Mommy Must Have

Here’s a cute thing that was one of the first products I featured on my “Mommy Must Have” segment on my TV show, The Fashion Team. Although come to think of it we haven’t done that segment in months, which means the producers must have cut it without telling me…hmm. Typical.

Anyway, I was trolling a star-studded benefit for the March of Dimes last year, eyeing the swag available to the famous and hoping to get ideas for my show. When low and behold I see a very nice, unassuming mom with her t-shirts and matching books. These are not just shirts with a familiar story or song on them, they’re Nursery Rhyme Tease, and each shirt comes with a little book that matches. So I got Vivien “Wheels On The Bus,” and “5 Little Monkeys Jumping On The Bed.” She loved them, got so excited when I gave them to her. She likes reading the books, knows the words and wears the shirt like a rocker wears his AC/DC shirt, to show what a fan she is!

As I recall they were about $25 dollars for the set. Order a few and have them in an emergency gift nook for when you realize, “oh, crap, we have a kiddie party today!”

That’s my plug.

Beautiful Mommy

Remember “The Three Little Bears”? Well, these days Goldilocks would be rejecting noses, not porridge. Check out this new children’s book, My Beautiful Mommy, which explains mom’s plastic surgery to kids.

It reminds me of a story my mom told me years ago. When older sister Carole was little, there was a family on our block, the “Smythes.” Well, Mrs. Smythe was always very made up and had chic little outfits and done-up blonde hair. And she drank cocktails with her husband and friends in their second-floor bar, which was so cool. But she was harsh to her kids and yelled and whacked them. My mom was pretty, but more in a 1970s way. Long straight hair, big sunglasses, tanned with little make up. So, one day after playing with the put upon Smythe kids, Carole said to our mom, “Mean mommies are pretty. You are a nice mommy.”

There’s a compliment in there somewhere.

I Hate This Book

When my daughter Vivien was about a year, she really loved The Chicken Sisters. I had to read it all the time. One day I hid it. It was gone for weeks and I was relieved, but her sitter found it and put it out again. But, like a relationship that has weathered a fight, I fell in love with The Chicken Sisters anew. This is my tale of a grown woman reading rudimentary literature.