Jenny Isenman

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I’m a humor columnist, on-air lifestyle expert, Host of The Jenny Isenman Show on Cafe Mom, and a proud mama of two. I’m also a cellulite/wrinkle obsessed, pop-culture junkie and card carrying Gen Xer (oh, they have cards). I’m known as Jenny from the Blog at my site The Suburban Jungle. I guarantee that reading it will make you tanner, smarter, and reduces cellulite. Well, at the very least, it’ll make you more literate. 


Sipping on:

Venti Non-Fat Latte ... oh, and an Iced Green Tea (to negate the bad effects of the coffee)

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    The other day I was watching one of those commercials for some medication, where a bee or a butterfly or a ladybug tells me how to get more sleep or be less depressed -- and after the obligatory listing of what said drug may cause, I realized I already have most of those side effects, simply from being a parent. 

    Which is why I’m suggesting kids come with a warning label ... you know, so there are no surprises? Maybe we could redesign those generic hospital blankies into big soft yellow swaddlers with a list on the back in bold black writing and send new parents home with one. 

    I think it should say something like this:  

    Warning, Children May Cause ... 

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    Not too long ago, I turned 40...

    I was telling a friend that I'd be willing to trade in my Gen X status for that of a 30-year-old hipster who wears black-rimmed glasses (for statement, not vision, purposes). Then, I'd never have to admit that I spent the Saturday nights of my childhood hoping beyond hope that Charo would be the surprise guest on The Love Boat or that somehow, Shari and Lambchop would find themselves in an eerie episode of Fantasy Island where Shari was the puppet. (What, I'm the only one who wished for that story line? I think not.)

    No, I wouldn't know a lot of things like, the pain of seeing Chachi marry Joanie or the name of my first Cabbage Patch Kid or the "awesome" effects of Sun-In, had I not been a poster child for Generation X. Things like this:

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    The Work At Home Mom (WAHM), is like devil spawn of a Stay-at-Home (SAHM) and a working mom. Though many people think it's ideal (I do), it comes with a shocking amount of guilt, a penchant for procrastination and a sprinkle of self loathing. I know, I'm making it sound awesome, right?

    We have no actual schedule and no other people in "the office" for motivation, and we have constant feeling that we need to be accomplishing many things at once to be productive - like mulitasking on crack, which is why WAHMs have a lot in common. 

    If you're thinking of us in short shorts and high sweat socks, then you're thinking of WHAM and that's a different article, though I do write a lot about being obsessed with the 80s.

    That said, I thought I would make a list of traits, thoughts and occurrences most WAHMs have thought said or done:

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    I've written many tales about some of the weird stuff I've said to my kids over the years, from "Please stop smelling the cat" to "We keep our pants on in public" to "Gum you find under tables is not 'free' gum." As strange as those phrases are, they never even fazed me when I said them. In fact, they made perfect sense at the time.

    I remember having to constantly ask my daughter, Ry, to stop licking me. Until then, that request had been reserved for our puppy. Looking back, it appears there are quite a few similarities between toddlers and puppies, odd phrases included.

    Either I've just crossed that fine line into insanity or this comparison is kinda brilliant, you be the judge. Here are 28 ways puppies and toddlers are similar:

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  • LOL

    25 Simple Ways to Annoy Your Tween

    posted by Jenny Isenman February 21 at 3:49 PM in Big Kid
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    When your child hits tweenhood, everything becomes bothersome, especially you. All the injustices of the world are highlighted with eye-rolls, grunts, and blank stares. 

    I'm taking advantage of this time by being extra annoying. For instance, when I'm sitting in the garage waiting for J, my 12-year-old son, to exit the house, I watch the door intently. As soon as he cracks it open, I beep. J startles, without fail, and glares at me as if I've done something unforgivable, like smashed his Beats or released all the remaining Axe body spray from the can.

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