My mother has been terribly concerned about my well being.
She is worried that I may be suffering from some kind of “post election withdrawal” like this girl.
I assured her that I am completely fine.
But now, I think, she worries that I am suffering from “post election withdrawal denial.”
A slightly different but still serious disorder. I’m totally not. Seriously, I’m not.
I am actually feeling very hopeful and calm these days.
Except at the supermarket.
Because as you might remember, my daughter has a pension for pooping at the grocery store.
Every single week at Whole Foods, Dylan announces that she has to poop.
And it’s always at the hot prepared foods section.
Why is that exactly?!
So I have to immediately get a Whole Foods employee to escort us to the bathroom in the back, do the whole pooping production with Dylan and then convince Summer that yes, she truly does want to be buckled back into the shopping cart. And as Summer whimpers, it’s back to the hot prepared foods section to finish our order.
At this point, we’ve gone to the bathroom so many times at Whole Foods, that I try to seek out new employees to escort us to the back. What if the workers start to think that I have some kind of weird disorder where I won’t let my kids poop at home?
And why doesn’t Whole Foods in Chelsea have a normal, public bathroom? You know, one you can visit WITHOUT AN ESCORT.
Once, I actually revolted against the Whole Foods buddy system and went back there without my fancy escort and they totally yelled at me.
Look, I don’t need that kind of grief. I’m just trying to buy some organic, locally grown, trade free, guilt free, plastic bag free, environmentally friendly, paraben free, SPF 30 groceries. Hmm… I think that’s the Whole Foods promise. Something like that anyway.
So yes mom, as you can see, even without the poll checking, phone banking and campaign obsessing…my life is still full and meaningful.
Really, I promise.
So Rick and I have been kind of, sort of looking at houses OUTSIDE of New York City.
Like in Westchester.
And can you even believe we are considering leaving Manhattan?!
Here I am pretending to be some cool, hip urban mom while secretly scouting out wrap around porches and manicured lawns.
Are you disappointed in me?! Look it’s not a done deal. We’re just looking around. I may not even be funny in the suburbs. I just don’t know.
But let me thank my brilliant, longtime friend Margo who advised me not to name this blog, “The Manhattan Mama Diaries.” I told her I’d be in New York City FOREVER. She said, you never know. That girl is quite a visionary.
Our potential dash to the suburbs is being spurred on by several defining moments.
We have been turned off by the New York City private school application process. At one required “playdate,” the Director of Admissions was just grilling my shy girl Dylan in this really chipper, friendly, relentless way.
So do you have a dog? Did you eat breakfast today? What’s your favorite food? What’s your favorite color? Can you make a snow man out of playdough? Can you count these little plastic bears?
Man, even I was starting to have heart palpitations.
I finally turned to the Director of Admissions and said, “She’s only 4. This is too intense. We’re going to leave.”
Which is a polite way to say…. Get someone else to count your stupid, crappy plastic bears.
And then there was this recent bitter cold, rainy day where I could barely hang on to my umbrella in the crazy gusts of wind, as I tried to maneuver my double stroller through the narrow streets of the west village.
All freakin’ day long.
And then another afternoon, Rick took the girls to the Hudson River Park and both Dylan and Summer started scaling the most perfect, climbing tree.
Until Rick was notified that it’s a $1,000 fine for climbing trees.
Kids should be able to climb trees, right?
So that’s how we ended up somewhere in Larchmont, NY on a Saturday morning.
The town was charming and lovely, with vibrant leaves falling so eloquently, so perfectly – that we started wondering if we’d somehow been transported to an elaborate movie set. But I think it was actually real because I never saw any craft service spreads.
And then another weekend, we found ourselves meandering around Montclair, NJ.
And Dylan, who has a real passion for New York City payphones, seemed to really like the Montclair ones too.
And they must have less germs, don’t you think?
But for now, the suburban payphones and the climbing trees will have to wait.
Dylan is still a city kid.
Enjoying a perfect, glorious fall day here in Manhattan.
mama bird notes:
Don’t forget to enter our Psychobaby giveaway this week. We are giving away the Ugly Dolls Babo’s Bird and the Hey Ugly Icebat Journal. To enter, just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries and mention the word UGLY. Good luck mama birds.
Yesterday I was walking down Bleeker Street and I saw a van make a super speedy left hand turn, almost running into a pedestrian trying to cross the street.
“Hey man, watch where you are going!! I have the right of way you jerk,” the pedestrian yelled.
“You’re a dick,” the driver shouted back.
So I guess the New York City Barack buzz has officially worn off.
Heck, all the smiling, pleasantries and feel good energy between strangers was getting tiresome anyway.
So now that I’m not obsessively phone banking, pouring over polls and stressing like a mad woman, I can actually focus on other issues… like Summer’s tattoos.
Two weeks ago, we went to a princess party and both Dylan and Summer got Cinderella tattoos.
Dylan’s tattoo washed off in about 24 hours.
Summer’s? Still perfectly fixated to her arm after TWO WEEKS. Despite aggressive scrubbing.
Now I didn’t actually see Summer get her tattoos which leads me to believe that maybe they had some actual seedy tattoo parlor in the back room of this so-called “Princess Party.”
And I don’t have a big beef with Cinderella, but I think Summer might start getting ridiculed by her classmates if these suckers don’t come off by middle school.
Nearly 2 year-old Summer seems completely unfazed. Sort of surprising because this is the same girl who changes her shirt and pants about 364 times a day because she has found some kind of imperfection or water droplet. (Did you notice that subtle shout out to Obama’s 364 electoral votes? I’m in political withdrawal people).
Anyway, I just want you to know I’m now focusing 364 percent on my kids. Those days of letting Summer eat her lunch, while standing at the counter in my high heels, just so I can grab a few minutes to check Real Clear Politics, are so over.
Well, this was yesterday. But totally the last time.
mama bird notes;
See if you can find me celebrating the Obama victory on New York Insider TV. Umm…. I might be the one wearing those flashy Obama glasses on my head. Listen, those glasses have a very short shelf life. I mean, how long is it acceptable to go around wearing them post election day?
Are you trying to be a little greener and use less paper towels? I’ve got an idea for you. Click on drooling over this to read more.
A friend has asked for prayers for a 5 year-old boy recently diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. So please send your love and prayers to Max.
Finally, we have a little giveaway this coming week, thanks to a cool site called Psychobaby (funky, fun clothing, accessories and other stuff for newborns to age 8). We are giving away…
Is he ugly and lovable or what?
And the Hey Ugly Icebat Journal
Your little one can write or draw the ugliest monsters ever in this plush journal.
To enter the giveaway… Just leave a comment this week on the mama bird diaries. Try to mention the word UGLY so I know you’re really in love with these guys. Good luck mama birds.
Geez, I told you all he would win.
What were you so stressed about?!
Honestly, I still can’t quite believe it. I was so inspired by President-Elect Obama’s speech last night. This guy gets it. No matter what our differences, we all want to be one, united country.
I thought McCain was enormously gracious and if he had run his campaign more like that concession speech, this would have been a very close race.
I know how you McCain supporters are feeling today. It’s spirit crushing to have your candidate lose. Every time we visit Rick’s relatives in Boca, I still have to suppress the urge to start counting chads from the 2000 race.
But know that voters elected a leader who wants to bring this country together and move it forward. Obama is not interested in celebratory campaign speeches. He’s not interested in sticking it to the Republicans. He’s not interested in a divided America.
As Obama said himself last night, “And to those Americans whose support I have yet to earn – I may not have won your vote, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President too.”
I was going nuts yesterday. Just nervously and optimistically waiting all damn day.
I put on the TV around 5 pm and CNN finally broke in with BREAKING NEWS.
At last…. EXIT POLLING DATA. Exit polling data is like Halloween candy for political junkies.
So they turn to their fancy voter analysis board and here come the numbers….
It looks like 62% of voters care about the economy!
What?! What kind of stupid breaking news is that? Of course, a large percentage of us care about the economy.
I want some projections. Who’s winning this election?!
So then I called my husband Rick at Fox 5 for the inside scoop and he, too, agreed that a lot of people are worried about the economy. I guess he has access to the same polling data as CNN.
Finally, I checked in with my boyfriend Republican Joe Scarborough on MSNBC. At 7:05 pm, he said it’s pretty much over for McCain. Joe wouldn’t lie to me, would he?
And then it finally starts to really happen. Those states started turning blue. The most lovely, amazing, perfect shade of blue.
By this morning, it seemed like a crazy, hazy, impossible dream.
Dylan celebrated by wearing my Obama glasses and her purple swim cap.
Because she always likes to usher in a new era with the appropriate head piece.
And it really is a new era. A time in history where America’s reputation is restored in this world and change is truly possible.
Oh, and breaking news for Joe the plumber. Better go get that plumbing license. Sorry buddy, but you aren’t headed for the White House.