This post is sponsored by Kraut Rocks I've written about the semi-complicated process of sponsored posts. I love them, I need them, I also kind of fear them because I tend to overthink them. What if the client hates it? What if you guys hate it? Cue the self-doubt-fueled writer's block gaaaaahhhhhhhhh. But then sometimes a sponsored post comes along that involves hanging out with an old friend, gossiping, drinking beer and cooking mussels and hot dogs and sauerkraut over an open flame on a bar counter wait WHAT. There's a month-long sauerkrautaganza going on in D.C. right now called Kraut Rocks. Top Chef's Spike Mendolsohn is the host and several other local chefs are featuring their take on sauerkraut on their menus. I was asked to write a post about it. Amy's Mouth: Sure! Why not? Amy's Brain: Why not? You mean other than the little fact that you don't particularly like sauerkraut? Amy's Wallet: QUIET, YOU FOOL. At first I thought maybe I would do a cooking demonstration of my own, or we could visit one of the participating restaurants and photograph me attempting to gain a new appreciation of sauerkraut the superfood, but then when I saw... Read more →

I believe I have made my feelings about the zoo known already. Several times, in fact. Wait, here's one more. So going to the zoo yesterday was the very definition of insanity, or completely understandable because my in-laws were visiting and getting out of the house is unbelievably critical because otherwise we all sit around while my mother-in-law helpfully folds my underwear in the living room and my father-in-law watches his laptop defrag for a couple hours. Not this time, I decided. So help me God, we will go to the fucking zoo and like it. CAN YOU NOT SENSE OUR COLLECTIVE JOY? WAKE ME UP WHEN AMERICA REALIZES THAT PANDAS ARE THE MOST BORING ANIMALS EVER. Noah and Ezra, to their credit, had less than zero interest in those dumb overrated pandas anyway. They wanted snakes. Lots of snakes. Are we at the snakes yet? Yeah, elephants, okay, whatever, OH DEAR GOD PLEASE TAKE US TO THE SNAKES. Amy: If I'd known they were that into snakes we coulda just stayed home and sent 'em into the basement with a shovel and some flashlights. Jason: A...shovel? Amy: I don't know. It just sounded right. Wiffle bats, maybe? We spent... Read more →

We spent the weekend -- the entire weekend, for reasons I cannot remember -- going places and doing things with and for the kids. All three of 'em. SPOILER ALERT: Going places and doing things sucks. On Friday we hauled everyone to the movie theater for Cars 2. (The boys loved it. LOVED IT! And I did not completely hate it! And the screaming baby in the theater did not belong to me! A victory all around, except for the part where we got out the door so incredibly late that popcorn had to count as everyone's dinner.) On Sunday we went to the pool. (I wore a bikini! That nobody saw, because I did not take the maternity dress I wore as a cover-up off for even a single minute. I sat in the shade and held the baby for a secondary layer of postpartum-belly-camouflage.) And wedged in between: Saturday. Oh, my heavenly lord. On Saturday we trekked into DC proper for a big barbecue battle-slash-street-festival. I hoped to eat some decent ribs and have a beer or two; I spent the entire afternoon pushing a double stroller around the kiddie section of the event, which was far, far... Read more →

Or, I Was In The Very Front Row At A Lady Gaga Concert While Six Months Pregnant And All I Got Were Some Crappy Camera Phone Photos My ticket said NO CAMERAS, in very big capital letters. So I did not bring a camera, lest the Imaginary Authority Figures decided to yell at me. They DID yell, kind of, but not about the camera thing. Jason bought me these tickets way, waaaaay back last summer for our anniversary, and included a upgrade to a special Little Monsters package, which meant we got to get in before anybody else and snag the primo floor real estate up front. At first, this did not seem to be much of an upgrade at all, since it ALSO meant my friend* and I got to start standing up a full FIVE FREAKING HOURS before Lady Gaga actually came on stage. Five hours. Of non-stop standing up, minus exactly two incredibly hurried pee breaks. Not exaggerating. I can't even spend five hours SITTING down before I feel wiped out enough to move to full-on LYING down. Our spesul sort-of VIP status meant nothing to the event staff, however, who screamed at us repeatedly that if... Read more →

Don't Stand So Close To Me

Weirdest pregnancy symptom yet: Claustrophobia. Well, not even that, exactly. Kind of combination of a fear of crowds (demophobia!) combined with a violent knee-jerky reaction to invasions of my personal space. Like, if you accidentally bump into me in the grocery store aisle, don't be surprised if I start involuntarily shrieking and karate-chopping the shelves of soup cans. Jason noticed I seemed increasingly jumpy right from the start. I'm usually a big-time hugger, and very demonstrative and in-your-face with my compulsive need! For affection! Because I like you! Hi! Gimme a cuddle! Instead, ever since getting all knocked up, I would startle if he brushed into me and sort-of flailingly seek to extricate myself from bear hugs and whenever the boys would do their patented EVERYBODY PILE ON MOMMY couch trick I'd slither to the floor and escape, and not in a HA HA FUN MOMMY way. More of a BACK THE HELL OFF ME, YOU ANIMALS way. And then things got serious a few weeks ago, when I foolishly waited too long to head downtown for the Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear. I knew it would be bad, but not...that bad. I couldn't leave for the Metro until... Read more →

On Friday night, I went to a party. A non-kid-birthday, grown-up-fancy party! And I, of course, proceeded to act like a toddler the entire time. Part the First: I decide to wear my new shoes. I attempt to drive a stick shift in my new shoes. Six blocks and three stall-outs later, I kick them off and drive barefoot instead. Part the Second: I arrive early because I am a blogger of considerable influence who is also Internet-Friends with one of the VIP guests, Laura Bennett of Project Runway/Daily Beast/Your Local Bookstore . I bump into the person who invited me in the first place, give her an awkward hug of thanks...and accidently stomp on her bare feet with -- oh my God -- those stupid fucking shoes. Part the Third: I attempt to give Laura directions to the event via text message, belatedly realizing that my phone auto-corrected my mistyping of "Elm Street" into "Elmo Street." Part the Fourth: There was wine. It was free. Part the Fifth: Socialite/Professional Fancy Party Person Tinsley Mortimer was another VIP. Laura and I decide to get our picture taken with her. She's busy holding an interview, but we don't let that stop... Read more →

(This fucking economy, man. Hollywood is HUNGRY.) So last night I had the distinct privilege of being Linda's plus-one for the big! red blue carpet! premiere! of Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian. (The PR team in charge of the outing: "You have a blog too? That's adorable!") This is how we do big fancy movie premieres in DC, you guys: Port-o-potties as far as the eye could see. As we pulled up in our glamorous stretch limo short bus in front of the Air & Space Museum and a huge crowd of people who had apparently not figured out that the celebrities were already inside, I could barely contain my excitement and sudden terror about tripping on the bus steps and falling flat on my face. I did not fall down, which meant it was now time for the descent into increasingly embarrassing fameball douche behavior. "Smile, people in crowd who don't have tickets to get in! We're posting these on our MOMMYBLOGS!" (I cannot lie, though. Linda. Sundry! Seriously just as funny and wicked and potty-mouthed as you imagine, or at least desperately hope. Port-o-potty-mouthed. Between her sailorspeak and my tendency to worry out loud over... Read more →

So You've Gone & Left Your iPhone in a Bathroom Stall at Nationals Stadium

Some handy steps and pointers: 1) STOP TAKING YOUR PHONE INTO BATHROOMS ALREADY, ASSHOLE. 2) Call phone, repeatedly. Curse out the automatic voicemail messaging service lady. 3) Head to Guest Services and the Lost & Found. Blank when they ask you to describe the phone. "Uh. It's a phone? 'Bout this big? Grayish/blackish/silverish? Supercute photo of this here baby *gesture to baby asleep in your cleavage* as the wallpaper when you turn it on?" 3a) Blank even blanker when they ask you for a phone number in case the phone does turn up. Run outside to find husband and ask what the hell his cell phone number is. Get impatient while husband blanks and pulls out his phone to search for his own damn number. 4) Hike back to bathroom to check for phone one last time, completely missing the childish look of wonder on your son's face during the post-game fireworks, for which you waited through extra innings of complete boredom for and are now the assholes who have babies and preschoolers out in the city at 11 pm at night and ARE ALSO PHONELESS, THIS IS ALL THE FIREWORKS' FAULT SOMEHOW. 5) Inventory the contents of your phone.... Read more →

So Many Entries to Write, and Yet I Give You This

I am losing mah mind over here, people. You know it's bad when I start breaking out the phonetic Southern accent that I don't actually talk with. 1) My baby is SIX MONTHS OLD today. Six! Such a random number to get worked up about, I know, but six! Half a year! Totally in need of a long detailed entry about the state of every tiny little thing he does! But who is going to write that, I ask you. WHO? All my ghostwriters called in drunk. 2) Noah's evaluation with the school district is TOMORROW. At the crack of 9 o'clock. And I've got a whole entry about THAT percolating in my brain, in which I confess that the last couple weeks have actually been w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l and we've made a lot of great p-r-o-g-r-e-s-s and now I have NO idea what to expect from him tomorrow, like I think there might be a chance we get sent home with zero services and I think I might be okay with that, because seriously: w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l. But the minute I say all of that out loud I just know I will jinx everything and come home tomorrow feeling like a truck up... Read more →

The Life Less Documented

Funny thing about using this old laptop: I don't like using it, therefore I turn it off and put it down a lot. I wander away from it -- and the Internet -- in favor of shit like laundry or unloading the dishwasher or those-bananas-are-ripe-I-should-make-some-banana-bread-type whims. And while I doubt anybody is coming here to read about my super-extra-hot-damn-exciting life or anything, believe me when I tell you that WOW, this week has been boring. I've been boring. I've transcended boring. I've actually died of boredom and then risen from the dead to become boring's own personal messiah. Although last night Jason and I had a date night, and on the way home Jason was challenged to a fistfight on the Metro by a tweaked out meth head who thought it would be a good idea to start calling a fellow white dude the n-word and then scream I'M FIVE FOOT EIGHT, MOTHERFUCKER repeatedly until the next station stop, where Jason told him to get off and wait for him on the platform. "I'll be right there," he said. "And we'll go at it." The guy did, although his hopped-up excitement quickly turned to confusion as he watched the train... Read more →