Drops of Awesome

Personal Blog of Author Kathryn Thompson

Best Day Ever

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Today I did something I should have been doing consistently for just years now. I “let” Laylee help me clean the house. This was rare and precious both because I was actually cleaning the house and because I let Laylee be a part of it.

Usually I try to plan activities to keep her busy if the cleaning bug bites me but today she asked meekly, “Mom. Could I please help you scrub the kitchen floor?”

“Um. Sure.”

“Oh THANKS! Will you please save me some of the really sticky parts.”

The really sticky parts are vast and the grid pattern makes it easy to section off the floor into sticky chunks for easy division of labor. I got out a couple of rags so we could do the job Cinderella-style. When Laylee would get up to rinse her rag she would charge me forcefully with the task of saving her sticky squares so she could do them when she got back.

And she did… beautifully. She is a natural at slave labor and she begged for more. So I let her scrub the outside of the fridge and promised that she could scour something tomorrow. She asked me to never clean without her and I made a binding promise. (Future Laylee if you’re reading this, you now know you have no one to blame but yourself.)

In her prayer at bedtime, she thanked God for the chance she had to clean the floors with me and get all the crayon out of the grout. And pieces of my soul floated heavenward and were enveloped by the laughing moon.

Magoo is obsessed with all things Cars. When we arrived at Costco tonight, he saw the pizza stand and yelled, “FOOD! CA-CHOW!” and I loved him well, even though he doesn’t yet pray with fervent thanks for the opportunity to give me spa pedicures on demand. I’ll keep working on that. Maybe by the time he’s 4…

Were you wondering how much of a dork I am? I will tell you how much of a dork I am. At the park today I saw a woman reading the August issue of Parenting Magazine and I wrestled with myself about whether or not to approach her. Periodically they reprint small blurbs from my blog and I happened to know off the top of my head that there was a picture of Laylee’s fuzz-ball hair on page 32. What’s the point in being minimally famous if you can’t tell complete strangers that you are?

So as we pushed our kids on the swings, I nonchalantly said, “My daughter’s picture is in there on page 32.” And she gave me the best response ever.

“Oh!? Is she the hair?”

Yes! Laylee “the hair” Daring. It’s her new mafia name and I couldn’t be prouder.

Intolerance Intervention?

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Can I tell you how much I love getting email with the subject line “Re: Intolerance Intervention”? Very much do I love it and I’ve been getting a lot of it lately.

I’m really excited to be speaking on a panel at BlogHer next week and I’d like your help preparing. The topic is Intolerance and here’s the official synopsis:

Does the Blogosphere Need an Intolerance Intervention?
What are the benefits and drawbacks of speaking across divides, and trying to be a “bridge”? What do we gain and lose when we assume we’re blogging to people a lot like ourselves? Let’s talk about insularity, authenticity, intolerance, and diplomacy. At times, bloggers can be like indie bands, risking having their original fans stop liking them the minute they start being appreciated by a more diverse audience, outside the original “club”. There’s bloggers who cross all sorts of potential barriers…and bloggers who like it in their own neck of the woods just fine, thank you very much, go away if you disagree. Do Birds of a Feather groups encourage intolerance? Or are diplomats “sellouts”? Decide where you stand. Liz Henry moderates this discussion around a topic a lot of us observe, but few of us say anything about. Bloggers like Laina Dawes, Tish Grier and Kathryn Thompson have a few stories to tell!

I was included in this session largely because of formative experiences I had a few months after I started my blog. They really shaped the way I feel about tolerance and ethics online and helped me take what I was doing much more seriously. I came to think about blogging as a community-building experience and not simply an outlet to dump my thoughts into each day.

When I was fairly new to blogging, some good online friends nominated me for a small award. The stated purpose of the awards was to recognize blogs that brought beauty into the blogosphere and the woman running the contest was Christian. She wrote an obviously religious blog and it was understood that the awards were meant to recognize Christian bloggers.

I found out about the awards after I became a finalist and was so excited not only to be nominated for humor but by a group of women who had included me in their religious community even though I don’t often blog openly about my faith. As a Mormon, I was pleased to feel accepted by a circle of mainstream Christians, a group that doesn’t often recognize my religion’s central belief in Jesus Christ as Christianity.

The day after I won the award however, a prominent blogger in the community publicly outed me as a Mormon (something I thought everyone knew if they’d ever read my blog), and wrote a scathing post about my participation in the contest and the lack of discernment shown by my readers.

Needless conflict and drama ensued, during which I formed some of my strongest blogging relationships to date, several with women who had much more in common theologically with my critic than they did with me, several who have no religious leanings but simply rock solid morals and character, and some who were just so flippin’ hilarious that they helped me get through the pettiness of it all.

Without sharing my specific thoughts on the subject of online intolerance (I’ll blog more about that after the conference.), I’d love to hear what you have to say. What questions would you ask me as part of that panel? What thoughts would you share if you were on it?

Voldemort Can’t Stop the Rock

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potters4Really really loud music in the library maybe sometimes sort of can stop the rock… if you’re attending the concert with small people, people who have tiny and delicate ears.

I’ve been boiling over with excitement to see my favorite literary-themed garage punk band Harry and the Potters live in concert ever since I was blown away with their original hit song This Book is So Awesome a few months ago.

Apparently they planned to hold a concert in their shed but when all the bands canceled, they wrote an entire CD in the course of an hour and performed it that night to an audience of themselves and their 5 friends. Out of that evening was born the legend that is Harry and the Potters.

Now they’ve released several albums and have all kinds of merchandise for sale. They’re touring the country to huge “sellout” crowds at mostly free concerts.

potters3We took Laylee and Magoo and stood in a gigantic line on Friday night outside the Seattle Public Library. The kids danced for money but were thrown none. I don’t know what this world’s coming to but when I see a 2-year-old in downtown Seattle, spinning on his head while waiting to get into a rock concert, I tend to throw down some coin.

I’m pretty sure our family would have won the award for the oldest AND youngest people in line. We would also have won the award for Least Obvious Wizard Costumes and Most Likely To Wear a Color Other Than Black.

potters2After dancing in line for an hour, we made our way into the library, up the giant lime green escalator and into the atrium. Music played on the speakers and Magoo rolled and boiled around on the floor, alternately playing dead and break dancing. At one point the ultra cool security guard said, “Nice moves man,” and at another I said, “Watch out dude or you’re gonna get squished by a goth tween.”

Then the Potters came out.

They sang Voldemort Can’t Stop the Rock.

potters5

We cheered and plugged little ears. Laylee cried that it was too loud and we headed home because it was bedtime and because I like standing in line for an hour to listen to 2 minutes of a concert. I am what they call “a mom.”

My only regret is that we didn’t hear them sing This Book is So Awesome.

Tip Tuesday — Road Trip Giveaway

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wash2Shannon says everyone’s doing giveaways and maybe she’s right…

Since moving to Seattle we’ve put thousands of miles on Vinny, driving back and forth to visit stubborn family all over the country who refuse to pick up stakes and move in next door.

I was even insane enough to travel alone with 2 kids, 14 hours each way to visit my parents this spring. Very seldom do I come across breakthroughs in travel with offspring. This 4th of July week, I came across two.

1. Wash the Car — Every time we stop for gas, the kids want to get out and run around. This usually involves yelling at calling loudly with love and logic to them as they dodge semi trucks in the parking lot, wrenching away the candy that they are loudly clutching to their bosoms in the convenience store and helping them collect cigarette butts in the “field” behind the trash bin.

No more!

washWe now play a new game entitled “Wash the Car” in which the children, in fact, cleanse the family vehicle. While Mommy’s pumping gas and daddy’s powdering his nose, the kids each get their own squeegee and are instructed to clean the car as well as they can until the car wash timer clicks. (It sounds a lot like the handle on a gas pump releasing.)

They love it, especially when the washing fluid is pink, and I feel a bit better paying $10/gallon for gas if they throw in a couple of gallons of fun for free.

toob32. Toobs of Joy — Until this trip, I had yet to find a toy that would keep my toddler busy for more than 30 seconds while he was strapped into our mobile torture chamber.

At the drugstore in our little town, the drugstore where the pharmacists have a baby swing and a pak-n-play behind the counter to keep their kids close at hand, I purchased a toob of joy.

Magoo sat with the Farm Toob on his lap and joyfully emptied out each animal, identified it loudly and then shoved it back in again. He continued like this for at least an hour. As far as I can remember, Magoo has never done anything for an hour since he spent that long keeping himself plugged in my nether-regions during child birth. Apart from one minor incident with a rooster wedged under his butt for a couple of hours, the Farm Toob experience was one of bliss and joy. They’re detailed, well-made and perfectly pudgy-fist-sized.

The Farm Toob is my favorite all time road trip toy and now I want to collect them all.

downonthefarmtoob

pettingzootoob

penguintoob


Even more than that, I want you to have them. So I called the manufacturer Safari LTD and they very kindly sent me two gift packs with three toobs each and some other fun stuff to give away to my readers.

Sadly they included no gift for me, but then I already have the Farm Toob and the memory of an hour of joy on the road.

Leave a comment to be put in a random drawing for the gift packs. I’ll draw 2 winners Friday July 20th at midnight PST.

I’d love to hear your road trip ideas, but you can just say, “Hi,” or, “Give me plastic,” and you’ll still be entered.

If you don’t win, you can buy them here, here, here and here. I’ll be buying them from ye olde tiny drugstore down the street.

***Update – The winners are comment #91 and #99, April C. and Seabird. Congratulations and thanks for all the great tips!***

Click to Read My Product Review Policy

My B-Boy

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My indoctrination of Magoo is nearly complete. At Grandma’s house he learned to do head spins.


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The other day in the car I was listening to an old Bread CD when Magoo got super excited and yelled, “HEY! MOM! Go dance!”

HEY! I went. I danced.

When a Destiny’s Child song came on the butt-shaking radio station, he got DOWN in his car seat (”˜Which song?’ you ask me. Does it really matter?). Mariah Carey was next and he would not so much as twitch to Emotions. Perhaps he is opposed to long runs that end in high notes only wee doggies can hear. Perhaps he was not a fan of Glitter. Whatever the reason, he refused even a direct command to shake it for mommy.

Me: Dance buddy.
Magoo: NO!
Me: Do you only dance to Destiny’s Child now?
Magoo: Yep.

Which saddens me greatly because as much as I like my kids listening to songs that teach them to “leave their men at home because the club is full of ballers with their pockets full grown”, and “all the mamas who profit dollas, throw your hands up at me,” I don’t currently own any of their compact discs.

And oh how I love to watch him get down.

So Help Me I’m Ready to Toss Everything

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It is hot and I want to throw things. Every possession in my house seems to be radiating heat and I feel that most of it must go, mostly the parts that belong to the children.

I am sticky and ooey and gooey and hot. I can’t sleep, I can’t stop whining, and there is no way to get as naked as I want to be and still get the grocery shopping done. This is the only time of year that I envy Magoo’s freedom to sport a dashing onesie in public.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that Seattle is no hotbed of summer boilery but since 90 degrees is considered a heat wave here, there is also no infrastructure for the cooling, no air conditioning, no swamp cooler, no bathtub full of ice to spend the day in. I do have an industrial fan which blows the hot air around in a way that almost tricks me into believing it’s only EIGHTY-five degrees in here. The only problem is that it’s so bleeping loud that I have to turn it off every few minutes so I can hear myself think.

When it’s off all I can think about is how hot I am, how hot Dan is (HOT DAN!), and how much I want to throw all of my children’s belongings away while they sleep. I’m fractious people, fractious and antsy.

This house is full of things, things that need to be put away and things that should never be put away unless “away” is in a waste receptacle or happy meal box. Then the happy meal box should be put in a waste receptacle. There are toys the kids have never played with, loud toys the kids have played with so much that my ear wack is vibrating, toys with a million small pieces spread equidistant from each other in every cranny of the estate, toys that make Laylee do things she knows she’s not allowed to, and toys that are just butt ugly. I hate butt ugly toys… and sweat.

I hate sweat, which makes me more angry at the toys. I really believe that they’re sucking the cool from the air and replacing it with not-cool. I want to pull every toy and puzzle piece out of every room, closet and kitchen cupboard, throw them into the living room until they’re waist-high, let the kids pick 3 toys each and give the rest to Good Will.

Next I’ll throw away polyester, Tupperware containers with no lids, clothes that don’t fit humans (dolls prefer to be naked anyway), my New Kids on the Block cassette tape, cables and cords not currently connected to a working electronic device, and anything green that’s too weak to defend itself. Maybe purple too, but only if it isn’t gold-trimmed.

(Okay. For real I was kidding about NKOTB. But dude, everything else goes.)

Back to Me

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I’m becoming obsessed with documentation, passports, social security cards, Canadian citizenship records for my kids who were both born in the U.S. The rules are changing for international travel and I just want us all to be prepared in the event we need to take an emergency flight to Hawaii or something. Do you need a passport to travel there? I know it’s like… a “state” and everything but you need a passport to travel to Canada now so it appears that nothing’s off limits. Or maybe everything is.

Strangely enough, the United States Social Security Administration website is enforcing some kind of curfew. Late last night I tried to search for the nearest office. I logged onto the site. I entered my zip code in the little box. The site came up with an error message:

We are sorry for the inconvenience, but the Social Security Office Locator is not available at this time. The service is available during the following hours (Eastern time):
Monday: 3:00 AM – 12:00 AM
Tuesday through Friday: 3:00 AM – 2:00 AM
Saturday: 3:00 AM – 11:00 PM
Sunday: 7:00 AM – 11:00 PM
Holidays: 3:00 AM – 11:00 PM

I don’t think the US government quite “gets” the internet. The internet does not need to take a potty break or a naptime. The internet is not subject to labor laws.

I can understand that the site may need periodic maintenance, but set hours? I think what they’re really doing is telling me to get my butt in bed and that stomps all over my [mumble] [mumble] amendment right to stay up late like an idiot.

And the Winners Are…

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The random winners of the Roadtrip Giveaway are April C. and Seabird. Congratulations and thanks to everyone for all the great tips!

If for any reason they are unable to fulfill their duties as plastic tube winners, we’ll draw more names at random.

Well Enough About Me

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Let’s talk about you for a minute. (Be sure to answer the questions at the end of the post!)

A while back I asked you all to fill out a survey for me. The results are in and they’re fascinating.

74% of Daring Young Mom readers are between the ages of 21 and 34. No one over 75 or under 18 admitted to reading this blog.

I’m surprised that only 3% of the readers surveyed were male. I’ve always been very popular with the men folk. Maybe they couldn’t handle my year-long period of lactational discourse shortly following Magoo’s birth.

Although I live near Seattle, I’m actually located in a very small town. A quarter of you also live in small towns or out in the country but more than half make your homes in the suburbs. For some reason, my blog does not appear to be massively appealing to the urban crowd.

Most of my readers are middle class but those few of you making over $500,000 annually, please email me. I’ve got some great ideas for how you could spread around the love.

Very few of you have more than 6 kids yet so I guess most of us are still getting started. We’d better get busy.

96% of my readers have had at least some college education. Rock on educated ladies! … and you few gentlemen.

Your political views are all over the place with the biggest portion of you (45%) listed as republicans.

Half of you have a valid passport. The rest of you should get on that if you want to visit my motherland any time soon. I’m working on getting one for Magoo tonight actually.

For the most part, you’re churchgoers, or at least you claim to be for internet research purposes – with the largest group, roughly a third of you, being Mormon.

Your occupations are so varied I think I could staff an entire mini-civilization with your expertise. I’ll let you know when there are job openings for the Daring New World.

You need to send more email, preferably to me.

More of you watch Saturday Night Live than any news show, more American Idol than The Office and if so many of you watch What Not To Wear, why have none of you nominated me to be on the show? I’d gladly be humiliated for an hour for the chance to get a whole new wardrobe.

You use the PCs, although I suspect that many of you like me dream of switching to the Mac.

You started reading blogs right around the same time I started this one.

You like your internet speed high and 62% of you have your own blog.

More than half of you use Blogger.

30% of you only read one blog per day. Awww… geee…. Thanks. Oh. You didn’t mean mine? I still like you.

You read blogs for humor, personality and perspective but you like mine anyway.

60% of you never use RSS to read blogs. It really makes life much easier, ya’ll. You can subscribe to all your favorite blogs on Bloglines and it keeps track of new posts for you.

Only half of you floss regularly. This makes me like you more. I won’t say why.

You talk on the cellular phones.

Tsk. Tsk. Only 18% of you believe in UFOs. I sure hope you all still believe in Santa.

There were a few questions not covered in the survey or in other surveys I’ve conducted. There are things I just need to know.

For today please answer one or more of the following 3 questions:

What percent milk do you drink?
How many of your kids are currently named Dirk?
Do you believe in dust mites?