Dammit. The little angel can read.

And if she can read, how can I leave this lying around?

I love you, Star magazine, but you've got to go for my daughter's mental health.

I started subscribing to Star magazine when I was going through a low period and needed to laugh at other people. There, I'll admit it. It was in the height of the Brad/Angie/Jennifer triangle, and I couldn't take my eyes off the celebrity gossip. I was up to three magazines a week at my lowest point. I actually subscribed to Star to save money at the grocery checkout line.

Initially, she saw it in the bathroom. But she couldn't read, so I just showed her the pictures of stars in pretty dresses and she would pick out which one she liked best. But now? She can read. And I know that means I can't expose her anymore to the world's obsession with people too fat or too thin, how bad we all look without make-up and who has cellulite on her butt. And don't even get me started on Lindsay Lohan.

I know better. I had an eating disorder that I attribute at least 35% to the girl in white jeans in Seventeen magazine's mini pad ads in the mid-eighties. I remember thinking I should look like that! I can't let that happen to my girl. I can't let her know there's a whole world out there just waiting for women to look bad so they can take a bunch of pictures and sell them to other women who need to feel better about themselves.

Um, like me.

And at this point, I don't need to feel better about myself anyway. In the past few years, the subscription has gone from a welcome relief to something that sort of bothers me. It should bother me a lot more than it does, but I like so many others have become conditioned to the misogyny of Star magazine and its icky brethren. I write all the time about feminism, but yet I like to relax. Suddenly, it doesn't seem like relaxing when I view the photos through her little eyes. I'm an adult. I know the difference. But she doesn't. Sure, they bag on K-Fed's gut, but most of all it's the women. Jennifer is pathetic and can't find love. Angelina is a ball-cupping bitch from hell who can't even get along with nice Missourians. Jessica is fat, then thin, then fat, then thin.

And we are all waiting for Britney or Lindsay to just end it already. It's literally a suicide watch.

And I know it's sick.

It was fun, back when I thought of celebrity gossip as eye candy for me. It's not fun now that I realize SHE CAN READ. And for God's sake, I don't want her to learn how the world treats celebrities just yet. She doesn't even know the Disney princesses don't really live at Disney World, let alone that they've all had Botox.

There are a lot of things that are less fun once your child can read. Blogging with cuss words. E-mail that she reads over my shoulder.

Parenting forces you to be a better person.

I'd like to keep my closeted subscription. I'd like to have my vices. I'd like to pretend it's all harmless fun.

But I know it's not, not if she reads it and thinks she, too, should be perfect in a way that no woman is perfect.

Parenting is hard. Goodbye, Star magazine. It was fun while it lasted.

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Read my review of Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs on Surrender, Dorothy: Reviews!

Hi, I'm Rita, and I like to exercise. 

There, I've said it.

I will actually create chores just so I can exercise while doing them. Which explains why I shoveled the back deck while it was still snowing yesterday.

I've been working out at least three times a week since I was 17 years old. I'm coming up on 20 years of jogging, elliptical machines, stairmasters, step aerobics, kickboxing and Jane Fonda. I did Buns of Steel. I did Tae Bo. I've seen beautiful people sweat near ocean backdrops to the Foo Fighters. I've run 5ks and some-more-ks, though I'm generally not fond of running and will never even try to do a marathon, because I happen to like my flat feet to remain attached to my body. I've run bleachers. I've climbed all the flights of stairs in my office building. I've attempted gymnastics, Pilates and the full fish pose.

And I'm so bored.

I'm bored with my workouts. I alternate between fighting the others for equipment at the tiny workout room sponsored by my housing association (for which I'm very thankful, trust me, but there are only six cardio machines for many, many, MANY people), doing exercise DVDs at home and shoveling snow.

This weekend, there were two bouts of snow shoveling and a trip to Tunnel Voyage (you try hauling your 35-year-old ass two stories up a McDonald's-Playland-style hamster tunnel for an hour and see how you feel). Also, I purchased myself some new workout DVDs and signed up for belly dancing aerobics. (Stay tuned for my month-long series to start on Thursdays this week.)(Here. At this blog.)(Because I feel like it, it's January, and I'm bored.)

I'm not going to review the DVDs, but suffice it to say none of them involve Jillian Michaels or her rock-hard abs. One is a crazy-intense-looking cardio tape and the other is a ballet workout. Ever since the little angel started ballet lessons, I've found myself longing for more leg strength. It would be truly awesome to be able to hold my leg out perpendicular from my body. Because then every time I had a bad day I could hold my leg out and be like YEAH, WORLD, BUT CAN  YOU DO THIS?

So I've done one of the ballet workouts. It consisted of floor barre and standing workouts. It is fortunate I took ballet in my childhood, because the very-fancy-sounding narrator never explained how to do any of the moves, all of which were described by their ballet names in French. And the mute dancers never explained them either or demonstrated them beforehand. Which is why I fell on my face once and nearly lost an eye to the TV console another time. However, after I was done, I realized I had that slow-burn yoga feeling and was genuinely very tired with a fast-beating heart, though I don't actually remember breaking a sweat. Weird.

We'll see if I can walk tomorrow, because it's supposed to snow again on Wednesday. I may have to dig myself out so I can make it to belly dancing.

I meant to write this post in advance of January 1 but instead opted to take a much needed break to enjoy downtime with family and friends. However, this week I'll hit the 1800 post mark at Boston Mamas -- a number that seems both arbitrary and momentous -- and it seemed fitting to peruse the 2009 archives and reflect on what happened this past year. So much of my life is set in the context of the work I put into Boston Mamas, and it truly is an honor to be here with you. I hope you enjoy this recap of my favorite posts and notable occurrences of 2009 and I wish you all a year full of joy and blessings and fantastic surprises!

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I love that in 2009 I was able to:

Harness the power of Twitter to create some very cool community-inspired posts, such as these about coping with kindergarten transitions and ideas for Halloween candy alternatives.

Continue sharing all sorts of cool eco-living finds, such as the adorable Dabbawalla lunch bags, all-in-one Citizenpip lunch kits, safe and colorful Piggy Paint nail polishes, magical Soapnuts, and a roundup of natural hair detanglers.

Celebrate life and passages by reflecting about my marriage, my dad, and my niece Alyssa.

Feature the amazing talents and voices of Jules Pieri, Melissa Roiter, Sarah Pike, Isabela Garcia, Mila Cole, Angelika Paul, Carol Fishman Cohen, and Tori Stuart through the Boston Mamas Rock! series. (Admittedly I am rather backlogged on nominations and need to get back on track with this series...)

Continue sharing super cool local leads that make me proud to be a Bostonian.

Develop new partnerships to offer readers additional coolness, such as discussion board functionality and a classifieds service.

Share interesting educational and developmental content, such as these tips on coping with separation, raising avid readers, finding math moments in everyday experiences, and negotiating sugar battles.

Find positive in the stress and frustration of the Boston.com Google debacle; most notably, the immense power of this community to enact change. I was so very moved by this experience.

Finally get to BlogHer.

Continue my philanthropic work by raising funds for the March for Babies and donating the written word via my role as a March of Dimes Mom.

Film a segment on giving more to relationships; a topic that I feel very passionate about.

Reflect on all things minimalist parenting (via my Shoestring Magazine column), such as parental purging strategies, six or less recipes, going back to school on a budget, and making the most of small spaces.

Share my passion for easy and yummy food, such as through recipes for granola, Korean mixed grill, pan seared tofu, banana bread/muffins, chocolate zucchini cake, apple crisp, and the best gingerbread people ever.

Interact with and learn from thoughtful and generous public figures such as Salma Hayek, Kimmie Meissner, Tanith Belbin & Ben Agosto, Suze Orman, Gary Hirshberg, and John Ondrasik.

Provide cool ideas for party inspiration, such as this outer space party, teddy bear tea party, and cooking party for kids.

Feature creative and beautiful ideas by my contributing writers; for example, vibrant last minute Easter egg dyes, clever custom window treatments, and this food explorer passport.

Celebrate Korean culture while offering ideas for teaching kids about other cultures.

Engage with amazing local small business owners and entrepreneurs via co-teaching Kirtsy/Microsoft Office Live's Hands on Small Business in Boston.

Share 15 fabulous guest posts through my Simplifying the Holidays guest blog series. I admire the talents of these bloggers so much, and many of the concepts translate beyond the holidays, such as these ideas for everyday philanthropy and shooting gorgeous photos, and this primer on CSAs.

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It also was a remarkable and humbling year for press and accolades. I was grateful and honored to be featured in so many fine media outlets this year.

Every year I have goals. As a mother. As a wife. As a citizen of the world. But I also think for a long time about my goals as a writer.

I know you may sigh and roll your eyes when I trot out that bullshit about having to write down your goals to make them come true, but, um, it's for real. If you don't write them down (or at least think them out well enough to write them down), then you can't break them down into steps that get your butt propelled in the right direction.

I have three major writing goals for 2010. Last year I had two. I accomplished my two last year, but having written them down made me break a cold sweat when I got to July and realized I was in danger of not kicking one out. Writing down those goals puts on a little pressure, even if nobody on God's green earth besides you cares if you accomplish them.

And probably, when it comes to writing goals, nobody but you DOES care. That's what makes it so easy to ignore them.

There were many years when I didn't have writing goals, and in those years, I barely wrote anything. Without something to work toward, writing itself felt like work, a pointless chore that nobody but me cared if I did.

I think my three goals for 2010 are achievable, but they'll require a lot of work. The second and third goal are harder than the first, because I need people besides myself to make them happen. Editors, publishers. That makes it tough. Especially with the publishing industry going through what it's going through. But I have to try -- trying is what makes me a writer and not a hobbyist. Not someone who would like to be a writer, but really never writes. That's what I was when I wasn't working toward writing goals.

Now I'm a writer.