First of all, let me say that this story involves throw-up. If you are averse to hearing such a story, please skip to the next post. I don’t want to make you sick! If you’re a parent, chances are you’re over it, so read on…

When it comes to parenting, Hubby and I have lots in common. All the important things. However, one of the places we differ is in the treatment of sick children. Specifically, children who are vomiting, or who are about to vomit. For instance…

Not long ago, one of our young children was about to be sick. She’s not old enough to go into the bathroom and take care of it herself, but there was no doubt about what was going to happen.

Sensing the imminent upchuck, Hubby jumped backwards, with a graceful agility I did not know he possessed. He nailed the move, and landed safely outside the splatter zone.

In the same second, I — almost without thinking — lunged toward my daughter. I got my hands cupped under her pale face just in time, and caught the mess! Yes, in my bare hands. I’m a mom. I’ve been a mom long enough to know it’s much easier to wash my hands, arms, and/or shirt, than to scrub the sofa, floor, and/or carpet!

Once things were cleaned up and under control, I pointed out the difference in our reactions to my husband. I asked him why he jumped out of the way, leaving me to jump in. He said, “I don’t know. It’s just a reflex, I guess. And you’re a vomit magnet.”

“Vomit magnet.” Next time I’m revising my Mom resume, I’ll have to add that to my list of talents and responsibilities. Head Cook, Nurse, Chauffeur, Tutor, Vomit Magnet. Yeah, that’s impressive.

Here is a funny story I had to share. My kindergartener recently had trouble getting his fingers all the way into his gloves before going out to the bus stop. He insisted there was something in there! I said, “Just try again,” because sometimes that works… He tried jamming his fingers into the gloves, but they wouldn’t go all the way in.

So, being a good mother, I turned the problem glove inside-out to check for debris. I was expecting a scrap of Kleenex or a piece of grass. I got the first couple of fingers checked out. Nothing was there. Turning these gloves out is no easy task, because the fingers are pretty small.

I continued with the index finger, and started pushing the tip of the glove inward. As I worked the glove and opened up the finger, I saw long, brown fibers being pushed out. I thought it might be a piece of mulch. Then, a roundish wad of something emerged. And finally, the whole leggy, smushed, balled-up spider fell out of the glove and onto the floor.

Fortunately, it was dead. Our vigorous attempts at putting on the glove had done the trick.

It’s a good thing my 6-year old is not afraid of bugs, or this might have been a traumatic experience.

The moral of the story: Always shake your gloves out before putting them on!

I have three kids of my own, and although I love them all dearly, they do have their moments. My first baby had trouble sleeping. He had allergies and acid reflux, which we didn’t get diagnosed until he was 15 months old, because the pediatrician kept telling us he’d grow out of it. “Stop breastfeeding him and he’ll sleep through the night.” “Take away the pacifier, because he can’t find it, and then he can’t get back to sleep.” “Just let him cry.”

That first baby is almost nine, and I still shake with fury when I remember what that stupid doctor put us through. Thankfully, I finally (I know, I should have done it sooner, but I trusted the doctor…) took him to a specialist and got things taken care of. It was nice to finally get some sleep! But I digress…

The point of this post was not to recount my old grudges.

Actually, some of our friends are just now having babies. We’re having a mini baby boom in our little circle. And even though I really want everyone to be healthy and happy, and I hope their babies are sweet little bundles of joy, there’s a snarky little part of me that hopes those kids throw some big tantrums and wake their parents up at all hours of the night. Just to be fair.

So there you have it: GeekMom’s dark side. Be afraid.

I am addicted to my computer. And the Wii. And my kids are becoming total gamers too.

Think I’m just exaggerating? Well, how about this for proof that I spend too much time at the computer? My wrists are tired and my hands go numb. Also, my eyes barely focus on anything that’s not 24 inches away from my face, because that’s how far away my screen is.

And then when I’m done working at the computer, I love playing on the Wii. It is so much fun! And of course, it’s the kids’ favorite indoor activity, and it’s what they want to do as soon as their chores are finished. Between the Wii, and games on the PC, they will play for hours, if we let them.

Now before you blast me for allowing my kids to spend too much time in front of a screen, let me admit that I know it’s a problem. Isn’t that the first step toward recovery? I don’t know. I’ve never been in rehab. And it’s not like we live in a broken down shack full of rubbish and filth. Our home is fairly clean, the kids are well-fed, they make honor roll at school, and we read to them every day.

We do turn off the machines and interact as human beings, but sometimes it’s difficult to tear everyone away from the games. That’s where I need some help. Now you brilliant inventors out there, here is my idea. This is going to make someone very rich, and I’m giving it away for free!

I want a bank that I can attach to my gaming devices. For instance, I attach this bank to the Wii, the kids put in some coins, and it plays for however many minutes I decide each coin is worth. Then, I can open the bank, collect the coins, and recycle them into the allowance or reward system (or use as Mom’s Mad Money!). How brilliant is that?

The coin system makes the play time easier to regulate, because there’s no arguing with the machine’s timer. Also, I think it would be helpful in teaching the kids about work and rewards. They do chores to earn money, and then they can decide how much of the money to spend on gaming, or whether they would rather save it for something else.

So, does such a product already exist? Anyone out there going to make one for me? Please?

Here is something my kindergartener said to me recently. It made me laugh, so I wanted to share it.

GeekBoy: “Mommy, do you know how I could tell the baby was awake?”

GeekMom: “How did you know, Punkin?”

GeekBoy: “I heard her through the baby ther-monitor.”

I was talking with another mom (name withheld to protect the un-cool) yesterday, and she said she had asked her favorite babysitter where Hollister is. She’d been noticing a lot of the young people wearing shirts from Hollister, and figured it must be a popular place to visit.

The teenager (a very sweet 18 year old) told her that Hollister is not a vacation destination. It’s a clothing brand and store.

Oh. hee hee.

The other mom and I decided it must be one of those hip shops at the mall with the really loud music. Maybe they have great clothes, but I’m not going to wheel my stroller in there. I think that’s the idea.

Just out of curiosity, I checked out the Hollister site. The shop is divided into two sections: Dudes and Bettys. What, no section for 30-something Geek Moms? I am sooo not “with it!”

It’s just the way I was brought up. When we were kids, Mom made us sit down after Christmas or birthdays and write thank you notes. By hand. We hated it, and it took forever! It’s not that we wanted to be perceived as ungrateful or rude (Mom explained that’s what people would think), but writing notes was so boring compared to playing with our new stuff.

Now that it’s so quick and easy to send a digitized message, whether by e-mail, IM, text, fax, e-card, or whatever, I find it even more important to do thank-yous the old-fashioned way. I love getting personal notes — thank you or otherwise — in my real mailbox. Every time I walk out to get the mail, I have a little flutter of hope that there might actually be something “real” among the junk. Most of the time it’s just bills, credit card offers, and advertisements. Even though this is normal, it’s still a bit disappointing. When something personal is hidden between the boring business envelopes, I get so excited! Aren’t you the same way?

Which is why I always try to send handwritten thank you notes, and I’m trying to get my kids in the habit of doing the same. It’s a battle, because they say it takes forever, and it’s boring… But I explain that people love getting a nice note in the mail, and it shows an appreciation for thoughtfulness on both sides of the stamp.

I think we watch too much television. That goes for my whole family. Kids, grown-ups, everybody. And I know we should cut back. I admire the families that have the gumption and commitment to turn it off for a week, or even get rid of it altogether, but I am not that tough. At least not today.

So imagine my reaction when I went grocery shopping and discovered a fantastic and devious new take on the old metal buggy. Now, I have three kids, so the plastic race car shaped carts are already a big hit with our crew. However, this was something entirely amazing — the TV Cart.

Oh, yes. The first time I encountered the TV Cart, I heard it before I saw it. A familiar tune wafting down the aisle in front of me. I found myself singing along to The Wiggles, and wondered where that music was coming from. And then I saw it. The TV Cart. A mother was pushing her blissfully entranced toddler in this big plastic pod. The cockpit of the cart is mostly enclosed, except for the front window. I guess that’s so the kid can breathe.

My initial reaction was one of surprise, mingled with disgust. What will they think of next? As if we need another thing to spend money on, and give our kids more TV at the same time? What kind of mother would do that?

On the way out of the store, I saw the station where the TV Carts wait to be rented. It’s a dollar per use. Now, I think of myself as a practical, frugal person. A whole dollar, just for TV during a shopping trip? Ridiculous. hmmmm.

A week later, I was at the store again. This time, I had two of my three children with me. Knowing I was in for a sweaty wrestle of an outing, I looked at the TV Carts. Could I be so frivolous? I started to rationalize, “With two kids, it’s only 50 cents each. That’s not so bad.”

My son was checking out the Cart as if it were a Mustang at the dealership. He peeked inside the cockpit. “Mom, there’s a TV in there!” Even his baby sister wanted to get into the Cart. I caved. I got change from the nearest check-out lady and fed it into the rental station. The kids jumped in, The Wiggles started to wiggle, and we were off.

With mixed feelings of guilt and euphoria, I completed the shopping without a peep, bicker, or cry from the kids. They didn’t even try to get out and run around. This mom’s verdict: TV Cart is a good way to get the shopping done when you’re having one of those days with the kids. It’s a treat for kids and parents alike, but I’ll be using it sparingly.

I have never been a big fan of Dora the Explorer. I don’t like to complain, but when Dora first hit the scene, I wanted to like her! I thought it sounded like a great idea to have a young Latina heroine solving problems and speaking Spanish! But right away, I noticed a couple of things I just couldn’t get over.

First of all, why doesn’t her shirt cover her belly? Isn’t it bad enough having to see grown-up women baring their tummies all over TV? Do we have to see it on preschool programs? I’m sure the animators made a conscious decision to leave her belly exposed, because it couldn’t be an accident. I mean, how many frames do they have to draw to make a single episode? Can’t they just draw her shirt a little lower? I guess it’s supposed to be cute, but the more I see it, the more annoying it is.

Secondly, why does she always shout? To me, the dialogue on the show seems so loud. Unless Dora and Boots are deliberately whispering, it sounds like they’re yelling. And then, they urge the viewers to shout at the TV! “I can’t hear you! Say it louder!” Or how about “Swiper, no swiping! Swiper, no swiping!” Stop!

I didn’t think Dora would last this long, but she’s still everywhere.

Don’t even get me started on Bratz!

It may come as a shock for new mothers, the way life starts to revolve around poop. From Day One, a baby’s health is measured in part by the poops he produces. And it doesn’t stop when you bring the baby home…

No, that’s just the beginning. Some hospitals send mothers home with log sheets, to make it easier for parents to keep track of all the diaper action. Not only do the diapers have to be changed and bottoms wiped, but the frequency and consistency of the poop needs to be observed and acknowledged.

Of course, this is a good thing to do. Baby bottoms need to be kept clean. Parents need to bond with their babies and build relationships of trust. Babies depend on their parents to tend them with love and concern. Poop needs to be monitored, because certain characteristics can indicate illness or other trouble.

So if you’re about to become a mom, don’t worry. After the baby comes, you’ll probably think and talk about diapers more than current events, movies, or anything else. Just remember that this is normal. Motherhood is not for wimps. And it’s totally worth it!