Free Suburgatory by Linda Keenan

and Afghanistan. Had she heard of 9/11? “Now that is extremely insulting. In fact, 9/11 touched me close to home. I actually saw it happen. Live. They pre-empted Regis and Kelly for it. So just back off with the ‘hey-ignorant-Mommy’ line of questioning.” Arriving at the soccer field, she said, “Get in the van, Tommy. No. You’ve had enough ice cream. No. Now. ”
    But is she aware that the United States went on to fight two wars after that?
    â€œHere’s what I know. I know that we went into Afghanistan, found the smoking gun mushroom cloud WMDs, thank God, did that amazing rescue of that adorable blond soldier girl—poor little thing. Then Seal Team Six got al-Qaeda’s top guys—Saddam, bin Laden, Qaddafi. Then George W. Bush did that whole thing on the boat with the big We Won! sign, and Axles of Evil were finished. See? I know a little something about something besides Mommying.” She looked satisfied as she retrieved Sarah from her playdate. “Thanks, Mindy. Did she behave nicely, I hope?”
    As she headed to the store, this reporter told her that major combat did not end with the Mission Accomplished sign, and in fact had gone on for years, costing a trillion dollars. She was still quite dubious.
    â€œI haven’t seen Ken Burns do anything about it. I guess you’re going to tell me you know more than Ken Burns? You, some small-town suburban reporter? And if there were really two wars, wouldn’t I know someone who had gone? Hellooo! And wouldn’t every house have a flag out?” Not necessarily. Since the military is all volunteers these days, it attracts mostly lower- or middle-class recruits, and those who have no connection to those socioeconomic groups would be almost fully insulated from the impact of two wars.
    â€œSo I guess you’re asking, ‘Where’ve I been?’ Oh, I know, raising the future of America.”
    Did she want to know the number of American servicemen and women and civilians killed in the two wars?
    â€œYou know what?” she said, exasperated with the questions and all three of her kids yelling or throwing things across the minivan. “I’ve got my own army to worry about. Sorry. Priorities.”

    SHOUT OUT
    Toddler or Anchor: I Report, You Decide
    Linda Mendes is a former TV news producer turned stay-at-home mother who lives on Rice Street.

    I take to the Shout Out today because I know a lot of moms leave their jobs and think, “All I know how to do these days is wipe a baby’s ass and listen to a baby scream!” Well, I’m here to tell you that if you can handle that, you can handle a challenging career in TV news! Getting both crapped on and screamed at by anchor babies is what it’s all about.
    OK, I exaggerate. An anchor never did literally crap on me, as my son did many times. But metaphorically, yes, my friends and I were crapped on with alarming regularity.
    So here’s a ten-part puzzler for those moms out there who don’t think they have what it takes to work in TV news. Trust me, after dealing with a child, you probably have the chops, as you will soon see. So, am I describing my toddler or one of the many anchors (or reporters) I’ve worked for or worked around or heard about from colleagues over the years? I report, you decide.

    Question #1. This person broke wind, frequently, loudly, shamelessly. This person also, how might I put this delicately, often mined for the mother lode, usually at the same time as the aforementioned wind-breaking. Toddler or Anchor?
    Answer: Anchor. At least my tiny boy had some shame. Frank would tell the lunch crowd at Applebee’s, “Excuse me, I farted.” This particular anchor just said “Welcome back to the show!” And my toddler, mercifully, lacked the fine motor skills to flagrantly pick his nose. This two-fer of anchor farting and picking would happen during commercial breaks, eliciting a chorus