Category Archives: Funny or Cry

Loud Kids and the Moms Who Hide from Them

Actual photo of my child whispering.

I don’t have any answers.

Usually, when I sit down to write one of these posts it’s because I feel like I have something useful to share, or that I’ve worked through whatever parenting issue I’m addressing and can (at least attempt to) pass along some insight. Whether it be as serious as postpartum depression, or as silly as spending too much money at Starbucks, I generally don’t like to inundate you with my woes about something unless I’m somewhat on the other side of said something, and can maybe help you get there as well. 

Not this time though. This time I am smack dab in the middle of it, and because I have spent so much money at Starbucks recently (see above) and can no longer afford my fancy shrink, you people are going on the journey with me. Welcome. Mind if I lie on your couch for a while?

Ok, here goes. The noise in my house is killing me. Not literally, no, but figuratively AF.

Let me back up. When I was about five-years-old, I remember yelling into my dad’s ear about something while we were playing. He, always fancying himself a comedian, then secretly went into our kitchen, pulled out the ketchup and created a stream of bright red “blood” tracing from his ear down his neck. “You made my ears bleed!” He bellowed. I’m sure my fancy shrink would have lots of thoughts about how this impacted my young mind when it comes to men and trust issues, but since he’s not here, we’ll go with what I know. And what I know is (a) that was a shitty thing to do to a small child and (b) I totally get it now. Kids are fucking loud.

I have two sons. One is on the verge of turning three and the other is about to turn seven. To say they are “loud” would be like saying Ernest Hemingway had “a tiny bit of a drinking problem.” The noise that these two humans create from the moment they wake up in the morning until the moment they finally pass out at night is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, and I lived in NYC for a very long time.

Don’t be fooled by their cuteness.

To be clear, I am not just talking about all the yelling they do when they’re fighting with each other. It’s also the shrieking to high heaven like Oprah just gave them a car when they’re excited, and wailing like Brad Pitt when he finds out what’s in the box when they’re sad. They’re loud when they’re bored, and they’re loud when they’re playing. They’re loud when they don’t get what they want, and they’re loud when they do. It’s just constant. The noise is constant. And I am not handling it well. In fact, I am not really handling it at all. I’m just trying to keep my head above water in a sea of piercing sounds.

Now please, fight the urge to tell me that I will miss this one day. That I, huddled in the corner clenching my sons’ stuffed animals after they leave for college, will look back and wish for them to be wrestling naked on my living room floor squealing with delight as they bash each other into every piece of furniture we own because, as my oldest son explains it, “we show our love through fighting each other.” Do not tell me that I will miss this.

In fact, don’t tell me anything at all. The last thing I need is one more person yammering in my ear.

I think what I really need from you right now, what most moms probably need from you right now, is for you to know that there are few things more valuable to us than the sound of silence. Even if it’s just for a moment. Because let’s face it, most of the time a moment is probably all we’re going to get. 

A moment to catch our breath.

A moment to think about how to navigate the next challenge, settle the next fight, soothe the next tantrum.

A moment to stare off into space, or look at our phones and silently judge strangers on the internet.  Or, I don’t know, maybe even just a moment to pee without the overlords banging on the door the whole damn time.

So like I said, I don’t have any answers on this one, and I’m not necessarily looking for them either. I just needed to tell you that my kids are extremely loud. And I really wish they weren’t.

Thanks for listening. Your couch is really comfy. 

This Is What Happens When You Lose Your Libido

In a different life, or perhaps it was mine but it was just so long ago that it doesn’t quite seem real, I was sexy and cool. I used to play the guitar for 3-4 hours each day, I was accepted into a top acting school in NYC, I would draw and write. I volunteered to walk shelter dogs and sew baby clothes. I read a zillion books, had lots of friends, was always up for an adventure. I was interesting, funny.
 
Now? What am I? Who am I? How did I get so lost? Let me explain. Ten years ago I got married. Six years ago I had a baby. I have heard legends about these magical, unicorn women out there who are able to maintain that sexy vibe all throughout those first years of being a mom. Well played in your sexy nursing bras and knickers! I applaud you, you sexy bitches. However, that ship sailed without me. My main focus when purchasing nursing bras was raw nipples, not making sure I looked hot in them. So with that in mind, my post-baby bras looked something like hideous, beige, padded, uniboob-creating nightmares. The sexiest I managed to get during that time was roaming the house looking for my phone with my tits hanging out through the nursing flaps. That was just the beginning of the decline. In the past six years, I became the lowest person on the totem pole. I forgot all about me. I forgot about all of the things I used to do and I forgot all about taking care of myself. What I had become was “Mom”. Period. End of story.

Continue reading

My Kid’s a Thief. Now What the Hell Do I Do?

The funny thing about parenting (and running a funny parenting blog) is that you never really know what’s going to come next. You may think you have it under control, that you’re navigating the choppy waters successfully, avoiding all the circling sharks, but the next thing you know, bam! You cut your toe open on a jagged lego piece and the sharks move in the for the kill.

That’s a bit dramatic I’ll admit, but it’s exactly how I felt the day I found out my five-year-old son was a thief. Continue reading

Social Media Can Be A Tricky Thing

image via shutterstock

Social Media can be a tricky thing. It can make you laugh, it can make you cry and it can make you viciously angry. Chatting with my women-folk about the ups and downs of social media, we all agreed that the worst feeling social media brewed inside of us was the feeling of being inferior. Life isn’t perfect but some have the gift of portraying it that way. I am not one of those people. Here’s some insight to how to look past the perfection and be ok with the messy.

HOW SOCIAL MEDIA PORTRAYS LIFE

You’ve all seen it. The picture of the incredibly decorated cakes, sitting atop a counter that has absolutely no clutter whatsoever. The counter itself looks like it costs more than my entire kitchen (and probably does). The children are donning the latest fashion trends from the boutique you’ve never even entered because you can’t afford it. Their hair is coiffed in a fashion that looks professional. Everyone looks happy and in love. Continue reading

New Year, Better Moi – A Guide To Making It

Sweaty and eggplant in color. Me.

 

“New Year, Better Me” is my New Year’s resolution. Like most, I’m not great at keeping all my resolutions. I tend to fall off the wagon easily since most resolutions tend to, well, suck. My plan includes meditating more, journaling and (drum roll please) reshaping my Mom Bod. The first two items on the list are easy, it’s the third that will give me trouble.

People constantly say that you should love your body no matter how it looks. I am thankful for my body. But love it? Meh. It’s amazing that I gave birth and that my body was capable of that but damn, babies can do a number on a body! So for me, this is about being healthier and losing a few pounds (and allowing me back into all the clothes that I have outgrown). Continue reading

How I Ruined Date Night with One Simple Mistake

My husband recently turned 37 and to celebrate I decided to take him to a restaurant in our neighborhood that serves a 96 ounce steak. We did not order this steak, but I just wanted you to know that there is a place on the health-crazed, kale-obsessed Westside of Los Angeles that will still serve meat in massive quantities, and for this I am thankful. I digress. The only problem with my plan was that none of our regular babysitters were available. In these instances we have one of two choices. Continue reading

Halloween, Where We Went Wrong and How To Get Your Spooky Groove Back

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My sister, age 5. Self created costume. Pure genius.

It hit me the other week as I gleefully strolled into Target (alone). The dollar section was bursting with everything orange, black and purple. Halloween is looming just around the corner! We haven’t even finished the Halloween candy from last year and I am already facing one of the biggest judgmental holidays of the year. The main offenders are, of course, the two major events of the day. So grab a couple of “fun size” Snickers and let’s talk about them, shall we? Continue reading

Working For A Sociopath Prepared Me For Motherhood

Crazy Boss

I remember the day I hit my breaking point. I hesitantly entered the conference room and there he was, Napoleon in khaki floods, staring at me with laser beam eyes, his face full anger and disgust. After the one-hour, fun-filled abuse fest, I was going to shuffle ball change out of that dank, old TV Station in nowheresville, NJ, never to look back.

Working for a Sociopathic Narcissist has its benefits if you are fresh in your career. Mostly, any new boss after that one will seem nurturing and sane. Secondly, the Sociopathic Narcissists are usually quite intelligent so you can learn a lot from them if you can handle the heat. And most importantly, working for a Sociopathic Narcissist prepares you to become someone’s bitch and I hate to say it but becoming someone’s bitch pretty much sums up parenthood.

Here are 5 ways working for a Sociopathic Narcissist helped prepare me for motherhood. Continue reading

The Great Debate – Then vs. Now

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My Mom

Upon giving birth, my usual list of worries was replaced by a list of grave fears. What was once no big deal suddenly became a huge deal. Like, what if I forget to clean the dryer vent and it starts a fire while we are napping or what if we run out of Organic Baby Shampoo and I am forced to rub my child’s pristine scalp with carcinogens? I often wonder what my daughter will worry about if she has children and think about what my own Mom worried about when we were little. With social media breathing down our necks every second and a sanctimommy lurking around every corner just waiting to judge, motherhood has become something that you MUST excel at, no matter the circumstance. My Mom recently told me that when I was little, kids just played. That’s just what we did. We went outside with our bikes and our friends and came back at lunch or dinner. Parents were not checking in with other parents to make sure they only served organic carrots at a play date. Hell, we were eating raw hot dogs at everyone’s houses all of the time and that was OK! Do we “over-parent” kids now or are times now different with more things to worry about? Let’s take a look at some of the differences. Continue reading

5 Reasons why you need a Mom Group

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Me and my sidekick.

Let me just cut to the chase, prior to having my baby, the term “Mom Group” made me, well, cringe. I imagined the “stroller parking lot” at CPK teeming with crusty strollers filled with gummed up yogurt melts, crushed Goldfish, Cheerio smithereens and shellacked with a thick coat of apple juice. I envisioned a herd of moms trying to hold a conversation and eat a civilized lunch while their infants screamed and toddlers built forts under the table. I feared that along with my bundle of joy, my “parting gift” from the hospital would include a pair of black yoga pants, a spit-up stained tee shirt, an eighty ounce coffee mug and a year subscription to the “I Only Wear Slut Buns” club. Let me also say that I was foolishly under the impression that everything would be all rainbows and gumdrops after MY baby arrived. My plan would look something like Reese Witherspoon with her new baby; pulled together, glamorous, calm and collected. Little did I know the shit storm that was about to be unleashed into my world.

Flash forward to having an 8-week-old baby and after having yet another humiliating breakdown during my lactation consultant appointment, she kindly suggested (urged) that I join a Mom Group. I was so lonely and sad that I agreed to go, seeing that I wasn’t meeting anyone while holed up in my bathroom crying. So ladies, I bestow upon you this pearl of wisdom, unless you are a “sister wife” (minus the total creeper husband) and have your Mom Group living with you, you need to get your hustle on and find yourself a team of supporters. Here are the top five reasons why:

1 – Surprise! Your problems are not unique!

During the depths of our eight-week pediatrician-imposed lockdown, I was completely unaware that there were other new moms out there struggling with the same problems. My baby that won’t sleep anywhere other than the Ergo? Yeah, I had nothing on the mom who had to run the vacuum while bouncing on a yoga ball, humming and breastfeeding at the same time. Morale improved already! Strapping on the Ergo began to actually heal my back; it was like popping a few Doan’s and washing them down with a slug of Wild Turkey. And what I had coined “The Warthog Routine” (the snorting, grunting and frantic head thrashing when feeding) was happening right before my eyes to other babies. Previously, I was convinced it was an early indication of some terrible and rare condition. Not that this is a contest in one-upmanship, but talking with other moms who are in the trenches with you is such a relief. Just knowing that someone else was raising a baby warthog was enough support to keep me going until our next meeting.

2 – Bitches unite!

Perhaps you enjoy the alone time spent sobbing while folding onesies and listening to your baby howl but believe me, you need lady friends. Your baby may be the sweetest, cutest little peanut in the universe but after your partner goes back to work and you are flying solo – suddenly you are staring down the barrel of week six with 12-hour days ahead of you, and the one-sided conversation starts running bone dry. After being out of normal society for weeks, I was so desperate to talk and be around other people, I didn’t care if you had 10 heads, horns, and a tail. If you were at this Mom Group meeting you were fair game and I was going to be your friend, come hell or high water. When I walked into that room, I reeked of desperation. I needed friends who understood what I was going through. Being able to commiserate over your newly found night sweats and hideous mood swings is something only a new mom friend would understand. (Bonus: Your husband will thank you for this since he bears the brunt of both problems.)

3 – You need to get the hell out of the house.

Rejoining the free world seems like an insurmountable task during those first couple of months. Prior to my Mom Group, brushing my teeth required an hour of preplanning and scheduling. After joining the Mom Group, I would turn up the music extra loud to drown out the weird baby noises that gave me massive anxiety and gussy myself up; slap on some lip gloss, put my hair up, dredge up a cute outfit from the bottom of my closet, strap her into her car seat, then immediately take her out again to change her entire outfit due to an up the back blowout diaper and arrive with a few minutes to spare! No sweat (under-boob sweat doesn’t count). Waking up knowing that you have a plan for the day is a game changer, even if it is just going to Starbucks, everyone is just happy to get the f*ck out of the house.

4 – Your breast pump is not talking to you.

The same phenomenon as the hairdryer applies to the breast pump – turn it on and suddenly you think you have heard the doorbell or the baby crying – turn it off, go check, find nothing and repeat. I spent hours with that pump. HOURS. 3 out of 4 times I would have to turn it off because of phantom noises. Chalk it up to reasons 1, 2 and 3. Or perhaps I was so desperate for someone to talk to that maybe I did just hear the pump say, “Your hair looks great”. Thanks, Medela! Love you too, guuuurl!

5 – Your baby will be happier.

I know this sounds a little extreme but hear me out. After I joined the Mom Group and gained a shred of sanity back into my life, I could see in my baby’s eyes a new sense of calm, a new understanding if you will. Despite being my personal stage-five-clinger, she was happy to be surrounded by other 2 month olds who also hated the car with a burning passion and she thrived each time she spit-up someplace new. She needed all of the same things I needed, friends with something in common, new places to go and new people to see. And I swear, after I started slowing down a mile out from a red light so we never had to actually stop, when I looked in the rearview, she winked at me as if to say, “Yeah Mama, I got you”. We were a team.

The women in the photo below are my Mom Group. They are the ones who welcomed me with open arms when I arrived at my first Mom Group meeting. I would not be where I am today without what they gave to me – hope that things would get better, shoulders to cry on, ears that listened to the good, bad and ugly, they never judged or made me feel like I was doing it all wrong (even when it felt like everything I did was wrong). They had advice and suggestions when needed, kept me company and gave me laughs through the long nights of breastfeeding on our chat group. When everything else in my world was falling apart, they were there for me and THIS is why you need a Mom Group.

_DSC3715 farewell to friend
Photo Credit – Lisa Rayman Goldfarb Photography