Lazy Baby Mama

Last week I became a true Hobokian and participated in my very first play date! I grew up in the suburbs of New Jersey where I called across the street  to see if anyone wanted to play but apparently that’s too complicated for kids today. Now that I’m in Hoboken I need to assimilate into the culture and let’s face it Ali is a bit to young to wander the streets by herself looking for friends. So I met a mother at baby yoga who was very nice. I had seen her around town a few times and eventually when I saw her for the fourth time I had the guts to ask for her email address.  I don’t have any “mom friends” in town and I figured since she was one of the only moms I’ve actually spoken to she was an excellent candidate for my first friend.

I’ve been wondering where we should go on our first play date. I wasn’t going to invite her over because that may seem too forward. Plus two 2 year olds in 800 square feet is no ones idea of fun and the park seemed too impersonal. I found a play space online that was doing a free trial so I invited her. I was so excited and nervous about our first play date and I had no idea what to wear. Do I dress nice or do I dress like a “mom?” I decided to wear my elastic waist skinny jeans. That way if everyone was dressed down I could tuck in my shirt to show off the elastic band. If everyone was dressed nice I could just keep my shirt down. I put Ali in her nice play outfit so she looked clean but not like she was trying too hard.

I arrived a bit early to the playroom so I could stake out an area for me and my new friend to sit. About 2 minutes after she was scheduled to arrive I started to get nervous that I was going to get stood up on my first play date. I tried to keep it cool in front of the other mom groups but inside I was cursing myself for not getting her phone number. What is she was lost or her son got sick and couldn’t come? While I was sitting there wondering all the reasons she wouldn’t come she and her son walked in.  At this point I wasn’t sure if I should hug, or shake hands or what? So I went with an overly enthusiastic wave. (The double arm kind ..  I know I’m embarrassing) Ali and her son got along really well and she and I had a nice time talking about backsplashes.

After the play space closed Kate invited us to grab some chicken nuggets. I told her I had plans with my mom (I didn’t want to seem over eager, plus I really had plans with my mom). We decided to meet again in two weeks. On the way out I was still unsure if we should hug so I did my weird wave thing again. This time with one hand though so it wasn’t too awkward. Still, she probably thinks I’m a wave weirdo now. Next time I see her I’ll just have to dive in for the hug … then I may be weird hug girl, which is worse than wave girl. At least I have two weeks to figure it out.

I once read an interview with Jullianne Moore where she said before she has children she was filled with insecurities. She would worry about her red hair or her freckles. Now that she has children she doesn’t have time to worry about those insecurities anymore. It’s a nice story except my worries seem to have gotten weirder with motherhood. Im not too worried about my freckles, especially when my daughter tries to take my mole off my face saying “dirty”. Before her that may have sent me crying into the other room but now I laugh. Now I sit around worrying about really strange things. I have my usual worries, like is Ali speaking the way she should? Will she grow up to be happy? Did she hit her head to many times? Unfortunately my worries are usually much weirder. Like is a car going to run onto the sidewalk while Ali and I are walking by? One day is Ali going to decide to jump off the slide rather than slide down? Is someone going to crawl into my window from the fire escape? Is the air-conditioner Dan “installed” going to fall out the window? Is the TV going to fall off the wall and crush us all? Thank god I’m too scared to see those “Final Destination” movies or else I wouldn’t leave the house. The strange thing is I don’t worry about them all day I only worry right before I fall asleep, in that weird dream state. It’s a really good way to ensure a nice restful sleep.  I wake up OK though. I think I should start doing yoga again.   Maybe life would be much easier if I sat around worrying about freckles?

fuckedthattumblr:

hipsterpieceofshit:

rich

fuck you

oh my god

i started going through the “persyn” tag

and someone said

no, wait for it

someone said

“spelling is an oppressive social construction”

somebody said that

there is someone on this planet that believes that

My work here is done.

Spelling is for loosers

I’m not easily embarrassed but that’s not to say that there aren’t a few moments I’m not too proud of. One of those happens to be Thanksgiving of 2009.

          

  I gave birth to Alison in March of that year and I hadn’t drank at all after her arrival. Thanksgiving eve is usually quite a big party night and my friends convinced me to come out with them. Dan was tired so he stayed home with Ali and I hit the town. Back in my drinking days I could handle my liquor like a pro. Even though I had an extra 40 pounds on me I decided to take it easy since it’s been over a year since my last drink. My best friend weighs about 90 pounds so I thought I’d be able to keep up with her fine. Oh was I wrong. 2 shots later I was feeling no pain. I vaguely remember high kicking someone I just met and there may have been some karate chops weaved throughout the night too. I really can’t be sure.

           

 Dan remembers me coming home and falling off the bed while I tried to take my shoes off. Everything was going fine until around 3 AM when I heard the sound of a hangover’s arch nemesis … the cries of a not sleeping baby. I stumbled in to comfort her when a wave of nausea hit me. Instead of comforting the baby I began comforting myself. While rocking her in the rocking chair I was whining, “I don’t want to throw up on my baby, I don’t want to throw up on my baby.” Thankfully she fell back asleep to my serenade and I was able to puke in the bathroom in peace.

           

 I hoped one puke was enough to get me through the next 24 hours but that was false. It was now Thanksgiving Day and I had to go to my parent’s house where my in-laws would be joining us for our first Thanksgiving as a combined family. Thankfully my parents showed mercy and let me sleep on the couch until my in-laws got there. Unfortunately that was not enough time to make the pain go away. I roused myself long enough to greet them and attempt to make them feel at home when I had to vomit again. I tried to take care of business discretely but I’m pretty sure the alcohol fumes were seeping out of my pores. The large black bags under my eyes didn’t help either. It wasn’t too long before I fell asleep sitting up on the couch again. At one point Ali fell asleep and Dan placed her with me so it looked like I was doing something.

        

    I was in too much pain to be embarrassed at the time but everyone was laughing at me because of how pathetic I was. Thankfully my in-laws found it funny too and didn’t think I was a bad mother (probably just a bad drinker).

         

   I came around just in time for dinner, which was perfect. I think we even managed to get one picture together as a family. It’s been two years but I’m sure someone will bring this story up tomorrow and I’ll rightfully get made fun of again. This story is a warning to show what can happen Thanksgiving Eve if you aren’t careful!

When I’m not cleaning Oreos out of my couch or populating the blogosphere I write freelance articles for Buzzfocus.com, an entertainment website. I usually cover TV shows likeGlee but I’ve been dying to submit a review on a feature film. Since I only work part time I’m pretty low on the totem pole when it comes to free movie tickets. Well it just so happens I was the only person on staff who was not only willing but also excited to see The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn. That’s right last Wednesday I was invited to an advanced screening and it was an experience to say the least.  When I first found out I was going I got an email stating it was at an undisclosed location where I would have to show photo ID and I wouldn’t be able to bring cell phone, PDA or any electronic device. At this point I was so excited about the movie it didn’t occur to me that this would be the perfect place to get murdered. Thankfully my next confirmation email said it was at a legitimate movie theatre and I was “plus 1”. This meant I could bring my best friend Megan with me and the chances of murder decreased. The screening started at 7 and I decided we should get there at 6:30 in order to give us cushion room in case we get lost. Well when we got to the theatre I could see “Twilight:” wasn’t on the marquee. Part of me was excited that we were really going to see a secret show and the other part was nervous I was at the wrong location. When we got to the front of the line I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say a code word or something so I just went with “2 for Twilight”. The guy said, “ Do you have your confirmation?” Thank god I had my phone with the email that only said “Kelly Sater for the 7Pm show” (I could have easily forged that). Anyway I told the man “yes” and he said “OK go around the corner you’ll see a table and there should be a line you can go ahead and hop on the end.” Uh oh, a line? My mind automatically flashed to some three-block line filled with people who’ve been camping out for days when I only show up barely 30 minutes before show. Thankfully Megan told me to get a grip and the line was only about 10 people deep. When we get to the front of the line there is a hip looking kid with a clipboard checking names, ID’s and confirmations. I told the cool guy “Kelly Sater” and was ready to flash my ID when he said there is no “Kelly Sater” on the list. I proceeded to have a mini freak out in my brain but kept it cool on the outside. He asked me where my confirmation was from and I told him “Buzzfocus.com.” His cool face lit up and said “oh you’re press?” In my head I laughed and thought “yeah right” Thankfully my right brain realized that I am press (Hear that mom I’m press!) and I blurted out “Yes, yes I am.” He escorted me to a table with no line that was manned by the coolest looking people I’ve ever seen. They had an envelope with my name on it holding our two tickets. I tried to be nonchalant but on the inside I was geeking out. We were on our way to the theatre and both of us had to pee and wanted some concessions. We decided it was best to get our seats first so we checked our cell phones and realized our tickets had numbered seats on them like a sporting event or a play. How cool is that? We had P105 and 106, which gave us a perfect view of the movie. (Only the best for the press). When the movie was over everyone ran out to get their cell phones back, thankfully I had a giant Spongebob sticker on mine to it could be easily found amongst the hundreds of iphones. It was the strangest and greatest movie experience of my life. You can check out my review here: www.buzzfocus.com I may never be able to see movies commercially again … you know, now that I’m “press.

So far raising a two year old has been easy. Well, not easy but we haven’t had any major problems. Unfortunately lately she’s developed a strange way of dealing with a problem. The other day she was grabbing something she wasn’t supposed to and when I told her “no” she tried to kiss me. This was the first time something like this happened so I thought “oh nice I get a kiss.”  Then the other day she grabbed a box of Lucky Charms and when I told her to put it down she decided to ignore me and run around the house leaving a trail of rainbow deliciousness. I was enraged. I ran over to her looked her in the eye and screamed “YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO ME!” At this point she started trying to kiss me again. I was so mad I turned away but It took everything in my body not to laugh. Who does this? She’s a diabolical genius. She knows the only thing I ever ask her for is kisses and she saves the for when she’s in real trouble. SHE”S ONLY 2 AND A HALF! I didn’t think they possessed these sort of problem solving skills. How am I supposed to discipline a girl who wants to make out every time she does something wrong? I’m so afraid she’s going to grow into a young woman who wants to kiss any guy who yells at her. This could be the start of some deep seeded issues here.

Another problem is I’m not sure how to discipline her. I’m not saying my parents beat me but when I was younger and got out of line I could expect a nice whack on the bottom. I remember when my brother and I got a little older, around 4 or 5,  we asked my parents if they could no longer use that type of discipline and they agreed. Then once we were in public we acted up and my dad told us we were going to get a beating when we got home. My brother and I started crying and yelling “you said you weren’t going to beat us anymore.” Everyone was looking at us; it was hysterical and wrong. Maybe this is where Ali gets it from? I don’t think I can administer a beating just yet so I decided an appropriate punishment was to make Ali clean up all the cereal. It took awhile and she thought it was a game. She ended up eating a solid amount of marshmallows but at least she wasn’t tyring to kiss anyone.

It’s been a few weeks since my last post. It turns out apple juice may be good for people but not Macs. Who Knew? Of course my  $250.00 warranty doesn’t cover toddler mishaps so I was S.O.L. Thankfully, my mother was kind enough to let me borrow her Sony. I’m not sure what’s worse, being without a computer or having one that’s so slow it takes 20 minutes to turn on then another 10 to open the Internet. I had almost forgotten what I wanted to write about by the time the computer came to. Even as I type it takes the screen a few seconds before it registers the letters. It’s really testing my patience, but beggars can’t be choosers.

A lot has happened since I last signed on. One notable experience was the preschool open house. Once every fall the “Hoboken Family Alliance” invites all of the schools in the city to one location where the parents can come and see what each school is all about. Its strange to think that I have to start thinking about my 2 year old’s education but if everyone here is doing it I have to join in. The event took place inside the towns high school gym. The room was set up like a job fair and was packed with young children and their yuppy parents. The first school my cheap self checked out was the public school. We were pleasantly surprised to be speaking with the head of the program.(Either she’s super involved or doesn’t have anything better to do; I’m hoping i’s the former) She explained that they should be receiving a grant that would enable all three year olds in town a spot. The program seemed great, it even included Spanish lessons. The only downfall is it would be a full-day, five day a week program. This would mean I would have to get a real job …  I’m not sure I’m ready to go down that track just yet.

Dan and I next went over to see one of the Catholic schools. I wasn’t sure how Dan would feel about a Catholic education since he is Jewish. Turns out I know more about Judaism than he does from my years in Catholic School so he was OK with it. The program was similar to the public school, the price was reasonable and the idea of her in a little school uniform is just the cutest thing I’ve ever heard of.

Things were looking up in terms of preschool when we headed over to the “Cooperative” school I had read about online. The idea is that the parents perform duties for the school in order to keep the tuition down. I went over to talk to one of the parent representatives and after she answered a few questions I asked “What’s the admission process?” She explained there was a tour, an application and then there would be an observation. “Observation of what?” I asked. She said “Well they put al the kids together and see how they work.” Is this lady serious? Are you basically telling me this is some sort of admissions test get into preschool? I said “What exactly are you looking for in this observation?” She started to get a little uncomfortable and said “Well they see if your kid is quiet or loud you know” Apparently I did not know because I think that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. This kids haven’t started school yet, they don’t know anything what are you going to test them on? The only thing I can think of is whether or not she can wipe her own ass. (Which you wouldn’t have to observe you can just take my word for it.) This school has some nerve forcing me to work, charging me pretty high tuition and then judging my daughter.

My husband and I exchanged “yeah right” glances and started to look at some other schools. Eventually one of the public school reps told us the high school had a pool and we could take our daughter to go see it in the next room. Yes sir, I would love to take my two year old into a room with an Olympic sized swimming pool that doesn’t have a fence around it. The public school lost some points on that one.

Although its still a year away we’ve made some progress on schools. There is a lot to consider but it doesn’t look like we’ll be going the “cooperative” route.

Computer failure :( mac told me it would cost a minimum of 750.00. Really Mac? You just lost your fearless leader is it the best time to be pissing off you most faithful supporters?

Yesterday I faced my fears and traveled via public transit to NYC with 2 year old in tow. When I usually go into he city by myself I walk around guns blazed, full confidence no one can get in my way. However, after I had my daughter I haven’t traveled with the same confidence. In fact, I haven’t really traveled at all so I was determined to meet my husband at work. I figured I only had to make a one-way trip alone, since he’d come with me on the way home. Our trip began on the bus. This would be simple enough since Ali and I have taken the bus a few blocks before. Well the “in town” bus driver is much different from the city bound driver. I folded up the stroller and got on but before I could pay this driver hit the road. I had no idea what to do. I wasn’t about to leave Ali alone in a seat with the bus moving so I could go pay. What was this driver thinking? Finally she stopped at a red light and I was able to pay my way. Good thing Ali was within arms reach, I was able to stretch my body to the limits to ensure I had one toe on Ali in the seat and my hands free put the money in the machine, the stroller had to fend for itself.

We made it to the port authority and now it was time to hit the dreaded subway. I strapped Ali into the stroller nice and tight. My father once told me the port authority was where kidnappers waited for kids who ran away into the city. I think this was supposed to make me fear running away, unfortunately I just fear bus stations. Of course the subway is 2 flights downstairs so I had to wander around in my personal nightmare to find an elevator, all the while making sure kidnappers aren’t following us. We found the elevator and thankfully there was another couple with a baby already riding so I didn’t have to ride alone. We made it to the subway and somehow braved the underground 3,000-degree heat. Ali was excited when our train came; I was excited for air conditioning.

We made it to our stop and I’m confronted with a fear I never knew I had: escalators. I’m not talking about a normal one-story 45-degree escalator; I’m talking about 53^rd and Lexington. It’s about 5 stories and probably rises at 85 degrees. I almost hyperventilated, but the only way out was up. I kept Ali in the stroller because I knew once I got onto the death machine I wouldn’t physically be able to move so she needed to be immobile as well. I said my prayers and rolled on. I ended up taking 5 steps in an extreme forward lunge to try to lessen the rising angle. I stared at my feet for the 5-minute ride because looking up made me dizzy and looking down made me vomit. We finally made it to the top and when we saw daylight again I was a new woman. I have conquered the NYC transit with Ali. Nothing can stop me now! (except the movie Poltergeist … don’t ask). 

I have discovered what some have been searching for their entire married life. Many have tried and failed but I, Kelly Sater have found the secret to a perfect marriage. It isn’t sex everyday or making sure dinner is on the table when he gets home from work. It’s much deeper than that. The secret is: I work every Sunday and Monday during professional football. It’s the perfect balance I get paid to watch football at a sports bar while he stays home and watches football without having to turn on HGTV during every commercial. I think the key in our marriage isn’t that we cant watch football together it’s the fact that I married someone who cant watch football with anyone.

I grew up having Sunday dinners at my grandparents where nothing but football was allowed on the TV. My grandpa was actually super cool and would hook up two TV’s in the basement to watch multiple games at once. My husband, on the other hand, is a hermit when it comes to sports. He likes to sit alone in the house completely silent as he watches a game. I think maybe he wants to make sure he can take it all in with no distractions. If the Jets ever make it to the super bowl I wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to rent a hotel room just for himself (as long as it has HD of course).

            So ladies, if your like me and you cant stand your husbands during football season just go down to your local sports bar and pick up a shift. You’ll make plenty of money for your fall wardrobe and your husband will be so happy he may get some laundry done while you’re gone. 

The hottest book of 2011 is shaping up to be “Maggie Goes on a Diet”. It’s a children’s book about a young girl named Maggie who has no friends and gets teased about her weight. She decides to go on a diet and join the soccer team to ultimately become a popular chick. The author, Pail Kramer claims the books is meant to help the children but everyone on the planet knows better.

 

My main issue with the book is that it’s about a girl. Why didn’t the author choose “Joseph Goes on a Diet” or asexual “Pat Goes on a Diet”? How can he claim it’s not aimed at young girls when he clearly picked a girl as his subject? How can a grown man think he has any idea how to relate to young girls going through this? He claims it will help girls and boys realize they can take matters into their own hands. Earth to Paul : no boy is ever going to be caught dead reading a book about a fat chick named Maggie. If he weren’t getting made fun of for his weight he’d definitely get made fun of for reading girly books. 

I’ve done some research on the author. (And by research I googled him and watched some clips from GMA … this is a blog not a masters thesis) in my studies I found Paul Kramer has made a career by self-publishing children’s books in Hawaii. So no, he isn’t a doctor or a psychologist or even a nutritionist so clearly he is the authority on children’s obesity.

I’m not one to hate on something before I have a chance to truly read it but you don’t have to be a genius to figure out telling a young girl “if you were thinner you’d have friends” isn’t a good idea. The book comes out in October and I won’t be buying it. I will definitely peruse the pages at my local Barnes and noble. Maybe it can give me a few weight loss tips. 

With all the commotion here on the east coast you may expect me to blog about Irene. But no one needs to hear the depressing story about how I stayed at my mothers for four days with no power only to return to my home and find I didn’t loose power at all. (All my alarm clocks were still set) I know, it’s sad.

Instead I think its time to discuss why I now hate the playground and all of its inhabitants. After the hurricane I decided to wander off my beaten path and check out some of the other playgrounds in the area. As we were about to walk into one playground I heard one of the kids ask another if his family had a Range Rover. I kept walking.

Ali and I ended up at a less crowded park and she ran off on the equipment. After a little while the place really started to clear out and it was just Ali and another young girl around 3. The girl was playing by herself with a little stuffed cat. When the girl tried to put the cat on the swing Ali walked over to investigate, since a cat on a swing is always a fun thing to watch. The little girl wasn’t happy with Ali circling her cat so she said “NO you can’t play”. OK the kids are establishing their sense of self and possession; I get it. Then this brat went on to tell me that her cat doesn’t like Ali. What? Excuse me? Are you trying to say your inanimate dingy cat has something against my daughter? This little girl had sunglasses attached to her had like swimming goggles, she’s lucky Ali and I are even talking to her.  It took every fiber of my being not to grab the cat rip its head right of the seams and throw it to kingdom come screaming “HE DOESN’T LIKE YOU”!! Cooler heads prevailed and through my teeth I asked “Why not?” She just ran off to play in eh corner by herself and Ali just played on the slide as usual. Please, why wouldn’t a stuffed animal like my daughter? She’s so chill and accepting, she was playing with a weirdo wearing goggles for the love of god. The next time we went to the park we saw the girl playing alone in the corner again, she tried to play with a boy on the swing and he said “No, I don’t want to play with you.” So it’s safe to say she got hers! 

I’ve come to the conclusion that some people are in desperate need of a punch in the face. The other day I was at work when a very large and in charge gentleman came into the bar to have a drink. It was very early and we had no customers so everyone began chatting with him. It turns out he used to be a bouncer at a very exclusive, hip, celebrity frequented club. He was pretty impressed with himself, but those types of places aren’t really my cup of tea. I like beer, not attitude. So he goes on to tell us about people who tried to get into his club. He said that there were rules, like a man couldn’t get in unless he had at least two females. He said one time a man gave him $1000.00 so he could get in with his date. I blurted “did you punch him in the face?” He said no, because he was trying to impress the girl. Maybe I need higher standards because I wouldn’t be impressed with that, I would be annoyed and slightly uncomfortable. And I’m sure if a girl would get impressed by something like that, you may just be able to give her the $1000.00 directly and she would sleep with you, rather than suffering through bad techno and extremely overpriced bottle “service”. My bouncer friend also said there were other rules, like he couldn’t let in ugly or fat girls. What? That’s wrong. I asked him if he felt bad doing that, he said yes but it was his job he had to do what he had to do. I’m sure there are Nazi’s who said those exact same words. I didn’t say that last part out loud, because at this point he was my customer and I had to do what I had to do. 

I don’t know what’s happening lately but everyone has been taken aback when I tell him or her how old I am. I was at work yesterday and the manager almost stumbled when I said I was only 25. I know I’m married with a child, which is a lot more responsibility than most 25 year olds take on, but I don’t think I really look that old.

Unfortunately this has been going on long before I gave birth. People have thought I was older since I was 16. Not because I ran around dressed up like a hussy, it’s probably because I’ve been dressing like a soccer mom since middle school. Seriously I had 5 or 6 warm-up suits I wore everyday.

My parents used to have to volunteer at Bingo for my brothers’ school and somehow they were able to guilt me into doing it for them. (I didn’t have a car and if I ever wanted to use their minivan I had to put in the man-hours) The other parents were confused by my presence and thought I had a kid in the school. Hello I was 16. Most of them admitted they though my fake kid would be in preschool at the most but still that’s embarrassing. At least when I was 16 it was cool to look older, that meant I wouldn’t have as much trouble getting into bars when I got into college.

It’s still happening even after I turned 21. My best friend since childhood, Megan, is the same age as me. (6 months older if we want to get technical) She has a younger sister who is the same age as my younger brother Richard. After graduating college Megan and I would help out our parents by taking our siblings to the doctor or dentist. Meg’s dentist thought her younger sister was older than her and my doctor asked if I was Richards’s mom. What? I wasn’t even wearing a warm up suit! Maybe it’s the glasses, maybe its because I’m an old soul, I don’t know but its certainly annoying.

We’re a month into this “stay at home mother” business and I think I may be starting to get the hang of it. Sure my days are ruled by a tyrannical two year-old, but it’s not all that bad. Here are some of the major changes I’ve undergone since I hung up the work pants and slipped on the apron:

·       Showering

o      Wait; with that title did I imply that I could shower? Because that’s a lie. I no longer shower. I don’t feel bad if I smell; its not because I’m a smelly person, it’s just because I couldn’t shower.  Also, it’s so hot out these days that I wear my hair up anyway, so why would I wash it? I should say it’s because I’m “green” or “trying to save money” but my water bill is included in my rent and I can’t leave that baby alone long enough to lather. 

·       Going to the Bathroom

o      Intruders beware I now go to the bathroom with the door WIDE open. How else am I supposed to keep an eye on her? Its actually really liberating, I can stretch out. Its nice to know that no one is going to walk in on you since you never closed the door in the first place. This change can get tricky though, I went to my parents house the other day and went to the bathroom, just before I was about to get it started I realized the door was open. Thankfully I closed it before anyone saw that my fly was open.

·       Business Lunch

o      Yep, no such thing as lunch. I’m lucky if I can carry around an easy mac while I chase after her. I remember I used to have a whole hour for lunch and I would complain when it was time to go back to work. Sometimes I used to take a nap during lunch; it was wonderful. Not so much anymore.   Now my lunches are spent in the kitchen eating whatever cold leftovers I can find off of Ali’s plate.

·       TV time

o      I think in some fantasy I thought when I was home with my daughter I’d have a half hour to spare to catch up on my favorite HGTV programming. I have a better shot at winning the lottery. My TV is permanently fixed on Nick Junior and my DVR is filled with SpongeBob, Dinosaur Train, Barney and of course Umi Zoomi. I’d be lucky if I was able to sneak something PG in there just for my enjoyment. I find myself getting excited when a NEW episode of a cartoon is on because I haven’t already watched it 14 times.

·       Wake up Call

o      Turns out you don’t need an alarm clock to be up by 7am, just a baby. When I was working I didn’t wake up until at least 7:30. Now with all the hustle and bustle of city living Ali is awake and shining the second she hears the some idiot cab driver blaring on his horn.

Staying home with her is stressful but so far we’ve been having fun. She does forward rolls in the grass near our house (don’t worry I check it for dog poop). I’m the thinnest I’ve ever been from chasing after her and I’m the tannest I’ve ever been from going outside everyday. Sure I wake up early, but there is nothing like going to bed Sunday night relaxed, not frantically thinking of what I have to do at work tomorrow. All I have to worry about is whether Ali wants to go to the park before or after lunch. 

Does anyone else notice that since I’ve quit my job all of my posts are about my daughter?

I apologize

Some of you may know I’ve signed up for an email group for mothers living in Hoboken. Usually it’s informative, but sometimes I get some real comedic gems, like one email I received last week. A mother was traveling to North Carolina by car and was looking for some appropriate movies to show her 2½ year old to keep her entertained. Just as I was about to type “Finding Nemo” into a response I read on to see this: “Never realized how terrifying Finding Nemo is until you see it through their eyes”

What? We’re talking about a two-year-old right? I know the mom dies at the beginning of the movie, but they don’t show it. Maybe that’s scary for a five year old, but a two year old? The whole movie is like watching a fish tank to them. Ali loves it and when we go to the aquarium she just yells NEMO! The whole time, it’s precious.

What’s wrong with people? If you’re afraid of Disney movies you’re probably not going to get far in life. I once babysat a young kid who wasn’t allowed to watch TV at all and his mother only let him watch Lord of The Rings because it was his favorite movie. His mother was quite the hippie, she would leave the air conditioning off in the summertime while I was babysitting and made me journal with him in the oppressive heat. His mother took him to go see Inconvient Truth and he came to me the next day discussing the difference between gas and electric stoves … he was six.

 I’m all about “live and let live” but we live in a social world filled with pop culture. If you can’t talk Britney Spears or sports with people you’re probably going to have no friends or social skills. All this poor kid could talk about was L.O.T.R. All his mom had to do was let him watch the marathon on TNT three times in a row and he wouldn’t be able to watch it again for a minimum of 6 months; she would know that if she watched TV.

I’m not promoting couch potato-ry (as I sit on my couch with the TV in the background as I write) but kids need to be exposed to life. If you shelter them and only let them see what you want they will end up playing alone with their replica Sword of Narsil (Even though your babysitter told him not to because he will end up cutting his arm off). So maybe Finding Nemo isn’t the worst thing that could happen to a toddler.