Sometimes I don’t know if you or Steve told me something because you two sound the same in my head.
Ellen: Yeah, I’m not sure what to say about that. Good thing I like your husband, Steve, or I might just be disturbed.
Erin: Just know it explains why I don’t use your many rolls of designer duct tape to seal up your pie hole.
Ellen: Anyway, beside sharing space in Erin’s head, we also share a penchant for decorating birthday cakes for our babies.
Erin: Since this week’s Monday Listicle over at Stasha’s blog The Good Life is “Birthdays,” we decided to share a few of the more inspired creations.
Ellen: The topic was picked by the funny and fabulous Robbie over at Fractured Family Tales. She loves all things sock monkey so swing on over and check her out.
Erin: So without further ado…
The Cakes
Steve’s Cakes
We’ll start with Steve’s cakes. His family owned a Carvel Ice Cream Store, so he has some real deal skills.
1.
Steve decorated this freehand for one Star Wars loving little boy
2.
How cool, I mean hot, is this cake?
3.
Deliciously creepers!
4.
Rubble never tasted so delicious.
Ellen’s Cakes
How memories are made
Ellen’s skills are purely amateur, but she does make her own marshmallow fondant. Her family also has a lovely tradition where the birthday girl gets her own mini cake to eat by herself…without a fork. Don’t worry. The guests get their very own saliva free cupcakes. Ellen is sanitary like that.
5.
The personal cake tradition dates back to the girls’ first birthdays, but this was the first cake where Ellen branched out with decorating. Ellen must bake multiple cakes for each party, but she does it with joy. And sprinkles. Lots of sprinkles.
6.
The mud is actually delicious fudge. In case you were worried.
7.
Who doesn’t think this is adorable?
8.
Flamingo Cake 1
9.
Flamingo Cake 2. We weren’t kidding about the multiple cakes.
10.
Why yes that is a Polly Pocket and we’re glad to see you.
Bonus!
This is Ellen’s most recent birthday cake: Coca-Cola Cake. It is not decorated elaborately, but it is chocolate heaven. This chocolate buttercream is going to be Ellen’s go-to frosting. You may be not be lucky enough to come to our parties, but we are kind enough to share the recipes.
Happy Memorial Day, everyone! I hope you have had plenty of family time and have taken a moment to think about our freedom and remember all of the women and men who have secured it for us. That’s what it’s all about, right?
Erin is spending Memorial Day Weekend at the beach celebrating Ace’s 15th birthday. But I’m relaxing with my family close to home, going to some parties, doing some baking, and attacking some yard work. So there is no reason to skip Stasha’s Monday Listicle: 10 WORDS THAT DESCRIBE YOUR HOME. A girl can only haul so much mulch or bake so many cookies without a break. Quick word of advice, don’t let those two activities cross paths. Mulch in baked goods cannot be passed off as fiber.
Erin's Weekend
Ellen's Weekend. This is totally representative of my discovery of the snake skin shed in the holly bush I was trimming. No exaggeration.
So where to begin? Erin threw out this helpful email, “My house is known as command central.” Gee, I think we all can say that. Not really enough to work with. Even though I’m not rollicking on the beach, I have better things to do than create lists out of thin air.
Then there is the post we wrote about Erin’s Oasis and my counter post about The Coco Room Apocalypse. Quite frankly, they provided TOO much to work with. And since my house hasn’t been completely clean since I started blogging, I was in no mood to review Erin’s neat house techniques, albeit, they are very good and handy.
See? I'm sappier than I let on.
So I was going to copy from this canvas on my wall because Erin has a very similar one hanging in her house. But it seemed very precious and quite frankly, a little plagiarize-y. I mean, do I really want to stoop to ripping off the equivalent a Hallmark card? I may have a touch of the sappy, but I ooze with integrity. I’m Googling right now to see if there is an ointment for that.
But I was inspired! The Listicle asks for words describing our homes, not our houses. I was on the right track with the wall art, but I needed originality. Our homes are the people who fill our hearts and clog our septic systems, not the disorderly conditions of our stray sock baskets. And since you can’t get more one-of-a-kind than the people in our lives, I present without further ado…
The People Who Transform Our Houses Into Homes
(While the names have been changed per our kids’ requests, the personalities are all real.)
Erin’s Army first…
They are almost this funny. Wait, they ARE this funny.
1. Ace. My oldest son just turned 15 years old and is completing his freshman year in High School. He is a huge sports fan and plays soccer and runs track. Ace looks like my husband and acts like me. He can make friends with a light bulb. He is funny, impetuous, and confounding.
2. Biddie. Her blog name came to me, because my husband’s family is Polish. They used this nickname for his sister when she was younger, because she was small but mighty. That’s our Biddie. Thirteen years old, smart, creative, funny, and athletic, Biddie is everything I wish I was at her age.
3. Charlie. He is my 11 year old who loves soccer, Comic Books, and hats. I swear that he is either going to be the Frat President in college or its mascot. The kid is slightly cracked, but in the best possible way. Everybody loves him. One of the nicest compliments a teacher gave us about him was that of the 24 kids in his class, twenty-three of them considered him one of their best friends. He is our soft, sweet center.
4. Deacon. He was the one I had the hardest time renaming for the blog. His actual name is soooo perfectly him that it was hard to imagine him or referring to him any other way. Deacon is 8 years old and loves to build LEGOs, play soccer, and do science and art projects. At home, we sometimes call him The Hammer, because he has singular focus and knows what he wants.
5. Eddie. Eddie is a total Momma’s boy. My husband implied that his obsession might be a little more than your average bear (do you see where we are going with this? Oedipal Complex?). Eddie is 4 years old and loves Star Wars, stealing the iPad2 from his siblings, books, and hiking. He is stubborn, smart, and adorable—a deadly combo.
6. Steve. Last, but never least, is my husband of 15 years, Steve. When I told him that I was going to use military-inspired aliases for the blog and I thought that I might call him The Colonel (you know, because I am The General), he said, “I feel more like The Corporal.” He makes me laugh most days, and he is the most patient, kind person I have ever known. He’s the best. You are just going to have to trust me on this one.
Now Ellen’s Crew…
Don't worry, we only wear these pants on Thanksgiving..for the stretch. Oh and on Groundhog Day...for the style.
7. Frank. He is my soul mate and the best father I could imagine for our two girls. We have been together since he hit on me on that fraternity house lawn. I am blessed to have his support and love. He is sharp and witty and definitely lightens me up. I might be a smidge intense. I do have a tendency to tell him that he is lucky I don’t have an addictive personality, because he might be a bit of an enabler. But hey, he boosts my ego when Coco gets done with me.
8. Coco. So, Coco is nearly 14. I think she really picked the alias Cocoa because she loves chocolate, but I changed it to Coco because the girl has style. She is a preternatural force. She brought me to my knees as an infant with her colic and sometimes we question if the colic ever ended. She is a musician, an athlete, an actress, a writer, and a first class student. God gave her to me to keep me in my place. You should thank her too, because she keeps me from thinking that I am all that and a bag of chips. I am happy and blessed to know her.
9. Jellybean. She is 11. She is the least pleased with any of this blog stuff. She is a girl you want as your friend. She is kind, but not sappy, and definitely has a bit of the imp about her; just ask the cat. She is fun with a silly sense of humor, but has a well-defined BS meter. She is happy to be with a group, but can go and do her own thing without forcing the group to conform to her. She brings her determination to her sports, her Legos, and her schoolwork. Jellybean just gets it done. Her laugh has brought me joy from the first moment I heard it.
Hmmm…I ran out of family members. Seems like we didn’t have Monday Listicles in mind when we were squirting out kids. So number 1o is a bonus funny…
10. Antique White. This is something both of our families ridicule tease Erin about. She wants to paint everything in her home “Antique White,” (I know, that’s a whole different issue). She actually thinks she has painted everything “Antique White.” I, along with the entire Army and Crew, are here to tell the world, and her, once and for all: HER CHOSEN COLOR IS YELLOW!
So I guess the moral of this story is that Erin can’t suppress her sunny, positive personality with the bland and mundane, even when she tries.
Fondly, Ellen
Booooooring Antique White or Sparkling Superfly Yellow? Which do you think fits Erin best?
Now check out the other great Listicles, although I can almost guarantee they won’t contain a flying Boohbah.
It’s Monday, but not just any Monday—it’s the Monday after Mother’s Day. Hopefully, you were treated like a queen, but if you weren’t (and let’s face it, there’s a 50/50 chance some of you were washing dishes or doing laundry yesterday), you deserve something sweet. And what is sweeter than revenge?
Our weekly dues to the Cool Kids’ Club over at Stasha’s Monday Listicles this week are 10 Things We Want to Delete. These movies sprang to our minds immediately because it was a crime against humanity that they were released. Sweet vengeance will be ours.
We usually like to talk movies, but these movies are sooooo bad they deserve nothing better than being gutted, filleted, and served up at their expense for your enjoyment. In retribution for sucking minutes of our life or life from our souls, we are taking this crew downtown and showing them no mercy. We split the list down the middle: Erin’s picks are italicized, Ellen’s are not.
If you saw them, sorry. If you haven’t, thank your lucky stars. If you actually LOVE these films, we are at a loss for words.
1. Showgirls—Forget the really bad casting decision to have the cute cheerleader from Saved by the Bell as one of the leads (Poor Elizabeth Berkley). Forget that the movie poster alone could serve as soft porn. But do not forget that this movie is so awful that even some gratuitous nudity couldn’t save it.
This movie is zero-fun where it had some chances to be and just pretty darn uncomfortable in other places. It’s so mock-worthy, but then you have to feel bad for mocking. Really, why the heck pay money for this? The poor girls at the heart of this movie aren’t sophisticated or privileged or even in on the mean-spirited jokes at the heart of this film, so you just feel kind of uncomfortable and icky watching the scenes unfold.
After Nomi, the character played by our hapless gal Liz, climbs her way to the top for her one moment of glory as a Vegas dancer, she says, “I just hope I am as good as the show.” Well, in THIS case, you certainly are.
2. Pirates of the Caribbean at World’s End— Poor Johnny Depp. When you are so beautiful and talented, you apparently forget that you are also human and make mistakes. Now, I can concede that the first in this series of movies was a bit of a romp and good fun. I can even agree that the second, while worse than than the first, still had some enjoyable moments. But THIS movie I cannot forgive, because you are Johnny Depp—you are deep and artistic and full of integrity and MONEY. And THIS movie is what happens when you have too much money and no brains. Steve likes to say, “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” Sorry, Johnny, we all love you, but this one’s a stinker and even your infinite charms can’t keep it afloat.
3. Beverly Hills Cop 3—This is a really old movie, but I remember it breaking my heart a little back then. The first two BHC movies were funny, campy, and just good old-fashioned movie FUN. Some might even argue that the first two movies are the stars in the crown of Murphy, but this soulless, joyless piece of drivel even seemed to break Eddie Murphy a little. Has he ever looked so spectacularly uncomfortable anywhere? The other movies were comedies with a little action, but this one was an action movie with a little comedy. They dropped the formula and thus rendered it nearly unwatchable. Eddie Murphy was never the same after this film and, for that, we all lose.
4. Glitter—When I told Ellen this was one of my picks, she said, “It has Mariah Carey, and it is called “Glitter”, what did you expect?” I should have known better. Truly. But it was kind of like a train wreck, I had to see just how bad it was. It’s abysmal. Three things pop immediately to mind: The chemistry between the leads would not power a lightbulb, the writers never met a movie cliche they didn’t like, and Mariah was incomprehensible unless she was singing. My main memory was hiding in my popcorn bowl every time the least hip man on earth said things like “you got no food in yo crib”. At least the popcorn was yummy.
5. Deadringers-— Okay this was billed as a psychological thriller, but it was just psycho in the worst possible way. It didn’ t make you think, “How clever!” It made you desire brain ajax to scrub the memories away. I usually purge the details of movies as soon as I see them or else I would never remember crucial things like my shoe size or where I stashed the chocolate. This movie was released decades ago, but it is burned into my neurons. I’ll share the trailer playing in my head: twin gynos (creepers) obsess over a woman, one goes off the reservation and starts mutilating woman (where’s the medical board!?!), he convinces his brother to go under his knife (WTF), disembowels him with a homemade torture chamber retractor (WTF!!), and then inexplicable curls up in the excavated corpse ‘s arms and dies. Yeah. 116 minutes of my life I would like back, please.
6. The Crying Game—I don’t dislike this film, because of the infamous reveal. My opening weekend seat in the front row, with my neck cricked back at a 90 degree angle, DID give that scene a whole level of intimacy I could have done without, but that is not the point. I felt punked, because the IRA action film I THOUGHT I was watching in the beginning dissolved into a lot of angst and, well, crying. I kept waiting for the action to return and it. just. never. did.
7. District 9— This movie stunk like the pile of bug guts that littered its landscape. It started out with such promise: the mockumentary was intense. And then. . . it just fizzled. Social commentary faded away. While the Crying Game could have done with a little less reveal, this film needed one. Big time. This thing might have been passable as a video game, but my popcorn didn’t come with a controller. If only it had come with a can of Raid.
8. Boxing Helena–I hate myself for even seeing this film, because I was warned in the title. I went into this movie with the idea that it was a romantic drama. Oh HELL no. This movie is romantic in the same way having pink eye is sexy: NOT AT ALL. Kim Bassinger had to pay over $3 million to renege on her contract and not star in this film. Best money spent. Ever.
I’ll cut to the meat (pun intended): Crazy doctor with mommy issues quadruple amputates a woman so annoying and nasty you don’t even feel sorry for her. And get this! Turns out it was all a dream. No pithiness. No resolution. The directors must have realized this movie was so twisted nothing could mitigate it, so they just obliterated it. And thus, more minutes of my life stolen.
9. Vanilla Sky—What is this movie about? I don’t know. I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW!! I could not remember the exact plot of this film, just that I hated it. A lot. So being the responsible blogger that I am, I looked up a synopsis. Yeah, I still don’t know what the movie was about, but I found this quote from the film that just about sums it up.
“I’ll tell you in another life, when we are both cats.” Sofia Serrano
Exactly.
10. Twilight—I might be bringing a whole world of hurt down upon my head, but I am just going to say it out loud: This is a BAD movie. I know it caused teens and Moms alike to lose their ever-loving minds. I saw the t-shirts (Go Team Jacob!), I heard the soundtrack, I read the book. I get the appeal. I understand the fervor. This is just a bad movie, and I won’t pretend otherwise. Most of the main characters’ movie acting consists of looking hot and gazing angstily (it may not be a word, but it fits perfectly) at each other. And don’t even get me started on the special effects. When I am reading, I am willing to suspend my disbelief—it’s part of the writer/reader contract—but when I am seeing it on film, it’s a whole new ballgame. In this case, the ballgame especially brings into crystal-clear and sparkly focus just how unbelievable it all is. And don’t even get me started on the sequels.
But we have a little sweet surprise for you. There is a cure for that which ails bad movies, and that, my dear bloggy friends, is Rifftrax. I was already a big fan of my BIL Dan and my sister Karen before they introduced us to Rifftrax. After we sat through our inaugural movie night in which the team from Rifftrax brought down the classic “Jaws”, Karen and Dan skyrocketed to the top of our Christmas list (you see the way to our hearts!) Now, Steve and I are true believers. Rifftrax’s tagline is “we don’t make movies, we make movies funny”, and they deliver BIG TIME. You can follow the link to check it all out, rent a riff, and even the DVD you want to mock.
So here is our Mother’s Day gift—a little Rifftrax preview takedown of “Twilight”.
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Happy Mother’s Year! Let’s make it the best one yet!
“I would rather sit through Ricky Bobby every day for a month, than sit through any of these for 15 minutes.” Ellen
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–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.
Share it real good . . .
I am a girl with a positive attitude—a veritable Pollyanna if you will. I can throw this sunny outlook on even the most horrific of circumstances. Just this morning, I described our Viral Menaceas the case of anorexia that might get me closer to my goal weight. See what I mean?
Anyway, there was a period of time this fall when the weight of our schedules and school responsibilities and life responsibilities was dragging me down. “I am tired, worn-out, and used-up. I’m walking out. Who’s with me?” Nobody even looked up from their cereal bowl. Except for Steve, who responds with this little gem.
Erin– In horror movies, the music rises, the lighting changes, and you know that evil and untoward things are coming. Our story is not like that. No warning, no ominous downbeat, but this foul thing landed in our household and when it unleashed its unholy wrath, we were defenseless. Skewing this a bit towards the melodramatic, you say? Well, buckle up. It’s a bumpy ride.
Looking back on our innocence on Friday, I actually tear up a little. At 3pm, young Eddie, who is only 4 and not yet the master of the graceful upchuck, booted all over the bathroom. Not a big deal. Five kids. Spit and the other thing happen—a lot.
Eddie proceeded to spew like a geyser for the NEXT SIX HOURS. I was considering getting him an X-ray to make sure he doesn’t have 4 stomachs like a cow.
Ellen– Good lord, woman, are you drinking enough fluids? Delirium is setting in.
Erin– Anyway, I washed my sick puppy, put him to bed, and cloroxed the bathroom. Crisis over. Oh, silly Erin, had I not learned how quickly things can go from kinda-bad to serious-sh%#-going-down to flat-out-apocalyptic mayhem?
Ellen – Can you say Pollyanna? Erin has 5 kids. This is not her first turn down Dysentery Drive. Let’s ask her brother-in-law whose family they nearly killed 2 years ago with The Great Pittsburgh Easter Virus. I’m pretty sure he is still holding a grudge for turning the family celebration into a CDC point source investigation.
Erin– Anyway, I might have heard that the preschool had a class-A-bigtime-stinky-virus, but that wasn’t what we had. A Sisterhood Secret is not to put much stock in rumors. I felt free to dispatch two of the boys to overnight sleepovers the next day. Umm, yeah, you can see where this is going. We were now THAT family.
Ellen– Yes, Erin sent biological bombs into not one, but TWO, separate sleepovers. What is that scratching noise you hear? That is Erin’s name being added to the top of every Black List in the county.
Erin– The phone calls started at 10pm. Kids were dropping like flies, and I was working hard to keep up, but at 12am, Mom was down too. I have almost zero recollection of the next few hours as our viral marauders had their way with me. Aliens could have landed, I dunno. . . Anyway, as I was completely sacked out on the couch or taking up residence in the bathroom, I had no time to think about how much worse this could get.
But apparently, it could get a lot worse. Steve took Ace to his soccer game, but exclaimed as Ace(14) opened the door, “You are going to have to find your own way home, because the plague is taking me down. Starting now.”
Ellen– Steve is not that kind of parent. This just shows how awful this thing was. And are you keeping score? Erin has just spread this crud to a whole new pool of victims.
Erin– I can only imagine what the parents who gave my child a ride home thought of us. But I was beyond caring. Being wrapped around a toilet does that to a woman.
And now Steve was out too. We were Night of the Walking Dead, except that the best we could do was kind of groan and crawl. The healthy were forced into medic duty with full exposure to The Menace. Good times.
And have I fully conveyed the virulence of this thing? By dawn, the Evil Viral Menace had claimed Biddie(13). I was a desperate woman now, begging for people to acknowledge my pain and suffering. I posted a pathetically transparent plea for sympathy on Facebook. People stroked my fragile ego and made me feel a little better, except for my brother-in-law. He did bring up the Easter thing.
Ellen– I told you there was a grudge. But she didn’t get to wallow in her little Facebook pity party for long.
Erin– Ace wanders over and says he STILL has a headache and blurry vision. Still? Huh? He wasn’t sick yet. I shook my head a little as if that would settle the information more coherently in my brain.
Ellen– Yes, Ace, with the unrefined information filter of a teenage boy, decided not to tell his parents that he got knocked in the head during the soccer game. He didn’t want to bother the sick parents. Kinda sweet.
Erin– So phone call to Ellen.
Ellen– Yes, it sounded like he had a concussion, but they were way too sick to go to the ER.
Erin– Yeah, the ER might have done us in. Our immunocompromised selves would either be further assaulted or end up killing some poor sick little old lady–not the best way to redeem our reputation as the Point Source for this mess in my hometown.
As the proud patient of the World’s Greatest Doctor, I was able to secure a private assessment of Ace’s concussion away from the ER with the caveat that we must wear masks so as not to infect the office. And we had to come in the back door. We were one step away from being quarantined.
Good news: concussion was mild and Ace was not in danger.
Bad news: two hours later, Ace fell victim to The Menace, too. That’s right, folks! 7/7. Seven in one nasty, viral blow!!
In my weakened state, I almost violated my tenant that motherhood is not a pissing contest. I nearly snarkasticly replied to my friend Nicole’s Facebook post: “And we are 5/5 with the stomach virus. Yay! We’re so nerdy that we even have to get 100 percent when it comes to illness percentages!” I was feeling a little competitive. What is 5/5 compared to 7/7? I refrained from posting, but perhaps mentioning her post here is equally snarkastic and competitive.
Ellen– Especially when you kind of stole her idea for the 7/7. And by the way, MY family was sick, too, albeit it with a much more civilized virus. No love coming my way. Just sayin’.
Erin– Perhaps both of you will take pity on me as the Viral Menace has beaten me down and blurred the lines of decency for me. I mean Nicole even sounded downright chipper in her post. I am not chipper. I am not happy. Clearly we had a different strain at our house.
This thing crushed even my inner Pollyanna. Perhaps some musical cue or lighting shift could have signaled to me that the darkness was about to descend. It would have given me time to invest in Saltines and Seagram’s Ginger Ale. Or, at the very least, to hang a crucifix in the window or some garlic on the hearth.
Ellen– Erin’s birthday is coming up and I’m getting her a whole house fumigation. What’s that? A call just came in from the Health Department. They are honoring me with a medal for community service.
Want to read what came before? Check out Part I and Part II.
Noteworthy: Erin started this blog while still fighting the virus and Ellen did final edit while in the pediatrician’s office with her youngest. We’re hardcore like that.
Share it real good . . .
Steve’s reply after I crawled up the steps to see if he needed anything. To set the scene, an hour ago, he had dropped Ace off at his soccer game with the instructions, “You are going to have to find your own ride home because the plague is upon me, starting now.” -Erin
[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 :P. 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.
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!
