February, 2011

My entire life, I have dreamt about going to the Oscars. Not just going to the Oscars, but being in the Oscars… that is, RECEIVING an Oscar. As a little girl, and then a young adult studying theater at NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, my dream was to win an award for Best Actress. Now, it’s for Best Adapted Screenplay, Original Screenplay or Sound Editing. I’ll take anything really. The point is, I really want an Oscar. Just seems so magical. And I’ve been practicing my speech (again, it’s always with a British accent for some reason) since I was 4. Well, after watching an entire evening of Anne Hathaway’s ...Read More
There’s a sudden piercing in my shoulder, like my clavicle is snapping, which convinces me I’m having some sort of heart attack… The nurse tells me not to worry, that it’s just gas. Gas in my shoulder? That is some bad, bad gas.” – Teresa Strasser, Exploiting My Baby Ahh, gas. Bad gas. One of the many things no one warns you about. I mean, we all know the stereotype– pregnant women, hunched over a carton of ice cream and pickles, simultaneously popping Tums to curb the heartburn they’re bringing on… The thing is, NO ONE tells you how bad the heart burn is. No one, tells you it’s going ...Read More
In one of my many Wacky’s classes, we were told that telling a child how “good” they were or how amazing everything was that they did would actually be damaging. “Don’t label your child,” Wacky would say. Instead of them doing a “good job” when they built a tower of blocks, you should praise them for their efforts… their concentration… their architectural ingenuity. Blah blah blah. Here’s the thing, to some degree, Wackidoo has a point. If you’re constantly telling a child that they’re good, when they do something not so good, they will feel bad. And apparently, there’s something wrong about a child considering themselves to be “bad.” (like they ...Read More
Last weekend, a friend of mine told me that as a parting gift at a child’s birthday party, her 2 year-old son was given a goldfish. I had 3 responses, consecutively: #1) Are you fucking serious?! #2) Wow. That’s cool. #3) Did they give you a bowl? No… she said. They did not. No bowl. They just handed her a fish IN A BAG, and said thanks for coming. That was it. I tried to spin it in my mind… Perhaps that was a clever and cool alternative to Silly Bandz, candy, or some chatchke from Oriental Trading Company (seriously, spare me the junk people). But I never was really able to decide how ...Read More
Growing up, I was very lucky to have parents that knew about cool places in and around LA to take children. My weekends were spent taking drives to places like Santa’s Village or San Juan Capistrano or eating at dive taco stands that everyone in LA would/should know about like Titos tacos…. Anyway, now with a child of my own, I’m equally eager to explore LA and it’s surroundings with my little guy in tow. (Check out my interview with Red Tricycle about some of my favorite things to do). Of course, I must admit, big elaborate day trips and activities are not always easy to orchestrate week after week. Plus, even ...Read More
Genetics. Sometimes it works in your favor. Sometimes it does not. My legs: A positive result of strong genes and good gams on both sides. My nose: A fluke. My boobs: Well. My boobs…. When I started this blog, (and it had a different name), I shared the story about how at an early age, I saw my Great Grandmother getting dressed and putting on a bra (a “brassiere” she called it) over some sort of medieval looking Spanx getup (It was the late 70’s… which meant her undergarments were from the late ’50’s). Long story short, I remember watching her with wonderment– How is it possible for boobs to fall ...Read More
As someone dedicated to hypochondria and overall “shpilkes,” I’m pretty hardcore when it comes to popping pills. That is, I DON’T like to take medicine of any kind unless I have to. I have this irrational fear about mixing medication with just about anything: wine, coffee, Pink Berry… No joke, I have called a doctor before to ask if it was okay to take Advil with Diet Coke. (What if just one time, my body couldn’t handle the ibuprofen, caffeine and NutraSweet combination, and POOF, I die?! This is a valid concern!) I think one of the scariest things about being a single mom is feeling like you ...Read More
It’s official: As long as my 38″ partner in crime is in tow, I will never be able to “zip” in and out of anything or anywhere. Ever. Again. With a 3 year old, there is nothing quick, fast, seamless, or easy about getting anything of importance done really. Everything requires patience, precision, and a go with the flow mentality. As a former master of errands, multi-tasking, and to-do list crossing, this hurts me greatly. However, I have learned that adding 20 minutes (and a bag of peanut butter pretzels) of THIS…. … to do what would have/ should have taken me 20 seconds to buy THIS…. … is priceless.
A couple months ago, I was approached by Stacie of One Hungry Mama to take on a recipe swap. After making Stacie’s spiced up latkes and confessing that just weeks prior, I nearly burnt my kitchen down thanks to an inability to toast bread, I started to feel like I needed to spend more time in the kitchen. After all, cooking is therapeutic and I of course want to make dishes that my son loves because it’s something only his mom can make. (I’ve come to terms that my meatloaf or spaghetti sauce won’t win awards). The point is, I want to cook more. Expose Jonah to more fruits and veggies ...Read More