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The Family Swap

May 9, 2012 By 4 Comments

If the words “family swap” conjure images of you and your cherubs cowering in a lean-to in Appalachia while the Clampetts skin squirrels in your Great Room, I suspect you’ve watched as much reality TV as I have.

(Speaking of…ask me about my Reality TV Rehab Program [results may vary]. No, you cannot watch the Housewives. No, not even Orange County. Yes, I know it’s the original one, and I also want to know all about how Vicki feels during her daughter’s health crisis or if Alexis’ nose surgery was really medically necessary or how Gretchen does in Vegas as a Pussycat Doll, but it’s time to move on. Repeat after me: PBS.)

No, by family swap, I mean a way for you to get all the extra stuff you thought you needed when you bought it into the hands of people who can actually use it. In the process, you have some family- and community-oriented fun as you gather to give away what you don’t need and take what you do. [Read more...]

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Family, Humor, NJ Fun, Tara Spinelli

Haircuts Come But Once a Year

April 26, 2012 By 3 Comments

Maybe I’m lazy; maybe I’m cheap, but I only get my hair cut once a year.  I never intended to make this a steadfast pattern — it just happened.  And it’s not that my hair resembles an untamed squirrel’s nest after said year – usually it grows out long and thick, naturally highlighted by the sun with a few covert strands of white and gray but unmanageable.  When I start using a scrunchie (oh, no! fashion faux pas!) in order to pull up my hair into a ballerina bun or ponytail; or when I go bohemian and pluck a once bright, now faded, bandanna to hold back my chestnut waves, I know I’ve reached my breaking point.

Usually, my once-a-year haircut falls around October, after a summer of stretching out scrunchies, breaking headbands, saturating my hair with sun, surf and chlorine and enduring split ends and sweaty strands glued to my cheeks.  After many personal consultations about my hair’s future, I’ll decide to wear it up all summer and chop it off come fall.

Without question or complaint, my husband B generously forks over the dough.  After a year, he probably enjoys the idea of greeting a “new” wife.  Even my mom will send an unsolicited check for hair rejuvenation.  I make an appointment at a nice salon and relish getting my hair washed with lush products I’d never purchase and pull off my glasses, awaiting my transformation.  Usually, I request a chin-length bob, and the hairdresser will grill me several times to make sure I won’t leap out of my chair in a panic over my lost locks.

Two months before I gave birth to my son J, who undoubtedly would pull hair and did, I voluntarily allowed a hairdresser to chop off 13 inches of hair.  Never before had I taken such extreme measures with my hair except when I streaked it with purple mascara.  The salon participated in the Locks for Love program which uses about three ponytails worth in each wig, and I loved the idea of my hair helping out a child with cancer or another detrimental disease.

The next year I visited a stylist who interrogated me several times before ascertaining that I definitely wanted a drastic haircut.  An extreme cut awarded me freedom and possibilities to be a new me again.  Liberated from excessive hair, I felt as daring as Madonna!

I also looked forward to another person scrubbing my hair and savored the unintentional head massage with sweet-smelling, luscious potions.  Since all the split and ragged ends were snipped, my hair appeared silkier and bouncier.  It alluringly swept across my neck, and a few salon staffers requested to touch my hair which seemed strangely flattering.

Managing my hair has always been difficult.  When I was a child, I hated when my mom would try to comb out my hair after washing it.  Pulling out the tangles tortured me, so she kept my hair short which looked ugly and boyish.  In the sixth grade, all my friends started using a curling iron, but I feared burning myself and managed the iron like I manage sports equipment – like I’m going to throttle someone rather than win the game. [Read more...]

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Humor, M. B. Sanok, Mind-Body-Spirit

Updating My Stay-at-Home Mom Status

February 24, 2012 By 13 Comments

I’m bored.  Flat out, no holds barred bored.  I’m tired of the daily doldrums, let alone the winter ones, which constitute my life.  Although I knew this day would come, I’m still surprised that I feel this way.  From the time my husband B and I discussed our future together which most definitely included children, I knew I wanted to raise them full-time. After working full-time for 17 years, my mom stayed at home with my sister and me until I was around 11.  I intended to follow in her footsteps.

I speculated about having a third child (see “Occasional Thoughts of a Third”) and decided against it after a great deal of soul-searching.  I’m 40 now, afraid of the heightened autism risk and am far enough away from the working world that I’m worried I’ll never return.  Don’t feel insulted if you’re over 40 and just starting a family – I never formulated a career before I gave birth to my daughter E at 30, and I’m the product of older parents (mom, almost 35; dad, almost 42 upon my birth).  If my career ever ignited, I’d probably have started my family later, but I ended up having E smack dab in the middle of the mothering years, slightly older than the average first-time mom. [Read more...]

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Family, Humor, M. B. Sanok, Mind-Body-Spirit, Work-Money

Worth Fighting For

February 10, 2012 By 1 Comment

My mom says I’d argue with Jesus himself.

My husband B claims I like to fight, especially with him.  Well, wouldn’t you want to fight a man whose opening line was, “So, you make the coffee in the office?”  Amazingly, the line intrigued me as I curled up my lip and snapped, “No…!”  And he looked kind of cute…

My son J instructs me that I need to ignore whomever it is that has crept under my skin.  Meanwhile, we’ve had to remind him more than once not to retaliate when in school or against a smaller, more vulnerable opponent.  Backing down when in a precarious situation or when he’s defending himself does not come naturally.  Maybe that’s why he likes wrestling and football.

My daughter E appears meek and innocent with her Precious Moments-like blue eyes, but she’ll sass you right back with a sizzle.  I can hardly wait until she hits puberty – autism or not, I can already sense the fights and hormonal rushes of being right.  Top that with my own PMS-fueled blitzes, and you have a mother-daughter nuclear war on your hands.

My sister L and I have a love-hate relationship which has since mellowed due to us living in separate quarters with our own families.  Being each other’s sole siblings with a mere 2-year difference, we spent a lot of time together.  One minute, we’re best friends forever, trying on fancy gowns at the mall for fun; the next, it’s classic sibling rivalry with hair-pulling and snarky comments about each other.  One time I threw a book at her and her nose bled which led her to slam my thumb in her bedroom door.  Another time, while watching the joyful, pleasant musical The Sound of Music on Thanksgiving Eve, she purposely elbowed me in the eye, and I wore black-and-blue that holiday.

Also, there was the time when L and I went to the town hall to rent a wheelchair for an elderly aunt.  Our Aunt F was spending Christmas with us and was having trouble getting around, so my mom assigned us the task of picking up a rental wheelchair.  We were bickering beforehand, possibly me as the instigator but reached a temporary détente while driving.

Upon arrival the clerk showed us the chairs and told us we could test drive them.  We chose a pretty, light blue one and wheeled it outside in the frigid December air.

“Get in,” L urged, “and we’ll test it out.”  I warily looked at her, my suspicions clouding above my head.  Her blank expression betrayed no anger or deception, but I knew my erstwhile enemy better than that.

L began to push the chair while I tried to enjoy the free ride.  What had she really planned to do? I looked toward the steep hill and thanked God the property was at the base of it.

Slowly, she gently pushed me and then suddenly picked up speed and started running.  Racing around the parking lot, I realized she still was angry and crazily riding me around in the chair was her revenge.  Did I ever mention that my mom forced me to accompany my thrill-seeking sister on amusement park rides because she didn’t like them?  And I not only used to be scared of rides, but I sometimes get physically sick on them, too?

Halfway into the death drive, the chair collapsed enough to make me fall to the ground with a clumsy thud.  Laughing hysterically, she fell, too, her breath coming out in short puffs.  I couldn’t stay mad, either, and experienced an achingly good belly laugh.  Luckily, the chair didn’t suffer too much harm although now you really couldn’t sit in it.

We wheeled it back inside while the clerk’s eyes narrowed, seeing the broken chair, and doubtfully asked if we would take it.  Maybe she had spied on our racing and pratfalls? We declined the chair and requested a sturdier-looking one without test driving it.  As we wheeled the second chair out the door, she watched us carefully and suspiciously, probably hoping we wouldn’t return.

From our fighting, came comedy, and we rekindled our friendship/sisterhood, saving our elderly aunt from breaking another hip by using the faulty chair.  It was worth fighting for…

 

This is an original post for Jersey Moms Blog.

 

 

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Family, Humor, M. B. Sanok

1-800-IMA-BTCH

January 31, 2012 By 6 Comments

I read Dante in college so I know all about the nine circles of hell. I’m pretty sure that working in telemarketing is round about the fourth or fifth level, but I fear that my own recent behavior will land me on an even deeper rung, hanging out near my scorchy old buddy Lucifer.

You see, despite the fact that I’m usually fairly well-mannered and do try to be respectful of others, I have somehow landed at the point in my overstressed do-it-all working parent life that I have begun to funnel all my frustration, my darkest social impulses, my (mostly) pent-up snark into tormenting invisible strangers who call my phone.

So please, if you are hired by some research firm or an alarm system installer or a professional credit card scammers union, please do us both a favor and do not call me. I have lost my mind and I promise you it ain’t coming back anytime soon!

Oh, come now, it’s not that bad, says you. I’m exaggerating, you insist. Hmmm … [Read more...]

Filed Under: Deanna Q, Humor Tagged With: , , ,

Contributor Feature: Chrissy MacCarrick

January 6, 2012 By Leave a Comment

I’m just gonna say it. We have some veritable rock stars in our presence. We’re incredibly proud to be in the company of these talented women and host them here as JerseyMomsBlog Contributors. Chrissy MacCarrick is no exception. Her personal blog, LifeAsACEO, tracks the daily trials of her appropriately proclaimed position as CEO of her household and it is full of truth, fun and a delightful perspective.

 In true, multi-tasking-Mom-blogger fashion, Chrissy also runs her Jersey Shore Families community, a hyper-local online family resource full of ideas, adventures and advice from a Mom who’s in the know.

 In Chrissy’s own, perfectly penned words… “It’s been said that I require a placemat to list my job descriptions & qualifications because a business card would not be big enough.  My placemat includes duties as a wife, mom, business owner, website Editor, social media consultant, blogger, Zumba instructor…and everything in between {phew!}”.

 Who does not relate!?

 Here’s a fun post by Chrissy, originally featured on LifeAsACEO and an appropriate read as we head into the season of love. Enjoy. And do check out all that Chrissy has to offer at her personal blogs too.

——————–

 My Husband’s Girlfriend

 When I was my husband’s girlfriend…I really strived to be “hot.” I worked out almost daily, and flaunted what I thought was a sexy body with coordinating bra and panty sets from Victoria Secret. I owned just one velour sweat suit– & even that was a cutesie baby pink set that didn’t have lollipop stuck to it or boogers wiped across it. I went for bi-monthly manicures, never had roots {gasp!}, washed my face every night before bed and got regular facials. All of these acts made me feel confident {& sexy} in my own skin.

When I was my husband’s girlfriend…I didn’t always spend the night. I had a hard time becoming confident in the “trust” department thanks to some crappy relationships & my broken family upbringing, but I did come to realize the benefits of giving your partner space. I am a firm believer that absence makes the heart grow fonder. After a night home alone channel surfing, or a night out with pals, we always looked forward to the thrill of spending quality time together.

When I was my husband’s girlfriend…I hid some things from him. Like horrific smelling farts, or strange noises coming from the bathroom. Sure, I once sneezed and wiped my boogs on his couch {true story!} but for the most part, I acted like a lady & made certain that some things remained a mystery.

When I was my husband’s girlfriend….I was always up for a romp in the sack. {enough said.}

When I was my husband’s girlfriend….I was always up for anything! I wasn’t haggard and tired, or cranky and moody. Dinner out? Sure! Dinner in? Why not! A movie? You pick! A concert? Even better!

This March [2011], DaddyMac & I will be married for 7 years. I worked hard at being his girlfriend, but I don’t always work hard at being his wife. Any mom can relate to the physical, mental and emotional toll of child-rearing & raising–and I believe it’s understandable and acceptable to allow the exhaustion of motherhood to take over. But now that my kids are growing, and we are starting to settle into our lives, I am realizing how important it is to nurture our relationship, and my personal self. And I think reflecting on my girlfriend-self is a great place to start.

Filed Under: Chrissy MacCEO, Family, Humor, NJ Fun

My Brownies are Real…and They’re Spectacular

January 4, 2012 By 12 Comments

I’ve publicly professed that I don’t like to cook.  At one time, I fooled myself into thinking I liked to bake to keep up with the Jones, but I couldn’t maintain the charade.  One trait I absolutely adore in my husband B is that he loves to cook and is a fantastic chef.  When I first told my mom about B, my eyes glazed over, and I dreamily raved about his cooking prowess.  Despite the fact that he brings home the bacon while I’m the glorified nanny, he still comes home from work and cooks.  And he doesn’t offer up Hamburger Helper like one mom snidely assumed…he cooks real meals with real ingredients and probably should have gone to culinary school.

While at work one morning, he suggested I make brownies for dessert, so I looked in the pantry and couldn’t find a mix.  I called him back to say we didn’t have any, and he asked why I couldn’t just use The Joy of Cooking brownie recipe since I’d watched him make them before.  Although I was hesitant to do so, I didn’t want to disappoint him.  As best as I could, I followed the recipe, and they came out pretty well.  From then on, I would make them for school activities, friendly get-togethers and for our own pleasure.  Most people really liked and devoured them, me included.  How proud I was that I actually could bake something well!

Before a recent holiday party, my friends and I discussed via e-mail what we were bringing to the party.  L was bringing an appetizer; G thought about bringing a cheesecake sampler; and M still hadn’t decided.  I wrote that I was baking my usual brownies.  My friend L wrote back, “Wait, did you say YOU’RE making brownies, or B is???”  Of course, I wrote back saying that I was making them, and why didn’t anyone believe me?!? The same thing happened a few weeks ago when I made a homemade meatloaf for dinner – my sister and mom were shocked and couldn’t believe it until they grilled B. So per L’s request to “witness [me] actually cooking”, I decided to add pictures of me making brownies to this blog post.  Prepare to be amazed, naysayers!

So, how did my brownies fare at the holiday party, you ask? “Your brownies rock, MB!”  I heard repeatedly that night from my friend N who may have been too infused with the holiday spirit.  My friend M soothed any doubts and defended me by stating, “I love MB’s brownies because they’re made with real love.”  Glad I have a supportive friend…now what does she want? With forlorn, blue eyes, and a pout betraying the child within, B chimed in with, “How come you always make brownies for the kids and your friends and not for me?” Uh-oh…better step up on those marital vows and crack open the cookbook again…!

And that’s the small verdict from two close friends and my husband…my brownies are real, and they’re spectacular…or are they?!?

 

This is an original post for Jersey Moms Blog. If you’re nice to her and share this post, MB might bring you some brownies.

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Food, Humor, M. B. Sanok

Oh, the Horror of Holiday Toys!

December 22, 2011 By 6 Comments

Dreaming of sugar plums dancing in our children’s heads, we gather our gift ideas, peeking at any wish lists they write.  Whether they ask Santa Claus to make those dreams come true or wait expectantly by the light of the menorah or just hope that the generous, seasonal gift-givers will look upon them expansively, they want some type of toy that will rock their world.  With convincing commercials, persuasive pals and dazzling store displays, they know what they want and won’t be denied.

But what about those horrible toy horrors your child receives either intentionally, mistakenly or just on a whim?  Without much warning they sneak into your child’s pile of presents – you may not even realize the danger until it’s too late!  Even reading reviews online or receiving recommendations from friends cannot stop a toy horror from visiting your home.  During this season of giving, I wanted to share a few toy horrors with you.  If you have any toy horrors, please share with the crowd and your warning may help prevent this holiday trauma. [Read more...]

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Family, Holidays, Humor, M. B. Sanok

Oh Teeny Virtual Shopping Cart, How I Adore Thee.

December 19, 2011 By Leave a Comment

If you’re reading this on your computer, as opposed to your smart phone cause you’re hip-like-that, it’s likely that you may also have a browser window open to your favorite online shopping site and gifts galore loaded into that teeny, gracious, virtual shopping cart with some implementation of Super Saver Shipping, BOGO 50%, Gift Card Reward, In-store Pickup, 2 Days Only – Just for You, Blowout Savings!

Show of hands?

While I do enjoy all that in-store shopping offers, this season, that teeny virtual cart had big powers over me. I love it for its convenience, accessibility and for just being there for me. Instantly I’m captivated. I kick off my shoes and turn on Polar Express for the wee one.  He is transfixed and I’m off.  I jump to the Sears site and realize quickly that I have a multitude of options beyond Craftsman and Kenmore.  Options like The Great Indoors and Lands End switch my focus from the husband and wee ones, to moi. Hmmm. “Maybe we can ALL benefit”, I think.

Only problem for me is… there’s no telling when that teeny virtual cart gets too full. When you’re actually at the store, you know you’re nearing your limit through visual cues. For example, you can no longer see in front of you and accidentally nick the heels of random shoppers or navigate into some corner display, taking down some tired employee’s creation.  And steering takes on a new form. Nothing says “You’re done, Lady” like a cart with wheels that no longer spin, a 180 degree turning radius and obnoxious fishtail. 

But my virtual cart just… kept… filling. And I adored the convenience so. I am rewarded when I type those Promo codes and watch those fees fall.  And I’m sure the kids and husband will just love my new Lands End winter boots. Oh, and the cool stuff I got for them too.

How about you? Are you an online or in store shopper? Do you take advantage of layaway programs? I think that’s a must for me next year. Even with the gracious Sears giftcard, and the new friendship with all things virtual, this Momma’s tired. Any tips for me?

This post is inspired by the good grace of Sears, who offered us the splendid exercise of a capturing our holiday shopping experience in exchange for a Sears giftcard.

Filed Under: Holidays, Humor, JerseyMomsBlog Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , ,

A Premature Christmas Music Break

December 9, 2011 By 4 Comments

When one of the local radio stations started jingling those silver bells and roasting those chestnuts over an open fire, I tuned in.  I belted out the ballads, shed a few tears over my personal sentimental favorites, and giggled over the mischievous kid who would surely get nothing for Christmas.  At the time, the weather seemed crisp, and I needed a hat and gloves at the bus stop, so my mood encouraged me to embrace the holiday music.  Now I need a holiday break – because I committed an error not unlike Hermie betraying the elves with his desire to become a dentist – I listened to Christmas music too early.

When I was a little kid, I would await the early December day that my mom would unearth our Christmas records from my dad’s basement workshop.  Christmas in New York, John Denver and the Muppets, The Nutcracker and a Mantovani album that we tolerated for our parents’ sake…records we listened to over and over, raising our anticipation to 8-foot tall, pine fresh Christmas tree heights.

Although we adored the music, we never thought to dig up the records ourselves and play them in mid-July.  Maybe, in part, because my mom refused our assistance in independently operating the record player.  Just blame me.  She’ll be the first to publicly announce how I broke the record player arm because I assumed that “I can do it by myself!”  (Ever heard that refrain before?!?)  Although it’s an annoying story for me to endure, kudos to my mom for trying to foster independence in her children.  I don’t know that I would have offered a similar responsibility to mine.  But I digress… [Read more...]

Filed Under: "Un"Culture, Family, Holidays, Humor, M. B. Sanok, Mind-Body-Spirit
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