Jen Mann's Blog, page 33
August 12, 2013
Qualities I Want to Instill in My Children
Today the Hubs is guest posting. He doesn't usually write, but when he does he's always got a lot to say. Please read it and if you like it, let him know because he loves a good comment as much as the next person.
My kids are heading back to school and I can't be there with them. I can't hold their hands in the hall or join them for lunch. I won't always be there to influence their decisions and their choices. I can only do my best to teach them and to prepare them. This is the advice I have used to try and instill the qualities I think they need to be a better version of themselves:
1.
Be fearless. Don't spend your life in fear of the unknown. You should
not be afraid of the unknown. You should embrace the unknown as new
adventures in your life.
2. Be strong. Be strong in
spirit, body and mind. I not saying I want you to be pumping iron and
do 100 push ups a day, but to be strong in everything you do. To be
strong in mind and spirit and don't give up on anything you try and to
persevere through the difficult things in your life.
3.
Be funny. You have to be able to laugh at yourself and with others.
Having a sense of humor is so important because it will help you handle
the stresses of everyday life.
4. Be careful. Be
careful with your things, and your feelings. Take good care of your
stuff because no one else will. Be careful with your feelings because
they will get hurt very easily and a broken heart or a crushed spirit
are the hardest things to fix.
5. Be smart. Studying
hard at school is important. No matter what happens, getting a good
education will serve you well in the future. Smart is sexy and it is
never out of style. Nerds rule the world and they always will.
6.
Be choosy. Choose your friends carefully. Who you choose to associate
yourself with is a reflection on who you are and how you will be
influenced. Be very choosy when picking a mate. Don't just sleep
around with everyone, make sure you pick the right mate because they
will be a HUGE part of your life and they can either make your life
easier or much much harder.
7. Be yourself. Everyone
is different and unique. Don't follow and try to be like everyone
else. We are all unique and we should celebrate just how unique we
truly are. All our differences make us who we are. There is only one
of you in the world, you should celebrate this fact.
8.
Be generous. You should always be generous. Generous with your time,
your money and your talents. If you have more than others, always share
because sharing is the right thing to do.
9. Be
connected. The world is a big place. There are billions of people in
thousands of countries around the world. Find your tribe and stay
connected to your tribe. Being connected on a real level with just one
other person in the world can be enough to keep you sane and normal.
10.
Don't be a quitter. This last one is important because to do
everything else on this list you will have to work at it. Nothing comes
easy and will require hours of work and dedication. Remember that when
you want to stop something because it is too hard, that is when you
must push harder and work harder. Quitting will never get you where you
want to be. Quitting should never be the answer to anything you do.
Quitting is not an option if you want to be successful.
If you liked what you read, follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
My kids are heading back to school and I can't be there with them. I can't hold their hands in the hall or join them for lunch. I won't always be there to influence their decisions and their choices. I can only do my best to teach them and to prepare them. This is the advice I have used to try and instill the qualities I think they need to be a better version of themselves:
1.
Be fearless. Don't spend your life in fear of the unknown. You should
not be afraid of the unknown. You should embrace the unknown as new
adventures in your life.
2. Be strong. Be strong in
spirit, body and mind. I not saying I want you to be pumping iron and
do 100 push ups a day, but to be strong in everything you do. To be
strong in mind and spirit and don't give up on anything you try and to
persevere through the difficult things in your life.
3.
Be funny. You have to be able to laugh at yourself and with others.
Having a sense of humor is so important because it will help you handle
the stresses of everyday life.
4. Be careful. Be
careful with your things, and your feelings. Take good care of your
stuff because no one else will. Be careful with your feelings because
they will get hurt very easily and a broken heart or a crushed spirit
are the hardest things to fix.
5. Be smart. Studying
hard at school is important. No matter what happens, getting a good
education will serve you well in the future. Smart is sexy and it is
never out of style. Nerds rule the world and they always will.
6.
Be choosy. Choose your friends carefully. Who you choose to associate
yourself with is a reflection on who you are and how you will be
influenced. Be very choosy when picking a mate. Don't just sleep
around with everyone, make sure you pick the right mate because they
will be a HUGE part of your life and they can either make your life
easier or much much harder.
7. Be yourself. Everyone
is different and unique. Don't follow and try to be like everyone
else. We are all unique and we should celebrate just how unique we
truly are. All our differences make us who we are. There is only one
of you in the world, you should celebrate this fact.
8.
Be generous. You should always be generous. Generous with your time,
your money and your talents. If you have more than others, always share
because sharing is the right thing to do.
9. Be
connected. The world is a big place. There are billions of people in
thousands of countries around the world. Find your tribe and stay
connected to your tribe. Being connected on a real level with just one
other person in the world can be enough to keep you sane and normal.
10.
Don't be a quitter. This last one is important because to do
everything else on this list you will have to work at it. Nothing comes
easy and will require hours of work and dedication. Remember that when
you want to stop something because it is too hard, that is when you
must push harder and work harder. Quitting will never get you where you
want to be. Quitting should never be the answer to anything you do.
Quitting is not an option if you want to be successful.
If you liked what you read, follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
I Suck at Back to School
My kids are going back to school this week (!!!) and it's time for back to school shopping.
There is a service the PTO provides where you can pay and have the supplies delivered to the school in time for the first day, but I am not one of those moms who dread the back to school shopping. I actually enjoy it. I love cracking open a new pack of 50 cent markers or sharpening pencils or stocking up on more glue than a preschooler could use (or eat) in a year.
Of course, I get a little frustrated (OK, pissed as hell) when the list calls for the large glue sticks and the small ones are on sale or when I can't figure out the difference between a poly folder or a plastic folder. But when I get a little anxious I just throw a couple more large pink bevel erasers into the cart (you can never have too many large pink bevel erasers in the house) and it's like Xanax for me.
Mmmmm. I can feel my anxiety dropping just looking at these beauties.
I like to shop at the discounters (Wal-Mart and Target) for school supplies rather than the high-enders (Staples and Office Max) but you gotta move fast, because they get picked over faster.
I knew I'd be out of town the last few weeks and I was worried all the "good" stuff would be gone before I got back. I thought I'd go ahead and get the shopping done before I left. I'm never this on top of things. I'm always the mom looking for tropical colors markers the night before school starts. (There's always classic colors left, but no tropical colors.)
So when my kids and I ducked into Wal-Mart so I could pick up some gummy bears (only Haribo will do) for my plane ride and we were met at the door by the display with all of the local schools' shopping lists, I decided to be the "organized mom." I grabbed the list and started throwing discounted crayons into my cart with wild abandon.
After about five minutes of power shopping Adolpha realized that I was buying the supplies for Kindergarten and second grade! Durrr. We did those grades LAST year! I shook my rattled brain and emptied out the "baby" school supplies and got started again. Phew! That was close. I almost messed up. Organized mom almost became goof up mom!
Now that I was on the correct grade, I noticed that the first grade list seemed fairly normal, but there were a few odd ones. Remember, we did first grade a couple of years ago. I don't have a terrific memory, but there were a few things that seemed new to me. For instance, each child was required to bring a 2-pack of Expo dry erase markers in BLUE. The blue was capitalized like the teachers meant business and no substitutions would be accepted. The kids and I scoured the aisles, but could only find 2-packs in BLACK. The blue ones were included in a (not on sale) multi-pack with an eraser. Grrr. I decided to save that one for the high-ender stores (the Hubs was insisting on making a run to whichever one was offering backpacks for a penny - because apparently it's back to school time for him too and he needs a new backpack). Maybe they would have blue 2-packs.
Another thing I noticed was Band-Aids. Preferably Band-Aid brand, but most definitely latex-free. What the what? Am I outfitting the nurse's office now too? Calm down, I mumbled to myself. Maybe the teachers have decided they need Band-Aids in their rooms because they were sending kids down to the nurse too often for ridiculous shit. (You know I know all about that!) If a package of Band-Aids encourages more learning time then I'm for it. I threw in two packs of latex-free Band-Aids (both kids had them on their lists). But just the basic ones. No fancy characters or shapes and sizes. There's no need for that nonsense.
I got most of the stuff on Adolpha's list and then focused on Gomer's.
He's a third grader this year and shit's about to get real now. Sure, he still needed crayons and washable markers, but now he needed "big kid" supplies too. Like highlighters and red pens and loose leaf paper. I searched high and low for a good 20 minutes for index cards - LINED. Of course I could only find UN-lined index cards. The item on his list that really stymied me was: "two black felt-tipped markers - NOT Sharpies."
Hmmm ... I started searching. I could find red felt tipped markers, orange felt tipped markers, but no black. I could find a ton of Sharpies, but the teacher was pretty insistent on her feelings about Sharpie. Son of a bitch. I'd have to get those when I got the blue Expo 2-pack (which he also needed).
He needed a crap ton of colored 2-pocket, no prong, poly folders: red, blue, yellow, green, purple, and orange.
I did mention that I go to the discounter stores, right? They've got a lot of red, blue and green, but they don't get too many of the fancy colors. I dug around in the Trapper Keeper section and found a discarded yellow that someone had obviously hidden to come back for later (see ya, sucker), but purple and orange were really giving me a hard time.
I added those to my Staples list.
I made a run to Staples and bought an over priced purple folder (still couldn't find orange) and said "screw it" while I purchased black Expo markers (sorry teacher, I tried).
I got home and dumped all of my bags in the front hall with a huge sigh of relief and I went on my trip feeling like a super duper organized mom who gets shit done (except for that pesky orange folder). I was proud of myself for not waiting until the last minute when there's nothing left except protractors and rubber bands.
Last night I was in Target and I saw an orange folder. It was right beside Target's display of school supply lists. I grabbed a copy to check and see if there was anything besides the orange folder that I was missing. I noticed the list was different than the one I had grabbed at Wal-Mart. It wasn't nearly as long or as demanding - no black NON-SHARPIE felt tipped pens or LINED index cards or BLUE Expo markers.
How strange, I thought. Target is going to be in trouble, because they screwed up the list.
Don't ask me why I assumed Wal-Mart's list was correct and Target's wasn't. Probably because Wal-Mart's seemed so authoritative.
This morning I pulled out both lists and the bags of supplies so that the kids and I could go through and make sure we had everything since obviously there was some weird snafu with the two lists.
I was about half way through the Wal-Mart list when I saw the name of the school on the top of the paper.
I won't tell you the name of my kids school or this school, but let's just pretend my kids' school is called Woodland Elementary. The name at the top of the paper in my hand? Woodside Elementary. Are you fucking kidding me??
Yeah. I bought everything on the WRONG list. I drove all over town and killed myself looking for BLUE Expo markers and orange folders and my kids didn't need any of it. I'm an idiot.
Guess what is not on the Woodland Elementary school list? A purple folder or blue Expos or Band Aids or any of the other crazy stuff that I've been looking for.
Guess what I get to do today? If you guessed return a bunch of crap that I don't need you'd be right.
This will teach me for trying to be an organized mom who can multi-task and get ahead. I'll never make that mistake again. Next year, the night before school you'll find me pawing through the discarded glue sticks and tape dispensers offering to sell a kidney for the last green spiral notebook.
By the way, Gomer still needs a yellow plastic folder with two pockets and prongs. If you see one let me know, OK?
Like this? Then follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
There is a service the PTO provides where you can pay and have the supplies delivered to the school in time for the first day, but I am not one of those moms who dread the back to school shopping. I actually enjoy it. I love cracking open a new pack of 50 cent markers or sharpening pencils or stocking up on more glue than a preschooler could use (or eat) in a year.
Of course, I get a little frustrated (OK, pissed as hell) when the list calls for the large glue sticks and the small ones are on sale or when I can't figure out the difference between a poly folder or a plastic folder. But when I get a little anxious I just throw a couple more large pink bevel erasers into the cart (you can never have too many large pink bevel erasers in the house) and it's like Xanax for me.
Mmmmm. I can feel my anxiety dropping just looking at these beauties.
I like to shop at the discounters (Wal-Mart and Target) for school supplies rather than the high-enders (Staples and Office Max) but you gotta move fast, because they get picked over faster.
I knew I'd be out of town the last few weeks and I was worried all the "good" stuff would be gone before I got back. I thought I'd go ahead and get the shopping done before I left. I'm never this on top of things. I'm always the mom looking for tropical colors markers the night before school starts. (There's always classic colors left, but no tropical colors.)
So when my kids and I ducked into Wal-Mart so I could pick up some gummy bears (only Haribo will do) for my plane ride and we were met at the door by the display with all of the local schools' shopping lists, I decided to be the "organized mom." I grabbed the list and started throwing discounted crayons into my cart with wild abandon.
After about five minutes of power shopping Adolpha realized that I was buying the supplies for Kindergarten and second grade! Durrr. We did those grades LAST year! I shook my rattled brain and emptied out the "baby" school supplies and got started again. Phew! That was close. I almost messed up. Organized mom almost became goof up mom!
Now that I was on the correct grade, I noticed that the first grade list seemed fairly normal, but there were a few odd ones. Remember, we did first grade a couple of years ago. I don't have a terrific memory, but there were a few things that seemed new to me. For instance, each child was required to bring a 2-pack of Expo dry erase markers in BLUE. The blue was capitalized like the teachers meant business and no substitutions would be accepted. The kids and I scoured the aisles, but could only find 2-packs in BLACK. The blue ones were included in a (not on sale) multi-pack with an eraser. Grrr. I decided to save that one for the high-ender stores (the Hubs was insisting on making a run to whichever one was offering backpacks for a penny - because apparently it's back to school time for him too and he needs a new backpack). Maybe they would have blue 2-packs.
Another thing I noticed was Band-Aids. Preferably Band-Aid brand, but most definitely latex-free. What the what? Am I outfitting the nurse's office now too? Calm down, I mumbled to myself. Maybe the teachers have decided they need Band-Aids in their rooms because they were sending kids down to the nurse too often for ridiculous shit. (You know I know all about that!) If a package of Band-Aids encourages more learning time then I'm for it. I threw in two packs of latex-free Band-Aids (both kids had them on their lists). But just the basic ones. No fancy characters or shapes and sizes. There's no need for that nonsense.
I got most of the stuff on Adolpha's list and then focused on Gomer's.
He's a third grader this year and shit's about to get real now. Sure, he still needed crayons and washable markers, but now he needed "big kid" supplies too. Like highlighters and red pens and loose leaf paper. I searched high and low for a good 20 minutes for index cards - LINED. Of course I could only find UN-lined index cards. The item on his list that really stymied me was: "two black felt-tipped markers - NOT Sharpies."
Hmmm ... I started searching. I could find red felt tipped markers, orange felt tipped markers, but no black. I could find a ton of Sharpies, but the teacher was pretty insistent on her feelings about Sharpie. Son of a bitch. I'd have to get those when I got the blue Expo 2-pack (which he also needed).
He needed a crap ton of colored 2-pocket, no prong, poly folders: red, blue, yellow, green, purple, and orange.
I did mention that I go to the discounter stores, right? They've got a lot of red, blue and green, but they don't get too many of the fancy colors. I dug around in the Trapper Keeper section and found a discarded yellow that someone had obviously hidden to come back for later (see ya, sucker), but purple and orange were really giving me a hard time.
I added those to my Staples list.
I made a run to Staples and bought an over priced purple folder (still couldn't find orange) and said "screw it" while I purchased black Expo markers (sorry teacher, I tried).
I got home and dumped all of my bags in the front hall with a huge sigh of relief and I went on my trip feeling like a super duper organized mom who gets shit done (except for that pesky orange folder). I was proud of myself for not waiting until the last minute when there's nothing left except protractors and rubber bands.
Last night I was in Target and I saw an orange folder. It was right beside Target's display of school supply lists. I grabbed a copy to check and see if there was anything besides the orange folder that I was missing. I noticed the list was different than the one I had grabbed at Wal-Mart. It wasn't nearly as long or as demanding - no black NON-SHARPIE felt tipped pens or LINED index cards or BLUE Expo markers.
How strange, I thought. Target is going to be in trouble, because they screwed up the list.
Don't ask me why I assumed Wal-Mart's list was correct and Target's wasn't. Probably because Wal-Mart's seemed so authoritative.
This morning I pulled out both lists and the bags of supplies so that the kids and I could go through and make sure we had everything since obviously there was some weird snafu with the two lists.
I was about half way through the Wal-Mart list when I saw the name of the school on the top of the paper.
I won't tell you the name of my kids school or this school, but let's just pretend my kids' school is called Woodland Elementary. The name at the top of the paper in my hand? Woodside Elementary. Are you fucking kidding me??
Yeah. I bought everything on the WRONG list. I drove all over town and killed myself looking for BLUE Expo markers and orange folders and my kids didn't need any of it. I'm an idiot.
Guess what is not on the Woodland Elementary school list? A purple folder or blue Expos or Band Aids or any of the other crazy stuff that I've been looking for.
Guess what I get to do today? If you guessed return a bunch of crap that I don't need you'd be right.
This will teach me for trying to be an organized mom who can multi-task and get ahead. I'll never make that mistake again. Next year, the night before school you'll find me pawing through the discarded glue sticks and tape dispensers offering to sell a kidney for the last green spiral notebook.
By the way, Gomer still needs a yellow plastic folder with two pockets and prongs. If you see one let me know, OK?
Like this? Then follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
August 8, 2013
The Crumb Wars
There's a new war brewing on the internet and it's not about breastfeeding or clothes. This time it's all about CRUMBS!
Irritating, messy, nasty little crumbs that irritating, messy, nasty little children leave in restaurants, because apparently no one should ever drop a crumb on the floor of a restaurant!
Here's the deal: A couple of moms took their kids to a little local cafe for a snack one day. The cafe serves scones. You know what a scone is, right? It's a crumbly, dusty little biscuit thing. Not a messy food at all. Ha! Anyway, the moms bought some scones for their kids and the kids ate them. Well, not all of them, because they managed to drop a ridiculous amount of scone bits on the floor.
The scone drops upset the owner so much that she sent over one of her minions to vacuum up the mess because she "just spent $50" getting the carpets cleaned.
OK, I'm sorry, but I just have to stop right there and ask a few questions. Who cleans carpets for 50 bucks? Because I need their number. I can't get a vacant apartment's 700 square feet of carpet cleaned for under a hundred. Also, why in the world would a restaurant have carpets? If you're going to serve crumbly scones, you need wood or tile floors that are easily swept. Carpets in restaurants skeeve me out. Also, I'm just going to say, who takes their kids out for scones? Scones? Really? Ugh. I know, a doughnut is too unhealthy for you, but a muffin wouldn't suffice. It had to be a scone?
Now, back to my story. So the worker has to vacuum the floors more than normal AND the owner tells the moms that the next time they come back to her fine establishment for another delicious scone they should leave the rugrats at home, because they're not welcome anymore. Say what??!
Yeah, let me think about that one too. A restaurant owner comes over to my table to inform me that I'm dining with small pigs and then has the balls to say, "The NEXT time you come back, please don't bring your offspring with you." Lady, there will never fucking be a next time. I can assure you of that.
After the moms leave (hopefully with a real loud "Fuck you and your scones!") the owner of the cafe snaps a picture of their awful, horrible, outrageous mess and posts it on her store Facebook page with some message like, "Thanks to all of our clean customers for not being such a mess!"
Want to see the mess? Are you ready? Are you sitting down? It's a shocker. It's amazing.
Keep scrolling .... you won't believe it!
ACK!!!! Shield your eyes! Am I right?!! Oh. My. God. It's ... Wait. That's it? That's the "mess"?!!
Let me tell you something, I make that much mess eating a fucking scone!
This cafe owner obviously has no idea what a mess looks like.
I didn't read about this story until today, but I wish I had known yesterday, because yesterday I saw a mess to end all messes and I would have looooooved to have snapped a pic for a side by side comparison.
Yesterday I took my kids to McDonald's for lunch. (Yes, yes, go ahead and judge me. I don't feed them scones, but I will feed them a chicken-like nugget.) As we were enjoying our weekly allotment of sodium, a group sat down in the booth behind Gomer and me. It was three young children and two completely under-qualified grandparents.
The three-year-old proceeded to ensure that no one in the restaurant could have a conversation with their lunch partner, because he decided to become a dinosaur. Perhaps I should write it this way: HE'S A D!I!N!O!S!A!U!R! R!A!W!R!R!R! That way you can get the full effect.
Every time he would roar, the grandmother would sigh loudly and the grandfather would say, "Hey now, buddy, dinosaurs need to eat too."
When this small velociraptor wasn't roaring he was licking the window and/or his seat.
Gomer almost puked watching him. Adolpha decided right then and there to. Never. Have. Children. Ever. (Thank you, dinosaur boy, for ruining my dreams of being a grandmother to Adolpha's kids.) I believe her quote was, "Is someone in charge of him?"
When the family was done "eating" they went into the play area and left us in peace.
I put "eating" in quotes, because once I turned around and looked at the space they had occupied, I'm not sure that any eating happened. There was a lot of chewing and a lot of spitting out.
Mangled nuggets littered the floor while soggy fries floated in a puddle of Hi-C. The seats were trashed with hunks of burger and sloshes of milk shake. I'm not positive what happened to the dozens of napkins strewn across the table, but shredded is the word that comes to mind. (Maybe the kid really was a dinosaur??)
When the worker came over to sweep/mop and sanitize for your protection the mess my mom said, "I'm sorry about that."
He replied, "Why? You didn't do it. It's no big deal." And within three minutes he had the booth and the floor back to normal and ready for use again.
Now, I realize that McDonald's is designed to be hosed down with industrial strength cleaners and its main clientele are young children and old people (what gives with all of the senior citizens who dine at McDs??) who are generally known as the messiest eaters on the planet, so they're well equipped and prepared for the clean up that comes with their clientele.
I also realize that the scone place is probably not the most kid-friendly joint in town, but the scone cafe owner lady needs to get a grip on what a real mess is. Get a dog and he'll solve that "messy" problem easy peasy. She also needs to figure out how to make her customers feel welcome. You can't tell a patron that they're welcome to return anytime just as long as they don't bring their kid with them. You can't go on Facebook and thank your non-messy customers for their patronage and not expect to create some sort of firestorm. She's the owner and she can refuse anyone she likes (I think - although there are some protected classes, I'm guessing) and say what she wants on her Facebook page, but when she does, she'd better be prepared for the entire internet to show up on her doorstep with an opinion.
I just wish I lived close enough so I could go and see these immaculate carpets up close and personal. I'd be so nervous I'd probably accidentally spill my coffee all over them. If she takes a picture of the mess I made, I'd want her to at least link it to my Facebook page!
Like me on Facebook and Twitter - I don't care how messy you are.
Photo source: King5
Irritating, messy, nasty little crumbs that irritating, messy, nasty little children leave in restaurants, because apparently no one should ever drop a crumb on the floor of a restaurant!
Here's the deal: A couple of moms took their kids to a little local cafe for a snack one day. The cafe serves scones. You know what a scone is, right? It's a crumbly, dusty little biscuit thing. Not a messy food at all. Ha! Anyway, the moms bought some scones for their kids and the kids ate them. Well, not all of them, because they managed to drop a ridiculous amount of scone bits on the floor.
The scone drops upset the owner so much that she sent over one of her minions to vacuum up the mess because she "just spent $50" getting the carpets cleaned.
OK, I'm sorry, but I just have to stop right there and ask a few questions. Who cleans carpets for 50 bucks? Because I need their number. I can't get a vacant apartment's 700 square feet of carpet cleaned for under a hundred. Also, why in the world would a restaurant have carpets? If you're going to serve crumbly scones, you need wood or tile floors that are easily swept. Carpets in restaurants skeeve me out. Also, I'm just going to say, who takes their kids out for scones? Scones? Really? Ugh. I know, a doughnut is too unhealthy for you, but a muffin wouldn't suffice. It had to be a scone?
Now, back to my story. So the worker has to vacuum the floors more than normal AND the owner tells the moms that the next time they come back to her fine establishment for another delicious scone they should leave the rugrats at home, because they're not welcome anymore. Say what??!
Yeah, let me think about that one too. A restaurant owner comes over to my table to inform me that I'm dining with small pigs and then has the balls to say, "The NEXT time you come back, please don't bring your offspring with you." Lady, there will never fucking be a next time. I can assure you of that.
After the moms leave (hopefully with a real loud "Fuck you and your scones!") the owner of the cafe snaps a picture of their awful, horrible, outrageous mess and posts it on her store Facebook page with some message like, "Thanks to all of our clean customers for not being such a mess!"
Want to see the mess? Are you ready? Are you sitting down? It's a shocker. It's amazing.
Keep scrolling .... you won't believe it!
ACK!!!! Shield your eyes! Am I right?!! Oh. My. God. It's ... Wait. That's it? That's the "mess"?!!
Let me tell you something, I make that much mess eating a fucking scone!
This cafe owner obviously has no idea what a mess looks like.
I didn't read about this story until today, but I wish I had known yesterday, because yesterday I saw a mess to end all messes and I would have looooooved to have snapped a pic for a side by side comparison.
Yesterday I took my kids to McDonald's for lunch. (Yes, yes, go ahead and judge me. I don't feed them scones, but I will feed them a chicken-like nugget.) As we were enjoying our weekly allotment of sodium, a group sat down in the booth behind Gomer and me. It was three young children and two completely under-qualified grandparents.
The three-year-old proceeded to ensure that no one in the restaurant could have a conversation with their lunch partner, because he decided to become a dinosaur. Perhaps I should write it this way: HE'S A D!I!N!O!S!A!U!R! R!A!W!R!R!R! That way you can get the full effect.
Every time he would roar, the grandmother would sigh loudly and the grandfather would say, "Hey now, buddy, dinosaurs need to eat too."
When this small velociraptor wasn't roaring he was licking the window and/or his seat.
Gomer almost puked watching him. Adolpha decided right then and there to. Never. Have. Children. Ever. (Thank you, dinosaur boy, for ruining my dreams of being a grandmother to Adolpha's kids.) I believe her quote was, "Is someone in charge of him?"
When the family was done "eating" they went into the play area and left us in peace.
I put "eating" in quotes, because once I turned around and looked at the space they had occupied, I'm not sure that any eating happened. There was a lot of chewing and a lot of spitting out.
Mangled nuggets littered the floor while soggy fries floated in a puddle of Hi-C. The seats were trashed with hunks of burger and sloshes of milk shake. I'm not positive what happened to the dozens of napkins strewn across the table, but shredded is the word that comes to mind. (Maybe the kid really was a dinosaur??)
When the worker came over to sweep/mop and sanitize for your protection the mess my mom said, "I'm sorry about that."
He replied, "Why? You didn't do it. It's no big deal." And within three minutes he had the booth and the floor back to normal and ready for use again.
Now, I realize that McDonald's is designed to be hosed down with industrial strength cleaners and its main clientele are young children and old people (what gives with all of the senior citizens who dine at McDs??) who are generally known as the messiest eaters on the planet, so they're well equipped and prepared for the clean up that comes with their clientele.
I also realize that the scone place is probably not the most kid-friendly joint in town, but the scone cafe owner lady needs to get a grip on what a real mess is. Get a dog and he'll solve that "messy" problem easy peasy. She also needs to figure out how to make her customers feel welcome. You can't tell a patron that they're welcome to return anytime just as long as they don't bring their kid with them. You can't go on Facebook and thank your non-messy customers for their patronage and not expect to create some sort of firestorm. She's the owner and she can refuse anyone she likes (I think - although there are some protected classes, I'm guessing) and say what she wants on her Facebook page, but when she does, she'd better be prepared for the entire internet to show up on her doorstep with an opinion.
I just wish I lived close enough so I could go and see these immaculate carpets up close and personal. I'd be so nervous I'd probably accidentally spill my coffee all over them. If she takes a picture of the mess I made, I'd want her to at least link it to my Facebook page!
Like me on Facebook and Twitter - I don't care how messy you are.
Photo source: King5
August 5, 2013
Honestly, The Honest Company is Getting on My Nerves
Have you heard about the fight that's brewing between Jessica Alba's Honest Company and the popular mom blogger Honest Toddler?
Let me break it down for you. Honest Toddler is a hilarious woman who tweets and blogs from the wickedly funny point of view of a toddler. Honest Company is a corporation that sells baby crap. (Not actual baby crap, but you know what I mean.)
Here's the she said/she said posts they've both written so you can follow along.
Long story short, a few months ago Honest Company started poking Honest Toddler and demanding that she give up her attempt to trademark her name. Ummm, excuse me? Why does Honest Company want Honest Toddler not to trademark her own name?? Because Honest Company thinks people are dolts and will confuse the two Honest names, so no one can have "Honest" except for them. Riiiiight. Have you ever eaten a bar of Dove soap thinking it was Dove chocolate? Of course you haven't, because you're not an idiot. Wait. Maybe that's what happened! Maybe Jessica ate soap accidentally and realized how easy it was to confuse the two Dove brands and thought to herself (as her mouth foamed with soapy bubbles) If I could confuse these brands, people might confuse Honest Company with Honest Toddler! I have to stop this from ever happening! She quickly rinsed out her mouth with Honest Water (if it doesn't exist yet, it will) and called her lawyer in an attempt to protect her "brand" and "intellectual property."
Honestly, I think that's bullshit. I don't believe a word Honest Company is saying.
You know what I think? I think a big corporation saw a chance to bully and scare a mom blogger with a popular site and steal her name and hopefully confuse HER fanbase to follow a diaper company instead of a sassy toddler.
I don't think Honest Company is really worried that I might confuse Jessica Alba's ah-may-zing sun savvy style with Honest Toddler's observations like "Anthropologie, you may have changed your name but I know a Salvation Army when I see one." And how stupid can they be? I love Honest Toddler and her witticisms, but I could give a fuck about aromatic soy candles. I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference.
Wait. I'm confused. Is a snarky toddler saying this or a large corporation??
The compromise that Honest Company has come up with is to create a license agreement for Honest Toddler to use her name for one year. That means Honest Toddler would PAY Honest Company a royalty for the favor of being allowed to continue to use the name that SHE has made for herself and then after a year she has to find a new name and basically start over. How is this fair?? Honestly, my eight-year-old could tell you this deal sucks.
This is not a compromise! Honest Toddler has done all of the work to gain her 250,000+ followers, her book deal with Simon and Schuster, and her TV production deal with Darren Star, and now Honest Company wants her to pay a royalty to go forward?! How greedy can Honest Company get?
I haven't heard any word that Honest Company is going after Honest Tea. I bet I can guess why they haven't. Honest Tea is owned by Coca-Cola. Hmmm ... that sounds like a fairer fight and Honest Company must not be interested in fair fights. Interesting isn't it?
Last week Honest Tea was a sponsor at BlogHer and I jokingly asked the rep, "Has Jessica Alba sued you yet?"
He responded with all seriousness, "I'd like to see her try. We're owned by Coca-Cola."
Exactly. Honest Company isn't interested in fighting one of the world's largest brands. They'd rather squabble with a mom blogger.
This isn't the first case I've heard of a larger entity attacking a mom blogger and swiping her brand. It's happening more than you know. These types of groups are targeting mid-range bloggers who have built up a nice social media following and some brand recognition. The bloggers have done the legwork for free with their dedication, sweat, good content, and hard work and then these companies hire an attorney and swoop in and take their social media. The bloggers don't realize how much they're really worth or they don't have the money to fight off the lawyers. Either way, they lose their brands and are forced to start over with the few loyal readers who find them again.
I'm not sure what's going to happen with Honest Toddler. This all came to light when she applied for the trademark and Honest Company moved then to stop her. In the scheme of things it doesn't cost much to trademark and protect your brand. I would recommend getting it done now before the vultures start sniffing around your brand.
One thing I think we can count on is Honest Toddler won't go without a fight. Honest Toddler has a quarter of a million fans on Twitter and she's not afraid to unleash them on Honest Company. She has a book that's making her money that she can use to defend herself and her brand and who knows what her Darren Star connection can do for her?
As a fellow blogger, I am standing beside Honest Toddler and defending her against Honest Company and I hope you will too. It doesn't matter if you have a small blog about your dog or a huge blog about fashion or a mid-sized humor blog, this is something we should all work together on. We could all be a victim of this sort of treatment and we need to start fighting back. We are all bloggers who pour ourselves into our sites every day. We work tirelessly to build our brand (big or small), to find readers, and to provide content. We don't do this so that a large corporation can come along and steal from us.
Let's hit Honest Company where they hurt: tweet them. (Corporations are terrified of Twitter.) Tell Honest Company and Jessica Alba to leave Honest Toddler alone and you can tell them I sent you! #thehonestcompanysucks
P.S. - I'm currently working on a trademark for People I HONESTLY Want to Punch in the Throat. I wonder if Honest Company wants that one? I'll license it to them!
Like this? There's a lot more if you follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
Let me break it down for you. Honest Toddler is a hilarious woman who tweets and blogs from the wickedly funny point of view of a toddler. Honest Company is a corporation that sells baby crap. (Not actual baby crap, but you know what I mean.)
Here's the she said/she said posts they've both written so you can follow along.
Long story short, a few months ago Honest Company started poking Honest Toddler and demanding that she give up her attempt to trademark her name. Ummm, excuse me? Why does Honest Company want Honest Toddler not to trademark her own name?? Because Honest Company thinks people are dolts and will confuse the two Honest names, so no one can have "Honest" except for them. Riiiiight. Have you ever eaten a bar of Dove soap thinking it was Dove chocolate? Of course you haven't, because you're not an idiot. Wait. Maybe that's what happened! Maybe Jessica ate soap accidentally and realized how easy it was to confuse the two Dove brands and thought to herself (as her mouth foamed with soapy bubbles) If I could confuse these brands, people might confuse Honest Company with Honest Toddler! I have to stop this from ever happening! She quickly rinsed out her mouth with Honest Water (if it doesn't exist yet, it will) and called her lawyer in an attempt to protect her "brand" and "intellectual property."
Honestly, I think that's bullshit. I don't believe a word Honest Company is saying.
You know what I think? I think a big corporation saw a chance to bully and scare a mom blogger with a popular site and steal her name and hopefully confuse HER fanbase to follow a diaper company instead of a sassy toddler.
I don't think Honest Company is really worried that I might confuse Jessica Alba's ah-may-zing sun savvy style with Honest Toddler's observations like "Anthropologie, you may have changed your name but I know a Salvation Army when I see one." And how stupid can they be? I love Honest Toddler and her witticisms, but I could give a fuck about aromatic soy candles. I'm pretty sure I can tell the difference.
Wait. I'm confused. Is a snarky toddler saying this or a large corporation??
The compromise that Honest Company has come up with is to create a license agreement for Honest Toddler to use her name for one year. That means Honest Toddler would PAY Honest Company a royalty for the favor of being allowed to continue to use the name that SHE has made for herself and then after a year she has to find a new name and basically start over. How is this fair?? Honestly, my eight-year-old could tell you this deal sucks.
This is not a compromise! Honest Toddler has done all of the work to gain her 250,000+ followers, her book deal with Simon and Schuster, and her TV production deal with Darren Star, and now Honest Company wants her to pay a royalty to go forward?! How greedy can Honest Company get?
I haven't heard any word that Honest Company is going after Honest Tea. I bet I can guess why they haven't. Honest Tea is owned by Coca-Cola. Hmmm ... that sounds like a fairer fight and Honest Company must not be interested in fair fights. Interesting isn't it?
Last week Honest Tea was a sponsor at BlogHer and I jokingly asked the rep, "Has Jessica Alba sued you yet?"
He responded with all seriousness, "I'd like to see her try. We're owned by Coca-Cola."
Exactly. Honest Company isn't interested in fighting one of the world's largest brands. They'd rather squabble with a mom blogger.
This isn't the first case I've heard of a larger entity attacking a mom blogger and swiping her brand. It's happening more than you know. These types of groups are targeting mid-range bloggers who have built up a nice social media following and some brand recognition. The bloggers have done the legwork for free with their dedication, sweat, good content, and hard work and then these companies hire an attorney and swoop in and take their social media. The bloggers don't realize how much they're really worth or they don't have the money to fight off the lawyers. Either way, they lose their brands and are forced to start over with the few loyal readers who find them again.
I'm not sure what's going to happen with Honest Toddler. This all came to light when she applied for the trademark and Honest Company moved then to stop her. In the scheme of things it doesn't cost much to trademark and protect your brand. I would recommend getting it done now before the vultures start sniffing around your brand.
One thing I think we can count on is Honest Toddler won't go without a fight. Honest Toddler has a quarter of a million fans on Twitter and she's not afraid to unleash them on Honest Company. She has a book that's making her money that she can use to defend herself and her brand and who knows what her Darren Star connection can do for her?
As a fellow blogger, I am standing beside Honest Toddler and defending her against Honest Company and I hope you will too. It doesn't matter if you have a small blog about your dog or a huge blog about fashion or a mid-sized humor blog, this is something we should all work together on. We could all be a victim of this sort of treatment and we need to start fighting back. We are all bloggers who pour ourselves into our sites every day. We work tirelessly to build our brand (big or small), to find readers, and to provide content. We don't do this so that a large corporation can come along and steal from us.
Let's hit Honest Company where they hurt: tweet them. (Corporations are terrified of Twitter.) Tell Honest Company and Jessica Alba to leave Honest Toddler alone and you can tell them I sent you! #thehonestcompanysucks
P.S. - I'm currently working on a trademark for People I HONESTLY Want to Punch in the Throat. I wonder if Honest Company wants that one? I'll license it to them!
Like this? There's a lot more if you follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
July 31, 2013
Elf on the Shelf Birthday Elf
The apocalypse is coming! Take shelter! You've been warned!
The people who make that little bastard The Elf on the Shelf are at it again. They've got a new product: a Birthday Elf.
Yup. Now Santa's elves will fly down from the North Pole (wearing a cupcake around his belly for some reason) and help your child celebrate his/her birthday.
Source: Barnes & Noble
No, no, no, no, no. Surely you know by now how I feel about that doll.
It was bad enough when the overachieving mommies were turning their elves into mess-makers, but this one is just too much. There is no reason why my child needs one of Santa's elves at her birthday party. Isn't a pony enough?
Stop it. Just stop it. That stupid elf cannot come to a birthday party. He is not welcome. This is getting ridiculous. I have not read the book, but I cannot imagine that there would be any reason why he needs to be at a child's birthday party. He needs to stay in the North Pole until it's his season. He has work to do! He needs to make toys and whatnot.
And it's not just that the little bastard is showing up where he doesn't belong, but I feel like this is just another way that seasonal companies are looking for a way to stick around all year long.
We are letting retailers creep Christmas into our lives earlier and earlier. Did anyone else notice people wishing one another "Happy Half Christmas" on June 25? My Pinterest was exploding that day with ah-dor-able Christmas ideas. I'm sure that Hobby Lobby will start stocking festive holiday ribbon any day now if they haven't already done so.
I can't wait to see the overachieving Elf on the Shelf birthday parties now. Will he arrive in a hot air balloon? Is he messy too or does he bring elaborate over the top gifts?
The Elf on the Shelf people are milking their little doll for all it's worth, so I'll give them a hand. Here are my ideas of more elves they could make:
1. Gender Reveal Elf - Santa sends down a pink or a blue elf to let your family and friends know what you're expecting.
2. Animal Loving Elf - This is for the dog and cat parents. It's an elf that Santa sends to keep an eye on your pet-child's behavior and report back if he should leave a lump of dog poop or a good chew toy.
3. You're Special Today Elf - This is like that You Are Special Today red plate. Only it's an elf that comes when your child has something special to celebrate like a 100% on a spelling test or an award for hanging up his coat properly.
4. The Elves of the Week - We've got panties of the week, why not an Elf of the Week? Monday's Elf is full of mischief (someone still has to make a mess), Tuesday's Elf is tiny (he's smaller than the rest), Wednesday's Elf is a little wacky, Thursday's Elf is ticklish, Friday's Elf is fun, Saturday's Elf is silly, and Sunday's Elf is sleepy (this one is for the underachievers like me who don't want to move him).
You're welcome, Elf on the Shelf people. I'll be waiting for my check.
Disclaimer: This is obviously not a sponsored post.
If you liked this, FIND ME on Facebook and Twitter.
The people who make that little bastard The Elf on the Shelf are at it again. They've got a new product: a Birthday Elf.
Yup. Now Santa's elves will fly down from the North Pole (wearing a cupcake around his belly for some reason) and help your child celebrate his/her birthday.
Source: Barnes & Noble
No, no, no, no, no. Surely you know by now how I feel about that doll.
It was bad enough when the overachieving mommies were turning their elves into mess-makers, but this one is just too much. There is no reason why my child needs one of Santa's elves at her birthday party. Isn't a pony enough?
Stop it. Just stop it. That stupid elf cannot come to a birthday party. He is not welcome. This is getting ridiculous. I have not read the book, but I cannot imagine that there would be any reason why he needs to be at a child's birthday party. He needs to stay in the North Pole until it's his season. He has work to do! He needs to make toys and whatnot.
And it's not just that the little bastard is showing up where he doesn't belong, but I feel like this is just another way that seasonal companies are looking for a way to stick around all year long.
We are letting retailers creep Christmas into our lives earlier and earlier. Did anyone else notice people wishing one another "Happy Half Christmas" on June 25? My Pinterest was exploding that day with ah-dor-able Christmas ideas. I'm sure that Hobby Lobby will start stocking festive holiday ribbon any day now if they haven't already done so.
I can't wait to see the overachieving Elf on the Shelf birthday parties now. Will he arrive in a hot air balloon? Is he messy too or does he bring elaborate over the top gifts?
The Elf on the Shelf people are milking their little doll for all it's worth, so I'll give them a hand. Here are my ideas of more elves they could make:
1. Gender Reveal Elf - Santa sends down a pink or a blue elf to let your family and friends know what you're expecting.
2. Animal Loving Elf - This is for the dog and cat parents. It's an elf that Santa sends to keep an eye on your pet-child's behavior and report back if he should leave a lump of dog poop or a good chew toy.
3. You're Special Today Elf - This is like that You Are Special Today red plate. Only it's an elf that comes when your child has something special to celebrate like a 100% on a spelling test or an award for hanging up his coat properly.
4. The Elves of the Week - We've got panties of the week, why not an Elf of the Week? Monday's Elf is full of mischief (someone still has to make a mess), Tuesday's Elf is tiny (he's smaller than the rest), Wednesday's Elf is a little wacky, Thursday's Elf is ticklish, Friday's Elf is fun, Saturday's Elf is silly, and Sunday's Elf is sleepy (this one is for the underachievers like me who don't want to move him).
You're welcome, Elf on the Shelf people. I'll be waiting for my check.
Disclaimer: This is obviously not a sponsored post.
If you liked this, FIND ME on Facebook and Twitter.
July 29, 2013
BlogHer, Book Signings, Pooping, and Puking - My Weekend
Well, I am back from BlogHer and I am
so freaking tired! But I feel good! There is nothing like being with like-minded people to recharge your battery. I feel energized and ready to get
to work - right after I take a nap.
This year the conference was held in
Chicago and I had a ton of fun.
I arrived a day early so I could finally spend some time with Nikki at Moms Who Drink and Swear and my BlogHer roomie Robin O'Bryant from Robin's Chicks. I got to ride in the official MWDAS minivan when Nikki picked me up at the airport. Only a few people stared at us while we screamed and hugged for a little too long. Then we picked up Robin and Nikki proceeded to wine and dine us. Well, actually just wined and dined me while Robin watched. See Robin is on a super duper high impact diet (she looks fan-freaking-tastic by the way) and she's half way to her
goal. She's in ketosis. (Which I'm not sure what that means except that it can give you really bad breath, so we had a code word that if she had bad breath I would say, "Robin, do you have a piece of gum?" and I'd wag my eyebrows really subtly so no one would know what I was talking about. I'm happy to report she's a good brusher and I never had to do that once.) Anyways, this ketosis thing is serious and if she cheats even ONCE her body will revolt and she will be back to square one. Of course she has absolutely no desire to do
that, so instead she huffed everyone's food all week.
Have you ever lived with someone who
can't eat or drink anything except protein shakes and chicken broth?
It is the guiltiest feeling in the world to shove food down your
gullet while your friend sits there with her ice water and swears “I'm fi-aaahhhh-nnnnn, ya'll!” (that's my written impression of
Robin's Mississippi accent). That girl was a rock. She has a steel will like none I've ever seen. I, on the other hand, felt I needed to eat for two since Robin wasn't consuming.
Besides rooming together, Robin and I
also put together a session on self publishing. We were joined by
Lela Davidson. We had a great turnout and I think people learned
something. We only had 45 minutes, but with the three of us talking,
we could have gone on all day!
It was so cool to meet so many of the bloggers who I read. I got to laugh like a hyena the whole time. I would like to apologize to anyone who I spit drinks, food, and just general spittle upon. I think every meal I ate was a choking hazard, because every single time I found myself laughing so hard I almost died - literally from that chunk stuck in my throat. I also got to reconnect with old friends I made last year. I think one of my favorites is Leslie AKA The Bearded Iris. She is funny online, but in person she is hysterical. Anyone who greets people, "Get over here and hug me, you hooker clown" is good people. Meanwhile, "hooker clown" is totally going into my repertoire now.
The highlight of the weekend was the
book signing for I Just Want to Pee Alone. A couple of months
ago, we realized there would be 14 contributors at BlogHer and so the
ridiculously organized powerhouse that is Kim Bongiorno flew into
action. With her help and her constant - oops, I mean timely - reminders we
were able to get it done. (Seriously, it probably would not have happened without Kim keeping me on task. Thank you, Kim.) Lucky for us, Kim's in-laws own a
restaurant within walking distance of the hotel where we were
staying. Guess what the restaurant was called? Yup. Bongiorno's.
(Chicago people, if you need some delicious food and you want to meet
the most adorable family ever, please go see them and bring your stretchy pants.) We took over
their outdoor patio space along the waterfront and had a book signing and reading under the
stars! It was bananas. We had a ton of people show up (thank goodness or
else we would have looked really stupid sitting there) and it was so
cool to meet everyone. If you came Friday night: Thank you, thank
you, thank you! It meant so much to all of us.
Nicole Shaw Leigh entertaining the crowd. (Photo source: Insane in the Mom-Brain)
We had a few people who read their pieces to the crowd. I wasn't going to read, but then I had a funny little story that happened to me and I could tell that. Wanna hear it?
OK, twist my arm. Here we go:
On Thursday morning the conference hadn't started yet and we had some time to kill, so Robin and I headed over to Nordstrom Rack to see if we could find some deals. When we got to the store we split up and started shopping. We'd occasionally text one another to say where we were. Robin would text: "I'm in shoes. Flip flops are a steal. Come over here!" and I'd text back, "Are there any Crocs?" (there were, by the way, but I resisted buying another pair). After a while, I realized I needed to use the facilities, so I texted Robin, "Heading to the bathroom."
She has told me since that when that text came in, she had a feeling of dread creep up on her and she almost texted me a warning, but then changed her mind.
I headed into the Ladies' Room and I saw three stalls. The first one was clearly occupied as I could see a skirt in a pile on the floor and bare feet. I hesitated for a moment wondering if someone was stealing clothes, but at that point, I didn't have time to worry. I've had two kids and as I get older I don't have much time between "Gee, I need to pee" and "Oh crap, I'm going to pee my pants." I was doing the dance, because I was at the pants peeing stage and I really couldn't stop and worry about shoplifters.
I quickly jumped into the second stall with only a second or two to spare and relieved myself. As I sat there contemplating what I could do to achieve world peace, I heard a thunk in the stall next to me and I saw a pair of panties hit the floor. I realized then I wasn't dealing with a shoplifter.
It was immediately clear that the woman beside me had pooped her pants.
Now, I had a dilemma at this point. I was still mid-stream, so there wasn't much I could do immediately, except think about her delicate situation. Just moments before I myself had a near miss and could easily understand how this could happen. I felt bad for her.
Should I acknowledge her problem and offer to help? I could run out and buy her a clean pair of panties. But would she want a stranger to help her? Or would that be more embarrassing? Should I just ignore and pretend I didn't see her soiled undies casually tossed inches from my feet? I was confused.
I was just finishing my business when I decided I would offer to get her some clean underwear. I was getting myself put back together when suddenly the bathroom door banged open and someone ran into the third stall (the one on the other side of me) and began to hurl her guts into the bowl.
Are you kidding me?? One chick shitting her pants and the other barfing her lungs out?
I was done. I was out. I couldn't get involved. A pooper and a puker?? I am not a nice person. I can barely help my kids when they have accidents. I can go and buy a pair of clean panties for someone and toss them over the door, but I can't hold a strangers hair and help hit the mark. I can't offer to help one and leave the other.
No. No. No. I just want to pee alone!
I quickly buttoned my pants and ran out of the bathroom (nope, I didn't even stick around to wash my hands - that's how serious I was about getting away). I practically collided into a Nordstrom Rack employee. "Is everything OK?" she asked.
"No," I replied. "I think someone could use some help in the bathroom."
Sorry, Nordstrom girl, but I've done my part.
so freaking tired! But I feel good! There is nothing like being with like-minded people to recharge your battery. I feel energized and ready to get
to work - right after I take a nap.
This year the conference was held in
Chicago and I had a ton of fun.
I arrived a day early so I could finally spend some time with Nikki at Moms Who Drink and Swear and my BlogHer roomie Robin O'Bryant from Robin's Chicks. I got to ride in the official MWDAS minivan when Nikki picked me up at the airport. Only a few people stared at us while we screamed and hugged for a little too long. Then we picked up Robin and Nikki proceeded to wine and dine us. Well, actually just wined and dined me while Robin watched. See Robin is on a super duper high impact diet (she looks fan-freaking-tastic by the way) and she's half way to her
goal. She's in ketosis. (Which I'm not sure what that means except that it can give you really bad breath, so we had a code word that if she had bad breath I would say, "Robin, do you have a piece of gum?" and I'd wag my eyebrows really subtly so no one would know what I was talking about. I'm happy to report she's a good brusher and I never had to do that once.) Anyways, this ketosis thing is serious and if she cheats even ONCE her body will revolt and she will be back to square one. Of course she has absolutely no desire to do
that, so instead she huffed everyone's food all week.
Have you ever lived with someone who
can't eat or drink anything except protein shakes and chicken broth?
It is the guiltiest feeling in the world to shove food down your
gullet while your friend sits there with her ice water and swears “I'm fi-aaahhhh-nnnnn, ya'll!” (that's my written impression of
Robin's Mississippi accent). That girl was a rock. She has a steel will like none I've ever seen. I, on the other hand, felt I needed to eat for two since Robin wasn't consuming.
Besides rooming together, Robin and I
also put together a session on self publishing. We were joined by
Lela Davidson. We had a great turnout and I think people learned
something. We only had 45 minutes, but with the three of us talking,
we could have gone on all day!
It was so cool to meet so many of the bloggers who I read. I got to laugh like a hyena the whole time. I would like to apologize to anyone who I spit drinks, food, and just general spittle upon. I think every meal I ate was a choking hazard, because every single time I found myself laughing so hard I almost died - literally from that chunk stuck in my throat. I also got to reconnect with old friends I made last year. I think one of my favorites is Leslie AKA The Bearded Iris. She is funny online, but in person she is hysterical. Anyone who greets people, "Get over here and hug me, you hooker clown" is good people. Meanwhile, "hooker clown" is totally going into my repertoire now.
The highlight of the weekend was the
book signing for I Just Want to Pee Alone. A couple of months
ago, we realized there would be 14 contributors at BlogHer and so the
ridiculously organized powerhouse that is Kim Bongiorno flew into
action. With her help and her constant - oops, I mean timely - reminders we
were able to get it done. (Seriously, it probably would not have happened without Kim keeping me on task. Thank you, Kim.) Lucky for us, Kim's in-laws own a
restaurant within walking distance of the hotel where we were
staying. Guess what the restaurant was called? Yup. Bongiorno's.
(Chicago people, if you need some delicious food and you want to meet
the most adorable family ever, please go see them and bring your stretchy pants.) We took over
their outdoor patio space along the waterfront and had a book signing and reading under the
stars! It was bananas. We had a ton of people show up (thank goodness or
else we would have looked really stupid sitting there) and it was so
cool to meet everyone. If you came Friday night: Thank you, thank
you, thank you! It meant so much to all of us.
Nicole Shaw Leigh entertaining the crowd. (Photo source: Insane in the Mom-Brain)
We had a few people who read their pieces to the crowd. I wasn't going to read, but then I had a funny little story that happened to me and I could tell that. Wanna hear it?
OK, twist my arm. Here we go:
On Thursday morning the conference hadn't started yet and we had some time to kill, so Robin and I headed over to Nordstrom Rack to see if we could find some deals. When we got to the store we split up and started shopping. We'd occasionally text one another to say where we were. Robin would text: "I'm in shoes. Flip flops are a steal. Come over here!" and I'd text back, "Are there any Crocs?" (there were, by the way, but I resisted buying another pair). After a while, I realized I needed to use the facilities, so I texted Robin, "Heading to the bathroom."
She has told me since that when that text came in, she had a feeling of dread creep up on her and she almost texted me a warning, but then changed her mind.
I headed into the Ladies' Room and I saw three stalls. The first one was clearly occupied as I could see a skirt in a pile on the floor and bare feet. I hesitated for a moment wondering if someone was stealing clothes, but at that point, I didn't have time to worry. I've had two kids and as I get older I don't have much time between "Gee, I need to pee" and "Oh crap, I'm going to pee my pants." I was doing the dance, because I was at the pants peeing stage and I really couldn't stop and worry about shoplifters.
I quickly jumped into the second stall with only a second or two to spare and relieved myself. As I sat there contemplating what I could do to achieve world peace, I heard a thunk in the stall next to me and I saw a pair of panties hit the floor. I realized then I wasn't dealing with a shoplifter.
It was immediately clear that the woman beside me had pooped her pants.
Now, I had a dilemma at this point. I was still mid-stream, so there wasn't much I could do immediately, except think about her delicate situation. Just moments before I myself had a near miss and could easily understand how this could happen. I felt bad for her.
Should I acknowledge her problem and offer to help? I could run out and buy her a clean pair of panties. But would she want a stranger to help her? Or would that be more embarrassing? Should I just ignore and pretend I didn't see her soiled undies casually tossed inches from my feet? I was confused.
I was just finishing my business when I decided I would offer to get her some clean underwear. I was getting myself put back together when suddenly the bathroom door banged open and someone ran into the third stall (the one on the other side of me) and began to hurl her guts into the bowl.
Are you kidding me?? One chick shitting her pants and the other barfing her lungs out?
I was done. I was out. I couldn't get involved. A pooper and a puker?? I am not a nice person. I can barely help my kids when they have accidents. I can go and buy a pair of clean panties for someone and toss them over the door, but I can't hold a strangers hair and help hit the mark. I can't offer to help one and leave the other.
No. No. No. I just want to pee alone!
I quickly buttoned my pants and ran out of the bathroom (nope, I didn't even stick around to wash my hands - that's how serious I was about getting away). I practically collided into a Nordstrom Rack employee. "Is everything OK?" she asked.
"No," I replied. "I think someone could use some help in the bathroom."
Sorry, Nordstrom girl, but I've done my part.
July 23, 2013
Open Letter to Catherine and William
Dear Catherine and William,
Well, it sounds like the royal uterus is vacant once again. Congratulations you two. You've done it. You've got the heir, and you've got some time to work on a spare. Welcome to the toughest job you'll ever love (no, it's not the Peace Corps).
Source: Lego
I don't have much advice for royal parents, except maybe don't let the other royals get too close to him - especially the Queen. (What is her deal? Can she never just be happy? She's the Queen of England for goodness sake - smile!) Look, you guys seem FAIRLY normal (as normal as royalty can be on yachts in exotic places and greeting millions of adoring fans all while looking smashing) and the others just seem completely off their rocker. Oh! I've got another word of advice: Maybe don't let him know he's going to be King until like the day before? That's a lot of pressure to put on a kid and can you imagine a toddler who knows that someday he'll be a real king? Toddlers are already little dictators, trust me, you can't give them that kind of power! Make him think that he's going to have to grow up and work in a fast food restaurant to earn money for a state college (or the British equivalent) instead.
Now, let's get to the real issue at hand: What are you going to name him? I know you've been thinking about this for awhile and so have I. I'm a big fan of names like Henry and James, but don't do Hennree or Jaymes or else I'll never buy the commemorative plate. I'm trusting you guys not to screw this up. All I have left is the royal family to keep the sanctity of proper name spelling going.
No pressure, but no one is going to take King Jax very seriously.
Well, I should let you two get some sleep. If you find yourself up for a midnight feeding and you can't get back to sleep, try reading my new book I Just Want to Pee Alone (the title will make sense to you very soon) or follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
Love,
Jen
And now the immortal words of Jen Lancaster: "You know what Kate Middleton isn't going to name her baby? North."
So what do YOU think Kate and Will WON'T name their baby?
Well, it sounds like the royal uterus is vacant once again. Congratulations you two. You've done it. You've got the heir, and you've got some time to work on a spare. Welcome to the toughest job you'll ever love (no, it's not the Peace Corps).
Source: Lego
I don't have much advice for royal parents, except maybe don't let the other royals get too close to him - especially the Queen. (What is her deal? Can she never just be happy? She's the Queen of England for goodness sake - smile!) Look, you guys seem FAIRLY normal (as normal as royalty can be on yachts in exotic places and greeting millions of adoring fans all while looking smashing) and the others just seem completely off their rocker. Oh! I've got another word of advice: Maybe don't let him know he's going to be King until like the day before? That's a lot of pressure to put on a kid and can you imagine a toddler who knows that someday he'll be a real king? Toddlers are already little dictators, trust me, you can't give them that kind of power! Make him think that he's going to have to grow up and work in a fast food restaurant to earn money for a state college (or the British equivalent) instead.
Now, let's get to the real issue at hand: What are you going to name him? I know you've been thinking about this for awhile and so have I. I'm a big fan of names like Henry and James, but don't do Hennree or Jaymes or else I'll never buy the commemorative plate. I'm trusting you guys not to screw this up. All I have left is the royal family to keep the sanctity of proper name spelling going.
No pressure, but no one is going to take King Jax very seriously.
Well, I should let you two get some sleep. If you find yourself up for a midnight feeding and you can't get back to sleep, try reading my new book I Just Want to Pee Alone (the title will make sense to you very soon) or follow me on Facebook and Twitter.
Love,
Jen
And now the immortal words of Jen Lancaster: "You know what Kate Middleton isn't going to name her baby? North."
So what do YOU think Kate and Will WON'T name their baby?
July 18, 2013
Seeing an Old Friend for Dinner
A few nights ago we were kind of at a loss what to do for dinner while on vacation in NYC. We've done our favorite pizza dive (twice - the kids loved it so much they asked for a second night and we couldn't refuse). We've trekked out to Flushing for Chinese food and we'll do that again before we leave. We just couldn't decide what we wanted. So, I turned to my Facebook page.
My Facebook page is a wealth of information. When I need a new book to read, I ask the members of the page and within seconds, I have a list of must-reads. When I need fashion advice like should I wear a dress or cargo pants when I meet my editor for the first time they give solid advice like "wear a dress, you should look professional" and "wear your cargos and be yourself" and the occasional smart ass response: "wear a cargo dress." (Which, I will be inventing as soon as I get back home!) When we travel, I've asked for restaurant recommendations in St. Louis and Chicago and never once did that crew let me down. I knew they wouldn't lead me astray in NYC either. So I asked.
And I received.
I opened my messages to find a private message from Monsieur J. He explained to me that he saw my plea for a decent restaurant and he had a suggestion. He is a manager at Brasserie and he invited us to try out his restaurant for dinner. Well, what a coincidence. I knew Brasserie well, actually. Brasserie is located in the Seagram Building and I used to work there several eons ago. I spent many nights at Brasserie socializing with my co-workers back when we were bright young things. It's a beautiful restaurant with wonderful ambiance and a delicious menu.
I got excited at first. Wouldn't it be nice to go to Brasserie for dinner? A nice, quiet dinner. So different from the previous night's experience with Shake Shack where I stood in the rain for 20 minutes just for the honor of ordering a burger from a sullen woman who obviously hates her job, only to turn around and then stalk people while they ate hoping they'd hurry up and finish that damn shake they'd been nursing for the last half hour so I could have a place to sit and eat my burger while someone hungrily eyed my intake rate to see how fast I'd be done so they could have the table when I was through. The Circle of Life a la Shake Shack.
I asked the Hubs. "Can we go to Brasserie? You remember that place, don't you? We used to go after work."
"Sure I remember! I don't remember ever seeing kids in there though. Do you think kids can come?"
The kids! Drats! I'd forgotten about them. They'd been whining for McDonald's for days now. There was no way I was going to McD's but I wasn't sure they'd be welcome at Brasserie.
I emailed Monsieur J back. "Hi Monsieur J, I used to work upstairs at Seagram and we ate at the Brasserie quite a bit! I love that place. I'm traveling with my kids and we don't have any business casual dress. If you'd let us in the door, we'd love to come. Tonight is our last open night in NYC. Would we be able to get a table tonight? If capri pants and kids don't mix I completely understand."
Monsieur J responded that kids and capris would be just fine and to come on down. Woo-hoo!
I told the kids that we were going to "fancy" restaurant and Gomer asked, "Like Applebee's?"
(Man, I need to get my kids out more!) "Sort of. But a lot nicer than that. I need you guys to be on your best behavior."
Brasserie - Does it look fancier than Applebee's? I think it does.
They promised they would.
I don't know why I was worried. It's a French restaurant. They ply you with crusty loaves of bread and real butter. My kids stuffed themselves silly. But they ate it "fancy" - with their pinkies in the air. They ordered fresh lemonade and toasted one another's health.
Monsieur J was so awesome. He kept checking on us to make sure we were happy, but never interrupted our meal. The guy was a pro and a class act. In case you haven't guessed yet, Monsieur J is from France. (Why else would I call him "Monsieur" right??) He's from a little, itty, bitty town in France and he came to the Big Apple many years ago. He'd always wanted to live in New York City. He found a local girl and settled down for a long haul. I love these kinds of stories. I love to hear what brings people so far from their homes to new places and Monsieur J has a great story.
I would consider our dinner a success. Especially when you consider Gomer only burped once, but luckily no one was close enough to hear him and Adolpha put her napkin on her head like a babushka until she got The Look - you know the one.
My favorite part was when Gomer went to the restroom and came back saying, "Mom! You're right, this place IS fancy! The urinals are behind doors!" Well, if that doesn't convince you, I don't know what will.
We ate until we couldn't take another bite and that's when Monsieur J brought out a tray of sweets for us to try. What do you know? We found some more room and polished those off too.
Thank you, Monsieur J and the staff at Brasserie! I had a great time hitting an old haunt and a delicious meal! The next time we're in NYC, we'll be back!
My Facebook page is a wealth of information. When I need a new book to read, I ask the members of the page and within seconds, I have a list of must-reads. When I need fashion advice like should I wear a dress or cargo pants when I meet my editor for the first time they give solid advice like "wear a dress, you should look professional" and "wear your cargos and be yourself" and the occasional smart ass response: "wear a cargo dress." (Which, I will be inventing as soon as I get back home!) When we travel, I've asked for restaurant recommendations in St. Louis and Chicago and never once did that crew let me down. I knew they wouldn't lead me astray in NYC either. So I asked.
And I received.
I opened my messages to find a private message from Monsieur J. He explained to me that he saw my plea for a decent restaurant and he had a suggestion. He is a manager at Brasserie and he invited us to try out his restaurant for dinner. Well, what a coincidence. I knew Brasserie well, actually. Brasserie is located in the Seagram Building and I used to work there several eons ago. I spent many nights at Brasserie socializing with my co-workers back when we were bright young things. It's a beautiful restaurant with wonderful ambiance and a delicious menu.
I got excited at first. Wouldn't it be nice to go to Brasserie for dinner? A nice, quiet dinner. So different from the previous night's experience with Shake Shack where I stood in the rain for 20 minutes just for the honor of ordering a burger from a sullen woman who obviously hates her job, only to turn around and then stalk people while they ate hoping they'd hurry up and finish that damn shake they'd been nursing for the last half hour so I could have a place to sit and eat my burger while someone hungrily eyed my intake rate to see how fast I'd be done so they could have the table when I was through. The Circle of Life a la Shake Shack.
I asked the Hubs. "Can we go to Brasserie? You remember that place, don't you? We used to go after work."
"Sure I remember! I don't remember ever seeing kids in there though. Do you think kids can come?"
The kids! Drats! I'd forgotten about them. They'd been whining for McDonald's for days now. There was no way I was going to McD's but I wasn't sure they'd be welcome at Brasserie.
I emailed Monsieur J back. "Hi Monsieur J, I used to work upstairs at Seagram and we ate at the Brasserie quite a bit! I love that place. I'm traveling with my kids and we don't have any business casual dress. If you'd let us in the door, we'd love to come. Tonight is our last open night in NYC. Would we be able to get a table tonight? If capri pants and kids don't mix I completely understand."
Monsieur J responded that kids and capris would be just fine and to come on down. Woo-hoo!
I told the kids that we were going to "fancy" restaurant and Gomer asked, "Like Applebee's?"
(Man, I need to get my kids out more!) "Sort of. But a lot nicer than that. I need you guys to be on your best behavior."
Brasserie - Does it look fancier than Applebee's? I think it does.
They promised they would.
I don't know why I was worried. It's a French restaurant. They ply you with crusty loaves of bread and real butter. My kids stuffed themselves silly. But they ate it "fancy" - with their pinkies in the air. They ordered fresh lemonade and toasted one another's health.
Monsieur J was so awesome. He kept checking on us to make sure we were happy, but never interrupted our meal. The guy was a pro and a class act. In case you haven't guessed yet, Monsieur J is from France. (Why else would I call him "Monsieur" right??) He's from a little, itty, bitty town in France and he came to the Big Apple many years ago. He'd always wanted to live in New York City. He found a local girl and settled down for a long haul. I love these kinds of stories. I love to hear what brings people so far from their homes to new places and Monsieur J has a great story.
I would consider our dinner a success. Especially when you consider Gomer only burped once, but luckily no one was close enough to hear him and Adolpha put her napkin on her head like a babushka until she got The Look - you know the one.
My favorite part was when Gomer went to the restroom and came back saying, "Mom! You're right, this place IS fancy! The urinals are behind doors!" Well, if that doesn't convince you, I don't know what will.
We ate until we couldn't take another bite and that's when Monsieur J brought out a tray of sweets for us to try. What do you know? We found some more room and polished those off too.
Thank you, Monsieur J and the staff at Brasserie! I had a great time hitting an old haunt and a delicious meal! The next time we're in NYC, we'll be back!
July 15, 2013
Come and See Me?
Hey you guys, there is a lot going on right now and I wanted to circle back so I could bring you up to speed so that we can all be on the same page and shit. (Can you tell that I've been overhearing way too many corporate types on the phone lately??)
As you know, I'm in New York City this week. Besides seeing friends and family, I met my agent and my editor for the first time in real life. EEEK! Luckily, I liked them both! Can you imagine how awkward that conversation would have gone if I didn't??? If really looks like this book thing is happening. I was glad to hear that, because I've spent my entire summer indoors and away from my kids writing my manuscript.
Yesterday we drove up to New Hampshire, to visit my friend, Mary. We're going to hang out here for a couple of days and sample the chowdah and do a little composting. After this we'll go back to NYC for a bit longer then finally home for a few days.
Then I wash my clothes really fast and I hop back on a plane for Chicago to attend BlogHer. I'll be at BlogHer from July 24-27. Are any of you guys going? If you are, I'd love to say hello.
Besides the bar, there are a few places you can guarantee to find me at BlogHer:
The first is Friday where I'll be presenting with Robin O'Bryant and Lela Davidson on the topic Is Self-Publishing for You? Between the three of us, we've learned a lot and we're ready to share all of our tips, tricks, secrets, and missteps.
That same night I'll be the Voices of the Year Community Keynote. Once again I was chosen as a Voice of the Year. It's a really exciting honor and I'm happy that so many of my blogging friends were also chosen this year. I wasn't selected as a reader, but I did read the VOTY piece at Listen to Your Mother in May and you can see me reading it here.
I'll be there for the readings and then I need to high tail it out of there, because ...
Friday night at 7:30, I will join 15 of the contributors to I Just Want to Pee Alone at a book signing event off site. You do NOT need to be a BlogHer attendee to join us, but you DO need a ticket if you want a copy of the book and a drink. Here is all the information you need to find us. I know what you're thinking at this point: "Gee, Jen, that sounds fun and you're fine and all, but I wonder if my FAVORITE blogger is going." I'll bet she is. Check out the complete list:
(Now that I've looked at all of this, I think I'll be sleeping in on Saturday, so there isn't much chance of finding me that day, so we'd better hook up Friday!) If you're thinking about coming to this event, don't think too long, because space is limited and we've only got a few tickets left and the deadline to buy tickets is July 22.
As you know, I'm in New York City this week. Besides seeing friends and family, I met my agent and my editor for the first time in real life. EEEK! Luckily, I liked them both! Can you imagine how awkward that conversation would have gone if I didn't??? If really looks like this book thing is happening. I was glad to hear that, because I've spent my entire summer indoors and away from my kids writing my manuscript.
Yesterday we drove up to New Hampshire, to visit my friend, Mary. We're going to hang out here for a couple of days and sample the chowdah and do a little composting. After this we'll go back to NYC for a bit longer then finally home for a few days.
Then I wash my clothes really fast and I hop back on a plane for Chicago to attend BlogHer. I'll be at BlogHer from July 24-27. Are any of you guys going? If you are, I'd love to say hello.
Besides the bar, there are a few places you can guarantee to find me at BlogHer:
The first is Friday where I'll be presenting with Robin O'Bryant and Lela Davidson on the topic Is Self-Publishing for You? Between the three of us, we've learned a lot and we're ready to share all of our tips, tricks, secrets, and missteps.
That same night I'll be the Voices of the Year Community Keynote. Once again I was chosen as a Voice of the Year. It's a really exciting honor and I'm happy that so many of my blogging friends were also chosen this year. I wasn't selected as a reader, but I did read the VOTY piece at Listen to Your Mother in May and you can see me reading it here.
I'll be there for the readings and then I need to high tail it out of there, because ...
Friday night at 7:30, I will join 15 of the contributors to I Just Want to Pee Alone at a book signing event off site. You do NOT need to be a BlogHer attendee to join us, but you DO need a ticket if you want a copy of the book and a drink. Here is all the information you need to find us. I know what you're thinking at this point: "Gee, Jen, that sounds fun and you're fine and all, but I wonder if my FAVORITE blogger is going." I'll bet she is. Check out the complete list:
(Now that I've looked at all of this, I think I'll be sleeping in on Saturday, so there isn't much chance of finding me that day, so we'd better hook up Friday!) If you're thinking about coming to this event, don't think too long, because space is limited and we've only got a few tickets left and the deadline to buy tickets is July 22.
July 11, 2013
We're Not in Kansas Anymore!
NYC I am here! Last night we finally arrived at our final destination: NYC!
As you know, the Hubs grew up here and I lived here for several years, but we've never brought Gomer and Adolpha here before. We decided to come and visit so they could celebrate their grandmother's birthday.
Yesterday we were stranded in the Chicago airport (so close to Moms Who Drink and Swear and yet so far!!) for about five hours. Seriously, I was thisclose to calling Nikki to come and rescue us. We got on our plane and settled in for take off and I promptly fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later when the captain made an announcement. "What? What did he say?" I mumbled sleepily. "Are we there?"
"Not even close," the Hubs replied, irritated with me. "We still haven't left. Some sort of mechanical problem. Did you enjoy your sleep?"
Hmm ... well, yes, I did, actually. "I dreamed about pizza," I said. Like good (former) New Yorkers, the Hubs and I have a real appreciation for New York style pizza. Believe it or not, Kansas pizza is not at all similar. We've been extolling the virtues of NY style pizza for years and we had promised our kids we would have pizza for dinner as soon as we arrived at our scheduled 5 P.M. arrival time.
I looked at my watch. It was already 4:30. Uh oh.
Long story short, they made us leave the plane because they said they weren't sure they could fix it and they were looking for a new one. (Thanks, United, that would be great, because I wasn't thrilled about flying in a plane that was "broken" an hour ago.) The Hubs and I got a little grumpy thinking about our delicious pizza and because our cell phone batteries were starting to die. (It's amazing how much juice Candy Crush can suck from your phone when you're stranded in an airport!) The Hubs wandered off to find an empty outlet and recharge our batteries - literally and figuratively.
Finally, the plane was fixed, but now there was a crazy weather thing going on and they didn't want us to fly through that. (Again, thank you for that. I am not a fan of turbulence. Or sheer winds.) We continued to wait.
My kids burned through all of their activities to do and resorted to playing catch with THIS little miracle toy. They scarfed their snacks I had packed for both going to New York and coming home, but only before they asked, "We can still have pizza when we get to New York even if we eat all of these snacks, right??" We met some nice Canadian ladies who said, "Your kids are well behaved, eh?" (The kindest compliment I could ever receive. My job as a mother is done.)
Finally, finally, the plane was fixed, the weather had passed and we were the only flight of the night getting out. Things were going our way!
They announced it was time to board and we should line up according to our "grouping." There were four or five groups and thanks to my dad and his mileage plus points we were in group one - the shortest line. We grabbed the kids and took our place at the end of the line. As Adolpha and I took up the rear, a drunk guy (our gate was conveniently located next to the bar and more than one of our fellow passengers spent the layover in there) joined the line behind me and looked me up and down. He took in my half pants (adorable capris, thank you very much!) and the Hubs' cargo shorts (new for this trip!) and our two kids and asked me, "Are you sure you're in the right line? Are you Group One? This line is for Global Services."
I turned around and recognized him as the douche who had been up at the desk earlier in the evening complaining very loudly that weather was not a reason to detain him. He had berated the customer service rep (whose job must suck, btw on a night like that) up one side and down the other about how he was extremely important and had to get out of Chicago right away and get back to New York, because did he mention yet that he's extremely important, and the world was going to end if he didn't get back tonight or something like that.
I have no idea what Global Services is. I can read though and my ticket status was on the list for Group One. I looked his very important drunk ass up and down with such a look of haughty disdain that only I can achieve after sitting in a airport for five hours trying to entertain two kids (and a fidgety husband).
"Of course I belong here. Where else would I belong?" I said, glaring at him.
He had the decency to take a step back and get out of my personal space.
The even drunker guy behind him said, "Well, you never can tell."
I turned around and eyed him up and down with a withering look too, "No. You guys sure can't."
We got on the plane and just about everyone had boarded when Adolpha had a horrible realization. She grabbed my arm and the look on her face was pure panic. If Adolpha knew the phrase, "Holy shit" she would have yelled it.
"What's the matter, Adolpha?" I asked.
She started wheezing and could barely form the words, "Blankie! Gone!"
When we were killing time back at the gate, she emptied her backpack of things to do and she took out her favorite blanket. You know. The one she can't sleep without, the one she can't be comforted without, the one that she's had since birth that will probably join her on her wedding night in some exotic locale. "It's not here!" Her wails practically echoed back from her empty bag.
"Son of a bitch!" I whispered. (Hopefully under my breath. Otherwise, now Adolpha knows what to say the next time Blankie is missing.)
I tore through her bag throwing stuff everywhere. She was right. I accused the Hubs of losing it. "I was asleep on the last plane. You packed them up. Did you leave it?"
"We never got it out," he said. "Don't yell at me."
"I left it by the windows!" Adolpha cried. "I wanted to show Blankie the airplanes."
Fuck!! (That one was in my head.)
Have you ever tried to squeeze past a group of weary travelers getting onto a plane with all of their carry on luggage so you could get off a plane?
Well, let me tell you folks. It is not easy. Not at all. It was a miracle I made it. I would like to apologize now to every single person who got my ass in their face, my elbow in their ribs, and their toes stepped on by me as I FLEW to the front of the plane shouting, "I'm sorry, we left a very important item in the gate area!" or "Excuse me, mother with an emergency coming through!"
"What's wrong?" the most adorable flight attendant asked me when I broke through to the front of the plane.
"We left a very important blanket out there in the boarding area. I need it."
"Of course you do, honey," he said. "Go. We will wait for you!"
Bless you, adorable flight attendant!
I ran up the hallway and burst through the door like a madwoman. I looked around wildly and there was Blankie. He was all bundled up in a heap next to the windows where he almost watched our plane take off and lose him forever.
I turned around and got back on line and I was the last person to board that plane. "You found it!" adorable flight attendant said.
"Yes! Thank you!"
That brown thing entwined around her body? Yeah, that's Blankie. It would have been a very long night if we realized he was missing a few minutes later!
We arrived in New York City without anymore drama and after a few calls, found our car and made it to the hotel.
"We're not going to have pizza now, are we?" asked Gomer, sadly. "The pizza place is closed."
"Gomer, have you ever heard the phrase 'the city that never sleeps'?"
"No."
"Well, now you have."
The Hubs left us to settle into the hotel while he went and fought the crowd (Truly. A midnight crowd at the pizzeria as busy as a noon crowd) and wait for half an hour for a pizza. God bless you, 24 hour pizza joints!
My kids have done a lot of cool things in their short lives, but I think eating hot New York style pizza at midnight is at the top of their list now.
As you know, the Hubs grew up here and I lived here for several years, but we've never brought Gomer and Adolpha here before. We decided to come and visit so they could celebrate their grandmother's birthday.
Yesterday we were stranded in the Chicago airport (so close to Moms Who Drink and Swear and yet so far!!) for about five hours. Seriously, I was thisclose to calling Nikki to come and rescue us. We got on our plane and settled in for take off and I promptly fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later when the captain made an announcement. "What? What did he say?" I mumbled sleepily. "Are we there?"
"Not even close," the Hubs replied, irritated with me. "We still haven't left. Some sort of mechanical problem. Did you enjoy your sleep?"
Hmm ... well, yes, I did, actually. "I dreamed about pizza," I said. Like good (former) New Yorkers, the Hubs and I have a real appreciation for New York style pizza. Believe it or not, Kansas pizza is not at all similar. We've been extolling the virtues of NY style pizza for years and we had promised our kids we would have pizza for dinner as soon as we arrived at our scheduled 5 P.M. arrival time.
I looked at my watch. It was already 4:30. Uh oh.
Long story short, they made us leave the plane because they said they weren't sure they could fix it and they were looking for a new one. (Thanks, United, that would be great, because I wasn't thrilled about flying in a plane that was "broken" an hour ago.) The Hubs and I got a little grumpy thinking about our delicious pizza and because our cell phone batteries were starting to die. (It's amazing how much juice Candy Crush can suck from your phone when you're stranded in an airport!) The Hubs wandered off to find an empty outlet and recharge our batteries - literally and figuratively.
Finally, the plane was fixed, but now there was a crazy weather thing going on and they didn't want us to fly through that. (Again, thank you for that. I am not a fan of turbulence. Or sheer winds.) We continued to wait.
My kids burned through all of their activities to do and resorted to playing catch with THIS little miracle toy. They scarfed their snacks I had packed for both going to New York and coming home, but only before they asked, "We can still have pizza when we get to New York even if we eat all of these snacks, right??" We met some nice Canadian ladies who said, "Your kids are well behaved, eh?" (The kindest compliment I could ever receive. My job as a mother is done.)
Finally, finally, the plane was fixed, the weather had passed and we were the only flight of the night getting out. Things were going our way!
They announced it was time to board and we should line up according to our "grouping." There were four or five groups and thanks to my dad and his mileage plus points we were in group one - the shortest line. We grabbed the kids and took our place at the end of the line. As Adolpha and I took up the rear, a drunk guy (our gate was conveniently located next to the bar and more than one of our fellow passengers spent the layover in there) joined the line behind me and looked me up and down. He took in my half pants (adorable capris, thank you very much!) and the Hubs' cargo shorts (new for this trip!) and our two kids and asked me, "Are you sure you're in the right line? Are you Group One? This line is for Global Services."
I turned around and recognized him as the douche who had been up at the desk earlier in the evening complaining very loudly that weather was not a reason to detain him. He had berated the customer service rep (whose job must suck, btw on a night like that) up one side and down the other about how he was extremely important and had to get out of Chicago right away and get back to New York, because did he mention yet that he's extremely important, and the world was going to end if he didn't get back tonight or something like that.
I have no idea what Global Services is. I can read though and my ticket status was on the list for Group One. I looked his very important drunk ass up and down with such a look of haughty disdain that only I can achieve after sitting in a airport for five hours trying to entertain two kids (and a fidgety husband).
"Of course I belong here. Where else would I belong?" I said, glaring at him.
He had the decency to take a step back and get out of my personal space.
The even drunker guy behind him said, "Well, you never can tell."
I turned around and eyed him up and down with a withering look too, "No. You guys sure can't."
We got on the plane and just about everyone had boarded when Adolpha had a horrible realization. She grabbed my arm and the look on her face was pure panic. If Adolpha knew the phrase, "Holy shit" she would have yelled it.
"What's the matter, Adolpha?" I asked.
She started wheezing and could barely form the words, "Blankie! Gone!"
When we were killing time back at the gate, she emptied her backpack of things to do and she took out her favorite blanket. You know. The one she can't sleep without, the one she can't be comforted without, the one that she's had since birth that will probably join her on her wedding night in some exotic locale. "It's not here!" Her wails practically echoed back from her empty bag.
"Son of a bitch!" I whispered. (Hopefully under my breath. Otherwise, now Adolpha knows what to say the next time Blankie is missing.)
I tore through her bag throwing stuff everywhere. She was right. I accused the Hubs of losing it. "I was asleep on the last plane. You packed them up. Did you leave it?"
"We never got it out," he said. "Don't yell at me."
"I left it by the windows!" Adolpha cried. "I wanted to show Blankie the airplanes."
Fuck!! (That one was in my head.)
Have you ever tried to squeeze past a group of weary travelers getting onto a plane with all of their carry on luggage so you could get off a plane?
Well, let me tell you folks. It is not easy. Not at all. It was a miracle I made it. I would like to apologize now to every single person who got my ass in their face, my elbow in their ribs, and their toes stepped on by me as I FLEW to the front of the plane shouting, "I'm sorry, we left a very important item in the gate area!" or "Excuse me, mother with an emergency coming through!"
"What's wrong?" the most adorable flight attendant asked me when I broke through to the front of the plane.
"We left a very important blanket out there in the boarding area. I need it."
"Of course you do, honey," he said. "Go. We will wait for you!"
Bless you, adorable flight attendant!
I ran up the hallway and burst through the door like a madwoman. I looked around wildly and there was Blankie. He was all bundled up in a heap next to the windows where he almost watched our plane take off and lose him forever.
I turned around and got back on line and I was the last person to board that plane. "You found it!" adorable flight attendant said.
"Yes! Thank you!"
That brown thing entwined around her body? Yeah, that's Blankie. It would have been a very long night if we realized he was missing a few minutes later!
We arrived in New York City without anymore drama and after a few calls, found our car and made it to the hotel.
"We're not going to have pizza now, are we?" asked Gomer, sadly. "The pizza place is closed."
"Gomer, have you ever heard the phrase 'the city that never sleeps'?"
"No."
"Well, now you have."
The Hubs left us to settle into the hotel while he went and fought the crowd (Truly. A midnight crowd at the pizzeria as busy as a noon crowd) and wait for half an hour for a pizza. God bless you, 24 hour pizza joints!
My kids have done a lot of cool things in their short lives, but I think eating hot New York style pizza at midnight is at the top of their list now.
