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Tag Archives: mommy


Reward Zone

 Fruit Salad

Pasta Salad

Muffins, breads or coffee cake

veggies & dip

Trail Mix

Candy  (or bags of candy – like M&M’s)

Tray of Sandwiches and/or Wraps

cookies and/or Brownies

Cheese and Crackers

So, I know that you are thinking the above list must be a menu for a bridal shower brunch for 100 women or something along those lines.  If so, you would be incorrect.   It is actually a list of requested foods sent by the PTO at my son’s school for the teachers during conference week.  Apparently, if these teachers have to speak to adults instead of children and stay at work until 5 or 6 instead of 3:30 in the afternoon, then they need an assortment of baked goods and sandwiches to make it through.  It is apparently the parents’ responsiblity to make sure that the teachers have the sustenance to survive the extra two hours of work.  These are apparently the most famished individuals who could ever meet. 

That was last week.

This week’s donation is just as annoying.  A student teacher has been helping out in my son’s kindergarten class for 12 weeks and is completing her required hours this week.  So of course, I get an email requesting that all 22 kids bring in $5 to be applied towards a gift card thanking the student teacher.

Ok, I understand that this person worked for free with my child and that’s very nice, but its called an UNPAID INTERNSHIP.  Something WE ALL have done, if we had any plans of having a career.  Why is it that when people make the smallest accomplishment do they need to be rewarded with a box of doughnuts or a gift card to Bed Bath and Beyond?

What about the custodian at the school? After that guy cleans up his 12th puddle of barf during flu season do we give him anything?  What about the bus drivers? After 12 weeks of driving around screaming children should we greet them at the bus stop with chocolates and a bottle of wine?

Don’t get me wrong, I love teachers. I value what they do and I personally could never do it myself.  I am just very unaccustomed to this reward system. 

Growing up, my father owned a factory and worked morning, noon and night.  I’m pretty sure when he landed a new account or created a new product, nobody ever gave him a balloon or a gift card to the Cheesecake Factory.  When it’s a snowy or rainy day, postal workers don’t come back to the post office to find hot chocolate and a Snuggi waiting for them. 

Where does it end?? Can everyone give me some input on this….because maybe I’m just crazy.  (And no you will not be getting any baked goods for your comments.)


Safety First

Recently, my father had to bring my kids somewhere and I had to make arrangements to get him my extra car seat and booster seat.

“Well, I’ll just put Sam in the car seat and put a seat belt on Michael.” my Dad said.

“No Dad you can’t do that! I think you will like get arrested or something!”

” Uh, he’s as tall as me, it’s fine,” he responded, annoyed with my overly-safe child-rearing. This is a common theme of conversations between my parents and I. I heed advice from various authorities such as my pediatrician, the DMV and the Surgeon General, and my parents basically tell me I’m a loser. This began pretty much as my first one was born and the Dr. told me not to bathe him until his umbilical cord fell off.

“Well, this baby is filthy,” my Mother would say with disgust.

Her best friend also put in her two cents, “Oh yeah, we would bring our babies home from the hospital and put them right in the kitchen sink….And we didn’t use organic baby wash either, we used whatever was by the sink, even if it was Cascade.”

“And I think you and your brother turned out ok,” my Mother would close all of these types of conversations with this.

And we are fine to a certain extent, but thinking back to our days of rolling around in the backseat minus even a seatbelt, in a cloud of cigarette smoke, it does seem a bit unsafe. That being said, we definitely have made some much-needed safety improvements, but a little throwing caution to the wind would probably help our
anxiety levels a bit too.

I called a neighbor that has a son in 3rd grade to confirm that I was right about the booster seat law.

“Oh yeah, we just took him out of the booster last month, I think the guideline is 70 lbs. And 4’9.”

Ok if this is true, basically what that means is that my college roommate, my great grandmother and Kelly Ripa should all be buckled into booster seats when in a moving vehicle.


Melted snow=Easy access

So the downside to the melted snow is that my neighbors will be outside with easy access to me and my kids. This is not good. Last summer, I got a phone call from a neighborhood mother who has a preschooler, like me. Our kids have played together minimally, mostly because A – I don’t really care for this woman and B – her kid is completely out to lunch. Also, as a side note, she recently moved here from New Jersey and essentially talks like Fran Drescher from ” The Nanny.”

“Hi, I just wanted to call and tell you we mailed out some invitations, Jacob wants to put on a show in the driveway and we invited some friends to watch it.” she says when I answer the phone.

“Ok..let me just check my schedule,” I cut the conversation short and told her I would call her back. Let me also mention that we avoid playdates with these people because the house is beyond filthy and the yard is filled with piles of dog shit at all times. The invitation for ” Jacob’s Show” comes the next day and is slated for a day I had planned to meet a friend at a park with our kids.

” So now I have to cut my day short and run back here!” I complained to my husband. ” Then don’t go,” he replied.
“Well nobody they invited is going to drive here for this! We are the
only ones in walking distance, and this poor kid is going to be like in the driveway with a top hat on, waiting for someone to show up!”

So of course the day comes and it’s a hot, gorgeous day at the park. Annoyed, I rush home to make it for the 3:00 showtime. I peer through the blinds and see no sign of life; no chairs in the driveway, no props, no stage. I don’t think this kid is winning any awards for set production anytime soon. At 3:35 we head over. We stand at the foot of the driveway, staring at the house waiting for them to come out.

“If they don’t come out soon, we are leaving. I’m not standing here all day,” I said to my 3 and 4 year old.

“No! Let’s knock on the door! We want to see the show!” they shouted and started to run on the grass towards the door.

“Get over here,” I said between gritted teeth, ” Don’t go on the
grass or near the house.” Just then they come out with another little boy from preschool, and Jacob’s little brother and the mother. All the kids immediately start running around the yard.

“Is anyone else coming?” I ask, carefully navigating the yard in order to avoid dog poop. “Oh no, Andrew’s mom just dropped him off and nobody else could come.”

Of course.

After about ten minutes of idle chit-chat I ask, ” So, when does the show start?”

The mom laughs like “the nanny” and calls out to her son, ” Jake, Michael’s mommy wants to know when the show is starting!”

He stops playing and we are all staring at him. “Oh well, there’s no show……it’s really just a play-date.”

I thought my head would explode. This brat tricked us into coming over for a play-date?”. Arms crossed I walk over to him and say in my fake “nice mommy” voice, ” Mikey and Sammy were excited for a show, so you are going to have to go ahead and put on a show.” He just stared at me and ran away.

So now I’m stuck in this poop-infested yard with Fran Drescher. Great. I look over and notice that the kids are now playing in a sandbox that has no sand, just filthy water in it.

“Get away from there!” I scream like a maniac.

“Whaaaatt? That’s just our pool….” Fran Drescher says with her thick accent.

My fake mommy voice is long gone.

“No….it’s not a pool….it’s a sandbox filled with still water and Legionnaire’s disease.” I said with disgust. “Ok, you guys, let’s get going.”

” Oh no, you can’t leave before the cake! Jacob and I watch the “Cake Boss” and he wanted to design a cake all by himself, wait till you see it!”


It’s not enough that my kids now have West Nile Virus from the “pool” and all of our shoes are filled with dog shit, now we have to eat filthy baked goods?

Out she comes with this lumpy cake that has been squirted with basically an entire can of Redi-whip and jabbed with 25 twix cookie bars. The kids eat a a couple bites and we leave.

As soon as we get home I soak their entire bodies with hand sanitizer and I keep saying ” I cannot believe there was no show.” The kids agreed that it was totally unacceptable. I was so glad that my kids, even though they were 3 and 4, got the fact that these people were ridiculous.

The next day, I’m driving down the street and the mom flags down my car. I considered flooring it, but gave in and as I started to slow down, my 3 year old said, ‘What does this fucking guy want now?”

My sentiments exactly. We are working on the swearing, but I couldn’t have said it better myself.

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