New Jersey Moms Blog

Teresa Giudice's Extravagant Spending Leads to Bankruptcy

Does it make me a bad person that I'm happy to hear that The Real Housewives of New Jersey super-spender, Teresa Giudice, has to sell her tacky mansion due to bankruptcy?  BTW, if you're in the market and have $4 million to spare, check out the listing for this "incredible custom home with extensive marble, granite and custom wood floors throughout."  Still not sold?  It's set on 3 1/2 acres of wooded property with 2 ponds where "privacy and tranquility reigns." 

Worried that you can't afford the hefty price tag?  No problem!  Neither could Teresa and her husband Joe, but that certainly didn't stop them from building the monstrosity.  You see, the Giudice's owe more than $11 million to their creditors according to their bankruptcy filing, and now it's time for the extravagant couple to make some changes.  I bet you could negotiate the price down to $3.5 million.  Maybe they'll even throw in the Escalade because they can't afford the $1,300 monthly payments on that either.  It's a buyer's market, you know!  All offers considered!

Reflections on the first year

  My little guy turned one last week and I don't like it one bit.  I did everything I could to delay the process, but apparently humans don't have the ability to stop time, so I'm pretty much S.O.L.  In an effort to rebel against the dreaded first birthday I dressed him up in a silly paper hat and forced him to eat his first cupcake without a napkin in sight.  I even video taped the event so I can use it against him later in life.  Then I gave him a second cupcake and kept the camera rolling.  Yeah, that's right.  I'm hard core.  But he was asking for it all year!

I mean, this kid has some nerve.  Think about it.  We spend the first 12 weeks of his life snuggling and a few short months later he's all like,

"Um, I'm crawling now mom.  I've got places to go, fuzz to eat off the carpet and cabinets to open.  Maybe we'll catch a snuggle later.  Maybe not.  Because I'd rather hang out with my big brothers who make farty noises on my tummy.  Those guys are great!"

The girls are back in town

Oh. My. Gawd.  It's been nearly a year since the season finale of the Real Housewives of New Jersey and I couldn't be more thrilled that the ladies are back for season two.   

For those of you who missed it, here's a recap.  Jacqueline's heartbreaking battle with infertility ended joyfully with the birth of her baby boy, Nicholas.  Her daughter Ashley graduated from high school and moved out of the house, announcing that she wants to "take time off" (from what I'm not sure) while her parents pay her bills.  Note to my kids:  Fuhgettaboutit!

My favorite housewife among the bunch, Caroline, continues to be the rock of the crazy brood.  She welled up with tears as a slimmed down Albert Sr., who lost 70 lbs. after a health scare, dropped $9,000 on a new suit at Barney's. 

Dina wasn't prominently featured in the first episode.  However, the hairless Grandma Wrinkles and the uber-groomed Ladybug got more than enough screen time for my liking.  Those animals are creepy!   

Today's the day to vote on the school budget

At the risk of becoming that mom blogger who rants and raves about politics and education, this will be my last post about New Jersey's budget crisis (for this month, at least).  I'm looking forward to returning to my roots and sharing silly stories about my three sons.  Like how funny it was when my older boys overheard me telling my husband that the baby is weaning, and they laughed uncontrollably when they thought I said "the baby's a wienie."  Or how I'd completely forgotten about the upheaval my home must undergo when my little one became mobile (which happened this week--yikes).  Or how my crazy mommy instinct jumped into action and I rushed the soccer field when my oldest son was playing goalie and got kicked in the face (which was frowned upon by the ref--who knew?). 

But for today all I can think about is the dire need for all parents in New Jersey to get out and vote in their school election.  Democrats, Republicans, NJEA supporters, and teacher-bashers alike have been sounding off in the media, online, and on playgrounds across the state.  Today is the day to stop talking and start voting. Last year the school budget in my town passed by two votes.  Two.  Votes.  And I didn't make it to the polls because I didn't think my vote would matter.  However, if the budget didn't pass, my son's teacher wouldn't have been hired and his classroom would've been packed with kids.  But it did pass, and as a result there were four kindergartens instead of three, with 18 kids in each class instead of 25.  I won't be making that mistake again.  As cliche as it sounds, your vote matters.  I learned the hard way.

Wake Up New Jersey Moms, The Sky is Falling

This post probably isn't going to win me any bloggy friends, but as I sit here patiently waiting for Governor Christie to return my gracious invitation to discuss the dire school budget situation over chili dogs at Hot Grill, I'm shocked and disappointed that more New Jersey Mom bloggers aren't sounding off about the turmoil our state's education system is undergoing.  Instead we're spending our time blogging about shopping and bathroom habits while our governor wages war against the state's public school system and our children are caught in the crossfire. 

Now don't get me wrong, I love reading the posts written by my incredibly talented peers.  I'm honored to be listed among an amazing group of women who are willing to share their parenting struggles and triumphs with such great emotion and eloquence.  However, lately I can't help but think we're missing a tremendous opportunity to have our collective voices heard and maybe even influence change that will directly impact our children's lives. 

An Open Letter to Governor Christie

Dear Governor Christie,

Let me start off my introducing myself.  I'm a lifetime New Jersey resident and full time working mom of three wonderful little boys.  My husband and I work very hard so we can live in a nice town with a great school district, which makes our hefty property tax bill a little easier to swallow.  I'm not a political person but I know that New Jersey's financial situation is dire.  I also understand that drastic measures need to be taken if the state is ever going to fix the budget, but is cutting $820 million in state aid to schools really the answer?

I'm sure you know that parents across the state are panicking.  I'm panicking.  My friends who are teachers are panicking.  There's news of massive layoffs, packed classrooms and little to no extracurricular activities for the kids.   Now don't get me wrong, I'm all about your line that "difficult times call for shared sacrifice," but New Jersey's kids didn't get the state into this mess, yet it looks like they're the ones who are getting hit the hardest. 

Looking for a new speech writer, Tiger Woods? I've got your man!

Mornings are pretty stressful around our house.  With two working parents and three kids under age six who need to get fed, dressed, and sent off to school/daycare with everything they need for the day, the family has to run like a well-oiled machine.  We have no choice in the matter.  However, every once in a while something occurs outside the norm and throws the whole morning off.  Today was one of those days, but it's one I'll never forget.

While I was upstairs nursing the baby, I heard a fight break out between my two older boys.  Apparently someone broke someone else's Lego Star Wars guy, which led to a poke and a smack.  The next thing I know my husband is comforting my middle son who is crying because his big brother hit him.  While my kids certainly aren't angels, they're generally respectful of each other so hitting isn't a regular occurrence.  Usually the best of buddies, when something does go wrong feelings are hurt and tears are shed. 

Avoiding the personal pity party

Being a parent is hard work.  Ok, let's be frank, parenthood is a legal form of indentured servitude.  Our kids expect the world from us and if you're doing your job right, you do everything in your power to give it to them.  Need a refill on that glass of juice even though I just sat down to eat dinner?  No problem!  About to blow a gasket because you can't find your Star Wars action figure that you absolutely must bring in for show and tell?  I'm on the case!  Decide you want to nurse 10 minutes after I finally fall asleep?  Sure thing!  And then again an hour before I need to get up for the day?  You got it!  It's my job and I love doing it. 

Most of the time.

But then there are the other times.  You know, the not so great times when you think back to what you were doing 10 years ago and it involved taking a nap at 7 p.m. so you wouldn't be too tired to hit the diner after the bars closed--but now you're scrambling around the house sniffing the furniture in search of the source of the sour spit up odor only to discover that the barf is in your hair.  We've all been there.  I call it my personal pity party.  P squared for short.  I'm not even sure if that's mathematically correct, but I don't care because it sounds good.  It's those times when you wish you could just come home from work, put on your jammies, make yourself something to eat, and curl up on the couch to watch some TV before heading up to bed for 8 hours of glorious, uninterrupted sleep.  But you can't because dinner need to be made, dishes need to be done, homework needs to be completed, baths need to be taken, bedtimes stories need to be read, lunches need to be packed and laundry needs to be folded.

Thursday Nights Will Never Be the Same

I've started writing this post at least a dozen times in my head, each time with a different topic in mind.  First I thought I'd recap the past 10 days of my life, when the stomach bug that's been working its way through New Jersey picked off everyone in my family, but there's only so much one can say about projectile vomit and poop explosions before losing readers. 

Then I considered complaining about the fact that my eight-month-old son still nurses like he's a newborn at night and how I know exactly what I need to do to get him to stop, but I'll never do it because of the tremendous guilt I feel over being away from him while I'm at work all day, so there's no sense in going down that road.  

Next I started drafting a list of all the things I'd give up if I could just take one night off from being a milk dispenser and wake up fully rested after eight uninterrupted hours of sleep, preferably in a hotel that would deliver my breakfast in the morning.  However, once clean air and electricity made the list (but not my new Weezer CD) I realized that the sleep deprivation might be affecting my logic. 

This Just In: I've Let Myself Go

I'm not sure exactly how it happened, but at some point between my wedding day and today I've managed to do what I said I'd never do:  I've let myself go.  Seven and a half years and three very large babies later I find myself going out in public in sweats, makeup-less, in desperate need of a haircut, and 35 lbs. overweight.  In short, I've become the person I swore I'd never be.  The 30-something lady in line at the supermarket wearing nothing but a track suit and the look of defeat. 

It's not that I don't want to look good, it's that I've managed to devise a list of excuses as to why I don't have to.  I mean, who has time for makeup when three kids under age six have to get out the door in the morning too?  And why should I bother to spend money on a haircut when I have to wear it back because of my 7-month-old's tendency to grab and yank it out?  And sure, sweats don't look great, but boy are they comfy when everything else I own doesn't fit right anymore.  As for those 35 lbs., how long can I blame pregnancy weight for that one?  Seriously, the kid hasn't cut his first tooth yet!  Plus I'm nursing him and need the extra calories, so there!