By: Pearson Brown

All good things come to an end, and so we departed Telluride yesterday for home.  We made the most of our short trip and finished with a whoosh.

We began our final day with a snowmobiling tour with Telluride Snowmobiling Adventures, thanks to a few hours’ timeout arranged by the Peaks Resort with a local nanny service.  Our super cute and friendly guide, Sam Haury, suited us up with warm boots and goggles, and we hopped on our machines and sped off in the freshly fallen snow high into the mountains.  Sam stopped along the way to give us an educational tour of the historic spots, such as the Alta Ghost Town where miners and their families once lived.  We also learned that Telluride was the first in the world to have electric street lights (a week before Paris) thanks to the world’s first hydro-electric power plant built in 1904 to power the Smuggler-Union Mine.  By the end of our two-hour tour, we not only truly appreciated the beauty and history of Telluride, we were expert snowmobilers, flying over whoop-de-dos and winding our way around curves through snow-covered forests with ease.  It was a blast.  As Kira put it, “I couldn’t stop smiling.”

Midday, at last, I got to enjoy Telluride Gay Ski Week to its fullest by hitting the slopes.  Kira was sidelined by her back injury from our first day, so I went solo.  Being a single I found out wasn’t so bad at all.  I sailed right into the chair lift singles line and got paired for the ride with many interesting people, from tourists to locals, and even a four-year old.

I started off slow on the green-circle “easiest way down” slopes.  That’s when I met my four-year old chair-lift companion, who a ski instructor asked if I could “look after” as he scooted onto the take-off platform with me.  He was so tiny that even sitting as far back as he could he was on the edge of the seat, dangling his little legs and skis.  I noticed that he had on a special training vest with a loop stitched into the back whereby the ski instructor could get a grip on him.  Being a nervous mom, I grabbed onto the loop and held him until we reached the other side.  The he took off the chair lift like a pro.

My own runs down the slopes were the best ever in my lifetime skiing career. The snow was perfect.  No ice, groomed, packed powder, and I had the trails almost to myself.  Once I got my ski legs back, I headed for more technical terrain, and the entire day I fell only once, which I swore never to do again, as I was so out of shape that it took me at least five minutes to get myself back up.  Ugh!  Overall though, it was absolutely the best skiing I had ever experienced.

Our last night we had a fabulous dinner at Allred’s, the town’s premier fine dining establishment.  The restaurant has the best views in town, perched at 10,000 above sea level, at the midway point of the gondola between Mountain Village and the town of Telluride.  A first sign of the excellent service to come, the restaurant had a highchair awaiting us and had already cleared the steak knives from the setting for Stephen when we arrived.  Shortly after we were seated, the server brought out an ample portion of good ‘ol Mac n Cheese for our picky little eater, who, to our surprise, finished the entire plate.  We started off with an Alaskan crab salad (Allred’s is the only place serving the delicacy this time of year) with artichoke hearts and served on smoked salmon.  For our main course, Kira had a perfectly cooked filet, and I had a delicious (and certified sustainably harvested) Chilean Bass.  To accompany our entrees, we also had several scrumptious tasting plates of mussels, gourmet grilled cheeses, creamy parmesan spinach and spiced French fries.  Very satisfying!

After dinner we headed home.  After some warm milk, Stephen was out like a light.  Kira and I watched some Olympic ice dancing and then passed out ourselves.  A great end to a wondrous day.

We packed up and met our Telluride Express shuttle at 10:15 am, and after a long winding drive down the mountain we arrived at the tiny Montrose airport with plenty of time and not much to do.  Luckily we brought along sandwiches, so we ate at the one and only cafe at the airport, just outside the one and only gate waiting area, and boarded soon after.  The flight was uneventful, and Stephen was amazingly well-behaved for a two-year old, and thankfully, there was no vomiting this time.  But also no sleeping.  Play Doh and snacks helped wile away the hours until we finally arrived back at LAX, where our new nanny Sam picked us up.  Sam hopped in the back seat and tried to text her friends on the ride home, but Kira and I couldn’t stop telling her about how terrific our trip was.  Stephen interjected too, and tattle-tailed on Kira, “Mama slipped on the ice and dropped me.”  Stephen added that he wanted to see Grandma so he could also tell her that Mama slipped on the ice and dropped him.

It was nice to be home, unpack, get the laundry started and sleep in our own beds, but when I looked out the window, I wished I saw snow.  It was too short a trip to visit such an incredible place.  But as the locals kept saying, “You can always come back, and the summer season is even better!”

[photo credit: Flickr Greyskullduggery]

By: Pearson Brown

Kira’s back is a bit better, and we are hoping by tomorrow she will be up to snowmobiling or even– fingers crossed — skiing.  This morning we headed out early to the Telluride Gay Ski Week Hospitality Tent at the “Beach” at the bottom of the slopes at the Mountain Village.  The staff and sponsors were extremely friendly and helpful, pointing us to all the action.  We also picked up some great swag – classy pens from American Airlines, lip balm from Matthew Shepard Foundation, herbal throat lozenges from Ricola, Nalgene water bottles from Brita, Jucy Juice (hydrating is the name of the game at 10,000 elevation) and other sponsors.  We hopped on a gondola, which we learned is the only free transit of its type in the US, and we crossed over the mountain to Telluride town center.

After Kira’s fall with Stephen yesterday, we thought it best to have our hands free to hold rails, keep our balance, etc., so we stuffed him in his snow suit into my back pack, so he rode high and dry above all about town.  Then we saw a dad pulling his tot on a tiny sled and we realized that was the way to go.  We got a sled at the local ACE hardware store, and we were on our way with Stephen literally in tow.  He loved it!

The town itself defines quaint.  The snow-covered streets are lined with story-book cute chalets and small independent shops and boutiques.  A couple local snowboarder girls who rode the gondola with me last night informed me that Telluride has a commitment to no chain stores, so you will never see a Starbucks or Pottery Barn or any of the stores that populate Every Mall USA littering the landscape of this purist town. How refreshing.

We stopped for lunch at the charming TPK Bistro where we had a delicious (and surprisingly reasonably priced) lunch of Panini di Italian prosciutto ham and fontina cheese and Stromboli di pollo, served by a friendly and gracious wait staff, who seemed genuinely happy to serve us.  Stephen was well-behaved the entire meal, though it didn’t matter much because we were the restaurant’s only guests, at 12 pm.  Despite excellent food, great service and an ideal location on Colorado Avenue, one of the town’s main streets, the eatery was empty, as was much of the town.

One of the producers of Telluride Gay Ski Week told me that this is the tail end of the season, so hence the quiet streets, but with most Gay Ski Week visitors arriving today, the town is about to get much livelier!  Now, I’m off to my room to get ready for the Stoli Lounge and then the opening party here at my home base, the fabulous Peaks Resort.  It may be a quaint sleepy little town of 2,000, but it’s about to wake up!

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[photo credit: Flikcr- Timo wr2]

By: Pearson Brown

Today I took my son to Joey’s Gym in Beverly Hills, the best little kid gym out there — with cool owners who genuinely love kids and their jobs, and I was thinking about how great it is that I got laid off one year ago today.

Thanks to being jobless, I get to take Stephen every Tuesday to his Gym Cats class, and I get to see him growing up little by little, like when he learns to wait his turn and listen for his name to be called before he gets to jump up and run the obstacle course and finish with a big hug for mommy.

And then I really got a dose of the benefits of being a stay-at-home mom when just before class was about to let out he started touching his ear and crying, saying “My ear hurts.”

We went to the gym waiting area where I tried to soothe him, but when he was inconsolable for nearly 10 minutes I left to take him home.  He kept crying and hitting at his ear.  Even Nemo on the in-car DVD player — usually reserved for long trips — didn’t help.

I called his pediatrician’s office from the car, and he was crying so loud I could barely hear the nurse.  They couldn’t see him until 2:45 pm, and urgent care was booked until 4 pm.  I took him home to wait it out, to see if I might have to take him to the ER.  I gave him some warm milk, which usually calms him, and he was still crying.  His temperature was 98.  After about 20 minutes he feel asleep in my arms.  I kept checking his temp with the ear thermometer.  It was now 100.6.  But he was sleeping peacefully.

He awoke a few times crying, but mostly he slept until 2:30 when I bundled him up and put his increasingly warm little body into the car seat.

The doc took us nearly right away.  His temp was now 102.  While I was explaining to him the symptoms, suddenly Stephen heaved and began vomiting.  Covered in barf, I tried to comfort him as he cried and vomited more.  The doc offered some wipes and paper towels.

The diagnosis –thank goodness –was simple stomach flu.  Treatment was a fever-reducing suppository and 24-hour liquid diet followed by 24-hour BRAT (bananas, rice, apple sauce, and toast) diet.

The main relief was that I was there with him.  I held him when he vomited again before leaving the doc’s office, and then when he got home.  He held my neck tightly when I laid down with him, and when I started to move to get a blanket, he whimpered, “Mommy, don’t go.”  Of course I didn’t go anywhere.  I was nearly tearful to see him so weak and sad, his cheeks flushed red with fever and his eyes half-closed.  The only good thing was, because I got laid off, I was able to be home with him during his time of need.

My partner is a school teacher, and it would be very hard for her to get a sub and run home at a time like this.  If I had been working at my PR job, it would have been very difficult for me to put down my client’s work and just leave the office to go home.  It would have been the nanny taking him to the doc and then staying with him to keep an eye on him and comfort him.

He is only two, so I am sure he will not remember this incident, but subconsciously I think he will remember that I was there for him, and he will continue to grow up little by little each day of his toddlerhood – a time that I am privileged to share with him daily due to my state of unemployment, and he will be a little bit stronger for it.

And even if he does not remember any bit of this time, I will, always.

By: Pearson Brown

The 2007 Scarlett Johansson movie, The Nanny Diaries, based on the novel of the same name, tells one side of the story — of the life of a nanny and her awful employers.  Well I have another side to tell.

We just got a new nanny, and she’s a keeper.  She’s a sweet, kind and caring young girl of 23 years from Nebraska, new to LA, and she loves kids.  She is our third nanny in two and a half years.  We had hoped for consistency in child care for our son’s sake, but unfortunately the others had to go.

Nada

The first nanny, we’ll call her “Nada,” came recommended by a friend who had employed her as a housekeeper.  She seemed nice enough, very animated, though a bit screechy, and she came recommended by a mom who told me, ”She always helped out without being asked” and ”She not only cleans, she deep cleans.”  Wow, she sounded fantastic.  I hired her to babysit my son three days a week when my maternity leave was up and I had to return to work when my son was three months old.

She spoke Spanish and broken English, and I spoke some Spanish, but I found that her English failed her — as did her ability to understand my Spanish – when she did not want to understand.  For instance, she had agreed to do light housekeeping, such as mop the kitchen floor once a week and wash my son’s clothes, when my son was napping, but these things never got done.

When I came home for lunch or unexpectedly dropped in on her during the day, she would be reading a magazine at my kitchen table while my son napped.  When I mentioned that it would be a good time to do the laundry, she would nod and say, “Yes, yes,” but then she would continue to sit and read.  In fact, she would give me a dirty look right before she went back to reading her magazine, which by the way, was in English.

Okay, so that’s not so bad, but then I found out the real reason why she always rushed out in the morning to get to the park.  I thought she was eager to play with my son on the swing and let him run around with the other kids at the park.  After some recon, I discovered that she was dashing out to get her latte at Starbucks and then meeting her friends to chat while parking my son, imprisoned in his stroller, for up to three to four hours each day.  Then she would return home when he was sleeping — stashing her empty Starbucks cup in our bushes in the front yard on the way in — to read magazines and have lunch.

When I learned that my son was basically vegetating all day in her care, I said “adios” to her, and I went about finding another nanny.

P.S.  I will never know why that first mom gave Nada such a high recommendation.

Tricki

Due to being laid off at my job, I couldn’t afford to pay a nanny as I had done previously, so I offered a live-in position three days a week in exchange for housing.  I found our second nanny, we’ll call her “Tricki,” on craigslist.  She told me her career ambition was to one day own a day-care center.  She said she loved kids and had been a nanny before, though she could not get a recommendation from her former employer because she was a “stage mom” who had expected too much, and the employment did not end well.

Tricki was 23 and returning to LA to live after being laid off from her entry-level job in Colorado, where she had relocated to be near her boyfriend.  When I heard “out-of-state boyfriend,” I should have known better, but I took her into our home and she began babysitting my son while I was freelancing from home.

At first, things seemed fine, except my son’s sleep schedule inexplicably changed coinciding with her babysitting routine.  On days that Tricki watched my son, he began taking long morning naps, sometimes for three or more hours.  While I worked from my home office I often assumed Tricki had taken my son to the park, because the house was so quiet, but then I learned they were in her room, both of them sound asleep.

When I asked Tricki to shift naptime to the afternoon, she claimed she tried but my son just naturally fell asleep in the morning, though sometimes he had just woken up an hour or so before.  Finally, I got to the bottom of the mysterious sleeping schedule.

Seems that Tricki was tired from her night job as a hostess at a popular local restaurant, often followed by late-night carousing with her co-workers and friends, and she needed her rest, so she put my son on her schedule, for her own convenience.

I also noticed that she was calling and texting her boyfriend, a lot, and I was very firm with her that she should wait until my son was napping or when she was off duty to call and text.  She agreed, but the calling and texting continued. Constantly.

Once I came outside to see her standing in front of our house with my son in his stroller while she chatted on the phone.  I waited a few minutes, unseen, as she continued to chat. I went into the house for about 25 minutes, and came out to astoundingly find her still standing chatting on the phone.

Needless to say, the mopping and laundry never got done, but really, these issues were minor compared to what followed.

When I had already decided it was time for Tricki to go, and I was just deciding how to handle it, she threw a wrench in my plans to get rid of her by wrecking my SUV.  I had suspicions she was texting while it happened, but she claimed she simply did not see the parked van that she struck in the parking lot at Chuck E Cheese.  She had no funds to pay for the $4,000 in damage, but she agreed to “work it off” by putting in extra babysitting hours.

Then, through no fault of her own, as she pointed out to me, she had an emergency appendectomy, which required her to convalesce at my home for a few weeks.  During this time I of course was not able to do any freelance work as I had to take over childcare during the day.

After her recovery, I let her know that I was letting her go, but I explained that the reason was that my parents were coming for an extended visit and I needed her room.  When she knew she was on her way out, she showed her true colors.

The week before she was due to leave, she came home at 5:30 am so stumbling drunk she could not figure out how to use the key to get into our house.  My partner heard the commotion of her fumbling with her keys, and looked out our front window to find her crouched in the courtyard, urinating.  Appalled, my partner left for work and Tricki passed out in her room.  At 9:30 am I tried to rouse her.  I saw her feet sticking out from the covers and thought she might be dead.  I yelled her name and shook her but she was unresponsive.  I called 911.  Just as the operator was about to send help, Tricki emerged, smelling of alcohol, and apologized that she “must have overslept.”

That was the last straw, but it was not the last of the outrages.  Tricki was due to pack up and leave at the end of the week, and her boyfriend had quit his job, sold his car and decided to move to be near Tricki in California and stay with his parents who lived about an hour away from LA.  He came to visit Tricki while she was on the job babysitting, and Tricki promised that he would not be a distraction and in fact he was a really great playmate for my son, and it did seem that my son enjoyed his company, and at least Tricki was not sleeping all day and they actually went out and did things during the day.

Each night, after my partner, my son and I were in bed, Tricki’s boyfriend went home to his parents’ house.  Each night we heard them leave around 2 am, then Tricki returned home around 4 am. We never wondered how he got home, despite the fact that neither he or Tricki had a car.   Then we found out how.  Every night, after we went to bed, Tricki took my partner’s spare car key and helped herself to the car.  When my partner mentioned to me that she thought the car was not where she parked it, or the seat was moved back, or the gas tank was empty, I thought she was imagining things.  Then Tricki accidentally left her coat in the car, and she was busted.

With this bit of solid proof, I confronted her outright.  “Have you been taking the car at night?”

She was speechless.  Then she managed a few lines that she must have rehearsed when she realized she left her coat in the car and would likely be questioned: “Just a few times when it was late and I went out for ice cream and I didn’t want to walk to the store late at night.”

Right.

So Tricki was gone.  Good riddance.  And don’t even think about getting a reference.

P.S.  I think I know now why she wasn’t able to give me a reference.

Hope

So now we have Hope.  She’s working out great so far.  I’ve given up on the laundry and mopping thing.  If she does it fine, if not, I’ll just do it myself.  The main thing is she is responsible and she takes good care of my son.

Ok, so her first week she wrecked my partner’s car.  A lady just unexpectedly stopped in front of her and she couldn’t brake in time.  No one was hurt.  For some reason the magic figure for body work these days is $4,000, and that is what the latest nanny crash cost us.

Stuff happens, and perhaps this one incident with the car “got the stink off” as an old friend used to say about breaking a spell of bad luck.

We sure hope so.

By: Pearson Brown

I’ve been re-reading and editing the book I began writing FOUR YEARS AGO! I can’t believe there has been such a lapse. Before taking a break, I actually wrote 400 pages, and I loved writing it, but planning to have a baby, trying to conceive and then giving birth, caring for a newborn and now raising a two-year old took precedence.

Of course little Stephen is still my first priority, but with being laid off from my job 10 months ago and freelance jobs paying so little, I began to think that perhaps finishing the novel will not only be enjoyable but profitable. I had shown the first 220 pages to an agent who immediately wanted to represent me, which I think was a good sign. Another agent at ICM to whom I told part of the story was also eager to read it. So, with that encouragement, I am back on track.

They say a writer must write everyday, and now that I am blogging and freelancing as a journalist I am doing that, and I think it actually helps my novel writing. It’s like exercise, or practice. Do it everyday and you get stronger and better.

So we’ll see how it affects my blog posts. Ready, set, write!

Out With Mommy

By: K. Pearson Brown

Sometimes as a gay mom I feel I represent all gay moms, so I have to be careful, or else I can ruin it for everyone if I do something that would not make us all proud. Sort of like an ex of mine who took her freedom rings from around her neck and removed the inverted pink triangle button on her jean jacket (ok, it was in the 90s) because we were going to the store and she was not in full make-up and hair. She explained, I don’t want to be a bad lesbian. I get it now. So if one lesbian goes to Macy’s looking ragged, an unenlightened straight person might think, “That is how lesbians look.”
Same with being a gay mom. So if a rude kid at the park takes my son’s shovel from him in the sand pit, then I have to first put on my gay mom hat before I react. Otherwise, that mom might think, “Those lesbian moms, always so touchy.”
So the other day when my son Stephen found a toy on the sidewalk the other day, a Big Bird finger puppet, I realized this was going to be one of those gay mom moments.
I had washed the toy and my son was carrying it everywhere with him. He has dozens of great, new, expensive and designer toys, but this is the one he chose as his favorite, for now. But when my partner ran into the neighbor’s nanny out scouring the lawn, looking for the toy, we learned it belonged to Griffin, the baby three doors down who had dropped it. Actually, it was his father’s childhood toy (he was a young dad).
So my partner came inside and told me the news, and we knew we had to take the toy back to Baby Griffin. This is when I surmised that how we handled this situation would be how we would be judged as lesbian moms. After all, we were the only two-mom household on the block, and although all the neighbors are friendly with us, still, we are aware that to them all we are are the “lezzies with the kid” that live on their street.
We thought it best to tell our son that the toy belonged to Griffin and that we needed to return it. We thought it best that Stephen hand it over to Griffin himself. So we strolled down to the neighbors with Big Bird, and when Griffin’s mom answered the door, we excitedly told Stephen, “You get to give Griffin his toy back, you will make him so happy, won’t that be nice!”
Stephen had a fit. He didn’t want to let go of the toy, and all hell let loose. He threw a tantrum, screaming and yelling as my partner tried to gently pry the toy from his fingers. It is amazing how strong their little grip can be when they don’t want to let go of something. Finally, the toy was handed to Griffin’s mom who smiled politely and sympathetically. Stephen had to be dragged away kicking and screaming.
So, despite the best laid plans, Stephen has no idea his moms are lesbians or what that means. He is a two-and-a-half-year-old boy, and that is how they act when a prized toy is taken from them.
The moral of the story is that Stephen was the genuine one of us, expressing how he felt without any thought about what other people thought of him. His behavior was age appropriate, but I had to wonder about mine.
I realized I had to stop worrying about what people might think of me, like I did in junior high school, and just be a mom. If I were gay or not, I would have handled the situation with Big Bird just the same, so why not just do what I feel compelled to do as a mom and forget that I am a gay mom. I am just a mom. And so is my partner. Thanks for the lesson Big Bird.
P.S. I went on eBay and found a very similar toy. A couple days after it arrived, Stephen was already over it.

Out With Mommy

By: K. Pearson Brown

The reviews from Sundance so far have been very favorable about this new movie. Darn, couldn’t get a screener from the production company yet so I could review it myself. I can’t wait to see it!

A couple, Nic and Jules (Annette Benning and Julianne Moore), live with their teenage children, Joni and Laser (Mia Wasikowska and Josh Hutcherson), in a cozy craftsman bungalow in Los Angeles. As Joni prepares for college, her younger brother pesters her for a big favor—help him find their biological father. Against her better judgment, she makes a call to the sperm bank; the bank, in turn, calls Paul (Mark Ruffalo) and asks him if he’s willing to meet his daughter. He agrees, and a complicated new chapter begins for the family.

Director Lisa Cholodenko returns to Sundance (Laurel Canyon played at the 2003 Festival, and High Art won the Waldo Salt Screenwriting Award at the 1998 Festival) with this vibrant, astute, and richly drawn portrait of a modern family. Once again, Cholodenko demonstrates her uncanny ability to reach beneath the gloss of Southern California to illuminate the emotional and transformative power of human vulnerability and, in doing so, establishes herself as one of America’s most formidable auteurs.

Out With Mommy

By: K. Pearson Brown

Out With Mommy

Today I went on a guided tour of Vancouver’s shopping districts and previewed a new iPhone app called ChicWalks.   Felt entirely fashion-inadequate as we browsed shoes at Fluevog where the average priced shoe was about $300 Canadian, and Holt Renfrew department store where the haute couture was more over-priced than Needless Marcup on Rodeo, and then on to a private fitting in the no-doors dressing room at the warehouse-turned-style-house JC Studio where the ultra kind and generous designer of the Jacqueline Conior line (famous for dressing the L Word girls when shooting in Vancouver) took pity on me and gave me 30 percent off on a pair of jeans, and even personally dropped them off at my hotel after alterations.

As I tried to hide my mommy body in the open-air dressing room, and the fluorescent lights highlighted my dimpled belly, which never recovered from those 41 weeks and six days of pregnancy, I felt like a schlubby mommy.  I can’t wait to get back to my little wonder boy who couldn’t care less what brand I’m wearing and who runs to hug my bare legs whenever he gets the chance, oblivious to my physical and fashion imperfections.  I am glad I came on this fashionista bootcamp trip, as it makes me appreciate what is most important to me, though I still will make a better effort to be more daring fashion-wise, as soon as I have some money.

Out With Mommy
By: K. Pearson Brown

Away from the little one for my first extended trip, a press junket – Glam Girls Getaway in Vancouver. Looked forward to actually sleeping through the night without the pitter patter of little feet running to my bedside at 3 am, but when I woke in the hotel alone I missed him so much I couldn’t get back to sleep. Thank goodness for my computer and access to YouTube so I could see him, though in video. Night night Sweetie!

Out With Mommy

Out With Mommy
By: K. Pearson Brown

Went to the Her HRC soirée in Hollywood last night and had a great time meeting lots of nice women, like Kim Hoke, an up-and-coming stand-up comedienne, and her personal trainer girlfriend Tanya, and the lovely Christina Buie (see pic below). We’re already Facebook friends this morning!

Thing is, I never go out anymore. Since I became a mom, it’s a major undertaking to go out. Last night we couldn’t get a sitter, so Kira stayed home with Stephen and I went with my friend Jame. Just as well, because by the time we pay a sitter, pay for valet, pay for the cover charge and a couple drinks, we’re up to $100.
So I joked with my new friends how I haven’t danced in five years and I have a drink about once every six months. Last night was my night to do both. Got home before midnight (the time I used to just be heading out) and I was so buzzed from one strong drink that I had bed spins.

Ugh! I couldn’t sleep all night, and it didn’t help that Stephen woke up around 1:30 am and I had to put him back to bed, and then I lay awake until 4 am and then just gave up trying to get any shut-eye.
It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, and I am still HUNGOVER from one vodka and cranberry.

Luckily I had the nanny today, because it’s been raining non-stop since yesterday and I just don’t know how playful I could be with Stephen today when I feel like a college kid who just pulled an all-nighter with back-to-back Midnight Madness parties. Did I really used to do that? Every weekend? And I survived???

Out With Mommy