family

Weekend with Mommy

~ thedailydish ~ 10 Comments

My weekend in one word:

CHA-CHING!!!!!!!!!!

And in two:

CHA CHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For those of you who are vision impaired, Saturday night I won $738.50 at the Borgata Casino Hotel & Spa on a slot machine. I will NOT tell you which one b/c it is now my secret luckiest winniest machine ever and MINE ALONE. Plus I do NOT want to encourage anyone in the folly that is gambling. Let’s face it folks, you are probably better off going into the bathroom, taking out your wallet and flushing it down the toilet than to try to WIN AT GAMBLING b/c it ain’t gonna happen. EXCEPT FOR ME!!!!!!!! WOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

What a magnificently crazy fun-filled weekend!! Today I am trying to get back into the swing of things, but frankly I’m really not feeling much inclined. And who can blame me? The prospect of laundry and chores, bleech. I haven’t even brushed my teeth yet, and I might not now b/c I AM RICH. I am ready to retire for good. Like my good friend Jim next door who has thrown in the towel after 36 glorious years. And I am not speaking of 36 years of WORK – Oh NO! He is 36 and has decided to retire. B/c THAT is West Philly living and I LOVE IT!

SO where was I?? Oh yes, the weekend was grand. Well to be honest it started out a little shitty, but what else could it be when a sewer line backs up into your basement? Ahhhhh. Nothing like the smell of poop in the morning. Or the afternoon. Cause that’s how long it took us to remedy THAT lil problem. And by US you know of course I mean my beloved husband, b/c he’s the one who had to touch the stuff. YUM-YUM. Here is a photo for your enjoyment:

Look at that hand. He joked that he was going to rinse it in gasoline, but I do not think he actually did. At least not while I was watching. He had to go to the Home Depot and rent a big giant snake. It is a tool for plunging out your sewer line and not the fanged animal of course, though that would have been preferable to the poo. So the weekend’s festivities got off to a bit of a late start, but you can see how Saturday night finished, so who cares. right? My husband is the BEST.

Sunday we took in the last day at the Philadelphia Flower Show. They were not being persnickety about which door you used either, much to my relief. Though of course you had to buy tickets which of course did not come cheap. But that’s o-kay b/c our weekend was ON THE BORGATA. So the flowers were fun, the swarming masses much less so. We ate lunch across the street at the Reading Terminal Market. We had cheesesteaks at Rick’s, which is still there, at least until the court date in June. I had not eaten at Rick’s for quite some time and realized why. No offense to Rick’s, but they are one of the few (if only) Philly cheesesteak joints that 1) don’t chop their meat, which I don’t care for, and 2) offer the “works” aka lettuce & tomato on the steaks. As a Philadelphian I have to say this is weird. I have eaten steaks all my life and have yet, until this weekend, to see hoagie fixins on one unless it’s a HOAGIE. Oh well. It was otherwise o-kay. And of course we had Bassett’s which rocks above all others. I had pumpkin AND peach on one cone and it was simply Heaven in an ice cream.

Yesterday we spent the day at Peddler’s Village in Lahaska. My parents used to live minutes from there in New Hope, and my mommy hadn’t been back since moving to Atlanta. Almost a year and a half ago. So we took the tour and tooled past her old pad. It was not looking too bad, but it just wasn’t the same. We spent the rest of the afternoon eating and playing games at Giggleberry Fair, the Peddler’s Village (slightly) less commercial equivalent of a Chuck E. Cheese. Since it was a Monday afternoon, it was D-E-A-D. My mom took the girls on the carousel and the older man who runs the thing let them stay on waaay longer than normal. I believe out of sheer boredom. It was great fun the first 5-10 minutes, but after that all three of them looked a bit queezy. My husband & I were both very glad to be watching from a bench. Afterward, we hit the outlets. My mommy bought the girls a HUGE bag full of stuff from the Children’s Place, they must have gotten like 5 outfits each. Everything was BEYOND CHEAP, like 99 cents, $2, $3. CRAZY. I think she spent $70 total on the whole lot of it. I really like the Children’s Place very cute & colorful clothing, but some of their stuff can lean distinctly towards trampville. Hoochie mama gear on women is mildly entertaining; on a 4 year old it is criminal.

My mommy also bought me the rockingest pair of shoes. They look like granny shoes, here I am wearing them:

YES they ARE COOL. They will look better w/out my fuzzy polka dot socks, but they still look great even with them. WOW. I love these shoes. I used to have a pair like this back in the early 90s (that’s 1990s NOT 1890s, though they probably looked just like this back then too). My friend Daffy just bought a similar pair. Yay! Okay now all you crazy salivating foot and shoe fetishists can MOVE ON.

SO I had been thinking of buying a sewing machine with my remaining Borgata winnings, but when we went to JoAnn Fabrics yesterday to check out the machines all they sold were Vikings. I’d read great things about Brother machines; not only are they inexpensive but they are supposed to be FABULOUS. So I passed on the $400 unknown Viking. I am going to continue researching. or maybe I will stumble into one at a thrift shoppe for an irresistible LOW LOW price and go for it. I am lucky, you know. But now that my mommy has once again returned south, the whole idea seems less pressing. Or maybe just less fun.

My mommy left at the crack of dawn this morn, leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and the familiar dull ache which has returned once more to my heart. I know that there are people out there who have awful mommies. and I feel so badly for them. BUT I do not exaggerate when I say that my mommy is simply THE BEST MOMMY IN THE HISTORY OF THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD. Unfortunately for us, she is also a successful executive who now lives 800 miles away in ATLANTA. SO unlike yours truly, she can’t just hang out in West Philly for all eternity not brushing her teeth. Don’t get me wrong, I am beyond proud of my mom. To me as well as the rest of the world she is a certifiable SUCCESS in every way. And being a success is a good thing. But being on the receiving end of success sometimes truly sucks. I miss her. I wish she didn’t have to work so hard for people who don’t really care about her. My daughters sob when she leaves. And so do I.. Which is better?

All-in-all, this weekend of fun with my mommy has reminded me of several things. Poop smells. Gambling does not pay unless YOU WIN. And I would rather be with my family and have less money, than be rich & successful apart from them. YES money can be great, especially when you are poor. But it cannot buy you happiness. A lesson that Eliot Spitzer should have learned, but. unfortunately some never do.

Sunday drivers.

~ thedailydish ~ 2 Comments

Just before Christmas I took my daughters to the art museum. As we walked through the Renaissance section, they were totally transfixed by the paintings of the many saints and martyrs. And when we got to the portrayals of Jesus, they really started asking questions. Mommy, why did they nail Jesus to the cross? Why are his ribs sticking out? Why is he bleeding? What are those people doing? and so on.

I have always been extremely candid with my children. I am not one to pussyfoot around an issue or sugar-coat things. It is a matter of personality, but it’s also a matter of what I perceive as truthfulness. I think children can take reality a whole lot better than many adults believe they can – if, that is, it’s presented to them in a way they can understand. Therefore, I do not lie to my children ever. When they ask me a question, I answer them honestly, and I communicate my answer to them to the best of my ability, so that hopefully they at least understand or get a glimpse of what I am trying to explain. When they still aren’t quite getting it, I remind them that we will talk more about this as they get older, and that in time, they will understand.

For this reason, they have known since birth that there is no santa claus, no easter bunny, and no tooth fairy. These fabrications were created in part to manipulate children into behaving in an “acceptable” fashion, and I see no value in perpetuating such lies. My kids understand that Christmas is a celebration of the birth of Christ, and we exchange presents because of our joy and thankfulness at such a gift. The same goes for Easter – we celebrate Christ’s resurrection. We eat candy b/c we like it, not for any symbolic reason. And when my older daughter loses her teeth, she gives them to me, I place each in a bag with a description, and I put a treat for her under the pillow. So you see, my children are not being deprived in any way, they simply know the truth. The truth that their parents love them and therefore don’t lie to them.

So when my girls started asking me those very pointed questions about Jesus in the museum, I knew it was time for real answers.

I was raised as an every-Sunday church-going Methodist and I am a Christian. I believe in God, I believe in Jesus. My husband is more of a Unitarian. He believes in God, but isn’t firm on anything else. He wasn’t raised in any faith other than celebrating secular Christmas & Easter at home. We do not regularly attend church and never have as a family. We do say prayers every night with our children and frequently read stories from the Bible. But now that our girls are getting older, we are sensing it is time for church – or at least more disciplined, if not totally “organized,” religious study.

We have done some “test-driving” of churches. Our experiences thus far:

We attended a Presbyterian church in our neighborhood several times, and initially liked it very much. We were friends with some of the people already and the older British pastor was an engaging orator, reminiscent of C.S. Lewis. Unfortunately he left to take a position in Minnesota, and the replacement pastors (a married couple acting as co-pastors) didn’t fit for us. It only got worse when the couple left following a scandal involving the husband and a female member, which pretty much tore the church apart.

We’ve visited a very historic Methodist here in Philly. The building itself is gorgeous – all white and stark and New Englandesque – but the congregation is tiny, and they have no sunday school.

We attended another local Methodist church, just the one time. The service was fine, but afterwards when we went to collect our girls from Junior Church, we discovered they’d somehow “misplaced” our younger daughter. We spent the next 15 longest minutes of our lives scouring the enormous very gothic church, WORRIED OUT OF OUR MINDS, finally finding her in the pitch-dark basement clutching a door knob. I am still traumatized by the experience. Long story short, this visit left us (especially me) scarred and I can’t even drive near – let alone past – that church anymore.

Just before Christmas we attended a Mennonite church around the corner a couple times. The service was extremely low key, with lots of beautiful singing. The message was genuine. It helps that the congregation are almost exclusively from our immediate neighborhood and we already know or are friends with many of them. This church would be perfect, except for the fact that sunday school meets after the service.

Not a very wide search so far, but there you have it. We’re looking for a fairly traditional church – preferably one with a service we can attend while our children are in Sunday School. But we don’t want someplace too big, too small, or too “pushy.” My husband and I are both very turned off by interrogation tactics, especially when they involve personal religious beliefs. Neither one of us enjoys being put on the spot and asked whether we’ve been saved. I love God and don’t need an intermediary. My husband took a job in IT precisely to avoid dressing up, ever. He is not interested in a Sunday fashion show. and neither am I. We do not want people looking us up and down, judging our family when we go to church. In summary, we are looking for a group of people sincerely interested in worshiping God and serving their fellow man humbly and unpretentiously, with a traditional service that meets at the same time as children’s Bible school. It is a tall order. Wish us luck.

Sunday

~ thedailydish ~ 6 Comments

Yesterday, early afternoon. We left the house to go pick up our older daughter from a friend’s, then proceed downtown to check out the Philly Home Show. My husband is crazy about home improvement stuff. So we left our house, drove 6 blocks to our friends’ place, got our daughter, drove another 1/2 block to the service station for some oil, turned around and drove another 12 blocks to go get on the expressway, when we hear this loud scraping noise. WHAT WAS THAT?! My husband stops the car. He hops out to discover

his favorite coffee cup’s been hitching a ride on the roof all this time. The coffee was still in the cup, and from what he said, tasted as good as it did when we left the house. Now if that isn’t a testament to my husband’s impeccable driving, I don’t know what it.

So we get downtown, park, and we’re walking through Chinatown to the convention center. I love Chinatown. It’s so neat. Where else would people sell chicken feet out of a box located right on the sidewalk? Now THAT’s convenience. My older daughter was thinking there isn’t a whole lot of meat on a chicken’s foot. Silly! These look plenty meaty. Yum-YUM.

We were so happy to finally reach the convention center because it was REALLY REALLY COLD outside. BBBBRRRRR!!! But unfortunately when we got to the convention center, and went through the door that said ENTRANCE and were just about to walk over to the booth for our tickets, we were stopped by a security guard who told us that we had to go back outside and around to the other end of the building and use the OFFICIAL ENTRANCE DOOR FOR THE HOME SHOW. We pointed out that the ticket booth was a stone’s throw away, and there were lots of other people standing around but apparently at the PA Convention Center you must use THE PROPERLY LICENSED DOOR. So we had to go back outside into the freezing cold and walk around to the other end of the building to wind up exactly where we’d just been. b/c THAT’S HOW IT WORKS HERE IN PHILLY and don’t you forget it.

We finally bought our tickets, paid another $6 to check our coats, then spent the next 20 minutes at the restroom. You see, when you have children and you are THE MOM, you spend a lot of time in bathrooms. I have seen the inside of so many of them that I have my own personal Potty System™.  I am a patient woman. That works in my favor. I ask my kids once, twice, sometimes three times, DO YOU HAVE TO GO? I rarely listen to the answer because sometimes they lie.  So instead I say, YOU WILL GO NOW BECAUSE THIS IS YOUR CHANCE. My older daughter is very good, she is older and listens to me. My younger daughter is a crap-shoot (no pun intended). Like yesterday. We were all tightly squeezed into the stall and she adamantly denied having to go.  Then we get outside and 5 minutes later she’s hopping up and down. This is the norm. So I spend a lot of time in bathrooms. I critique them silently while my child/ren are doing their business. I award mental points for cleanliness, stock-age and overall aesthetic appeal. Bonus points are given to places w/pull-down plastic changing tables.  My kids may be out of diapers, but no one should have to change their baby on a cold & often filthy floor. Restrooms with sanitary product dispensing machines with ACTUAL PADS AND TAMPONS get extra bonus points. The convention center bathrooms are new and fairly clean.  They have multicolor tile patterns on the wall above the toilets, placed to interest mothers just like me. They have soap dispensers with the foamy type of soap I prefer. The bathrooms at the Franklin Institute (where we went Saturday) are nice. They are very clean. In fact, I noted seeing the same cleaning attendant in three of their bathrooms as we made our way through the building. She was very diligently sweeping up stray bits of TP.  A+

The home show itself was okay. We went last year, and it was exactly the same this year. Aisle after aisle of people trying to sell you stuff. Flooring, kitchens, bathrooms, home security. Saunas and spas. HOT TUBS!! My older daughter helpfully pointed out that several of the large tubs have built-in places for your WINE. WOW. There were a few people set up with those head-mics, yelling at you to buy their knives, or wonder towels, or amazing dirt sucking up mops. I saw one guy actually toting his purchased mop around the place and couldn’t help thinking a GUY WHO MOPS!! WOW. We even saw GM selling cars, though i don’t know many people rich enough to have a car inside their house. As I told my husband, we have been there 2 years in a row, do not ask me to come a third. Fortunately, we are in complete agreement. I found out on the last aisle, the only reason he wanted to come was to buy more stained glass for our house. Unfortunately, he forgot that he bought the stained glass at last year’s FLOWER SHOW. Oh well. We’ll be back to the convention center for that in March. I will try to remember to use the right door.

The one TRUE New Year’s Eve

~ thedailydish ~ 1 Comment

I am really truly psyched for this weekend. Not only am I feeling terrific, but my husband & I have managed to secure a babysitter – and not just for tonight – BUT FOR TOMORROW NIGHT AS WELL. I know, UNBELIEVABLE.

So all of this excitement and anticipation and giddiness has left me reeling and today I find myself feeling positively like a Russian orthodox. What? Well, you know how they celebrate Christmas roughly 2 weeks after the rest of us? Well, PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR WHAT I AM ABOUT TO SAY. I don’t know if any of you realize, or are open enough to even ponder the possibility, but this weekend may actually be the one TRUE New Year’s Eve.

You see, having spent Christmas 2007 out of town, by the time we got home the OLD Near Year’s Eve was upon us. And although we’d been invited to a kickin house party here in West Philly, scrambling for a babysitter 2 days before the big event was no picnic. Even my husband’s 86 year-old grandmother had plans. So rather than indulging in a night of wild revelry, dragging our bleary-eyed selves home at 5 am, we did what any other babysitter-less couple would do. We spent the day dragging our kids through the art museum, torturing all of the sensitive types, so I could catch the Renoir exhibit. As Aunt Esther would say:

“Take THAT, Suckas.”

Although we went Mummering New Years Day like all good Philadelphians do and of course MUST, we certainly did not celebrate NYE in quite the same manner as the rest of the world. And so we have decided, after much prolonged and brain-aching deliberation, to SCHISM from the rest of you. We will from now on (or at the very least, this year) be celebrating the one and only TRUE New Year’s Eve holiday tomorrow, January 12th. And in keeping with this Orthodoxy, we will be celebrating in a familiar, but DIFFERENT sort of way. Gone will be the masses of blithering idiots, drunken beyond speech. Public vomiting and lewdness are optional, not mandatory! No Dick Clark and his dropping ball. Our holiday – the new TRUE New Year’s Eve – will retain its preciousness like no other.

And so, I must cut this post short. Lots to squeeze in before 2008!

Happy New Year, everyone!

ATLANTA, or why I love Target Brand Box Riesling.

~ thedailydish ~ 11 Comments

When my sister moved to Atlanta for graduate school, I was happy for her. The separation was sad, but she was making a success of her life, and it wasn’t forever. I understood.

But when my parents decided to join her down south in Atlanta, well…..
that was just a bit too much. I felt slightly.. abandoned. Hey I know I’m way out of diapers, but I STILL WANT MY MOMMY. Atlanta is far. Far enough to make a one-day drive with 2 kids nearly intolerable, and other than freshman year of college I’d never lived more than an hour away from my folks my whole life. So when they made the move – to ATLANTA of all places, I was more than peeved. I was hurt. And angry. And not a little bit PISSED OFF, especially AT ATLANTA. What was so freaking great about Atlanta?

Man, I really hated that town. They did it right, burning it down like that. What did Atlanta think it was, luring my family away from me?

And so, for many months, I resented Atlanta like no other place in the world. It didn’t help that my family were constantly singing the praises of their new and glamorous city like fevered zealots. “ATLANTA this, and ATLANTA that.” “Wait till you see blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.”

SCREW COKE WORLD, I thought. At least here we have drinking water and can flush our toilets. I am NEVER going to set foot in effing Atlanta. NEVER!
That’ll show ’em!

But like sands through the hour glass….after a few months of not seeing my parents, and speaking to them less and less frequently, I caved like a sinkhole. Time apart from my loved ones had made me think differently. If Atlanta had taken them, I would just have to see why.

And so, this summer, we visited twice. And Hey Mikey! I liked it. Sure it wasn’t dirty dangerous Philly, but it had appeal. It wasn’t interesting in that old historic way, but it was BLING!BLING! like a newly-minted penny. My parents have a gorgeous home. They are happy there, except for missing us. So.. it’s different than we’re used to, but things down there are nice. AND CLEAN. And the People are pleasant. They let you in in traffic. They don’t try to run you over when you’re crossing the street. You can walk the hell out in front of their cars in a parking lot, and they STOP AND SMILE and wave you on. WOW. I DO still hate the fact that you have to drive absolutely everywhere in Atlanta, and it is hot as b*lls in the summer, but summers here in Philly are humid and disgusting too. And my parents have central air and A POOL.

So, yes, I have officially come around. And being the way I am, when I “come around” I REALLY come around. The place I once hated, now I can’t wait to visit again. And not just for my family. But for the STUFF. Atlanta has stuff we don’t have here. STUFF THAT I LIKE. On our visit during the holidays, I came to appreciate even more the charm of the place – or maybe just the charm of the shopping. It’s everywhere. Miles and miles of stores. Sure, they’re mostly the same stores we have here, but they’re like our stores on STEROIDS. The brand new Target here is like their SUPER TARGET’S shrimpy homely cousin. Their Trader Joe’s is awesome and it SELLS WINE AND BEER!!! No wonder people there are so nice. CAN YOU IMAGINE THAT SORT OF CHEAP CONVENIENCE?!

I must have gone to the Super Target by my parents house 3 times in 4 days. I just never wanted to leave. I wanted to LIVE THERE. And I am not joking. I felt like some poor deprived third-worlder having stumbled upon paradise. AND I AM NOT THAT INTO SHOPPING, PEOPLE! It’s just THAT GOOD. During one of the Target shopping trips, I came upon something which stopped me in my tracks. You know how great Target is? How every single thing they make is just so irresistably cute/cool/hip and unbelievably inexpensive, that you think surely this corporation has sold its soul to the devil? Well, you will then understand what I have to say. You see, I like wine. I love wine. If I didn’t have kids, I would probably be a full-fledged wino. Well. ATLANTA TARGETS SELL THEIR OWN BRAND OF BOX WINE – but they are CUTE!! AND COLORFUL!! AND FILLED WITH WINE!! AND WHY AM I STILL LIVING HERE IN PHILLY???!! I don’t even like box wine, but now I do because it’s like everything else at Target. IRRESISTIBLE.

I bought the above box of Riesling as a souvenir to bring home, and I don’t even like Riesling. Not even a little. But I thought I WILL LIKE TARGET BRAND BOX RIESLING, I just know it! So we stuck it in the fridge when we got home, and didn’t open it all last week b/c I was so sick, but night before last we each poured a glass and I thought YES! TARGET BRAND BOX RIESLING! DELICIOUSNESS ITSELF!! But then I drank it and thought NO! DEAR LORD, NO!!!

You see, Target branding cannot make up for the fact that I hate the cloying sweetness of Riesling wine. HOWEVER, just because I hate the taste of this wine, DOES NOT MEAN I HATE TARGET BRAND BOX RIESLING> oh Contraire! SIMPLY BECAUSE I hate its taste, it means I will drink less of it. And that’s a good thing, right? After the first glass, the second goes down easy. And who can bear wasting wine, after all?