Monday Monday

School starts on Wednesday for my boy and his pals. That went fast. 5th grade. Wow. I’m thinking about his homework, his reading, his math. I’m worried about how he will do with new friends, a new teacher, more work. I’m worried. About everything.
Here’s what he’s doing. So I’ll calm down now.

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0.0

A few months ago I got a Fit Bit. I was so excited! And then I wasn’t. It’s been collecting dust in a drawer ever since. Well not no more!
After a fun summer of eating, drinking, beaching and overall gluttony – I’m done. For the love of God and my zippers, I’m done.
I’m putting it out there so I can’t back out. From now on, my Fit Bit and I are attached to the hip. Or the wrist. She goes where I go! I’ve assigned her a gender and have already started talking to her. That’s what you do right?
So here I am at the beginning.
0 steps.
0 calories burned.
0 everything.
I’ve got nowhere to go but up. I mean down.
Wish me luck.

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Rain on my parade. Please

I love a good rainy Saturday. Practice or game cancelled? Fantastic. Can’t go to the outdoor BBQ? Sweet. Have to stay home all day? Sign me up.
We can be productive tomorrow. Today is for watching HGTV and doing nothing to the house. It’s for napping so hard that you’re tired when you wake up. Or for giving into your newly found obsession for Instagram. Excuse me while I go look at every picture Rob Lowe ever posted.
Happy Saturday everybody!

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Why so mad?

A lot of people are getting pissed off about the ALS challenge.
What up with that?
I know I know. People are doing it for other reasons, they are missing the point. But are they? My 10 year old knows what ALS is. That can’t be bad. It’s silly and goofy. And it’s become a game for celebs to see who can do a better one. But so what? I’d rather see that then butt selfies. Butt selfies are all the rage.
Also – why do people get so pissy so fast?
Here’s what I know. I know that I’d rather see your aunt/husband/brother being doused with water for a cause than a news story about ISIS. Or Ferguson. Yes those things are happening. Yes those things are evil incarnate. And yes I read about them. But afterwards, I need something else. To function, to wake up tomorrow and know that this world is ok for my kids, I need something else. I need to see ice water dumped on Anna Wintour or George Bush. On a side note – I love Retired George Bush. He’s so warm and kind and…not dumb. I may have even voted for Retired George Bush. Maybe.
Anyway. Dump the f’ing water. Donate to ALS. Cool down and lighten up.
Here’s me and my crew doing it.

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“Not My Circus, Not My Monkeys”

A very smart woman told me about that saying. It sums up what I’m thinking many times during a work week, a chat with a friend, or a chat with my family. And then I remember that some of those people are my monkeys. And it is my f’ing circus. And then I’m exhausted.
But most of the time, I wish I could print it on cards and hand it out to people. And smile. And then walk away.
I gift this nugget to you.
You’re welcome.

No ask too many questions!

Years ago, when a large part of my job involved literally making invites ( or melting hot wax in a spoon at midnight in the corporate cafeteria to seal those invites- true story) we would scour NYC for the best of everything. We knew the really good paper houses. We knew which store had the perfect envelopes. We knew where to get great flowers and even prettier vases. We spent hours on font styles and spacing. Hours. But that’s what happy insane planners in their twenties do. Right? I’m sure the Millennials are confused. Oh you of Etsy luxury. You have no idea what it means to be really grass roots. Or maybe you do. I dunno. I’m just a middle-aged Gen Xer trying to get by.
Wait, what was I talking about?
It was so nice in the city today that I walked to a further train station than usual and passed a small, stationary shop. It reminded me of the shops we would haunt and hunt in. My favorite of these oldies was a ribbon store on 28th Street or 29th street. That’s right people. A ribbon shop. Imagine a world without Michaels or AC Moore. Before The Knot or even Martha Stewart Magazine. There was/is a little shop devoted to ribbons. You can look for hours for ribbons for weddings, for gifts, for your hair – whatever you want. What you can’t do is “ask too many questions”. All along the walls are small, but clear signs,” no ask too many questions”.
To this day if one of my kids is badgering me, or if my husband is interrogating my trip to the store – this is what I think in my head. NO ASK TOO MANY QUESTIONS!

The Dinner Bell

Sometimes nothing makes me happier than some hummus. And some pretzel chips. Do you know about pretzel chips? I was just introduced to them. It was love at first bite. Sorry. Hope your dinner made you this happy.

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