Ick

Nothing says Merry Christmas more than taking goodies to the elderly couple next door and realizing you've got a candy cane stuck to your ass after the fact.

True story.

Bah Humbugger

What I’ve done already today because I’m insane:

-Started packing for a trip tomorrow
-4 loads of laundry
-Painted a huge spot repaired two years ago in the breakfast nook
-Hung 3 new framed pics, one of the Hubs xmas gifts
-Vacuumed living room
-Showered and finally shaved leg forest
-Baked a loaf of bread
-Loaded the dishwasher and ran

Left to do:
-Prep food for tonight
-Bathe and flea dog
-Bathe W
-Figure out what to wear tonight and tomorrow
-Finish packing
-Oil change car

You know what I’d like to be doing? Nothing. No wait, I’d rather be hanging with friends, drinking holiday cocktails, stuffing myself stupid with foodstuffs, kissing under the mistletoe, playing board games or charades, etc. Sigh.

W is so stoked about Santa coming tonight and we’ve used the bearded fable as a way to discipline him by saying he doesn’t want to be on Santa’s bad boys and girls list, get coal in his stocking (“What’s coal, mommy?), etc. After the holiday passes I’m wondering how I’m going to get the great results I’ve been getting for the last few months? I don’t think the threat of a baby new year, a cupid or the Easter bunny will have any affect on him. Guess I’ll go back to the flyswatter.

Happy holidays y’all.

Sloth and Gluttony

I sit in the kitchen surfing the net and reading the New York Times online while the Hubs hovers in the soft glow of his laptop at the dining room table. W is on the couch watching Monster Jam clips on my iPhone. We are disgustingly high tech and fully engaged here. Jazz music plays in the background and heated dry air billows from the vents as it has once again gotten cold outside. We don’t have many plans today which is as a Sunday should be. Tuscan kale soup is on the lunch menu and tuna will be on our dinner plates later. All is well.

DO YOU EVER…

-Dress in the morning and think to yourself, “I’m looking really good…rowr,” only to pass by the full length mirror later in the day and think, “Ugh, I look like hell! What was I thinking?”

-Consider pinning a note to your child that says, “Merry Christmas, I’m yours!” and sending him/her to the elderly couple living next door?

-Think back to the time when you were pissed that you could stick one pencil between your butt cheek and your thigh and it stayed but now you can stick a whole package back there and it stays?

-Wish that all of your bras didn’t need to be padded?

-Hope that Benicio del Toro will call you on the phone because he “needed to hear your voice?”

-Think you sing really, really well…in the shower?

-Pretend you are talking on your cell phone or turn to talk to your child in the back seat while the homeless guy tries to wash your windshield?

-Hide somewhere in the house and jump out and scare the beejeebus out of a family member?

-Pop open the perfume inserts in magazines and lay them about while flying on an airplane and sitting next to someone with body odor?

-Wave to the security camera in stores or at the ATM?

-Answer a question with a question and keep doing it?

Yeah, me neither.

Holi-Daze

Thanks to the unwavering desire of my son we start each and every day watching Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer. It used to be my all time favorite holiday show and now, well, let’s just say I’d love to have that little effer’ on my dinner table come Christmas eve, red nose and all. W’s seen it so many times now I can leave the sound almost all the way down. He’s pretty much memorized all of the dialogue. When the show came on several weeks back I looked forward to watching it with him and the moment when the not so scary abominable snow monster roared his menacing roar and poked his head out from behind the cardboard icebergs, scaring the beejeebus out of W. Now he just yells at him and tells him he’s not so scary without teeth. He sings the theme song, adlibbing all the way through while including decorations on our tree…”you could even say it glows like the star and the red car and the purple ball and the snow man…” Too much of what was once a good thing is now as bad as fruit cake. I guess I could erase the program from the DVR listings but I really don’t want to start my day by thinking of what cocktail goes best with French toast.

Back in November I bought several boxes of gingerbread houses to give to the ankle biters in the family to take home and put together. W and I talked at length about how we would decorate our first edible dwelling. We ooohed and ahhhed over the image of the one on the box and marveled at the detailing. There was even a video we could watch online to aid us in our construction. Much to my chagrin after much waiting and dreaming I opened the box to find that both of the roof pieces were broken. We were gung ho about the operation so we both agreed we’d forge ahead and mend our roof with the more than adequate amount of icing included. W watched me put up the walls of the sugary structure but that was about the extent of his participation. All he really wanted was to eat the smaller pieces laying about. I let him eat the snowman and soon after he was sitting on the couch watching a show as I hammered away at this fading holiday moment. He showed just about as much interested while (not) helping me decorate the tree a few weeks back. He sat his tiny butt on the sofa and periodically remarked, “Hey mommy, that’s beautiful!” or “Hey mommy, that’s so pretty!” Totally hands off, totally like his dad. So the gingerbread house was a bust as you can see.
















We’ve really gotten in to hibernation mode in the purple house. Ever since the first cold snap several weeks back it’s been hard to stay out from under many various blankets thrown here and there. When the sun goes down we all eyeball the stairs in anticipation of racing up them to the snuggly nest above. We don’t encourage W to sleep with us but his tiny furnace of a body is welcomed these chilly nights. Thank goodness we don’t have a fireplace or we’d me MIA all winter’s long.

Table For One

Do you know what “bliss” is these days (I’m referring to the days that currently label me as stay-at-home mom and assistant to a very busy/disorganized husband)? “Bliss” is going to the Dollar General store ALONE and having a long lunch at your friendly neighborhood Mexican restaurant ALONE. By the way, the money saving tip of the day is to visit your neighborhood Dollar General store for many of the things you pay full price for at your regular full price paying haunts. They’ve got tons of cheap stuff, some pretty neat stocking stuffers for the kiddos and there’s usually never anyone in the place. Never mind the surly checkout girl in the blinding yellow vest or the poor homeless fella who you wished was hanging out by the air fresheners and not the trash bag isle where the low priced Hefty Cinch Sacks are that you need. I got in the habit of frequenting the Dollar General in Marfa where the tunes were great and the staff was super-friendly. Besides there wasn’t another option in town for brooms, Matchbox Cars and curtains.

The restaurant I go to has two televisions programmed to the same station. I like this because they are in Spanish and I try to keep up but mostly I marvel at the skimpy outfits these incredibly attractive Latinas are wearing as they host their talk shows. Their teeth are as white as marshmallows and their grins, huge. That’s almost as distracting as their figures and fashion choice of the day. I look past them at the other people on the set, usually some sort of fly girls in equally skimpy clothing and one or two additional male hosts, and everyone acts like this sexiness is totally normal, that a bare midriff and tatas up to there with those lipsticked porno mouths is normal and I think that’s SO rad. And if I was that hot, I’d totally dress like that, too.

There’s a feeling that almost overwhelms me when I dine alone in the middle of the day. With my book in my hand and my Diet Coke just arms length away, I am just me. I’m not disciplining anyone, not tending to anybody’s needs, not sharing a morsel and it kinda rocks. I don’t even have to look around the room. I’m in my little bubble of lunchtime glee. I switch between reading my book and deciphering what the Latina sex goddess on TV is saying about children in need or something. And that is all. When the waitress comes over to ask if I need anything else I almost say, “A hug.”

I think I need to get out more.

Good Things

W, after being run over by his Bigfoot monster truck, still tends to the needs of his tiny purple ponies and Jelly Cat. Awwwww...

Last night’s dinner and the night before: Wednesday we slurped wintry vegetable soup that the Hubs liked about at much as wearing underwear. I thought it was good but without the toasted crostini topped with goat cheese and chives afloat in the bowl it would’ve been a little too boring. Last night the Hubs pan seared some Hawaiian Orange Nairagi fillets, nuked a couple sweet yellow potatoes and we finished the meal with a beet, goat cheese and spinach salad. Very simple, very good. Tonight we’re warming our innards on rigatoni swimming in hot sausage and fennel. Add to that some crusty bread, a juicy red wine and we’ll be ready for a long winter’s nap.

Today’s money saving tip: Actually I have two…one is to unplug all appliances, etc. that you aren’t actively using to reduce your electric bill. Of course the Hubs forgets about this one and is often waiting for lengthy spells for the water to boil in the electric kettle.












The other tip is to give homemade holiday gifts this year. Yesterday my aunt who lives in nearby Oatmeal demystified the art of canning for me. We made a myriad of jams and a jelly which will be part of my gift giving collection. I am finding an irresistible urge to make goodies from the home and heart this year. Probably the only good thing coming out of this recession for me.

Random thoughts: I wondered the other night while putting a Spongebob Squarepants band-aid on my thumb after slicing it open with a serrated bread knife why, before I had my son, didn’t I ever stock my bathroom shelves with whimsical band-aids? They actually make me feel a little bit better than putting on one of the nondescript flesh toned stickies.

I’ve always wanted the smell of my laundry to be the envy of friends and family but thus far to no avail. Downey without a doubt reminds me of my Granny so I can’t use that one. I like being periodically reminded of her when I stand downwind of someone’s softened threads. I remember hearing on NPR about a recently completed documentary on wives of deceased soldiers who anxiously awaited their husband’s garments from the front lines so they could bury their noses in the essence of their flesh only to find everything had been previously washed and smelled like Tide. How heartbreaking.

W just peed on my jeans because I forgot to place his front-end business in the proper place while he pooped. Nice.

Happy Friday everyone!

iLove

Before I went to Marfa I purchased an iPhone. I needed the reliable AT&T service down in the bowels of Texas. I don’t think the Sprint folks even know that part of Texas exists because I could never get service via them with my old phone. I also needed a way to be able to keep in contact with everyone involved with the project out there while roaming the 8+ acres and neighboring towns. One of the best features of the phone is the YouTube icon which is W’s favorite. He easily figured out how to manipulate each screen to get to the YouTube option and can now waste many hours watching video after video of monster jam action. This comes in handy when meals at restaurants get too long or I have a lengthy grocery store list to fulfill. The down side is that all of the videos he likes come with really bad clips of music that have now lodged in W’s large noggin’ and he sings them all in succession many times a day. They are George Thorogood’s “Bad To The Bone”, Baha Men’s “Who Let The Dogs Out”, AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” and some horrible teen angst tune about not wanting to live. It’s bad enough that W’s vocabulary is laced with monster truck names like Grave Digger, El Toro Loco, Monster Mutt, Predator, and Backdraft (among many others) but then you toss in those little scores sung aloud by a three-year-old and I am often just inches away from that “drinking in the closet thing” I’ve written about before. In W’s room there is no less than 20-25 monster trucks and lately he’s been asking for Santa to bring him a Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer monster truck. Santa better get on that one pronto.

I never owned an iPod prior to the one on the iPhone and it has just about changed my life. Wherever we are I can dial in W’s sleepy time music to ease him into dreamland. When we go walking I can stick it in my pocket or in the stroller and we’ve got theme music to move to. Of course there’s the ever-popular spontaneous dance party and when the iPod is on shuffle and kicks out a series of the most appropriate tunes I call it the “iPod del Fuego!” Grrrr! It comes in handy on long drives and I have found that I can stick those little white ear buds in my ears and successfully tune out the tot for about 100 miles at a time. Yeay!

Let’s not forget emailing, instant messaging, iMeditate, Spanish Word of the Day, Bright and Beyond Preschool Playtime Activities, iMoods, and that every popular camera feature. This is something else W has mastered on the iPhone. He has quite the eye for a knee high budding photographer and has captured some great images. Take a look here and in the top right corner of the blog. Cool, no?

Leftovers

Last night's dinner: leftovers from Friday night which was Eggplant and Spinach Lasagne Spirals. I’ve been making these since the recipe came out in 2002. It’s very time consuming but well worth the effort and the presentation is unique for lasagne.



Today's money saving tip: shop at your neighborhood Goodwill. I spent about an hour there today combing through the kids clothes. Thank goodness the music they pipe in is decent because the place has the odor of neglect and abuse and makes it hard for me to breathe. I did find some great shirts and long johns for W for about two bones a piece and scored on a Junk Food brand “I’m A Pepper” t-shirt in my size and in great shape that would normally retail for about $20. Let me say that the young girls clothing selection is the best and so are the newborn options because infants wear their stuff for like 7 minutes before they’ve outgrown it so at Goodwill that stuff is in superb shape. Take some time on your lunch break, put on some scented lipgloss to mask the stale air there and dig in. I bet you’ll find something you can’t live without.

So since I’m not working and the Hubs is now home we’re getting to spend much more time together. This is both good and bad. This morning it was nice to drop off the tot at school together and then head to town lake to walk for about an hour with the dog but you would’ve never guessed the Hubs was going to be my athletic partner in crime. He was wearing his super skinny pencil leg jeans with Doc Martins as ankle weights and his rocker looking Ray Bans. I had to beg him to leave his bajillion dollar leather jacket behind because, seriously, I didn’t want to exercise with Johnny Cash. Towards the end of the hike I was certain his hiney was going to flame up from the friction he was complaining about back there. Good times with more to come.

Here are some pics from our days in Marfa...

The Long And Winding Road

It’s time I get back to the self indulgent writing exercise known as blogging. The original intent of profiling my fish bowl existence with W and the Hubs in the beginning was to keep from forgetting all of the good, bad and funny details as they whip by. At W’s ripe old age of 3, I’m finding there’s more fodder than ever before so it’s essential that the documentation continue. I want to have bragging rights when I can’t even remember my own name and have taken up residency at an assisted living compound for rock n roll widows. Question is will I remember the blog URL when I’m 80?

To briefly recap the summer, I reorganized the family unit, abandoned the Hubs and took a job in Marfa, TX, with toddler in tow. 5 months we were gone. It was glorious and challenging and beautiful and strange. I never did get W a nanny (hard to find in a town of 2,000) thus we spent TONS of quality time together. I did get him a lovely Australian Shepherd puppy that he named Ruby Tuesday, after the little cartoon Max & Ruby and the Rolling Stones tune. I needed an additional distraction for W and a new companion for me as well. As the months zoomed by I oversaw the installation of a well, an irrigation system, enough electric to power a small town, a septic system, and demolition of the home on the property. Never did I’d ever dream I’d learn about such things, a complete departure from event planning yet I found many similarities as well. Every day was an event, a chance to learn something new and it got my gerbil on a treadmill of a brain going and growing. W embraced his new surroundings and learned about tarantulas, rattlesnakes, tumbleweeds, yurts, constellations, and all sorts of life-sized construction equipment. He had 8 acres on which to roam and explore. He was never bored. Plus the community in Marfa is a true one in the sense of the word. Everyone rallies and plays together. We constantly cooked out together, ate together, met for drinks often and energized the local grapevine with gossip. In the end though, it was good to finally get off of the proverbial “island” and come home to the Hubs and our lovely home although someday I hope to return and work with those amazing folks again. Our days now are filled with getting re-acclimated, a Tuesday/Thursday school schedule, a Wednesday a.m. art class and playing catch up with the Hubs who left for 3.5 weeks about a week and a half after we returned home from our adventure.

I guess that just about catches us up, doesn’t it? Reach out and ask questions if I’ve missed anything.

Let’s tune in now to real time, where at this very moment W is peddling for his life on this…























A Christmas gift from Gogo and her awesome sig other. It’s called a Smart Cycle and I give it 5 stars. It’s great b/c he can dial it in himself without any parental assistance and he’s getting both physical and mental exercise. Anything that allows him the chance to be independent is cool with me especially since W is still suffering from a serious case of mommy-centricity and loathes being out of my orbit. Completely exhausting.

With time on my hands I have already updated my goals for 2009 list, which I will periodically profile as the New Year approaches and beyond. Writing about the lofty personal expectations will help keep me accountable. In 2008 I proved to myself that if I dream big and put my fears aside I am completely able to navigate through various self-imposed challenges and come out the other end in a much better state than I expected. I mean, that’s all easier said than done, right? I’m ready to do that again times 10 but in a way, I’m starting from scratch with no job at the moment and technically, the Hubs isn’t employed either. His new record doesn’t come out until the spring and who knows what will come of it (but I have high hopes since it TOTALLY RULES!). This a scary place in which to begin.

In the coming blog entries, I will highlight any money saving techniques we’re practicing, kid-friendly craft ideas and what’s on the menu around here. We love to cook and that’s something we’ll always burn our cash on.

So hello to all. It’s good to be back.

Moving Forward (And Happy Earth Day)

Well, we’ve had some nice success getting W to settle in his own bed each night after we read something like 700 books to him. It’s partly my fault since I’m also trying to wean myself from our “snuggling with the Simpson’s” routine. Each book is more time spent with the funny little love bug. He awoke the other morning minutes after 5 a.m. (yeah, I was hatin’ it) talking on and on about flying on airplanes where “they give you cookies and they give you crackers and they give you toys.” Oh, how I wished at that moment he was actually on said plane and not babbling on with the sunrise two long hours away. But I’m acclimating myself as I mentally prepare for many days of very much quality time with him when we move. I mean, I’ll secure a nanny for sure when we get there but ultimately it’s just me and him and sometimes the Hubs when he can make it out. I’m preparing a photo album for him of our house here, friends from school and family members so we can talk about them everyday. I’m putting an Art Box together for him so we can have creative time often. I envision our house off Hwy 67 covered in his genius, which is purely fitting since Marfa is an art mecca. Maybe I’ll host an art opening for W’s new friends there and they can come check out his work while sipping juice boxes, munching on Veggie Booty and listening to Of Montreal sing “I Want To Have Fun”. Yeah, we’re gonna fit right in.

Tomorrow is my last day at the office. Today my officemates surprised me with a plastic bucket filled with sunscreen, bug bite meds, baby wipes, a sewing kit, a map of Texas with the route between here and there highlighted, band aids, a flashlight with a blinking “Find Me” LED and an Us Weekly. Several things I can take off my shopping list now.

Heading out of town on Thursday to go suss out the details of our journey to come. Finally get to see the state of the job site, see the house where we will be living and finally come up with a timeline for all. Let’s get this party started already.

Regrowth

Yesterday the Hubs picked up W from school and I had the chance to do whatever I wanted to do when I got off work (go to Target! shoe shopping! Sephora! read!) but instead I went home and pulled weeds until my fingers cramped. The early evening was cloudy, a bit breezy, perfect weather to hunker down in the beds and dig. But it was more than digging and tugging and cursing the gnarly roots. I was deep in thought, buried in curiosities, fears, excitement and responsibilities of the weeks to come. It was blissful and I look forward to my next adventure providing me the many opportunities to work and think, work and reflect, work and enjoy instead of being twisted up about a five mile traffic jam, a long line at the post office, or a person driving out of turn at my neighborhood 5-way stop. Yeah, that one really gets in my crawl. I will be forced to slow down and really smell the yucca (while keeping an eye out for snakes and loose dogs and scorpions). Really can’t wait.

On the home front we are trying to correct a wrong that we thought was oh so cute and convenient (i.e. we were being lazy) and get our son to sleep at a reasonable hour IN HIS OWN BED. It all happened by default, thanks to Miss Jo who came over last night bearing gifts. After dinner, the conversation spun to W’s sleeping habits and she very matter of factly said you need to put him to bed between 8 and 9 and Hubs why don’t you do it now or something like that. I cringed inside knowing W hadn’t really eaten his dinner but there’s no time like the present, right? Books were read, PJs were donned and protests were heard. The Hubs finally emerged from the bedroom as W whipped himself in a frenzy that lasted half an hour (or what seemed like an eternity for me) before he was quiet, exhausted by his efforts to get someone's attention. Miss Jo hung around until it was over probably knowing full well that I would’ve gone in to his room to rescue him and be the hero. W slept through the night if you consider “waking at 5 a.m. and ready to get the day started” sleeping through the night. But I’m committed to making this work and the Hubs is committed to being the bedtime person and I will pick up the slack when he’s not home. Besides our relationship could use a shot in the arm and having that evening time together is just what Miss Jo ordered.

Hells Yeah

Well folks, you know sometimes dreams do come true.

I’ve blogged about that little speck on the map of Texas called Marfa many times, yearned to be out there and be a part of its great vastness/artiness/solitude. Well…careful what you wish for. I’ve landed a gig “managing” a campground/yurt/Spartan trailer community there this summer, a project that needs a little kick in the Toughskins so it will be up and running soon (of course, “soon” in Marfa is a relative term). The details are still being fleshed out but the plans are coming together. In the meantime, I’ve set the course to become a seasonal employee at my current place of employment (thank you, thank you, thank you) and am gently and thoughtfully unraveling our roots here to take up temporary residence there. It’s a little scary making these changes…taking W out of school for four months, cobbling together a network of toddler-friendly resources for him out there, setting up camp in the middle of nowhere…but it will be an adventure and it’s not like I’m harnessing up the mules to the covered wagon and heading west to look for gold with the fear of starvation and Indian mayhem looming on the horizon. The tot and I have a home to live in while there and the Hubs will be with us when he’s not playing shows (and with two booking agents making those calls there seems to be plenty of shows) but everyone should put this funky, fabulous part of our fair state on their radar for the summer and come see us. It’s pretty awesome there.

Share And Share Alike

This morning W absconded with the squirt bottle I use to wet my hair. He figured out how to get the nozzle to project water and spent about 15 minutes drenching his face, the walls, the bed and his hair. I tried to make him go easy on the soakage but decided there were better battles to fight as his protests could be heard in Abilene. When all was said and done he set the bottle on the bathroom floor and said, “Thank you for sharing, mama.” Oh, the guilt 'cause I really wanted him to just cut it out already.

Ham Bone

I got this shirt for W at Goodwill. Three whole dollars it cost. Love Goodwill for toddler clothes but CANNOT stand the smell of that place. Someone needs to donate some air fresheners to them. Thankfully the red marker from a school art project at the bottom of the top will wash out.





































Sometimes, once in a blue moon, he enjoys his bath. I had to get proof on film (do people still say that?) to show him later.













These are his cousins from KY. I wish you could hear the eldest one's accent. It is the syrupy country drawl of a Southern belle. The little Mia Farrow double is as tough as a bull. When she comes to tag you and yell, "You it!" she leaves a bruise.






































Aunt Angie, Jelly Cat is still W's stuffed animal of choice. Sure hope we don't ever lose him.

Milestones And Regressions

-“No, I don’t want (specific item)…I want, I want (specific item)!” - Oh, how I love my son and oh, how he can drive completely insane. Is it normal for him to be the most conflicted, wishy-washy tike on the planet?

-“You’re the BAD GUY, mommy!” This is what he says to me when he’s mad at me. I’ve been the bad guy a lot lately.

-This morning he was looking for a key to his toy suitcase and he remembered that it was outside on the lawn chair. HE remembered! Pretty freakin’ awesome milestone.

-‘Memba that haircut I mentioned he needed to tame his expanding mullet? Yeah, well that trip went really bad. He screamed and cried the entire time. I’ve since had to work on his noggin’ while he naps.

-We’re back to a battle of wills in the bathtub. I’m sure the neighbors think I’m skinning him alive.

-What was W’s food of choice all day yesterday? Cheerios. All. Friggin’. Day. Oh, and what time did he finally go down for his nap. 6:30 p.m. Yeah, we got this sleeping thing all figured out. Not.

-W surprised us yesterday when he actually hit his giant plastic baseball with his giant plastic bat several times. The Hubs was an impressive pitcher, too. I mean, it takes guts to stand two feet in front of a tot swinging a bat.

Hump Day Catch Up

Monday morning at the office began with a power surge so strong it knocked out our email until just this morning. Several client emails so far have alluded to the fact that I “must be on vacation” and they hope I’m having fun wherever I am! But no, I’ve been sitting here for the past 2 days twiddling me thumbs. Boring. The office did take a field trip yesterday to the Shoe Pavilion. What a collection of ugly shoes, or so I thought.

So here’s a pile of the latest news:

-Went home this past weekend to attend my grandmother’s funeral. Tons of family there and folks I hadn’t seen in ages. Everyone’s either gotten much older or has procreated and both are interesting phenomena to me. The faces of the elderly have changed dramatically but their eyes and the sounds of their voices reveal who they are so clearly. The faces of the children resemble their parents in an almost cartoonish but beautiful way. We all had a good laugh at the little people we have brought in to the family over the years. I had volunteered to do a reading at the service and it turned out to be the lengthiest and verbally challenging. I had a few minutes to read through it but was a bit nervous knowing I’m terribly Bible verse challenged. When cued, I wandered up to the pulpit, bowed as instructed, positioned the mic (which promptly flopped forward and thumped loudly on to the actual Bible) and took a deep breath. I started off smoothly but soon the words began to swim together and I stumbled over the big ones never used in the English language and barely made it through. As soon as I joined the Hubs back at my seat, he leaned over and whispered, “Sobriety test.”

-W got to spend lots of time with his two cousins from Kentucky. The girls flank him in age on either side and so they made for a mighty team. Meanwhile the rest of us played Wii ‘til our arms hurt. What happen to working on a puzzle as a family activity? Lo impact, less cursing in front of the children.

-On Monday evening I relinquished my beloved Xterra to CarMax. It was a bittersweet separation but completely necessary knowing that the mileage was high, that it needed some pricy repairs and that I had a car payment due on Saturday. W and I hung out there for nearly four long hours. Thank goodness they are cool with tots running amok and keep in mind, too, that every time I test drove a car, I had to reinstall the carseat. Nice. The Volvo wagon I had my heart set on turned out to be junky and worn out cosmetically. The newer Xterras seemed so cheaply manufactured compared to my solid ’01. I was still totally in love with a gas guzzling SUV (I know, it’s so wrong) and ended up driving a Pathfinder off the lot. It’s like an Xterra with chest hair…leather, deep tinted windows, all power, 4WD, Bose system, etc. Crappy gas mileage so I guess I’ll forgo all overpriced franchised coffee stops and buy some carbon credits instead. Totally serious about that.

-The Hubs is in the studio again all week so W and I are an exclusive duo. Tonight we’ll be heading to the rock n’roll chop shop to get W’s ‘do done. He looks like a Monkee band member reject. Pics to come.

Spring Dun Sprung

Days at the office are very sloooooow now that the conference has left the building. We collectively fill the hours with tons of web surfing. Don’t know how many times I click on the craigslist.org “pets” link to see all of those unwanted animals…dogs, cats, geckos, horses, potbelly pigs…needing homes. I imagine adopting all of them and then I imagine divorce papers promptly arriving. I seek out toddler beds, patio umbrellas, black sling back flats and catch up on the news in Marfa. Oh, Marfa is my boyfriend. Soon we will be together (more on that another time).

Lately the Hubs has been locked away in his studio poking at the corners of his mind for song lyrics. The band will be recording again soon, an effort to wrap up the newest record, and he needs material. In the meantime, W and I bide our time bonding over Matchbox cars and books. Lots of books. It’s pretty awesome when he knows the words of a story and blurts them out along with me like he can read already. At night when he yells, “Nuggle time, mama. Wets go uptairs,” we huddle under the covers like giddy campers under the stars. He plays with his cars (“Okay! Nice to see you. Have a good weekend!”) while I sink deep in the pages of a book. Over the weekend, I finished Running With Scissors…totally too weird for me…and right now I’m reading a book I probably shouldn’t be…Deep End Of The Ocean by Jacquelyn Mitchard. It’s really good but about a 3-year-old boy who is kidnapped. I find it pleasing on a certain level to be able to relate to the mother character now that I have a son. The book is much more compelling this way. Next on the bedside table reading list is The Wonder Spot by Melissa Banks. I enjoyed her first book so I hope this one is on the same level.

Don’t want to forget to give some mad props to Mother Nature who has very recently decided to turn our formerly shades of grey city into a Technicolor playground. Spring is definitely in the air and it sure looks purdy.

This Is How We Parent

This morning W ate three bowls of peanut butter cereal. Yeah, I feed my 2.5 year-old all the Jiff flavored kernels he can stuff in his belly…but it’s the organic kind with panda bears on the box and the proceeds go to protect the furry creatures and the box is made of recycled paper and there are no harmful ingredients in the balls of peanut buttery goodness…so it’s totally okay, right?

The Hubs and I raise our tot with boundaries while letting him have the freedom to be himself, however painful that can sometimes be. We both are (sorta) cool with the fact he’s a night owl and rather than force him in to bed at an early hour, a task that proves hard and exhausting for everyone, we let him stay up to watch the Simpsons with us. Yep, that’s 10 p.m., folks, and quality programming, no? The theme song comes on and he sprints to the bed like a frat boy to the bar at last call. He laughs along with us at the jokes he can’t understand and then asks, “Whas happening, momma?” I can’t remember what I watched when I was 2.5 so I don’t think this will scar him in any way.

We’ve found ourselves with the issue of a tot who wakes in the middle of the night and is in the habit of climbing in to bed with us, which usually ends with the Hubs finishing his dreams in the downstairs bedroom. Bad. Bad. W wakes and sleepily asks for his monster truck and where his daddy is and then points with authority in the direction of the stairs, his eyes still closed. I was able to get him back to sleep in his own bed last night but he still somehow ended up in our bed. I don’t recall bringing him up but I’m sure I’m the guilty party.

W had an “accident” in the bath last night. As the two turd logs drifted to the bottom of the tub, he screamed, big tears filled his eyes and he scrambled up the walls of slippery porcelain like piranha were chewing off his toes. He was totally embarrassed and freaked. I felt bad for him and explained that everything was okay but he needed to tell me when he had to poop (oh how I loathe poop talk). We’re not at the potty training stage yet but it’s looming on the horizon of his upcoming summer. Joy. His school is initiating it so I guess we gotta hold up our end of the booty bargain. It will be nice to have him out of those expensive landfill cloggers but they’re sooooo convenient. Oh well.

It’s great to be back at home and handling the challenges of a growing child. It’s not unlike event planning actually. You can plan and prepare in advance all you want, hammer on details and get certain items in order but you never know what the client is really going to want until you’re actually together onsite. Such is the same with a toddler.

Pushing The Reset Button

As the working like a dog fog of the past two weeks fades into the distance I am able to start thinking about all the “free” time I now have and how it will be consumed. I am a junkie freak for activity, the fighter of inertia and must keep up some sort of velocity. I'm a sicko.

The weeds in the flowerbeds taunt me as I walk by each morning with their little leaves waving in the breeze but soon I will be armed with long, silver tools to yank them out of the earth with more satisfaction than is considered normal. The shocking orange paint in the kitchen will be changed to something more digestible. Curtains will be made and furniture replaced. My truck, the one that went in for an oil change this morning and was diagnosed with pricy leaks here and there, will be traded in. CarMax here I come. There are yoga classes I have yet to attend. Oh, how I need them. And trips to Marfa to be made. So I look at the calendar and fill in the days with to dos and classes and trips and tasks. I really don’t know what it means to do nothing, to just sit and relax but I guess I could pencil that in on the calendar as well.

More pics of W in all his growing, growth spurt glory. He's already rockin' an awesome tan.

La Vie en Chaos

Why did I ever stop blogging? How am I going to remember all of the details of W's last three months? Remember all of the ugly and beautiful minutiae of life leading up to now? I felt uninspired after Christmas, overwhelmed by my job, bored by the monotony of the week’s routine. But wonderful things happened and sad things happened and the hardest part of my job happened and here we are now.

The holidays. I have to look at my calendar to remember. Family came together for the celebration in my hometown. My granny surprised me with a visit from West Virginia, my father surprised me as well and I got to spend some time with my grandmother in her majestic home not knowing it would be the last time I’d see her.

New Years. The Hubs played a gig in Arkansas, outside, in 20-degree weather. I, very smartly, chose to stay home and watched the fireworks at midnight from my bedroom window.

January. Worked hard and prepared for the events that happened in March.

February. New York for Fashion Week with my sister-in-law. Backstage at the Diane Von Furstenberg show, front row for the Angel Sanchez show, gazed dreamily at the jaw-dropping collection designed by, crap, I can’t remember his name, and stood across from Tyra Banks and Nigel Barker (who is stunning in person, ladies, edible) at the Jill Stuart show. The month ended with hour-long conference calls and a workload from hell. And there was also a totally fun Oscar party, a Pillow Fight Club match at the Beauty Bar and Friday evenings at Salvation Pizza with the foxy collective of parents and tots from W’s school.

March. 98 parties in 9 days, high profile clients, low profile me, keeping my nose to the grindstone and my poor crippled feet under the faucet in the tub. Hotel living is for the birds, especially when you have to do it in the city you live in but it’s a necessary evil. Life gets in the way of work during this time. My deepest regards to all the family and friends that helped me, the Hubs, and W get through it all.

My dear grandmother passed away last Thursday morning. It was good I was the first warm body to the convention center office so I could grieve alone. She was an amazing, caring woman with a heart of gold. My fondest childhood memories are of her and the home she opened up to us and the neighborhood rugrats we brought to her door. Her last words were, “Where in the hell’s that orange juice?” Grandmother, you are truly missed.

So this weekend I am off with the fam to the beach. I need some serious RnR but I promise to keep blogging, to keep up with the details of W’s milestones and happenings in our little world because lord knows I can’t remember it all. Afterall, this is for him.