At BlogHer, child locked in bathroom, Merck for Mothers

I feel like I left home eons ago (cab did pick me up at 4:15am so I am going on many an hour now), but I am thrilled to be in San Jose for BlogHer '14. My hotel room is so large, so clean, so quiet, so pretty. I even have a vanity with a mirror and sweet little bench where I can sit and style.my.hair. Can you hear my smile? And check my view- palm trees, the pool, and though you can't much see them, the mountains in the distance.

I just FaceTimed with the boys and found that Oliver had "accidentally" locked himself in my bathroom for a full five minutes and did "feel very scared." Jack added, "He was crying his lungs out!!!!" Let it be known that just last week I told Oliver not to lock himself in there because if something happened, I would not be able to get to him as there is only one door and it's a one-way lock. I'm so happy for further evidence that the boys take in, trust and heed my advice.

Not. I mean, he did sing this song of his own authoring just a few days ago. Ol "doesn't know anything"

Anyway, Tom got home and helped the sitter free Oliver if I understood the story. He was fine when we talked, and both boys were lolling about on my bed, dirty as get out and showing me their bottoms. Did I mention that I'm going to enjoy this lovely hotel for the next three nights?

This afternoon, I attended a Merck-sponsored presentation on their ten-year/$500 million commitment to ending maternal mortality worldwide: Merck for Mothers.

Three tragic and sobering statistics amongst many:

• Every two minutes, a woman dies from complications experienced during pregnancy and/or childbirth;
• In America, the death rate from pregnancy- and/or childbirth-related complications has nearly doubled in the past two decades;
• The U.S. falls behind 63 other countries in maternal mortality rankings. Our global rank is WORSE than 63 other countries, putting us in the top echelon among developed nations. Not a point of pride!

Here in the U.S., three leading causes of maternal death are preeclampsia, pulmonary embolism and postpartum hemorrhage. Most of these deaths are preventable, and Merck is working to make sure we count maternal deaths in a systematic way (not current practice), create clear treatment protocols for emergent women (in the way all ERs are trained to treat heart attacks) bleeding, convulsing and dying of clots, track data to better understand the rise in maternal deaths, become better able to help women at a community level so that a last-gasp trip to the ER isn't the only option and scale best practices for greater impact.

Dr. Priya Agrawal, executive director of Merck for Mothers, is a seriously impressive and impassioned woman/physician/force of nature. I think the program is in excellent hands.

A hit and a miss; diary unearthed

I got to visit with my dear friend, Gay, this morning, and while doing so made my stellar Black Velvet Aprisauce as well as a failed corn chowder. Darn! Four ears of fresh corn down the drain, literally, though I will say that made for the easiest cleaup and put away ever. I added way too much salt to the corn stock, and though I attempted to dilute it afterwards, such was not to be. I mean, how stubbornly salty can a broth be I ask you? Apparently incredibly so. Oversalted food is perhaps my least favorite fail. I hate bungling a dish, but so goes experimentation in the kitch. A few months ago when my Mom was here visiting, she brought some old treasures she found in our attic: my childhood copy of Where the Wild Things Are, some photographs, an article or two, my Disney World autograph book and two diaries. One, from the summer before 9th grade, is a small, teal-colored book with bears on the cover and a simple lock that was ludicrously easy to pick. I was disappointed to find just a few entries, but read them curiously and gathered I was fairly boy-crazy and proud to have learned the Hammer, Roger Rabbit, Skankin and New Wave dances at a summer camp in Natchitoches, LA. Oh.my.god. What, pray tell, is the Skankin?

I hoped for more in the second journal, a red and white book, also locked and also with a bear on its cover (WTF with the bears), and was thrilled to find it a gold mine. Each page is dated, running from January 1 - December 31, 1986, which covers the second half of my fourth grade year, that summer, and the fall of my fifth grade year. I read the whole thing in bed a few nights back and was laughing so hysterically I thought I'd wake the boys.

Though I switched schools for fifth grade, in fourth I was still a student at Episcopal Day School (EDS) where I'd gone since kindergarten. Apparently, our fourth grade teacher, Mrs. Emily Alexander (who I remember loving, although my diary tells me this was not always true), gave out a Citizen of the Day or Week Button with which I was obsessed. A good 50% of my entries between January and May involve who received the button, how hard I wanted to get the button EVERY time and if I didn't, my thoughts on why and how I'd get it the next go round. This button was a giant black and yellow aluminum thing with a pin on the back, and I do remember clipping it to my jumper (we wore maroon plaid uniforms at EDS) proudly when I did receive it. I must have been like Hermione Granger crossed with TracyFlick.

```` Oh my god, Nutmeg just puked on the kids' art table and on one of Jack's pokeballs. Thank god J was NOT home to witness that blasphemous act. ````

Anyway, Hermione Flick here seemed to have at best ambivalent feelings about school itself, "hating" it a good bit of the time if my loopy handwriting is to be believed. I was super excited about the RCA Tape Club. Do y'all remember that? You could "buy" 8 tapes for a penny if you then bought one at full price or something. Anyway, those arrived in February. I got the Citizen Button a few times, wrote down random shit like what kind of birthday party my sister had (a pony party), how many Jaguars and Porsches I saw one day (2; 1), mourned the deaths of Luther and Carmen (my goldfish), who else got the Button, when I got motion sick going to Melrose Plantation and threw up, and so forth.

Looking back, I read like a hot mess of triviality. It's hilariously embarrassing but also a reminder of just how real and serious things can feel in the moment and in a developmental period. I think it's important to realize that because although I do laugh at the kids when they go apeshit about something ridiculous (For ex: Oliver cried rivers of tears in a variety store last Friday because I refused to buy him a small, tweed, pleather purse for $10.99; I laughed a bit because seriously, people. For one, he already has several purses, and secondly, this was such a shittily made little bag with no functionality whatsoever, and third, I was already buying Silly String.), it's also important to take seriously what they take seriously (that's actually reasonably serious and worth taking seriously).

Other notes from '86: The Bears trounced the Patriots in the Super Bowl, 44-10. And the Challenger exploded. Weird to see that written out when I have no memory of experiencing it then but of course "remember" now because of history learned.

Funny kids, Muffins & BlogHer '14

At present, the boys are slithering around the house on their tummies -army crawl-style- attempting to elude the imaginary guys they're spying on, and I am slaving over a Pokémon badge case that Jack made from cardboard and colored foam sheets, extracting thin layers of cardboard with an X-acto knife so that Jack's handmade badges can nestle in each space snugly. I remain largely anti-Pokémon. I mean, I'm glad Jack is so enraptured with it and interested in learning the strategies of the game, but the more I've learned, the more I dislike its premise. Basically, the trainers run around capturing Pokémon against their will, 'training' them by being nice but not letting them go and then sticking them in Pokéballs until the little guys are forced to do their trainers' bidding which means fighting to the 'death.'

In any case, I'm worked my fanny off on this badge case which is just the humblest, grubby little creation you ever saw but whatever. Jack is proud, so I'm happy to help.

The kids built a Lego car while I shaved cardboard, and I overheard Oliver say, "I'm not being sarcastic, Jack. This is really awesome." Which almost made me fall off my stool, because what a disclaimer from a 5-year-old. Jack replied, with such modesty (and there I am being sarcastic), that "Well, my ideas and brain are really great sometimes." Good grief. What conversation.

I made some ginger peach muffins because I simply had to, and they totally hit the spot. Scrumptious!

Y'all, I realized about four days ago that I leave for BlogHer '14 this coming Thursday. I mean, I knew I was going, but the trip rushed up on me like my sneaky cat. I'm super excited! San Jose, here I come!

Jack and Tom are at a Pokémon playdate now -I kid you not- and Ol and I are off to read and then construct my AROMO desk as he found me out yesterday and now wants to be involved in the renovation. Hah!