Whitney Gaskell: August 2007 Archives

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More Mommy Tracked

Calling all Book Clubs!

The Reading Group Guide for Mommy Tracked is available here. Check it out . . . it has lots of interesting questions for you to discuss while downing a few ~~bottles~~ glasses of wine.

Link | 28 August 2007 at 01:28 PM |

Release Day!

Mommy Tracked is now available at a store near you!

Read the book Publisher's Weekly praised, "as comfortable as fuzzy slippers and still as sharp as stilettos . . . a sparkling example of 'mom lit'"!

Link | 28 August 2007 at 07:44 AM |

Domestic Goddess

Between the recipes on epicurious, an obsession with Top Chef and a firm belief that every dish tastes better with Gorgonzola added to it, I've turned into a pretty good cook. I've even learned to bake a mean pie.

But cakes? Cakes are a different story. My cakes never turn out well. That is up until yesterday, when I finally achieved the impossible: I baked a damn fine cake.

I have to give props to the Barefoot Contessa (a name I love . . . why couldn't I be the Barefoot Contessa? The Barefoot Writer doesn't sound nearly as elegant). My success was entirely due to her delicious Lemon Cake recipe. If you like lemons, try this one . . . it's fabulous, and has gone a long way to rehabbing my cake baking reputation among the family.

My other well-known domestic failing is the care and feeding of plants. I am a plant killer. I try, I really do. I water, I fertilize, I provide sunlight. But despite my best efforts, all of my plants die. It's like I have the horticultural kiss of death.

But now . . . now I have finally succeeded. Behold my flower box:

It's green, it's lush, the flowers are blooming! It's -- dare I say it? -- thriving! I think this might be a miracle!

It turns out I am a Domestic Goddess. Who would ever have thought? Surely not my husband. As I frequently had to remind him back when we were first married, and he didn't yet know not to ask if I had plans to do the laundry or grocery shopping:

"You did not marry Susie Fucking Homemaker."

He now knows better than to ask if he has any clean socks. Much, much better.

So what a shock to find out that all along there was a Susie Fucking Homemaker lurking inside me, just waiting for her chance to shine.

Link | 27 August 2007 at 10:25 AM |

Mommy Tracked

Tomorrow is release day! And the great reviews for MOMMY TRACKED keep coming in.

My favorite so far is by Wacky Mommy, who writes, "It’s like reading a really juicy grown-up Judy Blume book!"

Now that is a rave review.

Link | 27 August 2007 at 08:07 AM |

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

The first day of school! And I was up bright and early, ready to nudge Sam out the door.

"But I don't want to go to school," he said plaintively.

"Sure you do," I said, shoving his sneakers on his feet and handing him his knapsack. "Hurry up, you don't want to be late!"

When I dropped him off for the first day of school last year, I cried, he cried, and we clung together until his teacher peeled him off me.

Now, knowing that the school day flies by and before I know it Sam will have boomeranged back home loudly demanding goldfish crackers and badgering me into letting him watch Playhouse Disney, our good-bye was much less dramatic. A quick kiss, a once over to make sure everything that was supposed to be tucked in was, and not a tear between us.

Progress, I think.

In other news, the release date for MOMMY TRACKED is only a week away, and the good reviews are continuing to pour in! Well. Maybe not pouring. But they are trickling in at a nice rate.

Link | 20 August 2007 at 09:30 AM |

Another MOMMY TRACKED Update

This just in: Publisher's Weekly has given Mommy Tracked a glowing review!

As comfortable as fuzzy slippers and still as sharp as stilettos, Gaskell's latest (after Testing Kate) celebrates motherhood, marriage and friendship with humor and vibrant insight. Four young Florida mothers help each other through trying times in this sparkling example of "mom lit."

Hooray!

Link | 06 August 2007 at 02:36 PM |

MOMMY TRACKED Update

The release date for Mommy Tracked is now only three weeks away (August 28th), and I’ve had all kinds of good news.

First, Target – love Target, love, love, LOVE – has selected Mommy Tracked for its Breakout Books program! Look for it on the Breakout Books endcap at your local Target starting September 2nd.

Also, Mommy Tracked is going to be an audio book! Since I happen to love audio books – I listen to them nonstop during the day, which drives George crazy, since he says it’s like living with a teenage girl who is addicted to her iPod – this is very, very exciting news for me. Please ask your local librarian to purchase a copy for their Books-on-CD collection!

Link | 06 August 2007 at 08:14 AM |

Halloween in the Heat

Although it seems all wrong and completely unseasonal -- like singing Christmas carols in July -- I've already started looking for a Halloween costume for Sam.

This is not as easy as you might think, so I have to start my search early.

The problem is that all of the boy costumes are designed for children who live up north, where the landscape already resembles the frozen tundra by late October. The boy costumes are all full-length, long-sleeved, and made out of fake fur. In Florida, it will still be hot -- very hot -- on Halloween. If I send my child off to school dressed in head to toe fake fur, he'll end up suffering a heat stroke by lunch time.

I think it's easier for girls. With all of the various princess costumes, you can totally get away with outfitting your daughter in little more than a bikini and a few yards of tulle netting.

Anyway. I finally settled on this dinosaur costume:

A boy who is not Sam models the dino costume

It's cute, Sam likes it, and he can wear a t-shirt and shorts under it. And I think he'll enjoy roaring periodically.

I have to admit: I'm having some Bad Mom guilt over purchasing his costume, instead of whipping one up on the sewing machine. First, there's the not-so-small problem that although I do own a sewing machine, I don't know how to use it. I'm not even sure where it is. And I'm not a particularly crafty person. Every time I use a glue gun, I just end up burning my fingers. And then there's the time issue (i.e., I don't have any).

All of which means that if I did try to make Sam's costume, it would be a complete and total failure, and in a pathetic, last ditch effort, I'd have to throw a sheet with two eye-holes cut in it over Sam, and inform him that he's now a ghost. And then I'd just have to go buy new sheets to replace the set I'd cut up.

So it seems much more sensible to purchase Sam a costume he'll like, and then live with the working-mom-slash-materialistic-parenting guilt.

Link | 05 August 2007 at 09:36 AM |

Breaking the Law and Going to Hell

Every lawyer (or in my case, ex-lawyer) comes to the day when they realize that the profession has warped their sense of right and wrong.

For some, it arrives when don’t even feel even a smidgen of guilt as they help themselves to their client’s trust account as if it is their own personal piggy bank. For others, it comes when they’re scribbling out their time sheets, and inflating their billables by ten or, more likely, ninety percent.

For me, it came yesterday, when I found myself blithely telling our teenage babysitter how, if she’s ever pulled over by the cops under suspicion of drunk driving, to circumvent the field sobriety tests. This is the only truly valuable piece of information I have retained from law school, and I’m always eager to pass it on.

But then it suddenly occurred to me – maybe it was the way our babysitter’s eyes had widened with shock, or maybe it was that I’d suddenly become aware of the warm heft of my small child snuggled up in my arms – that this wasn’t, perhaps, the most appropriate conversation I’ve ever launched into.

“Er . . . sorry about that. I guess I veered off of the whole responsible adult line there for a minute,” I said apologetically. “What I meant to say was: never drink! You, too, Sam,” I added sternly. “Alcohol is bad!”

Yeah, I’m pretty much going straight to hell, aren’t I?

The whole conversation came about because I happened to be pulled over by a police officer yesterday. Now, I’m a fairly responsible member of society. I certainly don’t participate in criminal activity. But for some reason, every time I’m pulled over, I suddenly feel shifty and guilty.

This time, as it turned out, I was guilty. Not of one transgression, but three. Somehow – and I have to say, I do blame George for this (this may sound sexist, but I consider cars to fall under his umbrella of responsibility, along with mowing the grass, pest control and taking out the garbage) – I was driving around with (1) expired tags, (2) expired registration, and (3) an expired insurance card.

“I have grounds to arrest you,” the cop explained nicely. “I’m not going to, but I could.”

“Gah!” I said, or something similarly articulate.

The police officer very kindly let me off with a warning. I have a feeling this probably had more to do with the contents of my minivan – i.e. one tired and cranky preschooler, a bag full of wet bathing suits and towels that were giving off the strong stench of chlorine, and one hysterical pug who has issues with men wearing uniforms, and so was doing her best to throw herself out the window at the police officer while screeching uncontrollably – than his charitable nature. I’m guessing he was not keen on taking charge of this motley crew.

But for whatever reason, he let me off, for which I am very grateful. And this morning, I’m off to register my car, and rejoin the ranks of responsible society.

Link | 01 August 2007 at 07:57 AM |