I don’t have the comments section open for any of my blog posts.  Mostly because I was getting tired of having Cialis ads and offers for celebrity videos I’d rather never see show up in what is pretty much a PG-13 mommy blog. OK, maybe it gets an R rating on some rare days.

It’s my fault for not giving everyone with very strong opinions of my television and radio appearances in addition to my not so frequent mommy blog posts an outlet to where they can express their feelings which are more like complaints.  So now I’m subjected to receiving all of those feelings in my email inbox.  Here are a few:

Why don’t you talk about me on your blog? (Because you’d want me to edit out half of our conversations so _____ doesn’t know what you are saying.. its better left unmentioned entirely.)

Why’d you tell the world Lukie eats twigs?  (It was a joke Mom! And why are you reading my blog. Aren’t you busy enough during the day? If not, Natalie can come over and keep you on your toes today.)

What would possess you to wear that ugly slime green shirt on tv?  (It was a Halloween segment. Get over it. I wasn’t talking about macroeconomics or interviewing the president.)

Why don’t you post to your blog everyday? (Because you would be subjected to hearing about me rolling out of bed, eating Basic 4, drinking water with True Lemon, tossing clothing on my bed to find … I think you get the idea. Not much happens of interest everyday.)

That product you showed today is sold out on their website! I wanted one! (Yeah, sorry about that. That sometimes happens with products I show. Some websites do not have a huge inventory of the products I feature in my television segments and have a waiting period because of the amount of viewers who rush to buy the products.  Next time, remember, the early bird gets the worm so chop chop!!)

Next time wear a shirt that doesn’t show your breasts. (Um.. whoa there. Definitely confusing me with someone else.  Glad to see you had a huge amount of time to email me advice about my wardrobe choices but I can assure you no one would have let me on air if what I was wearing was about to make the segment end up on You Tube.  I’m a mom. I have responsibilities and morals.  Not planning on embarrassing myself or my children.  And if something happened accidentally, I would have been known.)

Why don’t you wear your hair differently? Is it because it’s a weave? (My hair isn’t a weave. I’ve worn it with a part in the middle since high school. I’m boring.  It grows.  I occasionally cut it.  Sometimes the hair stylist yells at me and tells me I have split ends and then makes me trim it.)

I wake up this morning and now I have to wait back for an answer which could take days, weeks or months to arrive.  Well, that’s like any email but this one is extra special because its being sent on my behalf to a musician I need permission from in order to use a song on my tiny little project. 

And its not a defeatest attitude talking but I’m sure that song is tied up in some exclusive agreement and can’t be used anywhere else so I’m honestly expecting a NO  response. But in case I do receive a YES response it would be a very pleasant surprise.

Right now I’m just “Wishin’ and hopin’ and Thinkin’ and prayin’, Plannin’ and dreamin’…” (And no the musician isn’t ani difranco.  Somehow I don’t think Untouchable Face would go well with the project I’m working on. lol)

with the back of my son’s neck. And the way the little dirty blonde curls perfectly sit back there – one next to the other – but then the rest of the hair on his head suffers from a chronic case of “mommy please give me a daily hair cut”.  Yum.

with the way my daughter says “pleeeeeease” and then smiles because she knows I’ll say yes even if she’s opened the bathroom door three times during my almost 20 seconds of daily solitude (or so I thought) to ask if she could do an art project with me today.

with the fact I found out the only existing piece of spoken word I had actually had a living sibling. Both vastly differently, I can now say, I didn’t throw out my entire award winning writing from my adolescence because I was moving out on my own.  Two pieces still exist. They do! They do!  One of which is going to be submitted to the Cringe book.

with the reservation my mother and I have every week for tea at the same table where we have the same passionate conversation as the week prior.

with the thought I had privately had last year about making 2007 my year.  Something I didn’t mention to anyone. And then four people I know declared 2007 would be my year.

with the varied programming shown when I press list on my TiVo.  I’m not ashamed to have Monk, Psych, House, Take Home Chef, Flip This House, Gilmore Girls, Grey’s Anatomy, Men in Trees, Ugly Betty and The Tonight Show in my line up.  Even if most of them are only watched between the hours of 2 and 6 AM.

with my friends who share the same distaste for condiments or love for avocados, the ones who actually try my home remedies (told you it would work!) and listen to the career advice I give them.

Today… I am definitely in love.

And for those of you who still haven’t made plans for tonight here are two “only in New York” (say it as you shake your head like you are confused…) ideas of how to spend your Valentine’s Day night.

White Castle rolls out the red table cloths and requires reservations tonight and the City of New York hands out free condoms (at all Kenneth Cole locations) with the subway signs on them to promote safe sex tonight.  Thankfully they went the route of using train numbers and letters because I really didn’t want to know if anyone could see read a condom map all the way from Pelham Bay Park to City Hall.