WWOD

Someone recently said three words I never thought I would hear: Who is Oprah? Gasp! There isn’t enough time in the day to discuss the life lessons I learned from Oprah. Trust your gut, don’t park near conversion vans, always holler when introducing someone, if you own a magazine make yourself the cover girl every month, etc. I saw a conversion van in a plaza parking lot tonight. The little Oprah voice in my head whispered, “Crime is about opportunity.” I parked as far away as I could. When in doubt, always assume someone is a serial killer.

I went shopping for teacher’s gifts after the kids went to bed. I am going to tell you something the kindergarten teacher is too nice to say. They don’t want crap made by your kids or anything that says #1 Teacher. Where the f*ck are they supposed to put a #1 Teacher plaque in their house? It goes with, um, nothing. Also, a picture of your child is not a gift. Plus, there is a good chance the photo isn’t as cute as you think. You get “Parent Goggles” when raising a child. Everyone thinks their offspring is adorable. If you can’t afford a gift write a nice letter thanking the teacher.

If I were a teacher I would want money or Botox. Once in awhile there will be a Groupon for Botox. I ain’t got no shame. If there was coupon for a breast lift I would clip that sh*t.

The truth is I could never be a teacher because they are saints. I don’t have the patience to deal with disobedient children and snotty noses.

Bottom line, I don’t care if you celebrate the holiday or not. I think you can spare a few bucks and get the person teaching your child to read a descent Christmas gift. If you can’t come up with your own idea just ask yourself WWOD? What would Oprah do? Then, buy something similar that costs a lot less because you don’t have Oprah’s bank account.

Just wait…

My mother used to tell me “Just wait until you have kids.” The wait is over. My daughter is already a drama queen. She is only 5-years-old. When she doesn’t get what she wants she sobs, places her hand over her heart and says, “You don’t love me.” It is a ridiculous statement. I do a million things because I love her; things I don’t necessarily enjoy. Let me list a few:

1.) Went to breakfast with Santa when I had a head cold -

My head felt like it was going to explode, but I still had breakfast with a stranger who dons a velvet coat every December. I helped her make an ornament with glitter. Glitter was created by Satan. I spent $8 for what amounted to a Holiday Inn Continental breakfast and sat in a chair built for elementary students, not a middle aged woman who eats candy before bed. I did all of this smiling even though I wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

2.) Volunteered in a classroom

Do you think I enjoy listening to students read “Kip Gets a Mit” over and over again? Kip didn’t bring her glove to a baseball game. So, she catches the ball with her hat. I’ve said it before and I will say it again, I’m calling bullsh*t on that one. She wouldn’t be allowed to play. This story is even more annoying when every word is sounded out. The kids are adorable, but I don’t have the patience to be a teacher.

3.) Watched Caillou
I hate that little f*cker.

4.) Went on a field trip to a farm

I am okay if I never see another cow milked again. I like to pretend milk comes from the grocery store. The end. It is more appetizing than watching it drip from an udder while standing feet away from cow sh*t.

5.) Went to a show on ice.
I am a grown adult. I want to go to the movie theater and see R rated movies. I want to sit in a comedy club and hear curse words. I don’t want to see Princess Elsa do a triple Salchow.

6.) Visited an amusement park

I get nauseous riding in the passenger seat of a car. Tilt-a-Whirl is my worst nightmare. I’m also terrified of riding on roller coasters being operated by unqualified toothless men or teenage girls. Nor do I want to wear a bathing suit in a wave pool with dozens of strangers who may have just urinated.

7.) Rummaged through the garbage

Remember that time I sifted through coffee grounds, spaghetti and snot covered tissues to find the toy you accidentally threw away? This wasn’t on my bucket list.

8.) Threw a birthday party

I am not crafty. There is pressure to come up with a cute theme. I need to find a location. Then, there are invitations, the cake, party favors, etc. It costs a small fortune and is a headache.

I could list a million things I do to make her happy. My joy comes from seeing her smile and hearing her laughter. She doesn’t get it, but just wait until she has children.

La,la,la,la Elmo’s World

I think someone killed Elmo to make my new purse. I received it as a gift yesterday from my 5-year-old daughter.

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The purse was purchased at the Holiday Gift Shop at school. Every year I give my children money to shop. To outsiders, a.k.a. people without children, it may seem like I am just throwing money away. I might as well burn it. There is no denying the items for sale are crap. You are blinded by the ‘Made in China’ stickers at this shop. It sells everything from rings that turn your finger green, cheap plastic toys to the ever popular #1 dad mug. We have five in the cabinet. It’s a fundraiser for the school and also teaches children about giving. Tell that to “Mary,” a girl in my sons class. Her name has been changed to protect her identity. Apparently, “Mary” decided to partake in the trend of “self gifting” and treat herself. “Mary’s” family won’t be enjoying a Kawala bear knickknack this year.

If anyone else wrapped up a Sesame Street purse I would be offended. It’s like giving someone a Chia Pet or a hot chocolate gift set from CVS. These gifts say “I don’t f*cking know you at all.” However, I love this tacky bag. I also love the ring that makes it look like I have gangrene. These gifts are invaluable. My children are beyond excited to hand out these presents. They often tell you, with their faces lit up, what the gift is while you are opening it. It makes me proud; not that they give sh*tty gifts, but that they enjoy giving. They like to make other people happy. It is a beautiful thing. I am doing something right. On the other hand, “Mary’s” mother has some work to do.

You’re a mean one…

There is a little old lady who is lucky to be alive. This is not a nursery rhyme. We met her in the grocery store. She had silver hair that sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She was wearing a white cardigan with a small Christmas wreath brooch. Grandma doesn’t follow your silly ‘no white after labor day’ fashion law. “Homey don’t play dat.”

She was enamored with my daughter and her hair bows. I am one of those crazy moms who likes to dress a little girl like a little girl. I don’t want my 5-year-old looking like Ke$ha. I refuse to buy slutty shirts and Daisy Dukes for a kindergartner even if that is what’s on the rack at most stores.

The little old lady complimented my daughter, “You look lovely.” I was beaming. This little old lady seemed much nicer than the one in the book “Good Night Moon.” Who is she anyway? A relative? A neighbor? Who let her in? There are so many unanswered questions in that book. Why aren’t they calling an exterminator to get rid of the mice? Why don’t they put the mush back into the refrigerator? Someone is going to get food poisoning. Was the balloon left over from a party or a consolation prize after a bad haircut?

My daughter said, “Thank you.” Then, the old lady asked, “Did you write a letter to Santa?” A light bulb appeared above my daughter’s head. B*tch, it is December 8th. Santa Claus will stamp that sh*t return to sender, address unknown. Santa is almost done building the toys. She may have had good intentions, but Grammy is lucky I didn’t tackle her mid-sentence.

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Of course, my daughter insisted on drafting a letter when we got home. She had everything on the list except what she told Santa she wanted a month ago. Santa bought a Frozen castle that has since sold out. She wants a different Frozen castle that is also sold out everywhere. Santa doesn’t know where the receipts are. So, my daughter will get the gift of disappointment on Christmas morning. Who knew? It turns out the Grinch wears nude pantyhose and orthopedic shoes.

Rudolph the Red Nosed Car

I drove to work behind someone who dressed their car as a reindeer. It had antlers and a red nose. I don’t even have time to wash my car let alone dress it. My first car did wear a bra. Do you remember those? It was a Dodge Daytona with a spoiler and a bra. No, I did not grow up in New Jersey. It was the 90s and it came with it. Are people who decorate their car just trying to spread holiday cheer or is it a cry for help? There is a man in my town who glues decorations to a board and attaches it to his car every holiday. What better way to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus than to superglue giant plastic eggs to the hood of your Jeep Cherokee?

I know I sound like a grinch. I’ve had a rough few days. I couldn’t zip my boots and nearly knocked myself out trying to take off a sports bra. The boots are several years old. They were snug to begin with. Designers don’t take cankles into consideration when making boots. I am a little bit thicker, let’s say more muscular, than I was when I bought this particular pair. I got it halfway up and the zipper waved a white flag. Fast forward that evening and after an intense workout I was in a similar situation. Sports bras are difficult to get on, but even harder to take off. It would even stump Fonzie.

I look nothing like the commercial of the sexy woman undressing and more like a clown in the circus. I was spinning, wiggling and twisting, but couldn’t get the damn bra above my shoulders. This is an artist rendering of the entire fiasco:

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(Yes, I lost my nose in the process and grew another finger.)

At one point I tripped and landed on my keister, unable to catch myself because one arm was stuck in the bra. I almost cut the damn thing off. I would have, but I am too cheap. The girls need support and mama needs to save her money for Christmas. The man driving the car dressed as a reindeer isn’t going to come down the chimney on December 25th.

F*ck You Pinterest

Pinterest is nothing, but a false beacon of hope. I made the mistake of searching the app for a project. I wasn’t remodeling a bathroom or refinishing a dresser. I wanted to make a Christmas ornament with my daughter and her friend. Five year old girls f*cking love crafts. I was about to be a rock star.

They also love the movie Frozen. I know, that is really unusual. I figured we could make Olaf. It is a snowman. How hard could that be? I found an ornament made out of a toilet paper roll. I can swing that. On any given day there is a toilet paper roll on a bathroom counter in my house. The other members of my family break their arms and legs every time they use the last sheet of paper. So, it’s impossible for them to carry the empty roll to the trash can and throw it away. My hope is that one day researchers find a cure for this mysterious illness.

I gathered supplies from the “junk drawer.” Everyone has that drawer of ‘sh*t you think you may need one day’ : broken watch, bread bag twist ties, pieces of ribbon, screws, Etc. I grabbed a few buttons and scraps of paper. I peeled the crusted glue off the Elmers bottle and handed it to my daughter. Then, I busted out the hot glue gun. I borrowed it last year from my mom to make a wreath. I get crafty once a year. It takes 12 months to recover from my wounds; both physical and psychological.

I cut the toilet paper roll into pieces like a boss. It was all downhill from there. I burned myself every time I picked up the glue gun. Pieces of cotton balls were stuck to my fingers and clothes. The table looked like Martha Stewart threw up. It took an hour to make two ornaments. I was sweating and frustrated, mumbling to myself. What the hell was I thinking? Instead of a happy Disney character, the final project looked like a psychotic snowman.

The girls had fun. My daughter insisted we hang it on the tree.

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#NAILEDIT

Just Dance

Do you know how to do the “Corn on the Cob?” It’s a dance. Have you been living under a rock? Actually, my 5-year-old daughter made it up during our dance party.  You march in place while pretending to eat corn on the cob. Obviously!

Sometimes you just have to let loose and shake your money maker on a circa 1987 linoleum floor. I didn’t anticipate having a drill sergeant for a dance partner. My daughter demanded, “You have  to do what I do!” She looked like a cross between Elaine from Seinfeld and Giggle Elmo. I tried to keep up with her quick changing routine. It’s difficult when you’re not a mind reader. So, I decided to do my own thing and began tweerking like any classy mother would. I am kidding. I did the Roger Rabbit. “It’s not free dance,” she scolded. I wasn’t allowed to express myself? I had to ask myself: ‘What would Kevin Bacon do?’ If he were here he would slam a cassette tape into the player and perform an angry solo dance in a warehouse.

 

Kevin Bacon wasn’t here. So, I had to follow “the man’s” orders. We ‘threw our hands in the air and waved them like we just didn’t care’ for about an hour. At one point, I stopped and just watched her. She giggled as she twirled around, her golden brown pony tail swinging from side to side. I wanted to savor the moment. ‘Remember this’ I thought to myself. I want to tell this story when she is a teenager and hates my guts. I don’t remember being her age. Hell, I forget to buy milk at the store even though it is written on a list I am holding in my hand. Will she remember we danced? She looked up at me lovingly and put her small hand in mine. Then, she chastised me for not dancing. “What are you doing? It’s not free dance!”

Impractical

I stood outside in 30 degree weather to get a photograph with a celebrity. I thought rock bottom was plucking a chin hair in a minivan. I was wrong. It’s being the 39-year-old woman waiting near the stage entrance of a local theater. How the f*ck did this happen? Well, the short answer is: I had unprotected sex 15 years ago and didn’t abort.

I surprised my teenage son and nephew with tickets to see the Impractical Jokers live show. The comic group “The Tenderloins” is a bunch of guys who met in high school.
Their relationship runs a little deeper than the guy you friended on Facebook because you had Science together in 9th grade. They were best friends who did stuff and ended up on TV. (I’m not a G*d damn biographer. If you want more information Google it.)

They have a show on Tru TV. What the hell is Tru TV? I asked the same question when my son introduced me to this series. It’s a cable channel somewhere on the dial….. if we still had dials. My kids wouldn’t have lasted a second in my Keds. I actually had to walk to the TV to change the channel or turn up the volume. They don’t know how good they have it.

“Impractical Jokers” is a hidden camera practical joke show. Don’t worry, Ashton Kutcher does not jump out of the bushes. My son is obsessed with this series. Growing up, we had “Who’s the Boss?” They watch a group of grown men play truth or dare, minus the truth option. They are not Tony Danza, but the show is pretty funny. Their live standup performance was hysterical. I actually laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes. More importantly, my son was happy and thought I was cool. Impressing a teenager is like meeting a Kardashian who is a virgin. It doesn’t happen.

By the time the show ended it was well
past my bedtime and I had to pee, but I couldn’t quit. I was so close to getting another #1 mom mug. So, I told the boys we could wait outside and try to meet the jokers. They had to leave at some point. We had them cornered. There were about ten other people waiting, too. Four days later, two of the guys (Joe Gatto and James Murray) finally came out. They made up a “dog ate my homework” excuse for why the other two (Sal Valcano and Brian Quinn) did not. “They left already.” First of all, it is “They already left.” Second, you’re a liar, but forgiven because you were kind enough to take pictures. As for the other guys, that was a d*ck move. Don’t underestimate the power of teenagers. If a single tweet by a high schooler can make Alex from Target famous, it can do damage, too. Check yo’ self before you wreck yo’ self. You’re not Elsa. There wasn’t a long line of people. It would have taken 10 minutes.

No, I don’t know what it’s like to be stalked by middle aged women and pubescent boys. However, I did have a little girl ask me for my autograph once while covering a homicide for the late news. That is uncomfortable. If you don’t want fans then go work at a gas station. Nobody is asking the guy who put $10 of unleaded into a hybrid for his John Hancock.

I exaggerated slightly. We didn’t wait four days, but it felt like it. I was standing near an older woman who was pissing her pants every time the door opened. Perhaps, literally. She wanted an autograph. What’s the point of an autograph anyway? They don’t even teach cursive in schools anymore. In a few years autographs will be studied like cave paintings.

The boys were thrilled to get photos with James Murray and Joe Gatto. They seemed like really nice guys; especially Joe. Since my teenager refuses to allow me to post his picture on the blog, I decided to snap a selfie.

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These guys are my age. What the hell am I doing wrong? I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. “You’re a good mom,” my husband said when we arrived back home. “This is a something they will never forget. They will share this memory at your funeral.” Well, I suppose I have that to look forward to.

Thanks Gwenny!

As I was putting the empty soda cans into the return machine, warm soda splattering on my jacket, I thought, “What am I going to do with all this money? I suppose I could start Christmas shopping.” Soon after, Gwenyth Paltrow comes out with her 2014 gift guide. It’s like she read my mind. Here are a few items she suggests:

Atsuya et Akiko magic wand ($44)

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I can’t wait to see my mother’s face when she opens this magic wand. Her magic wand broke a few years ago. She has been relying on good old fashioned potion. While reliable, the wand will cut the amount of time it takes to cast a spell in half. I think we can all agree that $44 is money well spent if you can turn a frog into a prince.

Tina Frey large white bucket ($370)

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I don’t know about you, but I am sick and tired of making my kids vomit in a Lowe’s painter’s pail. What are we, animals? We should be puking in style. Plus, the kids can get sick at once. This is large enough for two people to puke together. The family is going to really appreciate this gift.

Diamond Thickie vase, $12,000

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My son won’t mind skipping a year of college so I can buy a vase that only holds one flower. I have a friend who has to carry her flower everywhere because she doesn’t have a vase. She can’t play on the monkey bars, sing patty cake or walk on her hands. That is no way to live. She is going to love having two free hands again.

Bocce set by Fredericks & Mae ($320)

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Imagine my embarrassment every time I bring out my Bocce set. The balls are not hand painted. I cringe to think what the other country club members are thinking. Santa may have to bring this to yours truly. It’s worth letting the gas bill slide to buy a game that most people don’t know how to play. Who needs heat during the month of December in New York?


Mackage Lorde Kids Coat, $450

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My daughter is going to look fabulous in this coat that will fit her for a few weeks. I can use the grocery money to pay for it. Staring at this beautiful outerwear will distract us from the constant, piercing hunger pains.

Nokona X Shinola Baseball Glove, $435

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When my son feels how soft the leather is on this glove he will want to play baseball. He won’t whine to stay inside and play Minecraft. He won’t care that this will be his only present until he graduates high school. He is 7-years-old. Of course, he will have to throw the ball to himself because we won’t be able to afford the local Little League registration fee. Then again, maybe grandma can wave her magic wand and get him on a team.

Easy Health Angel Juicer ($4,739)

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I bought my first car for less than the cost of this juicer. I saved every penny to buy a Dodge Daytona. I thought I was the sh*t. Of course, it had a spoiler. My family only has to drink 94,780 more cans of soda and this juicer is sold. Hopefully, it lasts longer than the Daytona.