When I’m not grocery shopping, I’m looking for a part-time mother’s helper for a couple afternoons a week. Part-time help constantly turns over so I’ve gotten used to the process of looking for someone new.
We interviewed our first candidate this week and we asked the normal questions…
What kind of babysitting have you done?
What do you like about spending time with kids?
Are you reliable?
Would you be willing to fold kids’ laundry and help clean up after dinner?
How would you describe your personality?
Do you think People Magazine should have really named Gwyneth Paltrow the “Most Beautiful Woman in the World?”
This candidate was very sweet and said all the right things and then we said goodbye.
At which point, I realized I never once asked about infant experience. Nothing.
I AM HAVING A BABY IN 3 WEEKS.
Isn’t that the kind of thing that should stick in my head?
I mean, at least above Gwyneth Paltrow.
I’m really irritated with actress Reese Witherspoon.
You would think at a time when we are still all reeling from the Boston terror attack, the deadly Texas explosion, a Senate that seems to have zero willpower, a President who can’t seem to make a deal in his 2nd term (how about some old fashioned arm twisting), drastic across the board budget cuts that are causing air delays and other problems, a fake tweet that caused the stock market to plunge 143 points, a Jodi Arias trial that never seems to end, and a show staring Ryan Lochte where he apparently refers to his “entourage” as his “Lochterage”….
That at least Witherspoon would be a beacon of dignity and light in this crazy, messed up world.
After her husband Jim Toth was pulled over for a DUI, this is what she had to say to the officer…
Witherspoon: “Do you know my name?”
Trooper First Class James Pyland: “No, I don’t need to know your name — right now.”
Witherspoon: “You’re about to find out who I am.”
Really Miss Sweet Home Alabama?! The celebrity card?! Josh Lucas must be so disappointed. I thought Reese was better than that. Even though I’ve never met her or known anyone who has met her or even had a dream where I’ve met her. But somehow she just seemed nice.
Sweet Home Alabama is one of my all time fave movies and now I will have to watch it under the dark shadow of celebrity entitlement.
I’ve watched a few old movies lately like About Last Night starring Rob Lowe who is super hot and Demi Moore who wears really big sweaters.
I have watched this cheesy but somehow addictive movie like a million times and I still don’t get this quote at the end…
Demi Moore: “Maybe we were just too naive.”
Rob Lowe: “Maybe we knew too much. – That, too.”
Demi: “But how can you be against freedom? Freedom’s good.”
Rob: “You have to believe in something.”
Demi: “I want you to know that when we were together … I was really happy.”
What the heck are they talking about?! What does freedom have to do with being naive but somehow also knowing too much in a relationship. Honestly, it sounds like something Ryan Lochte would tweet to his million plus followers.
“Always reach for the moon cuz if u slip up u will still be a star!! #Jeah”
That’s a real Lochte tweet.
The other day I was at the grocery store because my kids are still into this “eating” hobby.
As I turn into the frozen food aisle, a man approaches and I practically jump out of my skin because you know how evil people always lurk by the frozen pancakes.
“Do you know where I find the Goya Sofrito?” he asks.
I’ve got to stop wearing a Stop & Shop name tag as a brooch.
“Umm… I have no idea. I’m sorry I can’t help you,” I reply.
“I’ve been married for 50 years. My wife will kill me if I tell her I couldn’t find it. She cooks with it all the time,” he replies.
“I really wish I could help you but I have no idea what Goya Sofrito is and it took me 15 minutes to find lemon juice in this mammoth store so I might not be your best hope.”
The poor chap goes on his way and I finish my shopping. And just as the cashier is ringing up my last item, I realize my purse is not in the cart.
Where is it?!
The man in the frozen food aisle! He distracted me and then his accomplice grabbed the purse. But now that I think about it, he seemed more confused than crafty and I don’t remember any accomplice or actually bringing my purse into the store.
I explain my predicament to the cashier, apologize to the woman waiting behind me in line and then hoof it to the car as much as I can hoof anywhere 35 weeks pregnant. I open my minivan and I immediately find…. no purse.
This is a problem.
I run back inside the store and explain this awkward “no money” thing, assuming that they will let me pay them in compliments because there is no way I’m abandoning all these groceries and coming back to start over.
But the employees seem to have their hearts set on actual money and simply put my groceries aside until I can come up with cash.
I call my husband and thankfully confirm that my purse is sitting on the kitchen table. I tell him that he needs to come to the grocery store as soon as possible.
He swings by with a credit card, I pay for my food and then I immediately turn around and see a friend from school.
“Man, I needed you 20 minutes ago! I would have forced you to pay for all my groceries,” I explain.
She is obviously depressed to have missed out on this unique opportunity but I head home before she can really communicate her upset.
Now I hate to think that this all occurred because I have that so-called pregnancy brain because it sort of irks me that pregnant women are always painted as so dimwitted.
My point is, this is not about me being pregnant because I’ve done plenty of dumb things when I wasn’t knocked up.
mama bird notes:
Still not a mama bird diaries fan on Facebook? Became a Facebook fan before you miss out on my review of, About Last Night. I just watched the movie again and I think Demi Moore and Rob Lowe are going to be big stars.
This is such a painful week. With the Boston Marathon. Gun background checks defeated. The Texas explosion. Is the world suddenly more cruel?!
Which is why we have to seek out the light.
Like my father turning 70.
I promised him it’s not old. You’re not really old until you turn 80. I mean, when I was in my teens, I thought 40 was super insane old. But I’ve done some careful recalculations since then and I now realize that 80 is truly old.
So 70 is not ancient at all.
But then around 11:30 PM on the eve of his birthday, my dad mistakenly squirted ear solution into his eyes because he thought it was his eye drops which meant he spent the first two hours of his birthday at the hospital.
Okay, he might be a little old.
But he’s our old guy…
Speaking of birthdays, 8-year-old Dylan proposed to 6-year-old Summer that they pool their birthday money this year so they could put a bathroom in their bedroom.
I was immediately thrilled that such a financial windfall was coming their way and that we would soon have an additional bathroom in the house.
But Summer didn’t go for it. She said, she didn’t mind walking across the hall and she’d rather spend her money on key chains. So it seems like that home improvement project is on the back burner.
Comments have been turned off on this post. Someone has been leaving nasty comments on my blog and it’s exhausting me. I encourage this person to use their energy elsewhere, like picking wild flowers, sipping mint lemonade or taking a walk at sunset. All things that may bring immediate happiness.
My 8-year-old daughter asked me about the Boston Marathon. I hadn’t mentioned it to her. In fact, I had carefully tucked the New York Post away so that none of my children would see the chilling cover photo.
But several of her friends had parents who ran in the marathon and at school, she learned about the explosions. And the bombs. And people who were hurt.
I tried to be as honest as possible without saying too much. My 6-year-old (who was listening) wanted to know the definition of a bomb. I did my best.
I tried to explain the tragedy as simply as possible. Of course, it’s impossible to really explain something I don’t understand myself. I told them there are a few bad people in the world but most of us are very good and will do anything to help a stranger in need.
“There are only two bad people in the world? You said a few. Isn’t that two?” my 6-year-old asked.
“There are more than two bad people,” I explained. “But there will always be so many more good people. That is what is beautiful about this world. We have to focus on all the good people.”
And I admitted that yes, people were badly injured.
I didn’t mention any deaths.
I didn’t mention a loving 29-year-old girl, a Chinese graduate student or a beloved 8-year-old boy named Martin Richard.
An 8-year-old boy who I am certain had a best friend, probably loved dessert and was thrilled to have the day off to watch the Boston Marathon.
I couldn’t bear to mention him.