"My Blog"

Want Your Kids To Read This Summer?
Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Are your kids suffering from “summer slide”? Mine are.

My teen’s been great and reads voraciously every day. But my little ones? All I hear is “It’s summer! Don’t make us work!” and “Mommmmmmmmmm…you’re not supposed to READ over the summer!”

And part of me wants to oblige. Summer should be a time of fun and no-stress, right? But why can’t reading be fun? Why do kids always think of reading as a chore? I personally love the idea of falling into a hammock with a good book and a tall iced tea. And I wouldn’t move for the entire day if I didn’t have to get up to pee every now and then.

I can tell you that as an author, making my books ‘fun’ is a top priority for me. I want my readers to enjoy reading and I know I’m not alone. So why is getting our kids to read over the summer so hard?!

Well here’s a fantastic article titled “What You Should REALLY Do  If You Want Your Kids To Read This Summer” on HuffingtonPost.com by Katie Hurley, a prominent child and adolescent psychotherapist and parenting expert, about ways to make summer reading more fun. (Achem…she mentions how much she and her kids love “Livi” and the new ON MY WAY TO SCHOOL book! Just saying…).

Give it a read and make some room for your little ones in that hammock.

Kids Away? Time To Play!
Monday, July 14, 2014
Enjoy an adult beverage? Don't mind if I do! There will be no carpool or soccer practice tonight...

Me and Scott – enjoying a Mai Tai

As a displaced East Coaster in LA, I am constantly shocking friends and fellow moms with tales of how my parents sent me and my big  sister to sleep away camp halfway across the country…for the entire summer.

As typical, delusional, self-centered young ‘uns, we were SURE our parents missed us. A lot. But now that it’s my turn to send my kids to camp, I’m realizing…um, maybe not so much.

Got kids away at sleepaway camp like I do? Whether it’s for 2 weeks or 2 months, check out my latest story on TODAY.com, 11 Things Parents Should Do While The Kids Are At Camp about how to make the most of this child-free time. (Got some good ideas of your own? Spill please!)

And if you need me, I’ll be on my balcony drinking a margarita.

My Evil Nemesis Returns
Wednesday, June 18, 2014

My Evil Nemesis has just crossed the line.

There is this really fat squirrel who lives in the bushes outside my house and we’ve been at odds since last year’s fig harvest. My fat furry ‘friend’ has a penchant for fresh figs and last fall when our Black Mission Figs ripened on our fig tree it became a daily fight to see who would get the juiciest figs.

What really annoys me is he’s discerning.

He won’t just grab any fig from the tree. No. He waits it out. Watches them ripen. Just like me. Both of us watching. Waiting. Delaying gratification until it’s just the right moment for picking.

Sometimes I’ll even leave a fig overnight thinking “it needs one more day to be perfect” only find it plucked from the tree and discarded on the stairway the next morning. A half-eaten figgy carcass left behind to taunt me. Occasionally, I get to the fig first. And I’ll see him. Sitting on his furry ass in the middle of the driveway twitching his vibrant and incredibly fluffy tail (the result of being well-nourished) and giving me the evil eye.

I considered running him over with my car.

And now the summer figs are coming in again (they are the harvest before the good ones in the fall) and he’s trying to gorge himself. I see him, testing the figs for ripeness. Making his move before I can get to them. Unfortunately, because they’re not very good yet he leaves the partially ‘tasted’ figs all over the stairway. He’s plucking, sniffing, and obviously scoffing – littering the stairway to my home with rejected figs. Reminding me, “it’s ON!”

But now the line has been crossed. There have been casualties. Yesterday, Ben slipped on a fig and fell down the stairs.  Luckily, he’s fine. But it’s clear the battle has escalated as the squirrel is taking out my family members.

It’s war. And he’d better watch out ’cause I have a full tank of gas.

Spring Cleaning (or, “Do you really need this Pony?”
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Spring cleaning’s a b*tch… 
As I set upon the task of dealing with piles of papers, Sharpie-covered school portfolios packed with every piece of work my children have produced over the entire school year, and old Halloween candy, I thought I’d share one of my worst Spring Cleaning experiences ever. Who can relate?
“Spring Cleaning: Do You Really Need This Pony?”
My boyfriend and ex-husband staged an intervention this weekend.
They lured me into the playroom outside with promises of “it’s nothing bad…” and “you’ll like it!”  As I entered the playroom, my mom (who was in from NY) blocked my retreat.”Sarah.  You can’t live like this.”  Said my mom.”You have to get rid of all of this crap!”  Said my boyfriend.”You’re setting a bad example for the kids.”  Said my ex-husband who was wearing a 30 year old striped mock turtleneck from the 80′s.

I surveyed the room.  It was filled floor to ceiling with puzzles, incomplete race car tracks, wooden blocks, infant puzzles, Barbies, Barbie dwellings, and enough Barbie accessories (plane, RV, remote cars, beds, tables, chairs, evening gowns and shoes) for her to colonize a small planet with her fellow Barbies. (Ken can dream…)

They were right.  Something needed to be done.  I just didn’t want to be the one to do it.

I don’t know why I have such a hard time with organization and throwing stuff away.  I actually love to be organized.  I love the equipment you can buy to get organized. I love the containers you can use to keep you organized.  I love the concept of having all of my stuff put in special places so that it’s always ready and available to me the moment I need it!  Unfortunately, I just never know what to put where, or what to get rid of, in order to achieve that beautiful zen-like state other people achieve – you know the one…the one where you can actually see the desk under the boxes and papers.

I get attached to stuff.  Ridiculous stuff.  Like a small silk flower that came with a present from some guy for some reason I don’t even remember, but I assume that since I’ve kept it this long, it must be important.  I have letters from friends from sleepaway camp (from when I was, like, 9), I have every picture I’ve ever taken – even if it’s out of focus – and I recently discovered my Girl Scout sash – complete with all of my hard-earned patches (music, sewing, cooking, ice skating…), many of which still had pins in them so my mom could sew them on at a later date when she “had a minute” (let’s not even discuss the fact that my mom put PINS through my patches and sent me out like that – exposed sharp tips and all – she didn’t even attempt to tuck them through the fabric to protect me…Aaaaahhhhh, the 70′s….)

But this weekend I was forced to face the boxes and boxes and boxes (and boxes) of archived, abandoned and broken toys that reminded me of my children at varying stages of childhood.  And I had to throw it away.  It was not easy.

“Awww…look at this My Little Pony – it’s Rainbow Dash!  This was Izzy’s favorite!”

“It has no mane and no tail.”  Scott pointed out.

“It was so cute.  She would bring it in the tub…then she gave it a haircut…”

“…and you are getting rid of it.”

I handed over the bald pony.  Along with half a Pony dance studio, the ticket booth for Butterfly Beach and Pony cakes, flatware and hairbrushes to tame the no-longer flowing locks of 80% of the Ponies.

We tossed an Easy Bake oven we never used, a dead Rock Band guitar, dolls, and Brueder trucks I had kept if only to rationalize spending the crazy money for them.  “Those are GREAT trucks!  Do you have any idea how expensive they were?  Maybe Ben’s kids will want them.”

“Honey…your own kids don’t want them.  They’re getting tossed.”  Scott can be so cold.

“Sarah, what’s this?”  My Ex stood up from behind an electronic keyboard and stand I hadn’t seen since we’d moved in.  He held up a hat box filled with baby caps and bonnets.

“Those were the kids’ hats.”

“Do they fit?”

“No.”

“Then we’re giving them away.”

“Wait!!!!”  I jumped over a pile of plastic food, nearly twisted my ankle on a cabbage and grabbed the hat box away from him.  I went through the hats and bonnets holding up each one, remembering the tiny toothless faces that went under them.  “Awwwww…….Remember Livi in this?”  I held up a green bonnet with ruffled fringe.  “She looked like a Pilgrim.”

“Sarah, get rid of it.”  Said my Ex.

“Sarah, step away from the hat box” said Scott.

“Sarah, there are children in Africa without hats.” said my Mom.

“Really?  You’re going with that?”

She gave me a look that told me she had wished my three kids upon me – and not in a good way.

Together, they got me to stop reminiscing about every item I touched and to clear away all of the toys we no longer use.  Duplo blocks, Barbies, race tracks, anything Elmo…

We put the usable ones out on the lawn and hoped that people would take them.  In LA, stuff on the lawn is like gold.

The room looks gorgeous and my kids were bouncing around it saying “This is AWESOME!” and “We have SOOOOOOOOO much room now!” AND “it’s not embarrassing anymore!”

We set up areas for each kid and on their shelves – in plain view – are the toys they play with.  It’s lovely.

They tell me the next project will be my office.  As it stands, I don’t write in my office.  I can’t.  It’s filled with stuff.  But I would love to be able to use it, so I’m accepting their help.

But if anyone tries to throw out my Girl Scout sash, it could get ugly.

Get the Gift of MILF (and LOL fun) for Mother’s Day!
Friday, May 2, 2014

Yes, it’s shameless self-promo but I just wanted to remind everyone that you still have 10 Days left to GIVE THE GIFT OF MILF to a Mom you love for #MothersDay!

 

“Got MILF is an empowering book for moms, told from Maizes’ point of view… It was refreshing to see Maizes take a derogatory term, turn it on its head, and take it in a positive direction.”  -MarieClaire.com                              

A funny look at modern-day motherhood with tons of tips and “aha” moments. …In short, laugh more, stress less, and … get your nails done? Well, yeah!” -Vitamin G blog, Glamour

“Sarah Maizes’ pioneering study seems destined to revolutionize the filed of MILFology.” – David Javerbaum, former EP, “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart”

LOL humor, empowerment, AND cute packaging??!!! (all UNDER $15 bucks????) How can you resist??!!! 

Just click on the book below to order your copy from Amazon today!

 

JOIN ME at “Listen To Your Mother” in Santa Ana on April 27th!
Monday, April 14, 2014

I am so excited and honored to be a part of the  cast of the “Listen To Your Mother” show at the Ebell Club in Santa Ana, CA on April 27th at 4pm!

I can’t reveal what you’re going to hear at the show, but I CAN tell you that the stories by my fellow cast members – Ciaran Blumenfeld, Cheryl Rosenberg, Jessica Gottlieb, Debbie Anderson, Kristi Gilbert, G.G. Benitez, Angela Saldana Camacho, Julie Chrisianson Gardner, Marcela Amiune, Jenny Feldon, Jo Ashline and Katherine Kotkin – are truly (and I am NOT just saying this!) WONDERFUL!!!! I laughed my *ss off, I was rocked to my core, and HOLY CRAP, I cried!!!!

Come see what The New York Times, The Washington Post, Huffington Post and NBC News raved about! (and support some great causes while doing it!)

If you enjoy an evening (or late afternoon) of stories that will touch your soul and remind you that you’re not alone on this journey called “motherhood” please come and join us as we share our stories. I promise you it will be a night to remember.

“Listen to Your Mother,” giving Motherhood a microphone. BUY YOUR TICKETS HERE

I hope to see you there!

 

 

My Kids Have Balls
Monday, April 7, 2014

My kids have balls.

Lots of balls.

And we can never locate any of them because we also have really bad aim.

Once I was trying to play basketball with my (then 6 year old) son in our driveway.  He had no skills.  No skills whatsoever.  Which is unfortunate because his father is 6’5″ and is an awesome basketball player.  But as  a single mom it was up to me to teach him. Which added to his unfortunate circumstances because my hook shot ain’t so good…and I don’t really know the rules…and I break for naps.

So, we were outside playing a little “one-on-one” and it goes well for about 10 minutes.  He’s learning to dribble and he’s pretty darn fast.  I couldn’t even get the ball away from him.  I begin to think there’s potential there.  Then he goes in for the shot.  The ball FLIES over my head and lands in the trees behind the net.

“That’s okay” I tell him. and I go to get a broom to poke it out.

I come back with the broom.

As I’m looking up at the tops of the tight border of trees that line the driveway behind our net I notice not only our recently lost ball, but like 12 other balls stuck up in the canopy of the trees.

“What’s with all these balls you guys?”

“What?”  They run over to look up into the line of trees.

There are a million of ‘em up here! (exaggeration is a family trait…) Did you know this?”

They laugh.  “Yeah.”

I poke at one and try to dislodge it.  Two balls fall on my head.

This is hilarious to them.

I continue to poke around.  “I’ve been wondering where all our balls were.  Did anyone ever think to try to get them out? ”

“We couldn’t.”

“The question is, did anyone try?”

“Not really.”  Why am I surprised.  “I don’t know how.”  Says Ben.  “Let’s blow up another one.”

“No!  Balls cost money!  We’re going to use the balls we have!”  I shake the trees and more balls dislodge and pelt me.  Leaves fall into my hair and down my shirt.  A few get stuck in my cleavage.  I think I just pissed off a spider.

Ben and Livi are laughing at me because I’m shaking trees, poking with a broom and I have leaves all over me.

A tiny red hackey sack ball falls out of the tree canopy and pings me on the shoulder.  I’m annoyed now.

As the balls fall out, the kids pick them up and start trying to throw more baskets – resulting in the balls going right back, up and over the backboard and lodging in the trees again.

“Stop you guys!  We’re going to lose them all again!”

Obviously, this is just one big vicious cycle.

“Let’s just blow up new ones.”

“We’re not blowing up new ones.  We have a ton of balls!  You’re using what we have.”

I keep poking at the trees.  I manage to get 7 or 8 balls out.  A few are beyond my reach and I give up.

I line up my “harvest” on the driveway.  “Here you go.  Balls.  Try not to lose them.”

“YAY!”  They start shooting baskets again and the balls go in every direction including up and over the backboard…into the trees.  They’re not even TRYING to aim!  Unbelievable.

Yup.  My family has balls.  And if you ever doubt it, I can show you just where we keep ‘em.

 

 

The Bunny Song
Thursday, April 3, 2014

Out in Westhampton at “Gramcracker’s” (what we call my mom) there are bunnies everywhere. One day my girl wrote this little ditty in the car on the way to get some bagels:

Bunny, bunny, bunny, bunny
Bunny, bunny, bun…
Might have rabies…
We don’t know…
Bunny, bunny, bunny, bunny, bun…

Download it on iTunes today and get her single “Scratchin’ don’t make the itch go ‘way” for free.