FANCY THAT FANCY THIS

All Maya has been asking for, for the last 5 years at least, has been a dog. And so for Christmas, Maya’s uncle gifted her a dog.

Here in London.

At The Wolseley for Breakfast.

I’m a bit unsure of the plans for the dog (Maya named her Brooklyn) as we are leaving to go back home shortly. But I do know that:

• Brooklyn is more work than a child.
• It’s putting my OCD into overtime.
• There is no space at our place in London for Brooklyn.
• There is no space at our place in NYC for Brooklyn.
• Brooklyn is not coming home with us.
• We are NEVER getting a pet of any kind. And that includes a goldfish. (I can barely keep track of Maya’s potato.)

Brooklyln. The Dog.

To soften the blow I took Maya to Hamley’s and let her build a Snoopy at Build-A-Bear.

I waited in line for 40 minutes so the dog could be custom stuffed, and then waited in line for 15 more minutes so I could pay for it.

I bought it a dog bed, a leash, and an outfit.

Dragged Maya out for a 1.5 hour walk through Hyde Park.

I even said Snoopy could come home with us, despite the fact he is too big for our carry-on luggage and thereby is in strict violation of Rule 98: We Are Each Allowed Only One Carry-On And Everything Must Fit.

Lunch at Ishtar.

I’m so envious of moms who have a knack for making the holiday season so warm and fuzzy, and who have the patience for pets and mess and chaos.

I am not that mom.

Maybe next year, instead of a pet, Maya should ask Santa to gift her mom a boatload of patience and a cure for OCD?

Ali and I (unsurprisingly) don’t see eye-to-eye on the subject of giving Maya an allowance.

In a surprising streak of independence, however, Ali decided to ignore my very strong feelings on the subject to give Maya $5 a week anyway.

At Fig and Olive. Where we waited SO LONG for our food that we got it on the house.

I was annoyed (unsurprisingly) because:

• Maya does nothing to justify receiving an allowance. Seriously, when I was 10 I was washing the family cars and polishing the marble. At 7 am on a Saturday. Maya can’t even put her toothbrush away without written instructions.
• I don’t understand why she needs an allowance when she pretty much gets whatever she wants from either Ali, me, or another family member, as we all try to buy her love.
• I don’t like Ali’s streak of independence. I don’t like it at all.

If one more person tells me Maya needs braces….

Anyway, after about two days of NOT taking out the recycling, NOT emptying her lunch box, and NOT putting her dishes away, I found out Ali gave her a cost-of-living increase, taking her to $8 a week.

Me: I’m really mystified Maya, as to why you are now getting $8 a week for doing less than you did before you started getting an allowance?

Maya: Well Mama, you’re the one who lectured me about how girls make less than boys for doing the same job – just because they’re scared of negotiating. So I negotiated.

At Moti Mahal Deluxe…moments before I unknowingly ate something that contained milk. I’ve never known such sickness.

As you can imagine, my mind was a battlefield of thoughts:

• I’m raising a smart-ass.
• A lazy one.
• But why shouldn’t she get paid to do nothing around the house, just as her father does nothing around the house?
• At least my constant lectures aren’t going in one ear and out the other.

Actually, I’m secretly quite proud to be raising a fighter. Even if she’s a lazy one.

I’m currently on a flight to Los Angeles with Maya and her potato.

A potato you ask? Why on earth does Maya have a potato?

Well because a very smart doctor friend of mine suggested that holding a potato somehow helps those who have motion sickness.

This picture has NOTHING to do with this post, but Delta will only let me connect to one device at a time and I have no access to the pictures on my phone (despite the astronomical GoGo InFlight charge I just paid).

I have no idea how it works.

I don’t really care how it works.

(I am admittedly curious what TSA thought of a potato in our carry on, but I suppose they’ve seen stranger things.)

Ali was either rolling his eyes at me (seems likely) or at the terrible service we had at Gotham Lounge in the Peninsula Hotel NYC (where this picture was taken).

All I know is that since we left our NYC apartment 4 hours ago I’ve made sure that Maya has been holding this potato as though her life depends on it.

And the fact is that we are currently 2 hours and 8 minutes into this flight and Maya hasn’t complained that she’s feeling sick EVEN ONCE.

So a big thank you to my friend Sam whose suggestion has allowed me – for the first time since Maya was born – to actually think that there is hope for Maya’s motion sickness.

In the form of one of my favorite vegetables no less.

Only Maya knows how to take a picture apparently. Ali and I are kind of challenged when trying to look at the camera at the same time.

Rest assured that I’m still armed with various airsickness bags just in case this post jinxes everything. But until then?

It’s all about the potato.