Jan 23, 2009

Things that make you go Hmm....

For those of you who don't know me personally, I am a passionate reader. 

Reading has always been something that I can always count on to clear my mind, teach me new things and hell, just relax. I collect books like lip glosses. I seriously believe you can never have enough of either. It's hard for me to replace my current favorites, but when I do, if you're a bestie of mine, you can be sure I'll be gifting you that book in the near future. I do the same thing with lip glosses.

Anyway, I stopped in Barnes & Noble with Oliver this afternoon and meandered my way toward the kids section. While I don't need another kids book (Oliver is only 4 months old) I firmly believe a child cannot have enough of Shel Silverstein, Leo Leoni, or Dr. Suess.

That's when I saw it. And my reaction was...Holy Hell...wtFFFF.

There were, no joke, 60 strollers in the middle of the store.  I was sure there was an event taking place so I kept walking to check it out.  

Now I know Tribeca is the new family central in NYC, but I was not ready for the 100 or so kids under the age of 3, running around like they were on sugar-coated crack.  They were tearing apart toys, teaching themselves to walk and emptying book after book off the shelf and eating them. 

Where was the supervision? 

In the corners, in the shelf aisles and all along the floor, as it was in high school, there were cliques of nannies socially organized by race and geographical location. 

First of all I noticed these nanny's are NOT focusing on watching the child they are being paid to care for. They are eating and gossiping and talking on their phones.  I know. I eves-dropped on like 7 of them.

Second, what about the store's poor employees! Can you imagine yourself having to clean up after this mob goes home? I asked an employee if this happens everyday and she sighed and said yes. Oh shit what a crappy job.

And finally, I left thinking that B&N could be the most unsanitary place in the world now that I know every book has been in the sticky mouthes and fingers of every babe in the neighborhood. Talk about a place to get sick.

So what are the options?  

Work and leave your new baby with a nanny? Or stay at home and give up a few years of your career life? 

It's a tough call, and I'm finding myself caught smack dab in the middle.

Jan 22, 2009

Keep it to yourself mama...

From the moment you share the news that you're pregnant it can feel like you're getting hazed.  Everyone suddenly feels the need to "initiate" you by telling you what you're in for and how you have no way of prepping for what you're body has told you is already on the way. 

For the first 5 months of my pregnancy everyone told me how small I was, that I was carrying so high, and that if I hadn't thrown up yet you can be sure I would at any moment. For the last 4 months, they flip-flopped and decided I was too big, carrying low and should prepare myself for an excruciating 30 hour delivery with no medication, sleepless nights, and never going out for dinner ever again.

A coworker expressed disbelief when I didn't have a pediatrician locked in at 30 weeks. Strangers at dinner shot me dirty looks when I had a sip of Brett's wine. And when I ordered vegetable sushi a waitress wanted to know "if I was sure?"  My doctor assured me the occasional indulgence would not deform my baby.

And, it didn't seem to stop after I gave birth.  My doorman told me Oliver should be wearing a hat at all times. My cleaning lady expressed her concern that "el bebe cry mucho." And the checkout woman at Food Emporium actually told me my diaper bag was inefficient. The final straw, however, was my pharmacist at the old Dwizzel Rizzel (Duane Reade for those of you who don't live in my apartment).  I had a question about the formula I was buying. Well, instead of answering me, she exclaimed:


I'm sorry, but I didn't realize I needed to include you in my most personal of decisions you stupid-ass slut! Yes. Breast is best. I've heard it a million times.  But frankly, some of us can't and some of us frankly don't want to. You don't see me going around gasping:


No. I would never do that. I think it's a beautiful thing to be able to do.  But as far as I'm concerned breast or bottle, stay-at-home or working, nanny or day care, co-sleep or crib sleep, epidural or natural, public or private school, cloth diapers or disposable, you decide what works for you. It's not my business to initiate you into the club of motherhood. You'll figure it out. Everyone does.  

Here's a story in the NYtimes by Lisa Belkin which spoke about this much better than I did:
Let me know what you think.

Jan 20, 2009

We did it America!

I'd like to raise a glass (my mug of morning coffee) and toast today.  

Today, W. and his loser wife Laura leave D.C., and we WELCOME the Obamas.  

We welcome their inspiration, their message, their love, their ideas, their thoughtfulness, their common decency, their sparkle, their radiance, their candor. We welcome their civic responsibility.  Hell, we welcome their international responsibility. 

Congrats America.  We did it.

Jan 19, 2009

Sunday stroll around the neighborhood...

Yesterday, Brett went for a run.

He was gone for a long time... longer than his usual jaunt. Just when I was starting to worry about him he burst through the doors insisting I've GOT to go down to Greenwich Street. He said everybody in the neighborhood is there, the police, the fire department and every news van in the city. So, I threw Oliver into the stroller and walked the few short blocks. And there it was.

The US Airways Jet that landed in the Hudson was sitting there. Just 50 yards from me on the lawn where my husband and I relax in the summer and play Scrabble. The engine is ripped off and while it's very obvious the plane is not in the best shape it is definitely and impressively intact. It is a shocking sight. Especially when it's sitting in your neighborhood's backyard.

I hope Sully gets himself front row ticket to tomorrow's inauguration. If anyone deserves it more than Bono, it's definitely Pilot Sully.

Here's a picture of Oliver with the "Miracle Plane" behind him.

What'd you do this weekend?

If you live in NYC like me, I'm sure you had a fabulous weekend.  

Despite the weather being a bit on the freezing side, I have no doubt you got your hair blown out, wore your fave Intermix dress that barely covered your girl parts and trotted down to Butter or Marquis, or wherever the hell you go, to booze it up and dance the night away. I'm sure you got home to your warm bed around 6am this morning, slept in till 4pm, caught up on all that beauty sleep you so crave, and then woke up and did it all again on Saturday night.

Well I think you're a whore.

While you were getting your hair blown out I was letting my hair air dry into a mess of frizzy, untamed curls. My baby needed his pacifier because he chucked it somewhere in his crib. And, since he can't look for it himself, I had to get it for him, thus missing my opportunity to blow-dry.

When you were getting dressed into your adorable low cut dress and saddling into a fresh pair of Manolos, I was putting on my mommy sweats again and gym shoes so I could be ready for anything Oliver throws at me, literally.

When you were coming home at 6am relishing the adventure that you were on for the past 7 hours, I was waking up.  Yup, I was starting my day as I've started my day, every day for the past 3 months and 19 days: Getting shot in the eye with a healthy dose of pee by the lovely boy.

But you know what?  It's all good.  

Because while you were out slutting around town I got something this weekend that made everything all okay.  Yup.  I sure did.  And my husband and I used it over and over and over and over again...all weekend.  For HOURS at a time.    

You want to know what we did ALL WEEKEND LONG?  

2 words for you.

GUITAR HERO. Yup.  We played Guitar hero on our wii ALL WEEKEND LONG. And let me tell you how AWESOME this game is.  We played, no, we ROCKED OUT, non stop. I can't wait till tonight.  I have a feeling we're gonna play again.

Whose the whore now?