Werk

We had a very fancy event in Palm Beach. Went to beautiful places where even the dogs don’t drink tap water. A place where crazy sports cars are the norm and your morning workout is literally on the ocean. 



But there are other pics that tell another story… like this one. We were playing,”how many boxes can we fit into a sedan with 4 people and a driver?” The answer – all of them.


How about the fact that the majority of time at this fancy place we were in the back. This is my fav pic. Taken by one of the planners on our team. Thanks for the memory Patty.

Or this one which really is how we all feel onsite (girls don’t worry about how you look in this pic. No one reads this blog anyway).

Lots of memories for sure. 

Like when I tried to get a pic of Barron Trump playing soccer with the secret service and was kindly asked by another secret service dude to stop and delete all pics (I followed half his direction).


Or how about our Orthodox chef trying to take a fully blown-up pool flamingo back on the airport shuttle. I don’t know the end of that story.


Or our last night at the event by the ocean when almost every single person was singing and laughing and smiling – including our team. 

This was the view I had all last week


This is my view today. Guess which one I love more? Home is where the heart is. It’s also where my bed, tv and magazines are.


And this guy. 

Signs that I’m growing as a person?

It’s Girl Scout cookie time. 

Talk about a cause that we can all rally behind. 

For years I’ve been a devoted follower/subscriber/supporter. This year was no different. Except for one thing.

My usual lean on Thin Mints has diminished a bit. All of sudden I’ve become a bigger fan of Lemonades. 


It’s shocking. Lemon? Over Chocolate? Could this mean tarts over cake? Pepsi over Coke? Just kidding, I actually can’t tell the difference between Coke and Pepsi. I’m a monster. 



I’m also a judger. I’ve always silently but wholeheartedly believed that people who choose lemon dessert over chocolate are somehow…suspicious… up to no good. Or they were Grandmas. Let’s face it – there is a correlation between age and lemon love. There just is. 

So what happened to me? I’m still youngish and kind of full of vigor. I dunno! I can’t explain it. I’m just all about the lemon now.

Maybe it was Beyonce’s last album. Or me finally breaking down my bias and reaching across to the aisle to better understand my fellow humans.

A chocolate fan is not better than a lemon  fan. Lemon lives matter! 

Whatever. Atleast I’m still better then the peanut butter cookie fan. What a freak.

Christmas past and present and presents and presence

I get a little weepy about things on Christmas morning. Weepy in a good way. Actually I get weepy all the time. There’s an oatmeal commercial that brings me to tears. An oatmeal commercial. True story (and off you goooo…) but I digress. 

With an 18 and a 13 year old it’s not exactly the magic of Santa that I’m trying to keep alive – even though their presents don’t show up under the tree until the night before – it’s the magic of all of us being together doing the same things, creating our family stories. Going into NYC on Christmas Eve to be with family, driving back at midnight, waiting a little bit and then sneaking all the gifts down. Waking up on Christmas Day, opening the gifts, going out for Chinese food and then a movie. This year we added to that day and had the best Christmas dinner with friends (onion pie, lasagna and dessert!). I wish I could slomo the day. Or have it on repeat like A Christmas Story on TBS. It’s 11:18 and I don’t want it to be over yet. 

It all goes by too fast, Ferris Beuller was right. I’m trying very hard to stop and look around. But all I see are babies getting big…so I’m just gonna go right back and live in the past for a bit. Just for a second. It’s my gift to myself. 
I hope you all had a very merry weepy holiday too. 









It’s begining to look a lot like I’m late decorating for Christmas.

Are you still eating Thanksgiving leftovers? Are you still in a turkey coma? I hope everyone had a good holiday. Here’s a couple of pics of the last of our turkey which went into some pies. Our pot pies are one crust only – which caused a lot of controversy in our house at first. No bottom crust? Crazy. But now everyone’s in line.

img_1460img_1467I know it’s December, and I know everyone has moved onto lights and trees and stockings hung by the chimney with care – but I’m a little behind. The leaves are still falling in our neighborhood and my dead mums are still by the front door. And guess what – I don’t really care. The plaque on the door still says Gobble Gobble and my mantle is still living in the past too.

This weekend is it. I’m on it. I need to make the move. The switch. Goodbye rotting, half eaten pumpkins! Hello Christmas. Can’t wait! Well, I mean, I can wait just a little.  I’m not doing it today. I’ll do it tomorrow. When I say weekend I mean Saturday. Sunday tops.

This cab smells like bad breath

I stayed in midtown Manhattan last night for work. Walking distance from Penn Station. This morning, instead of walking a block over to take the speedy subway back down to work – I decided to take a cab (Joe, I hear you calling me lazy). 

I decided that if there wasn’t a taxi around right away – I’d move on to the train. But boom. I walked out and he was there. Waiting for me. See, the universe wanted me to take it. 

Now I’m in the cab and it smells like I’m inside of someone’s rotting mouth. As soon as I got in – I wanted to get out. 

I have my head stuck out of the window like a dog but I’m pretty sure the stench is all over me. I’ll be wearing Eau de Halitosis for the rest of the day.

Just sharing.

Have a great day everyone.

The loud apology

I love a good apology. It makes me feel good to hear. I even feel good when I’m the one that’s apologizing –  and I’m always happy when I hear about others mending fences.

I grew up in a quiet house where there was no fighting. Just undercover seething and anger. My husband grew up in a loud house. With lots of raised voices and disagreements. Both not great. When we got married we vowed to be different, we weren’t really. We fought. He yelled, I seethed. And then one of us would apologize, we’d vow to never to do it again (silly) and we’d move on.

When we had kids we vowed again to be different – and we were….for a while. But the reality of life is that you will get mad. You’ll say things you don’t mean. You’ll be hurtful, or will get your feelings hurt. But now the kids are there. They’d hear all the anger, all the harsh things that each of us would say in the heat of the moment. And of course we’d apologize to each other eventually. We’d move on. But it would be done very differently than the fight. It would be done quietly. Softly. Usually out of earshot of the kids. I’m not sure that was the right thing to do.

Wouldn’t it have been great for our kids to hear us apologize as loudly as we fought?  I mean, they figured it out, they knew things were better but they didn’t see how they got better.

Channeling my inner Carrie Bradshaw I ask this simple question…”Why aren’t we as loud with our apologies as we are with our fights”?

Although come to think of it – my kids are pretty quick to apologize. And they aren’t ax murderers yet, so maybe it wasn’t all bad.

Ok. Sorry. Nevermind.

I mean SORRY!!!!

 

 

11 days

Until we drop our girl off at college – but whose counting? Oh yeah. I am. Every day. 

I’m assuming every parent in all of time has had this exact same feeling. It’s a mixture of sheer excitement for the things she’ll be doing and people she’ll be meeting, and sheer terror for the things she’ll be doing and the people she’ll be meeting. Let’s face it, she can learn everything she needs to know on the Internet and more importantly – people are horrible. Just kidding….ahem.

Plus…how is this little munchin supposed to go to college? 

 
You’d think we would be spending every second with her before she leaves but that’s not exactly how it’s working. Because that’s just what she’s doing – she’s  working. A lot. And then there’s her very full dance card. You’ll be shocked to hear this but a 17yr old would much rather do nothing with a friend then something with her mother! Outrageous right? 

We did kidnap her today for a few hours.    

 It was awesome.

I know this isn’t about me. But I’m so sad for me!!! Aren’t you sad for me too?

Ok ok. Let’s focus on the positive! Parents weekend is in October.

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