1. I will always work.

As you know, I vowed to never be a stay at home mom.

2. I will continue to enjoy fine food.

I never imagined I would eat old food simply to avoid throwing it away in the trash. Yet, several times a week, while cleaning up the table from lunch, I wake up and find myself feasting on delectables such as peanut butter and jelly sandwich crusts, banana nubs, 1 chicken nugget, or a 1″ square piece of cold quesadilla. Why?! It’s not like I don’t have my own lunch. The trash can isn’t that far away–in fact, I pass it on the way to the sink. What possible harm could come from tossing away old, cold, bits of food? Are people still starving in China? Yes, and it’s because I’m eating all the food.

3. I will never buy kid-themed anything.

Something happens when you get pregnant. You walk through life with a particular design aesthetic, and you really do believe it will never change. I remember rolling my eyes and shuddering every time my sister-in-law bought a new mom bracelet, or family sticker, or personalized stick-figure anything. I found it all revolting. That is, until we had Mikey. Six months later I was affixing something very similar to this abomination on my Christmas card envelopes as I whistled to some peppy little tune–no doubt by the Wiggles.

Then, at the beginning of the year I wrote a letter to Mikey’s class introducing myself as the room mom for the year. I wrote it on paper I bought especially for the occasion.

4. I will have a modern nursery.

I decided even before I was pregnant with Mikey that I would never, ever buy a glider. They are ugly, serve only limited purpose, are ugly, cost a fortune, and are ugly. Instead, I was super slick and bought this chair from IKEA. Yes, it had a longer life than most chairs out there–Mikey and I can still sit side-by-side and read a book–but it DOESN’T ROCK. See, in my little know-it-all, pea-sized brain I forgot that babies float in amniotic fluid for 10 months and happen to like rocking. So you know what I had to do? If I wasn’t in the living room rocking him in our La-Z-Boy (more on that chair another day) I was sitting in my “design savvy” Ektorp rocking back and forth like Rain Man.

I have this in Nico’s nursery.

5. I will never write a mommy blog.

Oh, hello Internet. Fancy meeting you here!

6. I will never drive an SUV.

When we got pregnant with Mikey, I was driving this:

Now I drive something like this:

I even lucked out and found one in the same Soccer Mom beige.

7. My children will maintain their own identity.

Right after I had Nico, someone asked me if I would dress they boys in matching clothing. I said no, because that was stupid.

I would upload all the pictures in which they wear matching clothing, but the internet might break.

So there you have it. Seven random ways in which motherhood made me a liar. I feel much better. Feel free to confess your own motherhood induced debauchery. You are not alone.

Some observations:

Even when happy, Nastia Liukin looks sad. Something about her eyes makes her seem like an old soul.

I will never be mistaken for 2008 Olympic Gold Medal winner (Women’s Marathon), Romanian Constantina Dita.

This little troll stud (?!) bugged the crap out of me. Too much frat-boy testosterone coursing through that 5’1” frame. Oh, and walking hunched over and pushing your shoulders forward does make you look broader, but it also makes you look like you are walking hunched over and pushing your shoulders forward to make yourself look broader.

Watching Michael Phelps win 8 gold medals was awesome.

Usain Bolt was impressive, and has a very convenient last name. But would it kill him to save the showboating until he actually crossed the finish line? I admit I would not have cried tears into my pillow at night had he tripped on his flapping, untied shoe lace two feet from the finish line.

Something tells me he likes the attention.

Did you watch the Olympics? Are you tired, behind on work, and simultaneously happy/sad it’s over with, like me? What observations did you make during the Olympics? What do you think of the Chinese age controversy? (Nice collar, IOC young dude)

p.s. Since the Olympics are over, look for How I Met the Mister, Part II tomorrow!

For the record, I think I was 11. In fact, I know I was 11 because we were flying back from vacation when I innocently asked my dad in a crowded, quiet airplane, “Dad, how many states are there in Europe?” After he picked his eyeballs off the floor and took 3 blood pressure pills, he calmed down enough to be barely yelling at the top of his lungs.

“WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU SAY??? OH MY GOD, MIRTA, DID YOU HEAR YOUR DAUGHTER??? I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EMBARRASSED IN MY LIFE!!!!”

Really? Not even now, with 150 strangers looking at us?

I spent the next 6 hours on a plane answering geography “pop” quizzes drawn up by my dad on cocktail napkins. My brothers, younger bastards that they are, lapped up my punishment like Cheshire cats.

Mike (9 years old): Haha. I can’t believe you thought Europe had states.

Jules: Shut up.

Paul (7 year old): Yeah, Jules. I can’t believe you thought Europe had states.

Jules: That’s real original Polly-Want-A-Cracker.

Paul: I TOLD YOU TO STOP CALLING ME THAT!

Jules: Well it fits, Parrot Boy.

Dad: You three knock it off back there or I’m getting out of my seat!

Mike: Jules, you’re so dumb I bet you don’t even know the seven continents.

Jules: I said shut up, and yes I do.

Mike: Say them.

Jules: They’re the ones that start with A, and I don’t need to tell them to you.

{Strategy: Mike is a genius. Freakishly smart. I knew I was skating on thin ice by entertaining any sort of mental battle with him and was avoiding having to directly answer his question about the continents.}

Mike: You don’t know them. How could you? You thought Europe had STATES.

And, like most battles, I lost on account of pride.

Jules: Fine. North America, South America, EUROPE…

{Starting to fade}

Asia…Australia…

Mike: I KNEW IT! You don’t know them! OhMyGod! DAAAAAAAAD!

And you can imagine how thrilled my Dad was to discover the names of seven continents didn’t just roll of my tongue like gum balls. The next three “pop” quizzes involved continents. I think it was fill-in-the-blank.

But don’t worry, I know them now. Except that I had to double check in Wikipedia because for some reason I thought there were eight and I was going crazy trying to remember the last continent. Especially since, while scanning the world in my mind’s eye for the missing 8th continent, I realized suddenly I ran out of earth.

All this to say I found this on Darla’s blog and thought it was the most perfect thing ever for this geographically-challenged, California girl. So perfect, in fact, I just might send it to my Dad and brothers..knowing full well one of those clowns will bring up that stupid continent story.

Also, I wanted to thank you for the fantastic book recommendations! I’m still working my way through them, but I just have to say you all have some fantastic taste in books. Right before we left for Lake Tahoe I took all your suggestions to the bookstore and planned to take them all off the shelf, read the backs, and then decide which I would bring on the trip. Then God started laughing. And Nico started crying. And Mikey had to have one of each wind-up toy. And a ball.

I ended up grabbing the first four I could find. Not the thoughtful selection process I envisioned, but the books were all excellent so it worked out.

Since late June-July I have read and loved the following:

1. The Pillars of the Earth.

2. When You Are Engulfed in Flames.

3. Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day.

4. Naked.

5. The Monsters of Templeton.

Next up is Middlesex after I finish a couple of outstanding projects. Then I’m going to make my way to PaperBackSwap.com and be completely unsurprised when not a single book I want is available. Then I will go to the bookstore and buy some more recommended reading.

How has your reading gone? And do you recommend I add any other books to the pile? It’s big, but oh so pretty.

This morning I reminded the Mister that Mikey’s last swim lesson was at 10:30. He looked at his calendar for the day, but his full schedule prevented him from making the lesson.

Uh huh.

Perhaps the Mister’s dream and his packed schedule had something to do with today being the day Mikey would jump off the diving board. I talked to the Mister right after the lesson and he confessed that, yes, he was a touch too weak in the knees to witness this:

{Mama, I did it! But we don’t need to do it ever again, ok?}

And that brings me to the question at hand. We leave for vacation in about a week, and I plan to devote at least one suitcase to books. I haven’t had the time to compile my summer reading list, unlike some more organized bloggers, but I do have some books already in mind.

I want to finish The Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follet.

Once I am done with that, I am going to dive into the new David Sedaris book, When You Are Engulfed in Flames.

But what next? I’m in need of a few good recommendations.

What are you reading this summer? I ask not only because I am curious, but because I might copy a few books from your list. I love religious themes and Latin American literature, but I’m open to anything except romance novels and hardcore chick-lit. I just can’t read that type of book without wanting to crawl into the story and knock the main character off her pink stilettos. I am embarrassed to say I am unfamiliar with most American authors. I’ve been muddling my way through the classics for so long that I’m out of touch. That said, I do love John Irving, so I might read a few of his less well-received, earlier works (of course I’ve read The World According to Garp–it’s one of my favorites).

OK, your turn. Are you up to helping me?

1. Like to the person who tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 5 songs you are embarrassed to admit to others you like and tell why.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blog.
4. Let each person know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

I tend to describe my taste in music as eclectic or, as the Mister likes to say, “all over the damn place.” There is absolutely, positively, no rhyme or reason. If you read my blog regularly, you shouldn’t be surprised. Rock, Folk, Pop, Country: I am an equal opportunity consumer of crap, and impossible to peg by my taste in music alone. I’ve spent the better part of the last day and a half trying to catalog my music. I think I’ve narrowed it down to five genres.

The Empowered Woman

Employed mainly in my early twenties during periods of romantic discord and/or long dating droughts, this often maligned genre is best appreciated by females en mass, e.g., “Breast-Fest,” “Lesbopalooza,” “Girlapalooza,” and “Lilith Fair.” Frequently used on long road trips where a Subaru Outback and a Golden Retriever is recommended, but not required. Also known as “Angry White Female,” “The Lesbian,” “90s Chick Music,” and “Ironic Intelligentsia.” Alanis Morisette, anyone?

Artists include, but are not limited to: Sarah McLachlan, Sheryl Crow, Shawn Colvin, Joan Jett, Fiona Apple, Suzanne Vega, Bonnie Raitt, Pat Benatar and, last but not least, everybody’s favorite…

The Indigo Girls!

Please listen to the audience singing. It is 99.99999% female. There are, like, three guys in the crowd and two of them are there on the off chance the girls they just started dating will sleep with them. The other guy is security.

The Urban Cowgirl

Mainly a byproduct of years of Sunday drives with my parents, my brothers, and one of two stations available on FM radio. Dukes of Hazard, The Glen Campbell Goodtime Hour, and The Mandrell Sisters only exacerbated matters. The death knell? Dolly Parton. Dolly flippin’ Parton.

Artists include, but are not limited to: Eddie Rabbit (I Love a Rainy Night!), Juice Newton (Playing with the Queen of Hearts!), Kim Carnes (Bette Davis Eyes!), and of course it goes without saying this Urban Cowgirl would be lost at sea without these islands for safe harbor:

I present to you Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers!

The Tween

Sometimes I forget I’m thirty-five and find myself drawn to music only a twelve year old would love. This genre requires a positive attitude, a sense of humor, little knowledge of music and a love of all things sweet and saccharine. To be honest, the reason I love this song is because my dad used to sing it to me and we would dance in front of my mom to a routine choreographed by yours truly. I can see my lace-up suede boots flitting underneath my swirling gypsie skirt as if it were yesterday.

Artists include, but are not limited to: Paris Hilton (Stars are Blind! …And my ears, deaf!), Hanson, Justin Timberlake, Jessica Simpson, and Britney Spears (pre-breakdown).

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for…meet The Archies, a band that NEVER EXISTED.

The Midnight Toker

Classic rock. This style of music is best appreciated in your mom’s basement and herbal cigarettes. And I love it. The music, not the herbal cigarettes.  I’ve actually never taken any drug in my life, other than that required by surgery. In fact, I barely drink and have been drunk twice. I’m far to committed to controling everyone within arm’s reach to be messing around with mind numbing substances. True story: when the Mister and I first started dating he was quite shocked to see my CD collection and programmed stations in my car. Flabbergasted, he turned to me and said, “You know, for someone who’s never smoked pot before you sure do listen to a lot of loadie music.”

Artists include, but are not limited to: Bad Company, Boston, Journey, Tom Petty, Eagles (!!!), Moody Blues, Fleetwood Mac, ZZ Top, Allman Brothers, The Who, Jethro Tull, and many, many more.

The Perimenopausal Woman

To enjoy this music you must be no less than 57 years or age. Or me. A weight problem is a bonus, but not mandatory. Also preferred are many male friends, most of then gay. Membership in a country club is required, as are charitable civic duties. Must like preparing themed dinner parties and hosting high school reunions. You can be college age, but you must be drunk in a bar with friends and receive a monthly stipend from mom and dad. Sorry, no exceptions.

Artists include, but is not limited to: Christopher Cross, Billy Joel, Kenny Loggins, Air Supply, REO Speedwagon, Bonnie Tyler (Total Eclipse of the Heart!), Rod Stewart (!!!), Lionel Richie, Elton John, Carly Simon, and the one who made his fortune touching you and touching me…

Neil Diamond!

So that’s it. My top five most embarrassing songs. Not really. These were just the top five easiest to score Youtube videos. Unfortunately, time constraints and a strict adherence to the rules forced me to eliminate “The College Frat Girl,” “The Divorcée,” and “The Solid Gold Dancer.” Oh well. Maybe next week.

Now I have to tag seven people. You all know how I loathe to tag people. This was so fun, though, that I don’t think too many of you will mind. You don’t have to do the videos. I did because my picks were so old I wanted to make sure those of you born in the 1980s knew who I was even talking about. Bah. I can’t do it. Same rules as before: do it if you want, and let me know if you do. I want to laugh at you commiserate with you.