So I know some of you were excited for my new reality show where smokin’ hot real estate brokers mud wrestle for the chance to sell my apartment, but alas, that is not the reason for the “Good Morning America” shoot. I promise, I’ll try to get that reality show off the ground.

Instead, it all centers around the launch of this new genetics site, 23andMe which can analyze your DNA and tell you your risk for certain diseases, your genetic traits and information about your ancestry.

For example, I learned that I’m unlikely to be a sprinter. Which means my Olympic dreams are now centered more on ice dancing and less on the 400 meter hurdle. Which works for me because the ice dancing outfits are way more glittery.

So here’s an excerpt from my first post for 23andMe:

“When I think about analyzing my DNA, well, I immediately think of high school biology and how Mrs. Hendrickson made me dissect that super gross dead cat. And my lab partner hardly did a thing….” To read more click here.

Apparently, my 15 seconds of fame is supposed to be on GMA between 8 and 9 am EST. And because my husband Rick is always trying to steal my spotlight, he just had to go and win an Emmy this week. Seriously, how awesome is that?! Congrats Rick. I mean Mazel Tov!

Here’s the GMA piece.

A crew from “Good Morning America” came to my home recently. They wanted to interview me for a story about… well, I can’t tell you. Seriously, I can’t. It all launches March 31st so you’ll know soon enough.

And if you’re thinking oh, this must be the launch of Kelcey’s new reality show where she pits hot, sexy real estate brokers against each other to see who can sell her apartment first, well, you MIGHT be close. I just can’t say.

So, on the day of the shoot, I took Summer with me to get a blow-out. I found a place to blow dry my hair for $25. This is super cheap in Manhattan. And when I say cheap, I definitely don’t mean classy. Proof: My “hair stylist” had the first button of his jeans undone and his pants were pulled down so low, I could see about three inches of his briefs.

Straight, sassy hair and a 45 minute peek at the Calvins -  all for $25. Sometimes you really can get your money’s worth in this city.

So the “GMA” crew shows up that afternoon and first we do an interview.

TV shoots can take a long time and my children tire of “Sesame Street” and start roaming the apartment completely unsupervised. Soon after the cameraman says, “I think we have a chocolate situation.”

I turn around and see Summer dragging a carton of milk and the Nestle chocolate syrup onto our couch because apparently there is no better place to mix up a glass of chocolate milk than one’s livingroom.

Since the cameraman and the sound guy need me for additional footage, the very nice producer Maureen relocates the chocolate milk activity to the kitchen and decides to stay on there as supervisor.

and then producer Maureen plays Candyland with them. And paints Summer’s nails.

My girls also convince her to wear that hat from their dress up box.

Then the crew wants some footage of the kids…

Dylan and Summer obviously realize that “Good Morning America” is the big leagues and put on their most regal attire.

And then it’s over.

I beg the producer Maureen to stay and just give the girls a quick bath, read them a few books, sing a couple songs and put them to bed. But apparently, she has some other fancy TV stuff to do.

mama bird notes:

I want to tell you about a cool, new blog. My friend Franchesca Segrè (we used to be TV reporters together in the Connecticut hood) wrote a great book, Daughter of the Bride, and now it’s being turned into a movie! Isn’t she so damn glamorous? Anyway, if you ever wanted to know the inner secrets of the movie making business in LA (and really, who doesn’t?) check out her blog here.

On Thursday night, I read Dylan and Summer their new library books, including Maisy Goes to the Hospital.

And less than one hour later, I was racing Summer to the hospital in a taxicab. I sort of blame Maisy. Seriously, how could I not?

Poor Summer slammed her finger in a drawer. Well, Dylan actually did the slamming. Summer mostly handled the anguished crying.

We get to the hospital and the first nurse says…

“What are you here for today?”

“My daughter’s finger. As you can see, the nail has been ripped off and there’s a lot of blood.”

“Anything else?” the nurse asks.

Oh, I forgot to mention that she also needs an appendectomy. My god, isn’t having your nail ripped off enough?!

“No, that’s it,” I reply.

First Summer has x-rays and we find out she has a tiny fracture.

And later on, a plastic surgeon arrives to suture her finger.  I find out (because I asked a lot of questions) that he left the Broadway show “Hair” to fix summer’s hand. But no worries, he didn’t really like the show all that much and he did get to see the 14 seconds of nudity in the second act.

I know you’re totally wondering how this possibly comes up when a surgeon is sewing my daughter’s hand. But I actually asked if there was a lot of nudity in the show. I mean, that’s what “Hair” is famous for and I’m just telling you, at the time, it didn’t seem like such a weird thing to ask.

Finally, he’s done. With the sewing. And talking to me about “Hair” and other various Broadway shows. Turns out he’s a “Mamma Mia” kind of guy.

I’m so relieved that it’s over and I can take my baby home.

Dylan wakes up when we arrive and in her big sister, sweet, compassionate way says,

“Can I tell my teachers about this at school?”

Which is sort of like “Is my sister ok?” but not exactly.

An yes, she is ok.

Special thanks to my super doctor friend Adam who put up with my frantic calls from the ER.

mama bird notes:

I want to thank all of you for your awesome, kick-arse comments in reaction to my Washington Post story. I’m so grateful that you all have my back. Because the blogosphere does not have to be a cruel, nasty place. It can be a hilarious, warm, supportive community. So thank you for proving that.

The Seventh Generation giveaway was so popular that those awesome green folks agreed to give away two gift bags!!! The winners are Melanie and Brittany.   Congrats ladies! Send your full name and address to kelcey@mamabirddiaries.com and your bags will be sent. Also, if you’re looking for Seventh Generation coupons, click here.

I just had the fabulous opportunity to write a piece for the Washington Post’s parenting blog. Seems like a cool gig, right?

So I wrote a HUMOR piece about changing my daughter’s name from Presley to Summer when she was a baby.

And then I got comments like this…

“Seriously? I have three words for you, Mental Health Assessment.” Posted by VaLGaL

And this one…

“With a name like Kelcey yourself, it’s no wonder you named your kid Presley. What the hell were you thinking. You got what you deserve. I just feel sorry for the kid. On one count, for having a goofy name, and on the second count for having goofy parents. I’m glad I don’t know you personally.” Posted by Adrienne Najjar

And this one…

“Is there a back up topic today? How many different ways are there to call the author a nitwit?” Posted by jezebel3 (Note: I originally attributed this quote to FairlingtonBlade but it was an error on my part.)

And when the commenters weren’t insulting me, they were just lashing out at each other.

Viciously.

It was pretty ugly and disappointing.

Isn’t this the Washington Post for gosh sakes?

Out of 70 comments, I did get a couple nice ones.  And when I say a couple, I really mean just TWO.

Are you familiar with the vacation jinx?

This is how it goes. You JUST start dating a guy and things are going really well. You’ve got chemistry and he’s constantly calling you (in a sweet, new romance way, not in a weird, suffocating way). You have a great feeling that this relationship could actually go somewhere. You imagine that your kids will be named Tabatha and Finn but you’re totally flexible because you realize a good relationship is about compromise.

And then one of you has a vacation or business trip. The trip could be a few days. It could be a week. It doesn’t matter because by the time you or your new boyfriend returns, the relationship is totally over.

The magic has just somehow disappeared, never to be rekindled again. The mysterious, inexplicable vacation jinx.

Well, marriage apparently does not make you immune.

Rick and I had accepted an offer on our apartment and we were drawing up a contract when our buyer went on vacation. To Costa Rica. For a week.

And that was the last we ever heard from him.

So he’s either trapped in the Costa Rica jungle and Spider Monkeys have stolen his Blackberry or he decided not to buy the apartment.

Either way, it’s obviously over.

On the sunny side, we’ve had a lot of interest at our open houses and Rick and I know there’s a cuter, richer, more perfect buyer out there for us. A buyer with no vacation plans.