Friday, August 31, 2012
Back-To-School Friday
It's Friday and I've survived the first week of school. I seriously can't believe I have two 4th graders and a 7th grader. They're SO friggin big (literally...Bob is as tall as I than I am)!
Some of my kids were more excited than others...
Bob couldn't wait. She planned this outfit two weeks ago and had a professional blowout in preparation of her 7th grade debut:
The highlight of her outfit? Her new floral Doc Martins (I think I have a fashionista on my hands...)
But regardless of the level of enthusiasm for a new year of school, ready or not, here we go...
Here's hoping for a good year and wishing you one too!
P.S. And good luck to the teacher who gets this...
Some of my kids were more excited than others...
Bob couldn't wait. She planned this outfit two weeks ago and had a professional blowout in preparation of her 7th grade debut:
The highlight of her outfit? Her new floral Doc Martins (I think I have a fashionista on my hands...)
Ben wore his trepidation blatantly...
But regardless of the level of enthusiasm for a new year of school, ready or not, here we go...
Here's hoping for a good year and wishing you one too!
P.S. And good luck to the teacher who gets this...
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Fire! Fire!
This afternoon I left Livi alone in the house for about a half hour. She's nine. She can handle it right? It's not like I haven't tried this before with Ben.
(Click here to read my Momtourage story "How Old is Old Enough")
So I said to her "If there's a fire, call 911 and go to the neighbors. Okay?"
No response.
"Do you hear me?"
"Livi?"
"YES!"
"Okay! I just never know when you're listening!"
So tonight I was broiling lambchops when smoke started pouring out the the oven. My lambchop was on fire.
As I beat the lambchop with a dishtowel and Scott and I scrambled around the house to open windows Livi said "Is this one of those times I'm supposed to call 911 and go to the neighbors?"
Smartass.
(Click here to read my Momtourage story "How Old is Old Enough")
So I said to her "If there's a fire, call 911 and go to the neighbors. Okay?"
No response.
"Do you hear me?"
"Livi?"
"YES!"
"Okay! I just never know when you're listening!"
So tonight I was broiling lambchops when smoke started pouring out the the oven. My lambchop was on fire.
As I beat the lambchop with a dishtowel and Scott and I scrambled around the house to open windows Livi said "Is this one of those times I'm supposed to call 911 and go to the neighbors?"
Smartass.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Grapes of Wrath...and Other Tasty Snacks...
"Grapes please."
All my daughter and her playdate wanted were some grapes to snack on while they finished their homework.
Simple enough request. Heck. I even had fresh grapes in the fridge.
"No problem." I said.
I went to the fridge, pulled out the bag of grapes and took them to the sink to wash them. Unfortunately, my sink was piled high with dirty dishes crusted in tomato sauce, microwave pancakes and dried out pasta.
Obviously, I couldn’t wash the grapes until the sink was empty and cleaned out, so I opened the dishwasher to fill it with dirty dishes. It was full of clean dishes.
"Mom? Can we have some grapes?"
"Yeah. I just need to wash them. Hold on."
I pulled out the top tier of the dishwasher to start unloading. I got two rows of lowballs unloaded when I took out a wine glass that hadn’t successfully made it through the rinse cycle. Yeah, yeah…I should have hand-washed it. I get lazy when I drink merlot.
As I lifted the broken glass out, a conveniently large chunk of thin glass dropped off. I picked it off and went to throw the pieces in the trash. The wine glass shattered against the side of the trash can turning into hundreds of less conveniently sized shards that jingled over the edge of the trash can, and on to the floor.
So I swept the floor. And then I mopped it. Twice. I got down on my hands and knees and wiped the surrounding floor down finishing up the roll of the paper towels. No glass was getting past me.
"Mom, are you getting me grapes?"
"Yes! I'm trying! You’ve gotta wait a second.'
I put away the mop and broom and went back to unloading the dishwasher. Dishes, glasses, and silverware all went back into place. I was momentarily stumped by half a salad tong, but I just shoved it into my miscellaneous utensil drawer in hopes the other half would materialize one day when I needed it.
I put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Nice and full. I do take pride in my loading skills.
I figured I should run it before dinner so I wouldn’t have to deal with another dish pile-up when I noticed the “rinse aid” light was lit. AAARRRRRGGGHHH!!!!
I fished around under the sink and found an almost emptied bottle of Jet Dry. I filled the little circular compartment with what was left of the Jet Dry and hoped it was enough.
The light went off and I popped in a cascade swirly cake (which I shockingly had), slammed the dishwasher door shut and pushed “Start.”
Wwwwooooooogggge….Ah, the sound of accomplishment.
Now the sink was empty. Of dishes at least. Lumps of bread crust, soggy cereal flakes, half-eaten apple slices, and crushed tomato bits stopped up the drain.
I picked it clean and sprayed it down with some Lemon Fresh 409. God bless 409.
I was now ready to wash grapes.
I opened the cabinet under the stove-top and poked around for my colander. Nothing. Where the heck is that stupid colander!?
“MOM?...”
“I’M WORKIN’ ON IT! I’M WORKIN’ ON IT! GRAPES ARE COMING! KEEP YOUR PANTS ON!”
“…what does that mean?” I heard her ask her friend. Her friend shrugged.
I sighed. Exasperated. Grapeless. How hard could it be to give my kid some friggin’ grapes! Why does everything I do around this house have to be so complicated! For ONCE, I’d like to need a grape and be able to HAVE a grape! Immediately! Or at least without having to do 20 other things first!
I was angry. This was so frustrating!
After pillaging through several cabinets and flinging All-Clad pots and cast-iron pans around - finding strange solace in the loud clanging of pots as I slammed into each other and onto the kitchen floor - I found the colander three cabinets later hiding behind a heavy mixer. I held it aloft - like the Olympic torch signalling the beginning of the games - YES!
I ignored the bits and pieces of dried crap that crusted some up a couple of the holes rationalizing that the colander had been through the dishwasher at some point in the past and was clean. Hence, any dirt found on the colander was “clean dirt.”
And then I washed the grapes, plunked them wet into clean bowl and victoriously served them. “Yes, my children. I - your mother - have produced clean grapes for your eating pleasure. Enjoy them. Savor them. These grapes I give to you this day…”
I started putting away the pots and pans on the kitchen floor when Livi asked, “Mom? Can I have a paper towel?”
I got up to get her a paper towel. The roll was empty...
All my daughter and her playdate wanted were some grapes to snack on while they finished their homework.
Simple enough request. Heck. I even had fresh grapes in the fridge.
"No problem." I said.
I went to the fridge, pulled out the bag of grapes and took them to the sink to wash them. Unfortunately, my sink was piled high with dirty dishes crusted in tomato sauce, microwave pancakes and dried out pasta.
Obviously, I couldn’t wash the grapes until the sink was empty and cleaned out, so I opened the dishwasher to fill it with dirty dishes. It was full of clean dishes.
"Mom? Can we have some grapes?"
"Yeah. I just need to wash them. Hold on."
I pulled out the top tier of the dishwasher to start unloading. I got two rows of lowballs unloaded when I took out a wine glass that hadn’t successfully made it through the rinse cycle. Yeah, yeah…I should have hand-washed it. I get lazy when I drink merlot.
As I lifted the broken glass out, a conveniently large chunk of thin glass dropped off. I picked it off and went to throw the pieces in the trash. The wine glass shattered against the side of the trash can turning into hundreds of less conveniently sized shards that jingled over the edge of the trash can, and on to the floor.
So I swept the floor. And then I mopped it. Twice. I got down on my hands and knees and wiped the surrounding floor down finishing up the roll of the paper towels. No glass was getting past me.
"Mom, are you getting me grapes?"
"Yes! I'm trying! You’ve gotta wait a second.'
I put away the mop and broom and went back to unloading the dishwasher. Dishes, glasses, and silverware all went back into place. I was momentarily stumped by half a salad tong, but I just shoved it into my miscellaneous utensil drawer in hopes the other half would materialize one day when I needed it.
I put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Nice and full. I do take pride in my loading skills.
I figured I should run it before dinner so I wouldn’t have to deal with another dish pile-up when I noticed the “rinse aid” light was lit. AAARRRRRGGGHHH!!!!
I fished around under the sink and found an almost emptied bottle of Jet Dry. I filled the little circular compartment with what was left of the Jet Dry and hoped it was enough.
The light went off and I popped in a cascade swirly cake (which I shockingly had), slammed the dishwasher door shut and pushed “Start.”
Wwwwooooooogggge….Ah, the sound of accomplishment.
Now the sink was empty. Of dishes at least. Lumps of bread crust, soggy cereal flakes, half-eaten apple slices, and crushed tomato bits stopped up the drain.
I picked it clean and sprayed it down with some Lemon Fresh 409. God bless 409.
I was now ready to wash grapes.
I opened the cabinet under the stove-top and poked around for my colander. Nothing. Where the heck is that stupid colander!?
“MOM?...”
“I’M WORKIN’ ON IT! I’M WORKIN’ ON IT! GRAPES ARE COMING! KEEP YOUR PANTS ON!”
“…what does that mean?” I heard her ask her friend. Her friend shrugged.
I sighed. Exasperated. Grapeless. How hard could it be to give my kid some friggin’ grapes! Why does everything I do around this house have to be so complicated! For ONCE, I’d like to need a grape and be able to HAVE a grape! Immediately! Or at least without having to do 20 other things first!
I was angry. This was so frustrating!
After pillaging through several cabinets and flinging All-Clad pots and cast-iron pans around - finding strange solace in the loud clanging of pots as I slammed into each other and onto the kitchen floor - I found the colander three cabinets later hiding behind a heavy mixer. I held it aloft - like the Olympic torch signalling the beginning of the games - YES!
I ignored the bits and pieces of dried crap that crusted some up a couple of the holes rationalizing that the colander had been through the dishwasher at some point in the past and was clean. Hence, any dirt found on the colander was “clean dirt.”
And then I washed the grapes, plunked them wet into clean bowl and victoriously served them. “Yes, my children. I - your mother - have produced clean grapes for your eating pleasure. Enjoy them. Savor them. These grapes I give to you this day…”
I started putting away the pots and pans on the kitchen floor when Livi asked, “Mom? Can I have a paper towel?”
I got up to get her a paper towel. The roll was empty...
Sunday, August 26, 2012
It's Not A Party 'Til The Small Boy Barfs...
My son barfs. A lot.
He always has. At 10 months he was already at the Occupational Therapist to be evaluated for a bad gag reflex.
He chokes on everything. He chokes on chicken, he chokes on blueberries...Hell, he's choked on milk! And as he's gotten older, it hasn't gotten better. I'll say to him "Chew, Ben, chew!" and he'll smile at me with a mouth packed with buttered wheel pasta. And he'll giggle. Then he'll choke, and out it comes.
He throws up everywhere. He's thrown up at the market ("Clean Up on aisle 5" was heard shortly thereafter), he's thrown up at school, he's thrown up at Sea World he's thrown up at Nate N' Als's in Beverly Hills. But mostly, he throws up at birthday parties sending nervous mothers clasping their babies and running for the hills.
"Is he sick?" They ask trying to sound like they're not calculating how long their child was exposed to mine.
"No. He just chokes. A lot."
"Oh." They say and smile nonchalantly. But it doesn't go unnoticed that the parent and child keep a "healthy" distance from us for the rest of the party.
He can't help himself. He gets so excited. There are treats galore; goldfish, pretzels, chicken nuggets, grapes and birthday cake. He can't get it all in fast enough. And then there's the running around. Nothing says "puke" like a belly full of cake and a bouncer. Especially for someone who'll barf going over a speed bump.
So we keep working on the chewing and the not over-stuffing his mouth, and the learning to sit still for at least a few minutes after we eat.
But right now, we're off to another birthday party. He's excited. He'll swim, he'll slide, he'll eat cake and he'll stuff handfuls of goldfish into his mouth.
And that's when the party really begins...
Originally published 10/19/10
He always has. At 10 months he was already at the Occupational Therapist to be evaluated for a bad gag reflex.
He chokes on everything. He chokes on chicken, he chokes on blueberries...Hell, he's choked on milk! And as he's gotten older, it hasn't gotten better. I'll say to him "Chew, Ben, chew!" and he'll smile at me with a mouth packed with buttered wheel pasta. And he'll giggle. Then he'll choke, and out it comes.
He throws up everywhere. He's thrown up at the market ("Clean Up on aisle 5" was heard shortly thereafter), he's thrown up at school, he's thrown up at Sea World he's thrown up at Nate N' Als's in Beverly Hills. But mostly, he throws up at birthday parties sending nervous mothers clasping their babies and running for the hills.
"Is he sick?" They ask trying to sound like they're not calculating how long their child was exposed to mine.
"No. He just chokes. A lot."
"Oh." They say and smile nonchalantly. But it doesn't go unnoticed that the parent and child keep a "healthy" distance from us for the rest of the party.
He can't help himself. He gets so excited. There are treats galore; goldfish, pretzels, chicken nuggets, grapes and birthday cake. He can't get it all in fast enough. And then there's the running around. Nothing says "puke" like a belly full of cake and a bouncer. Especially for someone who'll barf going over a speed bump.
So we keep working on the chewing and the not over-stuffing his mouth, and the learning to sit still for at least a few minutes after we eat.
But right now, we're off to another birthday party. He's excited. He'll swim, he'll slide, he'll eat cake and he'll stuff handfuls of goldfish into his mouth.
And that's when the party really begins...
Originally published 10/19/10
Sunday, August 19, 2012
My Morning as a 'Big' Author at Barnes & Noble. Then I Came Home and Did Laundry
This morning was my reading and signing of "On My Way to the Bath" at Barnes & Noble and it was very exciting stuff.
I had "signage." (Note: The sign came home with me. I put it up in my bedroom...over my bed.)
A bunch of my super supportive awesome blogger buds showed up to give me a little support: (from the left: Donna Tetreault of SuperMommyNot.com; Matt Steiner of Launch Education; Jenny Feldon of Karma (Continued...); me; and Christina Simon of Beyond the Brochure).
Some adorable boys asked to take their picture with "the real Livi": (that's her brother in the background looking a little neglected...)
And of course I had to take a picture of my book in the front of the store RIGHT NEXT to Jonathan Tropper's "This is Where I Leave You," and over "Fifty Shades of Grey." (Keep in mind this does not mean that my book is about sex or sitting shiva...)
And finally, the reading. (Watch the hysterical little girl who was turning pages for me. She was trying so hard to do it right). Thanks to everyone who showed up and thanks to Barnes & Noble for hosting me!!
I had "signage." (Note: The sign came home with me. I put it up in my bedroom...over my bed.)
A bunch of my super supportive awesome blogger buds showed up to give me a little support: (from the left: Donna Tetreault of SuperMommyNot.com; Matt Steiner of Launch Education; Jenny Feldon of Karma (Continued...); me; and Christina Simon of Beyond the Brochure).
Some adorable boys asked to take their picture with "the real Livi": (that's her brother in the background looking a little neglected...)
And of course I had to take a picture of my book in the front of the store RIGHT NEXT to Jonathan Tropper's "This is Where I Leave You," and over "Fifty Shades of Grey." (Keep in mind this does not mean that my book is about sex or sitting shiva...)
And finally, the reading. (Watch the hysterical little girl who was turning pages for me. She was trying so hard to do it right). Thanks to everyone who showed up and thanks to Barnes & Noble for hosting me!!
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
BARNES & NOBLE @ THE GROVE THIS SATURDAY THE 18th
SO EXCITED! I'll be reading and signing my new picture book On My Way to the Bath, illustrated by the FABULOUS Michael Paraskevas, at Barnes & Noble at the Grove in Los Angeles, this SATURDAY the 18th at 11AM! (WOOT! WOOT!!!!)
The REAL LIVI will be there with me and she'll be happy to sign books for you too as well as give expert advice on how to avoid the tub.
Bring the kids!!!!
The REAL LIVI will be there with me and she'll be happy to sign books for you too as well as give expert advice on how to avoid the tub.
Bring the kids!!!!
Thursday, August 2, 2012
You Know You're a Mom Blogger When...
I’m couldn’t be at BlogHer ’12 this year because of my kids’ camp pick-up schedule, but it did inspire a post. It’s been 5 years since I launched MommyLITE and there are some ‘habits’ I’ve noticed I’ve picked up over the years. I’m not the only one...am I?
You know you’re a Mom Blogger when...
• Your kids have code names.
• You bring a camera to the hospital so you can document your son’s broken arm - after all, a trip to the emergency room is great blog fodder!
• The first thing you do in the morning isn’t make coffee – it’s check your Google Analytics.
• Your daughter tells you in confidence that she just got her period and the first thing you do is blog “OMG! I can’t believe my daughter just got her period!!”
• You have 500 friends on Facebook you’ve never actually met in person.
• Your friends start every sentence with “You’re not going to blog about this, are you?”
• You know code better than your teenage son.
• You use “I’m working on a blog post” to get out of late night sex - even though you're just on Facebook.
• You’re secretly a little jealous of other blogger’s personal tragedies because you know it boosts their numbers.
• You’re a private citizen, but you have a fan page.
• You believe $5.42 is “revenue.”
The Health Benefits of Pets - Even Guinea Pigs!
Just had to share a great article I read today on HuffPo confirming that pets help children on the Autism spectrum with social skills.
I could have told you this years ago, but I think it's fantastic it's finally been proven. Even more so because it doesn't specify that the pet has to be a dog. Not that I don't love dogs. I grew up with dogs. But our post-divorce living accommodations are small.
He have guinea pigs. And we love 'em. Stinky, smelly, fat and fluffy. Yes. A guinea pig is a thing of wonder. They're the perfect pet. They're so low on the food chain they have no natural defenses. That is if you don't all pooping on you a 'defensive strategy.'
Bob loves her piggies. And they love her back. In that "Are you feeding me now? That would be great if you were feeding me now!" kind of way.
And there are lots of pet options. Just before you plunk down any money anywhere for that purebred Romanian, Red-Crested, Dragon-Headed, Garden Lizard - remember there are SO many abandoned animals who need a good home. And almost EVERY species of animal has a "Rescue." Just Google the name of animal you want with the word "Rescue" after it. Trust me, you'll find one. Yes, probably even a Romanian, Red-Crested, Dragon-Headed, Garden Lizard.
I could have told you this years ago, but I think it's fantastic it's finally been proven. Even more so because it doesn't specify that the pet has to be a dog. Not that I don't love dogs. I grew up with dogs. But our post-divorce living accommodations are small.
He have guinea pigs. And we love 'em. Stinky, smelly, fat and fluffy. Yes. A guinea pig is a thing of wonder. They're the perfect pet. They're so low on the food chain they have no natural defenses. That is if you don't all pooping on you a 'defensive strategy.'
(2010) Milo comes home! So tiny!
Bob loves her piggies. And they love her back. In that "Are you feeding me now? That would be great if you were feeding me now!" kind of way.
And there are lots of pet options. Just before you plunk down any money anywhere for that purebred Romanian, Red-Crested, Dragon-Headed, Garden Lizard - remember there are SO many abandoned animals who need a good home. And almost EVERY species of animal has a "Rescue." Just Google the name of animal you want with the word "Rescue" after it. Trust me, you'll find one. Yes, probably even a Romanian, Red-Crested, Dragon-Headed, Garden Lizard.
(2009) Bob and Leo (may he rest in peace. He was a good pig. Can't talk about those last weeks...but if you want to READ about them...CLICK HERE)
(2009) Yes...she's wearing a sombrero. What's she gonna do about it?
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