SPRING TRAINING... MINUS THE TRAINING.

Ah, it's March and that means Spring is in the air... Actually, here in Los Angeles, Spring was in the air in December and pretty much all through January...  and I'm pretty sure I spotted Summer one weekend in February.... So forget the air part. It's just March. And that means a lot of things...

For starters, for the past couple of years, every March I seem to make it my mission to cleanse. I want to clean house. To clean body. To clean mind. Without fail though, having just spent the two months prior to March making excuses, mentally, as to why postponing all my "cleansing" resolutions is probably better in the long run, the LONG RUN actually catches up with me and I find myself high tailing it into "time to get your sh*t together" mode come March 1st.

So here we are. And hey, so far, so good.

Here's the current state of affairs:

1. Body

I did actually cleanse. Kind of. 

Thanks to an extremely popular juice company that offers individual juices, or 3 or 5 day kits, I signed up for a 5 day cleanse. By the end of day two though, I must admit, I was beyond ravenous and couldn't stop thinking about hummus. Go figure, hummus, of all things. Not one to talk myself off ledges, I caved in and cut up a cucumber (how bad can a cucumber be), and dipped it (okay, COVERED IT) in hummus. Craving satisfied.... Next day, however, I had to be on set for a project I was working on with Lifetime Moms and realized I had only taken two juices (out of 6) with me for an entire day. One of the models on set suggested I just drink lemon and hot water for the rest of the day and/or see if the caterer could just blend my food... so it would be kind of like juice/fluids. Um.... I'm gonna let you sit with that one and give you the opportunity to imagine how much that did NOT happen and how much I was seen grazing at the craft services table for the rest of the day.

2. Mind

It turns out, "poop talk" can help with literacy.

A month or two ago, I was in sort of a disciplinary standoff situation with Jonah. He was constantly silly, constantly using bathroom language, and even talking back. I had to figure out a way to get back to the consequence basics and figure out what I could take away that was his Kryptonite. (Turns out, not much phases him).

However, one day, I got a report from his teacher that he had been talking back. Apparently, he remarked that what they were going to be doing was "stupid." I died. Read the whole story here. 

Things have calmed down since then and his behavior has shaped up. Not sure if it's my new-found resolve, or a miraculous maturity development for him,  OR the fact that he had been begging to get hot lunches at school and I told him that if I get a week straight of a perfect report, I'd let him get it. So... The good news: We're in the 2nd week of hot lunch land and therefore, mornings are now a breeze for me. The bad news: They serve f**king ice cream. I'm telling myself the organic part makes it better. But I digress...

He was recently given a few books from the Captain Underpants series and when I first read one to him, and he nearly choked laughing so hard, I thought.... Hmm. Maybe not the right book for a kid that has a hard time holding back the fart, poop, pee talk. At dinner. 

But... last night, he begged me to do a mad libs type section of one of the books and I thought of an idea. 1) If he takes this silly talk outside of this dedicated silly talk time, he loses UNO (our favorite family activity), electronics, TV, and all of these books. At the same time. For one week. 2) He needs to sound out the words and try to read to ME.

Turns out POOP is a wonderful word to teach early language development and reading skills. He nailed it.

3.  House

I stopped caring about having an organized closet.  I blame this on the long episodes of Downton Abbey. There's more important things to focus on...

It's hard to believe that exactly 2 years ago, I met Robin Saperstein of High Heel in a Haystack, she helped me with a Wardrobe Overhaul, then sent me on my way with a ton of outfit options (from my own closet!)  Since then, I've updated my wardrobe cautiously and done my best to keep my closet tidy. But hey, life gets busy and Matthew Crowley and Lady Mary get married and the whole thing goes to poop. (See #2). So, it was time to call on my girl and have her come over and remind me why certain jeans should be left in 2011.

In about 3.5 hours, I had a completely new and organized closet, and could see what I was workin' with. (Before and after pic above).  According to Robin, I'm actually all set for Spring ... AND we even shopped my closet and reinvented some clothing. Why say goodbye to my very first and favorite JBrand jeans with the big gaping holes in the knees, which I've already had patched to create a semi distressed look, when I can have them repatched and destressed AGAIN?! Additionally, Robin recommended I take a cute purple dress from JCrew and have the it shortened, and the trim brought up to give it a fresh and current look. Not bad for a total of $36 bucks right? ("Before" pics taken at the Tailor's. Dress pinned. Forgive the "selfies.").

All in all, Spring is off to a good start. I'm heading to Seattle this weekend with P on behalf of the 2 Days in Seattle Campaign (SO excited) and next week, the story featuring that mysterious trip I took in November will be featured in Ladies Home Journal. Did I mention Tina Fey is on the cover? Feeling pretty lucky right now. Forget New Year's resolutions. I love March.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY: HOW DO I SAY THIS POLITELY....

And a very happy February to you too....

GET DOWN ON IT

So.... you know how I tried that whole "go to your room and spew obscenities" thing a couple weeks back? Well, yeah... So it worked. For a brief period... For a few days, I went without hearing my little 38 pound mad scientist/dictator grunt his favorite one word: "fuckit." When he needed to get out the "dammits" and the "assholes," he fled to his room for some quality-tourrettes- alone-time and re-emerged relieved and ready to talk about worldly and important things like how we need to start bringing money to school because they're trying to help "the poor HOPEless people" or how in heaven WE (me and him) will "share a big, big house and God will taaaaalk. toooo. US. LIIIIIKE. THIIIIIIIS." While they haven't necessarily explained that we (Jews) don't entirely believe in heaven, I'm thinking that at least his Jewish Preschool is teaching the kids from an early age the importance of giving back and that they shouldn't, OY, god forbid forget about they're mothers. Clearly, guilt, like writing, is a learned skill. And if he's to be a dahctah, he should learn everything he can... NO? But I digress...

Okay, so this language issue/obsession, for a moment in time, seemed quelled. (Not withstanding our current battle over the word "stupid," which he thinks his hilarious despite my attempt to Westside parent his ass about how utterly tragic it would be to be a "stupid person, who essentially has a BROKEN BRAIN....") I've realized, however, I may have a bigger battle on the horizon (Dear God, I think I just quoted the last line in his Transformers book): MUSIC.

While a 4-year old calling everyone and everything "stupid" is nothing to brag about, having your child bust out a little dance move and sing "You sexy and you KNOW it!" does not entitle you to mother of the year award either. OBVIOUSLY, he hears these provocative and (entirely inappropriate) songs while driving with adults... So it's not entirely his fault for being the sponge that he is. But here's the thing: There's actually nothing we can listen to on the radio that's appropriate. Turn on any station. Right now, someone is either putting their back into IT, shaking IT, getting down on IT, or making someone sweat from IT. There's even a lovely little ditty in which the singer tells a "honey" they look better with the lights off. (That one's a real gem).

In thinking about wanting to set a good example, I've tried in the past few days to redirect his attention to some of the music he used to enjoy like Mary Poppins, Wizard of Oz, and his rabbinical all time favorite, Siman Tov. (For those of you familiar with the ultimate Bar Mitzvah or Jewish Wedding song, imagine that on a loop for 45 minutes. GUN. TO. HEAD.) I even turned to my XM Disney Kids station in hopes that we could be saved. What song came up? Miley Cyrus' "Party in the USA." (Oh, yeah, 'cuz "moving your hips like 'yeaaaaaaaah'" sets a great fucking example. Literally).

I don't know. Call me crazy, but I think I'm going to give up on this issue entirely until I figure out the best course of action for this language and vocabulary battle we continue to have. Actually, call me STUPID. Because when it comes to this parenting issue: My. brain. is. BROKEN.

HELP!

PARENTING ADVICE: F**K IT

A couple years ago, I wrote a post when I worked at Momlogic about Parenting from the Gut. I had decided that my all things Westside and Neurotic was getting out of control and I'd try to listen to my instincts instead of flocking to the gurus that I had (still am) been paying good money to, to tell me what kind of pajamas my toddler should wear in mid October.

Sure... that "laissez faire," whatever works mentality works sometimes, but there is one area in particular that my own "here's how I'm going to handle this" strategy has been failing big time: Potty Talk with a capital Shit. My 4 year old has been swearing like a truck driver and literally nothing I do or don't do works. Last year, it was all Poop and Pee all the time. J's teacher suggested every time he says Poop or Pee out of context like he has Turret's that I quickly swoop him up and take him to the bathroom as if to say (and actually say), "Oh, you're saying Poop. That must mean you need to go...." Yup. That worked for a week. Then there was the "next time you say that, time out/toy taken away/done playing/no TV blah blah blah" phase. Then there was the "do nothing" phase.... which maaaaaaay have lead to bigger words being spewed like "Stupid. Dammit. Asshole. Shit." And his number one favorite, which he actually will only whisper because he knows just how bad it is: "Fuckit" (Said as one word).

Now before you go judging me and wondering where this angel gets this foul and massively inappropriate vocabulary, allow me to assure you that if, I repeat IF it comes from me it would never be on purpose and only during moments, at least for me, when I'm driving and people don't know how to signal or stop short or drive. really. at all. (Yes, I'm working on my road rage). And it's certainly not from watching Real Housewives or any of that garbage. In fact, if it comes from his exposure to media at all, then the fucking Backyardigans are really the ones to blame... But I digress...

Though his language has been a little extreme, I can say proudly (er, um... as proudly as a mother of a child with this problem should be) that this is language he DOESN'T use at school, but DOES use in proper context. Case in point, the other day: I had to return something to Zara. The manager and sales associate were being complete biatches and extraordinarily rude. When I walked away from the counter in a huff (with J in tow), he asked me why we had to go, I said, out loud, so the two B's could hear me: "Because they're NOT being very helpful."

J: Mommy, were they mean?

Me: Yes.

J: Mommy, should we call them assholes?

I laughed. Yes. I laughed. And in my opinion, the fact that he was able to identify the store manager as an asshole means he is good at reading people. That will save him years of bad relationships. I mean, he was a little off on wanting to call her "Dammit" a few minutes later, but I totally caught his drift. AND yes, I know this is not okay to encourage this behavior which is WHY, I pulled his preschool director aside the other day and told her about my little fouled mouth friend and asked her what in the fuck I should do...

So, her advice: Tell him that we have a new plan. From now on, when he needs to say not nice words, he must go into his bedroom or bathroom, shut the door, and say them to himself. It's private and those words are hurtful and not acceptable, especially not acceptable when you're saying them to your mommy. He must not use this language only in private.

Well, when I picked him up from school and he called me a stupid poop head, I seized the opportunity and told him the new plan. You have never seen a child so excited to get home and close the door by himself. For about 30 seconds I heard, "stupid. shit. dammit. asshole. fuckit. awful. poo poo. pee pee. throw up." Then he came out, took a deep breath and said he was all done. Not ONE bad word has been uttered outside his room since and I swear he has been in a great mood for like 2 days straight. This may have been the best parenting advice I've gotten yet.

We'll see how it fucking goes...

Speaking of parenting advice, here's some of my favorite nuggets of advice I pulled together for Momversation & YouTube. Enjoy ;-)

A LOT OF LOVE

From the back seat....

J: Mommy, how much do you love me?

Me: Soooooooo, much.

J: How much? (Opening his hands). This much?

Me: Oh, way more.

J: How much more?

Me: To the moon and back, around the world 98 million times, to the bottom of the ocean floor and up, then around the world again. That much.

J: I love you that much too.

Me: I'm so glad.

J: NO. Mommy. NO. I love you... (Opening his arms). To the roof, to the neighbors, to Disneyland, all the way to the beach, and down Coldwater Canyon, and around the world 47 hundred 3, 5, zero, times. I love you that much.

Me: Wow, that's a lot.

J: Yeah. It's a lot... And do you know what else?

Me: What's that?

J: It's really far to the moon.

Me: I know.

J: What's a moon rock?

Me: That's a good question.

J: Do you know. What. I. Want. To. Be. Um, mommy, mommy, mommy. Do. You. Know. What. I. Want. To. Be-

Me: Yes?

J: Do. You. Know. What?!

Me: What darling?

J: I want to be an ASTRONAUT on Halloween.

Me: An astronaut. Okay! Very cool.

J: Can you get that for me, Mommy?

Me: I'll see what I can do.

J: Mommy, what will you be?

Me: A pretty mommy.

J: No, mommy. Something else. How about a princess?

Me: I like princesses--

J: A princess with a tutu. And a wand.

Me: That would be fun.

J: Yeah. And you can come trick o treating with me. Okay?

Me: Thanks baby. I'd love that.

The car ahead of me sits at a light.

Me: (Under my breath) Come on, dude.

J: Mommy! No! That's a not nice word.

Me: What did I say?

J:. You. Cannot. Say. Dude.

Me: You're right. It doesn't sound very nice. I was frustrated.

J: But Mommy. I'm very disappointed.

Me: You're... You're disappointed?

J: Yes. When we get to Daddy's, you are going to have a time out.

Me: (Holding in my laughter) Oh, my goodness.

J: No IFTS, ands, or butts, mommy. That's the rule.

Me: Oh... You are in charge?

J: Yes, I am in charge. I am the boss. You cannot say not nice words.

Me: You're right, Jonah. I need to think about my language.

J: Never, never, again, Mommy.

Me: Never.... You're pretty angry at me. Huh?

J: I will still love you though.

Me: How much?

J: That much. (Uses his fingers).

Me: That's a lot less than before.

J: I'm still very disappointed.

XO

PRETTY PLEASE

For several months, Baby-Ko's language has really started to bloom. He's definitely mastered Mommy, Daddy, Up, Down, Baba (bottle), Bye-Bye and a slew of other "common" (no shit) words that a 17 month old might say. But what I find to be so funny about hearing this little person speak is some of the other words that he's decided to include in his repertoire. Moon, "Okee-Dokee," Deer (one of our neighbors has a fake deer on their lawn. Don't ask) and other little shticks we have like .... "Baby-Ko, who's your favorite Laker?" and he says, "Koobee." Brilliant. Or my husband's favorite show off phrase, "Baby-Ko, who's your favorite Dodger," and he says, "Manny."

Yet, no matter what I do, I can't get him to say the word "PLEASE." I'm no Emily Post, but I've heard that it's important to start to teach manners early on. I've been trying really hard to get him to say it when he wants something. Like every other word that I try to teach him, I repeat it, "Say, 'More, pleeaaase, mommy. Pleeease." Nothing. Just a "moooooooooore!" and a temper tantrum and me giving him whatever it is that he wants. He just will not say it. But, if I drop something on the floor and mutter "Crap," for the rest of the day you might hear my litttle one shouting "Cap. Cap!" Or today, I was on the phone and said something about (me) being "dumb." For the next 5 minutes, I heard, "Dup. Dup!" (I can only assume he agreed that I was in fact "Dup.") Yesterday, my mom's friend looked at him and said, "Boy are you 'Adorable!'" He smiled (as if to say thank you) and then said, "Aduuwabel." I mean.... Really? Adorable? A four syllable word but  you can't say, "Please?" The easiest word other than "No" and you can't say it? Seriously?!

No matter how hard I try on this one, I've got to say, I think my kid isn't going to budge on this one. I think he knows what I want and this is his first instance of independence and defiance. I think he's gonna say Please and Thank you when he's ready to say it. In the meantime, with the amount of repeating he's doing, I definitely need to stop talking like a truck driver as much as I do. Because hearing him say "Pass the fucking baba, PLEAASE" isn't exactly what Emily Post is going for...