You can’t always be Florence Nightingale. Sometimes you can’t make your kid feel better. Sometimes they get upset and you go to your inner swim up bar in your mind and check out. Even if it’s for 20 seconds. One mommy friend said to me, “They will take everything they can get out of you.” And she’s right. You do need limits sometimes. This video shows why sometimes I power the mom brain down.
So I noticed Dooce’s response to people who are unhappy with her vegi cleanse. I get cutting out meat. I did that for a while…three months, then one taste of bacon and it was all over. And I get cutting out red meat since they say cow farts contribute to global warming. And if I’m going to do something I think I would rather cut out a steak rather than my air conditioning*.
Since I live in California I’m no stranger to wacky and different diets and food beliefs. I got talked into a cleanse a few years back. And it wasn’t just veggies, it was NOTHING. Ten days of nothing, but some crappy tasty Chinese herbs and water. Now, I didn’t seem to get the memo that if you deprive your body of that much sustenance you need to lay down on your coach all day and only move to scratch an itch. No, I wisely decided to pick that week to move out of my apartment in San Francisco.
After a few days of eating air, one gets a bit high. I still don’t know how I stuck to it at all. On day four my friend Whitney and I loaded up a van full of my belongings to drive to my new apartment in Santa Monica. He had to do all the work though because I was feeling a little weak and kept giggling uncontrollably. How I didn’t snack on the boring stretch of Highway 5, I don’t know. Oh, yes I do. I wanted to be skinny. Blah, blah toxins, I wanted a flat stomach and this cleanse was going to kick start my path to svelteness.
The next morning back at my place I got really sick. Vomiting herbs and water, really out of it. All I could do was sleep. I couldn’t even get to the couch. Whitney rolled his eyes at me and said something like, “This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”
I started back with clear broth. Then crackers. Food begot more food. I felt better. I think I’ll just wear Spanx.
*Oh god! I just saw pig farts hurt the environment too. Damn, my bacon is threatened again!
I’m trying to make it a new rule that there is at least one day that is just about Vivien – not me distracting her so I can do something else, or dragging her on my errands. I call it “[blank] Fun Day.” As in, whatever day it is. Friday fun day sounds the best, but I work this Friday, so that’s not going to work.
In NYC, we had Saturday Fun Day and took the subway (or underground train, as we called it for Viv) to the Children’s Museum on the Upper West Side. At the CMOM, as they call it, they presently have a hands-on Diego and Dora exhibit.
You run around a world that looks vaguely Dora- and Diego-like. She loved it! I feel like if I immerse myself in something like this for her for a couple of hours, then I don’t feel guilty when I say, “Okay, time for us to go to the cafe across the street so Mommy can have an espresso and croissant.” If they were smart, all kid play areas and attractions would have good food and coffee for the parents. That’s what I need in order to be fun.
This video post was inspired by the blog Pioneer Woman and my daughter’s love of stickers. When I was childless I swore I wouldn’t be one of those moms whose back right window is littered with stickers. Right now there are two.
I’m in a public bathroom with Vivien. It’s sort of nasty and I keep hissing at her, “Don’t touch anything!” Like, she’s a finger away from the plague instead of the same gross old germs we always come into contact with. But somehow it seems worse in a public bathroom and one that does not appear to be well maintained. Also I feel so vulnerable, hovering over the can while I also try to corral my child who could touch any object if given the chance. And then this happens.
There is no catch to the cheap one ply roll. I keep trying to find the end and my quads get a workout. Finally I claw at it like a nervous kitty. “Get me out of here!” I get a snippet of tissue, wash our hands and then command Vivien like the commender of sub. “Dive, dive, get out of here!”
It’s a strange dichotomy that the thing you want the most, a child, can also be so frustrating or depressing at times. It’s not even the kid themselves it can be what goes into it. If you don’t make an income anymore in order to be a full time mom it work on your self esteem. Or you don’t fit in your skinny jeans. Or your husband doesn’t support you emotionally the way you need.
Anyway, the mommy meltdown is a known phenom. Take a minute, breathe, let them scream and watch this.
So funny, I realized today I was doing this and wondered if I am the only mom who does this? Then I see a comment from Saloni where she said when her kid makes baby noises she wants to run in the opposite direction. Now, she didn’t say she did, but I am here to say I have. I wouldn’t leave her stranded. I just saw an opportunity. Vivien was in the back yard with my husband when I realized, “Hey, I’m tired and would love to quickly watch some adult TV. Or read a few pages of Barbara Walters memoir.” So I dashed into my room and had about 6 minutes of chill before I heard, “Mommy!” When she came in she said she wanted to watch cartoons. I didn’t cave, “No honey, I want to watch some mommy TV and rest.” Thankfully she said. “Can I rest with you?” And she did for a little while. I just needed to recharge. Does anyone else hideout
Every mom has that pile of books and magazines that you can never seem to get around to actually reading. I just cracked two pages of the New York Times Magazine cover story from 6 weeks ago. I’m hoping if I leave it in my bathroom, I might finally finish it. I always read Star Magazine, but mostly because I am in it every week as a regular contributer to “Worst of the Week.
What reads do you leave lying around hoping you will get to? And what do you really read?
Remember when going to the movies was fun? Yeah, I barely do as well. When Vivien was a newborn I could take her, but now it’s totally not possible. And then there are the competing interests, what a 14 year old wants to see is different than what I or my elderly dad might want to see. But, one day I decided to try and please everyone and we all headed to the movies. Since my dad has difficulty walking and is eating himself toward a stroke, going to a movie is one of the few activities that make sense for him. I may never be the same.
I always like to see an off-off-Broadway show when I am in NYC. The dark, little out of the way black box theaters remind me of the years I spent performing in such houses. They may not be glamorous, but you can find some good shows and, of course, some awful ones.
The other week I took Mark to see Baby Love, a one-woman show by Christen Clifford. It was right up my alley. A free spirited, sexually open woman becomes a mother. In the process she falls in love with her child and can barely remember what an orgasm is. The lady spoke truths! And she did it in 60 minutes which is as long as I like to sit.
I even got a sex toy from Christen. I don’t think she saw a fellow traveler. She just asked who was a new mom and no one else raised their hand, so I thought, well, “newish”. A locaI store, babeland, had donated the goods. What’s also cool about the show is she performs while she is presently with child again.
If you get to New York, see this show. It’s rare to see someone talk about that deep sensual satisfaction that loving a child can bring you. Because it makes you sound like a nut, but we know it’s true.
(For the non moms it’s not a Michael Jackson thing, it’s a feeling thing)