Time for an Encore?

November 11, 2013 at 10:31 am | Posted in Family, Married Life, Pregnancy Fun Time | 2 Comments
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The other day, my hubs got this in the mail:

Does that cardigan come in men's sizes?

Does that cardigan come in men’s sizes?

And he was totally baffled…. Why would he, a MAN, have received a coupon for a maternity clothing store?  I, of course, have NO idea.

(wink, wink, nudge, nudge)

Now that our dear daughter is eight months old (when did that happen?!?), my husband has started his campaign for a second child.  Well, I say “started,” but he actually brought this up for the first time when she was just six days old, and again when she was three months and six months old.  And I feel lucky to have a partner who loves our little one so much he wants another one.

BUT…

(you knew there was going to be a but!)

I’m not ready!  I want more time for just us three (and our sweet pup, too, of course), my first pregnancy was so hard I’m not sure I’m ready to face doing that again, and geez louise man!  No! 

Like in any disagreement, we’re going to have to find a compromise.  Anyone know how close they are to having men carry children?  Because I’m sure he’d look great in that cardigan. 

What I Learned in San Diego

April 25, 2012 at 10:10 am | Posted in Family, Home Ownership | 2 Comments
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Nota Bene: If you have a weak tummy, skip to the second paragraph. 

When I last blogged, I was sitting in the airport terminal after having tossed my cookies on the Logan Express.  My Mo’s guess (that it was a result of taking ‘roids on an empty stomach) may have worked for that first instance, but the rest of the flight will need further explanation because I ralphed the entire way.  Seated between a very proper gentleman and a 15-year-old boy, I was that girl in the middle seat who got sick over and over and over again.  The one who used every barf bag within a two-row radius, and who grossed herself out, along with most of my fellow passengers, on the flight now known as The Great Disgust of 2012.  I arrived in San Diego exhausted, ill, slightly dehydrated and thrilled to see my besty, even in the state I was in.

Anywhoodles, what I really wanted to talk about today is the surprising insight I had about my parents while visiting Rhymes-with-Tzarina.  Tzarina and I did not make any plans for our visit (other than attending a Padres game).  We hung out, watched silly TV, ran errands, walked her dog and did some apartment decorating.  And then it hit me…

I finally get it!

One night Tzarina was making dinner and I started cleaning her refrigerator door handles (of all things – weird, I know).  She gave me that look – I know because I give it to people, too – the one that says “please don’t judge me; I know I’m not perfect.”  And this realization hit me like a hipster on the latest iGadget: when my parents visit and My Mo cleans my counters or puts away dishes or brings groceries or does whatever she does, when RWFOTB works on my jungle of a yard or makes suggestions about future home improvement projects, it has nothing to do with my inadequacies (of which I have many, though they would certainly contradict that statement in the public domain) and everything to do with how much they love and want to care for me.

What I was doing had nothing to do with critiquing Tzarina (who is amazing) or her refrigerator door handles (which were fine before I even touched them), and everything to do with demonstrating my affection for someone who is the closest thing I have to a sister.

I traveled across the contiguous United States and felt closer to my parents – and that’s what family is all about. 

And because I rarely write anything too saccharine, I’ll bookend this blog with the ridiculousness of my journey home.  Waiting to board the red-eye back to Beantown (cough cough never again cough cough), I noticed the fella standing in front of me was none other than the very proper gentleman who was unfortunate enough to have had to sit next to me en route to SoCal.  He did a double take when he saw me, and, in the most polite way he could, said:

“I hope you’re feeling better… what row are you in on this flight??”

Awkward, people.  Very, very awkward. 

Goodbye, Batphone!

January 31, 2012 at 12:03 pm | Posted in Misc., Office Humor | 4 Comments
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I work at a technology company and pride myself on my technological prowess (well, maybe “prowess” is too strong, but I’m savvy, at least!).  And yet, for years I have been carrying around an old, clunky cell phone in addition to my smartphone.  Witness:

I admit it looks really silly to have both a sleek, modern phone and a circa 2002 clunker.  But it was all because of my parents (also known as “Sarah’s Mo” and “RWFOTB”)!!

Well, that’s not exactly true… what is true is that the ancient cell phone was like the Batphone to me.  My folks were pretty much the only ones who called it, so it was like their exclusive way to reach me (not to mention a local number for them).  It was my tie to my younger years, my link to a simpler time when phones just rang – no games, no interwebs, no email, just good old-fashioned talking (and a small amount of texting). It is also the most reliable piece of technology I’ve ever owned.  After 10 years, it still works like a charm (and has better reception than my droid, just saying).

But it also made me feel foolish.  Why waste money on a second cell phone, especially one that’s so outdated it’s almost cool again (give it another 20 years and it’ll be a collector’s item; until then it will live in my basement)?  And why carry that thing around and look like I’m the kind of person who still calls it the “world wide web” or the “information superhighway” when I’m really a super hip technology geek?

The answer is clear: it’s time to say goodbye to my soon-to-be-vintage flip phone.  It has been decommissioned, made redundant and disconnected.  I am now a one phone gal.  And I imagine this is kind of what Bruce Wayne felt like when he finally hung up the Batsuit.

I feel ya, Batman!

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