Promise You'll Tell?

Yesterday, while in the bathroom at the office I felt like I was in a time warp. Like, hello-and-welcome-to-the-late-nineties time warp. And you would have said so too if the shoes in the stall next to you were black loafers with a 2 inch chunky heel with a square toe and elasticized jersey material. to take it a step further: there was a thin woven leather belt on the ground next to it. I honestly stopped and started flipping through to try to remember if today was a dress-up day and I'd somehow overlooked it. I expressly remember when that was in style, and it would not be fair to say it was 'a few' seasons ago. I fully expected to step out and see full-on mom jeans with a heavy color blocked rugby shirt on top... tucked into said jeans and cinched at the waist.

But instead of waiting around to see, I darted out there feeling shocked and a little guilty for mentally trash-talking someone's unintentional retro outfit. (yes, of course I washed my hands)

Which brings me to this: promise that when the day comes that I am that person dreadfully out of style, even to the point that a new mom who rarely 'dresses up' past yoga pants for the day (yes, work out clothes and I've yet to work out), promise you will tell me. Drop me a copy of last season's Vogue if you can spare it, forcefully clean out my closet, demand I hand over the belt. Whatever it takes. Because a true friend will tell you.

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!

As a fine first official day of not breastfeeding and just hours after returning the symphony breastpump... we learn there is a recall on Similac. Sure, it's 'not a health risk' and it is a 'voluntary' recall by Abbott... but it is beyond disguisting to learn that beetles got into the processing plant and beetle parts could be in the formula. Can I even try to explain how it feels to know you have been feeding your child, snuggled up in your arms, hungry, and you've been giving feeding him small bits of insects that upset his stomach. It shouldn't be surprising that it upsets my stomach, too.

To make matters worse: there is now no formula available since 5 million containers were recalled. So deal with the dagger of knowing your baby has been getting tained food and then figure out what the hell you are going to feed your baby for his next meal. Awesome.

So much for relishing any feeling of 'wow you made it to 8 months breastfeeding. It's a no-brainer that anyone would rather give formula than let their child go hungry. But when I stopped trying (even for the miniscule amount), it felt like a choice. Even though by the end, a 40 minute pumping session only yielded 20ml (when typical feeding might be 200-240mL, 5-6 times a day). But damn if this doesn't feel like lemon juice in a paper cut.

No Pants

This is "No Pants" the friendly neighborhood kitty that will happily accompany you on your run, walk with you down the street, jump up on you pant leg just to say 'hello' or even -if the opportunity presents itself- let himself into your home for a visit.

No pants officially lives down the street, about halfway between our house and our nanny-sharing friends. Which means that every other week I walk to drop off and/or pick up the shorty from his friend's house.

On said walk, I typically see and am greeted by ... You guessed it... No pants.

Given that the Shorty said his first word today, "kitty" and that No Pants was part if his inspirarion- I decided No Pants needed recognition on the blaaahhog

We love you, too, No Pants.

Running in Heels

I hate it when you realize on the drive to the airport at 12:40 that
your 1:30 flight actually leaves at 1:05...

Quote of the Night

This is such a starfish! He's so asexual. No one could really LIKE
him. -Becca

Obsess much?

Is it possible that I am obsessed with cupcakes? The question crossed my mind after our most delightful nanny visited NYC and managed to bring me back a half dozen of my favorite baked goods and a shirt for my son. Seemed like an incredibly generous gift.

And then an insightful and innocent bystander pointed out: "Who would be so crazy for a certain cupcake that their obsession would convince someone else to bring them 2500 miles without having to ask?"

Hmm.... okay. maybe.

Fair Warning

Ticket in Hand

For some reason, I was super excited for our season tickets to arrive today and can hardly believe that kickoff is a mere 17 days away! Alas, the end of summer is drawing near... But not the heat.

I digress...

Excited for the tickets... which we are selling. But that doesn't matter! Because -even if only for a few moments- the arrival of these pieces of cardboard remind me that my favorite season (football) is just around the corner and helps pull me out of my summer slump.

Though it has been years since my last 'real' summer (ironic that it is considered a 'real' summer only prior to entering the 'real' world, when a 'real' summer ceases to exist)... I've had a bit of the end-of-summer blues lately. Or maybe it's the mean reds. Put another way: it feels like it's that last day of summer for the past week or two. In any case, I took a quick swim today at lunch to try to shake it off. But it was the tickets that did the trick.

It's Stripey Here....

..in a primary kinda way." 

 

Crying I'm laughing so hard...  Happy Tuesday afternoon. xxoo

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eQ0VYgU4TPU

 

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Soooooooo 'Austin'

I love it here. It's a town where you can be yourself (a healthier version of yourself, that is) and things are beautiful and people are happy blah blah blahhhh... But every once in a few years I have a moment --where just for a moment-- a brief point in time-- where it's some sort of out of body experience that I see myself and wonder if maybe the soul if the city has taken me over...

As I walked out of the store thinking 'how cool it is that this is The Central Market where it all started. The very first store, how lovely...' When it hit me: I just bought herbs and organic foods while wearing birkenstocks.

What happened to Manolos and Martinis?

Just sayin'