Marin Mother's Group Forums

As a working mom I never have time to catch up on my news anymore. Although it makes me sad that I'm no longer an avid reader of the NY Times (I love their international coverage) or US Weekly, I have a new substitute: Southern Marin Mother's Group forums. From advice on where and when to get a breast lift to whether someone is "perimenopausal"- whatever the hell that is- to whether it's ok to think your children are total a$$holes, these daily "digest" emails are starting to finally make up for the lack of "real" news coverage in my life.

Here is a recent post: WHO IS MORE IMPORTANT, ME OR MY KIDS?:

I am really intrigued by the conversations going back and forth on multiple threads here. There seems to be a wave of sentiment that echoes something I heard from Madeleine Levine in her "Teach your Children Well" event at Book Passage - which is that it's OK not to make your kids the center of your universe. Marin is probably one of the places that was first to adopt the helicopter mom style of parenting. I know it's constantly being parodied now, but if you think about its origins -- which I imagine had something to do with a society (admittedly an elite one) in which well-educated, organized and ambitious moms had the means to quit their high-powered C-level Harvard MBA jobs and devote all that Type-A energy towards parenting -- there's really nothing nefarious or self-centered or ill-intentioned there. It was just a natural evolution of a certain segment of society. But now, I sense a tiny shift back toward the "old school" bad-mom type of parenting. You know, the mom on the phone for an hour between 6-7 with the glass of wine. Mine did it with a Winston in her mouth too. She shot me a death glare if I dared to interrupt it. I used to hate it, so why am I nostalgic about it now? Is it because I still struggle with the almost-inevitable desire to keep up with those mythical Joneses- the ones who probably never have sex and are down to their last 2 dollars and fight every night, but by golly their little angel scored 2 goals at soccer last week!! Is it because I wonder if my kids will suffer in the long run because I do not plan play dates and am now so turned off by the weird mom dynamics at their "excellent" public school (so excellent that everyone has private tutors for everything...STF??) that I actively avoid socializing with other school families. Or because I worry that I'm ruining them forever if we quit soccer after one season? If I'm the grinch that voices the opinion that no, they don't need a trophy just for showing up, especially cuz my kid sucked hard at soccer and phoned it in all season? Is it because I feel that I am the only one in my group of friends who will ever admit that my kids are weird and awkward and sometimes mean? How is it possible that everyone else's kids are always nice, sweet and incredibly smart and of course would never do ANYthing to hurt someone else? I am always heartened to see posts on SMMC that echo some of these sentiments, but what will it really take for these feelings to go from (anonymous) posts to reality? Is there an underparenting group that I can join? Will anyone join me for some box wine and a Winston at 6pm tomorrow night?? Thanks for listening, ladies.

Just decided to start blogging again. Although I'm most inspired on the road, there has been enough material in my Marin mother's group forums to make me feel like I'm abroad. To get me excited here is a summary of one of my favorite trips ever- Tokyo!


My husband and I were fortunate enough to spend eight days of our honeymoon in a city
that we eventually declared the most fascinating place on earth. It seemed that there was
a cultural adventure waiting for us around each of Tokyo’s nooks and crannies every time
we stepped out of our hotel. I don't know what else we expected from a country where
the Prime Minister's wife in an interview with CNN told her countrymen that she flew to
Venus on a flying saucer, her husband has been too, she eats the SUN and she wants to
do a movie with Tom Cruise because they were friends in a previous life, but we were
sure in store for some remarkable surprises.

Where do I begin? The Cat Café that is conveniently located in the middle of the nightlife
district near Shinjuku, Tokyo where you can literally make a night out of getting drunk
and playing with cats for ten bucks an hour? Or Japan's version of the reality TV show
The Bachelor, where a group of ladies are eliminated over a forty-minute period and at
the end of the show the last standing lady decides whether she wants to sign a marriage
contract with a guy she knows nothing more about than his salary, the fact that he is in
his thirties, and that he's a so-so Rocks, Paper, Scissors player?

At one point within our first day in Tokyo a nap was the next item on our agenda but
I couldn't sleep despite the jet lag because I was so eager beaver to get to Toto Super
Space. Toto Super Space was a real gem which housed examples of Japan’s world-
leading toilet technology. Toto was filled with toilets of all shapes and functions that
automatically lifted their seats as I walked by. Some of them turned on via the Internet,
others analyzed what was in there. No, really. Thank the lord flash photography was
allowed- I sure had fun with my camera in there.

The Japanese are so use to top of the line toilets that they have to excuse themselves
whenever the toilets at an establishment are sub-par. We stayed in a nice three-star hotel
in the center of Tokyo for part of our trip which had a toilet seat that didn't warm up.
To compensate, our toilet had a sign that read "this toilet seat doesn't get warm because
it doesn't use electricity. The operation method is different from the one that does use
electricity. Please look at ‘How to Use Shower Toilet’ for more information." Really?
Honestly folks? Our toilet has an instruction manual even though it won't even warm up?
Weird! I was on the verge of calling the front desk and getting a legitimate answer as to
why our toilet seat was so low-quality because I'll be honest, we were fairly "shocked."
After all, even hole in the wall Indian restaurants have warm toilet seats in Japan.

After getting over the toilet phenomenon, one of the pinnacles of our Tokyo extravaganza
was a night at a bar called Kagaya. I don't know if you could call this place a bar, it was
more like a way of life. It was run entirely by "Mark," whose crackpot behavior made
the bar famous. As soon as we sat down we were greeted by Mark's obligatory robot who
brought hand towels to our table. Then Mark brought us the menu, which he translated
into English by stroking it up and down and telling us how sexy it was. He explained that
in his bar you pick a drink and a country every time you order. I choose soju with green
tea and Brazil. Mark prepared my beverage then disappeared into his closet where he

dressed up in a Carnival outfit, loaded up his CD player with samba music and came out
of the closet hooting and hollering like a madman as he served me a drink in a cup that
shook and wiggled every time I picked it up. My husband had to pour his drink out of a
glass with a boy peeing. Japan is an interesting country.

When it came time to eat we didn't get to pick what we ate, instead we just had to choose
which type of menu we ordered from. One of the choices was: "Hey Master, you know
what, today I'm feeling free. Get me something soothing. Wow me. Bang me. You know
what I'm talking about...2625 yen."

When Mark finally brought out our bill which was rolled up in a Barbie doll's shirt, I
thought to myself- wow, the Prime Minister's wife is really starting to make sense to me.
Tokyo must be a very special place.