Sleep Is So 2009...

Never Have I Ever...

2015-02-06T14:36:00.003-05:00

... been sobbing all over myself watching a newscast or Youtube video about a family suffering a devastating hardship but powering through in a really inspiring way, then turned around and got super annoyed when my great, healthy kid asks me to get some juice or a give him a hug because he is interrupting my moment.

Happy Friday!

Don't be fooled! I am sure he was driving me crazy!

Cinderella is real, dammit! And she lives in New Hampshire!

2015-02-04T17:37:00.001-05:00

So at dinner tonight, Bink looked a little worried.

"Mom. We need to get to the bottom of this. Is there a monster stealing my juice?"

First, ??

Second, this girl is serious. She is not messing around so obviously I cannot mess around, either. I look at her very solemnly and tell her that I have a VERY big secret. Intrigued, she leans in, and I say in a low voice, ducking around the pasta that Baby Boy is throwing at us...

"I think you are old enough to handle this. Monsters. Are. Not. Real. They're not real! They come from the imaginations of people who write books and stories and they are never real. So there is nothing to worry about!"

Relieved, Bink thinks about this and says:

"So who's at Disney?"

Hmm... I wasn't sure if I should tell her that these were just people dressed up, because where does that leave Minnie and Mickey? And what about the princesses? Will I ruin her sense of wonder and whimsy before she starts kindergarten?! Am I overthinking this? Of course I am!

"I don't know."

She is satisfied with this, but keeps going.

"So Cinderella... where does Cinderella live? Mommy, I know where she lives so ask me where she lives."

"Where does she live? Disney?" (Ask and answer...)

"Oh, no, Mommy! I know Cinderella... I met her last year. She lives in New Hampshire!" Bink says triumphantly, and goes back to eating her waffle.

Last summer, we went to Storyland and Bink met her new best friend, Cinderella. As you can see, it was huge.

"Oh, so -"

"Mommy, I'm eating. Why don't we discuss this later?"

I can't figure out who's smarter, but have a definite feeling that she's already lapped me...

Photographic evidence Mom is clueless...

And It's Only Tuesday?!

2015-02-03T17:50:00.001-05:00

While Bink was at ballet this afternoon Bubba and I went to the grocery store to replenish what I thought was our unending stockpile of frozen waffles and American cheese. We picked her up after class and went home, and I brought the kids inside first, with a couple of things, then went back downstairs and out to the car to get the rest of the bags. I come back and start putting everything away and as I am doing this, I think to myself "I had more tomatoes, right?" but then kept going.

Foreshadowing...

So I'm putting everything in the freezer, thinking I am very together because I had cleaned all of the old hair and dried jelly out of the fridge this morning, when Bubba comes stumbling into the kitchen, covered in red goo.

WERE YOU STABBED?! DID YOU THROW UP?! BABY, COME TO MOMMY!!

He comes closer and I see that he is covered head to toe in used cherry tomato. With a sinking feeling, I walk past him into the playroom...

And it looks like a crime scene.

Baby Boy stole a carton of tomatoes out of a grocery bag, dumped it out on the rug, and proceeded to stomp on or squish every single tomato into the couch. And of course, he is standing there with a sh!t-eating grin on his face, loving every second.

The blood is pounding in my ears. I adopt my best Norman Bates voice (the one I take on when I am really, really about to lose it) and send him to timeout. Instead, he goes into the shoe closet, sits on the floor and dramatically fake snores while posing at himself in the mirror.

Note: tomatoes are sticky and disgusting but come out of carpet and couch fairly easily.

Obviously, I am all done for today.

Snakes!

2014-06-12T15:04:00.002-04:00

Seriously, we may have to move. I feel like I've said this before, but this time I mean it.

We have a snake. In the yard. That slithers. Through. The GRASS.

Unacceptable. And terrifying. Let me explain how bad this is...

Okay, so Bink and Bubba and I are playing in the yard. I am generally a barefoot girl and Bink is, too so we never wear shoes when we go outside (I know, that is how parasites attack your feet and get into your bloodstream and ultimately cause your demise BUT I have heard that parasites are an awesome weight loss technique so I'm willing to risk it)...

(Cue the Jaws music)

And we are running around, being princesses (obviously, what else would we be doing? Our taxes?) and I happen to glance down...

(da DA da DA da DA)

AND THERE IS A GIANT BLACK SNAKE SLITHERING THROUGH THE GRASS TWO INCHES FROM BINK'S FEET! AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, MINE!!

I tell her to run for her life! She tells me I am a goosehead! I pull her out of harms way, run her up the stairs and dramatically into the house. She doesn't thank me for this, rather, she tells me that she wants to stay outside because the snake is nice, and there is nothing to be scared of.

Nothing to be scared of??? This is a legit picture of a random snake I found that is not one third as scary as the snake in our yard:

(Okay, I found MANY pictures of snakes that were really, really scary and scared me too much to post. So here's one that isn't so bad)

If only our snake was this sassy.

Guilt

2014-04-14T13:16:00.000-04:00

Today we went to the playground with a bunch of Bink's little friends. It's the nicest day of the year and while Bink does not overly love the playground, I thought she would love to see her friends outside of preschool, run around a bit, and enjoy herself.

Well, she did not. She spent the entire time clinging to my leg, whining, eating goldfish and interrupting the other mothers. I reprimanded her about 599 times, and she shook her finger at me but kept her mouth shut.

Until the final time, when she hit me in the face.

It was not a real hit, it is the kind of hit that Bink (and probably other kids) do that is very light, so it doesn't actually hurt, and she can pretend it isn't a hit, but she still means it as a hit, so it counts.

So I picked her up and took her home immediately. Of course at this point she was having a full-on meltdown, but I brought her to the car anyway and we came home. She was screaming, crying, shaking her finger, the whole thing. I asked her why she thought we left, and she said that she didn't know, of course, but then we talked about what she did and she apologized and howled some more.

And then my anger dissipated, and I started to feel BADLY.

Like, so badly I have a heavy feeling in my chest. I made her cry. I took her away from her friends. And I know she cares not at all now, an hour later, but I feel like junk. And if someone told me this, I would tell that person that of course they should not feel badly, that kids have to learn and sometimes you have to do things that suck to get your point across.

But I still feel guilty.

What would you have done? What have you done in situations like this? I don't know if there is a middle ground, where we could have stayed and she would have understood the ramifications of what she did. Is there? She's a really good girl so I don't want to make a mountain out of a molehill, but hitting is a mountain, isn't it?

Tell me what you would do and stop me from eating bagged shredded cheese while sobbing in the fetal position on the bathroom floor.

Things I Said Today

2014-04-02T09:02:00.002-04:00

I have literally said all of these things in the last 24 hours.

We do not show our bums in Target.

We have been in Target 20 minutes. I am not making a third trip to the bathroom. We are going home.

I don't care what I said, you cannot call your doll LaFawnduh Throwup Fabulous.

You may call it a magina.

It's probably not poop, but wash your hands, just in case.

I know, it drives me nuts when bears break into our house at night and eat our hair, too. But we're not moving to the backyard.

I love you a million billion, too!

And most touching of all:

The small beer, please. I have to get back to preschool.

The Best Website Ever and Why My Son Will Probably Ask His Algebra Teacher to the Prom

2014-03-17T06:27:00.000-04:00

You are all welcome. Well, if you have junky sleeping babies. This is literally a life-changer.

www.troublesometots.com

Um, why isn't this woman running the country? The universe? I'm serious. She is literally solving Baby Boy's sleep issues without incident and it makes TOTAL sense. Here is what I took away from it:

So Bubba is 7 months old and goes down to sleep very easily, but then wakes up and SCREAMS bloody murder for hours. I have been putting him down on the bottle, with a pacifier, so he falls asleep on me, with something in his mouth, and then wakes up in a different spot, with nothing in his mouth, and freaks out. Well, yeah, that makes sense. It would probably freak me out, too. But did I think of that? No. Her brilliancy did, so I switched it up: bottle, bath, book and bed. And I gave him a lovey, which I never did because Bink never really attached to anything. I put him down awake at 7:30. He cried for exactly 35 seconds, and made not a peep until 5:15.

Yeah.

And she recommends the mom carrying around the lovey for a while so it smells like you. Well, I didn't feel like doing that so in the afternoon I went into his room and sprayed my perfume on his sheet and his toy. I wear Dior Addict. It's not exactly a "baby" scent. So when he's 16 years old and wondering why he's innately drawn to the musky florals and heady Orientals that emanate from the old women working in the library, I will say not a word. And you'd better not, either.

Of course that whole situation is bunk, because he's obviously taking ME to the prom, as nobody will ever, ever love him as much as I do. And then when we share a dorm room at his college of choice, I'll spray his room down every night with my old lady perfume and we'll read "The Teddy Bears Picnic"...

I know, but I can't help it. So that excuses it. Sucka!

My Daughter is Calling Me by my First Name and Baby Boy is Mad at Me

2014-03-13T08:15:00.000-04:00

I tough loved Baby Boy last night.

He will sleep 12 hours one night and the next be up at midnight for the day and this is NOT okay.

So last night he woke up at one. I rocked him and put him back down. And he SCREAMED and cried like I threw out Leo, his monkey (I didn't). And so I had two choices. I could go get him again or I could let him cry.

I let him cry.

I shut the door. I shut my door. I turned up the TV (sorry, Husband) and just went to sleep.

At 7:00 this morning, he was sitting calmly in his crib when I went to check on him. Usually, it's Christmas morning, the Lilly Pulitzer sale and a party sub rolled into one when I come in. Today, NOTHING. He was Somber Sam and would not smile at me. He smiled at Bink. He smiled at Husband. But I got a very serious face and then he POINTEDLY looked away. Like, totally on purpose.

So obviously I stood on my head, tickling him, bouncing him, anything I could think of and he seriously wouldn't look at me! He knows what I did and he is so disappointed in me that he can't even make eye contact. Hopefully, when I give him his applesauce and puffs he'll forgive me, but right now it's the full-on Deep Freeze.

Remember the episode of Friends when Rachel goes to the airport to talk to Ross about how he's in love with her but the flight attendant tells that random guy instead? And he says to his wife, "Don't give me that deep freeze!"? This is the current situation. Except worse. 18 pounds of pure disgust. It's tragic.

And Bink has taken to calling me by my first name. Or "Maw", like she is some old-timey cowboy.

Okay, time to get back to my furious baby...

Dealing with Mom Fails...

2014-03-10T11:32:00.003-04:00

I really hate being someone who thinks that if something good happens and you talk about it, it gets ruined.

You know where this is going!

How do you do it? I feel like the morning was all downhill - Baby Boy won't nap, Bink is driving me nuts, I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm sick of the bad weather, I just want to go to sleep until it's 60 degrees everyday. It's a total Mom Fail day. I can't get out of my head that I'm not doing a good job and I'm probably taking it out on the kids by needing time away and having a shorter fuse than normal.

I know that taking time for yourself is NOT a bad thing, it is necessary, so maybe I should just shut my trap, give myself 20 minutes and hit the reset button. That's actually probably a really good idea. You guys are so smart!

How do you deal with Mom Fails? None of us are failing, but you know what I mean, when you feel like you just can't get anything right and want to hide, what do you do?

Monday Momrotica

2014-03-10T07:44:00.000-04:00

It is 7:39 and my kids are still sleeping. Um, wow. I love daylight savings.

Even though it is snowing right now and that is totally depressing, this weekend it was sort of warm and we got to go outside and do the things that Bink loves - specifically, looking at animals and talking to them, and then demanding to know why they aren't talking back to her. We MAY watch a bit too much TV.

I put away my Ugg boots. I'm sick of them and I never want to wear them again. Which is why it's snowing now, I'm so, so sorry.

The husband WANTED to get subs yesterday! I am generally alone in my desire for giant sandwiches, so this was huge. Also, the place had DELICIOUS mozzarella sticks, like, the best I ever had. Oh, fried cheese.

Attacking the Gwyneth Paltrow cookbook again this week. I know it's so very cliche, but I adore her and secretly think I am her (what!?) and actually her cookbook "It's All Good" is well, all good. Everything is pretty easy (I substitute the weirdo stuff with normal stuff and it's still delicious) and I guess healthy.

Kids are up, jinxed it! Next we'll talk about Mini Eggs. Um, yeah. Spoiler: Eh...

Things I'm Too Old for Thursday

2014-03-07T09:53:00.000-05:00

1. Getting the day right. I know it's Friday.
2. Katy Perry and John Mayer breaking up. Why do I care?
Exhibit A:

Stop. She is awesome. I adore her.

Exhibit B: I invented John Mayer. Fine, MAYBE I didn't, except I totally did. In 2001, 2002 or 2003 - whenever he only had that one song out - my friends and I saw him open up for the Counting Crows and he was actually super funny and cool. I think now he probably isn't, because he has broken up with girls who seem awesome, but what do I know? Well, I know that 10 to 13 years ago, before he was famous, he was funny and put on a good show. And you know what song I LOOOOVE? "Gravity." It reminds me of cocktail hour at a wedding.

3. Wanting to see Frozen. Like, I am seriously debating buying it OnDemand before it comes out, even though we'd end up buying the discs anyway because we don't have any of those "devices" that you can, like, link up or whatever, so we can watch it right now. I mean, seriously - Veronica Mars and Rachel Berry's mom? Come ON.

4. Thinking Cadbury Eggs are delicious. Because they are not. They are, in fact, DISGUSTING. So last year, I was pregnant and unable to eat, well, food, so I missed out on the Easter stash. So my mom got us some Creme Eggs, and I was SO excited. Until I took a bite and spit it out. Yes, I do spit out things I don't like, you wanna fight about it? Anyway, it was totally awful and I hate them now. They used to be my playground, they used to be my childhood dream, but now they are my nightmare. They are gross.

What are you too old for?

STOP THE PRESSES! BREAKING: BABY SLEEPS!!

2014-03-04T07:30:00.002-05:00

He.

Slept.

He slept he slept he slept he slept!!

The coffee I am currently drinking is purely recreational.

There are cartoon birds brushing Bink's and my hair.

Baby Boy is smiling and has no black circles under his eyes.

I put him in at 8. He woke up SOAKED (shame on me for saying Luvs never leak, but he has literally never woken up wet before) at 2:00 so I changed him and put him in his carseat.

He slept until 6:30.

I love this baby so much.

Best Commercial Ever

2014-03-04T07:27:00.001-05:00

Sometimes commercials just get to you and change your life. They alter a generation irrevocably, never to be the same. If you grew up in the New England area in the 1980's, you will totally know who "Chow Daddy" is. If anyone can find this commercial I will give you a million dollars OR say thank you. We've discussed how awesome the Tropicana Robert Loggia commercial is, and guess what? It's STILL awesome. Anyway, those are the classics, here's a new one to be obsessed with.

It reunites Uncle Jesse, Danny Tanner and Joey Gladstone. I really, really hope you've seen it because otherwise we've got nothing to talk about. Kidding. We can talk about Saved by the Bell, too.

Seriously, have you seen this? I had a conniption when I did, I was that excited. Also let's talk about how Bob Saget is totally FILTHY and it's amazing.

For your viewing pleasure...

Second Time Around... Not Just a Wedding Song Anymore...

2014-03-03T06:22:00.000-05:00

Do you know this song? This is a really good song.

My college bestie is having twins (and the other one is getting married this year - are these the little girls I carried??) and I was thinking about what I learned the second time around that I was definitely too overwhelmed to realize during Bink's first year. What did you learn with your second, or what did you wish you knew after your first was out of the baby phase? Here is my list, so far:

Pampers are awesome. Awesome. But once you have to start paying for them yourself, Luvs or Up and Up work just fine.

Speaking of, getting a Target debit card is huge if that is where you shop. Free shipping on everything and 5% off? They're also usually the cheapest for formula and often do a gift card if you buy a certain amount.

Ebates is very key, as you can use the money you save buying junk for your kids on junk for yourself.

For us, Dr. Brown's bottles were the only ones that worked. I spent a lot of money on many different bottles that Bink just wouldn't take and then BAM! Dr. Brown's fixed everything. Of course this is super specific and every kid is different but it was a pain in the butt so I just wanted to throw this out there.

It's okay if the kitchen is dirty. It's okay if everything is dirty.

Babies are out to destroy you, so make sure your partner is on board with this. It's us against them and the sooner you realize that, the better.

How you feed your baby is a personal choice. PERSONAL.

Pajamas without feet are useless for teeny tinies with freezing toes and baby socks don't stay on. Get the footies.

That's my list for now, I think. What have you got?

I'll Never Buy Wine at Trader's Again... My Fault, NOT Theirs

2014-02-28T06:26:00.001-05:00

Ah, a topic everyone can relate to - wine. I'm drunk as we speak! Kidding. I mean, I'm drinking, but I won't get drunk for a while. Actually, I've felt drunk all week even though I've only been drunk part of the week. Anyway, Bink was at preschool and of course I did what any red-blooded American would do - went straight to Trader Joe's for peanut butter crackers and wine.

I had Baby Boy in the big part of the carriage in his car seat, so that pretty severely limited the space I had to put my impending purchases (you know where this is going, don't you?). I made do, buying the crackers I needed and the 49580 things I didn't, but cannot pass up because it's Trader Joe's, where holding back is impossible, and then made my way to the wine section.

I have been buying slightly nicer wine since Baby Boy was born since I get up with him and if I drink junky wine, I get a hangover really easily, and I have found one that I looooooooove and want to marry and have ten thousand of its babies. It's called The Stump Jump and it is so good. It's a shiraz, and if you want something that costs like ten bucks and is awesome, I highly recommend it. But I always like to try new things, so I went around, picking out a few bottles that I haven't tried yet, and then went over to The Stump Jump.

And all of the wine and hummus and cheese and crackers and everything else I picked up fell out of the cart and smashed into a bajillion pieces.

BAJILLION.

And it was so loud and there was glass EVERYWHERE and red wine and hummus all over the place (the hummus containers totally busted open and it was disgusting) and it legit looked like a crime scene. And while I do fancy myself a bit of a Rizzoli or Isles, I was moooooortified.

And then the swarm came in.

The swarm of super nice TJ employees who told me not to worry about it, to keep shopping and they would go get me replacements of all of the things that I broke, to stay with the baby (who was still sleeping, thank goodness, if he had started crying I think I would have lost it) and not to worry, it happens all the time and nobody cares.

So of course I did what anyone else would do. I hid. And my face was burning hot and my cart was, like, empty, and I didn't know what to do. And then the super nice TJ's employee who was tasked with replacing my broken items FOUND me and was like "oh, there you are! Here are your millions of random grocery items!" He was SO nice and I was then of course even more embarrassed because I was, like, crouched in a corner when he approached me.

I thanked him, probably cried a little because I'm a baby, and ran to the register.

And could not get my Stump Jump because CSU was still processing the scene RIGHT in front of that part of the display. So I got some other stuff, but it's not the same. And I can never show my face at Trader's again until the next time I go.

Moral of the story: Trader Joe's is fabulous. I am a moron. And peanut butter crackers are awesome.

Officially Out of Ideas

2014-02-28T06:19:00.000-05:00

He was up at 3:00, screaming. I got him at 4:45. He didn't want to eat, he wasn't wet, he just wanted to hug. And while I appreciated the sentiment, I'd prefer this outpouring of love at, say, 8:00 a.m.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I dressed him like a fancy lad.

I think I'm losing it. Just a bit.

All Right, Stop What You're Doin, Cause I'm About to Ruin... My Kid. Crap.

2014-02-27T05:54:00.001-05:00

Did you know that Humpty Hump/Shock G is like a REALLY accomplished musician and producer? I did not. Do you think he's wearing the nose? Right now?

Anyway, I broke my kid. Here's the deal. Baby Boy was "sleeping" through the night - going to bed perfectly, sleeping, yelling but I wasn't getting him, but then getting up at 4:50. I don't know what it is, but if he had slept 20 more minutes, even 15, I would be okay. Getting up before 5 is BRUTAL. It destroys your soul. Studies have shown it. Well, the study I have conducted on myself in my house over the past 2 weeks, anyway. So last night, he started SCREAMING at 2:55. I broke down and gave him a bottle, which I had stopped doing, gave him a bottle, he sucked it down, fell asleep, and proceeded to scream until 5:13 when I finally got out of bed and got him.

It may be teeth, who knows, but I am TOAST. I probably shouldn't have gotten him, but I couldn't listen to the yelling anymore and I thought he'd go back until, like, 7:00, which is what he used to do.

So I'm calling in the Think Tank. Yes, you. What do you think? How would you proceed tonight?

Things I'm Too Old for Thursday

2014-02-27T05:47:00.000-05:00

Most of the time, like I'm sure most of you do, I forget that I'm not 23 - I feel like that is the age you can sort of get away with being immature and a doof with minimal consequence. Anyway, I'm constantly admonishing myself for wanting and liking things I'm way too old for, or giving myself the business for not liking things anymore because I think I'm too old and I shouldn't be. Here's this week's list:

Cheez Whiz. This was a true heartbreaker. A couple of months ago I had the house to myself for five minutes, so I did what any normal American would do: I went straight to the grocery store and bought a bag of frozen french fries and a jar of Cheez Whiz. And I made cheez fries. And I took one bite. And I gagged and shuddered and spit it out. Guys. I don't know what we were thinking. Cheez Whiz is literally the most disgusting thing in the world since block cream cheese. This may not seem as big of a deal to you, but believe me, I existed on cheeze goo and French fries for the better part of my life, so hating it now is wrong on so many levels. You know what else you remember is delicious but is actually totally disgusting? Space Ice Cream. Trust. It's like a bag of old dusty dentures. Except grosser.

Full House reruns. Am I too old for this? I think "no" but whenever I am watching it my husband comes in and gives me a weird face and then walks out. Maybe it's because it's hilarious and as such, I laugh aloud often, but I'm telling you, it's WAY funnier than you remember. Try it, you'll like it. Or in the immortal words of Uncle Jesse "Haaaaaave merrrrrcaaaaaaaay!"

(You are totally laughing to yourself right now. Busted!)

Cosmopolitan Magazine. I am WAY too old to read Cosmo anymore. I get a subscription (free, don't ask) but last month, I didn't even know who the girl on the cover was! She was, like, some 20-year-old and I didn't even open it, I just threw it out because it was time to give it up. I have no use for Cosmo anymore and while it makes me sad in theory, I never reeeeeallly loved it anyway (I despise that they end the magazine with the Cosmo quiz, it is boring and dumb) so I'm not totally torn up about it.

Aside: I am obsessed with Redbook. I don't care. I love it the MOST and want to be the editor and be friends with all the girls they put on the covers. Maybe they'd let me talk about sweatpants? I actually opened it and was like "when did they get so hip?" Or am I just getting old? Anyway, Redbook rules.

Wifebeaters as shirts. And probably cutoffs. Just give it up, woman. Just give it up.

What are you way too old for but secretly love?

So THIS is what they meant...

2014-02-26T08:14:00.000-05:00

This morning I was feeding my kids. The little one is trying out puffs for the first time and is pretty bad at it. He has no idea what he is doing. The other one was trying to steal the puffs for herself, demanding I tell her the story of The Wizard of Oz for the 43785th time this morning, and refusing to eat the toast I made her. Note: this was toast with CREAM CHEESE, and I despise cream cheese more than life itself. I hate getting it on me, I hate looking at it, I only enjoy eating it if I don't know it's in something. So making this for her is a huge concession on my part and while I try to impart this upon her, she absolutely does not care.

And then I realized.

In ten years, this is what I will remember and think was so awesome and miss so very terribly. Nothing happened, really, but it was so quintessentially "my kids" that I just had this really weird feeling come over me and I wanted to freeze the moment (either a Zack Morris style "time out" or put my fingers together and stop time like that girl did on that show Out of This World and yes I remember her name is Evie) and just eat them up and make them promise to never get any bigger and stay like this forever.

This is totally what we're too tired to notice 98% of the time, but it's so awesome.

Ballet Flats and Boatnecks

2014-02-25T07:16:00.000-05:00

I like pajamas now. I buy fancy jams for 80% off at 6pm.com (the best-kept secret in Internet shopping) and am probably a pee-filled jar away from Howard Hughes-ness, but whatever. During the day, I struggle a bit. I'm not a workout girl, but of course enjoy workout clothes. Everything gets spit-up on it, so anything non-sweats has to be washable and not-requiring an iron, because I am a terrible ironer.

So, what do you wear?

This frozen weather has been a bit prohibitive, but normally I like jeans, a boatneck shirt and ballet flats.

What are your favorite jeans? I like Gap legging, they hide the baby backfat issue and are comfortable.

What are your favorite ballet flats? These are a staple, but I din't have any that I love. I've got some Tory Burch Revas that I scored on major sale a while back, but they're a little narrow. I don't mind spending more on shoes because I tend to wear the same pair to death, but I don't know which are the best. Thoughts?

And finally, boatnecks. I can never find ones that are long enough. I'm tall, but mostly torso (I know, weird!) so shirts are always short on me.

Okay, let me know what you think. And I'll let you borrow one of my 2,008 robes.

Here's Why We Can't be Friends - an Open Letter to THOSE Moms

2014-02-25T07:05:00.000-05:00

Okay, so having two kids is fun, but I'm toasted. Therefore, we need to talk.

Not about how my turkey son is a junk sleeper. Not about how my turkey daughter refuses to play on a playground. But about how freaking UPPITY all of these parents I've been meeting lately are.

Cue "Why Can't We be Friends?" and then let's all drink beer and watch Dazed and Confused.

No, seriously. Here's why we can't be friends.

Everyone I have been meeting lately (when you stay home, you are forced by proximity to meet a lot of new people - like at the playground, library, booze section of Trader Joe's) has had an OPINION. You know what I mean? Like, "Oh, I would NEVER feed my kids (insert food kids eat here)." Or, "Oh, I have no idea who Dora is, we don't watch TV."

First of all, liar. If you don't know who Dora is, you are dumb. Everyone knows who Dora is. And if you don't feed your kids grilled cheese, chicken nuggets and french fries, guess what. That's great. But I'm not a lesser parent because I do. So shut your trap.

I am all for everyone raising their kids differently - how are you supposed to learn new ways of tricking your kids into doing what you want? But, barring abuse, neglect, etc., everyone is doing their best so back off. Nobody needs to hear from a stranger, or someone who doesn't have your specific kid, what they think you should be doing.

I love this blog: www.modgblog.com, and the girl who writes it wants to stop because idiots are being, well, idiots and making her feel badly. I think that sucks. She's parenting the way she feels is right and people are giving her crap? It's not anyone's place to be judgmental anywhere, ever.

And why is it that the junkiest, meanest moms are also always the ugliest ones in mom jeans? There HAS to be a connection, don't you think?

Anyway, that's what's been on my mind lately and I wanted to see if I was the only one who felt this way. Eat organic. Don't. Bring your kids into your bed. Don't. Who cares? Just make happy, nice kids.

And if you can figure out how to get a baby to sleep 12 hours straight, I promise I won't talk about you behind your back anymore. Promise!

The Sims

2014-01-02T11:03:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I was opening up Microsoft Word and in my search, I noticed that I have "The Sims 3" on my computer. This is a bad scene.

When I was younger, my roommate and I would get drunk and play Sims for hours, and it was the best thing ever (read: totally dumb and sad, but come on!). Now, I have an actual life that resembles The Sims in its' mundane nature, with no time to actually play, so I really shouldn't have any desire to play, right?

RIGHT?

Dude. It's killing me. It's ALL I want to do.

I love The Sims.

2014

2014-01-02T08:10:00.000-05:00

Mantra: They're my kids, I'll screw them up as I see fit.

New Phase...

2013-10-23T07:32:00.004-04:00

Good morning!
Okay, here's the deal. I am not going back to work. My awesome boss knows, it was a very sad meeting, but I am really excited for this new step.

However.

Um, two kids? BRUTAL. Maybe it's because Husband leaves the house by six a.m. and does not return until at least nine or 10 (is that correct? Or is that opposite? No, it's opposite. I fixed it, but know that I used the numbers for six and nine and spelled out 10. But can you mix them like that in one sentence? Advise). He's working a TON, which is obviously a big sacrifice and I really appreciate it, but dude. It is intense. There are literally no breaks. By six o'clock I am literally fried. I look like one of those cats on those dumb book order posters that say "Hang in there!" except uglier.

I love my kids, obviously, and I feel lucky to be able to spend this time with them because it is not something a lot of people are able to do. Though you know what I hate? How people always frame this situation as a choice and one option is better than another. Being a parent is hard, period. It's a huge sacrifice, working or not. Everyone's on the same team - the team where we hide from our kids because they are life-sucking leeches who are out to destroy us. Well, except that it's hardest for me and nobody knows my plight or pain. Kidding. But it bugs me. Parents who stay home do not have it easy. Parents who work do not have it easy. Why can't we just leave it at that?

ANYWAY.

Back before I had kids, I used to write a little bit, and it was fun because people Googled me. What? Maybe I could write a little bit again, while I'm hiding from my kids. But is there a paper for New England moms who are super hilarious and enjoy 80s teen sitcoms, talking about outfits and not knowing any current events? I think it would be really good, don't you? I'd read it.

What was that? Sorry, I was busy yelling at Bink about watching another Dora the Explorer. Spoiler alert: I let her. Yay!

Reasons Why I Can't Work Out.

2013-09-30T09:03:00.002-04:00

When I am feeding the baby at 3 am, I'm like "I should totally work out tomorrow." And then it's 6 am and I'm like "Oh, TV." So there goes that. Except we DON'T watch much TV, which is heartbreaking, but what can you do? Anyway, there are many other reasons why it is impossible for me to work out. Here is a sampling:

I have a two year old and a newborn. I'm too tired to work out.
I was sick when I was pregnant two months ago, so I'm still recovering from that.
I'm not wearing a bra.
I'm not wearing a bra, and I spent the whole day running errands. I'm too embarrassed to work out.
Spanx were invented for a reason; if I don't use them, they'll go out of business. It's really for the Spanx employees.
My kid has croup. I need to sit next to her and watch Peppa Pig. No time to work out.
Also, my kid has croup. Can we discuss? If we do, there will definitely be no time to work out.

And here is the biggie, the one that always tips the scales to laziness:
I. Don't. Wanna.

So when I cry at 4 p.m., about to leave for a 6 p.m. wedding and the dress I bought doesn't fit around my butt, I have nobody to blame but myself. Or EVERYTHING ELSE, see above.