Preparing for the Release of My Novel: The Life of a FICTIONAL Mom Blogger

As the Picket Fence Post family girds itself for the release this month of my novel about an oversharing blogger who gets into big trouble when her previously anonymous blogging identity is revealed and her family goes ballistic after discovering what she's been writing online, I feel compelled to state the obvious. For the record. (Imagine that I'm holding a bullhorn to my face as I say this):

My novel, Mortified: A Novel About Oversharing, is a work of fiction. Sure, it may feature a blogger who's a mom. I'm a blogger who's also a mom. The main character, Maggie Kelly, may live in suburb in the greater Boston area. I live in a suburb in the greater Boston area. But . . . I am not Maggie and Maggie -- who blogs in a raw, profanity-laden, no-holes-barred, slash-and-burn fashion -- is not me. Clearly. But I will cop to dropping curse words a little too often, as Maggie is wont to do.

The other main character, Maggie's husband Michael, is not The Spouse, although, like Michael, there was a time when my husband's job required him to attend evening meetings when our children were young. The schedule was a demanding one to maintain. Then again, having three children within three years of one another is difficult in and of itself. The columns in my first book, A Suburban Mom: Notes from the Asylum (available on Kindle!), along with my Boston Mommy Blog, are full of tales from those challenging, highly caffeinated years.

However, once Mortified is published on May 12 (Amazon link here), I'm guessing I'm going to be issuing this disclaimer quite a bit, particularly to certain people. (I'm talking to you Mom.)

How will the twin 14-year-olds and the 11-year-old react to all of this curiosity? Hopefully with the same nonchalance they treat most things involving their parents these days, unless it involves driving them someplace or handing out fistfuls of cash.

Parenting Confessions: What are Some of Yours?

Did you happen to catch the news about this new Today Show/Parenting Magazine survey of 26,000 mothers which asked them to ‘fess up about their maternal secrets? If not, here’s a glimpse of some of the results of their poll:

-- Almost one in five said she medicated her child “to get through a special event like a plane flight; one in 12 does it just to get some peace and quiet on a regular night."

-- Half have sent a kid to school or daycare even if they knew the child was sick.

-- 44 percent said they’d “rather be 15 pounds thinner than add 15 points to their child’s IQ.”

-- “One in 10 wishes their child was the opposite sex – and of those moms, 60 percent have boys.”

This got me to thinking about my own parenting secrets . . . those I’m willing to share publically anyway:

-- I’ll cop to uttering profanity here and there. And when the kids call me on my potty mouth, I apologize for behaving badly and then tell them that swearing is an adult privilege so they can suck it. Kidding . . . about that last "suck it" part.

-- I sometimes hide food that I don’t want the kids to gobble up like seagulls – the good, junky stuff like Pringles or cookies or barbecue potato chips – on the top shelf of the pantry near the back where they can’t see it or reach it. I've also hidden candy in my desk in my office without sharing it with anyone.

-- Also along the lines of food, when I’m in the car alone, I will occasionally stop and buy myself an order of fast food fries . . . then I stuff the evidence (the bag and the cardboard container) into the trash can in the garage.

-- I do not enjoy watching hour-long youth hockey practices (not that I'm going to tell The Youngest Boy or the other hockey parents this), so once The Youngest Boy's suited up and on the ice (it's impractical for me to drive home and back again), I go out to my car and read a book or catch up on my e-mail, either that, or I go get myself a cup of coffee.

-- On Saturday mornings when we’ve got a slate of soccer games in far flung towns to attend, I lie in bed and pray that it has started raining so the games will be canceled and I can go back to sleep. If it does happen to be raining but the games are not canceled, I start up with that whole potty mouth thing.

-- Sometimes when the kids break stuff around the house, I tell them not to tell their father and that we’ll keep it as “our little secret.” Seriously, it’s better for everyone that way.

-- I sometimes sneak away from everybody, as a kind of  timeout for myself. I retreat to my room without telling anybody and proceed to read a book or turn on the news, a Seinfeld repeat or some crappy movie I've seen a dozen times.

-- The Spouse and I liberally pilfer from the kids' Easter and Halloween candy stashes at night after the kids are in bed. And thus far, they haven't noticed.
So, got any parenting secrets you’d like to share with the class?