Art is Everywhere

I’m picking winners for the Glee contest over the weekend, so it’s officially closed as of noon EST Friday. I know, longest contest in the history of ever, but between NAPOCALYPSE! and a mysterious tantruming child and bone-crushing exhaustion, it was the best I could do. Late, shmate! Extra days to enter, I say!

Speaking of, I mentioned I signed on to do another Smart Pop book, and this time it’s on … Friday Night Lights, which, if you didn’t know, is the best show on television, and better (worse?), I’m writing about Tami and Eric and I feel this enormous responsibility, because how great are Tami and Eric? SO GREAT. And it’s the last season, and I’m kind of devastated about it.

In other news, if you’ll indulge me a vent for a moment, oh my LANDS, child, the ATTITUDE. The tantrums! THE ALMOST-TWOS. It is simultaneously face-melting in its agony and positively GUT-BUSTING in its hilarity. The tiny, impotent fury! The screaming! The kicking! All because I wouldn’t put Yo Gabba Gabba on DEMAND. No, child. No. You do not get to sit on your ass and demand Yo Gabba Gabba JUST BECAUSE and when I say NO, throw yourself on the ground like I have just announced that the elves are coming for your brains! And your ears! And MAYBE YOUR OVARIES! TO EAT THEM!

No. Oh my God, no, kid, GO PLAY WITH YOUR TOYS. Here, let me help you. But also, HAHAHAHA, oh my God, please kill me while I die of laughter and hysteria and also, tears. Tonight, when I left for my haircut, she chased me to the door screaming, and then when I left, threw herself on the ground in a puddle, kicking and screaming, until Daddy came over to rescue her, offer her a visit to her buddies in her bedroom and VOILA! perfect child for the rest of the evening.

They save this shit for US. THE MOTHERS. BECAUSE THEY WANT US TO SUFFER.

Meanwhile, for your moment of pre-weekend schmoop, I have to tell you that I have the best friends. I am lucky and positively gobsmacked at my good fortune, and I wish everyone could have friends like mine. The kind who will come to your house even though it’s currently a shithole and you won’t even care that the recycling is on the counter in a big-ass plastic bag (next to a pizza box), because they won’t judge you, or even notice. Friends whose cabinets you can just root through when your kid is hungry without having to go through the awkward I-forgot-a-snack-I’m-so-sorry dance. The kind you can send random, non-sensical texts to about maybe watching your kid while you drive your husband to the hospital because he thinks he broke his foot (who the fuck knows … he opted not to go), and they’ll say yes without even hesitating, and then an hour later, you won’t even feel stupid when you tell them you can’t be the one to drive the kids to the museum tomorrow because, actually, your car smells like old cheese and we will all die of asphyxiation before we even get on the highway.

It’s just nice, and adds a really cozy layer of security to life, and though it was important to me before, I find that it’s even more critical now that I have Sam. I have sanity in the form of other moms who are not just other moms, but like, um, family ( one of whom some of you know) and I tell you, I don’t measure my life by many common indicators of success, but in this respect, I honestly feel like I won the lottery.

And finally, HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIFT GUIDE? My God, this thing is awesome. It’s AWESOME. 125 gifts under $25, done by the queen of gift-giving at Style Lush, Elizabeth. GOOD gifts. GREAT gifts. GIFTS YOU WANT TO BUY YOURSELF.

Happy weekend!

*MGMT on effing Yo Gabba Gabba

14 comments November 18th, 2010