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Poison Your Face To Celebrate!

8 Mar

The very first email I received today was from a well known Beverly Hills plastic surgery center down the street from me. They were offering me a 20% discount on Botox if I came in today. Why today? Because today is International Women’s Day. What better way to commemorate that then with a shot of poison in my face to make me look younger so that men find me more attractive. My gut reaction was to email them back with a raging rant about how it’s people like them that still make it so very necessary to even have an International Women’s Day. Yes, women have come a long long way. But, we are not nearly there yet.

I could probably write a dissertation on this topic, but I will start with the media for today…

Let’s take a look at the media attacks on girls and women. Starting as early as a girl is young enough to see, she is bombarded with images of “ugly” before pictures and “beautiful” after pictures on newsstands. She can tell by looks on the women’s faces on the magazines and billboards that they were miserable before they got fixed. They look so much happier after the boob job, lap band, liposuction, face lift, weight loss, and makeover. Before a female child can even read she is being brainwashed to see that prettier means happier. Of course, the male children are seeing all of this as well, and they are being taught the same message. That women are supposed to look a certain way and they should want to look that way. The thing is, this entire system is built to break girls down and make them beauty consumers before they are even old enough to realize it’s happened. By the time a girl gets to high school and is taught about feminism and or meets the cool aunt who tells her it’s okay to be smart and not pretty, it’s too late. The programming has been done already. 

What bothers me the most about the email offering the Botox his morning? Is probably the fact that I considered taking the offer. Despite my strong feminist views and all the deprogramming I have done over the past few years, I am still that girl. I still want to be thin, pretty and young. Part of me still believes the years and years of bullshit I’ve been fed. Old habits die hard. 

Today, on International Women’s Day, I will not put poison in my face to commemorate the day. Instead, I am writing this blog post. 



Denial and Avoidance, Works For Me!

23 May

I think surviving Motherhood takes a certain amount of denial and avoidance. Last night was a prime example of how I deny and avoid when it comes to my children. My friend M.O. was over visiting the kids and I when she looked at TR’s foot and said, “What is up with the bottom T’s foot?” I looked at her foot and lo and behold she had what appeared to be multiple thorns and or splinters of some kind in her tiny little mini foot. What was my reaction? Did I say let’s get her to a Doctor immediately, let’s call my husband for back-up, let’s help this poor child?! My first reaction was, “She’ll be fine I’m sure it’s just another ouchie, ok, bath time!” My friend M.O. who doesn’t have any children of her own yet had to look me in the eyes and give me a What The F—  look and straight up said to me, “Your two year old has a foreign object in her skin it’s going to get infected if you don’t do something right now.” Yup, another mother of the year moment for Leslie. All I was thinking was these kids need to finish dinner, get a bath, get in their pajamas, drink their milk, brush their teeth, read stories, and be put down. I didn’t have time tonight for a strange object lodged in my baby’s foot that could become a festering wound.

Within 20 minutes M.O.’s Dad, the Mitzvah Man himself, Dr. Orwasher, a well known Beverly Hills Podiatrist, was knocking at my front door to inspect TR’s foot. My girl promptly sat down right in front of Dr. Orwasher before he could even make it all the way in the front door, ripped off her socks and said to him, OUCHIE. After a quick exam in my playroom it was confirmed that we had to head into the office so Dr. O could remove whatever was in T.R’s foot. At this point I had a flashback of  the day before- I saw her coming from the backyard barefoot, where we have thorns, wood chips and other dreadful things which coincidentally is all being removed this week. I immediately put her shoes back on when I saw her bare feet, but I didn’t check to see if her feet were okay. So here we were at 7pm sitting in Dr.O’s office distracting TR with my IPhone while the Doc worked his magic with a smile on his face and the patience of a Saint. She didn’t cry, not even a peep, all she said after 20 minutes of sitting nicely while having needles poked into her foot was, “All done Missa’s Daddy?”

If left up to me, she would have been sleeping in her crib with thorns in her feet and probably limping before I noticed anything was remotely wrong. Denial and avoidance, it gets me through because some of this parenting stuff is just way too scary to face head on.


Should my Mother of The Year Award be revoked? I dare you to comment and say yes…


What the hell is a virus anyways?!

9 May

If I were my child’s Pediatrician I would be wondering why I went to medical school. I would be thinking that I should have skipped the gazillion years of studying, tests and residency and gone to hand-holding school instead. Maybe when you become a Pediatrician they warn you that 75 percent of the kids you are going to see are just fine… the Mothers, not so much.

I am madly in love – no exaggeration – with all the doctors at the practice where my kids go. Not because they have diagnosed mysterious illnesses or comforted my child when I couldn’t. I have a crush on my Pediatrician and her colleagues because of the way they handle me. I just took J.H. in for his second sick exam in two weeks and once again there is nothing officially wrong with him. I can’t tell you how many times I have done this with each of my three children. I spoke to the Doctor on the phone last night and she assured me that his fever is part of a fever virus that is sweeping through the children of Beverly Hills. She told me to wait 48 hours and see how he feels then.

Instead of following directions, there I was this morning back on the “sick” side of the practice praying J.H. wouldn’t pick up any new illnesses while waiting there. Yet again, I was assured by the ever patient saint of a doctor that my son would be fine, he just had a virus. She patted me on the back and gave me a compassionate smile. She could have just as easily said, “Lady, I told you on the phone last night he has a virus, what part of V-I-R-U-S didn’t you understand?” I know I’m not the only one because I’m having the same discussion with my friends over and over again. Should we take the kid in? Wait it out? What the hell is a virus anyways?!

It’s the constant debate in my head and it goes a little something like this: child is not pulling ears or vomiting. That one time it was the ears and he/she never touched the ears at all. Although child didn’t eat like he/she usually does. He/she did have a fever for half a minute 48 hours ago, could be the ears. It’s not the ears they were just checked last week. I’m sure it’s a virus. I’ll wait another day and then take the child in. What if by then it’s life threatening and we end up in the E.R?  Maybe he/she is teething/molars/allergies/lice/exotic disease from cousin who went to Peru. We better go to the doctor just to make sure.

We got a bill from the Pediatrician’s office last year for the new $150 yearly convenience fee that the practice will be charging per child. I totally get it now. It’s not a convenience fee, it’s a hand-holding fee. It’s a “I went to medical school to assure Westside Moms that their coughing children aren’t dying” fee.

I’ll happily pay it, because they are nice to me. They reassure me and they never laugh at me when I call yet again with a teething child that “must be examined immediately!”


Cough, cough, panic


Do you ever have the “to take them in or wait it out” debate with yourself?

What do you mean we don’t get the pink stuff?!

25 Apr

After handing him the fifth unacceptable sippy cup of the morning, I decided that something must be physically wrong with my 2 year old son JH. The tantrums and endless grunting demands have become painful for me. I’m assuming they have become equally daunting for my neighbors and fellow park-goers. Something must really be bothering him to cause him to act like the exorcist. I decided it must be the ears. The twins are prone to ear infections, so even though he showed no signs of ear pulling or a snotty nose, he MUST have an ear infection. A super bad double one. We showed up at our appointment and we weren’t seeing our usual doctor, we had another doctor in the practice who is the mother of toddler twins. The second she walked into the room it was as if total clarity overcame me. I knew what was about to happen.

“So, the nurse told me he has no physical symptoms, is that right?” I nodded. “You brought him in for tantrums and refusing to sleep, is that right?” I nodded. I decided to just lay it all out there: “I need you to find something physically wrong with him that is treatable with medication. I cannot take another year of this.” We smiled at each other as only mothers of 2 year olds do. She checked the first ear… All clear. I assured her that it would be the next ear that was horribly infected… All clear. Check his teeth, it might be his molars, YES, check his teeth. Nothing. She felt his tummy, listened to his lungs and checked all his extremities. “What you have here is a perfectly healthy 2 year old.” She smirked. “Check him again.” I begged.

It’s official, we have entered the Terrible Twos! I even have a Doctor’s bill to prove it. In the elevator on the way down he threw himself on the ground because I wouldn’t let him hit the alarm button. I explained to everyone in the elevator that we had just come from the Doctor’s office, terrible ear infection.


Let me know I’m not alone!

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