Beta Mom

Ode to Orangina

As I was leaving the Country Mart, my child was having a tantrum and pulling my hair. While trying not to say bad words and smile at passersby who stared with the look that says "Gosh, aren't two year olds a handful?", I remembered something wonderful: I had a semi cold bottle of Orangina in my purse.

Clearly, it doesn't take much.

Once I got the toddler into the carseat, holding most of my remaining hair in his hands, I turned on the air conditioning and pulled out my bottle of liquid sunshine. Why does Orangina make a tired BetaMom so happy? Let's answer that with a question: "Where do we unually find Orangina?" Huh? IN A HOTEL MINI BAR!

If you are in a hotel, and going through the minibar, chances are you are on a rare "grownup vacation" with BetaDad (or whomever, I don't want to know.) When I drink an Orangina, it tastes a little like the Ritz Carlton Central Park, The Four Seasons Biltmore in Montecito, Montage, Aviara, the list goes on and on... It tastes like sunny days, clean rooms, room service and no small people in my bed.

Orangina - it tastes like freedom.

With that in mind, it occured to me that it should be used in a mixed drink.

Here are some recipes I found on the internet:

Rachael Ray's Orangina Sunrise (see picture above)

French Screwdriver What is french about this?

RIP

We conclude our first ever BetaMomCelebrityWeek with a goodbye to reggae great and ska pioneer, Desmond Dekker. He died of a heart attack in his home in Britain at the age of 64.

Why does BetaMom celebrate the music of Desmond Dekker? Take a listen to his first hit - Honour Your Mother and Father. Enjoy some of the lyrics:

"Honor your mother and your father
That your days may be long on the land
Children obey your parents and the law
This is the law of the prophets

Love your parents as how you love yourself
Do onto others as they would do to you"

Sounds corny, but to a reggae beat, it's pretty cool.

BetaKid and BetaMom cranked up the song and had a good dance to honour Mr. Dekker.
Rest in peace.

And The Winner Is...

One AlphaMom has been featured so prominently on TV this week, she deserves mention as the "Celebrity AlphaMom of the Week." Her devotion to her daughter, the exposure of her old cleavage on TV, and her general pushy stage motheriness has not been seen since the mother of Gypsy Rose Lee.

Let's all give a round of BetaSnaps to: Peisha McPhee, the mother of the beautiful, talented and soulless American Idol finalist, Katharine McPhee.

From the start of the season, it was clear that Mama McPhee was pushing her daughter to acheve the kind of singing success that she never had as a cabaret singer on Princess Cruise Line. (No, I am not kidding - Princess Cruise Line.)

Mrs. McPhee hasn't said much on the show, but her AlphaWaves can be felt every time the camera pans to her during her daughter's performances. (Don't get me started on the blubbering dad.) She beames at her daughter with a disturbing mixture of admiration, envy and the soul-sucking worship of a pedophile. (Sorry - that got meaner than BetaMom intended.)

An AP interview quoted McPhee:

“A few months back people interviewed me and said, ‘Between one and 10, what do you think your daughter is?’ her mother recalled recently. “And at the time I said, ‘A 20.’ And I think some of the people thought, ‘Oh, it’s the mother talking.”’

Yes, it is the mother talking. It sounds like this mother has been talking to Beyonce's mother, who dresses her like a whore and allows her to date a scary old gangster. Or was it Celine Dion's mother, who allowed her grandfatherly manager to marry her?

Some BetaAdvice for her: Get your kid offstage, put some clothes on her, stop returning calls from Meatloaf (you know what I am talking about) and let her go to college, drink wine coolers, barf, and major in something she will never use. LET HER BE A NORMAL GIRL.

Advice for BetaMoms: Keep your kids off TV or risk a promotion to Alpha.

Retroactive Declaration

BetaMom Decree: This week shall heretofore be known as "Celebrity Week."

In this week of reality TV finales and juicy CelebMom gossip, everything else seems unimportant. Next week BetaMom will return to the normal format of tips and complaints.

Declaring a theme retroactive to the beginning of the week? BETA
Hosting a dinner party for the premiere of "So You Think You Can Dance?"? ALPHA
Watching the finales of American Idol, Top Chef, Lost, House and Medium? BETA

Deciding Vote: Too engrossed in TV to post to the blog for two days. BETA

Hollywood Moms: Alpha vs. Beta

All the Cheaples in the world can’t answer the most important question. Will the real BetaMoms please stand up?

Gwyneth P:
Organic food, London expat, designer wardrobe, vacations on borrowed yachts = Alpha
Took Toddler to Glastonbury concerts, married a Rocker, friends with Madonna, picked highly questionable baby name = Beta
Deciding Vote: Slept with Ben Affleck (Gamma) = BETA

Katie – whoops! – Kate C:
10 million dollar Beverly Hills Home, Soccer mom, constant Stepford expression(lessness), entourage = Alpha
Married down, shamed her family, stretch marks exposed to photographers, freaky religion believes in aliens, picked highly questionable baby name, public binge shoe shopping right up to the
day she popped = Beta
Deciding Vote: well-documented obsession with cupcakes = BETA

Madonna C.:
Workaholic, published popular children’s book, London expat, alpha workouts, strict parent, no sugar, no tv = Alpha
Wears purple, published book about sex, freaky religion renamed her Esther, married two bad boys, probably slept with Sandra Bernhart = Beta
Deciding Vote: starred in the bad island movie her husband directed = BETA

Angelina J.:
Workaholic, perfect body, saves the children, hangs out in the UN for fun, moved to freaking Africa to have her baby, lives with Brad Pitt = Alpha
Bisexual, wore vial of Billy Bob’s blood, the whole tats thing, collects weapons, moved to freaking Africa to have her baby = Beta
Deciding Vote: made out with own brother on national television = BETA

Reese W.:
Workaholic, always get her highlights on time, cute figure, taught herself to sing, academy award, sends kids to fancy westla apha mom preschool: Alpha
Married one-time actor, now sulky alleged pothead Ryan Phillipe and married him at an age you should only be married in Arkansas.
Deciding Vote: Calls her company Type A Productions = ALPHA

Britney S.F.:
They sell her perfume at Neimans; the 8 million dollar house in Malibu = ALPHA
Cheetos-aholic, Chainsmoking nastiness, Carseat two-time busts, Highchair incident, child endangerment police visit, love handles, freaky religion dabbler, cut-offs, barefeet in the gas station
restroom…the list just goes on and on…
Deciding Vote: K-Fed = GAMMA

Kate Cruise: A BetaMom Intervention

Beta: Katie, Katie, come on. You know we love you. We’ve always loved you, back since the days of Dawson’s Creek.

Kate: (listless) Oh. My name is Kate, now. (trails off)

Beta: Katie, Katie, come sit by me. I brought you a red velvet cupcake from Sprinkles in Beverly Hills?

Kate: (almost imperceptibly brightening) With the cream cheese frosting?

Beta: Of course.

Kate: (stuffing her face) Mummph Mummph Mummph.

Beta: Let’s talk about Tom.

Kate: (stricken) Don’t – mummph – tell him – mymmph – about the Sprinkles.

Beta: Tom doesn’t care about you. We do.

Kate: I don’t even read your site.

Beta: I mean the hoards of strangers who read Cheaple. The countless photographers who are stalking you. The moms on the opposing soccer teams. The Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf employees. The Barneys and Neiman’s shoe salesmen. The people making your chubby wedding dress. All people you will never meet and don’t care about. We’re all rooting for you. Because you’re making a real mistake, and we just don’t know if we can bear to watch it anymore.

Kate: I’ll level with you. He’s Tom Cruise. Tom Cruise. Doesn’t that mean anything to you people? Even if he is crazy as a loon, he’s Tom freaking Cruise. How could I pass up the chance to marry Tom Cruise? Didn’t you ever see Top Gun? Risky Business?

Beta: We understand. You live a fairy tale life, only it’s the wrong one. It’s a spooky one. You think you’re Cinderella but you’re really Sleeping Beauty, and unless he’s given you a physical lobotomy, you’re asleep or at least extremely medicated and you’re not going to wake up for 100 years. You know the drill.

Kate: You people think I’m depressed. You don’t know me.

Beta: We know you’re freaked out because you didn’t know how big a nutter your boyfriend was when you got knocked up, and now you’re in a panic and you’re living with Norman Bates and you don’t know what to do about it. You didn’t know he would think aliens are real and shrinks are pretend. You didn’t know he likes to keep his wife in a little jar on his shelf. You didn’t know he was going to change your name and kick dirt in your family’s face. You just didn’t know. And you thought the weird thing about him was that he used to have adult braces…

Kate: I just want to talk to Dawson. Where’s Dawson? If he were here he would make everything okay again.

Beta: Have another cupcake.

Kate: Mummph Mummph Mummph Mumpph – Promise?

Beta: We won’t tell a soul.

Legal CYA - If you for a second wonder if this is a real interview, you are crazy and demoted all the way to ThetaMom.

The Britney Chronicles: I'll Tumble For Ya

Former BetaRating: Delta Mom

Wanna feel like a better mom? Check out this excellent movie of Britney's trip with baby SFed.

Demoted again.

Current BetaRating: EpsilonMom

Just a thought - as much as Britney makes us feel superior, it's not like some BetaMoms have never carried the baby outside, slammed their heads into the open garage door, momentarily passed out, dropped the baby, and sat on the sidewalk wondering what happened. So let's not feel so superiour ladies, remember - superiority is so alpha...

The Britney Chronicles: Oops, I did it again...

Former BetaRating: GammaMom

I am sure that everyone has heard that Britney had another carseat... uh... incident that was photographed by the stalkerazzi.

Seriously. Brit - don't you know that people are watching you? Pick up your game a little. You have been demoted to DeltaMom. (Yes, I had to look up what comes after gamma.)

Current BetaRating: DeltaMom

Kevin Costner Ruined My Massage

...by getting his Hot Rocks off during a massage at a hotel spa in Scotland. On His Honeymoon. You know the story. That's right, you read about it a few Fridays ago in Cheaple. Now it's the first time BetaMom has gotten a massage since then, and well, it's all she can think about.

Well, that's not strictly true. BetaMom is also wondering if the Masseuse has IBS, because someone's bowels are growling and gurgling right in her ear. BetaMom is wondering if she will have to pee from drinking too much Spa Water in the Quiet Room. BetaMom is also wondering what the Masseuse could have snacked on in the back room that would have stopped all the gurgling...what the back room looks like...do they all stand around back there talking about Kevin Costner jacking up his life...and now here we are, back at Kevin Costner and his Hot Rocks.

As if there was ever anything else.

The towel that covers a small strip of the BetaButt is very small. Was Kevin's towel that small? AK, After Kevin, the towel seems much smaller. BetaMom never used to be one of those moms who had to wear a bathing suit during a massage. AK, she is regretting it. She is wondering what the Masseuse did in the moments leading up to the Hot Rocks incident. Was there some accidental Massaging? Did he just flip over and start, you know...Rocking those Rocks? Or did his Rocks get Rocked and if so, could that happen to BetaMom?

BetaMom begins to panic with every IBS gurgle. She contemplates sitting up and leaving. She worries that this will make IBS girl feel badly. She worries that IBS girl may have an intestinal bag, and that sitting up will make IBS girl burst into tears, since IBS girl has been living a long and painful life of intenstinal noise. BetaMom feels terribly for her, and now guilty for imagining Doritos could have fixed the situation. BetaMom reminds herself that the constitution protects those small zones she would not like to have massaged. The law is on her side. PreK and AK, spa nudity is not real nudity... right? ...right?

BetaMom can hear the clock ticking between the gurgles and over the Hopi massage soundtrack.

BetaMom decides that Kevin Costner must Whack the Rocks all the time, even with strangers, even on his honeymoon. Stuff like that doesn't happen to just anyone.

BetaMom imagines Kevin Costner sizing up other opportunities...in the dentist's chair...in the elevator...in the back of a cab...at a parent teacher conference...at the DMV...

IBS girl picks up the hot rock from BetaMom's stomach. Free at last. Time for a good cry.

Thank you, Kevin Costner. BetaMom sincerely hopes it was the best sex of your life. AK, you have ruined massages for all the rest of us, for all the rest of time and all eternity.

Now pray Cheaperazzi aren't there when he does it at Haagen Dazs. That, that would be a real problem.

Beta Fat Camp: Damn, Those Cookies Are Small

It is six p.m., and approximately 98 degrees outside, which is quite possibly why there was availability at the spa.

This is not a spa in the sense of “Get a Massage at the Four Seasons.” This is Miraval: a Premium Soy Nut Munchin’, Endless Water Drinkin', Mindfulness Speakin’, No Cellphone Ringin’, Sunrise Hikin’, Arizona Fat Camp for Moms. A spa which, coincidentally, also employs a remarkable work force which redefines one’s concept of Arizona as Where Old White People Must Go To Die (but first, I suppose, also get a job at a spa.)

By lunchtime today, BetaMom and BetaBFF had hiked for two hours through “The Wash,” taken an hour of Yogalates, trained on the Elliptical Machine, and lifted weights -- all before consuming a small grilled vegetable plate (60 calories per serving) and a sad little bowl of vegetable chili (120 calories per half cup.) When nobody was looking, BetaMom also snuck two decaf lattes and two of the teeniest cookies ever produced by seventy-year-old hands. She also spied a plate of brownies two more clever Betas had hidden at their table, but by then it was too late to make a move without attracting attention. And all this in a restaurant that names dishes by their side vegetable first – as in “Two Buns With Lettuce and Tomato,” which would be followed by, in very small print, “Accompanied by Meat Patty.” A restaurant, not coincidentally, entirely full of women. Yes, we are enjoying what can only be called Mess Hall at the Fat Camp!

After lunch, BetaMom was counseled about children’s nutrition (including Being Mindful of All Body Types, and Remembering to Put One’s Fork Down Between Bites) along with BetaBFF and two Ana Alphas from the East Coast. BetaMom tried not to shock them by revealing that Betakids eat in the car three nights a week (does that count as Family Dinner? Will the BetaKids still be statistically less likely to Smoke and Drink in high school?) and that the weekend is usually Chinese and Pizza. Before rounding out the afternoon with a dip in the pool and oh yes, Mindfully Opening Her Heart during the Evening Stretch, BetaMom snuck into the zen rock garden and talked on her cellphone. When the tallest rock formation collapsed, she may or may not have made her getaway…but not before attracting some not very zen stinkeye from Yoga Pants and her YogaGalPal.

Sitting in the room, waiting for a massage, BetaMom has to admit she is practicing mindfulness, as opposed to her usual mindlessness. She is mindful that she has enjoyed two days with nobody pooping in their underwear. Two days with no driving on either the 405 or the 10. Two days with food, however small or limp, handed to her on a clean plate. No children are pinching the rolls on the sagging Betabody (really, let’s be honest, Gammabody) and calling it “Pizza Dough.” And she is keenly mindful of the fact that she went to bed at nine in the evening without even half a Lunesta.

Thank you, Old People of Arizona. Your hands may be gnarled and arthritic, and the seaweed mask may have smelled like dog poo, but hot rocks are hot rocks and oh yes, we are Mindful of the Facial all the same.

Alpha Thanks,
BetaMom