Rebecca Eckler is one of Canada's most talked about newspaper columnists, the author of Knocked Up: Confessions of a Hip Mother to Be, which has been translated into nine languages. Also the author of the bestsellers, Wiped!, Toddlers Gone Wild, and Rotten Apple, the first in a YA series. Random thoughts on life in the competitive world of modern mommyhood. Blog will be loved by trendy mothers who still feel, or often feel, that the most important word in "mommee" is ME!

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Hairy-days.....

We've reached a milestone!

For the first time, yesterday, I could put The Dictator's hair in a ponytail.

Yup. It's only taken three and a half years, but the gal finally has enough hair to put in a mini-pigtail on top of her head.

For the first two years of The Dictator's life, I had to hear what a "lovely son" I had. I got over it, after the millionth time hearing it from strangers. I mean, at least they said she was "lovely" even though they thought she was male.

Even two weeks ago, running through Pearson airport, a man said to me, "Well, he certainly can run fast!" as my DAUGHTER ran ahead of me (in her pink sweatshirt, her pink pants, her Dora the Explorer shoes!)

Then a few nights ago, while I was doing a reading for Wiped! Life with A Pint-Size Dictator, a woman came up to me to tell me not to worry, that she didn't really get hair until she was 12 years old.

Luckily, The Dictator is all into dresses and tights now, so I haven't heard so much lately about what a "cute little man" my daughter is.

I think she may even have enough hair now to - gulp - braid it!

(Okay, I'm not going to rant about the hair she has on her back! I find it super cute.)

Tomorrow, we're going for a hair cut. It's not her first hair cut. I just figured if she's not going to have a lot of hair, and it's going to be short, it might as well be kind of styled short. So we've been getting hair cuts periodically.

Although, personally, I'm all into the little girls who have messy hair look. That kind of "I just got out of the ocean and I'm a surfer look."

Anyway, I figure after this hair cut tomorrow, it will finally grow in a bit longer. Cross fingers. Cross fingers.

It would just be kind of dissapointing to me if she finally got a lot of hair when she was 12, only to tell me that she wants to dye it blue.

Plus, us gals know how to braid for a reason. And if you can't braid your own daughter's hair, whose can you braid?

Monday, April 16, 2007

Shall I exit the Blogging World?

One of my best friends called me irrate last week.

"Did you know there was a site out there that is totally dedicated to making fun of you and saying the most evil things?," she asked. "I am so mad right now, I'm shaking. What fucking assholes! What pricks! I can't believe there are such assholes out there."

"Are you talking about that nine gram thingy?" I asked, nonchalantly.

"Yes! Did you know about that?"

"I knew about a year ago when they first started. I didn't think they'd still be doing it," I said, crunching on a cracker.

"They've been doing it for a year?" my friend screamed. "Don't they have lives?"

"They've been doing it longer I guess. Since I started my blog," I told her. "I'm starving right now. I don't have any food in my house!"

"I can't stand this!" my friend screamed. "I'm going to write in anonymously and stick up for you. These people are such fucking losers!"

"Oh, god, don't bother," I said. "They'll probably just think I'm writing in about myself. And then you'll be doing the same thing they do, posting anonymously."

"No, I'm doing it," she said.

After years of being in the "public eye" (or what that means in the Canadian media world) I have a very thick skin.

Which is what happens after reading many complete fabrications about yourself time and time again. I'm not joking when I say I can read/hear something about myself that I did last Thursday and think, "Um, I do remember staying in and watching Grey's Anatomy and falling asleep in my daughter's bed by 11 p.m."

Anyway it all got me thinking, especially after a very nice blogger I met at my book launch started blogging and got involved in such Blogger Drama, it is better than an episode of Nip/Tuck.

See, I read her blog. And I felt sorry for her. Not because she couldn't handle it (She can, because she has a brain) but because the evilness of blogging had finally hit me. I'm kind of asking myself if all this is worth it. Because a lot has changed in the year I've been blogging.

Anonymous assholes really have started to get to me. Not because of what they say about me (or my blogging buddies) but because they insist on doing so anonymously. I mean, seriously. How fucking pathetic. It's one of those, if you have something to say, say it to my face kind of things. If you truly believe what you write, why not just come out of the blogging closet?

Except, when you can be rude and evil under the guise of being "anonymous" it makes it so darn easy, doesn't it?

What I don't get is what motivates these people. Hey, you hate me and my writing, so be it. Don't read it. Except you do, and then you just have to write something anonymously.

I have a problem with this. Not because I don't think you should be able to write whatever you want in the blogging world, especially if you have something worthy of debate to write about, but because you are wasting such time being assholes.

Is that really how you want to live your life? - "Oooh, let's make fun of Eckler and all those who stick up for her?" Seriously. Is...that...how...you...want...to...live...your...life?

I mean, granted, I was quite honoured to be the star of a fake blog entirely dedicated to making fun of my blog. For, like, the first three days. Then it got old. At least for me. But, surprisingly, it hasn't got old for some, who really are quite bitter. And bored with their lives.

In all that time wasted on making fun of little ol' me, these "assholes" as my friend called them, probably could have written a book. Or at least a number of magazine articles. Or been out volunteering. Or, if they are parents, spending the time with their children. Or, I don't know, going for a nice walk.

In any case, here are some clarifications - in case you were wondering.

1) I do not write fake posts to my own site. To me, that is like authors who buy their own book on amazon, just to get a lower ranking. It's not reality, so why bother?

2) I did not ever call my daughter a "bitch." I wrote, once, when she was a baby and screaming that she was "being bitchy." She was. There's a big difference calling someone a "bitch" and saying someone is "being bitchy." I call my best gay friend, who likes to gossip a lot, "bitchy" too sometimes.

3) I don't ever write fake posts to other sites sticking up for me. See number one. Why bother?

4) I never post evil things or anonymous posts to anyone. Why? Because if you don't have something nice to say, why bother? I just don't comment.

The blogging world has definitely changed. I'm not sure I like it. In fact, I don't like it. I do like reading bloggers. I do like the support, which is why I got into blogging in the first place, and many bloggers I do feel (even if I've never met them) are friends.

As for the blogging drama some of my blogging friends have been put through, keep your chin up. Who cares about anonymous bloggers? They're cowards, not worthy of your time or energy.

As for me, tell me if you think the blogging world has changed - and not for the better?

As for the anonymous posters, what can I say? Do yoga.

Sunday, April 08, 2007

Blogger Guilt

Ok, so I have Jewish guilt - about everything - and mommy guilt - about everything - and now blogger guilt.

I've been such a bad blogger. I swear, I keep saying to myself, "Ok, I have to blog about that!" And then, well, life gets in the way and then I feel guilty and then I eat a Big Mac to try and make myself feel better and then I'm just left feeling guilty - and bloated.

Anyway, I've started the book tour for Wiped! Life with a pint-size dictator and that's pretty much taking up all my time. I did get to go to Halifax, which I loved. At least the one night I was there and the next morning when I was on their breakfast television show, and then a newspaper interview, and then a radio interview.

You know when you're so busy you actually dread going to bed, because you know what you have to face the next day? That's the point I'm in right now. I don't want to go to bed because I don't want to wake up the next day. Which is hard, because when you have super busy days, what you need most is sleep...but it will all be over soon enough...

I think being on a book tour is kind of like getting married.....there's so much planning and anticipation and so much detail that has to go into everything that you actually forget to have a bit of fun.

I kind of feel like I'm the bride who doesn't have fun at her own wedding, except I'm the author who isn't having any fun during her book tour.

So, starting right this second, I'm going to start having fun. I have this book launch next week and, gosh darnnit, I'm going to make myself have fun. I will be the bride who has fun at her wedding come hell or high water!

Last time I had a book launch party, not only was I as sick as a dog, but it was also the season finale of the O.C. That was back when the O.C was totally hot and actually good, so most of the night I spent wondering if I was going to be home in time to see the finale (this was also before TiVo....and I had yet to figure out my VCR.)

In fact, it's kind of cool, when I think about it, that I never learned to work my VCR and now it turns out I will never have to learn...see? Everyone who thought I was a total freak for not figuring out how to work a VCR over ten years was wrong. I didn't need to learn!

In the midst of book tour madness, the weather is fucking freezing in Toronto. I so did not pack right for this weather. I thought, hey, it's April, I can get away with wearing tank tops. Which is what I packed. A lot of tank tops.

I so can not get away with wearing tank tops. Which means I had to go shopping (A serious emergency!) Trying to find sweaters in stores in April is hard enough. It's impossible.

But in the midst of all this book-tour-can't-find-any-winter-sweaters-in-stores-for-me, The Dictator has decided that she will ONLY wear tights and dresses nowadays.

I swear to god, I take her every morning to the Tim Horton's one block from my house to get me a coffee and her some timbits, and it's like she's dressing for her prom. She...needs...to....wear...tights...and...a...dress..to...get...timbits.

Try reasoning with a three-year old that it's just fine to go to Tim Horton's in her pajamas with a coat thrown over, like Mommy is. It just doesn't work. It takes a good 45 minutes to get The Dictator dressed (she also NEEDS to wear her necklace and watch) for a two-minute walk to get a coffee.

So I've also been running around the city trying to find long-sleeve dresses for her. Which is also impossible.

On another note, I did just buy her a cute (summer) dress with skulls and crossbones. How do us mothers feel about dressing our kids in skull and crossbones?

I sometimes wear a skull and crossbone necklace and she loves it...she calls it "Scary"

"Why aren't you wearing your scary necklace," she'll ask.

Anyway, that's what's going on in my life. I feel a tad less guilty now that I've blogged. And I promise when I get through my wedding (I, uh, mean my book launch) I'll be a better blogger...