Tag Archives: holidays

May 5, 2015 · 10:00 pm

Am I Senile Or Forgetful?

Did you know that today is Cinco de Mayo? You did? And so did everyone else? Interesting.

I did. And then I didn’t. And then I did.

Sometimes I think I am related to Dory from Finding Nemo.

Here’s my train of thought:

“Hey! it’s Cinco de Mayo. I should have a margarita and some guacamole.”

Five minutes later…

“What am I going to do tonight? I think The Boy has Cub Scouts. Maybe The Girl and I can get frozen yogurt.”

Sees post on Facebook on how people who aren’t Mexican will be celebrating Cinco de Mayo.

Am I Senile or Forgetful | Ponies and Martinis

Tiny, the Chihuahua says, “What the heck? Remember my heritage, you crazy gringa!”

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot. I must remember to teach the kids about the Battle of Puebla.”

Later in the day…

“If I stop at Kohl’s, I can return those toys and pick up something for myself. Maybe that pencil skirt…”

I see an article about the best tequila on the market.

“Right. Cinco de Mayo. I used to drink an f-ton of Mexican beer to celebrate the holiday. I wonder if I could do that now…. But then I’d have a hangover, and who can work with a hangover?”

And so on and so forth until I’m at home, drinking a glass of Sauvignon Blanc on my couch and binge watching Daredevil on Netflix.

Seriously. I am amazed at myself. Where is my denunciation of the French? It’s certainly not stated in my wine choice. I might as well have said, “Gee, I wish the French had won the war. Let’s raise a glass to them.” Ugh. What the actual fuck?

(PS: condescending history lesson… Cinco de Mayo celebrates the defeat of the French in a key battle at the hands of the Mexican army)

So, what day is it again? Maybe I’ll have one more glass of wine before I go to bed. It’s not like anything is happening today, is it?

7 Comments

Filed under Martini Madness

Tagged as holidays, humor, parenting

April 5, 2015 · 10:45 pm

What Do You Mean, There is No Easter Bunny?

When I decided to propagate the myth of Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the rest of the pantheon of fictitious characters with my children, I knew there would come a day when the lies would have to end.

I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

This guy, is totally real

It started a few weeks ago when my son asked at bed time if Santa was real. He wasn’t as concerned with how long it would take Santa to deliver the presents, or even the manufacturing of said presents. It was the cookies.

“How can Santa eat all of those cookies and drink the milk? He would be really fat and unhealthy.”

I had prepared answers for the presents. Thanks to the Doctor Who Christmas special, I could claim that Santa was really a Time Lord and that the sleigh was bigger on the inside, thus enabling him to carry all of those presents around the world.

I was not prepared for milk and cookies-related queries. Maybe a vacuum that would suck them up so he could eat them later? Elves that came with him and ate them? Or, maybe parents did help with the cookies part? I liked the last option because with that I could angle for some parent-friendly beverages and at least get a little wine out of the situation. I’m lactose intolerant and I really take one for the team when I down that mug of milk. I’m surprised my horrendous gas has not given my away yet.

No dice. Apparently his friend saw his parents wrapping presents that were from “Santa.”

I screw up a lot when it comes to my kids, but I have been on top of this whole stealthy ninja stuff. I steal teeth, move plushy elves, and stuff a mean stocking. I need other parents to keep up. Their slacking is ruining my efforts.

I did a little song and dance and managed to put off revealing any truth, but I knew my time was running out. Then, just one day before Easter, I overheard my son talking to one of his little friends who was over for a playdate.

His friend was saying, “Yeah, I saw my mom with some Easter-themed Skylanders under her rug, so I know there’s no Easter Bunny.”

My no-longer innocent child replied, “You know, there’s no Santa either. My other friend saw his parents wrapping his gifts.”

To pour salt on the wound, my daughter was in the room with them. I can’t have two kids lose their faith on the day before Easter!

Pouring myself a large glass of wine, I steeled myself for the inevitable. I was going to have to tell my son the truth, and try to save my daughter from finding out as well.

I also cursed the other parents again. Sweet son of a Triscuit, why couldn’t they be more like ninjas?!

Using my best, “We have to talk voice” I pulled him aside.

“So, I heard you talking about Santa and the Easter Bunny,” I started.

“Yeah, I don’t believe in them.” He flippantly replied.

I tried once again to go through why he doesn’t believe and refuting his “evidence” but he kept reiterating that he didn’t believe in magic, and so he didn’t believe in Santa or the Easter Bunny.

Even though it could have backfired on me, I threw the only curveball I had.

“What about Jesus? You can’t see him, but you know he’s real.”

Heavy eye rolling ensued. “Mooooommmm…… that’s a totally different story.”

Knowing I was defeated, I threw in the towel and leveled with him. No, there was no Santa. Or Easter Bunny. Or Tooth Fairy. He looked excited to have been right, but there was a hint of sadness too.

The next morning, my young man played his part for his sister and enthusiastically opened his basket while declaring, “I love the Easter Bunny!” He tossed a not so subtle wink my way, but all things considered, my still-believing baby girl was none the wiser.

Honestly, I’m glad it went so well, but I can’t help but feel a little sad that this piece of his innocence has faded away. What’s next? Will he say that he won’t be going to Hogwarts? Or that he’ll never be a Pokemon trainer? I might need a hug and a stiff drink when that happens.

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Filed under Partying with the Ponies

Tagged as belief, easter, holidays, motherhood, parenting

December 29, 2014 · 9:44 pm

New Year’s Resolutions I Can Keep

I resolve to be more beach-friendly this year.

With the very best of intentions, I start off the new year with an ambitious resolution or two, like working out every day or not yelling at the kids. And slowly, but surely, I fail to keep them. This is why I still carry some baby weight and my kids are deaf.

This year, I have come up with a few resolutions that I know I can stick with.

1. Wear yoga pants more often. I have kept my yoga pants isolated to the gym, but I think I have been severely limiting my comfort. Have you ever worn those things? It’s like rolling in butter and lying in velvet all at the same time. I won’t wear them out in public, like one of those people from Walmart, but, I’ll wear them for lounging, kid drop-off, and girls’ night. Maybe I’ll buy my friends a pair or two too.

2. Drink more wine. I love, love, love wine, so when the kids go to bed, I pour myself a glass. Unfortunately, life gets in the way of me enjoying it. There’s laundry to fold, dishes to do, and eventually, it’s time for bed. Sometimes, I don’t even drink the whole thing. I know! It’s the saddest story in the world! There will be no more sad stories in 2015. God as my witness, I will finish my wine.

3. Act like an idiot with my girlfriends. When I had kids, I stopped going out with my friends. Oh, there would be brunch or coffee, or a night in, but nothing like the bacchanal we’d had in our 20s. I miss those days, when we’d go out looking super skanky, dancing like the rhythmless white girls we are, and knocking back a few Manhattans. We’d sing along with Bon Jovi and do things that I am really glad were not captured on video. Of course the next day would be hell, but it was worth it. I need to do that again. But, this time with a better hangover cure.

4. Enjoy mindless entertainment. I finally read The Grapes of Wrath, a few fascinating books by Bill Bryson, and watched the Ken Burns documentary series on Prohibition. I am so much smarter now than I was 12 months ago. But, dammit, I want to take my edumacation down a notch. I won’t go to the dark side and start watching the Kardashians, but I need more Amy Poehler, Doctor Who, and Arrested Development. The Joad family is way too depressing. Sweet baby Jesus, someone find them a Habitat for Humanity house and a union to join.

5. Nap. Oh, naps. How I do love thee. With every fiber of my soul, I worship you, O, great nap. This is a no-brainer. And to accomplish this, I will…

6. Stick to the basics with housecleaning. Scrub the toilets, vacuum up the tumbleweeds of dog hair in the hall, wipe down a few jelly smears, and call it a day. Dirt can only help my kids, right? Build up their immune system and stuff? And if it doesn’t work out, I’ll burn my house down and start over. Perfect.

7. Lose my filter. For most of my life, I have worried about what other people thought of me. I always had a frank personality that I kept locked away like a crazy aunt in the attic. This year, she is breaking free and taking over. Here comes the crazy, and it’s going to be good.

I may not manage to keep any of these resolutions, but I am going to do my damnedest to try. I mean, seriously, how fun is this year going to be?