Of Mice and Men

January 18th, 2009 § 2 comments § permalink

As I mentioned, I’m really enjoying a bunch of craft blogs. Universally, these women (always women) who create these blogs seem to have these lives that involve cups of warm tea, knitting while the kids make imaginary worlds out of scarves and cardboard boxes, and lots of nature walks. I’ve learned that when a child is home for the day, all you need is a pile of books, a few art projects, and the ingredients to make fresh bread or ginger molasses cookies.

Last week, Pie was home sick. Did I say sick? The girl psyched me out. On Thursday night, she had a 101.2 fever. The next morning, she woke up with 100.5. Within two minutes of my calling her sick into preschool, her fever dropped, and she spent the day hovering in the 99.1 range. You know. The not-sick range. So she was bouncing off of walls. On the coldest day of the year. When the high was 14 degrees. And the low subzero.

I had a lovely day for myself planned. On Monday, I had spent the morning in Pie’s preschool, making snowman pancakes with the class, because Pie had been jealous that I go in weekly to Doodles’s classroom (of course, a half hour before I was to go in, she said, “I changed my mind! I don’t want you there.” but she got over it). On Wednesday I was in the kindergarten (and I’ve told Doodles’s teacher that I can no longer work at his table, because it makes me crazy. I want to yell, “Stop being a Chatty Cathy and focus on your work!” But he’s not doing anything different from any of the other kids and I just need to work at another station). Tuesday is ballet; Thursday is ice skating. But as I promised all you people a completed draft of my novel, and I’ve actually been thinking about it and I have a ton of ideas and I have started working on it (and I’ve been reading Manuscript Makeover: Revision Techniques No Fiction Writer Can Afford to Ignore and it’s given me some good starting points; revision has always been a weakness of mine); I was anxious to dive into my novel. Especially because Monday is MLK Day so no school for the wee ones.

But the best laid plans, yadda, yadda, yadda. Pie was kinda sorta sick. The novel could wait. Alone time is overrated. I needed to take care of my baby. So Pie and I had a morning together, alone at home. And I’ve read my blogs. I know what to do. I set us up in the living room. I put her on the couch. I pulled a blanket over her. I made myself a cup of tea. And I turned on Noggin and stopped reading those blogs. I’m feeling much better now. Maybe I’ll even make some ginger molasses cookies. Or I’ll buy some from Wilson Farms and pretend I made them. See. I can be crafty, too.

Marie of Romania

January 18th, 2009 § Comments Off on Marie of Romania § permalink

Bryant GoldI need a color for my office that will meld nicely with another color for the bedroom, because the spaces really lead into one another. My architect doesn’t like Bryant Gold. My husband doesn’t like Bryant Gold. My mother doesn’t like Bryant Gold. Adam likes kind of a dark gray-blue. My mom is a fan of greens. The architect suggested some yellows. Bryant Gold doesn’t go much with any other colors we like. So, of course, I’m using Bryant Gold. Because I like Bryant Gold. I’m a rebel that way.

There’s also a lighting fixture I love. Nice. Old-fashioned. Very classic. Can’t you see it hanging over Robert Benchley’s desk? I’ve been told it’s too big for the space I have. Guess who’s going to have a too-big lighting fixture in her office?

I have this vision in my head–I want my office to be Dorothy Parker (without the suicidal tendencies floating around). My first thought to achieve that was more of a russet color, but it was simply too much for the space. To me, Bryant Gold evoked much of the same feeling. So Bryant Gold it shall be! Of course, we’re blowing our whole budget on the renovation, so I don’t have a desk for my Dorothy Parker office, but we’ll find something soon. Adam really wants to get rid of a lot of our current furniture–and I admit, much of it has seen better days–but we’ve agreed to hold onto everything for the time being. As we can afford nice pieces, we’ll replace what we have, but in the meantime, I’m reading books like Use What You Have Decorating and 750 Great Ideas for Decorating on a Budget: Transform Your Home Inside & Out. And my computer will sit on the floor or a card table for a bit. It’s what you do for Bryant Gold.

I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I’m under the table,
after four I’m under my host.
–Dorothy Parker

Master Manipulator

January 13th, 2009 § 2 comments § permalink

I can only hope she’ll use her powers for good and not evil. I don’t think it likely, but I can hope.

Today, after ballet, I took Pie to the bookstore in my quest for some design books. Now that I know that a designer is out of the budget, I’ve taken it upon myself to educate myself at least minimally on design. Which meant standing for about 45 minutes in the Design/Interior Decorating section of Barnes and Noble, trying to figure out how The Big Book of Window Treatments is different from Design Ideas for Window Treatments, which is different from Window Treatments Idea Book how? I couldn’t figure it out, so standing there in the aisles of the store, I not-so-discreetly put all the books on reserve at my local library. The one book that really did look interesting, though, was a $45 book (only $30 at Amazon), which is on hold by many other people, but I’m on the waiting list, too, because I’m trying to save all available cash reserves for, oh, you know, furniture.

But the Pie was a patient girl, and while she made many requests for a book of her own, I was able to dissuade her and keep her nearby. I took my time, browsing the 50% off table and looking through the writing books. To appease her, I told her she could pick out a magazine for herself to read while we got a treat. Ladybug or Nat Geo Little Kids maybe or even Highlights High Five, if I was feeling particularly generous. She was pleased with this idea and I figured it would buy me time to look at the design magazines.

So off to the magazines we go. And then she began. “Brides! I see brides! Weddings! Look, Mommy, a wedding magazine! Can I have a wedding magazine? How about just a small one. Please? PUH-LEASE? Mommy, I really need a wedding magazine. I need it for me and Jasmine. Mommy, I want a wedding magazine. See, Mommy, this one is a little one? Can’t I have just a little wedding magazine? Just a little one? It’s okay, Mommy, just a little one. Mommy, I really, really want a wedding magazine! Please? Please? Please? Please?”

I insisted not, that there was just something morally repugnant about buying a three-year-old a wedding magazine (although I didn’t state it in those words), and that no, absolutely not, she could not have a wedding magazine, the kid magazine are just over there and she can have whatever kid magazine she wants.

“But Mommy I want a wedding magazine! With a bride! I need a bride. Oh, please, Mommy, oh please! Oh all right. Where are the kid magazines? Look! Look! Look, Mommy, look! Cinderella is on this magazine! Can I have this magazine? Oh, please! Can I have the Cinderella magazine,” to which I quickly replied, “Sure!”

It wasn’t until I had paid for the magazine, purchased a vanilla milk, and was reading some inane cartoon about Snow White that I realized the girl had completely hoodwinked me. I mean, on what planet was I going to buy her a princess magazine? But that master manipulating mind of hers realized if she posited it against the wedding magazines, it was a no brainer! Of course she could have the princess magazine! (Did I use the word posit correctly there? Hmmm…)

That girl is smart! And it scares me. I need to increase brain power. Maybe start doing crossword puzzles or something? Someday she’s going to be a powerful CEO. Or world leader. Or grifter. Hard to tell at this point.

Note: This post brought to you by copious amounts of Noggin and homemade chocolate chip cookies. I’m going for the coolest mom award today.

Apropos of Nothing

January 12th, 2009 § 2 comments § permalink

My son, tonight, when he had the opportunity to choose any show to watch tonight, requested “a wedding show.”

And right now I’m selecting lighting fixtures and color and it turns out that Adam and I totally agree on the former and not at all on the latter. This should be fun, except that I’m just not a stylish person and I find the process painful and stressful. I want to hire a designer to help us, only the first one we priced gave us a quote that was higher than our entire furniture budget. So we may be on our own here except for the kindness of friends with good taste.

But I’m still giving my Martha side a go. The kids and I tonight made homemade tortillas for dinner. Do you have any idea how easy it is to make homemade tortillas? It’s so ridiculously simple I can’t believe how much I wasted on these mondo packs of tortillas only to toss them out when the family ate 2 1/2 out of 12. We made six–and they’re all gone.

Apropos of nothing, I love Carol Kane. We don’t see enough Carol Kane. And if you know why I said that, then you’re watching what I’m watching, so you can’t judge me.

And continuing this randomness, I hate winter marathon training. I have dreams of the Goofy Challenge, but it’s another January marathon and I’m so sick of running on ice and snow. I can’t wait for this marathon to be over so I can be a lazy ass again.

Did I mention that I hate color? I do. I think our new house will be all black and white. Just so I don’t have to pick any colors.

Doodles turned down a concert at the library because he’s just not into music. And he’s grown out of our yearly SteveSongs concert, which is too bad–he’s going anyway. He hates babysitters even more than he hates music.

Bed. I need bed. I’m scared of bed, though. Because I dream in color. But all the wrong colors.

Stressy Me

January 11th, 2009 § 1 comment § permalink

I’m contributing to the delinquency of a diva. The snow is piling up outside. Adam isn’t feeling well, so he’s napping. We’ve read books, shoveled in the snow (just for fun and we discovered the greatest snow fun there is–I pull sheets of ice off the picnic bench in the backyard and the kids jump on it to shatter it), had hot chocolate, wrote some thank you notes, kids played with Legos and painted and I cleaned, and we started packing. And it’s only 3 p.m. I don’t have the energy for an afternoon of Mickey Mouse Playhouse and Imagination Movers, so I’ve turned on Wedding Central and the kids are riveted. Pie’s already chosen her cake: “It’s going to be the biggest one in the world. It’s going to have chocolate sticks with trees and a piggy. And it’s going to be Pie and Jasmine.” For what it’s worth, I did try to show them both Land Before Time and Charlotte’s Web but Pie freaked out at both of them, and Doodles finally said, “Can we just keep watching the wedding channel.” Et tu, Doodles?

It’s been a languorous weekend. Despite sounding like I got a lot done this morning, I’ve had this lazy haze about me. I’m feeling unusually stressed these days as there’s a lot coming up. Two things are on the forefront of my mind:

The first is the house remodel. We’ve given our notice on the apartment–we’re to be out by February 28–and things are supposedly in the fast-moving stage of the house. I’m not completely sure I believe it. We were stuck at a point where I couldn’t see the changes–electrical work, plumbing work, waiting for inspections. But now we’re moving. Insulation is in. The walls started going up on Friday. Plastering will be done this week. According to the contractor, we’re about two weeks away from the hardwood floors going in (one of the final steps). According to the architect, we’re supposed to be picking out paint colors. So we have about six weeks till we’re out of here and in the house. Only, we’re going to be gone for ten of those days, which means we get back from our trip, and will have just five days to get out of the apartment…

Which brings me to my second stress. Our trip. We’re going to Israel. Yes, Israel. And I’m waffling big time on the trip. Everyone I know who’s ever been to Israel tells me I’m being silly and it’ll be fine. For starters, we’re going nowhere near the Gaza. For second, we’re going with a tour group (with our synagogue), so we’ll be on a tour bus with security on the bus. They’ll be constantly checking the security situation and revising our itinerary as needed. We won’t be on any public transportation at all. The biggest issue is that we won’t be allowed to do many of the things I really have enjoyed doing in the past (like shopping in the shuk. I’d been fantasizing about everything I was going to buy for our new home, but that’s totally out at this point). We leave in about four weeks. And four weeks in Middle East terms can really be a lifetime. For the first time ever, we bought travel insurance, which means up to 24 hours in advance of the trip, we can cancel and still get 75% of our money back. But I really don’t want to cancel. Adam’s never been and I’m anxious for him to see it. Israel is such an amazing country (I’ve been three times already, including a six-month stay on a kibbutz). But–and this is not an invitation for anyone get to political with me; I don’t do politics here–I’m feeling vaguely terrified. How do I decide whether or not to go? (And yes, it’s “me.” Adam really isn’t worried at all, he’s said, and he’s looking forward to the trip, as is the rest of our group.) I’m literally waking up in the middle of the night worried about taking my kids into a war zone. Yet every time a trip to Israel has been postponed (my sister missed out a trip in the ’80s), it’s been for naught. I am absolutely certain if I cancel the trip, I’ll seriously regret it. I am confident that once we get to Israel, it will all be fine. But I can’t stop my stomach from churning now.

So I’m trying to focus on other things. Like the marathon I have coming up in two weeks. And the craft projects I want to do as soon as we get into the house and I have easy access to my sewing machine. I’m officially addicted to craft blogs. And I’m thinking about organizing (starting with photos and ending with the kids’ toys in the new house). And packing boxes (I’m storing them in Beetle’s basement so there isn’t a mad rush when we get back from Israel). And Pie’s wedding. And the multitude of other minutiae that crop up.

And come March 1, I’ll be a sane person again. Relatively speaking, of course.

New Year, Old Me

January 6th, 2009 § Comments Off on New Year, Old Me § permalink

I’d like to start tonight with a scene from Stop N Shop this afternoon. My three-year-old daughter is sitting in the cart. We’re shopping.

Pie: Mommy! Can I get more yogurt?
Me: Sure. Would you like grown-up yogurt or kid yogurt?
Pie: Um, grown-up yogurt.
Me: Okay, would you like strawberry or blueberry or peach?
Pie: I want the brown yogurt.
Me [I pick up the chocolate yogurt and check out the 37 grams of sugar]: No, sweetie, not the brown yogurt.
Pie: I WANT THE BROWN YOGURT!
Me [trying to distract]: How about a kid yogurt? I see Dora and Diego over there.
Pie’s eyes widen.
Pie: Hannah Montana! I want Hannah Montana yogurt! Please, Mommy, can I have Hannah Montana yogurt?

So, yes, my daughter is the proud owner of six (wait, she ate one already so make that five) Hannah Montana yogurts. I still don’t know how she knows Hannah Montana.

All of that, by the way, is completely irrelevant to this evening’s post. I had intended to write more about the Miami trip, but as the skies are clouding up and the air has that unmistakable smell of snow storm (what is that smell anyway? How is it you really can smell a storm coming in?), Miami seems years and years ago and I can only vaguely conjure up the peace of daily ice creams, on-call babysitters, sunshine on the boat, and the camaraderie of old friends.

Instead I am faced with a new year, but the same old me. Every year I make resolutions, and last year, I failed miserably on most, but made progress on a few. Not that I’d tell you all the resolutions, but I can name a few…

  • More kid time: This one is going fairly well. I try to make time each day with each kid to spend one-on-one with. It’s harder with the school schedule–I definitely get more one-on-one time with Pie, but I’ve been working on it with Doodles, trying to read more with him, have him read to me, work on his writing. But I definitely get more time reading Eloise, playing Candyland Castle, or baking hallah with Pie. I need to make more of an effort on this.
  • Get to and stay at 133 lbs: Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! ‘Nuff said.
  • Go greener: This was my most successful resolution. I kept bags in my car and cut our bag usage down by probably about 75%. I was disappointed that our remodel wouldn’t allow for solar panels (we had the house evaluated and were told we don’t get enough sun for solar), but I did convert both our house and the apartment to wind energy. Slowly converting our light bulbs over. Buying energy efficient appliances for the “new” house. Trying to teach the kids about conserving (“No, Pie, you don’t need a new sheet of paper–just use the back of this!” Which works about as well as you’d think it would). I freecycled an incredibly amount of stuff when we cleaned out the house–I was shocked at some of the stuff people wanted: half used tubes of joint compound, the paint samples we had from when we painted our house years ago, Adam’s old economic textbooks, car window tinting, a bag filled with odds and ends of paper. The only thing I couldn’t get rid of was a box of Barney VHS tapes.
  • Close e-mail and the Web more: Um, this was the year of Facebook and Twitter. So obviously, a big fat X here.
  • Run a four-hour marathon: Hey, I’m happy enough with 4:13:36.

This year, I’m keeping the same resolutions here and adding a few more. Again, many aren’t for public consumption, but a few additions this year are:

  • Read 26 books this year: I know 52 is the logical number here, but hey, that is so not going to happen.
  • Take advantage of the teachable moments: Too many times I let the great opportunities with the kids pass by, because we’re in the car, I’m cooking dinner, or because I’ve just been bombarded with questions for the previous twelve hours.
  • Set a writing schedule: Because I did promise all of you I’d complete the first draft of my novel.

Is that all my resolutions? No. Not even all my public ones. But once again, I can hear the Pie from the other room, so I’m going to tend to my daughter. I’m still adding to the resolutions list, so any that anyone wants to pass on, feel free!

You Can’t Go Home (to Boston) Again

January 3rd, 2009 § 1 comment § permalink

Here we are, sitting at Miami International Airport, waiting for our 9:45 p.m. flight that has so far been delayed to 10:15. The kids are exhausted. In an attempt to keep them awake, I made the smart and rational decision to pump them full of sugar in hopes of keeping them awake until we board the plane, because Pie already fell asleep once on the way to the airport and then again when sitting on Adam’s lap at the gate. I went in search of cash, but the ATM was out of money, I tried to buy a trashy magazine, but there were no People magazines in English, and I’m really not excited about going from mid 70s weather to sub-freezing temps. Call me crazy like that. Of course, once we get to Logan, we still need to get a shuttle to our off-site parking, drive home, and somehow transfer the kids upstairs to bed.

Our trips to Miami have a certain rhythm to them, a checklist of activities to be ticked off. Trip to Jungle Island and/or the Seaquarium? Check. Ice cream at the Frieze? Check, check, check. Stone crabs? Check. Spa day at the Standard? Check. New Year’s eve at my cousins’? Check. New Year’s day ride on my cousin’s boat? Check. Runs on the beach? Check. Pool time, alone time (as the kids stay with the Nana), lunch at Van Dyke, breakfast at Front Porch, cafe con leche, cafe con leche, and just to be safe, another cafe con leche. Check.

This trip was no exception. T Rex and Pad were in town (from California) as usual and they picked up with Doodles and Pie as if it had been last week that they’d seen each other, and not last year. There were a few tussles between Doodles and T Rex–Doodles has this annoying HBS habit of stating–with ABSOLUTE certainty–“facts” that are completely wrong, which upset T Rex to no end. But it all worked out well, and this year, Teener Tuna’s daughter, Billie (remind me why I call her that?), was old enough to peak Pie’s interest. Billie, however, had no interest in my daughter, but that didn’t stop Pie from chasing her, saying, “Billie! Do you want to play baby? Do you want to run? Do you want to dance?” Billie barely had the time to answer the girl.

I guess I’ll have to finish this post later, as my daughter is moaning that she wants to go to sleep (so much good the M&Ms; did) and she wants to sleep on me. So I’m off in that other parental role–mattress–and I’ll be writing you again from Boston… I hope.

Ten… Nine… Eight…

December 31st, 2008 § 1 comment § permalink

The problem with keeping a blog is there’s this feeling of obligation to post something significant on the last day of the year. To do some sort of witty, or at the least, poignant, wrap up of the previous year. To ponder on what the coming year will bring.

You know that’s not going to happen, right? Even if I wasn’t still wrapping presents and getting dressed and trying to wrangle children to get to our New Year’s Eve party, I still wouldn’t have anything to say. Because 2008, as lovely as it was, was just another year in a long line of years (I hope).

The most and the least I can say is that 2008 was the year of Facebook and Twitter for me. Hockey and kindergarten for Doodles. Ballet and potty training for Pie. And Adam–well, he’s still here, so that’s something. We had marathons and house tear downs and a week in Vermont. We had trips to New York and lots of martinis. We turned 40 and 36 and 5 and 3. It was a year. Different from the others. But not so much.

And 2009, well, it’ll be 2009. I’m looking forward to more marathons and a trip to Israel. Moving back to our house. And who knows what else it’ll bring.

Happy New Year everyone. I’ll see you in 2009.

Miami Beach ‘Til Now

December 28th, 2008 § Comments Off on Miami Beach ‘Til Now § permalink

I ask this every year, and here I am asking it again. Last night, coming home from a grown-up’s evening out, I was exhausted. And what walking down Lincoln Road after midnight, there are tons of little kids out. Who are these kids and why are they out partying at these ungodly hours!

We’ve made our annual family pilgrimage to the homeland. Florida. I look forward to this trip all year. I come to Miami Beach for my parents, for my friends, for our annual New Year’s eve party at my cousins’ house. I come because my kids love swimming in the pool and hanging out with their California friends who come to visit (T Rex and Pad). I come because Nana paints Pie’s toenails and builds the kids forts. I come for the spa day at the Standard and the stone crabs and ice cream from the Frieze. I come for the sushi boat from Maiko. I come because my kids love Jungle Island and the Seaquarium and being able to run around naked without freezing their tushes off. I come because it’s home.

And Adam? Adam comes to Miami Beach for the cafe con leches. Not just any cafe con leche, but David’s cafe con leche. And that’s pretty much it. No, really. You think I’m exaggerating? The man is a caffeine addict. And his poison of choice is the cafe con leche. He dreams of the cafe con leche during the long Boston winters. He longs for it on the rare occasions he’s forced to resort to Dunkin Donuts coffee. Cafe con leche is his reason for flying 1500 miles, for putting up with Miami allergies and for putting up with the demand for “just five more minutes in the pool, Daddy!”

So you can imagine his absolute utter and total anguish when we passed David’s on Christmas Day and he saw a sign in the window that said the restaurant was closed until January 5. The moaning! The complaints! The frantic search for comparable (no such thing!) cafe con leche! He said the trip was ruined. He thought my father had let him down by not letting him know about this. He felt betrayed by David’s. Adam saw ten days stretched in front of him with no cafe con leches, no Cuban toast, no perico eggs.

Needless to say, as he discovered this morning, it turns out that my “always certain, often wrong” husband, merely can’t read Spanish. Because the cafe is open, alive, and kicking. It’s just the buffet that’s been closed. A buffet none of us have ever eating at. I figure he’s gotten his divine retribution in the form of three cafe con lecheless days.

Other than the near-miss David’s disaster, it’s been a successful trip so far, except for one aborted run for me. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever stopped a run in the middle, but I wisely decided that I had the choice of finishing my run or finishing my trip, and I opted for the trip. Every year on 12/24, our synagogue hosts a blood drive. I was determined to donate blood this year. I wasn’t going to forget. Absolutely not. And of course I forgot. So I was happy to see on Friday a bloodmobile at the end of Lincoln Road. I popped in, donated blood, and walked back to the apartment.

The next morning I suited up for my 14 miler. Fuel belt. Check. iPod. Check. Cash for coffee after. Check. However, a couple of miles in–halfway across the MacArthur causeway–I realized all was not right with the world. I’d pretty much finished my Gatorade and I was sweating bullets and it wasn’t till that moment that I realized running–especially in Miami heat–when my blood levels were literally low was probably not the brightest thing I ever did. I managed to make my way back to the apartment, completing 7 miles running and a whole bunch walking.

But even with a dehydration headache, I managed brunch at Van Dyke’s, Starbucks (because, you know, David’s is closed, or so I hear), and Lincoln Road playtime. And of course the night out with grown-ups (seriously! Who are those kids?). Dinner at Maiko. Sushi boat! A bellinitini at the rooftop lounge at the Tiffany hotel, with glowing ice cubes. Ice cream on the walk home. Babysitters that didn’t charge $15 an hour. Playtime outside in mid-70 degree weather. Brunch with friends we haven’t seen in ages.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow is nirvana. Tomorrow is spa day with the girls! Our house with no walls is a distant memory. Our tiny cramped bologna-smelling apartment is in another lifetime. Rain and sleet and snow don’t exist.

Welcome to Miami. Now pass the martinis.

Enter Winter

December 21st, 2008 § 2 comments § permalink

It’s been a fun, crazy week, with time in Doodles’ classroom, Adam’s office party, which–surprisingly–was really fun, a Hanukkah singalong at Pie’s school (preschool mosh pit! That girl loves to dance!), a night of cooking class, playdates, and all sorts of holiday prep goodness, including lots of baking, crafting (and I’ve become addicted to craft blogs lately–oh the ideas I have for next year!), and card writing. And then… then it all came to an end. Because…

…the snow has started. No quiet whispers into winter; it came in shouting its presence. Two days before the official beginning, we were pelted with snow. Fierce, fierce snow. Running on Friday morning, the sunrise was amazing, a fiery feast of reds in the sky, but then I remembered “Red skies at night, sailors delight; red skies at morning, sailor’s warning.” True enough in this case. I felt bad for Doodles who had a field trip canceled on Friday. Everyone had early releases in anticipation of the storm. I ran with my kids to the supermarket, along with the rest of the world and stocked up on supplies. Shabbat dinner for Friday. Snacks for Saturday. Milk for hot chocolate. Everything we needed. Everything. Oh, wait, except the toilet paper. I forgot the toilet paper. Oops!

That night the kids couldn’t wait to get out in the snow, so I bundled them up Friday evening to get their snow groove on. Nothing like the first trying on of winter boots to realize that they no longer fit. Doodles is a good size larger than his boot, but we managed to sausage his foot in. That night, we got about eight inches of snow, which would have been fine if that had been it.

Saturday morning I stupidly decided not to do my run, to save it for Sunday. Which meant, obviously, that Sunday was much worse. However, not knowing that, I had a lovely walk with Pie on the bike path so we could walk to Walgreens for toilet paper and new Color Wonder books. I did a bit of snow shoveling to unbury our cars. I got my hair done. Doodles got a new hockey hair cut so his hair no longer hurts his face. And then we stupidly decided–on a snowy day, the last weekend before Christmas–to brave L.L. Bean to get Doodles some new boots. What a freakin’ nightmare. And no boots in his size. So he’s going to have to suffer a bit longer. But overall it was a relaxing day, with all of us watching A Christmas Story (well, not completely relaxing–the bully in the movie terrified the kids). A lovely snow day.

And then there was today. One snow day too many. The snow started up again. And again. And again. Religious school canceled. Sleep didn’t happen last night as the toddler in the next apartment over is sick, and was up every hour from 3:15 till wake up time. I’ve got just over a month till I run Miami with my cousin, and I haven’t gotten enough mileage in. So in the sleet/snow/freezing rain, in the sub-freezing temperatures, a savage wind upon me, on the snow that feels like sand, except where it feels like ice, I managed to run 18 miles (it wasn’t quite uphill both ways, barefoot, but it was close). I’m cold. I’m beat. I’m tired. The kids want to go outside. I throw on a dry shirt. We head outside. Pie, in the hallway, sniffs her nose.

“Mommy, there’s something stinky in here!”

“I don’t smell anything, Pie.”

Pie puts on her biggest grin. “Mommy!” she says. “I think it’s you! You’re stinky!” Way to win points, Pie.

Tonight, the first night of Hanukkah, we went to friends’ for dinner. It was truly lovely, but I was so scared driving there and back. I was as tense as could be. Normally I’m the driver, but these days, it’s all Adam, because I refuse to drive in the snow. Trying to get out of our friends’ driveway at the end of the evening just about did me in, as our wheels spun and our car fishtailed. I just closed my eyes and Adam did a little digging and a little gunning and finally got us out. But, man, does that terrify me.

Part of me is really hoping school isn’t canceled tomorrow as it’s Pie’s last day before the winter break and I’m supposed to go into Doodles’s classroom to make latkes with them, but part of me is terrified to go out there–it’s supposed to turn to rain soon, which means it’ll be a sheet of ice out there–so part of me hopes it’s canceled so we can stay inside the entire day. Hey, the kids got some presents tonight–they’ve got stuff to play with. And I’m not above a day of PBS Sprout, if that’s what’s called for.

Meanwhile, as hard as it is to imagine, I’m supposed to go to our storage this week to pull out our summer clothes for our annual pilgrimage to Miami. I can’t fathom being ready. I can’t fathom getting our car out of here. I can’t fathom ever being out of this tiny apartment and back in our house (although we’re giving our 60 day notice on the apartment this week). I can’t fathom a place that isn’t buried in snow. I can’t fathom that we’ve been here since it was shorts weather. I can’t fathom. Period. I’m going to bury myself in bed. Maybe tomorrow I’ll wake up with a fresh dose of fathom.

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  • Who I Am

    I read, I write, I occasionally look to make sure my kids aren't playing with matches.

    My novel, MODERN GIRLS will be coming out from NAL in the spring of 2016.

    I mostly update the writing blog these days, so find me over there.

    More about me and my writing.

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    jenny at jennyandadam.com


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  • Who I Am

    I read, I write, I occasionally look to make sure my kids aren't playing with matches.

    My novel, MODERN GIRLS will be coming out from NAL in the spring of 2016.

    I mostly update the writing blog these days, so find me over there.

    More about me and my writing.

  • Where to Find Me

    jenny at jennyandadam.com


    Instagram

    Follow Me on Pinterest

    Goodreads

    Writing Blog: Jennifer S. Brown

    Photo Blog: jPhone Jenny

  • Meta