Basel

Hi there! Long time no talk. I don't think I have traveled outside the US sans children since South Africa, but here I am now in Basel Switzerland with just my hubby: yea. How does a stay at home mom who now lives in a sleepy but fabulous New England town pack for such an excursion? An excursion that starts in Basel and ends in Paris. Immediately I want to take all of the Chanel bags I own, and wear high heels and leather jackets everyday, but then I come to my senses and remember that Paris means walking and strolling, and I'm sorry, but blisters aren't Tres Chic, but blisters are better than Keens. Don't worry, I don't own a pair. Thus, I decided on one Chanel, one Balenciaga, my LV neverfull, and my snakeskin Foley & Corinna bag that has never been to the party. Once I nailed down the bags, it was on to footwear. I was under strict instruction from my hubby to pack light, so I settled on a mere 7 pair: my black mad white Chanel flats, awesome chocolate suede Jimmy Choo Youth Motorcycle boots, metallic Sigerson Morrison ghost loafers, tan suede Ash loafers with gold stars all over, fall themed Prada kitten heels (there are acorns involved), gray suede high heel booties from the Gap, and my Nikes (for running only). I feel strong about these decisions, and so far I have been happy. My departure outfit experienced a bit of a snafu when I came downstairs and my husband told me I looked like a ninja. I was wearing a long sleeve black James Pearse T with my Lulu groove pants and the moto boots. He looked down at my feet and continued with, "A ninja who rides a Harley". I think traveling in all black is chic and classy, and I was going to sport it up with my new emerald Lululemon puffer vest, but I never got that far. He went on to remind me that we were just flying six hours to Europe not Japan, so I went upstairs and changed into my "normal clothes". Some AG skinnies, a trendy elephant motif popover, my black Hermes belt, and the Chanel flats. We had a great Swiss Air flight to Zurich and a great little drive to Basel in our black Renault. Vaca is officially underway!! Cheers, Regan

Naked Fashionista

So, we got to the airport, and not only did delta not let Marc get on the plane; they took off the wrong bag. Yes people, I am here on safari with my husbands 27 pound bag of nothing. No undies, no cute snake boots, no safari button downs, no blush colored relaxed skinny jeans, no cute khaki safari jacket with pockets for all your shit. Yeah, I'm pretty much here with no husband, and a Delta sky team t-shirt. I do have the jeans I traveled in, and my mom has an extra pair of boots. Our professional hunter Tony got to know me really well at the airport when he took me into some hoochie store called Woolworths for some undies, a t-shirt (that fits), a long sleeve, a button down, and some tampons. Nothin like picking out some panties with a man you just met standing over your shoulder planning to pay for all of it. He encouraged me to get a pair of jeans, but he obviously doesn't know me very well. I would rather wear these seven Dojo jeans for a year than wear some flared dark denim with sparkly butterflies on the ass pockets. And, I figured the cat was out of the bag at that point (about the tampons), so I just asked him what I had unsuccessfully googled....."am I going to get attacked by a flesh eating animal since I have my monthly bill?" Don't worry people, I'll be safe. I guess I'll wear Marc's safari jacket tomorrow. It's either that or my khaki J.Crew grandpa sweater. I'm also taking one of his knives so I can feel a little like Cadmus, or whatever her name is from The Hunger Games. I'll have to take photos with my trusty IPhone since yes, my freakin camera was in my bag too. Oh well, thank god I'm with my parents and not my in-laws. My mom has enough mascara and blush to share. ;) Thus, let's hope for the safe arrival of one handsome husband and one bag full of fabulous safari fashions. I'm going to rock what I have people. It's gonna be great! Tomorrow, we are in search of a sable.

What Up South Africa

Hello there blog followers: it's been awhile. I'm writing this post from the 13th hour of my journey to Johannesburg South Africa. I still can't believe that I'm going to Africa, but it is definitely sinking in as I look at the flight info on the screen in front of me. We have 3 hours and fifteen minutes to go. I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, but to put it lightly, "this flight blows!". The day started off like a normal weekend day. I woke up, grabbed an espresso and a quick bite before I started the waffles and bacon. Sam woke up knowing that this was the day mommy and daddy were leaving, and he couldn't help but be a little sad. He came downstairs in his curious George t-shirt and batman undies with a sad little look on his face. I could tell that he was trying so hard not to cry, so we sat on the floor and had a little cry while we talked about all the fun things he and Zady were going to do when we were gone. It seemed to help. Meanwhile, Zady was eating her Special K with strawberries and singing a very beautiful song. Once Sam sat down at the table to eat his "gorilla balls" she started to talk to him, and wasn't going to have it. He started to cry again, as he told her in his meanest voice, "don't talk to me! I'm having a hard time right now!" She did not obey, and continued to piss him off until we went into the living room to talk to daddy. It was so sad to see him have his "hard time", but they are going to have a blast while we're gone. I just know it. Plus he forgot we existed once we turned on Star Wars. They bounce back! Thus, the trip started off fabulously; Marc and I left the house, the kids, and grandma with a spring in our step and our bags full of super cute safari clothes. He looked so handsome in his blue exoficcio long sleeve performance T, khaki hunting pants, and cowboy boots. And I was rocking a cute sleeveless teal number with a pair of sevens and my Hermes belt, teal side out. I hadn't donned my super cute safari jacket and scarf from Anthro since it was still pretty hot at the house. Footwear of choice was a pair of trusty Minnatonka moccasins with beaded eagles on the toe. Comfy and casual for the crazy day of travel. We made it to Atlanta and met my parents at this great restaurant in terminal E called One Flew South. This was one of those really nice airport restaurants that I long to be in when we travel with the kids. It's full of quiet adults having sushi, Kobe beef burgers and beautiful libations. We loved every second of it! So everything was trotting along as we headed to the gate. I was on my way to buy some water for the flight when I saw Marc talking to the gate agent. I went up to ask him if he wanted me to buy him some water, and he looked at me with the strangest look on his face and said, "I can't go, they aren't going to let me get on because I don't have enough pages left in my passport. My heart sunk and I looked at the gate agent and said, "you have to be joking, there has to be something we can do." Nothing. You are supposed to have at least two preferably four empty pages in your passport to travel to Africa which he had, but he didn't have a blank Visa page. No one ever said he had to have a blank Visa page, and the idiot who checked us in Philly should have said something, but of course they didn't. I guess it could have been worse, he could have made this hellish jaunt over the Atlantic only to be sent right back to the US once we went through customs. So, he's still coming, but he has to figure out how to get extra passport pages first. I couldn't believe it! We aren't going to let it ruin things: it's only delaying things for him, and he will be on his way soon. It's super ironic that the super savvy world traveler in our foursome got kicked off the plane. I had to watch him walk off with his cute blue shirt on as I boarded the plane. :( It was not my favorite thing at all. I was then having a little "hard time" of my own. Thirteen hours and some super sore tailbones later, we are over the shock of knowing Marc's not behind us, and we are excited to see him in a few days to join us on our fabulous Safari.

Total Americana

So, this weekend my husband wanted us to go to the beach, and the closest beach to us is about an hour and a half away in New Jersey. Yeah, that's right, New Jersey. I say that only because I'm from the South, and my only experience in New Jersey has taken place in Newark, and Piscataway.....both stellar examples of the industrial shithole part of Jersey. Hey, I started kindergarten in the armpit of Texas also known as Alice, so I can rag on my own state too......don't get all "jersey shore" on me.....I'm just sayin. Yes, so needless to say, I was a little skeptical of this Ocean City place. I was thinking of Newark and the small snippets I had seen on Talk Soup of that horrible Jersey Shore show, and not having high hopes or expectations of our impending weekend getaway.

I was instructed by my husband to find us a "rathole motel" for the one night that we were going because according to him....that is part of the fun of it all. Hmmmmm, rathole, and motel are not really part of my vacation dialog, but I am an obedient wife, so I started my search. My search was way harder than expected. I expected the challenge would lie in choosing the least crappy of places, but it took a turn when I called the first 5 places and all of them had at least a two night minimum. Thus my search turned into a search for a one night rate that wasn't over $200. I love a vacation, and a nice hotel room, but I'm not going to pay over $200 for one night in a Mo-tel that has reviews on Trip Advisory written by college kids. I have my standards people!

We picked up two extras for our mini beach vaca....my father in law and his wife were game for the weekend as well, so the one night motel search was made more challenging since I had to find not one, but two rooms......it was daunting, but I talked us into a two bedroom suite at the Ocean 7 Motel. I tried my hardest to set low expectations in all, since I had no idea what we were in for, but my nervousness subsided when Opa and Moma showed up with no suitcase, but a laundry basket full of belongings for the trip....I thought, well, they packed in a laundry basket, so at least we will be appropriately entering our foreshadowed accommodations.

Alas, we arrived, and our room was really nice, well....it was clean and comfy. It was like a Motel 6 goes to the beach, but with a little more swagger. We were all pleasantly surprised and happy with our room. The front desk was all about kids....we got balloon animals, and the opportunity to pick one piece of treasure out of a treasure chest of choking hazards. It was fantastics!

After we checked into our room, we hit the boardwalk. It was fabulous! It was full of families that were there to enjoy the beach and enjoy their time together. I felt like I had stepped back in time. The boardwalk was lined with pizza joints, arcades, souvenir shops, old fashioned candy joints, ice cream stands, and places that kids could only dream of. We walked up and down the boardwalk first, followed by a quick dip in the water. The weather was perfect! It wasn't too hot; the water was the perfect temp.....it was the perfect beginning to our mini beach vaca. After our dip, we went to Mack & Manco's pizza shop since it was recommended by my good friend Jen. The pizza was enormous and fabulous; pure thin crusted perfection!

So, nothin like getting back out in the water after 3 too many pieces of pizza. We swam, we made a dragon in the sand, I made tons of things that my kids took joy in destroying in a Godzilla-like manor in the sand. It was so fun! After that, we went back to our room, popped a bottle of wine, showered, and made it out to Ocean City Seafood Co. Once again, total Americana. The shops were all old but kept up, the servers were obviously local teenagers and very friendly. There was such a "mom and pop" feel to everything. My crab-cake platter was delicious, even after Pigpen decided that he needed to poop right when the food got to the table. (never fails)

After dinner we watched the people from Shrivers make homemade Salt Water Taffy, and then filled a giant bag full of pretty little colored treats. With bellies full of food and taffy we made our way down the boardwalk to the Music Pier where my kids served as the primary entertainment in addition to the live band playing surfer music. It was hysterical, my daughter went absolutely berserk during a drum solo while my son hopped around like a ninja on crack. After the music show, the young one went to bed with her Moma, and we headed down the boardwalk to the giant Ferris Wheel. My son was bursting with excitement and fighting exhaustion all at the same time. He was like a Jeckle and Hyde when we were waiting in line for the "steering wheel". Once we got on the Ferris Wheel, it was like no other Ferris Wheel ride I've ever had. I got to experience it through his eyes, and it was so exciting. I just couldn't imagine what was going through his little head. Ahhh, perfection. After the Ferris Wheel we had a few tickets to burn, so Pigpen decided to do the bumper cars.....and boy we had no idea the hilarity that was about to take place. It was the biggest cluster of kids and cars I had ever seen. Everyone was around 3-5 years old, and no one knew the first thing about driving a car. The poor girl that worked there had to pull them off of one another all while trying not to get pummeled in the process, while parents stood on the other side of the fence yelling, "go left, push on the gas, go right, watch out". I was ridiculous!

The next day started with a hearty and delicious breakfast at Augie's Waffle house. The Oatmeal pancakes were divine! The day was filled with a little bit of the same except we added a Surrey Ride to our experience. A Surrey is a huge covered bicycle that seats six and is peddled by four. We strapped the kids on the front of the basket and took off down the boardwalk. They loved it! Everyone loved everything, and that is the sign of a great mini beach vaca. I don't even think Birdie minded the two pounds of sand that fell out of her diaper when I changed her for the ride home.

Ocean City New Jersey.....you rock so much that I even bought a sweatshirt that I will proudly wear around my house. :)

Traveling With the Hooligans

Recently a friend of mine reached out to me because she is about to take her nine month old on an adventure to Austria. Sounds amazing! We took Pigpen to London when he was about ten months old, so I definitely have some experience with this. So, if you are traveling with the kiddos to a foreign land read on.....

We were going to England for the National Spine Somethingorother, and Pigpen and I got to tag along and spend the first week with Daddy in Oxford and Stratford Upon Avon before the convention started. Then we headed to London where my days were husband free, and it was up to me to sightsee with my little man alone. I was of course super excited for our adventure, but super duper ridiculously nervous as well. Pigpen had been on several airplanes before our trip across the pond, but no two plane rides are the same. My advice is, bring toys, bring dope (tylenol), snacks, woobies (blankets), and anything that lights up without making too much noise. Think of the things that your child likes at home, and pack those in your diaper bag. Don't forget an extra pair of clothes for him, and an extra shirt for you just in case some weird shit goes down....you never know, and you don't want to go through customs looking like a haggard slobby mom. Not cute. :) Once we were flying somewhere with Pigpen, and he was sleeping like a log when the lady came by for drinks, so I totally went for it.....I ordered a tomato juice. I went against everything I knew to be sensible in my head because I wanted a damn tomato juice; my husband was inspired by my sassiness and too ordered a tomato juice.

Without fail, I knocked mine over; it went all over the cashmere baby blanket covering my child, and all over my shirt. My husband jumped and tried to help me when he saw it spill causing his to spill as well. It was awesome! Pigpen slept through it, but we were covered, and the cashmere blanket...well, disaster. So, when traveling with kids, you should only order water always no matter what, end of story.

I digress, so when planning a trip across the pond you need to think about what you use and do everyday with your child, and then you need to think about how you can make that happen where ever you are headed. We chose to fly Virgin Atlantic because we could upgrade to business class without breaking the bank, and we were able to reserve the first row and rent a bassinet from the airline. It was about $120 more, but totally worth every penny. This was a box that snapped into the wall about eye level for the baby to lay in. Pigpen was huge, and not really a baby at 10 months, but hey, it worked. He slept in that cozy little box while we drank champagne and ate steak. It was worth every penny.

My husband always scoffed at me when I insisted on taking the stroller through the airport. We had a BOB, and I was absolutely 100% gay for this stroller. It was like a dream cart. You could hang stuff off of it, put tons of things in it....it was awesome, and it folded up in two seconds....so easy, and so worth having in the airport. I'm sorry, but having a kid strapped to the front of me while I'm trying to carry my diaper bag, a starbucks, and walk in cute shoes....not happenin, and not my idea of traveling fun. So, take the stroller, and gate check it. You have to wait for it when you get off the plane, but it has always been fine.

What to pack: We were going to England where they obviously speak English, but you never know what kind of things they are going to have once you get there. They call diapers nappys, and they eat fish and chips, curries, and prawns, so I wasn't going to take any chances on our comfortable experience. My son was comfortable in his pampers cruisers, so I packed enough for the whole trip. He loved his organic Gerber mish mosh, so I packed a shitload of those too. He had sensitive skin, so I packed a washcloth from home and some mild soap. My husband thought I was crazy, but I only had one big roller bag, a duffle for Pig, and my diaper bag, oh, and a purse, but that's it. We made arrangements with all of the hotels for a pack n play, and we didn't take his car-seat since we used trains and public transit the whole time. In fact, when we got there, the cabby took the entire stroller and put it in the cab with Pigpen in it and put the brake on (the cabs are huge in London). I was prepared to hold him on my lap like the most secure human restraint on earth, but he was happy in his stroller, and probably much more safe.

I made sure he had at least two blankets from home for his bed, and two stuffed animals. That way each place wasn't sooo different from home. We also downloaded lullabies on my ipod and brought this awesome little speaker dock that looks like a lego to put next to his bed. I also have this great little night light from Ikea called the Spoka. I take it with me when I go places because it travels well, and it's great to have a night light with kids.

We had such an awesome time! We even made arrangements with the hotel for a babysitter two different nights. The hotels were nice, and these were people that they contracted, thus making them liable, so you can trust it. I took a photo of the babysitter holding Pigpen each time before I left so I could show it to the police later if I had to, but the girls were sweet and did a great job. I loved our trip. Be brave if you travel! I learned how to navigate the Tube, London's subway system. One helpful hint about subways and strollers is, look for the handicap accessible stops if you are by yourself. That way you can be certain you will be able to wheel your chariot where it needs to go instead of getting somewhere with 4 flights of stairs and no elevator. I learned that the hard way. We also started to take the ferry instead of the subway....it was a few pounds more, but it was faster and waaayyy easier. Plus, what little boy doesn't love a boat?

That is all I can remember. I hope that helps, and let me know if anyone had any questions about traveling with those sweet little baby angels of yours who would never cry, or make noise, or do anything annoying to other passengers.

Oh, here is some good airplane etiquette. Be nice, be as calm as possible, and realize that it is loud on an airplane, so people probably aren't hearing anything from your area at least two rows away. I always say to my kids out loud, "don't kick or touch the seat in front of you, I'm sure that man will not appreciate it, do your best." That way he knows that I'm trying to keep them under control. Also, if things get out of control, just put on your blinders, don't panic, and think of what your child needs. Don't think about the people giving you the evil eye, just think about calming down, and getting your child whatever it is they want! :) Those evil eye folks will get theirs, and it won't be good, so don't worry about those assholes. And, if you don't have kids, please be nice to the people who do. They don't want to be on the plane any more than you do, so give them a break.

That's all for now......Tootles!

The Call

So, today was an ordinary day at Oak Lodge.....I still can't believe that I get to live in a house that has it's own name. Anyway....I have joined this fabulous Gym in town that is huge, awesome, and well fabulous. It has an entire wing for kids with tons of fun stuff to do. They even do a craft with them at certain times during the day, AND, you can leave them in the Kid's Zone for 2.25 hours. Awesome! Also....wait for it....wait for it....there is a full service spa that has everything from massages and facials, to nails and waxing for you to partake in while your kids are being thoughtfully entertained by people who are most definitely not petaphiles. They have a cafe that has two meals featured under glass display cases everyday, they have pools, they have pilates, they have yoga, they have some horrible class called "dance party" that I was so happy I did not partake in today. They have my happiness.

I digress. So this is my new haunt....I go there for piece of mind, and to meet friends. I actually met 3 really cool girls, and get this...one of them has my name. I'm finally starting to settle into a routine in my new town and my new house. It feels good. We still can't afford daycare yet, but maybe some day. I like to joke that I am the Governess of Oak Lodge because all of these men have been out lately to hook things up, and I'm dressed in sweats with crazy hair. I'm sure they think I'm eccentric to say the least....

So, back to the call. I was haunting my haunt when it came, and I'm sure it meant that my giant Louis bag was ringing annoyingly in the Kid's Zone. It was rainy and crappy here today, so I didn't even check my phone until I got home since it was tucked safely away in my hot coral Burberry Rain Coat. I was giving the kids their lunch, organic hotdogs (if that's not an oxymoron) and prunes, when I checked my messages. I called the custom closet place earlier that day to order more rods, so I figured the Boston number was the lady calling me back for my credit card information and address, but I was sooooo pleasantly surprised and totally flabbergasted when I listened to the message.

The message said, "Hi Mrs. P this AnnMarie from Hermes in Boston, and I was just calling to tell you that your Orange Birkin is finally here, and we will hold it here with your name on it until we here from you."

What??? Are you kidding me right now??? Those were my exact words. So, here I am...little old unfamous, un trust-funded, un oil-heiressed me, and now I have had not just one, but two encounters with the elusive Birkin. I never in a million years thought I would get a call back from AnnMarie. She seemed a bit Snooty McSnoot when I met her in the Boutique a year ago. Granted I did stroll in with my husband, who is cute, and quite fashionable, and well....my two kids. One of which was crying because she either pooped in her pants, wanted to sleep, was bored, or wanted to nurse. Still, I looked cute. I was sporting my super cool Mackage rain coat with bubble sleeves, a fabulous Missoni scarf and some Hunter wellies when we went in. I remember she didn't have any normal Birkins in the store that day....they rarely do, but she had an exotic skin one that she let me fondle. I gave her my name and information, as well as the color and size that I wanted. And Bam! One year later.....I got the call.

I totally called her back to talk details with her. She told me the price and I responded with a sarcastic but jovial joke about that being totally normal and mainstream. She actually laughed and joked with me. I told her that we just moved and bought a house, so it was most likely a no-go, but I would talk it over with my husband and get back to her. Then, I asked her if she could send me a picture of it, and she said that she would. I can't even stand it! I had a few delirious thoughts of charging it. I could just hear my husband in the back of my head saying, "your credit doesn't matter now since we have a badass house that we won't be moving out of any time soon". That means, to a shopaholic that you should go out and get every store card imaginable and charge everything ridiculous. Thank God I am a recovering shopaholic!!

I will just revel in the photo and in the hopes that one day I will write a best seller and buy one with all of my millions. :)

Fashionista's Journey to PA

So here it is folks. I would like to apologize for being so absent in the bloggosphere, and mostly I would like to apologize to all of those folks who feel like I left like a fugitive with no goodbyes. Once you read this you will understand our plite. My loving husband is the worker in our family, and he was working at a medical implant start up company. No, we can not get you a good deal. :) We moved from Austin - the city that we loved - to try our hand at self employment before we started our family. So I moved from all of my friends to a strange little town in the northeast to live in a small log cabin on a lake in the middle of nowhere! I had just had a baby, put my career on hold, and moved from my family. It was so hard, but Pigpen, who was four months at the time was a trooper, and so was mommy. We made it work, and I made some really fabulous friends who helped me figure out how to be a stay at home mom. I love you guys for that!

So we knew that the start up world would be full of uncertainty. I approached it like Vegas. I am a super big risk taker, and my husband is not, so we really balance each other out that way. I supported him on this, and was ready to accept the outcome. It was going to be really good, or we were going to lose our shirts. I was ready for it, and I wore my big girl pants the whole time. Everything went really well for the first two years and his company was in the process of being sold while I had Birdie, and from that point on it was always touch and go. We were constantly in save mode so we could walk away if we needed to with some money in the bank. I think it's known as "f-you money" in the man world. He even told me at one point when the company was almost totally out of cash (the cash crisis occurred several more times) that I might need to go back to work. This conversation happened about a week and half after I had Birdie when I was still riding the emotional rollercoaster of motherhood. It was not a fun conversation to have. It was like being stuck in the trash compactor on Star Wars when all of the walls were closing in, and you were just sitting there knee deep in water full of floating trash with a hairy monster who can't talk and a smelly space captian.....awful! I couldn't imagine putting her in daycare for someone else to be responsible for since I had been with Pigpen the entire time. It just didn't seem fair to her, but I was willing to do what we had to do. I am able to get through these things with my Scarlett O'Hara mentality. "I will think about that tomorrow." I think that might be my best trait.

So, we were always in this perpetual limbo of uncertainty. I can't tell you how many times he would say, we might know something next month. They are supposed to tell us if they are going to buy the company next month. It never happened. They never made up their minds.....they would extend it and extend it, and I had no idea if I was staying or moving somewhere else. I decided to just live my life like nothing was happening. We both decided to just stop trying to predict the future and live life like we were staying. I made plans with my friends and never mentioned that I could be leaving soon. I thought that was the best way to go since we really didn't know. The possibilites were: build the company up locally, stay put for about two more years and then move to the town of the company that acquired them, move to Salt Lake City, move back to Austin, move to San Diego, or move to PA. I looked at real estate in each city every day. It was nuts! All the while not knowing what we were doing or where we were going. It changed on a daily basis, so we just started to approach it with a sense of humor.

Then, we were in PA over Thanksgiving and there were several companies bidding on the start up. My husband got a call from one of the big ones, and was asked to formally interview for his dream job sometime before the end of the year. I think he hung up the phone and crapped his pants a little. He really didn't, but maybe he wanted to. So, it was the Friday before Thanksgiving, and we were leaving that evening to head to PA to be with his family. He talked to the President of the company right before we left and decided to take some suits along just in case they could put an agenda together. Thank goodness he did! They called him Sunday night and told him to come in to interview Monday and Tuesday. He brought exactly two suits....lucky. This company had been looking for someone to fill this job for the past 6 months....it was a big job...

So he left early in the morning for his "meeting", and I had to sit there and tell everyone it was just a meeting with one of the companies that wanted to buy his company.....the whole time I was dying inside because I knew that his family would do cartwheels if they knew that we might be an hour and half away. My family, not so much, but it's nice to make at least one family happy. San Diego wouldn't make anyone happy.

The job interviews took all day long each day, and he was so worn out when he got home, and I was under a strict gag order to not mention one word about this to anyone. He was sensitive that if it didn't work out, the added pressure of seeing his family get excited and then disappointed would be too much to handle, so I just had to sit there and not tell a soul about any of this!!!!! It was torture!!! Maybe I told one person, but I will never confirm that ever!

Time passed, we made it through the holiday and prepared to go to Texas for Christmas. The buying of the company was coming to a head before the end of the year (they really were totally out of cash by this time), and his presence at the office was more important than ever. This meant we weren't going to get to Texas, and my mother's heart was going to be broken! We broke the news to her, and told her it wasn't for sure, but that we were probably going to have to stay in the frozen North until the deal closed. She was very sad, but understood. It sucked to say the least.

The days just mopped by like a Salvadore Dali painting. The present and the future just sagged like the clock hanging on the tree branch it.....was.....so.....painfully........slow. No one would make up their mind about buying the company. I just wanted to call them all and say, "look you stupid suits, shit or get off the pot, so I can get on with my life!" But then!!! My husband got offered THE job! Not one of the million backup jobs in far away places, but his dream job at the big company in PA! It's a huge job for a huge company with huge responsibility, but he is the type of person that thrives in that environment, and he loves to be busy, so well....he's going to be really busy!

This brings me to the part about telling people. I wasn't allowed to tell anyone about the job offer because it was an offer from Company A. Company A had been trying to buy my husband's company, Company C, and then Company A's competitor called Company B was also trying to buy Company C. Company B wanted to buy C, but also wanted my husband to go there and work, but my husband really wanted to work at Company A. It was all very touchy, and very sensative, so I wasn't allowed to tell a soul for fear that something would leak to Company B, and then they wouldn't go through with the buy out of Company C because of his acceptance with Company A. Do you smell what I'm steppin in? We had been waiting for this day for over a year, so I wasn't about to be the one to ruin everything with a blab of the mouth. Wouldn't that be awesome....the one who doesn't have a job ruined the one who does have a job's chances for success. I just couldn't risk it, so I had to keep quite.

With this news, we were able to buy tickets for Texas and spend a great holiday there. We were at my parents' house in the Hill Country for the first part of the holiday, then we went to my family's ranch to hang out with the deer, and then we rang in the New Year in Port Aransas at my brother's beach house. It was soooo awesome! My brother has an enormous boat that I think qualifies as a Yacht. I'm not talking the Yacht that Goldie Hawn fell off of in Overboard, but a mini version of that with 3 bedrooms, 2 full baths, and a beautiful living room. It's unreal! We got to be "those people" one night. You know those people that pull up to the restaurant in their big boat and hop off of the back with kids in tow to eat at the restaurant while the captain stays on the boat and waits for you to finish dinner and drive you home since you drank too much wine; yeah, those people. It was ridiculous, and so much fun! I'll blog about that later.

I was feeling much more at ease since I finally knew what the future held. Nobody got rich when the company sold, but they preserved most of their shareholder's value and the product will make it to the hospital instead of a business book. That was a pretty good outcome. I could actually breathe easy and not have to wonder where I would be in a month. There really were so many ways it could have gone....the worst being all the deals and job offers fall through, the company liquidates, and we're out on the street. That was such a real possibility at times that I just chose the Scarlet O'Hara approach to all of it. I couldn't even think about it.

But now!! We are in PA, my husband started his new job which he loves, and we are about to buy the most beautifully fabulous house I have ever seen. I can't even believe that I get to live in a 100 year old house in PA that sits on three and half acres of beauty. I have waited soooo long for this. I have lived for three years in a log cabin with no bathtub causing me to cringe every time Pigpen got in a sandbox or in a mud puddle. Now he can get as dirty as boys can, and I can choose from 4 tubs to soak him in. I can even hose him down in the yard like a naked little jaybird if necessary, and no one will think I'm white trash because no one will see me. I feel so grateful that everything has worked out so wonderfully, but believe me, it took a lot to get to this point. This is the prime example of patients paying off. For those of you who now me, you know that I am Mrs. Instant Gratification, and not Mrs. Patience. I usually make a gaggy face at those Mrs. Patience people, but I have done my best, and I am quite proud of how I handled things. Now we can breathe easy and be poor because we have a fabulous house, instead of because we are saving for the worst case scenario. I like house poor better than that for sure!

So this is my explanation and my apology to all of the fabulously wonderful people I met in Massachusetts. I love and miss all of you! You were and are wonderful friends, and you will always be welcome in our home. I will make you delicious food, and we will have so much fun if you come to visit. I miss going to the gym. I miss our dreamy play-dates. I miss our girl's weekends. I miss our Natick Mall adventures. I miss our Wellesly shopping excursions. I miss my fabulous neighbors, and I even miss Dunks. You people made a Texas girl feel really happy in the frozen north!!!

The Mom Shower

If you are a mom you know that a shower is not just a shower, it's a small luxury that is rarely enjoyed and prolonged, but when it is.......it's like a unexplainable cleanse of so many things-someone else's snot, spit up, an unusual smell on your shoulder, pureed carrots from your hair, your overall spirit. Today I experienced one of those. Today......I am a better person.

Usually my "mom shower" is something reminiscent of Summer Camp, meaning, you have about 3 minutes to do your best. IE-shaving your legs is not on the menu unless you want to take the entire strip of skin off of your tibia. The underarms, well, you will regret it when you lift your arms overhead at a playdate the next day, or at the gym....if you're an over achiever mom who frequents such places. I do frequent the gym...at first it was the only place that I could get away from my "nice baby", and it was the only place that the "nice baby" could get some human contact with other "nice babies" and not to mention other caregivers. I have finally made some friends, so I do also get to go to playdates and fun little outings these days. Thank you Jesus! I digress....

Thus, not looking like Julia Roberts on the red carpet that time she had full on man hair under her arms is important. Okay, back to the "mom shower". The "mom shower" happens at two different times of the day: way too late, or during nap time. The "way to late" shower usually happens around 10pm when I would rather be curled up on the sofa watching something mindless or drifting off to sleep in my cozy bed. This shower is truly a necessity because you realize that it's not your husband who smells like BO, it's you! And, if you want your new Alexander Wang Cardigan Wrap (the one you bought at Barneys for way too much that really shouldn't go in the washer) to smell like your husband, you better take it off, and take care of that. So, that's the late shower.

The "nap time shower" is the most ridiculous of the two. This is the one that starts on impulse. You realize that you may have a few moments to yourself, and you really long to read the new addition of Lucky that just arrived in the mailbox, but once again, you can't remember the last time you showered, and you think that must be the reason that your hair is so....well, uncooperative. So, you rip off your clothes, leave the bathroom door open, blast the baby monitor, and hope you can get through the conditioning cycle before you hear the scream of the baby, or the blood curdling, "mooooommmyyy" of the two and half year old. My favorite is when you can hear the baby crying, and you haven't even rinsed the shampoo out of your hair or even started the body wash faze. This is when you have to make the clutch decision, do I finish, or do I rush out of the shower only to find that she is bored and not dying of something unusual? Decisions decision.....the day is filled with them when you stay at home with your kids.

I remember, in my former life, I would wake up, go for a run, come back, eat breakfast, shower, get dressed in a suit, heels, fabulous bag, and head out the door with perfume on. Everyday. Back then I took showers for granted, I hate myself for that.

However, every once in a while you will have that great day when both kids nap at the same time, and you have 2 whole hours to yourself. And in two hours.....anythings possible!! Keep in mind, you can't leave your house, but you might be able to shower, do some on-line shopping, win something fab on Ebay, watch some Tivo'd nonsense and enjoy an afternoon Espresso. I call this, "the perfect storm", and I will never take those days for granted.......Ever!

So here's to all you mom's out there who have showered faster than the pit crew changing a tire at a Nascar race. I get it, I impathize with it, and I can laugh about it. :)

LL Bean??

So, ever since I've moved to New England I have felt somewhat compelled to own something from LL Bean. I can't believe I just admitted that, but don't write me off just yet. I have tried to like their wares every time we get one of their catalogs in the mail, and since we get one every five days it seems.....I have tried a lot! I even went with my husband to a new LL Bean store that just opened in Dedham. I went with him fully convinced I would leave the store with a pair of LL Bean Classic Duck boots, but I just couldn't pull the trigger when it came down to it. I guess I just felt so......dare I say.......ordinary.

Plus I might have to shoot myself in the face if I were out in my LL Bean Classic duck boots and happened to walk by a fellow fashionista sporting some Jimmy Choo Hunter Wellies. She would probably look at my ordinary boots and look at me like a fun project. That is when I would scream inside and shoot myself in the face, because.......if you have Jimmy Choo rainboots, you wear the Jimmy Choo rainboots, and oh yes, I have the Jimmy Choo Hunter wellies in Black.

However, I was somewhat enchanted with the commercial for the new store opening that was airing in the area. It showed several devoted customers lining up the day before the big opening with tents, sleeping bags, camp chairs, little stoves, etc.....all made by LL Bean. These people were adventurous, happy, and all hoping to get the coveted $1000 gift card that goes to one of the random first 25 customers. It looked like a fab time! I mean, you are camping in the parking lot at a nice new shopping center right next door to PF Changs. Civilization is right there, and it has lettuce wraps, and Dan Dan noodles. Anyway, I was enchanted and intrigued, but somewhat disappointed with the selection of ill-fitting pants and mock turtlenecks once we finally went to the store.

But then, this summer, something somewhat extraordinary happened. No, I didn't turn gay and fall in love with Classic LL Bean clothing, We got a different type of LL Bean catalog. It was the "LL Bean Signature" catalog, and the clothes were actually cute. I even dogeared some pages. That's major!!

There is a slight hint of fall in the air right now in New England. I'm still trying to hold on to summer without wishing it away, but all of my cute boots are calling out to me in the night.....it's just so hard. And well, I think I found a pair of new boots to add to my collection. LL Bean Signature line has come out with their "stylish" version of the Classic Bean Boot. It's so cute! It's almost twice the price of the ugly one, but that's okay, because it's actually really cool, and it's sitting in my online shopping cart as I type. I think I need them! I actually think I might need several things from the website.

In fact, I was genuinely sad when I discovered that the Vintage Rose Madras Camp Shirt is sold out in my size. I might need the corduroy shorts, and I can't believe that I love the navy turtleneck with ducks on it. Who am I? I thought I liked the Cuffed cropped pant, but then upon further inspection I discovered that the model looked like she had a faint camel toe and a fat ass, so that means disaster for normal people, so don't even think about it. I like the Heeled Penny Loafer, and dare I say.......the signature belt! Ahhhh! I would be a walking advertisement for them if I got that! I don't know if I was abducted by aliens last night or what, but it's true, I kind of want it!

Thus, it's official, I am borderline obsessed with the Bean Boot, and the Downeaster Sport Wool Plaid Bag. It's the cutest! And it will be so sassy on weekend trips to mountain lodges because we do so much of that with our two kids, well, maybe we will start. :) Should I click the check out button......

Local Produce

So, I just ate a delicious orange, and I noticed when I pulled the sticker off of it, that it came all the way from South Africa!! WTF? Why is my grocery store in Milford, MA buying bags of oranges from South Africa? Does that seem weird to anyone else, or is it just me? I just can't help but wonder what that bag of oranges had to go through to get here. Was it nothing short of planes, trains, and automobiles for that bag of South African oranges?

I also can't help but feel guilty that I'm not supporting the local community, or better yet, just plain old America. I would much rather be supporting an American Orange grower....I'm sure there are plenty that need my support. Why does my Massachusetts grocery store out source their oranges to South Africa. (I know, I know, I should have gone to a damn farmer's market, but I didn't!) I can't help but think it costs a fortune to bring those oranges to the states. Wouldn't it cost the same to get them more locally? Can local farmers not supply the demand for such a big grocery chain? Am I dabbling in, dare I say the words,.....Global Economics right now? Those words remind me of college, and of scary college classes taught by terribly uninteresting professors that create nothing less than a snooze fest instead of economic awareness. Maybe that's why I don't know the answers to these seemingly simple questions.

Why can't the grocery stores stock their shelves with local fair? I'm sure the local farmers don't have the overhead of a factory over seas, or maybe the oranges came from a local South African Farmer who really drives a tractor.....I don't really know, but I still can't help but think it's weird that I still have 4 oranges left in my house that traveled here from South Africa. Oh if those oranges could talk......would they have a British accent?

Boys have a Johnson, Girls have a vagina...

So, this morning, when I was changing The Bird's diaper, Pigpen asked me where her "johnson" was. I told him that she didn't have a johnson because she was a girl, and girl's have a vagina. I then asked him if mommy had a johnson, and he said yes. I reminded him that mommy was a girl, and girls have a vagina, so mommy doesn't have a johnson. So, he shrugged his shoulders and went on his way. I then changed his diaper, and he was babbling something about mommy's "gina" and baby sister's "gina". I hadn't a clue, so I decided to inform them at school of his newfound information.

I told the girls that Pigpen learned that boys have a johnson, and girls have a vagina this morning, so I wasn't sure what great things he was going to say today. They looked at me half confused and laughing and just nodded. I left wandering if he was the only two year old that was aware of this....hmmmmm.

I had forgotten about the whole thing by the time I picked him up, and they didn't have any genitalia themed reports for me, so we drove home and talked about all the trucks and cars he played with at school. That evening when we were walking to the driving range, I told my husband about our conversation, and he thought that vagina was too "grown up" of a word to teach a boy who just turned two. I always thought you were supposed to call it by it's name and not make a big deal about it. Thus, we decided to call it "teetee" from here on out.

So daddy was taking him up to bed, and he told daddy that he didn't want to go to bed, he wanted to go to the store to touch "ginas". Daddy told him that those stores were illegal in Massachusetts, so Pigpen went to bed, and daddy told mommy that's why you don't call it a vagina yet. I'm still laughing!

Watch Your Children

Hi all! I was at the park today on a "playdate", and I witnessed something very interesting. I'd love to know what you think about this. Pigpen was on the teeter totter (aka seesaw), and we ran into this really cute dad with his really cute little boy. The dad was super friendly and his son was a chip off the old block. The dad was surprised at how tall my friend's daughter was since his son was three, and not nearly as tall. The kids played for a second, and then his sweet little son wanted to venture over to the big kid park. We were playing in the little kid park that was fenced in, and the Big Kid park next to it was not.

So, cute dad left and never resurfaced until I was leaving. As I was navigating the stroller out of the gate with Pigpen holding my hand, I saw cute dad again with his little boy. He asked me if I knew who this other child belonged to. I looked over at the cute little boy no older than three. I asked him where his mommy was, and he just looked at me with a blank stare. I looked at cute dad, and he said that the kid had been hanging out with them for the last 15 minutes or so, and he hadn't seen anyone looking after him.

So, that's the situation.....no, he didn't ask me out, or try to make out with me. :) So my thoughts were...."I'm sure this kid's parents are here, but who are they, and why aren't they seeing this go down......"this" meaning, two strangers looking for his parents. I know cute dad was a bit concerned, but I also know that his fun outing with his son at the park had now turned into; fun outing with son and random kid that he now felt responsible for.

I looked around, and told him I wasn't sure as Pigpen was telling me that he wanted to go back into the park. I told Pigpen that the car was much more fun, and surprisingly he agreed. The cute dad looked at me and said, "wow, that really works?"

I smiled and walked off, and as I was leaving I stopped by a picnic table of women and asked if anyone knew who the little boy in the striped shirt belonged to. Then, this young girl looked at me and said in a "so annoyed that she had to stop talking about whatever it was she was talking about tone" ; "he's mine, and he's fine." Whoa there sweet heart! I didn't really know what to say since she made it sound like I was some crazy worried over protective mom, By the way, she was sitting at the picnic table about 20 yards from her son with her back to him, and he was barely visible from where she was. I quickly said, "that guys a dad which means he's new to all of this, so just humor him." They laughed and then she said even more bitchy, "he's fine! Andrew, you can go in there....it's allowed."

Oh, she was such a snatch about the whole thing. I thought maybe she was just going to be that way to me, but when she yelled across the playground like we weren't letting her kid do something it was just gross. I wish I would have had the quick wit to say, "we were just a little concerned since he wouldn't speak to us, or even point out his mother".....underlying meaning, your kid is way too young to play by himself if he isn't old enough to point you out, you snatch!

I don't know, I'm still a little shocked that she didn't even know where he was, or seemed so nonchalant about his whole existence at the park. I totally think I could have walked off with him, but who knows. I just know, that my kid has one of my eyes on him the whole time everywhere we go. Am I psycho, or should I just relax?

Zady's Shots

So my mom was in town, and we had such a great time together! I love her so much!!! Okay, back to the story. Zady hit her four month mark, and that meant more shots, and because I am the wife of the year if not the century, I decided to forgo the shots until a more suitable time. Her four month checkup was right before I left for my girl's weekend to NYC, so I decided to not get her shots in case she had a reaction. I didn't want to chance it. I wouldn't be able to leave my husband at home with a sick baby that was just learning to take a bottle. I just couldn't fathem, so I made an appointment to get them a week later.

I dressed Zady in her fabulous little brown dress that makes her look like an Eco Baby model. The dress is brown with little blue, green, and pink birdhouses all over it....it is perfection. I thought this would be easy for shot administration since I wouldn't have to mess with pants. I was armed with funbags full of milk, and some Tylenol if need be. The nurse came in with 3 syringes and the rotavirus drink. I asked her what we were getting today, and she spouted off the usual. Rotavirus, DTaP, Hep B, and MMR. They sounded right to me, so she went for it. Zady lapped up the rotavirus, and then hated the rest of the experience. I nursed her as soon as the nurse left the room, and she immediately forgot about the horror, and concentrated on her quest for being the fattest baby girl on the planet.

After we had occupied the room for about 20 minutes I was just about to put the Bird back in her carseat when the nurse popped in and told us not to leave until she talked to us. My mom and I looked at each other and said okay wilst shrugging our shoulders.

I couldn't imagine what she wanted to talk to us about, but we waited and waited, and then I finally opened the door to the room as to say.....hello, what the hell, in a jesture of course. The nurse comes in and shuts the door, and then tells us that she looked at the wrong chart, and accidently gave Zady the Hep B shot. Of course the first thing that pops into my head is Autism, and all the controversy over vaccines. But, I calmly asked, "is this dangerous?", and she assured me that it wasn't, and that they used to give them the Hep B shot at this visit until just recently.......I asked, "how recently," and she told me it changed about a year ago.....which means about two years ago.......ahhhhhh! I was so mad, but trying to be calm and not bitchy. She said that I could talk to the doctor, and then she told me that she is an honest person, and that is why she couldn't let us leave without telling us. I was thinking to myself....."woman, we were here for an extra 20 minutes before you popped in and told us to stay longer. So we waited for the doctor to come in.

Once the Doctor came in, she assured us that it was not harmful, and that with this misshap, she wouldn't need to get the Hep B at her 6 month visit. SHe was trying her hardest to spin it into a positive. I cleared up any questions, and then made her stand there as I typed in the info into my IPhone so I wouldnt forget any important info for my next visit. Talking to the doctor made me feel better, and made me able to put the "mishap" in the back of my mind as we headed for the mall.

Zady was acting perfectly normal, so I was totally over everything in about 2 hours. My mom and I were having a great time at the mall. We had a lovely lunch, and were now having fun in the makup department of Niemans. This is when I learned that earlier that day they had a brunch and a private screening of Sex and The City. I was appaulled!!! I looked at Leo with sadness in my eyes as I said, "what?? Where was my invite???? He gave me a sheepish look and asked me if he should get my mom a champagne as well as me......

I quickly got over it because, I mean really, I could not have gone....I have a baby! Oh well, and plus, we had to take Zady in to get too many shots that morning. Then....dun dun dun!!!!! I was waited for my champagne in the Shoe Salon when my phone rang. There was a woman's voice on the other end of the line that said, "is this Zady's mom?" It was the doctor. She told me that she wanted to call me because it's been bothering her all day. She misread the chart earlier, and was mistaken on her answers to my questions. My heart sank as I walked over to the corner of the shoe salon in the most fabulous pair of Miu Miu platform heels you can imagine. She told me that the shot would not count after all toward her needed vaccinations, and that she would need to get another one at her six month visit. I was fuming!!!

I told her that I was upset before, but that now I was absolutely pissed because she was basically telling me that my four month old baby got a vaccination that she didn't need. I was so mad, and I was not going to just laugh it off and say, "oh okay." She told me that I had every right to be upset, and that she was very sorry. I then went on to tell her that because of this, I am forced to be one of those annoying parents who second guess and ask and make sure about everything their staff does. I don't want to be that mom, but apparently I'm going to have to be. I told her that I go there and put my child's health and wellbeing in their hands because that's there job, and now I'm going to have to be the "internet parent" because of this incident.

I hated it!!! I hated everything about the situation. I hated that the nurse messed up, for my child, and for the nurse. I know that she was busy, but give me a break.....that could have been really bad! Apparently she was reprimanded and management was notified......whatever! It's all just gross. I'm sure it ruined her day, and it made me feel like a bad parent. It made me feel guilty that I didn't have my child's shot records and the shot record reccomendations by the American Board of Pediatrics memorized.

Needless to say, the bird is fine, I gulped down my champagne, and got a great discount on the Tory Burch studded thong sandals that I wanted. Lesson learned.....always be on top of things at the doctor, and know that ultimately you are the one responsible for your child's health.

Getting the Hang of Things

So I will say that I am definitely getting the hang of this whole "mother of two" thing. I am able to successfully navigate the parking lot without anyone getting run over, and I can even take both kids to the Grocery Store and Target. Granted I am limited on what I can put in my basket when the entire carseat is in the basket, but hey, what do you think the bottom is for?? It's not just for dog food ladies and gentlemen. I should warn against putting chicken breast underneath because it can tend to fall through the cracks, and well, it's just no fun to run over with the wheels of the basket......gross!

With that being said, you "non-children" people should know that it's damn hard to keep your almost two year old son from running into the parking lot, and from throwing the vegetables (or his crocs) onto his baby sister as she angelically rides in the big part of the basket. And if you are thinking that I should put Pigpen in the basket part, well I considered that, but then quickly realized hat would be a tragedy waiting to happen. He would either push the Bird's carseat off of the cart while I chose the perfect avocado, or he would throw the perfect avocado out of the basket just as we were headed to the check out. This would all be very fun for him, and for me.....tragedy, so I think we have a good system. I sometimes put her in the baby bjorn as well, but just plopping the carseat in the basket is way easier.

Now that I have the basics down, I just feel like I can do anything! We bought a double stroller, so I can go anywhere!! Have I been to the mall yet with both kids.....hell no! I could do it, but that would be torture for Pigpen....he wants to get out and run, and splash in the fountain, and rub his snotty nose on women's couture, so no, we will not go to the mall in our fabulous new Phil and Ted's Lime green double stroller. I reserve that for days when he is at school, and it can be just us girls. :)

Speaking of stroller, can I just say that when we roll out with our new Lime Green fabulosity, we are the stroller envy of all! My husband and I recently took the train into Boston.....we were so urban. We pushed our two fabulous little angels through Boston Common, Feneul Hall, and down Newbury street. I can't tell you how many looks we got.....looks of amazement from the "non-children" ones, and looks of envy from the "parents". It was remarkable.

So, well, I am getting the hang of things, and thank goodness for that. Everyday I am realizing how easy it was to just have one, but you will never come to that realization until you have two.....it's just crazy. :) It's kind of like not being able to explain how it is indeed different to actually be married rather than just living together, or how you will never understand how your thinking changes once you are a parent. Hard to explain, but you finally get it when it happens. And when it happens....it's Awesome!

The Aftermath

So, childbirth is definitely hard and gross and painful, and weird, and all that, but nothing is as bad as the aftermath. This is the first night in the hospital with your new little bundle of joy. At least we knew more of what to expect this time since we had one delivery under our belts, but you really don't remember just how shitty it all is.

Things were peachy and great right after of course. My Dad and brother brought me a Schlotszky's sandwich that I wolfed down while watching Ed give Zady the best first bath ever. He flipped her over and washed her hair in a tiny bowl of water with such precision and care.....it was like an artist making a masterpiece. After I ate, Zady ate, and things were good and dandy.....epidural was still rock solid at this point. By the way, during labor, since I had two epidurals, my left side was like a dead person. At one point, I grabbed my leg to push, and appologized to my mom. I thought I was grabbing her arm, but no, it was my own flesh...my own super numbed up, and no bodily controlled flesh......so weird.

Since I was the only one who had a baby that day on the entire floor, we got first class treatment to our recovery room. I was wheeled in the bed with my sweet baby like I was Cleopatra. We waved, we blew kisses, there was a trail of rose petals behind us; they played the baby sound that goes through the entire hospital when a baby is born....it was bliss.

We got to our room; my husband organized all of our crap, I fed the bird, and we turned on the Bachelor. I knew that I needed to pee soon. I remembered that from last time. I remembered the lady telling me that I had to pee or else get a cathader, so I made myself go! This time I wasn't even about to be threatened with that. Things were still going fairly well. My epidural was wearing off, and I finally thought I could get up and go to the bathroom, so we called the nurse since I was under strict instructions to not, and she repeated NOT get up without her. She came in. and helped me to the bathroom. I was walking, barely, with a slight uncontrollabe bounce in my knees. I probably wasnt quite ready to walk, but we had already made it halfway. This is when the "unfortunates" start. Here you are, in that nasty hospital gown about to sit on a toilet fitted with a bucket to catch your pee. I sat down and heard a someone peeing.....oh, it was me. I asked the nurse, "am I peeing", and she looked at me like, you poor stupid thing of course you are peeing....who do you think that is? I'm sure that's what she wanted to say, but she just smiled and nodded.

You have to pee in the bucket for the first 3 times so they can regulate your fluids. This is always a surprise to your husband who goes into the bathroom, and almost pees in the bucket before deciding to just use the one down the hall......heaven forbid you touch that thing, or anything else in there for that matter because the bathroom is outfitted with the "pee bucket", and a little cart full of maxi pads, mesh undies, epifoam, tucks pads, antiseptic crotch spray, and frozen infant diapers that act as crotch ice packs. All very sexy things, and very fun for guys to see. I'm sure I looked so fab in the mesh panties while scooting to the bathroom with my hospital gown open in the back.

If you're modest, don't have a baby because in the hospital you will have strangers, looking at your butt, touching your boobs and helping you shove them in your newborn's sweet little mouth. I met one of my nurses while I was sitting on the toilet taking a sitzbath. I was a vision I'm sure with my hospital gown hoisted up around my shoulders as I sat there with my chin resting in my hand held up by my elbow on the handicap "oh shit" bar. Those poor nurses see you at your worst, and I mean WORST!

After the first sleepless night, you have a visit from the pediatrician on call, and I just knew that it would most likely be one of the hot guy pediatricians that I used to call on when I was a pharmaceutical rep. I knew that there was really no way that I was going to be visited by one of the weird agoraphobic trolls that I called on, and boy was I right! Thank goodness I got myself up and was able to brush my teeth and at least wash my face and put on some lipgloss before we were visited. I had just got back into bed when we heard a knock on the door, and in walked Dr. Hotass Booker. I knew it!!!!!

He took one look at me, and said, "hey, I know you!". I smiled and said hello. He check out Zady and had only wonderful things to say about her. This was great about Zady, but even more stressful for me because I had to make sure that I wasn't nursing the bird next time he walked in to check her.....I would die!!!

Yes, you have nurses looking at your hooha, and then the doctor comes in to see the aftermath at one point...it's just all so gross! And it's not easy looking cute for your big walk to the car with your new baby girl. It's not easy to walk like you don't have a giant maxipad on, and maybe one of those giant ice packs too! Here's my one pearl of wisdom for the hospital exit....take everything you can get your hands on! Take the diapers, the cloths, a baby blanket, those fabu mesh undies, pads, foam.....take it all, and ask for more for the road if you can. You will thank yourself when you get home!

Special Delivery II

So after the huge fart, my parents showed up, and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth......no I didn't fart out of my mouth, but I felt compelled to tell them of my embarrassment. My dad's response was, "was it a good one?" My husband laughed, and my mom tried to look shocked and embarrassed as to say that we don't usually do that. Well, if you know me, you know that we usually do, but I wasn't feeling close enough to my male nurse for him to know that yet.

Anyway, so my dad did ask if I was sure that it wasn't my phone that farted.......hmmmmm......why didn't I think of that!? I downloaded the Atomic Fart app onto my IPhone as soon as I walked out of the AT&T store, so I totally could have blamed it on that. Dammit! I showed Ed the app, and he thought it was great! We decided to play a trick on my straight laced doctor when he came in to check my cervix. If I remember correctly we pulled the "Sleeper" out for him. He tried to act like he didn't hear it, but then knew something was up when Ed and I were dying laughing! Surprisingly he had the same app on his IPhone, and was prepared to retaliate, but his wouldn't pull up. :)

After that, it was time to mess with the anesthesiologist. My contractions were getting to the unbearable point, and my husband reminded me that pain was not necessary, and Ed reminded me that it would take about 30 minuted for the Anesthesiologist to get to our floor with all of his stuff. I decided to cave and ask for the deadening. Supposedly this guy was a real jokster, and would love some fart noises, so we made a plan! I was up for anything that would take my mind off of the pain that had now moved up on the pain scale to a level 8. He strolled in with his "cart o drugs", and asked me if I had ever had an epidural before....that's when I gave him the sleeper. It was perfection! I did it right when he told me to lean forward.......it was sooo loud and awesome! He stopped dead in his tracks, and then we couldn't help it....we died laughing! He loved it! In fact, he thought it was so funny, he told some funny story the entire time he was giving me my epidural. I remember last time the man was very quiet and serious, and told me things like, "now you will feel a little sting, and some burning, and now a cold rush." This guys, well, he just told jokes. I don't remember any of them because I was having contractions that I could still feel at this point.

I love it when it's time to get your epidural, and it's imperative that you stay absolutely still when they are inserting the giant needle on top of your spinal cord. This is always so easy to do when you are having a terrible level 8 contraction that makes you want to shit twice and die. Thank goodness Ed was there to hold me like a straight jacket as he pushed my shoulders down and helped me round out my back for the massive injection.

After that, they had me lay on my side and wait for the drugs to do their thing. This was when my parents and my brother stepped out for some lunch. I tried to take a nap, but I could still feel everything on my right side.....left side, not so much, but right side......sucked! Ed had me turn over on my other side in hopes that this would redirect the drugs into the right side of my body.....so I laid there......in pain......it didn't work. This was when things got a little scary. Zady's heart rate was dropping way too low during every contraction. I knew it was serious when Dr. B showed up in my room trying to act like he wasn't short of breath from the long sprint through the hospital. They didn't tell me much, they just made me put on an oxygen mask and concentrate on my breathing. Ed also thought it was a good idea to have be sit up. I was much more comfortable that way, and Zady was much happier that way too. Her heart rate was still dropping a bit, but not quite as much.

After the adornment of the mask, they checked me out and decided that I could push soon. That's when Ed gave me the "choice". Wiggle the needle in my back in hopes of redirecting some of the drug into the right side, push, or have the anesthesiologist come back and give me epidural number two. I decided to try the wiggle, and it didn't work, so we had the dude come back for a drug repair. The jokester was gone by this point, so we had a newer, younger guy come in who was much more serious. He did say, as soon as he walked in, "I heard about you!" He was fully prepared to get messed with, but I was kind of in no mood since I was having an easy labor only on one side of my body.

He had me sit up, and we tried the whole thing again. He was really nice, and totally prepared to give the first guy some shit for messing up my epidural. He said, "you are in good shape, and you aren't 300 pounds, so there is no excuse for the first one to not work." Apparently the first guy was "the epidural man" who never messes up, and looks down on those who do, so he was going to get it for sure from everyone.

So, after my second epidural, I was finally ready to push. Ed sat me up as high as he could and told me to get my game face on. Right as we started the first push Salt and Pepper's Ah Push It started on my Ipod. It was perfection! I pushed about three times before they put my legs in the leg canals and called in the "welder", I mean, Doctor. He totally looked like a welder with his full face clear welding mask. It's enough to make a poor girl think she's going to explode and the baby is going to shoot out across the room with the placenta in tow......okay, that was really gross, but so true.

I pushed two more times, and there she was! I didn't even have time to break a sweat! She was so beautiful and fabulous! She weighed 7pds 15oz, and she was 20 inches long. Her head was nice and round, and she didn't even look that much like an ugly alien newborn. I loved every second of her when they handed her to me. Ahhhhh, childbirth......how blissful! Huh!

And thus starts the aftermath.........

Special Delivery

Hi everyone! I'm back! It's Sunday night, and I had the beautifully fabulous Zady Wren on Monday at 3:26 in the afternoon. That's right; the delivery was fast and furious, and everything that I hoped for. It all started with a fabulous dinner at my favorite restaurant, Uchi. It's a swanky sushi bar in Austin that is always crowded and always delicious. I strolled in dressed in my fab coat with my beautiful little Chanel bag over my shoulder ready to eat sushi and champagne. We sat at the sushi bar and ordered tons of wonderful rolls from Justin the sushi maker. I had a glass of my favorite bubbly, and was glad that my back was turned to most of the restaurant patrons since I was obviously pregnant in the sushi bar drinking a glass of champagne. I did feel like I was getting the stink eye from people, but really in truly the patrons in that establishment would most likely champion my last meal.

After that we headed to Georgetown to spend the night with my Aunt and Uncle. I got some pretty good sleep on their tempurpedic mattress, and woke up to an exciting day. There was only one hiccup in the morning. My aunt told me that she usually eats cereal over plain oatmeal with blueberries for breakfast.....sounds yum, so I totally looked forward to it. I woke up, got dressed: makeup, hair, cute outfit, and then headed to the kitchen where I was met with the explosive diarrhea breakfast of champions. The cereal was Fiber One, the yogurt was Activia, and the blueberries, well......those were the only non "help you shit" food in that concoction. I smiled and thought, oh well, I guess I won't be the first. I've never had Activia before, and I don't need to eat Fiber One, so I was a bit concerned, and wondered if I should warn my nurse of the impending explosion that could take place. Hmmmm.

We got the hospital and were checked in by the two nicest ladies in the world. Their excitement was palpable, and it was like it was jumping off of them and landing on me. By the time we got up to the Delivery Floor I was like a giddy little girl, well, a giddy big girl. We walked by the desk and were greeted with a friendly familiar smile. It was Ed, the man that we requested to deliver Pigpen. He did our hospital tour over a year ago, and we really loved him. As we walked past him, I thought to myself, "I would be the luckiest girl in the world if I could have him as my nurse." I figured it was definitely not going to happen, and that some other lucky girl had already snatched him up. An Asian lady greeted us as we we emerged from the security door, and motioned us into our room like an tour guide from Disney. She mumbled something in broken English, and I thought, "oh good Lord please don't give me a nurse that I can't understand." The Lord heard me and in popped Ed. She introduced him like he was a celebrity in labor and delivery, and we were both sooooo happy.

We took a few funny photos as our excitement levels grew and grew....Ed came in the room when I was laid out on the windowsill in a sitting position, with legs out, one knee up, arms behind my back supporting me, just like my 8th grade basketball picture. He laughed and insisted on taking a photo of the two of us before I had to change into the fabulous designer hospital gown. Once you put on that gown you start to realize the heaviness of the situation, and the reality of the task at hand. That's when it really starts to set in that you have to push a small child out of your hooha.

So, I was laying in the bed answering some questions about my medical history and general info.......no IV yet, no drugs, no excuses. I say no excuses because I was laying there and answering questions when one of the loudest most horrible farts slipped out with no warning. My eyes grew big, my heart beat kicked up a few notches, and I could feel my face growing hotter and hotter. I couldn't ignore it, and neither could he! It was so ridiculously loud! I looked at him with my wide eyed red face and said, "holy crap! Excuse me......that was terrible." He said, "don't worry, it happens all the time." I responded with a, "yeah, but not to me....I don't usually just fart in public like an 80 year old man." I was absolutely mortified.......I was laughing and my eyes were welling up with tears as the embarrassment and hilarity of the situation set in. That really set the tone for the day..........the giant loud fart!!!!

Delivery Anxiety

So we are about to head to Austin for the Delivery. I just took a shower and put on the best costume for the day. I have on my really cute black sleeveless shirt from Destination Maternity. It has ruched sides and a ruffle collar that sticks up ever so fabulously. With that I have on my favorite maternity jeans, some turquoise Betsey Johnson socks, suede Ugg high heel clogs, and over it all I have my super chic Cadeau Brocade long maternity jacket; it is cream and gold, and so fab. Of course I will wear my rabbit fur scarf and off white lambskin Chanel wallet on a chain over top with my new plastic tortoise shell Ray Ban Aviators.

Don't worry, I'm not wearing this to the hospital. My husband and I are going up to Austin the night before the delivery to eat at Uchi and stay with my Aunt and Uncle in Georgetown. I'm just waiting for him to get out of the shower and then we are off on our journey. I did pack my bags, and I decided on one Ellen Tracy gown, a cozy robe, some fuzzy cozy socks, flip flops for the shower, a regular tank, a nursing tank, and one more PJ set. We will see if I actually wear any of that.

My arrival and departure outfit is about the same. Black Fila pants that are soooo comfy yet tight and flattering, Rose colored Michael Stars long sleeve T, and a cute black pleated trapeze jacket with a hood. My departure outfit is the same, but I plan on changing the shirt to a gray long sleeve Michael Stars that is a little more flowy. My rabbit fur Mukluk boots will be the footwear of choice. Hopefully Zady and I will walk out of there with our heads held high......well, mine will be held high, and hers will be supported by my left upper arm as we ride in the wheel chair down to the drop off area. High hopes folks....high hopes.

I guess right now I am sitting in my roller coaster car at the very tip top of the ride. I'm excited; I want to cry for no reason at all; I'm not wanting to leave Pigpen for three days; I'm trying not to think of pushing her out of my hooha. So many things are going through my head right now. This is why I have to concentrate on the costumes of the day. This helps with the anxiety. The anxiety of the unknown. I haven't been walking because I want her to come on Monday so my doctor can be there, but I can't help to wonder if I'm going to kick my ass when I get there tomorrow, and they tell me that I am still at 1cm. I wish I could check, but yeah right....not going there! I just hope everything goes smoothly and wonderfully.

I made a playlist for the day, but my best friend isn't going to be there. I am super bummed about that. We tried our hardest, but it just didn't work out....she is coming next weekend though. Last time she was the reason it was fun. We danced....well she danced, and I bobbed my head since I was numb from the waist down. We sang, we rapped, we laughed, and she coached me through the entire thing. She is going to start doing that for a living since she is so good at it. We will try and Skype, but it won't be the same.

My sweet husband called her yesterday for some pointers, but I don't even think he knows the words to "Push It" by Salt n Peppa, and well his dancing ability, let's just say......well......nothing. My friend Sara sent me a message of encouragement, and told me that I'm about to learn how to cook, pee, and walk around while I breastfeed this time since I have a 20 month old that is bound and determined to get into everything. I never walked around last time I nursed. Speaking of nursing.....I would like to apologize right now to my poor little nipples. They really have no idea, and I'm sure they have blocked it all out of both of their little minds. The Parana biting sessions of nursing past that is. They are about to get a rude rude awakening, and for that, I feel terrible. I would also like to apologize to my nether regions for whatever takes place tomorrow, and then I would lastly like to apologize to my sweet husband for having to see that and still love me as much as he did when we first met.

Oh the anxiety of the unknown......keep positive though. Tomorrow I am going in with a positive, no nonsense, get her done, kind of attitude. Game face will be on, and baby will come fast and fabulous. That is the plan!

Packing the Bag

This has been looming over me for about a week and a half now. Dr. B told me that it is a good idea that I pack a bag for the hospital since I'm 1 centimeter dilated. How big is a centimeter anyway? I stayed at 2 centimeters for about 3 weeks last time, so who really knows. I do need to pack up my never full bag though. So here's the question......what the hell do I need?

I remember last time I packed up my shiny new Chanel diaper bag with so many unnecessary baby essentials. I think there was even a bottle in it.....how stupid! I also brought several outfits to wear in bed as I greeted all of my visitors. I had a cute new robe from Anthropologie, some fabulous little PJ pants embellished with coral flowers, also from Anthro, and so many other cute yet cozy tops to wear. Did I put one of them on? Hell no! I stayed in that hideous hospital gown the whole time. I loved it because I could shimmy my sore ass into the bathroom with no shoes on......the cute fluffy spa flip flops I brought were always on the wrong side of the bed when I had to go, so I was in a "fuck it" mood.....planters warts smanters warts....I could give a shit.

Anyway, I would shimmy into the nasty hospital potty and start the process. I would untie the nasty gown that some scank probably wore a week ago, then I would twirl it up and hoist it up around my neck like a scarf, then I would attempt to hover, then just give up, but it was great.....my neck was kept warm, and nothing had to touch the nasty floor except of course for my bare feet. I was in a fog the first night and the next day. I did shower and fix myself up, but I decided that I would stay in the mesh underwear and hospital gown for the duration.

It's hard when your world has been turned upside down. I had to push something way too big out of something way too small, and then I had my poor precious funbags attacked by a baby parana all whilst staying in a weird room that looked like a sad excuse for a Drury Inn. No sleep, no clue, no nursery.....it was crazy! Thus, I had way too many things that I didn't even use! I remember that my friend Amy brought me a cozy blanket...that was the best thing ever. The hospital room, though big and private was....well......a hospital room that had been updated years ago. The sheets were not Egyptian cotton, so the blanket was a Godsend. I liked having my robe to cover up the back of my fabulous hospital gown, and I liked having my own pillows.

Thus, what should go in the bag? So far I have a pair of flip flops, 3 Odwalla bars, some Medela Nipple cream, a sample of L'Occitane super rich moisturizer, a pair of socks, and a stupid moist towelette by Prada that I got for free, oh and I think there is a hotwheels or two in there from Pigpen. That doesn't sound like good planning does it?

Waste Not Want Not

Who said that anyway? What does it mean exactly? Are they really suggesting that you should never get anything new until your old thing runs out? If that's the case then my sweet little Zady Wren will be wearing PJ's with dump trucks on them. How traumatizing! I will say; it's not easy being a "green" fashionista. I try to not bring too many things into my house without taking some things out. Okay, that is mostly a steaming crock of poo, if I'm being totally honest, and well, it never really is "totally" is it? I will say that our little cabin in the woods is not palatial by any means, so by that, I am forced to be conservative.

I did find a nice resale shop in Boston that will take my clothes and sell them to others who will love them just as I did. Good bye white leather hobo bag by Coach that I bought in Chicago on the Magical Mile (or whatever the hell it's called). So long red furry Kate Spade that came from Saks several years ago....I know you had fabulous leopard lining, and you were very classy Jackie O looking, but bottom line is, you were just too itchy under the arm to stand, so someone else will love you just as I did....hopefully more. Note to self....call Resale shop about my check. I probably made $16. Always hope for the worst, that way, when it's really a check for $24.67 you can kick your Louboutin flats up in excitement!

You may wonder, what the hell I'm talking about? How did this come about? Well, I'll tell you! I want a damn IPhone so bad that I just can't stand it anymore!!!! I am about to have a baby in 9 days, and there is a nursing app, and a diapering app, and so many other apps that will make my new baby girl experience so much easier. I need it! I haven't bought it yet because I don't want my husband to think I am a spoiled brat that just needs more and more and more. We bought our Blackberry Pearls at the same time, but the back is falling off of mine, and there are several missing pieces....it, is an embarrassment to my new, just got for Christmas, white quilted Chanel wallet on a chain. My poor phone used to have a rubberized cover on it, but Pigpen managed to hide that somewhere in our house. I turned that damn place upside down to find it, but was not successful. This was back when he could only say, "car", so there was no sense in asking him where he put it. I'm sure I'll find it one day in a pair of boots or something.

Still, I want an IPhone!!! Did you know there is an app called IFart? It has 19 different fart noises to play at your leisure and literally laugh your ass off. I need that! My ass has grown considerably with this pregnancy, so not only will the IPhone help me keep track of my newborn's nursing schedule, it will help me get my small ass back.....booya! What more could he want. With a helpful mechanical friend to get me through the newborn fog of being a mom, and a smaller ass.....I will be way less bitchy. Oh, I hope he's reading this. If he is....maybe he will drive to the AT&T store right now and get me that damn phone!

You see, I can't ask him for it since I got the military style jacket that I wanted from Anthropologie for Christmas, and then there is the ever coveted, wanted it for at least a year now, tried to figure out several ways to weasel it out of him, White Lambskin Chanel Wallet on a Chain with the pewter chain strap and 255 closure. I love it beyond words!!! Don't tell him I am still obsessing over the Turquoise and gold Virgin Saints and Angels Rosary Necklace at Ella Blue, or the Judith Ripka evil eye bracelet, or the quatrafoil gold Tiffany key with the 30 inch chain. I should be happy with the Chanel bag and never want anything else for at least a year right? According to men that doesn't sound absolutely absurd, but to the true Fashionistas, we know that is just as hard as walking over a bed of hot coals with no Prada Flats to shield our sweet pedicured tootsies from the fire!