Mommy Ever After » Sesame Street

“I may not know how to walk, but I RUN this house.”

mommyeverafter — Wed, 03 Dec 2014 17:49:02 +0000

I am constantly bemoaning the fact that I can’t get my son to watch any TV. He refuses.

I am not looking for him to be television obsessed, but it would be nice if he could sit for 15 minutes and watch Elmo.

At this age, my daughter would have spent 3 hours watching DJ Lance if I would have let her.

But my son? Not at all.

The only thing he will sit for, up until this point, has been the three minute music video for “All About That Bass”.

I have tried Baby Einstein, Sesame Street, Cartoons, Live Action…and, inevitably, he sits for a minute and then wriggles off of my lap and eats a candle or something.

UNTIL this morning! This morning, as we played with one of his music toys, I had last night’s Real Housewives of Beverly Hills episode on the living room TV, and all of a sudden, he was mesmerized. During the scene when Portia went shopping he even got on his stomach and propped his face up onto his elbows, as he watched the little girl on the screen.

So there you have it. I had been trying desperately for Elmo,

when all I really needed

was Bravo.

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Is it just me,

mommyeverafter — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 15:48:18 +0000

or did Jake Gyllenhal just get 18 times hotter with his appearance on Shalom Sesame’s “It’s Passover, Grover!”

Come on! The dimples! The Afikomen sticking out of his breast pocket!
Who’s with me?!
I thought so.

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Um, excuse me, but…

mommyeverafter — Fri, 06 Jan 2012 21:18:16 +0000

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One of these things is not like the other,

mommyeverafter — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 02:30:54 +0000

one of these things just doesn’t belong.

Ahhhhh, motherhood.
(And p.s. is this DVR not an embarrassment of riches? Now, if only I had the time to watch all of my Bravo….again I say, ahhhhh motherhood.)

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Putting on the finishing touches…

mommyeverafter — Tue, 01 Nov 2011 01:08:44 +0000

So…
did you guess right?
More to come.
In the meantime,
can you tell me how to get….

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“Oh, what is the letter we love?”

mommyeverafter — Sun, 14 Nov 2010 19:00:45 +0000

See this guy right up there? That would be my daughter’s main squeeze.
Apparently, he’s also known as Elmo.
Apparently, he’s kind of cute.
Apparently, we have a long history, as I had an original Tickle Me Elmo doll;
you know, the one that people camped out at Toys R Us to buy, in the days before Ebay and Amazon, and caused quite the sensation? Yeah, I needed to have a personal security escort when I brought him to my school’s pajama day. But, that is neither here nor there.
My baby loves her some Elmo.
She loves to play with her Elmo phone.
She loves to hear Elmo sing his song and dance with his quacking ducks.
She loves when I impersonate him and when we make her Elmo toy pop up and shout.
Apparently, babies go crazy for Elmo.

So, I was happy to see my husband put on Sesame Street the other day, as he watched her from afar (he was sick, remember?)
as I made, yet another, huge pot of soup.
I grew up on Sesame Street. In fact, I just called my parents to ask them a Sesame-related-question, and they both broke out into the “National Association of W Lovers” song, still remembering every word by heart. My sister and I spent our early childhoods Following That Bird, singing “Who are the People in your Neighborhood” and having Cookie Monster serenade us from his perch on a crescent moon. My dad and sister spent every single night listening to the Sesame Street lullaby tape, as they sang along, in Yiddish, as she fell asleep.
And so, it really thrills me that my daughter seems to love the Sesame characters as I did. As much as I do.
I felt very content as I chopped up some turnips to the sound of Prairie Dawn’s high voice in the other room, when I heard my husband shout, “Oh my goodness!”
Now, I’m sure you can imagine what my first thought was:
What’s wrong? What happened? Is the baby OK? Did you infect her with your snottyness?
My husband came charging into the kitchen, with a giant smile on his face, as he spoke about 3 times faster than usual.
“We’re watching Sesame Street and the letter of the day is K I was like ‘Oh my goodness, do you know that your daddy’s name begins with the letter K?’ and then I realized; the baby doesn’t know my first name!!!! Can you believe it?? She doesn’t even know my first name!!!!!”
I couldn’t help but to lose it, in that moment,
doubling over in laughter,
as my soup bubbled in the pot next to me.
C is for cookie
C is for cuteness
K is for my husband, who, sometimes, reminds me of just how cute he really is.
I know.
That was bad.
But, I had to.
And if anyone asks,
the big yellow bird made me do it.

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wordless weekdays

mommyeverafter — Sat, 16 Oct 2010 12:44:38 +0000

Hi!
Remember me?
It’s been awhile,
hasn’t it?
Aw, thanks,
I’ve missed you, too!
You see, this week I was feeling a bit under the weather,
and, apparently, so has WordPress.
It isn’t that I haven’t had a lot to say, I just haven’t had a way to say it.
Like, on Wednesday–
It was to be a Wordless Wednesday,
for this picture says it all.

Because on Wednesday it got really cold, and reminded me of last winter,
which reminded me of said photo, and furry sweaters
on furry dogs.
On Thursday, I was going to write about my sore throat, and how it’s no longer easy to take it easy when you’re a mommy.
My husband did manage to help, though.
He went to the grocery store and got me an assortment of soups. He handed me this

Before presenting me with it, he said, “I got you something I think you’ll like because of the extremely high sodium content.”
I’m not kidding.
He said that.
He was right.
On Friday, I was going to write about Shabbat.
And Sesame Street.
The letter of the day on Friday was the letter S.
As the sun set and the Sabbath started, baby and I watched Sesame Street, while waiting for daddy to come home.
It was Salsa day for Elmo, and squash night for baby. She ate her squash, as I tried to coax a smile by salsa dancing around the slippery floor in my socks, sliding as I shimmied across baby’s line of sight. Daddy couldn’t get home soon enough for either of us.
Oh, I know what you’re thinking.
S is also for sleep. So funny, they had an S day with Salsa dancing, and an S night with so much sleep.
And I would say, you would be wrong.
Sweet sleep eluded us last night, as the baby fussed and tossed and cried and complained.
It was just Splendid. Stupendous, in fact.
Spectacular.
And now, I’m Sleepy.
Very, very sleepy.
So sleepy.
So
it’s time for me to leave you,
but, hopefully not for too long, this time.
Just for a bit, so I can catch a few more zzzzzzs….
or, at the very least, a couple ssssssssssssss.

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