Ann Imig's Blog, page 12

I got to play Fun Spontaneous Yes Mom and we all got to #EscapeCabinFever!

Radisson Blu MOA invited my kids and me to #EscapeCabinFever as their guests for two days/nights of food, lodging, and activities. 

Last week I got to play a role even more unfamiliar to my kids than to myself- the role of fun spontaneous YES mom. I picked the kids up from school last Thursday and we headed north to the Radisson Blu Mall of America. Listen, two nights in a gorgeous hotel with a salt-water swimming pool and OH MY GOSH MOM THEY GIVE YOU FREE ROBES AND SLIPPERS alone would’ve thrilled them, but none of us could have believed the entertainment and experiences that awaited us.

First of all, walking into the foyer is like walking into a modern art museum full of funky kid-friendly furniture, hip whimsical decor, and graffiti-style pop art. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a swanky environment that didn’t require a hundred parental NO BE CAREFUL DON’T TOUCH IF YOU BREAK THAT YOU BUY ITs. In fact, right at check-in the staff greeted my kids with their own passports for the Blu Kids Club.

I loved how the hotel felt urban-chic and like an experience all its own–with a fantastic restaurant, bar, fitness facility and spa right on site (if only I’d had time to visit their world-class spa..sob!)–yet offered the convenience of a skybridge directly into the Mall of America. My kids got such a kick out of the fact they didn’t need their coats for the duration of the stay. Given the Midwest’s super-humid summers and very long winters, having a destination free from inclement weather and where your kids can exercise their bodies, minds, and yes even their outdoor voices serves as a huge plus.

We came. We saw. We ropes coursed-ziplined-rollercoastered-minigolfed-arcaded-swam-aquariumed-ate and ate and ate (check out the custom cookie desserts that Firelake Grill made for the boys. You should’ve seen their faces light up!)

Best of all? I said yes more times in two days than my kids typically hear in two weeks.

 

I said yes to swimming with my kids, I said yes to screaming through rides and slides with my kids at Nickelodeon Universe, I learned side-by-side my kids (and said yes to petting a slimy stingray) behind the scenes at SEA LIFE Minnesota. I even said sure fine go ahead to the emoji poop throw pillow from a mall kiosk.  The boys could not believe their luck.

YOU TOO can play Fun Spontaneous Yes Mom, and escape cabin fever at Radisson Blu Mall of America. The family fun package starts at $259 and includes the very cool play tent pictured above (for your kids to take home!) passes to either Nick Universe or Sea Life Aquarium, $10 SkyDeck arcade cards, and the Marty The Moose/Blu Kids Club. Note: standard rooms start well under $200 a night.

Thank you to the gorgeous and gracious Radisson Blu for allowing all of us two days of YES and many happy memories to get us through the long winter and beyond!

 

Mornings like this never happen

This morning fresh snow made our trees doilies, covering up ashy past-the-expiration January.

This morning I did not hurry my son. Neither of us blamed the other for probably ending up late. No one got irritated because he played Legos instead of emptying the dishwasher, or because I forgot the five more minutes of playing Legos warning and THANKS A LOT MOM now we’re going to be late again. We never end up late.

I didn’t ask over and over if he brushed his teeth, and he didn’t yell I ALREADY SAID YES THREE TIMES or complain about the injustice of having to retrieve his own socks from the clean laundry basket. I didn’t punish myself for not having more self-sufficient children, nor question myself over whether preparing his breakfast served as an act of love, or as an act of creating a future coddled man-infant.

This morning felt like when I find the perfectly-sized Tupperware and matching lid–clean and dry–without rifling through mismatches, and without anxiety over whether the container was once washed in the dishwasher and now leaches BPA or BPA replacement which can affect future gonads. Or something. Mornings like this never happen.

I made a list for Nine, and told him to yell out the garage door if he needed me while I shoveled the driveway.

Cereal for breakfast

Clear your bowl

Put away the clean silverware

Get dressed (ALL CLEAN CLOTHES)

Brush your teeth

Pack your backpack (folder, lunch, shoes)

Put on snow clothes

The snow moved easily and quickly with the snow pusher, and I gained the satisfaction that comes with clearing the driveway entirely before anyone backs out the car. In snow country you have a narrow window to clear your driveway before tire tracks make the job a giant pain in the snowbibs.

Nine peeked out of the front door, ready to go. I asked him to tell me the time. His hat with the ear-flaps ducked back inside and reported back with 7:59! Ready to go 15 minutes early. I asked him if he wanted to play in the snow or help me finish shoveling. He made the burning bush his snow fort, and traced a line with a fallen branch like in The Snowy Day.

My driveway cleared quickly and with minimum effort, without sweat or pulling any back muscles. That never happens. We cut across the church lawn making the first footprints with our boots. It’s possible that we smiled the entire way to school, and welcomed conversation with crossing guard Karen without any KAREN SAID HOW ARE YOU prompts. I watched him charge across the playground.

This afternoon I got to see this in reverse from my bedroom window, my boy galloping back across the church lawn, kicking up snow, maraschino cherry cheeks beaming. Snowpants days, you guys. They don’t last. I had hot chocolate ready, cooled down and awaiting the plop of marshmallows. On a school day. Yes, I did.

Mornings like this never happen. Like finding that matching clean perfectly-sized Tupperware on the first try. Like getting the snow cleared on a weekday without needing to use the car first.

The day this nine year old turned four, I pulled him all around the neighborhood on the sled in the dark while falling snow glittered all around us. I remember that birthday night. I’ll remember this school day morning, too.

***

Listen To Your Mother: Madison audition time is here!! Mothers and mother figures alike have a way of saying things that we seem to want to ignore, but somehow remember just when we need them. What stories stick with you?

You don’t have to be a mother to audition, you don’t have to be a writer or a performer. Yes, men are welcome, too! Find more details here, and mark your calendar for the 7th annual LTYM: Madison Mother’s Day Sunday, May 8th at 3pm at The Barrymore.

This is Ann’s brain. This is Ann’s brain on New Year Resolutions. Any questions?

New year resolutions twist me up, and not only because here in the first week of January my yoga classes are annoyingly overcrowded. I tried to draw my feelings for you, but I couldn’t convey exactly the feeling. The results remind me of something you leave in your emo artist feelings journal, and definitely don’t share with the internet. Maybe that should have been my first resolution for 2016.

For every resolution, the counter resolution seems as important and worthy. For every 365-day happiness challenge, please find a 365-day detachment because pain is the normal baseline for humanity and the seed of compassion according to Pema un-challenge. One cheek says GO KICK ASS AND TAKE YOUR PLATFORM FOR A COLORED CHALK EXPLODING IRON MAN MUD VICTORY, LADY BOSS! Turn the other cheek and it whispers get quiet and turn off the internet, because you can’t win at this and giving up is radical and awesome. My slowing metabolism says learn to eat less, and my Feminist brain responds with a WHY SHOULD WOMEN SHRINK AWAY TO INVISIBILITY power fist.

Simply put, my brain dislikes resolving or resolute statements or whatever conjugation of resolution seems appropriate given this context.

I resolve to be more open and hashtagREAL online so as not to promote competitiveness and illusions of perfection, while staunchly protecting my personal and family privacy and maintaining better boundaries!

I resolve to fight my creative resistance and also simultaneously honor my limits to avoid burn out and hating everyone and everything!

I will plan for the future totally present in every moment! The sage on the mountain is whacking me with her NOW enlightenment NOW broom NOW as I’m seeking financial advice and finally maybe probably not budgeting! Broom hitting does not make excel spreadsheets easier, sage.

I resolve to use fewer ambiguous Buddist references in my humor writing.

I shall secret success let go of outcomes!

I will give more save more spend less! But spend more on things that need taking care of, and be conscious organized with my giving instead of willy-nilly 25 bucks here and there. 25 bucks is the new 5 bucks so spend more there too. Really though, first make more to give more to spend more and spend less.

I promise to use less run-on sentences more free writing. More editing, less control. Less perfectionism, less typos. Less exhausting your reader more lifting them up and making them laugh. Whoops.

In closing, I resolve not to open an emo-cartoon etsy shop in 2016.  Of this resolution, I feel resolved. Consider this one less thing to like, share, support, buy, and humor. Happy New Year.

 

 

 

Step-family? I’ve got an entire staircase.

My step-family story is sponsored by the movie “Daddy’s Home” starring Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg, opening in theaters nationwide on Christmas Day.
***

Step-people–step-parents, step-grandparents, step-siblings, and step-kin–define my family. If assembled together for the world’s most awkward family photo, my step-family members would require a sprawling staircase. Not even counting the step-pets. Perhaps one of those inverted diagonal staircases that appear to lead upstairs and down, over and under simultaneously ala M.C. Escher would do the trick. Suffice it to say, my family tree required a forest of its own even before I married and added in-laws and progeny of my own.

Explaining my family constellation requires undivided attention and plenty of learning tools: Your parents split in 1979, okay. Your dad re-married a woman in 1981, got it. Your mom married his new wife’s ex-husband in 1984. Wait. WHAT?? And that only brings us to 1984. Even George Orwell couldn’t have predicted my family. Table condiments serve as handy learning tools, but simple ketchup, mustard, salt and pepper won’t suffice. For my parents alone, you’ll need to add sweetener packets and jelly pods, pickle relish and Sriracha. Who gets to play which condiment depends on the day, my mood, and the guilt I’m processing over whomever I’ve most recently neglected. When my own kids must fill out a family diagram, the entire page is filled and onto the reverse, before we even get to their father’s side. Thankfully his side is both small and in-tact. You can imagine the fun they had at our wedding; So you’re Ann’s…umm… Oh of course, her double-step-sister! I’ll let you consider double-step-sister for a minute, but it’s hard without the pickle relish and Sriracha.

I don’t have family picture albums, I have boxes of family picture albums. Sorting them gets very confusing. Who are you? How are we related? Wait, ARE we related? It takes that whole “first/second/third cousin, once/twice/forever-removed” story problem and turns it into step-sudoku calculus. Sudoku-calculus might not technically exist, but I’m pretty sure it’s the right mathematical platform for understanding how I ended up with a huge triangle in the middle of my family genogram. Growing up, my family had three different last names, and kids going back and forth from more than that many households. It was chaotic, yet highly-organized, and totally normal all at the same time.

The staircase continues expanding. I’m surrounded by an embarrassment of riches when it comes to family. Embarrassment and riches both, but mostly riches. My nuclear family of origin definitely went nuclear, but as the fallout continues, what remains is abundant love and endless fodder. Families are messy equations regardless of mapping, and If anyone loves to laugh about complicated family dynamics and the ridiculousness of it all, it’s us.

Daddy’s Home starring the inimitable Will Ferrell as a mild-mannered radio exec striving to excel in his new role of step-dad opens Christmas Day in theaters nationwide. Hijinx and ridiculousness ensue when Mark Wahlberg arrives on the scene as the ex husband and father. This trailer cracked all four of us up. No sriracha required.

 

Comment on this giveaway below with your own version of family crazy–everyone has one– for a chance to win a $50 gift card!

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Find out more via #DaddysHome social media:

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This blog post is part of a paid SocialMoms and Daddy’s Home blogging program. The opinions and ideas expressed here are my own. Please note that new FTC blogger guidelines recommend posting the disclosure clearly at the top and at the end of sponsored blog posts. Disclosure Guidelines: http://ftc.gov/os/2013/03/130312dotco...

“Have Yourself a Busy Little Breakdown” and More New Holiday Greetings

I’m feeling worn-out from the annual Merry Christmas vs. Happy Holidays salutation debacle. Typically, when greeted with Merry Christmas, I respond in kind, although it feels as natural to me as Elsa’s Frozen ponytail strapped to my head. Which is to say, it feels blond. However, responding Happy Holidays or Happy New Year or Happy Hanukkah’s Over when greeted with Merry Christmas seems a little passive aggressive. Therefore, and with great gaiety,  I give you the gift of new holiday greetings:

Buoyant exhaustion to you and yours!

Blithe and non-travel-interfering winter scene upon you!

 

May obligatory gift-giving shine favorably in your direction!

 

Lighthearted yet meaningful, spiritual yet non-religious non-denominational tidings!

 

Love and joy unto you, and to you, your lipids too!

 

A jocular non-egg-specific/vegan nog season, one and all!

 

Beatific mantle tidings for you and your social medias!

 

Have yourself a busy little breakdown!

 

Happy New full of the same presidential candidates year!

 

Joyeaux NoCarpool!

 

Feliz NaviDude!

 

and finally,

 

Seasons Money-Bleeding!

 

***

Wishing you and yours comfort, peace, health and contentment in 2016 (family photo by Anna Palmer of Jennifer Lee Photography)

 

Oh look, the perfect last minute easy-peasy gift for anyone on your list; Popsugar named it a Best Book of 2015!!

Feliz NaviDude and to all a good night.

 

 

Momojis, at last. Because parents need laughs and have no energy for texting lots of words.

My son got the dreaded stomach virus before Thanksgiving. When your kid is puking nonstop for 48 hours, you really don’t have the energy for communication beyond a few words.

So when my friend Robin texted me that morning to see what was new, this is what I texted her in return:

Enter Luvs’ new Momojis, and RIGHT on time. As a part of their Motherboard team of funny moms, I test-drove their new app (Live today! Free download on Apple appstore or Google Play) built specifically for busy moms and dads; giving us a quick, easy, and hilarious way to express the down and dirty moments of our day.

Or as I shared with Robin…

Robin and I might never have started blogging at all if we’d had these momojis at our fingertips when our kids were babies.  These Momojis say it all, and then some.

I remember poop exactly in that shade of blue in a diaper, no exaggeration. Blue raspberry in, blue raspberry out.  And thank goodness we finally have an emoji for nursing bra, nanny cam, and tricked out mini van! I think parents will find this GIF applies to children/spouses of all ages…

Parents, download these free Momojis and check out Luvs’ Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube–especially if you have kids in diapers. Luvs’ Momojis app will also feature “Promojis” for diaper deals on the go!

This post is sponsored by Luvs, as part of my ongoing work with Luvs Motherboard.

 

New wand needed.

This morning we finished the last Harry Potter book. I choked back tears while attempting to read the epilogue. I wept for the end of a brilliant saga, for the flawed lovable characters and their triumphs and losses. My shoulders shuddered over the all-too-relevant metaphors of Voldemort-supremacy, victimized populations, dark magic and for acts of compassion and valor in the face of terrifying realities.

I cried–while the kids watched my contorting face with puzzled curiosity, and listened as my voice became Kermit The Frog-ified– for the hubris and vulnerability of  elf, goblin, muggle, and wizard all, for the thousands of pages of my boys’ youth already turned, for the fleeting cozy read-aloud days in our home. I mourned the loss of my magic wand–my one reliable parenting skill and secret power. YOU GUYS. I was really good at those accents.

I need a new wand. This always comes as a surprise–when your reliable tricks cease to work effectively. A new wand requires practice. I might need to learn difficult spells, to encounter charms I don’t understand, to reconsider my own part in curses, and to encounter wizards unfamiliar to me. Perhaps I’ll taste the bitterness of a potion or two along the way, or encounter bully trolls; gate-keepers with Trump-hair.

As Bryan Stevenson writes at the close of a very different book I recently finished– his devastating and critically important Just Mercy: A Story of Justice and Redemption, “The work continues.”

And so, I intend to believe–in hope, in magic, and in peace– for my home and our world.

 

 

Surprise! My kids do not want to be my pen pals!

I planned on telling you about this great parenting idea I read about on the internet– to write 40 pages with each of my kids. I planned on adding my own genius in the form of this makes a perfect use of all those swag journals that you get at conferences! I planned on a new season of deepening relationships with my children that not only fostered our communication, but also their love of writing, while continuing a similar tradition that began with my dad and me.

Below please find what happens when you’re busy making conscious parenting plans…

 

Given the overwhelming response, of course I plan to write them back. And change my name to XBox1.

 

Some good news life hacks for your day!!

I don’t know if it’s too many damp rainy days in a row recently, my perfectionist brain going in too many directions, or the energy consumed by trying not to beg/steal my children’s Halloween candy that’s sapping my blogging. Regardless, my drafts file contains several one-paragraph posts I refuse to finish and share.

Meanwhile, the sun returned from her Netflix binge this week. I penned some good news life hacks to help us next time she decides to pull the dingy down comforter over her head, and eat all of the planets’ SweeTarts chews while watching documentaries about powerful aging females.

GOOD NEWS LIFE HACKS FOR YOUR DAY:

Wearing super cozy slippers makes your feet feel like swaddled babies. I bet you could even hide some under your desk at work and no one would know, unless they hear you singing Goodnight My Someone to them.

Next time you go to the store buy a jar of Giardiniera pickled vegetables and put them on your sandwich or salad. You will be even MORE excited for lunch time.

Breathe deeply along with this GIF (or, internet picture, as I like to call them). I love these!!! I wish my middle school voice teacher Theresa had given me this to look at to learn how to breathe, instead of making me feel her diaphragm. Theresa also made me change lyrics that weren’t godly enough, and when I quit her lessons told me she understood because I came from a broken home, bless her heart.

Worry less about the pressure to feel enough and/or happy (suffering is the human baseline, just ask Pema Chodron) and concern yourself more about if you’re leading the life you want to live. Are you using the gifts given to you? Can that be enough for today? CAN IT, ANN???

Add cinnamon or pumpkin pie spice to your coffee grounds before you brew, and maybe some half and half and honey or sugar and definitely whipped cream. Or do none of this and eat only the whipped cream.

As you sip your whipped-cream, read this article I wrote for Brava Magazine–Less Bra Fighting, More Bra Fitting–in which I coined the phrase “dodge-ball boobs.”

My sister and I started an imaginary STRIVING NO MORE club. You can join! All we have to do is stop trying so hard. Which is why this club has never officially launched.

Let yourself off the hook about that smoked-meat bacon sausage/cancer news. If you don’t know about it, don’t Google it. Proceed directly to that breathing GIF above.

Listen to Pandora Zen Garden station (and omg no this isn’t a sponsored post) while you work, for free! This calms me and does not distract me most of the time. Caution: side affects may include an intense and violent aggro-response depending on your musical taste/tolerance for spa muzak, and a jarring interruption FOR BOGO BOOTS AND SHOES FOR FALL  unless you pay for advertising-free Pandora.

Give your partner, kid, or pet a longer hug than usual. Turns out it gives you a serotonin spike, so I predict that researchers will soon consider hugging low-impact cardio. Especially if you’re fond of the sway-hug as I am. Caution: it kind of hurts the neck if you hang on someone, though. Hugs, not hangs.

And for my final good news life hack…

After 7 years on the internet, 93% of my life-time allotted feelings quotient has already been utilized, but watching this LTYM 2016 announcement video produced some real tears and dare I say warmth in my soul. You might enjoy it! Listen To Your Mother shows launch in 41 cities next year, even traipsing over our northern border into Vancouver, BC CANADA!!!

Enjoy any sunshine you can find today, friends. Or give up like the sun just did here in Madison, and go stream the Iris Apfel documentary instead.

 

 

The Middle School Columnist interviews me real quick during Sally Jesse

It’s me, your Middle School Columnist who started 6th grade. Big whoop I get to interview my future self for Language Arts. This is due tomorrow and I’d rather be perfecting my brand new personal style of handwriting which we are finally allowed to have in middle school, or watching Santa Barbara with ravishing Kelly and the Carnation Killer. So let’s get this over with.

First the Middle School Columnist will review the current events of her life. But first first– a secret! Did you sleuth that the v-neck Wisconsin shirt the Middle School Columnist wore today is actually a nightshirt?? And the matching red socks used to be my tights??  p.s. remember to put BOAT SHOES and NECK BROACH on your list of things you need that are definitely not wants but needs!!!! p.p.s do you know what comsi-comsa means and why that girl in homeroom is always constantly saying it? p.p.p.s. What is Lapidary club and if it means we stare at rocks after school did the teachers invent this as a joke etcetera etcetera etcetera?

Okay back to our interview.

Hi what’s your name? HAHAHAHAHA jkjkjk

Hi Middle School Columnist. My name is Ann Imig.

Imig? What is that.

That’s your married name.

Weird. No offense. Do you have beautiful daughters?

You have two sons. One recently began middle school just like you.

Are they cute? Do they have weird thumbs? Someone wanted to marry me?

Yes, a man you met– a drummer at a musical theater. The boys are super cute and neither of them have your thumbs.

Were you the lead? Wait. CAN YOU DRIVE? WHAT HAPPENS IN THE YEAR 2000? Did anyone open a time capsule? Was anything from me inside of it? How long did it take you to grow your hair out?

On New Year’s Eve 2000  we had fondue at home in Chicago where we lived for a while–

DID YOU KISS?

Probably.

DID YOU FRENCH?

Possibly.

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAGRODY. WHOA. Okay so you are like practically my parents age.

Well, now your parents are 73.

NO WAY. Do you push them around in wheelchairs?

Thankfully, no. They’re both very much the same but have white hair.

Freaky. Did I follow my stretching plans to finally get to the splits at least one way?

Never got to the splits. None of the ways.

Do we ever get a VCR? Cable? Do I ever get to go on a cruise?

I think you get a VCR and maybe even cable in high school. You take one horrible 3-day cruise your mom got with her new car when you’re 25.

I have to go now because Sally Jesse Raphael’s infinity talking is finally over. Oh wait, what were you when you grew up?

Right now I’m a writer and a producer and I run my own organization.

So you didn’t become a Broadway star?

No. But I do get to be on stage and speak to people and go on TV a bunch. I think you’ll really like it.

That’s cool. You should do your nails though. I’m going to see if our brother Dan ate all the good cookies and sorry but I have enough for my assignment now. Thank you Ann What’s-Your-Name.

Imig. Thank you, Middle School Columnist!