Posted by Duff

Fitz and I are honored (and quite surprised) to have recieved two awards from fellow bloggers during the week of our 100th post.

One from Lisa (who not only is a baker, but has met  and been photographed with Duran Duran, so both 34-year-old and 10-year-old me bow down to her). The other is from Binky, who recently guestblogged for us, and whose insight I emulate.  

It means a ton to us that someone, let alone two would find our experiences helpful and our writing at all entertaining , so we thank Lisa, Binky, and everyone who reads.

I for one, am not always appreciative of my own Momness – in my own head, I’m not always patient or understanding, and I can’t say I take every last opportunity to teach The Dervish at a time in her development when she certainly could benefit from constant constructive suggestion and learning opportunities. I fall short of my own ideals. How can I not?

When The Dervish was an infant, and a trip to the store was enough to give me heart palpitations, I stood in the grocery line behind another mom. The cashier was running produce over the scanner. “Excuse me,” she said to Good Mom. “Can you tell me what this is? I’ve never seen it before.”

“It’s a starfruit,” said Good Mom. “I like to expose my kids to a variety of fruits and vegetables so they can learn about them. Sometimes they like them.”

I was torn between wanting to get her number to be my Mom Sponsor and resenting her for making me feel Less Than. But that’s probably because I wasn’t getting much sleep at that time. These days, I think she had a pretty cool idea. But I should mention that her two or more kids weren’t at the store with her, and she had years of experience on me. So her blood pressure had probably regulated.

Honestly, it’s important to tell moms when you appreciate something they’ve done, or are impressed with one of their cool mom ideas. We all love it. I’m sure our moms love it.

And with that, I want to pass on the appreciation and bestow awards upon Amy and Erin for lovely, clever blogs that are honest.  And between moms, honesty is especially refreshing and as necessary as a Calgon moment in a whinestorm.

Yesterday, I was at the dentist. My hygienist, whom I adore, was about to tell me about the birth of her second child. Before she did, though, she had the presence of mind to ask, “Do you really want to know?”

Without hesitation, I replied. “Yes. It’s not just that I want to know. I need to know. I should know. Please, be honest.”

Honestly, that experience sounded better than the birth of her first.