Déjà Oops

Ladies, beware that extra glass of red wine on date night, or you could end up like me and find yourself with child yet again.  By the end of the summer I will be a Mother of two, which is a truly terrifying idea.  I can assure you that this unforeseen event was not even close to planned, and I assumed with the confluence of my advanced age (I am, after all, 100 in Hollywood years) and having recently stopped breastfeeding that it wasn't even possible to get pregnant again, but there you go.  So it looks like we're taking this crazy parenthood ride for another spin and hoping against hope that everybody comes out unscathed.  God help us.

I'm going to be honest with you here, folks, but I was fine with only having one kid.  I still have crap parenting days and I screw up royally on a regular basis, but we have a groove going around here that's manageable, and I was looking forward to sending the Muffin Man off to preschool in another year and getting back to my regularly-scheduled life.  Needless to say it looks like I'll be full-time mommying for a bit longer than I planned, so I'm feeling awfully thankful for Xanax this morning.

Have a Springtastic Weekend

Happy Friday my lovelies!  We had a wonderful time celebrating the Hubby's birthday last night that included dinner at our local favorite sushi spot and a frosty treat from the new ice cream shop that opened in the neighboring 'hood.  It's a beautiful spring day around these parts, so I'm hoping to sneak in an hour or two of gardening time this weekend.  Don't forget to set your clocks ahead on Saturday night; it's spring forward time!

Here are a few things that caught my eye this week around the world wide web:

The new OPI nail polish line is Muppet-inspired and I'm totally digging it.

The perfect cocktail for a spring weekend.

Have you Travoltified your name yet?  (Mine is Adil Loing)

Ten-second styling tips every woman can utilize.

Even famous people got rejection letters.  Don't you feel better now?

Little kid answers to The Proust Questionnaire is hilarious.

Vanilla bean coconut ice cream that's vegan - yum!

This judgmental map of Los Angeles is brilliant.  Do you live in Annoying Tourist?

What advice would you give your 20 year-old self?  

Maureen Dowd weighs in on Cate Blanchette's Oscar speech and women in Hollywood.

Splendid's two-tone jumpsuit is my current fashion obsession.

Have a beautiful weekend!

xoxo

P.S. - don't forget to enter the Blue Apron giveaway; you could win a week of dinners on me!

Nosy Neighbor

All the magic is happening over at Laughing My Vag Off today, folks, so head on over there for all the dirt on my nosy neighbor and her ongoing threats to report me to Child Protective Services.  If our rent wasn't so ridiculously below market value I would almost drive be driven to relocate.

It's the Hubby's birthday today, so we're headed out for a hot adult dinner date this evening that will most definitely involve cocktails and a lengthy discussion about… our child.  Welcome to parenthood.  

xoxo

Motherhood FAIL of the Week: Wet 'n Wild

I recently retired my giant diaper bag in favor of a smaller, fanny pack-style bag that I can toss into and out of whatever real purse I happen to be carrying each day.  Now that the Muffin Man is older and less prone to both spitting up all over himself and/or pooping through his clothes, I no longer need to carry quite so many items in my bag simply to go to the grocery store a mile away.  I can't tell you how freeing it has been to no longer be carrying a twenty-pound bag full of 12 diapers, six changes of clothes, three bottles of milk and numerous other accoutrements.  While my diaper bag was pretty chic and normal looking as far as diaper bags go, now that I'm carrying a smaller, lighter purse again I feel a bit more like a normal, functioning member of society; it's a refreshing change.

As part of my streamlined approach, I ditched carrying around an extra set of clothes for Noah.  I guess I'd gotten overly confident in my son's ability to wear the same outfit for an entire day without incident, but it's been several months since I had to strip the kiddo down while out and about, so I figured we'd probably survive one afternoon of music class and a quick lunch with our favorite Mommy-daughter duo without needing a backup outfit.

In certain ways I suppose I am a Los Angeles cliché: my hair is "blonde", I've been known to complain that it's cold when the temperature dips below 50 degrees, and I always carry a bottle of water in my purse.  Trust me, it's important to stay hydrated, especially when you're chasing after a small, but very fast-moving, human.  Most days I'm very happy that I have that water in my purse… with the exception of this past Monday.  Somewhere in the block between music class and my car, the cap came off of the bottle and water leaked through my purse and completely drenched Noah's pants while I was holding him.  Upon first noticing that my child was sporting a pair of wet pants I assumed that he had peed through his diaper, but after closer examination it became evident that either he had some sort of syndrome that caused him to release inhuman amounts of urine or that he somehow got covered in an entire bottle's worth of water.

As I stood there on the sidewalk outside of my car I weighed the options: I could forgo lunch with our friends and instead whisk Noah home to change into some dry clothing and hopefully find something to feed him in the larder, or I could take him to lunch wearing his wet clothes and do my best not to expose him to drafts.  I'm sure you won't be surprised when I tell you that I chose the latter.  Look, it was a beautiful, sunny day in Los Angeles with temperatures in the 70's, we were both hungry, and I was in desperate need of adult interaction.  Sure, I forced my poor kid to sit through a meal in wet pants, but can't we just look at it as some sort of training for the inevitable hazing he'll be forced to endure should he choose to rush a fraternity?

I know a better Mother than I would've raced home, swiftly changed her kid's clothes, and then magically prepared some delicious and protein-filled lunch to satiate both herself and her son, but that is most definitely not me.  Hey, you probably would've made the same choice I did when given the option between eating questionable leftovers at home or a pecan babka roll at Sycamore Kitchen.  Judge me harshly if you will, dear reader, but rest assured I have learned my lesson: I'm back to carrying a spare outfit in my purse.

Feed Me, Mommy: Blue Apron Giveaway!

Friends, I never really truly appreciated the luxury of having time to grocery shop until I had a child.  I didn't understand how lucky I was to be able to wander the aisles in a leisurely fashion reading labels and checking out new products.  Heck, I even took for granted how nice it was to have time to go to the market at all!  Well, I am currently nostalgic for the days of grocery shopping that involved tasting exotic cheeses and sampling ripe citrus rather than a ten minute mad dash with a screaming toddler who finds it hilarious to throw weird items into my cart (specifically from the Kosher aisle - it's like he inherently knows he's a Jew or something).  Oh, and those supermarket-sweep experiences are on the good days when I've actually managed to get myself and the Muffin Man together to even get to the grocery store; there have been quite a number of evenings when I've found myself standing in the pantry with a can of lentils, half a package of gluten-free pasta, and a few limp leaves of spinach trying to figure out what to make for dinner before finally giving in and ordering takeout shwarma for the sixth night in a row.  

Well, my friends, I finally got smart a month or two ago and I signed up for Blue Apron.  I don't know why I waited so long, but this service has changed my life.  Blue Apron sends you a box full of all the ingredients needed to prepare three dinners per week, along with step-by-step recipes.  The food is good, like really really good, and way more interesting than anything I would've come up with preparing when left to my own devices (I'm great at meatlaof and meatballs but that's about it).  We've tried both their vegetarian meal box and their meat/poultry/seafood option, and so far we've had no disappointments.  Oh, and did I mention the best part?  It's only $9.99 per person, per meal.  That's less than I would spend at the market if I ever had time to go there.  In fact, the food is so good that I'm actually kind of depressed when we've finished all three meals and we're once again forced to fend for ourselves, but at least we're only eating four days of Middle Eastern takeout instead of seven.

In fact, I'm so pleased with this fabulous service that I am giving away one week of Blue Apron meals for two!  That's right, you could be enjoying delicious home cooked, gourmet meals instead of eating packaged macaroni and cheese for the fourth night in a row.  By the way, I am giving this away as a token of my love for you (and to make up for my rant yesterday) and it is no way sponsored by Blue Apron.  That's how much I love the service and how much I care about you, dear reader.  So go ahead and enter to win - I don't think you'll regret it.

To enter to win, leave a comment here and let me know why you desperately need a few good dinners in your life.  For an extra entry, hop on over and like the Misadventures in Motherhood Facebook page.   Contest ends next Tuesday at midnight.  (one caveat: just make sure to check their delivery areas here before entering - I would hate to leave anyone disappointed and hungry!)

Good luck!

xoxo

Let's Get Real

I had a whole post planned here today about the Muffin Man's new zest for eating and how he's getting ready to walk and blah, blah, blah, blah.  It was funny and witty and full of my usual self-deprecation and I'm sure you would've enjoyed it, but that all went out the window when I sat down to watch the Oscars last night.  Friends, I am just so unbelievably horrified at the botoxed and plasticized faces and bodies of these women that we, as a society, consider to be the female ideal.  As I watched the TV cameras pan around the Dolby Theater, or show close-ups of this star and that star, I began to notice that almost every single one of them looked like a wax figure.  There were no frown lines, no smile lines, no crows feet, no wrinkled necks or post-baby tummy pooches.  In fact, I'm not sure that the majority of the women making a living as actresses in Hollywood are capable of moving the muscles of their faces to convey a genuine emotion.  When did our standard of beauty here in the United States become something akin to the visage of a porcelain doll instead of that of a human?  Aren't people's faces supposed to be a map of the lives they've lived, as opposed to a calling card for Dr. Rosenblum, FACS?  

I don't know if my newfound outrage has to do with the fact that I am now a Mother, and therefore want the world to be a better place for my offspring, or if it is related to seeing a face in the mirror every morning that is aging rapidly, but whatever the case, I'm on a tear.  I want to see women who look their age and whose faces give me some taste of the sorrows they've felt and the joys they've experienced.  I no longer want to read magazines with photoshopped images gracing the pages.  NO SINGLE (HUMAN) WOMAN IS PERFECT.  It's not possible.  But I don't want to look in the mirror every day and beat myself up because I don't look perfect like the celebrities that grace our TVs and movie screens.  I am a living, breathing, real woman in her thirties, and I don't have a forehead full of Botox and a makeup artist on speed dial to disguise that fact.  My eyebrows are a mess because instead of getting them waxed I'm chasing after a small human who seems to be able to crawl at the speed of light.  Yep, I do have grey hair, and the reason you're seeing it is because trying to find three hours to go get my roots colored is nigh on impossible.

A lot of newsprint and online space is taken up discussing how damaging Hollywood's obsession with weight is to young women, which is all well and good, but I'm concerned with the message that is being sent to women of all ages that it is vital to retain the look of youth no matter what the cost.  The truth is that these people look like freaks.  I can't imagine that Kim Novak's real face could possibly be more frightening than the one she's currently wearing and that was purchased to the tune of hundreds of thousands of dollars.  Or how about Goldie Hawn, whose visage no longer matches the rest of her?  And let's not leave the men who are guilty of crimes against plastic surgery out of this equation either.  John Travolta, in addition to looking like he walked out of Madame Tussaud's, has apparently had so much work done that he can no longer read a name off of a teleprompter.  This madness has got to stop.

If you're at all skeptical about employing actors with real faces, I urge you to take a look at the Swedish version of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.  I admit that I found it a bit jarring initially to see women (and men) who look their ages and have the attendant wrinkles and imperfections that go hand-in-hand with getting older, but after a few minutes of seeing this normalcy on the big screen I felt joy, actual happiness, that there exists a world outside of Hollywood where women look like women and not like plastic dolls.  Wouldn't it be refreshing, even validating, to watch a movie at the Arclight and see someone who looks like the rest of us - with all of our numerous flaws - flit across the big screen?  I would definitely feel a heck of a lot more inclined to pay $24 a ticket if I thought I might see a woman more representative of what I and my contemporaries look like.  Hey, I like movie magic as much as the next person, but I could use just a bit more reality thrown in with my fantasy.

On the other hand, maybe I'm just bitter and jaded and I need to pop another Xanax, make an appointment to get some Botox, and think about having a breast lift.

Image courtesy The Hollywood Reporter

Have a Wintery Weekend

Hey now, we made it to the weekend!  It's a fabulously rainy day here in Los Angeles, so I woke up to the sounds of sirens and honking car horns this morning, since Angelenos seem to lose their ability to function as (somewhat) rational human beings whenever water falls from the sky.  I personally love the rain and wish that it was more of a recurring guest star instead of just an occasional co-star in the soap opera that is life in La La Land.

The Oscars are this Sunday, so all the roads in Hollywood are closed and you can't get a dinner reservation anywhere decent to save your life.  I'm not a big awards show fan, and thanks to my status as the Mother of a small child I've seen exactly zero of the nominated movies despite having screeners, so we'll most likely be watching House of Cards rather than a bunch of self-congratulative speeches on Sunday night.  I can guarantee you that I will tune in for Joan Rivers and her Fashion Police Oscar Addition on Monday though, because she slays me.

Here are a few little goodies that caught my eye this week:

The Gratitude App.  Because we all need to be a little more thankful for what we've got.

A not-so-basic black t-shirt.

Cool infographic of every Best Actress Oscar winner's dress since 1929.

I'm buying a pouf since my butt gets sore from sitting on the floor with Noah all the time.

Honey mustard roasted cashews are the perfect Oscar viewing snack.

Yelp's top-rated restaurant in the US will most definitely surprise you. (I've been there!)

Love this Oscars drinking game.

Sometimes the kindness of strangers is what gets a new Momma through the day.

Spring makeup trends to get you ready for warmer temps.

Have a great weekend, my lovelies!

xoxo