Martinis and Minivans

A Mommy Blog

Playing a game with the girls from Science of Parenthood

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One of my favorite things about BlogHer this year was the really awesome folks I had a chance to meet. Two especially are near and dear to my heart – Norine Dworkin-McDaniel and Jessica Ziegler, the duo behind the illustrated humor blog Science of Parenthood.

science-of-parenthoodWe spent many hours talking and sharing what we have learned not just about blogging, but about parenthood, life and all the crap that makes liquid snort out of my nose when I laugh. I truly appreciated having them at the conference and feel like I met kindred spirits when we first talked.

Now, they are celebrating this blog’s 1 year anniversary! They are having an awesome giveaway too of some top blogger books and some pretty fun swag – so head over there and check that out.

However, I couldn’t just sing happy birthday off key to them to celebrate. I asked them if they wanted to play a little game with me. So I came up with 10 words and they had to take turns saying the first thing that came to their head about that word.

Here we go!

Dessert: Mmmm …. I love free-association word games like this. Reminds me of therapy. Okay, so you say dessert and I say … chocolate. I L-O-V-E chocolate. If there’s chocolate anything on the menu, that’s what I’m ordering. Unless there’s bread pudding. Then I’m having that. If I had chocolate bread pudding, I’d think I’d died and gone to heaven. Which I don’t really believe in, but I do believe in chocolate. Especially Godiva. — Norine

Parenthood: “Parenthood” sounds so serious. I don’t feel that what I am participating in warrants such a heavy title. Floopy-Flailings?  Wingin’it-hood? Those sound a little more like it.— Jessica

Alcohol: Martinis. Jessica’s husband, Greg, makes a superb martini. Unfortunately, I loved martinis a little too much … to the point where I was drinking three a night … and now I’m in 12-step recovery program. I’m doing well, thank you. Sober for two-and-a-half years. I don’t actually miss the booze. But every once in a while, I think, Yeah, it’d be nice to have one of Greg’s martinis.  — Norine

Spouse: Long-term. My husband and I will have been married for twenty years this coming September. I know. It’s ridiculous. I suppose I should have said something like “soul mate” or “partner”, instead I’ve used a word typicalyl paired with “investment” or “prison sentence”. Let’s not examine that one too closely, m’kay? — Jessica

Birth: Well … I gave birth. I have a son, who’s nearly 8. But while most moms have these great, dramatic And then my water broke in the cab … stories, I have the lamest birth story, ever. My OB wanted to induce me, so I went into the hospital at 8 pm; they shot me full of pitocin and … nada. I didn’t feel one contraction. In the morning they said, Well, this isn’t working, let’s do a C-section. Forty-five minutes later, I had my baby. Barely felt a thing. I feel kind of cheated, actually. — Norine

Minivan: Being sixteen. When I was sixteen and first had my driver’s licence one of our family cars was a big ‘ol minivan. As you can imagine, it was every Cure-listening, Daria-watching girl’s dream car. I haven’t driven one since. Not that there’s anything wrong with minivans, but I only have one kiddo. Seriously, if you have two or more kids and they have any friends at all, you need a third row! — Jessica

Boobs:  I’m gonna risk pissing off a lot of women, moms, and confess that I … like my boobs. I do. Please don’t slap me. I would swap thighs with Kate Moss any day. But my boobs, they’re okay. I’m typically a B-cup, but when I was pregnant, I ballooned up to a D. That was fun for a while. But now I know I’m quite content with what nature endowed. — Norine

Youth: Fleeting. I had big plans to be super cool about getting older; now that it’s actually starting to happen, I’m not loving it. There are many, many things I appreciate about getting older: knowing more, being more confident, yada yada … I know they only come with age and experience. But the stiff neck and wayward chin hairs? Those I could do without. — Jessica

Embarrassment: Here’s the lovely thing about getting older — I’ll be 48 next birthday — I no longer embarrass easily. Stuff that would have made me want to disappear into the floor a decade ago — like the time my mom chose the sushi bar where we were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with other diners to ask me, loudly, if I was “really into sex toys” — that stuff just rolls off me now. I’ve discovered that 99 percent of the time, people aren’t looking at you, they’re worrying about their own shit. Unless you’ve got toilet paper stuck to your shoe. Then people probably are looking at you. Hopefully some kind soul will tell you. — Norine

Mistake: I was all ready to say, “There are no mistakes. Life is a journey, my little snowflakes!” But then I remembered this one haircut I got in 8th grade. Oh my god, it was such a mistake. This was back when everyone wanted feathered hair. My hair was stick straight and thin. There was not enough Aquanet in the world to get this mop to feather. Sooo, I figured I’d just have them cut-in the layers. I didn’t learn the term “mullet” for another fifteen years, but that is exactly what I’d requested. – Jessica

Happy 1 Year Anniversary girls! I’m toasting my martini glass to you!

Check out Science of Parenthood at http://scienceofparenthood.com

If You Give A Mom A Cocktail…

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You know that book “If You Give A Mouse A Cookie?”

I was challenged by a friend to come up with my own version. Mine is called, “If You Give A Mom A Cocktail”

I’m not a children’s book author or anything, but I think I might be on to something here…

IF YOU GIVE A MOM A COCKTAIL

If you give a mom a cocktail, she’s going to want crackers to go with it.

If you give her crackers, she is going to want cheese on top of them.

If you give her cheese, she’s going to want chocolate to compliment it.

If you give her chocolate, she’s going to want to watch reality tv.

If you give her reality tv, she’s going to want a blanket.

If you give her a blanket, she’s going to want a pillow.

If you give her a pillow, she’s going to want a bedtime snack.

And if you give her a bedtime snack, chances are she’ll want a cocktail to drink with it.

Thanksgiving Crafts I’m Not Smart Enough To Make

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If you’ve been reading the blog for awhile, you know that I start to twitch and back away slowly at the sight of crafts. I can do some basic things like make a snail out of Play Doh (hey, that took me two hours to figure out), but beyond that, I’m craft-intolerant. So Pinterest to me is like a bad reminder of all the things I’m not smart enough to make.

With that in mind, I thought I would share a few Thanksgiving crafts I found that made me say, “How the heck would I actually make that?”

1. “Simple Thanksgiving Wreath” by Adorable You

In order to make this, I’d first have to get a subscription to a newspaper.

Second, I’d have to find time to actually read that newspaper and figure out what stories would make good wreath material.

Then, I’d have to buy an old fashioned bag of potatoes to get that burlap bow.

On top of that, where’s the strands of the bow? How did they magically disappear?

And last, I don’t think I could write the letters that neatly even if I was back in school with that gray lined paper we all used.

However, I feel very confident that I could glue all of the letters to the wreath. Except if I used a glue gun. Nothing good comes from a glue gun and my fingers.

2. “Light Bulb Turkey” – Crafts by Amanda

Uh, this one just looks painful to me. First, I’d have to capture two birds. One with red feather and one with orange. Considering that most birds have migrated to Florida for the winter, this is going to be really tricky.

Second, I’d have to figure out how to take out the energy efficient light bulbs out of the lamp. I always forget to let them cool before taking them out so I’m pretty sure I would burn my fingers.

Next, I would have to cut out two hearts for the feet. Ever since elementary school I’ve been inefficient at cutting out hearts. One side is always larger than the other and they end up looking like two mismatched boobs – which is a sensitive topic for me. (insert awkward grabbing of my boobs here)

And finally, I’d have to paint the lightbulb poop brown. Is that an actual color or do I just ask for brown at the paint store? Additionally, where would one get a miniature hat that fits a lightbulb turkey? Is there a store for that? I hear that crazy Tuesday Morning store has everything a human being could ask for and more…

3. “Lollipop Turkey” – Crafts n’ Coffee

Ok, now how long do you think a centerpiece like this would last on our dining room table? I’d go to sleep on the first night and find my 2 year old son under the table in the morning surrounded by lollipop sticks and stuck to the floor from all the juice that leaked from his mouth.

Second, I’d have to go to a scrap booking store to get all those different papers. I have a death fear of scrap booking stores. It’s not that I have anything against folks who scrapbook, not at all. I am simply scared of a store that is so damn organized. There is not a single piece of ripped paper and every pen has the top on. It just makes me feel like I can go nuts at any moment and start inappropriately folding and bending paper. I also have a fantasy of running around the store saying, “I’m running with scissors!!!”

Last, I can’t stop thinking that the turkey is wearing a tie. Perhaps he is dressing up for the holidays or perhaps it is supposed to be his waddle. Either way – I’m impressed with his ability to show personal flair and style right before his death.

 

So there you have it. Three crafts that I’m not smart enough to make. I think for Thanksgiving I’m going to just try to make a little black pilgrim hat for my Play Doh snail. I mean, I’m sure snails were aboard The Mayflower, right?

The Five Types of Moms at The Children’s Museum

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While at our local children’s museum this morning, I took notice of the other moms around me and quickly realized that we all fit into one of the five categories of moms. Which one are you?

1. The Cell Phone Mom: the one who never gets off her cell phone and looks confused when she looks up and can’t find her children. What she doesn’t realize is that they are already downstairs painting inappropriate images of their body parts on their face and arm.

2. The Loud Screaming Mom: the one who says “Johnny” in the loudest voice known to man. And you know that “Johnny” is in a butt load of trouble later that includes being called words that are only heard on The Jerry Springer Show.

3. The Backpack Mom: the one who is overly prepared. She’s got the wipes, sippy cups, snacks, hand sanitizer, more snacks, and probably even a change of clothes in that sack on her back. She also is now slightly humpback and probably will need a walker in about 10 years. Though, she’ll probably have orange slices in a nice clean ziploc bag hanging from her walker, in case of a snack emergency.

4. The Trashy Mom: She’s the one wearing the cut off jean shorts that show her underwear and a pink bra under her way too low white t-shirt. She’s the one who might actually be ON The Jerry Springer Show someday.

5. The Ponytail and Sweats Mom: This is me. The mom who doesn’t dress up to roll around on the ground with her children or iron things that will only get ruined when she squishes herself inside those tiny, little playhouses . She’s also the one who might not remember her last shower. And she’s definitely not wearing a pink lacy bra to a children’s museum. Damn, she barely wears one of those when she is trying to get pregnant. And once those babies are made and birthed, that bra goes to the back of the drawer where it belongs.

However, no matter what type of mom you are, if you are at a jam-packed children’s museum with your kids, we all have that same look. The look of – please, oh please, can one of those perky teenagers who work here bring me a cocktail in a sippy cup immediately…

We all need to hear these words sometimes…

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I went to the Children’s Museum this morning here in town and had an experience that I will probably never forget. My son and I were in the elevator (daughter is at camp – a wonderful invention – I would like to kiss deeply the person who thought of camp). Anyway, my son and I were getting into the elevator when a woman came in looking a bit frazzled. She had a big double stroller with a boy in the front seat around 7 years old, and then 3 other children around her, slightly older.

Looking very frustrated, I couldn’t help but hear her arguing with one of the children about something that happened that embarrassed them. I didn’t hear the story details so I’m not sure what they were referring to. However, at the moment the elevator stopped, the boy in the stroller started banging his head against the front of the stroller, then against the elevator hand rail. He was yelling that he wanted to go to the play area. Yelling loudly and banging over and over again. She struggled with getting him to stop and I helped her push the stroller out of the elevator so we all could exit.

I looked at the mother, then at him, then back at the mother. She had tears in her eyes. I realized when I looked at the son that he had down syndrome. I smiled at the mother and said, “There’s just rough days being a mother, isn’t there?”

Her reply is the reason I will never forget this story.

She replied with a shaking voice and tears coming down her face, “Every day is like this for me.”

I then decided to do what goes against every fabric of my New Yorker’s body. I walked right up to this woman I have never met before and I hugged her. And she cried in my arms. Then I said that words that I think every mother needs to hear, even me.

“You are a good mother.”

I repeated this about 10 times to her. I told her that we are all doing the best we can do in life. Then, I told her that she was definitely a better mother than I was because I hardly ever brought just 2 kids to the museum, let alone 4. She laughed and I told her that I hoped she had a good day. Though, I knew the chance of that was hard for her to imagine.

My heart has been hurting for that mother ever since I walked away from her.

My hats are off to all of you with children with extra needs. I hope you all know that you are good mothers. And it’s ok to cry. Even at the children’s museum.