Monthly Archives: September 2010

Project Runway Fashion Faux Ma

I have not worn a constricting waistband in four months thanks to the Summer of Stretchy Skirts.

The fact that I couldn’t get my jeans over my hail-damaged thighs should be of no surprise. Nonetheless, it pissed me off enough to declare war on my chubbiness and go to a kickboxing class to lose 10 lbs. in one hour. The music starts, the first cue is to shuffle. Shuffle, shuffle, fall, BOUNCE, roll, whimper. I roll my ankle in the first 15 seconds of class. I hop off to the side, swallow what little pride I have and do the class half-assed anyway. It’s finished and when I try to walk down the steps, I know I jacked up my ankle.

I. Am. Crabby.

The story would end there with me eating ice cream with my foot propped up and watching TV all day. But I had promised Eileen that we would see one of our favorite Project Runway stars Nick Verreos at a fashion event at Macy’s.  I am miserable and my kid knows it but is trying to hide her disappointment that we might not go. I throw on “yoga” (fat) pants and a shirt that doesn’t properly cover my wedgie, and hobble over to Walgreens for a brace, Motrin and Tiger Balm. Make it work! Viola, I’m upright, crack and all.

We get to the mall and score chairs in the front row by the stage. I take a peek around and spot someone who looks familiar walking towards the event. Holy crap, it’s Peach Carr from the current season of Project Runway! Eileen and I are huge fans and always rooted for her on the show. So I nonchalantly scream-gush, “PEACH!!! WE LOVE YOU!!!” And instead of running from her freaky stalker, Peach and her daughter come over, say hello and ask if they can sit by us.

Keen on Peach

Eileen is starstruck with tears in her eyes in total disbelief. She can’t speak. To overcompensate, I am a babbling idiot about how much we love the show and that Eileen wants to be a fashion designer and is it okay if we take a take a picture with you? Peach graciously says yes, shows us designs that she did for her audition and gives us some dish about the show and her new line of tennis wear. She even asks us to be Facebook friends so we can send her the photo to post on her page. Her daughter is super sweet, too.

Then the fabulous Nick starts the show, shares this fall’s trends, notices Eileen, pulls her on to the runway and analyzes her outfit saying that she’s such a fashionista! (Thank God it wasn’t “What Not to Wear” or my wedgie and I would be up on stage.)  Peach points out Eileen’s embellished back pockets and Nick has Eileen turn around to the audience to show her tush. He’s asking her thoughts about Project Runway and she is working it on Cloud Nine!

On the Runway with Nick Verreos

After the show, Peach gives Eileen her biz card, tells her to email her some of her sketches, hunts down a Sharpie and signs Eileen’s purse. Then Nick signs her purse, jokes not to sell it on eBay and chit-chats with her.  As the event ends, my daughter is completely overwhelmed and choked up by the whole experience. “Mom, can I just look at some clothes so I can collect myself?”  I am just a grinning fool and completely touched by the genuine kindness of these talented, high-profile designers. They have no idea how much they have inspired this 10-year-old little girl. (And 21-year-old mom.)

While we are driving back home reliving every detail, Eileen just bursts into tears. “Mom, I feel so special right now. I feel like I can do anything!” Then I start sobbing because that is the biggest wish that I have for my kids. I just wanted to bottle up that mega dose of confidence for her so she could feel amazing for the rest of her life! Even when her jeans don’t fit.

The moral of the story? Even if you are too big for your britches, put on your shrunken big girl pants and get over yourself. (And wear military, embellishments, fake fur vests and metallics this fall!)

What a day.

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Whiz Kids

 

2007: Aidan 5, Eileen 7

“Is it appropriate for Aidan to be peeing in a box?” Eileen asks/smirks, knowing damn well the answer.

“What are you saying?”

“He’s peeing in the middle of the basement into a shoebox.” Her eyes light up with the thrill of the tattle. I head downstairs to find Aidan proudly walking out of the bathroom holding a wet shoebox and wrapping paper tube.

“Hey mom,” he says. “I just invented a pee machine. You put your peanuts* into this tube and shoot your pee down into this box. It’s good for when you are in the car and really need to pee. Don’t worry, I washed it out in the bathroom.”

I mumble something about germs, head back upstairs and need my own pee machine from laughing so hard. And wouldn’t you know it? The following weekend, he had a pee emergency and had to make do with a Diet Coke bottle. Not nearly as fun, but made for plenty of lemonade jokes.

*For years, Aidan thought that Penis = Peanuts and we did not correct him. And we also let Eileen think that Nobles was the correct name for Nipples. These code names came in very handy in many a public place.”Mom, you can totally see your nobles poking out.” “Mom, this ride hurts my peanuts!”

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I Get the Hint, CVS

So is CVS target marketing based on my past purchases or with their security camera? Geez, I couldn’t help the little toot that snuck out when I bent over for cough drops.

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Hump

“MOOOOOOM!!!!!,” I hear from the other room, “Aidan has camel toe!”

I don’t even want to know.

1) Did he figured out how to tuck his privates into his arse? (Silence of the Lambs)

2) Where the hell did Eileen learn that phrase? Probably Tom letting them watch Family Guy again.

I take a deep breath, enter the room and find Aidan innocently wearing my flip-flops with socks.
Shame on me!

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Another Cup Runneth Over

I have a love/hate relationship with the American Girl’s Puberty Book.  Being the oldest child, I didn’t have a sister to fill me on all the pubes, boobs and dudes. It didn’t help matters that I was such a tomboy so I was completely mortified by the appearance of any little knobs. (For the record, things kind of stopped there anyway. Be careful what you wish for!)

Anyway, I think I asked my poor mom something about periods and magically, some goofy paperback proclaiming to know everything about my body appeared on my bed. Kind of like when the training bras appeared on my bed.  I vowed that when I was Cool Mom, I would be so open with my daughter that there would be an  Afterschool Special based on my approachable approach.

All it took was one doctor appointment. The doc asked Eileen if she knew what puberty was, and my daughter kind of had a glazed look over her face, but nodded “yes.”  Then the doc went gushing on about girls stuff and Eileen just sat there and nodded.  The next day, she found the American Girl “The Body Book for Girls” that I had just got back after loaning it to another friend. So I did what I had always planned on doing, gave her the book and choked out, “Feel free to ask me any questions.”

She poured over the book. It had illustrations about how to insert a tampon. Explained B.O., blackheads, bad breath and bras.  I didn’t see her for hours. Finally at bedtime, Cool Mom enters her room and asks, “So do you have any questions about any of this stuff? I know it might be a little overwhelming, but I’ve been through it already.”

“Well, yes Mom, I do have a question for you.”

Oh Lord, please help me not mess her up for the rest of her life with my answer.

“What do you recommend, tampons or pads?”

So we had a little “talk” and everything that I mentioned, the book contradicted. Awesome! Maybe there’s hope that I really haven’t gone through puberty and the boobs will come! I did show her how to put a pad into her underwear. A lesson that my best friend in high school did not receive when she put the sticky side to herself and all the contents leaked onto her uniform skirt. YOUCH!!!!!  Not sure she really had a Brazilian in mind when she made that bad decision.

So Eileen asks if we can go bra shopping and also pick up some pads so she will be prepared. Sure, no problem. That will be easy enough since the front of the bra will have to be exactly like the back: SHE HAS NOTHING GOING ON! If it weren’t for her belly button, you couldn’t tell if she was facing forward or backwards. Nonetheless, I am really proud of her for being more mature about the subject than I am.

I happened to go to Walmart that night and return with my recommendation (pads) and a simple little training bra that looks like a cami cut in half.  Again, I put it on the end of her bed while she is sleeping. (Really, why break a family tradition at this point?)

The next morning at 6:30 am, Eileen appears at my side of the bed. “Mom. Mom. Mom. I don’t think this bra provides enough support.”

For what? A sunken treasure chest? A carpenter’s dream?

She explains that she really wanted the cute patterned bras that have little padded cups.

“Honey, I am sorry, but you don’t need that yet. And if you wore it to school with a fitted shirt, you will look like you woke up and had boobs. I have prayed for that since I was 16 and it just doesn’t work that way.”

She left and snuck a few pads into her backpack for “just in case.” Ironically, the book is now “missing.” Maybe I’ll check the end of my bed.

Click here to read about Aidan’s Cup Runneth Over…

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8 Year Check Up

Overheard my son at bedtime: “Hey Eileen, today the doctor pulled down my pants and squished my nuts. Squishy! Squishy! It was hilarious!”

Aidan in his birthday suit.

August, 2003

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