This Little Boy...

This little boy…

Loves strawberries. He loves hummus and he loves ketchup, though thankfully not all together.

He loves to be outside, running through the grass with bare feet. His platinum, gossamer wisps of hair sparkle in the sunlight. He is the most beautiful thing I have ever, ever seen.

He is fearless with dogs and with danger in all forms, which does not a carefree momma make.

He says “Daddy” as clear as if he was 6, but his “Momma”s he holds back, playing hard to get till my heart might just burst from needing to hear it so badly.

He dances to Beyonce, and to the Elmo song on his sesame street mp3 player without preference.

He laughs hysterically at the jellyfish in Finding Nemo. Every. Single. Time.

He hugs his friends when he gets to school in the morning and yells “uh oh!” and runs in the other direction when I come to pick him up.

He is sweeter than a bowl of sugar drenched in syrup, covered in marshmallows and he is mine.

All mine.

This boy.

He is the love of my life.

hi.

I’m back.

But I’m not really back. I mean…..well, I don’t know. I just wanted to pop in really quick and give you guys an update on the shellac mani, and I was going to take a picture to prove to you that these things are, in fact, still chip free and perfect looking just like the day I got them done a full WEEK ago (which is totally incredible to me!) and then I went to take the picture and oh muh gawd my cuticles are a scraggy MESS so sorry, but you’ll have to trust me. the polish still looks amazing, the cuticles? Not so much. So I can admit when I’m wrong…I kind of love the shellac and I don’t know how I’m going to go back to regular now, but I feel like it will be better for my nails to save the shellac for special occasions so…sigh….first world problems.

I’m working on my mood. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who expressed concerns over my real estate drama and who offered advice, kind words and sympathy. It still sucks the big one, but we are working on a solution. Sometimes it just feels like it’s a never-ending cycle and I’m so sick of hearing “it’s only temporary” because it’s been a LONG ASS ‘temporary’ and I am more than ready to move on to a new phase. I need sunny skies and something to look forward to and daydreams and hope for the future and to KNOW…really, really KNOW in my heart that there is an end date to all the superfluous BS. I just want to live simply, with as few trivial mind-sucks as possible. I’m becoming so much more aware since Ben was born, like all parents, I’m sure, of how fast time flies. Of how if you make the mistake of blinking, all of the sudden they are graduating from college.  I’m becoming desperate to stop and pristinely absorb moments, but my head is so clouded with worries about money and other things that don’t matter. Thieves of joy, robbing me of Kairos Time. I just want to be with my baby, and know that the future holds for us endless exciting moments and beautiful memories that will turn him into a loving, thoughtful, creative, gracious, respectful, gentle, brilliant young man.

So yeah, hi. My nails still look great, sorry I am such a sad-sack sometimes, we’re getting in touch with a real estate agent, an attorney, the bank etc….and we’re still going to Sesame Place this summer. Come hell or high water, my boy will have breakfast with Elmo. I mean, let’s prioritize here, eh?

a break....

I was hoping to bounce back over here from my weekend hiatus all full of puppies and rainbows and good cheer…or give it the old college try anyway…and I still want to, you know? cuz being bummed out all the time is no fun. It just feels like whenever I work my ass off to pull myself back together emotionally, I get smacked with another setback. Some good things have happened to me lately, and I count my blessings but it seems like one step forward, two steps back these days more than I ever remember…..

I was looking forward to things like taking Benny to Sesame Place this summer…I was looking forward to that more than I have looked forward to ANYTHING in a really, really long time.

Anyway, our renter put an offer in on a house, which she thinks got accepted. Basically, this means that, until we find a suitable tenant to replace her, we have to swallow the entire cost of that mortgage on top of the loss we already take on it every month even when we do get rental income….without going into details, suffice it to say that’s really a lot of money. Like, just short of my entire salary, and, well, I don’t know what we’re going to do. Pollyanna would tell me it won’t last forever, but right now, it’s more than I can take, for however long it lasts. I just heard the news and already the weight is so heavy on me that I can barely breathe.

I’m thankful. I’m thankful that my baby is healthy. That’s all that really matters.

Also, if anyone knows any arsenists-for-hire, I will pay them my bottom dollar to burn down the apartment.

Just kidding. (not kidding at all, actually.)

So, I need to take a break for awhile. I am putting out too much negativity and nobody wants to hear it. I need to breathe, in a room, by myself, and draw up a plan. I need to think. I won’t be gone forever…. 

a penguin update & my first shellac mani

I know I left you guys hanging for a few days with that seemingly random post about the penguins. While it’s sure true that I feel for those guys, and I do think about them often, that little rant was a bit of a metaphor for how I have been feeling in my life these days…just to clear it up, you know, so you guys didn’t think I was blogging on ‘ludes or something…..

But I do love penguins. How can you not?

So yesterday I went and got my very first shellac mani in the history of ever. I know, I am tardy to the party once again. People have been raving about this for years now and I have been resistant….mainly due to time constraints (who’s got 45 minutes for a manicure these days?) and also because my inability to make a decision, coupled with my commitment phobia made it unfathomable for me to imagine wearing the same polish for 3 weeks….I mean, it takes me 20 minutes to pick a color for my regular manicure that’s going to chip in 4 days anyway, and I always end up getting some variation of “limo-scene” or “mademoiselle” ….

....snore...

Ok…going in, alls I knew was that it would involve me sticking my paws in little UV boxes…. Maybe I am not the last chick on earth to get a shellac, so let’s go over what all is involved, k?

First, you pick your color from fake nail shaped swatches instead of bottles on a spinny rack….this was neat, even though it didn’t make it any easier for me to decide. And even though I picked what was apparently the equivalent of OPI “bubble bath”. One day….one day people, I am going to get NEON ORANGE. I suck with color picking….I am le big chicken.

Ok, so then she does the filing, and, if you’ve ever had acrylics, it was a similar filing process, except without that sadistic electric filing wand torture device. She used a regular file to scruff up the whole top of my nail. I HATED that and the whole time, all I could think about was how my nails are going to be trashed, but at that point, there was no escaping, so I stuck it out…..

Blah blah blah….on went a solution that was liquidy like water and soaked in, then into the UV box…then, out came this little silver pot and a paintbrush. She took one hand out and applied this….stuff (scientific term) to each nail. I have no idea what I am talking about, but I feel like this was a very thin topping of what they would use to create gel tips…anybody know if I am right? So now I have this layer of way-thicker-than-polish stuff on, next comes 2 coats of the special “bubble bath polish” and then a sooper seekrit top coat, alternating with paws in the box…..

yes, i have a wonky pinky and yes, i know i am not wearing my rings. thanks for being so observant. do you know, if i lay my hand flat on the table, that pinky won't lay flat? and if you poke it down, it pops back up! i swear! some people think it's creepy, but it's my party trick. 

Now I’m stressing out, hating the whole experience because I am thinking I’m not going to get a good cuticle trimming or the oil or hot towel, and those are my favorite parts. It was all backwards and very weird. Once the nails were “cured” or whatever they do in that cancer cave, they were totally dry. I mean totally. Like, bang them on your keys trying to start your car while leaving like i ALWAYS do? Not a  problem. Toddler accidentally chomps on them while voraciously attacking the goldfish cracker you are holding? No sweat…..amazing. 

So, then, she wiped them off with polish remover (so bizarre) and then finished up with the things I thought I was going to miss out on, hot towel, cuticle oil, etc.which made me happy, but by then I was tense and unsure and really just wanted to get the hell out of there….

I know. I am a basket case. I see my therapist tomorrow. We should probably discuss this.

Price of a regular manicure - $8 + tip

Price of the shellac manicure - $30 + tip

Time it takes to do a regular manicure – 20 minutes + drying time

Time it takes to do a shellac manicure – 45 minutes. ish.

Verdict….I feel better about it today than I did yesterday. I am still concerned about what condition my nails will be in once they soak this concoction off….oh! That’s another thing. You can’t just take the polish off. Apparently, you have to go in and have them soak it off, just like removing fake nails….it’s basically acrylics with no tips, is what I think. So, when I have them soaked off, will I do it again? For a special occasion, sure. The shine is really incredible. The picture can't do it justice....they look like Pinterest nails (you know what I am talking about, girls)...It is the best looking manicure I have ever seen….I just keep staring at it! It would be great if you were going on a trip and wanted to be maintenance free, or for a wedding when you wanted to look extra special.

I’ll let you know how I feel in a week….I know, you're on the edge of your seats.

the penguins

At the zoo….

Do you think they are happy? Do you think they know any different? I mean, sure, some of them (all of them?) were hatched there at the zoo, so they don’t know any different, but instinctually, they have to know something is not right. It’s the ones that were captured from the wild and brought to the zoo (are there even any of those?) that I am most concerned about. Do they know? They get fed, they are kept warm….or cold…or whatever it is penguins like to be….and they are taught tricks and some lady with a whistle marches them out in groups a few times a day to dive into a pool and get applause. And fish. They look happy. But are they? Or have they just come to terms with the fact that this is how life is going to be for them now?

Source: clientsmanagement.com via MeghannIm on Pinterest

I think about the penguins at the Flamingo Hotel in Las Vegas a lot. Las Vegas is basically the exact opposite environment in which a penguin thrives, yet, there they are, waddling around outside in the scorching heat. I saw a sign up once that said not to antagonize the penguins because, due to the heat, they were molting and when they molt, they get bloated and crabby and will probably bite you. I wanted to let all of the penguins loose and then find the Penguin Manager and slap him. Of course they are crabby. They aren’t where they belong. They are trapped. For them, everything is all wrong.

I get that. Penguins are my homeboys.

Friday's Letters

Dear Neurotic Brain of Mine….chillax. The amount of people coming over tomorrow can be counted on two hands….you are not catering a Kardashian wedding or feeding an entire little league team…you do not need to make tacos, fajitas AND enchiladas too. Get a grip.

Source: biancanicoleee.tumblr.com via Rachel on Pinterest

Dear Kiki La’Rue….why ya gotta have such cute stuffs?? I want everything in your shop…especially these little numbers….I sense some trouble brewing in the credit card department….

One Shoulder Wonder  *  Sleeveless Southern Belle  *  Chelsea Clutch

Dear NY weather….W. T. F. ???  Enough with the crappy rain, ok? I know I’m spoiled from the balmy winter, but you know me, I am never satisfied, so knock it off. Besides, all this rain is making my hair frizz up and you know how I get when my hair frizzes up….nobody needs to see that.

Dear Benjemima….so, whining is your new thang, huh? That’s cool. And by cool, I mean totally unacceptable and making mommy hit the vodka a lot more than Weight Watchers probably wants me to. Let’s rationalize here (cuz rationalization always works awesome with toddlers, yes?)....I know our commute sucks. I hate it too, but I have to drive and concentrate and you get to kick back in a squished out bucket seat and watch Finding Nemo and sometimes, I even pass you goldfish. Cranking the whining up to eardrum busting decibels is especially discouraged when mommy is exiting the HOV lane, ok? Thank you for your cooperation. Jeez.

Dear Zac Efron….We have a date next week. I am sneaking out of the house after bedtime to come see you, all by myself. Be ready, hot stuff.

Dear Daisy….I really miss you and your stinky breath. I would give just about anything to scratch you behind your sweet, soft little ears and have you bring me my dirty sock in your mouth. I love you, girl.

Dear Cuz….I’m proud of you, sister girl! I have always and will always look up to you for all the things a little sister would….your amazing sense of style, your ambition and intelligence, your beauty inside and out. we don’t talk enough, but I want you to know that I love you very, very much and I am proud to call you mine.

Dear MCA....You were a trailblazer, and a musical genius. Your rhymes were the soundtrack of my youth. The sound you gifted to us all will be missed, without compare. F*CK YOU cancer. Seriously, F*CK YOU.

and last, but not least....

Dear Cinco de Mayo.....let's do this.

              

7 questions

Do you all know Gentri Lee? You must. She is an absolute doll, and her blog and her instagram just bring a little ray of sunshine to my day whenever she posts.

She hosts a weekly link up called “7 questions” that I just love to read, but for some reason, this is the first week I am participating….but, bring it on, I say!

Her first rule for the link up is that you have to post a silly picture of yourself…so, without further adieu…

And then you answer 7 questions from her...

These are her questions for this week....

1. What is your favorite day of the week and why?


well, see, my favorite day of the week is actually Friday night…I know “Friday night” is not technically a day, I mean, it is, but it’s not if you know what I’m saying? But hear me out…Friday has so much potential. Firday DAY is of moderate suck because of work, but there is still a glimmer of happy to it, since you know the end is near, right? I mean, it sure beats the hell out of Monday DAY. but Friday night….Friday night has a magic all its own. It is the furthest weekend time away from Sunday night, which I dread with a passion only second to that of the dread of Monday morning. Friday means letting out a deep breath, pouring a BIG glass of wine, kicking back on the couch with feet up. it means a little bit later bedtime and a little more sleeping in the next day. Friday night just plain rules.

2. If you decided to change your name, what would you change it to?


you guys are going to think I’ve done lost my mind but you know what? I am really, really feelin’ J. Simps’s baby girl’s name….Maxwell Drew! I know it is a boy’s name, but I love boy’s names for girls. If Benny was a girl, he was going to be Hailey James…I just love the quirky, cool factor, and the irony…so today, I pick Maxwell Drew.

3. What is one product you use (it can be for anything) that you feel is a miracle worker?


I don’t know about miracles, but I am sold on the Orofluido I got in my birchbox a few months ago. Moroccan oil is the bomb.com and this one is better than any I have tried. I love the way it smells, I love the way it feels and it tames my hair better than anything. I use it after I blow dry. Before I blow dry, I use the “It’s a 10” miracle leave in, which is also, somewhat miraculous!

4. High heels, flats, sneakers, or boots?


flats. Or sneakers. Or flat boots. Just as long as I am low to the ground. I bust my ass in anything over 1’’.  Sad.

5. You see your favorite celebrity (it can be any kid of celebrity- movie star, singer, writer, political leader, blogger) walking down the street, what do you do?


oh….heeeeere we go….well, my answer to this question depends on a) which celebrity happened to be walking down the street and b) how many drinks I had consumed before running into said celebrity. Let’s go through the options, shall we? And follow that up with a true story example…..

Lately, I’ve got a wicked crush on Zac Efron. I already know, ok? I should be embarrassed. But I’m not. He’s a stone cold fox…there, I said it. Can we all move on?

Ok, so if I saw Mr. Efron walking down the street, I would get those crazy heart palpitations that come with a panic attack and make your chest sting, and then, like a total creep, I would dart into an alley and just watch him….and then, if he went into any stores or anything, I would probably go into those stores too, once I caught my breath, and pretend like I didn’t even see him, all the while peering at him creepily from behind the racks. I would never talk to him. I suck.

If said celebrity were a blogger…like…oh…say….Ree Drummond, KelleHampton or Beth  Anne I would die on the spot. Once I was done being dead, I would scrape myself up off the floor, pull myself together, tackle her to the ground and smother her with kisses walk up and muster some composure, politely introduce myself, let her know just how much joy her words and ideas and thoughts and stories and pictures brighten my days and bring joy to my life, inspire me, feed my soul with a sense of solidarity… and then I would beg them for pictures, you know, so I could blog about it, and then I’d just mention that the bottom line is I think she kicks ass. Cuz I do….I think we all kick ass. Bloggers are the coolest.

Now….if the celebrity in question is Mr. David Cook, all bets are off….and if it just so happens to be around 1:00 in the morning on a hot, sexy, summer night in Virginia Beach, and I’ve been throwing cocktails back for the last 11 hours…well then….the result might be 5 minutes worth of awkward & absurd flirtatious conversation, a lot of laughs, a kiss on his cheek with one of his whiskers getting stuck in my lipgloss (fact.) and, well, something like this…

Because let it be known that even though the burner is just set to simmer right now, I still love this man and he loves me. We love each other. Forever.

6. If you could pick one item to never have to pay for again, what would it be?


I’m taking a cue from Gentri here and choosing gas. I drive a LOT and it gets expensive and it’s an expense that we’ll have forever, so….gas. that’s my final answer.

7. what was your favorite tv show or movie growing up?

The Brady Bunch….does that make me old? God, I used to love Peter Brady. I would sit in front of the t.v. and kiss his box when it popped up during the opening credits. Dork.

So....go on!!!! go link up with Gentri!

viva la fiesta...

So Cinco de Mayo is a big deal around these parts….

Being from SoCal, I consider myself at least a quarter Mexican, and lemme tell you something these Yankees up here know nothing about (besides being polite….but I digress….)

Mexican food!

So naturally, a couple of years after I wound up here, with a mean jones for a proper fiesta, I took it upon myself to educate a select few on the virtues of killer chicken fajitas, enchiladas suizas and margaritas made with hand squeezed lime juice, blood, sweat and tears (none of that margaritaville mix crap on my watch)…..

that's a LOT of freakin' limes, by the way.

I knocked on the wall of our co-op and hollered to Matt & Michele, who would soon become two of our very best friends, to come on over and do some shots, we made a couple of phone calls, the tiny apartment filled up and what resulted, was pretty much the stuff of infamy. In the years that followed,  that “select few” turned into, basically, everyone we knew (and a handful of rif raf we'd never met before)….t-shirts were made, friends flew in from Vegas, Colorado & Virginia, my mother-in-law did jello shots, somebody always ended up on the pole…. Usually not very gracefully…. things got rowdy….

(Yes. There was a stripper pole in my basement. Don’t judge.)

Last year, I was committed to not dropping the ball and I tried to throw the party to end all parties, all with a 5 month old strapped to my chest in the Moby. Yikes.

Sadly, this year, things are a little wonky and I can’t quite find my mojo, but at the last minute, I decided that maybe there won’t be worm eating, maybe there won’t be pole dancing but BY GOD, there will be guacamole!!!!

Ole, bitches. Viva la fiesta.