Okay, start up the Vidder Awards, cause this vid should get one. I know, not nice to brag. But I think this is a good one. Trying to change it up a little.
Also, my pasty white, slab of a belly is in its full flower here!
Programming note: the teddy bear is a stand in for Rex.
After you watch it, tell me if you can’t relate. I mean, come on people!
I’m NOT a vagina (just part of me is), but if I were one and I was going ot have to shoot out a 19th child, I might write something like this.
I had a rare mom’s night out last night so I wasn’t able to write my own post, but I thought this was kind of funny.
Tonight’s the night! Â Where Rex’s dad is a judge on Top Chef (Wednesday, September 2nd). His appearance on Top Chef (not the Masters, different show) came at a provident time for us. April 30th we were loading out the last our possessions from the dream home where we had to sell. And May 1st we were being flown to Las Vegas so Mark could do the show. We were put up in a suite on the outskirts of town, but it was sweet to be sure. I left the kids for 22 hours and had such a great time. Here is where we stayed. It was actually prettier in person and wasn’t chock a block with white trash in the pool the way Vegas can be. We drank, had naked time, got massages in the beautiful spa, and saw a show. What parents away will do. The next morning MP filmed his first bit with Padma. I was a good wifeager and asked them to promote his book, which they kindly did. Then I had to get home to see my babies.
I honestly think that trip really helped me from getting the blues.
MP shot there a couple more days and had a great time. So, it will be fun to watch it.
Wow, seems like so long ago.
Oh, my kingdom for back lighting. And a key light… and oh, if only I had some Oprah lightening for Cool Mom.
I digress. My mother Morency is back. t’s funny the differences from what we remember about our childhood and what really happened and how that affects how we are as mothers.
If you remember it wrong do you then parent badly?
Sometimes it cracks me up when I hear friends-or myself- say “well, when I was a kid…” As if we all turned out so freaking fabulous we should emulate our upbringing. Isn’t that what our therapy was for, to undo some of how we were raised?
Still I do keenly remember how my mom handled it when I got out of hand, and I thought it taught me something.
But is my memory faulty?
The most important friendships for moms are the fleeting ones. As we get older and more involved in work and family, the deep, great friendships are still on the books, but they have very little relevance to our daily life. Particularly with my first born, any little chat with a neighbor or person in a store brightened my day. Like a new kid in the neighborhood, I used to take her on walks hoping some mom and baby would be on their front porch and ready to be my friend (after more than of year of that walk, I did get a couple of neighbor friends).
I was reminded of this yesterday.
After a weekend of air conditioning and TV, I decided the kids and I needed to escape. But we had to act like refugees in a war. Well, at least refugees from a heat wave and stinky skies due to a horrible fire in Angeles National Forest and surrounding areas. I start the car to cool it off and then put the kids in (still don’t know how moms who live in places like Phoenix do it).
We drove 20 minutes southwest to a shady park. It was ten degrees cooler than our area. When we got there, I saw one family having a picnic, but otherwise the place was deserted. I was already dreading how I would have to hold Rex, shading his face from the sun as Vivien wanted me to “play” with her. I of course wanted to sit my body down on the bench with my back under the shade of Chinese elm and occasionally say, “That’s great!” and “I’m watching you.”
After a few minutes a mom walked into the park with her 4 year old and 20 month old. They looked like the right food group. Yeah.
First needed friendship: For Vivien. She had a good buddy from the get go. They were playing well together, and now I could sit and do the main job of a mom at a park for a kid who has equilibrium.
Predator watch. Other than that I’m not really needed.
Second friendship needed: for me. Quickly the mom and I started chatting. The friend mating ritual is the always the same for moms. We observe how they speak to their kids: are they kind, but setting limits? Do they have roughly the same values and attitude? If they had a spazzy kid who is pushing little kids around and they don’t intervene, this friendship is going NO,where.
We learned the age and names or our kids, where they went to pre-school, how much it cost.. “more than going to UCLA”. She learned where I grew up. I learned she had a stepdaughter and so on.
Then another mom and girl appeared who seemed cool. And she had better sand toys than we did so this was a real coup. That mom and I discussed the horrible Dugard case.
“Pure evil, so scary.”
First mom had to go since her little one needed a nap. We all said good-bye. Second mom and I decided to pull the girls at the same time so our exit would have less screams.
It wasn’t until I was strapping my kids back in the car that I realized I DIDN’T KNOW THE MOMS’ NAMES. And they didn’t know mine.
Is it some odd mom bonding that our own selves are secondary? That it’s our kids, including our fears for them, that bond us more than knowing our names, where we work, hobbies? That’s a whole other layer of friendship and not for this very important 45 to 90 minute park friendship.
Or are these mom friends who you only see once more like super heroes?
“Who was that masked mom?”