Five Things I Need in a Bestie

Bestie goals.

So I haven’t posted a new blog in over six months. Why? Well, I won’t bore you with details, but mostly because life. Because stress. Because marriage. Because work. Because 4-year-olds. Because 8-year-olds. Because writers block. Because summer. Because back to school.

Speaking of back to school, my daughter just started kindergarten at the school where my son is currently starting third grade.

If you read my most recent blog post, aptly titled People think I’m a Bitch, you may already know that I’ve struck out pretty hard when it comes to snagging some new mom friends from my son’s class. Apparently hiding behind trees to avoid social interactions does not win you any points in the new friend department. But I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf with my daughters class this year. I’ve been given a second chance with these mamas and this time I won’t screw it up. Heck, I’m already planning my future blog entry titled “People Think I Couldn’t Be More Fucking Awesome.” I’m gonna leave that one at the top of my blog for even longer than six months this time!

Sorry for the painful cliche, but this is a new year and a new me. No longer will paralyzing social anxiety leave me hiding behind trees (and no, not just because there aren’t any trees shading the front entrance where the kindergarten classes are dismissed). I’m going to slap on a smile, maybe swallow a Xanax or two, and get my ass in friend-making mode. This year I will meet my future mom friend BFF.

Full disclosure (and before she kills me) you should know I already have a bestie and she’s, well, the best. But whatever, she works a lot.

So here’s the thing. I just have a few small requirements for my future bestie. I know, I know, someone with a social circle the size of a cheerio shouldn’t exactly be picky, but if we’re gonna be sharing wine and bitching about everything from husbands to homework, then she’s gotta fit some necessary criteria. Like the following:

She must drink wine. Like copious amounts of it. I’m not really into that whole “oh I need a glass of wine, I had a rough day” crap where you literally drink just ONE glass of wine and then act like it made an ounce of difference in the shittiness of your day. I want my future BFF to be the type of chick who goes “oh today sucked” and then guzzles a whole bottle before ordering $300 worth of Christmas decorations on Amazon and passing out on the couch with her hands in a half-empty bucket of Party Mix.

She must not be a judgy bitch. Look, we’re ALL guilty of passing judgement here and there. But you can’t be a total witch about it. Like if we’re at the park with the kids or something and I see a woman breastfeeding her kid and  I’m like “hey good for her, breastfeeding her kid in public and not giving a fuck about what anyone thinks” and then you’re like “oh gross, she should put those tits away,” and then I’m like “well the baby’s hungry, it’s no big deal” and you’re like “oh but there are kids around” and “I’m like yeah totally, there’s one even hanging off her boob” and then you actually walk over to the poor woman and tell her to go feed her kid somewhere else, then not only can’t we be friends, but I will loudly call you the C-word before asking Public Breastfeeding Mom to squirt some boob milk in your bitchy, judgemental face

She must watch trashy reality TV. If I send you text during the Bachelor asking who you think is SOL on getting a rose this week and I don’t receive a response within exactly five minutes, then this isn’t gonna work out.

She must not be too weird on Facebook, Instagram, or any other social media site. I guess it goes without saying here that she needs to also be ON Facebook and Instagram, mostly because I’m a huge fan of the screenshot and she should be too. I don’t have any specifics for “not too weird” but if your kid comes down with some hideous rash and you post a photo of it, asking for opinions from all the Google University doctors on your Facebook page instead of consulting an actual doctor, then that falls into the “weird” category. Also weird? Is the compulsive desire to post nauseating pictures of your significant other every day, declaring your undying love for all the world to see as often as possible. Aside from an overabundance of daily selfies, there’s nothing more likely to get you deleted, or at the very least, politely hidden. Don’t mean to sound bitchy, it’s just that if I don’t even want to see your face in my News Feed then there’s no way I want it anywhere near me in real life.

She must dislike talking on the phone. There are very, very, VERY, few people whose calls don’t go directly to voicemail (or they would, if I ever bothered to set my voicemail up in the first place), and I’ve known all of these people for over 30 years. So unless you want to wait til we’re in our sixties to chat, let’s just stick to texting, k?

Are you out there, future bestie?

25 Reasons to Love and Hate Kid Clothes

I can’t help but miss the days when the only wardrobe I had to worry about was my own.  I’ve never really been an amazing dresser. And now that I have to pick out my kids clothes too, I’m pretty stressed out.  It’s just a lot of fashion decisions for someone who doesn’t even know the difference between yoga pants and sweatpants (but definitely owns several pairs of each).

Dressing the kids gets even more perplexing – and expensive – as they get older.  Sometimes it can be rewarding, when they look all adorable and stuff (for however long that lasts).  But most of the time it’s just plain frustrating.  So here’s my take on the whole thing, in twenty-five reasons to both love and hate children’s clothing (in no particular order).

She tried.

She tried.

  1. I’m no mathematical genius, but isn’t 24 months and two years the same exact thing? Like, mathematically and stuff? So why the hell are they two different sizes? And can someone tell me which one my kid should be in?
  2. I have no idea what they call those little bands along the inside of the waist on your kids’ pants that makes them tighter, but they’re the greatest thing to happen to moms since post-c-section Percocet prescriptions.
  3. When it comes to sneakers, velcro is the ONLY way to go.  Why do they even make sneakers with shoelaces for kids who are too young to know how to tie them?  To torture parents?  Because that’s what stopping every five minutes to tie your two-year-old’s shoe feels like.  Slow torture. Right up there with potty-training.
  4. Why are pajamas more expensive than actual clothes?  I’ve been wearing the same ratty, torn-up old t-shirts to bed every night for at least a decade, yet these kids get to cozy up at the end of the day in the very best sleepwear that The Children’s Place sale rack has to offer. What the hell?
  5. Baby laundry is so deceiving. Because one load of the baby stuff equals four loads of adult laundry.  Which, by the way, is also sitting on your laundry room floor waiting to be folded.
  6. Baby socks MUST have grips on the bottom.  I mean sure, you could buy the cheapy ones they sell over at Kmart, but you’ll regret that little attempt at thriftiness when you see the bill for the emergency room visit.
  7. Baby pajamas with zippers will always trump baby pajamas with snaps.  Everyone knows that.
  8. Summer clothes + long sleeve onesies/thermals = instant winter wardrobe.
  9. Baby bathrobes.  Got at least five of ‘em at my baby shower.  Gave away at least five of ‘em with tags still attached. NO ONE USES THESE THINGS.
  10. Baby sunglasses: possibly even more useless than baby bathrobes.
  11. Baby shoes: equally as useless as baby bathrobes but cute enough to be totally fine.
  12. Crocs for adults are a big fat DON’T.  However, crocs for kids are a big fat DO.
  13. Tie dye clothing for kids will forever be a big DON’T.  And FYI, tie dye anything at all is actually an abomination to the entire fashion industry.
  14. They need to just stop selling kids clothes in white.  I mean if I were smart, I’d stop buying white clothes.  But my kids always look so cute in white.  Until they do absolutely anything at all and ruin everything.
  15. Do they even make kids jackets with fully-functioning zippers? I feel like there is a 75% probability of stuckness at all times.  Nope, that’s not a real word.
  16. Every parent has sent their kid to school with their pants on backwards, two different shoes on their feet, and/or without any underwear on at least once or twice.  Don’t feel bad, it happens.  Your kid didn’t care and neither should you.
  17. Girls’ clothes are A THOUSAND TIMES more complicated than boys’ clothes. And I’m catching on slowly.  For example, I know my daughter is supposed to like be obsessed with tutus or something, but I’m still not totally sure when the tutu-wearing is supposed to be taking place.  Like what’s a tutu-appropriate occasion?  If anyone wants to clue me in on this, please feel free. We’re a little tutu-phobic over here.
  18. Blue t-shirt in child’s small- $8.99.  Blue t-shirt in child’s small with Frozen character on the front- $18.99.  Screw you, Disney.
  19. Online shopping for children’s clothing is possibly more addictive than crack.  You didn’t really need to buy food this week, right?
  20. I know I’m going to get some slack for this one, but I’m not sure that the bow on top of your child’s head should be larger than her head itself.  Seriously, it looks ridiculous.
  21. Baby tights + a onesie + a dress/skirt + a dirty diaper = party’s over, time to go home.
  22. Wet bathing suit + a dirty swim diaper + publicly naked toddler = why you should avoid the beach. Also time to go home.
  23. “I WANNA PUT IT ON MYSELF!” when you’re already running late. Darn that pesky independent phase.
  24. Boys shorts have the longest shelf life of any article of clothing.  I literally squeezed THREE summers out of my son’s shorts.  I practically cried when I realized he finally outgrew them this year.  But then I went to Old Navy and spent a jillion dollars on summer clothes and felt better.
  25. My last reason can definitely be filed under “love”.  Because an adult could never rock this onesie– but my little guy sure did 😉Scan 18

Toypocalypse 2013: Some Post-Christmas Observations and Declarations

Remember when you told yourself that the holiday hell would be over on December 26?  Well, take a look at the current state of your living room.  Does it look a little like a Toys R Us warehouse imploded on itself?  That’s because December’s fat lady has yet to sing, darling.  There’s still much to be done.

Has anyone seen the kids?

Has anyone seen the kids?

Here are some of my post-Christmas observations and declarations from this year’s edition of the yuletide insanity-fest we call the holiday season:

Why don’t toy companies just throw a toy in a box and leave it alone? Maybe if they wouldn’t shackle every inch of the damn thing to a piece of indestructible cardboard, then perhaps they could save a few bucks on materials and charge a little less for the overpriced, plastic piece of crap.

Never purchase a talking toy with no off button.  The only way to shut it off is to back over it with your SUV.

If a child is too lazy to peek inside a plain, white, unmarked box, throwing it immediately aside to move on to the next package as though it were just a pair of socks and not the ONLY gift he asked for all year long, then he kind of deserved to think Santa didn’t bother to bring it.  At least, for a little while.

10a.m. is not at all too early for a drink on a holiday (mimosas, anyone?).  Especially not when you’ve been on autopilot for the past 48 hours, alternating between cooking, baking, gift-wrapping, and occasionally pausing to feed the children.

If you stash 25 empty cardboard boxes in some random corner of your bedroom, simply because there was nowhere else to put them at the time, you WILL inevitably fall and bust your ass in the middle of the night when getting up to pee.

Getting socks for Christmas as a child? Couldn’t be lamer.  Getting socks for Christmas as an adult? Totally awesome.  You can NEVER have too many socks.

For some reason, toy companies believe that they need two versions of every toy they make: the regular version and the pink version.  Just because your child has a vagina does not mean that every single toy she owns must match her lady parts.  It is perfectly acceptable to purchase non-pink toys for a little girl.

Did you like to use your couch for sitting?  That’s a shame.  Because you probably won’t even see it again for a week.  You’ll find a place for all these new toys when your desire for a soft spot to place your ass finally begins to outweigh your disdain for reorganizing the kids’ bedroom/playroom.

Taking the tree down is nowhere near as much fun as putting it up.  Wine helps.

Of all the clever little spots where you creatively placed your elf on the shelf in the past month, you’re about to put it in the very best place of all- the attic!  Buh-bye, creepo!

Remember when you were buying all the kids’ gifts and you knew you were doing it partially for your own benefit, because their little excited faces on Christmas morning would just be so priceless?  Channel that feeling on December 26, after you’ve been forcibly extracting toys from boxes, unscrewing battery compartment covers with your blistery, screwdriver-holding hands, and exhaustively trying to fit “part B” into “slot F” for three straight hours—with no end to the toy-assembling madness in sight.

Though the spoiled brats, ahem, kids, have about a thousand new toys to play with EACH, they are still nonstop fighting over the same stupid toy.  You can take the toy away, hide it, toss it, or throw it under the tires of your SUV with its talking counterparts, but the bratty darlings will simply find something else to fight over.  Give up trying to break the endless cycle — just let them kill each other.

School is out for a week.  All rules about no TV-watching and no video game-playing are nullified.  Activate winter zombie child mode and don’t look back ’til it’s 2014.

Good news: now that Christmas is finally over, New Years is only a week away! WOOHOO!! Party time! Oh wait, you have kids.  Never mind.