An Open Letter to my Deceased Mother

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Dear Mom, Our New Year is a time for reflection, which naturally leads me to think of you. But this specific holiday always proves to be doubly difficult; all special occasions are a little less joyous without you, but this … Continue reading

The Art of Saying ‘No’

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I am inherently a people pleaser. I grew up in a home full of tumult and imbalance, so I did what I had to do to survive – I made sure everyone else was happy so my environment could remain … Continue reading

Trash Bags from Heaven

Not a single day goes by that I don’t miss my mom. I wish that my mother had the chance to meet my daughter. But that’s impossible, because she died five and a half years before she was born. Those five and a half years were full of both despair and happiness; it would have been nice to have had her company through all of it.

Some days, a piece of me is still sad. Even though I am overflowing with joy, I often turn to my husband and say that I wish my mother was able to share in her granddaughter’s growth. I feel heartbroken. I can’t help it. I miss having my mother and my best friend present.

Other days, like today, that sad, little piece of me is surprised with a visit. Not by apparitions, but by trash bags. Let me explain: my lovingly neurotic Jewish mother shopped at Costco for everything. Our house was always stocked full of copious amounts of well… anything you could imagine.  And so, the 800-count box of trash bags my mom purchased not long before her death, still persists. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I kept them for these six plus years even though they didn’t fit any of my trash cans. And finally, when we purchased our diaper pail that is compatible with any bag of our choosing, I was thrilled to discover their purpose.

Now, as I change my daughter’s diaper pail bag, I can’t help but smile (despite the awful stench) because my mother’s thoughtfulness and ever preparedness persists, too. In turn, I am reminded that her unending love will also continue through eternity. Thus, I know she is still present, and each day I love her even more.

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L.A. Fashion… Whaaat?

Yesterday I had a rather impromptu visit from one of my best friends. Let me set the stage first: I’ve been home with my daughter the entire week, and I have rarely changed my clothes, let alone brushed my hair. In walks my glamorous best friend who happened to be in the neighborhood because she was visiting a jeweler that is supplying pieces for the show she is styling for L.A. Fashion Week…. Which seems like an utterly foreign concept to me at this very moment.

She struts in with her gorgeous ensemble, flawless hair, makeup perfectly done, and tons of stories to tell. I listen with rapt attention (except for when baby girl calls for us; then we both turn and play with her). My girlfriend is filling me in on her upcoming few days; pulling and planning outfits for a show in Downtown L.A. to start off L.A. Fashion Week. Oh, and did she mention that she could possibly be visiting India within a couple of days? Sigh.

I am beyond happy for her and God knows I am thrilled to listen. And as I give her my attention, I look down at my sweats (that I have been wearing for three straight days, mind you), noticing a splotch of dried food towards the cuff of my pants. Awesome. I wonder what blob of baby food it is (which reminds me of my favorite line from the movie Baby Mama: “is it poop or is it chocolate?” but I digress). I tune back into the excitement that is my beautiful friend’s life and I am not-so-secretly jealous.

The visit is lovely; I fill her in on my life, which consists of Charlotte, Charlotte, and more Charlotte. Which, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love. She claps and grins and hugs and plays and my heart melts. And then I think of whisking myself away to India on a moment’s notice. L.A. Fashion Week sounds more and more distant, even though it’s about ten miles away.

Oh, and then there’s the girl I graduated high school with, who also had a baby the same day Charlotte was born, who’s hosting her own television show about fashion on E! This chick looks skinnier than she did before she had the baby and is as glamorous as I will ever dream to be. I’m positive she’ll be going to L.A. Fashion Week, too. The closest thing to a fashion show that I will be experiencing any time soon is Carter’s big Spring Sale. And I’m OK with that. In fact, if my days are filled with claps and grins and hugs, then I’m beyond OK with that (albeit a little not-so-secretly jealous).

8 Signs You’ve Entered into Parenthood

I’ve caught myself having an “Oh shit, I totally made you,” moment while staring at my little one quite often in the last eight months. But, as if the tiny person that clings to us and requires help 24-7 wasn’t enough, here are eight more signs that we’ve entered the unending, life-changing condition that we call “Parenthood.”

1. We’re somewhat alarmingly infatuated with another person’s bodily functions. Never in our lives has someone else’s constipation or consequent bowel movements had the ability to excite, shock, and worry us all at the same time.

2. We create a theme song for everything. For example, our household’s personal favorite – “The Poop Song,” which goes something like this (ahem): “P-O-O-P, Gotta push it out of the tushie!” Or even “The Food Song:” “Open up your mouth real wide, and let me put the food inside.” It’s ridiculous and almost scary how quickly we can come up with a verse about the most trivial of topics.

3. We catch ourselves checking out other people’s strollers more than their cars.

4. Our clothing is a magnet for stains. Said stains either result from our baby’s bodily functions, or our own inability to get food into our mouths. Either way, we never seem to notice until someone else points it out. Lovely.

5. One of the very best side effects of being a parent is that it becomes incredibly easy to laugh. For example, when my child giggles uncontrollably at the ball she just threw, I can’t help but join in. I used to pride myself on having a rather intellectually advanced sense of humor. Well, not anymore. Nothing is funnier than anything our baby finds funny.

6. Movies take hours to watch. And I’m not talking about the regular 1.5 – 2 hours. I’m talking 5+ hours. There is absolutely no way to control the amount of times the pause button is hit.

7. We have somehow developed what I call “parent-like reflexes.” Once our little one reaches the phase where everything in his or her grasp is fair game, our reaction time whittles itself down to virtually nothing. Out of the corner of our eye we may spot our child tipping a water glass over several feet from us, but somehow we make it there in time to keep the cup full and our baby dry. I still can’t figure out how this happened, but I am uber thankful that it has.

8. Finally, we often consider taking Dramamine on a regular basis because the world NEVER. STOPS. SWAYING. Oh wait… that’s us. Yes, even when our precious baby is not cradled in our arms, our body is still rocking. I’ve even caught myself standing around, moving from side to side when our daughter is home with a babysitter. Hello, motion sickness.

11 Things Every Parent Learns the Hard Way

No matter what advice you’re given (and we all know everyone has a plethora of tidbits to share once they find out you’re pregnant), some things are just destined to be learned the hard way:

1. Do NOT dress your baby in that adorable party outfit you chose months ago until RIGHT before the event. It’s incredibly hard to resist the urge to play photographer and capture their adorableness pre-party, but you know three minutes into your photoshoot, the diaper (and consequently the outfit) will be soiled (literally). The worst is when the outfit of choice has been ruined AND you’re late to said event because you were too busy cleaning up a poop explosion.

2. Meal time is not really meal time once you have kids. It is now “shove-food-in-my-mouth-while-standing-and-rocking” time. To add to that, another little gem I learned the hard way: babies don’t even get it on your birthday. They don’t know that you’ve been hankering for a feast of crab and mac ‘n’ cheese; all they know is that you’re sitting next to them, arms deep in a pile of food that they either want, or want to pull you away from. So, enjoy every bite you can shovel into your mouth. Oh, and learn to lift ‘n’ swap your kid high enough over the table so that their socks don’t sweep up morsels.

3. No high-tech expensive toy can stand up to a gadget made from something that didn’t start its life off as a toy. You can spend hundreds on the latest and greatest electronic doo-dad, but all your kid is going to want is a spoon and an upside-down Tupperware container. Or the string of your hoody. Or the toe of their sock. Really, anything but the toy you just bought them.

4. Bed time is in their hands. Even if you create a routine, your sleep (the time & depth of it) is totally dictated by this tiny, little person. Even if you “sleep while they sleep” (which is an age old gem everyone loves to share), the slightest whimper resonating from that monitor can wake you from the deepest of slumbers. Believe us when we say, sleep becomes priceless, a hot commodity. Along those lines, long gone are the days of being sad that you’ve missed out on an event. If your attendance is replaced by sleep, those moments are not wasted.

5. You know what else is a hot commodity? Showers. Abs. Makeup. Haircuts. Spit-up free clothing. Hell, anything even remotely glamorous. And by glamour, we mean anything that allows you to do something solely for yourself and not for the little munchkin that has infiltrated your life. All of these aforementioned activities have now become for the either childless people or for your never-ending to-do list.

6. Sure, “date night” is important. But sometimes, “sit there and stare at the TV in silence night” is important too. Props to you – you’ve just spent an entire day juggling, dancing, singing, cleaning poop, and conversing with someone that doesn’t do any of those for you in return. Your voice, feet, neck, and back hurt. In this moment, nothing but a little “Orange is the New Black” and a beer sounds good. So, veg. You deserve it. If your partner wants to veg with you, awesome. If they want to watch something else, chances are you’re already saving up for another TV.

7. Even though you may resolve to cook, save more money, and buy more groceries, oftentimes you just can’t. That song and dance I mentioned earlier really takes it out of you. You’re damn tired by the end of the day and slaving over a hot stove is the last thing you feel like doing, especially during a sweaty ass January evening in Los Angeles. Soon, your planned meals become pre-packaged and microwaveable (which is even better than I can pull together). Before you know it, your recipes become so short, they’re as simple as dialing up your local Chinese restaurant for delivery. We all know there are worse things in life.

8. As much as we thought our child would not, could NOT be that snotty, dirty Linus-looking being, they are. It’s inevitable. Children are an unending source of snot, poop, mayhem, and mess. You can fight it, but as soon as you swipe that booger away, you know there’s a new one in its place. Just accept that it’s going to happen, and clean them as much as they will allow you to, until its their job to clean it. Then celebrate.

9. Asking other parents when their children met milestones is a slippery, dangerous slope. We hear that every child meets said milestones at a different pace, but it never stops us from asking, “Oh, does he/she sit up yet? Are they speaking? Do they roll over?” Half the time we’re either waiting to hear “no” so we don’t feel like our child is the only who can’t, or we’re looking for a time to brag. My husband calls this Neener-Neener-Neener, My Kid Has a Bigger Weiner Syndrome. The only thing it does is help us compare our kids. And we all know, no one compares to your little one!

10. It often annoys our childless friends to see our Facebook posts/pictures/videos about our kids or the topic of being a parent. They may mention it to us or they may post a passive aggressive status update about how their feed is filled with babies. What they don’t understand is that, yes, every smile, giggle, “goo goo,” and “gah gah” is worth sharing. In fact, even as I type, I’ve taken a few pictures of my little one who is sitting next to me, smiling and babbling to her plastic ball. See? I couldn’t even help sharing that. Watching a human being grow is freaking rad. And it’s even cooler when you take into consideration that your bodies manufactured this one. Memo to those annoyed: skip past our posts if you feel you must. Just know we’ll share in your joy if and when you post your own.

11. Parenthood is the hardest, most unnerving job in the world, but very little is more fulfilling and heartwarming. It’s a rollercoaster of love, happiness, worry, and anxiety. As the movie “Parenthood” explains, “[it’s] just so interesting to [us] that a ride could make [us] so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some [don’t] like it. They [ride] the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. [We] like the roller coaster. You get more out of it.”