So I’m wondering: wouldn’t you much rather hang out in Atlantic City with me than, say, get married?
Such a choice faced Princess Diana this weekend: “Hmmm. Make a lifelong commitment to a beloved partner and follow through on a long-planned, long-anticipated wedding…or drive 125 miles to watch my middle-aged sister get drunk on 1.5 apple martinis, sway sloppily to a cover band playing favorites from her Breakfast Club heyday, and attempt to wrap her addled mind around the not-exactly byzantine rules of roulette?” As any human would, she chose the latter.
In all honesty, I don’t mean to make light of my sister’s canceled wedding, originally scheduled for this past Saturday, May 17 but called off in early February. It was, and will remain for some time, a heartbreak all around. In our reluctance to obsess all weekend about what could have been, we employed the universal, surefire heartbreak salve known as “the girls’ weekend,” demanding overindulgence in food, drink, dance, slots, massages, facials, jacuzzis, and saunas. Princess Diana reserved a suite at the Borgata Hotel & Casino in Atlantic City for herself, me, and two of her bridesmaids.
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Tags: drinking, Miss Monopoly, Princess Diana, the 80s, travel, wedding
Filed under Extended family.
So I’m wondering: Do you actually take parenting and lifestyle advice from your favorite Offsprung bloggers? Would you be interested in a day-long conference covering non-linear career tracks, work/life balance, and paths to a fulfilling career after kids? Do you want to see what G. Xavier and Hausfrau look like from the waist down?
If you answered “yes” to one or more of the above questions; if Waltham, MA isn’t too far a slog for you; and if proximity to the Red Sox doesn’t make you break out in a rash (I’ll be taking my Benadryl, thank you very much), you might consider attending Detours & OnRamps, a forum for issues facing mothers in the workplace. The program will be held on Thursday, May 15 from 8:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. at Bentley College and will be co-hosted by the college and its Women’s Leadership Institute.
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Filed under meta.
So I’m wondering: has your child ever incited a race riot?
A new family recently moved nearby. Fairly typical for our town but somewhat atypical otherwise, the family comprised two gay white men and their adopted African-American two-year-old. Their son was a newish arrival in their lives, and they were all still having attachment issues, so the dads were reluctant to utilize one of our local childcare options, though they did in fact require some sort of childcare. Now, The Spare had been attending this nursery since he was nine months old and, a couple of weeks out from his fourth birthday, was the eminence grise of the joint. So I personally invited the new family to try it; The Spare will show the New Boy the ropes, I said to myself, smugly. (Because The Spare has proven himself sooooo reliable in the past, I should have said, louder.)
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Filed under Behavior issues, Faith, Liberal politics, Punishments.
So I’m wondering: can I get a little sappy on y’all again? It’s been six months since Big One turned seven in October, and now I have a Little One to get all misty-eyed about on the occasion of his own birthday, his fourth. So here goes:
Happy birthday! I fell in love with Daddy maybe a few minutes after meeting him. And the first time I held your brother in my arms, my heart changed forever. But we didn’t become us until you.
Hey! I suppose I flatter myself unduly to say that that last line reminded me of my very favorite poem in the world, by e e cummings. And every time I read it, I think of you.
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Tags: Birthdays, I'm-a-sap, The Spare
Filed under Birthdays, meta.
So I’m wondering: do siblings ever stop conniving and conspiring together?
Lest you think my little angels are up to something, I should point out that the subjects of my consternation this week are my mother, Mr. Monopoly, and her sister, Aunt Dora, whose average age is exactly 60 and yet who just pulled the most adolescent stunt I’ve witnessed them jointly pull since January, when they mercilessly and nonsensically ganged up on the bartending contest judge who’d failed to properly honor my cousin’s entry. (See “Mama Bears and the Perfect Pignoli” on Old Offsprung.) But their latest Lucy and Ethel moment actually resulted in casualties.
Both Big One and nephew Nick (Aunt Dora’s grandson) are on spring break this week, which means that the two granny nannies have been on extended childcare duty. As you know, I work on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. This week was a particularly long one, condensed schedule notwithstanding. I had a business dinner Tuesday after work, down in dreaded “central Jersey,” a frankly pointless area of the state that is convenient to neither New York nor Philly, that lacks the shore points of the south and the mountains of the north, and that, if you ask me, contributes nothing to the state’s admittedly dubious (though colorful nonetheless) character and reputation, of which I am passionately partisan. (Fans of the Brunswicks and the Amboys: I’m kidding. Everyone else: No I’m not.) (Fans of British period miniseries: Doesn’t “The Brunswicks and the Amboys” sound like it could be the next installment of “Masterpiece Theatre”?)
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Filed under Extended family, Sibling issues.
So I’m wondering: Core or Flex?
If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you are clearly not in the Weight Watchers cult. I, on the other hand, am in it up to my (surprisingly slender) eyeballs. I am a Lifetime Member (Class of ‘02), and I would gladly barricade myself behind the walls of a remote weight loss compound along with my chubby comrades, following the commands of Diane, our Group Leader, in the valiant pushback against an armed assault by Ben, Jerry, Mayor McCheese, and the Keebler elves, with only our PointsFinder and a dog-eared Complete Food Companion as protection. 
You might think the tag “Lifetime Member” implies that, beginning in 2002 when I reached my goal weight after losing 90 pounds, I would go to Weight Watchers meetings for the rest of my life. Meh, not so much. Technically, being a Lifetime Member simply allows you to check in at meetings once a month, for no charge, to help you maintain your loss. And I did for awhile, staying thin for two years (in a row!), right up till my third trimester with Little One in 2004. Then I took some time off, recovered, and didn’t pressure myself; I had only 35 pounds to lose, after all, which felt like practically nothing, compared with the 90 I had to lose after having Big One.
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Tags: Big One, Food, Little One, NotClooney, Weight Watchers
Filed under Body image, Eating issues.
So I’m wondering: have you ever stuffed your car so full of groceries that on the drive home your kids had to lie prostrate atop a 36-roll MegaPak of Bounty Big Rolls?
I just finished up one of my irregularly scheduled trips to the wholesale club I belong to. The trips are scheduled irregularly because the club is actually quite a distance from my house. Apparently, big box stores are not welcome in Stereotypical Liberal Utopia, land of tasteful tearooms, organic markets, art house movie theaters, pottery studios, and twee boutiques. Twee boutiques, I have discovered, sell neither the 30 lb. box of Arm & Hammer Super Scoop cat litter, nor the 500-count Tampax Variety Pack. (It’s for the children.) And I don’t fault Stereotypical Liberal Utopia in the slightest; I agree that it would be far less stereotypically liberal and utopian if it did welcome every Tom, Dick, and Wal-Mart that tried to break ground. But God help me, I need my wholesale club, and I’ll drive miles of bad Jersey road to get there.
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Filed under Finances, Household chores.
So I’m wondering: have you ever had more than one child home sick with, umm, intestinal distress?
Spring is never a particularly healthy season in the Haus. We sail through flu season blissfully unaffected, we avoid sunburn and heat stroke and the other dangers of summer, but once March hits, we fall apart faster than Tommy Thompson’s presidential campaign. (Admit it: you’d forgotten all about it.) Little One and I suffer mightily from springtime environmental allergies, which, as they fester, tend to spur all sorts of sinus and respiratory infections in both host sufferers as well as the two innocent bystanders who can’t escape the expectorants flying free-form throughout the Haus, despite the best efforts of Puffs tissues, hand sanitizers, and Lysol spray.
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Tags: allergies, Big One, failed presidential campaigns, Little One, Poop
Filed under Medical issues.
So I’m wondering: was it wrong for me to beat up a Girl Scout?
You probably figure I opened up that particular can of whoop-ass because no American scouting organization will accept my sweet gay son (fingers crossed) into the fold. (I am not gay. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. — Big One Pandolfo Roy) And while it is true that I cannot abide by scouting’s anti-my-sweet-gay-son stance, my major issue with scouting is actually limited to the Girl Scouts and their godforsaken cookies.
It’s that time of year again. Girl Scouts are doing their best impression of demented Keebler elves, miniature creatures in whimsical costumes dealing in sub-par baked goods. What I wonder is, why would anyone subject themselves to, as Ruth Reichl famously put it in the Times back in ‘99, “sugary wallboard,” when everyone’s friendly neighborhood grocer carries a huge selection of clearly superior cookies? You show me a Girl Scout cookie that is even a fraction of the cookie an Oreo® is, or an Animal Cracker®, or Ginger Snap®, or Teddy Gram®, or even the tried-and-true Nilla Wafer®. I’m sorry; there’s no comparison. And yet, like a real-life version of a George Romero flick, the Girl Scouts just keep coming at us, zombily pushing their ass-tasting wares on an unsuspecting public that clearly prefers Fig Newtons®. Well, this cookie sale season broke me. I doubt highly another Girl Scout will darken my doorstep anytime in the near future.
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Tags: junk food, rage issues, Scouts
Filed under Uncategorized.
So I’m wondering: is it wrong that I hate Easter?
I should clarify. I actually find the story of the the resurrection haunting and hopeful, a radical affirmation of humanity. My faith, by the way, tends to surprise people for one of two reasons. Those who know me only as an erudite liberal who blogs figure I must be immune to the fairy tales of religion, as the stereotype of erudite liberal bloggers goes. On the other hand, those who know me personally know I am a grouchy, intolerant loner who is radically un-affirming of humanity. But I never claimed to be Christ-like, just Christian, and as such, I am appropriately awed by our highest of holy days.
What I hate about Easter is that it is a holy day masquerading as a holiday. Why bother having a holiday that isn’t part of a holiday season? The whole point of holidays, if you ask me, is the holiday mindset: the festive, infectious goodwill; the deflation of the pressure of everyday life; the weeks-long eating, drinking, and being merry. As I’ve mentioned, plentifully, my favorite time of year is Thankshallochristmakkuh’s Eve, late October through January 1, when I am atypically pleasant and indulgent. The only other holiday worth its salt is the 4th of July, which is, after all, in the summer, which is one big holiday to those of us who will forever be in mental third grade. But Easter? Who gets into “the Easter spirit”? Whoever heard of “the Easter season”? As you know, Easter falls smack dab in the middle of my hibernation, the period between January 2 and Memorial Day when I hole up to perfect my 35,000-word manifesto on all of society’s ills. I would much prefer not to stick my head out of the hole for all that time. It’s bad enough I have to acknowledge my younger child’s birthday at the end of April; I really can’t handle another disturbance in the force.
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Tags: Holidays, I'm-a-curmudgeon, NotClooneys
Filed under Holidays.
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