Now we're cooking with gas

So! Recent developments online today had me purchasing this dress for my brother's wedding.

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I love it. And, frankly, it was the ONLY dress that I have found that I liked. It seems as if almost every dress I saw fell into one of these categories:

For Work
For Prom
For Working the Pole
For Casual Whatnot

How can this be the case? Designers need to branch the eff out for gals in their late 30s and attending a wedding. At any rate, I ordered it. A co-worker and I measured my length using a wooden ruler and we're both hoping that 34" doesn't end being hoochie short. We shall see.

At any rate, I know that you all are very fashionable and that your appearances vary and so I would like your help/input/assvice on how to style it: accessories, shoes, hair.

Details--

Accessories: Off the top of my head, I can't think of anything that I'm adverse to. Like, yellow gold is okay as is mixing colors. I find bracelets annoying after eight or so hours at work but could sport some/one if you happen to suggest one that looks fabulous.

Shoes: That model is wearing some sky-high wedges and I am down with high heels, but I need to be able to wrangle small fries and not be a handicapper the next day. Also, I am worried that something super high might make the dress that much more hoochie short. Who knows.

Hair: I have brown hair and blunt bangs and want my hair off my neck. Am getting my hair did for the occasion so my current skill set doesn't need to be a consideration. Leave that biznass to the professionals, I say.

So that's that. 


Now send me your ideas!

Sand in the crevices

On Saturday we met Sara and Noah at the beach.

Ezra about came out of his skin with excitement when we arrived, and I can't say I blame him. It was a good time.

Photo snaggled from Sara.

Yeah this one too.

Passed OUT before we even left the
state park. Always the sign of
a good time.

Small faces

So while I was chatting a mile minute about both appropriate (feelings, siblings, parents, work, husbands) and inappropriate (wiener glitter, sex, men we don't find hot at all, how stripper dollar bills are probably slimy and smell dodgy) this weekend, my fabulous husband manned the fort and was fabulous.

I mentioned yesterday having some nervous tummy about leaving them and the worry fell into two camps.

Camp One: I haven't been away from Ezra overnight since I went to a work conference three years ago and then, a few months later, in the hospital for the Sneak Attack Birth. I haven't been away from Iris since she came home from the hospital. I would miss them them a lot. Maybe I would feel sad.

Camp Two: Our housecleaner came on Friday. T is all very devil-may-care about crumbies and whatnot. Would I need to burn the house down upon arriving home on Sunday?

Well, I diiiiiidn't really miss the family like I thought I would and the house was clean. Color me shocked on both levels. 

I was very happy to be home to see my favorite brown faces on Sunday afternoon and it was nice to feel missed by T. Ezra and Iris, honestly, seemed a bit indifferent. Ah well.

T even took them to the public museum.

Oh, dimples.

Good for the soul

This weekend I drove to Ohio and met Becky and Sara and Shelly. We'd been planning the trip for months and I had excited tummy.

I was also nervous about meeting them and nervous about leaving Ezra and Iris overnight. Turns out I should've been more nervous about getting lost in a v. suspect end of town that smelled mysteriously of hot dogs. 

We met at the hotel and there were hugs and belly laughs and my lingering cough that made me want to reassure them that I don't have a two pack a day habit. We chatted like we knew each other but wanted to know more. 

We ate some ridiculously tasty Mexican food, saw Magic Mike, shopped, ate dinner and drank kicky drinks.

I am still worried that I said things that were stupid or too off-the-cuff or asked questions that were too prying. And to feel that way is strange because it's combined with missing them and feeling sad when we said "goodbye." 

It was a good weekend. They are good friends.

Pink lace fedoras. We sported such
douchery only for the photo.

Random useless tidbits

Holy balls on the typos and misspellings (evoluation? fowl? others...) in that last post. It's almost as if I was drunk when writing it.

However, it seems that many of us share a desire to not be touched while sleeping. Love it.

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Iris is picking up more and more on numbers and colors and each time it makes me sigh heavily and feel reassured that she/we're doing okay. 

This morning while on the way to daycare she said, "Mama, two blue car dere (there)." 

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I need my bangs trimmed--as I am less this and more this. The length bugging me is minimal but too long and I feel nuts.

Update! Bangs trimmed at lunch.

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Speaking of hair, I have been trying to have less hoopty hair as of late. In addition to it actually feeling long I have decided to up my game and try Fancy Stuff. Granted, I really only try Fancy Stuff on the days I work 1pm-9pm as I have time to dink around unrushed. So, you know, I'm not exactly storming the gates of fabulous hair.

Anyway, I've tried this and this and have liked both.

I still need to hone my craft so that I can have nicer hair more than just once a week. Although, that could be a stretch.

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Random pictures?

Don't mind if I do.

Telling the bug, "WAKE UP, BUG! COME ON!"
T made a definitive motion across his neck
to indicate that the bug was no longer with us.

Nighttime evoluation

Two themes we've got going on: 

Ezra waking up at 5:30am

Ezra calling me for at 5:30am

However! The boy who previously never, ever got out of his bed without us first coming into get him, is now getting out of his bed like a super mega big boy. And I? Freaking love it.

He still calls out, "MAAAAAMAAAAA!" (he has never called for T) (what the fresh hell is that about?) once, but then--as coached--he seems to remember and gets out of bed, turns on his little lamp, takes his Pull-Up off, puts his undies on, takes his Pull-Up to the bathroom garbage, grabs his blankie, and climbs into bed with us. 

It is so, so fabulous. So. Fabulous.

Now for two snags:

He will only lay on my pillow.

Last night I woke up and he was suddenly next to me. It was 2:30am.

I don't know what's going on with the pillows and I can certainly share (I'd really rather not) as we have king sized pillows, but really, kid? T was out of town earlier this week and Ezra would not lay on his pillow or even his side of the bed. This morning, as T got out of bed, he told Ezra, "Dude, scoot over to my side." Ezra refused. T laughed because Ezra was glued to my side and I was fowl because I was tired and don't like to be touched when I'm sleeping. (It's a Thing.)

As for appearing by my side suddenly in the night, it was odd. It was odd because I didn't feel him crawl over me and I'm generally a very light sleeper. But I guess it mostly feels odd because for him to show up in the night means he's comfortable getting out of bed and wandering about.

Mostly, though, we were all so bleary-eyed. I looked at my phone. 2:41am. WTF, little man. You are not supposed to be here. I told him, "Ezra. Baby. It's too early. It is not morning time. It is still sleepy time. Look at the clock. It needs to start with a six before you come in here. Let's go back to bed." 

I carried him back to bed and tucked him in and restarted his sound machine and he said, "Night night, Mama." and feel asleep.

At any rate, T is going to set the bunny clock tonight to have daytime bunny light up and remind Ezra when it's okay to suddenly appear in our room, not unlike an apparition.

I understand if all of this is making you grimace because your own children have been managing themselves quite nicely without your assistance. And while it was delightful for him to stay put and enjoy his bed for the first 48 months of his life--I'm so very happy he is a tidgy bit more independent now. 

Even if it is at the cost of having to share my pillow.

Little face.

Zoo touche

I have been feeling a bit sad lately. A delightful combination of Life's poo in addition to missing, wondering, thinking about Noah. I recognize that it's all normal but, balls, if it doesn't blow when it comes out of nowhere in the middle of the summer. 

And in a bit of foreshadowing, the zoo animals on Monday all seemed either: a) put-out (bear) or b) exhausted by life (ape).

Well played, zoo. Well played.

Love/hate Friday

Love: I hardly ever take Iris to appointments any more. She just doesn't have them.

Hate: The few annual ones she does have (pulmonology, cardiology, genetics) are so sporadic that the offices just send us the date/time. I'm not a fan of just being told when to show up. 

Love: I was able to have a marathon chat with Red Door yesterday morning. 

Hate: I still miss her.

Love: I went rogue and wore jeans to work today. 

Hate: Playing phone tag with other friends.

Love: Ezra gets to ride a big time school bus for the first time today. His class is taking a morning field trip to a splash pad.

Hate: That I'm missing it. As he's getting older, it's getting harder for me to miss these kinds of Firsts. These are even harder for me than when he took a few steps at school for the first time. 

Love: I get to have an out of town, overnight getaway with Sara and Becky and Shelly next weekend!

Hate: I have to work tomorrow and T is sickly so it could turn into Wild America while I'm gone. Could be bleak.

Love: On Monday I am going with Ezra and his class for a field trip to the zoo. I get to be a room mom!

Hate: It is going to be 92 and oh my lord I will be so manky by the end of the trip.

Love: This video of Ezra doing some Just Dance on the Wii. This damned Kris Kross song plus some other techno songs are his all-time favorites. He might grow up to be a cross between a club kid and an old school hip-hop aficionado.

Random useless tidbits

So the progress with the jobs chart is going swimmingly. Thank you so much for your feedback. I loved reading your take on it all and it really helped clarify a bit where we want to take this.

Ezra was/is! majorly geeked about it all and I love so much that he wants to feel purposeful and work towards something. Sometimes I see characteristics like this (the desire to work hard, trying to understand the concept of patience and diligence) and it reassures me a bit that we're not failing to teach him vital life skills. Ugh.

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We went to the swimming pool a lot this weekend and Iris is allllll about it.

She likes for us to hold her under her belly so that she can kind of flail her arms and also kick her legs. And if you happen to stop because, oh, your ARMS ARE TIRED, she shouts, " 'WIM! 'WIM!"

It makes me feel like her swim-monkey-bitch.

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I've been dreaming a lot about famous people lately. A LOT.

Andy Cohen
Tom Cruise
some chick from the Bachelorette even though I never watch the show
some others I can't remember now

It's probably due to watching Bravo and reading US Weekly before bedtime, but the Andy Cohen dream was a nightlong dream. The entire night. And he wasn't gay. And was my husband and did motivational speaking. He was also very pleasant and kind and at one point was on crutches. 

I don't even know.

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Oh! So some of you asked for the casserole recipe that I mentioned in my fourth of July post and it's basically this:

9x13 dish (I've made it smaller in an 8x8, too)
Sausage-y crumbles on the bottom
Eggs (For a 9x13 this required about 14 eggs which kind of boggles my mind)
As much damn cheese added in as you want + some milk to make it fluffy
Pour the egg/cheese/milk mixture on top of the sausage layer
Cook at 350 for 30-40 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean

It's super easy and tasty and even reheats well.

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Last night after working late, I went and got a McDonald's ice cream cone and, holy hell, my stomach was not a fan.

And it was a vanilla, of all things, so not only did I get a gurgley stomach but it wasn't even chocolate or twist.

Never again.

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Awhile ago on Twitter I asked for suggestions on how to recognize some local staff members at the Starbucks I go to regularly before work.

I just finally got around to leaving a long message on the Starbucks website and I'm really hoping some recognition gets passed down. These employees are some of the kindest I know. They're just wonderful and thoughtful and they make me happy.

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I picked up Iris' flower girl dress for my brother's wedding and holy snakes on a plane it is ridiculously cute.

I need to get crack a lackin' on something to wear for me.

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I would like to be eating some sour cherries. Not the actual fruit (please), but the red dye #40, high-fructose corn syrup ones.

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What are your random tidbits?

"I'm not judging..."

A staff member who works elsewhere in the building is notorious for: a) sharing her opinions and b) spreading the good word (aka workplace gossip). I have learned that in my exchanges with her to keep my answers brief.

Yesterday she ambushed me at the Reference Desk and I was trapped like a motherscratching rat:

Her: "How are your kids?"

Me: "Oh they're good. Busy. Lots to say."

Her: "Where do they go to daycare? Is Ezra in school yet?"

Me: "No, he just started preschool at their daycare. They're just over at (X). We love it there."

Her: "But don't you wish you could be home with them?"

Me: "No."

Her: "Really?"

Me: "Really. I mean, maybe now because they're fun and engaging."

Her: "Oh. But what about when they were babies? Wasn't it hard to leave them with someone else?"

Me: "Not really. And they're thriving there. I like my job here. There you have it." 

Her: "Oh. Well, my daughter works from home but she doesn't really work from home because she stills has to call in Help and, well, my grandson is on 'The spectrum' has some special needs and, well, she just shouldn't work. I'm not judging when I say that, but really. She just shouldn't."

Folks, I can't even.

My decision is not quite as easily compartmentalized as was shared with her, but this woman does not need to know the background to my/our decision making process nor the exact outcomes.

So much ridiculousness.

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Will work for superheroes

Lately, I've been mulling over how to handle household responsibilities and allowance with Ezra. And I say "I" because T and I haven't really talked about this, so this is all me here. What usually happens is that I ruminate for a fair amount of time, decide how I feel about something and then pitch it to T. He mulls it over and we come to a consensus or middle ground. 

There are umpteen different ways to teach children about money. Some I think are okay, some I think are great, some I'm not sure would work for us. And much like deciding how we as a couple were going to handle our finances, it's up to us. You do it differently? It works for you? Go one with your bad self. We think (X) is what we're going to do.

At any rate, growing up how we were assigned household tasks and given allowance sort of evolved and I see now that my parents really had no formulated plan ahead of time. It was important that we pitched in and it was important that we had money of our own. Charitable giving and community service were very important.

So this morning in the car, Ezra started talking about wanting to buy a new superhero (even though I'm pretty sure all of the DC Comics and Marvel gang currently reside in my bathtub) and so I broke it down for him: 

• He needs money to buy new superheros.
• One way to have money is by doing jobs.
• Mama and Papa go to work and do a job so that they have money to buy things like food and clothes and time at the swimming pool.
• Some jobs, though, don't pay money but need to be done and are just as important--like when I cook food or wash clothes.
• I do those jobs because I am part of the family and the community.
• If he's interested, he can have some jobs that he will receive money for that he can then save for new superheros. He will also have some jobs that he will need to do that he won't get money for because he is part of the community.

There was quiet.

I tried to talk slow and explain it what I meant when I said "community" and whatnot and I think he got it.  I also talked slow because it was 8:00am on a Monday and I was trying to kind of parent on-the-fly. There was more quiet and then he said, "Mama, I have a question. If I help you put food on the table when it's hot I won't get money for that because I am part of the family."

Ding dong. We've got a winner.

So I told him I would come up with a chart today and that after school we would talk about which jobs he can do for money and which jobs he will need to do because he's part of the family.

But! I want to know more, like:

1. Growing up, what do you wish your parents had taught you about money?
2. What are some age-reasonable jobs for a small person to handle? I have a few written down, but could use a few more.

New development: pitched all of this over the phone to T (he is traveling) and he is in there like swimwear.

Game on! Or, Chore on!

Old lady holiday cronepants

Our fourth of July was lovely. There was the annual neighborhood parade that is low key and fun (and, started in 1934, it's the longest running parade in the state) and then brunch with the fam where I made a sausage, cheese, egg casserole. 

I would like to pause a moment to: a) give a shout out to sausage, my one true love and b) give a recommendation for this stuff. It cut down on my prep time in the morning and, son of a biscuit, you couldn't even tell that I hadn't browned it that morning. Holla. Also, click on that link and ask yourself if you've been feeling the glow. Haaaaaaaa. That's some good ad copy right there.

And then there was swimming because apparently the Midwest has been relocated to the equator and my delicate flower of an East African husband can't hang. 

But, oh, the fireworks. Our state passed a new law undoing many of the restrictions that had been placed on fireworks--purchasing, selling, setting them off--and it's been nuts. Last night there were asshats setting them off at 1:00am. Ezra sleeps like the dead, but Iris woke up and felt the rage. Poor girl. 

And loud noises after 10:00pm pretty much give me the rage as well. I started dreading the fireworks at a very reasonable time of two in the afternoon. And since Iris waking up also woke me up, I am now drinking a mocha with an extra shot of espresso in it. Mostly, though, I want to toss it in the faces of the clowndogs keeping us awake.

I used to like fun things more and not be such a stick in the mud, but until you've had your daughter wake up at 12:53am and 3:59am and 5:04am, well, that takes some of the funtime wind out of your sails. I want to fly a banner that says, "PRESERVE ALL THE SLEEP!" as that's been my mantra for a little over four years now.