February 21st, 2014 9:45 PM GMT+5
For the past year and a half, my dress code has been:
- Either jeans or yoga pants that may or not have been washed after previous wear.
- Drip-dried hair brushed once in the morning before ending up in a clip most likely designed for potato chips.
- 5-minute (half-assed) makeup. On the days we attend art or music class. Sometimes other days.
So when I had to look presentable for three consecutive days this past week, it was exhausting. How the hell did I do it before Em was born!?! On Tuesday, we took a tour of that Montessori school whose deadline I thought we had passed. Luckily, the admissions counselor allowed us to do a Wednesday classroom observation and submit an application. Admission is a long shot, but I’m just glad we didn’t miss the opportunity to apply…
But I digress! Tuesday and Wednesday morning, I got up early, showered quickly, slapped on makeup, flat-ironed my hair and put together a quick outfit (Spanx, heels and all!)
On Thursday, I went into my office. I’m going in every Thursday morning now with the ultimate plan to go four mornings each week when Em attends school. I’m being asked to do five, but I think four is all I want to do. After almost three years of motherhood, the idea of three free hours during a week takes on an ethereal mystique . Even if I spend that time running errands or cleaning, it seems so serene. Plus, if kiddo numero dos comes into existence, I’ll need that time for doctor’s appointments, resting and panicking at the thought of impending sleep deprivation.
Following this week’s office stint, I booked it home to relieve my awesome in-laws and began prepping dinner, packing Emme’s bag, taking care of clients and rushing kiddo off to the doctor when she awoke from her nap. The second we got home, I made her food and cooked dinner while tidying up the house. How the hell full-time working moms do it is beyond me.
So when art class was our sole agenda today, I slapped on my bootcut jeans, donned blingy flip flops and put my hair in a Half Up bun.
February 14th, 2014 1:17 PM GMT+5
For the most part, kiddo is a mild mannered, well behaved, loving little girl with a great disposition and amazing sense of humor.
But then she remembers to be two. Take this past Wednesday…
Emme pushes her beloved Grandpa-built helper tower to a cabinet. The helper tower allows Emme to belly up to the kitchen counter when making lunch or watching mom cook. But Emme has found a new use for surmounting obstacles, like when I say “No, you cannot have (whatever object she intends for creating mass collateral damage).”
I catch Emme in the act, thwarting any devious plans to score bubbles, beads or barware. Emme refuses to confess her intended target. I am forced to take preventative measures.
Emme shares her displeasure with my heavy-handed twine-foolery.
Emme retreats, cheerfully allowing me to ready her for music class. Then, she remembers she wants to wash her hands. And by “wash her hands,” she means stand on a step stool playing in the water and “checking out the sink.” She will ultimately lose it as I count to 10, the point at which we are done playing. The stool must go. Emme protests with an advanced tantrum tactic: the S’no Angel.
The end. For now….until I do something else to tick her off.
Like putting a pillowcase on her pillow.
February 13th, 2014 9:43 PM GMT+5
During this Mercury Retrograde, I…
- Clogged the disposal requiring a plumber’s visit
- Stockpiled laundry for 5 days because of a busted dryer heating coil (luckily, Dan fixed it, requiring no repairman fee$)
- Had a low tire warning that had to be redressed during a cold rain
- Grated my thumb instead of butter
- Burned myself cooking…three times
- Botched a deadline for a potential preschool by missing the mandatory pre-application tour. Em didn’t have a good chance of getting in, because it’s a very small school within a tight knit community. But, still, I really wish I’d met the deadline. That said, you can bet I’ll be the first application in for the 2015-16 school year.
And we’re only one week in.
But Mercury Retrograde isn’t completely ominous. While it’s a hellacious time to buy big ticket items or start major projects, it’s a great time for several things like tackling unfinished business. So that’s what I’m trying to do by…
- Scheduling a structural engineer consult for our ever-settling pier & beam house
- Arranging for our weather-beaten front doors to be sanded and painted this weekend
- Making punch lists for future projects (to be started post-Mercury Retrograde
- Staving off unnecessary dramarama
- Reconnecting with old friends
- Organizing, organizing, organizing
- Getting back to my Power90
- Thanking the cosmos for listening to me last week when I made a work-related wish that came true. Wahoo!
The one thing that has me worried is an impending car service appointment. I always get nervous that the dealership will uncover a costly repair requiring immediate attention on my now 7-1/2 year old Felix.
I’m going to pull a Little Engine That Could and repeat the mantra “$30 to inspect! $30 for spiffy brakes! Other money they will not take!!!”
Yeah, and maybe I should add ” watching less Thomas and Friends” to my list…
February 6th, 2014 11:08 PM GMT+5
I am a danger to myself.
In the kitchen.
Here is the proof:
Do they make Ove Glove bodysuits?
February 2nd, 2014 10:31 PM GMT+5
I plan the following week’s menu and grocery list every Friday. I completely forgot this was Super Bowl Sunday.
So instead of gumbo, chili, hamburgers or something equally footballin’, I made pot roast and garlic-rosemary roasted potatoes. Meat and potatoes. That’s so…American! Um, like football. And every damn thing else advertised during the Super Bowl…
Which brings me to why we have the Super Bowl: commercials! One word sums up the 2014 roster: disappointment. The ad agencies sunk to a new low this year, relying on lowest common denominator: patronizing patriotism. Everything was “truly American” and “yay for the troops.” Here were the other lowlights:
- Masarati wins most wasted money. Those who buy Masaratis do not do so based on television commercials. Who the hell sees a Masarati commercial and thinks “Yeah, I was gonna buy a Honda, but I think I’ll buy one of those instead!”
- Subway thought it was a good idea to have health conscious Olympians push a cheese-covered, Frito-stuffed sandwich? Ridiculous.
- Axe Peace mocking global despots? Incredibly naive and stupid.
My only kudos go to TMobile’s commercials: one featuring Tim Tebow and the other with just text. Both were brilliantly crafted means of conveying the desired message. That ad agency earned every dollar of its fees.
But what’s even better than the commercials? THE HALF-TIME SHOW!!! Well, okay, not always… but this year it was! I’m biased, because I adore all things Bruno Mars. I loved his energy and tone. And while I was bummed to see the RHCP were co-headlining, their limited appearance was perfect. Why the RHCP hate? I haven’t recovered from the horrific radio and MTV overplay that “Under the Bridge” got in the 90′s. Every time that song came on, I wanted to jump off a bridge.
In the end, I enjoyed the game. I was routing for the Seahawks, because they have the inspirational Derrick Coleman as well as the key winning indicator: better uniforms than the Broncos. While there was no contest whatsoever, I appreciated the football this year and did not mind it interrupting my commercials and half-time show.
I would’ve appreciated a good fight or two among impassioned competitors, but that’s okay.
That’s what Olympic figure skating is for.