Did I mention I like wine?
A few years ago this was a regular sized vase that sat on my kitchen counter.
Now it’s art. Yup. Art.
Not a raging addiction. Nope. It’s not that at all.
This past weekend when we had our friends and family over, someone casually asked if I’d gotten the corks at Home Goods. They sell them you know. Huh.
Did not know that.
I laughed nervously and redirected the conversation.
Another party goer suggested a craft I could do with them.
I laughed nervously and redirected the conversation.
I get a lot of slack for this…collection.
Every Easter there’s an aunt that includes it in her prayers, as in, “please God don’t let it fill up anymore.”
The way I look at it, it’s only half full.
I’m a wine optimist.
09 May 2013 6 Comments
Did I mention I like wine?
08 May 2013 2 Comments
25 Apr 2013 2 Comments
Today was a Day.
Ever had one of those?
And almost every agitating thing that happened was my fault.
Not one other person to blame. Trust me, I tried to find someone, anyone. Nothing. It’s all me.
I hate that.
My girlfriend said that Mars is in Aries. And I’m a Gemini. So I’m dysfunctional on a good day. Throw in Aries and it’s a hurricane. So why does Mars making a pit stop in Aries cause such havoc? Because it means we’re much more likely to take risks. Live without guard rails. In general be a little nutty and go off the deep end.
Well people. I’m off the deep end. Can I blame Mars? Or Aries? Or Kit Kat? Sorry.
I’ll spare you the gory details. I didn’t kill anyone and I’m not selling crack to babies. But boy were there doozies today! F’ups. Miscalculations. Gaps in judgement. Ok, massive craters in judgement.
Sorry to be so pissy. Please go read a trashy online magazine to shake this blog off. Or don’t. Who am I to give any advice today. Good night.
(i was going to find a YouTube video to end the post on a positive - the one with the dancing babies for Evian – have you seen it? I’m not an Evian fan – I think it’s oily and has an aftertaste – but the commercial is funny. Anyway I decided not to find/cut/attach the clip. See. I’m a nightmare today.)
24 Apr 2013 4 Comments
in I need to tell you about this right now Tags: Alergy, Bike Riding, children, Creek, Family, freedom and independence, health, humor, Kids, Life, mental-health, parenting, Park, Photography, Picnic, transportation, Water
This is a state park near us. We go to walk, to picnic, to lay about – actually that’s what I go for.
My family goes there to bike.
I think I’ve told you before. Haven’t I? It’s no biggie. Everyone has something. Some people can’t eat a peanut. Some can’t have dairy (the horror). Some are diabetic. I too have a debilitating challenge. I can’t ride a bike. Well, technically I may be able to actually ride a bike without killing myself, but I really really don’t want to.
My family tried to have an intervention a couple of years ago. They were horrified for me. My husband lived on his bike throughout his childhood. Both my kids adore their bikes. They gave me a long list of reasons why I’d love it. The freedom! The independence! So I finally caved in and they bought me a fancy bike. Took me out every night to practice. And I tried. I acted excited. I seemed enthused. It was awful.
I don’t like riding a bike. It makes me nervous. It makes me feel out of control. It gives me zero happiness. Freedom and independence are not for me. Sorry.
This causes great sadness in my family. I’m like a traitor among them. An alien. They’ll never be able to ride like a full family.
They’ll get over it.
13 Apr 2013 4 Comments
Hi. My name is wifemothereventplanner. And it’s been 7 days since I’ve written a post.
I’ve been distracted. Diverted. Absorbed. Engrossed.
Every minute that I’m not working or mothering or wife’ing has gone to one thing. One singular obsession (different from all my other obsessions).
I blame Netflix. I blame my sister-in-law and all my gal pals for pushing the show like crack. I blame all the articles I’ve been trying to ignore about how great the show is. I thought I could ignore it. After all – I’m the only girl in the Northern Hemisphere who still hasn’t watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. My idea of McDreamy is Don Draper or Walter White (name those shows).
A few weeks ago I found myself with an entire Sunday afternoon with nothing to clean, cook or buy and in a half trance I did it. I started the series. Episode after episode, I binged. Hard.
Ok. Everyone was right. It’s delicious. Just enough story line to keep up with the bedroom shots. It’s really fun. All the women on the show are written quirky and smart and perfectly balanced between batshit crazy and funny – just how I like it. A powerful black woman sleeping with the President while legally and illegally protecting her client’s reputations? Sign me up.
Watching a whole series at once is something I usually do with my husband – but I convinced him that this show wouldn’t be his thing. He should just leave me alone to watch the whole thing. Now.
I’m all caught up on Season 1 but it isn’t enough. I may have to buy Season 2, even though it’ll eventually air for free – but that would mean waiting. WAITING. Seriously? That’s for the birds. I need my fix now.
Like any good junkie, I’ll keep trying to act normal and pretend I’m not thinking about Olivia Pope or the hot President or how wickedly good the First Lady is. I’ll just go on with my day. Like a normal person. Nothing to see here folks. Just killing time until my next hit.
04 Apr 2013 Leave a Comment
We took a quick trip to DC after Easter – literally. As in we cleaned up, packed leftovers, said goodbye to our family and hit the road.
My husband and I have both been to DC often, but just for work. From train to conference room to train. This was an all out tourist trip.
We landed in the capital at the stroke of 11pm. After miles and miles and miles of traffic, here’s what we saw heading into our hotel. Pretty friggin cool.
For the next two days we traveled by trolley, monument to monument, museum to museum.
It was cherry blossom festival time but a late snow meant no blooming trees (actually there were a couple but we couldn’t see them with all the Japanese tourists surrounding them. True story).
This is Julia Child’s kitchen. Recreated spoon by spoon at the Smithsonian. This was my favorite monument in all of DC. Cluttered. Utilitarian. Completely unMartha. It was awesome.
Thanks Easter bunny.
30 Mar 2013 Leave a Comment
This is Pulaski’s meat market. Every year I trek there for kielbasa, ham, pierogies, etc. for our mix and match Easter. North American Catholic traditions, check! Eastern European homage to pork, check!
I wait my turn with old school Polish, Ukrainian, Czech couples. One of these things is not like the other. And that thing is me people.
I get my number and start the wait. I’m #93. They are on #18.
No, you can’t wander about the market while your number is called. There’s no side shopping while you wait. This is like the soup nazi for meat. Wait your turn. Know what you want. Do not hesitate.
But I’m not scared. This isn’t my first polka. I may look completely and utterly out of place. But I know exactly what to order.
2 1/2 hours later. Success.
It’s not Easter until my Subaru smells like kielbasa.
20 Mar 2013 3 Comments
This is my boy and his all time favorite teacher – Mrs. Jones.
A second after 3rd grade started, the teacher he was supposed to have all year had a baby and Mrs. Jones stepped in. She immediately turned the room into an interactive, dynamic place – new rugs, new wall coverings, new everything. It wasn’t just room B-6, it was Hollywood. All the “kiddos”, as she called them, were mini directors in their own productions. The room was covered in colorful, themed imagery. She was animated and sweet and my boy (and the whole class) loved it.
As the year went on and we all got to know Mrs. Jones, it was clear how much she loved teaching and how much she loved our kids. Yes, all the usual teaching stuff happened. They learned, they read, they wrote. But her class was more than that – it was fun. It was silly. It was over the top. And it was exactly what those little people needed. I’ve never had a teacher send me daily updates (sometimes more!) or pictures of fun things the class did that day. We even got Sunday reminders of what the week ahead would look like. I don’t know about you, but I try very hard to forget where I work from Friday night to Sunday night, not her. It was obvious that this wasn’t a burden for her.
This past week we got a letter from the school that our original teacher (who I’m sure is a wonderful person) is coming back for the last two months of school.
9 year olds crying everywhere.
I still remember my favorite elementary school teacher, Mr. Walter Freeman. 4th Grade. He ate oranges at his desk every morning. When you went up to talk to him, he had a citrus halo around him. Is it weird that almost all my good memories have food related connections? Anyway. He was dreamy.
Teaching is a calling. You need some sort of superpower to be able to walk into those classrooms every day and actually enjoy being there.
So good luck to you Mrs. Jones – there’s a lucky class out there waiting for your cheery voice. Thanks for making a really good memory for my boy.