Thanks for nothing Edgar

Back in 2013 I wrote a post about how our landscaper killed my one living breathing plant.

It’s 2015 and my little plant is finally back. Check out the old post below for the story.

It took 2 years to recover. It’s the longest grudge I’ve ever held. Against a landscaper.

mo’ marriage mo’ problems | wifemothereventplanner
http://wifemothereventplanner.com/2013/08/10/mo-marriage-mo-problems/

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I’m like a pillow

Atleast that’s what my son told me last week. His exact words were,” Mom, I love leaning on you. You have no bones. You’re like a pillow.”
My daughter and husband busted out laughing. I cried I think.
But he’s right. I am soft. And not just in the thighs.
I’m a scaredy cat. A wimp. A chicken. Basically I’m yella.
Forget coasters and fast rides, I don’t even like fast escalators.
This weekend we are heading to see family and we got an email saying there will be mopeds for us to use. As if. Mopeds. I’ll have to come up with a decent excuse to steer clear.
Sometimes when I’m on my way to work on the subway, I try and not hold on to something. To just balance. Inevitably I fold and grab the bars. And if there’s a seat. I sit. I’ll always sit.
I didn’t get the adventure gene. The thrill gene. I didn’t even get the kinda exciting gene. I’m not going to go speeding down a snowy mountain or diving in deep blue waters. Nope. I’ll be the one waiting for you when you’re done. Probably with a snack. Because you know what, I like to be cozy. And safe. And out of harms way. Anything wrong with that? Ok, as you were!

Mr. Brightside

Oh hello. Happy Friday.
Here are some things that drive me crazy:
– Top 10 lists. Everything is a top 10 list. Top 10 ways your baby is in danger. Top 10 reasons why coconut oil is the messiah. You get the point. If not I can give you the top 10 reasons why I can’t stand those lists. I don’t know about you but I’ll be reading long, continuous paragraphs (after I write this short, broken blog).
– Hacks. Isn’t a hack someone who doesn’t know what they are doing? An amateur? Now the word means the quick, easy way to do something. Can we just do stuff the long, hard, right way please?
– YouTube videos with moms wearing Lululemon and singing clever songs about their kids. Actually I’m just jealous, so never mind that one.

Whenever I get really annoyed or angry about something I take a moment to talk to my son.
He can usually be found outside. Jumping on something. Hopping on something. Diving on something. Always moving. Always happy. When he does get mad or angry or sad- you just feed him, and he’s back! Simple. Uncomplicated. Happiness.
It’s enough to send me into a fit of happy tears.

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I had onions for lunch

Now you know. I didn’t have JUST onions but I thought it was important to tell you that they were a big part of that particular meal.

If I was alone in the world I would have onions for lunch every day. And for dinner. I could even squeeze them into breakfast. Actually I could more than squeeze them in. Have you ever had a plain bagel with scallion cream cheese, tomato and red onion? Or an omelette that’s so full of onions and peppers that you can’t really see the egg?

I’m in the office today and the rest of my team is either off or working from home. In fact the entire floor is pretty vacant so I thought I was safe. I’ve been trying to have salads at least once a day and nothing makes a salad better than…yep.

Alone in the office. No in-person meetings. The next human I’ll see today will be at 6:30pm. Hours after consumption. I had no choice. The stars were aligned.

It’s been a tough couple of weeks. An insane work schedule mixed with the usual family obligations mixed with unexpected health scares (my mom – who is recovering like a champ). Can you blame me for letting off some steam? Going a little crazy? Letting my hair down? Sure I could have turned to alcohol and drugs – I still may – but for now, this will do.

Anyway – I gotta go brush my teeth and eat a pack of mints.

Mother of the Year?

It’s been a very busy few weeks. There’s so much stuff to catch-up on with you.

Let’s start with…Bruce Jenner. What can I say. She’s a keeper.

And there are tons of other fun TV moments. Mad Men is two shows away from ending. How will I justify my Sunday night Bourbon drinking now? And Game of Thrones. I could geek out for hours talking about that – and The Walking Dead.

I could tell you about my husband’s unnatural obsession with fixing the grass in our front yard. How he’s been a little Amityville Horror about it. Watering it. Staring at it. Loving it. Is it possible to be jealous of grass?

But there’s been sad stuff too. The earthquake in Nepal. The shootings around the country and riots that followed. All very sad.

Although I have to say something about a video that is going viral. You know the one. Mom in yellow finds out her 16-year-old son is a part of the riot and starts berating, hitting him etc. She’s being called,”The Mother of the Year”.

She’s smacking his face, swearing at him, pushing him. I know she’s mad. I know what he’s doing is utterly wrong. He’s wrong. She’s right to be mad. I get it. But I get really sad watching that video. I start thinking about all the other times he’s gotten hit, kicked, and pushed.

There’s a reason these kids are acting out. They’ve been put down, beat-up, called names, pushed around, hit, and bullied. And not just by the police.

Mother of the Year? Not so sure. Take a look.

Hotel beds

I landed in Puerto Rico last night for our week long event. As with every travel trip – I unpack, put my bags away and try and settle in for the week.
And when we aren’t working – we’re sleeping.
And because I’m a creature of habit, this is what my bed looks like all week.
I could spread out. I could sleep in the middle. But I don’t. I sleep on my side like a robot.

Thought you’d like to know!

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Happy New Year! I’m talking to you Chinese people….

I thought I’d share my favorite non-PC story involving my favorite Chinese friend in honor of today. I’m sure she won’t mind. If you are offended easily or think this is insensitive – please stop reading now. I totally understand. I once wrote a note to the New York Times condemning an Indian Cultural Day they had in Central Park called “Curry in the Park”. I was outraged that they would define all of the beauty that is the Indian culture and reduce it to a seasoning used in the food.  How dare they! They wrote back that it was, in fact, a showcase of Indian food. Oh. Anyway – I get it. Racism is terrible. But sometimes….it’s funny. On to my story.

Let me set the scene.

I worked in a very serious, very conservative private bank in New York City. This was the defining job of my career. All my biggest successes and f’ups happened here. It’s also where I learned the type of team that I wanted to be in (and lead eventually). We were hardworking, sarcastic, funny and silly. If you made a mistake in our team, you wouldn’t be walked through how to do it better – you would be teased and laughed at. There was no training or “on-boarding”. You just worked like hell to figure things out while the rest of the team rolled their eyes. It sounds rough. But it was amazing. You developed all the skills you needed to be a good planner – including the king of all skills – thick skin.

We were also quite a mixed bag. Cold, stylish leader without a heart? Check. Smart, creative Chinese gal who bordered on being mean? Check! Rich, Hermes wearing Euro daughter of a client? Put together, chic New Yorker with an accent? Check and check! And me, a married Indian gal with a baby in her late 20’s. Let’s just say we didn’t blend into a crowd.

Sorry about all the back story but you need to know this in order to really appreciate the situation. So because we dealt with billionaires and people who managed billionaires, the atmosphere in the office was always quiet and well-heeled. Except in our area. We were always laughing and shouting and eating. A mark of most good event groups. We also kept to ourselves most of the time – not that anyone was knocking down our door to be included.

Then, one fateful holiday season – it happened. Our guard was down. We were invited to join the secret Santa gift exchange on our floor. We decided to do it. We even decided to go to the party for the gift exchange. All of us. Except the head of the group who spent December in Prague or something. We were going to assimilate! At least for that hour.

We all shuffled into the conference room and pretended to be excited. One by one we opened our gifts. Oh look, the strange dude in graphics got me a cookbook. How nice. The lady in accounting got someone a candle. Charming. You get the point.

Then. Our Chinese gal opened the first of 2 gifts from her secret Santa. Hmmm. Geisha stickers. She smiled. We stared. We started to feel the corners of our mouth convulsing – we looked at the floor. We looked at the ceiling. We looked anywhere to avoid eye contact with her. We prayed the next gift wouldn’t be ethnic specific. We were wrong. She opened a box of Chinese rubber stamps. Ok – at least this was the right bucket of stereotyped gift. (You say Chinese, I say Japanese…) There was no ill intent. The person meant no harm. But we were all dying. Literally bursting at the seams laughing. We never participated in a gift exchange again. True story.

I know what you’re thinking. How awful – that person should have been reprimanded. Oh no. You didn’t go to HR for this stuff. You thanked the Gods that this happened so you could hold it over your co-worker’s head! That’s how we rolled.

For months after we talked, relived, re-enacted the moment. It was like a Christmas miracle to our team. It’s been 14 years or so since that day, and it still brings me joy.

Here’s to the year of the goat!

(Please note that the Chinese gal and I remain the closest of friends and she had to help me remember some details. I remembered the gift giver as a boy, it was a girl. I remembered 3 gifts. It was only 2. Thank god for her. Chinese people. They’re good to have around)

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