Saturday, September 27, 2008

What's the Difference Between a Soccer Mom and a Gross Smelly Person Who Hasn't Even Brushed Her Teeth?

Not much.

William is playing soccer this year and his enthusiasm for the sport is underwhelming.

Soccer practice rolls around on Thursday nights and Andy and I look at each other and say, "Crap! We have soccer practice?" Because William could really care less. So it really doesn't cross his mind.

Then Saturday mornings when we've barely rolled out of bed after a night of musical beds like we had last night, and Andy's planning on spending the day in the yard and I have a million errands to run, we look at each other over breakfast and say, "Crap! We have a soccer game this morning???" Then, like this morning, we realize we're already late so after getting everyone else ready, I am forced to choose between getting my pants on or brushing my teeth. I opted for pants.


It's not that we're not happy William is playing. We were actually really excited about it. But after the first practice, William announced that he'd rather be swimming. So he spends most every practice and every game just sort of fluttering around the field, making fish faces and trying to ignore us yelling to him, "The ball, William! The ball! Kick the ball!" Sheesh.

I'm thinking this time next year we'll be going to swim meets. Michael Phelps is probably making more money than David Beckham anyway. Wouldn't ya think?

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Role Reversal

So yesterday I went to a management meeting at the Grand Hotel that included lunch, meetings all afternoon, and dinner. Since our nanny doesn't start until Monday, Andy picked the kids up at school, stayed home with them all afternoon and enjoyed a gourmet meal of chicken nuggets, tater tots and applesauce. I had grilled tuna, lightly seared with a pineapple/mango salsa served over a rice pilaf and seasonal vegetables. And bread pudding with whiskey sauce for dessert. But I digress.

Usually it's been me at home, answering the phone with screaming hungry children clawing and hanging off of me, when Andy calls to "check in" on his way to a business dinner at some upscale steakhouse. Yesterday I called about 5:00 to check in and when I couldn't hear him over all the screaming and carrying on, I sadly had to run and said I'd see him later. When I came home after dinner, ex-hausted from a grueling day of sitting in a chair listening to grown ups talk while I was served Dove chocolates and Diet Coke, I just had to kick my shoes off and plop down in the recliner to watch some football. I asked Andy what he'd been doing all day because it didn't look like much to me. (note: I'm truly embellishing here for creativity's sake because I have to say the house was spotless, kids were in bed and all was calm...I was QUITE impressed).

But oh how I missed my babies! I quickly changed clothes and crawled in bed with each of them just to snuggle and get some good sugar that I'd missed all day. Yesterday was really just a trial run. I don't officially start my job until Monday.

Funny thing about that meeting. See, I've been HOME for more than three years. Truly, other than Law and Order and a few re-runs of Legally Blonde, I've not been too immersed in the legal world. And I haven't been in the banking world since I was a teller one summer during college, circa nineteen-ninety-something. So as I sat there listening to all these banking officers talk, what I mostly heard was "blah blah blah blah money" and "blah blah blah loans" and "blah blah accounts". Basically, there was just a smattering of words that I recognized. Mostly from having cashed a few checks and made a few deposits myself at my local bank through the years. I have a lot to learn.

But at one point someone turned to me as I was zoning out and asked me what I thought about it. (meaning, whatever blah blah blah they'd just been discussing). I froze in fear that I was about to answer something like, "Well, um, the way I see it, I can make an analogy to the time that Dora had eight books to return to the library, but Swiper the Fox stole two of them, so she only had six left. But thanks to Map showing her the way across Tall Mountain, she and Boots the Monkey were able to get them back and she turned all eight of them in!"

Instead, I tried to toss out some legal terminology (in LATIN) that would make me sound like I actually still have a few working brain cells. So I said something like, "Um, the uh, habeas corpus of the stare decisis is very pro hac vice to me. So, um, I don't really object, your honor."

They were really impressed, I think. So far I haven't gotten a call from them saying "uh, thanks but no thanks. That will be all." So I guess we're still on for Monday!

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Miss Me?

Both of my faithful readers apparently have so I'm back!  Back from vacation (boo hiss) but I have lots of news and lots of pictures to post.

First, the news.  I'm going back to work.  Well let me qualify that.  I'm going to a paying job.  Which means that my legal career has been resurrected (sort of).  Rescued from the sewer.  Resuscitated.  Revived.  Those who knew me in law school and recall my utter disdain for tax law, secured transactions and decedents wills & estates will find it most ironic and quite humorous that I'm going to work as a trust officer at a bank.  But here's the best part...NO billable hours!  Bankers' hours and bankers' holidays.  My office will be just down the street from the house so when the nanny finds herself in the midst of a poo emergency (as is sure to be the case), I can (thanks to caller ID) ignore the call for help and wait to come home when the air clears.  What a change this is going to be for us all!

So this is why I've been silent the past couple of weeks.  Well actually we ended spending 10 days at the beach, which was fabulous.  But upon returning from vacation (boo hiss) I started interviewing nannies.  That's a whole other post altogether.  But for now I'll just say that everything has come together nicely.  I've brushed the dust off the few work clothes I have that still fit, thrown out the others that had shoulder pads and went out with the Clinton administration, and bought a few new things.  My yoga pants and law school t-shirts aren't going to get as much wear in the coming days for sure.

I still plan to blog.  But maybe not as faithfully as when I was depending on my blogging income to pay the bills.  (and by the way I've almost hit the $25 threshold to get a payout from those ads so I'm going to try not to spend it all in one place). The best thing to do is put my blog in your google reader and then you'll be alerted when I have breaking news.  In the are some highlights from the beach trip from which we returned last Sunday (boo hiss).

No worries.



Nothing like soggy cheezits floating around the pool.  Better than soggy Baby Ruths.



The little one is Sybil in disguise.


William celebrated his 5th birthday while we were there.


One of his best little friends drove over from Fairhope to spend the day with us and celebrate.  (well actually his Mom drove him since his feet don't quite touch the pedals).


Catherine was terrified of the slide until she finally became brave in her Daddy's arms.



Breakfast at one of our favorite places, Tacky Jack's, the morning before Ike hit.  Winds were already gusting at about 45-50 mph and the lower floor was flooded.   Needless to say we dined upstairs.



Surf was UP.


Too windy to play outside, we stayed indoors and let Catherine play in my makeup.  She looks a bit like Baby Jane.



Nightmarish attempt to take pictures of the three on the beach at sunset.  I'd rather have been horsewhipped.



Friday, September 05, 2008


I'm going crazy. We're supposed to leave in a few hours to go to the beach. I've not packed a SINGLE thing except for MY bag. Maybe somewhere deep in my psyche I'm dreaming of a solo vacation?

Usually by this time I've made lists....laid out clothes....put open bags in every room to pile stuff upon stuff in them that we'll never even use. But not this time. Seriously. We are supposed to leave in less than 4 hours. It's not that I haven't tried. It's just that packing for a "vacation" with three preschoolers is truly an exercise in futility. And I keep asking myself...why? Why?

I take two steps forward and three back so...basically...I'm making NO progress. I get out a bag to pack and Stuart puts it on his head. I sit out a couple of outfits and Stuart hauls them off and stuffs them in the warming drawer under the oven. I start trying to pack up bathroom stuff while Stuart and Catherine are bathing last night and Stuart poops in the tub. Talk about being derailed. As I scooped, scrubbed and bleached and said over and over "I'm about to barf," I then spent the next hour listening to Catherine say "What's barf, Mommy?" Took me about another hour to explain and at that point I was exhausted and just went to bed.

I really can't waste anymore time blogging. Just wanted to say that if I can manage to throw everyone in a swimsuit and a pair of underwear, we're off in a few hours. The only thing that's giving me even a tiny smidgen of hope that I might have a small semblance of a vacation is the fact that grandparents are going with us. Backup. Reinforcements. More of us than them.

I'm going to dream big and take a book to read. Without pictures.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

Beware of Dog

"You know what the difference is between a hockey mom and a pit bull?"


I love it.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

Oh Really?

William keeps us enlightened. For instance....I just overheard him explaining an important concept to Catherine over lunch. " need to understand. Copying someone means that if they say yes, and then you say yes, you're copying."

Catherine sat there a minute or two and then softly said, "oh."

A few minutes later she looked over at him eating his sandwich just like she was doing and announced, "Weeyum, you're copying me."

He rolled his eyes. "You just don't get it," he said.

Welcome to my world, little buddy.

Next he explained the quiet game to her. And I just happened to be at the computer working on the above entry when he started talking, so I typed this verbatim. "You have to be quiet. Then I will count to ten and if you haven't been quiet, you lose. This is how you play. If I count to one and if you, um, haven't talked you get to ride on my horsey and if I count to zero and if you have talked, you don't get to ride on my horsey."

No wonder she throws such inconsolable tantrums on a bi-hourly basis.