Nina In New York: The Oscars Of Parenting

A lighthearted look at news, events, culture and everyday life in New York. The opinions expressed are solely those of the writer.
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By Nina Pajak

The Oscars were last night, and spoiler alert for those who DVR'd it: all the white nominees won.

As I was dozing off watching the broadcast, I began wondering what life would be like if the greatest moments from my year in parenting were honored and memorialized with a prestigious awards ceremony. I don't even think we'd need to change the award categories to make this thing happen. So without further ado, here are the big winners. I encourage you all to do this, too, because it isn't the least bit depressing or desperate or lonely at all so shut up.

Best Actress in a Drama: The award goes to my daughter, in a riveting performance as a person whose very essence and inner light is at stake if she is not granted permission to watch a cartoon on the iPad. Her commitment to the role is unparalleled, and though her work always gets the desired results, she continues to pursue and hone her craft. She is a true artist, fully deserving of this golden statuette. But still not of the iPad. Not until she cleans up her toys.

Best Sound Effects: I'm excited to present this award to all of my neighbors, above, beside, and to the other side. Their tireless efforts to stay up all night into the morning hours moving furniture, bowling, playing fetch with their pets, embarking on construction projects, practicing musical talents have not gone unnoticed. Though they were up against some tough nominees, like the people who go through the recycling bags at 1 a.m., the train conductors honking loudly an hour before my daughter's natural wakeup time, and my dog, who barks viciously at nothing after a particularly intense dream. But you know what? They've earned it this year. Give yourselves a hand.

Best Director: Oh my gosh, it's me! For my directorial work that day when I orchestrated the actions of no fewer than six individuals in three different zip codes in order to help out with a friends' kids while simultaneously accomplishing several errands and an on-time school pick-up. I'm so overwhelmed. I just wasn't expecting this. I could never have gotten here alone, of course. I want to thank my friends and family, as well as the inventors of a double-stroller that can accommodate two thirty-pound children. I'd also like to thank the good people of my neighborhood for allowing me to barrel through a busy sidewalk pushing roughly 100 pounds, stopping only occasionally to comment on how funny I looked. And I can't forget the good people at Starbucks, my local grocery store, and Apple for creating the iPad I used to get us through the day. Also, thanks to my dog, Gus, for pitching in with the babysitting when my attention was elsewhere. I love you all!

Best Supporting Actor in a Comedy: Husband, come on down! Your work keeping a straight face and pretending to be sympathetic while our child sobbed hysterically and flailed about on the floor because her stuffed baby bunny wouldn't hold a pacifier in her mouth was truly remarkable. You held it together, and you even added that nice touch of pretending to threaten to cancel our trip to the playground that day if she didn't eventually calm down and cut it out. Like you would ever shoot yourself in the foot by keeping her inside all day to prove a point! But you sold it, and she bought it, and it was a shining moment in our field this year. Congratulations, honey. I couldn't be prouder.

Best Production: This category is new one, and an exciting one at that. The best production of the year goes to . . . that time I took my daughter out to lunch after school and discovered in the restaurant bathroom that she had pooped out of her diaper and into the lining of her new tutu skirt! As I was taking it off, it got on the floor, she stepped in it, and then tracked it all over, at which point I began sweating and cursing and cleaning desperately, which cued her to get upset about the mess. She began hysterically crying and, for some reason, shoving her fingers into her mouth in some reflexive comforting move. Only she shoved them so far and emphatically that she gagged herself and threw up in her own hair. And somehow, after 20 minutes, and minus one tutu and a thousand paper towels and baby wipes, we still wound up sitting down and proceeding with our meal. To us, sweetie! And to many more productions to come. Only, not really. Please, let's do something else.

Nina Pajak is a writer living with her husband, daughter and dog in Queens. Connect with Nina on Twitter!