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November 27 What I Did During My Thanksgiving Vacation. By, Me.As you may have noticed, it’s been awhile since my last post. I guess I took the term ‘holiday’ seriously, and when I said no more writing, I meant no more writing!
This Thanksgiving holiday was a series of happenings, that’s for sure. I sort of got an early start in that I worked from home on Wednesday because Liv’s sitter took that day off. I was able to go to my daughter’s school’s Thanksgiving feast. Let’s just say that I was glad I had to chase the baby around the room so I had an excuse not to eat—nasty! Why is it that schools expect kids to eat healthy and clean their plates, but the food is not only inedible, it doesn’t even LOOK like it might be as it’s covered with gravy and all kinds of random crap? I wouldn’t eat it at 3 or 30. Blech. But Olivia, my baby, chowed down. She ate more mashed potatoes than the 4-year-old boys.
So that night I decide to make a pie…. that would be my first pie EVER. Kate and I went to the store and got all of the ingredients for a recipe I found on the Internet. It sounded easy enough. And, it was. Well, except I read the whole crust thing wrong. Apparently there are two versions of pies—the single crust or double crust—depending on the pie, obviously. I just looked at the first directions on the bag and inadvertently chose the double-crust version. Oops. Had to pull the pie out, put another crust in and bake it for five minutes, scoop the pumpkin filling out of the wrong pie crust and into the right pie crust…. You get the picture. Oh, and when I was making the filling I am doing the usual mom routine of trying to accomplish 3 things at once. With a baby at my ankles, Kate asking if I can wipe the paint off of her hands, I am trying to open a new jar of cinnamon. Well, it opens alright….. all over the cabinet, the floor, my shirt, and worst of all, the majority of it lands in the silverware drawer. Yep, I had to clean out the whole dang thing. It still smells like cinnamon when you open it, which I guess isn’t the worst thing ever.
Then I had trouble trying to get the middle of the pie to cook while not burning the edge of the pie crust. I mean, please…. can anything be easy? Well, yeah, I guess going to the grocery store and buying a pumpkin pie would be easy, right? But, the blonde genius that I am, I decide Betty Crockering it for an evening was a better option. Riiiiight…..So I get the pie to the Thanksgiving dinner. I walk in the kitchen and sitting on the dessert table are…. five pumpkin pies. I had also been asked to bring a pecan pie. I bought that one. There were three homemade pecan pies on the table. Essentially, every person there could have had their own pie. There was even a cherry pie and I think an apple… cookies, cake, etc. Why in the hell was I asked to bring a pie? Couldn’t I have just been in charge of ice or something? When it came down to it, I had a piece of the pie, Kate had a piece, and Hubbie had one bite b/c he doesn’t like pumpkin pie. I don’t know what the heck happened to the rest of the ONLY pie I will ever make again. I won’t go into the gory details of Thanksgiving. I will sum it up saying that we could have been in any random stranger’s house eating their food – it was so weird. It was hubbie’s mom’s year so we were at her boyfriend’s relatives’ house. Ummm, yeah, I think I got that right. I’d feel more at home in your house, trust me.
When we decide to leave our Thanksgiving strangers, I decide it’s time to decorate for Christmas and drag all of it out. I spent Thursday night and almost all day Friday after my spa morning decorating. Oh yeah, my spa morning. It was good, I guess… I mean, if you like facials in a bright, freakin’ room while Chatty Cathy talks about her sons, her holiday, the weather, Angelina and Brad, and tries to sell you every $50 skin cream known to mankind. Whatever happened a RELEAXING, QUIET facial and a spa that is a RETREAT? So then she shapes up my brows for me. It was the worst job ever. I mean, my four-year-old could have done a better job. It will take me three months to correct what she did. Isn’t SHE the one with the big magnifying mirror and overhead light? That’s why I pay her b/c it will look better due to the fancy schmancy tools she has! Geez Louise. So, onto the pedicure. It was OK except I had another Chatty Cathy. I held my People magazine up in front of my face as a sign I didn’t want to visit. She got the hint, eventually. Probably won’t go back to that particular spa. But, at least I had some me-time and did a little me-shopping, which is never a bad thing!
Back to the Christmas decorations What a pain in the ass that is. I’m almost ready for it to be over! Dragging it all out, looking for everything, realizing favorite items have broken, trying to keep your kids out of it – ugh. Oh, and the lights! I hate the lights. I would pay someone to put them up and take them down for me. The next tree we get will be pre-lit, guaranteed. I got it all up, and I guess it turned out OK. So then Hubbie decides that since our stairway is so prominent in this new house, we should have it wrapped in garland and lights. No problem. I head to Hobby Lobby to get the garland. Every freaking crazed woman in the Dallas was there, shoving each other to get to the Christmas decorations like they were the last available on earth. There was garland strung from here to Kingdom Come. Things were breaking left, right, and center. It was a madhouse. So I get a few strands that I think would coordinate well with our décor. I get home, pull it all out, and string the lights on. I begin to wrap the handrail. Mid-way, I realize I am SCRATCHING UP my dang handrail.
We had our stairway completely re-done when we moved into this house last spring. New carpet, new ballisters, and we re-stained all of the wood-work. And here I am scratching it up with Christmas garland. I unwound it and figured out a way to wrap a cloth around it first to protect the wood. That would have been a nice thought to have BEFORE I started the project….. Even so, the scratches are still there. It looks good, but it wasn’t worth it. Oh and then a strand of lights go out, so I have to re-string the lights. SIGH. I immediately hit the Bailey’s afterward.
Thank God for good friends. About that time, we had an impromptu get-together with my pal Alleycat and her husband. Our daughters, being besties, played dress up and everything else under the sun while we drank and talked. It was fun. I tried raspberry beer for the first time – I HIGHLY recommend it. (Dar, Lana are you listening?)
I made it a point NOT to over-do it on the drinking so that I could have a good Sunday. Basically, what that means, is that I didn’t wave a marshmallow stick around and yell “Order in the court!” or jump in the pool with all of my clothes on and other crazynuts things I’ve been known to do in the recent past. I can’t say the same for Hubbie…. he was quite the drinker Saturday night. So today we wake up and meet Alleycat, her hubbie, and their kids for Dim Sum. Now, I had never had, or is it been to, Dim Sum before. They go every Sunday. It was heavenly! So good – I will definitely be back. Yum. While we ate, Kate and her buddie danced around on a stage. A good time was had by all. Thanks for the invite Alleycat!
Got everyone home and settled in. Amazingly, my baby takes a two hour nap. So guess who else did as well? Yep! Mommy got a nice nap in today. It was awesome. I get up and start getting ready to cook and my heroic hubby says, “Don’t cook tonight. Let’s go out so we don’t have to make a mess.” Well, you don’t have to tell me twice. I already had my coat on. We went to a BYOB Italian place around the corner. It was delish. Even better, the kiddos went right to bed on time, leaving me time to write this extraordinarily long blog.
This should be a pretty good week. Two amazingly wonderful things occur this week that just make me giggle like a school girl. One, it’s hair week. I love, love hair week. A cut and highlight take place on Tuesday. Couldn’t be happier. And two, my housekeeper comes for the first time on Wednesday. YES! I finally got one. This weekend, I did not mop or scrub one toilet. Instead, I napped. It’s a Thanksgiving miracle!
I am attaching pictures to accompany this book, er I mean, blog. I mean, a story chronicling one’s Thanksgiving just isn’t complete without pictures, right?
(Oh the photo of the deer and snowman in my kitchen.... those are supposed to go outside but b/c we have a storm coming, Hubbie thought it best that they reside in my kitchen. So I thought it was funny that I have a skating snowman and feeding deer, all lit up, in my kitchen.... Just not something you see every day! Oh, and the picture of me.... hubbie took that on the way to Dim Sum. He had just told me a stupid joke and was trying to make me laugh.... just chronicling my experiences, one of which was Dim Sum. Gosh, I hope I'm spelling that right!)
Until next time, my dear, fellow blog dorks….. November 22 Cheater? You betcha.Like many before me, I too have stolen from Darlene. I am in a blech kind of mood. I am out of words. I used them all at work, I think. Plus, I have to finish the calendar project I have going on. I had the brilliant idea of giving everyone a calendar of the girls this year -- you know, the gift that keeps on giving. You can even customize the calendar for each person with birthdays, special sayings, etc. and also include your child's artwork. Except, um, I'm the one who has to put all of this stuff together. And as well all know, the Christmas clock is ticking. So, tonight's drink of choice is a smooth Sauvingon Blanc. The entertainment? Tivo'd Oprah, maybe, if I'm in the mood. Or possibly I'll watch The Wedding Date again. Did I mention I fell in love with Dermott Mulroney last weekend when I watched that movie? Well, I did. I believe an encore might be in order.
So, I know you are in such suspense to know all of the juicy details of my life. LOL. Here goes....
November 21 The Blank Screen of Death
Oh, the pressures of the blank screen. Yes, enemies come in all shapes and sizes. For some, it’s a competitor at work. Maybe it’s an ex-husband… or the reason he’s the ex—her. It could even be the nosy neighbor who reminds you at least once a week that you left your garage door up a little too long for his comfort level. (Who, me? He mumbles something about it attracting crime, blah, blah…)
I face a lot of blank screens in my job. This is my enemy, my nemesis. In fact, the Blank Screen of Death has been my enemy since high school when I started this career. You’d think if I dreaded it so much, I’d try something else that doesn't require a screen, like waitressing maybe. Oh, wait. I did that once. I was a waitress at Pizza Hut in high school. My first tip was 25 cents. And I remember polishing a lot of brass rails. And getting locked in the big freezer once. But that’s a blog for another day.
Back to blank screens. If I’m writing a story that interests me, beginning the lead isn’t that hard. In fact, I usually have it pretty well comprised in my head well in advance. When I’m “into” the subject, the words flow fairly easily. Often, I'm finished before I know it and for the most part, happy with the work. The journey to The End was fun. Fortunately, I have a job that I love. But unfortunately, the writing I do isn’t all that creative. Outside of a few golden opportunities for creativity and innovation, I write the magazine's monthly special advertising and promotional sections. Basically, they are service pieces geared toward guiding the reader about a particular service, somewhat like a consumer guide. Topics range from how to stage your home to sell it and how to get the kitchen of your dreams to new plastic surgery trends and how to come away with the most assets in a high-stakes divorce. Oh yes, and let’s not forget how to get the perfect shade of blonde this summer that leaves them guessing. if your shade is natural or not. Shallow topics? Well, sure. I mean, this is Dallas… c’mon.
I’ve been writing about these topics for seven years. I feel incredibly blessed to work where I do and with such an amazing group of talented people. I love my job, but as I’ve mentioned before, it is incredibly difficult and the pressure is immense. I have to admit, sometimes boredom creeps in when I write about these same topics year after year. It’s hard not to repeat myself. So, when the blank screen stares back at me, I’ll procrastinate and do anything to avoid writing a lead that doesn’t sound like the leads I wrote for the last six years. In other words, there are only so many shades of blonde.
I’ll head upstairs for a Diet Coke and chat to anyone and everyone on the way. That’s when I meet any new employees I’ve ignored for the past few months. They can probably attribute the sudden interest to deadline time. I file, and then re-file. I re-organize my desk. I make every doctor’s appointment for me and my kids that I can think of. I email long, lost pals. I poke around classmates.com. I read the company blog over and over again. I catch up on my soaps online. I call hubby and bug him about nothing special. Make a grocery list. A to-do list. Clean out my purse. Balance the checkbook. What I DON’T do is face my enemy.
The days tick off. The deadline approaches. I back into it by first loosely outlining the topics I’ll cover and the clients I’ll include. I write a few related sidebars. Slowly, I make my way to the intro and try to come up with some sort of catchy headline that hasn't been done to death. If I type, New Year, New You one more time, I may have to thrust myself in agony into the office paper shredder. The day before it's due, I finally sew it all together.
Then I read it.
And I hate it. Every time I finish a story, I have to turn off my computer and leave. If I don’t, I will delete the whole thing and start over. It is a sad truth about the way I work. I’ve done it before, and it’s ugly. Trying to remember everything I wrote, the tears, wondering why I even do this for a living..... hitting delete causes sheer havoc. So I learned to just walk away and start again in the morning. Most often, I change just about everything anyway, but the core of the story has remained. I have a copyeditor extraordinaire who makes my stories sound 10 times better than they actually do. I bribe her with spa gift certificates so she'll keep reading the same stuff over and over.
But every once in awhile I get a little nugget, a gem if you will. A new topic I’ve never written about before or one with endless possibilities. Then the excitement builds. I get to interview new people, research something unfamiliar…. Just dive into it and turn an vague idea into something real and hopefully, educational or enlightening. Even better, entertaining. That’s when I remember why I chose this career and why I love what I do. Why I sometimes even sacrifice personal and family time to foster this career. I look back at the incredible women in my life…. both of my grandmothers and my mother worked throughout their lives. One grandmother was the vice president of a bank; another the administrative assistant to a CEO. My mom has been a lifelong teacher. I imagine they also experienced burnout, guilt over not being at home, exhaustion, and fear. But they pressed on and taught me about the value of doing so. Thank God, because I’d hate to miss the highs of my job just because of a bad day here and there.
It’s funny. The blank screen also taunts me on this blog. I sat down to write something completely different that had absolutely nothing to do with my work. And look at this. I just completely monopolized your time writing about the enemy.
But hey, the good news is, I don’t have a blank screen anymore! For tonight, enemy…. defeated.
(Oh, and in honor of this victorious blog, here is a picture where I do battle every day. See how glamorous magazine life is!? Yeah, right.) November 17 A Not-So-Healthy ChoiceBefore my husband I were married, we had the sheer luxury of open Saturdays. The concept is a bit foreign to me now that they're filled with birthday parties, play dates, and trips to Babies R Us, but if I close my eyes really tight and try to take myself back to that beautiful, beautiful place, I can. You know…. waking up late, heading to a late breakfast/early lunch to nurse the ‘ol hangover, shopping together, or me napping on one couch or reading the ENTIRE paper while he leisurely watches the game (no interruptions from a child for a raging round of Candyland). Ahhhh…… the memories.
Back in those days—I’d say about 1998—one of our afternoon pastimes was to head to the mall to shop around, just looking usually. We’d often stop off for an afternoon margarita and nachos, maybe a movie. (Again…. Ahhhhh) Anyway, on one particular Saturday, we were headed toward a major department store when we see what looks like,the little lady from Poltergeist (just thinner) standing in front of us with a clipboard. My immediate reaction is to go around her and avoid eye contact if at all possible. I’m not a survey kind of gal and I could tell she spotted me a mile away as someone who would kindly feel sorry for her and participate. She was right; I usually do, and it’s one of the things I don’t like about myself!
Well, Hubbie is in sales. He has this theory that if he is rude to any sort of salesperson and doesn’t buy at least something or give them any sort of props for the effort, karma will step in and he will soon lose his own sale. So incredibly frustrating, especially when he practices his theory on telemarketers and door-to-door magazine salespeople. He once even gave a magazine salesman his own coat out of our closet because the dude was selling in freezing weather at night. Weeks later we learn that that same freezing salesman duplicated or washed our checks and we had bank fraud. I guess at least he was warm while he was sucking our account dry! And of course, we had subscriptions to about 10 magazines that we never, ever read. I’d say all in all, nice trade off…… riiiiiiiiiight.
Now this lady, I’ll call her Healthy Choice Lady, which you’ll understand later, approaches us and is relentless. She has her hair up in a bun, serious dandruff, bright red lipstick that goes not only on her lips but on top and below…. much like my four-year-old would apply it, come to think of it. She is just downright weird…. and appears to have some sort of nervous condition. She asks if she can ask us a few questions about our dining habits and that there is something wonderful in store for us if we just participate. Hubbie, being the karma-fearing sales guy that he is, obliges. I’m just pissed because we were actually in pursuit of a leather coat for me, which has now been put on the backburner. Humph!
She proceeds to ask us a few questions. I can’t take my eyes off of her clown-like lips or her nubby little pencil which looks chewed to death... and she checks everything off SO slowly and erases often. I’m thinking she needs to pursue a different job that doesn't require pencil-work. Well, lo and behold, our answers qualified us for this fabulous surprise, BUT in order to get it we had to follow her into her “quarters.” Something about this just didn’t sound right at all. All the while I am wondering how we got ourselves into this mess. We follow her down a long hallway in a side mall office. It was dingy and really grey. We come to an area behind a plastic divider where there are three women working, typing away and doing paperwork. They smile at Healthy Choice lady, giving her a thumbs up. Clearly, we are the first victim of the day… probably the month. So we go into a very tiny room and she gets out the damn clipboard and pencil again. Finally, Hubbie is getting mad. Thank God. I can see it on his face. He’s had enough. She asks him if he likes frozen entrees. He says, “No, so we better go.” Here’s a summary of the conversation:
Her: “Well, outside you said you’d eat them.”
Him: “I lied.”
Her: “Sir, I can’t believe you’d lie to me. I have spent so much time with you working on this project.”
Him: “You? You’ve spent so much time doing this? What about us? You should be doing whatever we ask!”
Her: “But Sir, you committed to following through with this survey and I suggest you do so.”
…… I’m getting nervous here. Are people going to come in and kidnap us, forcing us to try experimental frozen entrees?
Him: “We need to leave.”
Her, ignoring him and turning to me, trying to befriend me: “OK Miss, you said YOU eat Healthy Choice frozen entrees so I am going to ask you a few questions about them. Would you prefer chicken or beef?”
Me: “Chicken?”
Hubbie gives me evil eye for participating.
Him: “Do you like peas, peppers, corn, rice, pasta, all, none, some, or a combination, and if so which in your frozen entrees.”
Me: “Ummmm. Repeat that again?”
….. She gives me a dirty look and actually slams her clipboard down on a desk like I had just pushed her over the edge. Over peas and rice, mind you. She grabs two Healthy Choice entrees and holds them in front of me, raising her voice.
Her: “Which looks more appetizing to you…. THIS one or THIS one?”
…… In all my life I’ve never seen anyone so emotional over frozen food. I’m starting to get scared.
This is when Hubbie has finally had it.
Him: “Lady, you can take your f#@&ing frozen food entrees and stick them up your ass. We’re outta here.”
He grabs my hand and we start winding our way through the grey corridors, getting lost a few times. All the while, Healthy Choice lady is chasing after us clipboard in hand saying, and I kid you not, “Come back here! You have not completed the survey! You are not being fair to me and I’m trying to get this job done right! Get back here right now! All I asked was what types of additives she liked her entree!”
I feel like we are in some sort of twilight zone. She yells at her pals behind the plastic divider, “Help – they’re getting away!” They start yelling, too. “You need to stop sir, or we’ll have to call security.”
Seriously? Security? Because we won’t finish a questionnaire about our preferences of beef or chicken when we’re shopping in the frozen food aisle? This is too creepy.
So Hubbie turns around and sternly states, “This is finished. We’ve had enough. Give us the paper with our name and information on it.” The lady behind the plastic divider says no. She refuses to hand it over. Hubbie gets really mad at this point…. “Give me the f’in paper lady. You cannot have our phone number and address.” Just then, the little lady behind the plastic divider FLIPS US OFF! Hubbie reaches through the divider and grabs the paper and starts ripping it up! Healthy Choice lady is running after us into the mall, “Give me my paper back! That’s my paper!” The last thing we hear as we’re dodging people trying to get out of that area is her voice yelling, “Assholes!”
Now, think about this. It’s a relaxing Saturday afternoon at the mall. An afternoon that has turned into some sort of warfare over frozen food. How did we get here? What the hell just happened? We headed to the food court, silent. We order our food and start eating it. Silence. Finally, we both look up and bust out laughing. We cannot believe that was real, and that it just happened. But it did. It was the ultimate Curb Your Enthusiasm moment.
So now when I’m in the frozen food aisle and I see a Healthy Choice entrée, I stop and laugh to myself. I can still, to this day, hear her yelling at us, calling us assholes. And then I select…… the South Beach brand.
November 14 Here's A Whole Bunch of Nothing Special - Enjoy!Tonight has been great! I came home to start my regular routine of cooking dinner and feeding the kids. Hubbie gets home just as dinner is finished (I actually made a really good Mexican casserole – yum) and offers to give our oldest a bath. Of course I took him up on the offer. That gives me a full 30 minutes of freedom. He convinces her to try a shower, and she loved it. She jumped around like it was a sprinkler. She was so proud of herself. That will save a lot of time at night now! On top of that she ate everything on her plate, even healthy stuff. She is the pickiest eater ever. And on top of that, Liv ate “big people food” tonight and didn’t gag once. These are major accomplishments in our household! Then, as I was cleaning up the dinner dishes and feeding the baby, he offers to put her to bed. As in, change her pajamas and her diaper, feed her a bottle, rock her, and put her to bed. I just bought myself another 30 minutes! He rocks tonight!
Of course, the sad part of this story is that I had to spend that spare time washing dishes. Our poor pitiful dishwasher (thankfully) bit the dust. It was a piece! The new one comes on Wednesday, so I have hand-washed everything, hating every second of it. I have thought about my grandmothers so many times, wondering how on earth they managed everything in that they both worked and raised families AND cooked every meal. Oh well, Wednesday will be a beautiful day! I may even kiss the new dishwasher – I’m totally serious.
In addition to my little drunk-fest on Saturday night, the weekend was pretty good. I survived Sunday School, and then later, I took the girls to our neighborhood park. It was a gorgeous day. While Kate played with another little girl, I put Liv in the swing. This was her first real park swing. She absolutely loved it. In fact, I don’t know that I have ever seen her smile so big. It was such a peaceful thing, standing there pushing her in the swing, watching her little wisps of curls in the wind while she sort of zoned out, staring at everything, with the sound of Kate’s laughter in the background. It was almost sad when it was time to go home.
I am experiencing tremendous buyer’s remorse right now. So after a big vacation that was anything but cheap and after an ultra expensive night out on the town Saturday, I popped into Nordstrom this morning after seeing a client in the mall located right next to it. Just to look. Yeah, OK. I spot a pair of black, suede Via Spiga boots on the sale rack. They are the cool kind that sort of scrunch on the top a bit with a kick ass heel. Yeah baby! I THOUGHT the price tag was one thing, as this was a really great shoe sale. After further inspection I see they are marked DOWN to much more that that. The original price tag was insane; the sale price was better but still steep. I realize this, of course, after I’ve already tried them on, walked around, and fallen in love with them. Mindlessly, I just buy them. The total was rather shocking. I could have bought 5 pairs of shoes at a discount shoe store, like DSW, for that price. What the hell was I thinking? I am holding onto the receipt, just in case I get some good sense knocked into me anytime soon. I guess I could call it an early Christmas present…. They’re just SO pretty! I am such a sucker for boots.
I am on deadline this week. I would be much better served to start writing my story, due Friday. But I continue to procrastinate. I do it every month. Anything else in life, I don’t procrastinate. I always get everything done early, except when it comes to writing. I just wait…. I hate typing the lead—the first graph—it almost sickens me every time. Seriously, I get a sick feeling in my stomach and I write and re-write it about 100 times.
I have decided to limit my Bailey's on ice indulgences to one to two times per week. The vacation plus this new "habit" I've developed seems to have added two and a half pounds. The temptation is there but I am reserving it for weekends only..... unless, of course, emergency strikes. I reserve the right to break my own rules! :) It's a rather expensive habit too. Why is the good stuff in life always costs more?!
I have a stack of catalogues to go through. I think tonight is a great time to do so while Hubbie watches the game. I know, I know, buying anything is the last thing I should be doing, but hey, turning down pages to mark something for LATER doesn’t cost anything, right? November 13 Shameless PlugI have been meaning to do this for awhile, and haven't gotten around to it.
If you're into music and like all kinds of types of music, give this band a listen.
Why do I care? Because this is my step-sister and my brother-in-law, and they are awesome! They moved from home, west Texas, this summer to Studio City, CA to hit the music scene and see what happens. They've already met with some success and it's really cool to hear their stories and follow their journey. My daughter listens to their CD on repeat every night.
Anyway, this is their web site where you can learn more about them, listen to some of the songs, and even buy their CD or her new book. Pretty cool stuff. The photo is Zach and Joni with Kate in Studio City, CA. We got to visit them on our vacation.
So, here you go Zach and Joni, my shameless plug of your music!
Enjoy!
Why.... Why, Oh Why?So a month ago my friend Alleycat says she gets reservations in our city's hottest new celeb-hot spot restaurant. Yea AL! We tried to get reservations before, and we got them.... that is, if you like dinner at 10.
Anyway, it's six of us. We decide we deserve a night out on the town. Afterall, it's three HARD working mommies and their hubbies. I suppose they are hard-working too - ha!
So it's been on our calendar forever. Now, the earliest reservation we could get is 8:45 -- still not exactly dinnertime in suburbia, but for the cool folks, hey, that's just getting started. I tell Hubbie -- "You know, we'll just eat, have a few drinks, and I bet we're home by midnight."
We had equally split the cost of two babysitters for our brood, party of 5. We were in party mode when we got there. Hubbie kept telling me, "I bet you anything we're not home til at least 2." No way! I mean, I have to teach Sunday School to a group of four-year-olds today! I KNEW I'd be handling my liquor just fine.
Fast-forward. First, we consume a glass of wine at Alleycat's house before we go. No big deal. But I did notice I downed mine. We kiss the kids and all hop into the car. Feeling good! We head uptown and just make our reservation. Cool place--lovin' it. All the pretty people are out tonight, that's for sure. The food is seriously, to die for. We decide to order a ton of stuff and all share it--the only way to go at this place. It was incredible. In fact, I don't know if I have ever tasted anything so divine. There is a reason Hollywood celebs love this place. I'm still dreaming about the food--YUM. But let me caution you in case you head to another location of this restaurant near you, get your wallet ready. There is almost no way to leave that place under $100 a person. That's right.... a person. So there I have THREE vodka martinis, extra dirty please. Two were on purpose and one was a mistake. They brought an extra. Well, I mean, I can't just leave it sitting there can I?
We try to go nearby to another super hot spot--a night club where the pool has a glass top so you can mingle and drink "on water." This is where Brittney Spears and Jessica Simpson hang when they are in town. The line and wait is too much for these old folks so we're outta there. We wind up closer to home at a more "safe" watering hole where I proceed to put down two Bailey's on ice.
Are you keeping up with the drink count yet, my friends?
I am tired. Hubbie is tired. I see many yawns. It's time to call it a night. You'd think. My pal Alley Cat and her hubbie are notorious for having lots of GOOD alcohol at home. These guys know how to throw a party. They also happen to have a beautiful new pool out back with the perfect set-up for lounging.... and drinking. So we head out for A night cap. That one nightcap turns into..... two BIG Bailey's on ice, one glass of champagne (or two), and a glass of wine. Things are starting to get fuzzy here. I remember holding a stick that we used to roast marshmallows and giving a speech about blogging and how great it is. Ohdeargod.
All the while, our dear, sweet innocent children are asleep. My baby is in the pack n play in the master bath snoozing away. Finally, someone has enough sense to check their watch. Holycrap. It's 3 in the morning. We decide not to wake up our sleeping angels and let them have a sleepover. But we do grab the baby and head home. SCARY. Driving was not something we should have been doing--that is FOR SURE. But, we did. We get home, I feed the baby and put her to bed. It's about 4 at this point. Hubbie is passed out in bed. I just land on the couch, in all of my clothes. About 30 minutes ago the baby decides it's time to wake up. Therefore, I've had less than 4 hours of sleep, and it's almost time for me to get dressed and go teach these daring young 'uns all about Jesus.... with a hang over mind you. I promise to pray for forgiveness on the way!
So later we need to collect oldest daughter from dear Alleycat's house. She's probably wondering what the hell happened to us. Come to think of it, so am I?
So.... why, oh why? Why couldn't I have a glass of wine with dinner, drink LOTS of water, then maybe another glass of wine and ONE nightcap? WHY did I have to drink like tomorrow they begin prohibition? Now my Sunday is ruined. I will spend it nursing this f'in hangover all while taking care of two kiddos. Hubbie will be camped out in front of the t.v. with nachos and a Coke, napping occasionally.... guaranteed. I can literally still taste the olives from those martinis. Ugh.
It was fun, so I guess it's worth it. I am just WAY too old for this shit. And ya know, I've been hung over only a handful of times in the last few years. And come to think of it, the ONLY times I'm ever hung over, my pal Alleycat is involved. So AL, are you reading this? We have to stop ourselves. We MUST use discretion next time. Cokes, water, tea....... AGH! This is aging me fast! :) Either that, or we need to hire the babysitter for the NEXT day too while we recover. Now, there's an idea.
So next weekend, the girls in this group are piling in the 'ol SUV and heading downtown for the Nutcracker. I for one am really looking forward to it. At first, it was because it will be a beautiful and authentic ballet and I can't wait for Kate to experience it. Now, I'm kind of excited because it will be a Sunday where I'm not hung over! That is, unless dear Alleycat figures out a way to sneak in some bubbly for the ride. (Don't even think about it, girl!) :)
All in all, it was a great night out. We had a blast. And, I'd do it again...... in about a year, maybe more. Alrighty, off to teach the sweet little lambs Jesus loves me and other such things. Hopefully, I won't pass out in the playdough because it's an extreme possibility at this point!
..... and on a side note every time I move my head, my hair smells like smoke! College days, revisited!
Again, I ask.... why..... Why, oh WHY did I do this to myself!?! November 12 Attention... Attention....Vacation Pics just loaded..... Enjoy!
Oh..... wait a minute.... (lean in closer)... ummmm.... hmmm....
Uh, Dar.... is that you?
Nah, not nearly HOT enough!
;)
Slam Dunk!About this time every year at the magazine, the marketing and sales teams gather for our annual Christmas picture to send to clients, thanking them for their business. Even though I am a writer for the magazine, I technically fall into both of these departments because most of what I write is promotion-centered, and I deal with clients on a daily basis.
These pictures stress me out. As I've mentioned before, this is a company full of pretty people. I mean, Botox, microdermabrasion, boob jobs, ultra-expensive hair cuts and color, and designer duds on a daily basis are part of the norm. Let's just say carring a Coach purse is about as pedestrian is your going to get around these parts. Let's ALSO clarify that I've never had Botox or microderm. My designer clothing is limited to a few, select pieces. I have shopped at Target for CLOTHES! (Agh, the horrors!) I do carry a Coach purse, but I plan on carrying it for YEARS. It is not an interchangable purse with different outfits that I will tire of in a few months until the next Louis Vuitton comes out. I love hunting for bargains at Ross and Marshall's. I doubt many of my co-workers have ever stepped foot into one.
This is good background for our picture. On picture day, the girls go all out. I mean, most of them are still trying to snag a man and this is sent out to many, many eligible bachelors out there. The photo shoots are often the type of stuff that would wind up on the editing room floor of America's Next Top Model. Everyone acting like they don't want to be in the front, all while hopng and praying they get to. If nothing else, they need to show off the $1,000 pair of Jimmy Choo's they just purchased. Don't get me wrong.... I love and ADORE this group of girls. I've worked with many of them for seven years. They just live a different life than I do, primarily because they're married and don't have kids. Their day's a comin'! Soon, they too will be digging old cheerios out of the crevices of their SUV desperately in need of a wash, all to the nerve-wracking sounds of a wailing baby with a dirty diaper. Well, maybe not.... some will probably let their nanny handle that!
Anyway, getting dressed for this picture is tough. Typically we wear all black, with a splash of red, or just all black.... whatever. Most of us are blonde....kind of the signature requirement to work there I think. Many of the girls get their hair blown out that day and make-up done. I've never done that. I just wing it. So yesterday, I'm rushing around trying to find something all black that's different than years previous and makes me look at least half-way decent, all the while praying for a good hair day. I find my favorite new pair of black pants I bought right after pregnancy in hopes of fitting into them -- success! I can't decide which shoes.... what to do.... what to do.....
In order for me to view my entire outfit and see the shoes with it, I have to climb on top of the ledge of the tub to see in the mirror. (Note: Ask hubby for a full-length mirror for Christmas). Anyway, while I'm twisting and turning to make sure my butt doesn't look to bid and deciding between two different pairs of tall, black boots, I lose my balance. I realize what's happening, and there's nothing I can do to save myself. I fall straight back into the tub, hitting bottom first with my boots sticking out over the edge. It was loud! Candles fell over and the sound alone of me falling was pretty loud too! So I'm sitting in the tub (thank God it's a bigger, whirlpool style of tub to accommodate me), and realizing what just happened. A slam dunk! I didn't even get up for a bit. I just sat there realizing how bad that could have really been. Then I start laughing hysterically at what a klutz I am, and even more so that it's all for this crazy picture that drives me insane every year.
So we get to the shoot and everyone is primping and jockeying for their prime position, as usual. Because I"m short, I get seated on a tall stool in the front row. Oops, wait, he does a bottom row of seated girls. Takes the shot. My boots, which I slam dunked for, don't even show at all.
Go figure.
Have a great weekend!
November 10 The Happiest Place on Earth?Sunny California. The land of sandy beaches, sparkling water, movie stars, mansions, Rodeo Drive, aging hippies, and of course….the happiest place on earth, Disneyland.
Just seeing the word Disneyland makes one think of laughter, smiles, hugs, families bonding, the skipping of children from ride to ride, and a world of fantasy come to life.
Or, it could mean spilled $6 lemonade at every turn, Mommy I want this, Mommy I want that, my legs are tired so hold me, please hold me, my tummy hurts, can I have cotton candy, my legs are tired HOLD ME, what’s wrong with the camera—did you break it, where’s the damn autograph book, don’t drop that, slow down, hurry up, slow down, if it’s scary just close your eyes, are we there yet, HOLD ME, can I get on your shoulders, I can’t see, I still can’t see, I want to ride it again, no honey it’s too expensive, I think it’s this way, No, it’s that way, I told you I was right, You don’t have to rub it in, I said DIET Coke, not COKE damnit, come back here, another Bailey’s on ice please, why is the line closed, too bad the line isn’t closed, I want to go home, I don’t want to go home…….
Although the scenes above were actual events played out by real people and not by actors, it actually was a really good family vacation. I’d say it was about a day too long though. We arrived on Friday afternoon, met up with Hubbie, and hit the park. It turned dark around 5 in California, so it always seemed later than it was, leaving us ultra tired at the end of the day. Kate got just about every favorite character’s autograph, and the princess dinner was a hit. She and her friend both dressed as Cinderella and went to Aerial’s grotto for a (disgusting) dinner with all of the princesses. She was in absolute Heaven, of course, while the parents were in a bizarre, pink-tinted version of Hell and just about coming to fists over making sure their own little princess got ample face time with Aerial and her crew. Much to Hubbie's amazement, I stood my ground and defended my daughter's turf, camera in hand. I think the surrounding moms could see it in my eyes that it was best not to challenge me.
The food at the princess dinner was almost inedible, but then again, you’re really not paying a $100 tab for cold meatloaf or tuna sandwiches, the featured entrees, or for generic Rocky Road ice cream dumped on top of a frozen brownie topped with runny whip cream for dessert.
We rode just about every ride she was tall enough for, saw just about every show we could see, and ate just about every crappy pizza or hamburger and French fry meal at the park. I could go another six months without a single fry and be perfectly fine, maybe longer. And we downed just about every $3.50 bottle of water or $5.00 Coke in the park as well.
We left Disney on Sunday night and headed to Studio/Universal City. We didn’t really have plans to see Universal Studios but the family we were with was going so we just followed suit. Big waste of money. I mean, some of it was enjoyable and interesting, but for $140 for the 3 of us, I’d say we got about $50 worth of enjoyment out of it. And worse, I had to be a “stunt volunteer” in this sound effects show along with Hubbie where they superimposed me having dinner with The Klumps, fighting off a giant kitty, and other random and ridiculous stuff. Not my finest moment folks. If recorded, that one will definitely ruin my chances of ever being voted into office.
But the day before Universal we got really adventurous and decided to cab it to Hollywood Blvd. where we saw the Chinese Theatre with all of the footprints and handprints and the Walk of Fame which was pretty cool and super touristy. Loved the street performers walking around—a bony Wonder Woman, a dirty-looking Spiderman, and an off-brand Mickey Mouse. Then we took a cab to Melrose b/c I wanted to hit some vintage stores and snag a super cool CA treasure. The stupid driver took us to a freaking mall and dumped us off at Macy’s. I can find a treasure there just blocks from my house. So we walked. And walked. And then walked some more. With a four year old, mind you. I’d say we covered about 15 blocks trying to make it to Melrose. We walked for at least an hour. But we cut through some residential neighborhoods and saw some awesome CA homes. I was almost in tears by the time we reached Melrose. I wasn’t in the mood to shop at all. Then we realized Sunset Blvd. wasn’t that far away. So off we went again. Misery. I think Hubbie was trying to “recoup” the $30 wasted cab fare we just spent by punishing ourselves with walking. We conveniently landed near Guitar Center on Sunset . And for those of you who know Hubbie at all, this is his Garden of Eden. It was the where the Hollywood Rock Walk is housed, where all of the guitar greats leave their handprints in cement, as well as the Rock Walk museum—a guitar lover’s dream come true. While he was mesmerized by the memorabilia from Eddie Van Halen and Ace Freeley, Kate and I wandered down a bit where I found love at first credit card swipe.
It was a store called Sugar Baby, Rocker Moms; Not Soccer Moms. It had the coolest clothes for kids. I snapped up an oh-so-fitting Rocker Mom; Not A Soccer Mom t-shirt and went next door where I found some seriously hot clothes, making them mine in a matter of minutes. Scored big there. I could have done so much more damage but I realized I was pushing it on time with the Sunset crowd coming out, all while dragging my pre-schooler down the street.
Wednesday was a travel day, and it was long and tiring. Too many bags, too tired, everyone in a foul mood. Wine was in order on the way back and Hubbie I partook of it, hardly saying a word because really, there were no more words left. Facial expressions sufficed. That much togetherness over the course of five days had left us both physically and mentally drained. I came back to work and had my cube covered in Post-its, thanks to an email I sent out before I left. Just you wait, marketing girls..... just you wait.
Oh, and did I mention that tonight I’ll be working on creating a cardboard sign to hold up on the side of the road, “Will Work to Pay for This Vacation?” Yes, I need a second job or possibly a loan to pay for all of this. The cab fares alone could have paid for an all-inclusive trip for 2 to Mexico. Then to come home and read the last rites to our dishwasher….yes, it’s an expensive month in this household.
This morning the baby cried for her breakfast. I flew up the stairs, so anxious to see her. I hadn’t seen her in about a week. She didn’t really notice me, downed her bottle, and looked up. She stared at me for a long time then started to cry. When my Mom took her, she stopped. She had totally bonded with my Mom! When Hubbie went to pick her up, she screamed like a needle was poking her. She was terrified of him. We have spent the entire evening kissing our baby’s butt/sucking up to her, trying to make her like us again. Geez Louise.
It’s good to be home. In a year’s time, I have been pregnant, given birth, taken my oldest daughter to Disneyworld while six months pregnant, and now to Disneyland while leaving my baby at home. I think that is quite a lot of “kid stuff.” The last relaxing vacation for two was 3 summers ago. I’d say I’m overdue for one of those. I actually started planning one to Cabo on the plane ride back. As soon as I get enough change in my plastic Taco Bell cup from standing on the side of the road begging for money to fund this damn trip, I’m SO there.
I have tons of vacation pics to post. They just haven’t been downloaded yet. I will probably get it done over the weekend. Now I'm headed to what I call the happiest place on earth, a nice Bailey's on ice and hitting the couch to watch Tivo'd Desperate Housewives next to Hubbie while he works on his laptop, kids in bed. Yes, my friends, dreams can come true!
‘Til then…… November 09 I'm Back!..... Did a quick scan of everyone's blog. SO freakin' tired and no time to comment or really read it.
So, what did I miss?! Anything good?!
I'll be back with much, much more tomorrow. Can't wait to see what all of you have been up to.
CA was good. I am worn out. I need a vacation from my vacation, that's for sure.
Stay tuned.....
j. November 04 On My Mind....On My Mind:
I am dreading schlepping through an airport with my daughter by myself. Note to self: Respect single moms even more!
My baby decided to wake up at 11:30, right when I went to bed. She retired again around 2. Got up for good at 6. I feel GREAT!
Four-year-old earned her "tiger belt" yesterday it tot-kwon-do! Waytogo Kate!
I hate packing when you have no idea what you're actually going to be doing for part of a vacation or exactly what the weather will be like. My suitcase weighs about as much as the Titanic.
Cold still here.
I spent about $200 on a portable DVD so that said four-year-old could watch movies on the plane simply for the fact that I'd like a Bloody Mary and to read a few magazines. How much you wanna bet she's "not in the mood" for movies and would rather chat or play games for 2.5 hours?
Why does my baby keeping looking right at me, smiles really big, and says..... Daddeeeeeeeeeee!
Strange but true. I'm going to miss you blog dorks! I'll be sure to take lots of mental notes for future blog entries upon my return.
.....Time to finish it up and hit the friendly skies.
.... Til then
j. November 02 I wonder if my keys met the devil today?This is a two-part blog. I have had a topic on my mind all day, then… well, my day happened.
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before:
What happens when an over-booked, tired, working mom is rushing out of her office, late to an appointment?
She drops her keys down an elevator shaft!
(Cue the laughter here.)
Or, not.
Yep, that was the crowning jewel of my day. I got an appointment with an orthodontist who specializes in adult orthodontics, such as Lingualcare, Invisalign, retainers, etc. Basically he makes a living off of stupid people like me whose parents spent a fortune on their braces, who suffered through pain and horrible school pictures, only to have straight teeth for year because they DIDN’T WEAR THEIR RETAINER. Late as usual, I was rushing to make my consultation on time.
So I decide if Hubbie can go out and buy a mustang at the drop of a hat—his longtime dream—then I can get my teeth fixed…. My longtime dream! Ahh, isn’t compromise in a marriage a beautiful thing? It’s 50/50, right? So I’m skipping along, clear my desk for the day, say my good-byes, and hit the elevator. My SUV is on P-3. I grab my keys out of my purse before stepping out. Then, an evil force that was clearly out to destroy me and my eternal happiness somehow pushes the keys out of my hand! Invisible bastard. I mean, I wouldn't be as dumb as to just let them fall out of my own hand, right?
I watched it as it happened…. Almost slow motion, yet I couldn’t do anything to save EVERY key I need. So many places for the keys to land, yet there they go straight…. down… the…. elevator shaft. It took me a moment or two to realize what happened. Yes, my keys had literally gone to Hell. I mean, as far as we know, anything lower than the elevators in a parking garage must be Hell, right?
What to do? I ride back up and for reasons still unbeknownst to me, I look at a lady dropping off her mail in the lobby. And say, “Shit. I lost my keys.” Never seen her before in my life, and she looked at me like she should have looked at me…. Like I was an idiot.
Work out the details with the receptionist. The head honcho maintenance guy is out of town. Will have to settle for assistant. Said assistant comes up to the magazine and looks at me with a combination of fear and hatred, as I soon realize what he knows….he must risk his life to get my stupid keys. Boys and girls, he’s not only going to Hell for my keys, he’ll be doing it hoping and praying and elevator doesn’t squish him. Note to self: Be nicer to the maintenance guy from here on out. Apparently, it's a big to-do to stop the building elevator. Higher-ups must be called in, ladders required.... the whole elevator processed must stop. It usually requires several men. He is one man.
About this time, one of the editors asks how I could do something so stupid. Thanks, a lot. Now I feel so much better. I do some calling around and learn I will have to have my SUV towed about 50 miles in order to have a key made to open it at the dealership. Towing costs plus the key of $150. Then, I’d have to figure out how to get in the house. Probably a locksmith, then handling the alarm company. Remember, Hubbie is out of town and yes, we’re stupid enough not to have a back up plan. No one else has a key. I’m going through all of the scenarios in my head. I don't cry because I'm in shock. And also, I have faith in the maintenance man. I have also decided that I would try to go get them myself, if I had to. But know one knew that yet.
Postman comes by. He’s buddies with the maintenance guy. They discuss the situation in Spanish. I’m sure they’re also discussing how stupid the blonde next to them is. Am I worth risking their lives for? Apparently so. Fifteen minutes later, the postman and the maintenance man arrive with my keys. I hug them. They turn 10 shades of red. All is right with the world. I clutch my keys, holding on for dear life. I stop at a nice bakery on the way home and buy cookies for them for tomorrow to thank them. And I make a back up plan for the next time, because it’s inevitable, knowing me. I call Hubbie in CA and told him what happened. The first thing he asks is, "What are you wearing?" I tell him. He says, "Good thing you wore that today, or you might not have your keys."
Another note to self: Never dress down for work again, just in case you happen to once again banish your keys to Hell. I'm sure they were just doing a good deed and their job, but you never know.
Now, onto Part II….. Let’s call it SSB – Secret Single Behavior.
Yes, I stole that from an episode of Sex in the City. I was thinking about this last night. I stayed up a lot later than usual, even though I was dead tired. I let the house look like crap before I went to bed. I ate fast food and devoured ALL of the French fries, when normally I’d share with Hubbie and take just a few. I don’t put my dishes in the sink. Tonight, I shopped a bit before getting the kids. Just a LITTLE bit. I cooked macaroni and cheese for my daughter tonight, and I ate my share just standing up at the stove, right out of the pot. I bought a People magazine at the drugstore when buying more drugs for this STUPID ASS cold. I plan on devouring every word of it while sipping on a Bailey’s later.
I’m doing all of this because Hubbie is out of town. I’m calling it my Secret Single Behavior. It’s like, all of the sudden calories don’t count. Hours can be wasted. Money spent is “free.” Why? My bank account doesn’t change because he’s gone. My scale will reflect the truth in the morning. I will wind up cleaning everything up tonight anyway. So I asked some buddies what they do when their significant other is away. Do they do anything different? A 100 percent yes. They eat out more, and usually, it’s more fattening than usual. Some buy a small pint of ice cream on the way home and eat it right out of the carton while watching a chick flick. Catalogue shopping (one of my activities for later this evening; calls will be made.)
What is the deal with this? It’s not like my Hubbie, or theirs either, is controlling. He wouldn’t care if I ate 3 orders of French fries in front of him, and he rarely if ever cares what I spend. I could stay up til all hours of the night and watch whatever I want when he’s here….. but I don’t. We usually eat the same dinner. His portion is bigger. We watch an agreed-upon show, usually the news or something, and go to bed around the same time … 10 or so. I almost always clean and straighten everything before we turn in. I’m also sure he wouldn’t mind if I read People cover to cover and let housework fall to the wayside. But I don’t. So why the secret single behavior? Just something I’ve been wondering. Another one of the many mysteries of relationships, I guess.
So, what’s your SSB?
Random stuff from today on my mind:
Pull keys out of purse AFTER exiting work elevator from this day forward.
Daughter says, “You should be a chef” after I make her shells and cheese out of a box. Love her!
Reschedule orthodontist appointment. That tooth WILL go back where it belongs.
I hate this cold/sinus infection.
I spend too much time blogging.
Can my baby just get her teeth already? I’m afraid they don’t make enough infant Tylenol to get us through teething.
I hate this cold/sinus infection. Wait, I already said that. But, I do.
It's time to figure out Christmas cards.
Is it Friday yet?
I’m making a promise to myself not to write anything else for my blog until AFTER I’m packed up tomorrow. Then, just one more. ..... Afterall, I have teacups to ride and Disney princess dinners to attend! November 01 Not Myself TodayWarning: Read at your own risk. I am in a really weird mood today and about to unleash a major vent.
I have a few mildly entertaining ideas for blog entries, but I just can’t seem to get my thoughts together to write about them. I just finished with ship week at the magazine, that’s the week we build the issue and ship it off to print. It could also be called hell week. It’s the one week where you better pray your not sick, your kids aren’t sick, and that nothing strange comes up to pull you away from work. It’s the one week where your job hangs in the balance if you don’t perform up to snuff. You should also be prepared to work way into the night. It sounds bad, but considering the rest of the month you are basically on your own, writing stories, gathering information, and preparing for the next issue at your leisure, one tough week a month doesn’t seem so bad. Still, we all dread it around this household. That’s probably why I can’t write anything worth a damn. Too wiped out.
I dread it because the house always falls apart. I can have it sparkling clean on a Sunday, and by the time ship is over, it looks like we’ve had six frat parties here. No one around here seems to understand the concept of cleaning up after themselves. Of course, I can’t blame the baby on that one…. yet. I literally fall into bed on these nights, so dinner, laundry, and straightening fall to the wayside. But, here I am. Ship week is over and it’s ALL waiting for me. How sweet of it. I don’t cook, so it’s either no dinner, take out, or drive-thrus. Tonight’s menu: Chick Fil A.
I am always so wiped out after these weeks that the next day or two after I just spend kind of “catching up.” It’s like re-entering my life after being gone for a week. I also slow down and spend more time with the kids. In ship week, it’s a frenzy of just getting them to daycare, picked up, and put to bed so I can dive in into work at the magazine. Hubbie usually does most of the pick ups and drop offs during this week. I’m grateful for it, but it comes with a price.
He is the only partner at his company with a wife who works. No one else seems to understand that his Mercedes has to have car seats, lunch boxes, and diaper bags in it and that he has to leave on time sometimes to pick up the kids. They wonder why his work car is a mess and why he can’t stay at the office til midnight like them. Yes, they have kids.
They ask him why I have to work; can’t we make it on his salary? My answer to that is: Nunya. Truth be told, yes. Of course we could. But I prefer to do more than “make it.” I have financial dreams and goals that require retirement funds, college funds, and the like. Plus, I enjoy what I do. I’m lucky that it’s flexible enough for me to be an attentive, working mom. I worked very hard at creating this career, and it fulfills my “creative side.” And when mom is fulfilled and happy, it trickles down the kids…. And that fulfillment is different for every mom working AND non-working.
Just the fact that I am typing this and have to talk to people about it over and over—whether it’s a conversation with Hubbie about people asking him, at a play date, a birthday party, or at work……whatever the situation, this conversation is completely ridiculous. I have never, not once, in all of my “mommyhood” asked a mom who doesn’t work, “Why don’t you work? Don’t you have any job skills? Don’t you care about your family’s future?” I consider that NONE of my business. And frankly, I don’t really care what the other mommy does. To each her own. She is the queen of her domain, in my opinion. Live and let live. F 'em and feed ‘em fish heads, to quote a pal. Whatever. How about, you worry about you and I worry about me?
When I was pregnant, both times, people would ask over and over, “Are you going back to work? Or, “Do you have to go back to work?” I finally thought of my clever answer: “I am having a baby. I didn’t win the lottery.” I just let ‘em chew on that for awhile.
If I hear one more time, “I don’t know how you drop your kids off every day and trust someone else to raise your children,” I am going to go off. I was asked this question this weekend. It’s been bothering me for days. Think that all you want about me, but if I respect your life, respect mine and keep it to yourself! You would think by now I’d have a snappy comeback, but there I go, making excuses like, “My job is flexible. It is so hard but it’s what our family needs. Blah, Blah, Blah!”
I’ve also heard, “Why do you work? Can’t you make it on one salary? Do you realize that the costs of working are often greater than your salary?” Again, Nunya! I just think this whole Mommy Wars is a topic that doesn’t need to be discussed unless it’s an agreed upon dialogue between two people. It should fall in line with religion and politics.
I didn’t mean to go off on that in this blog, but it’s just one of those days. Tired from Halloween. House is a wreck. Bill-paying time. Hubbie is out of town til we join him on Friday in CA so I’m “single mom” for awhile. Plus, ship week ended and it’s like coming down from a high. I love the fast-paced action my job provides. I like the stress and the deadlines. It’s when I do my best thinking and writing. When we put the issue to bed, I sort of flounder around for a day or so until I’m back on my feet working on the next issue. I sort of feel out of control, and it puts me in a crappy mood.
I also ate way too much of Kate’s Halloween candy today and I feel gross. I am going to get my mom to toss it while we’re gone b/c Kate will forget about it during vacation. Ugh.
I think I’m just having “one of those days.” I’m allowed, right? And, it’s my blog so I can say whatever the hell I want to. I realize a topic of working mom vs. stay at home mom can incite a civil war. I guess I’ll just sit back and see what happens. It’s something I needed to vent about though. If I condemned others for their choice, then I’d have no room to complain, but I don’t do that. I think it would be great to be able to stay home with my kids and watch every second of their lives, but for a myriad of reasons, that’s not how it works in our household. It would be great if I could come up with a standard, snappy-yet-polite answer/comeback for instances like this weekend. Taking all suggestions, if you have them.
The mom actually said, “You know, Jennifer, if you have the need to be busy and productive when you stay at home, you could volunteer at your children’s school or do something with your church. That will satisfy that itch for you.”
Really? No shit! I never thought of that? Volunteering? Oh yes, what brilliance! Now my life is complete. Thank you, mom, for your insight. Thing is, I work AND I volunteer at my kid’s school whenever I can AND I teach Sunday School at my church twice a month PLUS involve myself in some church activities in my SPARE time there whenever I can. AND I am still a mom. And last I checked, my kids still like me! They light up at the end of the day when I come pick them up. It’s me they want to put them to bed. And they have wonderful sweet hugs for me in the mornings. If they’re hurt, they cry to me. Not their daycare teacher. Not their babysitter. Me.
Do I miss them during the day yes! Do I like having time to myself in the day to get errands run at lunch, have lunch with girlfriends, enjoy adult conversation, and have something of my own? Yes! Do I feel guilty about working? Yes! Do I love my work? Yes! Would I change any of it? I don't think so. I really LIKE my life. There are bumps and bruises but it all works out. We group-hug it out at the end of the day and on most nights, go to bed with smiles on our faces. There is a lot of love in this house. Whether I work or not has nothing to do with that.
I think I’ve had enough on this topic. To add insult to injury, I woke up with that old familiar feeling…. Scratchy throat, cough…. Now I feel the sinus drainage coming on and a tinge of an earache. Just in time for vacation. Perfect.
Well, I must run off. This tired-yet-fulfilled working mom has a kid to bathe, bills to pay, a house to straighten, laundry to do, and an episode of Desperate Housewives waiting for me on Tivo.
..... and for you stay-at-home moms out there, just know that I completely admire you and respect your choice. When I am at home with my kids all weekend I am more tired than when I work. You have patience like none other. I truly believe that reasons we choose that paths we choose as moms is for the betterment of our kids, whatever that means to us personally. I just wish some moms out there would give me the same courtesy.....
…. Any tips for stopping a cold/sinus trouble in its path greatly appreciated.
Until next time…….. |
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