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.