Posted in Parenting Tales, tagged humor, kids, quotes on June 21, 2011| Leave a Comment »
Me: LJ, we have to stop to get gas for the car.
LJ: Daddy works at a place that gives gas to cars.
Me: No, he doesn’t. Daddy works in advertising. Like, commercials.
LJ: Are there cowboy hats and hot dogs where he works?
Me: Uhhh, yes. Lots of them.
LJ: Yay!!! And spiders, too?!?
Me: Are you on drugs?!
LJ: Yay! Ha!
Posted in NYC Livin', Parenting Tales, We Love Art, Wordless Wednesday, tagged art, Brooklyn, education, kids, museums on June 15, 2011| 6 Comments »
Last week we had a few days where NYC was just unbearably steamy, especially for the beginning of June, so we headed to my favorite weekday time-suck: The Brooklyn Museum. The weekday mornings are always ridiculously empty, almost in a deserted, slasher flick way, so I don’t feel bad when LJ starts shouting “LOOK MOMMY!! LOOK AT HER BOOBIES!!! THAT LADY’S NAKED!! HAHA!!”. Before we left our apartment we made a scavenger hunt list of all the things we wanted to find in the artwork: a dog, a train, a princess, a river, a circle, a tiger, a mommy, some kids and a red square. We found them all because my kid is a super intellectual tiny genius. (NOT AT ALL because I bribed her, and told her if she helped me find everything on the list I’d buy her something from the store. Not at ALL.)
Posted in Parenting Tales, Self-Indulgence, tagged annoying toys, humor, kids on June 9, 2011| 3 Comments »
Inspired by a post from the blog Mama Wants This, I didn’t have to think long to decide what I would deem in our home as the worst toys EVER. The toys that make my skin crawl. The toys that make me want to hurl them against the wall, hoping they shatter into a million pieces. The toys I have tried to throw away, but always get caught doing so. The toys that make me want to shoot myself in the face.
Pain in the Ass Toy #1
Imagine listening to this for more than 25 seconds. It’s so sensitive that every time something is placed on top of it on the bookshelf, even the lightest feather, it starts quacking. All. The. Time.
Pain in the Ass Toy #2
Honestly, I used to kind of like Thomas. I loved that my daughter wasn’t into pushing dolls around in a stroller, and much preferred dinosaurs and trains. Then we saw Thomas Live at MSG, and that shit was so boring we’re all over it. This is BY FAR the worst Thomas toy in existence.
Pain in the Ass Toy #3
Ok, I know you’re all going to say, “Whaaaat? That’s an eco-friendly Melissa & Doug educational toy! What’s not to love?”. Let me tell you something: I am so SICK of being engrossed in the latest episode of Real Housewives of NYC, only to randomly hear “U is for UMBRELLA!” out of the BLUE. If one of the pieces falls off while on the shelf, it just calls out at random intervals. When it’s dark and you’re home alone, hearing some strange man suddenly call out “D is for DICE!” is creepy as shit.
So, what are the toys that make you want to pull YOUR hair out?
Posted in NYC Livin', Wordless Wednesday, tagged Brooklyn, Coney Island, kids, NYC, Wordless Wednesday on June 8, 2011| 85 Comments »
After my horrific, soul-crushing Monday, I have to say: I kicked Tuesday’s butt! Â LJ and I spent the entire day at Coney Island where we just LOVE the kitsch, the rides, the snacks and the overall awesomeness. (Plus, running into Zach Galifianakis around every corner didn’t hurt.)
Posted in Parenting Tales, tagged humor, kids, parenting, quotes on May 20, 2011| Leave a Comment »
Mumbling to myself as I pulled on a pair of shorts, “Ugh, I feel like these make me look fat.” “Mommy, you’re a fat princess!”
“Look at me!” said LJ as she walked up to me with a dollar she took from my wallet. “Wow! Money! what do you want to buy with it?”, I asked. “Clouds!”
“LJ, what are you thankful for?” “Bagels.”
“Mommy, you’re gray!” Â “Oh, my hair, yeah, I need to get it done.” Â “No, your face.”
“Your teeth are yucky all the way.”
Me: “Listen, you know your fish? Shelly? She died, so she had to go away forever. I’m so sorry.” (One second pause) “Mommy, can you fix my slinky?”
“Mommy, I have bones inside my body. I love them. My bones love to ride the F train.”
“When I grow up I can be a mommy and I’ll get giant boobies!”
“What color is he? Brown like chocolate?”
“Mommy! There’s an ant on my dress! Can I put him in my piggy bank?”
“Jesus CHRIST! Jesus CHRIST!”, muttered angrily under her breath while stomping around at the DMV.
“Mommy, you look droopy!”, as she watched me try on a bathing suit.
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