Adulthood Stole My Cool

Summer Days, a Song

Posted on Sep 1, 2015 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool

Are any of you still on summer “vacation”?

What. The. Heck.

My daughter is only three, and yeah, technically she doesn’t even need to be in school. But I need her to be in school.  Like, yesterday.  However she doesn’t start for two more weeks.  It’s September, people! By the time she goes back to school, she will have been on break for FOUR FREAKING MONTHS.

In the meantime, my son is getting his molars and has been waking up multiple times every night for the past few weeks.  Between that and the endless summer, I have officially gone crazy.  In my madness, I penned a little ditty to the tune of Grease’s, “Summer Nights.” Unfortunately I don’t have the technical skills (or the musical skills) to film a cute YouTube video of me singing it, so you’ll have to sing it to yourself. And don’t pretend like you don’t know the song.  I know you do.

 

 

SUMMER DAYS

Summer vaca, kids having a blast

Summer vaca, it just lasts and it lasts

I swear it’s true, I’m losing my mind

Kids don’t care, they think it’s fine

 

Summer days, not drifting away, no no

Endless summer days

 

Well-a-well-a-well-a, huh

Two weeks more, two weeks more

Camps are making me poor

Two weeks more, two weeks more

Moms start drinking at four

 

The college kids have all left town

There’s not a babysitter to be found

Go to the park again and again

Tell me why we paid this month’s tuition?

 

Summer sun, school has not begun, oh no

Endless summer days

 

Well-a-well-a-well-a, huh

Two weeks more, two weeks more

How can days go so slow?

Two weeks more, two weeks more

These kids really must go

 

My kids’ new parent is PBS

I simply could not care less

Four months of summer is just plain cruel

Our neighborhood doesn’t even have a pool

 

Summer fun, can it please be done, but no

Endless summer days

 

Well-a-well-a-well-a, huh

Two weeks more, two weeks more

Don’t think we’ll make it alive

Two weeks more, two weeks more

I think I’ll have a good cry

 

Shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop

Shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, shoo-bop-bop, yeah!

 

It’s too hot to go outside

But in the house it’s just whining and cries

My kid gives attitude just like a teen

I’m over this, you know what I mean?

 

Summer heat, just can’t be beat, oh oh

Endless summer days

 

Well-a-well-a-well-a, huh

Two weeks more, two weeks more

The administrations don’t care

Two weeks more, two weeks more

How the parents will fare

 

It turns colder, but summer won’t end

Feels like preschool won’t ever begin

Does Labor day not mean a thing?

It’s time to go and pour me a drink

 

Parents’ dreams, ripped at the seams

Because, oh, endless summer days!

 

Two weeks more, two weeks more!

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So This is 30

Posted on Apr 23, 2015 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

So This is 30 0

Last month I turned the big 3-0. Trying to distract me from my impending physical and mental decline, my husband invited several of my oldest and dearest friends to town to “celebrate.” Here’s how the weekend went. Kim arrived first, having driven from Pennsylvania. Soon after she arrived, we had to go pick Jess and Molly at the airport. I could not remove my kids’ car seats from our Highlander, so we drove Kim’s minivan to the airport. Car seats and minivans. PARTY ON, PEOPLE! After our last guest Megan arrived, Damon passed out champagne and we got ready to hit the town. Lesson: drinking champagne while bottle-feeding your baby will elicit judgment from the babysitter. Damon dropped us girls off at a restaurant where we met another friend, Brett. Once seated we immediately complained about the noise level and squinted to read the menus. Then we played a little game called, Guess Your Server’s Age. Do not play this game if you want to keep your ego intact. You’ll think she’s your age only to discover you could be her… significantly older cousin or former babysitter. As it was not only my thirtieth, but also Megan’s and Brett’s, our barely-legal server brought us out three free desserts. I think she felt sorry for us, but no matter. Three free desserts was about the most exciting thing to happen to any of us, and also slightly dangerous. After all, our metabolisms aren’t what they used to be. In some misguided attempt to recapture our youth, we went to the bar across the street after dinner. The bartender gave us birthday shots, which were essentially sugar-water. We were all secretly thankful, because no way we can handle shots without a wicked hangover anymore. We had a spirited conversation about Beyoncé and Taylor Swift (We’re young! We know pop culture!), and then admitted we were all exhausted from kids/work/travel and needed to sleep ASAP. The next day we went downtown for brunch and massages. While discussing whether or not to order mimosas, one friend said, “Oh, I can’t. I’ll have to...

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The SnotSucker

Posted on Mar 5, 2015 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool

The SnotSucker 0

Hello there, Interwebz. It’s been awhile.  A lot has happened since I last posted, but I’ll fill you in on all that another day.  Suffice to say, I have been existing in a sort of  semi-conscious state for several months. The baby. He does not sleep. I thought he would have grown out of the not-sleeping thing by now, but no. It’s torture. (No, really. Chronic sleep deprivation is literally torture. I think Jack Bauer taught me that.) But all this is unimportant compared to a life-changing invention that I’m about to introduce you to.  Ready for it? It’s called… The Snotsucker. Yup, you read that right.  The Snotsucker. Before I fill you in on this amazing/disgusting invention, a little background: It’s March. And it’s snowing. And it’s been snowing for pretty much ever. And Elisabeth has been in school approximately two days in the last month. And I am very much going crazy. Which explains why my first post in almost six months is about a nasal aspirator. Please send help in the form of babysitters, vacations to tropical islands, and tequila. Okay, back to the Snotsucker. You savvy moms out there are probably already well-acquainted with this. It is the thing to have to effectively clear your baby’s nasal passages.  I mean, they sell it at Nordstrom so you know it’s trendy.  And who doesn’t want a trendy nasal aspirator? Well I sure do! As I just mentioned it’s March and apparently I live in Siberia and for the past five months everyone in my house has been circulating The Crud. For those of us with well-developed fine motor skills, blowing our nose is not an issue.  The baby, unfortunately,  frequently has a bulb syringe shoved up his nose to suction out all the boogies. And there are oh-so-many boogies. With the Snotsucker, the baby still has a foreign object shoved up his nose, but one that much more effectively clears out all the snot.  It’s seriously amazing. And I’m not even being sarcastic. It all started when I was wandering around – you guessed it –...

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Sleeping in Pee: The Joys of Being a New Mom

Posted on Aug 28, 2014 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Babies, anyone?  Engagements, weddings, babies – they seem to happen in seasons.  And if ever there was a baby season, it is now.  I know of at least 20 (probably more) women that have recently had babies or are due in the next few months.  As I’ve been a mom for almost three whole years and now have TWO children, I’m obviously an expert on all things motherhood.  But that didn’t stop me from absolutely panicking right after James was born.  There he was, this tiny baby, entirely dependent on me.  And there I was, struggling to get him to nurse, exhausted (and he was only a few hours old!) and convinced that I would not be able to do this newborn stage again – the sleepless nights, the non-stop nursing, the unexplainable crying.  Nope, couldn’t do it. That moment passed, thankfully, but I think it’s a pretty common feeling among the mommy set.  In case anyone needed a reminder, being a new mom is hard.  And scary. So I want to share a few things I’ve learned with these new moms and moms-to-be, whether they’re having their first child or third. 1)   Step away from The Google.  Seriously.  Everything you read will convince you that you’re failing as a mother or your child is dying.  Probably neither is true.  Admittedly, I need to heed my own advice here.  I recently convinced myself that my daughter was dry drowning and that my newborn son would be developmentally stunted from lack of sleep.  Get this – dry drowning is extremely rare, though the interwebs would lead you to believe otherwise.  My daughter was fine.  As for my son? Maybe he will be stunted due to lack of sleep. But I don’t need Google reminding me of that.  Neither do you.  So back away. 2)   You may only wash your hair about once a week.  Accept this and move on. 3)   Same goes for shaving your legs.  Not a problem if your baby is born in November.  But if you have a spring or summer baby, invest in maxi dresses. 4)  ...

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Can’t Hack It

Posted on Apr 12, 2014 in Adulthood Stole My Cool, My Kid Stole My Cool, Pregnancy Stole My Cool

Can’t Hack It 1

I spent last weekend in San Francisco visiting friends.  Non-mom friends.  For the first time, the distinction between “mom” friends and “non-mom” friends became important; for the first time, I realized that though I like to think I can hang out with my non-mom friends just like I used to, I’m severely disillusioned.  Nope.  As a 33 weeks pregnant mom of a two-year-old, I just can’t hack it anymore. *** The week after moving back to southern California, a few non-mom friends happened to be in town.  After exchanging emails to make dinner plans, one friend suggested a place and time. 8:30. I balked. 8:30!? As in, PM!?  But that’s jammy time!  I hastily wrote my friends back, and after claiming jet-lag, asked if we could push dinner up to 8:00.  I really meant 5:30, but figured that might be pushing it for my friends whose lives don’t currently revolve around potty-training and early morning prenatal yoga.  So 8:00 it was.  The evening of our dinner arrived, and after chugging boatloads of coffee I made my way to the restaurant, praying I wouldn’t fall asleep face-first into my mocktail.* I managed to rally, but I got lucky that time.  So let’s examine last weekend, when a silly pregnant woman attempted to recapture her pre-children days. Friday night my girlfriends and I got together at a charming little Italian restaurant.  We enjoyed a delicious dinner and then lingered over wine.  (Well, everyone else lingered over wine.  I lingered over water.)  I love these girls.  I love catching up with them.  I love lingering over wine when I am actually allowed to drink wine.  But how does a sleep-deprived, third-trimester pregnant woman stay awake past 9:00 in a dim restaurant after eating copious amounts of carbs and cured meat?  It’s damn near impossible, I tell you. Everyone seemed a little spent after a long week, and decided to disperse after dinner rather than heading out somewhere else.  Thank the good Lord – I could go to bed!  Except I couldn’t.  My friend’s neighbor fell asleep with her television blasting.  My über-sensitivity...

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How I Know I’m Old: Hiking Mount Fuji

Posted on Sep 3, 2013 in Adulthood Stole My Cool

How I Know I’m Old: Hiking Mount Fuji 0

Last month while I was in California, my dear friend Molly visited me from New York.  Molly and I have been friends since our freshman year of college, when we were young and could drink pitcher upon pitcher of margaritas with no ill effect. Well, we’re not young anymore.  She’s a grown up lawyer in Manhattan, and I’m a grown up with, like, a husband and kid.  Molly and I still haven’t fully accepted our adulthood status yet, but it’s getting harder and harder to deny.  This last visit, we devised a little game.  “Do you know how I know I’m getting old?  [Insert depressing evidence here]”. I thought I could translate this game into my blog.  So here you go, my first “How I’m Know I’m Old” post:  Mount Fuji. Ever since we learned we would be stationed in Japan, Damon has talked about hiking Mount Fuji.  I said I would hike it with him, not because I’m a hiking enthusiast, but because every few years I have to do things like this to prove to Damon that I still love him. Anyway.  Fuji-San is only open for hiking two months out of the year, and Damon and I had a slim window to take advantage of climbing season.  He returned home the end of August on a Thursday and we left for a vacation trip to Singapore the following Monday.  Once Damon was home and settled, we scrambled to prep for the climb.  (Scrambling includes realizing at 7PM the night before your 4AM wake-up that your hiking boots have gone missing.  Way to be prepared, Diana!) This experience was a lesson in expectation management.  I knew it would be challenging to a degree – I mean, you are climbing up a mountain – but I figured, “I’m fairly athletic, I can handle this.”  (Not to mention all the children and little old ladies that complete this hike.)  In my head, I thought it would be a long but scenic stroll up the mountain.  Gradual inclines that would plateau into picturesque viewing points.  Warm and sunny at the...

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