A happy day, indeed
Arrr! It's me favorite day, mateys! Ye best be laying in a supply of grog fer tonight, or it's Über die Planke schicken fer ye.
Musings about being a MOM. Working. Being a working MOM. Sleep. And other stuff.
Arrr! It's me favorite day, mateys! Ye best be laying in a supply of grog fer tonight, or it's Über die Planke schicken fer ye.
I know, I know. I've been a bad little blogger. But I have now simplified my life by resigning from a group blog so I can focus on this, on the addition to our house that is proceeding at glacial speed, on training for the marathon, on new responsibilities at work, and...oh yeah...on a four-year-old that seems to occupy just about every waking moment.
It came to me as we were heading out to work on a bright but somewhat foggy morning. We saw three guys walking towards us in the street with four dogs in tow:
Tonight, we went out for our usual Friday night restaurant outing. It was a nice day, so we decided to go to a local Irish pub and sit outside on the patio. About halfway through our meal, our daughter - out of the blue - asked us: "What does BYOB spell?"
There are certain things in this world that I didn't understand before I had kids. Child leashes, for one (not that I would ever put DOM on one, but I sure as heck understand the sentiment now). Scrapbooking. And, as a person who dabbles in both environmental and urban design issues, I really did not approve of drive through windows. They take people off the street (a detriment to the vitality of a city) and contribute to more polluting vehicle exhaust emissions. However, since DOM has come into my life, I've found myself growing irrationally fond of the drive through ATM near our house, pay-at-the-pump gas stations, and drive through coffee shops. Because if you are just trying to make a quick stop to get some money, fill up the car with gas, pick up your dry cleaning, or grab a quick iced grande vanilla skim latte, the very last thing you want to do is park, unbuckle your child from her car seat, coax her out of the car, complete your five-minute errand, coax the child back into her seat, rebuckle the belts, and collapse exhausted into the driver seat after a two-minute errand has turned into a 30-minute stop complete with two meltdowns and a running "don't touch that" commentary track.
I have been a huge fan of Erma Bombeck ever since I was a teenager. How unhip is that? But I'm a sucker for humor in all its forms, and she was laugh-out-loud funny on so many levels. However, now that I'm a mom, I find myself not only appreciating her writing on a whole new level, but also recalling bits and pieces in the course of each day. For example, when I drive past a cemetary near our house, I remember her talking about finding a house with the perfect neighbors -- but that there aren't too many houses between two cemetaries.
At the risk of this turning into a Bill Cosby-esque "Kids Say the Darndest Things" post, I had to share the following transcript from a conversation this morning: