Parenting, Uncategorized

Oh, Snap! My bikini top fell off.

I guess I ruined the surprise…but NOT for those families on the beach, who witnessed my bikini top come undone as I took off my sundress to swim! My 8-year-old started cracking up, chagrined, mouth agape, yelling, “Mom!” as I reflexively cupped my flesh and ran for cover. It was almost ironic that it happened, just as I finished telling her that I found those G-string bikinis that teens wear these days to be inappropriate and too revealing. (I mean, you can see their entire can)

Well, lo and behold, I was worse!

Ta-Da! Jazz hands... Take that, people. Here’s the real deal–oh, and no (G-) strings attached. Or any strings, for that matter.

It’s also interesting to note that the one day I decided to wear a bikini, as opposed to my typical one-piece, is the day I decided to go swimming. See, Moms don’t swim. Am I right? I had this conversation the other day with my friend. We (a) don’t want to have to get our hair wet, particularly if we just blew it out straight; (b) have no patience to scoot around on an innertube for more than a few tugs, and (c) hate being cold, wet, and stepping on crabs. In fact, my son had just caught a large, blue crab and released him nearby. No, thanks.

This is the image I found when I Googled “Wet and Cold Mom.” Hm.
But it was cute.

Anyhoo, I decided to swim today, because I was being nice. I took one for the team, and said I’d join the kids. And, I wore the bikini today only because I had not eaten yet, so I was kind of skinny and like a deflated snake. Of course, once I ate a bag of goldfish from the lunchbox I packed, I was immediately back to my old shape.

Normally, I eat breakfast. But, I have been watching this show on Netflix that features models and is about fashion, and I want to look like them. I mean, sure, I’m not 20. Or 30. Or even 40. But, I am aiming for the stars. So, I decided to skip breakfast and only have an apple for lunch. I planned to only eat apples for the week, because that’s how Christian Bale became super-thin for The Fighter and Anne Hathaway lost like a third grader to be malnutritioned for Les Miserables.

I’m not sure that aspiring to look like someone who is “miz” is a good thing? But, hey, apples worked.

Is it bad I want to look like this?

So, I ate one apple.

Then, I ate the goldfish at the beach, because I was starving. This led to last night’s left over steak tips, and here we are. Damn.

Maybe tomorrow.

Ya’ know what I won’t do tomorrow? Wear my string bikini to the beach.

Uncategorized

A Slow Roll –and Halt–to Neutered Mom Town

I look like I’m having a midlife crisis, wearing my 8-year-old daughter’s Mexican floral blouse as a dress with matchy-matchy dangling earrings. It’s like a cross between Frida Kahlo and going out for margaritas on Cinco de Mayo. This got me thinking: what is up with my mom gear?

“I’d like salt on that margarita, along with female empowerment and pain”

I may need an intervention. This first occurred to me a few weeks back when I found myself shopping, for real, in the Chico’s store. I mean, when you’re shopping at Chico’s in your 40s, you may as well just put on an adult diaper and call it a day. No, that’s mean. Chico’s is fine—for someone else. Ha, that’s like when someone insults something you have in your closet, and they say, “No, it’s fine! It’s just not for me. I can see it’d be amazing on you!” No, you can’t; you’re just a bad liar. And not my friend anymore. Kiiiidding.

I recently went through my closet to pare down, realizing I was saving dresses, pants, and jeans (so sad…I will miss them) from my 20s and 30s that I will never fit into or wear again. During this cleanse, I was frightened by the number of Lilly Pulitzer dresses in my closet. It’s like someone barfed neon flowers in there. And, worse yet, I think I kind of hate Lilly now. Wait, for me, I mean…it’s fine on you.

I also have been dog-earing pages in the Talbot’s catalog. First of all, who even reads catalogs anymore? Well, I do, because it’s the only mail I actually enjoy, and magazine subscriptions are a thing of the past. Second, who dog-ears them? Like, make a decision. Buy it now or never. Third, Talbots is just one small step closer to Chico’s. It’s maybe a little more “profesh,” as in “I get my work clothes there.” But, that’s not true, because I legit just bought a cardigan there for my trip to Charleston that had pink, green, and blue buildings on it with green trees, and it looked like a South Carolina landscape. (LOL) I mean, it could be worse. I almost bought the Capri cropped salmon-colored jeans that matched it. I had them in hand and realized I was in neutered mom territory. That’s not good terrain.

Typically, swimwear choices can be an indication that you’re going down elderly lane, like when you have a one-piece with a skirt, or something with a ton of scrunching around the waist and a padded underwire. I haven’t gotten there yet. In fact, I may have gone the other way, because my son told me yesterday that I was wearing a “hooker bathing suit,” because there’s like this mesh, see-through material over part of it. I know that sounds kinda gross–the see-through part, not that my 11-year-old called me a hooker. Well, that’s a whole ‘nother issue. And also gross. But, yeah. Maybe I should toss that in the donation bag too.

Me: Who wants to go SWIMMING???

I did just splurge on some Prada sunglasses, which is beyond wasteful and stupid. It was more for retail therapy than anything. I wanted to make myself feel better after trying on a miniscule floral sundress at H&M that was skintight and 2 inches below my underwear. I looked like Blossom in that 80s sitcom, Blossom. I mean, I have no business shopping at H&M anymore. However, I DID find a cute leopard blouse, which I bought, and I probs look more like a cougar than a leopard in it...Note to self: don’t wear that to a bar after 8 p.m.

All this is to say, I am reevaluating my clothing choices. It’s easier to focus on this, of course, than to focus on the multitude of other more important things in my life, like wanting to get my book published or making more money…but, hey, at least I’m being productive!

Uncategorized

10 Things I Wish I Knew When I was 30

  • 1. You are not old. Your eggs are not rotting. You will get married and have children, and you’re not “almost 40.” Just wait till you’re 40. Or, worse yet, 47…
  • 2. Stop being so wistful and hopeful and get a career that actually is lucrative. It may be all fun to be an artist now, but if you’re one of the very few who “make it,” even if you’re truly talented, it won’t be fun when you have to reinvent yourself in ten years and wonder why all your friends have people who report to them, and you’re entry level.
  • 3. This follows #2: Money matters. Yeah, I know; I know. “Happiness is what’s important; money isn’t.” Giiiiirl, I used to think that, too, when it was cool to live in a fifth floor walk up studio in NYC. Not so cool when you have two children to support, a mortgage, a car payment, and bills. Get a real job. And, sadly, money makes the world go round. This was a hard lesson for me.
  • 4. Divorce totally sucks. So, be very mindful of red flags and any other issues before you get married. The choice to marry someone is actually huge. And, even if you’re 30, panicked, and want to be like all your friends and get married, don’t just insert groom/just add water with whomever you’re with at that age. Be picky. Wait. Be prudent. Be wise. Listen to your instincts.
  • 5. Following #4, don’t have kids if you’re not in a happy marriage, because they are not a bandaid, and it will make divorce all the more complicated, as you will forever be joined with the father of your children. And, if that happens, then be nice. It’s more important that you coparent well than hate your ex. Your kids need both of you, and they want to love both of you.
  • 6. Don’t begrudge having to go to another wedding at age 28. You know why? The invites will stop soon, and then you’ll miss the free booze, dance floor, and revelry of weddings! They are so fun! Later on, they are far and few between. Worse yet, you are no longer at the “single’s table;” you are the overweight aunt in the corner, who is dancing to Brick House. #justsaying
  • 7.Start botox by age 40. If you catch the wrinkles early, it’s easier to fix than later when you have indents in your forehead and wonder why you look extra terrestrial.
  • 8. Following #7, wear sunscreen. I know it’s fun to get tan, and you look better, but either go get some Jergens Glow or spray tan, instead. Getting sunburnt will age you, create wrinkles, and can cause skin cancer. It’s real.
  • 9. Most problems at 30, in my experience, are not as bad as problems at 40. So, be conscious of that and chill a bit. You’ll wish you didn’t waste the youthful time agonizing. Go out with friends, or on a hike, instead, and have a good time.
  • 10. I mean, maybe don’t listen to other people (like me- ha!) Follow your gut and “the whispers,” #oprah. You will land on your feet. It will be okay.
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Guilt: When the “Staycation” Lacks Luster

When I took my children to the community playground yesterday, I felt sort of guilty that they weren’t on some fabulous trip for their school vacation. I thought about us parents who were there on the swings, and what our situations were that made us “stay home” this vacation (aside from vaccines). Was it money? Co-parenting schedules with divorce? Work responsibilities? All of the above?

I thought back to my childhood when I remember being on the “staycation” in Cleveland during spring break, because my parents both worked, and my mom also got her Ph.D. at night. We went to the Museum of Natural History, and we toured Cleveland. We went to the mall, had some meals out (Burger King and Wendy’s were a treat), and I watched TV . I went back to school pale as Casper, while others had a marked sunburn (this was when it was cool to burn in the ’80s). I recall feeling less privileged, which is funny, since I was in a private school (read: privileged) and really want for nothing.

Yesterday, after the playground, my kids and I walked to get ice cream, and I took them to the store for a toy. She got a Rapunzel doll, and he got a Kit Kat and bandages, so he could pretend to be wounded while playing war outside when we got home.

The kids picked these

It was a super nice day together, and I know they had fun, but I still felt sort of bad we were “home.”

I know I should not.

Truth is, I asked them: would you want to go somewhere later in the week?

She said, “I don’t like Florida.” (She only says this because of alligator fears)

Yikes

He shook his head, “no.”

I wonder if they really meant that. I know time together is what counts…

But I couldn’t help wonder if they were trying to make me feel better.

Uncategorized

Why are Some People So Rude? I’m Tired of It.

You know what I am tired of? Rude people. I have spent an inordinate amount of time this week trying to just not absorb negative energy and hostile behavior surrounding me, but it’s out of control. There are only so many times you can be like water off a duck’s back, or Teflon, or whatever analogous thing you must be to fend of vitriolic blasts. UGH!

This is not me.

I am not going to write a blog on how to reject or recognize toxic people, since there are many of those blogs (and people)–believe me; I’ve read them.

But, I do wonder a few things. First, I wonder how people can be so blind and detached about other people’s feelings and lack diplomacy? I know, for myself, (and I’m an empath), I always think about how what I say or do will land if it’s something potentially sensitive. I spend inordinate amounts of time “feeling bad” about everything, and I can’t comprehend when people can be outright hostile unapologetically. In fact, I feel bad so often, that my family and I started a jar where we’d all put a dollar in it every time we said “I feel bad.” We figured this would be a great way to save for an opulent vacation, since we say it so many times a day. Today, I owe $2.

Maybe some others should start a jar.

Next, I wonder how we all got so angry. Granted, the pandemic is certainly horrible, and we are all cooped up and pissed off on some level about the injustice. But, really…haven’t we learned that human life is fragile, that we are better served being peaceful and taking time to be somewhat grateful? Why be so MEAN to other people and lash out? Like, what purpose does that serve?

If you have something mean to say, figure out a way to say it tactfully. In short, at its most basic translation: stop sucking. Really.

Lastly, I wonder why no one corrects these folks who feel it’s okay to walk around being so offensive. I think, sadly, some people are proud of the their “I don’t give a ****” attitude and wear it like a badge of honor. There are bumper stickers, magnets, pins, etc. that all have that as a motto, as IF it is some kind of virtue. No, in fact, being humane and caring about others is probably more meritorious and deserving of praise than being caustic with armor up all the time. Go to therapy, heal thyself.

These people obviously are hurting. We should FEEL BAD for THEM.

I just wish it didn’t first hurt me.

WHAH. That’s me crying inside right now.

See, now I feel bad. For real. For myself.

xx