Am I Really Begging Hollywood to Show a Real Family Morning?

Who are these people? Are they Dutch?

Sunlight filters in through a window over a kitchen sink. Smiling and well-groomed faces sit around a clean and beautifully laid out breakfast bar. Fresh fruit, a decanter of orange juice, whole grain toast, and cloth napkins adorn the table. A father enjoys his mug of coffee while reading the newspaper. A mother, wearing a pressed shirt and slacks, lip gloss, and neatly combed hair, flips another round of fluffy pancakes onto a plate. As she places the stack onto the table for her bright-eyed children she announces is a cheery voice, “Okay kids, almost time for school. We don’t want to be late.”

This scene makes me wonder: Who the hell are these people?

I have yet to have a morning so awake, so put together, so relaxed. I am pretty sure most parents out there will agree. It is tiresome to watch movies and television shows portray the above ridiculously off the mark family morning. The sun does not shine at 5:45 in the a.m. people. Why pretend that it does? Is it to save on lighting?

In order to be of some service to the motion picture industry, I thought I would depict a more realistic picture of what a school/work day morning looks like:

6:15a.m. – The alarm goes off. I smack it like a dirty fly. Thank God for the snooze button.

6:38a.m. – I jump out of bed. Crap! I snoozed too long. I am probably confused and think it is 11:30 p.m. because it’s still dark outside. What a bullsh*t trick.

6:43a.m. – I wash my face and brush my teeth. I do this with cold water so I wake up. Actually, the hot water has not had time to heat up yet, so I really don’t have a choice. There is absolutely no make-up involved. Nor a brush. I do rustle up an old sweater and throw it on over my pjs.

6:48a.m. – Still dark. I nudge our old dog to go outside and do her business. She looks at me clearly confused by the dark morning. She lies down and falls asleep on the patio. She does not pee.

This lady looks ten times better than me in the morning.

This lady looks ten times better than I do in the morning.

6:49a.m. – I pre-set the coffee maker (thank you Jesus), so I guzzle as much coffee, water, and juice as I can while watching the news. House fire, police chase, rain. Extremely uplifting. I make breakfast and lunch for my child. I drink more coffee. I am now ready to wake the beast.

6:55a.m. – I tip toe into my daughter’s room, turn off the night light, give her a kiss, and say, “It’s time to wake up.” She ignores me. I try again to wake her. Success! She welcomes the day with a, “No! Leave me alone!” I open the binds, which does nothing since it is all black outside. I turn on the bathroom light and try to coax her out of bed with, “It’s library day.” This also does nothing.

7:04 a.m. – A disgruntled seven year old sits at the table in her Hello Kitty pjs. Her hair looks as if she attended a Grateful Dead concert…in a tornado. As she licks the Nutella off her toast she glares at me and lets me know that I have ruined her day because I interrupted her sleep. Awesome. I drink more coffee, fill the dog bowls with food and water, empty the dishwasher, and turn up the volume on the TV to drown out her moaning. Oh good, it’s Matt Lauer on the Today Show. He is talking about a car bombing and a mall shooting. Also, it is still dark outside.

7:22 a.m. – I clean up the kitchen and cattle prod my child into her room to get ready. I go to the bathroom and quickly throw on some clothes. Again, there is absolutely no hair brushing involved.

7:35 a.m. – It is time to leave for school. I find my daughter in her room wearing only a shirt and underpants. Apparently she has been busy reading a book while dressing her pink bear in a purple sundress. I say in a calm voice to my child, “What are you doing? We are going to be late!!!! We are leaving in one minute!” My yelling wakes the neighbor’s dog.

Our dog sleeps peacefully outside. In the dark.

7:42 a.m. – We let in our dog and head out to the car. Dawn has finally broken, so we do not need flashlights to see where we are going.

7:44 a.m. – My husband is still asleep in bed.

The only people I know who have on pressed clothing and make up at that time of day are the working parents and teachers. I’m pretty sure even they would not brush their teeth if they did not have to.

So Dear Hollywood: I am begging you, for once show a frantic parent losing their sh*t in the a.m. because their kids are refusing to put on socks.

I don’t even know what’s happening here. Someone is going to spill that coffee.

I know, it is not as sexy as a fake mom making French toast for her clean kids, but at least it’s real.

All the early morning un-caffeinated parents will thank you.

Am I Really Wondering Why Kelly Ripa Looks Like a Bobble Head Doll?

In the words of Mary J. Blige, “Don’t need no hateration,” and I am not going to give Ms. Ripa any. She seems like a lovely person. I’d like to take her to lunch. But damn, that noggin. And why can’t I get that Fanta jingle out of my head every time I look at her?

This rant is not about her effervescence, but rather the size of women’s heads and other body parts in Hollywood/TV/Movies. In the case of Ms. Ripa, it’s like an orange on a toothpick.* You know what they say, the camera adds ten pounds. Uh, yeah, apparently on their hair.

Now we all know that these Hollywood broads are skinny, it goes with the territory. I am not here to bash on them. It’s their livelihood and in the words of my mother, “It is what it is.” However, if I were to see one of these ladies on the street I would: a) offer them a sandwich, b) call a 1-800 number to sponsor them with food and running water, and c) show them the food pyramid.

It just seems as though they are disproportioned. Take Angelina Jolie for instance. Super skinny. Even when she was pregnant her arms looked like twigs in the middle of winter. But she has those gi-normous lips. How? Kelly Ripa, tiny body. Big head. Kiera Knightly, a lithe girl. Big feet (well actually I have no idea, just a guess).

Here is what I think is happening. Even though a person loses a crap ton of weight, some of it hangs around somewhere. That person still has the same number of fat cells. These cells probably get agitated because there is no room for them in their current location, so they set off to find a new home – hence the big lips, big head, and large index fingers. Now I am not a scientist, or a doctor, or even a hospital orderly, but I read WebMD. Therefore it must be so.

As I write this from the comfort of my home, eating an almond butter and jelly sandwich (so good!), I look pretty proportioned. And guess what, you people probably do too.

So the next time you beat yourself up for having dessert, or not losing those last five pounds for your high school reunion, just remember: those five pounds might end up on your face, maybe even your nose.

Be proud of your even-keeled body. You can always buy lip plumper if you want the Jolie look.

* I would like to thank Mike Myers for this line. It is from the movie “So I Married an Axe Murderer.” Funny stuff, check it out!

Am I Really Practicing my Academy Awards Acceptance Speech in my Dirty Slippers?

I would like to thank the Academy, my parents, and my husband. I would like to thank Cabernet Sauvignon for being there…always. I would like to thank the Girl Scouts of America for producing the Thin Mint Cookie. I would like to thank my daughter for throwing away her granola bar wrapper instead of sticking it under the couch, like she usually does. I would like to thank my yoga pants for not walking out on me because I never actually take yoga. I would like to thank…….

Many of you tuned in this past weekend to watch the 84^th Academy Awards. Many of you could have given a sh*t. I am in the first category.

I loooooooove awards shows. I like the hoopla, the dumb interview questions when clearly the anchor did not see the movie, the ridiculously scripted banter between award givers, the slightly awkward musical numbers, and of course, the star watching. It is all just so exciting to me. I feel as though I am right in the middle of it.

But of course, I am not. I am here, at home, eating a lukewarm calzone and thinking, “When the hell did that movie come out? Did anyone go and see that thing? And why is Angelina standing like that?”

Although, it does make me wonder:

Why am I practicing a speech when clearly I have not been nominated for an Oscar (at least not yet!)? Somehow, I don’t think I am alone here.

People do not get thanked for everyday life events. Kids don’t walk up to parents and say, “Sorry you puked during delivery, but thanks for being a trooper and bringing me into this world. Oh, and P.S. – I hate bananas, but thanks for trying.” I have never heard a husband say, “Hey, thanks for nagging me to put the dishes into the dishwasher instead of just around it. It really does make more sense.” Women never say, “Thanks for repeatedly trying to get into my pants. If it weren’t for you, I’d forget I have a vagina.”

Bosses don’t thank employees for showing up to work. No one is applauding when you get out of bed, exhausted, and make breakfast for an over-exuberant child. Confetti never rains down on me at the grocery store when I remember to use my coupons and save $14.96. When a person finishes their “To Do” list, a rainbow doesn’t magically appear with singing munchkins as a reward. And when you sort and properly bundle recycle items, the garbage dudes never break out into a jazz routine just to say thanks.

So why do these Hollywood people get all the praise? Why don’t we have any everyday person awards ceremony? We’re here, everyday, making it happen; whether we like it or not.

One reason: lack of reality. These wonderful movie makers provide us everyday folk with entertainment. They take us away, far, far away from our everyday lives. They transport us to another land, another time, another reality. Movies are magic. They make us laugh, they make us angry, and they make us wipe our noses on our sleeves when we forget tissues while watching Marley and Me.

During depressing times, movies help distraught people deal with the harsh pain of poverty, loss, and feelings of being alone. Deployed soldiers watch them. Kids watch them. People who don’t even like movies watch them. They help people forget. They help people remember. And you know what? We (and by “we” I mean the Academy) want to thank the movie makers for this gift.

So good for you film people of the world! Be proud, polish off your golden little man and give yourself a pat on the back.

The rest of us will be awaiting our award for unclogging the sink.