy email to Ellen about who we should vote for and why, but I didn’t write a single comment on a single blog.  Yeah, I know. (Head hung in shame)

Ellen- Don’t worry folks, I’m all about playing fair, so I swept behind and commented up a storm.

5. Linking Things Up

Erin – It’s kind of a key part of blogging to link things, but I break links like they are a china shop, and I am a bull. Letters appear out of nowhere and attach themselves in funny places BREAKING the link. I don’t copy the whole address BREAKING the link. I don’t even know WHAT I do and I end up BREAKING the link. To say that it’s a problem might be the understatement of the century.

Ellen- Maybe just checking every link you “think” you have posted, might be a goal? I feel like I just channeled Dr. Seuss.

6. Posting Videos

Erin- AGAIN. It bites me twice, because we also like to add videos to our blog posts. Well, the story here starts with my optimistic email to Ellen that read, “Hey, I loaded the video. Blog is ready to go!” Um, well, not really. I hadn’t actually added anything but a link to YouTube that took readers away from our site.

Ellen- And a picture of the video that took you to a blank page.

Erin- Don’t you wish you had a partner just like me??

7. Using My Awesome, Superduper, SmartPhone

Erin- This phone is like a bucking bronco I can’t break. It pocket-dials, refuses to return emails, tweets when it feels like it, and only surfs the net when the mood strikes it. I took it back to the store and they claimed it was an ID10T error.

Ellen- Hmmmm.

8. Mastering My MAC

Erin- I am the world’s worst spokesperson for the world’s best computer brand. Apple makes products for people just like me. Everything about Apple is supposedly intuitive and user-friendly. I am the unfriendliest user EVER.

Ellen- She actually FROZE the screen. I have spent years having Mac users snarkily tell me to abandon my PC because Macs are so foolproof.

Erin- This is such a rare occurrence with a MAC that the Apple Geniuses almost had me escorted out the door by the cops who stand sentry. The bottom line is that I don’t even know how to harness all my power for good.

Ellen- Yet.

9. Attending To Details

Erin- So much of technology in general, and blogging technology specifically, is the ability to dot i’s and cross t’s. I am a big idea person; the details often confound me or in this case poor Ellen. I regularly forget to check boxes that tag our posts or bring readers back to our pages. My husband Steve calls this Erin phenomena “Oh, look, a rock.” As in, Erin is swimming around a fishbowl and “Oh, look, a rock.”  Over and over and over. I get lost a lot too.

Ellen- She DID NOT inform me that her hubby had named a phenomenon about her attention span before I agreed to start blogging with her. Just sayin’.

10. Squashing My Utter, Gripping, Handicapping Fear

Erin- Ellen was out for jury duty two weeks ago and left me in charge of the blog. I was sweating like it was a heat wave in August. I know me. Too damn well. I knew I would forget to check a box, or break a link, or post a picture upside down or backward (I know you think it can’t be done, but I am like the anti-superhero of the computerworld—just watch me!).

Ellen- She does produce a force field that makes even my computer go wiggy sometimes. I think she should get her dental work inspected.

Erin- And it’s not like Ellen has all that much computer background, she’s just not terrified of it. I buck, I stomp, I stone-cold back away from the challenge of it all. But the thing about calling a spade a spade, or in this case, myself RUBBISH, is that it takes the power of it all away.  Words can tame the beast. In our house we say, “Fight the Tiger; Embrace the Mountain.” All this time, I thought technology was the tiger at the door, but really it’s just the mountain to climb. And I’m going to get my gear on. Really.

Bonus

Ellen- I hope so! But there is one more thing at which Erin is rubbish: giving herself props. She has the most accepting and good-natured disposition of any woman I have ever met. Her kindness knows no bounds. She is the friend we all rely on to deliver hard to hear news to members of the Sisterhood because she truly has a gift for being non-abrasive. She is the Labrador Retriever of women, friend to all. She can also accept criticism like no one I have ever seen. Grace should be her middle name. It is the only thing that can explain why she still takes my calls (of course, she has to have her phone turned on). Let’s face it, it’s one heck of a woman who would write this post.

Erin- I just didn’t want to rent the inflatable sumo suits.

Write on Edge‘ s prompt this week was:

“We’d like you to explore friendship. You can talk about a current friendship or one from your past, a friend you met over kindergarten snacks or happy hour at your first job. Examine your emotional interest in the friendship and the role it plays, or played, in your life.

The word limit for this prompt is 400 words. While that may not seem like many words to devote to a friend you’ve known for thirty years, try to provide us with a snapshot that encompasses your feelings about the friendship.”

Two-For-One

We are including two prompt responses under one post because, well, there are two of us. We blog with a shared voice and focus as Sisterhood of the Sensible Moms. It can be challenging, but what might be even more challenging, is explaining to people how we do it without killing each other. We decided to take this prompt as a blind challenge to explore this question. Ellen is going to write about Erin and vice versa. Erin’s husband is going to load both essays and then we are going to see where the chips fall. Does anyone have Judge Judy’s phone number?

Erin: One Analogy Is Not Enough

Erin is the self-described Labrador Retriever of Women. With her being the wordsmith that she is, I’m going to take the easy road and continue with this analogy. She has all the very best qualities of a Lab – loyal, fun, outgoing, intelligent, and adorable – without the shedding, slobber, and muddy paws. Well, occasionally she has muddy paws, but she does always clean up after herself.

But a woman this fabulous cannot be pegged by just one analogy. She is also THE safe harbor of friendship. She draws friends of all personalities and shelters them with her compassionate and accepting nature. I am prone to bitterness, because I tend to tamp down my feelings so as not to offend anyone. This is never an issue with Erin, because while she will hold you accountable, she will never turn you away for sharing who you are. She just has this supernatural ability to reflect and magnify all that is good in you.

She is also like a poorly maintained roller coaster: if you are not buckled in and paying attention, she will have you off on a tangent in the blink of an eye. While this can make planning a trip with her challenging, it is in these tangents where the heartstrings of friendship are woven tighter.

If I just made you throw up a little in your mouth with the word “heartstrings,” let me redeem myself. She can also get on your nerves like a stonewalling teenager. If she goes “radio-silent” on me one more time, immediately after blog-posting, texting, emailing, Facebooking,  or tweeting, I’m going to pee in her Pollyanna Kool-Aid. Love you.

XOXOX – Ellen

Ellen

“You can write me, but you will never capture me.” Thus speaketh Ellen, and like she has so many other times, reveals the absolute truth of the matter. Ellen defies the pigeonholing that sums most people up. She is just so Ellen.

A force of nature, she is so the chick you want in your get-away car. Ellen is a do-it-yourselfer extraordinaire harboring Macgyver-esque fantasies. She can also help you find what ails you, bake a cake that makes you want to live in her kitchen, and guide some pretty great kids through life.  She manages all this with a flair and fashion sense that I admire.

Over the years, Ellen has blown me away with the many shades and depths of her character, but the thing that binds us, the thing that makes US work is our ability to make each other laugh. Even if nobody else agrees, we think we are funny as hell.

I am grateful to Ellen on many levels, but I owe her truly for being the one who kicked me out of my Erinness and made me do what I have always wanted to do—write.  She wrote me an email once in response to a piece I had written that said “I can go in and do some editing like an overachieving 4th grade mom who wants her kid to get the A.” She can, and she has, more times than I can count. She pushes, I pull. She demands, I rise to the challenge. She laughs, I dissolve in giggles. She is the right partner for me in this blog, because she sees me and what we are trying to do so clearly.

“You can thank me later for your first sentence.” Yes, Ellen, and then some.

We are linking up again to Yeah Write—suffice it say that the community of writers there and the writing itself has us hooked. We are officially addicts!

Oh, the B-word, how the thought of you does things to me!  I had seen garden variety bullying up close and personal when I taught middle school. The jibes and sneers, the petty grievances and snotty snubs, even the cold shoulders, were ugly but ever-present parts of the landscape. Now, as a mom to tweens and teens, I am helping sidestep those land mines daily.

But something really terrible happened. A sixth-grader with autism was bullied at the bus-stop in our town. This was a horse of a different color. The incident was so heart-breaking and outrageous that it made national news.

There are a lot of conversations right now in my ‘hood about what the schools can do, what the parents should have done, and what kids can do to prevent bullying. I know our community is still reeling, but coulda-woulda-shoulda is the least helpful sort of conversation.

With little control over school policy and no control over other parents’ households, I am still powerful. I can control the conversations that I have with my kids and their friends about the B-word and what I expect and what they can do.

So, here is what we talk about when we talk about bullying. We keep talking and talking.  You should too.

 

Click on this badge to go to our Pinterest board and repin it for yourself to spread this positive message against bullying.

 Ways to Banish the B Word:

1. You don’t have to be friends WITH everybody, but you have to be A Friend TO everybody.   Let this sink in. This is the Big Kahuna. If this is the only concept we impress on our kids, then we have all won: treat ALL kids kindly and with respect. As Robert Fulghum famously wrote, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten.” Even Kindergarteners know that friends play fair, talk nice, share, and take turns.  Your child is a long way from eating paste and writing with crayons. Encourage them to act like it. They may have great arguments for why you just don’t get it (or maybe that’s just my kids—the great future litigators). That is why there is point #2.

2. Somebody might not be your flavor, but there is nothing wrong with Mint Chocolate Chip. Here’s the thing your kids need to know right now and remember always. They are not going to like everybody (and vice versa).  Some people may grate on their last nerve and drive them crazy, but who cares? You may hate mint chocolate chip ice cream. It may make your nose wrinkle, your stomach curl, and make you say unkind things to the person who just served it to you. You know what? I love it. It’s my favorite. People are just like that.  Some are just the right flavor for you. Some aren’t. It doesn’t matter. Your job is to teach your kids to recognize that Baskins Robbins has over 1000 flavors because there is beauty in diversity and choice and differences. And that they too are still lovable and worthwhile—even if they always choose vanilla.

3. Size Matters. We all want our kids to be exceptional and special, and they are. These differences among them mean that kids come in all shapes, sizes, and personality types. We need to teach our kids that if they are bigger, stronger, more athletic, smarter, anything -er than the kids around them, they have a great responsibility to be gentler, sweeter, more patient, and more kind.  The Lord of the Rings said it best, “With great gifts comes great responsibility.” They need to own who they are and what they are bringing to the table. Exceptionally kind is just as important and noteworthy as exceptionally smart or athletic. There might not be a medal for it, but make sure they know you think there should be.

4. Momma was right. It isn’t what you say it’s how you say it.  If size matters, then words really do. As bombs or  salves, words charge the atmosphere of the classroom and the playground.  “Nice shoes” is a perfectly fine thing to say to someone unless you don’t mean it. Sarcasm is nastiness’  sneaky friend. If they invite Sarcasm to play, they are being mean. Period. Teach them to be sincere or be quiet.

5. Saying nothing says something.   This is hard to teach, but this is the most important thing for most kids.  Most kids aren’t doing the picking, but they aren’t stopping it either. As the mom, you need to acknowledge this in your discussion: “I know that you didn’t call him names or push him down or hurt his feelings. But you were there. And you were silent.” Great men have said great things about this. Consider Edmund Burke who said that “Evil prevails when good men are silent.” That’s a little deep for recess, but you get my point. Teach your kids: Speak up, Be simple, and Be clear. “This is uncool. I am not standing for it.”

6. Choose the Best Version of Yourself.  Every day we see our kids making important decisions about how to wear their hair, what clothes to put on, what shows to watch, what apps to download. They are trying on different hats to see which fits the real them. They will have opportunities EVERY SINGLE DAY to wear a white hat or a black hat. Teach your kids to Be the Hero or at least the person who can sleep with a worry-free conscience at night. Say out loud to them if necessary, “This is isn’t my favorite  version of you. You can do better.” They want desperately to get it right.  Let them know in no uncertain terms when they are getting it all wrong.

We Moms are powerful creatures in this universe called home. Bullying at its deep ugly heart is just another word for cruelty, and we won’t have that in our schools, on our computers, in our homes, or on our playgrounds. This is the way we Moms take a stand. This is what we do. This is the way we banish the B Word. One Conversation At  A Time.

–Erin

Ellen- Get it?

[Blog]+[Birthday]=[bLirth-day].  Our blog went live and in the spirit of Sisterhood, we are sharing our bLirth story with you.

Erin- I still think we can call it a bLaunch…

Ellen- Ummmmm, no. Just no. Sounds like the noise the cat makes when she coughs up a hairball.  And, I am really feeling the pregnancy metaphor.  We had only been gestating this baby for 2 ½ months, but you all know that feels twice as long in pregnancy time.  This blog was draggggggging out through the holidays—HALLOWEENTHANKSGIVINGCHRISTMASNEWYEARS.   I was tired of the whole thing.   I was begging for some relief. The only thing missing was swollen ankles.

Erin- So we did what any sensible mom would do.  We kicked the blog under the bed with the dust bunnies and walked away. FOR A MONTH. I once tried to mention the blog to Ellen, and she almost stroked out begging me not to discuss it.

Ellen- But then we got our Christmas miracle.  Steve surprised Erin with a MacBook Air.

Erin- Forget that he broke our “Hey, it’s a frugal Christmas” agreement.  Forget that I felt huge guilt when he was opening his dixie cups and chapstick (For real. We were supposed to be frugal, People, and, that’s right, I wrapped them, too. What of it?).  I was already posting on Facebook from my shiny, new Mac.

This sweet man in one grand gesture gave me the biggest, best vote of confidence in our blog. With one click, I dragged our blog out from underneath the metaphorical bed and blew off the dust. I loaded our site with everything we had written and then some.

Ellen- We are giving Steve props for getting us back on track. We were going to make everything perfect. We were going to finally birth this baby.  So we did what every sensible mom does, we made a plan.  We even made a date, for scheduling a date, to create our Facebook page and Twitter account.  Then with the good fortune that has constantly shone on this project, Elizabeth, our graphic designer, emailed us our banner.  Oooo, we could take a step forward!  Then came the email from our Tech Angel, Colleen: “Ok, I just added your header – let me know if you think you’re ready to go.”

Ready to go!?! I’m not ready to be a blogger!  What do I know about blogging? I made all kinds of excuses to Colleen about why we were not ready: no social media buttons, no contact form, blah, blah, blah.

As with all good “birthing” plans, ours was not worth the computer file space it was residing in.  I woke up the next morning, logged onto the site, and right before my very eyes, I could see Colleen adding the social media buttons.  Colleen was addressing every excuse, um, I mean barrier, that was preventing us from taking this blog live.  The Sisterhood’s water had broken, and things were starting to move.

I was not entering this bLirth-ing room alone!  I picked up my phone to call Erin and… nothing. Direct to Voicemail.  No response to text.  No response to email.

Erin- To quote one text from Ellen: “I am dying of excitement.  Colleen is pimping out our site so we can go live!  AHHHHHH! Please call me when you get a chance . I will respectfully continue to blow up your phone with every new development. ”

Ellen is using an emoticon.  She means business, but she doesn’t want to yell at me.  Yet.  Good grief.

Ellen -  Soooo, no response still.  Whatever.  This thing was happening.  Over the next 6 hours I proceeded to add some “final touches” to the site.  This blog was not ready for prime time.  I was laboring in the bLirth-ing room alone, people!  A-lone!  I felt abandoned like an iPad on the day they launch version “so-much-better-than-the-one-you-just-maxed-your-credit-card-out-on-three-weeks-ago.”

Erin- You are such a PC. Don’t be a hater.

Meanwhile, I was exactly where I told her I would be— teaching Advanced Math to middle schoolers.  After 13 years at home, I was dipping my toe back into a classroom as a substitute.  No horror stories to tell, but I couldn’t have been more difficult to reach if I were on the moon or at the bottom of a well.  When class ended, I checked my phone.  Ellen was summoning me, in ABUNDANCE,  back to the blog.

Ellen- FINALLY, my phone rang.  Erin was like, “Hey, I got your four emails and ten texts during math class.  Deleted your Voicemail.  I guess we’re starting today.”  Someone needed to go to some bLirth-ing classes, because this was clearly not the enthusiastic, supportive response required.

Erin- Oh, I wanted to revel in our moment.  I did. But jumping back into the classroom was the easy part of my day.  When I got home, an afternoon was brewing unlike any I have had since the days of endless sippy cups and potty-training.  

Cue a rising jungle beat crescendo. Serious stuff was going down at home. And Ellen needed my input. A LOT.

On this of all days, my kids decided to revert to their alter-egos Whiny, Clingy, Punchy, Needy, and Snotty. 

Charlie was in a panic, because his report wouldn’t print. He was on the verge of a breakdown.  Apparently, he had lost all memory of how to choose printers from the menu bar. Click. Crisis averted.

RRRIIIINNNGGGG (or really, new/age zen crap stanza)

Ellen- What do you want our Twitter user name to be?

Erin- Simultaneously, Biddie lost it.  Middle School is a vicious creature and was having its way with her. I needed to talk her out of her tree.  Hug.  Crisis averted.

RRRIIIINNNGGGG

Ellen- You have to “Like” our Facebook page for me to easily make you an Admin.

Erin- Charlie, now buoyant from his printer triumph, was wrestling with Deacon and Eddie all over the house.  At one point, they were perched together on the back of a chair like spider monkeys wrapped in headlocks.  Mommy yell.  Boys sent to their corners. Crisis averted.

Ellen- Yeah, I heard that one go down over the phone.  She might be sugar-coating it a bit.

Erin- Then Ace joined the fun. He couldn’t find his soccer referee card that he needed to be recertified.  Not in his room, his ref bag, his wallet, the wash. He was hyperventilating into a bag. Found the website and got his ID # electronically. Crisis averted.

RRRIIINNNGGGG

Ellen- Do you care if we have a gravatar before we launch?

Erin- And then my parents pick THIS moment to call, AND they want to talk about booking our summer vacation,   AND they are not tech-savvy, AND they want my help.  Oy.  I might cry or kill someone.

Ellen- Erin is the best. In the middle of all that was going down in her home, she took every phone call to answer every question.  I did giggle directly in her ear that SHE is her parents’ tech guru.

Erin- This was not an ideal environment to be having a moment, even a great one like the birth of our blog, with Ellen.  But that’s the way life rolls. It’s coming whether you are ready or not.

Ellen-  So, in the midst of Erin’s maelstrom, on January 11, 2012 at 5:47pm, I got the text from Colleen that we were live.  We were the proud creators of a bouncing, brand-new blog!  As I gleefully watched the visit counter spiral upward, I was so grateful that Colleen “bLaunched” us from our nest.  We needed the push.

Erin- Aww, look at you, using “bLaunch.”  And I was grateful too. The Sisterhood Secret: By all means, plan, but (and we are totally stealing this from Nike), in the end,  JUST DO IT.  Time to get blogging!! Happy BLirth-day!

We’ve linked up with Yeah Write Me

Snowflakes: An Easy Decoration to Cut Out With Scissors. Flakes: You're Lucky We Don't Jab You With Scissors.

Erin: Nothing says holiday like the full frontal assault of requests for volunteers.  From the Christmas parties to the Breakfasts with Santa to the Bazaars and Pageants, every school, church, and youth group is begging for your free time. Gear up, girls, this is our moment to shine.

Ellen: Ah, sweet volunteering.  Nothing can get more done or strip more nerves than a room full of women.  It is only December, and I could kill someone.

Erin: Don’t get me wrong.  I choose to volunteer.  A lot.  So does Ellen.This is how we “pay it forward”, and all I can say is that you want us on that wall.  Heck, you need us on that wall. We show up on time, do what we say we are going to do, play nicely with others, and clean up after ourselves.  The Sisterhood Secret when it comes to Volunteering? Hook a sister up—fakes, flakes, and troublemakers not welcome.

Yeah, I'm crafty and I like to party.

Ellen: To demonstrate proper volunteer etiquette, we have created this entirely FICTIONAL event so that no one thinks we are talking about her.  But if something strikes a chord, perhaps it is time for a little reflection.  It is NOT time to permanently claim your title as a “Pain in the Rump” by emailing us to complain.

Erin: So without further ado- Welcome to our Annual Penguin Craft Party! We wanted to subtitle it: “You might be a pain in the rump volunteer if…”  On further reflection, we decided to give this a more positive spin. Just know that if you violate these simple rules, we will dub you Queen of the PITAs (figure it out).

1.Respect the planning period!  If while setting up for an event that has been planned for months, you try to highjack it with the idea that just popped into your head, refrain. Take a deep breath. Count to ten. Think of that great trip you will be taking with your husband without the kids.  DO NOT utter your brilliant thought NOW or EVER. That ship has sailed.  Here is a little example to illustrate our point. Say, you are in the gym setting up for the Annual Penguin Craft Party.  Now is not the time to rally support for the idea that this party could be so much MORE if it had an Inuit theme and the kids worked together to make a true-to-size igloo.

Learning to Build An Igloo is Fun and Educational! Hooray!

2. But don’t be an idea killer!  Nothing breaks hearts and quashes spirits more than the simple phrase: “But we’ve always done it this way.”  DO NOT let these words leave your lips during a PLANNING meeting.  This is the time to let the creative juices fly!  It might be fun for the kids to toss live mackerel into the penguin’s mouth!  Builds hand-eye coordination and deadens olfactory sensitivity! Give every Sister her moment. Every golden idea was a dusty little nugget at some point.

3. Execute your own ideas!  If you throw an idea out there, be ready to catch it, and run with that ball. DO NOT expect your vision to magically happen. If your brilliant idea is going to take 50 million woman hours to pull off, you should think about putting in a lot of those hours yourself, not just patting yourself on the back for how creative you are.  Start Googling how to make that igloo!  Look up dry ice dealers!  Be ready to drag that dogsled yourself.

You might want to look up fish wholesalers, too, while you're at it. Remember the mackerel toss?

4. Just worry about yourself!  Everybody is a volunteer.  Nobody is getting paid, and everyone has someplace else to be.  You are hanging with the heroes.  If you spend more time complaining about all the people that never volunteer than you do making those papier mache penguins, you are bringing the Sisters down, and making the situation negative and unpleasant.  Stop griping!  Get pasting!

5. Follow the 10 second rule!  If you have called your event chair four times in the past day, take a deep breath and put your cellphone down.  You can solve this problem yourself!  Think for 10 seconds!  Remember that you are a competent, worthy volunteer.  Remember that your chairperson, though she may be clocking a few more hours on the project than you, is still just a volunteer. Remember your sweet little cherub’s face and why you are volunteering in the first place. Use the time you just saved to cut out some more penguin bills.

Sheila is just slapping posters on the wall with the tape showing. Showing I say! I think we should make those neat little tape loops so the adhesion to the wall seems like magic. What do you think?

6. Keep your cat fights to yourself!  If you start a spat worthy of a middle school cafeteria (even if you ARE standing in a middle school cafeteria) in the midst of the Snow Cone Booth, you are a bad Sister. Period.  It is NOT proper etiquette to squirt blueberry syrup down your Sister’s shirt no matter how satisfying it may feel.

We Have ALWAYS Run the Snow Cone Booth This Way! And Your Shoes Are Hideous!

7. Do what you say you are going to do!  There is no credit for great intentions.  The only thing that matters is results.  Nobody cares if your uncle is the Chief Penguin Wrangler at the local zoo unless you get him there.  If you volunteer for him to show up and talk to the kids, he better be there with some of his feathered friends even if you have to drive him to the event yourself.  It’s all about “follow through”, Sisters!

8. Bring a great attitude.  If it applies to kids, it applies to adults. You don’t have to whistle while you work, but don’t swear, bitch, moan, or gossip.  The penguins don’t like that.  Makes ‘em cranky.

9. Clean up after yourself.  We all have kids.  That’s what got us into this mess.  When our kids leave a path of destruction in their wake, we feel like killing them.  When you do it, we just feel like killing you.  You’re not royalty.  Don’t act like it.

Surely, if I can sweep up while wearing heels, you could handle cleaning up your space? You are the one who decided it would be a silly idea to hole-punch the 400 name tags over the TRASHCAN, choosing to do it over the CUPCAKES instead.

10. Keep it up.  Don’t be a One Note Nelly.  Consider doing a little something to make EVERY event a success.  Every time you put down that glue gun, another Sister has to pick it up.

Erin: But, seriously, thank you.  Everything you do makes our kids’ school, church, youth  group, and team better, and good Sisters always acknowledge a job well done.

Ellen: Yes, thank you, and remember the list, because Ho-Ho-Ho, it’s off to work we go.  Bring it, December!!