Girls Gone Wild: Toddler Edition

I hope its pure coincidence that my daughters ripped off their shirts and half-streaked across the park right around the time Joe Francis reached a plea deal and got time served for schmarminess tax evasion and they don't have aspirations toward flashing for the cameras. Have you ever seen a more grotesque, meatier face than the cad below? Ewww. I was hoping they would throw him in a dungeon with a bunch of sex-starved inmates armed with video equipment.

By the way, just to prove we in fact took the girls to the park fully dressed:

Anyway, what's with today's culture where everyone gets naked (adults, not toddlers) for cameras and videos and doesn't expect the footage to appear at some point. I always thought while her singing and acting are questionable, that JLo was at least smart. (Making money with relatively little talent must take some intelligence.) Apparently not enough to realize you don't make an ELEVEN-HOUR (???!!!) sex tape on your honeymoon, divorce the loser, and then expect him not to sell said sex tape. Too bad Marc Anthony doesn't weigh more than 90 pounds so he could kick some ex-husband ass.

Am I the only person left on the planet without a sex tape I'm anxiously waiting to surface?

PS -- Combining my kids, Joe Francis and the topic of sex tapes in the same post is admittedly a bit creepy but I'm a bit scattered today...

Who Moved My Cheese?

We are back and settled in our home if you call surrounded by boxes and not being able to find a blender when you need one "settled in." I'd love to report the blender was for a stiff "boat drink" as Jimmy Buffet would call it, but sadly it was for pureed (homemade, organic) sweet potatoes for the girls. My point in mentioning the sweet potato part is to remind you I am all that and a bag of chips as a mother. Anyway, I became irate at my husband -- who was at work at the time -- that I couldn't find the blender. I'm sure somehow it's his fault.

What's also his fault: Since we had to completely unpack our house as though we just moved in, I took this opportunity to clean out and organize the girls' room and clothes. A pile they've outgrown to pass on to their younger cousin, a pile for donating and a pile that no human should ever have to lay eyes on ever again. I found a place for everything that currently fits and was pleased as punch with myself. So imagine my surprise when I went to the sock / tights drawer and the socks were missing. "Where the @#$! are their socks?!" I screamed like a deranged lunatic in my husband's general direction. Turns out he "thought it made more sense for the socks to be in a different drawer." BECAUSE HE IS THE ONE WHO PUTS THEIR SOCKS ON EVERY DAY??? Well, no.

So here's my plan. One day when he's traveling or otherwise not in his office, I'm going to smugly take the train downtown, make myself at home at his place of employment and rearrange everything how I would like it if I were still a productive member of corporate America. Pens will unnecessarily change drawers, pictures put on different shelves and file names changed and alphabetized in such a manner that Einstein couldn't decipher code. He won't be able to find a damn thing by the time I'm done with it. And then, just for effect, I'll send out several obnoxiously inappropriate e-mails from his computer, the kind I might have sent back in the day that seemed to rub folks the wrong way. Example:

Dear Legal People:

I'm assuming by all of the non-legal-related edits you made to the press release that you'd like to be an editor rather than a lawyer. Might I suggest we compare paychecks at next Friday's happy hour before you decide for sure? Regardless, attached is the FINAL draft of the press release. While I admire your enthusiasm for the correct usage of the English language and its accompanying punctuation, if and only if you find something that WILL GET US SUED are you permitted to edit any further. Thanks for your understanding and ongoing legal expertise.

Unfortunately, my husband is in a different line of work than I was so I can't send this one verbatim. Although that would really confuse people and scream "crazy" so it might just work...

Ding Dong

I'm from the school of thought that you just don't show up unannounced on someone's doorstep. I'm also from the school of thought that if you ring my buzzer during naptime and wake up my children you might get yourself shot. Not in the heart or head or anywhere deadly. Maybe just the foot or groin depending on your sex.

When those someones have shown up and rang my buzzer and woken up my children and I come to find out their uninvited visit is in an attempt to convert me to their religious beliefs, I am inclined to ask them for their addresses so I can return the favor around, say, 3:00 am or thereabouts. I also want to ask them what their success rates are with this particular form of outreach. I mean how many people really let them in, chat amicably for a bit and then announce, "You know what! They sounds fanfuckingtastic! Sign me up!" I'm not even sure what religion these people were touting, but if it requires me going door to door as a member the answer is "thank-you-very-much-for-thinking-of-my-salvation-but-I'll-have-to-pass." I say that after I shoot them of course.

Does this happen in the suburbs or only in the city?

My Mama Dresses Me Funny II

Dear God there's a winterized version of the Jolly Romper! So mesmerized was I by this trend that I hired several investigative photojournalists to document its continuing popularity south of the Mason Dixon Line. Apparently this dear boy's sister was wearing a coordinating one covered in bows but my paparazzo got nervous and couldn't capture the sibling on film.

How many years of therapy will this kid need? Ten? Twenty? An entire lifetime? What's sad is his parents and multitude of psychiatrists probably won't even be able to pinpoint his impending mental instability to this very outfit. The mother will fret her whole life: "Was I too permissive? Not permissive enough? Did I nurse too long? Not long enough?" Nope, lady, you just had sucky-ass taste in toddler wear.

I will say that the fall/winter Jolly Romper is more becoming in that the colder weather necessitates an undergarment so at least the kid isn't exposing his armpits. But need it have a girly habit-like collar? Remember this precious little profile people. Because someday we will see it again. On America's Most Wanted.

PS -- I'm slightly concerned about the ethics of posting photos of other people's children. But not enough not to do it.

Marley and Jennifer Aniston

I am not a dog person. I thought the book Marley and Me was the biggest piece of crap I've ever read and the only reason I read it was because I was stuck on a tarmac with nothing else to read except Southwest's in-flight magazine and that SkyMall catalog and even those were riveting in comparison. Having bought it for my mom (who is a dog person) as a birthday gift I was tempted to throw it out and save her the misery. Showing up with no present might have been better than showing up with that present.

So when my husband TIVO'd the movie, I thought he'd gone nuts. He dislikes Jennifer Aniston and seemed to be personally affronted when Owen Wilson tried to take his own life. ("What the hell does that guy have to be upset about?!")

Nevertheless, we sat down to watch it Saturday night. And I bawled my eyes out. AND I'M NOT A DOG PERSON. Anyone who is a dog person I would imagine needs a prescription for Prozac just to get through it.

But here is my bone of contention. (People, there's always a bone of contention.) Is Jennifer Aniston ever not Jennifer Aniston in a movie? Does she ever do accents or novel facial expressions or gestures she doesn't ordinarily do when, say, being interview by Oprah? Don't get me wrong. I love Jennifer Aniston. I want to BE Jennifer Aniston. (I want to BE anyone who's made out with Vince Vaughn.) I mean, she's likable in all of her roles. Because she's, well, her. In her next role, I think they should just call the character she's going to play Jennifer Aniston. Jennifer Aniston as Jennifer Aniston.

Oh, sure, she played that depressed wife role in The Good Girl. So she slouched a bit and didn't smile much. Big whoop. Okay, maybe I'll make an exception for Leprechaun. Because if you can pull off hunting down a murderous Irish munchkin with a straight face, anything's possible.

Also, could the makeup people have at least TRIED to make it seem like they aged a bit? Jennifer and Owen looked exactly the same throughout the movie which takes place over like 13 years or something. The only thing aging was the dog. And the kids.

That said, I actually liked this movie. Shoot me.

Boo

John Mayer as (sadly) John Mayer

Happy Halloween. Or not. Ours was such a bust I don't even have an adorable photo of my children to share with you. Oh, they looked adorable alright. When they weren't screaming their heads off. I knew enough to know that my quirky kids would not put on costumes. No way. So I bought them cute little Halloween-themed outfits. Too bad nobody got to see them. There was a party Thursday night in our temporary high-rise building which has a (rather depressing) "party" room. I got them decked out in their new outfits with plastic pumpkins in hand and announced, "Let's go to a party to see some kids!" I said this very enthusiastically thinking my attitude might be catching.

"No party! No party! No kids! Too many kids! WAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

I wish they got the "no party" mentality from me. It would have made my college years a whole lot more productive. And some day I might come to appreciate their anti-party stance. Like when I'm paying their college tuition. But right now, when I actually like to socialize with other human beings (if only so I can complain about them later), it's annoying.

Not one to give up that easily when festivities are involved, we dragged them to another event on Halloween day where there was a petting zoo and other things kids are supposed to like. Unfortunately a woman dressed like Cruella De Vil greeted us and shrilly screamed "Twins!" to which they responded by screaming bloody murder which makes me think the girls should show up for a casting call for Halloween 45 or whatever number they are currently filming. We had to leave within two minutes.

There was also a party across the street we were invited to. Maybe they'll be in a better mood when they get up from their nap, I thought hopefully. When they woke up I asked nicely, "Want to go to a party across the street with kids from the neighborhood?"

"No party! No kids! Home! Home! Home!"

So at home we sat and watched a Halloween-themed Caillou, a riveting episode where Caillou can't decide what to dress up as. A real cliffhanger. And don't even ask me what happened when costumed children rang our bell and yelled "Trick or treat!" at the top of their lungs. I guess I should have expected this. If my kids don't like people in general, they're not going to like people dressed up like other people or worse.

PS -- With no photos of my children to share, I decided this post should be accompanied by the scariest image I could find.

Introducing a Fragrance By ... Naomi Campbell?

It would never occur to me that I'd like to smell like Naomi Campbell. Isn't she the person who said she doesn't get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day? People smell when they don't get out of bed all day. That is, they smell bad. So if people are dying for that smell I'd be happy to package that shit up and sell it to them. For probably a lot less than Naomi is hocking it for. I don't know what her version is called but I think I'd just cut to the chase and call it "Smelly."

Also, do you want to smell like someone who assaults her employees, spits on people at the airport and has snogged this guy? Umm, I'll stick with my own aromatic scent. It's free.

Well, news has it she is screwing people out of money on this ill-conceived perfume deal. Be happy you got off easy, folks! At least she didn't cut you with a bejeweled Blackberry necessitating you get stitches.

On a somewhat related note, I like this song. True Blood used it perfectly at the end of a show last season and it made me happy for like 12 minutes.