"So. What do you blog about?"
Tuesday, 09 February 2010 00:00

My husband and I got into a heated argument yesterday, in front of our children.

 

"Stop making excuses!  Excuses are for the weak!"  I shouted.

"But. You help everyone else and never me!"

"Whatever.  Don't go there needy-only-child!"

"Seriously."  He rolled his eyes.

"I help you every time you ask.  Who stayed up late designing postcards for the office?"  I turned to him in the minivan. "If you need help, just ask!"

 

The three kids sat together in the second row of the car and laughed out loud.  We very rarely argue, rare enough that in the last eight years I can count on one hand the number of scream fests we've displayed before our children (my husband just said, "If that."), so the children laughed in confusion and begged for us to address each other by our pet name they regularly hear, "My Love."

 

"If you need help wiping in the potty.  Just ask me, My Love."  I joked.

 

And.  That was the end of it.  I'm highly motivated to complete something when fueled by negativity that attacks my character, it must be an immigrant thing.  "Have you gained weight?" From my mother, magically melts away the pounds.  "You never finish anything!" From my father, forces me to take one-photo-a-day-for-one-year.  "You are such a bad friend."  From no-one but if someone said that I would drown them with a cupcake delivery. Really, I could go on, but you get the point... it's not something I am proud of, or demonstrate to my children.  It is, what it is.

 

The argument stemmed from a conversation we had on a very lovely date night at swanky Bar Cento with two of Cleveland's cutest couples on Saturday night.

 

"What do you do?"  The husband of one couple asked me.

"Nothing really.  I'm the typical east-side SAHM."

"Oh. She blogs."  My girlfriend interrupted.

"Yes, I guess I do blog."  I acknowledged not knowing she knew.  Sh!t, everyone knows now.  Which makes it no fun to talk about people and give them the correct descriptions.  You know.  For the readers to visualize.

"Really?  So what do you blog about?"

 

That last question opened up an entire conversation about business, social networking, google and all things computers.  I watched as the savvy business men, who pay upwards of $1,000 a month for a company to maintain their business facade online, whip out their iphones for a google search on "classy."

 

"Impressive!  You are on the first page!"

"Amazing!  With only one word.  Classy."

"Thanks.  You should google search CORNEA WITH HERPES.  I'm on the first page too."  Side note: very classy to admit you have Herpes of the eyeball at a dinner date.  That's awesome and how I roll.  .

"You have done so much with your blog.  And your husband doesn't even have a working website for his dental office?"

 

Which is how/why my husband and I found ourselves in a verbal match inside a minivan on a Sunday afternoon in front of our children.  That made them laugh out loud and their laughter reminded us we were totally out of character.  Kids are good like that.

 

"You should finish your resume this week.  What you've done in three years of blogging, is great.  I know you want to work."

"Thanks. I will totally build you a kick-ass website.  Free of charge."

"Oh, I can pay you back.  My Love."  He winked.

"Hold your horses needy-only-child!"

 

So, I set my husband up with a shiny new business gmail account, new business domain name, new website built from scratch (with hidden tags that optimize google searches to put his business on top) and with some minor tweaks from the help of Mark the website should be the most perfect business card online overtaking any google searches for "Cleveland dentist" or "family dentist in Cleveland" or "dentist in Cleveland whose wife is bonkers."

 

I am thankful I answered, "So.  What do you blog about?" that night that I tooted my own horn, instead of brushing it under the table.  Because it forced me to help my husband's business and perfect my resume.  For a SAHM of eight years who blogs it's pretty quite amazing the things I've done, all of which happened because of this hobby right here.

 


To be filed under; something adorable I never want to forget.
Friday, 05 February 2010 15:21
from: Pauline

to: Mary

date: Thu, Feb 4, 2010 at 4:32 PM

subject: TO LUCY from Lola


can you bring your amarican grl dol on owr ske trip
plez emal me back

love

Lola

 

"Can you bring your American Girl doll on our ski trip?  Please email me back.  Love Lola. (Her very first email.)

jane1


 

 

from:  Mary

to: Pauline

date:  Thu, Feb 4, 2010 at 4:52 PM

subject:  TO LOLA from Lucy

 

Shr. I love you. See you tomoro! I hop you scee good

Lucy

 

"Sure.  I love you.  See you tomorrow.  I hope you ski good."

jane

 

 

The world would be a much happier place if we used the word LOVE in emails more often.  No?

 


The longest 20 minutes of my life...
Thursday, 04 February 2010 00:00

Nearly a year ago today, my sister helped me put Lola to bed by singing songs and blowing kisses that my daughter pretended to catch from the comfort of her own bed.  My sister was in Africa.

 

This November, my entire extended family gathered in the kitchen of my aunt's home in suburban Chicago on Thanksgiving to watch my three children energetically burn off some pumpkin pie.  We were in Cleveland.

 

Today Lola called my mom, "Are you home yet?  Are you? Are you?  How many more minutes?  I'm getting so excited!"  My mother gave her clearance to open up the package that had arrived on our doorstep. Two early birthday presents for two girls from grandparents who will be traveling far away on business.  "I be home in 20 minutes.  Tell your Mama to start computer.  I watch you open."

2-3-10

2-3-101

2-13-102

My mother, father and Apolonia watched as the girls shrieked with delight after recognizing the boxes.  "Why it says American Girl and not Polish Girl?"  My father, Poland's number one fan, contributed by using his trademark humor sending waves of laughter through our wireless connection.

 

It's so awesome being connected. Really.

 


 

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Author

Pauline Karwowski, aka OHmommy.

Is a self proclaimed globe trotting, minivan driving, SAHM stiletto ho. 

Happily married mother to 3 Cleveland natives: Jay the son, Lola the daughter, and Fifi the toddler.

 

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