And she’s off…

22 Jul

I am excited to report that I accomplished more by 12:30pm today than I did in the past 2 weeks.  I managed to: 

  1. Form a complete thought.
  2. Clean up Maya’s room and the kitchen.
  3. Do a yogadownload.com class and take a 3 mile walk to pick up Ali’s dry cleaning.  (Not impressed?  What about if I say I read a book while walking 3 miles to pick up Ali’s dry cleaning?  Am I multitasker or what?)
  4. Make an enormous amount of headway on 9 separate marketing balances for work.
  5. Memorize my Toastmaster’s speech for tomorrow.
  6. Form another complete thought, and believe me when I say it had nothing to do with what Maya could eat as a snack next.

Are you wondering how this was all possible with my little shadow lurking about?  It isn’t.  

Yes, you guessed it, I sent Maya and her little Dora backpack off to my mother-in-law’s house.  I felt guilty for about half a minute but then I realized she wasn’t exactly shedding a tear over it.  If anything, the relief that registered on her face when she realized she was shipping out was even more impressive than mine. 

I also realized that between our DC trip last week and Maya’s school hiatus this week, the two of us have spent more time together lately than we have in the last 5 years.  I believe I have redeemed myself enough to merit a break from entertaining her. 

Speaking of entertaining, Maya and I were lucky enough to have Lynn join us for lunch yesterday.  This is the fourth time I’ve had the opportunity to meet up with Lynn and I once again feel like I’ve known her forever.  But as is always the case when Maya is around, I was distracted and completely forgot to take pictures of lunch.  I did manage to get one good photo right before Lynn left though: 

Please ignore the nearly dead plant in the background. My green thumb and I? Well...we struggle. Trees, kids...it seems to make no difference.

 

Luckily Lynn is far more organized than me and not only took fabulous pictures of the afternoon but she also put them up on her blog yesterday.  You can check them out here.  

Thank you Lynn for bringing us gluten-free chocolate chip cookies and more importantly, thank you for helping me keep Maya busy…  don’t be surprised if she shows up at your door next week, Dora backpack in hand! 

Want to know the weird thing?  Maya’s been gone all day and it’s been great, but now that it’s bath/story time the house seems empty and I have no idea what to do with myself??

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Living Room Golf

20 Jul

By 8:30 am yesterday Maya and I had already read 3 books, we finished her math “homework,” we Methoded the kitchen, and we both prayed for it to magically be August 2nd when summer camp starts.   

I also answered the following questions:   

  1. Why does my frog shirt reflect in the window?
  2. How come Dad gets to have tea and sugar every morning but I don’t?
  3. Can I watch TV 2 times today?
  4. Can I have a cookie?  (Against my better judgment I will share my answer to this one with you, “Frickin’ A Maya, it is 8:30 in the morning!”)  Sorry, it just slipped out.
  5. Mama, what am I supposed to do now?

At 8:35 am I asked Maya to please give me 5 minutes of peace and quiet so I could close my eyes and count backwards from 1,000.  

At 8:36 am Maya was playing golf in the living room.    

Do you see the scuff marks? I see the scuff marks.

Now normally I’d tell her to stop before she ruins the wood floor but yesterday I was so desperate for a break that I didn’t care if the floor had craters in it by the time she was done channeling her inner Jack Nicklaus.   

At 8:39 am conversation resumed.   

“I’m playing golf with my invisible friends, Mama.”   

“That sounds like fun Maya.  Why are they invisible?”   

“Well we don’t want to bother you while you are doing your work so it’s better if they are invisible and quiet.”   

Even my heart of stone couldn’t withstand that sad little comment.  So at 8:38 am I shut my computer down and tried to appease both Maya and my conscience by taking her to the park for 2 hours, and then by making popsicles with her.   

Nothing speaks to her like food.  

I've resigned myself to a perpetually messy kitchen for the duration of Maya's summer vacation.

Appease Your Conscience Popsicles  

1 peach
1/4 cup of raspberries
1 small banana
1 cup of whole milk   

Add everything to a blender, mix on a high-speed, and pour into one of the cheap $4.99 popsicle molds that abound at Target.   

Not sure how long I can trick her for...she is getting too smart for her own good.

I almost feel guilty when Maya asks me if she can have a popsicle for dessert and I pretend to think about it.  But what I really feel guilty about is that I am already trying to figure out who I can pawn her off on tomorrow so I can actually get through a few work-related emails before I have to troubleshoot the blue screen of death on her Leap Frog again.   

Seriously, how on earth do stay-at-home-moms do this every single day?

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I Don’t Belong Here

18 Jul

As is almost always the case, I am going through severe vacation withdrawal right now.  I am not really sure if this is due to the fact that Maya seems to think we are STILL on vacation and asks me, “What should I do now Mama?” every 5 seconds, or if it’s due to the fact that every time I return to Los Angeles I realize again how much I really don’t like living here.  

Blasphemous, right?  I mean, how can anyone in their right mind possibly hate Los Angeles - a city known for perfect weather and beautiful people?  Well, allow me to list just a few of the negatives of living here: 

  • Skanky girls are a dime a dozen.  I was hanging out at Coupa Cafe with my brother last night and we saw girl after girl attempting to emulate Dita Von Teese, except they were walking down Canon instead of performing at a burlesque show.  Why is it that a good half of the girls out here find it so difficult to put on clothes? 
  • The traffic bites.  Factor in an hour to go pretty much anywhere and you’ll find it is much easier to stay at home.

    • Battling the 405 Freeway is the worst part of living in Los Angeles. Source: Wikimedia Commons/Downtowngal

     

  • Parking bites even more.  It is nearly impossible to get around valet parking your car in this city  – this includes having to valet at my doctor’s office, shopping malls (unless you want to drive around aimlessly for 30 minutes), and of course 99% of the restaurants here only offer valet.  This is a HUGE problem when my husband refuses to let anyone else drive his car. 
  • There are strange/creepy people everywhere.  Just five minutes into the script analysis class I took at CBS yesterday, a guy who knew I was married with a child asked me out, and an obviously stoned lady told me she was attending the class to learn how to “spend less money.”
  • The Beverly Hills plastic surgery clichés are in full force.  In addition to having coffee next to a girl with a freshly bandaged nose, I had the pleasure of dining at Porta Via last night while listening to two ladies compare notes on surgeons as they attempted to chew and swallow without breaking their botoxed faces.  (Note: I have no problem with people getting plastic surgery if they want it, I just have a problem with the whole cliché of them sitting in Beverly Hills chatting about it like they are discussing the weather.)

I am a conservative person in a sea of liberals.  I am a brunette in a sea of blondes.  I am a slightly less shallow person in an ocean of fake people.  I was born on the East Coast and I belong on the East Coast.  Now all I need to do is convince my husband that he doesn’t belong here either so we can finally move out of this city.  

Any ideas how to do this?

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