important questions
It’s been nearly two years since I wrote about Maya’s need to interrupt me when I’m on the phone.
I guess I can say that things have improved. Marginally. Because instead of trying to speak to me while I’m on the phone (loud stage whisper aside), my child now writes her questions down. And then she begins an elaborate sequence of pantomimes as she tries to get her question across.
Because that’s not distracting AT ALL.
Let’s peer a bit closer at Maya’s extraordinarily important questions for a moment, shall we?
Q: may I have beakfast – No Maya, you may not have beakfast. Until you learn how to spell and use punctuation.
Q: Is it going to rain? – Seriously? Has it ever rained at the end of May in Los Angeles? Talk about grappling around for a question.
Q: Why doese It look cold – Where do I start with this one? Doese? Why is “It” capitalized? Where is your question mark? And more importantly, what is your obsession with the weather all of a sudden?
So let’s recap: questions regarding meals and the May/June gloom are NOT A REASON TO INTERRUPT ME WHILE I’M ON THE PHONE. In writing or otherwise.
And now I just realized that I never did execute that wire transfer.
the orange jacket
Me, about 4 weeks ago: “What do you want to do for Memorial Day weekend?”
Ali: “Let’s go somewhere.”
Me: “New York?”
Ali: “That might be too far.”
Me: “Las Vegas?”
Ali: “I’m open.”
Here is one situation where I appreciate Ali’s indifference because he knows that I like to be in charge of where we go, where we stay, what flight we take, and pretty much everything else. But I didn’t have a free second to plan a trip anywhere, until last week when airfares were bordering on the absurd.
So instead of paying $458 for a round-trip one hour flight to Las Vegas, Ali and I decided to spend the weekend making progress on our (read: my) to-do list.
My husband also found the Mother Ship at Urban Home and for a quick second I couldn’t find him. Who knew that a bright orange jacket could also be a source of camouflage?
Translation: not a whole lot happened this weekend except that I busted my ass catching up on everything while Ali ate a giant steak, an entire Pizookie with ice cream, a molten chocolate cake, and then he enjoyed watching scantily clad women prancing around on American Wedding
Yeah. I’m not sure about you but I’m ready to go back to work.
please advise
And just as I thought, “Wow. It’s been weeks since I’ve blogged about Ali’s randomness. Could things be looking up?” my phone chimed with a text. From my husband.
Now before I dissect this text, let me just acknowledge that I received it close to 5:00 pm. Yes, this means that not only did Ali remember to pick Maya up from after school care, but he picked her up 30 minutes early!
So a part of me is grateful. Grateful that my husband heeded my desperate pleas for help with our child. Grateful that I had a few extra hours at work to catch up. Grateful that for once it was Ali who had to juggle his laptop and Maya’s filthy, germ-ridden backpack.
The grateful side of me told me not to address the text. To just let it go. But the bitchy side of me insisted that time is at a minimum these days and good blog fodder is hard to come by.
So here we go.
“Please advise?” I know it’s a bit late but yes, please allow me to advise:
- I made pappardelle at 6:15 in the morning to ensure that Maya would eat properly.
- So no, Maya cannot have her four-day-old leftovers from Cheesecake Factory.
- And no, she cannot have snacks. She doesn’t need a snack when dinner is available.
- Also, I informed you of point 1 above prior to us leaving for work, so that I wouldn’t receive a text message from you about this very topic.
- And finally, just because Maya demands something, that doesn’t mean you actually have to give it to her.
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 