Why Gwyneth and I will never be BFF's

I'm just going to begin by saying that I really, really try hard to not judge others.  I truly do.  The person playing their guitar outside the liquor store.  That Mother semi losing it on her children over there.  The squigee kid on the corner.  The unfriendly supermarket cashier that barely looked at me as she scanned my groceries while I semi lost it on my boys who wouldn't stop kicking each other.  Even celebrities.  Yes.  I even try not to judge celebrities.  I was saddened by the Britney Spears fiasco.  The Charlie Sheen dramatics were disturbing to me because it was clear he was not 'winning' anything.  Maybe he really was drinking tiger blood but it sure as hell must've been spiked with a whole lotta something else. Angelina Jolie...well that was a really, really difficult period because she stole my husband and then went on to have 12 kids.  That hurt.  Then there's Gwenyth Paltrow.  Though it seemed like all the Mommy bloggers hate her for...I don't know....feeding her kids too much organic kale and quinoa?  Whatever.  I actually enjoy her cook book, though it seems she does go a  bit overboard on the agave nectar or whatever the it's called.  It's no substitute for sugar in my books so I won't be making her brownies.  Ever.

Besides Gwen's over usage of agave syrup or nectar or whateverthehellitscalled I actually liked her.  I've seen her on Oprah.  She seemed pretty cool. Amusing even. I didn't understand why (a lot) of other people didn't.

Okay.  So that cupping thing was a little alarming.

Odd.  And a lot unattractive.
Gwyneth my dear...what were you thinking?!

Oh and that crazy awful diet she did where all you eat is grass, barley and dandelions and heinous untasteful things like that?  I wouldn't last 5 minutes on that.  And neither would my marriage.  It's just not healthy to be that healthy you know what I mean?

I found myself flipping through the latest In Style magazine, in sweet sweet peace, away from my darling little spawns at the lovely lady's home that does my hair once a year or so and since I quite like G.P. (as only Mario Batali and I refer to her of-course) and since I only question some of her decisions (like naming her daughter after a fruit and her son Moses...then again I'm named after a month so who am I to judge...though technically - not my fault) I stopped flipping to read an interview with her.

There I was enjoying being able to read an entire magazine article without having to referee my children, cook dinner and let the dog out because she's barking, when she had to pause the interview (according to the article) to attend to her daughter.  She returned back and said these words, "She's cross because I only let them watch TV in French or Spanish," Paltrow said of her daughter Apple "When I'm in France, I go to [Boulevard] Beaumarchais and buy all their cartoons." 

My eyes rolled so far back in my head that it actually pained me.  I totally judged her on those two extremely hoity toity sentences.  

You know where I go for my boys cartoons? 

The PBS channel.  

And Walmart.

And then I got really sad.

Because all my dreams of her and I sipping on a chilled glass of white wine while enjoying her fried zucchini pasta (which is quite delicious btw) with our adorable little ones frolicking around her palatial home in England went whooooosh out my sticky finger printed back patio door.  Clearly learning Spanish from Dora and Diego is not sophisticated enough for my former BFF, Gwen.  Though I'll have you know my boys fluently speak the basics.  

Hola, abuela, arriba, gracias and amigos.  

And they can count to three in Spanish too.  I mean, come on now.  That's pretty awesome.

So sadly, I must bid our fake friendship adieu because Gwyneth, though you may be a very nice person, you are just too good for us.  And that's really too bad. You really are missing out on what could be a most fulfilling, fun, down to earth friendship.

 I'm kind of a big deal too you know.

At least my kids believe that anyway.