Posts Tagged ‘ traffic ’

Why I Liked My Mammogram

Friday, July 12th, 2013

I’ve never been so excited to get a mammogram. Not because it’s at all fun. Not because I want to get it over with due to my-hypochondia-that-makes-my-head-spin-at-night-over-the-alleged-tumors-growing-in-my-body-that-will-leave-my-kids-motherless. No, I was excited because I got to be in the car for 15 minutes. Alone. Then in the waiting room for 15 minutes. Alone. I was actually hoping they were running late. I brought the paper just in case. Then I had another 15 minute drive home. Alone.

It’s the same reason I love getting stuck in traffic in Los Angeles–which is not hard to do. But only if I’m alone.

It’s my time. I can listen to NPR, not Elmo. I can talk on the phone, not scream at my kids to stop screaming.  I don’t have to keep them awake with my own terrible vocal chords by botching Old MacDonald so they won’t fall asleep and screw me on the afternoon nap.

I know every parent can relate to what I’m saying so my words are nothing new. In fact, my friend and fellow blogger Jill Simonian has started to take naps in her car. She took a video of how it’s done. I’ve done it once myself and it felt great.

But back to my boobs. I had to wait 7-months after breastfeeding to get this routine mammogram done. And while I know I’m all over the place here–and I wrote recently about the sad state of my boobs–I actually do have a question. I seem to still have a tingling sensation at times. I wouldn’t call it a sharp pain, or even the “letdown” but it comes and goes, mostly in my left boob. The technician thought that was fairly common. Is it?

Do any of you who have stopped breastfeeding for a while still experience a tingling feeling intermittently throughout the day? Because if not, it is one more thing for me to spin over.

Maybe this is too much information. But in light of the Holly McNish video poem–which I hope you all have watched–I figure I may as well start an adult discussion about boobs that is more meaningful than a tacky billboard full of them (if you’re confused as to what I’m referencing, watch the link above).

Now, if my mammogram comes back with problems, I will eat this post. All of it. Until then, I’m standing by my delightful mammogram excursion.


Pic of mammogram machine via Shutterstock

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Milestone Monday: What I Said I’d Never Do

Monday, September 17th, 2012

If there was one thing I swore I’d never do as a parent it was to go to a Chuck E. Cheese.

So it is with great sadness, mixed with a feeling of failure and deep depression, that I find myself confessing. Yes, I’ve been to hell and back. I’m not proud.

The day started out so promising. Fia, Teddy, Courtney, and I were going to a waterpark.  Yes, one of those places, as Courtney pointed out, we could get a flesh-eating disease. Luckily none of us had any open wounds (though it probably wouldn’t have stopped me).  Fia and I had gone a few times to this place and had a blast. Plus, I was so excited about the chicken nuggets I had dreamt of them the night before.

Being silly non-California girls, we made the mistake of not checking to see if a waterpark would still be open in, oh, 100+ degree heat. I mean September is the hottest month out here. Why would one NOT be open?

We got stuck on the freeway with a tractor-trailer turned on its side, but remained optimistic. What should have taken 30 minutes took more than an hour. But the refreshing urine-filled water awaited.

We pulled up to the parking lot and not a soul was in sight. A big sign told the awful news. “Raging Waters Closed.” Huh?? We had our swimsuits on. Towels and snacks packed. And two toddlers waiting to get wet.

Well, apparently it’s only open on the weekends once the thermometer hits 100 (or when school starts again, which happens simultaneously). Makes a whole lot of f–king sense. I panicked. Courtney–ever the level headed one–went into action. Google. Google more.

“There’s a Chuck E. Cheese nearby!” she exclaimed. I looked at her in horror. Then she confessed that in New Jersey she had reached desperate measures (who doesn’t when you move there from Brooklyn?) and had taken Teddy to one.

Teddy started shouting with glee, “Chuck E. Cheese!” Fia joined in even though she had no idea what she was cheering about. My body began to fill with dread.

Ten minutes later I found myself in a parking lot in Covina, California in 110-degrees. Friends, this is what it means to hit rock bottom in motherhood. If you’ve been to one of these places, then you know what I am talking about. Bad pizza, tickets that get you crappy toys (made by children in China), a giant mouse walking around, and dare I say, on all the rides there must be staph. At least a waterpark has chlorine. The one upside was the central air. The bottom of our house has no a/c, so I tried to bask in it. If there’s such a thing as basking at a Chuck E. Cheese.

I felt dirty. I still do.

These are the sacrifices we make as parents. This is why being a mom is truly the hardest job in the world.


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Moving Mid-Pregnancy: Traffic School

Wednesday, December 28th, 2011

Author’s Note: Join me every Tuesday or Wednesday for “Moving Mid Pregnancy,” to read about my ongoing search for a new “everything” (from nannies to mom friends to health providers) while pregnant and living in a new city.


Looks like I get to go to Traffic School. What’s that you ask? It’s like detention in the movie, The Breakfast Club—but for traffic violations.  I guess I have found the downside to driving.  And I was so enjoying traffic here. Damn.

Last week Fia and I were leaving Griffith Park. I had taken her to this lame-o exhibit called Travel Town. Complete with trains that kids can’t climb on and a toy train track with no train (maybe it’s BYOT? Bring Your Own Train?). We were heading home and I must not have stopped completely at a stop sign. Cue the sirens.  My huge belly didn’t help at all. The officer didn’t care. C’mom Little Leroy. Do your magic rather than just kicking me constantly.

In California a violation like this can literally double your car insurance. Which is why they offer Traffic School–an 8-hour day where you get a lesson in proper road rules. Painful. Followed by a Driver’s Test. Doubly Painful. In exchange: you still pay the fine, but the points are erased.

My traffic school date happens to fall on my C-section date. Hmmm…I wrote in my controversial homebirth article that I’m pro-choice. So now I get another choice: Traffic School or Birthing Baby?

I called the LA Superior Court today to see about moving the date. Their recording says, “Due to budget cuts we no longer have operator assistance.” I went online, but the system couldn’t find my citation. So now I’m going to have to waddle in there and change the date.

Maybe I can bring Fia to Traffic School. She could climb on the tables and disrupt the class until they kick us out—as long as I still get my points erased. Hell, I could bring Wayne Sanchez too. Not a bad idea…


Stop Sign pic via Shutterstock

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Moving Mid-Pregnancy: I Love Traffic

Wednesday, November 30th, 2011

I Love Traffic

Author’s Note: Join me every Tuesday or Wednesday for “Moving Mid Pregnancy,” to read about my ongoing search for a new “everything” (from nannies to mom friends to health providers) while pregnant and living in a new city.

You hear so much about the traffic issues in LA. Everyone gripes about it. When I was getting ready to move from NYC to here, that was what most people warned me about. Well here’s my dirty little secret: I dig it. Ya know why? Because I love sitting in my car—ALONE–not hearing Elmo. Obviously, I’m talking about the times Fia isn’t with me. I never take her on a long stretch. No way I’m risking a replay of the barfing baby. My time in the car=time to myself. I listen to NPR or Satellite radio. I talk on the phone (on a Bluetooth, never phone to ear).

And the more traffic the better.  It gives me the perfect excuse to be late. “Honey, traffic is terrible,” I’ll say to Phil. It’s always the truth.

I think as a mom you cherish your alone time far more than you ever did. I mean, isn’t a nice, long, hot shower—uninterrupted– a true pleasure now?  Even cooking has become kind of fun. I can listen to a podcast as I chop away.

What gives you guys your dose of serenity? Maybe you do something I need to start indulging in.  Like grocery shopping. I still dread that, but maybe if I look at it as alone time, I’ll have a different perspective. After all, that’s what parenthood does.

Image: Traffic Jam via Shutterstock

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NYC Is Kicking My Mommy Butt

Monday, October 17th, 2011

Strolling Fia and Wayne (in bottom basket) home. A mere 50-pounds in total. Good times.

No doubt about it: working moms have it tough. But I think I have solved the riddle as to why NYC is kicking my SAH-freelance mommy butt.

Now don’t get me wrong: most of my friends are working moms and they have their own unique set of challenges. However, I’ve noticed in telling them we’re moving to LA I get the same confused look. I explain that city living is really hard with a baby. They look a bit puzzled. Here’s why:


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