It's Not About Me: Santa & Dr. Kaplan

My freshman year college roommate has been recently married to a wonderful man that has been in her life for years now. I think I can speak for all of the college gals that we adore this guy. He is a great dad to her beautiful daughter (who my boy has a major running older-girl crush on) and I have to say he makes a pretty good lasagna, too.

It was a lovely surprise this morning to open the paper and see him smiling back at me.


Turns out the good doctor performed some life-saving surgery on Santa this year, and the big man came back in person to thank him and visit the kids at his hospital. You can read the whole lovely story in the NY Post.

Our friend doesn't seem like the type that would like a whole bunch of news about himself, but it was the sweetest article, and I just needed to share.

If that's not good inspiration for holiday spirit, I don't know what is.

It's Not About Me: Nature

Well, Mother Nature counts as a special person, doesn't she? And we all know her.


This morning we were all finishing up a yummy breakfast of eggs, eggnog donuts and mango while a lovely buck wandered into our yard all by his lonesome. Can you see his antlers?

The snow is just gorgeous in our neck of the woods, even if it does make the roads a bit treacherous here and there. There's no better reason to light a fire and snuggle up together. Or, have a little bit of wine and cheese with the kids. (Yes, yes, the wine is just for me and C...have a little faith, people.)


Stay warm, everyone, and enjoy the snowy ramp-up to Christmas. We are.

It's Not About Me: H1202

You know, I'm a lucky gal. I have some amazing friends (so you've noticed, if you've been reading). There's always a good story or two floating around this house about folks we know.

I've decided for the rest of the month, I'm going to make all my posts about some of my amazing friends or people I know. I'm too busy trying to make this consultant thing work to be of much interest myself, anyhow. (Okay, and maybe the kids here and there; it's the holidays and it would be hard to leave them out.)

Let me introduce you to H1202 (the nickname is...well, don't worry about it). H came into my life as a co-worker and significant other to one of my good friends. H is now considered a full-on close friend, someone I would consider one of my "girls". They live close to us and have two adorable little boys and we get to eat and hang at each others' places every now and again, which is always a good time, and never often enough.

She is smart, sassy (in a grown-up, take-no-prisoners way, not a Bratz doll way) and knows more about more stuff than I think could ever possibly fit in my head.

H went through breast cancer 10 years ago and kicked its ass. She is an exemplary model of what you can do when you put your mind to it.

In honor of this anniversary, she applied for, and got accepted to, run the Boston Marathon for the Dana Farber team. If you know anything about the Boston Marathon or breast cancer, this is a VERY BIG DEAL. H has never run a marathon before.

Check out her new blog, 10 Years Cancer Free and Running the Boston Marathon!, which will exist for the duration of training through the marathon only. Like I said, she's a smart gal and she writes a hell of a lot better than I would about what she went through and why she's doing the marathon.

Keep up with her progress...root her on with us. Check in for inspiration. Make a donation if you're so inclined. And learn something...she is full of info about what is going on around the topic of cancer today. She's also got a facebook group on her effort if you'd like to check that out.

10 years cancer-free and 100 more for you, I hope, H. Best wishes! We are so proud.

G .... That is Beautiful

Some of you may stumble on my blog via pve design. If you do, you know how talented and charming she is. You may now add that you are completely jealous of me because:

(a) I get to actually be in-person friends with this lovely woman, and...
(b) I have a beautiful piece of her work in my home.

I had asked P (it's de rigueur here on LoveMomWorkLife to go by first initial only) if she could do something special for my daughter's room. G is nine months old, and I've made a genuine effort not to decorate it like a baby's room; pastels have never been my thing. This is G's blanket. (To give credit where it's due, it was a custom order from Maddie Boo via TraLaLa in Irvington. And yes, those are FLOR toy poodle tiles on G's floor.)


I want the room to grow with her; when she saw my frame, she said good-humoredly that it was kind of "baby goth". (Nailed it.)

So I asked if she could do a "G" for me. And I left it up to her. She asked for G's bedding and came and saw her room. Let me show you what she's brought for us.


Isn't it gorgeous! We are too lucky, and little miss G will have the most decadent piece of work to keep in her room, hopefully for a long time.

Well, if you don't know PVE (you poor, poor thing) you must check her out. She does custom work and I have never heard of anyone being anything but unbelievably delighted.

Last look...all together:

You're Going to See This Differently When You're Older

I had a really hard time titling this one.

There's really no way to fully appreciate the insanity that presents itself in everyday interactions with one's children, particularly something that illustrates the amazing change that happens in one's perceptions as they move from childhood to adulthood.

C and I have a running joke that G, our 9-month-old daughter, has a bigger rear end than our 4-year-old son, O. It should be noted O is a little smaller than "average" for his age and requires pants with an adjustable waist, and G is a bit on the heftier side of "average".

Last night, we actually sat them next to each other on the couch, and were like, yup, G's tush is bigger. (She is going to kill me when she is older for this.) She's a baby! She has baby fat. It's the cutest thing, really.

Then it happened. O had a meltdown.

"NOOOOOooooooooo! My tush is bigger than HERS!!! She does not! Nooooooo...!!!!" (crying ensues). Oh God, what did we do.

G, meanwhile, looks at him, and us, in complete bewilderment.

"No, buddy, no, no...it's not a bad thing...why are you getting upset? Don't get upset...she's just a baby, and babies are chubby...."

"NOOOOOOO!!! I don't want her to have a bigger tush than me! (Crying, sobbing, insanity) Nooo!!!" We hug him. Tell him it's ok. Try to explain, and he is not having it.

So, here is my son, yelling at me that he wants a bigger rear. Seriously.

To finally get through to him, C and I point out what is pretty evident to anyone else. My rear is bigger than my husband's. It's a "girl thing", that we're shaped differently, we say. (I know...it doesn't really apply to a 9-month old, but work with us.)

You can't get tickets to anything better.

We Go Out Sometimes

Well, that sounds kind of lame. Okay...we don't get out quite as much with two kids. But we still know how, dammit. But on Saturday night we had a great time at our friend's surprise birthday in Manhattan.


Happy Birthday R! You are a classy chick, a wonderful neighbor, and a great friend.

We hit the roof bar afterwards for a quiet moment of our own, too. Yay.

Thanks

There are so many things to be thankful for. Our families are the first. Life may get crazy sometimes but we are lucky to have parents and siblings to share our lives and to share our children with.


I'm thankful for having two wonderful kids and an awesome husband. I love him and he loves me; regardless of what happens, that much I know.

Wishes to you all for a wonderful thanks-filled day.

Aruba 2008

Last week, we came back from our family vacation in Aruba. We have been about 5 or 6 times before, and we always go with my husband's family - his parents, brother and sister-in-law, and usually an aunt and uncle too. (I'm one of those lucky folks who actually enjoys my in-laws quite a bit!)


These are the moments I relish the most on vacation.



We had a grown-up night out with my brother- and sister-in-law. It was a blast and completely silly; after a delish dinner we hit a piano bar. We said "one drink"...I think we left after about 6.


You get to take pictures like this, that you never have time for at home...



The coconut flan finale to family dinner out presented with great flourish by O.

We took O on a submarine ride, which was truly cool - shipwrecks and coral reefs and lots of sea life he's never seen. Down 130 feet and you get the "wow"...



Our last big dinner night out pooped out our little party girl.


Mmm. Happy.

I have been really lame.

I'm sorry, blog. I haven't been paying attention to you, ignored you on vacation, and just haven't kept you up to date with my goings-on.

What's happened in these last two+ weeks since the election? Hmm.

I've been trying to get that free agent thing moving. Working with some very lovely folks and meeting new people. Feeling lucky even though much money isn't coming in yet. I have faith for that. It will happen. More to come soon.

I got myself on facebook. Yeah, yeah, it's about time.

I am on Twitter. Trying to figure out how to have it feed into the blog. Which should be easy enough, I think.

I submitted some articles to a site I'm working with, travelingmom.com. I'll let you know when they get posted.

I met a great gal named Beth who owns rolemommy.com. Check out the site...she has a great sense of humor and if you're a mom, you'll pretty much always relate to where she's coming from.

Oh yeah, and we went to Aruba! Okay, I'll do a separate post with lots of pics on that tomorrow.

Forgive me.

Wow.

It's been a long time since I posted, but I can't help but do this right now, even though I was hoping to catch up with Halloween and some fun stuff first. Anyhow, apologies for the dry spell but you're just going to have to wait for those Halloween shots.

Barack Obama was just predicted to win the presidency by all three major news networks. History has been made.

I have friends and family that I am certain did not vote the way that I did. I, for the first time a good number of years, voted for the president-elect, for Senator Obama. I am thrilled. I'll even admit my eyes welled up with tears as the networks all announced the prediction at 11pm.

John McCain is giving a gracious concession speech right now. Honestly, one of his best of his entire campaign--emotional, inspirational, genuine. The negative vibe from his followers in the crowd is palpable, which is unfortunate and he is doing his best to dissuade...but perhaps it's just a vocal handful.

C isn't home--away for work in Boston. We've been on the phone on and off much of the evening. Kind of in disbelief, and excited.

Entering the election period, I had the usual concern that I was going to have to vote for the least offensive candidate. I tend to shy away from politics, and dislike the negativity that reminds me of middle school torture. I am typically insulted by the level of discourse that they think should satisfy most Americans. While there seemed to be enough of this to go around, I do feel like Obama took the high road, for the most part. Admittedly, both campaigns had their divisive moments, and both campaigns had their high points. One clearly balanced a bit better than the other.

I'm a registered independent. I've voted with both parties in the past, though primarily Democratic for presidential elections.

I feel like, for once, someone gave me the respect I deserve and earned my vote. He didn't tell me how to vote, he told me how it was. He showed he was intelligent and thoughtful and knew more than simply the party-line worldview. He speaks to everyone with the same tone, one that I think will resound strongly with our allies and aid in foreign relations.


This election was more important to me than ever because of my children. I don't want anyone leading this country through anger or resentment, or even someone who uses a snarky tone to communicate to the public. I don't want them to see a leader that believes aggression is a first means of approaching an issue. I don't want them to see us living in a "bully" nation. I want them to be proud and I want them to genuinely understand the value of all human beings and what anyone can contribute to this world.

I am really proud of our country for making this decision. I am thrilled to see the excitement throughout the entire country! When have we ever seen celebrations like this over an election? This is the passion America is supposed to feel, all the time. I took pictures of my TV, as you can see.

I can't wait to see what happens tomorrow. How will the world perceive us now?
Very, very differently.

G is 2/3 of a year old!

That's 8 months! Big girl.

She now has FIVE teeth...two bottom middles and the two "fangs" up top, plus her right top middle finally poked through.


Very serious tonight. Must be worried about getting old already.

Leave Us Together

The leaves are just so gorgeous in our neck of the woods right now that C and O couldn't help themselves but rake up a few big piles. They came and got G and I to jump right in with them.

One of our neighbors walked by and offered to take a picture of us all in the leaves...heck yes! Like C and I are ever in a photo together any more...well, figures...neither of the kids looked at the camera.


Beautiful, beautiful fall day. Saved the best for last...

WHOA! WHOA! Whoa, there, buddy...

(photo of O as he woke up the other morning...completely upside-down)

My four-year-old son informed me today on the way home from school that he was getting married in the park tomorrow to his current preschool girlfriend, who shall remain nameless. I am certain she is a lovely little girl...but jeez! He's four. (And a quarter, as he would add.) Not to mention a proper wedding requires a bit of planning.

So I also bring his little bud home, as we carpool. So his pal asks, "where are you going to live?"

And he repeats our address. So I say, "Wait, you and '___' are going to live with us?"

"No!" he says, with a giant grin on his face. "California!"

Help.

G's Christening

Our little girl was baptized Sunday. Here she is in all of her splendor.


Her gown was actually "donated" by my aunt, my godmother. She picked it up in a children's store that she worked at ages ago when it was going out of business...figuring she may have a granddaughter someday! It was positively beautiful and somehow, remarkably...fit perfectly. Had an antique feel to it.

We even got the boy dressed up. (Well, we all did.) Do you see big brother holding her hand?


Of course, you can't let a 7 1/2 month old who's as active as she is stay in that gown all day. So she had a costume change.


Note the shoes. My friend D has the BEST taste. Whoppers.
(In case you can't tell...they are leopard-print pony-hair flats. D&G. With a delicious tiny white leather bow. Every little girl should be so inspired, so young.)

God bless you little girl; you were the most wonderful angel all day.

Tennis Lessons Started Again

O started tennis again. Look at that form!

Backhand practice on Friday. I'm so proud. He likes tennis so much more than any other sport so far.

Begin Again, Lady, with Grace

I have parted ways with my current employer. All about the math.

Revenue needed, clients can't commit, salaries to be paid, time ticking, I was most exposed.
And...there you go.

Not entirely unexpected, which is why I've been entertaining freelance opportunities. I will admit my heart has not been in it lately at work...slowly, slowly realizing after having a second child that priorities continue to tilt and spin as life evolves. And that what seemed "good enough" perhaps wasn't.

Don't get me wrong; I am grateful for the flexibility I was allowed. I'm thrilled with all that I learned. It's made me significantly more qualified for the current day. I am much more valuable now than when I walked in that door.

I am lucky to have remained in contact with good, smart people. It's time to make a change and do something that is more fitting. In other words...I'm not going back to an agency.(Okay...maybe on a project basis, to make some cash...hey, we have bills to pay!) But not in a client-management, day-to-day role.

This is my opportunity to change for good, to get more time at home with the kids, to never have to feel stressed about my priorities being in the right place.

I'm ready to crack the code somehow. Wish me luck!

Tagged Again!

Oh goodness, that Kwana gets me in trouble.

You can see my first "tag" post to get an idea of what it's all about but it seems the rules this time are:

Link to the person who tagged you. (Kwana)

Post the rules on your blog. (here they are)

List 6 unspectacular quirks you have. (ooh, I probably have more than that.)

Tag 6 bloggers by linking them.

Leave a comment on each person’s blog to let them know they’ve been tagged.

Six unspectacular quirks about me.

1. I prefer short nails. Very short. Not a manicure girl. Also keep the kids' nails very short. Long nails actually gross me out a bit.

2. I don't really like pizza. This is particularly quirky for a 1/2-Italian American girl. Used to pull all the cheese off as a kid.

3. I talk a lot. I tend to have a story for everything. I can relate to just about anybody.

4. I cannot drink coffee with milk. It must have half-and-half or really, the experience does nothing for me.

5. I have some strange desire to go against the grain on most things. An example: my daughter's wardrobe. I think she owns more blue clothing than my son. I don't buy pink for her...for him, sure.

6. Compulsive email checker.

Who can I tag? Oh...forgive me, people...pve, Seleta, Fink, googs...aigh...can some of you regular readers just comment and give them to me? C'mon, help a girl out...volunteer.

Focus on Un-focus

That makes no sense. So today, I will pepper the ol' blog with some random thoughts that are plaguing me this week.

Planning a Christening for baby girl. Still need to figure out what she's wearing. She is a GIANT BABY so we need to sort out that gown thing and I think she'll change for the reception. A little non-traditional, but so is waiting 8 months to do it. Doing a family-only thing, not as big as O's (the family budget is somewhat tighter than in those one-kid, pre-renovation days...).

On G. Already noted, she is big. Adorable. Sitting up on her own. Third tooth came in an odd place, upper (expected, since she already had lower) but like two teeth over on the left side. Looks like the next one in is another bottom. She gets woken up by it sometimes, but in the last week she has ditched her last bottle in favor of sleep. Amen.

She talks. No, not real words (yet) but she is a chatterbox already. Especially while she's half asleep. Tells us a whole story in her darling little coos and noises while she is drifting back into dreamland. It is the most charming thing ever.

O. He wrote on his face with marker today because he thought it would look "cool". Still a little green post-bath.

What the heck with this debate nonsense? So how about this...I want to know what the heck you both think about this mess we're in. How about you move the debate to DC so you're traveling less and make the topic ONLY about the economy. Then tell me what you would do about it as president. All of a sudden it's not important for us to have presidential debates? Are you kidding? C informed me that we had a debate on the day we invaded Normandy. Let's go, people.

These new "I'm a PC" ads. Get your own idea. And advertise the product you actually sell, Microsoft. You don't sell PCs.

I'm overworked. My job is actually more than full time, it feels, I'm back in the swing of fall school shuttling (which I enjoy so I can't complain), and I am taking on freelance that I do starting at oh, 10pm at night. I know...I signed up for this. All in the name of evolution, I suppose. Keeping the eye on the target.

I'm feeling fat. Crap. I have to lose a little weight. Vacation in November. Don't want people to look at me with the..."oh, well, she did just have a baby" look.

Good grief we really need to get that driveway put in.

And jeez, it makes me crazy when I have to edit the auto fill-in post labels on Blogger. If I put a comma, dammit, I don't want auto-fill.

Okay. Done now. Why is G crying.

Dinner Surprise III

I have to say it wasn't much of a surprise but it worked well!

Last night I encouraged C to grill up an entire package of yummy Italian sausage (links). I suppose I didn't judge very well but we wound up eating maybe 1/4 of it. In the fridge it went.

So I was thinking, if I just leave it in the fridge it will totally go to waste, we'll never eat it if it stays in link-form. It was grilled already; we had it with grilled vegetables and cornbread.

Planning a laid-back night at home with the kids today, I grabbed it. Yes, we were going to have sausage again, damn it.

I also grabbed an onion, some zucchini and plum tomatoes from the farm market, and a handful of chopped cilantro. I cut the sausage into somewhat thin slices.

Olive oil in the pan; onion and zucchini. Just until both started getting soft. Threw in the sausage. Let it all carmelize a bit together.


About 2 minutes before I was ready to take it off, I threw in the tomato (good-sized chunks so it didn't totally fall apart) and the cilantro.

Took a fresh Italian bread with a little butter to have with it and soak up the juice...delicious.

Woo-hoo! Success. Happy family. We even threw the vegetables in the Cuisinart and G ate some too.

Now Here's the Way To Do It

Sometimes you can learn a lot from a four-year-old.

We are blessed to live in a very diverse neighborhood and have a fabulous set of neighbors in this diversity, as you've heard me brag about before.

O was at the playground this morning and was telling me that he was playing with a girl. I asked him what she looked like, to see if I could recall meeting her before.

He described her not as blonde but her hair was a "coffee" color. He always defaults to flavors when describing people. I think this is so great. (I've mentioned he has a food/cooking thing.)

People are "vanilla", "chocolate", even "coffee". It's just how they look and how to describe them to someone else. Clearly that's the only reason he even uses terms to differentiate. There's no reason to, otherwise.

So I encourage his flavor-descriptions. So does J, my nanny, who is a different "flavor" than me.

Is this the "right" way to handle it? I don't know. We're just doing our best, trying to teach him (and ultimately G) that all people are the same. They're people. They might look different but that's about it.

Next time you need to describe someone...maybe use a flavor, and see how it feels.

Slow Down, Speed Up

Time is flying. O is four, G is almost 6 months, preschool just started, Halloween is around the corner.

Work is busy, C's work is busy, I'm blessed with a little freelance, I keep thinking about what's next for work, gosh this house needs to be cleaned. (Again. Damn construction dust never leaves.)

Paint the porch and front door, get the driveway done, landscape, finish the siding on the garage. Finish the island, paint some inside, what are we doing with that backsplash.

We have to plan G's Christening, make and send invitations. Dentist and doctors' appointments for the kids, I need a haircut...oh crap; I just realized I have double-booked myself when I was supposed to have acupuncture tomorrow. Again.

Ugh, that new printer doesn't work with the Mac OS...return it, keep it? Submit everything for the C of O.


I can't wait for our vacation in two months - yay, two months!

I can't wait for holidays this year because I missed decorating so much last year.

I can't wait to see G crawl. Take her first steps. Say her first word.

I can't wait until next year when I hopefully reach the point where I can schedule every day based on my own priorities. When I take vacation when I want to and not because of the number of days I have left.


I can't make up my mind.
Images from aslpict.blogsome.com & tell.fll.purdue.edu, respectively.

Don't Let Your Monday Ruin Your Sunday

We had our block party this weekend, on Sunday because of the rain-out on Saturday. A friend noted that she saw "Don't Let Your Monday Ruin Your Sunday" on a t-shirt on a recent vacation.

It's genius. And it's something that I personally need to remind myself of on occasion.

I was so bummed out because I just felt like I'd have a better time on Saturday. I didn't have to worry about getting the kids down at a decent hour because we had work the next day, because today happened to be a kind of full day and a full week for me, work-wise.

Why do we do that to ourselves? I continually try to work myself out of bad habits I developed when I was a young workaholic living in the city. I look back on it and think, ok, fair enough to feel that way to get ahead in your career when you're that age...but jeez, do priorities change when you have kids.

And now with two...even more so! De-program, de-program, de-program.


On a more upbeat note, we had a great time at the block party. We are too lucky, our neighbors...our friends...rock.

Karaoke, Wii, potluck, apple bobbing, bouncy castle, local fire truck. Awesome.

(thanks E., for the quote.)

Brunette

So C and I just flicked on "Walk the Line" for the, I don't know...45th time? Love this movie.

I really think Reese Witherspoon needs to be a brunette. Always thought she was so striking in this film.

Johnny and June Carter Cash. What a story.

Not a Political Observation

So C and I were watching the RNC (and yes, we watched the DNC too, we are both registered independents). I may be really leaning one way, but I don't see how you can't watch both. We don't understand voting a party line.

I didn't mean to get so serious, there. There are a thousand comments and observations I could make after watching these. And I probably will eventually. But truthfully, since these things are propaganda machines for the most part...I want the debates.

On to my far more light-hearted point.

It's the close of the convention and McCain and Palin are walking the stage together. Their spouses are on the other end of the stage, also together.

I say to C, "What do you think Cindy McCain and Todd Palin talk about?"
His answer has to be dead-on.

"Beer."

What is Wrong with People? Volume I

What is Wrong with People? is most likely going to wind up becoming a recurring topic, driven mostly by other parent interactions. Because I don't know what is wrong with some people out there.

Anyhow. I dropped G off at the park today after her doc's appt. (It went very well, she is 18 lbs, 7.5 oz...90th percentile in weight. My big bundle of love who is happy, healthy, and a smartie.)

J, our nanny, deftly and tactfully pointed out someone that she had mentioned before to me. This was the woman who had actually asked to check the tags in the back of my son's shirt to see where it was from some time ago.

Was she checking to see the brand name? Did she like it and want it for her child? Or (more likely) was she attempting to find out what kind of background that O came from based on what he was wearing?

I had heard from other mothers that they experienced this at a Gymboree or like venue, so clearly it's a tactic of some sort. Can anyone shed any light on it? I find it horrifically offensive.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE?

One Sentence

I had an acupuncture appointment this afternoon, then took my Prius to a farmer's market and bought some locally-grown organic produce.

So if you don't know me otherwise....what do you think of me now?

Hi, I'm a New Mom and I Bought a Bikini

Someone needs to smack me or send me to a 12-step program.

Let's start with the premise I love a good deal. I LOVE a good deal. On anything. It's like a high for me. (Vices could be worse, right?)

So I stumbled across this new site that has designer sales, and some of them are just fantastic, killer deals. I signed up for the email...thinking, okay, we're on a budget at the moment because we're still recuperating from the reno. But they have kids' stuff, accessories...everything. I'll behave and be very selective if I purchase.

So a few days ago, I got a sale alert, and I bought a Syla swimsuit--a two-piece tie bikini. The one on the right. Except like a deep coral color (actually, the color I want to paint my front door). I figure, oddly enough, the tie bikinis usually work on me because you can adjust them, as I am somewhat short-waisted and it doesn't "cut" into any tummy or hip, since you tie it. Two pieces with fasteners never work because they are never tight enough under my chest based on my "size".

It's small. Let me explain...it fits, I chose the right size. It's just a small bathing suit. It didn't look that small on the model.

But then, the model doesn't have my tush. And probably hasn't had two kids.

I suppose it will provide sufficient inspiration for our upcoming vacation in Aruba. I guess I know what I need to work on.

G is SIX Months Old

...and has two teeth! It's all from Mama the paparazzi today.



She has on her Mets dress that Daddy bought for her at Shea. Which comes with "Mets underpants" as my son puts it.



Doing her new favorite trick, the raspberry. Which we think must somehow make those aching gums feel better.



And as always, looking for the best escape route.

Happy half-birthday, little baby girl.

Current State of Mommy

Or Mama, as my son puts it when he is working me for something. "MAmmaaa."

I have Mommy Track'd noted on the sidebar over there as a favorite stop for me. The articles, posts and content in general often brings a trickle of levity when I'm having a "working mom moment".

I stumbled across this comic by Betsy Streeter on Mommy Track'd during the week and absolutely loved it. I have often done the "Mom-on-a-business-phone-call-dance".

----

Took a spill today. I am going to chalk it up to old wood floors, leather-soled shoes, my clumsy nature, and lack of sleep. I scraped both knees and bruised them up (they STILL hurt!) after slipping in the hallway on my way into work. It actually hurt quite a bit. Finally beginning not to smart anymore. But I look like an idiot; no more skirts this week.

Remarkably, I only spilled about a 1/4 of my iced coffee. Go figure. (Open glass, too.)

So I entered the office, told whoever about my incident matter-of-factly, and joked about the fact that O would most likely encourage me to wear some of his glow-in-the-dark Sponge Bob band-aids. (He didn't.) Hit the First Aid kit, and cleaned myself up. Yes, I went out to the hallway and cleaned that up, too. Can't have someone else falling on my account.


This sounds kind of pathetic, but I realized that while I got some top-line sympathy...no one really cared much that it hurt like hell and it was a really shi**y way to start my morning. (Okay, maybe one person, plus the guy who offered me a plastic bag for my ice.) I took care of myself and that was it. I'm not whining about it...just a little sad that I spend all my time at this place, away from my kids, and when it comes right down to it...well, you know what I mean.

I think my expectations are too high most of the time.

That's Wack

Sorry for the lack of posts, we've been having a crazy week or two. And the Olympics are on! (I know...that's really no excuse. But the lack of sleep is taking a toll.)

A classic tonight from Oscar:

He's taking a bath tonight; I am "helping". Being a mom, you always need to make sure they clean behind the ears, and in them. Jeez, that sounds cliche.

So I'm washing his ears and he said, "I have a wack in that one."

"A what?"

"A wack."

"Wax?"

"Yeah, a wack."

So I guess he had just one.
We took care of it.

Evolution of the Olympic Personality

Well, who doesn't like to watch the Olympics?
I love watching the swimming, diving, gymnastics, and track and field in the summer games. It's addictive. We've been staying up way too late.

While it's subtle, you can see a bit of a difference as each Olympics passes. The US is famous for its hero worship and elevation of all sorts of folks--deserved or not--to a pedestal. The gamut obviously ranges from Paris Hilton to Al Gore to Natalie Portman to Pete Wentz to...professional wrestlers. Normally, most of it makes me a little sick to my stomach.

When the Olympics come around, the worship goes to the athletes, which is mostly a good thing. You have the great stories of courage, like Kerry Strug; the "rebels" like Elvis Stoyko or Surya Bonali, the uber-athletes like Mark Spitz. This year it's Michael Phelps.

Boy, is it fun to watch that kid swim. (Hello, age. Kid?) He's remarkable. And when they interview him, for the most part, he still seems grounded, though very confident. Likable.

Now, here's the weird part--and unfortunately I can't find this graphic to share--NBC has actually created a Michael Phelps "countdown bug". In case you don't know, a "bug" in broadcast is the little graphic they put in the lower right hand corner of your screen, usually to brand something or to tell you what's coming up.

"Michael Phelps: 5 minutes"

What? I feel like it's the Olympics on E! for crying out loud. Let me just hear it from the announcer. What if he's not the only reason I'm watching? Hasn't this taken our hero worship to a level that contradicts the principle of the Olympics a bit?

(Not that I'm not going to miss one medal race for men's swimming...)

(photo courtesy AP/David J. Phillip)

Dinner Surprise II

Just to recap for anyone who hasn't seen this before..."Dinner Surprise" is whatever the heck I come up with based on the ingredients in my fridge. We rarely plan a whole meal when we shop and it's decided when we walk in the kitchen every night. Usually, it's just a series of proteins and vegetables we come home with.

Had some good-looking swordfish as a start, tonight. I figured I could pair it with Stew's potato salad.

I made a mango salsa to go with the swordfish. It was great.
1/2 avocado
1/2 mango
1/2 tomato (cored)
chives
good slice of red onion

Chop it all up and put in a bowl. Add fresh lime juice and some salt. Stir and refrigerate. Mmm.


Vegetable. Needed a vegetable. Yellow and green squash in the fridge. Cut one of each up in long slices. Buttered a small casserole dish.

Melted some butter (2 tbsp?). Took it off the heat. Stirred in sour cream, about 3 tbsp, about 2 tbsp of grated pecorino romano, and a couple good shakes of seasoned breadcrumbs. Made it a little thinner with some milk. Threw the squash in the pot, stirred it all up, put it in the casserole. Baked it at 350 for, oh, I don't know. Until it was done.

(Of course I forgot to take a picture until we had eaten most of it. But you get the idea.)

We bagged the potato salad. Totally unnecessary.

What did you have for dinner?

Weekend Photos

Honestly, we're not really fancy folk. But you wouldn't know it...


My father-in-law got a new car. My husband was taking them out for a spin. Check out the movie star in the back.


Yes, the baby is wearing gold sandals. I know. It's beyond.

Domestic Combat

I am not a good creature-killer. By creature, I mean some sort of thing that has interrupted your domicile with its presence. A bug or the like. Usually I have C take care of it, if he's home.

Last night, with C still away on business, I had to take action on my own. A large moth flew upstairs into my bedroom.

It should be noted I have lost good cashmere to moths. They are evil, and must be destroyed once they enter my home.

The moth lands on one of our bedroom skylights, on the screen. I pick up a sock (C's, of course) and roll it into a ball. I aim...and throw.

Direct hit! The moth swoops down, practically hits me in the head - so much I have to duck, and dives toward the floor near my doorway.

I pick up a flip-flop and chuck it at the intruder, crushing it.

Me, 1...moth, 0.

I'm not sure why I'm posting about this; most likely because I'll venture a guess that everyone else out there has had some sort of twisted pride in a victory like this at one time or another.

Have you?

Oh, I just don't have time for this nonsense.

No, not blogging, silly.

I got some sort of virus--the less-than-24 hour variety--this morning. I'll leave the details as that I spent much too much time in the loo. Feeling better now.

Admittedly, I was slightly panicked because my C is away on business for a few days. Oh jeez, what if I drop J at the train (my nanny) at the end of the day and I'm sick? Like, really sick? O needs a lot of attention and G, well she's just a baby. And if they get sick I'll feel awful that I gave it to them.

Am I that inept, you wonder? What, of course I can handle my kids on my own. But I haven't had to do it sick yet. Thank goodness it was a quick one. Saved...thank you, fate.

I write this as I wait for G to wake up from her "last nap" for a night bottle, then I can go to bed.

Leaving you with a funny today that a good friend sent to me...hits the nail on the head. I didn't author it, as I do not have an official naturally-born "sister".

MY LIVING WILL

Last night my sister and I were sitting in the den and I said to her, "I never want to live in a vegetative state, dependent on some machine and fluids from a bottle to keep me alive. That would be no quality of life at all. If that ever happens, just pull the plug."

So she got up, unplugged the computer, and threw out my wine.

She's such a bitch.

Hee hee. Have a good night everyone.

G: Peas

Wow. This was fun tonight.

Tired. But I want to post, something.

Therefore, an easy picture montage.

G's first "swim" at our friends' (gorgeous) pool 2 weekends ago.


O's last day of camp (already!)...dancing while waiting for the bus in the morning.


I can't decide whether O was puffing up his cheeks to look like G, or whether they actually do have similar profiles.

Some days I just stare at the pictures. They are too much.

The People in Your Neighborhood

Hopefully I have just corrupted the rest of your brains into singing "....the people in your neighborhood, in your neighborhood, in your neigh-bor-hoo-ood...the people that you meet each day." From Sesame Street. Oh, come on. You know it.

We had a concert in the park tonight. What a beautiful evening. I made a variation on this salad tonight. Good summer fare.

Saw all sorts of locals, which is so fun. We are lucky to live in a nice little village with lots of nice folks.

I finally got to meet my "virtual" neighbor! So lovely in person. What a treat.

My son was off the hook tonight. Running, running, running. One of our neighbors, who lives up the street (and around the corner) has a lovely daughter who is, I think, about 5 years older than my son. He was literally stalking her at the playground during the concert tonight...calling her name, running after her, inserting himself when she was hanging out with friends. No shame at all. How good is it to be four? (I should add she was a dear, being highly tolerant of all his craziness.)

We're going to have an older-woman problem when he's older. I know it.