I bought tickets to a concert (MARIAH!) the other day.

I was thrilled that I could print them on my computer and have them in my hand within 5 minutes.

I was not happy that I had to pay $2.50 to do this. It makes no sense. I'm doing the work. Why do I have to pay someone else when I'm using my electricity, time, and printer ink?

Maybe that's petty, but it's just the principle.

It made me think about mommy and me class. Something else that I think produces a great end result, but question the process.

Don't get me wrong, when Morris was 5 months old I was the first mom banging down The Gymboree door for entry. I didn't want his Ivy League dreams crushed because I hesitated in his infant years.

It was a good experience and something I definitely recommend for first time parents. I really benefited from the bonding with Morris, and it was great to be around other first time parents for the socialization. The discussions helped to ease a lot of my first time parenting concerns.

Now, the second child is a whole nother avenue.

5 months came for Bronson and i sat him in his Boppy pillow in the playroom with Morris. There's your bonding and stimulation, kid, enjoy.

I logged on facebook daily and chatted with friends-hello socialization.

Didn't really have many parenting concerns this go round. I'm an old pro now.

But, around 10 months, the guilt started kicking in. Morris had been to 3 different mommy and me classes by this age, and poor Bronson had barely seen the world outside of his house and whatever his brother was doing.

I caved.

I took him to a local class and HATED IT.

Why was I such a scrooge? I was annoyed by all predictable questions of the parents, the silly songs gave me a headache, the "nutritional snack" was the same stuff I gave at home, and I was the one doing all the work during free play.

I can do all this (and more) from the comfort of my home for FREE!

So, I have chilled out on the mommy and me experience. Bronson gets all his daily experience organically and I am a much happier mom.

I am happily blowing bubbles and singing "Twinkle Twinkle" in mi casa for FREE!

The torch has officially been passed...there is a positive side to hand-me-downs.

It is very rare that I come across something edible that can be enjoyed by me, Bronson, AND Mo.

But recently I found something that can be eaten with pleasure by baby, preschooler, mom, and grandma.

Trader Joe's Pear Sauce.

It has only 6 ingredients: Bartlett pears, water, pear juice concentrate, lime juice concentrate, lemon juice concentrate, natural flavor. I'm not a label nut (who has time to read that crap?) but it makes me feel somewhat like a responsible mom when I'm giving the kids (and myself) something with a little nutritional substance.

The best thing about this stuff is the the texture. You know how applesauce is so mushy and slimy? The pear sauce has texture and tiny bits of pear, so there is no confusion as to if you're drinking it or eating it.

When I worked in a nursing home, I would get so grossed out whenever I saw applesauce. The patients ate it like they were drinking soup. It was so watery and gross. I developed an aversion to it. 

My only complaint about the pear sauce is that there are only 4 containers per pack. Seriously, this stuff is so good, I ate 2 cups without even blinking, and even dipped into the cup the boys were sharing. Me and Mo were were fighting over the last cup. Poor little Bronson didn't even stand a chance. We just ignored his grunts and grimes for more like he were asking for a diaper change.

Yes, Trader Joe's pear sauce is definitely a winner. Go get it before I beat you to it.

I finally caved and took my first flight with the boys.

It wasn't pretty.

I will never snarl or turn my nose up at a mom with kids on a plane again.

Where do I begin?

I could tell you about how I almost single handedly gave every passenger on flight 84 a concussion while trying to carry the stroller/car seat down the airplane aisle (Note to airplane manufacturers, please widen the aisle to accommodate these conversion chairs as well as to allow Bronson to crawl without disruption of the beverage passing process).

I could tell you about when Morris and Bronson were hanging in the back of the airplane and in my aching hip and elbow's desperation for a break, I put Bronson down and didn't care that he and Morris were playing with the emergency exit door lever.

I could tell you about the pile of snacks Bronson threw on the floor that could probably feed the entire state of Rhode Island.

I could tell you that Bronson's favorite airplane activity was hanging out in the tiny closet, I mean bathroom, and exploring all the contraptions, but that would be far too embarrassing.

I could tell you about how Morris made such a scene on the airplane that the nice girl sitting next to me voluntarily gave up her seat (midflight) so Mo could be closer to me (and further from her).

I could tell you that I stopped counting at 40 regarding the number of times Bronson kicked the chair in front of him.

I could tell you how there is something about the air pressure in the cabin that makes a sippy cup erupt like Old Faithful when you open it and how my row and the entire row in front of me left smelling like warm Very Vanilla Silk Soymilk.

Oh yes, I could go on and on about the glorious tales of my travels, but I'll let Bronson tell you more...

I'm all ready to take my first airplane nap...got my pjs on, and my blankie, just need my goodnight kiss from mommy.

yawn....Yeah, I'm gonna pass on the in flight movie.

Yeah, I got it...my seat is also a flotation device (so is mommy).

Wake me when they start passing the pretzels. GOING...

Going....

NOPE! I DECIDED TO STAY AWAKE FOR THE NEXT 4 HOURS.

I just realized that I barely have any photos with my boys.

But, most moms I talk to are in the same boat.

It seems as if we're always the ones taking or directing the picture taking, so we never seem to be in any.

So, I wanted to post photographic proof for my boys to see that I actually do exist.

Of course, they're not the best shots, but I'll take what I can get. At least they know they weren't raised by wolves.

Bronson was THRILLED to take this one. 

Morris is always ready to entertain his bro.

This is as good as it's gonna get.

Lately I've been trying to figure out how to balance being "mommy" and being "Nora."

I realized that when I write blog entries, I am in "mommy" mode. When I'm on facebook or on the phone with a friend, I'm in "Nora" mode. Sometimes I feel bi-polar trying to balance the 2 personalities.

When I write here, I am constantly imagining that Morris and Bronson are reading and I don't want to set a bad example or say something they might question as far as integrity or kindness goes. Then I feel like I'm setting a bad example, thus being a bad mom.

Even when I'm at the park or on a playdate with them, I find it hard balancing mommy mode and "me". I'm constantly putting on a smile and trying to be perfect mom. Especially when I know they're watching.

Do all moms live to please their kids like this?

But when I'm away from them, all that goes out the window. Does that make me a mommy freak?

It's kind of hard to explain. But I hope someone knows where I'm coming from.

As a mom, I think we all tend to lose ourselves a little. It's so easy to do.

I'm constantly telling Mo, "Don't eat candy. It's so bad for you. You'll get cavities."

But, who am I kidding? I'm secretly wanting him NOT to eat it so I can have it. I've got a filling in almost all my molars from my childhood love affair with purple Jolly Ranchers and pineapple and banana Now and Laters.

Or I often say, "Don't call that kid a jerk or douche Mo, that's inappropriate."

But, let someone cut me off on the road, Biatch please...

I guess it's just part of the motherhood journey. I'm still searching for my balance. I need to be a good mom, and a happy person.

How do you balance the two?

Once upon a time I was playing with a stranger's keys minding my own business.

Then, it dawned on me...

P-U...something stinks.

I'm just gonna head over to this area.

Much better!

THE END

Many times I hear parents comment on other children, "What a pretty little girl", and it's actually a boy.

I get it, some little babies look so "pretty" that strangers assume it's a girl. Especially when the kid has a lot of hair (as in Morris's case).

We live in a society that obsessed with "pretty" babies.

But, with a little detective work, it's generally easy to decipher a boy from a girl despite the long locks.

Morris was always dressed in "boy" attire: blues, black, browns. Skeletons, pirates, super heroes. But it never failed, someone would always say, "she's so pretty."

I know, it's an honest mistake. People are just being nice.

So, when I was at the park the other day, I saw the most handsome baby boy. He was dressed in a really fancy mint green and brown outfit. He was cute and chunky and had the most beautiful bald head. The mom was holding him high and just blushing over him but you could tell she was exhausted(must be a first time mom). When she brought him over to swing next to Bronson, she looked over at me with a forced tired smiled.

I normally don't like to talk on the swings, but I remember how nice it made me feel (especially when I was on my last leg) when someone would compliment my son.

Me: Good morning.

Tired mom with cute baby boy: Oh hi.

Me: Your son is so handsome. I love his bald head. My boys were both born with so much hair. I really get a kick out of seeing bald boys.

Tired mom with cute baby: It's a girl.

Why didn't I just keep my mouth shut and mind my own business?

When it comes to hair it seems like I know what it feels like to have a girl. Morris was born with an insane head of hair.

By the time he was 1, he had a mushroom hairdo.

By the time he was 2, he was sporting a Kelly McGillis bob.

Now, at age 5, he has a curly ponytail longer than most females I know.

He uses more hair product than I do.

After trying out every brush on the health and beauty aisle, I finally made my life easier and got him a Mason Pearson brush. It was well worth the money. Curly hair looks really pretty, but it is such a pain to maintain.

So, when Bronson was born, I was perplexed that he didn't have the same mane as morris.

Then i got happy. A boy, with actual low maintanence boy hair.

We took Bronson for his first haircut and I got so excited to see him with his little boy hairdo.

They actually got to use clippers on him as opposed to numerous hair clips, gel, and 2 types of scissors.

It took less than 5 minutes!

He didn't even cry. He just had this "Whatchu Talkin About Willis?" look on his face the whole time.

So, I am enjoying Bronson's boy hairstyle. And I can't help but wonder if it will inspire Morris to cut his locks one day.....

What do you think?

Before the big haircut

AFTER!!! It's a boy!

The next day

Sex and the City star, Sarah Jessica Parker and her husband, Matthew Broderick (I remember him best from "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and "Election") have welcomed baby girl twins. Woo hoo! Jimmy Choo stock just went up 20 points.

Their girls Marion Loretta Elwell Broderick weighed 5 pounds and 11 ounces, and that Tabitha Hodge Broderick weighed 6 pounds. I'm sure the little darlings are already budding fashionistas.

The twins were born via surrogate mother Monday. The couple has a 6 year old son, James.

Congratulations to them.