I sincerely apologize for this. I am overwhelmed by the sentiments in response to my Essential Thrombocytosis (E.T.) diagnosis, illustrated in the two-week series I did way back when. I’d like to mention I am doing well, my platelet count still remains steady for now.

I’d also like to repost the links to the two foundations I had mentioned in March: the MPD Foundation and the MDS Foundation. I’ll also add two other links a reader had sent: MPD-Support and MPDinfo.org. E.T. is a called an “orphan disease” because it’s so rare and therefore kind of falls under the radar for funding/research. And the three other myelodysplastic (blood) disorders certainly deserve funding as well, considering one or two of them come with limited life expectancy.

Once again, I apologize for the delayed postings. Thank you, thank you for all the words of kindness!

So my long-absent daughter has returned from camp. Funny thing, this strip series was written months before she actually left. Call it mother’s intuition, but I just knew there would be a change. And there was.

Not so much physically…I mean, aside from the tan and sun-bleached highlights we adults have to pay professional hairdressers for. No, I mean emotionally. My daughter just seems more grown up. She talks about using deodorant and shaving her legs (which have less hair on them than I have on one arm). She speaks of the enormous connection and camaraderie she shared with her bunkmates (“They’re not like the kids here, Mom. They never exclude anyone, there’s no jealousy, you know?”). She seems so mature and, well, nicer. Boy, I hope that lasts.

We’ve had discussions about puberty before, but now I’m really seeing it firsthand. I’m prepared for the physical changes – and so is she – but now I’m also considering the internal changes. The beautiful thing is, I’m getting a glimpse of the amazing woman she will become. And I’m grateful I’ll be there to witness the journey.

Obviously, I wrote the series well before my daughter actually leaves (a.k.a. I made stuff up). But we did have prior emotional experience. Last summer, my daughter visited her aunt in CA for a month. I really thought I’d be fine with the separation. But when we said our goodbyes at the airport gate, I saw a flash of tears in her eyes (mind you, she never shows her soft side if she can help it). That was it for me. I didn’t stop crying for two days.

Luckily, her trip worked out well and the rest of us made it through the wait intact. But the one adverse side effect I was NOT prepared for was the ensuing neediness of my younger daughter. At first, she clung to me like static cling. It made sense – there was never a time when she wasn’t under the same roof as her sister.

Thank goodness she eventually worked through her separation issues. Still, WHOA. That first week was tough. Talk about regression. In hindsight, I thought that made for some interesting material. The camp series turned out to be equally about Jess’s clinginess as Amy’s remoteness.

Oh yeah, I also made up some stuff about camper crushes. I mean, let’s face it, we know what summer’s REALLY about.

A few months ago I went out during the evening while my husband watched our girls. He was sitting in the bedroom, flipping around stations, while the kids did their nighttime routines of brushing, flossing, etc.

When they were finished, they came into the bedroom to keep their dad company. Well, he was watching the TV show “Bones,” and apparently decided (even though there’s a disclaimer at the beginning for graphic content) that it was completely appropriate material for a 9 and 7-year-old.

Needless to say………

Okay, so I switched “TV show” to “DVD.” But you get the picture. Let’s just say we had company in our bed for the next week. Ahem…I should say, I had company. I was the one they woke up hourly. I was the one they clung to or dragged back to their beds at 2 am. Isn’t it funny how the wife ends up paying for the husband’s mistakes? The only redeeming thing about it was Mike did eventually apologize. Only after he let the 7-year-old borrow a Stephen King novel (joke).

Movin’ on…

Mike and I did our every-other-year pilgrimage to the Reuben (cartooning) Awards in Jersey City this year. We had a lovely time and, as usual, met some new faces while enjoying time with some familiar ones. We managed to sneak to NYC as well, which rounded out the trip nicely. The only thing I did a little differently this time: I brought along my laptop and actually colored a Sunday strip in the hotel room. Some habits can’t be broken.

I finally realize the meaning of that old cliché: “I’m too young to be this old.” I swear I was just twenty-one a minute ago.

I (semi) joke to my husband that I missed the full effect of my 30th milestone because I was busy going into labor (our older daughter’s birthday is the next day). Therefore, it feels like the last two decades just came plowing into me at once.

But overall, I feel pretty darn good. The platelet count is holding steady. I have an amazing family. And, despite the last year of less-than-stellar industry-wide mojo, I’m doing my dream job. Not bad.

Still, I really thought I was above the whole getting older nonsense; alas, I’m not immune. Short of acquiring a convertible and a 20-year-old blonde floozy-on-the-side (Sven), I’m happy to play it low-key. As usual, I’m satisfied to document the whole thought process in this week’s strips.

If you’re turning the big fuh, fuh, fuh this year as well, I hope the series resounds well with you. If you’re still enjoying the glow of youth…well, get over it. It’ll be your turn, too.

Enjoy!

Not to mention…

Yes, pigs do fly. I’ve started working on my first book collection of Pajama Diaries strips. Woo! I don’t know how many times readers have asked me if a book was on its way and how often I’ve delayed doing one. I’ve had good intentions, but honestly, it’s a huge undertaking. And working six days a week doesn’t make it any easier.

But enough excuses. I’ve vowed this year is going to be IT. I hope. I think. Well, maybe…

No, no, it’s really happening. Hubby and I have already done a lot of the leg work, and we won’t turn back now. But please don’t ask me about a time frame yet, because it’s hard enough figuring out when I’m getting my next haircut. Let’s just say I’m hoping within a year (the book, not the haircut).

So we’ll leave it at that and I’ll keep you posted (still talking about the book).

Till then, back to the drawing board.

The headaches were becoming so frequent, I went to the doctor (this time insisting it wasn’t sinus-related, as past sinus medications had proven fruitless). At first, she started prescribing migraine meds. But I really didn’t want meds; I really wanted to figure out the cause of this. After an Oscar-worthy pregnant pause, the doctor asked if I wouldn’t mind taking a blood test to rule out anemia or low iron. I agreed and promptly went to the lab to donate my red stuff.

To cut to the chase, after more tests (including an uncomfortable-but-not-as-bad-as-you’d-think bone marrow biopsy), it was concluded that I had a rare blood disease called “Essential Thrombocythemia.” Basically, that’s a fancy medical term for “my bone marrow produces so many platelets , they can clump up like bad cake mix.”

It was, of course, both a relief and a shock. A relief because the doctor prescribed baby aspirin to prevent blood clots, and this essentially (no pun intended) cured the migraines. A shock because at any time, my platelet count could increase and I’d have to go on special chemo-type meds. Also, this disease can mutate into one of three other more dire and unsavory related blood diseases.

But I choose to look on the bright side: it makes for some compelling cartoon material. Like a sneering, cosmic challenge: “Let’s see you turn THIS into something amusing!”

So I did.

Well, I hope so anyway. If anything, it was another cathartic event for the author.

And on that note, this series compels me to post a link to two foundations: the MPD Foundation and the MDS Foundation. E.T. is a called an “orphan disease” because it’s so rare and therefore kind of falls under the radar for funding/research. And the three other myelodysplastic (blood) disorders certainly deserve funding as well, considering one or two of them come with limited life expectancy.

So if you can and are willing to help out the future of one slightly freaked-out cartoonist, please do so by making a contribution. Or at least by reading the fascinating case studies (hmm, maybe that’s just me — chalk it up to personal significance).

In the meantime, enjoy the rest of the series. And really, I’m not that freaked out. Frankly, I’m too busy to worry.

Here’s a link to the most recent one describing the birds and bees series from January. He mentions my penchant for delving right into the subject of “canoodling.” I’m glad he brought that up, it’s something I do without apologies (and I sincerely hope without driving papers away).

Thanks, also, to everyone who emailed me with positive feedback regarding this series. It was definitely a fun one to work on.

Occasionally, I get called out for grammatical or illogical (writing) errors. In fact, my husband caught one the other day while reading my strip in the paper (by the way, this was after both of us proof-read it prior to publication…argh). In case you’re wondering, it was from 12/30: Jill mentions Amy getting sick in school; technically, the kids are supposed to be on winter break. Oops. Still, a relatively minor infraction.

What most people probably don’t realize is that there are many more artistic inconsistencies in the strip. Oh, sure, sometimes I may forget to shade in part of a shirt or maybe there’s the occasional problem with a color translating into print. But I’m talking about inconsistencies that are intentional.

Just for funsies, let’s play a game. Try to pick out what’s inconsistent in the two strips below. Bet it’s easy:

Yep – the furniture and cabinetry placement. Also, color – although in the top one, I intentionally muted the cabinetry color so it would recede into the background.

Normally, I try and keep the general color scheme and styles consistent, but sometimes the scenery changes for the sake of composition. Also, evolution. In the “early” days, the kitchen – like in the top strip — contained a jutting cabinet “peninsula.” That became compositionally problematic, so I took it out. The cabinetry now hugs two walls. One thing that changes constantly: refrigerator placement. I rarely even include one unless needed. Don’t ask me why. I use the same back door, but that placement changes in relation to the kitchen table. Again, for artistic purposes.

The family room layout changes, too. The same couch is always there, but sometimes there’s a table in front of it, sometimes not. The lamp changes from the left-hand side to the right. And rarely, I’ll add a window behind the couch. I justify it by pretending the Kaplans are restless and like to move furniture around.

As I said, part of it is for composition, part of it is evolution. But much of it goes unnoticed. Most people don’t read the comics fastidiously and aren’t aware of artistic details as much as they are of the written ones. I’d include myself there. When reading other comics, I mean.

Anyway, just a fun fact to remember as you continue to (hopefully) read Pajama Diaries. In fact, try and catch this in other cartoons. Bet it’s more common than you think.

Have a great 2010!

So I’d like to take a stand. Yes, of course I’m aware that Pajama Diaries is wordier than many cartoons. It is in diary format. But if you read it on a daily basis, you’ll notice I tend to balance the wordier ones with more visual or less text-y strips. Not that I should defend that process at all. I mean, geez, has anyone read a Doonesbury cartoon?

In college and beyond, I was an admirer of artists like Lynda Barry and Nicole Hollander, whose comics are not only wordy, but feminine-skewed. Like Lynda Barry, I deal with both narrative and dialog. I like that dynamic. And after hmmph-teen years working in the card business, I also came to realize men and women generally gravitate toward different styles of humor.

Not that I’m trying to appeal just to women, but let’s face it. When I do hear from both sexes, the men tend to like my quicker, gag-based jokes while women usually appreciate the story lines and relatable stuff. Those often include the heavily “verbose” strips. Honestly, most of the time I’m just writing for myself…and you wouldn’t believe how much paring down even the wordier ones are subjected to.

But no matter. Harvey points out that this strip’s wordiness gets in the way of the art. The artwork certainly looks fine and engaging on my computer screen. And in the case of this particular strip, I simply didn’t want the visuals competing with the message.

Okay, so he isn’t fond of my “verbosity.” No problem. But next time I’m busy “emasculating” my strip, think about my biggest audience: MOMS.

Okay, I’m feeling off kilter. Why? Because for the first time ever, I’m so far ahead of my deadlines, I’m way out of sync with the strip’s timeline. I know, I know, this is a good thing. I much prefer the 4-month lead over scrambling to meet my deadlines. I can also double check strips with more objectivity closer to the publishing date. And I can now take trips and sick days without hyperventilating.

But does having a cartoon that reflects “real time” mean I shouldn’t be writing 40th birthday strips while I’m still 39 ½ (ok, technically 39 7/12)? Huh. Maybe that one’s because I’m just not prepared to think about that particular milestone yet.

Anyway, the point is I’m realizing that being too far ahead of the game can be a little counterproductive. It’s the winter holiday season and I’m writing spring break cartoons. It’s easier to think of spring-related ideas when it’s actually closer to spring. Also, my daughters’ personalities change like the wind, and I’d like to keep up with that in the strip.

BUT, given the choice, I’d take this cushion of time any day. I won’t give it up. I’ll probably try and maintain this 4-month lead and not get much farther ahead. So for now, I’ll just take a deep breath, relax and enjoy the status quo. Ahhhh.

Likewise, last week’s light-hearted story arc about Jill’s new haircut drew a similar (if more subdued) reaction. Folks wanted to know if I, too, got hacked. The answer is no. Often it’s just creative license.

But then there are real life occurrences that end up making it into print. Although I rarely write verbatim, documenting my realities in a humorous light can be pretty cathartic. For example, a few years ago I discovered (after months of driving my family nuts) that I had PMDD, or Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I needed to go on a mild antidepressant to ease the symptoms. I wrote a small story line based on my wariness about taking the drugs. Or an even better reality scenario: Rob’s vasectomy series (man, my husband’s a good sport).

Soon I’ll be developing another medical-based story line modeled after real events. Let’s just say it’s been a tough month. From my warped cartoonist’s mindset, a sane way to put closure on that episode is to expose it to the masses. If anything, to give myself a laugh. Hey, someone’s gotta be entertained, right?

I have control issues. There. I said it. In fact, I’m a bit of an obsessive/compulsive head case. Well, maybe not that bad. I don’t check five times in a row to make sure I locked the door or anything, but I’m a perfectionist and pretty orderly. I freak if my kids get below an A- on any given test, and I hate flying…for lack of control, of course. If I could compare my personality to that of anyone’s, it would be the character “Monica” from “Friends.” I even have her relentless cleaning tendencies. I stop at the competitiveness thing, though. Hey, I’m not crazy.

But I have to be especially careful around my kids. My husband already accepts my control-freakazoid personality, but I don’t want to be one of those overbearing helicopter parents. What I need is to find a happy medium — and with my genetics, that’s hard to achieve. I’ve already started doing what I swore I’d NEVER do…nag. I guess it’s unavoidable, though, as my kids need to hear everything at least 200 times before it sinks in.

Where I do draw the line is with art projects. I know it seems contrary to my profession, but I rarely take control here. I learned my lesson when my daughter’s first diorama started looking like an off-Broadway set (due to my art direction). My husband had to tell me to remove props. Better to leave the teaching to the experts. In fact, my kids are now in a weekend art class and, thankfully, love it. I remember my mother – an amazing painter – did the same thing with me and I thank her for that. I probably would’ve strangled her. As my kids would with me.

Many thanks to Justin Thompson and Stephan Pastis for our tour of the Schulz studios as well. It was an incredible experience.

*As a side note, it’s the first time I’ve EVER taken off more than 3-4 days at a time without feeling stressed. In other words, I’ve finally managed to work far enough ahead of my deadlines that I don’t hyperventilate over making up for lost work time. I can’t tell you what a relief that is. Now back to the drawing table…

The other excuse (at least, this month’s) is that I’ve got summer fever. In fact, I’m watching my kids play on our neighbor’s giant inflatable waterparkamathingamadoozy (an intricate series of water chutes and slides that costs more than all our furniture combined). They’re enjoying themselves, shouting, “Watch this, Mom!!” every 3.2 seconds as they hurl their lithe bodies on top of a dozen other lithe bodies (there are 15 kids total just within our four adjacent homes).

The shouting, fighting and pure glee makes me realize how as adults, we really do live vicariously through our kids. I have absolutely no urge to throw my half-naked self down a bouncy chute (although the image of all those bodies does weirdly make me think of ancient Grecian orgies)…yet, watching them experience this summer joy gives me such a “boring-adult” thrill.

Brings to mind a strip I did about 3 years ago. Our old neighbors had an inflatable bouncy castle they set up in their front yard. My kids would spy it as we pulled in our drive after a long day of preschool. This was the witching hour – that time of day the girls were tired and hungry…and so was I. I had to get home and start cooking. But all the kids wanted to do was raid the jumpy castle. My mistake was muttering, “Well, just for a few minutes.” Yeah, right. Enough said. Check out the product of that inspiration:
 

These days I’m thankful my girls are old enough to go on bouncy castles and watermathingies without constant supervision. I’m also thankful for portable laptops. And, of course, I’m thankful for the ability to relax and live vicariously through the young.

Peace out from one happy lager.

This one is close to my heart. I’ve come to realize that – despite its obvious advantages — working from home is extremely isolating. Before kids, I never thought I could do it. Thankfully, the benefits outweigh the disadvantages. But I do remember the first year of not having coworkers to share banter with…very hard to get used to. The service people that rang my doorbell knew to stay clear.

I threw this one in here because I was surprised by the enormous reaction to it. I love this strip…it’s one of those that hit home with so many women. I guess we all need to know that we’re not the only ones who lose it sometimes…or even more than sometimes.

Okay, this one I’m just plain embarrassed about. Turns out I made a huge grammatical error – and it took a couple of retired English teachers to point it out via email (separately, mind you). So…can you non-English/journalism majors spot the mistake?

The error is the word “amount.” Amount pertains to measurement. “Number” would’ve been the correct word since it pertains to numerical value. Did anyone else know this?? I claim pure ignorance and stupidity.

I’m always fascinated by the so-called mommy wars. I know there are judgmental types who stigmatize working moms or stay-at-home moms. But I wonder if this sort of battle is as prevalent as it may have once been.

My question is: is there anyone out there who regularly experiences this type of “discrimination”? I did (but not overtly) when my kids were much younger. Nowadays, I’m in my little cartoonist shell and don’t get out much, so I’m not really subjected to it anymore. Also, I think as women mature as mothers, we become a little more relaxed and open to different styles of parenting. We also become members of the “been there, done that” club, which mellows our outlook.  At least, that’s what I’ve observed with myself and friends. So…what do you think?

*Update: I have a fun (well, for me, anyway) story line coming out in July. Make sure your local paper doesn’t shut down before then!