My Momversation last week was a really hard one – “Are Kids Returnable?” When I saw the topic, I sighed heavily. I’d paid close attention to the story of the Tennessee woman who sent her adopted son on a one-way flight back to Moscow with merely a note saying that she no longer wished to parent him. It’s a sensational and appalling story.

It’s also a story that isn’t as black and white as you might think. Sure, we can all agree that the way the woman handled it was completely inappropriate. Removing that from the equation, though, there were so many other options for her. I can’t imagine having a child so volatile in my home, so I can’t say that I know what I would do in that situation. I can only say what I hope I would do. I would exhaust all the services available to me as a parent to a child with mental health issues. I’d be banging down the doors of behavioral therapists, child psychologists, you name it. I would consider hospitalization, if necessary.

What would I do if none of that worked?  I don’t know. I would hope that…well, I would hope that if none of that worked, I could find a solution. If that meant the child would be better off in another home that might be better suited for his or her unique quirks, then I’d hope I’d have the strength to offer that to my child. I would never send a child BACK to an orphanage and hope everything turned out OK. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself not knowing for certain the child wasn’t in a better situation.

Below, I attempt to talk about it with Maggie and Alice. Try not to be jarred by the super-awesome still of me.

It’s a rough, rough thing. I would love to hear about this from adoptive and foster parents (I hate those labels – aren’t we all just parents, period?). It was hard for me to find the right words for such an intense topic.

Another weekend post! It’s as if I’m all hopped up on flu medication. Wait…

So the best thing about being sick is that I don’t have to feel guilty about not exercising. Except I still feel guilty, which is crazy! But this exercise business is important stuff. Exercise will help with my mood, help with my health, and hell, I might even lose some of this baby weight – or, at least not put ON additional weight. And all that blah blah blah.

On Momversation, Alice, Asha, Jessica and I talked about finding the time to exercise. SHOCKER: I talk about how much I hate it.

But seriously. I have a physical with Dr. Looove at the end of the month and I have to clearly be on the road to health. This lovely flu has jump started my weight loss (if you tell me it’s only water weight I’ll punch you), so instead of working hard to gain it back (mmm pie), I am going to work hard to keep it off.

How do all of you busy people schedule exercise? Or do you? Are you like me with lofty hopes but lazy follow-through? How can I make it more fun than watching re-runs of Arrested Development and Glee?

I was interviewed by WomensHealth.gov if you want to read it, click on over.

I LOVE the names we gave our daughters. I’ve told the story of how we decided on both of their names, and I was certain before either of them were born that the names were perfect.

I OBSESS over names. I have a name picked out for a boy, should I ever have one. I don’t have another girl name set, although I have several in mind. But, I have other friends that struggle over names. I know one couple that didn’t name their child for WEEKS (I didn’t even know you could leave the hospital without a name)!

I also have some friends with name regret. They wished they’d named their child something else for one reason or another. I can’t imagine how strange that must feel – to look at your child and feel like the name you gave him or her wasn’t right. Eeek.

On Momversation this week, Rebecca, Lisa and I discussed baby name criteria, regrets, and craziness.

So, I want to know, what was some of your naming criteria, and do you regret the name you chose? If I ever have another daughter, I’m going to need some serious name help!

I have a confession: I have no idea how to feed a household.

When I was growing up, I was treated to delicious balanced meals by my grandma and mom. In college I lived in a big house that employed a chef. After college, I worked for a restaurant. So you’d think that with all this prolonged exposure to good food, I would know how to plan a meal. Alas, I do not.

OK that’s not entirely true. I know that you can get an already cooked chicken, reheatable mashed potatoes, and a tossed salad at the grocery store. BAM there’s a meal. But the whole home-cooked meal thing? I fail at it. The sad thing is, I’m not a bad cook. Mike still talks about my chicken enchiladas – the ones I made back when we were dating and I was trying to impress him. I make really good fresh spaghetti sauce. A few years ago? I baked an award-winning cake. But lately, I just can’t do it. And I want to, I truly do.

OK that’s not entirely true, either. I do want to have home cooked meals. But I want them with little effort. I’m not good at planning far enough in advance to get the groceries required for a home cooked meal. And that’s pretty pathetic because I live about fifty feet from a grocery store. It’s just that I get wrapped up in my day, and the next thing I know, it’s 6:15 pm and Mike is eating cereal and I am breaking into my emergency stash.

I want Annabel to grow up the way I did, with a balanced dinner on the table every evening at six o’clock. Right now she is easy to feed (I have that DOWN if you know what I’m sayin’), but I need to figure out how to feed my family before she is eating regular meals. I have everything I need – a crock pot, many lovely pots and pans bestowed upon me by wedding guests, a barbecue. I even have a beautiful red KitchenAid mixer…still in the box. Somewhere, a baker sheds a solitary tear.

HOW do people do this?! I’m not putting undo pressure on myself as I don’t want or need to be super mom with the gourmet meals. I think I am psyching myself out. I mean, people with tiny children cook meals all the time. It can’t possibly be as hard as I am making it, right? I need easy. I need simple. I need an excuse to wear my adorable “Mrs. Spohr” apron as something other than a bib.

Teach me o wise internet readers! I am your grasshopper. Then I will have you all over for a nice dinner. But someone else has to clean up, because I can’t stand cleaning a kitchen.