Here are some things I did in places that were not here.

HELLO, WORLD! I've had some coffee. Not a LOT. Okay, a lot.

"New bottle full of Pedialyte instead of milk, fuck you. I don't even KNOW you. Okay, screw it. I will drink this bullshit once. Yes, okay. This is all right. No, wait. No, on second thought, fuck you. Fuck you in the ear. I'm going to slap you all the way into Idaho if you keep coming at me like that. Pedialyte. Can I get some fucking Pedialyte up in here? Who do I have to blow to get a bottle of goddamn Pedialyte? Oh, you mean THAT STUFF? Oh, fuck you."

This is but one excerpt from three of my favorite posts from last week!

"Let's face it: newborns are weird-looking. They cry a lot. They're terrible at board games. And yet many mothers profess to have instantly fallen deep in love with their scrunchy-faced, pink, kind-of-boring babies. Who can say why this happens? It happened to me, and even I don't understand it. But it doesn't happen for lots of mothers."

7 tips for new parents. Oh, magazines, you sure do love the numbered lists.

BY THE WAY, did you know that you can now comment on my Redbook posts via your Facebook account? It's true! Come with me on this magical journey! This magical...commenting...journey.

"When Hailey was born, Victor's grandad said that cats eat babies and he said that he was going to come over and slit our cats' throats and throw them in the garbage. This is all true. We shut the cats up with the baby whenever he was in the neighborhood just to keep them all safe but none of the cats ever even tried to eat the baby. Is Victor's grampa crazy or is there something wrong with my baby?"

No one gives an interview like Jenny. But no one.

Finally: this has nothing to do with me, but these videos of "Chloe Sevigny" have made me terribly happy this week. I can't stop laughing at them. I can't stop! Call 911!

Seriously. "Ironic coin skort"? I can't even write that without laughing.

Not sorry at all

Yeah, whatever, so I haven't been here all week. Pfft, like I even care.

Okay,  I DO care. Shut up. I can't even pretend with you guys. Getting back to work, and school, and HOMEWORK (growl smash rage), and other obligations that have forced me to get dressed and/or become more or less clean, has taxed my already-challenged brainsicle. But I've almost got this thing figured out! I'm dressed now and EVERYTHING. And it's four o'clock oh shit I was supposed to pick up Henry an hour ago.

Ha ha! He's at a playdate. I mean, I think. No one from the school or the department of child-maintenance or wherever has called me yet, so I assume everything's copasetic.

But look, there are three posts over at Redbook from me this week! I recommend that you read them. Thank you. I love you. Your hair smells like sunshine.

1. In which I write an angry letter to homework. And Homework writes back.

"I know that I can be a challenge! Did you know that the Lenape Indians faced hardships, too? Find 23 things in your home that remind you of the many challenges the Lenape Indians faced, then create physical representations of your feelings using the corn husks you gathered during your dinner which I hope included corn! Show your work!"

2. When your mom's a hoarder. For most of her life, Jessie Sholl hid a secret from almost everyone she knew: her mom is a compulsive hoarder. Her memoir, Dirty Secret, is about growing up with a mentally ill parent, and what it's like as an adult child of someone so troubled and erratic. It's a great book, and I'm not only saying that because Jessie is one of my favorite people in the universe.

3. Plastic surgery: would you consider it? In this post I sing the praises of Tina Rowley--hilarious blogger and noted Twitter personality--who, after the birth of her second child, beheld changes in her body of which she Did Not Approve. So she had a surgeon fix 'em. Because fuck it. As Tina would (and did, quite frequently!) say. Fuck it! I like the way she thinks.

Happy New Year

Henry's vacation combined with the fourteen feet of snow dumped on us rendered most of our plans for the week impossible, so we sat around. And around, and around. And oh my, it was glorious. Some days I didn't get out of my pajamas. Some days I ate nothing but Christmas cookies until noon. I went to the gym yesterday, and my yoga pants were noticeably tighter. Surely this is a coincidence.

My Redbook posts for the week were only now put up, due to editors being unavailable (thanks, inclement weather!). So here you are, in the waning light of 2010:

First, a highly biased list of some of the best parenting-related tweets of 2010. Please let me know what I missed--I bet there are some goodies.

And second, a look at New Year's resolutions. In which I name my inner critic Wanda. She TOTALLY deserved it.

Happy new year, everyone. Thank you for reading, and commenting, and being wonderful in general. I get a little choked up when I think of how much this blog, and all of you, have brought me and my family. And I think 2011's going to be amazing for us all. This is our year! TEAM!

As promised, I will now go on and on about my leg-coverings

Since last we spoke, there are two MORE Redbook blog posts up on the site. Two! We're getting the kinks worked out, but it looks like the blog will update every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. And we have a new name, which I will tell you as soon as it goes live.

In my last post I promised I would tell you all about my pants, which are jeans, and I love them. But I realized (too late) that my glorious, glorious jeans are from Uniqlo, and are thus only available in NYC (in the States, that is), so my flaunting them would be cruel.

This is why I am sparing you photographic evidence of said jeans. Your spirit might be forever crushed, if you saw them.

They are legging jeans (not jean leggings, which Uniqlo also has and are just tights with a jean design imprinted on them, and I would not recommend such an aberration, ever, ever ever ever), and Zan forced me to try them on, and I am forever in her debt. I would never have even considered them, as they are the skinniest of skinny jeans and are about 110% spandex and I assumed if I tried to get a pair on my person I'd be found an hour later, weeping in the dressing room, with the jeans bunched around my ankles. Zan assured me that I would love them, and I trust Zan in all things, so I trudged over to the dressing room. 10 minutes later I emerged looking like Moses coming down from Mount Sinai.


This is a picture of me.

I am sorry I cannot command you all to order them. They're ridiculously comfortable--they have an elastic waistband, for chrissakes--they look great (I think--frankly I don't even care if they don't) and I have three pairs and I would buy 10 more, given the chance. Oh! And they're $20. I know, I'm sorry. I'm the worst person ever, with the best pair of jeans.