it's monday, all right.

It’s 8:20 am. So far, today, I’ve done the following:

Left a razor within easy reach of my toddler, who quickly found it.

Yelled at my husband for telling me that I was taking a long time to get ready.

Completely lost my temper with Evan because he would not stop pulling on my hoop earrings when I was holding him. His little face crumpled up and the sad lip popped out immediately. I felt so, so, so bad.

Forgot to brush my teeth before leaving the house.

Like I said, it’s not even 8:30 yet and I’ve already racked up an impressive list of accomplishments.

parents of the year

The scene:
Monday night. 6:55 pm. Dinner table.

The players:
Dave, Evan and me. Dave suddenly remembers that his usual Monday night guitar lesson has been moved to 7:00 instead of 7:30 and yells out "CRAP!"

Evan, sponge that he is, immediately realizes he's onto something and starts saying "Crap! Crap! Crap!" over and over again.

Um, yeah. Awesome.

part-time blogger

So, I realized I hadn’t updated this blog since I came back from Europe. It was a good trip, but I mostly saw the inside of airports, airplanes and conference rooms. And I was right, conference room in Germany = conference room in America. Except the chairs were slightly more hip. And I had forgotten how much I love Heathrow airport. When you’ve got a three-hour layover, it might as well be in an airport that has SHOE STORES. In that scenario, I can’t avoid shopping. Sorry, honey – do you like my new shoes?

Going away always reminds me how good it is to get home. I love home. I love sleeping in my own bed and being able to hear Evan breathing on the monitor. I love having my family around me. I love being surrounded by all my favorite toiletries, because why FOR THE LOVE OF GOD can I never remember to pack hand cream?? I also love having multiple boxes of delicious breakfast cereal at my disposal on any given day. Beans and black pudding are a frightening breakfast for anyone. And California, sweet California, I adore you – you of the excellent weather and smoke-free laws (I’m looking at you, Germany. Look for my dry-cleaning bill, beeyotch!)

So, yes. Traveling is fun, but home is always better.

imac and international travel: unrelated but happening at the same time

Hi, it's me, Bearca... coming to you live blogging from my sweet new iMac! Which, like other major purchases in our household, my husband had to start campaigning for months earlier (or even longer). But, also like other major purchases in our household, once we have it home and all set up, I love it more than life itself.

OK, not more than life itself... but you get my drift.

In other news, I am hopping a flight to Europe today for work. This is good and bad. Good, because hello London and Cologne! Bad, because it means a week away from home, and also since I'll be there for work it's unlikely that I'll get to do any major sightseeing. And let's face it, a conference room in Germany looks about like a conference room anywhere else.

So that's happening. Pardon my absence.

it ain't just a river

Because I am in denial that today is a workday following a lovely three-day weekend, and that I am no longer on vacation in the central coast of California tasting various wines, I will share with you another photo from our trip.

Here we are, after visiting our fourth winery of the day (see how happy we look?). Those are the faces of two responsible adults who have just pawned their toddler off on grandma and grandpa. Oh yeah.

catching up

Oh dear blog, I’ve missed you so. Between the throwing up, the crazy busy work schedule and the recent toddler tantrums that have entered my life, I’ve sadly neglected you.

Yes, you heard me right: throwing up! Remember when I oh-so-optimistically titled my last post “puke-free and proud”? Well, it’s like Whoorl says. When you say something in your blog, the exact opposite thing happens in real life. That very same night, my husband got the stomach virus that Evan had brought home from daycare. I was taking care of him, purchasing Gatorade at the store and la la la, feeling fine myself, until all of a sudden it hit me too. The puking. The fever. The shivering. The complete inability to move.

So yeah, we were nice and sick. Good times!

And I believe I mentioned the tantrums. Yes! They are here. They are teetering on a fine balance between hilarious and ridiculous. I mean, what would happen if my boss told me to do something I didn’t want to do and I immediately started bawling, threw myself on the floor and kicked my feet for a solid 10 minutes? I’d probably lose my job, that’s what would happen. I guess that’s why we here in the good old U.S. of A. don’t insist that toddlers be gainfully employed.

But, on a positive note, guess what I did last weekend? We left Tantrum Boy with his grandparents and went to Santa Barbara for three whole days with my sister and her husband. Yes, three days of decadent food, wine and shopping. It was unbelievable. This photo pretty much represents it all. That’s me and my brother-in-law carrying the gigantic boxes of wine that we bought out to the car.

Because now that I have an almost-two-year old, I need that wine more than ever.

puke-free and proud

Well, I think the barf illness has run its course. He and I stayed home together yesterday and watched movies and TV pretty much all day. Sesame Street? Check. Blue's Clues? Check. Teletubbies? Against my better judgment, check. He had sips of water all morning and then graduated to saltines around lunchtime. Yum.

It was a bummer of a day, with the sickness and the fact that the 5, 6, and delete keys just stopped working on my laptop. And let me tell you, you've got to have those. Who knew how many times a day I used the number 5? And delete, duh, that goes without saying. You've gotta have delete.

Well, now I'm just rambling. I guess I don't have a lot of interesting conversational tidbits due to the fact that my life of late has been filled with cleaning up vomit, watching children's television and my inability to use the delete key.

Maybe I should delete this post.

helpful hint

A solution of 1/3 cup white vinegar and 2/3 cup water is surprisingly effective at removing barf stain and smell from your carpet.

Just FYI.

this week is awesome

It's 9:38 p.m. In the last hour and a half, Evan has thrown up four times.

Now carpet in three different rooms smells like vomit. Apparently 21 month old toddlers aren't very good at aiming into a receptacle for this purpose. (Not for lack of trying on my part.)

The only upside to this is that I taught him how to say "barf" and it's absolutely hilarious.

Might be a bit of a long night.

confessional

Two things happened this weekend that troubled me.

First, I wore Ugg boots out in public when we went to Target yesterday afternoon.

Second, during this very same trip to Target, I was caught without tissues and used the sleeve of my VERY OWN sweater to wipe copious amounts of snot from Evan’s nose. Multiple times.

What’s next, a minivan?

bubblephobia

As it turns out, Evan is absolutely terrified of bubble baths. Go figure! He’s got this little cold right now, and last night I thought putting a little bit of vapor bath in the water might help clear up his nose. After I had put the vapor bath in, he walked in the bathroom and eyed the tub suspiciously. When it became apparent to him that I actually intended to put him in there, he blew a gasket. Tears poured down his little face as he screamed piteously. I finally got him in the water but he cried the whole time, stopping only long enough to throw his hands up and hopefully say “done!” several times.

It was traumatic for everyone, but the good news? I now have an important piece of information with which I can torture him when he’s older. “Hi, college girlfriend. I’m Evan’s mom. Did you know that he used to be afraid of bubble baths?”

Now that’s just mean.

i'm such an underrated blogger!

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fair, to quite fair

This morning I stopped at Starbucks on my way to work. The cashier gave me my change and then said “Have the BEST DAY OF YOUR LIFE!!!!” all peppy-like. I smiled, because that seemed like the polite thing to do, but inside I was rather annoyed. I subsequently became further annoyed because while waiting for my grande nonfat latte with one Splenda, I heard him impart the exact same greeting to no fewer than five people.

It’s not like today is the worst day of my life, but it is definitely not the best. Let’s see the pros and cons, and then we can decide.

Pros
1) I did get to start the day off with a grande nonfat latte with one Splenda.
2) I booked hotel rooms for an upcoming getaway to Santa Barbara (yay).

Cons
1) I am having a pretty bad hair day.
2) I have a zit right on my nose that seems in no hurry to disappear.

Um, yeah. Kind of a wash. Sorry, Starbucks barista/cashier, it seems that your overzealous greeting will not be changing my life for the better today.

all over but the shudderin'

FYI, blogging more is not on my list of New Year’s resolutions (could you tell?). In fact, I have made no New Year’s resolutions at all, other than (drum roll please) to not let food rot in my refrigerator. I hate it when that happens. So, that’s my resolution. Actually, my tagline for this year is really something like “2007: Lower Your Standards!”

And in the spirit of this, I need to tell you about something incredibly disgusting that happened yesterday. We were getting ready to go run errands after Evan’s nap, and I was in the kitchen packing up some snacks for the diaper bag. I grabbed a sealed package of small boxes of raisins out of the pantry and started tearing open the outer wrapping. I saw a few small white things drop onto the counter. I don’t know what I thought they were, but I was not overly concerned until I noticed that The. White. Things. Were. Moving. And not only were they moving: THEY WERE MAGGOTS.

I freaked out and threw them into the trash. Dave jumped into action and began spraying down the counter with multiple antibacterial compounds. In about ten seconds we had full containment. After a thorough disinfecting and a lightning-fast trip out to the trash bin, it was all over but the shuddering.

The shuddering, in fact, went on for a good long time.

I will sum up by saying that if you start out the year by vowing to a) not let food rot in your refrigerator, and b) not buy packages of raisins with maggots in them, then you know the year can only go up. I may have lowered my standards, but I think even MY standards hover several degrees above maggot infestation.

embarrassment of riches

Oh, hi. Nice to see you again! So, Christmas was a huge success. We hosted, and it was nice to be home on Christmas Day. We made brisket and au gratin potatoes. Delicious. Evan got tons and tons of toys. So many toys, in fact, that he was on overload and only played with about 5% of what he got. Which led me to complain to my co-workers today about all the toys and toddler paraphernalia littering our house.

And then it hit me. I sounded just like Chandler Bing: “Two women love me! My wallet is too small for my fifties, and my diamond shoes are too tight!”

Seriously, come on now. I am sitting at my cushy job in my cushy town COMPLAINING about how many toys my healthy happy child has to play with. This plunged me into a guilt spiral, but also made me realize: I am truly blessed in all the ways that count in the grand scheme of things, and in many others that don’t.

I wish this for you as well. Happy New Year.

a short dispatch from the holiday trenches

It's 9:58 a.m.

I just ate a truffle.

I'm not proud of it.

But it was sitting there, so inviting, and damn if it didn't taste great with my coffee.

I might go eat another one.

And if I do, I promise not to blog about it.

the spreadsheet

Let me tell you about a little piece of holiday joy I’ve found for myself. I have created a massive Christmas spreadsheet that identifies each person for whom I need to buy gifts, as well as miscellaneous holiday to-do items.

Now, the section where I list the gifts to buy has a sophisticated status mechanism. It features separate columns to identify whether the gift has been received and wrapped, and a color coding system to show when that person’s gifts are complete. I cannot tell you the satisfaction I derive from this spreadsheet. It’s very comforting, because It’s.All.There. I refuse to be blindsided by a holiday emergency. I must anticipate all possible scenarios.

Either I am a control freak (highly probable) or I have spent far too long in Corporate America working for The Man (also rather likely).

p.s. I desperately wanted to post a screen shot of my spreadsheet, but since some of the people who read it are family, I cannot. It’s classified!

for the record

I have to say something. It’s nothing that others before me haven’t said more eloquently. But still, whether for posterity, or for the desperate hope that someday Evan will stumble across what I’ve written when he’s old enough to understand it, I need to get this off my chest.

It is simply this: having a child is the best thing I’ve ever done. I never imagined that watching him grow up would be nearly the delight that it is. The funny things he says, the faces he makes, the huge personality emerging from his tiny body – all of it is more than I expected or could have hoped for.

This weekend, he became even more a little person. He’s always quick to demonstrate his feelings about things. Pancakes? Cars? Trains? Balls? All good. And conversely, we all know how he feels about riding in the stroller. (um, not good.) Then last night, I gave him a bath. When it was time to drain the tub I said “OK, time to get out!” He looked at me and said “Bye tubby!” then followed it up with a question, recognizing what always follows his bath: “Diaper?”

Something about the fact that he gets it, that he understands the order of things, that his brain has developed to the point where he knows what’s coming next, just pushed me over the edge. It’s not that I think he’s more intelligent than all other kids (ok, part of me does think that), but it just seems unbelievable that this baby, this once-helpless being, is now a real person who talks and understands and communicates.

I thought my heart would break, but instead it just spilled out in the form of hot joyful tears that I was powerless to stop. And I was so, so thankful.

blogger ate my homework

What up, peeps? Well, earlier in the week I wrote a particularly awesome entry, which Blogger subsequently ate. I hit “publish,” and it published the first three lines and the rest went poof. It was such an awesome entry that I felt that I needed to recreate it. So I did. Then Blogger did the EXACT SAME FREAKING THING again so I was forced to give Blogger the cold shoulder all week.

But I couldn’t neglect you for long. Hi! However, because the universe (also known as Blogger) clearly doesn’t want me to tell you all about how we rented a Duffy boat on Monday night with our friends, and how Evan fell asleep thereby enabling us to have a grand old time with said friends eating pizza and drinking wine, and how I have bought all my Christmas gifts either online or at Costco (um, what? You don’t call it an awesome entry? Whatever.), I am going to go another way with this post.

Instead, I will focus on how we’re going to get a Christmas tree this weekend. And how I am wearing a headband today. And how cute it is when Evan says “Bye Mommy” when I drop him off at daycare. And perhaps, how I intended to get regular Cheetos at lunch today but accidentally ended up with Flaming Hot Cheetos instead, which are evil and must be destroyed.

Consider yourselves up to date on my life.

VIP

I’m happy to report that our LA adventure was a great success. We had an awesome time, and get this:

I saw Paris Hilton.

Swear! I could hardly believe it myself. Also sighted: Nancy O’Dell from Entertainment Tonight, who was very tall and pretty in real life.

And the hotel we stayed in was uber-swanky. So swanky that it was like a cave with suede covered walls and hardly any lighting. It had the best hotel toiletries I’ve ever experienced. It had a lovely and minimalistic flat-panel TV. It had a hip yet comfortable platform bed that reminded me of an extra-fancy futon. It did not, however, have a hairdryer. I guess people who are of this hotel’s caliber simply do not require hairdryers. As befitting the VIPs we are, we got upgraded to a cabana room*. Apparently people who typically stay in these cabanas have oodles of time to allow their hair to dry naturally while enjoying a sun-soaked breakfast with mimosas by the pool. We, on the other hand, woke up late, ran out the door and ate Jack in the Box on the way home.

But hairdryer or no, we had a fantastic time. We bowled, we people-watched, we drank martinis. And did I mention Paris Hilton?

*What actually happened is that our room wasn’t ready when we arrived. So they gave us a better one. Awesome!