WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: THESE BOOTS WERE MADE FOR WALKING

...And that's just what they'll do. Kind of.

CHEESECAKE KIND OF GAL

Recently I filmed a branded video for Kraft in which Jill Simonian and I take a quiz to see what the desserts we love say about our personalities. Given my options, I determined I was a cheesecake kind of gal. But in truth, I'm actually a french fry, loaf of bread, butter, and bottle of wine kind of a gal. What that says about my personality? I need to move to France.

Alright, so I want to know, what dessert style are you?

READING MATERIAL

This is the reading material my 3.5-year old would like to keep on top of the facilities....

It's official. I live with a boy.

EMPTY THREATS

I really don't know when it happened. If I could just remember the day it all changed, why it all changed, and how it all changed, I think I'd unlock the key to parenting. When did my child start to need discipline? I mean, DIS.CI.PLINE. Like "do that again and you're grounded for life" discipline. He's only 3. Well, almost 4. And yet it seems like it was just yesterday that I was monitoring milestones and neurotically researching which solids were the best to introduce first. Bananas... peas... Berries, OY. The berries. Who cares that the AAP said you can introduce them as early as 6months. I just spent $300 for a "pediatric food specialist" in the Pacific Palisades who said it was too soon...

Now, I'm changing the tone of my voice, taking deep breaths, negotiating like there's a bomb strapped to my back... Everything has changed. My goal to discipline according to "the plan" is not, well, going as planned. Trust me, I start out as a discipline-like-an-evolved-democrat-voting-parent... but shit. One can only, get down to "their" eye level, talk in a calm but firm voice for so long while their child slams a computer shut or gets out of bed 45 times... The result of failing the "what good parents on the Westside of LA pay thousands of dollars to accomplish" is a big, heavy, and ridiculous dose of the ET's: Empty Threats.

So far, my threats are pretty standard... punishments that fit the crime. But just like the new hilarious book Go the F*** to Sleep by Adam Mansbach (you must listen to THIS audio version), there are a thousand things I'd like to threaten with but never will. Here are some of the ridiculous threats I could spew, and I think you all could do if that button kept getting pushed...

If you do that one more time....

I will throw out all your shoes.

If you do that one more time...

You will not go to prom.

If you do that one more time...

We will never take a vacation.

If you do that one more time...

You will not be able to vote.

If you do that one more time...

You will never go to elementary school.

If you do that one more time...

I'm never teaching you to read.

And the list goes on....

What are some of your biggest, best (and by best, I mean worst) threats you've said... or wanted to say?

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: HOW I FEEL ABOUT BATHING SUIT SEASON

'Nough said.

TOUGH AS NAILS

There's no denying it: I am a worry wort. I have been my entire life. From big to little reasons, I am queen of letting my fears spiral into a rabbit hole. However, HOWEVER--- recurring equally as often as my shpilkes is my strong as shit, tough as nails, warrior-like spirit. The two sides of me- the scared vs. the brave live side by side, hand in hand and somehow manage to live happily ever after together. Here's an example....

Last weekend, while away for a girls weekend to celebrate my BFF's bday, I had a massive headache (3 vodka's in 95 degree weather will do that). Not loaded with my own Advil, I had to gasp, borrow some from my friend. Out of her purse, she pulled a few mismatched pills. Two had IB written on them (but they were green and big), and the others had no names and were white. One of the pills she said had codeine- she thinks- and the other one, with IB written on it, I should just take.

If you were a betting person, based on the fact that I don't feel 100% comfortable taking Advil with even a diet coke, do you think I took any of her pills? UM, no. Instead I went digging through my other friend's purse until I stumbled on good old Advil with clearly written letters. Like I want to go out OD-ing on generic Motrin because they didn't sit well with the Dorritos I had at lunch??? Please. I'm not taking risks like that. No way.

CUT TO: Driving home from Palm Springs. I'm alone in my new car. There is a strip of freeway outside PS that is known to be windy. Well, of course, while I was driving, it was not only super windy, but there was like a mini dust storm too. Hands gripped like I was a student driver, my heart raced. Look, I realize I wasn't braving Hurricane Katrina, but as I felt my car getting tossed slightly from side to side, I had no choice but to bare down and be brave. I had to keep driving. I had to keep going. I had no choice. I was going to have to drive through my nervousness, figuratively and literally.

But how do you teach children how to do this? How do you teach children to face their fears, get through something scary, even if they don't want to (and you can't bear to watch them worry)? Instinctively, I want to quell any and every ounce of fear my child has from big to small, from witches and dragons to bad tasting green veggies- If I could I'd slay them all and he'd never have to worry about anything in life EVER. Except how to rid himself of the mommy issues he'll have as an adult for the very reason I write this post... But I digress...

This past week, Jonah took a swim intensive. I'd call it a class, but honestly, it's more like boot camp for swimming. Within one week, the children, who are all beginners at swim are pretty much swimming and able to hold their breath under water. I knew going in to it that all the children cry for at least the first 3.5 days and some for the entire time. I also knew that though the teacher was reassuring, calm and kind to the children, that NOT swimming was not an option and parents should sit back and watch while he does his magic, tears and all. I knew that this methodology to teach swim was polar opposite to my clearly-my-kid-rules-the-roost methodology, BUT STILL --- I don't think I was prepared for how hard it would be to watch my child sit (or swim, rather) with his own fear. I knew he was safe and I even knew he would walk away knowing how to swim. BUT how do you teach a 3.5 year old that sometimes it's okay to be scared, really scared, and in the end you come out stronger....?

How do you teach a 3.5 year old that fear leads to bravery and strength? I considered telling him about the time I backpacked through Europe for 10 days by myself (not by choice), or the time I had to identify a mugger in a police lineup, or the time I got an epidural at 7cm because I was too scared to get one earlier... But this might be a bit more to chew than a 30 lb human can handle, so I figured I'd keep it simple, and just told him: "I know you're scared. Being scared is okay sometimes. I would never do anything that would hurt you. You are learning something very important for your life. We're going to finish this class."

At the very last class, day 5, he did not cry and did not beg me to take him out of the pool. Instead, he was begging the teacher to take a turn, go under water, jump off the side, and SWIM. It was incredible. I still feel unsure whether this class was right for him and for me, for that matter, but I know we both came out stronger.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: DEEP DISH

On vacation, there are no rules.... Only good pizza...

And graffiti...

Be free my young boy, be free....