Happy New Year world!

I'm trying to imagine what I would do to the psychic who would have told me the craziness that 2004 would hold. And all of it spilled onto a blog for the universe to see?

Would I have smacked the psychic upside the head or just hidden under the bed? Maybe taken a weed whacker to something hard and shiny?

Nah.

I'm full of shit to complain. Because I wouldn't have missed the dance for anything. I'm blessed to have had the time - it's more than I had any right to expect. I pray that there is more to come and more to live and more to share.

In the meantime, thank you for the dance so far.

Drive safe tonight, remember to kiss your designated driver all over, and see you in 2005.

Peace on Earth, God's blessings to all.

Scandanvian New Year's Eve Chant:

Let those who want to, arrive.

Let those who want to, leave.

Let those who want to, stay.

Without harm to me or mine.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 04:25 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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Where IS the Corporate Mommy these days? Knee-deep in the BOB Awards. My super-secret work for Mr. "We're having a baby!" and his partner-in-Bobdom, Jay.

Also? In my home. This year, CD brought many of his Scandanavian traditions to life. We had traditional dinners, and gifts from elves, Advent candles, language lessons.

I've been reminded that our world has so many ways to celebrate this time of year - some as ancient as the land, others created in our lifetime. All meant to bring people together, joined with the spirits of goodwill and peace.

The darkness weakens.
The sun rises higher,
The frozen ground rejoices.
God grant you a Merry Yule,
And happy winter hours.
-Scandanavian Blessing

Posted by: Elizabeth at 05:55 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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How was your Christmas?

I asked you first.

How was your Christmas?

It was fine. It was good. Bear got a little overwhelmed. CD and I seem to have found a temporary peace. Roast came out fabulous. Nice.

Really?

Really. I think.

Temporary Peace?

Yeah, but I can't talk about it.

Can't, won't....?

He asked that I respect his privacy.... better. But no, nothing fundemental has changed. I think I can say that. It's fine. Really.

Really?

Yes. I got a new winter coat. Blue.

Blue's good.

Yeah.

Doing anything for New Year's?

Do I ever?

Good point.

But Happy New Year's anyway. Rock on. Healthy and happy 2005.....

You too. Wait -

Yes?

"Sing Goldfish....?"

A friend gave me some home-made refrigerator magnets for Christmas. All sorts of words that have meaning to her. I did that thing, where you pull out a handful from the bag and see your fortune...

And you pulled out?

Sing. Goldfish. Incredulous. Relationship.

Wow.

Yeah.

Any idea....?

Not a clue.

Well, you know... Buddha sat in front of a wall and was enlightened.

You're comparing the magnets to Buddha?

No. The wall.

Wow.

Deep, huh?

Not really. Talk to you later?

Sure.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 07:30 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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A couple of years ago, my former boss, Reed, assigned me this program. This thing was so high-profile, and complicated, and HARD. I was in over my head.

To top it all off, one of the senior guys on my team delighted in doing the opposite of whatever I asked him to do. Because of him, I started each day with the breakfast of champions: 3 Tylenol and a cup of antacid.

Before that Christmas, I called a teleconference with this guy, Reed and myself. To call this guy on the carpet and demand a commitment that he change his behavior.

After the call, Reed asked me why I'd done that. Reed said that that I'd had no reason to embaress the man in front of his boss's boss.

I felt immediately ashamed.

What's really wrong? Reed asked me.

What's wrong? I repeated, near tears. What isn't wrong?

I gave him my litany - my first program with an 8-figure budget, incompetant vendors shipping product to the wrong locations, resources that were staging a slow-down because of layoff fears, yada yada yada....

Reed listened kindly and said And?

And? And What?

Nothing you haven't handled before. If on a smaller scale. So tell me, what's the real problem here?

Oh.

He spent about an hour then, chatting with me, until I realized what I was doing wrong and how to fix it. And never once did he tell me what to do.

You know, I worked for the Church for years. But it was Reed - a former soldier - who taught me some important lessons that I try and bring back to the center of my life each Christmas:

1) Don't judge a person by their worst trait or their worst day

2) Remember that a person's dignity is sacred. Do nothing to violate it.

3) Your problem with someone else is almost always that: your problem. Not theirs.

4) Everyone is carrying their own solutions with them. The most effective way to help someone out in the dark is not to push them where you think they should go. It is, instead, to become a flashlight for them to use in discovering their own way out.

5) Forgive. Especially yourself.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 04:52 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 I hope you have a Happy Holiday season, Elizabeth

Posted by: Eyes for Lies at December 27, 2004 06:08 AM (QhI+Z)

2 Thank you for these words of wisdom. I hope Reed is alive ,well and prospering. I hope Christmas was wonderful and that all of you are doing well. Hugs!!!

Posted by: Azalea at December 27, 2004 06:55 AM (hRxUm)

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A long time ago: He stood next to me in the rain. We looked up at the window of his ex-girlfriend's apartment.

He said to me: I would die for her.

I said to him: That's the problem.

I thought about all their fights - over the daily chores, the grind that she'd wanted him to share. He had been writing epic poems to her while she cleaned up around him. He'd pledged his sword to her beauty; she'd snorted and asked he pledge something more meaningful. Like a mop.

It was 15 years ago maybe and I remember his eyes. He stared at her window. I looked at him, and I said: She wants you to live for her. Share life with her, dude.

And now: Don't get me wrong. I am charmed by the gestures, the flowers CD brought me every Friday for years. I get squishy for the sweet text message. I reach out to hold his hand in the middle of the night. When he stood beside me as we fought for our son, I felt like we were the only two warriors on the planet and that we alone - that we, together, - were in arms against the same enemy.

But never, never have I ever wanted the devotion of the Knight pledged to die for his lady.

Honey, no.

Get off that horse and come sweep the barn. Come LIVE. Come plan the grocery shopping with me. You scrub behind his ears while I fetch his pajamas. I'll hold the paper, you tape the corner. You wash, I'll dry.

I know that once we tackle this, that we can fly. Even in the darkest moments, when we've hung up angrily and feel completely isolated from each other. I know. I know that it is in our grasp.

But generations of Vikings kick his ass with instincts to deal with adversity with an axe and a roar. And we've been struggling, back and forth. And suddenly I understand. He wants to show he that's in this, that he's sticking.

So I reach to him and say: yes. Yes. Everytime the chips have been down, I've looked to you. You can be my hero.

But in the meantime, in the cracks of life.

Live with me.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 03:51 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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Our Christmas Tree, 12/2004

Well, family lands tomorrow so I guess, yes, there really is a Christmas this year, Santa Claus. more...

Posted by: Elizabeth at 02:17 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Ben inspired me to share with you CD's amazing gift-wrapping methodology.

But before attempting to emulate, understand that this may get VERY expensive. Because my husband? A ROLL of wrapping paper for EACH GIFT. Does not matter the size of the gift? No....

Ready?

1. Unspool unGodly amount of wrapping paper onto floor. From kicthen to dining room. When cats chase each other over it and child hops on it, heave a big sigh, gather up that 20-foot sheet and throw it away.

Start again.

2. Standing over the bedspread of wrapping paper, drop gift somewhere towards an edge.

3. Cleopatra that gift to an R-factor of like, 100.

4. With use of pliers and feet, bend the leftover paper on each side into the middle. There's about 50 layers, so you need to sit on it once you fold it or it will unsprung and maybe? Take an eye out. At the very least, flip over a coffee table.

5. Attack with duct tape. Silver, preferably.

6. Allow preschooler to stick 6 or 7 bows on it

7. Write wife's name in big letters with a Sharpie.

8. Haul it under the tree. Realize that now that you have made a box of perfume roughly the size of a Yugo, that it won't fit.

9. Slide it over to the side of the tree. Gaze at it fondly.

10. Turn to wife and say "Do you want to know what it is?" Look at disbelieving, fish-mouth gaping expression and say, with stunning male self-pride and naivity "What?!"

Posted by: Elizabeth at 07:10 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 My husband isn't a very good gift-wrapper either. It's surprising, actually, since he's very artistic and precise when he wants to be. I think it's because he's English. It's like some kind of European tradition to wrap your gifts in toilet paper and then step on them a few times, so they don't look too fancy. That's what I think, anyway.

Posted by: notdonnareed at December 20, 2004 07:29 AM (bHNZD)

2 Unfortunately, my wife found out that I can wrap gifts, once I decide to DO it. She thinks this is a useful trait, similar to being able to reach things at the top of the closet and kill spiders. She also realizes, that given my overactive Filibuster Gland, I wouldn't actually have any Christmas Gifts wrapped before New Years, so she pretty much does it herself. I love your description. Have you gotten a Yugo yet this year?

Posted by: ben at December 20, 2004 07:47 AM (cMBPb)

3 That's so cute!! I hope you are having some bright days

Posted by: Eyes for Lies at December 20, 2004 12:50 PM (QhI+Z)

4 Does it surprise you that what made me laugh the most was "R-factor of, like, 100"? I thought not. Especially as I know what it would take to get an R-factor of 100, and Elizabeth, not only would such a package not fit under the tree, it wouldn't fit through your door! Glad to see that you feel like writing something funny; that seems like a good sign to me.

Posted by: Kimberly at December 20, 2004 01:54 PM (Vc80e)

5 So typical...the What?! look. It's both charming and frustrating. Don't lose faith about your marriage...keep praying about it. You can both change (God can chnage you both) -- maybe not to be like you were before but to be the way you need to be now. A way that is better than the current situation and better, but different, than the early days. I've been there -- both of us have had to change. I am learning from reading yours and a few other blogs that long marriages seem to have these deep "down" cycles that signal the need for a big readjustment.

Posted by: Kelly at December 21, 2004 03:17 AM (VPwLk)

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Picture, if you will....

Grocery store. CD's pushing the cart, Bear's in the kid seat.

They're scouting ice cream and bobbing their heads to their own internal rhythm.

CD: "Right about now..."

Bear: "Funk soul brotha"

CD: "Just about now...."

Bear: "The funk soul brotha..."

Posted by: Elizabeth at 05:16 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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1 I love that song! And I'm glad Bear is learning the classics. :-)

Posted by: notdonnareed at December 20, 2004 07:26 AM (bHNZD)

2 Oh, my, I can just imagine that little coppery head groovin' to the funk. Hahahahaha!!!

Posted by: Kimberly at December 20, 2004 01:45 PM (Vc80e)

3 That is TOO cute!

Posted by: Amanda at December 21, 2004 07:58 AM (4totH)

4 Good deal! Kids should learn unexpected duets with their folks. It keeps the relatives off balance.

Posted by: Ted at December 26, 2004 04:37 AM (ZjSa7)

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For all my words (blah, blah blah) I was so emotionally constipated 10, 15 years ago that I would expect my friends to get a 1000-word essay on my feelings out of the phrase "I'm fine".

Like those talk, dark, and silent types - when it came to anything real, I would use as few words as possible. Look at my deep green eys, look at my sad, wistful smile, I say "I'm fine" and I shrug a little and then I move away.

Can't you tell? Aren't you fricking PSYCHIC? I'm DYING HERE.

Then? I got over myself. I learned that the world of magic thinking is counter-productive to happiness. Especially? MY happiness.

I learned to say "Life sucks"; I learned to say "Squeeee!"; I learned to say "Ouch, that hurts"; "I learned to say "Down a little and to the left".

But just to be sure that the universe made its point, I married someone just like I used to be. No. Wait. ....WORSE.

Oh, look at the tall dark anti-hero, leaning against the door. Look into his deep brown eyes. See his blank face. Hear him say, in a monotone, "I'm fine."

What? You didn't get from this that he's had an excuciating commute home, too much work on his desk to even think about dealing with in the morning, and a wedgie all the way up to his intestines?

Me neither.

All this and a bag of me being Mommy McMartyr, taking responsibility for all our lives.

So why am I still here?

Because... he's my husband, he's my anti-hero, he loves me to places that aren't on the map, he stands guard over our home and our family like a Marine, and he looks so hot in black leather that it makes my teeth hurt. And?

Because I knew what I was marrying when I married him. We'd found a path, back then, a private place where we could communicate.

A path we've lost and are looking to find again.

This habit we got into - me taking care of him - it was a bad habit. Up there with those Marlboro Lights that took a decade to quit. Maybe worse. Yeah. Worse.

We are re-drawing the responsibility map and it is hard. And I wish, Philip - I wish so much that we could re-start the clock.

This is the dry, dusty, hard trail. There is no mercy in it. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. I hate that we let things slide too long and I hate paying the price.

And I hate that here and now, I'm stumbling in my faith. I hurt, I despair, and I am barely a step away from the chasm. Inside me, I visualize where we are going and I am reaching for it. Inside me? I have hope, and love, and desire.

But. Just this second? Now?

I'm not fine.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 06:56 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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1 My hubby and I are dancing to the same tune over here. But it's so worth it, isn't it? Wishing you all the best this coming year.

Posted by: lex at December 17, 2004 07:12 AM (P8k6q)

2 Hugs to you!!! I have absolute trust that you and CD will find that path. It will probably be better than the one the two of you formerly used. You remind me of the woman I used to be-I have learned to say words like "sucky, thank you!" and "I feel like shit warmed over." On your journey take care of yourself and let him do the same. Laugh a lot and listen to your gut. Hugs and laughter for you!!!

Posted by: Azalea at December 17, 2004 08:03 AM (hRxUm)

3 I think there are so many people in the same place as you are - including myself. I sometimes wish I could read his mind to see if there really is "nothing" in there as he claims it to be. I wish you and CD the best of luck on finding your way back to your path of understanding. Maybe he can handle the GPS thingie-ma-bob. *hugs*

Posted by: Michele at December 17, 2004 08:45 AM (uVhHx)

4 you're certainly doing a fine job of expressing yourself these days...

Posted by: kalisah at December 17, 2004 02:36 PM (HRiMC)

5 Oh Elizabeth...if you need a friend I am here for you...please don't hesitate to reach out. It's okay. It's okay to fight for your marriage and to try and make it work even when it seems so hopeless. If you both want it deep down inside, you will find a way. I am completely certain of it! ((((((((hugs)))))))))

Posted by: Eyes for Lies at December 18, 2004 03:58 AM (QhI+Z)

6 Just wanted to add my support. There will be no magic breakthrough, I'm sure, but things will slowly get back to a place that you're happy with. And you'll be better as a couple because of this.

Posted by: Laura at December 18, 2004 06:56 AM (R+HFl)

7 "Until Today" by Iyanla Vanzant. Hold on.

Posted by: Psycho Kitty at December 18, 2004 05:08 PM (lRZ1W)

8 It sounds to me like you're touching on all the important issues that you're facing, and expressing yourself with honesty and clarity. As hard as it is, it seems like a good place to start. If it's going to work, it's going to work when you're brutally honest like this. Now if you can just beat some brutal honesty out of him . . .

Posted by: Philip at December 20, 2004 12:05 AM (zsoKg)

9 I know everyone's experience is different, and that not all relationships go the way we wish they would. But - if it helps - I'd like you to know that I (we) have been where you are now. Twenty-two years later, we have more magic than most newly-in-love couples I know. Combined. You're saying the right things, you've got the right attitude, and you're heart is clearly in the right place. Hang in there. And don't be afraid of the hard work. If it's something you really want, it will be worth every bit of it in the end.

Posted by: Jennifer at December 20, 2004 08:20 AM (jl9h0)

10 Why does marriage have to be so hard? Seriously. Why can't it be easy? And effortless? Why can't it be like my parents? I've got the opposite problem - my husband tells me EVERYTHING, all the time, angrily and without kindness. I wish he would hold back more often and apologize less. I wish he would take care of me more and worry about his own needs less. But wishing gets you no where. And waiting sucks. I know how you feel. I've been waiting for things to get better for almost 7 years. Sometimes they do. Mostly they don't. So now I just worry about making myself happy - with or without the perfect marriage.

Posted by: Amanda at December 21, 2004 08:07 AM (4totH)

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Breaking this cycle? I know, I know.. 2 steps forward and 1 step back.

But what if I don't believe it will ever change? What if I am crazy about the man but pessimistic about the relationship? What if?

The days are dark, and so is my mood.

He flew home early, so he could make Bear's holiday pageant last night. I was so happy to see him. And then, not an hour later, he made a comment. A little throwaway comment.

But the comment shouted all the things that are wrong. That this one-way street we've walked for so long - with me responsible for reading his mind and making sure he has everything he wants - that we're still on that street.

I stood my ground. Behind our politeness, the air turned stormy as we traded angry glances over our son's head. And I was right back to shaking my head in frustration.

And I don't know if the things we are trying to do can be done.

I am holding on to hope, like a life ring. I am praying, as though my life depended on it. I am breathing, in and out.

I have no idea what else to do.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 10:58 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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I wrote Sue.

Sue wrote me.

*swoon*

Posted by: Elizabeth at 07:39 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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[begin rant]

My best friend growing up was an amazing Mary-Tyler-Moore scrap of a girl named Sue. You met her and 10 minutes later you were laughing your guts out as you shared a soda.

When a guy named John held my hand at a party the autumn of my sophmore year of high school - she was the first person I wanted to call and tell.

When I got my heart broke in college, she was the one I cried to.

In my 20's, when my ex-partner gutted my life with a revelation 6 months after we'd bought a home together, she hopped a plane and met me where I'd run to - my grandmother's condo in Florida.

Late that night, we snurched my grandmother's yacht of Lincoln and made for the cigarette smoke and Rum & Cokes of the local scene. I had valiantly decided not to deal with my life for the night and she had decided to be supportive of that decision.

We wore short skirts and lipstick and as we left one pub to look for the next, a pair of cute guys made their move.

Out in the parking lot, we let them flirt. We let them lean. Kept watch on each other from the corners of our eyes as we had our hands held, our beauty exhorted. B-52's thudding from the radio of our getaway boat.

We managed to make it back to the condo complex with our modesties still relatively intact (phone numbers stashed in our purses). My lips tingled; her cheeks were pink. We slipped into lounge chairs by the pool and chatted as I went through half a pack of Marlboro Lights. We slipped into that silence that falls after you've laughed too much.

After CD left this morning, his duffel packed for another business trip, I was hit by a wave of homesickness for Sue so strong that I got nauseated. When did we stop being the kind of friends that would hop a plane for each other?

When did I become this woman, who ponies up each day? Who lives in the very stoicism that I rejected as a child? When did I stop calling on my friends, when did they stop calling on me?

Dammit. I want to hop a plane to somewhere warm. I want to fluff my hair and dance to Chaka Khan and drink frothy things with umbrellas in them with a girlfriend and giggle. I want to forget my dress size, my age, and my position.

Life is grey and life is hard and I'm lonely. And every small step towards a better future with CD is still anchored in today.

Today. Today when no one looked me in the eye. Today when no one dragged a thumb down my cheek, hoping to get lucky with my lips. Today when no one splashed me with water from a pool and dared me to see how many miochardial infarctions we could cause by skinny dipping in the pool at the middle of a retirement village.

I was looking at pictures of that trip today. My grandmother, who never understood Sue's vegetarianism ("Not even chicken?") and loved Sue's grace ("What elegant handwriting! What excellent manners!") - my grandmother is gone now. And Sue? She's the one happily living in Florida.

But the years took her even farther from me.

I miss Sue.

I miss Chaka Khan. I miss Rum & Coke and giggling in the dark. I miss knowing I can say anything. I miss the kindness. I miss the eyes wise with all the shared memories of childhood and womanhood.

And I miss the adventures. I miss leaning. The pounding of my heart. I want to be kissed, but good. With a hand tangled in my hair and my toes curled.

I don't mind getting older. And I love all the things responsibility has brought to my life. And I believe in the things that we are slowly building.

But.

But.

But.

[/end rant]

Posted by: Elizabeth at 11:52 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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Mango: Uninspired, but still hopeful.: A blatant attempt to appease the judges.

Wow, am I SO Appeased. So. I'm just saying.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 04:08 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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Look and see! (And howdy was it a landslide! Anyone offering to comfort the poor Wolverine over his loss?)

It's been an exciting couple of weeks in the Blogisphere, and it's not over yet. 2 of my favorite Dads, Jim (Captain GENUINE) and Jay (ZERO BOSS) have teamed up to launch the BEST of the BLOGS (BOB) Awards! They've already had 1,246 emails in response - this thing is going to be BIG.

Best of Blog (BoB) Awards 2004

For a reason that absolutely escapes me, they asked if I would be a panelist and I said sure. So I can't be nominated or nominate anyone in the secret category I am .. uh.. panelling. So. PLEASE - head on over and NOMINATE NOMINATE NOMINATE all your favorite blogs (and your own, too!). Did I mention ... there are PRIZES?

And on a really personal note, thank you. The Celebrity Boyfriend thing has been a LOT of fun during a few weeks when fun was the best medicine. The kindness of the blogisphere is often overlooked by those who see only the scams and spam. But I'm living proof. There are still smarts, warmth and generosity in the world, Virginia. Look no further than the comments of this blog to see it.

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Being a closet anarchist, I decided to let everyone have as many votes as they liked. The result? (And it was very, very close...) We have a TIE! So, it's time for a 1-day only run-off.

HARRISON or HUGH?
You decide - The fate of my next crush hangs in the balance.... more...

Posted by: Elizabeth at 06:11 PM | Comments (18) | Add Comment
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LOOK DOWN! There's a new entry below this one.

Vote! Corporate Mommy's Poll for new Celebrity Boyfriend is open until Dec 12. It's neck-and-neck-and-neck! Scroll down or click here to cast your vote!

Vote! Only 48 hours left for the WebLogs! Vote for CM. (Don't forget Munuviana, EveryDay Stranger, SnoozeButton Dreams....)

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It's overcast again. And cold.

CD just left with Bear. As part of our new thing, you know, every morning he gets Bear up and dressed and drops him at school.

Yesterday, I messed with CD's alarm clock so this morning it didn't go off and they were running late. I felt bad, and offered to help, but CD shrugged me off. He said he was fine.

I didn't believe it. I got up, got ready, and braced.

Yet CD was fine. He got himself and Bear up and washed and dressed and out the door. The two of them did a sped-up version of their new morning routine as I sat on the couch in the playroom, waiting for the yell.

It didn't come.

The most help I gave was putting on Bear's shoes and fetching a fruit roll-up. And otherwise, staying out of their way.

I'm a little dazed.

... There's a saying in therapy - that the therapist shouldn't work harder on your life than you do.

In my previous job description as a martyr, especially when we would come under stress? I would run around working harder on his life than CD did.

Oh, you're running late? Let me pick out an outfit for you and iron it, while you take a shower. Don't worry about Bear, I'll get him to school or just take a personal day. You hurry along now!

Feeling needed and used all at the same time, and CD coming to expect this treatment. Eventually, this would have killed us completely. But we're learning new ways.

I can not work harder on anyone's life than they do. It does nobody any good.

I have to work hardest on my own life.

To take care of me.

And to tell you what a screwed-up place we've been in - that sentence seems so incredibly selfish.

It's baby steps. Starting, I guess, with CD dealing with being late. And me? Getting out of the way.

Posted by: Elizabeth at 02:58 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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This is an entry for Blogging for Books. It is silly. The topic - "Your life as a sitcom." And let me say that Anna's entry had me peeing myself and Elizabeth's (the other Elizabeth) had me nodding in violent agreement...so I wasn't even going to try. (I get intimidated real easy.) But wait. I needed some silly. So good, bad or indifferent - here is your primer to Corporate Mommy, the Sitcom.

Previously, on Corporate Mommy...

This season, the previously light-hearted and laugh-filled world of Corporate Mommy took a serious turn when the Corporate Parents began grappling with the question of having more children. Not to say that the characters America has come to love weren't still delighting with their wacky adventures!

Yes, the hijinks continued as the Corporate Family tackled a 900-mile road trip with a loose door strapped to their van (".... it was like having a giant thudding vibrator strapped to our heads"), cheered their team on to winning the World Series (Begone! Curse of Danny Darwin!), and got anti-Political (“Really, what this election needs is a good swift kick in the butt by Miss Manners”) - all with their usual sangfroid.

Meanwhile, the storyline about fertility spun into an arc about the slow rift this sparked in the foundation of the Corporate Marriage.

In upcoming episodes, the antics of the Corporate Family will continue to be tempered by the gravitas of this crisis and the determination of this couple to find a way back to good – or even, hopefully, better.

About Corporate Mommy.

From the Emmy-winning writers/executive producers that brought you hits like “My Mother the Stapler” and “Hazel, The Teen-aged Tycoon”, Corporate Mommy chronicles the klutzy, chaotic and madcap adventures of a work-at-home mother juggling the corporate sharks in one hand and her 4-year-old wunderkind son in the other.

Picture Rhoda Morgenstern doing a craft with birdseed, peanut butter and curling ribbon while managing a 7-figure budget review over her headset. Corporate Mommy is the family sitcom that brings the boardroom into the dining room.

Who can forget the time she tried to get mascara off her tongue before a big client meeting? Or the time she just missed hitting the ‘mute’ button before her son told a co-worker about her breasts?

On a given day, Elizabeth might find herself explaining to her employees the difference between their corporate emails and startrek.alt.newsgroup or putting out a house fire in her living room. The world of Corporate Mommy is a wild and unpredictable ride!

As a mother working in senior management, Corporate Mommy (Elizabeth) faces the challenge of so many modern parents - finding balance. Often is the time that a 2-hour teleconference on determining the earned value of a program seems like a nice break from chasing an active and precocious preschooler. While her husband envies her easy commute (down the hall) and her “business casual” attire (jeans); she envies his escape to a world full of other adults each day.

Elizabeth's huband, Corporate Daddy (CD), is a tall, dark, and quiet Scandinavian who is the perfect foil for his short, curvy and blonde wife. CD happily indulges his Elizabeth’s love of FarScape, and freely admits he said “I love you” first. As well as his IT career and his university studies in robotics, CD’s most compelling interest is in being a great father.

But the breakout star of this family sitcom is undeniably Corporate Son (Bear). You've seen his coppery good looks on the covers of "Toddler Times" and "PreSchooler Beat". A long-awaited Miracle Baby, BearÂ’s passions include outsmarting his babysitter, snappy comebacks., music (dancing, listening, encouraging, even discussing Warren Zevon tunes), and recording his poopies for posterity. BearÂ’s sweetness is, by now, legendary. His career goal is to become the Blue Power Ranger.

Check your local listings and join the Corporate Mommy family of fans today!

Posted by: Elizabeth at 03:26 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 Very nicely done! I'm quite impressed. I did not know that CD studied robotics. Mr. GM teaches robotics. I am looking at an Aibo, aka "K-9," right now.

Posted by: Laura at December 09, 2004 02:26 AM (R+HFl)

2 Loved it and already joined the legion of fans (as I hope you know)!

Posted by: RP at December 09, 2004 05:46 AM (LlPKh)

3 CD does what and can't figure out how to dress Bear?? Don't want to use his robotic device! May the joy and miracle of Christmas warm your heart and light up your life!

Posted by: Azalea at December 09, 2004 12:44 PM (hRxUm)

4 Hilarious! The peanut butter bird feeder transcends time.

Posted by: Sarah at December 09, 2004 07:06 PM (bcO30)

5 Love it! Great entry, as always, your stuff is always consistently great anyway But, also hoping that there's a happy ending in store, and no more "very special" corporate mommy episodes for a good long while.

Posted by: wavybrains at December 11, 2004 09:46 PM (7a6Z+)

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I tried last night to create a poll. It was going to be SO impressive. Seriously. I spent my time at ScriptyGoddess; I read readme files until my eyes crossed.

And then I remembered that FirstTruth of Being Mu: SexyCoolOverlord ReverandPixy doesn't like it when we break Munuviana.

Ergo, the low-tech route.

And the Nominees for Corporate Mommy Celebrity Boyfriend are....

1) John Cusack
2) Pierce Brosnan
3) Colin Firth
4) Harrison Ford
5) Bill Murray
6) Hugh Jackman

CAST YOUR VOTE IN THE COMMENTS! I'll Announce the winner on the 12th, same day as the WebLog Award (*vote for CM Today!*) voting closes.

And yes, I'm sorry GraceD but I just can't be crushing on a guy who, at any tme, could stand up and start chanting "It just doesn't matter!"

Posted by: Elizabeth at 03:55 AM | Comments (28) | Add Comment
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1 You expect me to pick ONE of those fine, fine men? If pressed, I'd have to go with either Pierce Brosnan or Harrison Ford. I still remember the first moments of my celebrity crushes on each of them, "It ain't the years, it's the mileage," in Indiana Jones and the very first episode of Remington Steele. I kinda figured that celebrity boyfriend didn't have to be a monogamous sort of thing, but then I've never had one, so what do I know.

Posted by: Kimberly at December 07, 2004 04:57 AM (Ba9x7)

2 As long as you don't steal my celebrity boyfriend (John Corbett), all is good. You can't have him. He's mine. So, my vote is for Colin Firth. Because he's yummy AND British.

Posted by: Cheryl at December 07, 2004 05:25 AM (dr1mo)

3 I tried to vote for you, but couldn't figure out how to do it. Is it a secret? Colin would be my choice...all things British. I remember the crush I had on Patrick McGoohan (hmm, not sure if I spelled that right) for years.

Posted by: Susan at December 07, 2004 06:02 AM (qNSG7)

4 Oooh, Number 2. Definitely.

Posted by: B at December 07, 2004 06:05 AM (TQHLW)

5 This one is hard: Harrison Ford will forever be sexy. Colin Firth... oh my. But John Cusack? Yes, John Cusack - there's something about the way that man kisses that really melts my butter. Did I just say "melts my butter"?

Posted by: Terri at December 07, 2004 06:46 AM (LRR15)

6 Hugh Jackman!! The guy can dance, act and sing!!

Posted by: Azalea at December 07, 2004 06:53 AM (hRxUm)

7 Harry Baby, for me! Give me Harrison Ford He is about the only celebrity to EVER make it into my dreams! Oh and the Croc Hunter, too. I think I find "capable" sexy -- oh so sexy!

Posted by: Fredette at December 07, 2004 07:12 AM (QhI+Z)

8 Do I have to choose just one? If so, I choose John Cusack because he is mysterious, quirky, and cute in a nerdy kind of way and I'm into that... But, like Cheryl, I recommend John Corbett for celebrity boyfriend. Except for just now realizing that he was two-timing me with Cheryl, he makes me all warm & fuzzy inside!

Posted by: Shannon at December 07, 2004 07:46 AM (WCkg1)

9 Ok it is hard to pick just one and none of them even have long hair. But they are all so... Roguish. I think it's a toss up for me between Harrison Ford and Hugh Jackman. Harrison has the panache and Hugh... oooohh that body! Go Wolverine!... decisions decisions.

Posted by: cathy at December 07, 2004 07:59 AM (ZQtwP)

10 Pierce Brosnan all the way! And I too, can remember the first time I saw an ad for Remington Steele. That man is just too yummy for words.

Posted by: Tammy at December 07, 2004 10:49 AM (aFeo0)

11 If I can't pick Bill (c'mon, you liked him in 'Lost in Translation', right? How about Groundhog Day?) then Harrison Ford. Where's Sir Sean?

Posted by: ben at December 07, 2004 11:02 AM (cMBPb)

12 So hard to choose just one, they are all yummy. I think I'd go with Hugh Jackman though. Mmmm...Wolverine!

Posted by: Jordana at December 07, 2004 11:32 AM (m9mUK)

13 Oh... Harrison Ford. So suave and appears to be oh so human. Sigh... you know the kind of celeb boyfriend that seems accessable. Now... for unaccessable make my panties wet kind of dude... Hugh Jackman. Would take either or both or or or.....

Posted by: Marisa at December 07, 2004 02:45 PM (3GLCU)

14 Well, you *know* I vote for Hugh. He is currently my Fantasy Boyfriend, but I'm not the jealous type, so hey--go for it. I have to say, Hugh is the new Harrison. Cause the Harrison, I did love him until he got all weird and left his wife and started dating skinny girls. Sigh. I guess my number 2 pick would be John Cusack, cause he was awfully sexy killing that guy with the pen in "Grosse Pointe Blank".

Posted by: Psycho Kitty at December 07, 2004 04:06 PM (lRZ1W)

15 Of those listed, I pick Colin! I never had a distinct slant toward the British men, but he definitely does it for me. And my write-in vote is Michael Vartan. Oh wait, I need him to be my celebrity boyfriend.

Posted by: Laura at December 08, 2004 02:01 AM (zBv2m)

16 John Cusack. Definitely. That boy can eat crackers in my bed anyday.

Posted by: Helen at December 08, 2004 02:28 AM (qcoRS)

17 One of each, please.

Posted by: Beth at December 08, 2004 04:54 AM (whvdZ)

18 I'm going to go ahead, and "let" you have Hugh Jackman, because Colin Firth is Mine all mine! Of course when you get sick of hugh, we can certainly swap.

Posted by: francesa at December 08, 2004 05:50 AM (/LWWF)

19 OK, we have quite a bit in common . . . but you don't have to worry about me stealing your celebrity boyfriend anytime soon! The *only* choice from your list that would always make me smile (LOL) would be Harrison Ford. The rest of them . . . just don't float my boat!

Posted by: Monica C. at December 08, 2004 09:47 AM (8Ff77)

20 Hugh Jackman!! Bedroom eyes!!

Posted by: Azalea at December 08, 2004 11:46 AM (hRxUm)

21 I'm voting for Harrison, but why isn't Liam Neeson on the list or Vigo Mortenson or Orlando Bloom?

Posted by: Laura at December 09, 2004 02:29 AM (R+HFl)

22 Hugh Jackman, but your list is missing Matthew McConaughey.

Posted by: Jazzy at December 09, 2004 03:35 AM (Zk9pu)

23 Can I take Bill Murray's spot?

Posted by: Genuine at December 09, 2004 04:08 AM (VCCyY)

24 John Cusack! I like Colin as well, but John is the number one pick for me!

Posted by: Serenity at December 09, 2004 08:19 AM (68bdx)

25 I'm torn between John Cusack and Colin Firth both are so very very yummy and I've asked Santa to have either under the Christmas tree wearing nothing but a bow ... but I'll have to go with John Cusack. Hub understands why I've loved John Cusack ever since I was a wee little girl wishing I was a French foreign exchange student. He will stay up with me till the wee hours of the morning if I happen to catch one of his movies on tv. I guess I did all right with the Hub ... although his crush on John Cusack is beginning to scare me.

Posted by: Michele at December 09, 2004 08:32 AM (9cblf)

26 Well that's just fine, Missy. I'll keep the hysterical, deadpan, lounge lizard sexiness of Bill Murray all to myself. But I'll betcha you didn't know this about Fabu Bill: He co-owns several minor league baseball teams including the Saint Paul Saints. My Bill inspired the Saints to install a hot tub in their home stadium as a seating option! (http://saintsbaseball.com/tickets/specialty/) As for Colin, Pierce and Hugh - they come from the land of cricket. Ptoeey. Cusack - cute. Ford - more cute. But edgy? Like Rushmore and Lost in Translation edgy? No. Baseball spa + edgy + funny = sexy. That's all I have to say, Corporate Mommy. Hmmph.

Posted by: GraceD at December 09, 2004 03:14 PM (P1gbr)

27 You broke Munuvia, and Pixy didn't stop the car, slide your seat back, then give your head a rub with a look of wry amusement on your head even though you had been kicking the back of the seat for the last ten miles? You know, my parents wouldn't have done that. They'd have stopped the car, smacked me into next week, then told me If I Didn't Stop RIGHT NOW I'd Regret It For As Long As I Lived Which Wouldn't Be For Much Longer. (I like to think I came out OK.) Anyhoo--Hugh Jackman.

Posted by: Victor at December 12, 2004 10:51 AM (etHvD)

28 Harrison Ford, baby!

Posted by: Whitters at December 12, 2004 01:12 PM (lgQ31)

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(On a slutting-my-blog note; WEBLOG AWARDS VOTING IS OPEN! Each IP address is allowed to VOTE HERE for Corporate Mommy once a day. Don't forget - SnoozeButton Jim and EverydayStranger Helen, as well as Munuviana, are nominated too!)

This morning, CD was getting Bear ready for school and woke me up, behind schedule and frazzled. Asking for help.

I didn't move.

In the past, I would have launched out of bed like a bottle rocket and fixed everything.

This morning, I stayed in warmth of the comforter and waited. Finally, CD was able to think things through and ask me, specifically, to get Bear dressed.

"Sure," I said. And I did.

I'd asked this past weekend. I asked what my part had been in this crash of us. I asked, near tears, frustrated, what I had done?

He looked at me and said, gently, "too much."

And I realized, as I held his hand between the front seats of the van, that he was right. We've crept into these roles. I, the uber-competant superhero on crack. He, the layabout husband who doesn't deserve me.

Except. Not.

I don't know how we let this happen, how we slipped down this spiral over the last few years. I just know that we've hit bottom.

From here there is only out or up. And no crystal ball to tell me which it will be. Just faith. Just faith.

Love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah... Leonard Cohen

P.S. Ever wondered what Corporate Mommy Looks like? Check out Philip's site and see....

Posted by: Elizabeth at 04:58 AM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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