Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater

With the last four weeks of summer vacation upon us in the "Summer That Never Was" for most of New England, you think someone at BJ's marketing may have rethought the effectiveness of this month's circular - cuz right now, I'm ready to call BJ's and tell them where they can put their pumpkins!!

Spinning Gold

I have two modes of decision-making:

Think about it forever and do nothing.
Do it now!

There's no in between. No, "Maybe I should let this sit and revisit it next month." If I don't move on it, it doesn't happen.

So when I was sitting in the local spa a couple of weeks ago staring at the walls, (literally...my hair color was setting) I noticed something. The salon had 2 of the 3 colors in my house. Green. Maroon. The third color the owner incorporated was this mustard gold...and it looked great. I asked the receptionist Kristen if she could ask the owner if she knew the color. She said she'd let me know.

In the meant time, I kept thinking: we should do that! We could go Gold. I was sick of such a green kitchen - end to end Sage. When we moved in the walls had been painted pretty Tuscan colors and I loved all of them. But after 5 years I was done. I was tired of buying prints, vases and candles that look good with green. Gold it was!

While I waited to hear back from the salon, we went to the local Sherwin Williams store and grabbed some sample chips to hang on the wall - you have to go a few days of sun/rain/light/dark to be sure you like it.

We selected our color: Empire gold

Pretty cool, right? Imagine my surprise when I heard from Kristen who says, "I found out that color for you. Empire Gold."

Yeah, I'm good. Go ahead. You can clap. What are the odds that the color on her walls came from Sherwin Williams AND it was the one we randomly picked off some color wheel?

So off we go:




Stay tuned for the final masterpiece!

Neigh, neigh, whinny

If anyone is looking for help getting their stable or barn in order, I think I have someone I can recommend:



We are keeping Schleich in business.

Days of sweating gone by...

Remember sweating? Like really sweating? Before all offices, buildings, cars and homes had 24/7 air conditioning. The days when a big box fan would move hot air into hotter rooms but were so fun to talk into because "Hello" ended up sound like "Hebbbblllooooo".

I remember sleeping in the attic. We had a Cape style home and the attic was turned into two bedrooms for my brother and I. Guess what? Heat rises isn't a myth. And sun beating down on your roof can do wonders for the top floor of a house. But we had the trusty window fan. The metal one. That sounded like a small jet engine but when it blew air on the beads of sweat, you *almost* believed you were cool.

How about those vinyl seats in all the cars? With some sort of waffle pattern that would imprint on the back of your leg, that had just been sunburned at the beach, where you smothered yourself in baby oil and followed the suns direction from left to right all day long for the best "tan". Remember how sweaty you were on the ride home? Stuck in traffic (dare I add the "smoking cigarettes" into that scenario because that certainly helped cool me down, yes sirree).

And how about the local pizza place that served only 4 kinds of soft serve ice cream, but offered 15 different pizzas on a hot day with only a fan bolted to the corner of the wall? Nothing curbed your appetite like watching an oversized, sweaty man removing a bubbly, cheesy slice from the 600 degree oven on a summer's day!

Boy those were the days. Now, I only sweat walking from the house to the car and into the FREEZING cold grocery store. What fun is that??

Draining the reservoir

10 minutes into the routine:

"Honey, only 2 more minutes."

"Awww...I just put air conditioner in my hair."

I know she means hair conditioner. It's the disc / dicks thing. Never gets it right.

5 minutes later.

"Let's go. I said only two more minutes. What are you doing in there?"

"Awww...I just put soap on my body."

5 minutes later.

"I'm not kidding. Let's go. Out of the shower."

"Awww Man!"

This is the routine of my 6 year old in the shower. Can't seem to get in and out in under 15 minutes. What am I doing to do when she's a teenager??

Her brother - maybe lasts 60 seconds.

Keepsake Moment

Thanks Whirlwind! Your blog was the first one I ever won something on, and now you've awarded me my first award.

*blush*

I'm so honored. Now, the pressure is on!! My initial panic set in when I saw you had to pass the award on to 10 other bloggers. Sadly, since most of my waking hours are spent reading and researching blog posts for work that talk of social media marketing and text analytics, it is going to be tough to ask those bloggers to share their keepsake moments. And, I think you had most of the mommy bloggers I follow on your award list so I may have to get creative.

So, let me explain my award responsibility to the 3 family members that read my blog:

The rules of this award state that I need to tell a "keepsake moment" in my life, as well as to pass on the love to some of my fellow bloggers. That's where the "ten of them" comes in. I'll try my best, but that may delay sharing my moment as I scour the internet looking for ten new bloggers.

While many of the keepsake moments in my life could include my children, my keepsake moment has to do with family *before* children. It would be our wedding day.

Almost 9 years ago, hubby and I set out on our adventure as a married couple. I can ASSURE you I was not one of those girls at 10 years old who dreamed of her big church wedding, dressed in a big white flowy gown, releasing doves into the air with a small choir singing in the background. And while that is lovely and perfect for some...it wasn't for me.

In fact, my dress cost approx $300 and was off the rack of a small shop in Maine - no train - no fittings - little fluff. I wasn't going to get a veil but caved at the last minute - there is something princess-like about the veil.

We bypassed the church which is VERY FUNNY thinking back on that now that my daughter is in Catholic school. I just didn't want them involved in my wedding. I couldn't imagine standing, kneeling and praying for an hour. Twenty minutes, max, was my goal.

The ceremony had to happen near the ocean. We were living in Maryland at the time and I longed for the rocky shores of Maine. Turns out my Aunt graciously offered us her home and her backyard, which is beachfront in Maine, and with the help of my sweet Nana pulling some strings in heaven (she had passed 8 months before my wedding) we had a GORGEOUS beach day for a wedding.

But my keepsake moment of the day wasn't how we looked, or where we were or what the weather was that day. It was the joy. The joy inside as I held my soon-to-be-husband's hands and thought of all the ups and downs (and downs and ups) we endured that brought us to that moment. I don't think I ever really believed we'd be married. He had had his share of a marriage that didn't work, and I had decided that being an independent woman was pretty cool. But timing and fate had other plans and on that day, with our parents as our witnesses, as we repeated the words we had written for the JP, I was overcome with joy and I knew it was forever. No doubts. No fears. Just joy. It is my keepsake moment, forever. Oh, and the party that followed was pretty kick-ass if I do say so myself!



OK. Now. Ten bloggers, huh? If it's okay with you, I might change the rules a bit and tag my friends on Facebook that don't blog. I know they'd love to join in and wouldn't get a chance if I kept it to bloggers-only. Plus, I don't think I can come up with 10 new bloggers since you already awarded Chicky Baby, In the Trenches and Fairly Odd Mother. See...I'm already out of bloggers that I follow religiously :)

Freeze!

Wouldn't it be great if you could freeze moments in time, or retrieve them whenever you want so you can do them all over again?

I know in a few years we're really going to miss these moments when our kids won't want to be seen with us - ever.

The vacation 15

When I arrived to college back in 2000 1987 there was all this talk of the Freshman 15. The what? You know - the extra pounds you put on from finding a happy hour every night eating processed foods for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Luckily for me, it was the Freshman -15 because I was so homesick the first semester that food didn't taste good. And the second semester I was so excited to be at school that I forgot to eat. Crazy emotional swings can do that to a person.

No worries, though, because I have more than made up for lost time. In fact, I've discovered the Vacation 15. The 15 times 3 that you gain by eating eggs and corned beef hash for breakfast for 5 days straight (I know...weird food obsession that I refuse to bring into my house but LOVE to have off the griddle while on vacation).

And how about the 3 p.m. sweet tooth that brings all the activities to a screeching halt as you search for the closest ice cream shop, bakery or general store filled with penny candy?

And who can forget the glorious dinners, each one smothered in sauces, fried batter or cheese, (accompanied by several glasses of wine) because as you order it you can quietly whisper "I deserve this because I'm on vacation."

Yes, the Vacation 15 has arrived this year and forced me to rotate between two pairs of big-girl shorts until I can get back to the gym and try to reduce it to at most the Vacation 5 - until next month when we head to the Jersey Shore and do it all over again!!

The woes of little toes

I can't believe I'm writing this. This has been a sore subject my whole life. Where to begin...

Let's just say God did okay with most of the parts of Christine. I wasn't thrilled with the almost-non-existant-breasts when I was younger but when you don't weigh more than 125 lbs at 5 ft 8, it was hard to complain. (Amazing how those fill right out after kids and an extra 30 lbs on your body! High-five to being plump!!)

Frizzy hair. They have products for that.

Freckles. Not the end of the world.

The one issue I have with him, and a pain point my whole life, is that he forgot to finish my toes. Oh, he got the big toes finished. It's the others that were neglected.

In fact, up until about 10 years ago, I would sweat out every summer in Keds sneakers or closed-toe flats. Too embarrassed to expose my little toe digits. Everyone would surely point and laugh, right? So it was best to hide them, I mean what were my options?

See, growing up in Waltham in the 70's and 80's, kids didn't do those sorts of things that little girls do now - pedicures, manicures, facials. Those luxuries were reserved for wives of the local construction company owner - the blue collar rich.

So as I entered my late 20's and discovered I was making my own money - and not waitress kind of money - I splurged. I discovered eyebrow waxing and created two eyebrows instead of one. I tried waxing my upper lip - ouch, ouch and ouch. That little "luxury" didn't last long. And I got pedicures. Glorious pedicures. And once I started painting my sad little toes a splendid Kennebunkport red I let them out...to wander the yards and beaches with other toes...to revel in flip-flops. Rejoice!

But, subconsciously I always knew my toes were unique. If only I could make them a little longer. Toe extensions, perhaps?? Nah. So this week, after years of red or dark red or burgundy nail polish I did the unimaginable - I got a big girl, toenail FRENCH pedicure!



With all the anticipation I was sure those short, stubby, unfinished toes would look long and lush and more toe-like. BUT, as you can see...still short...still stubby...and still dwarfed by the normal size big toes.

*sigh*

So going forward I will do my best to wiggle my toes in delight because what else is a short-toed woman to do? What have you learned to live with? Care to share?

Out of the mouth's of Babes

Fairly Odd Mother's recent post on the 3 swear words her daughter so proudly learned got me thinking to some of the things I've overheard coming out of my own kid's mouths recently. They include:

"Holy Crap!" - daughter when faced with a tricky putting green at mini-golf.

"No valid dicks" - daughter when DVD wouldn't start - we think she meant no valid disc.

"I don't like you! You're mean! I don't want to go to bed! *pause* COME GIVE ME A KISS GOODNIGHT, MOMMY!" - daughter screaming at me after pitching a fit at bed time. No matter how mad she is, there is always a kiss.

"Santa Claus is watching, right? So I don't think she's getting any toys this year. But I've been good, right?" - son after watching his sister pitch a fit at bed time.

"Boom! Bang! Fiyah Powah!" - son's new phrase he learned at school. We assume it's the scene from the Night at the Museum movie.

"I didn't fall out of bed. I was sleeping on the floor because the cat was in my bed." - son this morning when asked why we found him laying on the floor. Our cat just isn't that big. In fact, he has stuffed animals in his bed that are much bigger.

I'm one fortunate Momma

Oh yeah - it's true. I'm one fortunate lady. One hour to the beach, free parking, private restrooms and throw in some one-of-a-kind places to eat lining the streets of Ogunquit, Maine, and I have my own summer paradise.

Thanks Mom and Dad for scooping up that beach house oh-so-many-years ago!


Caffe Prego, Ogunquit, July 2009

Tomorrow...Tomorrow...I love ya

tomorrow...you've got to bring sun some day!!!!

I won't bitch, whine, complain, crank, sob, about the weather. Because I've been doing it endlessly on Twitter (and it's my work account so imagine how thrilled they are with my lack-of-anything-smart-to-say and constant weather updates).

I'm just going to give a shout out to my other moldy friends and wish everyone a Happy July 4th. Bring on the bottle rockets and sparklers, lobsters and BBQ's, beers and wine, chips and salsa, and family moments...oh and bug spray cuz those suckers are going to be HUGE after all this rain!

Cheers!!