Today is day four of my promise to self to write every day for the remainder of the month. Not surprisingly, my well is a little dry, and it’s a lot late, and I just ate dinner with friends who make a mean margarita.
And so, here are some very subjective truths, or, perhaps more aptly, random thoughts and opinions on my life.
- Dance parties are the worst. Why do all of these mom blogs tell me to “STOP! And have a dance party!” with my kids? They claim it get their energy out while putting a smile on our faces, and thereby restore all harmony to the house. I’m not a monster. I do like music, and I like dancing. So I have tried this. Here are a few representative results. I dance enthusiastically, and both children beg for me to pick them up and dance with them. They weigh, collectively, 80 lbs. I can rotate them for about four minutes and then I give up. Which brings me to scenario two. They both cry. Maybe because I don’t pick them up. Maybe because they hate the song. Maybe because they hate my dancing. All of these have been scream sobbed at me in the past. A third and also common response is to stare at me like I am a mad person, and that they are entirely proper little children who wouldn’t dream of spazzing out to Top 40 hits. Edie once looked at me during one of my dance attempts with a mix of embarrassment and revulsion, and said “Mom. Do you have to go to the bathroom? … Because it looks like you have to go to the bathroom.” Dance parties for the pffffffffttt.
- Frozen isn’t great. It isn’t terrible either. I don’t love Disney movies. I attribute that to a couple things to this. First, I wasn’t raised on Disney. Disney to me reminds me of babysitting or hanging out with my nieces. It’s not nostalgic for me personally. And then there’s the whole I don’t like their messages. And I really, really don’t like the consumerism. This, I know, is all a totally killjoy way to be. I don’t preach on it. Have your fun. Enjoy your Disney. Vaya con Dios, man. I’m all for finding your bliss. But it ain’t my bag, so forgive if I politely ask you to stop telling me what I MUST watch. That said: Frozen. I don’t think the music is as catchy as the Little Mermaid. I still think there is troubling gender representation. But it’s a big improvement. And my kids love it. And I can’t even tell you how my heart explodes hearing them sing “Let it Go” together.
- Last weekend I threw out Eli’s umbilical cord, because what exactly am I supposed to do with it anyways? That’s more or less all I have to say on this. I was organizing. Came across a bag in which his dried and packaged umbilical cord had been preserved for me, not at my request. I finally just admitted that I did not want this. And I tossed it. Sayonara, Cordy.
- Working ladies, there is no reason to deal with waistbands any more. I have discovered, to my absolute delight, that since my last time in the work world, clothing makers have made huge strides in comfortable business casual. Namely: dress pants with elastic waists. They feel so. damn. good. Nearly like yoga pants. But they’re dress pants all right. And I dare anyone to tell me otherwise. There is just no reason to wear pinchy or inflexible pantwear, women. Get thee down to a Nordstrom Rack or a Ross Dress for Less, and do it right.
- My kids gross me out. I can withstand a lot of ick from my kids. But that doesn’t mean their snot glitters for me, or their rank diapers hit my nose like so much fresh dew. Kids are gross. I get it. Part of it is just a baseline shift. You get used to it. And a lot of it is deliberate behavior to not body shame your kid. That’s important. But once in awhile, you’ve just got to say “No you cannot use my water bottle. Because you are a horrible backwasher. And I am a human being, so I don’t like that.”
Good night! From the #nofilter face of tequila-induced writer’s block.