Peace, Out

Suitcases packed. Check.
Snacks packed. Check
More snacks packed in secret places. Check
DVD player charged. Check
Book tucked in carry-on bag. Check. (Insert wild laughter here, as if I have any chance of reading even a chapter)
Extra-Strength Tylenol packed for anticipated hangover and mama meltdown. Check
Mr. Brown Doggie & Nodders (Zack's new self-named stuffed kangaroo toy) in car. Check.
Ninety-Nine-Ten (Evan's self-named stuffed kangaroo toy, and no I am not making it up) in car. Check.
Dog sitter arranged. Check.
Prayer said for good weather. Check
Arrangements made to see as many friends and family as possible in four short days. Check.

Guess we are out of here! See you all next week!

What Not To Wear : Toddlers & Preschoolers

What Not to Wear for Preschoolers and Toddlers

With Special Guest Stylists Zachary & Evan Kargas

At School & On The Playground

Zachary's Advice: If it is on sale at Target, do not get it. You will walk into Preschool thinking you are wearing edgy dump truck apparel, only to see five of your cohorts sporting the exact same outfit. Embarrassing! Go for the more obscure, hunt in high-end consignment shops where you can find retro cool items.

Evan's Advice: Elmo is so last year. Only first kid's wear those. If your a second, or a third, you grow up faster and you know better. Skip right to spiderman or spongebob, and kids will know that you have been around the block. Suddenly the babies on the playground are looking up to you.

Zachary's Advice: The more holes in your jeans the better. Same goes with stains.

Evan's Advice: If you are still in diapers, be sure to wear a higher rise pant and a longer shirt, nobody wants the embarrassing outfit malfunction, and a diaper hanging out the tops of one's pants screams low-class.

To a Special Occasion

Zachary's Advice: No doubt mom is going to try and squeeze you into a matchy-matchy outfit from Gymboree, probably one with the tags freshly clipped out of the collar. Whatever you do, do not oblige. Unless you want to look like a lamb blindly following the herd. You want to show your unique personality and style. I for instance always search for the T-Shirts that my mom has shoved into the very back of my dresser drawers. The ones in bright colors with phrases like "Here Comes Trouble!" or "I didn't do it!" in bold face across the front. I try and match them with a contrasting color or pattern to really show some flare.

Evan's Advice: Wear Spiderman or Spongebob.

For a Casual Play Date:

Zachary: I want to put my guest at ease, to let him know that he can make himself at home, therefor I like to strip down to my underwear, you know keep it real.

Evan: Wear Spiderman or Spongebob.

So there you have it kids, advice to live by.

As a side note, the Kargas Family is packing up and heading for a vacation to Denver, so I will more than likely be absent from the world of blog for about a week. But I promise to be back with amusing (at my expense) tails of our adventure.

Winner of Gabby Goo Earrings Announced!

Yikes! I realize I was suppose to announce this yesterday, but in all my patriotic joy, I guess I forgot.

So this morning, once again my trusted helper Zachary selected a name out of a hat. If I ever get more entries I will have to resort to a more sophisticated and efficient method, but for now this works just fine.

So the lucky winner is Marlin! Marlin please email me ASAP with you name and address so I can send you the birdie earrings. You have until June 7, and then I will be drawing another winner.

For all the rest of you thanks for playing, and one more plug for Gabby Goo. Check them out on line! Beautiful earrings, great baby trinkets and very affordable!

Happy 4th of July!

Nothing to say, but happy 4th of July from the Kargas family! We had a great day at a local festival. Zack and Evan both rode ponies. Zack took third place in a watermelon eating contest, although, honestly it was because the judge was sleeping, he should have won the whole thing, the boy has a future in competitive eating. (Reach for the stars son, and you never know what you may achieve). Zack also rode a mechanical bull and Evan had a meltdown in the bounce house. Friends joined us for bar-b-q and we sat in the backyard trying to pretend it was warm enough for tank-tops. We topped off the day by watching Toy Story Two. All and all one of those days that makes you realize how good you have it.

Dear (Midwestern) Reader, I apologize.

I am sorry. There I said it. I apologize to Wisconsin and Minnesota and the entire Midwest. My last post was too harsh, and I meant not to offend, well not entirely anyway.

These points I stick with:

1. Your winters for lack of a more elegant word, SUCK.
2. I hate football, so therefor I could not care less about the Packers, and I will never understand the die hard fans wearing yellow foam blocks of cheese on their heads in 18 degree weather, but to each their own.
3. Vilas Zoo isn't all that great.

These points I need to clarify:

1. When I declared that I was living in a sea of reserved blonds, it sounded like much more of an insult than I intended it to. Ahh, the power of words. As one of my very best friends pointed out she is "reserved" and blond (and by the way she one of the most beautiful head's of hair I have seen in my life). It wasn't meant as an insult, more an observation of differing cultures. I am a loud, emotional, center-of-attention kind of girl, and I believe that it is in, part cultural. There seem to be fewer people "like me" in the Midwest.
2. There are many things to love about both Madison and Minneapolis, and I will always be happy that I had the experience of living there.
3. I am just happy not to be living there anymore.

P.S. In my original post I forgot to mention one thing that I do not miss about those sticky summers, and my piece would not be complete without noting the mosquitoes. The mosquito bites all over your body. Itching. The stinky smell of OFF. Itching. Need I say more?

Oh, but back to my apology. Madison, Minneapolis, all of my readers who happen to be self-described "Cheese Heads", I hold a dear place in my heart for you. I like cheese. I like cheese curds. I like lakes and the sounds of crickets at night. I like nice people. I am not ashamed that I was born in Wisconsin. I am proud of my Midwestern roots, and if I offended you, I sincerely hope you will forgive me. Or at least keep reading my blog.

Love,

Rachel

My Hometown

I was born a Midwesterner, however this never really resonated with me. Although I lived in Madison Wisconsin, my parents were former New Yorkers and I never felt that I really fit in with the farming heritage and the cheesehead mentality. I moved away after college graduation, with my boyfriend (and future husband) to his hometown, Minneapolis MN, which really was more of the same on a grander scale. A sea of reserved blonds who had never seen a Menorah before. After several years we moved west.

I have not returned to Madison or Minneapolis in three years. Most times I do not miss it. Those bitter cold winters that would freeze the inside of my nose and leave my fingers numb. The summers so hot and thick with humidity it seemed pointless to shower. I have few friends still living in Madison, and although my mother and stepfather are still residents they visit us with great frequency, so there is little need for us to return to the dairy state.

But every now and then I get a little twinge of homesickness.

In the dry, brown summers of Denver I sometimes got nostalgic for the thunderstorms of my youth. Those dark ominous clouds, they sky swollen with moister. A startling clap of thunder would burst those clouds like a pin popping a balloon, and a welcome down pouring of rain would drench the streets leaving behind puddles and the relief of temporary cool. The landscape a lush green and the gardens full of color, I missed this in the heart of the desert Colorado summer.

And I know I need to go back. My children should see where I grew up. I should show them the steps of Science Hall where their father and I made our arrangements for our very first date. I should take them to feed the ducks at lake Mendota and eat ice cream on the union terrace. We could go to the Vilas Zoo, the site of our annual grade school field trips, though unimpressive in comparison to the zoos they have already experienced. They should see the house where I grew up.

And yet I know that so much of this city has changed. The iconic Paisans where I went regularly with my parents and the dorms where David and I lived have since been demolished. The restaurants and bars along State Street have turned over multiple times since I last frequented them. Truth be told I would be a tourist in my own hometown. And I don't think it would feel like home anymore.

Who knows where home is, in an age where people move around so easily. We have lived in Madison, Minneapolis, Denver and now Berkeley. At this moment Denver still seems the most familiar and we are in fact heading back for a brief, but much needed visit next week.

That said, Madison will always be a part of me. The place where I was born. My official "hometown", cheesehead or not. I need to go back, if only to remind myself where I came from.

My blogging mid-life crisis

I have been at this blog thing for nearly a year now, and I think I am going through a blogger identity crisis. Who am I?

A hilarious witty "humorist" ala Ann's Rants? (By the way, not a joke, I am funny-right?)

A thought provoking aspiring writer baring her mama soul for all the world? (Perhaps that is stretching it an itty-bitty-bit.)

A busy chick with a fun little hobby, who need not give spelling or grammar a second thought, after all, it's just for fun...

A competitive, attention seeking whore can't understand why that horrific blog about sock puppets and vegan recipes has 683 followers and I am still only in the double digits?

Perhaps I am all of the above, which is reflected in the pages of getrealmama. I just haven't yet figured it out. I started writing because I wanted a hobby. At first I gave little thought to the fact that I had only 4 followers, but like anything, over time it has evolved.

Like many people I wanted my talents to be admired. An athlete for example, may participate in races and then post their results on Facebook, a knitter creates scarves and sweaters that will be worn or gifted, and an artist will produce paintings they may then show off on the walls of their home or in galleries. I guess there is a part of me that wants to do something that will be noticed. Something that will be praised.

And so I have wondered how to boost my readership. I have joined networking groups and started to grow my numbers. But I have learned that it is all a bit of a game. "Follow me & I'll follow you". One has to spend a great deal of time writing to other bloggers and clicking "follow" on random sites in order to receive the return favor from another traffic seeking blogger who likely has no expectation of ever returning to your site. You can achieve big numbers this way, but for what purpose? There are writers who hope to get enough traffic to attract marketers and sponsors. But that isn't me. I really cannot fathom the idea of reviewing vitamin juice and diaper cream. So why do I care so much?

I don't know. Does there have to be an answer?

So on I blog. One day a little comedian (remember you are laughing), another day a philosophising parent, pondering the meaning of life. Either way, I hope that those of you who do read this blog on a regular basis enjoy, and as always your feedback in welcomed.