Bad Mommy

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Ba Bam Bam Bam Bam...

My nanny has had the last 72 hours off. She returns the day after tomorrow. For the last 72 hours, Leo and I both have had a low-grade flu. Enough to make us tired and cranky as hell, but not enough to keep either of us in bed.

How many times can Leo and I go to The Grove to watch the Fountains before it permanently warps his brain?

Here is what is going through MY brain, all day.

Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do and nowhere to go I wanna be sedated
Just get me to the airport put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers I can't control my brain
Oh no no no no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go.
Just put me in a wheelchair and put me on a plane
Hurry hurry hurry before I go insane
I can't control my fingers I can't control my brain
Oh no no no no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go I wanna be sedated
Nothing to do and no where to go I wanna be sedated
Just put me in a wheelchair get me to the show
Hurry hurry hurry before I go loco
I can't control my fingers I can't control my toes
Oh no no no no no
Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours to go...
Just put me in a wheelchair...
I wanna be sedated
I wanna be sedated
I wanna be sedated
I wanna be sedated

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

In the Drink

You MIGHT be too far away to have heard it, but I'm sorry if the screaming coming from the Sunset Blvd. area at around 1030 am today was disturbing.

Yes, today was Leo's first swim lesson. Dragana (not kidding), Leo's swim instructor was awesome. Sure, she's 6'3" (again, not kidding) and 200 lbs of muscle, but she's also verrrrry sweet and seemed to be able to NOT take Leo's 30 straight minutes of screaming personally. I, on the other hand, aged 5 years in that time.

And when I say screaming, I mean no tears, no sobbing, just full-on screaming punctuated by "No!" and "Done!" and "Go! Go! Go!' and "Mama! Nana!" Mostly, though,it was just pure, unadulterated grown-up sized rage. And this from a kid who enjoys (or at least feigns enjoying) going in the pool and has been doing so since he was an infant.

As soon as we all (Leo, Paula (his nanny), Nana, Mama and Dragana) got to the pool, Leo looked me right in the eye and said, "No, no, no, Mama, no!" (Should have been my first clue that he was not feeling a swim lesson.) Not sure why he wasn't into swimming today - the pool was 90 degrees (again, no joke, my in-laws like it WARM) and the sun was shining and he'd not only had copious amounts of Pirate's Booty, but also a cookie and thirty minutes of Baby Neptune (to get him the mood, of course). Well, I guess life can sometimes be a series of things we don't want to do but have to do anyway, and Leo got his first taste of that this morning. Mind you, he didn't go quietly into that good night. I have never heard anything that little scream so big. And if he knew the word bitch, I feel certain he'd have used it today.

Luckily, Dragana told me that she's had WORSE first lessons (once again, not kidding) than this and that after next time (there are 20 lessons/10 weeks in the series) she and Leo will be in the pool alone with no Mama to witness the cruelty and torture. She swears by the last lesson he will not only jump into the pool from the side, but do it happily. I'm skeptical but what can I do? Plus, finally he will have something to tell his therapist when he gets old enough to blame me for everything.

I also have it all on video so he can show it to the court when he sues for emancipation in a few years.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

Hey Ho Let's Go

Turns out Leo is a punk rocker.

Today in Dance and Jingle, the instructor took out a karaoke machine and a few of the older kids took turns singing songs (we're talking Twinkle, Twinkle and the ABC's here). Some of the kids could sing a verse or two, but mostly the kids with the mike just stood there, wide-eyed, and stared out at the rest of the Dance & Jingle Circle while breathing heavily into the microphone. Even that much elicited more-than-the-usual enthusiastic cheers and claps from the mommies and the teachers.

Leo, who as far as I know doesn't know any songs even part of the way through (yes, that is probably my fault), and who doesn't enjoy Dance and Jingle on a good day - his favorite activity is to press himself up against the glass door of the classroom and to say, "Done, Mama, done" - apparently was moved by the sound of the amplified voices or the spectacle of all that parental attention being focued on one child at a time. He pushed himself out of my lap and Mick Jagger-walked to the middle of the circle, where he grabbed the microphone, looked the teachers right in the eye and said, lasciviously, I swear it, "Hiiiiiii." Then he licked the microphone (think Sid Viscous here and you've got the idea), threw it to the floor (think Elvis Costello's Angry Young Man) and sauntered on back to where he came from.

The applause was deafening, I tell you.

Friday, March 25, 2005

Bad Mommy Dresses Doll

Many days, the most creative thing I do all day is pick out Leo's outfit. My general theme for his look is Hungover Frat Boy.

Usually, I dress him during the Elmo DVD portion of our morning. This way, he is distracted enough by what is happening on the TV that he can't run fast enough to get away from me. When he is fully dressed, he likes to run to the mirror and kiss his reflection and reflect for a moment on just how fabulous he looks. And seeing as how most every one of our friends has said to me at one point or another, "It's so funny how Leo doesn't look anything like either of you!" I somehow feel I can't take much credit for said fabulousness.

Which brings me to this point: my husband and I look so much alike we could practically be siblings. I mean, no doubt we're related if you trace our roots back to the shtetl. And yet...and yet... and yet... our child looks like the Goyische Model Boy Doll from FAO Schwartz. How is this possible?

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Leo's Bad Mommy

A screaming comes across the sky. It has happened before, but there is nothing to compare it to now.

Ha ha, just kidding. Well, only kind of.

Let me tell you, this Mommyhood thing can really drive you to the brink. Imagine you're at a, no... imagine you ARE the party: the hostess, the "charming" guests, the caterer, the clean-up crew... you get the picture. Now imagine the guest of honor is one Leo Koufax Berenson, aged 21 months, who is not exactly holding up his end of the Clever Banter Agreement. Not unless you think, "No, no, Mama," is witty repartee. Or you're waaaay into animal sounds. Or unless the last book you read was THE VERY HUNGRY CATERPILLAR and you were especially taken by the part where the caterpillar eats his way through a series of ice cream cones, sausages and lollipops. If that's you, then you should be on the guest list, my friend. If the whole scenario leaves you feeling exhausted and slightly feverish, then you're either sane and/or a Mommy. Maybe even a Bad Mommy. Like the one Leo's got.