Last Night I Was Celeb Couple Crushing

I adore the Garner-Afflecks.  Ok, I know no one actually goes by that name, though I am thinking about adopting it as my own now.  Because I just love Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck.  Some moments I want to be Jen’s best friend, sometimes I want them to adopt me as their fourth kid, other times I manifest an intention* for our children to meet and one day marry (Sera would be a great fit for my Gavin or even her son Sam and my Chloe).

Since none of those has yet happened, I resort to soaking up everything about this couple that they offer me up by way of the satellite cable company that beams their images into my house.  Last night’s Oscar show was a smorgasbord of G-A goodness.   Continue reading

Amy Poehler: You Are Funny Sexy Cool

I aspire to be funny.  Occasionally I hit my mark.  Lately I’ve been too high on my soapbox to find the humor.  But my love for hysterical women never wanes.

My current girl crush is Amy Poehler.  In recent years she’s taken a back seat to my love for Tina Fey.  But I’m here to admit I was blind, dear Amy.  I first noticed you, along side my love Tina Fey, in the movie Baby Mama.  It felt like Good Will Hunting all over again.  I was blinded by the obvious and fell for the lead.  Like Ben, however, you are proving to be the shining star in my life.

I was blown away when I found your kick-ass website, Smart Girls at the Party, encouraging young women to “change the world by being yourself.”  I love seeing pictures of you and your two adorable little boys.  You made me laugh on Ellen.

Last night you were nominated for two Emmy awards, Outstanding Lead Actress in a Comedy and Outstanding Writing for a Comedy Series for “Parks and Recreation,” demonstrating the depth of your wit and intelligence before you even arrived.  And then you showed up on the red carpet looking smoking HOT.  Nice work Amy.  What’s not to love?

I have to admit that part of my love for you is my compulsion to pick sides.  If a Team Arnett exists as a result of your split, putting an end to nine years of marriage, I shall be throwing eggs at them while wearing my Team Poehler t-shirt.  What nerve does he have getting so many spray tans?  And sporting a six-pack?  That’s where I draw the line.  I am in a full-fledged fight with your ex-husband.  I don’t care if you say the split is “amicable.”  You take the high road.  I’ll do your dirty work.  That’s just what people in love do.

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In case you missed it, last week on Mommyish I was proud of Pink AND Jessica Simpson and the world did not cease its rotation.

Pink Won’t Be Taunted Into A ‘Catfight’ With Miley Cyrus, Thanks For Trying

Jessica Simpson’s Baby Photos Are Adorably Boring

I also continued my celebration of National Yoga Month at Skinny Mom:

Yoga Poses To Practice With Your Toddler

Nevermind that noise, it’s just my ovaries whining.

Ladies (and the three men that are obligated to read this by marriage or blood) — listen up!  I am in desperate need of your help.   You see, it’s May!

[you nod in confused agreement].

What’s so special about May?  You mean, you don’t know??

May is THE month I get pregnant.  Every other year.

Let’s recap:

May 2008 – after nearly a year of trying, May was the magic month.  That year I shocked the hell out of surprised my husband on Father’s Day by making him breakfast and breaking the news (no, I’m not sure which shocked him more).

May 2010 – armed with the confusion that it took nearly a year to conceive our first, we decided to let nature take its course when I stopped nursing just a few short weeks before.   And a few short weeks later my 15 month old had the positive pregnancy test in his mouth (I was too shocked to grab it away after it dropped from my stunned hand).

So here we are, May 2012.  The kids are sleeping wonderfully (finally).  Ian and I are going on a Caribbean vacation.  Alone (as in no kids).   And I just held the 7 day old baby of one of my best friends (I loved every second of it).  My uterus is feeling kinda lonely…

Come and play with me, I'm a harmless plush uterus!

WAIT, WAIT.  This is craziness!  We cannot have any more children!  Why? you ask.  Well for starters:

1.  I suffer from hyperemesis gravidarum.  Which might just sound like the worst morning sickness ever, but in reality it involves vomiting that scares small children, hospital stays, IVs, threat of miscarriage and generally complete incapacitation.

2.  We live in NYC and are not in the 1%.  Which means the third child will have to sleep in the sink until it’s old enough to move out.

3.  I love sleep.

4.  I need sleep.

5. I finally get to sleep.

This isn't me, but I am sure I look that adorable when I'm rested

What’s that?  Those aren’t good enough reasons?  The joys of motherhood far outweigh these minor details?

Ok, well here are my top five reasons that we should have another child (ranked in order from the most important to the most shallow):

1.  Boobs.

2.  The first time I delivered I almost died, the second time I delivered was the most life-affirming moment I could imagine and now I’m curious what a third February due date would hold.

3.  No periods for another two years.

4.  Because I’m obsessed with baby names.

5.  We have one kid that is my mini-me and another that is my husband’s clone.  What would the in between mix look like?

As you can see, I’m not fit to be a parent to the two I already have, so we can all agree a third is out.  Right?

[please say RIGHT loud enough for my ovaries to hear you]

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WTTM Jennifer Garner!

Today I had two posts in mind — it was going to be either Gavin’s birth story or the harrowing results of his preschool admissions process.  Those will have to wait.

Last night I received the wonderful news (ok, not me personally, but through E! Online) that my soon-to-be BFF Jennifer Garner welcomed a boy into her brood! And on Gavin’s birthday no less!  See, we are getting closer to a real friendship every day.

Even though it’s not her first child, I want to welcome Jennifer Garner to the wonderful world of mommying a boy.  It’s a whole different world than the pretty pink one you’ve been living in my friend.  Get used to bruises, toy car crashes, and a whole new relationship with urine.

Let me tell you, those tiny fire-hoses spray everywhere.  During the diaper stage, it’s best to anticipate the projectile pee at every change.  Even with those nifty tee-pee things, expect to get a shot or two in the mouth.

I know I said I wanted to be a model, but this is not what I had in mind. I need a new agent. Where's Jerry Maguire?

During the potty stage, you know your face will be safe, but that’s all.  You will find pee on the seat, over the seat, under the seat, in the bathtub, in the bath toys and on the vanity.  Pretty much anywhere in the general vicinity of the bathroom is fair game.

Just be happy I'm actually in the bathroom.

You can also expect your son to love you in a way that a daughter can’t.  Your daughters will model you and need your help and guidance, but your son will cherish you and need you purely for love and comfort.

Welcome to the Motherhood of boys Jennifer Garner!  I eagerly await the release of your perfectly crafted baby name.

And if it’s Gavin, I may just have cause to have that restraining order reversed (who’s stalking who now?).

Hello world!

I did a lot of mom blog research and despite what I found I decided to start my own.

Reading hundreds of other blogs made me cry, made me laugh, made me angry and gave me lots of thoughts about toilet-training.  Most importantly it inspired me to chronicle my own adventures, foibles, my ‘oh no’ and ‘aha’ moments, victories and outright missteps as a mom.

My biggest concern lies in the fact that all the blogs I read seem to have certain things in common, that, well, maybe I don’t.

Here are some examples:

1.  Other bloggers: love their kids but find the 24/7 care and feeding of them to be tedious (which is true).

Me:  I love being a mom and wife.  I secretly wish to spend several lifetimes doing nothing but watching my kids play on the playground, preparing cream cheese sandwiches (I said I love being a mom, not that I was good at it), and singing the Sesame Street theme song (without ever even wondering how you actually get to Sesame Street.  Though it is clearly in Brooklyn).

2.  Other bloggers:  hate Gwyneth Paltrow (especially the NYC ones).  Jennifer Garner too (her LA counterpart).  Like highly trained police dogs I think these mom bloggers can smell their 1950s housewife mentality from miles away and are on constant high alert from the mere mention of their names.

Me:   I worship Gwyneth Paltrow.  She can do no wrong in my book.  She loves to cook, she speaks spanish and she practices yoga.  She married a smart and sensitive rock star, she is best friends with Mario Batali and Jay-Z.  She beautifully reads my favorite poem on Classical Baby (All Grown Up…The Poetry Show).  All of this even gets her a pass for dumping Brad Pitt, Shallow Hal and yes, even trying to be a singer.  She’s my mommy inspiration.  Jennifer Garner too.

3.  Other bloggers:  are wildly successful

Me: only my mom will be embarrassed when this blog bombs

Which leads to me to wonder…for the first time on the interweb (though certainly not the last)…am I doing this right?