Yoni Meets JoJo

Well, her mom, really.

We lived in Los Angeles for 6 fun-filled years from 2014-2020. For the first year, my husband, Yoni, lived in Miami so he could finish research for his PhD and I lived with our then 2 year-old in the last affordable apartment in Beverly Hills (sidebar: when we lived in the 2 bedroom, 1200 sq. ft. Apartment we paid $2400/month. 3 months after we moved out, they rehabbed the place and put it back on the rental market for $4700/month. There were no amenities such as pool, doorman, or even renovated elevators. F*cking LA). Annnnnnnnywho, we eventually had another kid and moved to the Valley cause that’s what 2 educators with 2 kids do. Encinitas became our home for 5 years. We hopped around to apartments due to school districts and/or landlords selling our rentals while we still lived in them. We made a lot of wonderful friends in mostly with the parents of our oldest kiddo’s friends. Encino is a random place to live. It’s bisected by Ventura Blvd and, of course, income. The south side of Ventura is where celebrities lived like Nick and Vanessa Lachey, Pete Wentz, and Allison Hannigan lived and where Michael Jackson had a house for years and years. The other side of Ventura is where the regular civilians lived. Of course, we still paid dumb money for our civilian apartments and houses and there were definitely pockets of crazy big houses on our side too but they were few and far between. I ALWAYS felt very aware of our place on the socioeconomic scale living in Encino, especially when Siona had play dates or was invited to birthday parties at the homes of her friends from these areas. For example, after one particular 5 year-old birthday party in which there were 4-5 nail technicians and hairstylists present for the salon themed party, Siona came home and asked, “Mommy, why don’t we have a big chandelier in our house?” Don’t get me wrong, we were absolutely fine and blessed. It’s my grubby a** that had to deal with my own issues around never feeling satisfied with what I have. But that’s not the point of this post.

The most famous of neighbors in our area was JoJo Siwa. If you don’t know who that is or weren’t subjected to her “music”, consider yourself blessed. JoJo got her start on dance moms and progressed to teeny bopper stardom via Nickelodeon and the YouTube. Because her rise in fame correlated with our oldest’s early elementary years, we were flush in JoJo. Hell, I even went to one of her concerts with my kid, some of their friends, and their equally overwhelmed moms. Siona sat on my lap the whole show, mouth agape, in awe or horror. Could easily have been both. My primary emotion during that show was horror. Regardless, JoJo was an Encino resident and she or her parents used to drive around the hood in a Tesla or BMW with her name and picture spray painted all over it. I shit you not. Here’s what we’d see tooling down Ventura:

It was a lot but my girls loved her so when one of my mom friends discovered where she lived, I obviously asked for the address so I could drive the girls passed her house. My friend sent it along and I forgot about it for several weeks until Siona had a play date at this friend’s house. At this point we had 3 kids so getting one out of the house and at a play date was a gift from God. When it came time to pick her up, I texted my husband to see if he could grab her on his way home from work. “Sure”, he said. “Send me the address.” Send him the address I did and it was roughly 45 minutes later when I got a call from him. Here’s how that went:

Yonz: “Whit. She’s not at the house but JoJo Siwa was.”

Me: “Yon, what are you talking about?”

Yonz: “Well, hon, I drove up to the house you sent me to and knocked on the door. I was confused because this house didn’t look familiar. Then some strange woman with a yippy dog opened the door and I simply said, ‘I’m here for my daughter????’ That’s when everything around me came into focus — the cars in the parking lot, the personalized basketball hoop — you sent me to JoJo Siwa’s house.”

Ok, yes, I had accidentally sent him to the last address my friend texted me instead of that friend’s actual address BUT, in my defense, it took him way too long to realize whose house he was at. I mean, personalized cars parked out front and generally looks like some version of this even if it wasn’t Christmas:

Anyway, we’re in Michigan for our beloved friends’ wedding. It’s the first wedding our kids have ever been to and the best I’ve felt I’ve looked in ages so I’mma post a pic of me and my love bug hubby. Stay cool folks and don’t forget to double check the address you send your husband for a play date pick up. Could be a YouTube star.