The New Generation
After several years and hundreds of wasted dollars I finally found Maya a fantastic swimming teacher. Maya is swimming like a fish! Butterfly, backstroke, dives, flips…the kid is like Flipper on steroids.
So what’s the problem? Well Maya’s teacher is late 90% of the time and the situation is becoming intolerable at best.
Now anybody who knows me can attest to the fact that I HATE waiting around for chronically late people. I especially don’t think I should have to wait 15-20 minutes for Maya’s swimming teacher when:
- The lesson is only 30 minutes long.
- I am paying her $1 a minute.
- I am not related to her and thus I don’t have to be polite.
- She never feels the need to apologize.
“This generation just doesn’t care,” Ali said in response to my tirade. “They think they are doing you a favor by showing up at all.”
My cute kid is sporting a Speedo bathing suit courtesy of her grandmother's latest visit to Costco.
So while Ali waxes on about the ungrateful college grad he just interviewed, can I just share my “I walked 20 miles in the snow” story?
Back when I was a new college graduate, I landed my first real job at Paramount Pictures. I made a whopping $29,000 a year before taxes. I drove about 35 miles each way in the worst rush hour traffic you can imagine, and my commute took me 2-3 hours a day!
And yet, with the exception of the day I had a car accident with my dad’s new car (which I wasn’t supposed to be driving) I still got to work on time every morning with a smile on my face. So is it unreasonable for me to expect Maya’s teacher to be on time just twice a week?
I hate confrontation but with my blood pressure rising by the minute I finally had to address things. “If I was late to work every day,” I explained, “I would get fired. So what do you propose as a solution to our problem here?”
“Well I can leave if you want?”
That’s basically all she said. Which led me to wonder – does she not feel the need to explain herself? Is the economy so great that she doesn’t need a job? Is an apology out of the question? Or is it me? Am I just getting old and irritable?
Can someone please shed some light on this for me before I go mad?
L.C. at W.F.
First off, thank you all for your very encouraging words regarding my last post. I’m so glad you think I have a snowball’s chance in hell of being a published author! Your comments mean so much and I will be reading them over and over as I take on the daunting task of writing a book and a book proposal.
And speaking of daunting, I was desperate for a way to entertain Maya yesterday as Ali was at another “work” dinner. Funny how many “work” dinners he’s had recently. And wouldn’t you know it? He has another one tonight. Things seem a bit shady if you ask me but I’m too tired to investigate further.
Anyway, I was completely out of energy and ideas yesterday. So after picking Maya up from school we headed over to Whole Foods for a little inspiration and some puff pastry. Why puff pastry? No reason really, it just seemed like a puff pastry kind of day.
While Maya and I hunted down empty carbs we ran into Lauren Conrad for the third time in a month. If you are in the Los Angeles area and are trying to catch a glimpse of her, keep a look out for a very pretty blond wearing sunglasses in the store as a “disguise.”
She’s a clever one alright.
Just FYI, Lauren also drives a black Mercedes and is apparently above stopping at these crazy things called stop signs. All I can say is that my brother’s “no cops, no stops” mantra took on a new meaning as I drove home behind her yesterday.
Back to the puff pastry. Well, there isn’t much to say other than it was a miserable disaster. Not unlike The Hills after Lauren left.
"It looks kind of messy Mama." Really? You don't say.
The only difference is that unlike MTV producers, I know when to cut my losses.
Yes, much to Maya’s dismay I chucked this whole mess into the trash. Not very Ramadan-like behavior, but neither were the 4-letter words that accidentally slipped off my tongue.
I think it is interesting that I can simultaneously manage 3 production budgets but I can’t work with puff pastry. God works in mysterious ways.
If Betty White Can Do It…I Can Do It
For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to write a book. And while I’ve written a couple of drafts in the past I haven’t been too inspired to pursue those projects because, well, they didn’t exactly knock my socks off. But thanks to this blog and all of your supportive comments I can say that I have finally found my “voice.”
I’ve been working on a new book project for a while now and the good news is that I think I am on to something with this one. In a nutshell, I am putting my sarcasm to good use to write a non-fiction, humorous look at motherhood. From the sleepless nights to the non-stop vomit, from the never-ending diapers to my now-crappy metabolism…I plan to make fun of it all.
Carl Jung once said, “I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become,” and thanks to Betty White, I feel a sudden and compelling need to make this come true. I mean, if an 88-year-old TV star can write a book on “celebrities and zoo animals,” surely I have a chance, right?
It is weird that I look to an 88-year-old for inspiration?Photo: Flickr/JJandAmes
I’ll take your silence as a “yes.”
Anyway, I’ve started a “Confessions” page on this blog to
- Get inspiration/anecdotes for my book, and
- To make myself feel better about my own wrong doings.
I’ve done things that I’m not proud of. Lots of things. I’ve lied to my kid about where her Dora the Explorer book really went and for years I let Ali believe that my Chicken Salaan (which evidently tastes just like his mom’s) was homemade. The hard truth is that it comes in a glass jar. From Trader Joe’s.
Can anyone relate? Do you have any stories to share? Any confessions to make? Any new moms want to tell us why they want to shoot themselves in the foot? How about you underpaid teachers – any kids throw up on you today? Anyone just need to vent and complain about their husband/boyfriend/the rude salesperson at Bloomingdale’s?
Simply leave a comment on the Confessions page telling us your story…anonymously or not. You’ll feel better, I’ll feel better, and I bet you a million dollars one of us can relate.
Sick of me yet? If by some miracle you aren’t, please check out my guest post on The Mom Chef’s blog. The Mom Chef is one super talented cook and is also a fabulous blogger. Head over if you have a minute!
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 