Monthly Archives: April 2012

Mega-Bright: My Face Loves You

Ever since I had Samara, my skin hasn’t been the same. I’ve been breaking out with enormous cystic acne (one of which ended me up in the hospital when it turned into a boil) and getting dark spots.
My new skin problems made me really sad, considering I’ve never had significant skin issues in life.  My friend Donna suggested that I try Origins products, since I have really sensitive skin and their stuff is either organic or made with natural ingredients.

I walked into the Origins store on 23rd and Broadway, in the city, and I was truly overwhelmed by the amount of different products the housed in that small space.

I asked one of the salespeople about a product to help with the dark spots on my face. She recommended Mega-Bright. I was definitely skeptical because it was super expensive ($55 USD to be exact) considering the bottle is only 1fl oz.  I told the salesgirl that I wasn’t sure about it, so she gave me a sample to take home.

I’ve been using it for three days and I’m obsessed with it. It makes my skin feel amazing, and it works! Check it out, this is me with NO MAKEUP.   Not that I wear any makeup ever to begin with, but you get the idea. All I have on is moisterizer and Mega-Bright.

I hung out with my friend Bonnie, yesterday and she was like “Your face looks great! Are you wearing makeup?”
Nope, just Mega-Bright.

I put Mega-Bright on my dad’s face, and he was like “Wow, this makes me look five years younger!” He was pretty psyched.

Needless to say, I went on the Origins site and ordered it. If you have dark spot issues, I highly recommend this product. And dude, Origins doesn’t even know I’m writing this.

Don’t Lie to Me, I’m Your Mother!

Here’s an excerpt from a few days ago:
“Ari, did you spill chocolate milk on the table?”
“No, Egreck did it.”
“I find that hard to believe, Egreck doesn’t have opposable thumbs, he’s a cat.”
“Well he did.”
“It’s okay if you did it, just tell me. I won’t be mad.”
“I didn’t!”

Here’s another one. We’re walking down the street and I see one of those chalkboard signs outside of a restaurant that list daily specials. One minute I’m looking at the sign, and the next minute I notice that the once pristine sign has blurred words. Then I see there’s chalk residue on Ari’s fingers.
“Did you touch that sign?
“No.”
“There’s chalk on your hands, I think you touched it.”
“I didn’t!”
“Please just tell me the truth, I won’t be mad.”
“I touched it.”
“Don’t do that! The people inside the restaurant will be mad and people walking by won’t be able to read the sign!”
“Okay [Sighs].”

I don’t understand the lying. It seems like he just doesn’t want to get in trouble. The thing is, if he’s going to lie, at least come up with a plausible excuse. I don’t want to give him any ideas, but if I were him, I would blame everything on Samara. He sort of had the right idea with Egreck, because Egreck can’t talk back and say something like:
“No dude, that wasn’t me.”

But Samara can’t talk either…yet. Blame it on the baby, not the cat! If Samara “accidentally” spilled chocolate milk on the table, she can’t help it. I would totally milk that for all it’s worth, pun intended. But, again, I don’t want to give him any ideas.

Seriously though, this lying situation is grating on my nerves. I wish he would just cop to what he did instead of making things up.

Did your kid go through this phase?

Blogger May Delete My Old Posts

Dear Blogger, Google and anyone associated with the confusing email I just received,

I have been informed that my blog is a “legacy account.” I have no fucking idea what this means, and I’m terrified that after May, 30, 2012, all my posts will be gone.

Since it’s virtually impossible to contact anyone at Blogger or Google, I am writing this post hoping that someone can help me figure out how to preserve my blog.

I’ve tried to login to the Legacy Migration Page using my email address associated with Old School/New School Mom, and a password, which I know is correct, and I keep getting this message:

I know I’m using the correct email address, because when I look up my blog on the weird legacy site, this email adress comes up.

Someone please help! I can’t to make sure my posts don’t disappear.

Thank You,
Sarah Fader

A Nintendo Secret

Back in 1987 or so, my brother shared with me a very important secret. I’m now going to share it with you. Be careful who you tell about this:

Confessions of a Scary Mommy- A Review and Giveaway

Jill Smokler, otherwise known as Scary Mommy in Internet land, has written a hilarious book entitled Confessions of a Scary Mommy.

I wrote to Jill and asked if I could review her book. She wrote back immediately and replied “Where can I send the book?” I love her.
Confessions of a Scary Mommy, which Jill describes as the “anti-parenting book,” makes you feel good about yourself as a parent.
Chapter 20, which is entitled “The Xanax Approach to Parenting,” seems to be the overall theme of the book. Essentially what this approach boils down to is, chill the fuck out. Don’t take yourself too seriously, do the best you can do as a parent, and call it a day. There’s no need to obsess over being the “perfect mother,” because there is no such thing. This “perfect mother” (that many of us aspire to be) lives somewhere with the tooth fairy and the easter bunny.
In Confessions of a Scary Mommy, Smokler reveals what it was really like to be pregnant:
“I wish the government could bottle the discomfort that accompanies this point in pregnancy-the bloating and the aches and pains and the baby’s kicks. I think if they were able to inflict all of this on even the strongest of men, those men would cave under pressure. It would be the best torture method ever.”
(Smokler, P. 18)
Damn straight it would! Men could not remotely handle the demanding physical state otherwise known as pregnancy. They would undoubtedly crack under the pressure.
Smokler begins the book with the “not so glamorous” time of pregnancy and quickly moves into the even less fancy part of her journey more commonly referred to as “motherhood.”
“No matter how well groomed and well coiffed a woman might be before she has children, she transforms into something entirely different as soon as she becomes a mother. Something resourceful. Something impressive. Something…disgusting. Motherhood just has a way of stripping away all the girly glamour we try so hard to exude and reverts us back to how I imagine our cavewoman ancestors lived-mud on the face, raccoons for lunch, urine for hydration.”
(Smokler, P.53)
I can remember the first time I licked my finger and stuck my saliva onto Ari’s face to wipe away the schmutz that was convening there. Motherhood is truly the antithesis of glamour.
Confessions of a Scary Mommy tackles difficult issues like why mothers find the need to compete with one another, disliking other people’s children, how lazy husbands can be, and much much more.
Beginning each chapter are some excerpts from The Scary Mommy Confessional where real people have shared their deep dark secrets anonymously. Here’s one of my favorites:
“No matter how old you are, no matter how badass you think you are, if a toddler hands you his ringing toy phone, you fucking answer it.”
(Smokler P. 119)

Ultimately, Confessions of a Scary Mommy is a manifesto declaring that whatever kind of parent you are, it’s okay. If you’re happy, and you’re kids are happy, that’s all that matters. With every page, I found myself nodding and laughing aloud in agreement. This book is a must-read for parents with children of any age.
I just finished my copy, and guess what? I’m giving it away! I want everybody to read this book.
Now it’s your chance to win Confessions of a Scary Mommy!

Each counts as an entry:
1. Follow Scary Mommy on Facebook
2. Follow Scary Mommy on Twitter
3. Post a link to the giveaway on Facebook.
4. Tweet about the giveaway.
5. Follow Old School/ New School Mom on GFC
6. Follow Old/School New School Mom on Facebook.
7. Follow Old School/ New School Mom on Twitter
8. Post a comment about why you would like to read this book.

Winner will be selected randomly, and announced here on OS/NS Mom on May 16th 2012.

Patterns, Counting, and Addition Starring Unifix Cubes

I love Unifix Cubes. The Unifix Cube people are not paying me to say this. Hi Unifix Cube people!

I just love them. In fact, I accidentally overdrew my checking account while ordering them from Amazon. Oops!
Unifix cubes are awesome at teaching math and patterns. I also got a really cool Base 10 counting system which is fun to build with. Yep, I’m a nerd and proud of it!
Check it out, Ari will show you how they all work:

This Morning

I like coffee. This is a video. It has eggs in it.

Biking With a Broom and Strangers That Can’t Shut Up

Ari got an early birthday present, his first bike!
When I bought the bike, it had training wheels on it. Since getting the bike, I’ve been in and out of the bike shop, having the training wheels put on, and then taking them off. I was ambivalent about the training wheel situation, since I’ve taught kids to ride bikes before by just taking the pedals off the bike entirely.
One of the times that I was in the bike shop having the training wheels taken off, this guy approached me and said:
“You know how I taught my kids to ride a bike? I’m from Sweden, and we bike everywhere. I never bothered with training wheels. I used a broom to hold the bike up. I have four kids and it worked with all of them.”
“That’s a great idea!” I replied. And with that, Ari and I went to the 99 cents store to buy a broom. The broom ended up being $4.00, which I didn’t understand seeing as we were at the “99 cent store” where I believe things should cost 99 cents.
I bought the broom and tried it out. It worked great!

We were having an awesome time, until two guys passed by. One of the guys smiled and looked at our broom/biking experiment.
“Isn’t it cool?” I said “It actually works!”
The guy replied:
“Yeah, you know what else works? A belt.” And then looked over at my jeans, which were low on my hips.
He and his friend started to laugh. I was dumbfounded.
“Hey!” I shot back “That was really mean!”
That was all I would muster up. I had no witty comeback.
So we went back to biking with the broom. Then the broom snapped in half and broke!
Lesson learned: If you do try the broom/biking combination, I would recommend using a plastic broom as opposed to a wooden one.
Maybe I should stick to training wheels.
Also if a stranger gives you unwelcome wardrobe advice, quickly assess what they’re wearing and find a way to make fun of it.

The Day I Tried to Clean Up- A Video

This morning, I decided to try to clean the living room. Here’s what happened…in a video:

10 Reasons Why My Period Can Go Fuck Itself

I have my period right now, and I hate it. I’ve hated it since the moment I first got it at 12 years-old. I’m still in denial about it. Every time it ends, I feel like it’s the last time I’ll ever see it again. But yet, like an unwelcome ex-boyfriend, it keeps making a regular appearance every month for the past 20 years, minus the two years I was pregnant where it was absent,
thank G-d!
Without further ado, I bring you 10 reasons why my period can go fuck itself.
10. Going anywhere or doing anything seems impossible.
9. I can’t zip my jeans.
8. No matter what I do, I have stains on my underwear and potentially my pants, so it looks like I pooped on myself.
7. I look pregnant even though I’m clearly not, hello! I have my period!
6. Whenever anyone says anything to me I want to tell them to fuck off and die.
period
5. Period products are bullshit. Maxi pads feel like adult diapers, tampons are uncomfortable and leak, and I end up losing the reusable products in the chaos that is my apartment.
I have my period, where the hell is that thing that I paid 20 dollars for that is supposed to save me money?
4. I want to sleep all day, but I can’t!
3. I want to eat everything all the time, and I do! Then I feel like a hot air balloon.
2. I can’t have sex, which (as we all know) solves most problems in life.
And the number one reason that I hate my period is…
1. It makes me feel totally and utterly insane.
This has been a public service announcement from your mom.