Mom, there is something serious I really need to talk to you about.

I'm not sure how to say it, because you get kind of sensitive sometimes.

Nevermind, I'm just gonna take a quick nap instead.

I was just kidding. Ok, well...

...hold on a sec, I'm trying to figure out how to get these Cheetoes open.

Oh, OK....I'm gonna quit stalling...you might wanna sit down for this...

Well, you see how my feet are kind of hanging off my infant seat now?

Being that I'm 11 months and all, you can probably...

...take me out of that baby seat more often. I can stand up ya know? Like a big boy.

...and I'll be up walking and cooking you breakfast before you know it.

Thanks for understanding. I think it's time to transition into the car seat now.

Now, that the infant seat issue is all cleared up, can we talk about the bath situation?

When did I become a waitress? It seems like lately, all I hear is:

"Moooom, I want some milk"

"Moooom, can I have my favorite pasta?"

"Moooom, can I have hot fresh oatmeal for breakfast?"

"Oops, moooom. I spilled."

Lately, my life seems to be revolving around food and the kitchen, but not in a good way.

I'm always packing a snack/lunch, going grocery shopping, steaming/cooking baby food, washing dishes, wiping off tables and placemats, making bake sale/potluck contributions, and picking Cheerios up off the floor. 

Now, I know why they laundry never gets done.

One of the most interesting things about being a mom is how quickly we go into "protective" mode. Did you see Joan Rivers on the Apprentice?

I can't even judge her. I cringe as I imagine a Decatur, GA version of Morris against the Donald in the boardroom. They would cut to a commercial so fast as I lunge over the table for that hairpiece (but I promise to do it gracefully while being smart, stylish, and strong to make sure I represent Hot Mama well).

So, with the all the latest news of the Swine Flu, it's only natural for us to have concerns about protecting our families.

Breezymama provides great and easy to read information regarding Swine Flu. A Pediatrician discusses the symptoms, treatment and why the sudden panic. 

Here is the great interview on how to protect and treat Swine Flu for you and the kids. Check out her other entries too. She also has other useful information and updates regarding Swine Flu.

When I was little, I remember waking up with a major crick in my neck from trying to sleep with a head full of pink sponge rollers.  Remember those? Those pink sponges were so absorbent you could wash a minivan with just 2. And, boy did they hurt when you tried to take them out.  My hair always got stuck in the crevices, or maybe it was the Aqua Net I used to help "hold" the curls.

I grew up in the 80s when hair was all about BIG and CURLY. And if being IBTC President wasn't enough for my self esteem, I had BONE STRAIGHT HAIR! Let's not even talk about the braces and glasses. Good times.

So, I guess they're right when they say everything skips a generation. Thank goodness the Hair Gods were on my kids' side. But does it really count since they're boys?  They could really care less.

I asked Morris if he wanted to get his hair cut off (he's had 6 regular "trims" already) and all he cared about was whether or not he would get a lollipop. I told him he would be starting Kindergarten soon, and may want to get a shorter cut.

Morris: Sometimes kids call me a girl because I have long hair.

Me: How does that make you feel?

Morris: I don't care. Yesterday at the park, this boy and his mom called me a girl. I told them I was a boy, and they laughed.

Me: That's good you used your words.

Morris: Then I said if you call me a girl again I'll punch you in the face.

Me: Hmm...What did his mom say?

Morris: She said, yeah, you're definitely a boy.

So, Morris got the hair that every girl wants: long, thick, and curly with natural highlights of caramel and honey. Some boys have all the luck.

Bronson got the hair that all rock stars dream of, a natural mohawk. I guess Morris had the foresight of knowing this because he picked out his brother's middle name, "Rocco the Rock Star." Funny how things happen. I'm sure when Bronson is 45 years old and CEO or an ultra conservative insurance company he will appreciate his mohawk.

Luckily, I can rest easier at night knowing my boys won't have hair issues. I'm also happy because the pink sponge rollers are a thing of the past. Straight is back in! Brazilian blowouts for all the girls.

Birthday parties are one of the best perks to having children.

Seriously, what more can you ask for? It's a playdate for the kids and BIRTHDAY CAKE for us! So, each weekend I eagerly inspect the birthday party schedule and prepare for the cakefest. 

There was one upcoming party I was really looking forward to.

1. It was less than a mile from my house (in case I was in a drunken stupor from cake overdose, I would be fine).

2. They have 2 kids close to my kids' age, so both boys would have fun (and be occupied).

3. The mom is a friend of mine and throws a pretty good party (TRANSLATION: There will be grown up food, not that I'm above Goldfish and cheese pizza, but this mom usually puts out a good adult spread).

So, the whole family dons our best birthday threads: the boys in matching outfits (yes, I have become one of THOSE moms), and me in jeans and a clean shirt (this is considered sprucing up for me).

Bronson took a 3 hour nap in the morning. So he will be rested and ready for a full afternoon of activity. Also, the sun is shining and it's a beautiful LA day. We arrive to the party a little early, and I'm delighted to find a parking spot right up front. Alright! It's gonna be a good day. The party gods are on my side.

We grab the gift and walk up to their house. Morris loves to ring the bell, so I oblige. Good thing he pressed it twenty  or a hundred times because there is probably so much chaos inside from all the party buzz. The party hostess finally answers:

Her: (with big eyes and a puzzled look on her face) Ah hey guys.

ME: (being that I graduated college with honors, my astute brain has already started surveying the evidence: no food spread, no party decorations, no one in attendance but me and my family) Umm. Wow. You don't even have to say it. I just realized your party is SUNDAY and not SATURDAY.

Her: (starting to freak out) OMG, did I put "today" on the invite? Oh no, it's totally MY fault.

ME: (feeling smaller than Bronson) Nah, it's my fault. I goofed, I'm a day early (trying to get outta there as quickly as possible, gosh, I feel like a major moron).

Her: (sensing I feel like a major moron) Um, it was nice seeing you though. See ya again tomorrow.

Seriously, it felt like we were standing on her porch in Halloween costumes on July 1. Or asking a woman when her baby's due, and she says she delivered 2 months ago. We turn to leave and here's the worst part:

Morris: Mom?.....

Me: Yes honey...

Morris: That was embarrassing.

Morris: What mom? You told me to babysit.

Bronson: This is almost better than breastfeeding.

I never realized what a task it is for a mom to take a decent picture with her 2 kids.  Now I know why there are no pictures of me with the boys.  It just takes too much work.  Wow, you would have thought we were shooting for Cosmo with all the shots we were taking.  Here's a peek...and these are the "good" ones!

If only I could get Bronson to look...

"Why does Morris look fuzzy?"

"Morris looks like he's disappearing Mommy."

"Wait a minute, now what's happening to ME?" Read more...

The boys and I went for a walk today and wandered into a shop advertising "Spring Dresses $35."  I'm not one known to pass up a good sale, so we hustle in.  Morris is so good at helping me to pick out things that "look pretty" so I indulge him and take the pukey brown dress, the tie-dyed frock that looks more like an old kitchen apron, and a skimpy number that resembled an art project he painted.  

Morris is so excited that I'm gonna try on the dresses he picked out and bogarts his way into my dressing area.  Meanwhile, Bronson happily chews away on Goldfish in his infant seat (ok, 10 months old is pushing it for the infant chair, but it's soooo easy).  I slip the first one on over my mom uniform (dirty jeans and a crusty tank top with a blend of 2 different perfumes and deodorant because I have now worn it 2 days in a row, not to mention to bed last night because I was too tired to change).  I oooh and ahhh over it, but Morris gives it a thumbs down.  On to the next number, same thing.  As I'm slipping on the final halter dress I have the following conversation with my extremely patient and curious 4 year old:

Me: Honey, thank you so much for picking out these pretty dresses.

Morris: Uh-huh.

Me:  Isn't this fun spending quality time together?

Morris: Uh-huh.

Me: You're being so patient while I try them on.  I can't believe how attentive you're being.

Morris: What's attentive?

Me: Paying attention and not goofing off or breaking things.

Morris: Oh.

Me: Well, this is the last dress, what do you think?

Morris: WHEN CAN I SEE YOUR BOOBS?

As the sales girl gasps outside the dressing room, I notice Bronson gaze up and snicker as if in agreement with Morris.  Do they really start that young?

I never realized how easy it was getting out of the house with a 3 year old until I had another baby.  Why did it seem so hard when I just had one? On my way to pick Morris up from school, I decided it would be a nice idea to eat lunch (for a change) so I phoned in a sushi order.  

Now, don't assume since I live in LA, I'm some kind of sushi freak.  Actually, I just had sushi for the first time a month ago, and have sort of been all over it since.  I'm one of those that when I find something good, I just WEAR IT OUT until I'm sick of it. (BTW, here is a great sushi website for fellow sushi novices) Usually, when I pick Morris up from school, I'm not this adventurous.  There are no stops on the way there and I come directly home after I pick him up. Why complicate things and increase the chance of a meltdown (from any of us)? So, as I'm gearing up for the "big adventure" before pick up, I am appalled at all the necessary gear for a 4 minute stop to pick up my take out order:

1.  Goldfish-Bronson is a happy baby...as long as he has food in his mouth

2.  Cooked carrots- in case we run out of Goldfish.

3.  Pretzel sticks- he likes holding something in his hand (and mouth).

4.  Cup/water- gotta have something to wash down the crudite.

5.  Hat- just in case the warm LA sun gets in his eyes during the 4.6 second walk from the car to sushi place door.

6.  Lyscal carrier- what if he gets cranky in the infant seat and wants to get out? He's getting too heavy to just hold.

7.  Morris's cup- Gotta keep the playing field equal.  Bronson can't have a drink, and Morris not have one.

8.  Mom's water- I can save a buck from the sushi place by bringing my own water (and save even more money by filling up the        old Fuji water bottle with filtered water from the fridge--I love that one).

9.  Baby toy- Just in case Morris isn't ready at pick-up, this will help keep Bronson occupied.

10. Nail clipper- It's so hard to cut Bronson's fingernails.  The easiest way is when he is in the baby carrier holding a pretzel.

Whew.  All this, not to mention MY cell phone, car key, house key, lip gloss, and sunglasses.  I can't believe I never carry a purse.  I must really look like a schmuck with all this crap stuffed into my pockets. I can only imagine if we were making a stop that actually involved activity.

And of course, the whole time Bronson is just sitting in his infant seat while I dart to and fro around the house (like a little squirrel gathering nuts). Just as I pick up the keys to lock up the house, he starts cooing and laughing and looks directly in my eyes.  I think he's saying,

"Mom I will be absolutely fine without all that crap, but if it makes you feel better just bring it."

In LA, it's all about being on "the list."  If you go out to a club, make sure you're on the VIP list. 

Wanna go to a hot movie premiere? Better be on the list. 

Even with popular preschools, your kid's name needs to be on the list when he's an embryo (at least). 

So, if you're a parent in LA, it's only natural that there is a list you should be on as well.  Jen's List, that is. 

It's a popular email list assembled by super mom (and hot mama) Jen Levinson.   You think you're busy as a parent?  Jen is the mom to 5 kids, all boys, and 2 sets of twins.  I won't even try to top that one. Jen is super sweet and is truly a parenting soldier.  She is definitely an advocate for kids and wants to help make us all better parents by providing us with any knowledge she comes across that will help us. Her list contains a wealth of information ranging from kid/family events (fairs, concerts, fundraisers, sales, etc), great baby products/stores, recalls, parenting tips, enrichment classes, shopping discount codes, nannies/housekeepers for hire, and anything else related to parenting.

Her list is like the morning paper for mommies. I start every morning off with a glass of fresh squeezed OJ, and Jen's List. This is the only 3 minutes out of the day I give myself permission to ignore the kids. Jen's List is distributed daily to over 7,000 email addresses.  Most of the information is concerning stores and activities in the LA area, but there is plenty of other interesting information that any parent will appreciate.

You think your kid is cuter than the Gerber baby? More talented than Miley? Destined to be the next Olsen twins?

LA talent scouts and casting directors have regular posts for auditions and casting calls.  Some of my favorite posts are the "nanny watch" items. If a parent is out at a local park and sees a nanny smacking a kid around or eating the kid's popsicle or something, they will submit the post to Jen's List so the parents can be found and made aware.  

But, the best thing about Jen's List is that it's FREE!  So hurry and sign up, it's a great way to start your morning. Did I mention it's FREE?!