Posts Tagged ‘Mr. Mommy Prayers’

In defense of the corn-maze mom

October 16, 2011

Here at Mommy Prayers headquarters and cider-donut repository, every day feels like a maze of one sort or another, so I feel compelled to come to the defense of the hapless family currently being ridiculed nationwide for calling 911 to be rescued from a corn maze. (Punchline: They were only 25 feet from the entrance, ba-da-dum.)

They’re catching especial hatred for having a three-week-old infant with them, with comments along the lines of “who brings a newborn to a corn maze at dusk?” and “those people should not be allowed to procreate,” etc. etc.

It’s not till you read that they also have a preschooler that the story makes more sense — and boy, did it bring back some baaaaad memories.

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Dio Mio — Mommy Prayers in Italian?

June 4, 2011

Here at the Mommy Prayers world headquarters and pizza capricciosa takeout bar, we are wiping away tears of joy with one hand and pouring a small glass of prosecco with the other: Le Preghiere delle Mamme has arrived.

That’s right, gente, Mommy Prayers has been translated to Italian. I could not be happier. No, wait, I could be happier. I could be happier if I were reading Le Preghiere delle Mamme on a balcony of Le Sirenuse in Positano. Then I could not be happier.

But even stuck in the under-dusted Mommy Prayers home office from hell, I’m still pretty happy. Mr. Mommy Prayers and I, back when he was only my intended and I was years away from being anyone’s mommy, spent six glorious months in Italy, the memory of which will sustain us both till the day we die.

We were broke, parceling out our small savings 10,000 lire at a time, living in a series of studio sublets (Florence, Rome, Positano, Trevi, Venice) — and absolutely, positively drunk in love with Italy and the Italiani.

Even in our non-childed state, it was a wonder to see how enraptured Italians are with children — theirs, strangers’, any child, any nationality, any time day or night. I will never forget finishing up a lovely and modest dinner one night at 10:30 or so, only to have a family of 15, including toddlers and a babe-in-arms, pile in and take over the joint. (The joke here, if you have not had the fortune of traveling in Italy, is that only foreigners eat before, say, 11 at night. Early bird is 9:30, 10 p.m., maybe.)

Immediately a waiter swept up the baby, to nobody’s consternation, and showed him off  to every other table in the place one by one, before disappearing with him behind the swinging double-doors of the kitchen. That mother ate an entire, dizzyingly delicious meal with not one care for her baby and not one peep out of the little ragazzo.

It’s standard operating procedure in Italy — babies are from heaven, welcomed everywhere at any hour, as much a part of life as al dente pasta, beautiful tailoring, and the Pope.

So the thought of those mothers, those parents, reading Mommy Prayers Italian-style? What can I say? Dio mio.

Mother’s Day, Cancelled

May 7, 2011

When the phone rang the other day at Mommy Prayers world headquarters, we picked it right up — something that happens less and less frequently with that tired old land-line. But caller ID was telling us it was mom, our matriarch, the glue that holds us all together (mostly with stuffed shells and too much dessert) — still working at 74, always ready to show up to a grandchild’s saxophone recital, forever gifting us with dish towels and tote bags.

Ma. How we love her.

She said, “Let’s not get together on Mother’s Day.”

Really?

“Don’t send me anything either.”

Ouch.

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What’s worse than a loaded swim diaper?

June 30, 2010

The Mommy Prayers summer crew packed its bags last week for a too-short trip to Martha’s Vineyard, one of the most magical places on God’s green earth. It was our first time away since our, er, quirky trip to North Dakota, which was fascinating and elucidating but a bit too much work to be called a vacation. 

Once we made it off the ferry, Mr. Mommy Prayers and I snuck off to the beach (it’s kind of famous, actually) to reminisce about all the crazy and beautiful times we’d had on M.V. pre-kids, while the very much present-tense children stayed behind at the Inn to watch World Cup Soccer. 

As we talked and read dug our toes in the sand, we were well aware of the envious looks – or perhaps the better word is murderous –being cast our way by parents with tiny offspring in full-blown meltdown mode.

To which I can only retort: Been there, O parents, done that! 

There’s only one thing more hideous that trying to get a toddler to leave the beach willingly, and that’s trying to get a toddler in a loaded swim diaper to leave the beach willingly. 

Oh wait, there is one thing worse — when the swim diaper’s gone missing entirely (from Prayer at the Beach):

Dear God, our baby is naked, utterly caked with sand, and screaming bloody murder because we’ve told her it’s time to go…

She’s swallowed at least a half-gallon of sea water, stomped on every sand castle within a hundred yards of our blanket, stripped off her swim diaper, and peed in front of a large family from some Scandinavian country (think tiny Speedos and white-white skin)… 

Please, Lord, if you could somehow help us get to our car with our sanity intact, I promise the next time we’re craving a little sun, we’ll stay home next to the blow-up kiddie pool.

 Amen.

Ham. Pineapple. Mother’s Day. What more did you want?

May 7, 2010

The Mommy Prayers pit crew is down for the count, crumpled to the floor (well, to be precise, the couch) by a weekend and then a bunch of weekdays of book-launch festivities that included some awesome family n’ friends connections and re-connections, more than a few high-end sweets, and a little cocktail we called the Missing Binkie that incorporates a clear liquid I haven’t been able to consume in quantity since college days (damn you B.B. King at the State Theater).

Thank the Lord some of my cohorts in crime are still able to ingest in typical volumes. Me, I stuck with the squished grapes of the white variety. Lovely as always.

There are way too many people to thank for the book-launch highs, but in particular, the Mommy Prayers matriarch, 72 and still kickin’ it, really delivered by dragging a significant number of her nursing co-workers to the book signing to really send our little tome out into the world in good style.

(Have I mentioned how much I adore “old nurses,” as she freely refers to herself and her lady buddies? Topic for another day: Why nurses rule.) (more…)

Working from home: The good, the bad and the chubby

April 13, 2010

Today is book publication day – whee! You’ll be relieved to know Mommy Prayers is now officially available from your favorite book vendors, physical or virtual.  

To mark the moment, Mr. Mommy Prayers had flowers sent – always a brilliant plan, darling – and I brought them right upstairs and wedged them on a postcard-sized space on my desk that was mysteriously clutter-free, so my “office” is now a (spare bed)Room with a View.

This seems like as good a time as any to salute the virtues (and pitfalls) of working from home, something I’ve been doing since just before my older son was born, back in another century.

Pluses: No need for Spanx, pencil skirts or an “accessories wardrobe”; flexible schedule permits attendance at midday elementary school recorder concerts; folding laundry while on speakerphone conference calls; always-there availability for kids & dog. 

Minuses: No way to justify Nordstrom purchases, not even off the sale rack; always-open kitchen; too-chatty neighbors; lack of centralized IT support for crappy, dying laptop; always-there availability for kids & dog.  (more…)