For the Love of …. Dish Towels

Husbands and wives argue over many things: money, schedules, kids, cleaning up, folding laundry the right way, loading the dishwasher, other women, other men, clothes, music, TV, sports and so on. If you’re married, you know how it goes.

Fortunately, me and my hubby, we really don’t argue. Sure we nit-pick from time to time: it’s healthy. We are also incredibly silly, which is even healthier. But one of my pet peeves that really gets me going in the spousal bickering department is our opposing views on  … dish towels.

Me: Dish towels — or tea towels, as we call them in England — are intended, as their American name suggests, for drying dishes. Drying dishes that have been cleaned. Therefore, said dish towel should also be clean prior to their drying function or else the dishes would become dirty again. Ammiright or ammiright?

As a secondary function, dish towels can be used to dry one’s hands, after one has washed said dishes. Again, this calls for use of a clean dish towel, or else said hands will be rendered unclean once again and the whole thing is “moo” (to quote Joey.)

Him: Dish towels are rags with wide-ranging functions from wiping down messy counters, to cleaning the inside door of the wood-burning stove, to handling sticky, hot pots and pans.

We’ve had several run-ins on this delicate topic. We’ve called each other names. We’ve thrown our hands up in the air. We’ve laughed and snickered at each other’s weaknesses on the topic. We’re both right and we’re both wrong. It’s a hoot.

The good news is we found a solution. We’ve established hooks by the sink, designated for the clean dish towels to be used only for drying dishes. And another spot where we hang a towel, designated only for the drying of clean hands. This makes me happy. All other dish towels, tea towels, rags or whatever you wish to call them are his to use however he sees fit, as long as they eventually find their way into the washing machine and never, never, put on the hooks with the clean towels.

Yes, I am a control freak and he is a professionally-trained chef. It’s a beautiful thing.

The other funny footnote to add to this seemingly pointless post is that, when towels are not hung back up or put in the washer, but are left in random places within the dog’s reach …. well then, off they disappear to be buried outside in the mud somewhere, as our dog likes to do. Often.

So there you have it. Happy weekend, folks!

Advice to My 16-Year Old Self

This morning, a tweet from MumClub asking “what would you tell your 16-year old self?” got me thinking. Often I can tweet a quick, snappy response but this I needed to mull over. So I stepped into the shower, and ideas kept popping into my head. Thanks to my waterproof Post-It notes, I wrote down the following advice to Samantha Stern:

  • Keep working on your writing and languages—they will be the foundation of your success
  • There is so much more than Duran Duran
  • You are not fat
  • Dating/kissing boys that are not Jewish will not be the end of the world
  • Friendships trump religious differences
  • Invest in your friends—you’re going to need them
  • Gary Morris may break your heart but there are lots of fish in the see—explore ;)
  • Red heads have more fun
  • Keep dancing
  • Go on blind dates (the last one will be the best one)
  • You are in charge of your future
  • Mum and Dad were right about many things (but not about only kissing/dating Jewish boys)
  • Find your own style
  • Keep traveling
  • Bacon is not evil
  • In two years, Mum and Dad will take you to see Les Miserables. It will change everything.
  • Try sushi: you’ll like it!

Are Dads the New Moms?

This morning, I read a blog post that suggested that parenting magazines are making a mistake by catering so much to Moms and leaving Dads out. On the one hand, I agree – Dads these days play a large role in parenting and should be represented as such within parenting magazines. On the other hand, I’m not so sure that Dads turn to glossy magazines for parenting advice. I’m fairly sure they either speak with other Dads, follow a couple of Dad bloggers or wing it, the best they can.

I consider myself to be one lucky Mom as my husband has not only been a very participant Dad from the moment number one child popped out (actually, he didn’t just pop out but that’s another story) but he also makes me a better Mom. I observe the same in many of my friend’s husbands, as well as my brother and brothers-in-law, and it’s really heart-warming. These are the ways that my kids’ Dad is as good as (and often better than) their Mom:

  • He folds the laundry (is there anything sexier, I ask.)
  • He shares the school drop-offs and pickups.
  • He cooks, shops, cleans, mends.
  • He has cleaned up his fair share of poop and puke (though I always seem to be on the receiving end of the puke.)
  • He encourages me to go out with my girlfriends at least once a month.
  • He takes care of both kids one evening a week so I can work late.
  • He shares taking the kids to their dentist/doctor appointments/playdates/birthday parties.
  • He is a more-than-equal enforcer of discipline.
  • He attends parent/teacher conferences with me.
  • He does it all when I have to travel for work.
  • He is super silly (which is the secret to our happy marriage.)

So yes, if the above tasks comprise what was once considered motherhood, then Dad is the new Mom and I see nothing wrong with that. The fact is that parenthood is wonderful and tough and incredible and exhausting and uplifting and messy and expensive and complicated and a lot of hard work. Having an equal partner makes it manageable and way more fun.

Hooray for Dads!

(Did I mention that my hubby is in the wine business – triple bonus for me!!!)

These Are a Few of My Favorite Pins

Like many of my fellow PR, social and Mom types, my latest addiction is Pinterest. Everyday I open up the app, eager with anticipation to take a spin through the newest colorful pins my fellow addicts have posted or repinned.

They say the demographic of Pinterest is mainly women. They also say that Pinterest is now the third most popular social network, driving large volumes of traffic to the sites and blogs marketing themselves through it.

They may be right …. but I say, for me, Pinterest is like a delicious distraction from reality to a land where I can look fantastic, have a the perfect home, whip up fabulous meals, be expertly crafty and travel to exotic places. Yes, to me, my daily (sometimes two or three times daily) dip into Pinterest  is like a concentrated dose of a good girlfriend catch-up combined with a speed read through the latest editions of Vogue, People, Parenting and Food & Wine magazines.

It turns out my boards are actually an intensely revealing portal to my life. Or the life I’ll get to one day when I’m not so busy being a working Mom, wife and blogger. Here’s a quick review of my favorite boards:

Recipes to try – my most populated and frequently refreshed board filled with images of recipes that are scrumptious, healthy, kid-approved, supposedly simple or otherwise, just plain mouth-watering. All of which I will make one of these days and which will never look like the beautiful images I pinned.

Style – If only I was taller, thinner, richer, less of a slob. This board exemplifies the wannabe in me with looks that I wish I could carry off. Plus a load of shoes I’d wear (if they didn’t hurt my back) and jewelry I’d like to own. If only ….

Cheese – it’s quite simple. I love cheese. Therefore I love pinning images of cheese so I can look at them and drool.

Men – hey, we’re allowed to look, right? So I created a board where several of my most “admired” guys can reside, so I can look at them and they can stare back at me …..

France – where I lived and had the time of my life. One day, I’ll be back, mes amis.

Inspiration – not the usual board of quotes that many people have, mine is filled with Dr Seuss-isms because, man, he just nails its.

As someone who works in social media, people often say to me, “I really must get on Twitter” to which I respond, “why?” Most of the time, they have no clue. My advice to them is not to bother, if they don’t have a specific goal. But with Pinterest, it’s very different. If you haven’t jumped in yet and you’re a woman (or man, I suppose) looking for inspiration, shoes, decor and craft ideas, or just something to make for dinner, c’mon in and join the rest of us in fantasy land!

Life Before Kids & the Thrill of Getting “Checked Out”

Once upon a time, in the days before kids, I used to get checked out. At a bar. In a club. On the train.

I’m not talking about being chatted up or lusted after. I’m not talking about boyfriends or hook ups. What I am referring to is that moment when you notice a complete stranger noticing you with, let’s say, appreciation. Could be the mailman. Someone in the grocery store, the doctor’s office. A waiter at a restaurant. Somebody driving down the street. Usually no-one you know.

And it makes you feel good. It puts a swing in your hips, some pep in your step. Makes you toss your shiny hair over your shoulder and suck your tummy in. Blush a little. And then carry on your day, grateful for the reminder that you are a woman.

I’m sure at this point the feminists are aghast. We girls don’t need men to help us achieve self-worth and to feel actualized. Looks do not matter. It’s what’s inside that counts. Yes, yes I know.

But I’m not going to deny it – it feels damn good when you get checked out. I miss it.

I’m not at all surprised though, that in the first five or so years since having kids, it barely happened at all. I often went out without having looked in the mirror or put a comb through my hair. Clothes were baggy, at best. Unstained, if I was lucky. Makeup non-existent. My shiny nose was a beacon. (I did always brush my teeth, though.)

In time, however, the urge to put some effort back into my appearance and self-pride resurfaced. The urge to wear clothes that fit, even flatter, came back. Certainly, watching “What Not to Wear” helped. I saw myself in too many of those sorry souls that Stacy and Clint helped! I set my sights on becoming a yummy mummy.

And then it happened. Not once, but twice. Three times I got checked out. Woohoo, I’m back!!

Before we all get carried away, I have to set the record straight. There’s was something fishy going on. It soon dawned on me that each time it happened, I was driving my car. Huh?

Turns out, the men who I thought were checking *me* out, were actually checking out my new Ford Explorer, lusting after its new pay load, chassis, trim.

Hey, what about my chassis? My trim?

Oh how times have changed! But I’ll take it. Might as well enjoy the attention while I can get it.

The Things Men Say

Guys, you know we love you. It’s just that, every now and then, you say stuff. We know you mean well. Heck, you are probably even trying to compliment us. But sometimes what you mean and how you say it, don’t quite hit the mark. And us girls, we have long memories. Those things you say stay with us and often get discussed among us. Trust me, none of these are ground for divorce or even for a good old argument … rather, they make us scratch our heads and wonder.

What? You don’t know what we are talking about?  Here are just a couple of examples, crowd sourced from among the girls. (I’ve kept them anonymous so that no-one’s pride gets dented.)

“You look nice, if that’s the look you are going for.”

“If you want, you can call my mother and ask her how she cooks it.”

“You don’t have to dress up, you’re pretty in your own way.”

“Is it that time of month again?”

“All the girls before you were sex toys; I don’t think of you that way.”

“I think the kids toys could be better organized, don’t you?”

“Why don’t you make an appointment for your hair?”

“The kids don’t give me any trouble going to bed when you’re not here.”

Season 4 » Episode #22 - Bad Moon Rising

For some reason, this all makes me think of this infamous episode from Everybody Loves Raymond which makes me chuckle:

Debra Barone: Have you ever considered giving me a hug?
Raymond “Ray” Barone: A hug?
Debra Barone: Yes! A hug! Did you ever think of that, you big jerk?
Raymond “Ray” Barone: Well, it’s pretty hard to hug someone who’s trying to kill you!
Debra Barone: How would you know? You’ve never even tried it!
Raymond “Ray” Barone: Well, look, *this* is not huggable! *This* is not Debra! This is the woman who shows up once a month to tear into me like a monkey on a cupcake!

We still love you!

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