Because time and I have been at odds with one another lately, I’ve had no other choice but to relinquish control on many things.
I kicked aside two pairs of Maya’s socks on my way to the living room because it was quicker than making her move them.
Dishes have been left in the sink overnight. Every night.
Chipotle has been our dinner more than I’d like to admit. (So why are there dishes in the sink? I don’t get it either).
I wore the most wrinkled shirt to work the other day because locating and using the iron seemed like an insurmountable project.
Maya wore a similar ensemble for reasons mentioned directly above. (Plus I maintain that children’s clothing should never need to be ironed.)
Paying library fines is becoming the rule instead of the exception.
We won’t even address my need for a color, cut, and a keratin straightening intervention (any recommendations in NYC are welcome).
You may be wondering: have I relinquished control on Ali’s life as well?
Well, the simple answer is yes. Meaning that instead of addressing the pile of pants he left near the front door (his passive-aggressive hint for me to stop at the cleaners) I simply stepped over them. And I also didn’t point out that his combination of orange jacket + orange shoes = too matchy-matchy.
Although I won’t lie, relinquishing control has been easier than expected because Delta Airlines has been Ali’s primary residence these days.
So a big thank you to Delta, for doing their part to keep the peace.
Blogging experts say that if one isn’t consistent with their blogging schedule then people will stop reading.
As a person who embraces consistency and schedule, this makes perfect sense.
As a person who has been working 1,000 hours a week, this does not make perfect sense.
In any case, I know the world isn’t going to come to an end if nobody is here to read about how I almost died of shock when Ali volunteered to shift clothes from our stackable washing machine to the dryer the other day.
I also know it’s okay if nobody knows he asked me where the dryer was.
I’m sure people can also live without knowing that since my last post Ali has been in Florida (twice), Boston, Washington DC, Las Vegas, Los Angeles (3 times), and is heading back to Florida this week.
Both Maya and I have given up on trying to remember his whereabouts.
And speaking of Maya, I’m sure it’s fairly irrelevant that her smart ass-ness is developing at a rather alarming pace.
Scarily, I almost find myself missing the long, sleepless nights filled with a colicky infant screaming in my ear.
This morning I woke up and decided to take a moment to put together what I hope is a fairly coherent post before I spend the rest of the day pretending that today, Mother’s Day, is going to be remotely different from yesterday or tomorrow.
Because even though this blog isn’t exactly a revenue generating machine, I do love sharing my randomness, and I value every comment left here.
I hope to be back more regularly…for those of you who are still here? Thanks for sticking with me.
My OCD is in overdrive because I haven’t posted in a while. Allow me to catch you up quickly:
Ali spent two weeks in LA, came home for 5 minutes, and took off again for Seattle, and then LA, where he currently is.
I’ve been enjoying the fact that the I have our master bathroom all to myself.
This week I became THAT girl who changes her shoes at work.
I know there’s no excuse for ugly footwear – even during a commute – but I walk miles and miles a day and my feet hurt ALL THE TIME.
I have no other choice.
Maya turned 9 and celebrated with a magic-themed party. She asked for a magician, a puppy, and a pasta bar.
I bought her Garfield comic books in lieu of a pet, served overcooked pasta and shrimp, and called it a birthday.
I got over my guilt and gave our housekeeper the green light to come twice a week.
She uses loads of toxic chemicals (although they have a lovely lemony scent), but coming home to a clean house on Tuesdays and Fridays is worth losing a few years of my life to whatever magic Ajax and Windex contain.
And finally, my credit card was stolen and instead of heading to Bloomingdale’s or Best Buy, the culprit charged up $800 at 7-Eleven.
Ali’s been on a marathon business trip for the last 2 weeks. This means that for the past two weeks I:
- Didn’t move the sugar bowl even once.
- Ate scrambled eggs thirteen out of fourteen nights (we had Chipotle one night…I really lived it up).
- Had our shoebox sized bathroom all to myself.
- Didn’t wash a single pair of someone’s thermals.
- Made the bed in one second flat (the trick is to occupy a tiny corner, don’t untuck the sheet, and use a separate blanket).
- Smashed my foot in a revolving door (this has nothing to do with Ali being gone but I felt the need to incorporate it into this post. Apparently I need a lesson in how to use a revolving door).
And most interestingly, I had zero problems handling Maya by myself. For two straight weeks. She was literally an angel.
We’re talking Best Behavior Ever.
After week one I was so confused by her good behavior that I actually asked her, “Why are you such a good girl when dad’s away, but when he’s here you don’t listen, you whine incessantly, and complain about everything?”
She thought about it for a second, said, “I really don’t know,” and then she laughed.
Points for honesty I guess?
On the rare occasion when I somehow manage to overlook something I probably shouldn’t be complaining about in the first place, my eagle-eyed sidekick Maya will inevitably catch it.
And her most recent topic of choice to nitpick was Ali’s purchase of a pair of headphones.
So Ali is not a big spender.
I obviously comment incessantly on his addiction to buying things that require charging, but in reality? His annual spending on things that plug-in probably amounts to less than what I spend on Method cleaning products (so addicted to Method).
Also, now that we are car-less and don’t have to spend money fixing his car every ten second? I know I can’t really fault him.
Maya, however, didn’t get the memo and/or didn’t care.
Maya: “Mama, did you know that dad spent $200 on his new earphones? That a lot.”
Me: “That really is a lot. The sound must be really good though. Let me listen.”
Maya: “It’s not any different from my Hello Kitty earphones.”
Me: “You’re right. It’s not really that good.”
Maya: “Dad, me and Mom think your earphones aren’t really that good. You spent a lot of money for no reason.”
Obviously Maya should have minded her own business here and I probably should have said so. But honestly, I’m just tired of being the bad guy all the time. So I figured I’d let Ali field this one.
He looked up from his laptop, made no comment, and then looked back down at his laptop.
This is often what happens when he knows that I/we are right (which is always) and secretly agrees with us but doesn’t want to verbalize the agreement in case it’s used against him in a future argument.
Which it will be anyway.
But we all play the game, right?
Only the next time Maya and I decide to pick on something, Ali has the option of putting on his average sounding, overpriced earphones so he doesn’t have to hear us rambling on.
So maybe, in his mind, they’re worth $200 after all.
Last week I turned 38.
I normally don’t ask for anything. But seeing as I received light bulbs last year, I decided to be a little more proactive and request a few things that couldn’t be purchased at a hardware store.
Here’s what I asked for:
- From Ali (this request occurred nearly six weeks ago to allow for fulfillment): A single, duplicate earring to replace the one that somehow fell out of my ear. (How do screw on earrings fall out? I am very confused.)
- From Maya: The latest issue of Marie Claire magazine and a bar of organic 73% chocolate from Trader Joe’s. (I had to keep within her $5 budget. I saw $55 in her wallet the other day though. Again, I am very confused.)
Here’s what I got:
- From Ali: A dead orchid. (I was told this orchid wilted and died as it made its way from Trader Joe’s to our apartment, due to a snowstorm.)
- From Maya: 3 bags of One Lucky Duck macaroons. These were appreciated, no doubt. But I have to wonder: why am I asked what I want if it’s going to be completely disregarded???
In short my 38th was completely unremarkable.
I went to work, I broke a nail, I nearly had to swim home due to the aforementioned snow storm, I cleaned the kitchen, I argued with Maya about doing her homework / taking a shower / watching TV / babysitting the class stick bugs, I moved Ali’s socks, and then I went to sleep.
The highlight of my day was when I found The Lowland at the library and the librarian was kind enough to disregard the lengthy wait list and let me borrow the book.
It takes so little. Really, it does.
As you may already know, last week was remarkable because I left Maya alone with Ali (or Ali alone with Maya?) for the first time ever.
This bears repeating: for the first time ever.
Things obviously started out rocky, beginning with an email asking how to use the washing machine.
This email came in while I was in flight and had no Internet (thanks to the fact my United Airlines plane – circa 1955 – didn’t have Internet capabilities, or much else for that matter).
This email was sent despite the fact that I washed every article of clothing, every sheet, and every towel in our place, prior to leaving.
This email was sent despite the fact that our washing machine – also circa 1955 – has so few options that even Maya could operate it.
When I didn’t reply fast enough on this laundry emergency, because apparently not having Internet access is just not a possibility in Ali’s realm (he obviously doesn’t fly United), I received a text asking “If I saw the email re: laundry.”
Yes, yes I did. I also saw the email and/or text re:
- Maya’s request for four desserts instead of three.
- Her insistence that she didn’t want to go to art class and therefore didn’t have to go to art class.
- The fact that someone forgot to purchase bananas and bread.
I could go on for hours but I’ll spare you.
The good news is that I flew home last night (on an American Airlines plane that did have Internet!) and everyone is still alive.
Re: the state of the kitchen, my orchid, and the hamper? Well that’s a whole other story.