Happy (Almost) New Year!

So, I only have a few more hours until 2007. I have to say that I'm really glad that 2006 is drawing to a close. It hasn't been the greatest year for me and leaving it behind is a very good thing. Hopefully, 2007 will be better. I was thinking about a resolution for the new year. I made two of them last year, and I actually did a pretty good job of keeping them.

It's kind of crazy to think that not too long ago, we were preparing for the infamous "Y2K" and here we are now, seven years later...where has the time gone? Seven years ago, I was at my boyfriend's--now my husband's--house and I distinctly remember that I was wearing flannel pajamas and a pair of ridiculous toe-socks that are blue and fuzzy. I affectionately call them my "Grover Toes" socks. Anyway, as Y2K got closer, the minutes ticking by, I remember thinking that if I died, at least I'd be comfortable. And, I got kind of a perverse kick out of thinking that some life form would find me in a gazillion years and have no idea what the hell was on my feet. Hahahaha! I still have the socks, by the way.

So, Happy New Year ya'll. Let's make it one to remember.

Reflections

I've had a wonderful year with you, my dears. Thank you, Victoria, for making me laugh Raspberry Ice on my white pants and loving cream soda; Catherine, for getting locked in a cemetery with me and the story of how one man's blue is another man's purple; Martha, for so many things, like finding those clothes that I needed...and nearly making spaghetti come out my nose yesterday.

I love you!

Happy New Year!

Martha's Mojo Box

Do you remember the commercial from Helzburg Diamonds for Christmas--I think two years ago? It was these guys strutting around with burgundy boxes and the words to the music went something like, "I got a mojo box." Well, I got a mojo box this past weekend. But my box didn't contain diamonds or any kind of jewelry. It started with a pair of boots from Payless.

Since becoming a mother, I have gotten to be very practical in my choice of dress. For example, all pastels have been relegated to the back of my closet. Why? Pastels show things like baby barf and snot and strained peas. Black is also a bad idea (see reasons under pastels).

My wardrobe consists of casual and business clothes, and other than my jeans, most of my clothes are shades of brown, gray and khaki. You see, unlike pastels and black, colors like brown, gray and khaki conceal baby stains very well. This practicality has also extended to my shoes. We all know I am a shoe-whore. I can’t help it. I love shoes. Strappy sandals, high heels, ballet flats, tennis shoes, rugged, lug-sole work shoes, and of course, boots. However, in the past year and a half, I’ve worn mostly flat sandals, tennis shoes and rugged work shoes. It’s rare that I wear a formal dress shoe unless I have a meeting. Prior to this past Saturday, I couldn’t tell you when I last wore hard-sole shoes just for the heck of it.

All that changed when I went to Payless on Saturday, frantically looking for a pair of black heels for a Christmas party I was attending that evening. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a sassy little pair of tri-color brown boots. I wasn’t looking for boots, but they practically jumped off the shelf and dug their heels into my eyeballs, screaming “Try me on and purchase me you big shoe whore!”

I did try them on. Ooooooh. They were so comfy. And they looked stellar with my jeans. So I bought them. And I bought them in black, too…in addition to the heels I needed for the party.

I’m wearing the brown boots right now. I love that strong clack-clack-clack sound when I walk down the hall. I feel powerful. And sexy. I’ve also gotten four compliments today on how I look. I also got two dozen roses from my husband. The only thing different is the boots—I’m wearing faded jeans and a brown turtleneck sweater. Nothing fancy. But the boots have given me a little boost of much needed confidence and it’s obvious to everyone. There’s that universal, “Hey you look really good today. Did you do something different?” Of course I did something different. I got my mojo back!

Those Magic Moments

We've all had them. What's yours?

I had a magic moment last night. It was like it was custom-made-to-order. Perfect. My little girl was in her blue flannel jammies, ready for bed, and she looked up at me with those huge, soulful brown eyes and said, "Rocka, rocka mommy? Please?" Her tiny little finger was pointing the rocking chair in the corner of her room.

I sat down and she climbed into my lap, clinging to her three little snuggle-bears that she sleeps with at night. "Book?" she asked. She selected one of my favorites--Mommies are for Counting Stars. I read it to her and she sighed one of those sweet little baby sighs. One of those sighs that says everything in the world, right at the moment, is right and good.

Her warm little body was snuggled against mine, her bare toes curled against my legs and her head planted firmly under my chin. In a few moments, her breathing changed, slower and deeper and her body got heavier. Sleep had come upon my little girl.

And that was my magic moment. The soft sound of her breathing in my ears, her silky hair against my neck, that wonderful clean baby smell, and the peaceful smile that graced her face as she slumbered. It was my magic moment, and my heart made a memory that I will forever carry with me.

Secret Wishes

I know you have some.

I have some. These are the secret wishes that are never talked about, not the grand, nor abstract, platitudinous remarks for "world peace" and the like one overhears uttered by strangers while waiting in line with the children to visit Santa. These wishes are the big ones, not the realistic ones, like gloves, or jewelry, or books, or slippers that end up on the list given to friends and family. These are concrete, not the overwhelming hopes parents have for their children's health and happiness, and future ability to pick up after themselves--which I do have, along with the hopes for goodness to always conquer badness, but that is not what this is about.

Here's my secret wish list:

• a piano (I miss having music at my fingertips)
• an extra 150 sq feet of living space and a powder room, without having to move
• the wood floor in the kitchen refinished, but kept the same color
• a part-time scullery maid
• gorgeous, sexy, and therefore expensive, shoes to wear to the playground (or anywhere)
• a six month supply of daily ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches

Any secret wishes you want to share?

Dreams and Wishes

I was watching Cinderella with my little girl over this past weekend—after a brief tantrum in the kitchen because she said she wanted a snack and when she said “Relly,” I thought she meant celery. Ooops. Turns out she wanted to eat yogurt and watch Cinderella.

Anyway, you know how right at the beginning, there’s that whole little dance and song about how “A dream is a wish your heart makes/When you’re fast asleep.” Do you think that’s true? Sometimes I wonder. See, I have some crazy dreams that in no way would I want to come true. But others…others make me long for a different kind of reality.

Ice skating. I think my heart is telling me I should have been an ice skater. Several times every month, I have vivid dreams about ice skating. Sometimes it’s a very involved dream, with different people and places and events, but it always ends the same. I’m gliding over the ice, graceful, swan-like, elegant, impervious to everything around me. And then I start to spin, slowly at first, my arms up over my head, my skates barely touching the ice, then faster, faster until everything around me is a blur and momentum gradually pulls my arms down and I’m lost in a sea of white silence. Then, the music I’m skating to suddenly stops and I throw my arms out and take a bow to an audience that’s not there.

Odd. And yet, if I look deeper into it, maybe my heart isn’t telling me that I should have been an ice skater. Maybe the wish my heart is making while I’m fast asleep is that I wish my life wasn’t spinning in a million different directions. I don’t know.

What I do know is that I look forward to that dream because I always wake up feeling a little happier than I did when I went to bed. And that’s a good thing.

Now I need to think about the dreams I have of becoming a Rockette…

The Importance of Having a Clean Kitchen Sink

But you may already know this

It is good to have a clean kitchen sink, especially if you have to vomit. If you just can't dash fast enough to the bathroom...or if your son is in there peeing the Nile...

It would be bad to have to throw up on dishes in the sink.