You walk along a path that you’ve smoothed to your specifications. Suddenly, little dirt clumps start flying upwards while little mounds appear: you’ve gotten married! ‘Tis fine, and you smooth your path again, avoiding little divots and appreciating the new views after you trudge up some difficult hills.

Then you have a baby. You are thrown into a deep hole and your spouse is deposited into another. Like a cartoon, if you move your legs too quickly in panic while trying to exit the hole, you’ll just succeed in digging yourself deeper...

Read the original review, posted to Kari's Couch

Junior high is a tough time. I don’t think anyone would deny that. The implications of the awkward onset of puberty and the questions of sexuality, changing bodies, and raging hormones continue onto high-school and college.

A few years before I got my period, my mom gave me a book by a rather conservative author. I don’t think she really recognized it for what it was: a condemnation of the female body and emphasis that sex was something done only when the husband wanted it done. I didn’t finish the book because I was in tears during the first couple chapters. My mom took it away, figured out what it really said, and threw it in the trash.

Alas, there was no replacement. I learned things only via the rather dry biological descriptions in sex-ed, but didn’t get the real scoop on what “everyone else” was doing. What is really normal for a teenager: in looks, in function, in level of “experience” in the sexual arena?

Twenty years later, I received a free-for-review copy of Girlology: Hang-Ups, Hook-Ups, and Holding Out via the Parent Bloggers Network.

The familiar orange-pink swirled envelope came in the mail last week. This time, enclosed within was a DVD offering a free trial of NoodleNet, a safe way for kids to browse the internet. Sometimes it will be a fabric softener sample, or a DVD of a new television show, such as when "Meerkat Manor" came out.

I still have fond memories of the show "Cover Shot," for which I voted on a "final shot" as one of the original VocalPoint members. I was in "the Club" so early in the game that I actually voted on the design of the envelopes in which VocalPoint sends their product samples, coupons, and announcements!

Why did I become a member?

I had the pleasure of receiving a complimentary copy of Gwendolen Gross’ new book, The Other Mother. I dove into it enthusiastically for two reasons:

First, I am “in the middle” on the “Working Mom” versus “Stay at Home” mom battle: as a work-from-home-part-time gal, I can understand many of the benefits and drawbacks of each “type” of mother. I have plenty to say about how ridiculous this whole division is, and was curious to see how it played out in Gross’ fictional world.

Second, Gross is a friendly woman. We had a fun email exchange since she agreed to participate in the Chicago Moms Blog Book Club (sister blog of the Silicon Valley Moms Blog, where I am a contributor.) She sent me a copy of The Other Mother with a personal note and a bunch of cards promoting the book. Personal contact is so refreshing, and whenever an author takes the time to respond to his or her readers in this fashion, it pays dividends. If I feel valued, I will value that author’s book!

So what did I think?

The Cat's monthly book report was due today. He selected The Million Dollar Putt, which isn't surprising given that he loves golf!

Perhaps I should be a bit ashamed to admit that I purchased the supplies for his project before he even came home from school. I had an idea about what he'd put on the posterboard, so got some paints, felt, and golf-related stickers. I got sticky numbers (to number the flag,) and some various landscaping things.

He surprised me by deciding to go a different direction with his poster. (I forgot to snap a photo of it - but will once he brings it home again.) He used the felt for the putting area, but chose to create the entire hole instead of focusing on the final putt: he alternated colors of paint for the fairway to create that "groomed" look. He placed a marker at the start of the hole to be the tee. Why not use the sticker of a tee? Because in relation to his course, it was off-scale. ("Mommy, this is WAY TOO big!") I got the same story on the golf cart sticker: "Mommy, the golf cart can't take up this whole section of the fairway!"

Nearly two years ago, the Cat was asked to leave a private kindergarten. Among the unacceptable behaviors they cited, the most problematic was that he was pinching his classmates. When his teacher asked why, he couldn't answer. She asked me, but I didn't know either. The Cat hadn't pinched anyone before attending this school. I tried to get information about what was happing just prior to the pinch. Finally, we determined that the pinches occurred during times of transition.

One particularly problematic afternoon started because the other K-1 class came over to visit. When they left, the Cat pinched a classmate instead of saying "goodbye." This snowballed into a situation where the Cat couldn't explain his actions, so became more distraught when the teacher continually asked him "why." He didn't know why, and he was upset. The more upset he became, the more he acted-out, and the greater he was punished.

That day involved both a change in routine (that the other K-1 was invading "his" classroom) and then an unwanted transition (that his friend left the class to go back to his own.)

Although the Cat has matured a great deal since then, I was intrigued when the Parent Bloggers Network asked me to review Skill Building Buddies: Handling Transitions and Change.

The Cat's very first preschool experience ended in tears.

Mine.

I cried and cried the morning that the preschool director called to tell us not to come in. I was still crying when she came to pick up the fax machine she had lent me so that I could do the bookings for the preschool. (That's right, I lost my job in addition to losing a place for the Cat to go to school.) The Cat ran away, playing, oblivious at how deeply I was hurting - and completely clueless that the reason for my tears was directly connected to his behavior.

The Cat didn't know how to interact with his peers. He'd go up to a child, grin, and push them over. It wasn't meant to be malicious; it was his way of saying "Hey, let's play!" But he didn't know how to say "hello."

Kibbles Rockin' Clubhouse from Notabilities begins with a lesson and song about greeting words.

I wish I had that DVD when the Cat was going through his first attempts at socialization.

Last autumn, I volunteered to bring the pumpkin pie to the First Grade Thanksgiving Feast. The pies needed to be cut into uniform pieces to serve four classes worth of students. Since most store-bought pumpkin pies contain cloves – which the Cat is allergic to – I was going to make homemade pumpkin bars. They cut easily into squares (easier to serve than pie slices!) and would no doubt adhere to the school’s “Wellness Policy” because I knew I wasn’t going to use additional sugar, and I use real vanilla, no artificial flavors, and no funky preservatives. It seemed like a winning situation.

But I made a tragic mistake: Instead of just showing up with 13,284 pumpkin bars, I emailed the woman in charge of the volunteers to let her know of my plans. She had said to buy “four Costco pies and cut into bite-sized pieces.” I figured the mention of Costco was an attempt to let people relax about not having to bake themselves, so didn’t think there would be any reason to object to someone who wanted to take on that responsibility. So, when I volunteered, I said I’d happily bake bars.

Her response was, “The committee decided to serve Costco's pumpkin pies,” but that I was “welcome to bake a special pie for [the Cat.]”

In Michelle Lamar and Molly Wendland’s The White Trash Mom Handbook they refer to such committees as “The Muffia,” a term they lovingly lifted from I Don’t Know How She Does It. Indeed, this particular lady is leader of our school’s Muffia, but unlike White Trash Mom’s assertion that the Muffia wishes to condemn those who aren’t perfect, this particular “you must only bring store-bought goods,” was a twist on that. It is almost as though this particular woman wanted to make sure that I didn’t get credit for being capable enough to bake enough pumpkin bars for around eighty First Graders. (And, in this cruel twist, this meant that my son would be singled out as not having what the other kids had – and I had to foot the bill for all that nasty artificial crud, the leftovers which were returned to me, of course.)

Later, a fellow non-Muffia-Mom (who White Trash Mom would simply call a Fellow White Trash Mom - but I view this particular friend more as a Hippie-Free-Spirit more than straight from the trailer park) ran into the aforementioned woman shouting out directions to her volunteers. My very strong, unflappable friend whispered nervously, “I am SCARED of her!” Indeed, upon speaking to other moms, I learned there was no “committee” that decided on the Costco pies. The “committee” was just Muffy.

I received The White Trash Mom Handbook via the Parent Bloggers Network. It is written by the same gal behind the blog of the same name, plus with “inside-information” from her former-Muffia Friend “Tacky Princess.”

While I don’t listen to “Country and Western” or quite feel comfortable wearing tie-dye, I got some great tips from this book. Part of the White Mom Trash Philosophy (thankfully spelled out quickly at the start of the book) involves not worrying so much about what other people think. Indeed, I am very guilty of that: I am an approval-seeker, which means those “Muffia” folks definitely have a victim in me. (I have plenty of juicy anecdotes like the pumpkin pie one.) But if I learn to “take a chill pill,” I should be able to accomplish much more than if I am trying to live up to an unattainable standard of perfection.

Indeed, White Trash Mom talks about how the perfect people must have help. And in my neighborhood, they do: nannies, housekeepers, personal chefs, and personal trainers. I do not. And yes, I am sure there are plenty of folks in our school who don’t either, but the most visible folks are also the most pampered.

Being “White Trash” is not about bucking all expectations and rebelling loudly, because as is mentioned many times in the book, your kids will suffer. On one hand, being “White Trash” is “still holding on to the flicker of light [you] had before having kids,” but on the other hand, “you need to be involved in some manner because the school needs you,” so “think of yourself last and put your child first.”

“White Trash Mom” and “Tacky Princess” give a run-down on school volunteer opportunities with their unique cost-benefit analysis (ROI: Return on Investment.) They mention ways short-cuts can be taken without anyone getting truly hurt. It is essentially all about balance: not trying to be Superwoman, but also not being a complete slacker.

I admit that I found a few contradictions in the book, but that is because there are many contradictions in real life. For example, the book disapproves of the Muffia’s over-scheduling of kids’ activities, particularly sports activities where the child is unlikely to ever play professionally or even in college or high school. But one of the pieces of advice (that I cheered!) was to sign up kids for activities outside of school. That way, if a bully at school is making life miserable, the kid has friends from outside of school.

Indeed, my kids’ activities are primarily with kids who don’t attend their school. (And yes, the Cat’s soccer team is a “club sport,” where he had to try out. But I think everyone made the team. Shhhh! Don’t tell him!). My own tumultuous social life in elementary school was balanced by the many hours I spent dancing with kids who didn’t know my in-school social status. Having that outlet physically and socially was valuable for me, and I hope it is for my kids as well.

But I do agree with White Trash Mom that it isn’t productive for the kids to be pushed in multiple sports if it is all about the parents’ benefit instead of for the kids’ enjoyment. Knowing when it is about the kid and when it is about the parent is hard.

The White Trash Mom Handbook begins with a dose of social philosophy and psychology, and then continues on to actual “tips” to hopefully decrease stress while still supporting teachers in the “unwritten curriculum.” It is about keeping up with expectations and appearances in a way that benefit, instead of hurt, the kids. Tips about handling work, cleaning, and cooking are all in here. I’ll happily contribute to The White Trash Mom Cookbook (yes, I see a companion book in the future) because while the recipes in that section indeed look yummy and easy, I have a bunch of easy recipes that don’t rely so heavily on the processed foods. Being healthy need not be a Muffia-trait.

Even if you don’t like the term “White Trash Mom” – put away your biases or I’ll accuse you of being part of the Muffia -- The White Trash Mom Handbook is worth a read. (pick it up at Amazon) It challenges us to be true to ourselves and our instincts while still accepting responsibility for our kids and household. The book is humorous, practical, and surprisingly thought-provoking. It is going to take some effort to wean me from my wanting-to-please-everyone ways, but at least I know there are others struggling with the same tendencies.

Husband and I typically end up with multiples of the same gift, like the year we both got each other America. Typically the duplicates end up because Husband will talk about how much he wants something, so I'll buy it for him. But days before Christmas, he'll go out and purchase whatever is already wrapped under the tree.

So I stopped listening to his first choice, figuring he'd get it for himself. I focused more on the "lower down" priority items.

Last year he kept talking about a slingbox. But I thought I knew better. I wasn't going to purchase something he'd no doubt buy on his own during Thanksgiving sales or Pre-Christmas sales or Friday Fry's sales.

The day before Christmas, Husband mentioned how excited he was that he'd be getting a slingbox for Christmas. He assumed that is what I had already bought. He was ecstatic.

Except I hadn't bought one, of course.

Not wanting to disappoint him, I quickly went online to Best Buy and did an in-store pickup order. While the store itself had long lines and packed aisles, the in-store pickup line was small. We were out of the store - coveted present in hand - in less time that it took us to find parking.

And so, my first tip to those of you who have waited too long to shop for Christmas (or the latter half of Hanukkah) is to see which big stores have in-store pickup. It is easy to browse online for that perfect gift, and typically is pretty easy to pick it up since most stores have separate lines for their online sales.

(The one exception I found to this was when I bought a camera at Circuit City - the closest store was sold out, so I purchased it at a store a half hour away. Guess what happened? That store didn't have it when I arrived, but discovered that my local store did! In the end I got my camera, but that particular excursion took a lot of driving and involved confusion.)

Another idea is the dreaded overnight shipping - yet for stores like zappos.com that already ship overnight, you're golden. Still, most overnight shipping options are pretty pricey, so you might want to brave the malls.

Or, you could buy something that is electronically fulfilled, such as an iTunes gift certificate or an Amazon.com gift certificate delivered via email.

Plenty of websites offer extended content for a fee. No, I am not suggesting purchasing "adult materials" for your preteen cousin. Rather, for kids there are sites like Club Penguin, a favorite of my boys. While the basic experience is plenty of fun, being a member allows the little penguins to accumulate coins to purchase pet puffles, buy snazzy new outfits, and deck out their igloo like budding interior designers would. In the Cat's case, that means purchasing as many toy trains as possible to create a "rug."

For older folks, there is Happy Neuron. I learned about this brain fitness website shortly after I had realized that I wasn't very good at the Brain Age DS game. (And don't even talk to me about Big Brain Academy.) "Mommy brain" is no myth: my brain is so filled with details of appointments, tasks, and managing other folks' lives that I don't have time to read or do puzzles to expand the other parts of my brain.

As we age, our brain "sags" just like our bodies do. Those who keep mentally fit by exercising their brain end up faring much better than those who don't. Plus, it is fun (until the computer tells you that you are mentally weak, that is!)

Happy Neuron is offering a 20%-off holiday special on a year's membership to the website. Members have access to 35 games (plus 5 beta Wii games.) The games fit in five categories: visual-spacial, attention, executive function, memory, and language. Each game has several difficulty levels, plus the program itself will recommend games based on the user's weaknesses.

I tried using the "coach" function whereby the computer is supposed to take me through an optimum combination of games based on my preferences, time available to "work out," and my past performance. Unfortunately, this feature didn't work for me (I was given a login free for the purposes of review, but perhaps this is a feature only available to full members, not reviewers.) And so, I tried out the five free games.

Does it surprise you that on the "split words" game that I was able to do the one about football but did horrifically on the "agriculture" one? (I can still hear my grandmother's tsk-tsk from many years ago when she learned I couldn't tell the difference between different types of cows. Sorry, I don't know anything about farming.) I thought I would do fantastically on "Catch the Ladybug" because after college I was a research assistant in a visual psychophysics lab. We did lots of "search" experiments, and since I had to program and test such things, I became very good at visual search. But my downfall in this Happy Neuron game was my trackball skills. I saw the ladybug immediately, but had a hard time rolling my way over. Perhaps a traditional mouse would be better in this instance.

There are other games that rely on time where an individual's ability to move the mouse becomes a limiting factor. This concerns me for the grandparent-set who might otherwise benefit from these mind-enhancing games. For these folks, those games without a time limit (but which will still record time) would be more accurate: as their time decreases with practice, the improvement can be attributed more to mental performance and less to mousing-ability. But for games that stop if the user fails to provide the answer, the individual wouldn't be able to practice the actual task unless the time required could be increased.

I love that there are a variety of games to "train" the user so the "workouts" are not boring. The site has a section on brain fitness science, plus has recommendations for other (sometimes offline) products. In addition to the aforementioned Wii games in beta, there is also a "Happy Neuron Junior" program in development. The Cat loves various games, particularly online. Although some of the games I've played through Happy Neuron are perfectly appropriate for him, I imagine the "junior" version will have aspects (such as in the "language" category) that will better fit his grade level.

Consider Happy Neuron for that otherwise difficult-to-buy-for adult. Grandmothers have enough perfume, bath oil, and lotion. And does Granddad really need another tie? Young(er) adults would like these games, too, so don't think your recipient needs to have grey hair. (I think my parents are sharper than I am at this point, anyway.)

Or maybe spend some time on the site yourself; it certainly wouldn't hurt! After all, the present I am getting for Husband is one that I hope to get myself at some point. This is one year where I'm actually hoping for a duplicate (but not expecting it.)

The Cat is quite intelligent, at least in academic matters. He's creative, curious, and can make connections very well. But somehow, if the intended connections, schemas, rules, and intuition is in regards social skills, he stumbles. He's one of those "quirky kids" who was diagnosed with pdd-nos, a "catch-all" diagnosis on the autistic spectrum.

As part of his IEP, he receives pragmatic speech and social skills group pull-outs at school. Truthfully, I haven't seen results. He's laughed at social skills DVDs and seems to enjoy them (particularly when the kids act goofy as part of the "how not to behave") but hasn't really put the information to use. One year we sent him to a social-skills camp, but while that may have helped him pay attention to his behavior, I actually wonder if being so analytical about it actually created an artificial situation: he ended up being hyper-sensitive to each mistake, which then created panic and an inability to remember the "correct" response. And then there is the matter of positive role models: he was with some kids who really had some odd social behaviors.

It is embarrassing to admit, but there are certainly times when I want to just throw my arms up because he's done something inappropriate, seemingly without "common sense." And then there are those days that he seems totally "normal" waving good-bye as he says brightly, "Bye Katie! See you tomorrow!"

From left top: Kristin Chenoweth's "Glinda Bubble Dress", Elphaba baby prop, Madame Morrible dress. From left bottom: Nicolas Dromard (Fiyero), Jonathan Ritter (Swing) wearing Dr. Dillamond's mask)

Not really a Wordless Wednesday, since I could gush about it for hours... At the start of the holiday break, Husband and I went to see a behind-the-scenes presentation of the fabulous musical pictured above. Last night we actually saw the show. I had seen it before, a few years back - and had read the book (Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West ), the sequel (Son of a Witch), and have the fancy collector's book about the musical, "The Grimmerie." It was nice to see it again - and this time bring my husband. He was thrilled it actually had a plot (whereas he says Phantom does not, but he does love Rent) and he is actually interested in reading the book now. Go figure!

I love musical theater. It is just so magical to me, particularly as I remember what a thrill it was to be on a stage while I was a dancer. For awhile Phantom was my favorite. Then Rent. And sure I had that obsession with Cats many years ago, as the rest of the country did. (And yes, my dance company did a version.) But Wicked takes things to a whole new level. (I still have heavy allegiance towards Rent, which is a different animal, and moving in its own way.) I should probably admit that I've read Kristin Chenowith's biography, too, shouldn't I? (A Little Bit Wicked: Life, Love, and Faith in Stages)

After it was all over last night, I was really sad. It is such a treat to go to a show like this, and then such a letdown that we must leave all the glitter and song behind to go about our regular lives. It was a fabulous escape!

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Disclaimer: the Amazon links give me a few cents if you happen to purchase something on Amazon after clicking on one of them. The books I mention I purchased with my own money years ago. The kind folks from Wicked gave me the tickets gratis, with no obligation to post, nor further compensation for doing so.

Oh, I know what you are thinking. No, I'm not talking about the type of Family Game Night where everyone is wearing matching turtlenecks with identical smiles. Yes, I know the importance of sitting down to dinner together and spending time together, but realistically it is tough.

Usually "Game Night" it is not exactly a scheduled situation. Rather, it is a spontaneous, "Hey, will you play Towers with me?" Or my two boys will start playing together, but then the first gets bored so the second asks a parent to join in. Then the first comes back. The fun catches on.

A lot of times our family gravitates towards games on the Wii, such as our latest acquisition, Tony Hawk's Shred. This game was exciting to receive because while I love Wii Sports Resort, they don't allow goofy-foot snowboarding. But Tony Hawk does!

But recently, I had the pleasure of obtaining several new board games from The Wonder Forge, the creators of ZimZala Games for older kids, and I Can Do That games for preschoolers.