Motherhood

My mom has been visiting for the past 2 weeks and it’s been wonderful.  Today she leaves and I’m up bright and early so as not to miss a minute of her company.  Perhaps it’s been hanging around my friend the Giant Panda, the pregnant woman who can be seen from space, but motherhood is suddenly looking much different to me.

Mom and I have a habit of doing a lot when we get together.  It’s one of the reasons we travel so well; neither of us ever gets tired.  With my husband on the other hand, I take breaks, stop to eat meals, and get a “Please, no more!” every so often.  When mom and I go-go-go we awake with the chickens, snub our noses at any food that can’t be eaten while simultaneously walking, and don’t stop until there’s smoke coming from the bottom of our feet.  Plus, she likes to eat chocolate as much as I do.

I’m no angel despite all outward appearances.  Amazingly, my mom loves me messy hair and all.  In fact, she even loves me when I ask her to make me eggs or to help me do the laundry.  Who loves that???  So what is the secret…was it the 9 months of lugging me around without seeing her ankles?  Or the 6 months after that of sleepless nights and droopy bosoms?  I’m working on solving this riddle, but in the meantime, it seems clear that we’re not the only ones.  There’s something special between a mommy and her baby and I’ll miss mine until she visits again.

Giant Panda Wins the Lottery

Yesterday, my friend the Giant Panda, aka the largest pregnant woman this side of the Mississippi, had her very first baby shower.  Wow.  No wonder people have babies.  Finally it’s all making sense.

Let me begin by saying that the Panda’s friends (who I don’t know well, but whom I will be cultivating my own friendships with posthaste due to purely nefarious and selfish reasons) are stupendous…and creative…and artistic…and very very detail oriented.  I walked with Panda into an oasis of white lanterns, white flowers, white cupcakes, and white be-robed guests.  I looked everywhere for the sacrificial goat, but to my dismay, no blood was in sight.  Instead, a cradle overflowing with gifts and balloons and smushy stuffed animals greeted my eyes.  Lucky lucky pregnant Panda.

The music for this thing called a baby shower was like taking a step back into the 1960’s and it was groovy and happy and fun.  The Giant Panda opened gifts to the heavy beat of rock ‘n’ roll when rock was having it’s own baby.  In between bites of cheese and cupcake I looked around and noticed that all of the ladies in white were wearing corsages made up of tiny infant socks.  Who thinks of details like that?

Here are some shots of the shower that I think might give a clue as to how truly amazing this party was for a baby who’s not even born yet.  Lucky baby.  Lucky Giant Panda!

Knight, Vampires, and Fire

The summer movies have begun and no one is more excited than my friend, the Giant Panda aka the baby maker.  Sitting for two hours in the dark without going to the bathroom – hard.  Sitting for two hours with the phone turned off, her feet up, and the air conditioning pumping through her very pregnant hair – pure bliss.  Tomorrow I have promised to accompany her to see Tom “there’s an alien inside of me” Cruise’s new movie, Knight and Day where nobody plays Knight and nobody plays Day.  Confusing, right?  You thought Cruise was Knight and Cameron Diaz was Day?  Me too.  You’ll notice please that all of the billboards and movie ads have whited-out Cruise’s handsome mug.  Rumors circulate that that was done to increase ticket sales.  The powers to be thought that (considering Tom’s lack of popularity) people would be more likely to come see the movie if they temporarily forgot he was the star.  Who comes up with these things?

On Wednesday, Eclipse the next Twilight movie hits the theaters and tweens everywhere are freaking out.  In downtown L.A. die-hards have already been camping out for days to catch a peek of their favorite vampire or werewolf at the upcoming premiere.  I’m not here to judge, but there’s no way I’d spend a week of my life camping in downtown L.A. when my only reward was a possible glimpse of an actor.  A week on a desert island with hunky Robert Pattinson, a full-time masseuse, and magic sunblock that makes me look like Halle Berry in a bikini…now that might tempt me.

And about a week later, right after the 4th of July, The Girl Who Played With Fire comes to the States.  The dark sequel to The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, this next installment promises to be just as nasty as the first.  For those who have read through the three book series, you’ll remember that ‘Fire’ was the fastest page turner of them all.  This is the one where the Swedish caca really hits the fan and the secrets of our protagonist, Lisbeth Salander finally come to light.  The Panda and I are most excited for this film.  We’re huge fans of the Swedish series and can’t believe the American movie industry is making a knock-off.  (IMDB)  Really?  Really???

So get yourself to the gym asap because it’s time to eat popcorn and drink Raisinets.  Summer movies are here and eek!  I’m excited.

Male Pregnancy (or at least faking it)

couvade \koo-VAHD\, noun:  A practice in certain cultures in which the husband of a woman in labor takes to his bed as though he were bearing the child.

The thing is, he isn’t is he?  In labor I mean.  He can take to his bed all he wants and it’s not going to make one iota of difference to the poor woman in the room next door.  Someone is pushing a pineapple out of her body and it’s not the guy taking the couvade.  He’s probably napping or watching Nascar under the covers.  Couvade my <blank>.  What a crock of baloney.

Unless of course you’re that incredibly unusual woman who got a sex change, became a man, but kept your reproductive organs.  Thomas Beatie, the first guy/girl/transgender person to ever become pregnant, made the news back in 2008 when he gave birth as a man.  Beatie had a little girl…and then a boy a year later…and is now expecting his 3rd child.  He’s a veritable baby factory.

The trend seems to be catching.  Scott Moore, another transgender man, just gave birth this past March.  Moore and his partner were both women in their past lives and already have two children from previous relationships.  This is their first pregnancy however.  Both transgender pregnant men are from the United States.  No cases of male pregnancy have been reported elsewhere.

Seems to me that taking a couvade just wasn’t enough.  Some men weren’t satisfied with merely lying around in bed pretending to be pregnant, they want to actually be pregnant.  For those men I ask, ‘Are you nuts?  Take the couvade!’  I mean come on, being in bed as if you were in labor versus hours and hours of excruciating pain and discomfort because you actually are in labor.  Uh…am I missing something?  How about pretending to be in a car crash versus being in a car crash?  Or better yet, taking to your bed as if you just got shot in the head versus getting one to the temple with a Magnum 48.  This seems like a no brainer to me.

So men, learn this word – couvade.  Take the nap, not the pregnant.

The Bachelorette, Season Whatever

So I have a confession to make, my pregnant friend has gotten me addicted to the Bachelorette.  I guess I just feel sorry for how rotund and immobile she is these days, but I find myself sitting next to her on the sofa watching the program and trying to tune out Sam’s sarcastic comments about what a stupid, stupid program it is.  It’s not stupid.  Okay, it is stupid, but it’s still entertaining.

This week Casey, a guy from east bumble-bleap, California who sounds as if he’s talking through Darth Vader’s mask (seriously, the guy has the weirdest voice), went on a date with the bachelorette.  Her name is Ali Fedotowsky (with a name like that no wonder she wants to get married) and she’s your very cute, girl-next-door.  Casey is smitten with her and in an act of “pure love” went to a random tattoo parlor in NYC and got himself inked forever.  Forever.  FOREVER.  You see what I’m saying here?  The guy got himself tattooed f-o-r-e-v-e-r.

Thus far, Ali doesn’t know she’s got a live one on her hands and so wacko Casey is still on the scene, tattoo and all.  But there’s also Rated-R, the amateur wrestler, and whats-his-face, the neurotic weatherman, so at least he’s in good company.  But seriously, what kind of idiot (excuse my french) gets himself tattooed on a reality television show over a girl he barely knows?  I love it.  Bring on the crazy.

What People Do In Their Cars

Yesterday evening I was out walking my dog when I saw a man in a black Mercedes driving past me.  I noticed him in particular because I could tell by his driving that he was distracted.  Upon closer inspection I saw that he was looking at himself in the rear-view mirror and shaving.  Yes, shaving.  Driving while shaving, that’s a new one for me.

In my years on this place called Earth I’ve seen people do a lot of strange things while driving.  Heck, I’ve done a few of them myself.  Somehow we all think our cars are like invisible bubbles and while we can see out, no one can see in.  Truth?  Just because we’re alone in the car doesn’t mean we’re alone.  Stop picking your nose, guy in front of me!  I can see you.

My own mother used to apply her mascara on the way to work when I was a child.  I have another friend whose name I won’t mention, who likes to pluck her chin hairs because (and I quote) “the light is better.”  The light might be better, but boy is that gross to watch.  Someone else I know uses his vanity mirror to investigate and squeeze pimples.  Another major gross out.  Years ago I had a bad habit of reading while in the car.  Thank goodness someone turned me onto books on tape.  After college I had a girlfriend who was shocked to see a man wangling and dangling in his car.  People change their clothes while driving, eat while driving, and do their nails while driving.  Some folks even do naughty bedroom activities to one another while driving.  Talking on the phone by this point seems anticlimactic.  Who cares about breaking the law with a few cell phone minutes when compared to the guy I saw smoking a bowl at Santa Monica and Doheny?  Doing drugs while driving – now’s there’s a great idea.

The point is, if it can be thought of, someone has probably done it while driving.  Now don’t you feel safer already?

Stories I Found On the Internet About What People Have Seen While Driving

• man playing a trumpet while driving
• person wearing a pumpkin on his/her head while driving (viewer couldn’t tell sex of pumpkin head)
• woman washing inside of window with Windex while driving
• man working on his laptop while driving
• woman painting her toenails out the window while driving
• man driving his car from the passenger seat
• man had an easel set up in the passenger seat and was painting while driving
• woman who was knitting while driving
• minivan with a kiddie’s swimming pool on the roof and a kid in it – driver had one arm out of window holding onto it (and yes, the van was moving)
• woman driving in the nude
• man looking through binoculars while driving
• woman curling her hair with a curling iron while driving
• woman nursing baby while driving
• woman changing a diaper while driving
• man brushing his teeth while driving
• man shaving his head while driving
• woman clipping coupons while driving
• man leaning out window to look at his rear tire while driving
• man putting eye drops in while driving
• man playing guitar while driving
• woman doing crossword puzzle while driving

(courtesy of 'Unbelievable Tales of Distracted Driving')

Get Your Own Talk Show!

Oprah is looking for the next big thing and YOU could be it!  I could be it!  My two dogs could get together, round up some friends from the dog park, teach us why it’s so darn hard to train them, and be it!  (now that would be a great show)

Here’s the link: Oprah’s New Reality Talk Show

All you have to do is A) come up with an idea <I have one! I have one!>  B) get someone to video you pitching your idea in 3 minutes or less <huh.  I need more unemployed friends>  and C) get a million people to vote for you before the contest expires at 11:59 PST on June 26th.  <woosh – and there goes the dream>

In my fantasy, I get the job and spend my days talking and talking and talking…and everybody has to listen!  How great is that?  It’s almost as good as my fantasy of being a radio DJ, which has been renewed since watching the movie Pirate Radio last week.  I was at a dinner party recently where I met someone who worked for KCRW, the local National Public Radio station.  I immediately broached him about getting on the air, becoming a talk show host, saving the world, and stopping world hunger.  Strangely the number he gave me has been disconnected.

Best of luck to those of you who enter and Oprah, if you’re listening?  I’ve got a really good idea and I’m very photogenic (see below)

Look One:

Posh Spice – the paparazzi will love this look.  Maybe they’ll even think I just got out of rehab / prison / a motorcycle gang.  All of these things are very popular these days.

Look Two:

Office Spice – this can be work look, my serious side.  The fans will know I’m ready to open a can of whoop ass when they see me strolling into the studio looking like this.  Maybe I’ll even get a Nobel Prize for intellectual activity or whatever it is that Obama did to get his.   Or not.  Who knows right?  (see? I even do modesty well)

The point is, call me!!!

Hottest New Handbag

Should you wake up this morning with a burning desire to Google search ‘hottest new handbag’ several websites would pop up.  Purseblog.com (actually seems to be a shared site dedicated to purses the writer must have and Real Housewives reality drama), The Bag Blog (can’t say I like the taste of this one too much), Bag Snob (the name says it all), and  Handbag Go (kind of like an A-Z dictionary of handbags) are just some of the links that pop up.

Now you might be asking yourself, ‘Why would one ever type in such a thing?‘  Well, I’ll tell you why.  One day you might find yourself thinking you want a new bag – neigh, need a new bag – but have no idea what kind of bag your little heart desires.  There will be options, many many options.  And you will get much cardio by hitting the streets and browsing from store to store.  But you will not find the bag that makes your heart scream, your legs quiver or your mouth mew.  And so, ladies and gentleman, you will find yourself typing in a Google search for ‘hottest new handbag’ in the hopes of seeing something you’ve never seen before.

When that day comes.  When that moment arises when you don’t want what everyone else has, but something new, something bold, something different, think of me.  I have explored this country before and I know all of its crags and valleys.  Beware of the logo, the fringe, and the metal detailing…and remember, there is nothing more tacky then denim.  It’s goes on your rear and your legs, not your arm.

Dog Juvie

Hank is home from “camp” aka Dog Juvie aka Rehab.  And so it’s a circus in our home once again.

David Roe from the Blue Dog Ranch in Burbank, California is a man who has a way with dogs.  Left, right, sit, down – Hank was responding to his commands like a well-tuned violin.  We rubbed our eyes and blinked.  It was like watching Santa Claus come down the chimney.  Was this our Hank?

David, Sam, and I worked with Hank at our home until about 10pm on Saturday night.  Not what I would call a hot date night, but it needed to be done.  We learned greeting techniques and play rules.  We learned that everything we used to do was out and everything we’d never done before was in.  No more playing it cool with Hank; he was either “on the clock” or off.  When he was on the clock we were working.  Sit, down, come – Hank now does these commands for hours on end no matter what distraction is thrown in his way.  He’s on the job and he’s ready to work.  Nothing can distract him and he knows all of our ruses.  “Down,” we say and walk away.  We go outside, ring the doorbell, bang on the windows, and push over trashcans.  We come back inside and he’s exactly where we left him, waiting patiently for his food.  I can almost see him rolling his eyes at us.  “That old trick again?”

Today he’s in his tank, resting until it’s time for him to go to work again.  He’s got his beef marrow bone from Whole Foods, his chubba wubba, and his…oh no.  He’s barking.  I knew it was too good to be true.

Baby Presents

Last night I was hanging out with my dear friend, that boring pregnant gal, when she dragged out a series of large boxes.

“What’s that?”  I asked her curiously.

“Presents!”  She said warmly and I was touched beyond belief.   She had gotten me something as a thank you for spending so much time with her while she was stuck in this rotund state of dullsville/baby-making.

“Oh!  You shouldn’t have.”  I said as I reached eagerly for the first box.

She tilted her head at me.  “They’re not for you.  They’re for the baby.”

Seems to be, people were sending her presents for the baby and she had waited to open them until I came over.  Something about sharing the excitement.  Well she may have been bouncing in her seat (She really was actually.  I’ve never seen her so over the moon), but opening a bunch of baby presents didn’t seem like something to have a freak attack over.

One by one she carefully untied the ribbons and pealed back the wrapping paper.  The first box had a stuffed lamb inside that played nature sounds.  Not something I would want, but pretty darn cute I had to admit.  The second box had a walkie-talkie system that she couldn’t wait to set up in the baby’s room.  I didn’t want to tell her that babies didn’t really talk much at first and that she was just setting herself up for disappointment.  I mean come on, have you ever heard of a baby using a walkie-talkie?  But I kept my lips shut and just nodded.  Poor thing was deluded.

And finally we came to the biggest box of them all.  Maybe this one would be something useful like a Louis Vuitton suitcase or a new deluxe coffee maker.  Imagine my surprise when my friend pulled out some sort of milking device and screamed.  I grabbed the box and looked at the picture.  Then I screamed too.  It was terrifying!

“Oh my god.”  My friend kept saying over and over again.  “I needed this!”

I did a double take.  She wasn’t horrified?  Alarmed?  Disgusted?  “You wanted this?”

“Yes!”  She nodded her chubby face vigorously.  “It’s the best pump on the market.  It’s going to be great.”

I looked at the picture again of a  cow woman using this strange milking machine.  Huh.

I’m not sure what all this baby stuff is that my friend is so excited about, but if it were my child, I’d register for something that I could really use rather than a torture device for your breasts.

10 Things I could Really Use Right Now (in no particular order):

1. a massage
2. a car wash
3. new pajamas
4. a chicken sandwich
5. sneakers
6. a good shave (my legs are like Sasquatch’s these days)
7. a beach house
8. lip gloss that stays on
9. a pack of gum
10. and money to send my kid to college (see? I’m not totally selfish)