Headphones & Hormones

They've outgrown the highchairs, they can't hear a word you say, and you don't know whose hormones are worse, yours or theirs. Here's my take on parenting teens as a perimenopausal single mom in 2025.

  • 15 Things That Happen When Your Child is Obsessed With Dinosaurs

    If you have a kid who’s really into dinosaurs, you know that just saying they “like” them is not merely enough. My son, for example, was completely and totally obsessed with dinosaurs for at least three years of his life. I think it started the very moment he laid his tiny toddler eyes on his very first T-Rex. It must have been love at first sight. And from then on, it was all he would ever talk about and think about. We had all the books, toys, stuffed animals, movies, TV shows, clothes, EVERYTHING. It was just dinosaurs, dinosaurs, dinosaurs for his entire toddlerhood and beyond.

    Now that he’s a big boy of six whole years, he’s moved on quite a bit. Video game characters seem to be all the rage these days, but I know his prehistoric pals will always have a special place in his heart. And, holy crap,  I can’t even believe what I’m about to say, but I actually kind of miss those dinosaur days. He drove me a little insane sometimes with the whole obsession, but looking back, it was pretty damn adorable.

    If your little T-Rex head is, or was, anything like mine used to be, then you’ll relate to most (if not all) of these things:

    1. You’ve learned that there is no such thing as a brontosaurus, and apparently there never was. Yup, your science teacher was dead wrong. Nowadays it’s all about the brachiosaurus.
    2. You notice that Dino Dan is clearly on some very powerful hallucinogens, but we’re supposed to just accept it and watch the show anyway, no questions asked
    3. Your visit to the Museum of Natural History starts on the fourth floor, where all the cool dinosaur bones are. Don’t kid yourselves into thinking you came to see anything else (except maybe the giant blue whale- he’s pretty damn cool).
    4. You are way better at correctly pronouncing loooooong dinosaur names than you ever thought, thanks to the little lesson in phonetics under each name. At this point, there is nothing you can’t properly sound out. Micropachycephalosaurus? Epidexipteryx? Xinjiangovenator? Bring it on.
    5. You can never have too many dinosaur encyclopedias. And no, there is no limit to how many pages you’ll be asked to read every night.
    6. Shopping for kids clothes in a store with not even a single dinosaur tee shirt in sight is a complete waste of time.
    7. You will happily pay an inexcusable amount of money for any article of clothing with a really cool-looking T-Rex on it.
    8. Three years old is not at all too young to watch Jurassic Park for the first time.
    9. Barney does NOT count as a dinosaur. Never has, never will. Thank you, lord.
    10. There is no storage bin spacious enough for your child’s vast toy dinosaur collection. And every time you attempt to close the lid, there’s at least one tail sticking out somewhere preventing you from doing so. Better luck next time.
    11. People like to say it’s just a “childhood phase”, which you find hilarious. What kind of “phase” lasts at least THREE YEARS?? We prefer the term “healthy obsession”.
    12. Your child learned the difference between a carnivore and an herbivore before he knew his ABC’s.
    13. You saved money on Halloween costumes, because he (or she!) just wants to be T-Rex every year.
    14. Playing “pretend” has taken on a whole new meaning in your house; there are days that your child won’t answer to anything but “T-Rex”, and you occasionally have to explain to random strangers why your child is roaring very loudly at them for no reason.
    15. You wonder if the dinosaur obsession might continue beyond childhood, and your little one will might even someday choose a career in paleontology. And then you can’t help but think of Ross from Friends.
    roar
    So. Much. Roaring.

     

  • Random Thoughts: Am I The Only One?

    Like most people in this world, I often wonder if I’m the only one who thinks a certain way or feels a certain way about, well, anything. Sometimes I do weird shit, sometimes I think weird shit, and sometimes weird shit just happens to me. But I know I’m not alone. So I’ve compiled this extremely random list for you today.

    I wonder if I am the only one who…:

    • has absolutely no clue how to defog the car windows when it rains. Should it be all the way hot? All the way cold? Is there some kind of a shortcut? Why is this so difficult??
    • has no idea how to use a barbecue, with no intention of learning how to do so. My klutziness doesn’t go well with open flames and it’s terrifying.
    • drives like a total idiot when I’m following another car. What if I lose them? What if they lose me?? Why can’t we all just use our GPS like normal people and meet there???
    • doesn’t understand when people say they “forgot to eat” or “haven’t eaten all day”. How is that even possible? What and when I plan to eat next is like the default setting in my brain.
    • breaks at least one glass, plate, bowl, jar, or bottle per week. I once broke five dishes and seven bowls at one time. Read that ridiculous story here.
    • secretly loves every single song on that damn Frozen soundtrack, and sometimes puts it on without my daughter even asking. It’s time I came out about this one. Dammit, it feels good to be free.
    • still gets a big kick out of stepping on crunchy leaves in the fall. It’s freakishly satisfying.
    • prefers to park my car further away and just walk more. I’m usually a lazy person, but who the hell has time to wait around for the perfect parking spot?
    • can’t make coffee without spilling coffee grinds everywhere. Ditto for the milk if it’s from Costco (you Costco people get it).
    • deletes my Facebook app once every few months, then re-downloads it less than 24 hours later. Who knew the most passionate love/hate relationship I’d ever have in my life would be with a stupid website?
    • always has to think for a second when asked how old I am (but could never fail to quickly recite my children’s ages, birth weight, and the exact minute they were born, if asked).
    • screams “you’re welcome” at strangers who fail to say “thank you” when necessary.
    • occasionally talks out loud to no one in particular….in public.
    • finds wearing socks under a blanket to be physically impossible.Okay…pants, too.
    • feels a surge of pride every time I successfully retrieve an object using only my toes.
    • wears my watch on the “wrong” hand. With a dead battery. If only righties could be lefties two times a day like broken clocks, then all would be right with the world.
    • rarely used my double stroller after having my second child because I kept forgetting how to open it.
    • gets extremely annoyed when I turn on Nickelodeon or the Disney Channel for the kids and realize it’s either 20 or 50 minutes after the hour. Why can’t they just make 30 minute episodes??
    • is grossed out by cold pizza. If it tasted better cold, they would serve it that way in the first place.
    • kinda feels bad for telemarketers. They’re just trying to do their job.
    • unfailingly ends up with the most spastic cart at the supermarket. And it gets more squeaky, more wobbly, and more spastic with every item placed inside.
    • unfailingly ends up in the slowest checkout line at the supermarket. Often behind the type of person who pays for groceries with their checkbook.
    • didn’t learn how to “close out” an app on my iPhone until about two years after purchasing it.
    • quickly changes the channel the second I hear Sarah McLaughlin’s voice. (I’m definitely not alone there, right? Those commercials are the WORST).
    • saves certain outfits or articles of clothing for “special occasions,” and then never ends up wearing them at all. Where the hell do I ever go??
    • thinks window shopping should  mean buying windows instead of buying nothing.
    • occasionally talks on the phone in the bathroom. They can’t really SEE you, you know

    I could probably go on all day, but that’s all the time I have for rambling right now.  Feel free to leave a comment and let me know what’s on your list!

  • Not So Namaste

    i-knowz-yoga-funny-kitten-picture

    I recently started doing yoga.  I also recently stopped doing yoga.

    I suck. Athletically, that is.  Sports, exercising, working out– I basically find anything that requires sneakers and a sports bra to be highly repellent.  Thankfully, I’m one of those people with a decent enough metabolism to keep myself cruising along at a fairly satisfactory weight, without ever doing too much dieting or working out (and by “too much” I mean none at all whatsoever).  Sure, I could benefit from some salad and crunches as much as the next lazyass, but I’m not totally unhappy with the way I look.

    Still I know the whole “good metabolism” thing typically wears off sometime around your mid-thirties, so I figured I might as well start doing something about it now, before I become one of those moms telling people they’re “still trying to lose the baby weight”– as they cart their youngest off to the first day of middle school.

    I chose yoga because it’s pretty low-impact and I’ve heard you get to nap afterward or something like that.  Meditation, napping, same difference. I’m also fairly flexible, so I thought that would help. I can really do a mean Indian-style.  Sorry, that’s wasn’t very PC of me.  I can do a mean “criss-cross apple sauce”. That’s right, criss-cross apple sauce. That’s what the preschools are calling it these days, folks.

    So I started the yoga thing. I found a class, signed up, and started yoga-ing or whatever you call it. And it went great.  I downward-facing dogged. I upward-facing dogged. I planked.  I posed like a tree, a child, a bird, a warrior. You name it, I posed like it. I really kicked ass in there. I walked out of that yoga class like a freaking boss.

    I guess it didn’t exactly hurt that the class was composed entirely of post-menopausal middle-aged women, but whatever.  They were all very nice and didn’t seem to mind my ass in their face. I didn’t mind theirs either.  The ass-in-face phenomenon is apparently unavoidable in a yoga class.

    So I left there pretty psyched. I did way better than I thought I would, and I actually even kind of enjoyed it.  I could have done without all that incense-burning, inner-peace, namaste bullshit, but I guess that’s part of the whole experience.  Maybe it’ll grow on me.  Or maybe not. Either way, I was still a total yogi.

    Well, I was a total yogi until I woke up two weeks later with back problems.

    With the exception of that time I was carrying seven-pounds of human in my uterus (and 40 pounds of pizza and chocolate bars everywhere else), I’ve never had back pain in my life.

    I aged like 15 years in two days.  I couldn’t sit, I couldn’t stand. I was hunched over. I was huffing and puffing around like my 93-year old grandfather when he gets all worked up looking for the remote to put on The Price is Right.  When I almost couldn’t reach the top shelf to grab a wine glass (had to wash all that Aleve down with something), I finally drew the line.  No more yoga for me.

    I think I’m just not meant to do the whole exercise thing.  And it’s so damn unfair. Some people are so  awesome at it. Why can’t I be one of those people who get addicted to endorphins? Like those people who run five miles a day and literally enjoy it. I can’t even be a person who purchases a two-year gym membership and uses it for longer than a week (true story).

    Addicted to endorphins, sheesh. Sure, I have a few addictions. Coffee, Amazon.com, Big Brother (the TV show, not the conspiracy). These are things I simply cannot live without. But endorphins? I’m not even sure what these “endorphin” things even feel like.  Is it anything like a percocet before the nausea sets in? Because if so, then I can see what all the addiction is about. And if so, then maybe I need to buy me a shiny new treadmill. But I’m guessing not.

    I don’t know, maybe I threw in the workout towel too soon.  Maybe when I realized I could actually work up a sweat without hurling on my yoga mat, I started to overdo it– which is what screwed up my back.  Maybe I just need to scale it back a little on all the crazy posing.

    What is that cliche workout saying? No pain, no gain? Just do it? No hustle, no muscle? (I might have actually just made that last one up. I’m not sure. But it’s pretty clever, if I do say so myself.)

    I think I’ll make up another one.  How about “you’re 32 and you haven’t worked out in ten years, you lazy piece of crap. Get off the damn couch, shut off Big Brother, put the bag of Fritos away, and go for a fucking walk”.

    Nailed it.

    Anyone up for some yoga?

  • You Know it’s the First Day of School When…

    blogSo it would have been nice if I’d posted this on the actual first day of school (which was Thursday here in NYC), but like many of you, I drank a little too much celebratory wine that day and was in no position for organized thought. The memory is still quite fresh, though, so read on for some classic first day of school occurrences.

    1. Every other post in your Facebook newsfeed is a picture of a kid sporting a new book bag and a forced smile.

    2. Staples looks like Toys R Us on Christmas Eve.

    3. Your teacher friends are all on suicide watch.

    4. You made the face in the above picture trying to locate everything on your child’s supply list.

    5. The line in the haircut place was even worse than Staples.

    6. You lost your toddler at least once amidst the chaos of first day dismissal.

    7. You managed to avoid hitting too many red lights, but you still got stuck behind at least two school buses.

    8. So. Much. Contact. Paper.

    9. You’ve mentally prepared a list of all the parents you hope to avoid running into (and inevitably end up seeing them all). Side note: I just gave myself an idea for a future blog 😉

    10. You forgot to set your alarm and almost missed morning drop off.

    –or–

    You pressed snooze so many times you almost missed morning drop off.

    –or–

    You missed morning drop off.

    11. You’ve made a long list of things to do when the kids leave for school, but instead you spend the morning drinking coffee, watching TV, and liking everyone’s first day pics on Facebook.

    12. You have so many permission slips to sign that you stop reading them after a while and just start signing. You’re not sure, but you might have just accidentally nominated yourself for PTA president.

    13. You haven’t heard the words “common core” in over two months (but that will change very soon).

    14. You spent a small fortune on brand new fall clothes for school and you’re dying to see how great the kids look in them. Too bad it’s 85 degrees and humid.

    15. Your daughter tells you her best friend isn’t in her class, and it’s a straight up crisis.

    16.  Your eyes sort of watered a bit when you dropped off your youngest, but you’re not entirely sure if they were tears of sadness or tears of joy.  Probably both.

  • Eight Ways Life Improves After Having Kids

    I was watching some Seth Rogan movie with my husband the other day when I got the idea for this blog post.  Honestly, I can’t recall the name of the film, but it was one of those movies where he plays the typical role of the endearing idiot, and by the end he’s become Zany Dad of the Year or something.

    There was an underlying theme in this movie that revolved around your social life going straight to hell after you have kids.  There was a scene in which the husband and wife were discussing this point with one another, and my husband and I were bobbing our heads in agreement, all “heck yea, we have NO life” during the entire scene.

    But instead of detailing every reason under the sun that life blows after kids come along, I’ve decided to go the opposite route and cheer myself up with some of life’s biggest improvements once you take the old parenting plunge. Because I’m all about optimism, folks.

    Ha! I’m a hoot. I really just thought it might make for better reading material.

    1. You have a built-in excuse to get out of things – If you have kids and have never once used them as an excuse to get out of going somewhere or doing something, then you need to go see where you can apply for sainthood. Because EVERYONE uses their kids as an excuse once in a while. Don’t feel like attending Great Uncle Milford’s 95th Birthday party? How convenient that your son seems to have suddenly come down with a 102-degree fever. Woke up with a case of the Mondays? Your boss will understand that the rash your daughter just developed overnight needs some serious immediate medical attention. You see where I’m going with this? Just don’t abuse the power, or people will start thinking your kids have some kind of undiagnosed autoimmune disease and begin unleashing all kinds of unwanted health advice upon you.

    2. Oh, the cuteness – Kids are unbearably cute (especially your own).  Seriously, your kid can pretty much hiccup a certain way and you’ll think it was the most adorable thing you’ve seen since that viral video of the baby panda sneezing. Sometimes you’ll just take one look at those kids and want to squeeze the crap out of their tiny little delectable faces, until their cheeks are all mushed up and their noses are all squishy and they can’t even see you through their eye slits, and then you want to squeeze a little more.  My kids have been known to cause a condition I like to call cuteness overload, and I love every sickeningly adorable minute of it. I’m sure you know the feeling well.

    3. Less hangovers – Before kids, I was always plagued by terrible hangovers.  Maybe I was a lightweight, maybe I didn’t know my limit, or maybe it just never really mattered how crappy I felt in the morning when there wasn’t a little person nearby depending on me to keep them alive for another day. But hangovers after you have kids? Are nothing less than a form of actual torture. So most parents avoid the horrors of hangovers by not pounding tequila shots every time they hire a babysitter.  I usually like to thank myself in the morning.

    delilah sleeping

    4. You literally MADE a person – I don’t know about you, but I continue to be astounded by this fact on a regular basis. I mean, I’ve made a lot of cool shit in my life—everything ranging from Thanksgiving dinner for 30 people to this awesome little website you’re currently perusing—but nothing, NOTHING, compares to singlehandedly (well, I had some very minor help) creating an actual human life form. TWICE. How fucking amazing is that?

    5. Halloween candy galore – If your kids consumed all of the Halloween candy they received on their trick-or-treat route every year, they’d eventually become walking advertisements for childhood diabetes medication. So they need a little help with their sugary stash, and that’s where you come in. Sure, I could sit here, all pretentious, and act like a never-ending supply of Blow Pops, Kit Kats and Twix is actually a very bad, very dangerous thing, but who are we kidding? Admit it, November 1st is inevitably the most gluttonous day of the year for parents– and oh, how sweet it is.

    6. Kids are hilarious – I can’t keep count of how many times in a day my kids crack me up.  As I’m typing this I’m chuckling because my daughter is walking around wearing nothing but a pair of ballerina slippers on her feet and a pair of underwear on her head. Yesterday my son said to me “when me and Little D start school next week, you’re gonna do the happy dance, right?” (kid, you have NO idea). I was dying. You also tend to find humor in some of the things that come out of your own mouth.  “Take your finger out of your butt!”, “stop putting mushrooms in the Brita pitcher”, and “rub mommy’s back and you can have cookies” are some of my own personal favorites.

    7. It’s a good excuse for a messy house – I shouldn’t really say it’s an “excuse” for a messy house. More like it’s impossible to keep a neat home with children in it, so you can just go ahead and give up trying. I can’t count how many times I’ve gotten that little itch to start cleaning shit, then broke my back scrubbing down every square inch of my house until it was sparkling like the top of Mr. Clean’s head, only to find myself standing in the middle of what appears to be the aftermath of a small tornado less than 24 hours later. I’ve since made a solemn vow to myself and my sanity to never go all June Cleaver up in here again. I suggest you do the same. 

    8. They can go get stuff– Those of you with kids who are still too young to do this don’t yet understand how frickin cool it is.  I’ll never forget the first time I encountered the sheer awesomeness of “go get mommy the remote” and watched as my two-year-old nephew toddled over to the TV stand to retrieve the remote for my sister. I know this makes me sound like the laziest person in the world, but once your kid starts bringing you stuff, you’ll be just as amazed as I am. I mean, we do enough for them. They’re merely returning the favor.