Win or Lose, It's How You Play The Game

It was a 9-8 heart-breaker. The Boy lost his semi-final All Star game. It's not over...they can battle back from the loser's bracket, but it will be a challenge. We knew it was going to be a tough game going in. We lost one of our best players over the weekend. An ugly (and somewhat overly-brutal) play caused a broken arm, not to mention a broken heart. Because after all, what is worse than making the All Star team when you are 11, and then not being able to play? Well, tonight, The Boy's answer to that question might be "playing badly". He did not have one of his better games...he had his good moments....but he also had his less-than-good moments.



I truly believe that these are the best learning experiences as you grow up. The Boy works and practices hard, and most of the time, he learns that this pays off. But there are some games, just like experiences in life, where the ball just doesn't bounce your way. Adversity is a great teacher. "Win some, lose some" is a trite saying, but a truthful one.



When I was The Boy's age. I swam on an extremely competitive swim team. We practiced every morning form 7 to 10. I swam back stroke and free style, and I won most of my races. I also swam in the relays. I loved these because my 2 best friends also swam in these. One particular meet, we were facing a challenging team. I won my first individual race, and then we began the relay. We were winning, and when it came time for my back-stroke leg of the race, I dove in. It was 25 yards down and 25 back....with a required flip-turn, which was no big deal...except on this day. For some reason, I flipped too soon and just barely touched the wall. Our team won the race, but afterwards, the judges had a long discussion about whether or not to disqualify us since they were not sure I touched the wall. (This was in the days before they could monitor that) I was terrified that we would lose because of me. After what seemed like hours, the win stood...I was so relieved, but you had better believe that I spent the next week of practice flipping and flipping and flipping. And I never let that happen again.



This is what comes from defeat. If not, then you might as well give up all together. Tonight, The Boy will pitch in what could be either his final game...or the lead up to the final championship game. I hope the team wins, and I hope The Boy plays well. But to be honest...I mostly just hope he plays hard and learns from the mistakes he made last night.



When he got home last night, he put on the Braves game and called me into his room. We laid on the bed together and talked a little about the players...he pointed out to me that one of his favorites had had a tough night...0 for 5 and an error. We smiled at each other...I knew what he was thinking. I gave him a hug and reminded him that tomorrow was a new day... And he reminded me of what it is like to be 11...Oh, I love The Boy...


So until tomorrow, when there are games to be played and lessons to be learned...

When You Meet a Man, You Judge Him By His Clothes. When You Leave, You Judge Him By His Heart.

I'm reading a book entitled "My Mother's Wedding Dress: The Life & Afterlife of Clothes". I'd been searching for this book for months, but it was out of print and I couldn't find a copy. Last year, I started writing a very similar book. My working title was "My Life in Shoes", but the theme of the book was very similar. The clothes that we wear evoke certain memories that remind us of a time or place. Even if your not a so-called "fashionista", most of us can recall what we were wearing to certain events at certain times in our lives. This book that I am reading will cause me to re-work my own. It is written by Justine Picardie, a former features editor of British Vogue. She writes with such a lovely style that it causes me to re-read what I have written and cross out and delete. But that is beside the point...




In "My Mother's Wedding Dress", the author describes her mother's wedding dress. It is a black couture dress with french lace...extremely chic. She feels it was representative of what her mother wanted to be, as opposed to who she really was. The dress was "gone and disappeared, lost like my parents' marriage, yet it lives on in my memory". This reminded me of my first wedding dress, worn when I was barely nineteen. It belonged to my favorite aunt, who felt that bestowing it upon me was a huge honor. I took one look at the beautiful dress and knew in my heart immediately that it was not for me...not my style,,,though at 19, I had not quite developed what one would call a "style"....But at 19, I was certainly not willing to say 'no" to such a generous offer. My only hope was that it would not fit, but as fate would have it, it fit like a glove. My mother and my aunt were beside themselves, thrilled with the prospect of seeing the gown worn again. I was quietly distraught, but would not realize until years later that you have to speak up when things don't feel right. And sometimes you are allowed to hurt people's feelings when it involves your own life. But that is a story for another day...



When I think of all of the people close to me in my life, I picture them in clothes that are meaningful to me...not necessarily them. Early on in my life with The Husband, before he was The Husband, he showed up to work on a Saturday morning wearing khaki shorts, a green t-shirt and brown leather boots (the short JCrew kind). I can still remember seeing him across the building, walking up to his office, and thinking "That is a very handsome guy". And to this day, that green t-shirt is my favorite thing for him to wear. He looks good in almost everything, but the green t-shirt just carries the good feelings...



My mom had an ochre dress that she wore with a purple scarf...it sounds hideous when I describe it, but when she wore it, I thought she was the most beautiful lady in the world. After she died, I scoured her closet looking for that dress, but it wasn't there. So it will just have to remain a memory, which is probably a good thing, because the dress itself probably would not have held up to the memory...


I have absolutely no memory of anything special my dad wore except a Cubs baseball cap. This in itself speaks volumes about my dad...because he could have cared less about clothes...a point of contention for he and my mom all through their life...


The kids are easy...for Big Sister, it was her Punky Brewster hairstyle early on, and later in life, her lovely wedding dress. For The Rebel, her Snow White costume on Halloween. The Boy appears in my mind in every baseball uniform he has ever worn...and for Little One, it has to be the little red french jacket that Grandma brought back from Paris....

I don't know what my own would be...I guess that is for others to decide. When I married The Husband, the dress was not perfect since it was a product of time, money and environment. We were married over-looking a beach in Jamaica...so this required something a little different...I ended up with a black off-the-shoulder dress with a cream collar. At the time, I wasn't overly crazy about it, but when I look at pictures...it seems to fit not only me, but the occasion.

I know they say that clothes don't make the person, but there is no getting around the fact that clothes are an expression of who we are. Each time we put the effort..or don't put the effort...into what we wear, we show others a little piece of ourselves. Who we are...who we aren't...or who we want to be...

So until tomorrow, when I will remember that what I am wearing today may be what someone remembers about me years from now...

Truly Great Friends are Hard to Find, Difficult to Leave, and Impossible to Forget

I'm back at Grandma's with my golfers this morning, and so happy to be here. In fact, I am so happy that I have moved from the sitting room to the lovely deck where I can watch the maintenance guys and the sprinklers. It is definitely a distraction, but a lovely one.

I had lunch with a friend on Friday. Her two boys are friends with my son, so we all ate at the little Mexican joint...boys at a table and moms at another. I had written an article on her for the local paper and it was due to be in the paper on Saturday. We started out discussing the article...which covered all of her incredibly self-less work in the community over the last few years...but we covered a lot more ground. This friend has been through more in the last 6 months that many people go through in 5 years. Her father just passed away, her mom is traumatized, her sister is dying, her brother was in an accident, she gave up a job she loved...and her family is moving to another state in 2 weeks. So what is her answer to all of this? She was taking her boys on a mission trip to another country to lead Bible school for a week. I am constantly humbled by this woman. She approaches everything with a kind smile and an open heart. She makes me want to be a better person, and I am so fortunate to call her a friend.

Part of our conversation focused on a similar personality trait we both have. She was talking about facebook and the fact that she didn't have a lot of "friends" on her page. She talked about quality, and not quantity of friendship. I had to laugh at this because I am always being teased about the small number of "friends" on my page.I have maybe 20...mostly family...a few close friends...and a few trusted acquaintances....I am always stunned that people have 200 -300. And look, I think that is great. Big Sister has hundreds...and she totally enjoys keeping up with everyone. The other day, she said she was going to "edit" her list. She went from 500 to 450....

Friendship is a blessing...and you realize it more and more as the years go by. I have always had just a few really good friends, but the ones I have I would trust with my life. I count myself truly fortunate that I have made some really good ones in the last few years. I didn't expect that. It seems that as you get married, have kids and get older...your time is limited and it is hard to form real bonds...especially if you are reserved or shy. But I have been especially lucky in that area.

So just a shout out to a few friends this morning:

1) To the friend on the mission trip...be safe

2) To the friend whose son broke her arm in our baseball tournament this weekend: My heart goes out to you and please let us help if we can...

3) To the friend at the beach who has abandonned me at our girls' softball practice this week (just kidding)....have fun

4) To my other friend at the beach (everyone is at the beach!)....we miss you at the ball park!

5) To my friend in Paris who has been through too much...I love you

6) To my friend who just got back from vacation...let's do lunch...

So until tomorrow, when I will still be enjoying the view of the golfers...and thankful for friends near and far...

On Michael Jackson

Little One had softball practice last night, and on the way there, she requested we listen to "ABC" by Michael Jackson. This CD has been in my car all year long...it is one of the few we could all agree on during the morning ride to school. Once we got to practice, my friend Kathy asked me if I'd heard that Jackson had had a heart attack. I was dumb-founded. We went for a walk and discussed how surely he would be ok. Minutes later, a friend of hers called and said he was dead. We looked at each other in shock. The rest of practice, we mothers sat stunned by this news.

I tried to watch the news coverage last night, but I didn't want to listen to the speculation about his drug-use. I just wish they would let some respectful time go by before that stuff starts. I grew up listening to Michael Jackson. I think I had every album (and yeah, that was when they were called albums) he ever made. I was lucky enough to get to see him in concert when I was older. It was an amazing concert...I remember everyone stood on their chairs the whole time, awe-struck by his dancing. The day before the concert, I remember being at the mall and reading a magazine about Michael. I was looking at several photographs of him...and when I looked up, I saw a man down the mall who was in the pictures! I kept looking at the picture and then looking at the man...As previously discussed, I was not someone who would ever approach someone I did not know...but I was so riveted by seeing this guy that I went up to him and asked him if he knew Michael Jackson. He said yes...he was a body-guard for him. That made sense because he was in the background of every picture....so there you go....my tie to Michael Jackson.

The best thing I heard on the news last night before I turned off my tv was Heraldo Rivera's claim that all of those sordid allegations that came out about Jackson a few years ago were untrue. He says that Jackson was accused falsely time and time again by unsavory characters who saw a chance for big money. He claims that was the downfall of Jackson, who could never recover from the shame, humiliation and disgrace of those allegations. I wish the press would have been as kind back in those days. I think I always thought those things might be true...even though he was acquitted...because the press kind of inferred it....very sad.

I was so hopeful that his upcoming tour would re-vive his life and reputation. He sold out an amazing number of shows in London already. It now seems that the pressure of those upcoming dates may have played a part in his death. Isn't it sad that he didn't have someone to step in and help him? How can the most famous person in the world be so alone in some ways? It makes me want to cry...

On another sad note, I can't believe Farrah Fawcett has died so young...and in such a tragic way. I was holding out hope that she would be able to win her battle with cancer. I think she was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. A friend of mine showed me a picture of her last night that her cousin had sent her. It was a personal photo...one I had never seen...and maybe the most beautiful picture of her I had ever seen. Even at 62, she was stunning.

So until tomorrow, when hopefully the news will be happier...

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

Last summer, part of our vacation was a planned trip into NY so that we could see one of the final games in Yankee stadium. The husband had been there before, but I had never been...and The Boy, though not a Yankees fan, was really looking forward to it. Before we left, The Husband and I had a brief conversation on how much we wanted to spend on tickets before he started bidding on them. Now these conversations are just "for show", because The Husband never has any intention of listening to anything I have to say on these matters. But he does nod his head and pretend like he is listening. On the drive up there, I noticed that he was still "bidding" at each hotel stop we made. When questioned about it, he just said "Well, I'm trying to get better tickets." I was a little worried, because I had told him that outfield cheap seats would be fine...but this is not how he operates....

When we arrived at Yankee stadium, it was a beautiful, albeit HOT, day. Imagine my surprise (not really) when we were led to seats about 2 rows back right behind home plate. I looked over at The Husband...and he just smiled smugly and refused to reveal the price of the tickets. I was actually thrilled, because I am a closet Yankees fan, and I really like Derek Jeter. It was exciting to see them in person. But there was a problem...due to the very hot day, and a phobia that cannot be explained here, Little One was not a happy camper. In fact, as soon as we entered the stadium, I knew we were in for trouble. I did everything I could to accomodate her issues...begged, cajoled, threatened....but by the second inning, we were in the really horrible restrooms waiting for her to throw up. (All the sentimental feelings I had about Yankee stadium being torn down flew out the door that day as I kneeled on the filthy floor in the restroom to help Little One. I was longing for my cool and clean Turner Stadium). Each time we returned to our seats, The Husband got madder and madder....I could just see the dollar signs in his head...I could tell that he was out of patience...

Finally, in the 6th inning, after several trips to the restroom, I just took Little One outside the stadium on a bench under a tree where I planned to spend the rest of the game so that Husband and Boy could watch in peace. But minutes later, 2 angry faces appeared and demanded that we head to the car. Little One was in tears, feeling sick and guilty, The Boy was frustrated...and the Husband was just beyond it all.....we were suppose to go into NYC afterwards and stay at a nice hotel, see a show, take Little One to the American Girl store...but instead...well, suffice it to say that did not happen...but that is a story for another blog...

Last night, The Husband, his BFF and The Boy "allowed" me to accompany them to the Braves vs Yankees game at Turner field. (Little One bowed out due to re-occuring nightmares of last summer's game) It was a hot, but beautiful evening, and I had so much fun. It was a perfect evening...except that I committed the huge mistake of clapping for Jeter when he came to bat...so The Boy refused to speak to me the rest of the night. Although he was being silly...I didn't REALLY mind, because I can be a real baby too when my team loses. The Braves lost...but it was ok. We had a good time...and I spent very little time in the VERY clean restroom...Also...where else can you eat a foot-long hotdog, Edy's ice cream, and a frozen strawberry lemonade, and not feel guilty for doing it???

So until tomorrow, when hopefully The Boy will be speaking to me again...

Miranda "Whatever Happened to Aging Gracefully?" Carrie "It Got Old"

I was scanning the covers of the magazines this month in the grocery store last night. The "cover girls" were Christie Brinkley, who is 53; Michelle Pfieffer, who is 51; and Sandra Bullock, who is 44. These women give me hope. Without doing an age reveal here, because after all, who cares, I will say that I am closer to Sandra than the others. My other similarity with Bullock is that she and I are both the same number of years older than our husbands. (The Husband is now looking up the age of Jesse James, because he likes to make sure that I am "keeping it real")

Christie is on the front of Redbook. She's been in the news lately because of her kind of sordid divorce, but this article is more about how she stays looking so lovely. She has always been a beauty, but at 53, she looks amazing. She says that she does use Botox, but she doesn't say if she has done anything else. She's obviously in terrific shape, which she attributes to vigorous workouts. (She does those infomercials for the Total Gym...she must really use it.)

Bullock is the "baby" of the three at 44, and as I have mentioned the last few days, she looks great in The Proposal. She is actually 11 years older than Ryan Reynolds, but she looks so good that you don't even notice the difference...at least I didn't...and The Husband said he would never have known. She graces the cover of several magazines this month (Glamour, Bazaar,etc.) and she claims to not use Botox...no "procedures". She says when it is time to do a movie, she just works out. I love her attitude...she's a wife, step-mom, actress, restaurant owner...I mean, she is an all-around person who seems really down to earth. Plus, I love her style...kind of bohemian cool-chick.

Pfieffer is just a beauty. At 51, she also claims to have had no work or procedures done...she's afraid of Botox....and you can see in pictures that she has the lines and such, but she is just gorgeous in an ephemeral kind of way. I love the way she is aging. I think she is more beautiful now than she was 15 years ago. It is interesting that her last 3 movies have paired her with men anywhere from 10 to 2o years younger than she is...but it never looks creepy. When asked what her beauty rituals are, I love her answer. She says that there are no secret diets or creams...it is all a matter of eating well, sleeping well and working out....and some air brushing. She claims that when a movie is coming up, she works out like crazy and takes care of herself...and has a team of make up and hair stylists who help! I just love that honesty.

I think as you get older, you keep looking "ahead" for older women who give you hope. In your twenties, you look at thirty-somethings to see what your future holds. At thirty, you look at forty...and these days, it doesn't seem so old at all. At forty....you look down the road to fifty and wonder...But if Michelle and Christie are representative of what it looks like, I'm not so worried about going there...

I have no judgement about Botox or plastic surgery, but I think I would be scared to death of both. You see too many women who have gone this route and just look plain strange...not like themselves. I'm not talking about Joan Rivers or people who have just completely gone crazy with it. But just people whose face doesn't match their skin or body. It just looks un-natural. When people speak of "aging gracefully", those are powerful words. To me, it means aging with dignity and humility...and not trying to be who you were 20 years ago. I remember reading a piece by Carrie Fisher where she talked about how her mom, Debbie Reynolds, went to a reunion...and only one lady there had not had "work" done. She said that it was a very strange reality to realize that we are forgetting what it looks like to be a certain age.

Of course, it is always easy to stand up on the high-horse before you "get there". Talk to me in 10 years, and maybe I will be praising Botox and collagen, with absolutely no movement in my face....But I hope not....

So until tomorrow... when I will be a day older, but also a day wiser...

"I'd Luv to Kiss Ya, But I Just Washed My hair"...Bette Davis

I was warned by the Little One and The Boy NOT to do anything remotely different to my hair. No bangs, no cut, no color...nada...nothing. All the way to camp this morning, we...rather, they, had a discussion about "NO CHANGES" to my hair, after I inadvertently mentioned that I had an appointment at the hair salon. I have no idea why my kids are so invested in my hair. I don't think I ever even noticed my mom's hair when I was their age. I don't know what the psychology is behind this obsession. All I know is that any thought I had of doing something different was swept out the door on the way to camp.



It was a slow day at the salon. No interesting next-seat clients to ease-drop on. No far out hairstyles to silently critique. My sweet stylist has been going through a family crisis-of-sorts, so that took up most of the conversation. We then launched into an in depth discussion of jeans, after a neighboring stylist mentioned that she paid $200 for hers. This brings us back to the discussion of what and why we are willing to pay certain prices for certain things. For me, $200 for jeans is crazy...because my Levis and Gap's at $65 work just fine. I did splurge on pair of Marc Jacobs a few years ago in NY, but even those were on sale for about $80. On the other hand, show me a chic handbag or pair of shoes...and I can shoot past the $100 on occasion. My cute stylist prefers her Express jeans, and wouldn't dream of going over $80 either. But judging by her phone, there are other areas where she, too, is willing to splurge. The stylist who sported the $200 pair looked like she was willing to splurge in many areas...


I called The Husband on my way out, and he asked "Do you look like Sandra Bullock?" No, I replied, do you? "Well you said you were going for her hairstyle in yesterday's blog." So you read it? "Of course"....Well, my hair is already like Bullock's, only not brunette. I was just kind of joking yesterday...but I love when The Husband pays attention....


That's pretty much it for today...the hair salon cut cancelled my blog-writing time this morning...and afternoon blogging feels...different. ( I hope this isn't because I'm not awake enough to have more judgement)


So until tomorrow, when we are back to a normal schedule...only with better hair...

On Summer camp and The Proposal

I'm missing the golfers this morning. The view from my home window just doesn't compare with the view at Grandma's house. But the positive side of this is that I am getting more writing done. I must spend more time than I thought staring out the window at Grandma's...or it could be that the kids are at camp this morning and I have no distractions?? I'm choosing the latter...

I love summer time. I love the later mornings, the relaxed tempo of the day and the time spent with the kids. HOWEVER, I am definitely enjoying this little mini-break this morning. The Boy is at basketball camp until noon. He will jump into the car in a really good mood (because all of his friends and his favorite coach are at the camp) and he will announce "I am starving". So off we will go to a fast-food joint where he will tell me all about camp while he downs several burgers. This is precious time spent alone with him that I treasure. A little voice inside my head says "It won't be long until he not only won't want to do this, but he WON'T do this).
Little One is at regular summer camp where they do all sorts of fun activities. The best part of her day will be the fact that her best friend is there, too. Anything done with the BFF is fun. I am already prepared for the "Can we have a sleepover?" request.

Even though I enjoy the dynamic of the summer time spent with kids, these few hours feel like little gems. I like the quiet. I always have. 3 hours with no requests is...heaven.

Now on to the good news: the movie The Proposal was just SO good. In the words of The Husband: "It exceeded expectations". On the way to the movie, The Husband and the BFF of the Husband were moaning and complaining about seeing this movie. Of course, we women just ignored them (as usual) knowing that they are not really happy unless they get to complain. Once we sat down in the theater, they began their pre-chick-flick routine of sending dopey messages back-and-forth to each other on their blackberrys. The last one I saw before the movie started was "This movie blows". (I know, hard to believe a grown man says this.) The response to this was "It hasn't even started." The response: "Just guessing". Real comedians.

Imagine my delight when the first words out of The Husband's mouth after the movie were "That was really good. Really funny." He even suggested we see it again! And the BFF was in total agreement. THEN, he made the complete faux-pas of rating it an A-, forgetting momentarily that the rule made several years ago states that "If the men give a chick-flick an A rating...the girls get the next 2 picks". The Husband claims he doesn't remember this rule...but too bad.

I do not want to spoil the movie for anyone, so I am not going to give anything away. What I can say is that I laughed so hard I cried at various points during the movie. Sandra Bullock is darling. Ryan Reynolds is adorable. And they have terrific, believable chemistry. And be sure not to leave until you are SURE the movie is over, because the last post-movie scene is just hilarious. I have not laughed that hard in a long time. As a side-note, the scenery and the clothes are also gorgeous. It supposedly takes place in Alaska, and I don't know if that is where they filmed it, but it is beautiful. Bullock's clothes are stunning...the 5 inch Laboutin heels in the first scene were perfect, and her skirt and blouse in the final scene were SO pretty and chic. I also have to say that whoever dressed Reynolds should be congratulated. It's not often that I notice the man's clothes, but his were perfect, too. From the suit in the opening scene ($100 says it was Dolce and Gabanna) to the casual jeans and hoodie in the Alaska scenes...he looked great.

Ok, so that's it for today. 2 more hours of peace and quiet...I must take advantage.

Until tomorrow, when we go back to the hair salon in search of Sandra Bullock's hairstyle...

On Conversing, Prada and Father's Day

Today will be a mini-blog today because it is Friday and I already hear little voices coming from the far room, which means that Little One and her BFF will be in here in approximately 5 minutes requesting a 3 course breakfast...so here we go..

1) I've started a wonderful book entitled The Art of Conversation by Catherine Blyth. It is well-written and researched, and so far the gist of the book is that with the technological age we are in, true conversation is becoming a lost art form. We are so busy on facebook and texting and on our cell phones that we have forgotten how to make polite conversation. I was loving every line of this book...underlining and highlighting away, until I got to the following quote: "We think we're shy. We don't realize how arrogant, selfish, and idle we seem." Uh oh. My defensive antennae went up. I was born shy and I am still shy...and I tend to hide behind this excuse in social situations, so I felt a little busted when I read this. I always joke with my friends that I only have a certain number of words in me a day. When I reach that number, I just cannot talk anymore. After reading this book so far...I am asking myself if I CAN'T talk anymore, or if i just do not want to talk anymore. I fear it is the latter...and I do think that is a bit arrogant and selfish. Don't you hate it when you read something that you are forced to agree with, thus meaning that you will have to work on your behavior....

2) Heads up to my lovely niece...the Prada fall preview is on Saks.com this morning. I do not own anything from Prada due to the price point...but after viewing this preview today, I am going to cross my fingers and hope for a pre-sale..(Ok, the strapless black dress with the white blouse underneath is just beyond fabulous). Of course , the Husband is now muttering something about "How many black dresses can one woman have?"

3) Congratulations to The Little One who made the All Star team in softball. She had her first practice last night and overcame her fear that the coach would be "too strict". Congratulations to me also, who discovered that my favorite mom from the regular season...the one who makes me laugh.. well, her daughter also made it...making me feel a little better about having to sit through 2 hour practices....

4) For Thomas: "You know I always wanted to pretend that I was an architect."

5) An early Happy Father's Day to The Husband. Few fathers put in the time and effort that you do. It continues to be a pleasure to ride the roller coaster with you...I love you.

That's it for today. This weekend marks the opening of The Proposal, the movie I have been dying to see...Please let it not be a disappointment...

So until Monday, when I am sad to say that I will be back home writing since the kids have camp...and missing my view of the golf course I'm sure...

Model Behavior

I feel the need to clear something up. In yesterday's bog, I referred to my modeling days. Several of you were surprised and intrigued by this information. It is not something that I ever put on my resume...or reveal to many people. I would like to stress again that I was no super-model. I was never roaming the streets of New York with the It -Girls. I was merely making occasional good money by posing and smiling.


My lovely sister-in-law suggested that I visit an agency and give it a try. This was in the same conversation where she told me I needed to be more "aware of my surroundings" in my life. Truer words were never spoken. I may be the least observant person that one will ever meet. You know those games you play where you have to look at something and then look away and describe everything you just saw? I lose everytime. (The irony here is that I married into a family and gave birth to children who can describe every detail of every person that they have ever met).

I met with an agency and was hired immediately and told to get a "card" made. Now a card is a beginner model's "book". This is what you take around from job to job...a set of pictures that defines your "Look". Since I had no idea what my "look" was, I had to find a good photographer to help with that. In a hilarious piece of irony that never fails to amaze me, my extremely conservative father put me in touch with Jean-Pierre. I cannot remember how they knew each other, but dad raved about him and insisted that he would be terrific. And he was. Not only was he French...which for me was the winning factor...but he was a nice guy and good photographer. The first day we worked together, his little French family roamed in and out of the room...which totally put me at ease. I must have tried on 100 different looks for him to photograph, and in the end, the cover of my card was just me in a big, old sweater...very modest, but in a very chic way. the back of the card had 3 different looks ranging from "bohemian chick" to "woman-on-the-go" to "ladies that lunch". To this day, I love that card. I think because it represented the beginning of me becoming me. That card got me work from Tennessee to Atlanta...but no further than that. An agency in Chicago wanted me to work for them, but I remember the head guy's words to me: "Your card is great, but not strong enough for Chicago or New York"....Uh-oh...That meant I needed a "book"...which would cost thousands of dollars and would mean that I had to take the modeling thing more seriously. Then I met the husband, who was semi-supportive of this endeavor, but I suspected he found the whole thing a bit cheesy...so little by little, I let it go.

And that is the exciting story of my modeling career. As stated yesterday, I did have a "starring" role as an extra in the tv show "Savannah". My claim-to-fame on that show was the fact that I was the only extra who got to speak. The star guy on the show (whose name alludes me this morning) made the mistake of speaking to me during one of the scenes...this was a no-no since it meant they had to pay me more! I was so stunned when he spoke to me during the scene that I am afraid my acting debut is pretty pitiful...I look surprised because I was...

I remember telling a friend not long ago that modeling was not for me because I didn't want to do anything exotic. He thought this was funny, but what I meant was that I did not want to dye my hair or wear something I didn't like. I remember looking in the mirror sometimes after being in the make up chair and thinking "Who are you?" But as I said yesterday, I did enjoy the runway stuff. And thankfully, I never had a Carrie Bradshaw moment where she tripped and fell on the runway. One of my true talents in life is that I can maneuver pretty easily in 4 inch heels...and enjoy it.



So that is it for today. As I sit here writing in my jeans and tank top, which is my requisite writing outfit...and remember back to when I actually got paid for what I put on...


Until tomorrow...I have no idea what the subject will be...but I will now be found at cestlaviegirl.blogspot.com....

On The Sock Drawer and Figuring Out Who I Am

A few weeks ago, The Husband made the declaration that I tend to "let the minutia of life worry me too much." Upon hearing this little tidbit of wisdom, I considered it for a bit and decided he was probably correct. I am a worrier. It is a genetic thing. I come from a long line of worriers. If I finish worrying about something today, I guarantee by tomorrow I will come up with something else to replace it. If you factor in that I have four children (one who is nicknamed The Rebel), it only exacerbates the situation.

About an hour after making his little statement, The Husband sends me the following e-mail:


"My sock drawer is getting low. It has been happening slowly for the last few months. Could you please look into it?"


Ok, now I don't like to be an over-reactor to things....but does anyone besides me see some irony here? For about 2 minutes, it flashed before my eyes that this was what my life had come to... checking on The Husband's sock drawer. Thank goodness I was rescued by The Boy's request to help him find his cup for baseball practice....and then there was the Little One who desperately needed her hair put in a side-ponytail "with no hair sticking out" before she could go to the pool...

I'm not complaining...really I'm not. After all, someone has to make sure the sock drawer is full, find the cup and do the ponytail. It's just that there are days that...well...I guess I let the "minutia" get to me.

I have to quickly flash back to a few years ago when I was in Paris wearing my gorgeous black suit and 4 inch heels and flitting through the halls of the International Gift Show doing my "Oh So Glamorous" job of Retail Director/ Buyer. All the while, The Husband patiently strolled The Boy through the streets of Paris so I could do what I needed to do. And there were never any complaints...and he was totally supportive...and so what I mean to say is...I had my time and I made the decision to be finding cups and helping with ponytails...

It's all relative, isn't it? Like Carrie said in Sex and the City, "The past is like an anchor. Sometimes you have to let go of it to find out who you are now." When I met The Husband, I was a model. Not a model in the Giselle/ Cindy/ Naomi sense of the word...but a model in the "really don't like the job but love the money" sense of the word. If you look really hard in a few episodes of that old tv series "Savannah" (gosh was that a terrible show) or in some old Macy's ads, you can see my "best work". (That is me being sarcastic). I did happen to like the runway stuff...you didn't have to talk to anyone and they didn't put the massive amount of make up on you that required an hour in the make up chair ...you just got to walk up and down the runway wearing some very chic clothes. But after I married The Husband, I had to let go of that job (which is a story for another blog) in order to make our new life work. Then the Director/ Buyer job worked for awhile until the babies came along. But juggling everything from The Husband to the Big Sisters to the babies became too much.....And when you start feeling like you are doing everything poorly...it's always time for a change...


These days, I do what I like to do and need to do. I counsel the older ones, take care of the Little Ones, keep the sock drawer full for The Demanding One...and I write about it....and other things...

The beauty of life was illustrated on the day of the sock drawer discussion. After I checked the drawer (and by the way, discovered 14 pairs of socks...IS THIS REALLY LOW?) ...I sent The Boy to practice and the Little One to the pool...and into my in-box popped a message from an editor telling me that my latest article was being published....so the world came back into color and perspective for me. I am who I am because of all of the intricacies of my life...and I am thankful for all of it...(at least on a good day)


So until tomorrow, when I will officially change the blog address to http://www.cestlaviegirl.blogspot.com/, and hope that all of you will join me there for more discussion of A Day in the Life of me....

"God Has No Religion" Ghandi

Well, today I was suppose to write about power struggles and the sock drawer. Now as riveting as that tease probably sounded, I am going to have to delay that for a day. I received an e-mail this morning from the Tony Blair website. I have written about this site before because I admire him so much. This particular message was about a Faith Initiative that he is beginning that will educate kids on different faiths and religions in order to create a sesnse of tolerance throughout the world. I think this is an amazing idea. It sounds fairly benign...like it is nothing new. but really think about it. If kids are taught early that we all worship in different ways, but they are all to be respected, I think we might be on to something here.

I am a religious person. I know that is not a popular thing to say these days, but I am. It is much more p/c to say "I am a spiritual person", because this sounds somehow more cool...as though you have just come from yoga and are ready to meditate. But in my heart, it goes further than that.

I was raised by a Lutheran and a Southern Baptist. Very conservative on both sides. My dad's mom didn't dance or wear make up. This would not have worked for me. I like my make up and I like to dance. My mom's mom didn't curse, smoke or drink. No problem on any of those, although these days I do like my occasional glass of wine.

My problem with the Baptist church, and this is purely personal, is that being a shy person, I never felt the need to stand up in front of the church and proclaim my feelings. I always believed God knew where I stood, and I didn't like all that pressure about being so demonstrative. When I went to church camp with my cousins at age 10, everyone had a "conversion" except for me. I'm pretty sure they all thought I was sac-religious, but I just couldn't manufacture feelings like that on the spot. However, I always appreciated and respected the fact that they could and did.

I grew up in the Methodist church. This was good mid-way ground. Methodists have similar beliefs to Catholics and Baptists...somewhere in between...but without any drama. I was happy in the church growing up. I always liked going to church, never complained. But as I got older, I found myself searching a little deeper. I read and believed in the words of the Bible, but I was interested in other religions too. After travelling in France and attending many Catholic churches, I was convinced I would might like to be Catholic one day. Ironically, The Husband had been raised Catholic, so this became my path after I met him.. Now The Husband was what I would refer to as a closet Catholic. This was the church he claimed on any forms he filled out...the way he said he wanted his kids raised...but as far as the last time he had been to Mass???? Well, let me put it this way, when I went through conversion classes, I learned things he never knew. In the end, I didn't convert, because if you are not born Catholic, and you happen to be divorced with kids...there are some difficult hoops to jump through. But I did attend for several years with the little ones (notice I didn't say The Husband) and I loved every minute of it. I loved the tradition. I loved the ritual. I loved the beauty.

I also like the Jewish religion. In fact, (and believe me, I get the ridiculousness of what I am about to say), my favorite Sex and the City episodes are when Charlotte converts to Judaism for Harry. Again, I love all of the tradition and the ritual...I admire the history...but like Charlotte, I would have trouble giving up some Christian traditions...not to mention the fact that I just really believe that Christ has been here already. I think maybe that would be the deal-breaker for me....However, doing it for Harry...I can understand.

These days we attend a really great Methodist church. Our minister is one of the coolest women I have ever known, not to mention the wisest. I feel like I could learn from her my whole life.But I still enjoy exploring other beliefs. I like the principles of Buddhism. I think Christ would have liked that Mr.Buddha...

The Boy bases his church-going on how long the services are and if he has to wear a button-down shirt. If we go to the "contemporary" service where he can wear shorts and a t-shirt, and they play the drums and guitar, he is happy. Little One is content if she gets to give the offering and fill out the information card. And I am pleased to say that The Husband is always in attendance. He admires the "priest" in his words, though he threatens that he won't go anymore if she leaves....he even puts the blackberry on silent for 42 minutes....

So until tomorrow, when I will be happy that I am not only spiritual, but religious too, and I will pray with the Little One, who says "Now I lay me down to sleep, pray the world my soul asleep. angels watch me over night, keep me safe till I am right".....which just goes to show that you don't have to say it right, you just have to say it...

And again, beginning Thursday, this blog will be found under the address www.cestlaviegirl.blogspot.com...

"The Only Reason We Ask People How Their Weekend Was Is So We Can Tell Them About Our Own."

It was a good, summer weekend. When I signed off Friday, we headed down to Atlanta for the big game of the baseball tournament. This was the one they really wanted to win...but they didn't. After holding the lead all game, things fell apart in the last inning, and they lost. They brought The Boy in to pitch in the middle of the free-fall, but it wasn't his day. He did his best, but his best didn't do it. It was a quiet walk to the car. I tried to hug him, but wanted to be left alone. Little One was having one of the player's sisters over to spend the night, so that was a distraction.


The Husband decided we would have a nice meal at the place of our first date on the way home. The kids had little to zero interest in that history, but I kind of liked it. I replicated what I ordered on our first date, and low and behold, The Husband remembered. "Is that really what you want or are you just reliving history?" Both, I answered. He rolled his eyes a little, but he also smiled.


The next day, we headed back to play our final game of the season for the travel ball team. Thank goodness we won and everyone played well. A great way to close out the season. And then 11 boys, 5 sisters and 15 adults headed to ESPN Zone to eat and play video games. It was surprisingly un-chaotic and fun. It was kind of like the last day of school. Even though most of the boys will play All Stars together starting next week, some would not, so there were good byes to be said. All in all, good fun...and then The Husband and I had a stroke of luck. One of the moms on the team invited The Boy and Little One to come and spend the night with her Boy and Little one. Now this is a mom that I love and fully trust, so not only did it mean we would have a free night...but also a non-worrying free night (and all you parents out there will fully understand that).


So The Husband and I headed home in a quiet car and debated what we should do with our free evening. I surprised him by suggesting that we go see the Gwinnett Braves since he had tickets. I could tell he was pleasantly surprised, probably fearing a request for some chick-flick or romantic dinner. It was a beautiful evening for MORE baseball and we had a good time. Topped it off with wings at Fridays on our way home...and it just doesn't get better than that.


Sunday, The Husband surprised me with an offer to pick up the kids...thus leaving me with a basically free day. It was heaven. I cleaned up, which took a surprisingly small amount of time since I had no little voices to interrupt me. I did the big grocery trip for the week...and then I headed to TJ Maxx for...well, I wasn't sure what. But I came away with some Swell purchases:


1) turquoise one piece swimsuit that I can race the kids in...


2) Spoon rest that matches the dishes that my mother-in-law had at the house...this gave me an inordinate amount of joy...


3) 2 gorgeous strapless dresses, one turquoise and one beige...each $19.99...such a Steal (The Boy loves it when I say that....The Husband thinks my perspective on Steals is skewed when it comes to cute clothes...)


4) Anne Klein T-strap wedges in python print...oh my goodness are they gorgeous...and you guessed it....a steal.


5) Lotion from the French Line of Roc which I love...and lastly,


6) Two journals with vintage french prints on the front...one will have to go to Big Sister since she graciously did The Boy's laundry for me (no washer at Grandma's House)


It was a great shopping day...and then the kiddies came home all happy because THEY had had fun too.


All in all , a great weekend. So until tomorrow when I get closer and closer to changing my blog address to cestlaviegirl.blogspot.com.....this will happen on Thursday! Please note that once it changes, you won't be able to find me at the old address!



A few quick shout-outs:... to beloved niece, who made me laugh with her description of her coffee preference after reading Friday's blog...an assurance to brother-in-law that I will keep him posted on All Stars.... a reminder that Big Sister is selling her terrific jewelry at thelittlejewelrybox.blogspot.com...a congratulations to The Rebel on her "move"...and a big thank you to the family for a lovely weekend...

So until tomorrow, when the talk turns to power struggles and the sock drawer...

It's Friday and I'm Changing My Address

It's a beautiful Friday morning. the golfers are not yet out on the course, so it is very peaceful.

I'd like to take a moment and let you know that next Wednesday, I'll be changing the address to my blog. Since The Boy and Little One decided to start their own blogs using my e-mail address, it has become literally impossible to log into my own page. In order to re-simplify my life, I am going to change my address to Cestlaviegirl.blogspot.com. I'll keep reminding over the next few days, because once I change the address...the old one is gone forever.

Since it is Friday, I am going to end the week by doing the Oprah-thing and listing "A few Things I Think Are Pretty Great." In other words, things I am thankful for:

1) I am thankful to be sitting in this lovely sitting room and writing while watching the golfers on this beautiful course.

2) I am thankful that we are headed to Atlanta to watch The Boy play ball again today.

3) I am thankful that the Little One has ammended her vegetarianism to "semi-vegetariansim" by adding back wings, fried chicken and hot dogs.

4) I appreciate the fact that every morning, The Husband gives me The Kiss on his way out the door, no matter how hurried, busy, or annoyed with me he is...

5) I love the way the Little One comes stumbling quietly into my room every morning and says "I'm starving to death."

6) I love getting the phone call from The Rebel on her way to work every morning where she recounts all of the drama of her previous evening....and then proceeds to begin a new day full of the same stuff.

7) I like the early morning IM from Big Sister saying good morning (even though I have to ignore it to finish my writing)

8) I like my first cup of coffee that I make so strong that most people would complain...but makes me feel like I am in France.

9) I like staring at my little group of perfume bottles and taking a minute to figure out which one I'll choose for the day...(well, there had to be a shallow one).

10 ) I like Fridays because it feels like I've successfully made it though another week...

So until next week, when the address will be Cestlaviegirl on Thurs.....

On Winning Games and Becoming a Vegetarian

The Boy won his game yesterday. It was not pretty, but in the end, they pulled it out. He even picked a guy off second when he was pitching, which was something he didn't think he could do. It's all about learning the game, isn't it. He was rewarded later in the day by the universe. Tom Glavine (former Atlanta Brave and Hall of Fame player-to-be) was at the park, and he signed The Boy's hat. He worried all the way home that he had signed it in a place that might "sweat off". Oh to be 11...win your game...and get a great autograph.

After the game, we went to an restaurant that The Husband use to take me on some first dates. I was very excited to go, as I was feeling under the weather and needed a boost. I tried to explain the history of it to the kids...but they were only interested in the menu. The Boy wanted his cheeseburger with barbecue sauce on the side. This has been his same order for 3 years...he never veers...and Little One has decided to become a vegetarian. We had to go through every item on the menu and discuss whether or not it came from an animal. She settled on a grilled cheese, but lusted after my chicken. (The Husband reminded me that The Rebel was also a vegetarian once for about 6 hours...) When we got home last night, Little One requested a piece of left-over pizza, forgetting that it had pepperoni on it. The Husband waited until she finished it to remind her of this. She looked at me with her beautiful eyes and said "Does it have to count?" Well, of course it doesn't. I told her she was still a vegetarian if she wanted to be....

The Brother-in-Law sent me a note about yesterday's blog...it is not to be repeated, but I sensed he was making fun of my beauty products discussion. I would just like to say to him that I did warn the male readers beforehand...and he, being a man, just cannot understand the necessity of things like this. However, he is a stellar (new favorite word) Brother-in-Law, so I subconsciously pay attention to his comments....

Ok, that is it for today. Breakfast has to be re-vamped since the Little One is off of bacon. Though I admire her convictions, I am thinking it is going to require a trip to the grocery store...

Until tomorrow, when The Boy advances in his tournament, but the Little One cannot have a hot dog at the concessions stand...I'll keep you posted...

Chick Stuff

A mini-chick blog today. I like to say that upfront for all of my male readers (notice how I assume there are thousands) so that they don't dive in without warning. I would like to let the guys know that if you are an Atlanta Braves fan, please check out The Boy's blog at www.bravesfan144.blogspot.com. Here you get a daily update on the Braves from the eyes of a 6th grade boy. It doesn't get any sweeter than that.

Ok, on with the shallow stuff:

1) I mortgaged my house and tried a Tracie Martyn product. I read about how Kate Winslet swears by the body resculpting lotion...and if you have seen her lately, you know that she is definitely doing something right. So instead of just assuming that she is exercising and eating right, I assume that the lotion is the answer. I have been using it for a week and am encouraged by the results. It says you won't see results for 6 weeks, but that worries me when I do a daily cost/usage break down. However, I can see already that everything looks firmer and tighter. The down-side is the smell...I will keep you posted.

2) Laura Mercier Body Make up: This sounds like some kind of horrible make up that would get on everything, but it isn't. It is a light, great smelling lotion that kind of evens everything out. In other words, if you have been going to travel ball games every weekend and you have a million tan lines, you can put this on when you go to the pool and feel a little more "even".

3) Vitamin E cream from the Body Shop. Listen, this stuff is inexpensive and it feels great. I use it at night and my skin looks great in the morning. If you get too much sun on your face, put some on...it is a great product.

4) Anything from the Body Shop that smells like coconut. I am addicted to that smell. Their coconut body butter and cream are terrific...and again, they are priced right.

5) Touche Eclat from Yves Saint Laurent. This little tube of concealer/brightener is addictive. You can put it on 10 times a day and it never builds up or looks heavy. It definitely brightens your face. You can order it on QVC if you can't find it at the cosmetic counter.

One more thing...every magazine you look at right now is touting the jean jacket. At first glance, this seems so 80's. It harkens me back to the light denim jacket I had with the pink and green flower on the back...oh my goodness. But the new ones are great. I bought the kind of worn one from J Crew several months ago and I love it. It has a great shape and weight. You can wear it with anything from shorts to sundresses. It looks especially good with pencil skirts and heels.

Ok, that's it for today. Off to The Boy's travel ball tournament...the kids are still sleeping which probably gives me 10 minutes to decide what to wear...

The Day After

The birthday was a success. Little One was Princess for a day. This morning, when she and best friend (still in tow) came stumbling out of the bedroom, messy hair and all, the first words out of her mouth were "It's all over". I reminded her of all the activities we still had planned for today, but it really didn't quell her disappointment. I guess there is something about being the "focus" of a day that really matters...especially at 10.

In-line skates were the big gift, and they got a lot of wear yesterday. The other "biggie" gift was a super-sized stuffed Panda bear. Little One has an addicition to stuffed animals. There must be 672 piled under her bed and in her closet, but she always asks for more for any special day. Any trip requires her bringing at least 10 along. The Husband has been forced on many occasions to limit the number she can tote.

The Boy rolled with the day and semi-showed off for the best friend. It is interesting to see this side of him. It is interesting to hear what he thinks is impressive. He kept talking loudly about how he would "soon be getting a phone". He somehow thought this made him look like an "older man". I quietly reminded him that he was not getting a phone anytime soon, but he just smiled and ignored me.

The birthday cake was a purple kitten with yarn...one of the cutest I've ever seen. Little One insisted on eating the face which made the cutting of the cake a little tricky. We had friends and family at the cake gathering...all in all a festive day.

So I'll wrap up quickly today because there are chocolate chip pancakes to make this morning. Then there is the pool, baseball practice and well, you get the picture...

So until tomorrow, when birthdays and parties are over, and we return to normal life...

Happy Birthday to Little One

It was a fun weekend. The Boy had a baseball travel tournament in Cherokee, North Carolina. These are always fun, but this one was especially great since we won all four games and the tournament.

When I was a little girl, my 3 brothers played baseball and my dad was the coach. This meant that when I was not practicing for the swim team or swimming at a meet, I was at the ball park. These are such good memories for me. I would sit in the dug out and keep score for my dad. Most of the time, I had a crush on one of the players, especially as I got older. Of course they never knew it, as I probably didn't say 5 words all season. But that didn't stop me from loving every minute of it.

Big Sister asked me last night if I get tired sometimes of all of The Boy's baseball. The last few months have been consumed with ball, and when All Stars begin next week, it will continue. I explained to her that I don't at all. It brings back those good feelings of when I was a little girl. I like being at the park. These days, we have a really nice group of parents who have become friends over the course of the season. A couple of the moms have become my really good friends, and I am so thankful for that at a point in life when you don't expect to make new friends as much anymore(especially me, who it takes a while to bond with).

We generally stay at a mediocre hotel and eat lots of junky food all weekend, but the boys have a blast, the little sisters wear their "baseball sisters" t-shirts and cheer....and the parents hoot and holler and behave in altogether embarrassing, but fun ways...

On another subject, today is the Little One's birthday. She will be 10 years old this afternoon around 2:00. I was thinking last night that maybe 10 years old is the cut-off for being called the Little One...but I have decided that in an effort not to break my heart, I will extend that age until 12 years old....so Happy Birthday to the Little One, who will have her best friend over to spend the night. They will skate on the driveway since she is getting new in-line skates...they will watch videos until late...and they will eat a gorgeous chocolate cake with a purple and yellow kitten in icing....the perfect 10 year old day....

And one more random, yet important subject...the Big Sister has become a jewelry-maker. She has started a little business on www.thelittlejewelrybox.blogspot.com. Her designs are really creative and unique...not to mention reasonably priced. I have already received many compliments on the earrings and necklace she made for me. If you go to her site and buy something, please let her know you heard it here....and maybe she will give me a discount on my next purchase...

So until tomorrow, when the Little One will not be so little any more...

It's Hard To Be Good Every Day

The Husband told me I need to "up my game". He feels my readers are being bored on a daily basis. The problem is, I have no "game". The title of my blog is "C'est la Vie...A Day in the Life...". Once again, I have to explain that I am not working towards a Pulitzer here. I am merely telling the story of my life on a day to day basis, with an emphasis on fashion, France and family. I will admit that the last few weeks have been overly heavy on family stuff, but if I am narrating my life, I have to report on each episode. And besides, after 81 straight blogs, it becomes difficult to...I'll use a baseball analogy since that is relevant to my life....knock it out of the park every day.

Anyway, today I was going to regale you with the story of my visit to the new strip mall with the Little One. We were informed that there was a new Tj Maxx and Target, so yesterday, we went exploring and had a lovely time perusing each store. However, after being reprimanded by The Husband, I have decided to speak on more worldly matters:

1) The President took Michelle to New York City for a date. They went to the Blue Hill restaurant in the Village and they saw "Joe Turners Come and Gone" on Broadway. Now if you listen to Fox News, you would think he has committed a crime. I have mixed feelings on this one. He actually paid for the meal and show...however we (tax payers) paid for the plane ride from Washington, which came in at about $24,000. If we weren't in this awful economy, it probably wouldn't bother me at all, but it did seem to be bad timing. I understand that they want to get out of the White House some, and to be honest, what's the difference between flying to NY and flying to Camp David? I certainly think we can cut him some slack on this one. But hey...put a tie on Mr. President. I don't like that casual look...and besides, Michelle looked so beautiful in her black dress and heels...

2) Yet another nude photo of Carla Bruni (wife of the French President Sarkozy) has surfaced. It is a 10 year old picture taken by famed photographer Pam Hansen. It's black and white it's more artsy than Playboy. In fact, the French probably haven't given it a thought. An anonymous buyer snapped it up for $19,000...there is some speculation that her husband bought it....Again, she is just so gorgeous and cool...If you go on Stylist.com, you can flip through dozens of pictures of her through the years...I think she was one of the best models of MY generation.

3) I was disappointed in the President's speech in Germany. I feel no need to reach out to the Muslim population. I also feel no need to disrespect them. I do not understand the President's need to constantly apologize for any actions that the US took after 911. I feel he disrespects our country and our people by pretending that he speaks for us on this. WE were attacked and we responded in a way that our President at the time deemed appropriate. There is a real arrogance in post-judging this. He may regret this if we are attacked on his watch...

4) So tragic about the Air France plane disappearing. It was the worst plane crash since 2001. Isn't it strange how little news time it has received since there are no pictures of wreckage?

Ok, so that's it. It's summer time, so my news-watching is at a minimum. My Wall Street Journal is not delivered here, so I am a bit out of touch...which is ok with me. Unless anything important happens during travel ball this weekend, I may have to come back to the strip mall story next week...

So until next week, when I will make a concerted effort to "up my game", while still discussing "a Day In the Life" of me...

The View From My Window

I'm looking out the window at golfers. I am so happy to be where I am at this minute. As I have written before in this blog, my beloved mother-in-law passed away a few years ago. Before she died, she and my father-in-law bought a house on the golf course where The Husband works. She spent a lot of time lovingly fixing it up and decorating it. Every inch of the house is still filled with her spirit.
For the first year after she died, I couldn't walk into the house without crying. It was a sad reminder of her unfinished business...a reminder that she was taken from us too soon. My father-in-law felt the same way. When he would visit from New Jersey, he would try to stay at the house, but it depressed him. He felt the loss more profoundly here than anywhere else.

But right before school let out, The Husband and I were here one day just checking on things when it occurred to me that it didn't feel sad anymore. It felt good...and it felt like where I wanted to be. So we decided to spend some time here this summer, and it is wonderful. We are literally two minutes from The Husband's office, so we get to be near him...and he gets to avoid the 45 minute drive to and from work each day. There is a terrific pool and work out room, so we get to take advantage of that too. But let me say right now with absolute certainty and selfishness that being able to sit in the little sun room off the bedroom and write while I look out the window is the best part. The view is so beautiful. The Husband tells me we are on the ninth whole, but all I know is that I could sit here and stare out the window forever. Every room in the house has a spectacular view, which means I can enjoy it while I am writing, cooking, cleaning...well,you get the idea.

The other nice thing about it is the strong feeling that my mother-in-law is near. I feel her in every room. I find little notes that she has written in drawers and it makes me cry. I find half empty bottles of perfume that I never knew she wore and it intrigues me, because as well as I thought I knew her, I am still learning about her. I find boxes of recipes that she has torn out from magazines, and I intend to try each one since she didn't get a chance to. My mother-in-law had more energy, passion and spirit than most people. I am hoping to channel some of that wonderful spirit by being here.

So I'll sit here and continue to write this morning. It's raining gently, but the golfers continue to go by. The Husband has made the 2 minute drive to the office, the Boy is still asleep, and the Little One is exploring somewhere outside. All is right with the world...

Until tomorrow, when I will continue to enjoy the peace of our summer vacation...and remember Rose....

"Cooking is Like Love. It Should be Entered Into With Abandon."

It is 8:05am in my house and still quiet. I cannot begin to express what joy this brings me. The Husband was very quiet in his departure this morning, and so The Boy and The Little One remain asleep. Big Sister slept over last night since the son-in-law was working the night, and even she made a quiet escape. So I am left to write in peace which puts a big smile on my face. I am acutely aware that it could be interrupted at any moment, so I will enjoy it while it lasts.

I am reading a terrific book called 'A Homemade Life' by Molly Wizenberg. It is a sort of memoir interspersed with recipes that make up her life. I love this kind of book, and even more so since she spent a lot of time in Paris.

I did not grow up in the kitchen learning to cook at the side of my mom. My memories of childhood food are fairly benign. Meatloaf, hamburgers and the occasional pork chop were my mom's fare. It wasn't that she was a bad cook...she wasn't. But she didn't love cooking. It was a chore that had to be done in order to take care of her family. Ms. Wizenburg shares several stories in her book about recipes that she cooked growing up. I only remember 3 recipes from my mom: Pot Roast with cream of mushroom soup, orange bundt cake, and curried fruit. These were all delicious, but you now understand that there was absolutely no coherent set of recipes that defined my childhood. The only memory of myself cooking that I have is relived at every family holiday. When I was 10, my big brother was home from college. I adored him, and I was determined to do something nice for him. I decided to bake some blueberry muffins. I pulled out the box (at that age, I thought every recipe started with a box) and read the directions. I did pretty well until I came to the part that called for "one whole egg". I remember considering this for a moment...and then cracking the egg into a bowl...and then....mushing up the shell and throwing it in too. To this day, I really don't fault myself for that logic. One whole egg is one whole egg. I completed the recipe, popped them in the oven, and when they were complete, I proudly served them to my two older brothers. I remember waiting nervously in the kitchen for their response. Suddenly, I heard them burst out laughing, yelling "She didn't". Well, she did, and that story has followed me around for years. Any company that ever entered our house always got to hear how I interpreted "one whole egg" as "one whole egg".

Fast forward several years, and my next important food lesson came from my best friend Benedicte. She had moved to the states from Paris with her young family, and her family spoke little English. Enter me, another young mother dying to use her college major french...and you have a match made in heaven. Benedict was an unbelievable cook. It didn't matter what was in her refrigerator...she could create a fabulous meal in an hour from anything. At the beginning of our relationship, it totally intimidated me, but like any french woman, she had no patience with that part of me. She basically ordered me to "pay attention and learn". And so I did. My poor cooking skills began to improve little by little. I had plenty of mistakes along the way, but at least I was trying...and there were no more egg shells in any recipes.

A few more years down the road, I met my wonderful mother-in-law, who was also a fabulous cook. I went from trying to be a French cook to trying to be an Italian cook. These days, I have given up trying to be anything but a good cook. Our meals are often rushed...and too often a product of what can be done between work, baseball practice and any other activity. But more and more, I am becoming known as a decent cook...and this pleases me immensely. I even heard Big Sister and Rebel discussing the fact that mine was the best house to be at on a holiday the other day. This was a stellar moment for me, because for years they use to tell me how my cooking would never live up to the cooking of my sister-in-law, Betty. Now I know in fact that it still doesn't, but just the fact that my toughest critics think I am pretty good...well, that's enough for me.

So until tomorrow, when I will compile a small group of recipes that define my cooking...and I will continue to enjoy these peaceful mornings...

Trivial Pursuit

A few days ago, The Husband sent me the following forward that a friend had sent him. Now I hate forwards. If I don't know who sent it (and sometimes even when I do), I delete them. But the following information was so random and interesting that I'm going to share it. You won't necessarily be any smarter after you read this, but you will be a little more useful on Trivia Night.

1) No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver or purple. ( I promise...I spent half an hour testing this one out.)

2) 'Dreamt' is the only word in the English language that ends in the letters 'mt'.

3) Our eyes are always the same size from birth. (How can that be?)

4) The sentence 'The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog' uses every letter of the alphabet.

5) The words 'racecar', 'kayak' and 'level' are the same whether they are read from left to right or right to left. (palindromes)

6) 'Typewriter' is the longest word that can be made as using the letters only on one row of the keyboard.

7) A 'jiffy' is an actual unit of time for 1/100 of a second. (This will definitely affect how I use this word in the future...)

8) A snail can sleep for three years. ( The Boy can too)

9) Babies are born without kneecaps. They don't appear until the child reaches 2 to 6 years of age. (How can I have had 4 babies and not know this?)



10) In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.



11) If the population of China walked past you, 8 abreast, the line would never end because of the rate of reproduction.

12) Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors. (Doesn't that sound like the title to a novel?)



13) Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite. (I have no way to disprove this one)

14) The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket.

15) There are more chickens in the world than people.

16) Winston Churchill was born in a ladies' room during a dance.

17) Women blink nearly twice as much as men. ( I spent 10 minutes trying to come up with a smart alec comment on this one, but I've got nothing...)

Don't you just love useless yet interesting information? I have no idea when I will be able to use any of this, but I'm sure I'll work it in somewhere...



One more random piece of information. I had been looking forward to that movie "New in Town" with Harry Connick jr and Renee Zellwegger coming out on video. The Husband and I had meant to go see it at the theater, but never made it. I went ahead and bought it last week, certain that it would be a 'repeat' choice. Bad decision. It was very mediocre. Harry is always fun to watch...I loved him in Will and Grace. And I sometimes like Renee...depending on the movie. But this one was very slow. Every funny scene in the movie was shown in the previews (don't you hate when they do that?).

The next movie I am counting the days for is 'The Proposal' with Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock. I've watched that 'Definitely Maybe' with him in it a million times. And she is just so cute...plus it looks like her clothes will be neat. If it isn't good, I am going to be really disappointed.


And one more thing...the Bachelorette....what is with this guy Wes? I mean, he sings ok, but come on, does she not think that maybe he's just there to promote a music career? I think I'd ask him to put up the guitar. And the foot fetish guy...he's creeping me out. The guy I liked originally, David. is crazy.... total anger management issues...scary. I officially admit that my first impressions were obviously wrong. The Juan guy is way too smooth. She sent home the Sasha guy who actually seemed 'with it 'and nice, too. She sent him home because he had "never had his heart broken". I didn't understand that at all. And here's the thing...it's really girlie when the guys go to Jillian and say "there are guys here that aren't here for you". Come on guys...she's a big girl...let her figure it out for herself.....A couple of the guys seem ok, like Kato or Katar or Kipper or whatever the heck his name is... but I don't trust my judgement anymore. And besides...I'm very embarrassed that I'm watching it anyway...

So until tomorrow, when it is Tuesday trivia somewhere, and you will be armed with some great information........

First Official Day Of Summer

It's 8:30 and my house is still quiet on a Monday morning. This is what I about summer. Today is the first official day of summer vacation. Last night was the first official night of summer bedtime. After much negotiation, it was decided that Little One will go to bed at 10 and The Boy at 11. The Boy did not settle on this easily. His negotiation skills have been stellar ever since he was three. If he doesn't become a major league ball player, I think he may have future as a litigator. When the discussion began, I threw out 10:30. "Oh, come on mom...you know I'm never tired. (This, in fact, is true. Score a point for The Boy) I should get at least 12:00." Well that's not happening because an 11 year old cannot stay up later than his parents. So I countered with 10:45. "Mom, the Braves game will only be in the first inning when they are on the coast! Please!" Ok, another valid point. So I made my final offer...11:00. He shook his head as if he had suffered a defeat, but accepted it semi-gracefully, knowing that he once again had pushed me to my limit.

On to something more important. I'd like to announce to all of the fashion followers that the lovely Cole Haan London T-straps that I have drooled over for months finally went on sale for one day. I was furniture shopping a few weeks ago when the sales girl complimented me on my shoes (JCrew animal print heels). I thanked her and complimented her on the sandals she was wearing...Cole Haan sandals. I told her that I was dying for the CH London t-straps...and she said, "I have those and I LOVE them. They are so comfortable!" Well, I told her I was very jealous, but that the price was just too much for me. She suddenly ran to her desk to grab her very expensive blackberry. "I saw them on a one-day sale somewhere today." I told her that I had already reviewed the daily sales from Bloomindale's and Bluefly...and they weren't there. She continued to scroll and read. "Yes! Sak's One-day." And sure enough, when I finished up. I ran home and looked them up...and there they were...and as fate would have it...only 1 pair left...In My Size. I knew this was the universe telling me that I should have them. So I took the plunge and ordered. Let me just announce that they are spectacular. Of course, they are 4 inch heels, which again puts me at about 6'2''...but they are gorgeous...and as the girl said...comfortable. I loved them so much that I went by the furniture store to tell her the good news and thank her. I swear she was as happy as I was. This is the thing about girls who love shoes...there is that bond...

One more item...there is a great blog I found called shelterrific.com. It is full of good recipes and unique home ideas. Another good one is WhoWhatWearDaily.com. Two former fashion editors review clothes trends in a neat way. If you love fashion, this is a good one.

That is it for today. Summer blogs have to be a bit shorter. I hear the steps of the Little One coming down the hall which means my 5 minutes of peace have come to an end...

So until tomorrow, when I will force myself to start a bit earlier...