Okay, no surprise, new businesses take a lot of work. So I saw this in my coolmom archive and it’s very relevant, expect I can see from my hollow cheeks I weighed less when I shot it then I do know. Oh well. That’s another blog.
The wail of the child… I now require it be followed by the request or I’m not moving.
I think part of being a good parent is embracing your dorkiness. I was just at the park with Vivien for her sports class, and I had on a navy hoodie, brown velvet sweat pants, and worn sneakers. No makeup, no shower (hey, bath the night before). One dad strode into the park with newsboy cap, leather blazer and posture that said, “These kids haven’t beaten me down!” I thought I wish I had an outfit on. I wish I had clothes that match. But, then again, why? I’m chasing after Rex crawling through the grass and sand. I’m lugging a bag over my shoulders full of snacks, water and diapers. A bag that would ruin the line of any stylish outfit. So, why bother? Why not just be covered and utilitarian and embrace it.
Yeah, I don’t dress up, I’m in momcognito.
Yeah, my roots are deep, and my nails are jagged because I’m too tired or too busy to leave my kids to attend to that.
And yeah, when I go to work ,my motherhood can betray my attempt at professionalism.
Have you ever had a moment like this at work?
I was just speaking to my dad. He said his weekend was about air conditioning (it’s been hot and smokey in LA) and the funeral ( Ted Kennedy’s). I said, “Me too!” We hung on the phone with each other for about 30 minutes during the wake Friday night. We have divergent political views, but my dad and I love history and politics and it’s hard not to feel connected to the Kennedys. We were critiquing some of the speeches and who moved us the most. Orin Hatch,charming, Biden, throws his heart on the table, Sen. Culver, very funny (sidebar: during the funeral Saturday morning Ted Jr. won the weepy award. Touching!)
Some of the commentators have been saying that some of the Kennedy’s associates might ask themselves now, “What would Teddy do?”
When I was watching it all, I just wished I had been invited to sail with him. Looks so cool. (Growing up a middle class kid in Culver City we didn’t have a family sport. Wait, I take that back. Figuring out where to go to eat for dinner and having a fight over the one good seat in the family room while “Love Boat” was one, that was sport.) But knowing me, I probably would have yakked.
In my own life as a mother I sometimes say, “What would mommy do?” Thankfully I can ask her. So, this week a special two parter of Morency, my mom.
Spent some extra time in the editing room for this one.
Ironic having aging and presidency in the title after the death of the last patriarch of the Kennedys. But am i the only one that has noticed this phenom? Other than smoking and having Irish skin, I don’t know of anything that can age you more quickly than being president or being a mom. Another reason to have a woman president, what if one person were both!
Though I think it’s the early years… and months… that really do it to a gal. And waging wars we should have never entered into, that can really deepen the lines in the crows feet… and the soul.
It’s the return of MY MOMMY! If you were coming to this blog a year ago you might have seen my dear mom Morency making a few appearances. To catch up those who haven’t seen her before, she is a Minnesota-born, wise, steady woman who raised three daughters, has 4 grandchildren, and has taught and mentored students in the over 30 years she has run her private school.
I taped four little vlogs with mom the other day. Please note my sterling production value… mic hanging openly, too-large photo distracting between the two of us (which is of my engagement party by the way).
I’ll play the other three soon.
Well, now that Ringo Starr has announced he will no longer accept autograph requests, I think it’s the perfect time to say I have been dying to make this announcement, as well. Since I am a basic cable superstar, I have been inundated with requests for my time, advice, and even 8×10’s. It has gotten to the point where I receive these requests almost twice a year and I am crushed by the demand. Please, people, I am a mother, and an expectant one at that! Since my Dr. Phil appearance, granted, I only received one email, but it was when Vivien needed her nap and I thought I might be having a Braxton Hicks, and I was trying to zone out with a People Magazine as I headed toward the can. So please, give a girl a break.
Imagine how poor besieged Ringo must feel? Let alone Paul McCartney. I feel sorry for him, really.
My only question is, “What the hell is Ringo so busy with?”
Here’s a great piece I found in Tuesday’s New York Times about how damaging it can be to the elderly to be spoken down to by health care professionals. Now, I think health workers have a rough, tough job. But this is a pet peeve of mine from my own dad’s hospitalization.
My Parents on My Wedding Day
It’s bad enough that the hospital workers, nurses, doctors, etc., yell at him when they speak. My dad has some problems, but his hearing is perfect, and I see my father recoiling. The demeaning language has consequences, and I’m glad to see it written about with some credibility.
I have my own anecdotes regarding poor behavior. A few years ago, my dad was in the hospital because he had gotten dizzy and a friend took him to the ER. Mistake number one. It is better to stay out of the hospital.
The staff at this particular hospital were not even on duty when I found my dad strapped to the hospital bed after a night or two of being there, his eyes wide-open and fearful. I said, “What the hell is going on?” The nurse said, “We had to strap your dad down. He is a bad boy.” I complained to the head nurse, who said, “Well, we had to – he was a bad boy.” The nurses used the term “bad boy” so many times I wanted to bitch-slap them.
Long story short, he wanted to leave, would get up, and they’d yell “bad boy” at him, which made him only more determined to leave. I complained to the doctor. I said they had given him medicine that was harming him, as was the treatment. The doctor didn’t think so. They gave medicine to him to “control” him. “He’s only calm if your family members are here.” So I said, “Then we aren’t leaving him.” My sister and I were present, took off the straps and called my mom and our other sister. I said that we had to stand watch and guard him while whatever they gave him passed.
And so we did (my dear mom taking the overnight shift). Within 24 hours, he was 100 percent back to his normal self. He didn’t need to be drugged or to be there at all – no one wants to be treated like a misbehaving child. This is especially true when that person is an older adult, frightened about where they are.
After that experience, we learned that if he goes into the hospital one of us has to go with him. Maybe we do not have to be there 24/7, but checking in as frequently as possible.
I’m going to be checking my own “sweetie” remarks today.
Okay, now I have to come up with a prize! But I will do it, if you all can help me out with my dreaded household task.
Okay, let’s sort out this whole kiddie party thing, shall we? Does anyone remember having big gift bags when they were kids? I think it’s a spillover from celebrity gifting suites for award shows. If kids gift bags get any bigger we are going to have to pay taxes on them.
Have you ever gotten invited to a big kiddie party, where you don’t know any adults accept the host? Torture. I’ve had to pass on a fair bit of kiddie of parties because they are smack in the middle of naptime, and it’s just not worth it. I went to one that was great and it was great, partly because it wasn’t too big. I actually could sit. There is nothing worse than having nowhere to sit.
What are the highs and lows?