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Rick and I recently joined some friends on a Sunday afternoon for Baby Loves Disco here in New York City. Have you every been to one of these?  Basically you get to drink beer, dance to old Bee Gees and Michael Jackson tunes and watch your kids be happy. Seriously happy. See….

Well, Rick at least looks seriously happy.

Listen, no one invites us to weddings anymore, so we crave us some afternoon drinking and dance floor action.

Basically, Baby Loves Disco transforms night clubs across the country into child-proof discos for weekend dance parties. I’ve thought the idea was brilliant for a long time and often curse myself for not coming up with this genius idea. Or at least figuring out a way to secretly steal it.

Summer and I quickly found our groove.

They also had lots of snacks and drinks for the kiddos. I had never heard of these low sugar, juice drinks from Honest Kids. I’m thinking they should hire Summer as their juice model.

By the way, do you think Summer looks like the young Olsen twins from “Full House?” Because I hear this frequently. In case, you forgot what the great, sassy Michelle Tanner looked like…

Hmmm… maybe I’ll try to turn Summer into a cash producing, media empire like the Olsens. No, that sounds ridiculously exhausting. A juice model sounds like a better goal for a lazy stage mom.

Anyway, back at the disco…

Dylan, who does not like big parties of any kind, was not exactly feeling the dance fever. Where’s Ren McCormack when you need him? C’mon, you don’t have to click. You remember Ren, right?

So Dylan simply refused to take off her jacket and hat for the first TWO hours.

That girl really knows how to commit herself to something.

But eventually, with the help of a bubble machine, even she got into the disco groove…

And so did contributing mama Jordana Bales and her two girls…

On a separate note, if you have been racked with wonder about my weekly trip to Whole Foods…

Yes, we went this week.

Yes, Dylan declared her urgent need to poop.

Yes, she mentioned this in front of the hot prepared foods section.

In a time of economic uncertainty, job instability and an erratic stock market, isn’t it nice that there are some things you can count on? I think so too.

mama bird notes:

In my latest “drooling over this,” you’ll find some sweet, groovy dolls.

And Contributing mama Daphne Biener has a habit of keeping some pretty interesting things in her basement. Is she just sentimental or has this mama gone a bit too far? Click on contributing mamas and weigh in.


So maybe I need to clear something up.

No, I did not duct tape my kids in a corner, as Allison T. suggested, to keep them quiet during my interview with Better TV.  Mostly because I don’t currently have any duct tape in my home.

This is sort of how the interview went at first…

“So are you stressed about the holidays?” asked the producer.

“Well – it does get a bit crazy this time of -”

“Mommy, I can’t find any of the hats for the potato heads. And they need hats,” Dylan interjected.

“New shirt. Need new shirt,” Summer insisted because she likes fresh attire every 23 minutes or so.

“And feet. The potato heads need feet. Can you help me find the feet? Where are the feet?” Dylan continued.

“NEW SHIRT!!!!” Summer whined.

Then they both veered off message and decided to immediately change into princess gowns.  And Dylan chose to be all Britney and go cammando. So I explained to Dylan, “As a general rule of thumb, we try to keep our underwear on when we have guests over.”

And then I put them in front of the TV to watch a little “Sesame Street” while I finished the interview. No duct tape, scotch tape or any other adhesive needed. 21st century parenting in action.

Meanwhile, I’m such an idiot for complaining about Dylan pooping like clockwork at Whole Foods every week. Where was my gratitude?! (Thank you MN Mama for reminding me about gratitude.)

So here’s my newest rule of thumb. Anytime a kid poops in a toilet, you should just be grateful and shut the hell up.

Because yesterday Summer pooped in the tub. Of course, this has happened before. But it never gets any less gross.  So I evacuated the tub, scooped out the poop, cleaned all the toys, scrubbed the tub and then refilled it for Summer and Dylan.

But Dylan was seriously unimpressed with my cleaning efforts.

“I still see poop crumbs,” she said.

But I’m telling you there was not a poop crumb, whatever that is exactly, in sight.

See, now just a few weeks ago, we were all engaged in a spirited debate about the future of this country. And now, I’m blabbering about poop crumbs.

I better go watch Obama on “60 Minutes” and try to pull myself together.

The rest of you, make sure to keep your underwear on if you have guests coming over.

mama bird notes:

Robin S. is the winner of the  Ugly Dolls Babo’s Bird and the Hey Ugly Icebat Journal from Psychobaby! Congrats Robin. Please email your address to Kelcey@mamabirddiaries.com and your ugly winnings will be on their way to you.


So every night Rick and I put the kids to bed by 8 pm and then four minutes later, it’s midnight.

It’s stunning how fast time can go when you’re just peacefully tidying up your home or sacked out on your couch, watching “Gossip Girl” and wondering what is up with Jenny Humphrey’s crazy, Joan Jett inspired eyeliner?!

She used to be so sweet and pretty and innocent.

So each night I promise myself that I will go to bed earlier but, of course, I absolutely never do.

And then I saw this sign in my neighborhood….

Now the solution is so obvious. I don’t need more sleep. Just more caffeine!  Perfect! I can definitely drink more caffeine.  Way more simple than trying to get more rest. I mean, what a waste of time that would be.

Oh wait, maybe I shouldn’t be taking advice from someone who can’t spell “deprivation.”

The person who wrote this can’t exactly be a genius. Or maybe they are just very very tired.

I recently met a gal who seems to have plenty of energy… Marianne Mancusi.  Beth Feldman of Role Mommy connected us.  30-something Mancusi has written 12 books. Wow. I’m starting to think she doesn’t waste her time watching “Gossip Girl” and critiquing Jenny Humphrey’s eyeliner. Although she is currently focusing on teen novels, so maybe she does.

And when she’s not writing, Mancusi is also a producer for BETTER, a national syndicated lifestyle show. She interviewed me about the stress of holiday gifts and tipping during this troubling economic downturn.

Stress?! You want to hear about stress? Well, let me tell you about my daughter’s pooping addiction at Whole Foods. And the school admission process in New York City. And trying to decide whether we should flee to the suburbs. And just trying to keep the kids from destroying the apartment until after this interview. And–

Oh, you don’t want to talk about that? Ok, let’s stick to the holiday season.

I don’t know when the piece is airing but I’ll link to it when it’s available.

By the way, I just heard  Jingle Bells on the radio and Starbucks has transitioned to their festive red cups so I think the holiday season is full on.


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 Jersey.

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.

Per child.

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.

kelcey kintner