Seattle Mom Blogs

When I first heard of the bikini baristas a while ago I thought, yeah – this will blow over like yesterday’s news, thinking that it was, quite possibly just a slow news day around The Sound.

Then Stephanie wrote about it here and I thought again, okay, obviously this is not going away – but it hasn’t really creeped into my coffee-getting ways yet, so hey – maybe this isn’t something I really care about.

Then I heard this out of my daughter’s mouth while driving past a local “sexpresso” stand the other day: Hey mom! Look, that girl is in her underwear. Why is she in her underwear?

Fabulous. That bubble I had been hoping to raise my daughter in has apparently sprung a leak.

And it was then that I knew that my war with the bikini baristas had just begun.

A little back story here, I used to be a barista. What does this mean? It means that I was Tully’s trained and can whip up a mean pot of coffee and a shot of espresso with the perfect amount of crema on top. I find great value in the perfecting of foam and the mixology involved with creating a unique flavor. I also know that there is a fair amount of skill involved in doing these things and to me, I really don’t care if you look like Cindy Crawford or John Belushi, if you can make a mean latte or a dry cappuccino, I’m yours.

That being said, there is little emphasis on quality in many of the drive-by espresso stands that litter the sides of our roads. Sure there are some who actually care about the beverages they are handing over to their customers for the price of a weeks worth of groceries, but many do not. If I want a good caffeine fix, I know exactly where to go to get it and I am fully aware that I am taking my chances pulling up to one of the roadside stands.

But the chance of bad coffee, not a peep show, is all I want to be concerned about.

Some compare the scantily-clad baristas to girls on the beach. Okay, fine. But seriously, tell me you wouldn’t you be just a little bit uncomfortable pulling up and ordering a mocha from a sixteen-year-old wearing less fabric than your own undergarments? And what if you have kids in the car? Double ick, in my opinion.

Some say, this is no big deal in Europe – that we all need to loosen up a bit and not be so offended by the display of the human body. Well, I got news for you folk, I love and appreciate the human body just as much as the next person, but hello – this is not Europe (although, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?). Our culture is not one of “hey, it’s just a body – get over yourself.” It is one of “hey it’s a body, let’s sexualize it as much as we can and make as much money off it as we can.” As much as I wish it were different, we live in America, land of the free, home of the boobies (real and artificial). That, is where my problem lies.

I want to teach my children that their bodies are beautiful, that all bodies are beautiful and should be treated with respect and admiration for all of their perfections and imperfections. But our society does not see it that way, which makes it a very hard uphill battle for those who want otherwise.

How do we teach our daughters and our sons that women aren’t sexual objects when they are slapped in our face that way every chance they get?

Of course, thereis the whole “freedom” and “constitutional right” angle to the argument as well, and I respect that wholeheartedly. But I can’t honestly sit here and say that I would be supportive of a coffee stand in my town that chose to go down that path, even if the barista made the greatest macchiato this side of Italy.

I can’t do that because of what it teaches my daughter and my sons. I can’t do that because although I feel everyone has a right to express themselves in any way they wish – our culture is just not there yet, even though we wish it were.

Therein lies the struggle. How do we support freedom and individuality at the same time teaching our children the morals and values and self respect that we so want them to have? How do we teach them to stand up for what they believe while not supporting the freedom of expression (if that is what it really is) of others?

Most of all, why does it have to be so hard? I read all of the time of the struggles people had to go through for social, political and environmental change and I wonder, is this one of those things we have to overcome? Is this just another roadblock on our way to a society that loves women for being women, not for being what we are told is beautiful or sexy? Is this it?

Someone please, hand me a guidebook.

Carrie Blankenship is the mother of three (four, if you count her goofy puppy). She writes her way through motherhood at Stop Screaming I’m Driving! She accepts bribes of lattes (especially Starbucks) and offers of free babysitting. If you’re really lucky, she may even do your laundry. She can be contacted at carrieb-at-seattlemomblogs-dot-com.

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For the past six months Ive had a little piece of paper hanging in my cubicle at work. It says:

Guaranteed Ride Home

Employees who ride the bus, carpool, vanpool, bike or walk to work on any given day are guaranteed a free ride home via taxi in the event of illness, emergency or unexpected overtime. There is a limit of 8 rides per year per employee; up to 60 miles per one way ride.

Ive often looked at this little piece of paper and figured it was there in the event that my son got sick at daycare and needed to be taken home. While I was thankful for this service my company offered, I hoped that Id never need to use it.

Monday while sitting at my desk just working and minding my business my foot started to feel a little odd. I kept working and minding my own business and my foot kept hurting.

I got up to use the bathroom and quickly realized my foot wasnt working properly. There was no way I could even walk to the bathroom.

Crap.

How was I going to pick my son up from daycare?

How was I going to get us both home?

Especially with his latest trend of making me carry him.

How was I going to get to the restroom before I peed my pants?

I sat at my desk and wondered what I was going to with this situation. I thought that maybe my foot would get better. But it wasnt. It was only getting worse. As I replayed the events of the day I remembered that I had tripped over an open drawer earlier. I started to get scared that I had broken my foot.

Crap. How what was I going to do?

I still needed to pee.

I called my husband at work and told him that hed have to pick up Babboo from daycare today. This isnt our typical method as I get off work much earlier then my husband. But dude, there was no way I could get myself and my toddler home.

Its then that I looked up and saw the Guaranteed Ride Home manifesto on my wall. I hurriedly called my Human Resources department who then ordered a taxi to come and take me home.

I hopped down to the front of my building and waited for my white knight to arrive. Thankfully the taxi arrived in record time and I was home with my foot elevated and iced in no time at all (and I finally got to use the bathroom).

Holy cow, never have I been so thankful to my employer. While the taxi ride would have only cost me about $20, I would have probably never thought of getting one myself.

Its the end of July and I only have 7 more guaranteed rides home. Heres hoping I dont have to use any more of them (either for myself or my kid) and heres hoping my foot isnt broken.

Im off to see the doctor and get some x-rays taken.

So tell me, does your company offer anything like this? And have you ever had to use it?

Isabel is a pseudonym for this Seattle-based blogger. She’s been working since the day she realized soda and lip gloss weren’t free. Isabel became a mom in 2006 and continues to work full time, outside the home, since diapers and mortgages aren’t free either. You can read far too much about her personal life at hola,isabel.

If you have questions, anecdotes, or topics for Double duty. One paycheck., email Isabel at holaisabel [at] gmail.com.

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I really really love wheat like only a Mormon can love wheat. Were supposed to gather a years supply of food which for many people ends up being several barrels of wheat stored but never used. I have hundreds of pounds of it in my garage along with other food items, working towards a year supply of everything in case of disaster or unexpected need. A few years ago I decided to actually do something with this wheat rather than storing it indefinitely, although it can store for quite some time without a problem and the 50 lb. buckets make a beautiful addition to any home dcor.

With a lot of trial and error, Ive learned to grind it to make my own fresh bread, pancakes and cereal. I even sprout it and add it to salads and cereal for a little healthy boost. Sometime soon Ill write a detailed post on the art of lovely bread (It’s lovely most of the time except when it flops, but even thats a daring adventure).

For now I want to tell you about a great little cookbook sent to me from the Wheat Foods Council. Apparently 2008 is a big fat anniversary year for wheat (who knew?) and theyre celebrating with the release of a cute little cookbook full of great wheat recipes.

Food for Thought is a fun propaganda piece for my favorite grain and comes complete with 35 recipes that use wheat to make everything from muffins to main dishes. Many of the recipes are simple and can be made with or by kids so get it for them and watch your Mothers Day breakfasts improve. Its a fun book with some fresh ideas and definitely worth the $3.50 asking price. Proceeds from the sale of the cookbooks will go towards their non-profit educational organization Spoons Across America.

Spoons Across America works to influence the eating habits of children through hands-on-education that celebrates the connection to local farmers and the important tradition of sharing meals around the family table. www.wheatfoods.org

**By The Book is a series within a series where I will highlight some of my old favorite cookbooks as well as some new and interesting ones that are currently on the market. Hopefully one or two will appeal to you and well all get a little more daring around the kitchen. **

A co-founder of Seattle Mom Blogs, professional blogger Kathryn Thompson writes too much at Daring Young Mom, The Parenting Post, and anywhere else people are willing to read. She enjoys eating cheese and playing high stakes Uno with 4-year-olds. If youre cute enough, she will probably blow on your tummy unmercifully. You can contact Kathryn by email – kathryn [at] seattlemomblogs.com.

The first thing I remember about being a child, before I would always be remembered as being the older child, was that I was loved greatly by my paternal grandparents (my maternal grandparents died shortly after I was born).

Your Ma Ma used to carry you everywhere. Around the block for a walk when she wouldnt even walk two feet to switch off the TV, my mother would reminisce, not unkindly, but not happily either, since she had probably been the one having to switch said TV off.

Evening walks, morning walks, never a harsh word for me but plenty for my parents for scolding me. Sweet treats all hours of the day. Shameless, copious amounts of cooing and coddling. Your typical grandparental doting.

Sadly, I dont remember anything about my grandparents since they died shortly after my sister was born. All I remember are the two severe faces Ive seen every day through my childhood, faces on two 11 X 20 black and white portraits that hung in our living room in the house Id grown up in. And yet, the knowledge that my grandparents loved me so fiercely (and unfairly) always gave me a profound sense of joy, something my sister never knew (and was always a little sad and annoyed when the issue came up). Growing up in a household that was not always peaceful, remembering my grandparents love was sometimes all I had to weather through those tough times. It is odd, and perhaps even miraculous, how the love of two people with whom I have blood relations but hardly knew, could give me the confidence and security I sometimes did not get from my parents.

Having three generations, or more, living under one roof in Malaysia and I expect, much of Asia is indeed still a longstanding practice. From young, we are raised to respect our elders and to expect that when we are old enough to secure our own livelihoods, it is our indubitable duty to care for them and indeed, anyone else whos closely related to us who is incapable of caring for themselves; an aunt, an older cousin, an older brother or sister.

In terms of having the support you need to raise young children, the free babysitting and childcare is nice, but it is more than that. In fact, it is almost an insult if you hire a nanny or send your baby to a daycare if your parents are around and are willing and able to help you, although I hear that more and more grandparents today are beginning to let go of these traditions, which Im not sure is a good thing. Getting them involved is really a way we honor their experience, a way of showing them that they are part of the family and are needed, for what is worse than growing old and losing your sense of belonging in the world?

Today, my in-laws live with us semi-permanently here in Seattle. They visit every year for six months, and for six months, Lokes and I have all the help we need to keep house and raise our children. A lot of my American friends are taken aback when I share this with them.

Six months? Gosh, how are you coping? theyd ask, concerned.

To be honest, its not too bad. In a Malaysian Chinese household, the grandmother is often the one who cooks and helps to care for the kids. In mine, my father-in-law is also an active participant, shopping for groceries and taking out the garbage. That takes away the two things I dislike doing most as a stay-at-home mom, which works out pretty well.

Of course, it is not always smooth sailing. When the kids first came along, there were the usual teething problems of differing child-rearing philosophies, in that we were trying to raise children, and they were trying to raise grandchildren. Who sets the rules? What happens when a grownup doesnt enforce these rules? What happens when a grownup does not AGREE with these rules? Because it is not our custom to address these issues openly (it is not considered polite, and being impolite to your elders is a big no-no), there are bound to be some tension in a household of three generations.

Still, having their grandparents around has had a positive impact on the girls. They learn the ever-important Confucian tenet of caring for and respecting their elders. In return, my in-laws relish the opportunity of watching their grandchildren grow up, sharing with them stories and lessons that my husband and I may have very well forgotten about our customs and traditions. Most importantly, the children benefit from all that love that unconditional, unreasonable, fill-in-the-gaps love that only grandparents are sanctioned to give.

A love that I, for one, know will last a lifetime.

Read more of Jennifer Tais writing atThe I’mPerfect Mom. If you have questions, anecdotes, or topics for Tea Leaf Journals, email jenn[at]theimperfectmom[dot]com.

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For the last couple of years, I have been attempting to speak from my heart (and to speak less often).

I succeed about one out of ten times.

Here is one of those times…

I am heading upstairs, to get clothes for all of us to wear. Our housemates are still sleeping, so I want to be quiet, but, of course, Mica cries out “Ah-deeeee!” every third step and Orlando thump-KER-flumps up the stairs behind me (how can a child so small be so loud?).

Once we are finally in our room with the door closed, Orlando starts jumping all over the bed, and in excitement, Mica amps up the volume on his “Ah-deeeee!”s.

I am standing in the unpacked pile of clothes from a recent trip, trying to scrounge up something close to clean when I turn around and aim myself at Orlando and say, “Stop, Orlando, stop. Stop jumping!” in a clenched, sideways stress-whisper way.

He keeps jumping. I feel my irritation escalate. A berating stream of words is filling up my chest, creeping along the tops of my shoulder blades, prickly words of Why isnt he listening to me! He needs to stop!

But then I choose to “stop.” I take a breath.

“Orlando,” I say, “when I see you jumping around on the bed, I feel so tense! Because I am really needing some peace and quiet right now. Would you be willing to jump later?”

He stops his spazzy little body from flying about the room, says, “Okay, Mama, and walks over to sit next to me on the bed.

Then he says, “Mama, I love you.”

It was in the Nonviolent Communication workbook when I first read the phrase Trust that when hearts connect, solutions will emerge.

Or how about the Four Gates of Speech, which asks one to look into the veracity, necessity, helpfulness, and kindness of ones words before speaking. They even use this one in preschool ask yourself, Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind?

Or theres the Buddhist practice of Right Speech, which urges one to tell the truth, to talk only when necessary, and to abstain from divisive speech, abusive speech, and idle chatter.

Or how about this one? If you dont have anything nice to say, then dont say anything at all.

They all add up to something like this:

1. Know how you really feel inside.
2. Figure out why you feel that way.
3. Decide whether or not you have a (reasonable) request to make of another person.
4. If so, make your request kindly and clearly. If not, be quiet.

I cant believe I never really understood these concepts until I was a grown-up!

Basically, throughout my life, my speech practice has been something like this:

• I feel ANGRY and its the OTHER PERSONS FAULT so I am going to SPEAK SHARPLY or YELL at them. Or perhaps Ill just act all PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE. Later, of course, Ill feel badly and apologize. Maybe.

But while I can see my old ways and how they dont always work out so well, I still cant stop myself from reverting to them, especially when I am feeling stressed.

Heres another adage for you: Old habits die hard.

And thus, here we arrive at my nearly patented ending to my every parenting post

I know what I believe and what feels right and good in my heart. I cant always practice it. I mess up, a lot. I try again, and try not to beat myself up about repeating the same mistakes, over and over.

I reassure myself: This is a path. I am glad I am on it at all.

And for my compass, I have my children.

As soon as I change my energy to one of hope and open-heartedness, they are already there, playing along the path, ready to meet me, more than half-way.

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Read more of Stacy’s writing at Mama-Om. If you have questions, anecdotes, or topics for Crazy Much? email stacy[@]seattlemomblogs[dot]com. I’d love to hear from you!

Thanks to for the compass photo!

Up ’til now I’ve pretty much only shared the fact that we are adopting an older child from foster care, but not much more beyond that. I had a curious reader ask me for more specifics: What age range? What gender? What race?

Well from the get-go we knew we wanted to adopt siblings. It’s harder to find families to adopt groups of siblings; most people, understandably, only want to take on one child at a time. We don’t have any kids, though, and we’re a bit older, financially secure and have a solid relationship. Why not take on more? After all, who wants to go through this entire process a second time?! And at the same time, we can feel good about giving a home to children who might otherwise not get chosen.

At first we thought we’d look at groups of two and three, but our social worker suggested that since we are first-time parents that we might want to stick to just two. So we took her advice and have been focusing on sibling pairs.

Gender? We really want to experience raising kids of both sexes. Since we can choose, why not? I grew up in a home with all girls, and always wanted a brother. (According to my parents, being the 3rd kid I was their last ditch hope for a boy oh well.) A brother never happened so I’d really like to experience having a boy running around the house. As for the girl, what can I say? Being a woman I’d like to have a girl to share those girly experiences with. (No need to worry, I won’t dress us in matching outfits. I’m not that girly.)

Race? No preference. A child is a child and we know we’ll have no trouble being able to love a child of another race. Cultural background? Religious background? We are very open people and also have no preference for these either. We will love our children for who they are, unconditionally, and will nurture their individuality.

Our age range is 3 10. After The Great Diaper Debacle of 2008 I realize a 3-year old is pushing it, so I’m secretly hoping we won’t end up with a kid that young. Ideally our age range would actually be 5 8, but the smaller we make our range the harder it will be to find a match. In the end what matters more than anything is that the children are a good fit for us so we can be the best parents we can be for them. So if we end up with a 3-year old I’ll deal with the possibility of potty issues. Maybe I’ll just need to keep a bucket handy while I change a diaper or wipe a bootie. Ewww.

So we’re set, right? Our agency knows our preferences and started searching on our behalf. We began scouring the online photo listings looking for our future kids. But we kept seeing groups of three. The bigger the group the harder it is to find families willing to adopt them. Is three really too much? Well sure, it probably is for anyone, but could we do it? And more importantly, do we want to do it?

As Bill and I discussed it he said something that really touched me. “I feel like it’s our calling; to adopt the kids that no one wants to adopt.” I feel exactly the same way. We are realistic, though, and know we have limits. There are certain special needs we just can’t take on. But if sibling sets of three are hard to place, then we’re willing to step up to the plate for those kids. That’s something we feel we can do. So we talked to our agency and widened our search.

I told another writer pal (Janna over at Moms Like Sex Too) about us considering sibling groups of three. Just about every person we’ve told looks at us with wide, disbelieving eyes and a look on their face that says, Are you insane? Janna was no exception. “You probably think we’re crazy, right?” I said, expecting her to be polite and tell me we’re not.

Instead, she surprised me. “Oh, you are crazy,” she said assuredly. “But that just means you’re exactly the right people to do it.”

She has a point.

I don’t think it’s the fact that we are considering three kids that freaks people out, but the fact that we would be adopting all three at once. Yes I know it’s a little crazy. Maybe a lot crazy. Maybe we are, in fact, insane. But when I picture our future family I don’t see one kid sitting with us at the dinner table, I see many. Maybe even more than three. (Oh don’t worry. We won’t take on more than three at once. We’re crazy, but not that crazy.) Maybe after this first round we will adopt again. I don’t know. Only time will tell what the future holds. But for right now, at this time in our lives, this feels right. Maybe Janna is right. The fact that we’re crazy enough to even consider it just might mean we should.

And who knows. Just because we widened our search to include groups of three doesn’t mean the children we are matched with will be three siblings. We might get chosen for a set of two. But part of me is really hoping for three. What can I say? Call me crazy.

This entry also posted with the .
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In addition to being a writer and aspiring mom, Susan Metters also carries the distinguished title of Cancer Survivor Extraordinaire. Some of her secret ambitions include meeting Dr. Phil, hosting Saturday Night Live, and rising to the top as a rock star. You can read more about Susans life adventures by visiting her blog with the Seattle P.I., . If you have ideas, questions, rants, or ramblings feel free to email susan [at] seattlemomblogs [dot] com.

There are those days the alarm goes off, you hop out of bed, grab your workout gear and workout with total exuberance.

And then there’s every single other day.

My friend in High School used to say, “I had a fight with my pillow and my pillow won.” She wasn’t much for working out first thing in the morning. Since I grew up and our family included more than just me being responsible for myself, I found that morning is the only time I may actually have a chance to workout. It’s my time. If I’m lucky.

So, for those days, most days, I have three tips (no, wait, six, but I’m getting ahead of myself) to help get us motivated.

1. Find a buddy
- So yea, it’s easier to walk with a friend. It’s more fun to gab while you get thin. It’s motivating to watch that witch Lindsey Brin smile and say, “I’m doing the ADVANCED section, feel free to go as easy or as hard as you can!” (Is it just me or does everyone want to punch the lights out of fitness video ladies?) So group up, ask around, walk with your stroller and a friend. It’s hard to pass when there’s a person waiting.

2. Get Groovin’
- Music can be a mood changer. Try running to the Shindler’s List CD. Not gonna happen. But, say, put in “HeyYa” and soon you’ll be shakin’ it like a Polaroid picture. There’s even a website to help called (of all things) Workoutmusic.com.

3.Reward Yourself
- It’s always a good idea to include something fun for following through. We do it for our kids, why not employe it for ourselves? Set a small baby step goal and achieve it. “Walk three times this week.” Once you’ve done that? Purchase a song for your ipod, get a skinny latte, take an hour kid-free at Borders to look through magazines: Anything that will keep you going. The real reward comes in the better figure and healthier body, we all know that. But in the mean time, there’s lattes and magazines to be had.

For three more tips, go to Blissfully Domestic for Mrs. Flinger’s fitness column.

Read more of Leslie’s sarcastic blahblablah at Mrs. Flinger and find podcast reviews, interviews, crafts, events and topics for the Seattle Parent at Mamaspod.Com. If you have questions, anecdotes, or topics for Mom Friendly Fitness, email .

Seriously. It’s a good question. Do you sue your employer for their hot coffee? Do you sue yourself for having so much skin exposed when you know you will be dealing with hot liquids? Do you sue society for being so sex crazed?

What do you think about espresso stands with bikini clad baristas? Are you comfortable with the fact that they opened one near the space needle?

We don’t have a “sexpresso” stand in our town, I’ve never actually seen one and I don’t drink coffee, but I am totally bothered by the concept. It doesn’t bother me that my children could be exposed to it (though pasties are a bit much) because I know they will see the same thing at the beach. Quite frankly, they would probably just laugh at the “naked” ladies and tell me they aren’t modest. But here is what I don’t like about it:

1. They are forcing other businesses to either shut down or dress down. Competition is healthy, and I realize that some businesses fail and that’s fine. But if you are going to have to close down because of the competition it ought to be because they have a better product, not because their employees are half-naked. In order to compete, you shouldn’t have to tell your employees to come to work in underwear. (What would you do if your boss suddenly changed the dress code on you?) But I guess that’s the way it goes in the business world sometimes…

2. Why are there so many women in this world with such low self esteem that they are willing to become soft porn to earn a few extra tips? A quote from the komo news.com article:

“I used to work mornings at another coffee stand. I used to make $30 in the morning, but here I make four, five times that much, if not more, because I’m wearing a bikini and people pay more for that,” said barista Nicole Corpuz.

Go to college! You’ll be able to make better money, still have your self respect and dignity, and you’ll be able to continue to make good money when your body isn’t so hot anymore! And sweetie, people pay more for that because they get a sick thrill from it– are you really okay with that?

3. If these girls are making better tips it means one of two things (probably both) a.) more customers and b.) bigger tips. This means that not only are husbands (and others) getting a quick boob ogling in the morning with their espresso, they are taking more money out of their family budgets to do so!

4. The picture in this article pretty much says it all. Eewwwww.

5. Could our society quit putting so much emphasis on sex? Sheesh, the way you see it in the movies, on tv and in advertising, you’d think all us Americans do is do it. This is just another example. And before you say this is not about sex because bikinis are on the beach, realize that they key word is beach. Bikinis taken out of context are all about sexy. It really wouldn’t even bother me if it was in California, because at least its HOT there. But Seattle? Seriously? Bikinis in the winter? Gross.

6. This is a point that I hadn’t thought of myself, and is not necessarily my sentiments, but it was a comment from a message board that brings up a good point:

“It seems that this generation of young women has forgotten the long struggle our mothers, grandmothers, and great grandmothers have fought to give us the sweet spot we have now in life. Over 50% of college grads are women, women are shattering the glass ceiling becoming CEOs and almost clinching the Democratic nomination for President of the United States. All while still having a family.
However, which women are actually breaking the glass ceiling? Women over 40. I guess Gen X and Y do not care, perhaps they have had it too easy. I hate to see women taking a giant step backwards by giving in to the rampant pornification of our society and accepting it as the status quo. Celebrating it even!
I hope women young and old will be picketing these disgusting excuses for coffee shops. Let’s keep the porn in the strip bars thank you very much, away from the eyes and ears of our children. I’ll be out there with my sign. I’m 26, and I’m proud to be selling my BRAIN not my good looks”

All right now there are my reasons. If you don’t agree, tell me why. If you have something to add, go on and say it! Let’s discuss.

If you’ve been blogging for very long, sooner or later you get the opportunity to meet other bloggers In Real Life (IRL), especially if you’re a member of Seattle Mom Blogs, where we like to inundate our gals with invites to lunches, brunches, cocktail hours, and everything in between. Then there’s the annual big-time event that everyone starts to talk about round about now… BlogHer. (drum roll here)

Maybe you’ve gone to one of the meet-ups. Or maybe you’ve been busy. Or maybe, just maybe you were afraid to go.

Come on, admit it. There’s something a little scary about meeting people who you’ve only had an online relationship with.

In real life you can’t control how people see you to include onlythe most flattering angles.

In real life you can’t edit your words before anyone hears them.

In real life you forget what you were going to say, snort when you’re laughing too hard, and get gas.

In real life you have to drive and remember directions and hope your skirt isn’t hiked up in the back.

Yep, there’s no doubt about it, IRL can be a stressful place. There’sa reason that Twitter and Facebook and MySpace are so popular.

And yet, I’m a big believer in the notion that meeting up IRL with women who you’ve known online is totally, completely, and 100% worth it.

Honestly, I prefer hanging with bloggers IRL to online. Here’s why.

In general, I tend to really connect with other blogging women. We GET each other. We like the same things. And, thanks to blogging, we have endless fodder for conversation.

Do you use Wordpress or Blogger? Why?

How do you stay on top of your comments?

Did you see that article about Dooce in the Wall Street Journal? And how do you feel about Dooce anyhow, be honest?

Does your family know about your blog?

Why did you start blogging?

How did you come up with the name?

Are you going to BlogHer?

And on and on and ON until it’s 2am and the bar is shutting down and still I want to keep talking.

There’s something really exciting about getting together with other bloggers; an energy that’s addictive.

Maybe it’s that many of us started blogging in order to have something that was ours and ours alone. As moms, wives, employees, consultants, sisters, daughters, and neighbors, it’s often hard to find any bit of something that we can claim as our own. Blogging is that thing. And getting together with other bloggers provides a moment of me-time amidst the chaos. A chance to connect with other women who are into the same thing we are… not to talk about our kids or our husbands or our houses or our jobs, but to talk about the passion that we share. Blogging.

So here’s my advice.

First and foremost, just do it. Get out there. Take advantage of the opportunity to meet up with other bloggers.

Secondly, try to keep from takingit too seriously. Pick out something comfortable to wear that makes you feel good, but don’t obsess about what you look like. I’ll let you in on a little secret… we all are worried about what we look like. We all wish we could’ve lost a few pounds before the event. We all are afraid of people thinking we’re way cuter in our pictures than we actually are IRL.

What matters is the connection. The being real. The laughing and being silly and talking and goofing around.

Take a deep breath, plaster a smile on your face, and introduce yourself.

Before you know it, you’ll be having a great time.

Catch more of Jenny Blackburns humorous anecdotes on being a mom, a woman, and a whole lot crazy at Absolutely Bananas. If you have questions, anecdotes, or topics for On Blogging, email jenny[@]seattlemomblogs[dot]com.

It’s June, the kids are out of school, the sun has finally graced Seattle with its smiling face and many of us will soon be hopping the first plane/car/train for the annual family vacay.

As I’m sure you’ve often found, planning travel (ensuring the kids have their favorite toys, your hubby has the proper summer wear, exchanging dollars for Euros, and making sure you haven’t forgotten the important little details) can be incredibly stressful.

With travel maps in hand and excitement at its peak, the last thing you want during vacation is to contract norovirus or something equally contagious vacation wrecker. With help from Dr. Kelly Reynolds, microbiologist and mom of 3, and The Clorox Company I bring you these healthy summer travel tips:

• Pack disinfecting wipes (such as the new thicker, textured Clorox Disinfecting Wipes with Lavender scent- ahh!)
• If you’re flying, make sure the whole family keeps drinking water (no ice ), and take a stroll down the aisle to keep your circulation going
• Choose the right seat to keep the airsick bag where it belongs.
• Pick the seat that’s most stable (especially for those prone to motion sickness) the front seat of the car, the first car of the train, a seat over the wings of the airplane, or in the midsection of the bus or boat
• Watch out for potential germ hot spots such as airplane tray tables (as Dr. Reynolds noted we’ve all seen people change their child on a tray tableyeah remember that? Exactly, and ewww!), hotel TV remotes and phones, ATM buttons and vending machine buttons. (There are actually more germs on vending machine buttons than on surfaces in public restrooms.)
• Exercise sun smarts
• Know your sunscreen. Some sunscreens are less effective when used with insect repellents, thus you may need to reapply even more often
• Stay hydrated, and keep moving.

And the # 1 “germ-busting” technique Yes you guessed it:

• Wash your hands for 20 seconds using warm, soapy water (sing the “Happy Birthday” song twice as kids wash their hands). An alcohol-based hand sanitizer is a great substitute for when you can’t get to a sink

Now that you are well prepared for a healthy journey go forth and enjoy, but when you arrive at your destination be careful before jumping into the pool. Dr. Reynolds shared this little tidbit which bears repeating: properly chlorinated pools do not have an intense chlorine smell. If you’ve encountered a pool that has an intense chlorine smell and upon entering the pool the chlorine burns your eyes…run! That olfactory assault does not mean the pool is incredibly clean, that is actually the chloramine (the chemical compound in chlorine) reacting with urine, sweat and feces. Nice , right ? That said, please stick to pools and hot tubs with only a mild scent of chlorine you’ll be happy you did.

Happy Summer!

Stacey can usually be found blogging at Because I Must Blog.