So over the weekend, hubby and I are watching the ever-so-mindless E Channel and there is a snippet about the Denise Richards/Richie Sambora (yum)/Charlie Sheen/Heather Locklear drama on. I am interested in the actual story, listening to all the juicy details when I hear…

 

“Wow. Look at her!”

 

I look up from whatever mundane household chore I was doing and see a bikini-clad hot mamma Denise vacationing with Mr. Livin’ On  Prayer. I’m looking for something really weird on her – a bruise on her face the size of her nanny from Charlie Sheen? A third eye? What? What?!

 

“Her body. Wow. And she has two little kids!”

 

Oh no he didn’t.

 

Oh yes he did.

 

Later that same day he asked me if I wanted him to teach me how to use the new sit-up machine.

 

Lest he forget, it’s dear Denise’s job in life to look good. Her nannies care for the children while she vacations with her new boyfriend; her chefs prepare delicious and nutritious meals so that she never has to run through Taco Town on her way home from a long day at the office because she can’t bear to cook another meal for her family. Her trainer shows up daily and makes sure every toned muscle in her body stays that way so she can snag the next audition. Salon appointments aren’t a luxury—they are a necessity. So, whenever hubbie can provide me with all that (including vacationing with my new boyfriend) then I’m sure I can look like Denise Richards, too.

 

Arse.

 

Moving on….

 

My baby can say so many new words. Just over the course of a holiday weekend, she said keys, uh-huh, what’s this, juice, puppy, and the ever-so-important, no. Of course, that is becoming a quick favorite.

 

I found out that my dad (real dad) and step-mom are coming for a visit this weekend. I am weeks away from being 34. In all of my life, he has never come to stay with me. Ever. He only visited me for the first time last year. I have always gone to see him. I am a little  weirded out by this. Not sure how it will go. It feels awkward. Oh well. Remind me to put out the nice guest towels.

 

Next topic….

 

Relationships. I know that there is a certain comfort factor you get in with a partner when you are in a long-term relationship. But where do you draw the line? What constitutes gross vs. comfort? Around here, we have a reasonable amount of respect for each other—unwritten rules that we both abide by and appreciate….. Such as, we don’t’ speak to each other while the other is going to the bathroom. We close the door and leave it that way. We don’t belch or otherwise around each other…. Ever. Well, sometimes he does but it’s always followed up by a hearty excuse me. In general, we don’t do “gross” things around each other. I have noticed that is not the case with a lot of couples. And the argument, “You’re not married until you can (insert gross thing here) around each other.” Well, I don’t think I buy that.

 

OK…..

 

Movies. The Aristocrats. I kept hearing how hilarious this movie is. We finally had the chance to see in on PPV. I got all settled in, ready for a laugh a minute. I don’t get it. It wasn’t funny. It was gross. It didn’t make sense. I kept waiting for the “punch line.” We turned it off after about 20 or so minutes. Maybe it’s me. There goes $4. Should’ve bought Rent to torture my husband with the main song.

 

Tan lines. I have the slightest tan line. I’m so excited. Granted it will be gone by the end of the day, but yes…. I did get some sun. My oldest daughter and I hung out in the pool yesterday until it started to rain. We had a blast. When I was taking a shower this a.m., I noticed that when the water hit the lower part of my legs, it kind of stung, like I had a scratch or something. Turns out, I have a random sunburn in the shape of some third-world country on my legs. Two weird splotches where I didn’t put sunscreen. Idiot.

Speaking of tanning, I saw a segment on Geraldo Live last night about Tanorexia – the new buzz word in healthcare. It was about the nation’s obsession with being tan, especially young girls addicted to tanning beds. I was barely watching it until I saw this lady’s body all stitched up and mangled-looking after her doctor removed numerous skin cancers because she had melanoma. It was crazy-looking. She was a tanning addict years ago and is now paying the price. I know all of the facts about it, but there is no denying that tan skin looks better. But why the hell is it that in Hollywood, these startlets can be bright white and still look good, but in Texas, if you are pale, you feel like some sort of outcast? I guess I should move to Hollywood and become a star. That seems like my best option at this point.

 

And finally…..

 

This week my heavy workload continues. This is the last “bad week” for awhile. I am shipping a huge issue with three huge projects I handled. It will be a tough one, especially since it’s a short week. I have one week to finish a major story for another publication, and I need to get started on my new super-cool freelance gig which involves one of my favorite hobbies, shopping! My mom and step-dad come in tomorrow because they need to stay here to catch a 5 a.m. flight to Tel Aviv. They are visiting the Holy Land. Sounds great, but are they f’in nuts? Likely. Then my dad and step mom arrive on Friday for a weekend stay and to see my oldest in her spring dance recital. She looks cute, but those things are such a beating. I have to say, though, that I’m ready to tackle it all because I had one of the most restful weekends in awhile. We slept in, napped when we could, took it easy. I think I put on a bit of make-up once, and my biggest outing was a casual dinner. My sister visited a little bit, so that was nice.  We grilled out most every meal, so the kitchen stayed clean all weekend. All in all, I got a lot of rest. That’s a good thing because in about five minutes, the crazy and non-stop life of a working mom of two begins again.

 

So off I go….

 

Til next time…..

Most nights last week, I worked until 10 or 11 p.m. I am more tired now that I've been in a really long time. The kind of tired where you are too tired to sleep...where it feels like you are on automatic pilot, just getting through the day.

 

Sad thing, the work I did was mostly to catch up...not get ahead. I still have two major stories to write, and only a handful of days until they are due. I know I'll get it done, but it won't be easy getting there.

 

On Friday after work, hubby and I had a dinner party to attend. This is with an old friend from college and some of her couple friends. This is the friend who was recently married. We were once so close--college buddies who have seen it all and done it all together. Then I got married...she didn't. We drifted apart. Our lives no longer meshed. I hadn't talked to her in years prior to just before her wedding.

 

I don't know what possessed her to invite us over. My initial reaction was to decline. There is something that happens inside of me when we do hang out. I get so mad at her when I think about the past. I tried so hard to keep our friendship together. She was my saving grace when I got a divorce. In fact, if it wasn't for her, I don't know if I could have had the strength to get through it. She gave me a place to stay, for free, while I looked for a job, found an apartment, and started over. She was the one on the phone, talking me through it when I would start to get cold feet. I owe her a lot for that. I called her all the time....message after message. I even sent an old-fashioned, handwritten note once, telling her how much I missed our friendship. Nothing.

 

I don't know if maybe somewhere in her brain, she had it filed to befriend me again once she got married. But when the invitation came, I thought it through and decided to go ahead and attend. I'm so glad I did. Hubby is well aware of my mixed emotions concerning this friendship. He sat back and drank very little the entire time, letting me gulp plenty of liquid courage and chat it up with my friend and her "new" set of friends. Her brother, also a college bud, was there and it was nice to reconnect with everyone and reminisce. It was also nice to see her so happy with her new husband and looking forward to a new life. I laughed a lot...more than I have in a long time. The margaritas were great, and I started to relax for the first time in what seems like forever.

 

Today, hubby had to get up early (much to my hangover's displeasure) and head to the airport for Vegas. He packed and I got up in enough time to drive him. My mom came in last night so she could help me out. When she is town, I get a nap here and there, an extra set of hands, and some good conversation. When she's here, I am forced to slow down. Because she is a guest and I don't see her often, I put the laundry, dishes, straightening, errands, and household chores on the backburner. Today, I took her to get her hair done at a nice place. While she was there, I took the girls to a nice, leisurely lunch on a patio. While they fed the ducks, I sipped my iced tea in peace laughing at how cute and funny they are. We ran a few errands, laughing and singing the whole time. We picked up my mom and headed to the mall. She lives on a lake, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, so shopping is left to Wal Mart and a few bait shops. She had a few things to get before an upcoming overseas vacation, so I helped her find what she needed. Along the way, I found a few things I needed. The girls were being really good, and we just had a nice afternoon. We had nowhere to be and no one was expecting us back. Our husbands weren't around, so we felt like we could leisurely shop and take or time. My oldest daughter was happy with a trip to Libby Lu and the candy store. We all left with something great in hand. Mom found some stuff for her trip; I got two new pair of CUTE shoes; and my daughter also got a new pair of shoes and some perfume that she concocted at Libby Lu. She thinks is smells, quote, "divine." I sneeze 10 times every time I catch a whiff of it!

 

We got back home and as the baby napped, we kicked back and just talked. I picked up some salads for dinner, and we all ate together while the oldest practiced her spelling and sight words with her Nana, who was a Kindergarten and first-grade teacher for almost 35 years.

 

Then we all went into the living room and just hung out. The baby was delighted to have everyone's full attention. It was actually nice to just play with her one on one. Normally, I'm doing a household chore  of some sort, paying attention to her here and there just enough so she won't fuss. I let everything else go to the wayside, climbed in my comfies, and just hung out with my mom and my daughters. No tension whatsover. My mom used to French braid my hair when I was a kid. It's certainly not a flattering look for anyone over the age of 10, but in that my oldest in 5, I was so excited to learn how. I need to practice some more, but I think I have it. Poor Kate, she is going to be sick of me trying to chase her down and practice braiding her hair!

 

It was a great feeling.

 

Tomorrow, my mom is going to watch the baby so that my oldest daughter and I can go to a kid movie. We might go get pedis, too. I need to run a few errands, and it will be nice to have my hands free to do so. I dread the thought of work tomorrow, because I have a lot of it to do. But at least someone is here to watch and play with the kids so I don't have to worry. More so, I dread the week ahead knowing how much I have to accomplish in such a short amount of time. Without hubby here, it will be hard. I know it means a lot of late nights. There just aren't enough hours in the day. I look forward to the paycheck from these projects, but it's certainly not "easy money."

 

It's nice to look forward to relaxing, though. I know tomorrow will be somewhat relaxing. I have my last day of Sunday School teaching, which is nice. I'll get some work out of the way....do a little shopping...get a pedicure...maybe see a movie. And the countdown to Mexico has begun. Also found out that through hubby's work, we'll have a little vacation to the wine country in October so that's something fun to look forward to as well. I like having things to look forward to.

 

Summer is here in Texas. We saw about 100 today, and next week is high 90s. No more guessing if it's warm enough to swim. The answer is yes. Today when I was complaining about the heat, my daughter chimed in saying how much she hated hot cars. And then she found the bright side....

 

"But it's popsicle weather again!"

 

True.....

 

Later in the evening, I could smell everyone's outdoor barbecues going. Kids were playing outside, and I could hear families splashing around in their pools. Everyone at the mall today had on shorts and flip flops. I can't believe it's that time again. It goes by so fast.... This time last year we were just moving in to the house and had contractors everywhere. The work was so immense that we had to live in a hotel for a few weeks, and then with hubby's mom. Olivia was barely six months old and still in that "blob" stage where you just cart them around and give them bottles. Kate didn't know how to swim....now she's well on her way. She was still very "pre-schoolish"....now she's headed to Kindergarten. I felt like our house would never get done, and we'd never have enough money to do all I wanted to it. We had so much to buy--I wondered if we'd ever pay for it all. Well, the house is just about done except for one or two small projects...and everything is paid for. And we didn't go broke in the process. In fact, I think on Memorial Day a year ago is when Alleycat threw a big bash at her casa and three couples all had immense hangovers the next day. I can't believe that was a year ago.

 

It goes by so fast.... especially when you're too damn busy to even realize Memorial day is just days away. My sister asked me what we were doing for the holiday and I said, "I haven't thought that far ahead." She told me it was next week. I could have sworn to her that it was at least two weeks away. So yeah, I probably needed a rest like this.

 

And speaking of rest, I am going to go to bed. I'm not going to watch t.v. or read a magazine. I'm just going to sleep....and sleep....

 

'til next time.

 

 

 

 

So stop me if you’d heard these before…..

 

Picture yourself in these situations. Keep in mind these are factual events that actually took place. These are real events that happened to real people.

 

Scenario 1.

It’s your birthday—a day that is all about you. Because it’s on a Saturday, the possibilities are endless. Your mother-in-law works for a non-profit homeless shelter. She is a volunteer coordinator. It is her job to get warm, non-homeless bodies to fundraising events. When she asks you and your husband—her son—to come along, she must mean business. When you commit, she reveals it’s on your birthday. You wince at the thought of spending the day with clowns, face-painters, and petting zoo folks. Yes, your 3-year-old daughter will have fun, but the selfish girl inside would rather be on the patio sipping a few ‘ritas.

 

Hubby says the usual, “We’ll make an appearance.” When you have a pre-schooler, anything with balloons and games lasts longer than an appearance. Just about the time you see a window of opportunity for escape, the mother-in-law invites you over so she can cook you a home-cooked meal, her gift to you. Knowing full well, the drama that would ensue by saying ‘no,’ you agree. After all, she knows you don’t have plans. The dinner consists of all of your husband’s favorite dishes. Who’s birthday is it again? And then she mentions, “I don’t really like to bake, so I’m sorry I didn’t bake you a cake and I didn’t have time to pick one up.” No big deal. Honestly, I really don’t care.

 

But here’s where I start to care. After a few too many glasses (er, tumblers) of wine, MIL decides to start reminiscing about her son’s wild behavior as a teen. I know most of the stories, so courteously laugh along. Then she decides to steer the conversation toward his sexual escapades as a lad. Let’s see….. She mentions how he kept condoms in a jewelry-type of box beside his bed…how she found some of those said condoms “used” around the house….how she one time walked in on the very activity that involves that form of birth control when he thought she was gone for the day. She kept going. To her, it was a laugh a minute. Oh, her boy was so silly as a teen-ager. Did I mention that I was at the table, as well as our pre-school daughter?  Apparently, as she told the tale of shooing a horny teen-age girl off of her lawn at 1 a.m., she forgot that little tidbit.

 

Ah yes, happy birthday to me.

 

Scenario 2:

 

My mother-in-law is a widow. Not necessarily a sad, grieving widow. Her marriage wasn’t a good one, and although she was and is sad about the loss of her husband more than five years ago, it’s obvious she feels a sense of freedom. After about a year of mourning, she decided to jump into the dating game. Men came and went. For the most part, we never met them. One time, she hooked up with her old high school boyfriend. He actually moved in with her. She completely tried to integrate him into our lives. I had a strange feeling about him from the beginning. So did hubbie. It was too much, too soon. Sure enough, he was a con. He knew there was a trust involved with the death, and he and his “girlfriend” were working together to get a piece of it. Way to go MIL! I love how you bring complete strangers you know nothing about (other than what he was like at 14) into our lives. Nice.

Moving on….. Eventually MIL meets “The One.” He’s actually a nice, stand-up guy. Family man, divorced, with four kids. A pretty much down-to-earth guy. He’s not my favorite person, but he seems good for her. She tells us all about him and casually mentions to hubby that New Boyfriend’s daughter-in-law thinks she knows him from college at North Texas. Now this is a name you won’t forget—Karma.

As soon as hubby hears that name, I saw his face and ears turn red. The first thing that pops into my mind—he slept with her.

Now what are the chances in a city—in a world—this big that your mom is going to fall in love and become engaged to a man with a son who marries an old college “booty call” girl. Slim to none. But my life is living proof.

It takes me about an hour to drag it out of hubby, but he admits it. He doesn’t admit to sleeping with her, but he does admit to doing everything but after a drunken party when everyone sort of crashed in his dorm suite. Doesn’t present an awkward situation at all, now does it?

Oh, and it gets better. Turns out that hubby and the husband of Karma become friends. They have a lot in common—music, guitars, and oh yes….the business they are in. Hubby’s company hired Karma’s husband’s company for networking services. They are now partners of sort. Fabulous! (No her husband doesn’t know the juicy details of their one night of shared passion….)

But lucky me! Let’s not forget me! I get to ask Passion Girl, “Could you please pass the potatoes (slut)” at Thanksgiving. I get to make idle chit-chat with her while our darling children play outside.

This week, I hit the jackpot. This fine “family friend” is the same one who reveals the babysitting incident to me. It’s like she is embarrassed about what I must know and how obvious is that the past is never really the past. So she had to take a little dig to so she is “on my side.” It will be us against the babysitters. Moms, unite!

Give me a break.

 

Scenario 3.

Just as all married couples do, my husband and I shared most of our pasts with each other long before we ever became engaged. Notice I use the word most—for both of us.

I knew that his long-time high school girlfriend was named Lisa. I also know that she was downright gorgeous. In fact, my oldest daughter saw a picture of her once and actually said, “Wow Mommy…she is pretty!” Children…what a joy.

Anyway, their relationship was typical in that it involved a lot of teen-age drama. Her dad didn’t like my husband. Their was the threat of moving away and the “We can’t live without each other” angst that goes along with it. There was “firsts,” too. You know what I mean. I’ve read letters from her. She was quite smitten, for sure.

When it came time for college, they shared one last night. They fought. They broke up. Hubby didn’t want to be tied down in college, and understandably so. He is at a party and sees old friends that went to the same college where she was. He hears the rumor that she’s pregnant. He obviously freaks out, and asks to meet her so they can talk. She says it was true, but that she miscarried shortly after her parents found out and threatened to disown her. They remained apart—relationship over. They never spoke again.

Fast forward 10 or so years. It’s a Saturday morning and I’m cleaning the house. Phone rings. I don’t recognize the last name, but the first name is ‘Lisa’ and the area code is local. It’s a young girl asking for my husband. I explain that he isn’t there and ask if I can take a message. She asks if he went to a certain junior high in what was actually his home town nearby. I told him that name sounded familiar, but I wasn’t for sure. She asked if he was friends with so-and-so. I told her I didn’t know. Then I just ask, “Why do you want to know these things?”

She says, “I am looking for my father. My mom gave me some information, and I’m trying to track him down.” We talked for about another minute, and some of the information she gave didn’t sound right. But what did sound right was the timeline and her mother’s first name.

You’d think I’d be in a state of panic. But I really wasn’t. Truly, what is…is. And what will be, will be. This was long before me, and he didn’t know anything about it. He walks in the door from playing tennis, sweaty and tired. I hand him the phone and tell him to look at Caller ID, the last number. He doesn’t recognize it, so I figure it’s probably Lisa’s new last name (if it’s even her.)

I tell him the story and his face got completely pale. Ghost white. He told me he felt sick. He asked if I was mad. I told him no…unless you already knew something about this. He didn’t.

Then he did something that surprised me. I figured the first thing he would do is call the girl back. He told me he didn’t want to, and that he was sure it wasn’t true. I couldn’t believe he could just let this go. I badgered him for two days about it. We talked about the what if’s over and over.

One evening, went into the study and shut the doors. He needed privacy. All I could hear was yes and no answers. And then I heard “Good luck.” He said he felt relieved at the outcome, but that he felt sorry for the girl because she sounded so hopeful. He went on a walk for a long time. I think it was one of the few times in his life that he was really and truly nervous to the point of being terrified. I realized one thing though…..My thoughts about him didn’t change. My feelings about us didn’t change. It was an example of how strong our marriage was. I was ready to deal with whatever life brought. I think he sensed that and truly appreciated it.

 

So, there you have it. Three scenarios that just don’t happen every day. Funny, they all involve my husband and not really in a great way. People often joke that I’m a saint for putting up with all that I do. I just laugh and say, “Oh, everybody has these moments.”

 

When I read back over them, I realize that can’t be true and yes, maybe I should be considered for sainthood! Or at least some sort of crown or medal. These are just three stories out of many, many more. So yeah, somebody crank up God Save the Queen and bring me my tiara and throne, for I am the self-crowned “Queen of I Can’t Believe You Put Up With This Shit.”

 

(….. gotta love him….. and I do. ;) )

That's how I feel right now. I thought maybe if I just did a rambling blog, I could figure out the source. I am going to try to self diagnose the reasons for my jitters.

 

OK....the potential reasons for my case of the jitters.

 

1. Vacation coming up. Yes it's supposed to be relaxing but with two small children in tow, let's be honest with ourselves. It will be MILDLY relaxing. And, hubbies don't "remember everything." From band aids to snacks to swim diapers, it's all up to me to remember everything we need and then some....to anticipate every what if and have us covered. It will take me all week to gather things up.

 

2. Money. I love it.... I hate it. I feel like we are hemmoraging lately.... bleeding money. From our recent landscaping project to summer clothes purchases for the family to two vacations to two car repairs plus more Target trips than I can count, this month has been monumental in expenditures. I had to get stuff for the trip today, and it just feel like I'm constantly handing over my credit card. Oh, and then there are mother's day gifts to buy....Agh!

 

3. My job. I have so much to do, as usual, that I can barely keep up. I hate barely keeping up. I like being ahead. I don't feel ahead. I have so much due in the next two weeks it's crazy. I know it will get done, but it won't be easy getting there. It's just a constant nagging feeling.

 

4.  My job, part II. I think another reason for the jitters is guilt. My designer guy, who wasn't doing so great, was fired last week. It was for various reasons, and many that had nothing to do with me at all. But sometimes I wonder if my expressed displeasure and some not so great advice I gave him contributed to it at all. I believe in karma..... so I hope not. I was by far not the only one who expressed displeasure, and people WAY higher up than me felt the same way. But still..... I just hate it when people are fired. Period. It just has a yucky taste to it.

 

5.  Summer. I thought I'd be more in shape right now. I'm better, but not "there." It bugs me.

 

6. Daycare woes. I get so pissed off at my daughter's school sometimes. She wears headbands to school but she doesn't leave with them. She "doesn't know what happened." Where could they be? I get on to her for not taking care of her things but it's like the teachers don't have a clue what happens to her headbands or her lunch. It's either "gone" or it wasn't eaten and the teacher says they didn't know it was there. It's in the same place every day, plainly labeled. Such a waste. I told her no more headbands today. I seriously think she's giving them to someone.... at $5 a pop, that is not a wise choice.

 

7. Daycare woes, Part II. I learned from a friend of the family this weekend that my babysitter's daughter who is also very young, hit my baby. She was disciplined for it but this girl has severe learning differences/autism so I don't know what good it did. I was mad that I wasn't told about it. The thing is, I know that my daughter could be in a daycare setting and get hit or bit by other kids at any given time. That's just the nature of kids being all piled into one room all day. However, a report would be sent home. I'd know about it. I was pissed at the family friend for bringing up at the FLIPPIN DINNER TABLE and putting me on the spot, essentially questioning my parenting skills. And, it was in front of my MIL which was weird, too. This family friend knows my babysitter and has used her, too. My personal opinion is that her teen-age daughter doesn't really like my babysitter's teen-age daughter and she is trying to "get back." This lady is bored out of her mind, IMO, and wants her friend (who happens to run an in home daycare) to get my business. AT least, that's what I think. Anyway, that is a topic that you bring up alone, or you make a courteous call. But to announce it out loud and just say, "I wouldn't bring my daughter there." Well, that's just weird and inappropriate.

 

However, I'm no dummy. I know that strange things can happen. I do know that my baby seems to love where she is and she loves the sitter, so much so that she literally runs in the door and into her arms in the mornings. She doesn't seem scared at all. And I know when she is unsure of someone. My oldest daughter was in her care for two years. I think I have a good intuition about things. My oldest daughter still goes in her house every day and hugs her and misses her. I was about to pull my baby out anyway b/c I think she is just about ready to enter a more social and structured setting, but it's been a joy to hardly have her sick, have someone give her one on one attention, and have a nice steady schedule. I don't doubt my choice at all. But when I think about the fact that my baby did get hit and I wasn't told about it, I get a little ticked off. I confronted the babysitter about it today and she said, "Yes, it happened once but it was very minor and I took care of it right away." Poor woman..... she has 3 kids, takes care of kids all day, and has a special needs daughter in the evenings. I'm sure she's scared I'm going to pull my daughter because of her daughter. I wouldn't want to be in that position--worried about your kids and your livlihood all at the same time which might or might not be dependent on each other. It's a tough place to be in, for both of us. I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet. Needless to say, this was a long-winded explanation to another reason for the jitters. And when and if I do pull her out of there, I still don't know where I want to take her. I haven't shopped around enough. I just don't know what I want to do. It is one of the hardes parts of being a working mom -- good childcare.

 

That's really all I can think of. Maybe it's all of that combined. I am glad we're escaping for the weekend, that Dar came back, and that (knock on wood) the kids are on the mend from colds. I still love my landscaping. I keep going outside and just looking at it. Those are all good things......

 

Well, I'm going to get some housework and trip preparation done. Maybe that will ease my jitters somewhat.

 

Or, maybe a glass of wine..... now we're talking.

 

Cheers.

Have I mentioned lately that I heart Lisa Loeb?

 

Well, I do.

 

But you wouldn't know that last night. Nope. Not a bit.

 

My job, as hard as it is, has some pretty cool perks now and then. We are sponsors for some tres cool events in town, and along with that comes invites and even better...VIP invites. Normally, I pass up a lot of these events. With two kids and living in the suburbs vs in-city, where most of these events take place, the logistics of being a party girl as a mom in my mid-ish 30s are painful at best. It's easier to stay home and watch a pay per view. However, when I found out we had 20 VIP tickets to Lisa Loeb, I couldn't pass it up. I emailed the gal in charge and requested two be saved back for me. I had a sitter and a fab outfit. The song, "Stay," has been on repeat in my brain for a month.

 

So we arrive, and the place is awesome. It's at a flight museum, which is actually pretty interesting, and the decorations are gorgeous. Drinks are a'flowing, and the appetizers are divine. The tickets were worth about $250 a piece for this (very important, I might add) fundraising event. Under no "normal" circumstances would we pay $500 for something like this. It was like taking a peek at "how the other half lives" so to speak. Because this is a medical fundraiser, most of the people in attendance are doctors, doctors wives, and friends of doctors and their wives. You catch my drift. Money for their tickets could probably be scraped up under their couch cushions. The best part is that our tickets gave us VIP reception access. We had... ONE HOUR ... to mix and mingle with Lisa (yeah, we're on a first-name basis...in my dreams) up close and personal. I imagined us chatting about her ex boyfriend who should be her now boyfriend, the LA music scene, how she misses Dallas, how cute my dress is, how cute her glasses are--you know typical bff stuff--over crab cakes and chardonnay. I had it all planned out in my head.

 

Not so much.

 

It's not that easy to spot Lisa Loeb at first. She is small. Make that tiny. I am 5'2, and I'm pretty sure she is shorter than me. She is so petite and so cute that you just want to hug her right away. Her skin is flawless, and her trademark cat-eye glasses are just too cool to describe. Once I caught sight of her, I just couldn't help but watch her. She had on a really cute flirty-type of party dress, sleeveless to show off killer biceps, and the most darling pair of ballerina flats ever. Gold, I think. I love a short girl who doesn't feel like she has to wear stilettos to be noticed. She was talking to so many people. At first, I couldn't figure out how she would know so many strangers, but then I realized that since her father is a doctor here, these are probably people who literally "watched her grow up." I kept waiting for a perfect moment to casually swing by and say hi. All of my opening lines were ridiculous. I'm a fan, but I didn't want to appear like a gushy teen-ager. And after, "I love your music and your new show" I'm not sure what else I'd have to say. She didn't have a group of "handlers." It would have been a cinch to speak to her I'm sure.

 

But.... I just couldn't do it. Hubby told me to just go up to her and say, "I'm a huge fan and looking forward to hearing you play." Easy enough. Nope. Couldn't do it. She was posing and taking pictures with everyone there. I even brought my camera. But if I couldn't get the nerve to say hello, how would I have the nerve to ask for a photo?

 

I am such a dork. It's not that I cared what she would think of me, it was more like I just didn't want to bother her. I'm sure she had enough people trying to get her attention, asking for photos, and complimenting everything from her funky highlights to her Hello Kitty pink guitar (signed and up for bid at the auction.)

 

So, I wish I could tell you how we bonded over stuffed mushrooms and then partied the night away post-show. I wish I could tell you that I got a "you're welcome any time" to her coolio apartment. I wish I could let you know which episode of No. 1 Single I'd be on because the camera crews were following us from bar to bar later. But, sadly, all I can tell you is that the food last night was only so-so. The bread pudding was good though. The bar was closed when she sang so that everyone could give their full attention, so everyone at my table double-fisted it prior. We didn't bid on anything, but the prizes were rock star in quality. I had about six glasses of white wine, which was about five too many. Oh, and hubby and I did something we never do. We went out to a real bar with friends after the show. For about 30 minutes, we were 21 again. Well, kind of. And I can tell you we got home around midnight, which I'm sure was right about the time Lisa was entering one of the city's most exclusive VIP clubs. I have been tired and a tad hung over all day since I continued my wine-fest into the night. Oh well, a girl's gotta have something right?

 

So, that is my oh-so-close-yet-not-close-enough brush with Lisa Loeb. I guess for now, her Greatest Hits album (in stores now!) and tivo'd No. 1 Single episodes will have to do.

 

I'm such a chicken!

 

'Til next time....

 

(Oh yes, in my title I promised Other Weekend Adventures. Let's see..... Well, there was laundry. Going to mother in law's fiance's 60th birthday party and getting really confused about something (future blog), going to get ice cream in the rain, taking the kids to the park today, cooking enchiladas, and well..... that's about it. Sea World is just days away, so I'm allowed to boring for now I suppose. Plus, this celebrithy lifestyle I lead is just so incredibly exhausting! Oops, gotta run. I need to fold towels and find clean PJs for my daughter. Yeah.... celebrity lifestyle. Mmmm hmmmm.....)

 

 

I went through the drive-through at Wendy’s today and I literally did just that—drive through. I did not stop to order. I just stayed in the line, inching my way up. I decided what to order…chicken nuggets for my daughter and a large Diet Coke for myself. I guess I thought the guy in the window had ESP and he’d just know. I get up there and realize he has no clue what I want. He realizes he doesn’t have a total for the non-existent order. I look at him and say, “It’s just a drink and some nuggets. Can you put the order through for me?”

 

He shakes his head no and looks at me like I’m nuts. So what if I am?

I look right at him and say, “Dude, I am freaking worn out. Do I really have to drive all the way around and start over?”

 

He answers yes and shrugs his shoulders. So I drive back around and start over. My kid was hungry and I didn’t want to cook. It was truly the best solution for everyone involved.

 

It’s not his fault I’m tired. It’s not even my fault I’m tired. It’s just, well, life I guess. It’s really kind of humorous when I sit back and look at this week, realizing that it’s only Thursday. So much has transpired in such a short amount of time.

 

It starts on Monday. It is our next to last day to get the magazine to the printer. Crunch time. Everyone is on edge. I am particularly on edge because both of my stories are not even close to being finished, with only 24 hours left to go. I had all of my stuff in on time. However, in a crazy place called Magazine Land, it really doesn’t matter what one person does…it matters what everyone does. We all depend on each other. I have had a new designer for my special sections for a few months. He’s good at what he does and has quite a bit of talent. However, he has never designed for a magazine before. The deadlines and “we need it yesterday” nature of the biz has him a bit flustered. And he’s young. He has a bit of a ‘tude as well, which I find strangely amusing in a place where peers can fire you. But, on with the story….

 

Every day this week, I have been at work until around 9 at night, getting home around 10. This is after a full day of stress during the regular work hours. The amount of effort required to get a magazine out is phenomenal. I only had two sections, and it seemed like nothing short of a miracle that we pulled it off. One section alone was 32 pages. Tuesday was the last day of ship week. I get up early, ready to hit the ground running and light a fire under New Designer Guy’s hiney. I get the oldest dressed and fed and bounce upstairs to do the same for the baby. She is still asleep, which isn’t like her. I scoop her up. She is en fuego. I knew it was fever, but I didn’t want to believe it. There is no way I could miss work that day. Sure enough, up and up it went….almost to 103. Her eyes were droopy and she wanted to go back to sleep. She wouldn’t eat or drink. Bad news.

 

I call hubby at his work and give him my panicked news. He was in the middle of a meeting and (thank God) said he could work from home the rest of the day. He knows that the only time I can really “get in trouble” at work is if I’m not pulling my weight during crunch time. So I stay home with the baby until he gets there. I give him instructions and dash out to the car. I turn the ignition. Nothing. Just earlier that morning I had told hubby that my car was sounding funny when I tried to start it. We both wondered how that could be, since we had just gotten it out of the shop on Saturday, after a 60,000 mile check where it was given a clean bill of health. I wind up taking his car to work, leaving him without wheels. I stress the whole time about an emergency. He and the baby would be stranded.

 

I drop the oldest off at school and remember it’s field trip day. They have to wear their orange shirts. Fortunately, I haven’t been organized at all lately and the shirt was tossed in the back somewhere. I rush back inside and hand it to her. I decide a huge Diet Coke is in order. I get it and drive on in a downpour, only to have to slam on my brakes. There goes the Diet Coke, all over my husband’s nice clean and recently detailed car. Ouch. Oh, and the ice conveniently landed in my purse. I get out—in the rain and dressed in work clothes—and scoop out ice and try to mop up the spill with a few of his golf towels. That’s kind of like trying to mop up a small lake with a Kleenex.

 

As I have mentioned before, haircut and highlight day is something akin to a religious experience for me. Tuesday was that day. I realize that there is no way I can take an hour or so out of my day like that with deadlines looming and a sick baby at home. So, reluctantly, I cancel. It was a real pisser because I have that benefit dinner and concert this weekend, and it would have been nice to look at least somewhat cute.

 

I get to work and we work all day on the section. It’s 9 p.m. on Tuesday, and the design was not up to snuff to the designer’s boss. So we all go home, but are expected to be back at 6 a.m. to hammer it out and ship it to print.

 

The next day, the baby seems the same. No improvement. I scoop her up and take her to work with me to finish the section. A baby at work is hard enough. A fussy sick baby is sheer misery. Let’s just say I didn’t win any Employee of the Month awards this week. I at least showed all of the newly married 20-somethings in the office a bit about reality though. So my good service deed is done for the week, in my opinion. I was in a sit and wait period, so I drove all the way from Uptown back up the Tollway to the pediatrician. Ear infection. She gets the pink stuff. I get a call saying my match prints are ready to check off. Back down the Tollway to the office we go. Good thing gas is so cheap these days…..

 

I get to work and check the prints. At one point, I am standing up at my desk, snot-nosed fussy baby on my hip, and typing out an email with one hand, while talking on the phone. That should be the REAL cover of Working Mother magazine; not some happy, shiny, smiling mom in pressed khakis and a perfect tailored white blouse cooing at her bundle of joy. I get my work done and we’re off to the pharmacy. After the baby pulls off every cough medicine packet from the shelf she can find, we get our prescription and head home.

 

All I can envision is a nice long nap for both of us. Then it dawns on me. It’s housecleaning day. As much as I am overjoyed at the prospect of a clean house, I realize the baby won’t nap with vacuums and such going on. And oh yeah, this was the day hubby asked our handyman guy to come by and start on the front yard landscaping. Thankfully, the housekeeper was finished upstairs. Baby can sleep. I’ll wait. The other guys are outside. I see a window of opportunity for rest. The doorbell rings. Hubby had asked for a bid on staining the arbor. Argh. He finishes. I hit the bed. Phone rings. Hubby letting me know he bought me two magnolia trees (my favorite and long-been-asked for trees) and wants to discuss where we should plant them in the back yard. We discuss. We decide. I start to drift. Doorbell rings. Guys outside have questions. Back to bed. Housekeeper has a question and then is ready to leave.

 

Eventually, all is quiet and I figure I have about 1 hour to rest before getting the oldest. So I do. It was blissful. All of that, and it was only Wednesday afternoon. And oh yeah, got my car back during all of that ordeal. Dead battery. Apparently, it went unnoticed in the check-up. Hmmmm…..

 

So today was better. My hair gal squeezed me in. I am all highlighted and happy. Issue is off to press and I’m well on to my next project. Antibiotics are starting to kick in for the baby. Oldest daughter learned she earned her gold belt in karate AND she swam completely unassisted for the first time ever today in swim class. The lawn guys finished today and I just can’t keep myself from going outside and looking at the finished project. I love it so much. We had set aside money for this a long time ago and found someone who could do it for much, much less than we anticipated. I wasn’t expecting to do it so soon, but I am thrilled with the result. I also love my magnolia trees – one in honor of Kate, and the other of Liv. Magnolias remind me of my granddaddy. I think they are so peaceful and pretty. I hope we’re here long enough to watch them grow tall and big. House is clean. Pool fence is up. Car is running. Vacation #1 is one week from today. Once I get the bills paid tonight, I can breathe again. I am having a work-from-home day tomorrow to catch up on writing, and Saturday is my Lisa Loeb dinner/concert which I’m totally stoked about (maybe I’ll get to meet her!)

 

(And on a strange blog dork note, I always get in a good mood when I know that Cori and Keith are going to see each other. It sort of makes everything right in the world and puts love way back into fashion again. (Have fun guys!) )

 

So, there you have it. Just another week.....

 

Time for bed....'til next time...