One of those mornings…..


I rolled out of bed this morning cursing the infant teething process and wishing that we could have another time change so I could gain another hour of sleep.  After I stretched and got my bearings, I went to wake Amelia up for school.  It’s becoming increasingly difficult to wake her up in the morning, so when I walked into her room, I was on a mission.  I stepped up onto the bottom rung of the ladder to her loft bed and started saying her name.  I shook her shoulder and was thinking about finding a song on my phone to play her when she popped up into a sitting position.

Amelia: “What??”

Me: (slightly annoyed) “You need to get up”

Amelia: (looking at me) “Why?”

Me: “You need to get ready for school”

Amelia: “No I don’t”

**It’s at this point that I remember that today is election day… and there’s no school on election day.**

Me: “…oh shit”  (stepping down from the ladder and walking toward her door) “see you in half an hour”

Amelia:   “Well, I’m awake NOW.”

And then my 6 year old daughter spent the next 30 minutes sitting in my bed watching TV and periodically looking over at me trying to sleep and chuckling.

I also managed to spill my coffee on a jumbo pack of toilet paper left in the middle of the kitchen and get a monster paper cut while reaching into my purse for my sunglasses.

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My Hero (a story featuring kids in mustaches)

The craziest thing happened to me last night….

I was on way home, walking through the forest, when I heard the leaves rustle from above. Just then,  woodland nymph appeared before me.

She looked friendly enough. Sure, she had a villain’s mustache, but she was smiling and singing and she had a heart on her shirt. What villain wears a heart T-shirt?The nymph looked like she wanted to show me something, so I took a step toward her.

“What is it? What do you want to show me?”

She smiled, turned and flitted away. I followed. After a short while, the nymph came to a clearing. She looked around, smiled and stopped.

“What’s here? Did you want to show me something here?”

She turned and locked eyes with me. Just then, I felt a tug on my sleeve. I looked down to see the funniest little elf.

He had a villain’s mustache too….but his eyes were so big that I decided that he MUST be kind and honorable.

“Oh, who are you little buddy? Do you want to play?”

The elf’s eyes sparkled as he stared at me. Then I heard the nymph giggle. I turned to look at her, and as I did, the elf snatched my bag and ran away.

“Oh no! You’re not a nice elf at all!”

I chased the elf deeper into the forest. I was about to catch up to him when the elf turned and threw my bag off the trail. I crouched to collect my belongings, but as I did, I felt a sharp crack to the back of my head. I felt my body being pulled across the ground….for being so small, these folks were strong. It was then that I realized what was happening.

They were taking me to their leader.

I’d heard the horror stories. “Little Z” was ruthless. What would happen???

My heart was racing as they blindfolded me. What were they going to do? Nobody knew where I was. By the time anyone realized I was missing, it would probably be too late.

Just then, I heard a crash and glass breaking. Somebody shouted “Oh no, it’s HIM!!”
There was a scuffle and howls. And then there was silence.
Still blindfolded, I felt myself being carried. What was happening now???

Finally, I was set down on the ground. I took off my blindfold and found myself on the original path, where I’d first seen the woodland nymph. Then I looked down and saw my savior.

He bowed to me.

My Lady..

And then he was gone…..

I really need to move closer to work. My commute is getting weird……..

A 3 Year Old, A Love Triangle & a Little Bit of Incest

Over the weekend, I walked into the bathroom to find Zaven looking at the pipe under the sink. When I asked him what he was doing, this conversation happened:

 

Me: What are you doing
Zaven: I lost my wedding ring down the drain.
Me: Ummm…huh?
Z: My wedding ring went down the sink…I have to to take the sink apart.
Me: Wait…wedding ring? Who are you married to?
Z: (pause) Aunt Phae
Me: Aunt Phae? And what does Uncle Paul think about this.
Z: (turns to look at me…completely calm and straight faced) I don’t really care what he thinks.

 

Whoa.

I, for one, cannot WAIT until he starts pursuing real, non-incest, relationships. I’m sure there will be NO drama at all. Nope….no drama AT ALL.

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Going Bowling

I’m lucky enough to work for a company that provides several nice lactation rooms for all your breastfeeding & pumping needs. It’s one of those things that most people don’t know about until they’re in the position to need it. The usual reaction from my childless co-workers is “What?! We have one of those??”. Of course, my 6 daughter Amelia had the best reaction when she learned about it.. “There’s a special room?…Why don’t you just crawl under your desk to do it?” (oh, to be 6…).

I’m in a pretty good routine now at the end of my third week back at work. My co-workers know the drill (where I’m going, when I’ll leave, how long I’ll be gone), but a few of the young, childless, single guys obviously don’t want to acknowledge that they know what’s going on. I get it. It’s weird to them. It’s weird to put that image together with a super-hot co-worker who they see every day.

One such co-worker, Chris, who has a knack for getting into not-quite-work-appropriate conversations with me and then blushing a deep shade of scarlet, has found a graceful way for me to make my exit. One day last week, I picked up my bag and said “Ok, I’m going to go….”, trying to think of what else to say (other than “….milk myself”). Chris quickly followed up with “…bowling?”. The day before, we’d had a conversation about how much my pump-bag looks like a bowling bag.

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The whole thing is pretty old and clunky…definitely not subtle or well camoflaged. So, he said that and we all had a good laugh and there was a sigh of relief because nobody would have to say the words ‘pump’ or ‘breast’ (not me, I don’t care. I’ll say the word ‘breast’ all day long. Breast, Breast, Breast…)

So, we have a fun new euphemism and everybody feels comfortable. Hooray.

Of course, after a few days of “bowling”, Chris & I discussed how awkward it would be if we ever received an email from our manager announcing that we’d be having a department wide team-building outing….to go bowling.

Especially if they were providing the drinks.

Honda Love…

When you work the same hours every day, it makes sense that when you arrive to work you’ll park in approximately the same place every morning. I know I do. When I pull in, I see the same group of cars parked in the same few rows in the back 1/3 of the parking deck. Generally, the parking configuration varies a bit. However, at least 3 days a week, I find myself (& my Silver Honda Pilot) parked next to the same car (Gold Honda Pilot).
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Now, I know that Honda Pilots aren’t rare. In fact, looking at our parking deck, Pilots are the new go-to automobiles for young, hip families (SO much cooler than a mini-van). And I fully admit to occasionally parking next to another Pilot just for fun. But I’m starting to feel like this gold/silver Honda flirtation is getting compulsive. There are other Pilots around (steely grey, periwinkle blue), but Gold and I always seem to end up together.

And it gets weirder…
The other day, I was walking out and found the Gold Pilot parked to the left of my Silver (this is when I snapped the photo above). I was walking between the 2 cars and I happened to see a carseat in the Gold Pilot. I took another look and found that the Gold Pilot had an infant seat behind the passenger seat, a convertible seat behind the driver’s seat and a booster seat in the third row. This, oddly, is the EXACT configuration of carseats in my car. Exactly.

So, here’s my theory…
Either I have a Single White Female situation going on and this childless person is trying to take over my life OR this person is destined to be my friend. Thoughts? Either way, the other car was A LOT cleaner then mine, so it’ll probably be a good influence for me to hang out with this person.

Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes….

And by ‘diamonds’, I actually mean ‘duct tape’. Let me explain…

Since returning to work 2 weeks ago, it’s been a constant struggle to find shoes that are A) work appropriate, B) comfortable & C) match my still very limited wardrobe. I was digging through my closet the other day and I found this pair of suede Nine West pumps.

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These shoes are perfect.  The nude color matches everything.  The shoe extends up higher on the foot, so they’re incredibly comfortable.  And, best of all, I bought them at Jason’s store so I only paid $2.09. 

I spent the morning strutting through the newsroom, thinking about my fantastic shoes and planning the outfits I’d wear with them (I know…deep).  Then, as I was returning to my desk with my lunch, something seemed a little “off”.  I sat down and looked at my perfect shoes…and the entire sole was cracked….on both shoes.  Damn. 


Luckily, my manager found me a roll of tape (I referred to it as duct tape, but I believe it’s technically masking tape) and I made a quick fix.

So, what am I going to do now? This tape probably won’t hold my shoe past the end of the day. Do I get my $2 shoes fixed? It seems silly, but these are my perfect shoes right now (I don’t care that they have a skinny heel and were probably made in the late-90’s). I’m not even sure how one goes about having shoes fixed…where do I go? Hmmm…this will require some research.

Until then, I may have to rock some actual duct tape.  Seriously, that stuff is amazing.  Two weeks ago, when I fell and scraped my elbow up, I used duct tape and a paper towel until I bought some bandages (coincidentally, lifehacker recently recommended this).   And I can’t tell you how long my family drove our Ford Explorer around with duct tape holding the headlights together (with a spare roll in the glove compartment). 

While looking slightly more appropriate than the shiny silver duct tape, the masking tape isn’t quite cutting it.

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And on a sidenote, after writing this post, this is what’s going through my head:

And she said honey take me dancing
But they ended up by sleeping
In a doorway
By the bodegas and the lights on
Upper Broadway
Wearing diamonds on the soles of their shoes

Paul Simon

My Evening With Michelle Shocked

I’ve been more or less obsessed with Michelle Shocked since my Senior year of high school.  I can’t pinpoint when or why or even how I became a fan.  All I know is that Arkansas Traveler caught my attention and Short, Sharp, Shocked reeled me in.  She’s gone through phases, playing with different styles and genres, and I’ve been there at each turn.  My musical taste is fairly diverse, so it’s generally an easy transition.

For the fan that I am, I’ve fallen short on seeing her live.  It wasn’t always my fault- once I was ill after having my wisdom teeth out, another time my sister was graduating from college.  Then she wasn’t touring that much.  And once she WAS touring, she wasn’t coming to Atlanta.  I have managed to see her twice, once at the Ben & Jerry’s One World One Heart Festival when I was in high school and once right after I moved to Atlanta (so, 10 years ago).  But still, it’s not enough.

I literally jumped for joy when I saw that Michelle would be in Atlanta again.  I knew that I HAD to be there.  I couldn’t find anyone to go with, but that’s never stopped me before.  I bought the ticket, arranged my work schedule and waited.

The concert was last night and it was nothing short of magical.  If you’re not familiar with Michelle Shocked, go find her on YouTube and enjoy….but know that she sounds even better live.  The show was at Eddie’s Attic in Decatur, which is an amazing venue.  Picture a bar with a small stage in the corner…now picture Michelle Shocked standing there performing alone.  No band, no back-up.  Just her and a guitar filling the room.  Her voice is outstanding.  I’ve seen a lot of great vocalists perform, but she’s one of the best.  Her voice is powerful and sweet and she didn’t strain or crack once. 

What made the show truly great was the happiness that Michelle seemed to have in her heart.  She’s in love (and mentioned it several times) and she’s happy and it absolutely shows in her performance.  She played a few new songs, but she hit a lot of the old favorites too.  And not only did she play them, but she played them with vigor and enthusiasm (something she did NOT do the last time I saw her).  She sang, and she encouraged everyone else to sing, and it was just a really good time.

At the end of the show, she gave the standard “Okay, I’ll be in the lobby signing CD’s” and I immediately started planning my exit strategy.  I needed to get to work, but I REALLY wanted the chance to get a CD signed and maybe say ‘Hi’.  OF COURSE, I didn’t have any cash, so I ran to the ATM, all the while rationalizing that the line would probably go pretty fast anyway.  When I got to the table, there were maybe 5 people there and Michelle was just hanging out chatting with people.  I talked to the guy selling CD’s for a few minutes about my sick dog and the fairly terrible day I’d had before the concert while I waited in line.  The woman 2 people in front of me, who was clearly star-struck, had brought Michelle 2 bars of homemade soap.  The next guy was getting a CD signed for his daughter. 

When I stepped up, I gave Michelle Shocked a big smile….and Michelle Shocked gave me a big hug.  I told her, because it was true, that she’d made my day.  We talked about my puppy and how the universe had obviously conspired against me seeing her in concert.  I told her that I thought that she was so talented and that I couldn’t wait to see her upcoming project.  Then she graciously posed for a picture and gave me another hug.

I saw an amazing show and got two hugs from my hero……yeah, it was a pretty good night.

 

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By the way, I’m part of a group of Writer Mamas from Mothering.com having a Blog Carnival today.  Please check out these amazing blogs:

  • Code Name: Mama
  • Tripletly Blessed 
  • Green V-Neck 
  • Moderate Means 
  • Moo Said the Mama 
  • 1+2=Love
  • A Hippie with a Minivan
  •