Tuesday, February 26, 2013

in case you missed it

Jj Hirsch
Rico thought he'd take a wine spritzer to bed last night. Apparently forgot that he hates the stuff, and left it on his bedside table. Thank God it was the dog who was drunk when I came home and not the two year old. Not kidding.
Like ·  · Promote · 


Tuesdays are killing me.

It's a 6:10 wake-up call so I can drop Kooka at band and be at the middle school by 7 to work choreography with Punk's Honor Choir class. And it's not like I can just show up in my pajamas drinking a mocha either.  I have to be ON - not just because I have to get these kids going, but because as Punk puts it, his "social status depends on if his mom is funny and makes class exciting."

No pressure there.
So if he can't get a date to junior prom, it's because I wasn't Jimmy Fallon enough at 7:00 am back when he was an eighth grader.

After ensuring Punk's place in the social strata of NMS, I run back home, pick up Yoda and take her to "school."  Of course it's not school in the real sense of the word.  It's not like I can leave her there, meet my friends at Caribou and return 90 minutes later, refreshed.  Hell no.  I take her to class - we paint, we dig in sand, we drink a LOT of pretend coffee (notice I still haven't gotten my mocha), we listen to story time and THEN we split up for about 40 minutes.  But it's not like I'm off the hook yet.  The parents split up, head to another room and have a group discussion on eating habits, or mysteries of the universe or some such thing that we'll never be able to solve in under an hour anyway. They might as well give me a page of algebra problems to solve - at least I could finish that (and drink a caramel latte at the same time)

After Yoda's "school", it's grocery shopping, then home for lunch, then naptime for Yoda and work time for me. Then it's off to teach - 3 hours, plus a private lesson.  Dinner happens around 7:30 - IF I don't have a meeting after class.

Usually Kooka and I curl up on the couch with dinner and Dance Moms (don't judge)  We're all team Chloe in this house - even the boys, so if Abby is nice to her, we can all take a shower and start to relax for the evening - if not, we spend a good ten minutes on the post-show wrap up before showers and bed.

By 9:30 there has still been no mocha - so why can't I fall asleep until 1:30?

I love Tuesdays - they are my favorite day of the week.
But they are killing me.

Thursday, February 21, 2013


This never gets old - never. Especially the Ethiopians, the fiddler from Chile, and that Israeli kid. I want Kooka to marry that Israeli kid.

Thursday, February 14, 2013


I feel almost evil posting this, and even more evil for admitting that I have secretly wished for this all along . . .

But as of last night, I have ALL THREE of my children in a dance class.

Oh yes I do - and although I will not post this on facebook for fear of humiliating a certain uber-cool middle school guy . . . . it was even his idea.

Oh yes it was.

Lifting up cute girls was a bonus.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

baby news

We're expecting another baby.

Hard to believe since we've got a toddler in the house.  Even harder to believe since the baby isn't ours - but Punk's.

Desperately hard to believe considering he's 13 and never even been on a date.

Regardless, his baby will be arriving any day - and thankfully, returning to the school's storage closet the next day.

Yep, it's electronic baby season at the local middle school, and while I am glad Punk has the opportunity to participate in this project, I am not so thrilled at the prospect of his fake baby waking up my real one at 2am.

Unlike the real world, before Punk can bring this kid home, he has to prove that he has a modicum of parenting skills.  (I'll skip bragging about how he gave his baby sister the heimlich maneuver last month, and how his puppet show voices are Grammy material).  The kid had to prove his worth by filling out some basic financial info related to child rearing.

He spent the better part of last night online shopping for procedures (he chose c-section because and I quote, "nobody in their right mind would choose to have it come out the other way"), gear (it's hard to find a stroller with an attached mini-fridge), food and clothing.

I've mentioned his life saving skills haven't I?
I've also brought up the puppet shows right?
I'll even throw in the killer lego sculptures.
But the budgeting?


I was looking over his shoulder (like you wouldn't).  I tried to keep my mouth shut - I really did.

But I couldn't.

"Dude - are you buying EVERYTHING from Babies R Us?"
"You do know, that it's the most expensive place to buy things right?"
"Nope - but that's OK."
(sound of me drumming fingernails on kitchen table)

"Are you even buying your food there?"
"You know - you can get all of this stuff at Walmart, or Target - or better yet Craigslist."
"That's a lot of work."
"Maybe, but it's SO much cheaper.  You should check it out."
"No thanks.  I mean, that's good advice for the real world, but this is just an assignment."
(sound of me biting my thumbnail off)

Him: "It says I need to buy overalls.  I can't even find any - and they are totally out of style."
"That's great news - because I have all 4 of your baby pair, so you can just use those - you won't have to buy any. Just write down 'free - heirloom overalls.'"
"But I have to say where I bought them."
"Then write down 'my mom'. (sound of me, pulling the paper from his hand).  Camera and film?  Are you kidding me?  Just pay your iphone bill - and take your pictures that way.  Nobody buys film anymore - that's crazy. And what's this crib bumper doing on this list? That's a suffocation hazzard - you tell your teacher that you won't buy one of those because you love your baby!"

(Insert Punk's WTF looks and tentative scratching of his pencil as he writes "my mom is bat$#!T crazy" as his source material).

I continue to scour his list.  It's all insane:
$120 for six baby outfits.
$65 for 20 jars of baby food.
$250 for a stroller.

I keep mostly quiet until this:

8 pair of baby socks $71.95.


So I ask - I HAVE to ask.

"What the hell kind of socks did you buy for a kid whose feet are not going to hit the floor for another 10 months?"

So he shows me.

He's purchased  eight pair of "organically grown cotton socks"  at $8.99 a pair.

I go ballistic. "DUDE!!! You are insane!  I don't pay that much for a whole BAG of socks. These aren't even REAL socks, apparently they were grown on a bush or some damn thing. There's no such thing as organically grown socks!  GO TO TARGET!" I pull up the website - make him return his $70 worth of socks, and buy a bag for $5.99.

At this point he is laughing hysterically and says, "Wow - you're almost as bad as Rico."


I guess that doesn't leave much room for crazy in Rico's domain.

I hope Punk can pass this class.

If not, he's taking the homeschooled version.