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Nothing says you’re getting older more than the phone calls.  Last year, it seemed that every time I picked up the phone it was either someone telling me they were getting divorced, or that they had cancer.  I don’t mean to sound flip.  The first is the end of life as you know it, and the second the potential end of life all together.  But if you can’t find humor in it all, you can’t survive it.  There are even websites devoted to “Cancer Jokes.”  Gotta love the internet.

Still, it’s hard to find anything to smile about when you’re watching someone suffer. Still, I try.  Humor is how I cope with everything from whining kids, to leaky roofs, to sagging bustlines.  So when my mother-in-law was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma this summer, we joked about how chemo would be the best diet ever.  When my college boyfriend found out that his thyroid cancer had metastasized into his lungs, he quipped “Bet now you’re really glad you didn’t marry me!”  And when my own mother went in for her second mastectomy, after already having lost her large intestine to colitis twenty years earlier, we joked that it was “another year, another body part.”

Not truly funny, maybe.  But when you’re terrified, or sad, or desperate, sometimes you’ll laugh, just to make it seem like it’s not that bad. Sometimes you’ll laugh just so you won’t cry.

So here’s my little list of the “bright side” to cancer.  (Fair warning: Cancer jokes are certainly not for everyone.  Some of you may be offended.  But for those of you need to laugh to make it through….read on.)

1. Cancer is the best “out” ever.  Forget someone’s name?  Oh, it’s the chemo-brain, so sorry.  Don’t want to go out to dinner with your boring neighbor? “I’m just so tired.  The cancer, you know.”  Having a bad hair day?  ‘nough said.

2. Illness one-ups-manship.  Cancer trumps all.  Tired of hearing your friend complain about how exhausted she is? Pull the cancer card.  That’ll shut her right up.

3. Cancer is an excuse to go blond.  Or brunette.  Or redheaded.  Or long and curly.  Or short and sassy.  Change your wig as fast as you change your mind.  You’re allowed!

4. Cancer reminds you of how many people love you.  Not a funny one, but a truth.  So many people will call you and offer help.  So many friends will take care of your kids, or bring over food.  Or make you laugh when you feel like crying.

And so many bloggers are part of working towards the goal of no cancer at all. So many people out there who don’t know anything about you are writing and joining the Bloggers for More Birthdays blog chain.  Because we care.  Because we want to make difference.  And because we know — because some of us have gone through it as patients, as children, as spouses, as friends — that cancer really isn’t anything to laugh at.

But imagine, just imagine, how much  we’ll all smile when we’ve conquered it.  When it’s just a memory – like polio, or rampant measles and mumps.  Think how much laughter there will be then.  No cancer jokes necessary.

It didn’t take quite that long.  This summer, the twins both gave up their blankies…and I got one.

Well, Jeanelle Troncone, the founder of Comfort Silkie (our chosen blankie brand) read my blog and sent me a Mommy blankie of my own.  It’s an all silkie home-throw. And it’s mine. mine. mine.  It’s big (54×50) and it even has my name embroidered on it.  And since I’m past forty (ouch!) I never, ever have to give it up.

My kids are jealous.  But yours don’t have to be.  Jeanelle has kindly given me an original baby-sized comfort silkie bonding security blanket to give away.  It’s a lovely, sophisticated chocolate brown and cream combo — perfect for the hip baby.

Make comment below, and you’ll automatically be entered to win

My kids loved these forever. They saved us on countless plane and car rides.  And let’s fact it, a kid with a blankie is way cuter than a kid with a hunk o’ plastic sticking out of his/her mouth.

Contest open to US Residents only. Entries taken until midnight on Friday, October 2nd.  One winner will be chosen at random by random.org.

Good luck.

In the great tradition of “the more you pay the less you go” my kids’ private school had a full three month break over the summer.  Three months of no school.  Yikes.

So now, I’m the one who needs a vacation, with the husband and without the kids. This poses a problem.  Between camp, renovating, and the economy, we are not exactly swimming in petty cash for a weekend escape.  True, we could go back out to the country without the kids, but that would mean making my own bed, straightening up after myself, and dealing with closing up the house again.  Plus, there would be the inevitable leaky roof issue, or raccoons in the attic problem, or even acknowledgment that it isn’t our house, but my parents’ house, with all of its attendant Freudian bagage.

What to d0?

How about a night in a hotel in NY?  No travel costs, lots of deals if we stay on a weekend night, and proximity should there be an emergency at home.  Plus, I’ve always wondered what tourists do when they’re here.  What do they go see? (aside from the M&M store – something I will never, ever, understand.  Don’t they have M&M’s in Missouri?) Where do they stay?  How does it feel to see NY for the first time?

Enter Oyster.com, a new(ish) website that offers unbiased (read: not sponsored by the hotels themselves) travel website staffed by actual reporters instead of regular people writing about their personal experience.   Unlike TripAdvisor (not to say anything bad about them.  I happen to like that site, too.) they only use real, undoctored photos — not the ones from the publicity packet. so you really see the size of the beach, the cleanliness of the pool, the crowds on the lounge chairs.  Honestly,- do people really buy those PR photos?  The ones that show perfectly coiffed, hard-bodied guests COMPLETELY ALONE ON THE BEACH during the holiday rush at a Caribbean resort??  Yeah, right.)

At the moment, Oyster is a bit limited in it’s scope:  a few islands in the Caribbean, and lucky for me: New York City.

Oyster has some pretty fun  but useless categories like  “celebrity sighting hotels,”  “famous affair hotels” that probably make for better reading than research – unless you’re a stalker or a cheater, that is.  But I opted for the eminently practical “Best Value Hotels” category. Two of their picks On the Ave and The Beacon were out.  I might be into the no-travel get away, but less than 20 blocks isn’t a getaway, it’s home, only more expensive.

The other budget hotels were likewise G.U. (Geographically undesirable.)  as for me, a getaway does not include hoardes of tourists at Times Square,or hoards of businessmen in Midtown.

Still I soldiered on.  Kid Friendly Hotels was a category I was happy to find…so I could avoid those places at all costs.  But Most Romantic Hotels seemed promising. Again, though, no neighborhoods I wanted to explore were represented.  And that’s where I get to problem number one.

I’d like for my husband and I to stay in a cool neighborhood — say near the High Line, or in the East Village. I’d like our hotel to be within walking distance of new, cool, restaurants, and a downtown vibe.  But doing so would only highlight how incredibly OLD we have become.  The last time hubby and I went downtown to dinner were not years older than everyone else —- but DECADES.  You know you’re old when you look at the other patrons and think “I could be his mother.”  or worse yet “get a blanket to cover that girl!  She looks practically naked!” I think Oyster should add a “Best Hotels that are cool but won’t make you feel like you’re 100 years old.” category.

And that brings me to problem number two.  If I really want to get away — I have to be able to get away from myself.  I need to be more positive about my looks, my age, my hipness quotient.  So maybe I should just stay home — because there’s no way that’s gonna happen.

Still, a girl can dream, can’t she?  I can click around Oyster and imagine myself luxuriating in a gorgeous hotel while some studly masseur takes care of the kinks in my neck. Because on the web, the world is my oyster…and I am its pearl.

This is a Traveling Mom sponsored post.

Read what else is OK about being back from vacation by clicking over to my weekly post on TravelingMom.com.

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What I don’t like, is all the driving.

Aside from the fact that all the time I spend in the car is one of the primary reasons I end each summer flabbier and fatter than I began it, is the endless tedium of sitting in the car. How many times do I need to hear that the Black Eyed Peas think “tonights gonna be a good night”?  Or that Cobie Caillat is so in love that it’s wrinkling her nose?  I’m wrinkling mine, too, honey, in disgust at the amount of gas I’m using and time I’m spending SITTING SITTING SITTING. (Does pushing the gas pedal burn calories?  I hope so.)

Notice I haven’t mentioned the kids?  Generally speaking, the bickering begins just as we reach the end of the driveway.  Lovely.

Imagine, then, how happy I was to get a distraction in the mail: Rand McNally’s Car Karaoke, part of their Boredom Breakers series of car games for families. (Full disclosure:  they sent it to me for free.  Asked me to review it, but IN NOW WAY direct what I am going to say)

Rand McNally, the 100 + year old travel company mostly known for maps, just introduced a whole series of  games and activities to keep kids entertained and families connected in the car.  Since we don’t have a DVD players in the car (I know, I’m the last holdout) and my kids get sick when they read in the car or even play their DS, The Boredom Breakers games are perfect.  According to Rand McNally “The products are designed to bring families together, encouraging conversation, laughter and fun making the miles fly by for moms and kids on the go.”

I’m sure that whoever you are, your kids are PERFECT.  But it can’t be just me.  Can it?

Please tell me it’s not just me.  That I am not the only mother being driven crazy by her own kids.

Mama, mama, did you see my drawing, mama?
Do you like it, mama?
Mama, mama, I made my own bed, come see, mama.
Mama, mama, I ate all of my lunch.  Isn’t that good mama?
Mama mama mama mama….

It’s enough to make me want to change my name to…Dada.

This summer, my son has decided that he is going to call me mama.  And he is going to call me that twice at the beginning of each sentence, and once at the end.  Basically, the format is:
“Mama. mama (insert need for approval) Mama.”

Then there’s the food.  His favorite used to be grilled chicken.  Suddenly, he deems it “gross.”  He used to eat watermelon.  Now it’s too wet for him.  He used to like cheese sticks.  Now, only fine French cheese will do.  He’s even turning down most types of cookies.  Can you say “control issue?” Meal time has become a game of Russian Roulette — and I’m the one with the gun at my head.

Click here to read the rest of this post at NYC Moms Blog.com.

So here I am with a new recommendation:  Shape FX. It is QUITE unlike me to buy a bathing suit online — I need to try on, try on, try on.  Check out the strategic qualities of it’s camoflage abilities:  does my stomach look enormous?  Does the skin above the leg line bulge?  Is my back fat under control?  But after reading about Shape FX in Rachel Ray’s magazine (my guilty pleasure – hey, if I can’t eat fish cooked with a pound of butter and a cup of cream at least I can read about it) I decided to take a chance.

See Shape FX is all about strategic dressing.  You take a little questionnaire online about your body, then they recommend clothing just for you.  I took the quiz, bought the bathing suit and all I can say is:

OMG.

Quite possibly, the most flattering bathing suit EVER.  And way way less expensive than Karla.

So there you have it.  My new (budget friendly) alternative to my first love, Karla Colletto.  I plan to try their push up, control pants too.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

See that picture right there?  That’s the view of my back yard.  Seriously.  And see how I’ve gotten all proprietary?  MY backyard?  How easily I slip into ownership mode. Except of course when it comes to the tax bill, the gardening fees, the lawn upkeep, the pool costs.  When those things come up, suddenly I’m 12 again and Daddy is taking care of it all.

But lest you think it’s a free vacation and start planning a mooch vacation of your own – let me fill you in: Living with your parents, as a grown, adult person is no bargain.  Nuff said.

Though of course I’ll say more:

Wanna read it?  Click on this link below to read the full post at Traveling Mom.com.