I saw Sex and The City 2!

After reading what Rotten Tomatoes has to say, why should I bother telling anyone what I think? The answer is simple: because I have to-I can’t turn my brain off. I also waited until I thought everyone who was going to see the movie saw it before I posted this. I can't not write how I feel about the new movie-it's a girlfriend thing. Let me get the negatives out of the way.

I didn't feel the slapstick comedy of it this go round. What I loved about the thirty minute show was the zany situations they got into that I never could. Now that I live in the north, I know that all four of them made a LOT of money somehow to afford all that they had. Talk about escapism.

No “City”-where was New York? They took a trip to Abu Dhabi. OK fine, it wasn't The Brady Bunch in Hawaii or the Facts of Life Down Under, but still, the title of the show is Sex and The City-which we saw long enough for all of the characters to have their signature meltdowns: Charlotte and her kids, Miranda and her job, Samantha and her age, Carrie and her Mr. Big.

I was really excited about what was going to happen with Aidan. I knew he was coming back and I had all kinds of images in my head about it. Maybe Carrie and Big would run into him with his wife. Maybe they would need a new cabinet and have to order it. But he conveniently just happened to be in the market? Wow I love a good fantasy. I wonder if I kissed an ex, would my husband buy ME a bigger diamond so I would never forget I was married again? I doubt it.

One last criticism. I have studied abroad twice. Both times it was made perfectly clear to me what was and was not acceptable to do in the country. Some of the jokes and situations were pushing it for a Middle Eastern country. There was no way in hell that Carrie's passport was going to be waiting for her in the market where she left it. And Samantha? Well, I'll just leave it with that one word: Samantha.

Now-what I liked. They are best friends. After all these years, the characters are best friends. They dropped what they were doing for each other. If you have ever had good sets of girlfriends in your life, you identify with these scenes. Like after the kiss with Aidan, Carrie rallies all of them together to have a sisterhood type meeting. You know what those are like. I can skype Australia and tweet to a library in Richmond or make an illegal cell phone call driving down a back road in Connecticut to Durham North Carolina if I have to, but I can reach my friends. Females need females to sort out their messes. End of story.

The second part that I liked was the images of motherhood. Although it was over the top, the writers nailed the overwhelming frustration of it. Now, listen up all ladies everywhere. It is very easy to say, "Well, Miranda is a lawyer." or "Charlotte doesn't work and still has a nanny." But, I swear, you CAN’T listen to the “bitter bitches.” Anyone can take someone's sorrow and one up it. Don't do it girl! Any woman has the right to own her feelings.

You know who I am talking about. Let’s use a birthday party as an example. Let’s say you plan a birthday party for your child at one of those gymnastics places. Everything is perfect-and then two kids run into each other and get bloody noses. Then another kid throws up the cake because he doesn’t like the icing. THEN when your child starts opening gifts, instead of smiling and saying “Thank you” he starts making commentary-“I already have two of these.” “This is ugly.” “Didn’t I tell you my favorite color was blue?” So you are about to die and you are telling a group of friends about this later, and one of them rolls her eyes and says “I couldn’t afford to have a birthday party for my child.” Or another one says, “When I was growing up my dad would show up at my parties drunk.” So in other words, they are telling you to get over it because at least you could have a birthday party. Yes, I get that. Believe me I do. BUT- OK yes, those people are right, in the great book of life, we are talking about a party. BUT-you still have the right to grieve for your perfect little birthday party. So, do what Charlotte and Samantha say and “Have a drink.” Don’t drink? Fine-have a cookie, have some loaded cheese fries-whatever but do something bad!!!! Warning: If you are still mad about a birthday party three years later, you don’t have enough to do lady. Volunteer at the food bank or get a part time job.

The scene when Charlotte is trying to make everything perfect and goes and hides in the pantry crying, well, that was pretty accurate. I do not care if she should have had on sweat pants. Yes, she should not have tried to ice red cupcakes in white pants. I don’t care if some of us don’t have a nanny to save us from those outbursts. It was accurate. I’m sure my husband would love a braless cartwheeling nanny-his birthday is coming up.

Yes, it was an atrocious trainwreck as far as film-making is concerned. But I’m glad I went. And you know what? If you were a diehard fan of the show, you will go too. You will go and think about college roommates or your bridge club or those girls you studied abroad with. Or that first group of teachers that you taught with. Or the lunch table you sat at Freshman year of high school. Or your cabin mates from summer camp that one summer everybody bonded. AND THAT is what it is all about. It isn't like you thought you bought a ticket to see The English Patient....

Co-Sleeping = No Sleeping at my house

Co-sleeping, shared sleep, birth control. I don't care what you call it. Kids in your bed. Some of us would rather have bed bugs while some of us can't imagine life without snuggling the cuties while we sleep. You know why? Because when they are asleep, they are NOT whining, fighting, or demanding attention. You can just watch them and think, "ahhhh I love parenthood" before the phone rings and someone else tells you something atrocious one of them did.

We still have a double bed from the grad school years. I can't get rid of it. My friends who seem to prefer to sleep with everyone together have mac daddy king size beds. That is one upgrade I am going to put off a little longer. If the bed were bigger then they would see that as an invitation to join us. Nope.

I have been really slack since March. I have had too much going on during the day to fight what happens at night. The only time I have freaked about it was when I woke up and one of them was in bed with us without me realizing it. How could I possibly have been so tired I didn't notice when another human being not only came into my room but crawled into bed next to me? Motherhood will do it to you. So we were sleeping at night with sometimes three other people in the room with us. Everyone went to sleep in their own room, but made their way into ours. Then I snapped.

About two weeks ago, the older two decided to have an all night party in our room. It was a school night. There was no reason that they would be afraid or anxious and not be able to sleep. I tightened the reins and they are both in their own beds now. If they want to get in with us, the sun needs to be up.

These are the reasons we DON'T co-sleep:

My son sleeps all different ways: his legs are one way and his arms are every which away. He kicks, he squirms. He takes over.

My daughter drags all her stuffed animals into our room and lines them up at the foot of the bed. Like we have an audience. I don't want random animals staring at me while I sleep.

Somebody snores-any of us on any give night. Then everyone wakes up and says there is a monster in the bed. Then they fight over who did it and no one can get back to sleep.

There is the fear someone is going to wet the bed. They don't but they will and it will be our bed and not their own. I wonder, if I was too tired to notice someone climbed in, would I wake up if it was wet or would I dream I was on a tropical island being sprayed by a warm sea mist?

Snacks and crumbs in the bed. We are not a "Breakfast in bed" kind of family. We are a "Eat your breakfast over the sink to avoid crumbs" kind of family.

Enough said.

These were my exceptions: first three months of life-I started to transition to a crib and their own room between three and four months. No one was a colicky baby. No one had any eating issues. No one screamed uncontrollably ever. We were good to go.

Illness is also a reason I would let them sleep with us, except throw up because you can puke in your own bed. Oh-and if one of them brings home head lice they aren't getting in my bed either. (Apologies to childless friends reading this.)

I know there is research. I totally believe in all kinds of research. This is my family list and in no way research. Moreover, my children are older and sneakier. So please, do what works for you as a family and laugh, roll your eyes, or skip my blog if you need to do so. It won't hurt my feelings.


Have fun co-sleeping families. You might rock, but I'm sleeping like one.

Shel Dip 1

Q: "Will I ever have an uneventful year? Even just a month of nothing crazy happening?"
A: "I have been to the land of happy-what a bore!"

I'll take that as a no.....

100 Plays

I am taking a play writing class in July. Why plays? That is a good question. Could it be because I am such an attention seeking melodramatic person? Could it be that I love going to plays and always have? Or could it be that that was the only summer class that fit my schedule and I REALLY want some time to myself that is NOT work? Most likely-a combination of all three. So play writing it is. It could easily have been ceramics or auto mechanics, perhaps even yoga. BUT-since this class fit the times, this was the winner.

Here is where my mega memory kicks in. I haven't taken a writing class since high school- and Crying Daddy was in the same class. Maybe that was when we learned our blogging skills. I doubt it, as it was 1991 and who had ever heard the term blog? Sounds like something you would throw up. That creative writing class was interesting. One girl in it grew up to be an English professor at Vanderbilt. I was lucky enough to sit in front of the guy who wrote country music songs for all of his assignments. There was also another girl who saved all of her money to buy a motorcycle and then she dropped out of school and drove off on it. North Carolina sure was a great place to grow up.

The teacher was a little bit better off than the students. She assigned us a short story to write, but BEFORE we could start to write it, we had to read 100 short stories. Yes, that sounds like a treat to me now, but at the time my sixteen year old self did not want to read 100 short stories when I could have been watching Star Trek the Next Generation on the couch. Does anyone else wish they could go back in time and turn in old assignments? Is that way too nerdy of me?

I sort of get my chance. By the end of this summer class, I will have written a play. Please don't anyone spit their drink out of their nose-but yes, I will have one work written by July 31st-I'll give it to Harry Potter for his birthday. I got inspired from the wisdom of the old teacher and her philosophy. I have set a goal for myself. Before I start the class, I need to read 100 plays! That sounds horrible for a working mom of three, but think about it. Plays are short, plays are fast paced, and plays are designed for a wide range of people to come and enjoy. So I can do this. I have already read four in less than a week. Plays are perfect "mommy reading" because they go so fast.

Here are my first four:

1) Our Town. They did this one on Growing Pains and The Wonder Years. I think my 81 year old grandmother played Emily when she was in high school or college. Yes, it is a popular one because you don't need a lot of scenery. We definitely need to appreciate life while we live it, I get it, I get it!

2) Love Letters. I saw this one in high school, my BFF just went to see it a few weeks ago. I loved it because of its simplicity. You don't even really have to memorize it. Just sit there and read the letters. I also like the Forest Gump/Jenny theme it had going on. You are so used to a "good girl" falling in love with a "bad boy" that when the roles are reversed you pay closer attention.

3) How I Learned To Drive. Ok, this is one of those plays my freshman roommate would have looked at me in horror for suggesting we go see. It was really good, although it dealt with sexual abuse as compared to learning to drive a car and who is and is not in control. Very much a "fun" in dysfunctional kind of performance. Miss Weeds herself Mary-Louise Parker had the lead when it opened!

4) The Mineola Twins. Great play about twin sisters that represent different roles women have in three different decades. The writer is Yale faculty. Wish I could meet her!

As I read them, I'll post more of them here and there in between the grocery store diaries. I only ask that people DO NOT recommend plays to me. I want to pick them on my own-and yes, I am going to include some Shakespeare, Eugene O'Neil, and Tennessee Williams in my list. Must have the big wigs represented.

And IF my play is good enough, I'll make my girlfriends act it out this summer and we'll post it on youtube. Just you wait!

Free Therapy!

Now that I have your attention:

My kids picked Shel Silverstein poems for their bedtime story tonight. Talk about the Children’s Literature Canon! I can’t think of another child’s poet off the top of my head this instant. Who doesn’t have some of his more famous poems memorized? When my kids and I read them, we don’t go in order and we don’t stick to one book. We flip through all three and read them out loud based on the title, the picture, or one of mommy’s memories.

To say Shel was talented is to write one of my bigger understatements of the month. Not only did he give us three volumes of incredible poetry, but how many women get The Giving Tree as a shower gift? That one is definitely on top of the “Good Mommy” list. You know I model my daily comings and goings after that tree. Ha! I would have been chucking apples at that kid’s head to knock some sense in him. You know you need a night off when you shriek at the children, “Sit down and listen mommy read The Giving Tree, you little brats!" I know someone somewhere has felt that way even if I am the only one who is going to fess up.

Reading any of those poems is hysterical and I am going to transcribe some poems with my own children’s interjections eventually. but tonight, I had one of my “Epiphanies.” People don’t need to pay for therapy and some of them could possibly skip a religious service if they just paid attention to Shel.

I thought I would share this scene from "Snowman." He wants to experience all the summer has to offer:

Seasons come and seasons go,

And the greatest ice must crumble

When it’s flowers’ time to grow.

And as one thing is beginning

So another thing must die,

And there’s never been a snowman

Who has ever seen July.

This is my problem. This sums me up. I'm never ready for the next phase of my life when it happens. What do you mean we are moving? What do you mean autism? What do you mean the boys need distance? I want a snowman in July. I have always wanted a snowman in July. I used to wear jeans in the North Carolina summer-you can ask all the kids in the neighborhood that used to tease me about it. Of course now that I live in Connecticut, I might see one in July yet.

I remember in the novel Running with Scissors, Augusten Burroughs talked of "Bible Dipping." That is when you ask a question, flip through the bible, and point anywhere inside it. Then the line you landed on answers your question.

I'm going to try this with Where the Sidewalk Ends and get back to Y'all....

God bless...

1) Friends that will drop what they are doing and pick up your child from school when you are hysterical.
2) Coffee-Starbucks, McDonalds, Instant, whatever...
3) High School Musical and its ability to keep my children engaged when I have to do the bills, the taxes, or any other paperwork that requires my undivided attention.
4) Oatmeal with walnuts, craisins, and a little vanilla yogurt.
5) Last but not least...LITERAL VIDEOS!!! Nothing can make me laugh harder on a bad day. I recommend Total Eclipse of the Heart.

The BEST of the WORST

God laughs at plans-even blog plans. I was planning a "State of the Union of Motherhood" kind of post today and it was going to have people rolling on the floor laughing. As I was working on it-I'm not kidding, the timing was perfect, I got a call from someone to discuss my son's behavior. I don't want to say too much because I don't like to violate anyone's privacy but my own, but he hurt his best friend's feelings and I'm terrified the damage is done. This also means the damage is done between me and this mother-and I considered her one of my best friends in Connecticut. After I hung up with her, I wanted to drop kick him all the way back to North Carolina and be an uber cool "double income no kids" couple again. Actually, I don't think we ever were that couple because we had the kids the minute grad school was over.

Anyway...

I'm sure when she is done reading this, my mom is going to send me an email and rattle off every little thing I ever did to make her look like a fool. Including, but not limited to, the blue dress I wore on May day that was two sizes too small for me and ripped half way around the May pole. There was also the Christmas day I spent in my room for refusing to apologize to my father's sister. (I told her to shut up-and to anyone who knew her, I was a brave little preschooler, wasn't I?) I haven't even gotten into all the damage I did at my house or other people's. I mean come on, so I opened all the Christmas presents at a play date when I was three? Buy gift bags next time...

The other factor is no matter how many adults come and go from someone's life-people turn to mom first. Last summer when my daughter sneaked out the back door there were four adults in the house and all of us thought someone else had her, but when the cops brought her back from a neighbor's house, I was the one they shot daggers at. Ugh....if I had known the police were going to hate me eventually anyway I would have partied harder in high school.

Crap is going to happen no matter how hard you try to keep it going smoothly. Why? Because our kids are humans. Wouldn't it be nice if we could just lug around little cabbage patch dolls that did exactly what we asked? That would wear the clothes we picked out for them? That would say "Yes please" and "Yum, those carrots were delicious, thank you." Every time we served them?

Um, no-where is the fun in that? One of my mottoes for life comes from Woody Allen. Woody says that Comedy = Tragedy + Time. He has no idea how right he is. Time is one thing we definitely have. This is why we parents get our own special days. We need them to recover from the lows that come with it every now and then.

No worries please-I'll save the belly laughs for tomorrow.