Racing, Writing, and Marriage: All About Marketing


The two in the middle are mine. That tall kid on the left is just a pizza-loving friend.

When I got the call to help promote some local appearances for NHRA drag racer Hot Rod Fuller, I was all, no problem. When I was asked to write a post about it, I was all, hmmm… do my readers really care about a race car driver giving away pizza at the Walmart? However, they said he’d give me an interview, and I need practice so it was ON.

Plus, I had plans without children that evening. The free DiGiorno stood in for dinner.

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Christmas in October

The official day this year is Friday, November 25th. That is the day my family is allowed to start singing Christmas songs. I have nothing against Christmas music. I rather enjoy it. But only during the season. There is nothing worse than a cheerful child’s voices singing about dashing through the snow when it’s 85 degrees outside. It’s crap like that can ruin a holiday. If you ask me. And you didn’t, nor did my family. The difference between you and them is that they must abide by my rules. Or find loopholes. Hence:

 

We wish you a happy Halloween,

we wish you a happy Halloween,

we wish you a happy Halloween

and get lots of candy!

Good candy to you, to you and your kids

We wish you a happy Halloween and get lots of candy!

“What? That is NOT a Christmas song.”

Little shits.

Image: D’Arcy Norman, Flickr

 

Mark Hates Gays: Notes from the Bible Belt

 

I picked up my son and his friend from the bus stop. It was only my second time in the carpool rotation and I was still feeling my way around the social life of teenage boys. I suspected their lack of interaction might indicate a rift, but I knew enough to keep quiet until I dropped Mark at his door.

“Did something happen between you two?” I asked, once it was just my son and I in the car.

He took a deep breath. “Well… Mark hates gays.”

Read the rest of this post on Modern Mom.

Things You Learn Signing Permission Slips

It was a banner morning for permission slips. My daughter was on top of things, as usual. One after another she handed me papers, indicating the line or square that required my authorization.

“What’s this?” I asked about the third one.

“Field trip. Band class.”

I signed it, and entered my phone number on the appropriate blank.

“Don’t you need to put the four-seven-nine?”

“Your music teacher knows our area code.”

My daughter sighed and shook her head. “Mom, she’s a hippie.”

Then she filled in the 479.

Image: Etenil, Flickr

From One Mouthy Housewife to Another

Dear Mouthy Housewives,

I just became Room Mom of my daughter’s Pre-K class. I didn’t really want to do it, but nobody else volunteered. The first event I did—a Welcome Breakfast–was a simple affair because the kids are still young and I didn’t have a lot of time to organize. I thought it was fine, but now I hear that a lot of the moms were making fun of the event and calling it a “Cheap Breakfast.” Should I say something to them? Make sure the next thing I do is nicer? Hit them with my car? This is all new to me and I’m panicking!

Signed,

Dubious Room Mom

Read my answer on The Mouthy Housewives

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Image: spaceoddisey, Flickr

Sorry Salahi, I Stopped Believing

by on October 4, 2011
in Marriage, motherhood

Dear Family,

I might have been kidnapped.

Unlike Michaele Salahi, if this real housewife goes missing, it’s probably true. With the house and the kids and the job, and tripping over your combined 76 pairs of shoes, I just don’t have the time to orchestrate a fake abduction.

Besides, who would I count on to contact the right media? You’re all too busy with school, work, and imaginary sports. And you know what they say: No publicity is no publicity.

Read the rest of this post on Modern Mom.

Image Credit: Andrea Rinaldi, Flickr

Don’t Blame the Skirt

School officials in California and Florida are requiring cheerleaders to cover their skimpy skirts during school hours. The schools in question don’t seem to be troubled with the girls wearing the minimal clothing at actual games, but the girls must wear sweats over (or biker pants under) their revealing uniforms while at school. Cheerleaders say the new restrictions are “dorky,” and “unfair.”

An image provided by a member of the San Jose, Calif. cheer squad shows that cheerleaders’ uniforms haven’t changed much in the last twenty-five years. So why the debate?

Read the rest of this post on the Today Show Moms blog.

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Image: a4gpa, Flickr

Please, Mom, Don’t Embarrass Me on Facebook

When my son set up his Facebook profile I provided him a list of non-negotiable rules to follow. At the end of my proclamation I asked if he had any rules for me. “Just don’t embarrass me,” he said.

Fat chance.

I’m his mother. Nearly everything I do embarrasses him. But I try. No holding hands in public, no referring to him as my baby in the written word, and no attempts at the teenage vernacular. Until recently, the lines of his social life and mine have been clearly defined, but Facebook has changed all that. If we’re not careful, our social circles could become unnaturally intertwined, and as the grown-up I feel responsible to maintain the borders of this strange new land.

Read the rest of this post on the TODAY Show Moms blog.

 

 

 

 

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Image: austinanomic, Flickr

He’s a Smooth Talker, Clearly

by on September 20, 2011
in It's All About Me, Marriage

When I started representing Peekaboo Magazine on the morning news earlier this year, I immediately went to Target to stock up on liquid foundation and extra blush. On my assigned Mondays I have gotten up at 4:45, plastered on a TV-worthy mask, and tried to be perky for the cameras. It’s fun, I’ve learned a lot, including the fact that people who look small on TV are actually of the Elfin race. I now understand eating disorders and addictions to plastic surgery. Let’s just say hi-def keeps you humble.

The news segments continue to be a wonderful experience, but one thing had to change: the drag queen makeup. I had been toying with the idea of toning down the makeup for weeks and then I got the perfect opportunity. I had to work a shift for a school fundraiser immediately following my last appearance. I’d be sorting books in a dusty warehouse, with a bunch of moms I’d never met. I feared My Dancing with the Stars look would not be well received.

So I wielded a lighter hand. With the exception of a little extra blush, I wore the same makeup I wear on any other day. (Okay, the days I actually shower and get dressed in something more than yoga pants.)

As soon as I’d finished at school, I came home and watched the clip, which of course is not hi-def. I asked my husband later if he’d watched the news that morning.

“Yeah, depressing topic.”

“I know. How did I look?”

He knows the answer to this one. “You looked great.”

“Thanks, but did I look different?”

Flashes of terror, confusion, and decision moved over his face. “Yes,” he said.

“I’m not asking you to say I looked different. I want to know if I did.”

“You looked great.”

“But did I look different. Because I did my makeup differently.”

“Uh… yeah, you did.”

“What did I look like?”

“You looked… clean.”

As opposed to all those others times I’ve been on video looking like a dirty girl? “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. You just looked really clear.”

“Like I was in HD?”

“Exactly!”

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Image: ThiagoJ, Flickr

 

 

Got Condoms? Your 6th Grader Might

New York legislators have renewed a national debate about sex education by passing a law that requires—for the first time in twenty years—detailed sexual health instruction for middle school and high school students. While many New York schools have been distributing condoms for decades, the new curriculum actually teaches children as young as eleven how to use them.

Abstinence vs. public health vs. Teen Mom I’m torn. While I like comprehensive sex education in the abstract, I’m not sure I want my eleven-year-old daughter practicing with latex and bananas. No worries here in Arkansas. So far, she has only seen The Video (probably the same one I saw at her age). Next year she will participate in a week long abstinence-only sex-ed class that relies on STD scare tactics and a not-so-subtle implication that premarital sex is a VIP pass to Hell.

Read the rest of this post on TODAY Show Moms.

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Image: Tomizak, Flickr

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