I'll Never Buy Wine at Trader's Again... My Fault, NOT Theirs

Ah, a topic everyone can relate to - wine. I'm drunk as we speak! Kidding. I mean, I'm drinking, but I won't get drunk for a while. Actually, I've felt drunk all week even though I've only been drunk part of the week. Anyway, Bink was at preschool and of course I did what any red-blooded American would do - went straight to Trader Joe's for peanut butter crackers and wine.

I had Baby Boy in the big part of the carriage in his car seat, so that pretty severely limited the space I had to put my impending purchases (you know where this is going, don't you?). I made do, buying the crackers I needed and the 49580 things I didn't, but cannot pass up because it's Trader Joe's, where holding back is impossible, and then made my way to the wine section.

I have been buying slightly nicer wine since Baby Boy was born since I get up with him and if I drink junky wine, I get a hangover really easily, and I have found one that I looooooooove and want to marry and have ten thousand of its babies. It's called The Stump Jump and it is so good. It's a shiraz, and if you want something that costs like ten bucks and is awesome, I highly recommend it. But I always like to try new things, so I went around, picking out a few bottles that I haven't tried yet, and then went over to The Stump Jump.

And all of the wine and hummus and cheese and crackers and everything else I picked up fell out of the cart and smashed into a bajillion pieces.

BAJILLION.

And it was so loud and there was glass EVERYWHERE and red wine and hummus all over the place (the hummus containers totally busted open and it was disgusting) and it legit looked like a crime scene. And while I do fancy myself a bit of a Rizzoli or Isles, I was moooooortified.

And then the swarm came in.

The swarm of super nice TJ employees who told me not to worry about it, to keep shopping and they would go get me replacements of all of the things that I broke, to stay with the baby (who was still sleeping, thank goodness, if he had started crying I think I would have lost it) and not to worry, it happens all the time and nobody cares.

So of course I did what anyone else would do. I hid. And my face was burning hot and my cart was, like, empty, and I didn't know what to do. And then the super nice TJ's employee who was tasked with replacing my broken items FOUND me and was like "oh, there you are! Here are your millions of random grocery items!" He was SO nice and I was then of course even more embarrassed because I was, like, crouched in a corner when he approached me.

I thanked him, probably cried a little because I'm a baby, and ran to the register.

And could not get my Stump Jump because CSU was still processing the scene RIGHT in front of that part of the display. So I got some other stuff, but it's not the same. And I can never show my face at Trader's again until the next time I go.

Moral of the story: Trader Joe's is fabulous. I am a moron. And peanut butter crackers are awesome.

Officially Out of Ideas

He was up at 3:00, screaming. I got him at 4:45. He didn't want to eat, he wasn't wet, he just wanted to hug. And while I appreciated the sentiment, I'd prefer this outpouring of love at, say, 8:00 a.m.

So I did the only thing I could think of.

I dressed him like a fancy lad.

I think I'm losing it. Just a bit.

All Right, Stop What You're Doin, Cause I'm About to Ruin... My Kid. Crap.

Did you know that Humpty Hump/Shock G is like a REALLY accomplished musician and producer? I did not. Do you think he's wearing the nose? Right now?

Anyway, I broke my kid. Here's the deal. Baby Boy was "sleeping" through the night - going to bed perfectly, sleeping, yelling but I wasn't getting him, but then getting up at 4:50. I don't know what it is, but if he had slept 20 more minutes, even 15, I would be okay. Getting up before 5 is BRUTAL. It destroys your soul. Studies have shown it. Well, the study I have conducted on myself in my house over the past 2 weeks, anyway. So last night, he started SCREAMING at 2:55. I broke down and gave him a bottle, which I had stopped doing, gave him a bottle, he sucked it down, fell asleep, and proceeded to scream until 5:13 when I finally got out of bed and got him.

It may be teeth, who knows, but I am TOAST. I probably shouldn't have gotten him, but I couldn't listen to the yelling anymore and I thought he'd go back until, like, 7:00, which is what he used to do.

So I'm calling in the Think Tank. Yes, you. What do you think? How would you proceed tonight?

Things I'm Too Old for Thursday

Most of the time, like I'm sure most of you do, I forget that I'm not 23 - I feel like that is the age you can sort of get away with being immature and a doof with minimal consequence. Anyway, I'm constantly admonishing myself for wanting and liking things I'm way too old for, or giving myself the business for not liking things anymore because I think I'm too old and I shouldn't be.  Here's this week's list:

Cheez Whiz. This was a true heartbreaker. A couple of months ago I had the house to myself for five minutes, so I did what any normal American would do: I went straight to the grocery store and bought a bag of frozen french fries and a jar of Cheez Whiz. And I made cheez fries. And I took one bite. And I gagged and shuddered and spit it out. Guys. I don't know what we were thinking. Cheez Whiz is literally the most disgusting thing in the world since block cream cheese. This may not seem as big of a deal to you, but believe me, I existed on cheeze goo and French fries for the better part of my life, so hating it now is wrong on so many levels. You know what else you remember is delicious but is actually totally disgusting? Space Ice Cream. Trust. It's like a bag of old dusty dentures. Except grosser.

Full House reruns. Am I too old for this? I think "no" but whenever I am watching it my husband comes in and gives me a weird face and then walks out. Maybe it's because it's hilarious and as such, I laugh aloud often, but I'm telling you, it's WAY funnier than you remember. Try it, you'll like it. Or in the immortal words of Uncle Jesse "Haaaaaave merrrrrcaaaaaaaay!"

(You are totally laughing to yourself right now. Busted!)

Cosmopolitan Magazine. I am WAY too old to read Cosmo anymore. I get a subscription (free, don't ask) but last month, I didn't even know who the girl on the cover was! She was, like, some 20-year-old and I didn't even open it, I just threw it out because it was time to give it up. I have no use for Cosmo anymore and while it makes me sad in theory, I never reeeeeallly loved it anyway (I despise that they end the magazine with the Cosmo quiz, it is boring and dumb) so I'm not totally torn up about it.

Aside: I am obsessed with Redbook. I don't care. I love it the MOST and want to be the editor and be friends with all the girls they put on the covers. Maybe they'd let me talk about sweatpants? I actually opened it and was like "when did they get so hip?" Or am I just getting old? Anyway, Redbook rules.

Wifebeaters as shirts. And probably cutoffs. Just give it up, woman. Just give it up.

What are you way too old for but secretly love?

So THIS is what they meant...

This morning I was feeding my kids. The little one is trying out puffs for the first time and is pretty bad at it. He has no idea what he is doing. The other one was trying to steal the puffs for herself, demanding I tell her the story of The Wizard of Oz for the 43785th time this morning, and refusing to eat the toast I made her. Note: this was toast with CREAM CHEESE, and I despise cream cheese more than life itself. I hate getting it on me, I hate looking at it, I only enjoy eating it if I don't know it's in something. So making this for her is a huge concession on my part and while I try to impart this upon her, she absolutely does not care.

And then I realized.

In ten years, this is what I will remember and think was so awesome and miss so very terribly. Nothing happened, really, but it was so quintessentially "my kids" that I just had this really weird feeling come over me and I wanted to freeze the moment (either a Zack Morris style "time out" or put my fingers together and stop time like that girl did on that show Out of This World and yes I remember her name is Evie) and just eat them up and make them promise to never get any bigger and stay like this forever.

This is totally what we're too tired to notice 98% of the time, but it's so awesome.

Ballet Flats and Boatnecks

I like pajamas now. I buy fancy jams for 80% off at 6pm.com (the best-kept secret in Internet shopping) and am probably a pee-filled jar away from Howard Hughes-ness, but whatever. During the day, I struggle a bit. I'm not a workout girl, but of course enjoy workout clothes. Everything gets spit-up on it, so anything non-sweats has to be washable and not-requiring an iron, because I am a terrible ironer.

So, what do you wear?

This frozen weather has been a bit prohibitive, but normally I like jeans, a boatneck shirt and ballet flats.

What are your favorite jeans? I like Gap legging, they hide the baby backfat issue and are comfortable.

What are your favorite ballet flats? These are a staple, but I din't have any that I love. I've got some Tory Burch Revas that I scored on major sale a while back, but they're a little narrow. I don't mind spending more on shoes because I tend to wear the same pair to death, but I don't know which are the best. Thoughts?

And finally, boatnecks. I can never find ones that are long enough. I'm tall, but mostly torso (I know, weird!) so shirts are always short on me.

Okay, let me know what you think. And I'll let you borrow one of my 2,008 robes.

Here's Why We Can't be Friends - an Open Letter to THOSE Moms

Okay, so having two kids is fun, but I'm toasted. Therefore, we need to talk.

Not about how my turkey son is a junk sleeper. Not about how my turkey daughter refuses to play on a playground. But about how freaking UPPITY all of these parents I've been meeting lately are.

Cue "Why Can't We be Friends?" and then let's all drink beer and watch Dazed and Confused.

No, seriously. Here's why we can't be friends.

Everyone I have been meeting lately (when you stay home, you are forced by proximity to meet a lot of new people - like at the playground, library, booze section of Trader Joe's) has had an OPINION. You know what I mean? Like, "Oh, I would NEVER feed my kids (insert food kids eat here)." Or, "Oh, I have no idea who Dora is, we don't watch TV."

First of all, liar. If you don't know who Dora is, you are dumb. Everyone knows who Dora is. And if you don't feed your kids grilled cheese, chicken nuggets and french fries, guess what. That's great. But I'm not a lesser parent because I do. So shut your trap.

I am all for everyone raising their kids differently - how are you supposed to learn new ways of tricking your kids into doing what you want? But, barring abuse, neglect, etc., everyone is doing their best so back off. Nobody needs to hear from a stranger, or someone who doesn't have your specific kid, what they think you should be doing.

I love this blog: www.modgblog.com, and the girl who writes it wants to stop because idiots are being, well, idiots and making her feel badly. I think that sucks. She's parenting the way she feels is right and people are giving her crap? It's not anyone's place to be judgmental anywhere, ever.

And why is it that the junkiest, meanest moms are also always the ugliest ones in mom jeans? There HAS to be a connection, don't you think?

Anyway, that's what's been on my mind lately and I wanted to see if I was the only one who felt this way. Eat organic. Don't. Bring your kids into your bed. Don't. Who cares? Just make happy, nice kids.

And if you can figure out how to get a baby to sleep 12 hours straight, I promise I won't talk about you behind your back anymore. Promise!