Archive for the ‘Style’ Category

March 14th, 2011

You’re Not Alone (IV)

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I’m not saying these are all about me. I’m just saying if you feel the same way, you’re not alone.

You’re not alone if…

…you didn’t like the book The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. You’re also not alone if you didn’t read it,  if you tried to read it and didn’t like it or if you can’t figure out why everyone said it was so great. You’re not alone if you read some of it, thought to yourself that there are just too many people–people with crazy ass names– and saw the movie instead. You’re not alone if you have never even heard of these books (but it might be a good idea to go out a little bit).

…you don’t feel sexy after a day of work and/or carpools and cleaning up after your kids. Just give your spouse the heads up that you are exhausted so he’s not disappointed when he gets to bed and you’re drooling, but not over him.

…you have an excuse all ready for the cop as you run that yellow (borderline red) light. You might not get pulled over, but it never hurts to be prepared.

…you buy a bag of  jellybeans and pull out the red, purple and pink ones for yourself. Everyone knows that the other colors suck, so no one will suspect you.

…your purse and shoes don’t match. That’s a dated fashion rule and it’s stupid.

…you can’t afford to buy all (or any) organic food. It’s expensive, I know. If you want to do something, pick a few things that you really believe in. I like to buy organic milk and chicken. I think my girls won’t have Double D boobs when they’re 8 years old if I only give them organic milk and chicken. Do what you can do, but don’t beat yourself up. Especially over the bananas. Everyone knows those are a scam.

…you go to get a pedicure and you forgot and/or didn’t have time to shave your legs. Just tell them that you have an upcoming leg wax appointment and you need to grow it out for that.

…you hit your horn when some idiot pulls out in front of you and then proceeds to go 15 mph under the speed limit. That is BOGUE and it’s OK to convey that message through your horn. If you are able, you should try and see what the other driver looks like. It’s good to know if you can take them or not, just in case they get mad.

…you are a day or so late on changing your kids’ sheets or giving them a bath. Nothing bad will happen.

…you have no interest in meeting your favorite celebrity. Chances are good the reality won’t the same as your reality, and then you’re not only crushed for life–but you’re also stuck with a ton of memorabilia from someone who was an ass to you. Live the dream. It’s bound to be better.

…sometimes you don’t shower after working out. You still have to throw on something on though: body spray, lip gloss, deo… I mean, come on–we’re not total neanderthals.

…once in a while you find yourself out of poop bags when your dog poops on someone’s lawn. Just promise yourself that when you get home, you’ll get a bag and come back to clean it up. If the neighbor comes outside and busts you, tell him that you had every intention of coming back to get the poop. If, however, that’s not enough for him and he starts yelling and going nuts, threatening to call the police and asking if you and your dog “do this all the time?”–it’s OK for you to tell him to up his medication before you turn and walk away waving  “Bye, Jack!” and when he (within 3 seconds) yells to you that his name’s not Jack, tell him it is WHEN IT’S SHORT FOR JACK ASS.

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March 10th, 2011

Monkey See

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Every now and then, my soon-to-be 4 year old daughter, Sweet Pea, lets loose with an “Oy…Jesus.” She has never been to church and to my knowledge has no friends named Jesus, so it’s pretty safe to assume she heard it from me.

I say it. I think I might even say it a lot. My mom said it when I was growing up so I probably picked it up from her. I certainly don’t say it with any trace of ill will or offense, I actually say it with loss. Jesus used to be on our team. I’m not entirely sure why he left. It seemed like he had a good thing going with us, but I wasn’t there so I can’t speak with any definitiveness. I guess eight days of presents and potato latkes weren’t enough to keep him. Good for him for starting his own thing. That shows motivation and initiative. Plus, it’s proven to be a pretty successful endeavor. Sometimes I feel the need to call out to him though. I guess I do it fairly often because Sweet Pea, my soon-to-be 4 year old, did it today.

Our kids are watching us. It’s like being in a reality show, but without the cameras and diet pill endorsements. If you weren’t one of the cool kids when you were growing up, now is your chance because you’ve got your very own built-in captive audience of followers. I don’t know how long it’s going to last, because I don’t know how cool you are, but you’ve got them for at least a little while so during that time, it’s a good idea to try and do the right thing.

It all starts with us. That is not to say that waving a cigarette while running around your house yelling and popping pills is not a good idea, it’s a great idea, just not in front of the kids. Watch and learn, practice what you preach, monkey see, monkey do… you‘ve heard them all before; they’ve been around forever–and they’ve been around forever for a reason–they’re true. As parents we need to use discretion because our kids pick up on everything. We are their leaders and while they’re young and impressionable, they’re going to follow our lead whether we’re channeling Rosa Parks or Genghis Khan.

It’s impossible as parents to always set good examples so there will, inevitably, be times when our kids see and hear us do questionable things. I like to try and keep everything balanced. For instance, I say “I love you” and “Please” and “Thank you” and “You’re so beautiful to look at, it almost hurts my eyes,“ to my girls as much as possible not only because I want them to say those things to me, but also because it helps to maintain the equilibrium in our house when they find themselves on the receiving end of “UGH. You’re killing me and I’m beyond done with you.

We can only do the best we can do, and though we may slip up at times, we need to be conscious of where our words are landing. In other words, the next time your neighbor, Trampy McTramp, pops in wearing ALDO shoes that are two inches too high and a bebe top that is too sizes too small, remember that although there may not be any cameras rolling–you are being watched, so before you shred her ensemble upon departure, remember that one never knows when your kid may decide it‘s a good time to repeat your words. And when she does, you can blame it on TV or the kids at school, but we both know there is a good chance she heard it at home–and I will be right there with you as you close your eyes, let out a big sigh and quietly say: “Oy…Jesus.”

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March 4th, 2011

You’re Not Alone (III)

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I’m not saying these are all about me. I’m just saying if you feel the same way, you’re not alone.

You’re not alone if…

…you decided  to get scissors and physically cut stuff out of your kid’s hair because it’s just too sticky and too much of a pain in the a$$ to brush it out. You can’t get away with this forever, but if she’s only 19-months-old, you still can.

… sometimes you have to confer with a calendar to remember the last time you showered.

…someone gets your kid a present, and then you put it away because your kid has enough crap, and then you bring it out one day when your kid is being really good, and then you take all the credit.

… when your kid says “Look at me! Look at me!” you sometimes reply “That’s great!” without even looking because you are busy and whatever they’re doing probably isn’t anything all that great.

…you secretly hope that you win at Candyland even though you’re playing with kids.

…you see the people who work at the market more than you see your friends.

…you ate cake for breakfast and justified it by telling yourself that it’s OK because cake has eggs in it.

…you are jealous of your little one who has no issue walking around with her belly hanging out.

…you agree to accept the Facebook ”friend requests” of your friends’ kids because your friend wants you to spy on them. You’re also not alone if you neglect to tell her that you are a worthless spy since you hid those kids from your Facebook feed because their status updates are stupid and annoying.

…you throw down a little “BECAUSE I SAID SO!” every now and then, even though you always swore that you never would.

…you think it’s OK to leave your kids in the car, strapped in their car seats, while you run into a restaurant to pick up carry-out. OK, that is really not OK–but it used to be, a long time ago, and it’s OK to sometimes wish that it still was.

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February 17th, 2011

Big Dogs and High Horses

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I used to have a Golden Retriever named Barney. He was not our family dog; he was my dog. He was named after the store in NYC. Barney was very handsome and very regal–and he carried himself as such. He wore a Burberry collar, he stayed clear of lake water and he made me blow dry his fur if he got caught in the rain. Barney was my guy throughout my single years and when he died (the night before I got married) it broke my heart.

A month after our wedding, my husband (Cody) and I adopted Floyd. We found him at a Golden Retriever foster home. We were taken with his big head, stubby tail and kind eyes. We didn’t know he was completely out of his mind. Floyd chases cars like he’s in a video game. He’s the first to jump in the water and he will roll in anything–he doesn’t care whose ass it came from. When I feed him, he eats like he just got out of prison and if it’s thundering out, he will rip down an entire door frame. Floyd is nothing like Barney. He is, however, the cutest dog ever (that’s what it says on his dog tag) and I don’t know of a sweeter dog anywhere.

My girls are lucky to be growing up with Floyd. He’s big, but he’s harmless. He’s by their side if they’re crying and under their feet when they’re eating. I have always said that Floyd is the best dog for your kid to meet if your kid is scared of dogs. If you’re still unsure, then don’t come over. Just kidding. You can come over. You even can ask me to put Floyd away, and I’ll do it because you’re the guest, but I won’t be happy about it–and neither will he.

I’m not suggesting that you take your kid to a dog park and leave her there to fend for herself as you run away pointing and sticking your tongue out. I’m just saying that if you do have a kid who is scared of dogs, it’s a good idea to help abate her fears. Maybe think of someone you know who has an awesome dog (like mine) and go visit that person (but not me unless you know me–I’m not running a petting zoo over here). Go and hang with the dog. Walk your kid in slowly and have her put her hand out so the dog can sniff it. Keep her hands DOWN. No one is “under arrest” and dogs sometimes jump when little kids hold their hands up high. A love affair might not emerge from the first date, but it’s better than avoiding the issue all together. Plus, you have to start somewhere.

No one wants to be scared of dogs. Scared is sad. Cautious is smart. It’s smart to be cautious; I’m actually a little worried that my kids aren’t cautious enough. I don’t think they know that they can’t go up to every dog and take a bone out of their mouth while they’re chewing. Not every dog is as patient as Floyd. I’m not as patient as Floyd.

Floyd is our poochini. He’s our poochikins (Cody hates when I call him that, so I say it all the time when he’s around). I love Floyd like he’s my child so I have no problem admitting that I’m on a high horse when it comes to him. I’m going to get down now NOT because you’re done with me, but because if Floyd were to see me–he’d probably hump the horse.

 

 

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February 13th, 2011

You’re Not Alone

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I’m not saying these are all about me. I’m just saying if you feel the same way, you’re not alone.

You’re not alone if…

…you tell your kid that your “ears are hurting”  because you want her to stop talking for one second of her life. Just one second. Of her life. ONE second with no talking. Please. I beg of you.

…when you get a mani/pedi you get a fun color on your toes and a conservative color on your fingers. I keep the party on the bottom while my fingernails are all business. The mani/pedi is really the “Mullet of the Millenium.”

… you think it’s OK to let your dog sleep in the bed when your husband is watching TV in another room. You’re also not alone if you think it’s OK to  let your dog sleep in the bed when your husband is in the same room, and in the same bed.

…you think it’s OK to tell your daughter that today is Mini Skirt Day because that is the only way you can get her to wear the skirt she always says “NO” to.

…you take an hour or so every once in awhile to get your hair colored, get highlights, or do something just for you, that YOU want, that is not truly necessary. If my approval is not enough, you can justify the time spent as setting a good example for your kids. If they see that you keep your shit up, they are likely to do the same.

… you are out to eat and your kid is unable to communicate what she wants, to take that as her “OK” to order two things that you really want and give her some. If she knew better, she would want those things too.

…you take a full day off work on your favorite celebrity’s birthday because you feel it should be a holiday.

…you borrow the awesome necklace you set aside for your daughter because she’s not old enough to appreciate it anyway.

…you are just as excited as your kid when it’s time to pick a toy from the treasure box at the doctor’s office. There is good stuff in there. Who wouldn’t want in on some of that?

…you let your pooch help clean up after mealtime. It’s him or it’s you.

…you were so happy that you weren’t the one home when your baby crapped herself and then happily distributed the goods to her crib and sheets.

…you know the words to many of the songs your kids like. What’s In The Fridge by the Imagination Moviers is a jam. It is, however, a little odd to still be listening to the CD when the kids are no longer in the car and then, around 5 minutes into the drive, realize that the CD is not only still playing, but you are singing.

…you finish what you are doing while your child is wailing and the baby monitor colors are hitting rainbow status. You know your kid. You know the different cries. You know she’s fine and you know she’s safe. She’s just ready to get out. TOO BAD. Finish what you’re doing. You’ll get there soon enough. A little patience is a great lesson to teach early on. Do you really want her to turn out like…well… like me?

 

 

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