Issue link: http://southshoremagazine.uberflip.com/i/543152
35 TheSouthShoreMagazine.com Erica Ford originally started her blog Mommy Klatch in order to cope with trading her life as a Boston lawyer for life as a stay-at- home mom in rural California. Her book Scotch Tape is Cheaper than Botox is a collection of articles covering everything from Industrial Revolution baby names, to yoga pant underwear etiquette, to how to decorate with antelope heads. Erica's writing has been featured in The Huffington Post, the New York Times, Blogher.com, South Shore Magazine, and several diaries with kittens on them. Erica writes for Happify.com and Bundoo. com, and is the co-host of South Shore Live! on Boston radio WATD. She returned to Boston because she missed the nautical decor. Erica completed her undergraduate degree at the University of Michigan and received her law degree from Boston College. The highlight of Erica's life besides her three children was when she read her writing onstage with Oprah Winfrey at the Life You Want Conference in 2014. "This looks disgusting," my oldest said, poking at the rubbery masses skeptically. "It's not healthy." "Yes it is! It's full of protein. And I gave you orange juice, too." "This doesn't taste like orange juice!" "Right. It's Tang. They break down the orange juice into its most nutritious parts, so it's even better for you than orange juice! They add extra chemistry-things you can't find in regular food. Astronauts drink Tang to keep healthy on the moon. Think how healthy that must be!" My little one went to the bathroom and immediately started bawling. "My pee is green!" I went in and looked. "Wow! You're peeing out your blue raspberry Slurpee! Yellow and blue make green, get it? I always told you science was fun. It's the first day of summer and you're still learning. That's my girl." After my kids built an impressive Velveeta and bologna sculpture that resembled a melting pagoda, I told them to play outside. "We can't! The lawn fertilizer guy is here." "So what?" "You always say have to wait a few days before we can go on the lawn!" "What on earth are you talking about? He's just spraying with a hose. You play in sprinklers right? What's the difference? Go. Play. Skip. Do that log roll thing." Apprehensively, they started for the door. "Wait!" I called. "You can't go out in the sun before I grease you up." I grabbed a bottle of baby oil and covered every inch of their exposed skin. "This will help you get tanner. Have fun!" After two minutes, they came back in the house. "You're in or you're out!" I hollered. "We're bored," they said. "Go play Jarts!" "What are Jarts?" "The red and blue dart things in the garage." "The big spears? I thought those were from dad's tool box." "No! It's a game! You throw them. The higher the better. Go find some friends to play with. If you see any clowns in trench coats, or teenagers trying to give you free "stickers," run home and tell me. Otherwise, don't come back until dinner." "But no friends are around, Mom! Everyone is at hockey camp. Or math camp. Or Lego camp. Or rock-climbing camp. Or spelunking camp. Or…" "Nonsense," I said. "Who sends their kid to dumb camps like that? Who can't play Legos in their own darn basement? Go find some friends. Go into a different neighborhood if you have to. Or check the woods. There are always kids in there. Do you want me to pack you some peanut butter sandwiches you can share with everyone?" "Mom, I'm allergic to peanuts," said my oldest. "Don't get smart with me or else no candy cigarettes all summer. No one's allergic to peanuts! Now shoo." I locked the doors, grabbed a bag of Combos, and put on Donahue. As I practiced blowing smoke rings around my Tab can, I thought how those articles were totally right: there ain't no summer like a Gen-X summer.