I just simply refuse to put up with the traffic, the construction and the grit of New York City, unless I am also taking advantage of the perks… like the restaurants, the museums and live theater.

Which is how my husband and I ended up at the Soho Playhouse on Saturday night, to see, “Life in a Marital Institution (20 years of monogamy in one terrifying hour).” Yes. Actual title.

An off-broadway one man show – apparently about marriage and all its terror.

My husband Rick seemed a little apprehensive about the show, especially as we were directed to the front row. When you’re in a small, intimate theater, about to view something that could be just awful, it’s always better to NOT be in the first row. Because the front row means NO EXIT STRATEGY.

I was sort of expecting a humorous look at the institution of marriage and family life… you know, funny musings that would suddenly remind me that I’m not the only who once in a while wouldn’t mind skipping the 10 millionth trip to the playground and instead, being instantly transported to Rome where I tear around on my pink Vespa, only stopping to eat chocolate croissants and drink cappuccinos and charm the Italians who for some reason can’t stop complimenting me and my model-esque physique.

Turns out, there was no mention of Vespas or croissants.

But the playwright and star, James Braly, did talk about his wife, who made him crazy by breastfeeding their two sons until one was 6 years-old and the other 4-years-old. Now I’m a huge advocate of breastfeeding but that does sound a trifle long.

Braly’s wife also insisted on burying one of their son’s placenta – which at the time had been in their freezer for 3 years. Turns out she wasn’t so odd though, because the rest of their friends were grilling and eating their kids’ placentas.

Yup. We got to hear all about this from the the front row.

The thing about the first row is that you can see the actor constantly spitting as he passionately delivers his lines, which is sort of distracting.

Plus, I had to pee for the entire 70 minute show, which is entirely too short a production to get up and make a big production. I mean, wouldn’t they think I had a urinary tract infection or something? Who can’t sit through a 70 minute show?

So I just kind of sat there, laughing at the sharp writing, watching the saliva fly and waiting to pee.

Now you see why we stay in New York City.

On the way out, a pretty girl stopped Rick to ask, “Are you Rick Folbaum?”

Of course, she was an old camp friend because everyone and their stepmother went to Jewish overnight camp with Rick. For all I know, Rick and this camp girl are now planning a romantic excursion to Rome, to ride their matching Vespas, because while they chatted it up, I high tailed it to the ladies room – to finally pee.

mama bird notes:

If you haven’t had a chance, check out Contributing Mama Erin Butler’s post on when to take the leap from one baby to two. Click on contributing mamas to read more.

Spurred on by comments on my previous post from The Hip Mom’s Guide and Mommy to a Tatertot, today I really want to delve into the topic of abortion.

Oh, I’m so not that brave.

I’ll never be THAT brave.

I seriously want to thank all of you who did not lash out at me after my political post this week. Yes, a few of you were uncharacteristically silent but I respect that completely. And I appreciate all the amazing, insightful, supportive comments. Even those of you who see a different future for this country.

For those of you who wondered, Barack Obama did not actually leave a comment on my post. Just a man who looks very much like him.

So now that I’m on a political roll – or more accurately a political obsession with the presidential race – how about McCain’s choice for Vice President?

As a woman, I’m extremely proud.

As a political junkie, I love an unexpected, interesting choice that brings frenzied excitement to a close presidential race.

As a now-professed Obama supporter, I’m not sure whether this move helps or hurts the Democrats’ campaign. It will be fascinating to watch.  I told you. I’m obsessed.

As a native Alaskan, I am – oh wait, that’s not me.

My husband thinks Governor Sarah Palin is a hottie.  But he wants to see her minus the bobby pins, with her hair down and her glasses off. I do think the 44 year-old could look A LOT hipper and more stylish.

Of course, probably also the case for 65 year-old Senator Joe Biden.

Still, I just want to be on record as saying, a cute cut, sassy blow-out and chic outfit never hurt anyone. Yeah Biden, I’m talking to you too.

By the way, after my apparently misguided assertion that “there is more to life than Starbucks,” a Starbucks representative invited me to a Better Breakfast Hour in New York City – “an opportunity to chat with other bloggers about breakfast trends and the importance of starting off your morning with a healthy routine.”

Wouldn’t kicking my caffeine addiction be a really super healthy way to start off my morning?

The Starbucks rep sweetened the offer by promising free Wi-Fi service on the day of the event. Ok. Pardon my lack of enthusiasm, but I thought Starbucks had finally started offering free Wi-Fi in all its coffee shops.

I’m not a PR whiz, but how about a free $15 coffee card?  Now that’s change I can believe in.

I think I may have just gotten uninvited.

mama bird notes:

Contributor Karen Palmer Bland is trying to figure out how to keep her kids grounded in this age of so much stuff. So throw on a pair of designer jeans, grab an overpriced coffee and click on contributing mamas to read more.

Now I have one more reason to adore Mommy Poppins. She has been working with Seneca Houses, an organization that provides temporary housing for homeless families in NYC. There are 100 children living in their apartments who desperately need school supplies for this coming year.

She has created an Amazon Wish List where you can order and ship the supplies directly to Seneca Houses. Or visit Mommy Poppins for more info. She and I are so grateful for your help!

By Contributing Mama Karen Palmer Bland

As a child I always worried about getting grounded, Funny, now as a parent, my main concern is keeping my kids grounded. (As in balanced and not spoiled.)  Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like it’s harder to raise kids today than it was 30 years ago. There seems to be more stuff in the way.

I mean, what does “good, clean, fun” mean in today’s world? A $200 per week cooking camp for 3 year-olds? Hiring one of those kid birthday party planners who plan $50/kid parties?  Buying True Religion jeans in a 12 month size?

And the toys!  When we visit my in-laws, they pull out the beautiful and simple toys of yesteryear that they saved for their grandchildren – all wooden toys, no lights or voices – just uncomplicated and magical. And these grandparents still believes that a ball is the best toy around. Now, go check out our playroom.  I hope you are a shareholder in Energizer.  It’s loaded down with heavy, plastic battery-operated machinery – each toy takes about a sleeve of those big Cs.

I decided to treat my boys and take them to the Wiggles Live show last week.  Not a cheap outing but it’s not every day that Jeff and Murray are in our own backyard.  I couldn’t wait to see the look on the faces of my boys when the lights went down and the magic began. I looked over at Sawyer and Rory… they weren’t looking at the big red car or Wags at all! In fact, all they could focus on were the $12 Wiggles light-up spinners that were glowing throughout the arena, in the hand of every-other kid.

I kept asking them, “Don’t you love the show?” All they could say was, “I want one of those flashlights.” I suppose we should have just watched the video at home and pulled out the safety lanterns from our car.  My bad.

I’ve always promised myself that MY KIDS WILL NOT BE SPOILED. But I’m starting to realize what a tall order that is – I’m worried.  I think it’s sort of cute and scary at the same time.  Like when we go to Starbucks, my boys run to the case and grab the boxes of organic chocolate milks. At home, Sawyer now rejects his sippy cup of milk, demanding, “I want a box.”  And now little Georgia (20 months), yells “tar-bucks” when we pass Starbucks at 35 miles per hour. This might be trouble.  (Note to my broker – hold on to SBUX.)

And not to mention technology’s contribution towards our spoiled little ones. Recently, my good friend, Jodi, was so upset because her daughter and a friend wore matching dresses for their school picture, leaving out a 3rd little girl from their best-friend triangle. A few phone calls later, Jodi had arranged for the photographer to photoshop the class picture so that all 3 girls were wearing the matching dress.  Need I say more?

So does it only get harder as our kids get older and they want more? I went to a public high school with an open campus – we could leave at lunch and go shopping or out to eat every day. We would have gone broke between high priced coffee and designer jeans! I sort of long for a more simple time – a time without $200 jeans, Jimmy Choos and Starbucks. I’m scared to imagine what my kids might long for in their teen years. I wish, with a few clicks, I could photoshop the issue away.

By Contributing Mama Erin K. Butler

I have always wanted kids. Two. Maybe three, but definitely at least two.

That is until I had one.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I have a loving, beautiful, smart, and sweet little girl. I think that’s part of the problem.

Katherine is at a fun age where she has just started walking and is curious about everything around her. She understands what we say to her, she reacts to what we do and she has a smile that makes my heart melt. This child of mine is so wonderful that I can’t imagine altering the family that we have.

It’s not that I haven’t thought about it. And apparently, so has everyone else.

A couple weeks ago, at her first birthday party, the cake wasn’t even cut when I heard:

“So, when’s the next one?”

The next one?

The next cut from Project Runway? The next new episode of “Gossip Girls?” The next Weight Watchers meeting? But before I started spouting off the fall TV line up or how I have been starving all week to save up enough points for this birthday party… I got it.

The next baby.

It’s hard to answer that question when I feel that she is still my baby. Even though that baby has somehow transformed into a little girl.  Where was I when that happened?

Right now, it’s just her and me, day in and day out, and it’s so easy. Another child also means sharing my time with Katherine and I don’t know if I am ready for that.  Another child in the mix will make life less carefree.

With one child I can still run errands at my leisure, make plans with friends, maneuver around one nap time and still manage to get a decent night sleep most nights. The idea of round the clock nursing, severe sleep deprivation and overall exhaustion again is terrifying.

Yes, I know billions of women do it everyday and I have never heard anyone say “Boy I wish I never had this second child”. Ok, I actually did hear that once, but she was really sleep deprived.

And I remember those rough first few weeks after she was born. Ever hear of colic? Yeah, we had a touch of that… every evening for about 6 hours. Is there a polite way to say I wanted to throw myself in front of a bus?

I swore I would never go through that again. I remember whispering to Katherine in the wee hours of the night that I hoped she enjoyed life as an only child.

However, my sister Johanna is one of my very best friends, my lifeline and I don’t know how I would live without her. I would hate to deprive Katherine of a sibling because I feared endless hours of crying and constant interrupted sleep.

But probably one of my strongest motivations to even consider baby #2 is the joy on Katherine’s face when she is around her cousin Kyleigh, my sister’s daughter, who is just 8 months older than her. They have a mutual love and admiration for one another so intense that they can’t stop hugging each other when they get together.

I know a sibling would be good for her…and for us too. To have another child make us feel as incredible as Katherine does would indeed be a gift. And deep down, as scary as it sometimes is to even consider another, I have moments when I feel our family is not yet complete.

And maybe I will never really be “ready,” but I am getting there. Even six months ago the answer to that nagging “next baby” question was a flat out no. And now…?

I’ve progressed from a definite no to a definite… maybe.

Maybe baby.

So I was going to write a really glib post about this guy I overheard at Starbucks. He ordered (and this is verbatim because I actually took out a pen and wrote it down) a venti, half caf, skinny, no foam, vanilla latte at 130 degrees. Yes. Seriously.

Even the seasoned Starbucks barista looked up at him like… Are you insane man?

But this is America. And the customer got his perfectly crafted coffee. At 130 degrees. If not, I’m sure he returned it for one the right temperature. Because who out there can honestly drink a coffee at 131 degrees?  Don’t even get me started on 129 degrees.

And I actually have a lot more dumb crap to say about Starbucks, all of which I’m sure would add a lot of value to your day. But there is just something bigger on my mind.

I purposely stay away from politics on this blog because I don’t really care if you are a Republican, Democrat or Ralph Nader’s lover as long as you think I’m funny. At least some of the time. And I don’t really want to piss off or alienate any of you, my cherished readers. And I do absolutely cherish everyone who takes a few minutes out of their very hectic, full lives to read this site.

But then I watched Michelle Obama.

And Ted Kennedy.

And Hillary Rodham Clinton.

And Bill Clinton.

And Joe Biden.

And I felt something that hasn’t really stirred in my soul since I was a newbie out of college and I hit the campaign trail in favor of my favorite candidate. My 1992 self (with the big super bleached hair and even bigger dreams) used to get down on my knees and pray that my candidate would win and lift the dark cloud over our country.

And this week, 16 years later, I feel it again… Passion. Hope. The real chance for authentic change.

I think turnover in Washington is an incredible thing. When any political party gets too comfortable, they just seem to lose their focus, their drive, the reason they came to Washington in the first place.

And boy, do we need change again. I want our environment protected. I want everyone to have access to quality schools and health care. I want choice protected. I want our troops respected. I want our veterans taken care of. And I want to bring our troops in Iraq home. Now.

I want to live in an America that is respected, not hated by other countries.

I want to live in an America that is revered for bringing peace to the world, not criticized for being on an endless war path.

I want to live in an America that feels more like me. And everything I believe in.

I’m overheating with political hope. 130 degrees and rising.