I Always Run Late

Don’t you just hate that one friend of yours who is always late? I do too.

Except when it’s me.

My daughter is supposed to be at school every day by 8:30 for Circle Time. When her father takes her to school, she is there by 8:15- 8:20 if he’s running late.

When I take her, I count anytime before 8:35 a win.

always late funny quotes I Always Run Late

I am not sure what happens to those magical fifteen minutes every morning. You know, those fifteen minutes that seem to stretch in front of you and almost any chore seems possible. It’s the fifteen minutes that makes you think “We don’t have to leave for at least fifteen minutes. I will just throw a load of laundry in/empty the dishwasher/tidy up the family room/take the trash out.” Those fifteen minutes beckon me, practically screaming ‘Do something! Don’t waste time! Do something!’ As you are patting yourself on the back congratulating yourself on your efficiency and mentally checking something off the To Do List, you notice the clock on the wall behind you…. And panic because there is no way on God’s Green Earth you are going to make it to school on time. Again.

kids chore list template1 I Always Run Late

This happens to me every single time. And every single time I am surprised that I have run out of “fifteen minutes”. My girlfriends totally get it- I think it’s the women/multitasking thing.  My husband, on the other hand, shakes his head in incredulity. I can practically hear him saying, “I mean, COME ON, Julia. You knew you didn’t have enough time and that you would be late for school.” He says he cannot fathom why I make the same mistake again and again (God forbid I am actually early!). He does not bring it up anymore because in doing so, he would be welcoming a discussion of that “one time” he Didn’t Ask For Directions and we got so damn lost…

Pregnancy, The Great Equalizier

I don’t want to say that all celebrities think they are above the rest of us, but … they totally do. From demands of several brand of bottled water in their dressing room (Mariah Carey likes to have a tea service for eight people available in her dressing room — and insists that only Poland Springs water be used for the tea. But for drinking water, she likes another brand: “Please note that 16-oz. plastic bottles of Evian are the only acceptable bottles of water for the dressing rooms,” reads the backstage rider to one of her tour contracts.) to avoiding pesky inconveniences like jail (Lindsay Lohan), celebrities wave their magic wands (sometimes these magic wands resemble blank checks) and their troubles seem to disappear.

Most of  the time, this particular brand of smug comes with the territory; and we accept it for it is- slightly annoying, yet not surprising. However, there is at least one thing that inescapable… When celebrities find themselves knocked up, all bets are off!

Pregnancy is the greatest equalizer of all time. It gets every girl, every time. How many times do we see a newly pregnant celeb prancing around in designer shoes and tight dresses? I sit back and smile, as I know the ‘best’ is yet to come. I get a secret thrill every time I see a preggo celebrity suffering from cankles, a bigger butt, and dark circles from lack of sleep.  Things seem more right with the world when I view pictures of giant pregnant women waddling through Target in bedroom slippers and dirty yoga pants pushing carts full of diapers.

Some celebrities have found the exception to this rule and employ surrogate mothers to carry their children; thus escaping from all the ‘perks’ of pregnancy. (Please don’t misunderstand- many women have volunteered themselves, giving the ultimate gift to those women who physically cannot carry a child. Thank God for them; what an incredible sacrifice.)

I have recently become a Kardashian Fan. Yes, fan. And before you get all Judgy McJudgerson, let me remind you that while almost no one admits to being a fan of the show, almost everyone actually watches the show.

The 7th season finale of Keeping Up with the Kardashians on Sunday, September 16th, 2012,  from 9pm-10pm delivered the show’s highest-rated and most watched episode of the season with a 2.61 Household rating and 3.6 million Total Viewers, ranking it as one of the Top 25 most-watched telecasts on E! ever. (TV by the Numbers).”

In between Netflix, the constant marathons on E!, and the magazines in the checkout line at the grocery store,  I am well versed in everything Kardashian. Let me tell you though, that keeping up with them during multiple seasons was more difficult mentally than it should have been! (Unless you have tried it, I do not want to hear your judgements.)

The Kardashians, for all their fame, are proving unable to escape pregnancy and her vicious claws…

 

Six On Sunday, Version 35

1. Lazy. Saturday afternoon, I did nothing. I was lazy. This is a major milestone for me, people. I sat still and watched trashy reality television. And did nothing else- no iPad, no nail polish, nothing. It was great. (For about thirty minutes, and then I maxed out on ‘nothing’ and mopped the kitchen floor.)

2. Crock Pot. I have never used a crock pot before. I understand that people love them, and cannot imagine their lives without one. However, the appeal is lost on me as I don’t really like meat (I haven’t eaten red meat since 2004, not counting this-one-time-in-Paris-at-the-fondue-restaurant), and I am not a huge stew fan. Also, I don’t really care for potatoes. However, it is St. Patrick’s Day, and my husband loves corned beef, so I found myself searching pinterest for a recipe.

3. Corned Beef. Here is what I made.

I also made these, but the ones I made look NOTHING like this picture.

4. Photo Op. I realized that we have not taken one single, solitary picture since Christmas.  Thomas hates everything about pictures- from posing to taking them. He especially hates it when I ask someone to take our picture. (Which is too bad really, because I do it all the time.) I love pictures. I frequently look through our photo albums, remembering when and where we were when said pictures were snapped. So, this weekend has been one photo op after another. I am thrilled. Thomas not so much.

5. Irish Blessing. I love this. It makes me think of my grandmother, and I cannot even read it without crying. At my youngest sister’s wedding, Thomas had to read it because no one in my family could get through it without weeping.

 

6. Red Velvet. It seems like everyone we know was born in March. We seem to spend all of March going to birthday parties- which is a great thing. Yesterday, I was served Red Velvet cake that changed my life. The frosting was a cream cheese base with pecan bits mixed in. It was perfect- the crusty frosting edge and dense, creamy underside. The frosting did not overpower the cake- it was a perfect accompaniment to the cake. Usually, I am more of a cake than frosting gal- so I tried the cake without the frosting… which was possibly one of the best moves I have ever made. The cake moist and light; and melted like butter. In fact, the cake tasted A LOT like butter! I know a lot of people don’t ‘get’ Red Velvet- they can’t distinguish red velvet from any other cake. This cake will make them believers. The cake was from Gabriel’s.

homeLogo Six On Sunday, Version 35

Marietta, GA
THE BEST RED VELVET CAKE EVER

 

Cold Cold Cold HOT

All day long, I am cold. The kind of cold that settles into your bones and requires a hot shower to warm up.  However, with that said, when I climb into bed at night, I am cold. My icy feet have caused my husband to yelp as I plant them on his leg. My husband is a literal HEATER, and he normally gets into bed first and warms it up. I fall asleep, curled into a ball to conserve body heat.

And then, some sort of weird chemical reaction occurs and I become the hottest person alive. I am no longer appreciative of his heater-like qualities. Our bed now feels like a sauna, and there is no way out! Every single part of me is hot and sweaty, even my eyelids.

6458 PinkJeweledEyelids 01 Cold Cold Cold HOT

Granted, these eyelids are not sweaty but I am fascinated by the bling.
source

If I had my way, all of the windows in our room would be wide open and the ceiling fan would be on supersonic speed. I would turn the heat off and turn the air conditioning on. I would position a fan directly at the foot of our bed.

Curiously, I did not have this problem until I had my daughter- pregnancy: the gift that keeps on giving.

j t preemma Cold Cold Cold HOT

The Eternal Gift- Pregnancy.

It is very O.Henry: Before Emma, I was able to keep my body temperature normal. After Emma I cannot. The one thing that would alleviate my misery is the one thing I cannot do- because of Emma.

That one thing is to turn the heat off completely.

My husband laid down the law after we brought Emma home and said the house cannot get below 65 degrees. As I do like to think of myself as a compassionate mother, I did agree. However, I have resorted to drastic measures. In an effort to maintain my compassionate status while not expiring from heat stroke, I have closed AND blocked all of the heating vents in our room.

Most mornings, Thomas and I talked about our upcoming days over life changing coffee. As with many other couples, we tend to have the same conversation over and over…

The first topic we routinely discuss is Why Do We Have The Window Open When It Is Winter And The Heat Is On? As for the heat, I helpfully remind him that having the heat on is his bidding; I would be more than happy to turn it off completely. As for the window, I need fresh air. After six and a half years of marriage, I would have thought he knew the answer by now. Without the window at least cracked, I feel claustrophobic. (I realize that this borders on Slightly Crazy; I thank my mother. I am sure she is nodding in agreement when I say this, like it is the most normal thing in the world.)

fresh air

After that discussion, we move on to Why Is The Fan Turned Up To The Supersonic level? It is well documented that I get hot when I sleep. So hot in fact, that I routinely change my clothes as they are soaking wet. (The Night Sweats are not reserved for those magical first two weeks home from the hospital with a newborn at my house.) A fan can lower the temperature in the room by at least five degrees, and since The Heat Is On, I have to utilize all resources at my disposal so as to not spontaneously combust.

Cold All Day, But Not All Night

How hot do YOU like it?

I’m talking about the bedroom, of course.

I’M TALKING ABOUT THE TEMPERATURE OF THE ROOM, YOU SICKO!

I cannot get it cold enough and I have resorted to desperate tactics.

Fans (yes, multiple)? Check.

 

SuperStock 1672R 14748 Cold All Day, But Not All Night

Nice and Cool
source

Window? Wide Open.

Blanket? Flung to the end of the bed, in a crumpled heap. (We have one cotton blanket. The 100% wool ones of my youth would cause me to die an early death. Electric blankets are things of my nightmares.)

blankets Cold All Day, But Not All Night

Too hot!
source

This “hotness” is a new thing for me as I have spent my life perpetually freezing. During my days in an office, I had to learn to type with gloves on because I would lose feeling in my fingers. I also melted several pairs of shoes by placing my feet directly on a space heater. My present job is not one that keeps me bound to a desk, but it does require me to attend meetings. These meetings are held in large hotel ballrooms which, in my experience, are arctic caves- no windows to let sunlight in and air conditioning cranked up to HIGH. I am famous for layering my clothing and I make sure to always pack my black belted sweater.

This sweater is great- it can be dressed up and dressed down, depending on what I pair with it. It has been to Asia, Europe and even the Caribbean (it gets cold on airplanes!) multiple times. (I bought the sweater in college, at a time when I was measuring everything in ‘POB’- pitchers of beer- and that sweater was A LOT of pitchers, and so, I almost didn’t buy it. I thank god fashion trumped that day as well as for college boys who could be depended on to buy beer!)

 

Sometimes, my trusty sweater isn’t enough, and I have to brave the airline owned fleece blankets, just for some relief from the cold. Dual climate control in my car has saved my marriage on more than one occasion, and I believe heated seats are one of the greatest gifts mankind has ever received.

To sum it up: Daytime= freezing cold. Nighttime= unbelievably hot.

And, therein lies the problem…

Big Or Little?

Big or little? The answer is almost always BIG. Bigger is better- look at Texas: they have made Going Big a way of life! Also, diamonds come to mind when discussing the merits of big vs. small. Now, a few things are better small: butts (for the white girls anyway!), debt, and areas needing to be cleaned.

Generally, I always go for Big. Go big, or go home has been a personal declaration for me.

Big or little was never question for me when it came to purses- BOTH! Hey- like shoes, a girl can never have enough handbags!

I love the functionality of a large purse. Also, with more real estate, there is more of the bag to be seen, and therefore, more chances others will see the awesomeness of the bag.

I love the mystic of small bags. There is something undeniably sexy about only needing a credit card, an ID, and lipstick for an evening out.

My sister, who is all things fabulous (that’s what a well paying job, no mortgage, no kids, and a great sense of style will get you) came to visit and brought with her the most amazing bag EVER. (Disclaimer: the most amazing bag that does not require one to sell a kidney.) I HAD to have this bag. Thankfully, she agreed to buy one for me and send it. In return, I agreed to let her have hers back.

lamb williamsfield printed tote Big Or Little?

Love! Thanks Jen!
source

This bag was GREAT; I could fit EVERYTHING into it. Laptop and iPad? Yup. Bottle of water, gum, mints, and Diet Coke? Yes. Thirty six assorted lipsticks and glosses (am I the only one whose purse is a black hole for lip care products?) plus eyelash curler and all purpose lip/cheek/eye shimmer? You betcha. While on a trip to Chicago, I had (at any given time) water, a bottle of wine, the camera + carrying case, and a tour book… not to mention the standard purse things like sunglasses, wallet, and iPhone. My husband claimed he didn’t like the bag, I suspect it had more to do with the amount of time he spent carrying it because it was too heavy for me than the actual design. I think that men are secretly jealous of the capacity of a purse- while men’s pockets are bigger than women’s, pockets do have their limitations. Exhibit A: the man bag…

Emma’s Old Faithful

Everyone has a “Linus Moment” in their childhood.  I, like Linus, had a blankie. My blankie was named Old Faithful, and she was the best. My daughter does not have an Old Faithful. My daughter HAD Puppy.

Our world began and ended with Puppy. In the history of the Emma-verse, Emma only spent one night away from Puppy. It was a long night in the trenches, but, ultimately, we prevailed and were triumphant in the return of Puppy. We may or may not have had a ticker-tape parade. Or, at least a glass of wine.

As she got a little older, Emma’s attachment to Puppy remained very important, but she was able to function without her for short periods of time. (It also helped that school requires the kids to leave their special ‘lovey’ in their cubby. Nothing like a RULE to change behavior, right?)

emma puppy 1 Emmas Old Faithful

Cheesy School Picture!

While this newly found independence was good in theory, it made my life more difficult. (And clearly, it’s all about me. When Thomas and I were dating, he would routinely tell me this. Being the young, impressionable woman I was, I believed him. After we were married, we had an argument that culminated with Thomas proclaiming that it was NOT, in fact, all about me. I was SHOCKED, and actually speechless, which is shocking in and of itself. Thomas seized the moment of silence, and informed me that it was too late now, I was in too deep!)

While it was a refreshing change to have Emma without a death grip on Puppy, it was a double edged sword as she sucked at ,was not very good at keeping a handle on Puppy’s whereabouts. Sadly, she was lost for good a few months ago.  In more bad news, Puppy was a gift that was bought on a whim by one of my best friends as a Valentine’s Day gift for Emma when she was a baby. None of us ever dreamt that Puppy would become the sun we would orbit around, so we did not think to purchase back up Puppies. Trust me when I tell you that Puppy is one of a kind; that not everything can be purchased on eBay (or Buford Highway), and it does not matter how much cash one is willing to drop to get another one…

explore buford highway 200X200 Emmas Old Faithful

Buford Highway… if it’s not on Buford Highway, it’s not for sale!’
source

 

In The End, I Got My Bubble Bath…

My relaxing, child free bubble bath had taken a turn and was no longer relaxing.

To recap the scene: foam bubbles flying everywhere, jets hissing, Thomas yelling, and me laughing hysterically. Thomas leapt across the room in a vain attempt to stop the madness. I was very helpful, reminding him to be careful on the slick tile floor. He was not very appreciative of my concern for his safety. We had to accept that we could not fix this nightmare on our own, no matter how hard we tried, or how many towels we used.

Remember, we were already on best behavior because this hotel was so fabulous and so out of our league, so calling downstairs was not tops on our list. After a very intense thirty seconds, the jets turned themselves off again. Relieved, we finished getting ready, grabbed our coats, and headed for the door.

t j savannah1 In The End, I Got My Bubble Bath...

Out On The Town!

HHHHHIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSS! As Thomas opened the door, the jets went off again. I kid you not. I cannot make this stuff up. More shrieking (Thomas), laughing (me) and running around trying to scoop up bubbles and throw into sinks/shower (both of us)  followed… for thirty seconds. The jets shut themselves off again. Uncool or not, we decided this problem was bigger and more complicated than we could handle. Pride in our hands, we informed the concierge that we had been outsmarted by our bathtub. She was very nice, and mostly successful in hiding her giggles. She assured us the problem would be taken care of and apologized for the inconvenience.  (I know, it was a classy place!)

Upon returning that evening, the bathtub had been fixed. And, in the end, I did have a relaxing bath!

Bubbles, Bubbles EVERYWHERE

While on a recent weekend getaway to Savannah, I found myself in a hotel room that contained The World’s Best Bathtub.  Of course, I took a marvelous bubble bath. I soaked in the tub, ensconced in bubbles, sipping wine and judging the Kardashians.  I hit the jets several times to keep the bubble level high. It was wonderful. (And quiet.)

 

Right before I got out of the tub, I hit the jets one last time for one last shot of bubbles… and then I could not get the jets to turn off. The mountain of bubbles was growing exponentially. I stood up and pushed the iPad to safety, while yelling NO NO NO STOP STOP NO NO STOP! (If my own child doesn’t listen to me, I don’t know why I thought a piece of machinery would.) In a flash of brilliance, I plunged my hand to the bottom of the tub and pulled the plug. As the tub began to drain, the jets magically switched themselves off. I gave them a stern talking to, and jumped into the shower (I had to wash all those bubbles off), thankful that Thomas was with his buddy and were not around to witness my epic mechanical failure.

As it turns out, I had congratulated myself way, way too quickly. Twenty minutes later, I was dressed and in the bedroom, putting make up on. Thomas was in the bathroom, tying his tie. Suddenly, the jets again turned themselves on! Foam bubbles, a la Cancun Spring Break Foam Party style started flying around the room.  In case you didn’t know, bathtub jets make a horrible hissing noise when they are turned on and not under water. I would not recommend trying this at home. In fact, I would not recommend trying it at all! Luckily, I was very relaxed, so I was able to see the humor in the situation. I don’t think Thomas did…

nightmare bubble bath Bubbles, Bubbles EVERYWHERE

The Perfect Bubble Bath

The Quest For Bubble Bath (necessary for the world’s best bathtub) took Thomas and I to places he would not normally go. I say this is a good thing; a chance for personal growth and self development. I’m not so sure Thomas feels the same way…The gal at CVS mentioned a day spa across the street and suggested we go there as they were likely to carry bubble bath (because we were in the only CVS in North America that did not carry bubble bath).  As we walked across the street, Thomas muttered something about the ridiculousness of paying eight dollars for bubble bath from a fancy-pants spa. I ignored him and his whining (I consider myself an expert in the ‘Ignoring Whining’ arena.) We I (Thomas refused) went inside and located the perfect bubble bath! It was shaped like a cupcake! It promised a relaxing, lavender scent! And it was $6, not $8!

bubble bath cupcake The Perfect Bubble Bath

I purchased my small piece of heaven and, above Thomas’s protests to slow down, I RACED back to the hotel . I sent him up to the roof top bar, and skipped down the hallway to our room.

As I ran the water, I was giddy with excitement. I dropped my cupcake bubble bath into the stream. Then I ordered an excellent glass of wine from room service, and got my book (OK, so I really set up my iPad because I was almost finished with season two of Kourtney and Khole Take Miami, I was in the middle of a really pivotal scene. Shut up, this was my vacation!). After everything was set up, I stuck my toe in… and yanked it out as fast as I could. HOT! I had forgotten to add the cold water! Also, my cupcake looked a lot like a cupcake and nothing like bubbles…. I ran COLD water into the tub and held the cupcake under the water, attempting to crumble it into pieces.  Although my hand was freezing, I was convinced this would be worth it! After the longest five minutes ever, I again stuck my toe in. PERFECTION.

j bubble bath The Perfect Bubble Bath

This tub was deep enough that I could submerge my entire body and still sit up. The walls were smooth and comfortable, and had just the perfect angle to them- I could recline and still sip my wine. The bestest part of the tub were the jets- there must have been one hundred of them.  The cupcake had finally started to break up on its own, and there was a small, yet respectable amount of bubbles in the tub. I hit the jets and after ten seconds I had to turn them off because the mountain of bubbles was blocking my view of the iPad screen.  It was glorious. Sadly, the glory days were short lived, because, as you all know, Julia’s Math dictates that ‘Anything That Can Go Wrong Will’…