Snarky Mommy

My Mother’s Day was filled with delightfulness. I got to sleep late, awoke to kids sooooo excited to give me my cards and presents (homemade necklaces! handmade cards! a new Coach bag for my computer! a massage gift certificate!). After everyone got dressed, we headed out to my most favoritest brunch place in the city, M. Henry’s, where we put our name in for an hourlong wait. Thankfully we had a very handy app developed by a school friend (Playground Pointers — if you’re local, check it out!) so we found a nearby playground and the kids had a blast running around in the sunshine. Josh taught them how to play Cops and Robbers, which was slightly questionable in the political correctness arena, but they freaking loved it and we all actually played together nicely.

Our brunch featured a breakfast bread pudding with fruit, a little dish called Blisscakes (pancakes layered with creme anglaise, blackberries and granola), a fried egg/bacon/cheese sandwich on sourdough bread and brioche French toast. It was pretty much dessert for breakfast and it was freaking delicious. Of course pickypants Maeve didn’t like any of it, so we got silver-dollar pancakes for her and there was MORE FOR ME.

During Maeve’s nap I took the big kids for haircuts, because I actually enjoy doing that and then dropped them off at home while I walked down to the grocery store and Sephora BY MYSELF. I then got a manicure while Josh took them to play outside and came home to read a book in my bedroom ALONE. I emerged to read bedtime books and kiss everyone goodnight and then enjoyed an amazing sushi and red wine dinner in front of last week’s episode of Mad Men with Josh.

My massage that Josh had thoughtfully arranged for that night was canceled when the therapist called in sick, but was rescheduled for tonight during the witching hour between dinner and bedtime, so really, it’s kind of better than having it actually ON Mother’s Day! Score!

The day was everything I wanted it to be — some time both with and without the kids. And since Josh had to deal with all the unpleasantness of making meals, cleaning up and administering punishments, I simply enjoyed myself. He’s really excited for Father’s Day, as you can imagine.

Fresh off my annual Momcation in Vegas this morning, I awoke feeling like I might need a liver transplant, but very excited to see my children. And they were excited to see me, as well. Smiles and hugs and niceties abounded and we had a drama-free morning culminating with an early departure for school. I should go away more often.

We were walking along the sidewalk, Emmie holding my hand when she breezily announced, “Mommy, I want to go live with grandma because I like her better than you.” (Grandma was here for about 24 hours during my trip because SOMEONE had to go to New York for the night for a party. I swear to God. I go away with my friends one weekend a year and he manages to find a way to get out of watching the kids alone. Lame.)

Realizing the five-year-old middle child was taking the long way around telling me how she felt about me being away, I responded evenly. “I can see why you might feel that way, and that’s fine, but it makes me a little sad.”

Instead of considering my feelings, she then went on to throw the other children under the bus.

“And if Jack and Maeve didn’t come with me, it would just be me and Grandma and Grandpa and Sadie and I could sleep on the top bunk all the time!” she crowed. OK then, Emily, tell us how you really feel. I wanted to bust out laughing, but I said that would probably be very fun for her and Jack interrupted to tell her he would indeed be sleeping on the top bunk this weekend when we visit. This was met with howls of protest. Can I just go back to drinking mimosas by the pool, please?

But she wasn’t done yet. A few blocks further, a garbage truck was following us and then turned off into an alley. With her typical dry delivery, Emmie announced, “Wow, I am so glad that garbage truck isn’t following us anymore. What if it came all the way to school, crashed into 109 and Ms. Michelle and all the friends got squooshed?”

I’m sorry but this kid is just too much.

“Emmie! Why would you say such a thing?” I said loudly, trying not to laugh.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I sure am glad it turned.”

On the way back from dropping the kids at school this morning, I encountered an older gentleman on the sidewalk. I see him from time to time, always with his gigantic white poodle, which is not leashed. Today was no different. The dog was running about 20 feet ahead of the man, panting and making a beeline right for me.

I stepped aside, looked up from a text message I was reading and casually said to the man, “You know, there’s a lot of kids in this neighborhood. You need to keep your dog on a leash.”

He exploded with indignity.

“And you should shut your mouth. I don’t need to need leash my dog. Just shut the hell up,” he said.

Allllllrighty then, JACKASS. It’s on.

“Actually, you DO need to leash your dog. It’s against the law not to,” I replied evenly.

“There’s a lot of things that are illegal,” he yelled. “Like running your mouth about things you don’t know anything about.”

Sir, please allow me to introduce the First Amendment.

Also, he’s clearly not acquainted with this blog. You know, the place I run my mouth about things I don’t know anything about.