At my last visit with the rheumatologist we decided to add another pill to the mix. Like I said, I’m in a good shape but I’m only 41 and If I look at the other women in my family that means I’ve got another 55 or so years where I need these joints to function. Slowing the disease down is good, but we’re going aggressive, we’re looking to arrest the disease.

Here is the conversation we had.

MD: You’re still menstruating, correct?

ME: Yes.

MD: If we add this medicine I need to know that you’ve got birth control that is 100%. The birth defects would leave a baby incompatible with life.

ME: Oh I’m covered. I’ve got an IUD, this is a closed up shop [waving over my middle]

MD: And those are 100%? [he’s still writing notes in his pad and to be fair most of his patients stopped menstruating long ago] I’ll just need to contact your OB.

ME: You don’t need to contact him.

MD: [a little startled and looking at me quizzically] I just need to confirm…

ME: [interrupting] You really don’t need to confirm. I have an IUD the chances of me getting pregnant are miniscule and if I did get pregnant on that drug I’d have an abortion.

My doctor looked confused, like this wasn’t the discussion we were supposed to have but it was the discussion we needed to have. I’m 41, my “baby” is ten and I’m done having kids. If I wasn’t a pharmaceutical dumping grounds and I got pregnant I’m sure I’d be happy, or I’d find a way to be happy… maybe. But there’s a time in everyone’s life to have babies. I went on ad nauseum explaining to him why this wasn’t my time to have babies and I assured him that I wanted to be better. I want to be well and that no babies would be part of the equation. I have two great kids to raise, I wouldn’t stay pregnant just so they could watch a baby die.

I’m 41 and I didn’t want my Rheumatologist hopping on the phone with my Gynecologist to get a promise that I wouldn’t get pregnant. I’m a mother of two and a wife of one. I’m middle aged, middle income and I used to be politically moderate.

And then everyone wanted to get involved with my uterus.

And to be fair it wasn’t Oprah that called or I might have actually been nice when I answered.

It began like this:

ME: This is Jessica

OWN NETWORK: Hi this is [a really nice lady] from OWN the Oprah Winfrey Network.

ME: [still not interested, sure that it’s going to be another craptastic pitch] How are you doing?

OWN NETWORK: Great. I’m calling because of Oprah’s Lifeclass.

She went on to explain the Lifeclass for this year and how it’s going to be in St. Louis and in New York City and she would be on the road with Bishop T.D. Jakes, Iyanla Vanzant, Deepak Chopra and Tony Robbins. I continued not paying attention because I get these phone calls all the time and I don’t really cover events that I’m not at.

And then she said, “And we’d like you to travel with us.”

And she kept talking and I tried to not scream and I hadn’t written down her name, number email address or anything but I was able to stutter out, “I need to check with my husband but I really want to go.”

All the while I’m thinking, “I don’t care WHO takes care of the kids, it’s a total of nine non consecutive days, I’m not missing this!”

And then we didn’t talk again so I thought maybe I’d hallucinated.

And then we did talk again and I realized I was the luckiest woman in the world. When we talked more I saw that a handful of other bloggers would be on the tour. I made a twitter list of everyone involved (but of course you can’t add yourself to your own twitter lists) and I used a dormant twitter ID that you don’t need to follow.

So I’ll be in St. Louis and New York with Oprah and her traveling band of celebrities and overachievers. For now I’m panicking about what to wear, which should prove to you that I haven’t an ounce of common sense because what I should be doing is researching the incredible talent that is going to be taking this adventure with me.

Tickets are available this week only. It’s a lottery system so be sure to go to Oprah.com and get your tickets. I’d love to see some friendly faces. Here are some details from the site:

- The taping at Peabody Opera House in St. Louis will take place on Monday, March 26, 2012.
- The taping at Radio City Music Hall in New York City will take place on Monday, April 2, 2012.
- The time commitment for the afternoon taping in St. Louis is from 12:30 p.m. until 4:30 p.m. CT, featuring Bishop T.D. Jakes as the guest teacher.
- The time commitment for the evening taping in St. Louis is from 5:30 p.m. until 9:30 p.m. CT, featuring Iyanla Vanzant as the guest teacher.
- The time commitment for the afternoon taping in New York is from 12:30 p.m. until 4:30 p.m. ET, featuring Deepak Chopra as the guest teacher.
- The time commitment for the evening taping in New York is from 6:30 p.m. until 10:30 p.m. ET, featuring Tony Robbins as the guest teacher.

I called the Loews just a few days before the holiday and explained to the reservations agent that I’m a high maintenance traveler. I like nice things and I make no apology for it. I also explained to him that I wanted either adjoining rooms or a one bedroom suite, the requirement is that there is a door between the two rooms. “It’s not a vacation if I’m sleeping in the same room as my children.” I said. It’s what I always say. He chortled, agreed and set us up with a Grand King Suite. He assured me I’d be delighted. I assured him that I wanted to be delighted.

Let me just say that a Grand King Suite at the Loews Coronado Bay is a wonderful thing. The ceilings are high, the views of the bay are stunning and the bathroom is everything you could hope for in a luxury spa hotel. Unfortunately there was nothing to separate the bedroom from the living room. It was exactly the hotel room I didn’t want for a family of four.

I called the front desk and explained the dilemma. They couldn’t have been nicer or more understanding. After a brief hold I was told that they had a one bedroom suite for us. It would be smaller and a few dollars less but it was vacant and he would send a bellman with keys.

So we waited. And we waited. Then we waited some more.

A very nice and incredibly apologetic bellman arrived with keys and showed us to the second room. It was still very nice, smaller and with a much smaller bathroom but it suited our needs as a family of four that wanted a little privacy throughout the weekend. The views of the bay were soothing and the location was actually better than the larger suite. When traveling with kids it’s nice to be near the teen room and the swimming pool.

We thanked the bellman and reminded him that we needed a rollaway bed as well as some extra blankets and pillows. This was at about 4pm.

At 6pm we called again and they sent the rollaway bed but no pillows or blankets. I asked about turndown service and for the sofa bed to be opened. They assured me that someone would be “right on it”.

At 8pm I called again.

At 8.45 the incredibly sweet operator once again assured me that the housekeeping supervisor would be right there. I ran out of nice and reminded her that I was in a hotel and asking for a bed at 9pm. Shortly thereafter a housekeeper arrived to unfold the sofa bed and gasped audibly to find it bare.

Sometime after 9 I left the room in utter disgust to take a walk with my son and left Mr. G and Jane to wait for housekeeping (who again failed to bring extra blankets and pillows). Mr. G asked if he should tip whomever arrived in the room. I didn’t have an answer, I’m still of two minds.

The hotel manager arrived. Mr. G reported that she was very young and very apologetic. I’m sure she was sweet, everyone was sweet there. Sadly they were mostly incompetent.

The television in the bedroom didn’t get reception on many of it’s channels but we weren’t concerned enough to complain about it. In addition to the shower being tiny, and folks when I say tiny I’m talking about a 3 foot by 3 foot space, the showerhead hardly dribbled. Shower caps were not provided. Again, I’d accepted defeat after the bed fiasco.

We spent a wonderful day by the pool. There are two ping pong tables and a giant connect four. There is plenty of seating, some sofas and a bar. Unfortunately the food is from room service (as opposed to a separate pool service area) so it’s VERY slow. Fortunately the coffee bar in the lobby (even under construction) has fabulous grab and go choices including fresh fruit, pasta salads, healthy sandwiches and little bits of handmade chocolate that you simply must experience.

Although the hotel is located on the bay, you should not confuse this with a beach. I wouldn’t have my kids swimming in the water as it’s mostly full of motorboats. It’s a beautiful view, but it’s better for boaters than for swimmers.

The pool area is really quite lovely and I cannot emphasize enough how much we enjoyed our day by the pool.

The Sunday brunch is similar to other hotel Sunday Brunches. There’s an omelet bar and a lunch area, there are lovely desserts, overcooked vats of scrambled eggs and piles of breakfast meats. Like other hotels it’s hideously overpriced, unlike other hotels it has a Mexican flare. I like Mexican flare, especially when I’m spitting distance from the border.

Our second night was better. We had no requests and it was impossible to disappoint us. We accepted the dribbling water from the teeny tiny shower and left town. In spite of it all we had a fabulous weekend together.

What would alarm me most about this hotel is that upon checking out I said to the woman at the desk, “I’d like to general manager to call me on Tuesday so that I can tell you about my experience here.” She nodded, wrote down my number on a slip of paper and shoved it into a pile. Naturally there was no phone call.

It’s an okay hotel in an okay location but the staff is not so okay.

I’d reserved a Grand King Suite at $450 a night (I know a steal) and then moved to the one bedroom suite at $350 a night. If you can lower your expectations and make your own bed you just might enjoy yourself.

What was interesting about this trip is that we stayed in a hotel I wouldn’t recommend to anyone. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t one I’d recommend. It wasn’t budget friendly, and no matter how much I lowered my expectations they simply couldn’t be met by the hotel staff. They were a friendly staff, adorable even, but they weren’t particularly competent.

We told the kids we were heading to San Diego and my son packed for the beach. I don’t know how we didn’t double check his clothing choices, but we didn’t and he ended up with shorts and tee shirts and not enough socks. Although San Diego is, in fact, the beach, it was February in San Diego and it was quite cool at night. Jane’s hair wasn’t behaving as she thought it should (though I maintain that she has the most incredible hair I’ve ever seen).

With all this, with not very interesting food, cold and windy nights, waiting until 9pm for a bed to be made (and by “made” I mean it had no sheets) and Mr. G’s back hurting him it sounds like a horrible weekend away. Don’t worry, it’s only a sound.

Jane finished book seven in Pretty Little Liars and we had to beg the bookstore owner to please let us in, “we don’t need to browse.” I explained, my foot wedged into the closing door. We just want to grab a book and go. A toddler was in the back pooping in her diaper under a table, her father thought it was adorable. We got a book and Jane had a dose of birth control all at once.

During this weekend I was reading, obsessively reading, The Man Who Quit Money. It’s about Daniel Suelo who quit money in the beginning of the millennium. It’s a fabulous book and it touched me because it was written by a man with whom who I grew up. I still make his mother’s pancakes from the Co-Op nursery school cookbook. Obviously I wanted to like this book, but somewhere midway I realized it was me. He was writing about me (and so many of you) when he talked about the dilemma of reusing a Ziploc bag. Is it worth the water to rinse it? Am I adding to the plastic in the landfill? Why the fuck did I buy this bag in the first place? To hold apple slices? Next time I’m sending the kids to school with an apple and a knife (braces make it impossible to bite into one whole).

The book might have made me nicer over the weekend. There was only one moment where I lost my cool with the hotel manager (who was approximately 15 years old). I looked at things a little differently. It didn’t matter how I wanted to see the world. It didn’t matter what I expected a resort to look like, it mattered that I was with my family and I was gifted time and attention. 

In fact Monday morning Alexander looked up at me and said that even though it’s a bay and not a beach and even though and even though… this was the best weekend of his entire life.

I’m not sure why our family is having such a nice time just being together. I’ll never really know how a crappy hotel and terrible food gave us all such pleasure, but it did.

I’m not even sure WHAT I am, except that I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m the Stay At Home Mom that they can call to pick up their kids. Again. I mean seriously neighbor… did you forget that you have children?

Whitney wrote a great post about what it is to be a hybrid mom. Which is sort of every mom I know these days, except that one who seems to be at the spa every day. What’s her magic?

In any event, today’s momversation asks what are you? And does it even have a name?

Earlier this year a Children’s Hospital in Georgia started a campaign revolving around childhood obesity. I’ve posted some of their videos here and here. In addition to incredibly powerful videos there are billboards that accompany them. The billboards and videos feature real life overweight children talking about the real life issues that obesity causes. The issues are social (loneliness) and physical (heart disease, diabetes and more). The videos (watch them) are presented with neither judgment nor over dramatization. The fact that these children are in physical and emotional pain is dramatic enough, nothing more is needed.

There is a campaign to have the Children’s Hospital take down these billboards, the belief is that these billboards bring shame to children who are fat. Many top bloggers are bothered by these ads. Leading the charge is Leah Segedie.

Leah Segedie, who is the brains behind Mamavation, finds these ads to be riddled with shame. Leah is undoubtedly an authority in the weight loss arena as she battled depression along with her weight and has had a wonderful lifestyle change. She lost a hundred pounds and found her voice. Leah would be the FIRST person I would talk to if I needed a lifestyle overhaul. Leah is also an incredibly compassionate and passionate woman, she is bright and articulate, she is educated and she is charismatic. You get the picture? Leah is a woman I respect, enjoy and look up to. As a rule I do not call her judgment into question.

The women behind the #ashamed movement have it wrong. I don’t believe for a single solitary second that an ad campaign will make these children feel ashamed for being overweight. I believe with all my heart that the fat that’s covering these children’s bodies might make them ashamed. It should be noted that the fat covering their bodies also makes them ill and it’s much easier to die of diabetes or heart disease than of shame. Further, these ads are empowering. In the state of Georgia 40% of the children are overweight. Georgia is at the heart of the obesity epidemic and it’s imperative that they become forerunners in the fight against obesity.

By talking about fat, rather than whispering, some of the stigma has to leave. It’s not like no one can see. I’ve gained 15 pounds in the last two years, everyone can see it. If I only talk about it while whispering in private it’s not like people won’t notice. One of the many goals of this campaign is to have parents actually acknowledge that their children are overweight. It’s not baby fat, it’s just fat.

Having too much fat on your body is a medical issue. Yes, it can become a social one, and yes, it can be emotionally crippling. Not talking about the fact that children are overweight won’t stop them from hurting. Not discussing the fact that adults are robbing children of their health when they don’t provide proper nutrition and exercise won’t make anyone thinner or healthier.

When I was a teen everyone was worried about self esteem. There was this ridiculous notion that every child should feel good about themselves. Ted Bundy had incredibly high self esteem. What was missing was giving children the opportunity to feel good about themselves by presenting them with tools to reach the goals they wanted to achieve. The whole give a man fish or teach him to fish thing. If you don’t want children to feel ashamed let’s give them a reason to feel proud, give them a goal they can reach like walking a mile or riding their bike to school for a week. Teach kids to put together a healthy lunch or how to stop eating before you’re full and then to wait twenty minutes before eating again. If you want children to feel good give them some tools, forget advocating against healthcare workers who are trying to save lives.

Some feelings will be hurt. I assure you those feelings were hurt long ago, and if it takes an ad campaign in a region where children are gifted disease by their diets then so be it. I say let’s have hurt feelings, because the folks who are going to look at these commercials and feel like they’ve been sucker punched are going to be the parents. The kids already knew how they felt, it’s not a mystery to them.

I support Strong4Life and I’m sad that we’ve reached this place. I hope that Georgia can be the canary in the coal mine for all of us and that we can all love our children enough to make changes that will keep everyone living happier, fuller lives. Every part of me believes the women behind #ashamed have their hearts in the right place. I think they just missed the point.

I’m really lucky that I have two women who are about ten years in front of me. Both have boys and girls and both of them are out of the neighborhood so when I text Amy and say “I really fucked it up this time with Jane.” She is able to ignore the nuance, the setting and every other bit of extraneous information and get right to the meat of how absolutely lost I feel as the mother of a teen.

Like many other schools Jane’s school uses something called Powerschool. Powerschool is essentially an online grade book. The teachers enter all the kids’ scores and this way parents have real time access to grades and we can help our children schedule their time accordingly. Jane is on two volleyball teams and a soccer team. If she has any assignments that have not been turned in she cannot participate in sports. It’s not a punishment, but rather a consequence of not having enough time. Also, if Jane doesn’t have all B’s or higher in her classes she cannot participate in sports. Again, not a punishment, but a reallocation of time and resources.

This is a snippet of Jane’s math profile.

You can see that a parent this is a powerful tool. It helps me know that everything is okay, and points me at problems before anyone has a chance to fall too behind.

One of the options is that you can have all the grades emailed to you daily, weekly or monthly. I chose daily.

About a week ago I noticed I was no longer getting daily emails. I didn’t think much of it because I’d been thinking that our mornings were a little rough with me looking at grades before sending the kids to school. I felt like I was nagging Jane and sending her off in a not-so-good way. Since the email system has been wonky I didn’t think much of it.

Well, Jane had two assignments that were not turned in. One was a two point assignment and the other was 10. These aren’t huge assignments, but part of the sports contract is that everything is done. Being rather Sherlock Holmesy I went into the Powerschool system to see if the email options had been manually changed.

Knocked the wind out of my sails.

Jane had unticked the box so that I’d no longer get the emails. I, predictably, went ballistic and screamed at her. Sent her to school terrified and told her that in addition to one month without technology I was going to invent some punishments. I brought the kids to school and drove home in a silent car second guessing myself.

I knew that a month was ridiculous but I’d already said it. It was the punishment that I’d promised. I also felt like I’d set her up to fail by being too tough and by talking about grades in the mornings before school as opposed to the end of the end of day after Jane had slain her dragons.

This week Amy was Pocahontas. She regaled me with stories of punishments for her daughter. The ones that worked and the ones that didn’t. We talked about why we punish kids, are we looking to be punitive or are we looking to teach them something? Is it about taking a corrective action or about anger?

Jane has lost her phone and computer for a week. There will be neither Facebook nor iChat. She is effectively cut off from all her friends. In addition to all of that we’re taking a three day trip. She’ll be stuck with her family and ability to text a friend. We like to call that Family Funishment. Amy thought it sounded a bit like torture for any red blooded 13 year old.

Thank goodness I have these women or poor Jane would be in a convent right about now. They need a token Jew. 

When I watched this video one of the many striking moments was the bowl full of candy in the classroom.

I love that we’re finally acknowledging the link from fatty and sugary foods to obesity and morbidity. Our bodies were built to survive famine, but it’s clear that we don’t survive the feast nearly as well.