MomBrain is on hiatus for a wee little while, figuring out what she wants to be when she grows up. If your life is too bleak without my sunny influence, you can also find me:

In the Seattle PI

On Facebook

On Marjo Studios

Sue Eccleston of Windstream Publishing shows us that yes, Virginia, there is such a thing as bad publicity.

Here is one of my very favorite profiles and essays ever written. It was originally published in Equire Magazinem and I love that someone was creative enough to think of Mister Rogers and Esquire at the same time.

If you are a professional freelance writer, you really should subscribe to this.

Sister K of Citizen’s Rent has asked me to jump in as guest blogger and co-author. Does she realize she just opened Pandora’s Box? Bwah ha ha!

Hey, Mom, guess what? I just sold an article to Hooters Magazine! Don’t look at me like that, or I will tell the world about your little trip to a topless donut shop.

Baseball season has begun, and here at MomBrain HQ that means 16-year-old girls have us by the short ones. We have tickets to 20 games, which means trolling for babysitters 20 times. Pizza? Sure! Video? Take your pick! Illicit “Sex in the City” DVDs? Knock yourself out! It’s an easy gig. One extremely easy-going Little Guy who goes to bed at 7:30. Cable. Telephone. Oreos. And still we can’t find anyone for less than $8 an hour.

Major League Baseball marketing types will tell you that the Mariners are the MLB leaders in “giveaway nights,” where fans get a magnet or a bobble head or a poster. Tuesday was “Salute to Armed Forces Night.” The stands were marked with large sections of navy blue and green where service members attended in groups. A Navy woman with truly astonishing talent sang “God Bless America.” The Marine Color Guard presented the flag. And the fans received commemorative medallions. That were made in China.

Were you awakened by a siren blast last night? A mysterious, piercing shriek, the shrillness of which could not be measured? And was that shriek followed by a haunting melody, lilting in the darkness, the beauty of which could tame the wildest beast?

That would have been MomBrain, making her nightly potty trip at 2:00 AM. I normally don’t flick on the light, since I prefer not to go blind before my time. But this was an exception since Legos were strewn all over the bathroom floor, and we all know about the Lego Problem. So the light blasted on, and as I passed by the bathroom mirror a familiar face stopped me. Of course I expected the mirror to reflect my own lovely visage, but staring back at me … oh horrors … was David Cassidy. Somehow I had slept on my hair sideways, and now it was tall and skinny and cowlicked and feathered in a way that can only be described as Partridge-ish. I shook my head and admired my hair’s sassy movement. Tim the Hair Guy would approve. I fluffed it with my hands and watched it fall back into feathered 1970s perfection.

Well. I am not one to resist fate. The Buddhists have taught me that much. I picked up my hairbrush microphone and sang, using the tiled bathroom acoustics to their best effect. Yes, people, I sang, and I made it count.

This morning when I awoke I ran to the bathroom to continue the performance, but my hair had reverted to its normal triangle shape. Alas. Was it all a dream? I do not know.

I’m sleeping
And right in the middle of a good dream
Like all at once I wake up
From something that keeps knockin’ at my brain.
Before I go insane I hold my pillow to my head
And spring up in my bed
Screaming out the words I dread:
“I think I love you!”

Does anyone else think this video looks like Johnny Carson doing a bad impression of George Bush?

The Little Guy watched part of the presidential debate with us, in hopes that it would turn into a cartoon. Which it sort of did, just not the Looney Tunes he was hoping for. (Hm – let me rethink that …)

Anyway, here was our conversation.

Little Guy: I want to watch a cartoon!
MomBrain: No, honey, Mommy and Daddy are watching this right now.
LG: But it’s boring.
MB: But it’s important. That’s President George Bush. And the other man is John Kerry. All of the grownups are deciding whether George Bush will keep being our president, or if it’s John Kerry’s turn.
LG: I wike George Bush!
MB: Well I like John Kerry.
LG: (starting to cry) But I want President Bush!
MB: Why do you like George Bush so much?
LG: (crying in earnest) Because his wast name is Bush. And that reminds me of bwueberry bushes. And I wike bwueberries!
MB: I know you like blueberries. But doesn’t John Kerry’s last name remind you of your best friend Carrie?
LG: (cheering up) Oh yeah! I wike John Kerry!