When Your Pets Have To Go

Sherry Davey here, your fellow mommy and personal comedian. This blog is a two drink minimum so sit back, sip slowly and get your relax on.

Okay. It’s official. The allergist formally told us today that our cat, Oscar, is definitely worsening our daughter, Lily’s, asthma. He has to go. And I don’t mean go as in we’ll be following behind him with a little plastic bag, I’m saying we have to pack his bags.

Apparently, no amount of Singulaire nor Hepa Filters can repair this relationship. I never thought I’d have to do this to my other baby but unfortunately I do. I mean, when I first met my husband, Larry, he and my dog at the time, Harry, did not get along. After we got married it became a real problem. My husband actually said, “It’s him or me.” I was like, “So where should I send your things?”

But the allergist confirmed it, “He has to go.” (The cat, not Larry.) I’ve come to hate these four words as much as I’ve hated certain other four word phrases: weapons of mass destruction; YOU, ME AND DUPREE. What a waste of our first night out with out Lily in ages!

Anyway, Oscar is moving to the burbs to live with Nagypapa – my dad is Hungarian. I can’t believe it! For years Larry and I have wanted to leave the city meanwhile the cat is going to make it to Long Island before we do. Good luck Oscar…I hear the taxes are killer.

Baby Birthday Parties Are Getting Out Of Hand!

Hi there. Sherry Davey here, your fellow mummy and personal comedian. Yes, I said mummy not mommy. I’m English but don’t be afraid I’m not here to solve a murder mystery. The waitress is coming back so quickly get your rum and diet coke because you don’t want to miss a minute of this….

Okay, my patience is really being tested this summer…and I don’t think it’s the heat. It’s the bizarro, over-the-top, endless stream of birthday parties that Lily and I have been attending since June that are really getting to me. There’s got to be a limit to this kiddie birthday crap.

As if the Princess Parties weren’t bad enough! Now the latest is the Salon Party. Yes, that’s right. The Salon Party - where little girls gather at a professional salon to have their hair styled, get a manicure and have make-up applied. Basically, it’s a makeover followed by cake and candles. You look like a little whore…now have some cake.

This is becoming quite the rage in New York at the moment. We went to one yesterday and Lily had the complete package. PS – The birthday girl was only six, Lily is three. By the way, I never heard a hair stylist scream, “sit still” so many times to a group of children that weren’t even in a wedding party. This was supposed to be fun?! They argued over who was getting their hair done first, who got to sit in the pink chair and who looked the best. PSS – none of them looked great. In fact, tbey looked like they were all ready for one of those sick child, beauty pageants they have in the South….and there wasn’t even a scholarship up for grabs. It was truly an Amber alert centerfold.

Three weeks ago we attended a spa party for a four year old. Yes, they all got hot stone treatments and massages to relieve their upper body tension. ‘Cause you know how stressful potty training and playing all day can be.

Give it a rest already. Whatever happened to just having a pool party? It’s summer. Gather people at a park, have a picnic. Keep it simple they’re children and let’s let them remain children for as long as possible please. Not to sound like one of those ranting, crazy old ladies on the street but honestly….in my day (imagine me saying that with an old lady voice), we were very happy to just have backyard parties where we did the egg and spoon race, the three-legged race and other exercise-centric, group friendly, age appropriate activities. And my mother, Jane Hussein, was free to smoke, booze it up and still enjoy chatting with the other mums! She didn’t have to keep leaving the building to answer her cell phone….hint, hint.

What’s next? A ‘lingerie party followed by a makeover and a date party’ for little girls? For little boys we could have the ‘survivor slash make over party’ where they’re turned into metrosexuals then dumped on an island….and not the island of Manhattan.

Enough already, the next time we’re invited to one of these outlandish, adult themed parties we’re passing. Thanks, you've been a terrific audience. I’ll be here all weekend.

Actually, I’ll be at the Comic Strip in NYC this weekend. Drop me a note if you want to be on my guest list.

Baby Head Is The Best

Lily, Larry and I visited with our friend, Emma, and her new baby today. The baby is only one week old – a precious girl named Jordan. I love newborns, I like a fresh one. She has that great baby head smell that babies have too. She smells like a combination of baby lotion and slightly sour milk. It’s an intoxicating aroma that actually gave me a buzz. I’m not kidding you. I suddenly felt light headed. I think the other guests were getting buzzed too because they passed her around like a bong. I was like hey, stop bogarting the baby!

In my aroma-induced haze I scared my husband by mumbling things like, “I think it’s time for another,” and “come on we have enough money.” We so don’t. He told me I’m ready for reality rehab. When Lily was a newborn she smelled like a combination of baby lotion and chocolate chip cookies. It must be evolutionary -- make them cute and smell good so that their mothers don’t just abandon them by the roadside. Their looks and their smell definitely ensures their survival. Could you imagine if they looked and smelled just like tiny adults? “That thing that looks like Uncle Morty needs his diaper changed. Oh, and he just farted.” The world population would definitely not be at the six billion mark it is now.

Good Friends Problem Children

Sherry Davey here, your fellow mommy and personal, professional stand up comedian. Sit back, grab a cup of coffee ‘cause this is going to be a good one. Now I need to confess something to you. I have a friend whose child is so spoiled and behaves so badly that I’m now actively avoiding her. I’ve tried subtle and not so subtle hints like, “Bring over the movie you made on your last trip….the Omen.”

She’s a good friend and a great gal, someone who’s company I always enjoy. I used to look forward to our play dates now I dread them. I think Lily does too. She actually said yesterday, “When Ethan comes over can I just go to bed?” Now, being the sleep deprived mommy that I am, I actually said yes. I also don’t believe in subjecting my child to other poorly behaved children. Also, kids always seem to pick up the worst habits from each other. No one ever says, “You know, since hanging around with Billy, Michael is getting better at math and says thank you all the time.”

So, I put Lily in bed with a mini DVD player, set the volume on low and closed the door. When they arrived I told them my mother came and took her for an unexpected trip to the park.. Much to my chagrin, within the hour she came downstairs. I guess she was stirred by Ethan’s screaming and whining and the sound of his fists hitting his mother’s back. He’s a lovely child.

I used the occasion to politely, but bluntly (what could I do I was caught) council her on why all our friends won’t speak to her anymore nor invite Ethan to birthday parties. But it just didn’t sink in. She and her husband are convinced that he’s a special sort of genius child and that other children just have trouble relating to him because of his ‘supreme intelligence’. She actually used that term, ‘supreme intelligence’ sounds like some sort of government conspiracy to me. “Really?” I replied. “I didn’t know that throwing up to get your own way is a sign of genius?”

I’m at the end of my tether. We’re never able to get together without the kids so it’s the two of them or nothing – deal or no deal. It’s only mid-summer but I think I’m going to be weeding ye olde friendship garden very soon. Let’s not have a play date let’s have a conference call instead!

When Am I Ever Going To Sleep Again?!

Hello fellow mommy it is I, Sherry Davey, your favorite sleep deprived comedian. I have a 3-year-old named Lily. She’s a healthy, happy, smart, well-adjusted, sweet little child who simply refuses to sleep. She stopped taking naps at 18 months and ever since then my husband and I have found ourselves slipping into the realm of sleep-deprived madness. It’s not like she spends all day watching television either. She’s only 3 and already her calendar is full which means I’m constantly on the move too. This child could run a marathon and still not fall asleep till 11:00pm and be awake promptly at 5:30am. Yes, that’s right, you heard me, between 5 and 5:30am are our daily wake up calls….I’m like where are you going fishing?! Get back in that bed!

Being a working comedian, I don’t get to bed till late anyway. I usually perform about 4-5 nights a week so this pre-dawn revelly crap is killing me. I have mommy memory to begin with combine that with lack of sleep and it’s a recipe for what I call a waking coma. I find myself going up the stairs and halfway up forgetting what I’m going up there for. Then, after turning around and going back down, when I’m just three steps from the bottom, I suddenly remember what it is that I’ve forgotten…only to find I’m too tired to venture back up those stairs again. So in the end I just pee in the garden. Maybe that’s why most new families buy ranch houses.

She was an amazing sleeper when she was an infant....that’s why we kept her. I feel like such a whiner complaining about this because my friend and fellow comedian from Mamas Night Out, Karen Morgan, has 3 children aged 3,5, and 6 and she always seems to be so together. I asked her how she does it and she replied….drugs. She gives the kids a small, no-need-to-call-social-services glass of Sangria with dinner when she’s particularly tired and then she takes an Ambien so she’ll sleep through the night. My mother used to give me a shot of cream liqueur when I was particularly hyper in the evenings. She used to tell me it was good for my bones. Needless to say, my teacher was quite disturbed when during a nutrition lesson I told my 1st grade class that milk, spinach and Bailey’s Irish Cream were high in calcium.

I’m not above doing that either. If Whole Foods comes out with an organic, non-dairy, liqueur I’m all over it. Which brings me back to my point….you see, I can’t even remember what I was talking about. Will I ever get a good night’s sleep again? Or will I fully evolve into mommy monster?….a crabby, baggy eyed, going gray too early, snapping shrew. How are you managing? Please let me know. Remember, it takes a village….an iVillage to raise a child.

Cheers and hopefully good night,
Sherry Davey

Jane Hussein Has Left The Building…..AKA Olive Garden Update

Above: 3 Generations of Dysfunctional Daveys: Jane Hussein; Sherry; & Lily

Jane Hussein Has Left The Building…..AKA Olive Garden Update

Hello dear readers it is I, Sherry Davey, your fellow mommy and personal comedian. I just wanted to give you an update on the ‘Showdown at the Olive Garden’. My sister, Jessica, and I took our mother out to the Olive Garden to celebrate her retirement from the school district on Monday. To bring you up to speed, we refer to our mum as Jane Hussein because like the dictator with the same name, she also strong arms people, attacks the innocent and doesn't acknowledge borders. Buh dump chink…..I’ll be here all weekend thank you. I’m unfortunately not exaggerating about Jane. She claims it’s from being English, “I believe in setting people straight.” She may be English but she would have made a great Nazi.

Any way, the air was thick with tension when we picked up mum…maybe it was the humidity, who knows….mum was initially very cheerful. However, twice she did mention that it would have been more fun if we brought the grandchildren….a not so subtle hint that she obviously can’t stand being alone with her own kids anymore. Any rate, we remained polite and made lots of delightful small talk on the way to the Olive Garden. Which by the way, I think should really change its slogan, “When you’re here you’re like family.” I hope they don’t mean my family! Does that mean they’re going to make us sit with the children and tell us that we never amounted to anything?! Please, when I’m spending my hard earned cash do me a favor and don’t treat me like family…treat me like a stranger for god’s sake. Hospitaliano my eye!

So we get beyond the overly priced salad only to be disappointed by the main course when mum chimes in all aghast, “You’re not going to eat that pasta Sherry! It’s loaded with carbs.” Congratulations mum. It only took you 20 minutes into the meal to make your first weight crack of the day. I do struggle with weight. I recently tried and failed the Miami South Beach Diet – that’s the one where you do a line of coke and date a gay guy. It’s a very quick diet loaded with liberal amounts of shame. But, I let her have her little remark as it was her day….here’s your present. Believe me, she enjoyed that present much more than any one I could have bought her in a store.

Surprisingly, she didn’t mention Jessica’s boyfriend once. All that acid build up in my sister’s stomach for nothing. She felt so queasy she could barely get down a free breadstick. (Jessica’s boyfriend is a few years older than her and Jane doesn’t approve.) She did manage to insult the waiter at least twice…so it wasn’t a total loss. He was a very diminutive, Mexican gentleman whom she referred to as a ‘sweet little man’ to his face! I wonder if there was any soup in that bowl of spit she wolfed down.

Any rate, I would say it was a very successful lunch as no one left crying nor ran out screaming, “Never f-ing call me again.” That actually happened at my cousins wedding.

Congratulations on your retirement mum.

Jane Hussein Has Retired

My sister and I are taking our mother out for lunch tomorrow. We're celebrating Jane Hussein's retirement from the school district. That's not her real name of course that's her nickname around here. Because like the dictator with the same name, she also strong arms people, attacks the innocent and doesn't acknowlege borders. Unfortunately, I'm not exaggerating. I have a sinking feeling about this lunch. My sister and I are going without our children so that means that mum will only have us to focus all her anger on. My sister is a single mother with two children. She has a boyfriend that Jane does not approve of because he is considerably older than my sister. I think this harmless little, well-intentioned lunch is going to be a blood bath....show down at The Olive Garden.

I'll keep you posted.

Childrens Museums Can Be Lethal

I love the fact that wherever we travel in this great land of ours a childrens museum is very often close at hand. This holds true for Rhode Island as well. My husband, Lily and I spent a long weekend in Providence because I was headlining at Catch A Rising Star Comedy Club in Lincoln Park. There is a great children’s museum right in Providence. It’s relatively inexpensive ($6 for everyone over 1) and a lot more educational then an afternoon at an amusement park...and it’s air-conditioned!

The only thing that still puts me off about these museums is that the parents of the smaller children (anyone 2 and under) are often oblivious to the older toddlers - the 3 and 4 year olds. Now I understand the need to bend over and help your baby walk because he/she is dying to be a part of the action but whilst you’re in the bend-over position mind that your derriere does not become a lethal weapon. Lily was knocked over more times than I or she
cares to remember. Lily is 3. There was this one woman who must have knocked her over at least twice with her large posterior and it wasn’t like Lily wasn’t watching out for it...it was just so large that she couldn’t escape it. The woman never apologized (maybe she lost the feeling in it, I don't know) nor did she bother to look behind her to see where all that crying was emanating from. She just rudely focused on her own babe while ignoring all the injured ones left in her wake. Now I know what it’s like when your precious baby is surrounded by wild, screaming toddlers....this was not so long ago for us either. But remember mama, our older children are just as precious as yours and they’ll always be our babies.

Mr. Potato Head Freaks Me Out

Mr. Potato Head Freaks Me Out

Hello, Sherry Davey here. Your favorite red-headed, English comedian. We're in Rhode Island for the weekend because I'm headlining at Catch A Rising Star in Lincoln Park. The shows are going smashingly well and we're really enjoying visiting America's smallest state. Yesterday, we went to Roger Williams Park in Providence. I'ts a lovely Victorian style park and Lily had a great time. She ran around like mad despite the raging heat. She went on the carousel and rode the paddle boats. It was all very entertaining until.......Mr. Potato Head showed up. He/she, whoever was in that blasted costume, hung around the exit of the carousel totally freaking out the kids. Thanks. We just spent $9 on the carousel and now all the kids are crying because Mr. Potato Head wants to hand out menus for a new restaurant. I'm not exactly sure what it is about adults in costumes outside of Halloween that freaks me out but it just does and it appears Lily (and most other children) feel the same way. Maybe it's the fact that our economy is still so shaky that some poor soul has to wear a 20 pound, furry costume in ninety-degree weather just to make ends meet that's so upsetting. At any rate, Lily was thoroughly freaked and then became inconsolable as were most of the other under-4's as well. It's an evil little plan really. Get the kids and the parents attention by dressing up some poor soul as say Tigger to draw in business to a new store. I see this all the time in Brooklyn. Once inside, the children realize there are no other characters and that's when the real tears begin.

Thanks Mr. Potato Head for ruining a beautiful afternoon.

Lily Puts The E In Empowerment

Hi. Sherry Davey here, your personal comedian and mommy blogger. Yes, I’m a real comedian feel free to check out my website www.sherrydavey.com I need to share something with you and get it off my chest. I was both delighted and disillusioned at my daughter Lily’s Moving Up ceremony at nursery school this year. Her class this term consisted of all girls…this was neither deliberate nor my choice…it just worked out that way. Between the teachers, students and all the mommies at the ceremony, it was truly an estrogen fest. I swear my boobs became tender during the Pledge of Allegiance thank god they served chocolate cake afterwards. Anyway, they had dear little films made of all the girls answering questions like what’s your favorite food and color, where do you see yourself five years from now, etc, etc…..very sweet. However, the last in the series of these questions was, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Okay, this is where I became very disillusioned. To my shock and horror all the girls, now remember they’re only three, answered either a “supermodel” or a “ballerina.” Unfortunately, the majority of them said supermodel. I was disgusted! And what’s even more disgusting was that I was the only one who was disgusted!! All the other mothers seemed to think this was cute. I didn’t. I thought it was an unfortunate reflection on our society and our now defunct women’s movement. Now maybe it was just my usual pre-menstrual moodiness brought on by all the estrogen but I was really depressed by the supermodel answer. Then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, they saved Lily’s response for last. Off camera the teacher repeated the question, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Here’s where delight took over. Lily took a moment to ponder, smiled a smile that will always make me smile and replied, “When I grow up I want to be a snake.” Everyone laughed and so did I. Then I found myself overcome with tears of pride and joy. Thank god! A creative, age appropriate, refreshingly individual response from my girl. Bravo my darling! Lily made me even more proud of her that day…...and I’m really relieved that she didn’t say comedian.

I Actually Had A Moment To Myself This Weekend

Hi! Sherry Davey here, your friendly comedian, mommy blogger. Summer spells feast or famine for most comedians. My summer so far has been a little of both. June was incredibly busy filled with road trips to Atlantic City, Connecticut and Massachusetts. Next weekend, July 13-15, I’ll be headlining at the new Catch A Rising Star at Lincoln Park in Rhode Island. After that, things slow down a bit with most July weekends being in Manhattan. This past weekend, I worked two of my favorite clubs in NYC – The Comic Strip & Sal’s Comedy Hole. Sal’s is located in the village. In between shows, I sat outside sipping iced tea at a sidewalk café. It was about eight o’clock and the weather was marvelous, a perfect summer twilight. It was truly a memorable moment that I had all to myself! I sat there all alone just people watching for about 40 minutes and now I truly understand the allure of this pursuit. This was much better than my usual cooking channel zone out and there was no one there to say, “Where were you?”. I actually felt refreshed and energized. Who knew watching an endless stream of tacky tourists wearing water bottle holsters and fannie packs loaded with lip balm could be revitalizing?! As mums we don’t get much time for ourselves. I can’t remember the last time I peed in private, read a book or got dressed without someone pointing to my boobs and saying, “they’re funny.” (I could just kill my husband.) I’m not complaining. Honestly, I love being a mum but I do relish being alone from time to time. Being alone can be better than sex….but sex alone…not the greatest.

The 4th of July & Thanksgiving Are My Favorite Holidays

Hello there! My name is Sherry Davey. I'm a mother and a professional comedian hence my blog...FUNNY MOM. This is my very first post for iVillage, thanks for clicking in. We’ve had a lot of firsts lately. I just finished a week of headlining for the first time in Atlantic City at Catch A Rising Star at Resorts and it went really well...seeing as my week ended just before the State of New Jersey's budget did. I hope the governor and the other politicians of New Jersey get their act together and re-open the casinos as soon as possible. Lily, our 3 year old, went without a diaper at night for the first time last Sunday! This is a major milestone for us and I have mixed emotions about it. I’m so relieved not to buy diapers anymore and that she’s able to stay dry through the night all on her own. However, it’s another vestige of babyhood that she’s said goodbye to and it makes me a bit melancholy. It’s all going by so quickly. They always said it would (‘they’ being almost everyone I’ve spoken to in the past three years). Perhaps that’s why I was not so reluctant to help her find her ‘nunnie’ (pacifier) last night. I instituted a rule about ten months ago that if she still wants her nunnie at bedtime that she has to be responsible for it. No more torturing us with frantic, furniture over-turning searches accompanied by screams of “find it!”. I still crack up when I hear her calling it, “come out, come out wherever you are.” So, this July 4th we celebrated an additional freedom. (Yes Lily still occasionally uses a pacifier at night. I know, I know, I’m a bad mother…but I need to sleep too.)

Which brings me to my point – why I love the 4th of July & Thanksgiving. I love these holidays because they’re not about gifts and there’s no pressure to shop (unless one is doing the cooking). They’re just about getting together with family and friends and being together. Even though these family get-togethers can be fraught with dysfunctional drama and the fireworks at night aren’t always as exciting as the fireworks at the dinner table, I still adore them…and the lack of shopping. This year’s drama involved my sister and my parents. Mum and dad do not approve of her new beau. My sister is a single parent with two young children. Her new boyfriend is a bit older than her and my parents do not approve. Did you hear that? I said it twice because I want you to feel just as hit-over-the-head by this as I do. However, they can’t just say, “we don’t approve” and be done with it. They made faces behind his back (at least my mother did) and there was the proverbial rolling of the eyeballs at the picnic table….please pass the corn. The pièce de résistance was when my husband asked for a cheeseburger and my father warned him that it wouldn’t be fresh tasting because the cheddar was ‘aged’. At least this year, I had an inkling of what was coming. Unlike last year, when after fighting horrendous holiday traffic for four hours, I arrived to the silent treatment because my aunt had just called from England to inform my parents that she never received a thank you card from me for the Christmas present she had sent Lily. Which by the way was not true! My drunken grandmother must have snatched up the letter in a fit of jealous rage or something…..please pass the beer.

Like I said, this year I knew what was coming so I was prepared. Nevertheless, I did my best to focus on the positive and keep my dad in mind this particular holiday. He is a Vietnam Veteran and this holiday has a particular significance for him. He is also a Hungarian refugee. He escaped from in 1956 with the revolution at the age of 13…by himself! He spent five years in a refugee camp with no family to watch over him. When he was finally of age, he was released from the camp and made his way to America. Upon arriving in this country, he joined the military. He could barely speak English when he found himself on a plane bound for Vietnam. We are very proud of my dad and his service for this country. We are proud to be Americans despite the current administration…and Anne Coulter. Uugghhh! I’m so disgusted with the Bush administration on so many issues: war; the environment; the economy; the erosion of our civil liberties; reproductive rights; etc….I don’t even know where to begin! (Don’t worry, in my future blogs I will definitely go there.) For now, seeing as we are celebrating ‘freedom’ I’d like to call for freedom from death and devastation. Now that I am a mother, I want more than ever for there to be peace on earth. Now that I have experienced the joy and pain of childbirth I don’t want any more mothers to lose their children in war or any other particularly male pursuits. I truly feel that if they could only experience an Episiotomy these men wouldn’t be so quick to start wars. If women ruled the world it would definitely be a more peaceful place. No more wars just a war of words…..and many words if women are involved. Buh dump chink….someone hit a cymbal.

Okay, so in my first blog I call for women to rule the world…not too ambitious a topic…sound a little like Dr.Evil don’t I? At any rate, hope you enjoyed your 4th of July as much as I did.

Cheers,
Sherry

“If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child may have peace.”
--Thomas Paine (1737-1809)