AKA The Story of One of My Most Awkward Moments EVER! …
Here in South Florida many of us have pool boys. I’m not sure what the PC term is: “pool men,” “pool attendants,” “stewardesses?” Frankly, I think “pool boy” is a compliment, as the term implies — hot, strapping, and young, like the ones in movies (I imagine that’s what they’re like out in LA). For the most part our “pool boys” are not the rippling tan cliche that’ll turn you into a Mrs. Robinson, no, Continue reading
My sweet amazing baby boy is now a tween. You know, that stage where moms are not quite as smart or cool … or necessary as they once were? Sure, they want you to get them a glass of water when they’re in bed. Sometimes they’ll throw you a bone and ask you to lay with them when they’re freaked out by some scary character they saw in a trailer on YouTube. Yep, they have to settle for horror movie trailers because that same annoying overprotective mother (you) said they weren’t old enough to watch Final Destination or SAW. (Smart choice)
Actually, tween really is the perfect term, as they’re truly somewhere between “Mommy will you come in my room?” and “Mom my room is off limits to you.” They’re between, “Mom I think Katie likes me because she always says ‘Hi,’ so what do I do now?” and Mom overhearing him tell some friends he wants to date Chastity because she puts out. (This is why you should never name your child Chastity … because irony is a bitch.)
I remember when the shift into tweenishness occurred. Continue reading
At a party last weekend, I got stuck with one of “those moms” You know, the annoying moms you dread seeing at school functions, birthday parties, playdates, or park outings? So, I decided to make a list of the most common types of annoying moms I’ve come across. This way you can avoid them before they trap you!
1. PMS Pam: Talking with this “depress-fest” is more sobering than watching an aged Gary Busey perform live. Her weighty chit chat will include talk of diseases that could strike at any time, children who were poisoned by school lunches, and Botox gone horribly, irreversibly wrong. After a few short minutes, you’ll be sucked into an abyss of worry and despair that will have you questioning your safety, your health, and your marriage.
Rule of Thumb: Never talk to her alone, as it will take another friend to pull you from the pit (hope that friend comes bearing cocktails)!
2. Know it all Nicole: This mom is like Kris Jenner, but she won’t take your family to Hawaii. She will, however, advise you how to be a better mom and wife, because frankly, who doesn’t like unsolicited advice on parenting and marriage? She’ll tell you whether you should or shouldn’t vaccinate, how to get whites their whitest, and why you can never go to a drive-thru.
Rule of Thumb: If you want her to impart her wisdom elsewhere, bring up a blush-worthy topic like blow jobs. If she doesn’t run for the hills, hear her out — you can never know too much about blow jobs — then bring up vibrators.
3. Donna Droner: Talking to Donna will make you wish you had a cyanide pellet. This chatty chick finds every detail of her stories not only imperative, but scintillating — whether she’s describing how she rescheduled her children’s annual checkups, or rattling off her 39-step trick to get discoloration out of grout. Throughout your pow-wow you’ll feign interest and nod politely, while wondering if plastic party knives are strong enough to perform Hari Kari.
Rule of Thumb: Take a fake call. If you’re not holding your phone, pick up anything, hold it to your ear and answer it.
4. Braggy Beth: This gal will make you question whether your child is stupid, lazy, or socially inept. No matter what your kid’s accomplishments are, Beth’s kids did it better, and did it earlier. “Your daughter doesn’t know her alphabet yet? Have you had that looked into? I mean, I’m sure she’s fine. It’s just that my Lily is just really advanced. She probably learned it in the womb — I mean, we taught her French in the womb. Does yours speak French yet? Sorry, that was insensitive… she barely speaks English.” Listening to her talk will bring out a shameful side of you that wants to give her perfect little angel the finger.
Rule of Thumb: Don’t give her kid the finger… kick her in the shin and run.
5. TMI Tammy: Tammy is like a bad Facebook status in the flesh. She feels that the disgusting details of the ooze in her son’s ear and the consistency of her daughter’s last bowel movement is lunchtime fare. Though you may only know her from “Meet the Teacher Night,” you somehow also know that she has an inverted uterus and hence prefers it doggy style.
Rule of Thumb: TMI Tammy can work in details that would make Eminem blush, so stick to “Hi” and “Bye” and NEVER ask how she’s doing.
6. Judgy Julie: This delightful mom is assessing your every move. On play dates, she’s estimating how many toys you have in your dining room, the sugar content in your pantry, and when you last dusted your blinds. Her goal is simple: find enough evidence to confirm what she suspected all along: She is better than you.
Rule of Thumb: Be careful how much you let Judgy Julie see because she doesn’t keep her verdicts to herself. Yep, the high fructose corn syrup snacks you offered up as team mom could be the talk of the next PTA meeting.
Addendum: 10/1 (I said there would be more and here they are…)
7. Fend For Yourself Fran: This mom sees your child as her respite. Your kid is distracting hers, so that she can get a moment of peace, a glass of wine, a few minutes to read “Mommy Porn.” She’s not concerned with what the kids are doing, as long as they’re doing it quietly… and far away. You may come to her house to find your child, miserable, hungry, bruised, or locked in a bathroom, which she will have no explanation for, as she was unaware your child needed supervision… or a glass of water, or a Bandaid, or some protective gear.
Rule of Thumb: Always have her kid at your house or send yours over to hers with a survival kit.
8. Delusional Denise: DeeDee has no clue what her child is REALLY like. She’s blissfully unaware that her darling offspring, whom you’ve seen suffocate a baby bunny, could do any wrong. If confronted, Denise will emphatically deny that it was her little angel, she’ll explain how it was surely an accident, or she’ll complain that her child always seems to be the scapegoat.
Rule of Thumb: Keep yourself your kids and your pets as far away as possible — Denise’s kids are the ones who grow up to be serial killers.
9. Stalky Samantha: Samantha wants your life. She will sidle her way into plans with you. She’ll make sure her kids get close to your kids, sign them up for the same activities, clubs, teams, and classes. She’ll call other people to determine where you are at any given time. Her covert detective skills include frequent drive-bys, constant contact through scouring pictures and updates on social media, and oddly “running into you” like, everywhere.
Rule of Thumb: Be careful with this one, as we all know how stalker movies turn out… plus you’re probably convinced she has weird super powers like super hearing or ESP. (Well, that’s just silly because she’s actually a vampire.)
10. Me Me Mimi: “Enough about you, more about Mimi,” is her slogan. “What? Your child is allergic to peanuts and went into anaphylactic shock at school? I totally know what that’s like. That happens to my little Carly with chocolate. I mean, she’s not allergic, but it does a number on her tummy. Last Halloween she had such a bellyache… as you can imagine, it was awful.”
Rule of Thumb: Avoid this time suck at all costs, as even a nod in her direction opens a door for her to tell you more about herself and her family… AND DON’T GET HER STARTED ON HER DELIVERY STORY!
Some days I may or may not fall into one of these categories, though I like to believe those days are few and far between. Which mom makes you want to send smoke signals? And who did I miss (feel free to make up your own)?
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Here’s the thing, I’m not saying you’re neurotic, but we’ve all had those moments that totally defy all logic and reasoning. It’s just that some of us have more than others. I have these moments almost daily, hourly. I know… you’re jealous.
You too can have them, just develop a hearty case of OCD or throw all rational reasoning out the window and start to believe your thoughts can control the world (they’re the same thing).
My please-don’t-have-me-committed moment du jour was focused on a prescription of antibiotics for my daughter’s double ear infection. Please note, the child’s never had an ear infection and for her first, she’s decided to have two. Let me tell you, that kid NEVER does anything half-assed, which is something I usually marvel at.
Anyhoo, after 4 days of diligently doling out her meds, twice a day (No easy task, as any mom will tell you), I accidentally knocked the bottle over onto the counter.
I felt the way an alcoholic would watching interventionists pour the last bit of liquor down the drain, or worse, the way EVERY breastfeeding mom feels when a bottle of pumped milk AKA “liquid gold” is spilled – sob worthy.
I watched as the pink milky blob spread across the counter and did what any other self respecting mom would do. I grabbed a medicine syringe and started siphoning the remains. But, I couldn’t put it back into the bottle, why? I mean, there were 6 days left and at least 4 were staring at me in a blob on the counter. Instead I filled a separate glass with everything I could suck up, and stared at it.
Now, a new mom would probably Continue reading
(Oh, I had both those Barbies and the youngest brother, Jimmy. WTF was wrong with me?)
About a week ago I turned 40 …
I was telling a friend that I’d totally trade in my Gen X status for that of a 30 year old hipster who wears black rimmed glasses (yet has no prescription)… Then I wouldn’t have to admit that I spent most Saturday nights of my childhood hoping beyond hope that Charo would be the surprise guest on The Love Boat or that somehow Shari and Lambchop would find themselves in an eerie episode of Fantasy Island where Shari was the puppet. (What, I’m the only one who wished for that story line? I think not.)
No, I wouldn’t know a ton of things about pop culture, big hair, or bad TV, had I not been a poster child for Generation X. Things like this:
1. I wouldn’t recall the Facts of Life before Edna’s Edibles burned down and Cloris Leachman took over. I’d say, “Who’s Mrs. Garrett?” and “Tootie on roller-skates, really? I don’t think so.”
2. I wouldn’t know what it would be like to get up to change the channel on the television set or how to adjust bunny ears. (For those non Gen Xers, “bunny ears” is not a photobomb technique.)
3. I wouldn’t know how incredibly ridiculous and large, I mean gorgeous, my hair could look by spraying my bangs to the ceiling and simply adding an over-sized scrunchie or clip on the top of my head, or an attractive horse mane-creating banana clip to the back of my hair, or how to weave my own ribbon barrettes à la Olivia Newton John in Xanadu.
4. I certainly wouldn’t have learned most of what I know about grammar, science, math and history from School House Rock. To this day, I can tell you who invented the cotton gin, why 3 is a magic number and how our nervous system is like a telegraph line. I’m also fairly certain the Great American Melting Pot is an actual stew made by the Statue of Liberty.
5. Nor would I know what a Yuckmouth is, what to do when I “hanker for a hunk a cheese” or how not to drown my food in ketchup or mayo or goo.
6. I wouldn’t have diligently listened to Casey Kasem count down the weekly hits while praying Bananarama, Debbie Gibson or The Bangles would take the number one spot (and not have been ashamed to admit it).
7. I wouldn’t know the joy of waking up at 6AM on Saturday morning to catch The Super Friends and wishing there would be a storyline that included one of the random heroes or villains. You know like, Apache Chief, Plastic Man, Mxyzptlk or Bizarro. (Did anyone else think Wonder Woman was hooking up with Aquaman?)
8. Plus, I don’t think I would’ve made it through adolescence without “One to Grow On” or “After School Specials.” Frankly, without the likes of Mr. T, David Hasselhoff, Kim Fields or Punky Brewster telling me not to steal or cheat or throw up after meals — I don’t know that I would’ve turned out OK.
9. I wouldn’t know from Corey Apple, Adam Bomb or Sy Clops.
10. I wouldn’t know the excitement over getting a brand new Brother Word processor (you could type an entire sentence at a time, I kid you not – goodbye white-out).
11. I would have never annoyingly used the phrases and terms: “Where’s the beef,” “Barf me out,” “No Duy,” “Tubular,” “Faced” (as in, “You got faced”) or like the word “like” every like other word in like a sentence. (All to my mother’s dismay.)
12. I wouldn’t have been able to watch (while pretending to be asleep) Eddie Murphy sing “Unce, tice, fee times a mady,” or teach me the word “scum bucket.” I wouldn’t know why Mr. Bill screamed “Oh No,” or why it ’tis better to look good than to feel good.
13. I probably wouldn’t have owned a rainbow assortment of EGs, that we all know were beyond perfection with a pair of simple Keds, or awesome Reebok hightops, or fancied up with a glorious pair of shoe boots!
14. I wouldn’t have attempted to do the flash-dance quick-toe-tap and hair swing while wearing leg-warmers and a splatter painted, off the shoulder sweatshirt for my 4th grade talent show. (Oh, if I could erase that day! Alas, I cannot — years of therapy says so.)
15. I wouldn’t know what it’s like to use my allowance to buy the Beastie Boys License to Ill album (as in LP), and play it on my awesome record player with mono AND stereo… nor would I understand how speakers were also furniture… mine were used as makeshift bedside tables.
16. I wouldn’t know the feeling of getting a Cabbage Patch Kid after being on a wait-list at Caldor that felt like an eternity — and not even being able to pick the one I got, but loving her/him nonetheless. Extra points if you can remember the name, mine was Mitzy Shirley.
17. I wouldn’t be able to wow my children with my awesome dance moves including: The Running Man, the Roger Rabbit, the Cabbage Patch, the MC Hammer, the Robot, the Sprinkler, the Shopping Cart, the Walk the Dog … Oh, I’m goooood.
18. And those references to winding cassette tapes with a pencil that you see on Facebook — I’d see them as meaningless graphic designs to be silk-screened onto a tee shirt.
Shit, did I age myself saying silk-screened?
I meant iron-on.
No?
Glitter decal?
Still no?
Acid washed? Stone washed? Distressed?
Getting better?
Organic? Composted? Made from hemp… green coffee… some material that wicks sweat?
Fine. I can’t fool myself or anyone else, and when I look back at all the crap I got to enjoy, I kinda don’t want to. So, I’ll embrace it!
Gen Xers are like totally awesome…
Happy 40th to ME!
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After writing Tuesday’s post on things I’d never know if I weren’t a Gen Xer, I came to realize that I’m some kind of Generation X genius. I mean, I could be the “Rain Man” of the Gen X set. Seriously, throw some quotes on the floor, I’ll tell you who said them. OK, that test may not work as well as it does with toothpicks in the movie.
But I now see that I’m somewhat stuck in the ’80s, and I kinda like it there. So I thought I’d share some of the most random stuff I remember as a Gen X poster child.
1. Being on a wait list for a Cabbage Patch Kid and not even being able to pick the one you wanted (bonus points if you remember its name — mine was Mitzy Shirley and she had the dreaded short curly hair).
2. Jumping on the eyes of the alligator with Pit Fall Harry.
3. Thinking Flash Gordon had the best special effects ever.
4. That coffee-flavored sucking candy all elderly people had (before anything coffee flavored was cool).
5. The random Super Friends like the Apache Chief, Gleek, and Samurai.
6. Screaming, “Oh my God, the girl in Sleepaway Camp has a penis!”
7. What kind of G-news Gary Gnu shared.
READ MORE: (Right click and open the READ MORE in a new tab or window, so you can come back and read Part One – 15 Things I Wouldn’t Know If I Weren’t A Gen Xer)
Living is South Florida has taught me this: If you want to feel really crappy about yourself and guilt yourself into a starvation diet, you should simply go to South Beach, but if you wanna feel like Giselle, go to a water park.
Look, the beaches here are filled with hot, svelte, uber-tan, scantily clad, could-be models who do things you would normally see in cheesy 80s spring break movies or the making of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition, like whip their hair out of the water in a single choreographed move in slow motion.
For this reason, I always have a cover-up no more than an arm’s distance away as I sit under an umbrella and wonder, “When did I stop being that young, hot, frolicy, slow-motion girl? Wait, was I ever her? Shit, I don’t know if I was ever her, and now I’ll never be her again or for the first time…”
This is why I rarely go to the beach. Buuuuuut, I’ve also learned that to combat this feeling, one does not need to spend Thanksgiving or Christmas break in an Alaska-esque climate where she can bundle up and hide under a trendy puffer jacket.
Nope, one simply needs to take herself and her beach attire to a water park. Though water parks and beaches seem similar on the surface, they’re at their core polar opposites, like Walmart and Target.
Frankly, any park will do because here is a water park truth: No matter how much cellulite, varicose veins, stretch marks, regrettable tattoos or unsightly moles you have, there is someone within a 10-foot radius of you who has more… and she is wearing a bikini.
…a string bikini.
…a string bikini that Continue reading
Do you get zits from unwashed pillowcases or cellphones?
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On this week’s Jenny Isenman Show, my favorite dermatologist, Dr. Doris Day is back! You know, the uber famous one I told you I would totally stalk? Well, she answers tons of my insane questions. Be warned, before you watch, some of the answers are awesome and some may totally piss you off.
Enjoy –
Jenny From the Blog
The questions Dr. Day couldn’t answer: “When the f@ck did I get all these wrinkles.” and “Wasn’t I just going to my prom like last week?” Continue reading
Recently, I wrote about Move-a-Body-Friends. You know, those people you would do anything for, like say, move a body? Since that’s a metaphor (sorta), I thought I’d make a list of things I would actually do (and in most cases already have) for my nearest and dearest. I think most women I know would, and that’s why the fairer sex is kinda awesome!
This one’s for the ladies and also gay men with excellent taste: Thoughts from the Suburban Jungle about Jon Hamm’s Penis.
Yes, after all the shares and comments on FB yesterday … I realized this is the question on everyone’s lips: Can Jon Hamm’s penis save the world? (Which in some way means Jon Hamm’s penis is on everyone’s lips and that’s kinda gross, Jon Hamm!) So, I made this for you guys, also, I was really bored and happened to be wearing full make at the time…
Well, I guess I was on to something when I made this video.
ENJOY – XO JENNY
I couldn’t find his penis anywhere in this picture, which was not for a lack of trying.
Nearly a decade ago, I moved to the suburbs from NYC (it’s the sole reason I started my blog). In that time I’ve learned some pretty important things to ensure my survival, nay, my sanity.
If my ‘burb sent out a handbook it would look something like this. Feel free to use it as a mini-survival guide. Good luck and in the words of that guy on Hill Street Blues, ‘Hey, let’s be careful out there.’
I hope this helps you fit into the suburban life you’ve chosen. Maybe I’ll see you at the next boutique sale — I’ll be selling picture frames with random findings glued on to them!
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Last week, I wrote about having MABFs (Move-a-body-friends): peeps who would help you move a body, no questions asked. I learned some pretty interesting things while assessing where a couple of my “besties” really stood.
In fact, I’m a bit concerned one of my nearest and dearest is currently scared to be alone with me. I guess that’s what you get for asking someone to be your accomplice to murder …
Me: Hey Susan, would you move a body for me … no questions asked?
Susan: Before I answer, is this something that will come back to bite me?
Me: Um, let’s hope not.
Susan: It depends on who. If it was Mark, I’d help you.
Either it’s human nature to assume it’s the hubby or my friends really don’t like Mark very much.
Susan: If it was someone random, I’d have to ask questions.
Me: Like?
Susan: Like, was it an accident? Was it self defense? Could we bring along another person?
Me: Why, you don’t think we could lift a body alone?
Susan: No, I wouldn’t want you to turn on ME!
Wow, I thought it went poorly with the last person I asked. Now, my college roommate who’s known me for like, ever, would want some protection?
Me: After 20 years, I’m thinking I should start branching out.
Both of us were laughing about her distrust in me and fear that I may murder her — hahahah, when this happened FOR REAL:
As she watched me cross the street to go to my car, a gust of wind blew my dress fully up to my ears. Stupid trapeze dresses! We’re talking full view of thong, with my hands full and no way to maneuver to hold it down, other than to completely bend over to place my stuff on the street, which I was NOT about to consider.
I stared at her from my frozen position, in utter shock that she wasn’t rushing to help, but rather standing on the curb laughing. Ahem, laughing doesn’t describe what she was doing — she was in such hysterics that she could barely breathe. “When you start choking over there, just know, I won’t give you CPR!”
I mean we JUST had a conversation about whether she would move a dead body for me?! I think this IS the definition of irony, no?
Still laughing, she came into the street and removed my computer from my arms.
Susan: What? I told you I’d move a body for you!
Me: Oh, I know where we stand. You’d help me move it, but if I tripped over it, you’d just point and laugh. Not cool Susan, if we had a “Best Friend” charm, I’d ask for your half back.