Mommy Monday: An extra hour a day away keeps the b*tchface away

So far, I'm loving 2011.  I'm ROCKING those damn bangs like nobody's business and Lisa's bundle of joy arrived late last week. (More details from Lisa to come later this month-so all I'll say is that both Mom and baby are healthy and gorgeous!)  The Bears are heading to the playoffs(this makes the hubs happy) and I've already lost those annoying Wii-induced 5 pounds that were giving me the worst muffin top EVEH. And we all know that it's freakin' IMPOSSIBLE to rock jeans with boots when you have muffin top. So how did I lose them so quickly you ask?  Did I finally open up the P90X?  Did I decide to take the stairs?  Did I get swine flu?  Nope.  I lost the weight the old-fashioned way.


Don't worry-it's not the things are going terrible and I can't eat stress.  It's more like I'm so busy that I can't breathe or text or eat stress.  I knew 2011 was going to be crazy but it still knocked the wind out of me last week.  I found myself wishing for just one more hour in the day to get things done.  And when I fell into bed Friday night, I began daydreaming about what I would do with that hour.  Oh, the things I would get done! I would be so much nicer!  So relaxed!  Because let's face it: An extra hour a day would keep the bitchface away. You know, that secret bitchface that lives inside all of us?  Don't even try to pretend like you don't have one.

And here it is, so just in case I actually ever get that extra hour-I'll be ready!  Or maybe I'll just play Wii. (Damn you Grandma and Grandpa for buying the kids that time suck!)

If I had an extra hour a day, I would....

1. Get a mani-pedi with extra massage. I'd even finally let them draw that flower on my toenail they're always bugging me about.

2. Pour a huge glass of wine and watch the latest The Millionaire Matchmaker . (Did any of you see the one recently with the PR millionairess that looked like a crayola exploded on her face and the gold digger?  Dude! You. Must. Watch.)

3. Put on super cute workout clothes and pretend I was going to the gym and then find something else to do instead. Because it's the thought that counts, right?

4. Take my new dog to an animal psychic. Because I just have to know why that bitch keeps running away.  She went from a cold animal shelter and horrible mange to belly rubs, treats, walks and two kids that worship the ground she walks on. I don't know how to convey to her that it's not getting any better than this.

5. Tackle my TBR pile. Oh Vey.  Super Mario Brothers has really set me behind on this one. But I have three ARCS that I'm excited to read in the next two weeks- Best Kept Secret by Amy Hatvany(out in July), The Violets of March by Sarah Jio(out April 27th) and Here, Home, Hope by Kaira Rouda(out in May).  Oh, and speaking of ARCS, you're going to LOVE Sarah Pekkanan's Skipping A Beat(due February 22).  I read it one day last month-I laughed, I cried, I loved it. Do yourself a favor and pre-order it.  And Leave a comment here to win an ARC of Sarah Jio's The Violets of March!

6. Read the stack of Entertainment Weeklys sitting on my desk. Because drooling over Jake Gyllenhaal half-naked on the cover is not actually considered reading.

7. Learn how to bake. Because I'm tired of my daughter saying, Oh, Mommy! when I pull lopsided, burnt cookies out of the oven.

8. Shop by myself. I don't care where.  Although for some reason I find Target very relaxing(until I get to the cash register and realized I've spent $200 and bought NOTHING I actually need).

9. Have happy hour with the girls. Because an hour with good friends, a Grey Goose dirty martini and an onion ring stack can make just about any problem melt away.

10. Have a conversation with my hubs that has nothing to do with snot, poop, time out, or Wii. Is that really too much to ask? And if I got an another hour, I might actually kiss him with some tongue.  In fact-let's declare 2011 the year of the married make-out session! All I need is a shot of tequila to help me forget about all the other things I should be doing instead and I'm in!

What would YOU do with your extra hour? Leave a comment and you'll be entered to win an ARC of Sarah Jio's upcoming debut, The Violets of March.  I'll pick the winners on Wednesday night after 6pm PST.  Good luck!

xoxo, Liz

Mama Drama by Liz

Mommy is doing the best she can, honey. I can't tell you how many times I repeated that phrase to my four-year old while visiting my Mom this past weekend.  Swimming nonstop for 6 hours straight combined with the fact that I overcooked her mac and cheese and forgot to pack her favorite Hello Kitty underwear really sent her over the edge!

And I didn't miss the small smile forming on my mother's lips as she watched Miss R demand the crust be taken off her bread or when she told me that my singing  "hurt her ears". (In her defense, I am a TERRIBLE singer.  But still.)

Come on people. It didn't take a mind reader to know what my mom was thinking while she had that smirk on her face.

Finally!  It's payback time, beyotch!

Yes, it's true.  Growing up, I had a tendency to be somewhat of a little bitchface at times to my mother, who in all fairness, was a wonderful parent.  Hell, even now, I sometimes speak to her like a spoiled teenage brat, rolling my eyes and saying, "Whatevuh, Mom!" whenever she harps on me for not taking a daily multi-vitamin or reminds me that osteoporosis runs in our family.

And normally, occasional meltdowns from my kids when they are overly exhausted don't really phase me.  But I just finished Tori Spelling's MOMMYWOOD last week and now every perceived injustice from my daughter has me paranoid.  You see, My girl Tori has got some serious mama drama and she's obsessed with righting the perceived wrongs from her childhood.  Specifically, things that her mother Candy did.  And that obsession seems to control most of the parenting decisions that she makes.

Candy made Tori wear her hair in a bob for most of her childhood? Well, her daughter Stella is going to grow her hair down to her ass like some crazy hippie!

Candy had incredible costumes made every Halloween? Well, Tori is ordering hers from *gasp* Pottery Barn Kids!  Take that, Candy!

By the end of the book, I felt bad for Tori.  And not because she had some terrible childhood, (I'm sorry, but while giving your child Madame Alexander dolls may be lame, it's not child abuse!) but because she has let her mother's flaws as a parent have such power over her, even as an adult.

And if Tori and I were BFFs, (Does it count that I know someone who knows someone who is in her Mommy and me class?) I'd give her this small pearl of wisdom:

No matter what you do or how hard you try, you're going to F*CK up your kids somehow.  That while you may be successful in not screwing them up the same way your parents did, I assure you that they will find all new ways to be screwed up.  It's just the way it is.  All you can do is love them and do the best you can!

So there you go, Tori.  The answer to all your problems.  No need to thank me, girl.

And in tribute to my own mother, I've complied a list of all the ways I'm probably scarring my own children for life.  I'm thinking it will come in handy when my daughter pens her first tell-all!


1.  Mommy is very sorry about Goofy the guinea pig's death.  And despite what you told everyone at preschool, I did not feed her poison spinach.

2.  Mommy is sorry that she dared to speak while you were watching Spongebob.  I know that it was a very pivotal moment where you were about to discover the secret "Krabby Patty" ingredient.

3.  Mommy is very sorry that her tater tots don't taste the same as the ones they serve at preschool.  You would think that all over-processed frozen potato products would taste the same.  But as you mentioned, theirs are "yummy" and mine are "disgusting".  Actually, you told me that they were IS-UG-STING.  But I knew what you meant.

4. Mommy is very sorry that she doesn't want to get her hair wet at the pool.  But, seriously, have you seen what Mommy's hair looks like when it air dries? And on a side note, I'm sorry to break the news you may have the same problem on your hands in the future. And don't go blaming that one on me, girlfriend.  Even Mommy can't control genetics!

5. Mommy is very sorry she didn't eat the thousand-calorie banana bread your class worked very hard on at the Mother's day breakfast.  All I can say is that I hope you inherit your Grandmother's metabolism!

xoxo Liz