The Best of the Maplewood Moms

I'm ranking these from "interesting" to "really great" (disagree if you wish):

(3) Hi Mamas! Is Uni Kitchen ever open? I passed by just now, and it's closed, and the sign clearly says it should be "open" (photo attached). Who can explain?

I like this because there is a real effort not to be a "Karen" on this site. But the effort evaporates if food is involved. (Friday night at Sabatino's Pizza. I'm waiting ninety minutes for a simple pizza order! Is this normal???)

(2) Let's talk toilet paper. Is it even possible to find a roll that isn't "mega" sized? Nothing fits in my little wall divot? (Photo attached.)

I like the photo, and I also like the solutions: (1) Purchase a free-standing paper-holder, almost like the kind you might use for paper towels, (2) Research Who Gives a Crap, which is a special kind of toilet paper; you'll find home delivery options.

(1) Last week, I saw my own job description listed on Indeed. I confronted the VP of my company, and she said she is hiring an assistant for me, because I have so much work! What do you think?

This is a favorite of mine because it seems like the germ of a Henry James novel. You read it once, and you think, How can this writer fail to grasp that she is on the verge of losing her job? But read again, and ask yourself: Might *you* reach for denial, or half-denial, if you were in this situation? I hope this is like Act One of "Legally Blonde," where Reese splashes cold water on her face, and she starts over; she is tougher, she is better than before. This one haunts my dreams.

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How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

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Josh at Five

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Liars and Saints

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