It’s Tuesday, so that means I’m over at Off Our Chests. Today’s topic: focusing on the little things, and how that helps me find my happy.
(I wrote it completely convinced that what I do is regular and ordinary, but then by the time I was done I began to wonder if I’m a freak and you’ll all think I’m weird. As if you didn’t already.)
Three days in New York City hardly seems like enough time to get into trouble, but I sure tried, because we all know that I leave the house so rarely, traveling to an actual city is a major pilgrimage for me. It requires THOUGHT and PREPARATION and MASCARA. All of these things are slightly foreign to me, but I soldier along as best I can.
So! When we last left off, my journey TO the city had been blessedly uneventful. My first meal there was delicious, and I skipped out on a late night of karaoke to attend to my beauty sleep. [Sidebar: I can't hang this on my 40th birthday, but maybe around 38 or 39 it seemed like I suddenly had An Eye Issue, by which I mean I often wake up with dark bags underneath them which could easily accommodate a week's worth of groceries, and which laugh at the various ever-increasingly-expensive Bags-Be-Gone gels and treatments I stupidly keep buying. I really don't believe in plastic surgery but I'm beginning to understand the allure. I would like to have a bagectomy, please, but only if it doesn't leave me looking perpetually surprised instead of just exhausted.]
I was off to a very responsible start. Of course that wasn’t terribly long-lived. (more…)
Yesterday I left my humble abode and pointed my car Atlanta-ward, on the first step of my journey to New York City. I felt confident—nay, positively smug—that my trip would bring me enough material for a blog post or three, because something wacky always happens when I travel. I would just wait for the magic to unfold.
Maybe there’d be a giant accident on the highway. Possibly I’d get stuck in Security or have to argue with the TSA about my hair products. Maybe my flight would be canceled! Alas, none of these things happened. I had an uneventful drive to the airport, parking was easy and the shuttle was waiting for me, I somehow got whisked into the “priority” security line (which took a record five minutes, tops), and my flight was on time.
So then I thought, “Man. What the heck am I going to blog about NOW?” (more…)
Two items of mixed note for you this dreary, rainy Tuesday:
1) I got an email from the nice people at SHAPE magazine, letting me know that Woulda Coulda Shoulda was nominated in their first ever blog awards as one of the blogs that keep them happy and sane, and I should spread the word! And ask for votes! I’m losing in their poll (oh noes!) and I’m trying to care but failing. I mean, sure, um, yay? But this is some sort of healthy living thing, so I feel certain the nomination was a mistake in the first place. Also, I don’t do the beg for votes thing. I’m just letting you know. Now let’s all giggle and move on.
2) Today is National Coming Out Today, so I’m over at Off Our Chests admitting that I wasn’t always exactly the picture of sensitivity when it comes to this issue, possibly because I spent most of my teens as a real jerk.
Every week I look forward to the weekend with ever-increasing fervor as the days march on. Because the week is so chaotic! And I’m so tired! And I cannot wait to sleep in and lie around the house and do nothing!
AHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
You would think that after all these years of having even MORE stuff to do on the weekends, it would eventually occur to me that it’s a fallacy. Weekends are a change of scene, sure, but half the time I don’t get to sleep in, and even when I do, there’s still kids to shuffle around and projects around the house and all sorts of other things that Need Doing. And it’s not all that restful. SURPRISE!
That doesn’t necessarily mean it can’t be entertaining, though. (more…)
1) Chickadee is still doing well on her new, dye-free medication. Today was the first blood test and the tech was so good, she didn’t even feel the needle. (Okay, technically that’s two things. Deal with it.)
2) Today I sent out a panicked I DON’T KNOW IF I CAN HANDLE THIS AUCTION SINGLEHANDEDLY email to the head of our PTA (translation: Please help!) and the next four businesses I approached for donations all happily ponied up. I keep reminding myself that it’s for the children. GIMME ALL YOUR GIFT CERTIFICATES, IMMA GO SELL THEM FOR PENCILS.
3) Monkey had a great day at school today and was invited to sleep over at Lemur’s tomorrow night. The boys don’t see each other nearly as much as they used to now that they’re at different schools, so YAY!
4) Every time I go to a conference there’s always a last-minute I NEED ITEM X wardrobe crisis (why is that?) and this time I managed to run out of time to shop online for a suitable pair of shoes. So I had to go to an actual STORE at the MALL and it was dreadful. Except for the part where I found some killer shoes, on sale, at the first store I went to. I am now ready to travel next week. Maybe. Did I mention they’re, um, about 5″ tall? Stay tuned for broken ankle stories.
5) The pool is closed, and no one fell in or even swore a lot while we put the cover on this year. Otto said to me, “We’re getting good at this.” I agreed, and mentioned that I sure like hanging around with him, so he went on to say, “We should get married or something. So we can hang out more often.” He is smart.
We don’t see Chickadee very much, lately. Between band and other activities—not to mention her strong desire to get as far away from her embarrassing parents as possible—I feel like I’m lucky to get five minutes with her in a day.
The bad news is that I kind of miss her, and I despair of her room ever actually getting cleaned up.
The good news is that it’s a lot harder to get into an argument when we barely see each other, plus she seems happier to be around us for these short bursts, too. I’m sure that has nothing to do with the fact that I’m usually either feeding her or doing her laundry, or Otto is driving her somewhere or giving her money. Ahem.
The best part, though, is the random little declarations and interactions we’re treated to these days. Just the same way that babies are cute so that their mothers won’t EAT THEM when they won’t stop crying, teenagers are entertaining so that their parents won’t boot them out and change the locks when they’re being all… teenagery. (more…)
It’s Tuesday, so that means I’m over at Off Our Chests today. And—fair warning—today’s post isn’t for those of delicate constitution where saying the names of body parts is somehow alarming.
I don’t spend a lot of time discussing vaginas… I mean, no more than the average person (what, exactly, would be an “average” amount of time discussing vaginas…?), but today I am all about the lady flower. And I’m not holding back.
Go check it out if you can stand some frank discussion. Because it’s become quite clear you’re not going to get it from today’s product marketing campaigns (quelle surprise).
So, um, I never quite know what to say after a post where I’ve worry-vomited all over the keyboard and the majority of you are so sweet and kind about it, holding back my hair and assuring me that it’s okay. I want to follow it up with OH HEY FALSE ALARM, IT’S ALL GOOD! but that isn’t really how it goes.
On Saturday morning, Otto left at the crack of dawn for a work thing, I packed the children off with their dad for the weekend, and then I spent the entire day being responsible to no one and not talking about anything. Not solving any problems! Not discussing my feelings! Just being silent. Blessedly silent. And possibly shopping for shoes and watching bad television.
So Saturday was kind of a break from being “on” and it was just what I needed. Eventually the dog and I crawled into bed and when we woke up on Sunday morning, Otto was back! Hooray! (more…)
Yesterday everyone got home late and we had take-out for dinner and I was scrambling to put out everything we needed, and I opened the silverware drawer and stopped short. For some reason, the last time Otto unloaded the dishwasher, he decided that our silverware organizer was arranged incorrectly. For four and a half years it has been (left to right) knives, forks, big spoons, little spoons; what I looked in on as I was exhorting Monkey to pour milk and Chickadee to get out the napkins was big spoons, forks, little spoons, knives.
This halted the entire operation. “What did you DO?” I asked Otto, totally baffled by the drawer. He mumbled something about how he thought the new arrangement might make it easier to set the table (he and Chickie both often reverse the knives and forks). “But you can’t… just… do THAT!” I sputtered. “You can’t just CHANGE it without any WARNING! That’s not how it GOES!” By now both kids had come to marvel at the rearranged drawer, and Chickadee looked at it, then at me, and set to putting the drawer back to the way it had been. Monkey just looked horrified. I grabbed my son. “DO YOU SEE this little OCD acorn right here?” I demanded of Otto. “He didn’t fall far from THIS TREE”—indicating myself—”and that means you can’t just REARRANGE EVERYTHING I KNOW TO BE TRUE ABOUT SILVERWARE without TELLING ME.” (more…)
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