OK, i have to approach this blog post VERY carefully.
I mean with the utmost caution.
Because if my intent gets misinterpreted, i’m totally fucked.
Here’s what could happen:
1) i could get bucketed as a “mommy blogger.”
2) i could lose all 3 of my male readers.
3) I might unseat Martha Stewart as the most creative woman on the planet (with the best prison hair…oh wait, no, that goes to Lil Kim. But she can rap, so whatever).
4) I’ll never be able to mention scorpion assholes again.
I think i could deal with any of the above, especially the Martha Stewart one (mostly because i think i could take her DOWN), with exception of the first.
Not that i have any disrespect for mom bloggers. none at all. I don’t really read many of them, but i think there is a great community out there of great moms who have fabulous things about which to write.
I don’t want to be in the mommy blog circle because i am really not the kind of mom you might want to idolize. Here are a few reasons why:
1) I have my daughter serve me wine. nightly. she’s 10. sometimes i even pay her to do so (a family tradition, if you will).
2) I let her watch way more TV than the US Department of Family Surgeon General and Taxation Affairs (which, in my opinion, is a HUGE waste of taxpayer dollars) recommends. Seriously, sometimes i just let her go to town with Disney Channel for, like, ohmygod, more than an HOUR.
3) I highly encourage her never to date boys and if she wants to be a lesbian that is just fine with me. Holy crap, can you imagine what the Conservative Pro Marriage Coalition (just made that up, but sure it’s something like that) would DO? They’d have me tarred and feathered or something!
4) I gave her a, gulp, cell phone.
5) I can’t cook to save my life. Tonight, in fact, we are having Hamburger Helper (yes, it’s organic grass fed beef, i’m not a goddamn idiot, geez…).
6) When she complains, i often ask her if she’d like to head on down to Doernbecher’s Hospital and ask a cancer kid how they’re feeling, just to put her shit into perspective, such is my ability to infuse guilt into her conscience.
7) we just had this conversation:
Sav: mom, would you consider going somewhere right now?
Me: no.
Me, again: but tell me anyway, so that even though i am going to say no it at least appears that i am listening.
Sav: Can we go to Target? They have these really cool print out extensions.
Me: No. Would you pour me some more wine?
8. I just told my stepson that we are having “pasta with beef” tonight. I’m not telling him it’s actually Hamburger Helper.
9) i often miss my daughter’s class breakfasts, rarely know when she doesn’t have school (and am therefore caught totally desperate and unprepared), and don’t know half of the names of the kids (or parents) in her class.
I’ll stop at 9. Seems like a random enough number.
But.
I know my daughter as if she is threaded into my skin.
And i am really dedicated, as in psychotically, to documenting, preserving, and celebrating her childhood.
I also hear approximately 50% of the people i know say, “ummm, well, i think i see more of her dad in her,” and the other 50% say, “holy shit, she looks just like you!”
Which is why we did what we did this weekend.
Wanted to pit my “young self” against her “current self” and see what happened.
The by-product of our fun little project?
it will make one hell of a great present for the grandparents. (this is where the Martha Stewart reference comes in, in case you were searching, desperately, for the connection).
However since i know all of my parents read this blog (yep, swear words and all, much to their chagrin), it’s ruined for me.
But i’d LOVE to know if you think this is an awesome idea, or simply complete crap.
It’s nothing you need to spend a ton of time on, and it’s so fun.
Sit with your child. Go through old pictures (i have to do a quick PSA here on my mother, who gave us the greatest gift a couple years ago of completed chronological photo albums of our childhood).
Find ones your kids like (mine, in this case picked out some old modeling photos – i was a poster child for Mervyn’s and JC Penney at one time), and then find ones YOU like (for me, it was my dorkiest moments), and then re-create them.
Here’s what happens:
and my all time, god bless the 80’s style favorite…(seriously, don’t get jealous at the high waisted belted jeans, buttoned collar, and white socks, it just doesn’t behoove you like it did me…)
so there you go.
Christmas for your grandparents. Dammit, should have titled this blog “Christmas for your grandparents.” Unless you are Jewish, in which case, clearly that would not apply. But since i am agnostic, i’m just gonna roll with this as an idea to make your parents swoon. or barf.
Clearly i’m not mom of the year, but i love to write.
And 31 years separates (wait… unites!) every one of these photos.
So thank you for reading, if you’ve made it this far. I don’t know why anyone would have, but in my own opinion, when your child is into dressing up as you when you were young, a picture is, truly, worth a thousand words.
Shit, does this make any sense at all?
Peace (as Lil Kim may have, or may never have, said),
AC.
PS… here are some either blooper or “before being edited” photos… took about 2o0 pics to get the above 6!
throughbrowneyes 
Ok. Number 3. Let’s talk about it. You know me, but I’ll shatter that image and tell you I 100% agree with you 😉
Also, amazing idea on the photo project idea, but damn it! It won’t work with my kids!
Oh, and, I’m glad there’s another mom out there like me.
oh my conservative-with-liberal-underpinnings friend. i adore you!
love it. again. cannot wait for the next. xoxo
Mariana! thank you so much for reading this crap! And i’m so excited you are moving here… we will celebrate it with a TRUE dirty thursday, and then i’ll blog about it (at least the PG-13 version :). xo.
Love your honesty AC. It’s refreshing and natural. I do worry about the ammunition you just gave your co-workers … speaking specifically to the pictures of your younger fashion sense. I will try the parent-child picture comparison. My son is already freaking me out as he looks exactly like me at 2 years of age. Ciao, kgb
Oh how i love your blogs !!! They make me smile , they make me laugh and this one made me cry. Made me wish i had a daughter….
This is an amazing project. It should be a MUST for every mother and daughter.
You rock my friend……xoxo
E
Effing (sorry: I still don’t buy into your ‘foul-mouth-as-personal-expression’ horseshit) hysterical! I’d kind of forgotten about your supermodel period – these bring back memories of all the clipped-out Vogue pages on the insides of your closet doors. (Hey, remember Tim Addington? OMG – found it: http://www.modelscomposites.com/fullsize.php?count=229)
Just to make you feel better (maybe):
* Our boys are both adept at fetching wine and beer, although neither has yet successfully performed the kata to receive his Corkscrew Belt.
* They get way too much ‘screen time’, too. They’d rather be on the ‘net than TV, but not by much. I got worn down by the whining, and ‘reasoning’ they employ – apparently I’m not alone, from the sales quotes on websites for online-time-limiting software, which I just installed (and boy howdy, what a help!)
* What’s a “print out extension” from Targé?
* I also encourage my boys not to date boys. Well, not really – they don’t (at 7 and 5) seem to want to. And if they did (insert obligatory Seinfeld quote here).
* I will be HAPPY to give the boys cell phones. Because they have GPS chips in them, and by then (actually, it’s not only possible now, but I think there are apps coming out) the phones will report their locations, AND their driving habits (how do you think Google Traffic gets real-time traffic conditions?!?!?!…. think about it….) at all times, to me and Val. (This would prevent the “sneak out your window to see Mylo” scenario, but only if you left your phone behind. So I’ll have the boys chipped, too, along with their male-equivalent NorPlant/Implanon implants. Hey – great product idea! >;-)
* Why didn’t you have Sava dressed up in a GunneSax dress with a floral-print puppy? Austin could’ve worn thick dork glasses w/ plaid pants and a sweater-vest?
Finally: the thing nearest to my heart (or, actually, nearby organ): *** I challenge you to cook, for your child(ren) and hubby, one ‘real’ meal per week ***. I’m doing something similar (well, I agreed w/ Val to do so, anyway).
Requirement: all ingredients must be ‘staples’: e.g.: meat from the meat case, veggies from the produce bins, etc. No “heat’n’eat”, “just add chicken”, Stir-and-Serve, sauce or “Flav’r” packets, microwave-anything, etc. You have to actually cook, not fake ‘mommy-sorta-cooked’ marketing bullshit-in-a-bag. You’ve read Fast Food Nation – you know what’s industrial “food” and what’s not. Ask yourself: “What Would Tayta Do?” (Oh, I am SO ev-il.)
It ain’t so hard: here’s tips:
A) Plan which night you’ll do it. Then plan the food. Then plan on when you’ll shop. Sunday evening is a good time for this. Don’t bother if you’re in KL or Burundi that week.
B) Pick something easy. Mark Bittman, NY Times, “The Minimalist” is an excellent spirit-guide for lost souls like you – Googleth Him, I saith unto you, yea, verily. His column yesterday in the NYT Magazine on ‘paillards’ (French for “just pound the shit out of a chicken thigh or boneless porkchop, cook for like 4 minutes with 3-4 ingredients, serve with wine”) was, like, written for, like, you. (I’ll send you (or anyone) the online copy on request.)
Try this: Slice chix thighs & open like paperback; pound crap out out of ’em with (you’ll love this) the bottom of a wine bottle (really!) between 2 sheets SaranWrap; sprinkle with S&P. Drink wine. Heat butter & olive oil in a skillet. Dip chix in flour=>egg=>breadcrumbs; brown/flip/brown => oven @ 200. Butter and olive oil => pan, + wine, lemon juice, and chix stock, sprinkle w/ flour, stir. More wine => you. + 1/4c chopped parsley, stir ’til thickened, pour over chix, *done*.
10 minutes prep, 10 minutes cooking. Serve with jasmine or basmati rice and a simple salad (buy bagged/washed salad kit).
C) DO IT WITH SAVA. It’s bonding, it’s more fun, it’ll keep you from welching, and it’ll help her avoid the McMullen X-Gene Cooking Curse.
Luvya,
AC1
You ROCK!
AC your blog post is hilarious AND we seem to have this idea in common… We did the same with my son because random strangers who clearly played rugby with my husband would walk up to me when he was a baby and declare “that must be Bouch’s son”. Very annoying – but now I have a daughter they say the same about her and me. We actually had my son dressed up in the clothes my husband wore in an old photo which MIL had kept (for such an opportune moment i can only assume). You may also have a stiff competition for ‘parent of the year’ ….my son (8) knows how to prepare a gun and tonic for me and a martini for the husband. Always nice to find a kindred spirit my dear.
Great blog and amazing photos. Sav is the image of you! And don’t ever forget that the pay-for-alcohol tradition started right here.
Love it! Now we should add photos of me at that age and get the three generations. Unfortunately, I don’t have them in all those poses.
Found you through The Diva and LOVE this post! Now had only my mom kepty childhood photos, I’d subject my daughter to a recreation too!! (PS She looks JUST like you!)
We parent similarly. We’re a dying breed, don’t ya know?