Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist

At least that’s what Pablo Picasso said. He seemed to be pretty smart, so I’m taking his advice.

Check out the latest post I wrote on www.liesaboutparenting.com, because you know, parenting is all about lying, cheating and breaking the rules!

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holy crap my daughter’s Christmas list is longer than a CVS receipt*

I LOVE Christmas. I love it so much that I’m probably one of the few people who doesn’t get bothered to see Christmas decorations right next to the Halloween ones in early October. I personally welcome anything that will make this holiday season stretch as much as it can, even if it means buying a pumpkin and a mistletoe at the same time.

My love for Christmas is obvious. So obvious, that I made my own Christmas list way before my daughters, and if you still haven’t read it just click here and enjoy.

Did you read it? No? Ok, one last chance, click here and enjoy.

Did you read it now? Great!

Anyway, if you thought that list was ambitious you should check out what my daughter is asking for.

Wish me luck because this is a long one.

Behold my 4-year-old’s Christmas list:

as dictated

As carefully dictated

  • Frozen dolls –  Pfffft! One step ahead of you kid! I bought these way before all the Elsa dolls in the world went out of stock. Just kidding. I just bought one for three times as much because all those f*cking dolls are out of stock.
  • Baby doll – number 18 to add to the pile.
  • American Girl – ay ay ay $$$
  • Romy’s sister – Who the hell is Romy?!? Note to self: find out who Romy is, then find out if she even has a sister. And are we even sure it’s her biological sister? What if she’s the product of an extramarital affair and they’ve been living a lie all these years? OMG Focus! Focus!
  • The doggie – Apparently, this dog is a big deal judging by the use of the word “the”. Must binge watch commercials and see which one is “the doggie” and it better not be a high maintenance one that requires those big ass square batteries or an app.
  • My own phone – Uhhh No.
  • Games – Hope educational games are alright with you.
  • New game – How did you know I’m getting you an educational game? I’m also thinking you are NOT alright with it.
  • Play Doh machine – They have machines now? In my time you would use a fork, an ice-cream scooper and whatever other kitchen utensil you could sneak out of the kitchen. So that’s what you’ll be using.
  • New dolly – Is this in addition to the baby doll, Romy’s “sister” AND the reason I’m going bankrupt American Girl doll???
  • New purse – To keep your new imaginary phone in, I suppose.
  • New clothes and shoes – Maybe Mrs. Claus can pick out an outfit or two. I’m pretty sure she already knows you change your outfit at least 7 times a day (this is a fact).
  • New stickers – Cheap and small. Check!
  • Hair ties – I fully support anything that will let me sit down and make beautiful creations to your pretty, bouncy hair.
  • One peluca (wig) red, short, with straight hair – hmmm…..not really sure what to make of this.
  • New scarf for winter –  You like to accessorize, yet you want to keep yourself warm. Smart and cute.
  • Colores (colors) – You run through a box of crayons like I run through a box of chocolates. So yes, you will be getting a couple of boxes…and so will I.
  • New heels – Didn’t you JUST ask for new clothes and shoes? But you’re right, a girl can never have enough shoes.
  • A pretty dress with lots and lots of flowers – Again, you JUST asked for new clothes and shoes!
  • A new cremita (lotion) “for my face doesn’t tan” – I’m so glad you’re embracing your paleness porcelain like skin.
  • My own tablet – Hahahahahahahaha NO.
  • More food – Geez! Santa’s going to think we’re starving you. You DO know your dad’s a chef right?
  • My own book – Wait. WHAT?? Santa’s a publisher too? I’m totally sending him a manuscript!!
  • A whole lot of candy – A whole lot!! That sounds like mountains and mountains of candy, which I’m sure is exactly what you have in mind. You can eat the ginger bread house on Christmas morning. You’re welcome.

Do you think it’s too much? I do, because I have TWO daughters, so I get TWO separate lists.

And this is what my oldest wants:

  • AMERICAN GIRL EVERYTHING – You know what? Just take all my money. Here, just take it!

Such efficiency

Not only did she write in detail what she wanted, but she circled each item from the catalog so that Santa wouldn’t even have a chance of missing anything. She then thought it would be a good idea for Santa to actually take the catalog with him, you know as a precaution, but not before making him a sign asking him to please bring it back.

 

 

 

*For those of you who don’t know what a CVS receipt looks like, here you go:

This is an actual receipt for the purchase of ONE pack of gum.

This person probably just purchased a pack of gum and got stuck with all this unnecessary paper, much like my daughter’s 18th doll.

 

14 days ’til Christmas. I better hustle!

because I complain a lot! 11 things I’m grateful for

The other day I found myself complaining about how tired I was of having to carry the groceries up the stairs in my building. Then, I complained about all the toys that were blocking my way in. Then I complained about how long it took for the water to get warm while my daughter stood freezing next to me. After that, I complained about how foggy the mirror was and I couldn’t see myself clearly (No, I did not complain about that because I keep all my  mirrors spotless so I can always look at my beautiful face). And then it hit me: I complain about everything! I complain about this and I complain about that, without even realizing that I have everything I need. I have money to buy food, stairs that take me up to my heated home, water that magically appears with just the turn of the knob.

All this complaining is making me grumpier than what I usually am. So I decided then and there that every time I complain about something (because who am I kidding, I’ll probably never stop), I’m going to think about at least one thing to be grateful for, like dry shampoo for example, because no one really has time to wash their hair that often.

I ran to tell my husband all about it, but I had to run back to the bathroom and wrap my daughter up in a towel so she wouldn’t freeze. So then I ran back, but then ran back to the bathroom to turn off the running water, seriously people, let’s not waste it. I ran back one more time, but then ran back to the bathroom because my daughter kept screaming that I had wrapped her too tight, fallen on the floor and was wiggling like a worm.

When I finally got to him (sweating and out of breath because clearly I don’t work out at all) and shared with him this life changing epiphany, he looks up and says, “REALLY???” Sarcasm. He owns it.

So I have made myself this list of things to be grateful for that I will be putting up on my refrigerator door to look at every time I lose my sh*t. I was going to wait until November to post this, because you know, Thanksgiving and stuff, but why wait? I’ll just beat everyone to the punch and post this in October.

11 Things I’m Grateful For

My daughters – Not only they’re the sweetest, smartest, best smelling little girls I know (yes, I smell them and they smell like marshmallows and puffy clouds mixed together. No you may not smell them), but they are the source of my never-ending mood swings. I appreciate that because every time they make me angry, they also make me infinitely happy. They make me yell, but they also make me laugh uncontrollably.  They make me question my intelligence every time they ask a question like, “what is a mammal and what’s the difference between them and reptiles?” To what I answer “welllll…..mammals have hairs….I think….oh look, your show is on!” But they also make me smarter because I’ve never googled so much crap as I’ve done in the past 7 years.

My husband – Because I am a moody bitch that never uses the corresponding face with the corresponding emotion and some how he still loves me.

Coffee – The reason I am not currently serving time for murder.  Ok, so maybe I won’t kill you if you talk to me before the caffeine takes over my body, but I will probably attack you.  Thank you coffee for keeping alive all the people I love.

Friends –   Because my husband will never give me an honest answer when I ask him what he thinks about an outfit, or if I still look pretty with these few extra pounds. I don’t know if he’s being sweet or just plain scared. Either way, he’s no good. So that’s when your friends step in. To tell you that outfit looks hideous and that you’re better off just burning it instead of not wearing it.

Chocolate – No need to explain myself. Chocolate.

24 hour healthcare – You know that if your child is going to get sick, it’s going to be in the middle of the night. No way for them to start throwing up a storm, say, I don’t know, 10 a.m.? 2 p.m.?  Any time between 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. would be great kids. Please and thank you.  Nobody wants to leave the house at 2 in the morning when it’s 25 degrees outside (oh yes, it has happened), especially your Caribbean born parents. So thank you, 24 hour urgent care places. We’re all too familiar with you and we hope not to visit you again this winter.

Ancient Persian Riders – Who are they you might ask? They are the geniuses behind high heel shoes, or so says Wikipedia, and of course I trust the Wiki people because they are highly reliable. Having an impressive height of 5-ft tall, you can usually see me wearing high heels, wedges and anything that can lift me off the floor at least one inch, because I am damn tired of having to climb over anything (and that includes people) in order to reach the adult cereal boxes at the store.

Carbs –   Even though there’s an evil hidden in all of them, they are my faithful companion during the long, cold winter days; during my grumpy days; and pretty much during any other day of the year.  Forget ice cream pints or shots of tequila. Nothing makes me feel better than a bowl of white rice (yes, I said white, calm down) or any bread, potato, or anything starchy for that matter. One time a guy broke up with me (the nerve!) and instead of drowning my sorrows in a bottle of vodka, I ate a whole pot of rice.

Razors – No one wants a grizzly bear walking around, and shaving my legs with my husband’s internationally acclaimed, super expensive, extra shiny, professional chef’s knife is a big no-no, and also gross.

‘N Sync – Greatest boy band ever. Do not discuss with me, in my mind they’re still together. Remember that time that guy broke up with me and I cried over a pot of white rice? I was listening to Bye Bye Bye because I don’t wanna be a fool for you, just another player in your game for two…

And finally, let us join our hands together and be grateful for David Beckham’s existence.

 

image via etsy.com

image via etsy.com

What are you grateful for?  If you say sour gummy worms I will love you forever.

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that one time I had dinner with 35 foodies

I’ve said it a million times, and I’ll say it again: I am a disaster when it comes to anything that involves making food. I love to eat, don’t get me wrong, maybe a little too much actually, the problem is I can’t cook, I get annoyed reading food labels, I don’t know if 500 calories for a bagel is ridiculous or not, I can’t tell the difference between parsley and cilantro and I’m not entirely sure what a Rutabaga is, and I had to Google the correct spelling for it. I’m not proud of this trust me, I’m still working on it.  The fact that I married a chef is a huge deal for me, because I went from eating Ramen Noodles to eating fresh homemade pasta. Score.

After 10 years of being married to this guy, I’ve learned a thing or two in the kitchen, that doesn’t mean I like it now, it just means that I won’t starve to death when he’s not around. So when my husband told me that we were invited to one of his friend’s house for dinner, along with around 35 other chefs and foodies my heart immediately stopped.  Putting aside the fact that I didn’t know ANYONE at this dinner, I knew the only topic of conversation was going to be about food, something I know nothing about, except how to eat it.

I tried binge watching the Food Network Channel a few days before to see if maybe I could learn some of the lingo and not look like a complete idiot, but I couldn’t do it. I got so anxious watching these people trying to make a gourmet entrée using only a tub of peanut butter, an orange peel and a potato.  I also tried reading some of my husband’s books, I fell asleep. I tried getting him to give me a quick crash course, but it wasn’t quick, it involved charts and homework, so I told him I had to do the neighbor’s laundry and ran away.

My only hope was that maybe another lost wife was going to be there too,  maybe we would bond over our culinary ignorance, maybe we would talk about kids, maybe we would talk about shoes, maybe we would become bff’s. I was getting excited about meeting my new imaginary best friend and so was my husband, he had noticed me having all these pretend adult conversations with myself and frankly, I was starting to look like a mental person.

We got there and were received by 30 something people. I knew no one. I clenched my husband’s hand, but of course, he soon exchanged it for a glass of wine.  I looked around and did not see another lost wife like me, everyone knew each other.

After what seemed hours of following my husband around like a lost puppy mingling, we sat down and waited for the first course, in the meantime, everyone was talking about food, and ingredients, and techniques, and foam, and liquid nitrogen*(apparently, the super cool use it to cook) and that chef that was the underdog and now is super famous. All gibberish to me.

I had nothing to say.

First course came out, everyone whipped out their cameras and started snapping pictures, I followed. I don’t even know why, but everyone was doing it. One hour later we were on our fourth course. I kept thinking about my daughters, hoping  the little one would start crying so much that my father in-law would have no other option but to call me. No calls. 5th course…no calls.

Me: “So dessert is next? This is our 5th plate of food, I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

Husband: “It’s fifteen courses, desserts (as in more than one) come after.”

Fifteen courses. FIFTEEN.

I wasn’t sure I was going to make it all the way to the last course, but everything was so good I just kept eating and eating. With so much food around me and my non-stop eating, there was no time to join in the conversation even if I tried. They will ever know how much I don’t know.

I hear ya!

I hear ya!

We made it to the 9th course before my father in-law really called in a panic. The baby had woken up and wouldn’t stop crying. We had to leave early and I asked my husband if it was too tacky to ask for take out. He rolled his eyes and we left.

Next time I’ll be sure to be well prepared, I’ll study the charts and do the homework, learn the lingo and even practice some recipes of my own. I promise.

P.S.  Thank you to all the chefs and cooks out there (specially my hubby and his friends), who dedicate their days cooking AMAZING dishes. Thank you for sharing your passion and art.

* I had actually written dry ice but my husband had a mini heart attack and quickly corrected me.