What Fell Friday

Everyone who is anyone knows that the Matron suffers from a case of Incurable Clutter Brain Suck.

This means that if her environs are messy and disorganized, her brain is too. She simply cannot function. Clutter and clump make her crabby and disoriented. Definitely not in the mood for love.

Last week, she started her own Matronly tradition with What Fell Friday,wherein she chronicles the journeys of three items that happened to fall upon the floor. This is one of those items, first spotted on September 4.

This item is now -- GONE! The piece of paper journeyed right up into the vacuum cleaner. Why? Because Incurable Clutter Brain Suck so completely enveloped the shaking Matron, that she accidentally vacuumed up this paper in the course of her regular cleaning.

Note: the Matron + Vacuum + Regular Cleaning. Not anybody else.

The other two items have not had that much excitement. They remain where they've been since September 4. The Coke Zero is taking refuge underneath the living room radiator.

How can an empty soda can go unnoticed in the LIVING ROOM for over two weeks?! Someone walks by that can every 20 minutes. And the barrette, below? Secure. Sitting tight. Indeed the Matron herself is going nowhere near that barrette nestled outside the basement bathroom because THE MOLES ARE BACK!

Yes! The Matron is sharing her pristine environs with wild life! Again, completely unacceptable! Four days ago while the Matron was getting a dog leash, one of those little creatures swept just inches from her tender toe! She herself experienced its glinting eye and scurvy spine. Ugh!

Did you hear her scream!?

She also is taking this opportunity to tell her husband that she's now having an affair with a pickle salesman. As long as these items remain on the floor untouched and the moles go on repopulating, she knows he's not reading her blog.

Unforgivable, all.

Deft Parenting

The Matron has made a well-informed, philosophically sound decision based out of total panic. She is going to decide whether or not to give her children H1N1 vaccines based on her facebook comments.

You may read that again for clarification: she will be making life and death decisions regarding her children's health based on her facebook comments.

Go ahead -- friend her in either the newly created Minnesota Matron account or locate her real life persona and tell her what to do!

You see, the Matron has absolutely no idea who to believe, the well-informed, research-armed opposition to flu vaccines or the well-informed, research-armed advocates. The Matron is a big believer in science and hard cold facts; yet, she also knows that knowledge that challenges or threatens to unseat Power (power in this case Medicine and its Official Recommendation) is often strategically discredited, disregarded or otherwise eliminated.

Michehl Foucault 101

Everywhere she turns, information is Suspect! No, she would not, as one dear friend pointed out, like to return to the day of the pre-smallpox vaccine or to experience polio. Her children are immunized and up-to-date in that regard, as well.

But another friend, a nurse, posits that the reason this flu is hardest on children is that their little bodies have been vaccinated into pristine territory: they haven't fought off any big guns and their natural, immune-syste, virus-fighting arsenal? Undeveloped.

Considering, the Matron is currently encouraging dirt-eating and outdoor play of all sort, hoping to give her three a last minute boost of the germ=combat game so they're prepared when the real bug hits them.

Herd mentality sounds pretty soothing at this point. Whichever way the wind flows on facebook -- vaccinate or not--she'll follow.

Makes you sorta wonder what other ingenious parenting strategies she has for you to emulate.

Yesterday, Stage Mother tip-toed out onto the ledge that is the land of television commercial. She dutifully showed up 20 minutes early for Scarlett's half hour 'stylist' appointment downtown Minneapolis.

The office space was everything you might imagine: skylights, gleaming wood, expensive furniture, organic muffins, wi-fi for guests. Toss in bunches of super creative people, bearing bunches of super adorable clothing, who folded her daughter in as one of their own.

For over two hours.

That half hour spent, it turns out there wasn't time for the Matron to return home in between the stylist appointment and the first half of the commercial shoot; so she and her daughter had a lovely mother-daughter luncheon during which the conversation went like this:

Scarlett: "Why isn't there wi-fi in this restaurant so I can check my email?"

They ended up both reading books. Some days are just like that.

Next came the rush hour traffic snail's pace thread to Taylor's Falls, a good forty miles away. Remember how that half hour turned into two? Sorta like the scenic drive.

Then the director asked Scarlett is she was afraid of heights. Nope.



Wait! Nobody is asking the Matron this question! Here she is, trailing the pack with sandals and her laptop. Excuse her! The Matron is VERY much afraid of heights, yes indeedy. So fearful is she that it's all she can do to keep her eyes open while driving across bridges.

Turns out that this commercial was to be shot ENTIRELY ON TOP OF A GIANT DEATH CLIFF.


See that little orange dot with arms outstretched? This is Scarlett, two feet away from her potential death. You can't tell by this picture but this is HIGH. The Matron couldn't get any closer because she was afraid her loud gasps and 'TAKE A STEP BACK HONEYs" might be distracting.

This little jaunt stretched on for hours. The Matron pried upon the occasional eyelid to peek at her daughter, but mostly -- out there in the staggering presence of one of her state's most beautiful scenic spots--- worked on her laptop.

Producer to Matron: "You getting wi-fi?"

Matron: "I tried. Nothing."

They both sighed over such an unreasonable state.

Anyway, the Matron's half hour appointment and couple of hours outstate turned into a 9 hour day for which she was entirely unprepared. Imagine the difference a day makes. This morning, knowing full well what she was getting into, the packed the van for a cross-country road trip: lunch, water, extra contacts, glasses, antibiotics, laptop and charger, notebook - you name it.

Good thing. This day's schedule: 10 am until 7:00 pm.

Due to details of plot and design, Scarlett spent most of the morning - oh about four hours -- walking on a treadmill. Whenever the treadmill stopped, the make-up person dabbed face and tidied hair. Then there was about two hours of "Do you wanna go camping Daddy?!" Commercials are entirely repetition.

Scarlett on break: "Mom isn't this FUN! Everybody is so NICE! Can I do ANOTHER?"

During this great big party, the Matron was promptly directed toward the basement, the place where they store parents. This is the carpeted, bathroomed sort of basement that wasn't bad - except there's no wi-fi. So honest to God-Buddha-Allah-Oprah-Universe, she is composing this post in the van, where she spent 90% of her day grateful for BingSel2's unsecured wireless network. Thanks, Bing.

The insane part? Really because the whole rest of the last two days have been so boring? After two nine hour days of shooting this commercial, Scarlett also has an 8 pm theater audition.

Matron: "Are you sure you want to go? I think you're awfully tired? You walked on that treadmill for like five hours."

Scarlett: "MOM!!! I'VE WAITED ALL YEAR TO BE IN THIS SHOW!"

Who will have the more substantive mental breakdown? The over-taxed underpaid (hey wait she's not getting a dime for this) Matron if they DO go to the audition or the completely obsessed and single-minded Scarlett if they DON'T go to the audition.

God-Buddha-Oprah-Allah-Universe help her. It is September. Scarlett has shows booked through March--and is still trying to squeeze more in.

The breakdown belongs to the Matron, hands down.

Stage Mother

Flesh eating bacteria has NOT felled the Matron. Her arm is getting better and better. Blame her absence on the daughter: the Matron is spending two days on the set of a commercial shoot. This involves out door trekking and cliffs. And riding in a van with the crew. . . and needing a bathroom. Talking to the dreaded Other Parent.

The Matron herself is never ever the dreaded Other Parent.

She wishes she could abandon Scarlett and not accompany her to the shooting location, conveniently located forty miles out in the middle of the always alarming nature. But if she did this, Scarlett would probably be abducted by aliens or otherwise exploited, and then the newspapers and blogosphere would be all 'what a loser slacker mother.' That's why she's going -- reputation.

Full update tonight, after another audition.

Oh, the commercial? Explore Minnesota - the state department of tourism desperately trying to convince you that anywhere OUTSIDE in Minnesota is fun.

Don't believe them.