Hey, check this out, I think we need to sell books to parents, not children, so let’s all write stories that make Moms cry. They should address issues like growing up, moving out of the house and adult diapers. Then death.

What am I talking about? This book:

Let me break down the story line and you will see what I mean.

The story opens with a mom holding her baby in the hospital telling her, “Someday, I will read a book called ‘Someday’ and weep like a baby.” Or something like that, it’s hard to read words when you’re crying.

The following pages show a baby girl turned baby child, turned college kid turned mom of her own… but the ending is what kills me.

Without spoiling it for you, it ends with a the illustration from the beginning -this time it’s in a frame and says something to the effect of ” You will remember me.”

Yeah, Mom dies.

Who writes this stuff?

Yes, it is beautiful, the illustration and poetic notions of a woman watching her child grow are beautiful, but it had me crying. No, sobbing.

In Target.

At Christmas.

I looked like a woman in the middle of a mental breakdown next to “Electronics.”

And then there is this book:

This is a story of a little boy whose Mother holds him before bed and whispers “I will love you forever.”

Yes, the boy grows up, yes, he leaves, and yes he starts a family of his own. But, its the page where he is holding his Mother, who is now too old and frail to hold him that kills me.

He whispers to her,”I will love you forever.”

Look, writers, these stories are gorgeous, but they are too sad to read to kids.

Hey, here’s an idea…Let’s take all the Disney stories where Mom or Dad get killed before the baby grows up, put them all together in a book and call it,”More Tragic Stories – For Kids!”

So this Christmas, before I put Bea down for her Christmas Eve winter’s nap, I won’t be reading any sad, sappy books. No, I’ll stick with the traditional story… you know the one with the Scrooge and the little boy who can’t walk? Crap! Nevermind.

This week’s prompt? What is one of your life’s mottos?

For me, this is easy. I’ve named my blog my motto: I’m still fabulous!

Why? There are a lot of reasons but for me, in particular, I want to maintain a sense of self even if my “self” is shared with a husband, a daughter and a job.

I see it so often. Women, mothers, wives… they get caught up in the lives of everyone around them, but they neglect themselves. I’m not saying you need to stop everything, ignore all everything around you and focus on you, but I think it’s important to take some time for yourself to remind yourself of who you were before you were a mom, a homemaker, a maid, a cook… you know, all that jazz.

For me, it is when I exercise or run. It’s the time when I am all alone. I can think about everything… I can think about nothing. And running gives me something to be proud of. I get giddy with excitement when I run a little farther… a little longer. I smile when I think about how I completed my first half marathon, and I am reminded of how fabulous I really am.

So I encourage you to do it with me. Do something that makes you feel fabulous, even if it is only for a minute. Buy and wear a new, expensive lipstick. Get dressed up for no reason at all. Look in the mirror and smile knowing that despite all the personas you wear every day, You Are Still Fabulous.

with simple, gorgeous pointy-toe heels…

But not without injuring these….

Ugh. I somehow managed to sprain my big toe while wearing heels. No, I was just walking in heels… all day and when I took them off… oy. It was hurty.

Doc says it is a sprain and I am now forced to wear awful running shoes with my work clothes. I’m like, two shoulder pads away from becoming “Working Girl”!!!!

Running shoes have their place, don’t get me wrong. But it is not at work. When I drive in. And don’t run on my lunch hour. I feel so unfabulous.

Of course, toting Maxx on my shoulder helps…

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PS- Thank you to my lovely husband for reminding me I am worth it.

This week, over at Mama Kat’s, I chose this prompt:

3. Anissa is putting up the fight of her life right now. She’s fighting to respond. She’s fighting to get better. She’s fighting to swallow. She’s fighting to go home. Her husband updates us frequently on a blog Anissa used when their daughter Peyton was fighting cancer. Write a poem about a fight you or someone you love has struggled to win.

My mom suffered a stroke when I was in third grade. What started as a migraine ended in a stroke. For a little kid, to see your mom like that is hard. I can relate to Anissa’s family and what her kids are going through.

My mom recovered, and is now the wonderful parent and “Gigi” she is. But, I always think about families that aren’t so lucky.

This post is part of Mama Kat’s Writing Workshop. Please head over there to check out other writers and their stories.

Also, right now, be sure to check out Blog, Big, Hope, an auction benefiting Anissa Mayhew and the Liz Logelin Foundation.

Ever since I became a Mom, everything I see or do relates to my new job…

Sometimes, I cry.

So, last night, when I popped over to Scary Mommy, and read this post, it took me to the story of a young couple, Liz and Matt, and I was reminded how delicate life is.

Hours after they welcomed their baby girl,Maddy, Liz died. Matt started the Liz Logelin Foundation, and this week kicks off an online auction to support the foundation as well as Annisa Mayhew, a 35-year-old blogger mom who recently suffered a massive stroke.

Kids should not be without a parent, and these stories remind me of how my own mother had a stroke at just 34 years old, and how I came so close to losing her.

I can’t even comprehend, and I don’t want to even think about the unthinkable. But I do want to show my support.

So, please, join me and stop by Blog, Bid or Hope to raise money and show support for these families. Pop over to Scary Mommy for the details, and have fun shopping for a great cause on Wednesday, December 8.

1. Stockings

It took a tweet from fellow new mom Lemonologie to remind me: Duh. Bea needs a Christmas stocking with her name on it. I had one growing up, I even have one at my in-laws… surely I can get one for my first and only daughter? Man… why wasn’t I planning this in August or something?

2. Presents

These are the things Grandmoms and Grandpops are supposed to get for first grandchildren, no? It’s the first week of December and I haven’t even thought about what to get Bea. Hmm… what does she like? Oh, she likes chewing on carpet and eating eyeglasses. Perfect, that narrows down the list.

3. Cookies

Surely, a good new mom would be filling the house with scents of Christmas goodness… Of course, what would I give Bea? Pureed Chocolate Chip Cookies? Mixed with formula? Oh, nevermind, she is busy chewing a wooden spoon.

4. Pictures with Santa

Of course, we are going to get her picture with Santa….Truth? I am dreading it. The long lines, the constant entertaining to keep her happy until camera time, the blow out I *know* will happen just as we become first in line. The $50 sitting fee without the vintagey- Polaroid photo to prove it? Meh.

5. The Christmas tree

I love Christmas, and my favorite part? The tree. A live tree… the smells, the glow of the lights, the reminiscing about each old ornament as I place it on the bough….Reality? The play yard and jumperoo have pretty much eliminated any free space in our living quarters. And I am pretty sure the putting up of the tree will coincide with Bea starting to crawl and that.will.be.interesting.

So, will this Christmas be a #fail? Not if I can help it. Will we power through the Santa sitting, find room for the tree and bake all our favorite Christmas cookies? Of course. Will I raise the bar so high I have to outdo myself bigger and better every year? Fat chance. After all, I’ve got a good 3 years before she starts to really “get it,” right?

I was a die-hard Bon Jovi Fan. Me and my friend, Lisa, would listen to Bon Jovi, update our scrapbooks, dream about Jon and Ritchie. We Loved Bon Jovi. How could you not love this hunk of hairy man?

This pic is gross.

So naturally, I picked a Bon Jovi song:

I’ll be there for you.

Wow…dramatic for my 7th grade self. So, listen, Jon, I am worried… I mean, you’re listening to talking suitcases, and watching hearts bleeding. Are you okay? Did Nikki Sixx give you something to take earlier?

You’re Italian, I get the God thing… and wow, the imagery is amazing. I am seeing water, love, broken hearts, and an ex-lover with a life jacket she refuses to give up. But you don’t care, do you? You’re  too worried about your bangs and how your hair spray will hold up in the ocean spray.

You know, stealing the sun might be a felony. I am not quite sure, but I know it sure is selfish at the least. Anyway, Jon, I will take you if that bitch won’t have you. In fact, you won’t have to give me air, or water, or anything. But, I’ll take your five words thankyouverymuch.

Can you refresh my memory… what were the good times? Oh, every time I saw you in leather pants, Yeah, those were good times. But let’s forget all the bad times… like when I’d get my fingers tangled in your chest hair. Not cool, Jon. It’s called mangrooming. Look into it.

Do me a solid and wash those hands before you be my water, or give me a Valentine. I know, I know, it sounds picky, but this whole H1N1… yeah, it kinda freaks me out. So, if you could just wash- oh, sing Happy Birthday twice… want to make sure you’re washing enough – and then just uses some of this here, Purell. Great… now, let’s talk about getting me some wine.

Yeah, that pretty much sucked. You know, forget it. Forget about the sunshine and the wine… I don’t want your Valentines. I was so happy, and you weren’t there.  But the birthday was the last straw. You know what Jon, I’m pretty sure you have hair plugs and let’s be real here, you’re still rocking the mullet. Let’s just pretend this never happened.

Who am I kidding? I can’t stay mad at you, Jon… I’ll take you back. But the sun, you can leave it in the sky. I’m trying to keep the wrinkles at bay and I’m not sure what SPF I would need to actually be next to the sun.

Now, head over to Mama Kat’s and see what other people are writing about this week!

Well, you are right. I am crafty, but there are certain things I refuse to cannot do myself. So, if you’re out there at the mall, or online and want to pick something up just to show you care this holiday season, here are some ideas.

Do I want world peace? Sure, I guess that would be cool. But here are the things that would really make me smile on Christmas morning.

What kind of mom would I be if I didn’t ask for a sassy, whip-em-into-shape-with-humor, maid to take care of things around the house? Doesn’t every mom jokingly say “I want a maaaaid for Christmas! hahaha!”

But I don’t want just any maid. I want Hazel. I want someone who will “get it done” within the confines of a 22-minute sitcom in the 60s. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

I was a child of the 80s who bopped around her bedroom with a hairbrush microphone and was instantly transformed into a Girl who just wanted to have Fun. I lipsynched to the song on stage in 3rd grade at my school’s talent show.

It was in the years pre-video cameras, so I don’t have any proof ( not even a picture… hello mom???), but there is one thing I have to prove how much I loved Ms. Lauper: A Barbie I self-styled to look like my iconic singer.

Yeah, I chopped half of her hair.

So, when my dear friend sent me this link of Barbie’s “80s Ladies” collection, I knew I needed this Barbie… for my 7-month-old-daughter, of course.

Because sometimes, I swear, I’ve lost it.

Never have I wanted to see baby teeth more than I do with my daughter. It feels like she has been teething forever and recently, the process has started to come to a head.  Don’t believe me? This is what we were dealing with the other night.

How does it feel? I can only imagine. Swollen gums, aching ears… maybe it feels like when I’d have my braces tightened and would have to take copius amounts of Tylenol to get through the night. How can I help ber besides shoving something cold in there every 5 minutes. It just has to suck.

But something tells me the tears won’t stop immediately. And because of that, I want this…

 Because when I’m not catching tears on my shoulder, I want to capture them on film… forever.

I love writing for SJ, and this January, SJ is publishing a special 10-year commemorative issue, to celebrate their 10 years of publishing. To celebrate? A brief bio of all the regular contributing writers. Hey, that’s me!

So, I need to write a 50-word bio all about me. It’s a tough task to write about yourself – let alone in 50 words.

Erica V is an amazing writer who has a flair for fashion and an eye for what’s in. Never satisfied with the norm, she is constantly cutting her hair into bangs, which she always regrets. She is a new mom, and a wise ass. She blogs about crap at imstillfab.com.

That’s 50 words. It works, no? No? Okay, then what about this?

Erica V is a writer who tells it like it is. She remains energetic and positive about everything, even though she is sleep-deprived. She is married to a lovely husband, who relies on her to find things in the house, and has a daughter who likes to chew on the carpet.

Oh man, I’m one word over. How about this…

Erica V is a writer who talks too much and listens too little. She likes to make pouty lips at herself in the mirror, and is currently working on her latest camera pose: Mama with baby. She prefers slippers to stillettos and is a slow runner.

And that is four words too short.

I guess I still have some work to do. If you want to see what I end up putting in the pages of SJ Magazine, well, I guess you’ll have to wait until the issue comes out.

It’s hard to talk about yourself in 50 words…. What would you write for the world to see??

I was a happily 5-month pregnant emotional wreck on her way to work when from the corner of my eye, I saw it: A ghostly white, creepy, crawly, spindly spider atop my dashboard. Consumed with its potential for a sneak attack, I screamed, jumped and smashed into the stopped pick-up truck behind me.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He yelled, I cried. He apologized, I bawled.

Minutes later, I was hooked up to monitors, giving blood samples and peeing in cups. Baby and Mommy okay? Yes. Car? Not so much.

And the spider? Watch out – he’s still out there ready to attack again!

Now head over to Mama Kat’s and see what other people wrote about this week!