All posts by Emily

ALERT!!!

Our annual 2-week Outer Banks vacation (the one Eric and I missed last year due to the minor inconvenience of birthing a human) begins tomorrow, and so on Thursday, out of NOWHERE, Mom decided to inform us of a new vacation policy, which I think we can all agree was definitely deserving of the eye-catching, panic-inducing headline below.

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Ok.

Cool idea– I mean, we’re all down for reducing waste and making Mom feel better about her trip to Cambodia.

But unfortunately, Zack took a different approach to the huge grocery shop we do once we get down there, and decided to think ahead this year:

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Bummer. (Also hilarious).

But Mom, steadfast in her desire to save the planet one luxury beach vacation at a time, did not let this hiccup deter her.

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Zack, who spent his childhood tending to a trunk full of worm composting in our basement, was in no mood for a lecture.

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Regardless, he was down.

But he also wanted to be realistic about the fact that our desire to go green might directly conflict with our desire to not gag on what is essentially tepid toilet water.

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Mom would not be deterred.

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We thought the issue had been put to rest, but then Jeremy chimed in with his thoughts. And by “chimed” I mean he went on a Ranty McRant diatribe that he might as well submit for his PhD thesis. Pretty sure he wore a monocle while typing it.

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Yeah, I know.

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Dad then expressed exactly how he felt about the entire situation and basically let us know that we can all go fuck ourselves:

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Ok….

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Eons later, when we had all completely moved on with our lives, Steph found time to respond.

Her only concern was that her nanny be provided with her own tumbler.

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But what was super exciting about Steph’s response was that, for the first time in her life, she had used an exclamation point.

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Sadly, as you can see, it was a mistake. But least now we can rest assured that she knows where the ! key is located, should there ever be an emotive emergency.

Dad then took Steph’s query as an opportunity to remind us again how cool he is, in case we forgot:

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Ok, Dad. We get it.

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Mom remained undeterred. Hell or high (tap) water, this woman was getting us green.

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So there you have it.

Meanwhile, on the sibling text chain:

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She Knows Exactly What She’s Doing

Nora, every second I’m alone with her:

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Nora, every time I just want silence:

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Nora, the second someone asks me if she’s talking yet and I say “Yes! She babbles all day and says a bunch of real words! Nora, show them how much you talk!”:

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“Come on Nora, you talk to Mom all day at home! You never stop! Show them how you say “hi!” or “bye!” or “cheese!””

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“Ok Nora, please say something, because now you’re just making Mom look like an asshole.”

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Only The Freshest

I met another new mom in the building.

Her: “Where’s Nora’s favorite food from?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Her: “Like we order from Little Spoon, fresh delivery of organic foods. Or sometimes [my kid] likes the finger foods from Yumi, they’re also organic and they do all these different boxes of mixed foods, they’re great.”

Me: “Oh…”

Her: “So where does Nora like food from?”

The floor.

She likes to eat food that she finds on the floor.

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Well Duck Me

Last year, I changed an autocorrect setting on my iPhone because every time I tried to write “fuck” or “fucking” (often and always), the phone changed it to “duck” or “ducking.” Since I’ve used the words “duck” and “ducking” in conversation all of NEVER times, I decided to change the setting so that instead it autocorrects “duck” to “fuck,” because fuck is clearly the word I want.

Until this ONE TIME.

Yesterday there was a family email chain discussing meal options for our upcoming Outer Banks vacation.

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So….you probably realize what’s about to happen. What you don’t realize is exactly HOW MUCH god hates me:

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Yup.

It’s the emoji that really makes me want to head down to city hall and register for a new family. I clearly don’t deserve to be in this one.

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Moments later my Dad replied with this:

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I can only assume that’s because he read my words and had a stroke.

My brothers were equally distraught.

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Anyway, let this be a lesson.

I don’t know what that lesson is.

I just need this to not have happened in vain.

Um Yes, I Have a Question

Nora had a second surgery on Monday to remove a cyst that had developed on one of the suture sites, and to remove one of the four silicone slings holding her eyelids up.

Surgeon (right before surgery): “[lengthy explanation of everything he will do, process and risks of anesthesia, post-op care, etc ]….and that’s it. It should be a quick surgery, about 20 minutes. Do you have any questions before we take her into the operating room?”

Me: “Only 20 minutes? So I won’t have time to get an ice cream downstairs?”

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I had time.

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Your Business

I go to pick up a couple medications at CVS, and a male pharmacist is ringing me up…

Pharmacist (to Nora): “Hi cutie!” (then, to me) “Are you breastfeeding?”

Me (taken aback): “Excuse me? Um, NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS?!?”

Pharmacist: “Oh, I….”

Me: “JESUS. Why do men– or anyone for that matter– think it’s ok to ask a woman that? I really don’t understand. It’s completely inappropriate. Honestly, shame on you. And I say that on behalf of all women.”

Pharmacist: “I’m required by law to ask you that before handing you this medication.”

Me: “Oh.”

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(10 second awkward silence)

Me: “Please still give me the drugs.”