So, Lulo is sort of into Christmas this year and along with the story of Mary, Jofef and Baby Jesus he knows that he is getting some presents.
Now, I asked him what he wants and he said: "An Elephant."
What else do you want? An Elephant Tromba. (Tromba is the Portuguese word for "trunk". Two Portuguese nannies and a absentee mother...do the math.)
Anyhow, he wants this because Murray on Sesame Street spent a whole episode wearing an elephant tromba the other day. And Murray's sort of appeared to be made of a rubber band and a vacuum tube. Um, this is all I can find?
If 3 people tell me this is not phallic or frightening, then I will buy it. Speak now before the shipping charges kill me.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Need Further Information
The last time I went to Disneyland was with J before we got married over 6 years ago. My cousin is somehow affiliated with Disney and she gave us tickets as a gift for some pre-wedding festivity, perhaps the bridal shower. Anyhow, we went and it was fine. We were pretty much in agreement that we would never go back unless our future children had somehow been told that there was a place called Disneyland in existence and that they had to go for some homework assignment/field trip.
The funny thing is that I think that this commonality and one other thing that makes me a little strange cemented my relationship with J. Most people have deal breakers and I think my 2 deal breakers would have been (1) a spouse who wanted a season pass to Disneyland and (2) a spouse who wanted to have a dog or animal of any kind living in my house or on my property that I would be required to feed or care for. J basically agrees with this and so when times are rough (and they aren't often), I always think back to these two particular things and love J even more because (1) he'll never ask me if we can get a dog and (2) he'll never take me to Disneyland. I heart him.
Anyhow, I digress, as of late with this Facebook phenomenon whereby you can see everyone's status updates, I have noted that I have a lot of friends who totally LOVE Disneyland. They go at every opportunity. It completely baffles me. Can a Disney lover tell me why they love it? Let me into your world. I want to understand. Long lines abound. It is SO expensive. The food isn't notable. Am I doing something wrong? Where is the happy at the happiest place on earth?
A season pass at Disneyland is $429/person. To go for one day to Disneyland, for my family (excluding the twins because they are still 20 months) it would be $206. $206. I can get an 80 minute massage, a cocktail, and dinner for $206. Ok, that's selfish. The other day I managed to get my kids a HUGE BAG of clothes consisting of what is essentially their entire winter wardrobe for less than $200.
Moreover, I really can't go anywhere with these little people for more than a 3-4 hours or so because then they spontaneously combust with exhaustion and I proceed to combust. So, I would pay $206 for my entire family to disintegrate into tears in less than 4 hours.
Alright, so, I won't get to see the pure joy in the eyes of my children. I would pay $206 for the pure joy in the eyes of my children but is that why you Disney-philes flock there? Because honestly, I can get pure joy at the zoo and the kids almost burst with joy at the aquarium a few weeks ago and it was perfectly doable in a 4 hour block of time without breaking the budget. And then, there are those people who always loved Disneyland - as kids, as adults, pre-kids, post-kids, etc. And they will always completely baffle me. I almost can't imagine any place I would want to be less (excluding jail, underground tunnels trying to cross the border, and traffic school).
I need an explanation. Digame.
The funny thing is that I think that this commonality and one other thing that makes me a little strange cemented my relationship with J. Most people have deal breakers and I think my 2 deal breakers would have been (1) a spouse who wanted a season pass to Disneyland and (2) a spouse who wanted to have a dog or animal of any kind living in my house or on my property that I would be required to feed or care for. J basically agrees with this and so when times are rough (and they aren't often), I always think back to these two particular things and love J even more because (1) he'll never ask me if we can get a dog and (2) he'll never take me to Disneyland. I heart him.
Anyhow, I digress, as of late with this Facebook phenomenon whereby you can see everyone's status updates, I have noted that I have a lot of friends who totally LOVE Disneyland. They go at every opportunity. It completely baffles me. Can a Disney lover tell me why they love it? Let me into your world. I want to understand. Long lines abound. It is SO expensive. The food isn't notable. Am I doing something wrong? Where is the happy at the happiest place on earth?
A season pass at Disneyland is $429/person. To go for one day to Disneyland, for my family (excluding the twins because they are still 20 months) it would be $206. $206. I can get an 80 minute massage, a cocktail, and dinner for $206. Ok, that's selfish. The other day I managed to get my kids a HUGE BAG of clothes consisting of what is essentially their entire winter wardrobe for less than $200.
Moreover, I really can't go anywhere with these little people for more than a 3-4 hours or so because then they spontaneously combust with exhaustion and I proceed to combust. So, I would pay $206 for my entire family to disintegrate into tears in less than 4 hours.
Alright, so, I won't get to see the pure joy in the eyes of my children. I would pay $206 for the pure joy in the eyes of my children but is that why you Disney-philes flock there? Because honestly, I can get pure joy at the zoo and the kids almost burst with joy at the aquarium a few weeks ago and it was perfectly doable in a 4 hour block of time without breaking the budget. And then, there are those people who always loved Disneyland - as kids, as adults, pre-kids, post-kids, etc. And they will always completely baffle me. I almost can't imagine any place I would want to be less (excluding jail, underground tunnels trying to cross the border, and traffic school).
I need an explanation. Digame.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
You Can't Change DNA
Though, I have not been diagnosed as clinically obsessive compulsive, J often jokes about the things that I am extremely anal about and how I need things a certain way. I am getting better now that chaos and Fisher-Price have exploded in my abode. But, we are very routined around here, and in my own existence, things are done the same way, all the time, or I get a little flustered and off.
Examples, the sheets have to be just right so I can sleep. If the sheets are messy in any way, then I will get out of bed and make the bed and then unmake it so I can sleep. J makes fun of me because he says I make the bed in the morning while he is still in it. {Sheepishly, yes, I make my half but otherwise, he doesn't and then I have to look at a mess.} Anyhow, that is beside the point.
When I was a kid, I remember repeatedly getting up out of bed because I was not sure if I had checked the closets for the monsters and The Night Stalker. Closet and then under the bed, maybe 7 times. I use the word kid loosely because I think I just stopped doing this in my 20s.
I also had the same Good Night ritual with my Mom, every single night. I would say the same thing in the same order. And, if she did not respond correct or if I did not hear it, or if I wanted it said again, then I would keep saying it and saying it and saying it. Totally psycho. And yet, my Mother never was like OMG GOOD NIGHT FRIGGEN ALREADY!!!
OK, OCD. So, here is my question. My Lulo is totally like me and you know what, it drives me a little nuts sometimes, makes me laugh other times. Mostly the nuts one. Am I allowed to get annoyed sometimes when he is really just doing what a little me would have done? Is this my genetic curse?
He wants his blankets on a certain way and if I tuck him in a little different, if the satin on one of his blankets is flipped over a little bit. He is like FIX THE BLANKET, FIX IT, FIX IT, FIX IT. And then, his Good Night ritual is the same, he wants to hear it, he wants to hear it the same way every night and he makes me repeat it and repeat it until it is how he wants it. I have a 100 examples of this kind of nonsense. These are just a few that are 100% identical to me.
He is soooo my kid. But, I do not think it is right to get irritated when he really is just me all over again. I mean, come on! He can't help himself, his genetic code is embedded with this anal retentive, weird borderline OCD stuff. I love that kid. He may not look like me, but he is totally me. How did my mother do this?
Examples, the sheets have to be just right so I can sleep. If the sheets are messy in any way, then I will get out of bed and make the bed and then unmake it so I can sleep. J makes fun of me because he says I make the bed in the morning while he is still in it. {Sheepishly, yes, I make my half but otherwise, he doesn't and then I have to look at a mess.} Anyhow, that is beside the point.
When I was a kid, I remember repeatedly getting up out of bed because I was not sure if I had checked the closets for the monsters and The Night Stalker. Closet and then under the bed, maybe 7 times. I use the word kid loosely because I think I just stopped doing this in my 20s.
I also had the same Good Night ritual with my Mom, every single night. I would say the same thing in the same order. And, if she did not respond correct or if I did not hear it, or if I wanted it said again, then I would keep saying it and saying it and saying it. Totally psycho. And yet, my Mother never was like OMG GOOD NIGHT FRIGGEN ALREADY!!!
OK, OCD. So, here is my question. My Lulo is totally like me and you know what, it drives me a little nuts sometimes, makes me laugh other times. Mostly the nuts one. Am I allowed to get annoyed sometimes when he is really just doing what a little me would have done? Is this my genetic curse?
He wants his blankets on a certain way and if I tuck him in a little different, if the satin on one of his blankets is flipped over a little bit. He is like FIX THE BLANKET, FIX IT, FIX IT, FIX IT. And then, his Good Night ritual is the same, he wants to hear it, he wants to hear it the same way every night and he makes me repeat it and repeat it until it is how he wants it. I have a 100 examples of this kind of nonsense. These are just a few that are 100% identical to me.
He is soooo my kid. But, I do not think it is right to get irritated when he really is just me all over again. I mean, come on! He can't help himself, his genetic code is embedded with this anal retentive, weird borderline OCD stuff. I love that kid. He may not look like me, but he is totally me. How did my mother do this?
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Discrimination in the Work Place
I know this is primarily a blog talking about my family and life and stuff. But, I do work. I am an attorney and my husband and I have our own practice specializing in intellectual property. The only reason the area of law is relevant is because this is not Family Law or some area where you may prefer to have a male or female attorney because of some kind of philandering issue or some money grubbing whore issue. Anyhow, the reason I bring this up is because today my Assistant fielded a call from a potential client that I thought was so comical and I am trying to get to the bottom of it.
The man called and said he wanted a "male attorney only." My assistant (a female) asked him what kind of issue this was regarding and he responded "internet law". She told him that the "man" here does not really do internet law and that most of these matters are handled by ME (not a man) and that I am FABULOSA.
He tried to convince her to put him through to the "man." (Seriously, he did.) But she was wise and did not put him through. (A) J would tell him that he does not handle internet matters and (B) on principle alone, GO FIND A MAN ELSEWHERE!!!
This firm was founded by a woman. Look at our WEBSITE (which is where he found us) - 75% WOMEN ATTORNEYS. Figure it out.
And because I am a discriminating a-hole with a middle eastern father who I respect and love dearly even though he'd rather talk to J than me, I asked her if he sounded like an AY-rab. Nope. No accent. And so, it was just some dude who likes dudes. And I don't get it? A porno website? Maybe that is the only thing - lots of tits and ass on the website and so he was like, how can I ask a woman to click the OVER 18 box and look at tits and ass? Just thought this was humorous. A MAN ONLY. A penis is the only thing that could solve his internet issue? Bastard. Hope he finds a MAN who charges him too much and does not pay for his porno subscription. OK, am I wrong here? Seriously, I don't get it. Why call a professional law office and ask for a man? I get wanting a woman gynecologist, I even get wanting a particular sex for a family lawyer, but OUR firm? Seriously? Gimme a break.
The man called and said he wanted a "male attorney only." My assistant (a female) asked him what kind of issue this was regarding and he responded "internet law". She told him that the "man" here does not really do internet law and that most of these matters are handled by ME (not a man) and that I am FABULOSA.
He tried to convince her to put him through to the "man." (Seriously, he did.) But she was wise and did not put him through. (A) J would tell him that he does not handle internet matters and (B) on principle alone, GO FIND A MAN ELSEWHERE!!!
This firm was founded by a woman. Look at our WEBSITE (which is where he found us) - 75% WOMEN ATTORNEYS. Figure it out.
And because I am a discriminating a-hole with a middle eastern father who I respect and love dearly even though he'd rather talk to J than me, I asked her if he sounded like an AY-rab. Nope. No accent. And so, it was just some dude who likes dudes. And I don't get it? A porno website? Maybe that is the only thing - lots of tits and ass on the website and so he was like, how can I ask a woman to click the OVER 18 box and look at tits and ass? Just thought this was humorous. A MAN ONLY. A penis is the only thing that could solve his internet issue? Bastard. Hope he finds a MAN who charges him too much and does not pay for his porno subscription. OK, am I wrong here? Seriously, I don't get it. Why call a professional law office and ask for a man? I get wanting a woman gynecologist, I even get wanting a particular sex for a family lawyer, but OUR firm? Seriously? Gimme a break.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Puzzle Pieces.
20 months ago today, the twins were born after a long hard pregnancy. And so, of course, today on Thanksgiving-eve, I am thankful for a whole boatload of stuff - my family and friends most of all.
But, today, 20 months to the day of their glorious and splendid birth, I am very thankful for the fact after many many attempts over the last several months and a heated session this evening in the garage, J and I finally figured out how to fit the twin stroller AND Lulo's stroller in the trunk of the minivan.
If that is not a marker of success in a marriage and in parenthood, then I don't know what is. Happy Thanksgiving.
But, today, 20 months to the day of their glorious and splendid birth, I am very thankful for the fact after many many attempts over the last several months and a heated session this evening in the garage, J and I finally figured out how to fit the twin stroller AND Lulo's stroller in the trunk of the minivan.
If that is not a marker of success in a marriage and in parenthood, then I don't know what is. Happy Thanksgiving.
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Ex-Nanny Chronicles Part IV: Jane Doe
Before Herpes nanny, we had Jane Doe nanny. And the reason I call her this is not because she died without identification but because I cannot remember her name. She was young, bright eyed, and bushy tailed. She came to an interview all dressed up and just so. Her cousin brought her and she was also one of her references because Jane had been taking care of her kids.
Anyhow, she came on a Sunday night with all her stuff. She loved scrapbooking and took copious notes (like 4 pages worth) on my one page to do list. This should have been a sign. What can you annotate next to "Do Laundry." She had squiggly big letters that reminded me of this girl in high school who used wide ruled paper, took up the ENTIRE line, and dotted her i's with hearts.
Jane came on a Monday, on Tuesday night she locked herself out of the house when she went outside for a walk at midnight, on Wednesday she came into my office crying that she missed her family in New Mexico and was giving her notice...for Friday! She then asked me to help her buy her plane ticket with her paycheck that she had yet to earn on my computer with my credit card.
This story is funny in and of itself but the punch line was when Herpes nanny spent the night in Jane's room the first time. She came up to me and told me that she found a roach in the room.
To which I responded, "HOLY SHIT a roach. Now we have ROACHES. I hate Roaches. Ew, roaches. There is never just one roach. Ew, ROACHES. I hate roaches. We better get an exterminator in here."
To which Herpes Nanny generally responded in the following fashion, "No, Dear Tina from Orange County, not that kind of roach." This kind.
Oh, Jane Doe, let's just call you Pot Smoking Nanny.
Anyhow, she came on a Sunday night with all her stuff. She loved scrapbooking and took copious notes (like 4 pages worth) on my one page to do list. This should have been a sign. What can you annotate next to "Do Laundry." She had squiggly big letters that reminded me of this girl in high school who used wide ruled paper, took up the ENTIRE line, and dotted her i's with hearts.
Jane came on a Monday, on Tuesday night she locked herself out of the house when she went outside for a walk at midnight, on Wednesday she came into my office crying that she missed her family in New Mexico and was giving her notice...for Friday! She then asked me to help her buy her plane ticket with her paycheck that she had yet to earn on my computer with my credit card.
This story is funny in and of itself but the punch line was when Herpes nanny spent the night in Jane's room the first time. She came up to me and told me that she found a roach in the room.
To which I responded, "HOLY SHIT a roach. Now we have ROACHES. I hate Roaches. Ew, roaches. There is never just one roach. Ew, ROACHES. I hate roaches. We better get an exterminator in here."
To which Herpes Nanny generally responded in the following fashion, "No, Dear Tina from Orange County, not that kind of roach." This kind.
Oh, Jane Doe, let's just call you Pot Smoking Nanny.
The Cutest Nose, Evah.
School pictures are a funny thing. My mother, of course, kept all of mine. It is a wonderful little catalog that highlights why I got a nose job and why the 1980's bangs that my Mom called "rooster" bangs were not flattering with my Winnebago nose (aptly termed by the very cruel Joey Termini in 5th grade.) Anyhow, moving along.
My Lulo got back his first school pictures. I picked them up from the front office this morning and everyone was all "Lulo looks SOO cute." Yes, he does, my little bubbs. Kill me now with his cuteness, I want to bite his little head off and kiss him forever. Seriously, I went and sat in my minivan and flipped through the different poses and started balling. He is growing up. He was just in utero and now I have a school picture. And in a few years, he'll have missing teeth, then acne, and hopefully his father's nose and I will be wondering where the time went.
Most of the time, I am really glad they are all getting older. I look forward to mobility and ease and leaving the house without me or one of them having a nervous breakdown. I think that is probably going to happen in the next decade. But, today, in my minivan littered with animal crackers and sippy cups with Baby Einstein music fighting the thoughts in my head, the time felt like it went really fast and I can't believe my oldest has a school picture.
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