Questionable Choices in Parenting

Laughing at life as a parent so they don't commit me

My Scary Mommy Repost: All I Need to Know I Learned on 90210

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This weekend I had the opportunity to wine and dine with the super hilarious and sweet Jill Smokler, aka Scary Mommy.  Since I already had a bloggy crush on her before, my crush has exploded 100% after this weekend.  I may become a Scary Mommy groupie. Today I am reposting the piece she featured on her site when I was a brand new blogger in February. Not only is this my favorite piece, but Jason Priestly even retweeted this post on Twitter. So one post on Scary Mommy and a retweet from Brandon Walsh—-drops mic and walks off stage.

If you are a Beverly Hills 90210 fan, here are the very important life lessons you probably learned from hours of watching the best show ever!

I have been highlighting my hair since I was in seventh grade. I really couldn’t even tell you what my real hair color should be. Here is my best guess: If you head out to your local drug store and walk down the aisle with boxes of hair color, take a look at “Blahhh” or “Meh” that would be the best description of my natural color.

 

Since I have been cursed with such lackluster hair, I have been forced to shell out big money every few months to make sure I remain a bouncy blonde and not some crazy lady pretending that her six inches of dark roots is her attempt at ombre.

 

A young gal was highlighting my hair this week and she was over sharing stories of her “bad boy” and “womanizing” boyfriend. I patiently listened to her story, nodded periodically, and even gave the shocked “No!” every so often. When she finished the sordid details of her love life, I decided to pass down some sage wisdom from a slightly older, wiser, been-there-done-that-lady. Here is what I told her:

 

“Honey, you date the Dylan, but you marry the Brandon.”



I knew I was in trouble when she got this dumfounded look that screamed “What the hell are you talking about?” Then I got the “Who?”

 

Dylan McKay and Brandon Walsh? 90210? The real 90210. Only one of the greatest shows ever! Really? No idea who I am talking about?

 

First, I felt old. Then, I felt sad for the wayward young girl that didn’t have 90210 during her formative years to guide her along her journey to maturity.  Then, I got to thinking about my own Monkey and Mimi and all of the conversations I will have with them in the future and I shudder at the thought. What if I just lock the kids in a room and force them to watch all ten seasons of my favorite show? When they are done, they can come out and we can discuss what they have learned. I am confident all of those difficult conversations will be addressed in each hour of 90210, and I will simply just need to reiterate some of the most important…

 

Beverly Hills 90210, Life Lessons

 

1. Don’t get drunk at prom and pass out in front of the principal. While I am sure you are charming, no one is going to stage a walkout and chant “Mimi graduates, Mimi graduates.”
Beverly Hills 90210, Life Lessons, Donna Martin

 

2. Don’t wear the same dress to the spring formal as your best friend, don’t date the edgy new girl that takes drugs, don’t dress slutty at Halloween parties, don’t date the broken hottie that has mommy issues, and don’t lose your virginity at the spring formal you wore the same dress as your friend — for reasons other than you are wearing the same dress as your BFF — Didn’t you learn anything from Brenda’s pregnancy scare?
Kelly, Brenda, 90210, Same dress

 

3. Just because your friends have bigger houses, amazing clothes, a bitchin car, tons of money, and the super, cool, fun mom that is sometimes in and out of rehab, the grass is not always greener and your friends probably wish they had a snarky, sarcastic Mom like yours that can make a mean pepperoni roll. Boom!

 

 

Beverly Hills 90210, Life Lessons

 

4. Drugs are bad. So are diet pills, cults, gambling,  plagiarizing your college papers,  cheating on your girlfriend with her BFF, cheating on your boyfriend with his BFF, cheating on your girlfriend with a lame music executive —OK, let’s just generalize that with cheating — it’s bad – all bad.

 

Beverly Hills 90210, Life Lessons

 

6. Violence against a woman is never OK, and if some guy pushes you down the stairs, he does not love you. While I do not condone violence, I would kick a guy’s ass if he ever laid a finger on my Mimi.
7. When faced with two options and neither feels right, always choose yourself. While she made lots of bad choices during the course of the show, Kelly got this one right—“I choose me!”

 

Kelly, beverly hills 90210

 

So there you go, seven very important lessons that cover all things I need my children to know as they grow up to be functioning members of society.  Trust me, I dated the Dylans but married the Brandon. Man, this child rearing is easy!

I Survived My Son’s First Field Trip

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When my son’s chi chi preschool informed me that in order for him to keep his spot in school for the fall he needed to attend the summer session, I was livid, furious, irate! How dare they take away precious summertime with my boy of long days at the pool, running wild at the splash park, and frequent trips to the beach. How dare………oh wait, they’re going to have pony rides and trips to a petting zoo. Dang, can I go?

The summer calendar the school’s activities looked way better than me filling up the water table 375 times in one morning. Plus the kid would probably be sick of my face by mid-June. So I conceited and sent him on his preschool way.

I knew the kids were going on field trips this summer, but Mommy Brain struck again because I never thought about the logistics of how the group of three and four year olds would actually get to the field trip destinations. Obviously they would load all of the munchkins on a HUGE yellow bus. You know the kind of bus that doesn’t have seat belts. The same buses that are involved in 26,000 accidents a year, but who’s counting?

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My sweet little boy! How could I let my three year old on a bus? He won’t go! He will be terrified!

I need to prepare him because if I know anything, it’s my boy.

Days before the trip and all the way to school that day, I reminded him he would be riding the big yellow bus with his friends. They would go see a puppet show and have lunch at the theater. And when he gets off the bus, Mommy would be waiting for him. And I bet Mommy will have a treat. Yes, a treat.. ice cream. Lots of ice cream…

Walking to his classroom on the day of the field trip, I was still chanting over and over “you’re going to go on a big bus today! Won’t that be amazing?”  Before we made it very far, a teacher told us to just head out to the buses because they were ready to leave.

I can’t do that! This boy is a man of routine and he doesn’t like when things change.

He will be terrified and burst into tears if I walk him over to the bus and then leave! 

This isn’t how it was supposed to work. No, no, no!

I was supposed to drop him off in his class, like usual, and run out the front door.

This will be a disaster!

We walked up to the big yellow bus, he let go of my hand, and stood in line with his class. What the…? Wait, what just happened? That little traitor didn’t even look back. No tears. No hesitation. Just a big goofy grin and off he went to wait in line with his classmates all decked out in their blue school shirts.

If there is one thing I know. it’s my boy. And if there is one thing that will continue to surprise me, it’s my boy

Happy Birthday, Baby!

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I didn’t need a sonogram to tell me that I was having a girl. The pregnancy symptoms were clear indicators that the bun in my oven had lady bits. The minute the little test came back positive, my butt and hips got so big I could easily be mistaken for a Kardashian. The glowing skin of pregnancy, yeah, that was nowhere to be found on this lady. Oh, and for good measure, 14 weeks of being green from morning sickness made this particular pregnancy….memorable.  But the worst was making it through 40 weeks of pregnancy with my son and my skin was unscathed, but at 36 weeks, I guess my girl thought it was time for me to earn my stripes–stretch marks. Traitor!

Big booty, vomiting, and tiger stripes aside, two years ago when the doctor placed my gal in my arms, I swear to you, friends, it was like Stevie Wonder was in the delivery room singing “Isn’t She Lovely,” because she really was. She was the most beautiful, mucus covered, gooey, messy baby girl I had ever laid eyes on, and I was immediately smitten with her. Good thing she was cute, because she was on my shit list in utero.

Happy Lady

Today is her second birthday and she isn’t that gooey, stretch mark dealer, but a fireball of a little lady that skipped walking so she could run, Disney Princess loving, in a constant state of singing and dancing, scaling the back of the couch so she can ninja leap onto her brother, bossy pants and she is all mine!

Maybe it’s the English teacher in me, but I can’t think of a better way to describe my gal:

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Fierce and fearless:  At her Mommy and Me gym class she is the first to dive into the ball pit, will race up and down the slides, and when they need a volunteer for some crazy stunt, guess who they always look to first. I’m not sure I have the heart for my baby to be such a thrill seeker. If she ever sends me a video of her bungee jumping, I will die a million deaths.

This weekend we celebrated her birthday with her little friends. As long as I live, I will forever remember her sweet face as we sang to her, and after she blew out her candles, she looked at her dad and said “I did it!” Excuse me while I have a moment. My heart just exploded in my chest.

Birthday Girl

Sometimes I envision throwing her a lavish wedding, but in reality, in twenty-five years this wild child will probably call me on a Tuesday to tell her father and I she met someone and will be marrying him on a cliff in Santa Monica…on Wednesday.

Watch your step because this sugar and spice  is FIRE when she is mean. I used to follow my son around making sure no one took toys from him or that older kids were too aggressive. I don’t worry too much about this one. Seriously, try to take a toy from her or steal her swing, I dare you.

Mad Lady

Moms and daughters have interesting relationships. Fortunately for me, I’ve already started laying the groundwork for motherly guilt that will ensure she stays with me forever. She may be just a little girl now, but I have big plans for us. While I am young and vibrant she and I will go to New York, eat fabulous food, and sing along with Broadway shows. However, when I am old and grey, she will humor me and take her old mother to Atlantic City, push my wheelchair up to the slots, order me a few Captain and Diets, and kick back while I press my luck.

But in all seriousness, since she is officially two, at what point do I have to stop referring to the extra junk in my trunk as baby weight?

The Gauntlet: Conquering the Inflatable

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The blaring music hurts your ears and you have to scream to talk to the person next to you. The bright lights are flashing strobes that make you dizzy when you walk, and some girl is crying in the corner. No, this isn’t a scene from a trendy club on a Friday night; this is a four-year-old’s birthday party at a bouncy house, and if the ambiance isn’t enough to make you feel a little trippy, the effects from the party will.

Our first visit to this assault-on-your-senses-birthday-party-venue happened when I was über pregnant with Mimi. I was ecstatic to sit for a few hours while Monkey bounced his little self into a birthday party induced coma. I watched my little guy scamper off into one inflatable contraption after another, but it was an ominous one called “The Gauntlet” that should have come with a warning

Warning sign

The Gauntlet was different from the rock walls or round bouncers he happily bounded across during the party because once a kid climbed into a little tube, you couldn’t see them until they reemerged sliding down a huge incline.  Honestly, you would have better luck sending your kid into a crack house hoping they coming out with less baggage and trauma.

Once Monkey disappeared into the tubes of The Gauntlet, I started talking to another party-goers dad. After a few minutes I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard faint cries above LAMFO’s Party Rock Anthem.

Do you hear something?

Am I imagining things?

But after a few more cries, I realized it was Monkey panicked and screaming for me! Because I was the size of a whale, climbing in and rescuing him wasn’t an option so I sent the dad I was chatting with in to fish him out.

When Monkey emerged, he was terrified, tear-stained and wanted out of the bouncy house hell.  After a while, he bounced a little in a safer inflatable, but he and I never forgot that dam Gauntlet

After that episode, every time we received a birthday invitation to that bouncy house, I sent up a silent prayer he wouldn’t remember getting stuck or be big enough to conquer the Mount Everest of inflatables.

TheGauntlet

At the next few parties I kept a close eye on him and put up a mom sized roadblock in front of The Gauntlet. This plan worked until I had to wrangle both kids solo at a party and they both took off in different directions. I chased after the little one because she was likely to start a pint-sized revolt and overtake the cake table.

It was like Déjà vu: the music and lights were so bright and loud, someone was probably sent into a seizure, and behind all the ruckus were faint, panicked cries. He was stuck in the dam Gauntlet again. Crap…

This time he knew to get out the way he entered, but he was still upset. I told him he was brave and so smart for getting out when he was stuck. I even offered to join him in The Gauntlet so he knew he could make it through unscathed, but he wanted no parts of that solution.

Two weeks later, his best buddy had his party at the same place, and I was fully prepared to bring a pair of scissors. You know, in case The Gauntlet looked at me the wrong way.    The party was in full swing when Monkey booked it over to The Gauntlet. I panicked, but this time something pretty awesome happened.

He conquered The Gauntlet all on his own, and his face when he came sliding down to the bottom was priceless. I imagine this is what a Heisman Trophy Winner’s mom feels like. OK, that’s a bit much, but it was pretty awesome.  My pal Coco caught this photo of Monkey and I celebrating his success.

Celebrate!

He ran through The Gauntlet so many times, he was exhausted and needed a break.

Sotired

 Maybe getting stuck in an inflatable isn’t the worst thing that can happen to your kid, but when they overcome a fear, now that is pretty rad.

 

It’s Just a Little Crush, but I am NOT Ready for It

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I knew it would happen eventually. I just wasn’t prepared for it to happen so soon.  Of course I wouldn’t be the only girl in his life forever. Dammit, I should have kept him inside today. I let my son out of my sight at my in-laws for two minutes, and in that time, he caught a glimpse of the home wrecker neighbor girl.

Hand Holding

I get it, she is adorable with her wild blonde hair, the fact that she is slightly older than him is intriguing, and she has a bit of a rebellious side never wearing shoes and refusing to wear a helmet. Apparently the boy has a type.

He has tons of friends that are girls, and I usually have to remind him to not play so rough. Girls don’t like to wrestle. Don’t throw dirt on girls. Girls don’t appreciate headlocks. But the silly grin plastered on his face when she crossed the yard told me this wasn’t the normal playmate.

When I saw this shoeless gal stroll up to my boy, I was not prepared for what would unfold before my eyes. Or at the very least, if I did have to prepare myself, I hoped he would hold off on this behavior until middle school when I could ignore it or hide in the kitchen drinking wine straight out of the bottle.

It started with Monkey laughing a little too loud at her jokes, agreeing to play games he usually doesn’t like to play, and attempting to put on her brother’s roller blades because she wanted to roller blade. Do kids even roller blade anymore you ask? Apparently they do, and I had to pull Monkey out of a pair before he fell and broke his neck.

After I filled the water table for the third time, I banned him from tipping it over again, but she giggled and laughed when he Hulked out on the table tossing it to the side and spilling the contents down the deck.  Apparently her siren call was too powerful and the water went soaring across my feet in defiance. Now I see your game, sir. I vaguely remember your father pulling the same stunts, but his may have involved beer and a funnel. Different tools, same effect.

Then as if he was staring in his own version of Jackass, the boy grabbed his little red bike and started peddling it down a grassy hill. He yelled to get her attention just before he “crashed” on the bike. His dramatic “fall” was followed up by rolling down the rest of this hill and laying at the bottom for a while. Just enough time for her to come running to see if he was OK.

When she asked me “Can Monkey come play in my house?”  I didn’t tell her “NO!” too forcefully because I want to shelter my boy or I have a strange obsession with my son  (maybe a little), but  it was because after watching his “moves” and him work his “game” I needed to save that kid from him own devices. Plus it was dinnertime.

He has plenty of years to have crushes, but I CANNOT, Dear LORD, I CANNOT handle it now. I’m not sure I can ever really handle it. So until I am ready, the only wild haired blonde he needs is his life is his Mamma. Wow! If that isn’t a phrase that says this kid will need therapy, I don’t know what is.

Screw it, I’ll pay for his therapy I’m sticking to my guns.

Parenting: Five Ways I Know I am Doing It Right!

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I’ve often said that if I can get my kids through adulthood not marrying someone I hate or doing crystal meth, I will call this parenting gig a success; however, I have to wait a long time for that payoff. So, I am going to take the little winning moments where I can get them.

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  1. My kids have just the right amount of unhealthy attachment– Monkey loves school, Mimi will happily stay with her favorite babysitter, and both kids will jump into an inflatable jumpy thing or ball pit as soon as they lay eyes on it, but they always, always look back to make sure I am there. Boo boos—they need me. They want to be put to bed—they need me. A snuggle on the couch—me. Waking up in the middle of the night and need someone to vomit on- always me.
  2. When they get a snack or a treat, they always ask for one for their sibling- It doesn’t matter if it is a handful of Goldfish crackers at home, a lollipop at the hair salon, or a balloon at a birthday party, both kids always ask for one for the other—always. *Drops mic* *Walks off stage* My job is done here, folks.
  3. Monkey has no problem defending his sister’s honor-While I do not condone violence, I don’t take kindly to older kids picking on my babies. Like the day some older punk was pushing Mimi on the playground. Before I could run across the playground and go all Mamma Bear on that creep, Monkey jumped off the slide, ran over to the hoodlum, shoved the kid down and yelled in his face “Don’t touch my sister!”  Pretty bad-ass for a three year old.
  4. Strangers always tell me I have “happy kids”- My response is usually, “lucky you, you just missed their epic temper tantrum.” But in all honestly, the kids are really happy and when they show up somewhere, they always have a smile on their faces and are ready to party (as long as your have chocolate milk, that is)
  5. They have a really weird and hilarious sense of humor-Whether it is the boy walking into the room announcing “Mommy, I can’t hear you. I’ve got a banana in my ear.” That one kills me! I make sure to buy bananas every week just so he can tell that joke with a prop; the potassium is just an added bonus. Or if is the girl that demands to wear sunglasses, a hat, furry boots or all three to make the most mundane tasks,like eating breakfast, fabulous, the kids are strange little birds….and they are all mine!

These may be small victories, but I will take it. After all,

In Honor of Mother’s Day: Ten of My Mom’s Best Pieces of Advice!

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When it comes to the mom lottery, I am the Mega Millions, Powerball, Scratch-off winner. Not only is she my personal cheerleader, my kids’ favorite person in the world, and a fierce cook, she is smokin’ hot. KimIt gives me hope that when I am her age, I won’t morph into the hunchback of Notre Dame. So in honor of Mother’s Day, I thought I would share my mom’s best pieces of advice. Now be advised, I usually rolled my eyes or ignored her pearls of wisdom, but inevitability something would happen and I realized, “Dang, she knows what she is talking about.” I just hate when that happens. So here you go, 10 of her best zingers:

  1. “If you stay with that boy, you will end up barefoot and pregnant in a trailer park.”  Until my husband, I had HORRIBLE taste in men. Good thing Kim had zero problems telling it like it is. And she was right. That guy was a one way ticket to co-starting on Honey Boo Boo.
  2. Get a cleaning lady and never let her go. Apparently poor housekeeping skills are genetic, but more importantly, she was realistic. There is no way to do everything. So let the house go and throw money at the problem.  Even if we had no budge in our budget, I wouldn’t give up my cleaning lady.
  3. Make a HUGE deal out of your kids’ birthdays and every single holiday.  If your Mamma doesn’t cover your room in balloons, let you eat cupcakes for breakfast, and throw amazeballs parties for your birthday, who will?
  4. Anyone can do anything for a year. My first teaching job was reminiscent of Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Minds. Remember that Coolio video?  I was fresh out of school and the kids were climbing the walls after an endless line of substitute teachers. I cried every day. I cried all the way to work, sucked it up to make it through the day, and I cried all the way home. My mantra to survive was “Anyone can do anything for a year.” It got better and I learned to love my job, that school, and my students.  When she’s right, she’s right!
  5. Always have your own “thing.”  Being a mom consumes every part of you and we can forget who we are. Check your profile pic on Facebook. Is it you or your kids? How often do you do something for yourself? Throughout the years my mom had a lot of hobbies, some successful some not. But she always had a “thing,” something that was all her own. And I don’t mean the secret stash of candy she thought was well hidden above the fridge. Sucker.
  6. Classy women don’t drink out of beer bottles. Like I said, I don’t always listen to her advice and I never claimed to be classy. This tidbit is coming from a lady that gets sloshed after one margarita.
  7. Never wait for your husband to do stuff for you. Want a picture hung on the wall? Grab the hammer and do it yourself! Want to paint the room? Grab a brush and get started! It drove my mom insane that her mother would wait and wait to have things done by my grandfather. It wasn’t happening in her house and it sure as hell isn’t happening here. Powertools, ladies. Embrace them.
  8. Take care of your girls. Kids can do a real number on your ta-tas: underwire, padding, push-up, Victoria Secret. Live it, love it, use it.
  9. Keep her under wraps most days, but never be afraid to unleash Mamma Bear. Hey, kid too old to be on the playground, I’m looking at you. If you push my kid again, you and your mom (the one texting and ignoring you) are going to get an earful.
  10. No one and I mean NO ONE will ever love you like your Mom!

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Happy Mother’s Day! Now go do something nice for your mom. You are the reason she has stretch marks and pees herself when she runs up the steps.