Reichen: “The girl in blue hurt me today.”
Me: “She did?”
Reichen: “Yeah.”
Me: “What happened?”
Reichen: “She hit me in the head with a car and then I yelled NAUGHTY GIRL!!! NAUGHTY GIRL!!! And then…”
{pause} {pause} {pause}
Reichen: “I spit in her face.”
What my 3 year old said happened after I dropped him off for an hour at the gym daycare this morning. After I died a little on the inside, we had a very long conversation about how you never spit at anyone. Ever.
“What,” she asked my husband as she shuffled out of her car.
“What do you mean ‘what?’ You just hit my car,” David growled through gritted teeth, while pointing to the spot on his passenger side door where the woman just smashed.
Even David admits it was an accident. He said the wind whipped the door from her hand as she was scurrying out of her car to get a sandwich. And the thing that stopped it: my husband’s door. But that’s no excuse for what she said next.
“I didn’t hit it hard enough to leave a dent,” she shrugged. And then, she walked away.
No, I’m sorry. No, I can’t believe I just did that. No, I didn’t mean to hit you. Nothing.
Irritated, David repeated the story to me when he delivered my 6 inch tuna Saturday afternoon. I asked him to drive to the subway shop across the street to get us grub since I didn’t feel like making lunch.
“How would she know she didn’t leave a dent,” he grumbled. “She didn’t even look at it.”
I agreed. I was stunned at the stranger’s reaction to the situation. If it had happened to me, I would have been stumbling all over myself to say I’m sorry.
I would also hold the door for a struggling mother trying to maneuver in the mall with two toddlers in a stroller while holding the hand of her third child. I was in the parking lot several yards behind her and knew the guy two steps in front of her would hold the door.
He didn’t. The door slammed a second before she could reach it.
Waiting in line at the store this evening to buy groceries, I watched as the man in front of me hefted 6 or 7 frozen pizzas from the bottom of his cart onto the conveyor belt. Those pizzas were the last of a lot of food. He bought so much, he filled an entire 2 carts. I don’t even want to know how much this man paid for all those groceries.
It was probably 10 minutes later when I was paying for my food that I realized the man’s pizzas were still in the store and he wasn’t.
“Are those that guy’s pizzas,” I asked the teenager who bagged them.
“Yeah,” he casually replied. “I saw him leave them. He’ll be back.”
“That guy bought 2 carts of groceries,” I said, “He won’t even know he’s missing them until he gets home.”
“Oh. I guess that’s his problem,” he said.
That statement just about sums it up, doesn’t it? There’s an ‘it’s not my problem’ mentality that’s infecting our society.
It’s not my problem you forgot your food. It’s not my problem the door slammed in your face. It’s not my problem the wind dinged your door.
It’s. Not. My. Problem.
Here’s the thing: it is a problem.
It’s a problem empathy for others is fading. It’s a problem consideration for others is waning. It’s a problem compassion for others is dissolving.
‘It’s not my problem,’ is a problem. A serious one.
Reichen: “What is that, Momma? Is that a little bit of poop?”
What my 3 year old toddler said to me after I spilled taco meat all over myself.
Finally.
You sleep.
But your slumber isn’t sound.
It’s smothered in sickness.
So you barricade yourself in a ball.
The only weapon you have in this battle.
And you sleep.
Finally.
Issue 3 of Lonny Magazine is here!
I literally sang that line out loud as I typed it and my husband called me on it. He was all, what are you singing? And I was all, was I singing something? And he was all, um, yeah.
You see? I’m so riled up about Lonny’s latest on-line issue, I didn’t even know I was singing.
But there is so much to sing about, including this amazing office.
And these stripes.
And what about the paint treatment on the ceiling over the bar?
There’s even a section on organization. So much to sing about. Buggin David a bit while doing it: bonus.
We’re not really a TV family. And by we, I mean my boys, not me. I am totally a TV person. In fact, my DVR and I are best friends. I know this because not only have we exchanged BFF necklaces where she wears one half of the gold heart charm and I wear the other, we also spend all of our free time together watching Project Runway, The Housewives of Orange County, and The Bachelor. It’s awesome.
What’s also awesome: the power the one program I allow Reichen to watch every night before bed wields over him. Have you seen The Wonder Pets on NickJr? It chronicles the adventures of three singing classroom pets: Linny the Guinea Pig, Ming-Ming Duckling and Turtle Tuck, who travel the world and use teamwork to save baby animals in distress.
I don’t know who makes this stuff up, but who ever it is, commands more control over my son than I do. No matter how many times I tell Reichen his baby brother doesn’t really like being gagged, tackled, and whipped to the floor, nothing stops my kid quicker than me threatening him with The Wonder Pets.
Me: “Don’t tackle your brother. It’s not nice.”
Reichen:“I like to tackle Latham. He likes it.”
Me:“If you tackle Latham again, you have to sit in time out.”
Reichen:“Okay, Momma. I’m going to tackle Latham and sit in time out.”
Me:“If you tackle Latham, you have to give me your cars.”
Reichen: “Okay, Momma.”
Me:“If you tackle Latham, you can’t watch The Wonder Pets tonight.”
Reichen: “I can’t watch The Wonder Pets? Okay, Momma. I won’t tackle him.”
The Wonder Pets threat works for everything: eating veggies, taking a nap, not touching toys at Target. Everything. I’m even thinking about writing a book about it as a new technique to parent toddlers. At play dates, it’ll be the talk of all the moms.
Mom #1: “My toddler is throwing tantrums every time I ask him to eat his peas.”
Mom #2: “Have you read that book about The Wonder Pets technique?”
Mom #1: “No, I haven’t. Does it really work?”
Mom #2: “It really works. You should read it.”
Yup, I think it would be a best seller. Maybe I’ll even get on Oprah. I’m totally going to write it, but first I have to watch Project Runway with my BFF. Until then, here’s Reichen singing The Wonder Pets theme song. He busted it out on us tonight. We didn’t even know he knew it.
I was so stunned when I saw it I can’t even remember what home decor magazine I was flipping through while waiting in line at the grocery store last week. In a beautifully decorated room I saw this chair:
With this logo in the credits:
No way, I thought. There’s no way KMART sells that contemporary rocking chair. There’s. No. Way. So I popped on line and I discovered not only does the discount giant sell that chair, but these modern masterpieces too.
They are all $150 and less which is such a steal. And it’s super fun and affordable way to try a modern piece in your place.
Did I tell you I am a failure as a mother signed Reichen and Latham up for a Valentine sticker exchange? I thought it would be so fun to peel stickers off my walls for my two toddlers, so when the local moms club I joined this summer offered to pair off all the kids in the group for a Valentine and sticker exchange I was all, why would I ever do that we’re so in!
I bundled up the boys and drove them to Target last week where they begged for every toy in the store searched for their Valentine selection. After yelling ‘I WANT THAT ONE!’ so loudly my eardrums are now permanently scarred a collective collaboration, the boys picked this cheap sweet box of Nemo cards.
Reichen and Latham also whined for me to buy them selected these stickers from the movie Cars to mail their friends.
Since there were two sheets of stickers in one package, I thought I’d be cheap split them. A day later, I mailed each of the boys on our exchange list one Valentine and one sheet of stickers and I admit, I was feeling frickin fabulous relieved about completing my task on time, that is, until Latham received this:
IT’S A HOMEMADE VALENTINE SONG AND FINGERPLAY BOOK!!!
WITH PAGES AND PAGES AND PAGES…
OF SONGS AND FINGERPLAYS!!! BUT THAT’S NOT ALL…
THE MOM WHO MADE IT ALSO STAMPED LATHAM’S NAME IN SESAME STREET LETTERS!!! AND…
SHE MELTED CRAYONS INTO THE SHAPE OF A HEART AND ATTATCHED IT TO THE FRONT OF THE BOOKLET!!! AND…
SHE DIDN’T EVEN SPLIT THE TWO SHEET PACKAGE OF ELMO STICKERS! SHE GAVE LATHAM BOTH SHEETS!!!
Sigh. I didn’t even know you could melt crayons into the shape of heart. I’m so going to lose my membership in the moms club for this one.
Reichen: “Latham played and I cried. I cried a lot.”
What my 3 year old said he did when I dropped him off at the gym daycare this morning. It was the first time someone other than a family member watched him and his brother while I was away. It was a little rough on both of us.
If I didn’t have to strap on sneakers every morning to chase two toddlers, I would totally be bootylicious.
And by bootylicious, I mean all I would wear all day, evey day are the amazing ankle boots that look so fun when paired with short dresses in stores this spring.
I’m seeing more and more zipper detail on everything from purses and jeans to shirts and jackets, but I think this zipper bootie from N.Y.L.A. may be my favorite.
N.Y.L.A. also makes this version of a zipper bootie. How fun is that ruffle detail?
I adore the cognac color of this Jessica Simpson bootie, but it’s the ruching detail that really makes this shoe special.
The straps are so sexy on this grey bootie. I would wear them with a really sweet floral dress.
What do you think of these shoes? Do you want to be bootylicious this season?
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