the biggest mistake you will never regret

for some reason Blogger's version of pacific standard time is ahead of reality so it's kind of like i'm talking to you from the FUTURE....

so. one of my brother's friends got a tubal ligation when she was 20. she was that certain she didn't want to have kids, ever. she recently spent some time with me and my kids which may have served to reaffirm the decision in her mind. still. i'm extremely curious about what kind of doctor would perform this sort of irreversible medical procedure on a 20 year old who, no offense, doesn't know shit. [i know this comes off as paternalistic and patronizing, but i'm only speaking from experience, as a person who once thought she knew all of the things, but recently discovered she does not know any of the things.... and i think this is a pretty common path to (dis)enlightenment.] anyway, that's a different issue altogether.

then, a single (or rather, serially dating) male friend of mine asked me whether i thought he would someday regret not having kids. i got to thinking about the decision whether or not to have kids in the context of this blog post/article/open letter that has been floating around online for years and keeps resurfacing. (it has been reposted eleventy billion times all over the interwebs as early as 2008 but i can't seem to find who actually wrote it.) a girlfriend of mine just posted it again. it's basically a mom and her grown daughter, and the daughter "half-jokingly" says she's taking a survey on whether she and her husband should have a baby. the mom says "it will change your life" and the daughter replies, "i know, no more sleeping in, no more spontaneous vacations..." but the mom is like, gurrrrrrl, that will be the LEAST of your concerns! just kidding :) she goes on to talk about all the ways that motherhood will change you - ways that you wouldn't have believed in a million years and ways that you won't understand until you realize that those changes have already occurred. the way it's written, the mom appears to keep the inner dialogue to herself - because, to be honest - it's not something you could ever adequately explain, even if you tried. so instead, she simply says, "you will never regret it."

and i think she's right. maybe my personal experience and sample pool are misleading, but i know a lot of people with kids. people who had "oops" babies at 18. people who had "oops" babies at 45. people who tried for years before finally having a baby (or three!) people who always wanted babies and got pregnant every time they tried. people who couldn't have babies and adopted. people who could have babies and adopted. of all of the baby-makers, baby-bakers and baby-caretakers i know, i have never met anyone who regretted having children, whether it was a well-thought-out decision or a total surprise. as i've said before, i may have momentary regrets, for a minute, an hour, or the duration of a cross country flight, but all in all, my kids (and their co-creator ;)) are, hands-down, the best parts of my world. i was never one of those girls who always dreamed of being a mommy, but when i thought about my future, there were two kid-shaped spots in it. (until i had one. then that double-wide spot shrank down to a single. but we ultimately braved baby #2 and i could not be happier or more thankful that we did.) plus, when i was in 5th grade that game MASH told me i was going to have two kids, so obviously, my fate was sealed ;)

though baby boy was a wee bit of a surprise, i'm assuming the infamous "biological clock" would have started ticking eventually. in any event, we would have started trying sooner rather than later, because we knew someday we wanted to be parents, and also because both my Ob-Gyn and my former employer had recently told me i better get on it because my eggs were rotting. anyway, the point is, if i could do it all again, i wouldn't change a thing. (well, i might change one tiny part - to wait until after (or during!) the month-long belated honeymoon trip to Costa Rica and Nicaragua - as opposed to finding out two days before we left! i'm still campaigning for a do-over. ;))

but the bottom line is, being a mom is the best thing, EVER. unfortunately, it is also the WORST thing ever. i read a quote once - "motherhood is the only way to experience heaven and hell at the same time." truer words were never spoken. it melts your heart and kicks your ever-lovin ass. anyone who says different is drunk, high, or LYING. but at the end of the day, you'll never regret it. i don't know if it's hormones or pheromones or Stockholm Syndrome or pregnancy-induced psychosis or all of the above, but once you drink that koolaid, there's just no turning back.

the question is.... what if you don't drink the koolaid? i've seen another quote (i love me some quotes) that says something along the lines of "people with kids and people without kids are always feeling sorry for the other.." but i think that's only half true. maybe child-free people don't know what they're missing, but i, for one, do know what i'm missing! lazy mornings. naps. a clean house. the luxury of deciding what i want to do today. spontaneity. rowdy sex during the daylight hours. vacations. (i'm talking about vacations, not a "family trips.") reading a book on the couch or having a cheesy movie marathon on a rainy day. peeing alone. self-indulgent sick days. deciding to have wine and popcorn for dinner (or breakfast! sub mimosas for wine, obv). sunbathing without being interrupted every 13 seconds to save one of my kids from drowning. i better stop before i go jump out my 18th floor window. oh wait. i don't have a window. phew, lol.

i saw an ad on TV recently - i think it was for expedia. they were walking up to strangers in a park and saying hey, i have this ticket to Fiji (or Australia or Japan or wherever it was), it leaves in 3 hours, wanna go? most people said no. but someone said yes (or at least, a paid actor made me believe he was "Joe 9-to-5" and he said "Hell yes!")... sigh.... that will never be me again. at least, not for the next 16 years, six months, and 5 days ;) i need at least 2 weeks' notice to schedule a happy hour. transcontinental vacation? fuhgeddaboutit. that's just not my life anymore. and while i wouldn't trade what i have for the world, i sure do miss parts of that old life! which is why, when friends ask me if i think they'll regret not having kids, i'm like, "Hell no!" now, i'm not necessarily advocating making that decision permanently at the age of 20. but if you're of "that age" and you're feeling the pressure from mom or grandma or your perfect happily married sister who's on her 4th angel baby and you're wondering whether you should have kids "before it's too late," then my answer to you is a resounding "NO!" one of my besto's has a rule = "No Shoulds." try it! it'll change your life! and of all the things in the entire universe, the decision whether or not to reproduce is probably the best possible place to employ this simple philosophy. if you want them, by all means, get busy! if not, or if you're just on the fence about it, or maybe you don't but feel like you "should," then don't do it! i think i can safely say that your life will be infused with plenty of passion, love and meaning, and hey, if for any reason you need a little kid fix, i will happily loan my tiny terrorists to you any day of the week. i also think i may have seen some for rent or sale in Tijuana. just kidding. sort of.

this same logic also applies to the "should we have a second child or just have the one and only?" decision, which, apparently, draws nearly as much BS as the decision to remain child-free. i don't really understand that at all. it's such a personal decision. i mean, i'm sorry, but, whose uterus are we talking about here?! you might as well be advising me which brand of tampons to use, for all the stake you have in the decision, only, in this case, the tampons cost at least $241,080 and are an 18+ year commitment.

seriously though. i can't even pretend to understand the stress and turmoil this societal/familial pressure causes, especially for a female of child-bearing age. i have some friends (men and women, single and couples) who have decided not to have kids. notably, nobody really gives the guys any flak. it's always the ones with the uteri that get it. you would not believe some of the shit people say! family members, and even complete strangers. it's appalling. i wish i could be there to give the speakers a violent shake and say, do you think that is helpful??? AT ALL??? but you can't let someone bully you into a decision like that. also, FYI, in case you can't tell by the rapid proliferation of wrinkles and gray hair and the mismatched flip flops and the magic marker cheek- and forehead-tattoos and the declining IQ and the eternal state of frazzle - this shit's freaking hard as f*ck. i would not recommend it if you're just looking for a new hobby. try pilates or get a gerbil instead.

or a hedgehog. omg. LOOK AT IT!

* i asked my brother to ask his friend if it was okay to write about some of our convos on the blog. he was like, "i'll ask her but i'm sure it's fine. you gotta use non-baby blog fodder where you can get it!" ha! don't be silly, brother. obviously i'll still find a way to make this about children ;)
[update: my brother just read this and informed me (out of some sense of obligation to his friend or to the maligned medical professional, i'm not sure ;)) that there was a pre-existing condition as well as psychological counsel that went into his friend's decision, she didn't just show up at a doc-in-the-box on tubes-tied-tuesday. sorry. i am not an investigative journalist ;)]
** update #2 - my "serially dating" (male) friend mentioned above just asked me "Can you get pregnant on birth control?" Me: "If you do not take it at the same time every day as directed, yes." Him: "Shit. I had unprotected sex with this girl I just started dating. But she showered afterwards so that helps, right?" ummmmmmmmm............ wait. what? it helps her SMELL BETTER. it does not WASH THE SPERM OUT OF HER VAGINA!!!!!
*** by the way, i hope no part of this post comes off as "oh people without kids just don't get it" (except this ^ guy. ya gotta love 'im, but he clearly does not get it, and by "it," i mean, basic anatomy, biology, and life). but, there are some wonderful and terrible things about parenthood that you can't know until you live through them, just as there are things i will never know again, e.g., what it is like to have expendable income, have uninterrupted conversations with grown-ups about grown-up things, get dressed without someone pointing out that my belly is "squishy," my butt "looks funny," or dumping the entire contents of my underwear drawer on the floor, and hey, maybe even use the bathroom without having to hear a play-by-play. in fact, i actually get some of my best parenting advice from people without kids. something about not being "in the shit" (literally and figuratively) gives them some useful perspective and insight. and/or the fact that they have access to 63% more brain cells than i do.


this is funny. from momlogic.com on the parents zone.
i like that it highlights my one major qualification for being a mom -
i <3 disneyland!!!

fostering your child's independence at the expense of your overpriced heath ceramics

more talk about preschool and poop. apparently my new metier.

the new preschool is all about the kids' independence, self-confidence, "emergent learning," positive discipline... blah blah blah. at orientation they had homemade play dough (and they were weirdly obsessed with the smell of it. they kept being like, "oooh, did you smell it? how good does it smell? what do you think it smells like? eh? eh?" ummmm... it smells like... play dough? for a minute i had a weird flashback to college and i thought, omigod, is there pot in the play dough?? there wasn't. i don't think. we didn't eat any. also? my hands keep writing douche not dough. is that bad that my fingers engage in rote name calling?)

anyway, they had scissors and knives out for cutting the play dough. because they "trust" that the children will "rise to the occasion." alright. good on ya. i hope your liability policy covers lefty scissor lacerations and getting shanked with a plastic shiv (shivved with a shank?) i tried to proactively manage the situation by explaining to J$ that he is in preschool because he is such a big boy and that is why at preschool, and only at preschool, he gets to play with things like scissors and knives. but that cup o' independence has already runneth over. last night he threw a holy terror of a tantrum because i told him he could not use a steak knife to spread butter. "I WAAAAANNNNIT!" "I'm sorry. You can't have it. Sharp knives are only for grown ups." "WAAAAAAAA. RAARRRRR. AAAAAAAH. *slam a door* *kick something* *throw something* I WOULD LIKE TO BE A GROWN UP! PLEEEEEEEAAAAASE!!! I SAID PLEEAAAAAASSSE!!!!!" [impressively, he usually manages to mind his manners, even amidst his psychotic breaks.] "I'm sorry. You'll have to wait 15-25 more years for that." "But they let me use  knives at 'cool..." and so it begins.

the teachers also explained that they were going to start out serving drinks in paper cups, but that soon they would work up to glass, "just like you use at home." HA! gurrrrrrl, that's just crazy talk. you obviously do not have children. the only person in our house who's allowed to use a glass-glass? is me. we do often use actual dinner plates, but there have been several (expensive) casualties (including the fancy freakin salt shaker) so i have recently been rethinking my strategy there. bring on the melamine!

in addition, the school encourages parents to let the kids "help" pack their own lunches, which is generally the opposite of helpful but can be fun or sometimes terrible depending on the day. the school director warned that they "would not engage in power struggles" over lunch, "so keep that in mind when choosing what to pack." obviously, she said, if you put cookies or goldfish along with healthy fruits and vegetables, the kid's going to eat the cookies first, and probably only the cookies. she said, "hey, if you want your kid to eat cookies and goldfish for lunch everyday, we're not going to judge you." [false.] "we're just telling you how it goes."

they also "strongly suggest" the kids pick out their own clothes and dress/undress themselves. J likes to pick out his own clothes. he also likes to decide that the outfit he picked out last night, or, thirty-seven seconds ago, is the worst decision he ever made in his entire life. dressing/undressing is another issue entirely. sometimes he insists on doing it himself, sometimes he views it as an insurmountable task. the level of difficulty may or may not have something to do with whether he's gotten enough sleep, whether he is suffering from low blood sugar, and/or whether mercury is in retrograde.

even on the best day, if i were to have J pick his own clothes and dress himself from head to toe... oh yeah, and also... eat breakfast (do you know how long it takes to choose which cereal to eat?), brush teeth (i think he has, like, twenty of them at this point... and did you know that, if given the proper incentive, a child's jaw can exert force equal to that of a crocodile?), get out of his pjs so he can get into clothes, apply sunscreen (you'd think it was agent orange the way they carry on), lug his own lunch box (SO HEAVY), walk to the car (SO FAR), get in the car (SO HIGH - but GOD SAVE THE SOUL of anyone who tries to help him), get in the car seat, face the direction in the car seat that does not guarantee a ticket and a visit from CPS, securely fasten 5-point safety harness (how long does that take? multiply infinity TIMES FIVE), drive (less than a mile now, thank you Jesus!), unbuckle (involves mind-reading re: whether or not he would like assistance this particular second), get out of the car (you'd think he was rappelling from El Capitan), and walk to preschool (farrrrr. lunchbox so heavy. arm might fall off. not to mention the fact that, meanwhile, i am hauling my overgrown baby chile, who weighs significantly more than J's lunch box.) fight over who gets to sign in (if you don't want my kid to write on the sign-in sheet then don't put it at his EYE LEVEL), pass the "health check," (still unsure re: acceptable levels/colors of snot), walk to classroom [dead man walking], hang up lunchbox (BY HIMSELF). pee (even though he decidedly DID NOT have to pee AT ALL 7 minutes ago, or maybe it was an hour ago, who knows). wash hands (total germ annihilation becomes supremely important at 8:29 a.m.) finally, finally, i think i'm going to make a clean exit but at the last minute, as per usual, i need professional assistance peeling the wailing child off my leg :( the moral of the story is, independence slows progress by a minimum of 73%.

so, yeah. that's how mornings go around here. i let the kids do things for themselves when and where i can, but if i completely handed over the reigns i'd literally have to wake them up at 3am so that we could all get to school/daycare/work on time. on the other hand, if i dress the kid the way i want to, it's a dead giveaway that i am not following proper preschool independence protocol. i suppose i could intentionally pick ridiculous and mismatched ensembles, or let him wear the same shirt every day for a week, but that really offends my particular sensibilities. instead, i just let daddy pick out his clothes, as his sartorial stylings are akin to that of a small child. nobody's the wiser ;)

another area of independence is wiping their own asses. as you may or may not know, J can't effectively wipe his own because, according to him, his butt is crooked. despite this physiological challenge, self-administered butt-hygiene is a life skill that they expect my 3 year old to master. when i asked about the logistics one of the teachers said, "we just show them how to do it themselves." i was like, "okay, well, can you maybe give me some pointers because my methods of instruction are clearly insufficient." then she and another mom (who apparently teaches kindergarten) laughed and said, "oh, yeah, it's not a squeaky clean operation or anything, there will be skid marks for another 2-3 years at least. hahaha." um, ew. as our family's chief-laundress and shit-stain supervisor, i object! not only on my own behalf but as the proxy for my poor kid who has to walk around with an itchy poopy butt all day! so sad! i guess ya gotta learn sometime, but man. welcome to "the real world," a.k.a. preschool!

when we I was pregnant with C-diggity, one of DM's mentors from work gave him his "parenting bible" - a book called "your self-confident baby." DM respects the guy a great deal and says his kids are super well behaved and totally entertain themselves and let him and his wife sleep in until 9 on the weekends and do not need a constant stream of eye contact, verbal validation, and rewards (unlike somebody else we know, *wink wink*), so i thought it would be worth a read. it had some good pointers, though, in my view, nothing totally earth-shattering. however, at the time i was reading this, J was almost a year and a half, and the book basically said if you haven't done all of this by the time the kid turns 2, you're f@#%^&. so we had 6 months to implement two years' worth of cognitive behavioral therapy. i more or less took that as "better luck next time!" i'm (mostly) kidding. i don't think J's a complete lost cause ;) (and in any event, to the extent there are any magical keys to his independence and sanity, i don't think i'm going to find them in a book.)

the thing is. i want to be a chill, free range mama. well, sort of. i want to be a free range parent whose little free range chickens clean up after their own damn selves as opposed to leaving a constant trail of detritus and destruction in their wake. and obviously i want to foster independence and self-confidence in my children. but i also don't want anyone to needlessly break a leg, lose an eye, or to have to buy a new dinner set every three months. i definitely used to be that A-hole who said, "i'm not going to let having children stop me from having nice things. i will just teach my children to respect and take good care of our nice things. it's as easy as that!" i should have heeded the warning signs, e.g., that i could not even teach my husband to respect and take care of our nice things. if nothing else, 3 years of parenthood has taught me that, for better and for worse, there is a limit on your powers as a parent in the face of kids' unerring tendency to be kids! as always, it all comes back to balance and finding what works for you. and also, not having people tell you - subtly or not-so-subtly - how to raise your children all the damn time.

that is all :)

honestly, my dog could probably get ready faster than these children.
[source: www.aliexpress.com]

"sick day"

Deep thoughts...

Being sick with kids sucks. Being sick with sick kids sucks worse. On the totem pole of sickness, moms are at the bottom. I think it goes dads/grown men, then kids, then moms. Maybe kids then dads, I don't know. But either way, people are steppin' on mama's head. Honestly I'd rather be at work because then at least I could take a 20 minute cat nap in my car or just close my door and drink tea and be quiet. Baby and I must have the same bug, but she's handling it much better than I. Sadly, this is not the "snuggle and sleep on mama all day" kind of sickness. This is the "visibly contagious germ factory, but she must have missed the memo" kind of sickness. She looks and sounds like she has TB, but she still wants to run around cataloging every object on our property ("Wha's dat?" "A tree." "No!" "A plant?" "NO!" "Uhhhh.... bush?" "NOOOOOOO! ISS A BIWDY!!!" "Actually, no, it's not a birdie." "[*Ear-piercing scream*] ISS A BIWDIE!!!! WAAAAA!!!!" "Okay, okay, it's a birdie! Made of wood. Growing out of the ground. With leaves. A deciduous birdie.") Then read every book she owns at least two times (there is a method to her madness... YOU DO NOT GET TO CHOOSE THE BOOKS). And of course, continue with her calculated campaign designed to break Big Brother's balls. She pesters him constantly, with repeated full-body tackle-hugs that veer into violent territory if unrequited. (As we like to say, she doesn't start fights, but she ends them ;))

This sibling rivalry is so interesting to me, now, as a mother. I basically contemplated my little sister's untimely demise until the day I left for college (LOVE YA, SIS!), so I totally get where Jack's coming from. Baby is ALL UP in his business at all times and definitely terrorizes him on a regular basis, and he tries really hard to be sweet at least 75% 63% 51% of the time.... but then, she's my lovinest littlest sugarlump and sometimes I just cannot abide the way he treats her. Now I know how my parents felt. Right down to him throwing blunt objects at her head. (Better than sharp ones, I suppose!)

By the way, am I going to call her Baby for the rest of her life like in Dirty Dancing?

Speaking of Dirty Dancing - remember "the old days" when "sick day" meant lounging on the couch with a Thera Flu slushee and watching "the classics", a.k.a. Dirty Dancing, Almost Famous, GI Jane, Mean Girls, Legally Blonde, Bring It On, etc? I still haven't seen Pitch Perfect, people!!! Meanwhile, the DDs (diminutive dictators) have monopolized the remote, and while I appreciate the 26 minutes of relative peace, if I have to hear the "LITTOW EIN-TINES" song one more time I might commit hara-kiri with a spork. (To the tune of TCHAI-kovsky! Actually that reminds me of a cute story - J gets so proud of himself when he pronounces something correctly - he says, "Mama!! Watch this!!!" "Okay, I'm watching." "Overture." Hahaha. Well done, son. :))

On a happier note, I have forgiven the new preschool its trespasses against cupcakes because, instead of a 40 to 60 minute round trip with a shrieking banshee in the back seat, it is two minutes from home. SO GLORIOUS.

Anyway. That's all I got. I am so brain dead. I sorta feel like I got the stuffing knocked out of me. Do you know I don't really sleep? More about that later. But it pretty much sucks. Add two solid months of back-to-back-to-back weekend events and travel, looming work deadlines, a virulent strain of the bubonic plague, and I am just barely holding it together. Do you ever get that feeling that you are juggling so many balls and you are about to drop them ALL??? That's me right now. Too many balls ;)

One of these metaphorical balls is thank you notes. I used to be a thank you card super star. Personalized photo cards in 3-5 business days. Now, we're two weeks out from J$'s birthday, and I'm still only halfway done. Tonight, I'm trying to catch up, writing thank yous in the voice of my three year old. Yes. I am "That Mom."

"Dear Auntie -

Thank you for the awesome keyboard that I for some reason insist on playing with Ziploc baggies on my hands because apparently I am Phantom of the Freaking Opera.

Love you lots!

Jackson Jay"

Another metaphorical ball is this "blog." Hopefully I don't run out of funny!

Oh yeah, also, coughing fits with a postpartum pelvic floor? Goodbye Hanky Panky! Hellloooo Depends!

nectar of the gods



Wanted: Mom Friends Who Don't Suck

two years ago, our best couple-friends-with-kids moved away. TO FRESNO. wtf. :) this was one of those rare situations where all parties actually wanted to be friends (as opposed to the husbands or wives of the actual friends being foisted upon on one-another like grumpy toddlers at a play date). even the toddlers loved each other! anyway, they abandoned us and we've never quite forgiven them :) however, Big J had his preschool orientation this morning. he was pretty lukewarm on the whole thing but i was stoked because i found out that the woman i sat next to for three hours at the INSANE 4am preschool open registration day, who was super great, is the mom of a boy in J's class. and she remembered my name! yay! i mean, i'm not saying we're going to be BFFs or anything (although, FYI, i am already planning family bbq's... does september work for you? and i am just guessing by the way your kid is dressed that your husband (and you?) surf so we're already on the right track.) I AM KIDDING! but! i just feel like this might be a great opportunity to meet new people that live nearby and have children and aren't terrible to be around. and i am excited about that! let's hope this woman is not one of the 4 readers of this blog that i do not personally know otherwise she is probably going to be like, okay psycho stalker, i have notified the local law enforcement, please keep your distance. but anyway. all of this reminded me of the "wanted" ad i wrote 2 years ago. it basically still applies except now i have two wacky little pork chops running around which means any new friends must be able to withstand double the crazy.

WANTED: MOM FRIENDS WHO DON'T SUCK

(yes, i am aware that suckage is a subjective concept. my personal parameters are described in greater detail, below.)

looking for a new friend and neighbor in My Town, California. must be a mom, or a rare breed of woman who does not have her own children, but can hang out for an extended period of time with someone whose life is ruled by (two!) diminutive dictators, and not want to pluck out her own eyes. does any of this describe you?

* you like to drink. particularly during the day. (but hardly ever get to anymore because then all you want is a nap and MAMAS DON'T GET NAPS which is basically one of the greatest injustices in the universe.)
* you don’t cry when the kids get shots or have birthdays. (kindergarten graduation- maybe :))
* you may or may not use impending shots, birthdays, and santa claus as bargaining tools.
* you swore on your first-born child you would never EVER be “one of those people” who talks about baby poop. then, upon the arrival of said child, you engaged in detailed discussions of all bodily emissions, complete with photographic evidence.
* you swore you would never ever do a whole lotta things, and then, you did. [speaking of, have you read this from pregnantchicken.com on rantsfrommommyland.com? am i a blogomercial right now or what? anyway. hilarious. and there's more. here, and here, and here. i'm lol'ing.]
* you do in fact like to discuss issues other than children (and poop)… from time to time :)

* but, you understand that, at least when the kids are around (which is quite often), "conversation" is very loosely defined, and usually does not include many coherent thoughts or complete sentences.
* you spent at least a small (or large!) portion of the first six months of your child’s life wondering what in the hell you’d gotten yourself into. then you figured out it gets better. and then worse. and then better. and so on and so forth.
* you won't judge me for my epidurals, my stash of FD&C-enhanced gold fish and fruit snacks, or the state of my laundry hamper.
* you’re not a breast-is-best nazi (more power to you if it works for you. but guess what? turns out these babies are just for show! don't worry about those 8 IQ points, my kids have got 'em to spare ;))
* on that note, you would never seriously refer to your child as “gifted” (at least, not in public :))
* you think a 2-year-old birthday party sounds like some special version of hell. (now that i'm a toddler birthday "survivor," i will say, it's not actually as bad as i thought. okay i'm lying it's still pretty terrible. but maybe it's like, in the upper echelons of hell. not the ninth rung or anything. as long as there's beer. and cupcakes.** but if you are my friend and you do not have children of your own, please know, i am inviting you because i don't want you to feel left out, but you do not need to provide any sort of excuse along with your regrets to the party. just a simple "are you insane?" will do :) ps the answer is yes.)
* you would rather shave off an eyebrow than drive a minivan or a double-wide stroller*** (but understand that you may very well eat your words one day. okay, no. no, no, no. just not the minivan. please, god, no.)
* you don’t suck.
* you jump at the opportunity for a baby-free date night.
* you like going to work (well, sometimes :))
* you like beach days, picnics, hikes, and you’re not too old for sleepovers.

* you will tell me if i have snot of unknown origin on my shirt, "(not really) washable (at all)" marker on my cheek, or a calcified gummy bear stuck to my ass.
* you live within stroller distance of my house.
* you rely heavily on the five- (or ten-… or thirty-) second rule.
* you allow the occasional – gasp – inorganic, non-locally-grown and/or FD&C-red-#4-colored food-item to touch your child’s lips. you know... goldfish, dog kibble, what-have-you (just kidding, we would never feed our dog that sh!t ;))
* you enjoy a good burrito and do not treat gluten as the newest domestic terrorist threat.
* and don’t forget the parts about day drinking and not sucking! :)

** unless we are celebrating at the new cupcake-nazi preschool in which case there will be neither beer nor cupcakes, just "special sugar-free treats" which is an oxymoron in my book. still bitter about this. can you tell? my cousin just told me that she toured a preschool that suggested they bring "birthday napkins" in lieu of sweet treats. ha! ps the way my kid goes through napkins, cupcakes would definitely be cheaper.
*** remind me to tell you the story about "the worst stroller EVER."

bonus points if:

* you have a minor anxiety attack when a group of “stroller stride” mommies passes you by in the park, and you’d rather get a root canal than go to “gymboree” class, but you really can’t judge, because people who willingly attended “mommy and me” swim class shouldn’t throw stones.
* your partner believes your infant/toddler is showing signs of a promising career in professional sports.
* you have a rad husband/boyfriend/lesbian lover who will want to go see really terrible sci-fi/shoot-em-up movies and go paint balling with my husband so that i don’t have to.
* your fashion sense tends more towards target and tj maxx than nordstrom’s and neiman’s.
* you love cheese, bread, tequila, and champagne, and believe mayonnaise and ranch constitute their own food group.
* you got an epidural, and have no regrets! (Or you didn't, and you had your baby on your living room floor like someone I know from college. In which case, you are probably too bad ass to be my friend ;))

accepting applications now!

by the way. i was at the store yesterday and saw a mother we'd seen at the open house and i smiled hello. she had her kids with her. i didn't. one asked, "who's that mom?" (it definitely was not, "who's that, Mom?") they knew. just by looking at me. i've been branded for life. AND IT MADE ME SMILE. top off my koolaid, y'all ;) 



except for the moral fibre, principles, patient and sedate parts

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things NOT to say in an interview

today is our nanny's last day. i have major anxiety about it. it's like a really awkward/terrible break up where the guy is super great and you love him, but you're not IN love - complete with him giving back a bunch of your crap in a box and returning your house key. eef. i am NOT looking forward to going home today. i really don't do well with crying. there have already been lots of "meaningful talks" and "getting choked up." and i'm pretty sure she loves J more than her own grandchildren (C too, but she's been with J since he was 6 months old and now he's 3 (three?!) so they've got more history) so it is not going to be pretty. she really is wonderful and our kids have benefitted immensely in her care. we will all be going through withdrawals, Jack especially. she's like a surrogate mom/grandma, preschool teacher, and also housekeeper, which is worth eleventy billion bonus points. most importantly, i trust her implicitly with the children, which is rare and priceless. of course, her services are rather pricey, so we won't miss that part! she's also left us totally stranded without childcare on multiple occasions, the effects of which contributed to me getting passed up for a promotion at work, but daycare and preschool are equally at fault, as are DM and I - who decided to have two children and who want to be there for at least a portion of their upbringing (and/or cannot afford around-the-clock child care :))

the other night she texted me and said she had gone on an interview with some strange family that lived in a tiny apartment-slash-zoo and that we we going to be impossible to replace (and obviously there's some stiff competition ;)) i wrote back "awww. that's nice. well, if you start missing us too much, just take comfort in thoughts of our messy house, dirty kitchen, living through two remodel projects, and that time you outsourced all of our laundry for three weeks." i was trying to be nice and i figured she'd write back something like, "oh you guys aren't that messy!" but instead she wrote, "You are worth all that!" lol. sigh. this is what we've become.

anyway. this got me thinking about the original, stressful search for nannies and babysitters and backups and replacements and daycares, etc. i have interviewed a LOT of child care providers over the past 3 years... and have come up with a list of things you do not want to say during your interview, particularly when the position involves caring for children:

"eventually you're going to accidentally slam the kid's head into a wall so it's best not to stress out about it too much." [this lady had dubbed herself an "infant expert" but was more like harvey karp on crack. i stayed home the first day to test the waters and i walked in on her shushing J at jet-engine decibels and nearly "jiggling" his head off. the poor kid looked like he had PTSD. needless to say she didn't last the day.]

"i have a lot of experience [though no children of my own] so i am not afraid to tell parents what they're doing wrong." don't call us, we'll call you.

why did you leave your last employer? "she was a total control freak." "the kids were nightmares." "all they ate were chicken nuggets and ketchup." um, yeah, this isn't going to work out.

"you really should make your own ranch dressing. that storebought stuff is terrible." b*tch, my kid is eating a carrot. leave it alone.

"i'm sure if you really wanted to breastfeed, you could do it." F. U.

"i don't like dogs." so you're saying you're a sociopath...? (just kidding. sort of ;))

"you can just call me Anna Banana." yeahhh, no.

"you seem to be a much better mother than my daughter-in-law." oh lord. poor girl.

"you hard-working, beer-drinking american women - i feel sorry for your husbands." that's nice, but i feel more sorry for myself.

"american girls don't understand, he must be treated like persian prince that he is. he will not lift a finger." trust me, the last thing this kid needs is further evidence that the entire world revolves around him.

"i usually work for 'trophy wives' who just sit around and watch me take care of their kids." sadly (for me), that is not the experience provided here.

"i don't like it when the parents are around while i'm trying to take care of their kids." okay, i admit, it is super awkward, but it happens sometimes, and the fact that you're making this disclaimer 60 seconds in makes me suspicious. also your sketchy wrist tattoos and mysteriously unreachable references.

"i don't feel like i should be expected to cook for or clean up after your child. i'm here to play and have fun!" well i don't feel like i should be expected to do that either but dems da breaks, sugar!

when she asked about my "parenting style," i mentioned my "go to" parenting book that explains my approach to naps, schedules, etc, and she replied "oh... i don't really read books." when i looked at her like, ????? she added, "i mean, like, grown-up ones." ummmm.... yeeeah.

"we will teach your children in the montessori style, which includes learning to sweep, fold, and put things away." actually, i'm kind of liking the sound of this...

"all of the children sleep from 1pm to 4pm [on tiny mats] in the same room." me: do they actually sleep? him: oh yes. the entire time. me: what drugs are you feeding them... and where can i get some???

why do you want to be a nanny? "well, i'm really an actress, i'm just trying to make some extra money until i get my big break." "i couldn't hack it in nursing school." "i couldn't get a 'real' job out of college." yeah, no.

"i'm 18, from Brazil, and missed my calling as a victoria's secret model." yeah, sorry, the position's been filled. this reminded my girlfriend of a funny, related story - she went on a babysitting job and when she walked in the woman said "the last nanny I interviewed was a tall gorgeous Brazilian girl and coming on the heels of that Jude Law scandal I was so glad to open the door and see you." thanks a lot! ha!

and last, but certainly not least - "oh, thank you, i just love balls on my face!" we actually love this lady - she still sits for us - and in her defense, J was putting (rubber, bouncy) balls on her face, and DM and I have the sense of humor of a 16 year old boy.

>>>>

okay, re: non-child-care positions.... all i really know is... the "interests" section in your resume? this is a big conspiracy between the career development office of your college/grad school and the employers of america, so that everyone can LAUGH AT YOU.

for example. the first time i sent my resume in to my current employer, i had in the interests section "beaches [like, the actual thing, not the bette midler movie], hot yoga, and cheese." this was listed right after i mentioned that i know "conversational spanish" (code for "i worked in a mexican restaurant for a long time so i know how to place very specific food orders and curse your mother in 17 different ways,") and that i had lived in both the Virgin Islands and Puerto Rico. taken together, i thought it made me sound worldy, casual, fit, and fun. turns out the interviewer initially rejected my resume out of hand because she said the juxtaposition of "hot yoga and cheese" conjured up images of a bad yeast infection. she still sometimes refers to me as "hot yoga", which i guess is better than some of the alternatives.

some other winners:

turtle rescue, butter tasting, amateur mixologist, three card monte, dusting, extreme housekeeping, auditioning for reality shows, creating iTunes playlists, charcoal grilling, entrepreneurialism, writing (working on a screenplay), viewing the Bodies exhibit at the Natural History Museum, walking around Old Town Sacramento, racquetball (nationally ranked junior player), and Rachael Ray. oh, and of course, Cross Fit and the Paleo Diet. eeee'rybody loves the Cross Fit and the Paleo.

also. once, during an interview, my (former) employer said this: "you minored in critical gender studies? what is that? some lesbian shit?" AND I STILL TOOK THE JOB.

the end.