Moving Forward: Clinton and Obama

Okay, I’ve got to get into this. All this bad blood amongst Hillary supporters. I was a big HRC fan and gave her the max, traveling to Texas to help her campaign. The more I saw of her, the better I think she got. (Except for that sniper-fire thing, which I still can’t figure out.)

Hillary Clinton primaries

I was positively cross-eyed over the meanness of many liberal media types: Keith Olbermann, various pundits on CNN, most of Air America, Randi Rhodes (who broadcasts like she is in a bar fight), Stephanie Miller (whom I’ve worked with and liked, but had to stop listening to). I felt like, “Hey guys, I’m with you on most issues, so why are you trashing my girl and half of the Democratic party?”

Likewise, I felt totally abandoned by , which decided to support Obama in the primary, and worst of all NARAL. I wrote letters to both asking them to take me off of any future contacts. NARAL totally disrespected Clinton by not waiting two freaking weeks to the end of the primary so they could endorse Obama. Why? Did they think he wouldn’t want their support in two weeks? As I said back then, for the general election, he would court women more than he had when he was single. And all the sexism in the media had me enraged, not only as a feminist but also as the mother of daughter.

I bring this all up because I understand the anger from the hardcore Hillary email group I am part of… I get it, but to a point. I agree the DNC is lame. That the caucus system disenfranchises poor, frail, older voters (saw that up close in Texas) and the frustration of the proportional delegates (if they had winner-takes-all, Hillary would have won). But that’s the game and Obama’s camp played it better.

I am all for reforming the rules. But I am not for voting for McCain or Nader. I understand people don’t want to be taken for granted, but it hints at a naivete I associated with some of the Obama supporters, i.e., the belief that he wasn’t a typical politician, etc. Well, he’s not typical – he’s a very good politician, which is why he is where he is. But he is playing the system, not changing it.

Look, Hillary is no saint, she’s a tough-ass politician, and so is he. He’s gotten tougher in this race, which is good. I don’t care squat about the lobbyist money nonsense because 1) they are not a monolithic group and 2) the system by necessity calls for pols to compromise. Try getting a majority of 300 million people to vote for you and see how far you’d get. They have to please everyone.

So look, disgruntled HRC fans, I get the rancor. But seriously, let’s move forward. She is. And I love not feeling guilty because I’m not cold-calling other states for votes. Relieved that is over. And let’s not forget the lady needs to get her debt down. I love that Obama wrote her a check for $4,600.

I was doing a bit in my stand up last fall and winter that the Dems could put up a bacteria that has no name and I would vote for it, because after what the Republicans have given us in the last seven years, they deserve to be punished. And the Supreme Court is too important to hold a grudge.

So can I vote for Obama? Dare I say it… Yes, I can.

Toys Gone Bad

You know how you cease to see your own junk, but if you go to someone else’s house, you can instantly see where some discarding and organization is in order?  Well, I just took notice of TOYS that need to go. First off, this sandbox came with our house and I couldn’t understand why the previous owners left such a darling sandbox.


Then I realized that it was waterlogged, and mushrooms and weeds were growing out of it. Uncovered sand gets funky. Also, there were about 4 dozen old balls that were left by the former kids.  Vivien was excited to find them at first.

deflated play balls

But seriously, do any of these look playable? No. So did I chuck them when we moved in? No. For some reason, I left them around. I don’t know why, unless I thought my kid is so clever, she will find a use even for deflated balls. Yeah, like I ever found a use for those striped palazzo pants I got on sale.

I chucked the broken plastic today. The sandbox’s days are numbered.

C-Section Lingerie

Where were these when I needed them? Cool, hip, pretty panties for that wretched, post-C-section time of your life. (Props to commenter Jennifer from the Older Moms vlog, who’s behind this smart design.)

Czela bellies  C-section panties

After my C-section, I didn’t know what to expect. Some rebound more easily from this event. Not me. I was in pain, uncomfortable, hobbled around – I’m not a quick healer. In the hospital they gave me white mesh panties to wear. They were large, but comfortable. I had two pairs and I washed them over and over again. They became like my Linus blanket. They wouldn’t hurt my stitches and made me feel protected.  I also had a big pregnant butt, so cute little panties wouldn’t have fit anyway.

If you are going under the knife for birth, I would suggest checking out these cute panties. Now if they could just do something about that awful IV…

What Kills a Strip Tease For Me

One of the reasons I married in my mid-thirties was that I spent my earlier years having a really good time. I had many boyfriends, lovers, whatever you call them. Even when I was a chubby gal, I had plenty of action because I was fun. Nothing like becoming a mom to make you the airbrakes of good time.

The Opposite of Momnesia

Hey, I know something that Hillary can take on for me at 3am, my over anxious brain. Despite whatever else I need to get to, the primal “what do the kids need now?” part is buzzing. Men will do the right thing if given a minute or kindly reminded (“Of course she said she’s not hungry she’s 18 months. It’s the same for me, I may say I don’t need a chemical peel, but look at me!”), but it’s not the forepart of their brain. This must be why they can still sleep like the proverbial baby.

A very real part of the mom brain is that rest is harder to come by. After a baby, one is physically more tired, but less able to rest. Hence the addition of bags around the eyes. So, while there is such a condition of Momnesia, I say its the opposite of momnesia that has me up with the weight of the world is on my shoulders. What my sister Carole calls “life in review.” Because why not worry about everything in the world when you are least able to effect change?

Perpetual Fashion Critique

Look, here’s the first event we have gotten dolled up for together in a long, long time. The Poop (what a great name) had a pithy little posting about taking fashion critique shows and turning them on moms and dads. Since I do host a show where we rip on celeb fashion, I so relate. Yes, I too am often in my mommy track suit, but when it’s time to dress up, sharpen the fangs.

Daphne and Mark in NYC

I recently realized what an occupational hazard I have with this. I can’t turn off the Fashion Team brain. I am also in Star Magazine every week doing the jokes for Worst of the Week, so it’s like I can’t turn ever turn it off. Yes, I can be snarky, but I love when someone looks great.

My husband Mark Peel’s restaurant, Campanile, was recently nominated for Best Restaurant in the country for the James Beard Awards (the Oscars of dining). He lost to Gramercy Tavern, though he did win it in 2001.

Mark was fine with losing this year, and I was fine because it brought us to New York and allowed me to get dressed up with my husband. He spends five nights a week in chef’s white while I toil in my track suit, so good times. At these food events, Mark has plenty of old friends and such that he wants to talk with.  I want the free wine and food that goes with it. So I have learned to bring my best gay friend Michael with me. He is the perfect date. Mark likes him too, since then I am not saying, “Can we leave?”

Michael is fab and works in fashion so needless to say, we had a constant fashion critique going. Food people are not the toniest types, so there were some errors. Flips-flops at black tie event at the Lincoln Center, really? Two women thought that was okay. Then there are the re-used prom dresses. And, I’m sorry, but the bubble skirts need to stop.

But this year, people looked a lot better than when I went to the Beard awards in 2004, when I swear I saw nail art. There are also those who don’t have the figure of a model or the budget of one, but clearly made an effort, so good for them. By the way, Kim Cattrall co-hosted the event with Bobby Flay, and she looks great and committed like a pro to all the banal banter she was forced to say.

Now, there were about three women who we really thought looked great. And we made a point of rushing over to them and telling them, which always makes someone feel good. The last lady we championed ended up being the wife of the chef of Quince, a restaurant in San Francisco that I have heard nothing but good things about and wanna go to when I have my 36 hours of child free time in SF in August.

At midnight as the security guards were yelling, “Go home, this event is over,” to us and the other stragglers (I mentioned there was free food and drinks, right?), a sweet young man came up to me and said, “I noticed your dress earlier and I wanted to tell you how much I love it.” That made my night. He was a cooking student who was volunteering, and when I told him about Mark, he got so excited. He had written a paper about him, so I introduced them. And it proved we aren’t the only ones sizing up everybody’s fashion.

My Friends Hate Me

I love the “it takes a village” idea. It’s the way to go. But, sadly my village is just too spread out for me. No wonder there are moms who get depressed or start drinking – it can be isolating. In fact when I was pregnant, my number one fear of being a mom was that I would be home at night with a tiny person who I couldn’t banter with and only the glow of a TV set to keep me warm. In a nutshell, that I would be an isolated woman. Little did I know one day I would start to embrace this.

Eyelash Curler: A Cautionary Tale

From my world o’cold I’m swimming in, I must depart this word of warning for the multitasking mom. My sister Cecily was curling her lashes Thursday, getting ready to meet us out for a girl’s dinner. She decided to multitask, also known as sitting on the can while curling said lashes, but she stumbled. The result? Half her eyelashes are now gone from her left eye. A clear chunk o’ lash is missing. When will it return? Who knows?

(Here’s Cecily with Vivien, eyelashes intact.)

She said it doesn’t hurt, but sometimes it’s better to take the 3 seconds to complete things. When something like that happens to me, I always think I dodged a bullet. That it could have been worse; I could have been distracted and in a hurry and plowed my car into a tree. So, don’t stop making yourself pretty, just do one thing at a time. That’s my takeaway.