On my way to see the Magic Mike with my besties, all I could think was, Are we the only ones rushing out to see this peep show… and how hard up does this make us?
Hard up enough to go on opening night and see it with a theater full of gawking teenagers. Wait, did I say teenagers? Because I meant 30-50 year olds. Continue reading
So, as you can tell from the last post, (Confessions of an Irrational Mom), I’ve been totally anxiety stricken lately. I wasn’t able to put my finger on why, until I looked at my finger and saw that I’d done this to my beautifully manicured gel nails.
Since this pic, I've ripped the overlay completely off with my teeth and bitten them to the quick. Annie, I'll see you in a month.
Then it dawned on me, it’s camp. Sending my son to camp makes me mildly certifiable. Knowing I have NO control over whether my baby puts on sunblock or brushes his teeth, or eats Fruity Pebbles everyday for breakfast, lunch and dinner, or runs with flip-flops on rocky terrain, or doesn’t make the intercamp team, or gets taken advantage of.
Look, I get it — Continue reading
Before having children, I had no idea how much of a control freak I actually was. Yes, I always had the anxiety part, but even that grew 10 fold. My hubby and I lived in an apartment in NYC, where he was able to mask his inability to do simple household things like, change lightbulbs, hang pictures… use a screw driver. We had people to do that. Yes, the maintenance men were my BFFs — a small tip and they were caulking or hammering away.
Then we had kids and moved to the ‘burbs, where I realized that not only was my hubby not the type to do stuff around the house. I was not the type to delegate. My anxieties and need for perfection made his work seem incomprehensibly inferior. (The cause of many an argument)
So, Continue reading
Jake’s Friend: What happened to the big cushion on your sofa?
Me: We removed it because it was too comfortable and we weren’t able to get people to leave our house when we wanted them to go.
Friend: Really? Continue reading
What, are familial relationships not about winning? I’m sorry, I’m an only child, I never had to compete for parental favoritism with siblings. And I must admit, my son’s essay puts him slightly ahead of his sister in the race for my love. I’m totally kidding. I love them both, but you can’t love them the same, can you?…As this is the end of the school year, all of my children’s work has slowly trickled into the house. You know, like the way Andy Dufrene releases the bits of wall in Shawshank? Tests, artwork, essays, scraps of scribble.
One of the prizes in the huge pile of things that will never make it to the circular file was a piece on who my son admires most. It started with this line, “I look up to my Dad and my Grandparents, but the person I admire most is my Mom.”
My first thought?
I won! Yep, you heard him. He admires you other people too (or maybe he just wrote that to be politically correct), but I’m in a class by myself. He said so… Continue reading
A story of my dear friend, what she knows now that could have saved the life of her child and thousands of others, what she’s done with that knowledge, and why you should know it too.
I know, it’s not my usual humor column fare, but it’s nice to be able to tell the important stories every once in a while…
Phyllis seeing me off to a boyfriend's prom circa 1990. (Please ignore the hair. Oh and the eyebrows, duh.)
I became friends with Phyllis in the 7th grade. I wasn’t exactly the coolest 7th grader. In fact,… Continue reading
I so enjoyed Glamour’s article, 30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know by the Time She’s 30. Shockingly, I could check many of those items off my to-do list. What’s more shocking is that I’m not 30 anymore, not even close.
A whole decade has passed. Where did it go? An amazing husband, multiple careers, a recession, two incredible children, and the blink of an eye later, I’m here, turning the corner on 40. There are many subtle yet life-changing differences a decade makes. (This may not be as sentimental as it’s predecessor, but hey, I’m a humor columnist):
By 40, you should have… READ ON, IT’S WORTH IT! Continue reading
Recently, I went to a sex party, which one of my friends was co-hosting. Upon entering, I was quickly introduced to the “Sexpert.”
“Jenny this is Julie, she is a penis expert.” No joke, that’s how she was introduced. This made me wonder: why people don’t introduce me as something cooler?
“That’s funny. I’m somewhat of a penis expert myself,” I said, buffing my nails on my shirt as if cleaning an apple. Then I blathered something about not being a pro like her, because I didn’t want to jeopardize my amateur status. You know, for the Olympics? Jenny what the hell are you talking about? Did you just mention the Olympics? The Olympics of what – hand-jobs? Just shut up, already.
Sometimes when I’m uncomfortable I use exaggerated humor to fill conversational gaps. Did I say use? I meant abuse, like in the form of an oddly misplaced stand-up routine, which can become painful to watch and often requires more than a two drink minimum.
“Oh, what do you do?” she asked, not knowing what to make of my schtick. “Are you a urologist or something?”
“No, I’m just a slut.“
Really, Jenny? Did you just say that? What’s the matter with you?
“I’m not really a slut, I’ve just… Continue reading
What kid doesn’t like to trash talk – especially boys? It must be in the genes because I definitely don’t walk around the house saying stuff to my son like: “I’m so much better at brushing my teeth then you are.” (Even though I totally am.)
What? Please, he’s had like 6 cavities and I’ve had 2 and I’m tons older. My oral hygiene seriously crushes his!
Fine, so maybe it’s not so surprising that they trash talk, but I want to know if it carries over into all facets of life?
My son plays on a travel baseball team and one of his teammates is also a Mathlete. Yes, I said Mathlete, it’s a word.
So, during a double header, where our team chanted really cool stuff at the mound in unison like, “A meeting, a meeting, there must be cheating.” I turned to that friend and asked if there’s trash talking on the Mathletes playing field – because that would be really funny.
And so me and my favorite “humor catalyst” (See: What Happens When You Scream “Penis” in Front of a Bunch of 9 Year Olds – for an explanation and a full on giggle fit) began to imagine what that trash talk would sound like:
Amy: Yeah, he totally trash talks. He says stuff like, I’m gonna count you out!!!
Me: Oh, and, when I’m done with you, you’ll be 1/3rd the boy you are today….
That’s 33.3%
.33333
Amy: .333 infinity
Me: You’ll be a freaking decimal when this is over.
Amy: Continue reading
“…It may be too late to train our hubby’s to dole out the ego boosting compliments, but our children? Yes, yes (twist handlebar ‘mooostache’ if you have one), we can work with this. Here’s a list of phrases I’d like to teach my children to say. Feel free to borrow it – it’ll make you feel good…”
Not my little girl... but still pretty cute.
The other day my daughter said, “I bet people who just meet us think we’re sisters.” Frankly, that’s a bet I wouldn’t take, but who am I to sneer in the face of lovely sentiment? I mean, that’s the kind of phrase you would have to train (or pay) a child of 7 to say, but no, she did it on her own volition. No, coaxing or prodding, not even in the hopes of getting a new Barbie out of the deal. Though I think a phrase like that deserves a new iPad – at a bare minimum.
The effect of this simple observation, that my clearly brilliant child made, was utter joy- total narcissistic mirthfulness – and that’s not a phrase I use often, as you can imagine.
This got me thinking: If this tiny guileless thought could make me feel so great, why can’t we train our children to say things that will make us feel more hip, young, or smart, and less twitchy or stabby?
Truth is, Continue reading
While searching for a pic I found this. I guess I
On Valentine’s Day I was reading through the V-day Sweethearts, you know, the conversation hearts, the ones that are supposed to represent the sweet nothings you would whisper in your lover’s ear before bed. Like: I love you, be mine, kiss me… blah blah blah. So in that vein, I’ve made a list of what should be etched in red on those cute little hearts.
BTW this article is not for newlyweds, so you can refrain from reading and telling me how head over heels you are. Give it a few years. Ahem- I mean, I’m happy for you. Frankly, you can avoid this article unless you’re past the 7 year itch. Sorry, but resentment and boredom takes time to cure, like a salami.
WIVES CONVERSATION HEARTS:
I BOUGHT ANOTHER PAIR OF SHOES, DON’T WORRY THEY WERE ON SALE
SHH… THE REAL HOUSEWIVES OF BEVERLY HILLS IS ON
NO, I WON’T PUT THAT IN MY MOUTH Continue reading