Wednesday, March 30, 2011

DRuG oF CHoiCe

Society frowns upon giving your four year old a beer, or allowing your twelve year old to bring hash brownies in for snack, but we missed an epidemic which is far worse than crack and heroin, IMO.

I am talking, of course, about Girl Scout Cookies.


One day you're ordering 44 extra boxes so that your kid can get their badge because you were too lazy to take her around door to door, next minute you find yourself staring into the freezer at 3 am looking for a sleeve of frozen Thin Mints.

You hide your Samoas in your closet, and then give your children stale pretzels in their lunchboxes because you can't bare to share your stash.

Your husband finds you curled up one evening stroking a box of TagALongs and calling it "My Precious."


You hit bottom when you have Lemon Chalet Cremes for breakfast and actually enjoy them. Everybody has to get together in a room with a guy who will tell you "I see a lot of people here today who love you a bunch" while your weeping child says "Will you accept the help that is offered to you today?' But you can't answer. Because your mouth is full.


I can stop anytime. Really.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Prayers for Japan



Full proceeds from the sale of this poster by FIELDTRIP on Etsy will go to disaster relief.

Wake of disaster,
Lost souls of the Japanese
Petals on water

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Erin Go Bra-less






I really hate living in New York City two days out of every year. The first is on New Years Eve, and the second is Saint Patrick's Day. You'd think I'd be a huge fan of these holidays and their accompanying drunken debauchery, but instead I like to pull the shades and wait for them to pass like a bad storm. A bad storm that sings Danny Boy at the top of their lungs until about 2 AM in the morning.

One Saint Patrick's Day long ago when Sexy Husband O Mine and I lived on the Upper East Side, we were returning from someplace in the evening in our little car and turned the corner onto 85th street just as a drunken figure stumbled out into the crosswalk and into our path. As SHOM hit the brakes, the swaying figure reached behind him and pulled out a revolver and aimed it at our windshield. It was an off duty policeman, and we were driving through a vortex of Irish bars on the Upper East Side, where many an Irish cop went to celebrate after marching in the parade.



We didn't die. I think he stumbled to the other side of the street and threw up in the corner mailbox.

Anyway, Happy Drink Green Beer Til You Get Stupid Day.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Complicated Boy is TEN

My Darling Boy- you are TEN today. ( Hmmmm... maybe it's about time Mommy lost the baby weight.)

Ten Things about You, at Age Ten...



1. As you get older, I see more of your handsome father in you every day. You are slender and tall and coltish, and often mistaken for Justin Beiber. You are very particular about what you wear, and you spend a lot of time in front of the mirror. According to you, the one hair you have out of place absolutely "ruined" your class picture this year. You are obsessed with sneakers.

2. You are an amazing artist with an ironic sense of humor. For example, you just recently did a portrait of the rapper Lil Wayne as Bruce Lil Wayne. You are really, really, really talented and I would say that even if I were not your mother, but since I am, I added the extra really.

3. You have made your Father's greatest dreams come true by asking him to play catch with you and watching sports with him. One day he will teach you to play golf and his cup will overfloweth. And speaking of cups--when you got your first athletic cup for baseball last summer, you wanted to sleep in it that night. And wear it to school the next day. In fact, I had to take that cup and hide it from you because I thought you were becoming too attached to it. (I have no idea where I hid it but will find it before your next game.)


4. You can be really mean to your sister sometimes, and like to correct her behavior and boss her around--but the minute you hear someone has teased her you rush to her defense, and the second she gets hurt you never fail to put your arms around her and offer comfort.


5. You still believe in Santa.

6. You can do the moonwalk. You are an incredible dancer. When the school hired a special NYC professional dance company to come in and teach Salsa, you led the entire class and were their star pupil. In the last talent show you performed a solo combination of intricate moves that brought the house down. Then your report card came home and your school dance teacher gave you a D in dance because you had trouble paying attention in class. I hope you will still keep dancing.



7. You are great at math. Despite the fact that they have taught you to do it in the most complicated way possible, and when I try to show you things like stacking you often flounce from the table and have to be gently talked around to trying it a new way. You are in fourth grade now. I'm worried I won't be able to keep up with you that much longer. I'm pretty much done after long division.

8. This year you like a shy little girl who wears glasses and likes to read. You learned the hard lesson that when you tell a confidant that you have a Secret Crush on a girl - and not to tell anyone - that sometimes that friend won't be able to keep that secret. Really, the only person you can trust is me. But I can't promise I won't sell your darkest secrets out to your Grandparents after a few glasses of wine...or blog about it to a couple of hundred strangers.

9. You used to be afraid of sleeping away from us. Then you went camping with your class in the woods upstate for two days and had the time of your life. This year we will have 16 of your classmates over for a slumber party. I think I liked it better when you had a fear of clowns and we addressed it by hiring Silly Billy to make hats out of balloons one afternoon.



10. You are honest, kind, caring, and tender hearted. You still put your hand into mine when we cross the street, although lately your method of giving kisses is to tilt your head in towards me--so that you bump me with your forehead and no lips are involved. You tell us that you want to live with us forever. You get angry if I leave and don't hug you goodbye.You are still complicated, but we wouldn't have it any other way. You have filled the last ten years of our lives with so much joy my precious boy. You are my heart.

Happy Birthday

Friday, March 11, 2011

UVWXYZ




Yes Chickens--it DOES take almost 365 days to blog 26 little letters. But here we have arrived at the end at last. O sure--we could draw this out-- we all know that U and V stand for some pretty fun things usually kept in the bedside table, but why prolong this torture? Let's just End It Now. Like Old Yeller. I am putting this alphabet down.

U is for UNDERWEAR. I hate the saying "Put your Big Girl panties on and deal with it." I have never NOT had my Big Girl Panties on, and I don't remember them being particularly helpful when faced with a life challenge. Now if I could find an XXL set of Wonder Woman Underoos--THAT might help me in my day to day struggles with evil geniuses, etc. But my Big Girl panties don't do much for me other than bunch up at inconvenient times.



V is for VIOLIN. Santa brought Banana a violin last Christmas. Santa should be fired. Water boarding is not torture. Torture is hearing a seven year old play Twinkle Twinkle thirty times in a row, one note at a time, draggggging the bowwww slowwwwwwwly across the strings...twinnnnnnnnnkkkkkkkkkklllllllllllleeeeeeee, twinnnnnnkkkkkkkllllllleeeee. Mama is asking for a refill for her Xanax prescription next Christmas.





W is Wednesday. It took me forever to learn how to spell that dern day when I was in Elementary school. It was like Wednesday and February were specifically invented to screw you up.



X is for Xanax. You know...so you can smile while Twinkle Twinkle starts again in the other room.




Y is for Yodels. I never really could decide if I liked them better than Ring Dings. But I do know they both used to come wrapped in shiny silver paper and you could make a fine looking ring if you licked all the chocolate out of them and folded it just right. In the 2nd grade, I traded a Ring Ding to get a look at Gregory Nelson's Yodel. He was a small African American boy and I remember never looking at a Tootsie Roll the same way after.




Z is for Zzzzzzzz. Although Lord knows why the heck it's not for Xanax. The world just doesn't make sense some days.







And now you know my ABCs. Next time- won't you blog with me?

Thursday, March 10, 2011

T is For....

Sometimes you just have to step away from the computer and reconnect with old friends. And by old friends, I mean the television.




I don't watch a lot of television. But I do have great appreciation for it as an electronic babysitter. I will be forever grateful to those folks at Nickelodian and Disney who have freed me from entertaining The Spawn so that I could get drunk work.

Sometimes if I am facing a really challenging personal crisis I like to think: "What would I do in this situation if I was on Reality TV?" It makes the subsequent hissy fit extra dramatic.



This summer we took several road trips that lead us to the land of rocking chairs, retail, and delicious food--otherwise known as Cracker Barrel. I love Cracker Barrel. Seriously. Love. Them. Because if you eat too much at lunch you can just pop right out into the storefront and buy a bigger pair of pants.



They also sell vintage television programs on DVD. And when they are trapped in the car, The Spawn are at the mercy of whatever disc I pop into the DVD player-which is how I forced them to sit through Season One of Gilligans Island. Which lead to questions like "Why does Ginger have so many gowns when the tour was only three hours?", and " If they're so rich, how come the Thurston Howells didn't have a private yacht?", and "If they could figure out how to make a radio from a coconut how come they couldn't figure out how to build a boat." Same questions we asked ourselves way back when. You know, when you were thinking about something other than the Professor and Mary Anne possibly hooking up.

So far, The Spawn has become well versed in the lore of
- I Dream of Jeannie
- Bewitched
- Adams Family
- Mork and Mindy
- Brady Bunch
- Partridge Family
- Andy Griffith
- Donny and Marie
- Sonny and Cher
- Happy Days
We tried Little House on the Prairie but but Complicated Boy could not handle the level of rustic angst so we shelved that one for now.




I like the older television shows with a lesson. It almost makes me feel like I have sent the kids to church when I hear them repeat a major ethical statement like; "DON'T PLAY BALL IN THE HOUSE." I am letting Mike Brady morally guide my children.



My kids are gonna grow up SMART. One of these days, they may even figure out that the monster that Scooby and the Gang encounter each and every episode is really a hoax. Right now they seem genuinely surprised each time the mask is pulled off and it turns out to be the museum owner or the carnival operator. But that might be because they have still to question the fact that Scooby can talk. Like, Zoinks Scoob. Wait til they find out that later he gets a nephew.

Friday, March 04, 2011

S is for Sara's SALE




While I enjoy shopping for others, it is rare that I treat myself to anything special. I buy shoes once every three years, for example, winter coats every five, boots every decade. Sometimes I wait so long to buy something new that the old one comes back in style again. But this winter I totally spoiled myself with an essential piece of winter wardrobe: a really warm, wonderful hat. I purchased my hat from Etsy sellers Rocks and Salt. I met these two fabulous Brooklyn based hat makers- Sara and Phil- at the Union Square Christmas Market and would have purchased said hat even if Phil, who looks a bit like a thinner Harry Hamlin, hadn't told me I looked pretty in it. Actually, now that I think of it, he didn't. Hmmm. If he had I might have bought two. But I digress.

These handmade hats are the warmest, most comfortable, hats you will ever own. Made with fabulous fabrics they are lightweight but so toasty with absolutely zero itch factor.



Another great thing about these is that even if you are old like me, you can feel that you are younger and hipper! Yes--these hats do everything that wine does on a Saturday night but with zero hangover.




Here's the big news: Today- March 4- there is a 40% sale going on in honor of Sara's birthday. So let your fingers do the running right over to their shop to pick up an incredible chapeau or super cool skirt. Your head will thank you!