You Were a Weird Child of the 80's When...

Spoiler Alert: I'm the weird child

Me at my brother's Bar Mitzvah

Me at my brother's Bar Mitzvah

You considered Pee-wee Herman a teen heartthrob. 

You sent ALF fan mail.

You thought everyone else had a foil ball collection just like Pee-wee Herman...and you.

Your game of house got really heated when you found out your best friend's pretend dad worked for Crest and yours worked for Colgate.

Your game of house got really heated when you found out your best friend's pretend boyfriend was Pee-wee Herman, when he was already your pretend husband.

The outfit you wore for our brother's bar mitzvah was Pee-wee chique.

You wrote a list about being a weird child of the 80s and most of it was about Pee-wee Herman.

 

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Mom Cam in the Minivan

There was once a time when I live-streamed a series called Mom Cam in the Minivan. In its glory day, I had 5 viewers simultaneously. Okay, maybe it was more like 4. And one was my husband, who watched only because he feared for my life. Everything turned out okay. I kept my hands on '10' and '2' and most importantly ensured the light reflecting from the sun visor was flattering.

As the live stream episodes are feathers to the wind, I decided to start recording them. Welcome to Season 2 of Mom Cam in the Minivan. This time it has some permanence to it, because ya know... YouTube. Enjoy Episode 14, just don't ask about the other thirteen.

How Being a Parent is Like Being in Prison

Due to mass consumption of specific genres of television, I'm an expert in several fields.

I'd make an excellent attorney. Thank you Law & Order.

I can solve what ails you. Thank you House.

And I can soothe you to sleep with a very relaxing and monotone voice. Thank you The Newshour with Jim Lehrer.

Even though I've never been in prison, I'm pretty sure I know what it's like to be a prisoner because of bulk watching Orange is the New Black. And given that I have three children, I'm convinced my household is a prequel to an actual real life experience of being behind bars. If you encounter these elements of parenting, you may also know the feeling of how sometimes parenting is like being in prison. 

The Riots

They break loose at any given moment and usually involve makeshift weapons.

The Meals

I find myself protecting my plate during dinner time. If not, little hands grab what they can until I have nothing left to eat.

The Privacy

It feels like I'm constantly being watched... while I shower, when I pee, and I've definitely woken up with someone staring at me at the edge of the bed.

The Threats

From subtle to obvious, I've heard everything from "I'm going to kill you," "I'll lick you while you sleep," to the most threatening of all, "when you're dead, I get your money and jewelry."

But hey y'all, you've got to look at the bright side of parenting. It's also like having Stockholm Syndrome. No matter what, we love our little captors, even when we get shanked by a Lego.

Trolling for Attention

My husband tries to get in the Zone 1 boarding line at the airport, when our tickets clearly indicate we're Zone 4.  This is what embarrasses me: breaking rules.  But there are other things that don't embarrass me that, perhaps, should. Like what I'm about to tell you.

I'm an internet troll.

But instead of interrupting usual conversations, I troll my Facebook Messenger's "Other" Folder. Do you spot it down below to the right of the Inbox? Most people don't know about the "Other" Folder (or ignore it).  

It's where messages go from people you're not Facebook Friends with. It's where Spam goes to die.  It's also where I go to learn about banks in foreign countries that want to give me money, how cheap I can get Viagra and that I am, perhaps, too good at taking selfies for my Facebook Profile Pics. The fodder I find is not in the one-way messages of strangers, but rather in the conversations that ensue when I actually respond.  I don't respond to all messages, but when I do it goes something like this:




Shirts Happen

I was taught at a young age that if I could schlep it, then I could bring it. Instead of seeing this as a need to simplify, I saw this a challenge to carry as much crap as humanely possible.  So prior to a recent trip to Israel for my nephews' Bar Mitzvahs, I began to think: If ants can carry 5,000 times their body weight, why can't this aunt?  

I managed to pack 75% of my closet allowing myself three clothing options a day plus alternates pending on what my fleeting fashion feelings might be.  Day to day, my attire ranged from sensible to nonsensical.  I was happy knowing that if the mood struck, I had an extra miniskirt at the ready.  

However, it was the day we were at Jerusalem's Biblical Zoo, when I realized I was the visiting attraction.  A local approached me saying, "You must be here on holiday. You dress too funny for an Israeli."  My response: "I dress too funny for an American."   I know this already. My style is what I call don't fret-a-porter. I'm okay with that and the 'looks' I often get.

But as I continued our trip, I began to notice something even more ridiculous than my outfits and it wasn't the massive numbers of souvenir shops. It was the t-shirts in those stores. Half of which I briefly owned as a teenager until my mother "mistakenly" washed all of them with a red shirt before I started my high school senior year.  What a blessing.  

I have mental pictures in my head of what that last year in high school would have been like, if the Washing Machine Incident of 1994 never happened. And fortunately, for you I have actual pictures of these shirts of Teen Tour Past.  Here are some of the best of's for your viewing pleasure. Which one is your favorite? Did you own any of these gems?


It's about Time

Living life without regrets is often my motivation. Because of this I've taken actions that may be deemed unthinkable to most: Telling college crushes I liked them, starting a new career as a comedian and eating questionable grocery store sushi.  Not all these situations have boded well, but I'm happy that at least I know the outcome and that none have resulted in downing Pepto.  

However there are times I want to go back in time: To hold my kids again as babies, visit with relatives who've since passed and perhaps buy stock in Facebook.  Though time travel is an impossibility, I like to prepare my readers for the unforeseeable [like putting together a Weber Grill solamente], so I've created a Time Machine Guide.  It's more CraigsList Classifieds than Kelly Blue Book, as they may be defective or likely to kill you. Either way, there's no time like the present to pick your mode of time travel!

Mall of Amanda's Time Machine Guide

The Phone Booth (Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventures)

Pros: This time machine may come with Keanu Reeves.
Cons: This time machine may come with Keanu Reeves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Hot Tub (The Hot Tub Time Machine)

Pros: It's a hot tub... a hot tub TIME MACHINE, y'all!
Cons: Not safe for time travel if you're pregnant

 

 

 

 

The DeLorean (Back to the Future -- all parts)

Pros: The Mr. Fusion model runs on garbage so you can impress neighbors with your eco-friendly car choice. It's like the Tesla of time travel.

Cons: Does not come with its own Uber Driver. 

 

 

 

The Time Machine Modulus (Napoleon Dynamite)

Pros: Comes fully-loaded with tots, Gosh!
Cons: Doesn't freakin' work.

Chef Boyardon't: A Recipe for Disaster

I'm a little less Nigella Lawson and a little more Nigella Lawless in the kitchen..  It's not that I don't know how to cook, it's just that I like to do things my way. If a recipe asks me to peel a tomato or requires reading for more than a page, then it's not for me. I like to keep things simple and by simple I mean I totally use boxed cake mixes. But even if I'm following a simple recipe somethings gonna happen. So I've compiled a list of 'somethings that happened' so they don't have to happen to you.  Consider this blog your list of Chef Boyardon'ts. 

A Recipe for Disaster

  • Preheat the over to 350 but forget to check that you were storing Tupperware in it
  • Use cake flour that expired in 2007
  • Realize you weren't supposed to use cake flour but self-rising flour
  • Think you're using a one-cup measuring cup, when it actually holds two
  • Mix all ingredients you do have and put in an ungreased loaf pan that is supposed to be greased 
  • Look in microwave and find the melted butter you were supposed to include
  • Wait until the end to read the recipe in its entirety only to realize you're out of baking powder
  • Put in the oven to Bake for 65 minutes and get an alert you have to be at the dentist in 15 minutes