Blah Blah Babycakes

10 Party Pre-Tox Tips

Holiday party season officially begins in Minneapolis with this Saturday night's Butterball Party, featuring The Hold Steady. All proceeds benefit Open Arms of Minnesota. There are a few tickets still available.  

With all the late nights, cocktails and hors d'oeuvres in your future, take this week to pamper and prepare with my 10 pre-party beauty tips:

+ Commit to going to bed as close to 10pm as possible. An hour of sleep before midnight is worth two hours after.

+ Wake up to a warm glass of water with fresh lemon juice. This will aid digestion, cleanse the blood and help your liver do its job of detoxifying the body.  It's the secret to healthy, glowing skin.

+ Drink water and herbal tea throughout the day to keep hydrated.

+ Eat lots of green, leafy vegetables, fish, nuts and fruits.  Stay away from sugar, caffeine and alcohol. 

+ Snack on prunes. They get rid of stomach bloat.

+ Exercise for at least 30 minutes once a day.  If you can't make it to the gym go for a brisk walk.

+ Take a Vitamin B-complex and Vitamin C.  They help with skin, weight, stress and energy.

+ Use a dry skin brush before you shower to help eliminate cellulite, increase circulation and exfoliate your skin.

+ Spend time massaging your scalp before you shampoo.  It's relaxing, stimulates hair growth and balances oil production.

+ Treat your face to an aspirin mask.  To alleviate redness and clear up your skin, crush three aspirins with a little water and apply to face.  Add honey if your skin is dry. 

Cheers!

 

Working My Ass Off

Where I've been...

Up until this past year I've always had a healthy view of my body.  I grew up a skinny kid and then living in New York with all the walking kept me mostly fit and trim through my twenties.  If I did get a little plump at times I considered myself fat and happy.  A few weeks of depression could always get me back into my skinny jeans.

Living in the Midwest in my thirties with a slower metabolism and a mild thyroid condition left me doughy and dumpy with an extra 20 lbs, mostly residing on my ass. Ugh.  I hated myself.

I tried various exercise programs, but they all sucked and I stayed the same.

4 months ago I experienced Bikram Yoga for the first time.  It was an awful experience. Horrible. No one told me that Bikram Yoga was evil. It's how I imagine it would be like to practice yoga in hell. I felt like barfing and fainting for 90 entire minutes.  The teacher wouldn't let me out of the room and I thought I would die.  Still, something told me that heat and yoga was what my body needed. I found a less intense hot vinyasa class and I've been going five times a week for three months.  It's the first physical activity I've stuck with and it's working.  It's working, but I didn't start to see results in my body until just recently.  Sure, I felt myself getting stronger every day, but only now, after three months, is my butt starting to look good again. I did not realize the amount of hard work and dedication that it would take to get the body I wanted. 

Wish me luck as I finish my 5-month program and then I can scale back a little and do something other than yoga. 

Stigma

Years ago I read in a parenting magazine that you should never label your child as "shy". Labeling your child can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. (Perhaps I should try, "This is my son, Dr. Henry.") This nugget of advice stuck with me, mostly because I was a shy kid and was always deeply mortified whenever anyone pointed it out.

Boisterous grown-ups would bellow at me, "What's the matter, are ya shy??" It made me feel like a defect.  

So, keeping in line with the advice and respecting Henry's temperament, I've always said that he's cautious. When we're meeting new friends and Henry is hiding his face in my coat, I'll announce that he's cautious about new people. I've been super careful to never say the evil word "shy". Which now seems a little idiotic, because I've just switched one word for another. Maybe I could have mixed it up a bit? "Henry's feeling a little introverted today." At least "cautious" doesn't have the stigma that "shy" does.  Not that it matters, because yesterday when I was giving Henry a pep talk about how it's polite to say hello to someone, even if you're feeling nervous, he told me with confidence, "but mom, I'm shy to talk."  He might as well have dropped an F-bomb!  Where did he learn that word??

It just strengthens my resolve about swearing.  Kids will learn and say all the words you don't want them to.

Margaritas for a Cause at Bar Abilene

There is nothing I like better than drinking because of children, oops, I mean drinking FOR children.

Margaritas for a Cause

looking for a great drink, and an even better reason to drink it? if you're in the twin cities, come to uptown's bar abilene on wednesday, november 18. from 6-9 p.m., it will be "margaritas for a cause" night, with $3 from every margarita sold going to benefit children with cmv.

Emergency

Here's a tip:  Don't ever brag out loud about how this is your first trip to the Emergency Room in five years, because the god of all things ironic might be listening and you'll be back for your second trip almost immediately.

This is a picture of Henry's foot from our first trip to the ER.  He tried to cut off his little toe with the garden shears.  This happened two seconds after I'd yelled, "Henry, put that down before you cut off a finger."

 

12 stitches, a splint and a pair of tiny crutches all for a cut on his toe.

The second trip was less fun, because Henry has been sick for a couple of weeks and no one is sure what's wrong with him.  We ended up in the Emergency Room last Saturday morning after a particularly scary night of gastrointestinal warfare.  The good news is that he seems to be on the mend (Knock on wood, throw salt over shoulder, sign of the cross and GOD FORBID.) and the mysterious illness remains an unsolved mystery.  

We could still use some good thoughts to make sure though.

Happy 5th Birthday Henry!

This is how it feels to be five.

Hippo Hooray iPhone Apps for your Toddler

If you're okay with grubby hands all over your iphone, these new apps for toddlers are great tools of distraction.  They're fun and educational too. Hurry!  All the other 2-year-olds are doing it.

Hippo Hooray Colors, Shapes and Letters are available at the App Store today! 99 cents.

Anti

When I take Henry to the park I always bring books, magazines, my phone...anything to make me look busy and unapproachable. It's not that I don't want to make friends, it's just that I'm not very good with strangers and I'm a failure when it comes to small talk. It's easier and less stressful to keep to myself.

Henry, blissfully unaware of his own awkwardness, was running around the park with three little girls this morning. Their mother yelled over to me about how nice my son was playing with her daughters.  And because I'm socially awkward and stupid, I shouted back, "He's an only child.  He's desperate for friends." Of course, I meant to be self-deprecating and funny, but instead I insulted her children.  She gave me a weird look and I went back to iphone.

I remember your survivor shoes

I don't have a great memory.  It's hard for me to even remember how old I am, but oddly I always have a recollection of what I wore and what I ate. The morning of 9/11 eight years ago, however, is seared into my brain.  The days that followed were more of a blur. I remember my sister and I taking the Amtrak to Rhode Island to escape a burning city. Arriving in Providence felt like being wrapped in a warm, down blanket. Nick's mom had new pajamas laid out on our beds and we ate Indian food.

Waking up with a hangover back then wasn't unusual and the fact that I allowed myself to stay in bed a few extra minutes that morning never felt like divine intervention. I couldn't feel thankful that I wasn't in my office at the World Trade Center, because my little sister was.  She's always on time. When Nick called my cell phone and his shaky voice asked where I was, everything still looked like a terrible accident. 

I called work, which was in the North tower on the 33rd floor and was shocked when a co-worker answered. His voice was calm and he told me that everyone, including Angie, had gone downstairs and he was just leaving himself.  Then the second tower was hit.

After that I didn't know what to do.  I checked my email (dial-up) and a friend had written "Watch out for Airplanes".  I laughed.  I was in some strange state of shock.  My roommate Matt, like almost everyone else in the world, was staring at the TV saying "holy shit" over and over.  When the first tower fell he went to get a six-pack of beer.  I was getting married in two months and since I couldn't bear to talk on the phone to my frantic mother (still no word from Angie) I called my florist.  "Um, I just wanted you to know that I'm okay, I'm at home and was late for work, so um, I'll still need flowers for my wedding." Even though I was in shock I knew I sounded like a crazy person.

Matt and I went up to the roof and watched the towers burn.  Smoke and debris were floating through the air. Hours later Angie called.  She'd waited in line to use a payphone somewhere in Chinatown.  She had finally stopped running. (In her brown clogs) We ate Mexican food that night.

Not Too Shabby

Bar Artisanal, Russians, Oysters, Sweltering heat, Buttermilk Channel, Amtrak, Salt Water, Waves, Teamster, Body Surfing, Crabs, Puzzle, Seacrets, Ted Kennedy, The Hold Steady, Balcony, Ben's Chili Bowl, Unified Scene, Busboys & Poets, National Zoo, Home.

On Holiday

I know.  Liar, liar pants on fire.  

Posting every single day just wasn't possible nor enjoyable, but I did try and it least there was something. Something is better than nothing. Henry even let me record him talking, which was a big deal.  I caught him in a rare mood.

Anyway.

I'll be gone until the end of the summer, unplugged (I need a serious vacay from Huffington Post) and enjoying the last two weeks of summer with my sister in New York and then to the shore of Delaware.

Mother %4@#!

At brunch on Sunday we were seated, quite closely, to a table of young rabble-rousers. A blonde directly behind me kept using the word bitch to describe someone who had done her wrong the night before.  Every time she said it she would clap her hand over her mouth, turn around to me and apologize.  "Oops, I'm so sorry!" She'd say. This is a huge pet peeve of mine, because now Henry wants to know what you said and why it was a big deal.

My parents never swore and at school we were not even allowed to use "Gosh, Darn it" or "Fudge", because those were just softer versions of the real thing, but with the same meaning behind it.  So we'd use completely random words, "Oh tiddlywinks" or something stupid like that. In the 8th grade I decided that was fucking retarded and I made a plan to start swearing. I really wanted to add the word "ass" to my vocabulary.  I liked the way it sounded on my tongue and it made me feel smart and worldy to use it.  I casually slipped it into conversation one night at dinner.  "...and then she fell on her ass". My mother looked at me surprised and continued eating. My dad didn't even notice.  They were beginning to end their marriage at this time and I suppose they just didn't want to deal. I took it as approval. After that I quickly added the rest of the curse words I knew to my repertoire, in order of their shock value, saving the very satisfying "Fuck" for last. To this day I love colorful language and passionate expression, so it could be said that I swear like a sailor.

Now, you may remember that one of Henry's first words was "shit", but since that time he's rarely uttered a profanity. I'm much more concerned about his attitude and intention when he calls his friend a poopie butthead. Teaching him to be kind with his words feels more important then policing certain words or phrases. Henry knows there are words that grown-ups use that are not appropriate for children to say and he seems okay with that.  Just like how adults get to stay up late, drive cars and sip wine. He doesn't get excited when he hears people swear but when you, blondie at brunch, make a big deal out of it you make it sound that much more attractive. So stop apologizing. Henry has a wise mother who is learnin' him good judgment and you may say whatever you please.

Rare Interview

.

Summer Whites

Henry: A vision in white.

From this angle you can't see the chocolate fudgesicle he's eating. It's dripping off his chin and down the front of his shirt and pants. Only an idiot would dress her four-year old in all white.

One Year Ago: Domestic

No Soup For You

Things didn't start out so well at Henry's lemonade stand yesterday.  When potential customers first approached, Henry would put his head down and shout "Go Away!"  That turned into a blank stare and a slight nod of the head and then finally, a friendly entrepreneur emerged and Henry made $40.  People were throwing money at him.  One guy came by, gave him five bucks, patted him on the head and walked away. (He must have seen Henry licking the cups.)

Apart from making the lemonade, Nick and I were pretty hands off and let Henry do it all himself. So, I feel a little bad that I took $20 for cab fare last night. A good lesson in taxation, no?