LV101
My bag thanks you for all your well wishes! I’m pleased to report that after a ridiculous amount of scrubbing with a variety of your suggestions, my bag is recuperating in its dust cover, far, far away from ketchup, Maya, and her uncanny ability to wreak havoc wherever she goes.
After I finish this post Maya is attending the first in a series of mandatory classes, this one is entitled LV101 -Reasons Why One Must Not Eat or Drink Around a Louis Vuitton Bag.
In other news, Maya somewhat redeemed herself because I found out that the kid can actually make pasta. From scratch.
Making pasta clad in a robe and with wet hair ... just like the Italians used to do.
We came to an agreement – I would spare her life if she shared her top-secret recipe. Naturally, she agreed.
Egg Pasta
3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 egg
1/4 t salt
1/2 T olive oil
1/4 t warm water
1. Place flour in a bowl and make a well in the center. Break the egg into the center.
2. Add salt, oil, and water and beat with a fork. Beat until the dough is stiff. Use your hands to knead into a ball. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.
3. Roll out and but into strips. (Attention All Moms – break out the cookie cutters and let your kids go wild making shaped pasta. This project is a great way to kill 25 minutes!)
4. Cook in boiling water for 10 minutes.
Guess what? This stuff tastes just like Barilla! I was really shocked! Even more shocking is the notion that Maya literally brings something to the table. Something other than dirty fingers that is.
See Mom...clean hands! For once.
Imagine that.
The Ketchup Incident
Prior to getting married I knew nothing about fashion. Zero. As in I thought fashion was wearing jeans with zippers on the bottom, together with penny loafers. Penny loafers that had real pennies in them.
And you thought I was kidding about being fashion-challenged.
Anyway, I no longer wear penny loafers or scrunchies or mini-backpacks in lieu of purses, thanks to my mother-in-law. It is only via her tutelage that I now understand why velvet backpacks should be reserved for another time called “never.”
My MIL bought me this beautiful white bag for my birthday earlier this year and since I carefully took the gift out of the safety of it’s box, I have made it my full-time job to keep the bag from getting dirty.
This is no easy feat when your kid uses you as her personal paper towel! But my purse somehow made it 8 months without so much as a fingerprint on it. Until last week that is, when Maya opened one of those little packets of ketchup and ….
It hurts too much to talk about it.
Call me shallow. Call me materialistic. I am both of those things and more. I can handle the name calling! What I can’t handle is a white bag with ketchup stains on it.
They say grief is a process and right now I am in the depths of mourning. But I’m well on my way to the next stage – anger.
I am currently writing a list of reasons not to give my child away. It’s a short list. A very short list.
It’s Never Too Early
(cue sarcasm)
I don’t know about you but I’m getting really excited about Halloween! It’s hands down my favorite holiday of the year.
Why? Well I just love traipsing around to our neighbors’ homes – including Escalade Dad’s! I think it’s great that Maya collects candy from people who usually do their best to ignore our existence.
Oh, and don’t even worry – I have no problem squashing that tiny voice in my head that says Maya’s candy might be tainted with God only knows what! Good thing I’m not a worrier.
My most favorite thing about Halloween, however, is the process of selecting a costume for Maya. This year I am encouraging her to be a Genie because there is nothing I want more than to watch my 5-year-old parade through the streets with a bare stomach and in full make up.
The Batgirl costume is tempting too! I’m sure you’ll agree that it’s every mother’s dream to see her child in vinyl cuffs and knee-high boots.
I’m just grateful that Maya isn’t a boy because then she’d be limited to being something scandalous like an astronaut or a firefighter.
The last thing I’d want to do is send her the wrong message!
I have to go now because I’m spending the day teaching Maya how to sort the laundry. Afterwards I’m going to explain to her the importance of having a hot meal waiting for her husband when he gets home from work.
Because I believe it’s never too early to start educating your daughter on her purpose in life!
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 