Potty Training Mommy

So I sat down to write something about some relevant news topic, and realized I have to pee. Really bad. And you know I have no idea why but I just continue to hold it. I have no idea why I am doing this because frankly it is really uncomfortable. And really going to the bathroom is not some long task, some  Olympic sport. I mean what ? I have to walk 10 feet, unzip my jeans (okay okay you got me – I am wearing sweats – even easier than unzipping pants!!) and I will feel completely relieved and 100% better?! Yet I continue to make myself suffer.

It is not as if I have to use an outhouse or I am driving on a high way or in the middle of a stadium where the bathroom is hazardous to my health. I am not a fireman or cop in the midst of saving some one’s life where there is literally no time, or an action hero in some movie that has not been scripted to pee. (Ever notice  how in those suspense movies NO ONE EVER goes to the bathroom? I mean in the show 24 we are supposedly following crime fighter Jack Bauer for 24 straight hours yet the guy  NEVER pees. What is up with that?)

There is a bathroom just a mere 10 feet away, it is clean and stocked with all kinds of toilet papers, and wipes and nicely scented sprays and such.  Yet, I am so what? Lazy? Sadistic? Focused? that I insist on holding it?

The funniest part of all?! I know I am not alone. Half of you reading this are probably doing the same thing. I know this is true because every single time I announce I have to go to the bathroom another mother/friend will go “Me too!! I really have to go too!”  as if they needed to be reminded their bladder is about to burst. Seriously, think about it. Do you have to pee right now?

Hey on a bright note, maybe if I wet my pants and someone reads this I will get to do a product review for Depends. Okay, this is ridiculous…I have nothing to say because I can’t even think of anything but my bladder and now my legs are crossed so tight they are starting to hurt. (Hey wait. Is this technically a thigh exercise that I can loose weight from?) If someone turns on a facet I am in serious trouble. Oh the sound of running water, not good.  Okay I have to go……..I am going to ………..oops……um, too late.  So warm and what a relief………..(HA HA JUST KIDDING!!) Now go pee before we BOTH have an accident.

Coach : It’s not meant to be wallpaper

There are some upper end brands we all know just by glancing seeing a single letter. The special “G” for Gucci, the for Fendi, the LV pattern for Louis etc. – these are all excellent examples of marketing done well. I have an item (or two) from these designers, I am not opposed to overpaying for a letter to be on something – I too am not above knowing I am getting totally ripped off and wanting the item anyway. I get it, I promise. We have all accepted that when you want to show people you’ve got some cash, you sport a letter or a symbol. Fine. But please ladies, please, these things are not meant to be body wrap or wall paper. Today as I rolled into my daughter’s ballet school I was nearly blinded by the letter C coming at me. One of the fellow mothers there looked like one of those trippy wall art things where if you stare at the series of random dots long enough they become a picture of something in 3D. Well I stared and stared but all I got was dizzy, and a sudden hatred for Coach. Listen, a wallet, a bag, a scarf, some loafers with a little “C” here or there – fantastic. Chic. Luxury. Discretely upper class. ALL FOUR OF THEM AT ONCE – trying waaaay to hard. Honestly her outfit was the fashion equivalent of pulling out her income statement. I didn’t say anything – we all know I am a total wimp in real life – but I really WANTED to say – “PLEASE STOP ABUSING THE ONE LETTER OF THE ALPHABET LADY, there are 25 other letters in the alphabet, and plenty of designers for each. Instead, I told her……. I loved her shoes.

Electric Youth..Never Gets Old

Which is the funnier fact : Electric Youth, the perfume we ALL wore in the 80s designed by Debbie Gibson is STILL being sold or a few years ago she tried to relaunch her career using the name Deborah because her NAME was the biggest challenge in her comeback?

Okay at the risk of repeating the navigation bar too much  – OMG Remember when this Debbie Gibson was so huge? Did you also have a copy of the queer hat she always used to wear?  Seriously, rock the Electric Youth cologne, the matching black hat that looked eerily similar to the one Charlie Chaplin wore, and belt out the words to Electric Youth or Lost in His Eyes and BAM you have a snapshot of my preteen years. The only thing I am missing now is my Tiffany poster. Damn I bet those girls got into some SERIOUS drugs at some point. Well “Debbie” and Tiff did the drugs…”Deborah” is too sophisticated.

So since I can’t recapture my youth, I can at least smell it. I am not sure if it is really “electric” but if you ask me, any perfume with hot pink spiral pump shape, neon green writing and a price point of $11.00  is a MUST HAVE.

Healthy Snack Sucks

There are a lot of really overweight kids in this country. It is a true statement, and a sad one, because it is really the easiest to be thin when you are 5 – you know when running around the yard at top speed for two hours isn’t a chore, but a favored past time. But the truth of the matter is, that that our kids are not overweight because Max brought cupcakes to school for his birthday, or because they had ice cream after lunch on a hot summer day. Today, it was our turn to bring in snack. Okay – cool. I can swing that. I went to the food store, I got ingredients, I googled (yes!!) the recipe, I was set. Max and I made the cutest little cupcakes with oreo ears to look like panda cupcakes (HELLO!?! MOM OF THE YEAR AWARD). Anyhow, all joyous and bubbly we bounce into school this morning with a cupcake tower and enough panda cupcakes for a wildlife preserve scene. I proudly walk up to the teacher to give her the cupcakes (did I mention we even colored coconut to be the color green to look like bambo?! I know so cute right!?) Anyway, we walk up to Miss B, and you know what she says?! Not wow, not how cute, she didn’t even praise me for my fine attention to my children (bitch LOL) but says this is not “healthy snack”. I was then told healthy snack is carrots, wheat germ, organic asparagus, etc. Okay seriously WTF?! I have to bring in celery for Max and Ty’s birthday instead of a cupcake because some lazy ass mother gives her kids McDonalds five times a day, and his best sport is video games?!  Yeah, I am sure for this kid, my CUPCAKE IS REALLY THE PROBLEM…riiiiight. Are you serious? My ONE cupcake is the nail in the coffin?! Of course, I voiced my opinion rather politely and you know what happened of course. The teacher stood firm, I bought carrot sticks and Max cried. (Then Ty started to cry reminding me how fun it is that when there is a birthday dissappointment we get it times two with twins!!)  Rest assured however, that when their crying stopped I told him we will be having Panda cupcakes for dinner. All 20 of them. So go ahead – call Deyfus now…my kids eat cupcakes and I think “healthy snack” sucks.

Baby Chiquita

I found my unborn baby in the produce section………….Okay I am just kidding…don’t get scared.

There are a lot of things that I find really weird about pregnancy, for example the way most of my books about pregnancy describe the baby as it develops. Am I the only one that has noticed that whoever is creating these baby development books has a serious fruit fetish!?

First my baby is the size of a raisin, then a grape, then a pear, then a small plum, then a lemon, then a large grapefruit, then a melon….I am terrified now to go to the produce aisle for fear that I will be eating something that reminds me of the baby. I don’t even want to look at a fruit salad…now that idea just seems horrific to me. It  makes me think of those guys from the fruit of the Loom commercials – the giant fruit with big hands and feet and smiley faces.

The one book I do have that is totally amazing because it does not describe the baby as any sort of fruit or veggie is called From Conception to Birth: A Life Unfolds. This book is very different from the What to Expect books or Your Pregnancy Week by Week. Instead of taking about your baby in terms of the food pyramid, it actually shows images of a baby – from one cell through nine months. Granted the baby does at times look like a shrimp, and then kind of a mutant so he/she may not be as “cute” as you are picturing at 5 or 6 weeks but it is AWESOME to see what your little person-to-be ACTUALLY looks like. Some of the photos are digitally enhanced, some are taken using MRI and other imaging machines, but they are not harmful to the baby. Unfortunately, I bought a different book that claimed to be showing the same thing as this one, but it was really meant more for medical students. The images were not appropriate for an expectant mother so just be careful you buy the right one!

This book however, is like getting to peek through your belly button..without all the calories of fruit salad.

Here comes the bridesmaid (STOMP STOMP STOMP)

As the weather grows warmer and warmer, the panic begins to set in that soon I will no longer be able to hide the sins of lingering pregnancy weight with things like over sized sweaters, and black leggings and high boots. That slimming little combo has hepled me delude countless friends and family into believing I HAVE lost all my pregnancy weight and that I look great for someone that has been pregnant so recently. (Ps – how long do you get to call it pregnancy weight for? When do I own this mess?)

The truth is, I have the wrong friends for my dress size. I know we are supposed to love our girlfriends unconditionally but truthfully, I hate those skinny bitches. Okay, I am kidding, but really their bodies are all wrong for my self-esteem.  Of all of my college and early career friends I am one of the very few that are married, I am the ONLY one that has yet to have children. (Let alone a litter of them).  This means, sadly, I am still trying to keep up with a crowd that believes a size 6 is …..HUGE. (No seriously its not their fault – they have been brainwashed by things like billboards in Time Square and US Weekly  and Nicole Richie.)

So with this in mind, you can imagine my joy when one of them announces they are getting married and oh goody for me, I get to be in the wedding and stand next to ALL OF THEM IN PICTURES. Let’s talk a look at that pic shall we? Size 0, Size 00, Size 2, Size 00 (-10), Size 2 and then……….ME.  Yeah cause it is seriously flattering and highly exciting to be wearing a fuschia cocktail length gown, standing next to chicks that are so damn skinny if they swallowed a grape you would probably SEE it through the dress. I am seriously considering accessorizing my gown with a button like (I had kids they didn’t) or permanently attaching one of the twins to me so everyone can see for themselves there is reason for my larger size.  You can tell me – would it be wrong to be actually breastfeeding one of the babies as I walk down the aisle? Too subtle? Not enough to drive the point home?

So the wedding is in three weeks. Pale Mint. I know so flattering – really thrilled about it. Even more thrilled about the other three bridesmaids that told me at the shower they REALLY need to loose weight before the photographer captures their image. (I guess they are going for completely invisible.)  I, of course, did the whole “OMG you are so skinny you totally don’t have to” as is stated in my girlfriend contract, and then I of course,  totally agreed I had to do the same.

Then I went home and ate the rest of my kid’s french fries to make myself feel better. Then I cried. (And ordered the button in a color that will compliment my mint dress perfectly).

Save the Parking Spots

There are moments in any average day that I feel convinced the world is coming to an end. It usually is not big things like the threat of a major terrorist attack or some new virus but little things like what happened at the mall today. A dreary New Jersey day, and a bunch of errands to run, I knew my mission was clear. Where else would go? The home of Bloomies, a food court and endless children’s stores. As I slowly rolled through the parking lot, in my house-sized, black SUV, I looked at a very full parking lot, and realized pretty much every other mom in the burbs had the same plan. (Did NO ONE think to text me…sheesh?!) Anyhow, I see a spot, not even a prime location spot – you know one where I would still be completely drenched as opposed to slightly water logged by the time I got my four kids out of the car and into the Neiman’s foyer. As I begin the workout that it takes to turn my humungus steering wheel, an older lady, (okay I was still being nice here but I really mean OLD like 70s old) floors her silver, foreign made coup and cuts me off to take the spot. At first I am almost too shocked to react – face it there is some comedic material here – I mean nice to see the old girl has some spunk to her. But just as I am about to give her a confused look, or at least show SOME form of dissapproval for her cutting me off, she rolls down her window to say something. Now, I am so stupid I think she may be offering to give me the spot or at least apologize, when she FLIPS OUT. I mean seriously, like if she were a cartoon there would have been smoke coming out from her little ears that are surrounded by that blueish shade of silver hair, and her face would have been like the color of tomato. Grandma was FURIOUS with me. I mean swearing like a sailor, finger pointing, telling me how she was waiting for that spot – (she must have been psychically aware of the spot from the row before). I am not a push over, and I certainly like for my kids to see me stand up for myself but I was so shocked, and flustered, I just mumbled “sorry”. I then proceeded to spend my shopping trip doing 2 things – 1. constantly scanning the crowd terrified I was going to run into her becuase for some reason I was afraid to and 2. thinking of all the thing I SHOULD have said. Maybe I was nervous because if I did run into her, I would actually have to say something and I HATE confrontation. In the end, though I realized that if the world is coming to an end, parking spots should be saved first.