Sunday, May 30, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
I'll admit I don't get AS excited for the Half Yearly sale as the Anniversary Sale, when the Nordstrom brothers bring out new fall merchandise at "sale" prices. The Half Yearly is kind of a clearance-y type sale, and tends to be hit or miss.
But as I wrote that, I took a peek myself...for those with flat tummies and thighs that are not adhering to one another, there are some cute little pieces:
This is a bit fallish, but I love the fit:
Good GAWD these are hilarious. I love them. Cripes, maybe this sale is worth investigating after all...
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
(EEEECK! Where'd they go?)
So I doubt I'll actually get them...although it's diverting to think about.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Perhaps raising kids is like making sausage...the process is really offensive and ugly, but hopefully the end product is worth it.
I'll have to keep that in mind for eighty one days.
That and all the postponed umbrella drinks I'm going to suck down in September.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Thursday, May 20, 2010
PVT and I? He slept on the couch; I slept on the floor in my room, certain one of them would wake up.
I shall be very happy when tornado/monsoon season is over in this here parts.
I also think we should take a cue from an enviably well off friend of ours: his tornado shelter is his WINE CELLAR.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
This is my second son, Rory, on his second day of life, June 30, 2004. He is now almost six years old. My pregnancy with him was by far the most difficult: my other babies have been six or six and a half pounds; he was 7 pounds 11 ounces. At 28 weeks, I had a scary bout of contractions with him. At 36 weeks 6 days, I woke up that morning bleeding. My doctor ordered me to the hospital. I started having contractions; by 1pm, the doctor broke my water to speed things up. And my GAWD the contractions after that point. Weenie mother that I am, I ordered my epidural; the first one failed. I don't think I have ever been in more pain, sitting on the hospital bed while the anesthesiologist dug around my spine, suffering from the most extreme contractions I have ever felt. Finally the second one took. When it was time to push - well, I pushed. For two and a half hours. The doctor attempted a vacuum delivery; still stuck. Again; STILL stuck. I had my first emergency c-section...and Rory was born, with an alien cone head from the vacuum suction. PVT was quite concerned when he saw his extraterrestrial son; luckily they put a hat on him before I saw him.
We were in the hospital several extra days because he developed severe jaundice (oh, my newborn jaundice nightmares. That is another post for those of you fascinated by NICU horror stories.). And then we brought home our second son on July 5, 2004.
Rory is a funny little guy. One moment you will want to call the nearest exorcism center because he is possessed by demon spirits; the next minute he is grabbing ice and stuffed animals for his sister, who has crashed into a bookcase.
In any case - all the epidurals, suctioning and slicing were worth it.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
So if you see a pregnant someone tottering around in ugly granny hose and obnoxious flower shoes, just say a silent "thank you" that you have far greater style sense than she does.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
You know I wouldn't usually do this kind of thing, my friends. Sharing a video of my kids? I promise, never again. It is simply for far-flung grandparents and aunts to view.
But I suppose you could take a peek if you are super bored. I was terribly proud of both of my boys, but particularly impressed with my five year old, who, despite being temporarily lost in the song, does not lose his sh*t (as I would have done), but calmly picks up a few measures back and finishes.
I don't think I have two Mozarts or anything, don't worry. But I'm enjoying it while it lasts.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
"Dear Mom Thank you for the food and the new castle you will get me for my birthday. Love Rory."
This castle is a $225 Playmobil monstrosity, replete with knights, dragons and a dungeon, that he saw in a catalog.
Dang, this kid is tricky.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Last night around 10pm I laid out his suit. And suddenly realized my son had NO SHOES to go with the suit. All of his shoes are cleats, or velcro cousins thereof.
Now, if this had been my daughter, I am SURE I wouldn't have forgotten the shoes. In fact, I probably would have bought the shoes FIRST, and coordinated the dress from the feet up, as I often do with my own wardrobe. Shoes, after all, can make or break the outfit - this has always been my philosophy. But my poor son? Bah hah! What an idiot I felt like last night, with no stores open and even the magic reach of Nordstrom.com unable to help me in my hour of need.
Luckily I have my good friend Kappa Kappa Karen to rely on for all sorts of emergencies. I texted her, and she graciously said Keane could borrow her seven year old son's dress shoes. So I got up at dark thirty this morning and picked up the shoes.
Alas, I forgot that her son, a handsome, strapping young man who is almost as tall as I am, has ruthlessly sucked up all of the available growth hormones in Eastern Oklahoma. His shoes were much too big for my smallish son.
So try not to look at Keane's footwear in these photos:
The lesson here, my friends? Footwear is NOT just a woman's issue. I hope I don't forget this truth in two years, when my next son has HIS First Communion.