Wait, you can run out of ketchup?

When I met the man who would become my husband (lucky guy), he was raising two children. I didn't even have a fish. I had pretty much changed apartments when my lease ended each year, moving condiments along with furniture, clothes, and art work. He had lived in the same house for almost a decade. As our relationship progressed, I eventually moved in with him (ok, it was only after 3 months).

My trips to the grocery store, prior to moving in with him, had pretty much amounted to an average of $50 a week. I ordered out on Friday nights. During our first month living together, I went to get the ketchup from the fridge. Where was the ketchup? Surely, there was ketchup in this fridge? I just used it last week. I moved leftover containers around, moved milk and pop bottles. No ketchup. I moved the salad bowl. No ketchup. M, I said, where is the ketchup? M replied one of the kids probably finished it, and there would be a new one in the pantry. Wait. What? Finished the ketchup? The huge bottle of ketchup was gone? How was this possible?

Fast forward, 8 years. I ran to the grocery store the other day just to pick up the basics we were out of. $45.18 the cashier said. $45.18 for a quick basic grocery store run. I went home and put the groceries away. I had to move the extra bottles of ketchup and salad dressing in the pantry, so I had more room for chicken and beef broth (Swanson, only, I have standards). Not only did I laugh at the extra bottles of condiments in the pantry, but when did chicken and beef broth become staples in my pantry? Probably about the same time I learned you can run out of ketchup.

Can You Be Struck By Lightning Twice?

The other day a friend and I were having a conversation about choosing to be happy. She thought about a friend of hers, who really has a hard life, beyond what any of us can imagine. But yet, this friend is always smiling, upbeat, happy. She makes a choice to be happy.

Today, when I woke up later than I wanted to, had to fight with my 7 year old about getting up (my name is now Meanie Mommy), and barely had time to wash my hair (it needed it in that cancel a date because I need to wash my hair way), I chose to be happy. When my windshield wipers wouldn't shut off, I thought: well, as annoying as this is, it's better to have ones that won't shut off than ones that won't come on. When I was stuck in traffic for 20 minutes for unknown reasons, I turned up the radio and had a dance party (the guy in the Audi next to me laughed). When I got to work and didn't even know where to start, I thought well at least I will be busy. When I realized I forgot my lunch, I remembered I had a can of soup in my desk. Happy. Happy. Joy. Joy.

When my bosses asked me to come into a conference room and told me my job was being eliminated along with 35 others, I smiled and said this must be hard for you. I could tell there was something going on all morning. The higher level boss said: I fought so hard to get you on board full time, I didn't want this. Your performance was superior, I am so sorry. My direct boss looked like she may be sick. I felt bad for them. I had to sit through this once, they had to do it 35 times. I know they didn't see it coming either (not to be a HR professional here, but had they seen it coming, they'd have never converted me to their payroll. I am now a liability on their unemployment costs).

Somehow over the course of 6 months, I managed to have enough stuff in my office to fill 3 boxes. I loaded my car in 2 trips. I smiled the entire time. I said hi to people in the hallway, congratulated one person on their recent wedding, wished people good luck. The wipers wiped the entire way home, the sun was shining.

I chose to be happy. I've been through this before, not even 2 years ago. I didn't see it coming this time, but I was far more prepared. I hated my long commute and I did leave my lunch at home. I wasn't much in the mood for soup anyway.

Cinderella Should've Poked Cupid with Her Glass Slipper

I haven't celebrated Valentine's Day in probably 8 or 9 years. I truthfully don't remember how this lack of celebration occurred. My guess is, it started as a way to save money and was just never introduced back into the gift buying holidays. If it wasn't for the fact that my son had to do Valentine cards for school or that jewelry commercials suddenly appeared again, I wouldn't have known this day was approaching.

I find the holiday annoying. Here is why:

1. that necklace, the one that will show just how much you love me... 50 other women will get it too, probably with the same little bear and in the same red box.
   
2. the flowers, eventually they will die, and guess who will get the joy of watering them, picking up dead leaves, cutting the stems again to salvage what is still alive, and then eventually tossing them all out and washing the vase...
3. the candy/chocolates, the kids will eat them, the dog will find them when the kids leave them out, all the good ones will be gone, and if I do get to eat them I will later have caloric intake regret.
4. for the love of God, what if I just want to go out to eat and all you celebratory people are taking forever at all the tables you booked months ago to stare at each other and drink a glass of wine? Puke.
5. the proposals. I hate holiday proposals. The only thing I hate more than holiday proposals is hearing about holiday proposals.
   
6. why does there have to be a day dedicated to "love" and "intimacy", shouldn't every day be dedicated to such things in a relationship? Or is it just easier to pay for a dinner and roses one night a year than do something every day to show caring, respect, thoughtfulness? I rather have 10 days of the laundry loads actually being changed, be able to watch tv in my house, and have the bathrooms cleaned, than one night at a restaurant with a bunch of other couples, and a high cost menu because of the date on the calendar.

To Cheat or Not to Cheat?

Like many woman, I had to search long and hard, through the river, through the woods, through rain, through snow, street after street, zip code after zip code to finally find him. The One. Not just any one, but THE one...and now...I am thinking of cheating.

My hair stylist is amazing, I love him. I wish he lived with me. It took me decades to find him. He knows me: my pension for the weekend pony tail, my hatred of straightening my hair too often, my desire to make my curly thick hair look thin and straight. He knows that I will often stretch every 12 weeks into every 15, he knows I do a weekly hair mask, he knows I am laid back, but yet not one for a change. He knows I didn't know how to use a blow dryer until high school. Seriously, Close your mouths, it's true.

For several months, I have been thinking about honey brown and red highlights for my thick main of dark brown, practically black hair. The same hair, that with the exception of added layers and length changes, has remained virtually the same since I was 14. I have thought about this so much, in fact, that lately I have really been convincing myself to go for it. Yes, me, the one who never does anything damaging, that prefers traditional dress, that will wear pearls with a dress, that owns the same shoes in multiple basic colors, that uses night cream at 33, is thinking about being daring with my hair.

But my very fabulous hair stylist works at a very pricey spa and doesn't color hair cheaply. So I am thinking about going elsewhere for this daring new look. The problem is, I only want to go elsewhere for color, not for my cuts. Inevitably, my stray will be found out like the husband who returns early from a business trip or the wife that shows up at the office late.

So, blog readers: do I talk to my wonder hair stylist about my cost fear or do I go someplace else and maybe make the most needed man in my life upset.

This is It

I sat in my car waiting for the kids to be dismissed from school. I was thinking of the million things I didn't yet accomplish for the day. I took a nap and that was a mistake, I lost out on valuable prep time for my return to full time work next week. I missed out on study time for my certification exam coming up. Why does dismissal get later and later I thought? I have so much to do. I have so much to do because I am going back to working full time.

Wait, I am going back to full time work. It was like I was just realizing this. I turned it over in my thoughts again. All of a sudden it was real, as if, for the first time I was now aware of it. I thought it again to myself. Then, it dawned on me, today is the 2nd last time I will be sitting in this parking lot waiting for the kids.

G and H came out first. They were deep in conversation about personalization of nouns. Last Friday, they were deep in conversation about Martin Luther King, Jr. I am gonna miss this, I thought. They are 6 months apart and in the same grade. They are like siblings.

T came out next and showed me his signed card saying he'd always wear his seat belt. The police department must have spoke to his class today. He was so proud.

On the way home, I reminded G he can only do the homework for that day, he can't work ahead. K, who looks like a pre-teen now, wait, she is a pre-teen..., said do you want me to make sure he doesn't work ahead on days I am here? No, I said, I will make sure grandpa knows and grandma too. OK she said. She's a mini adult, I thought.

We drove to grandma's. H was proudly saying she hasn't missed a day of school. T was saying he hasn't missed a full day. G was talking about dress down day on Friday. I looked over at K. I remember when she was born. It was 12 years ago Sunday. Where did those 12 years go, I thought? I looked in the rear view at G. He's 7. What will I miss?

Hi Ho Hi Ho It's Off To Work I Go

The last few months, I made no secret of my desire to return to full time work to the person who mattered most: my part time job boss. She made no promises, stated it was her wish and need, but if it happened it wouldn't be until March, but she couldn't guarantee, no promises, if we can budget it (you see the theme here). I wrapped my head around the fact that in March I would potentially have a full time offer. Since I have serious commitment issues (I passed out at my own wedding, my husband still brings this up)...I still job searched, but not heavily. I had a great interview with another company and was feeling good about things in general. Heck, 2011 was starting off very well and looked promising. (Cue the rainbows and butterflies now...).

Then last Friday, before I even had a full cup of my morning coffee (those who know me well, know the importance of this), I was offered a full time position to start asap. My first thought: it's not March. My second thought: I need study time. My third thought: I had a really great interview (cue the sirens... we have a commitment issue, someone call it in). My fourth thought: (which only came to my head when I looked at my boss, who was smiling and eagerly awaiting my response), I need this.

I function better with an overflowing plate of "to dos", I feel better about myself when I am taking care of myself (...and cue the sirens, Houston, we have a commitment issue...), I am a better person and a better mother when I feel complete. And the truth is... having a career completes me (ok so not as romantic as Tom Cruise in Jerry McGuire, but it's true).

So as of January 24, I will once again be working a full time job and life will return to "normal"...

...or will it. Stay tuned.

Coffee with My Early 20s Self

I often over hear young women talking at the mall, a restaurant, or at a bar about their lives: The ups and downs, the dating, the lack of dating, what they wish they had, how awful their parents are, if they could just _____ (fill in the blank with pretty much anything).

Truthfully, these conversations make me feel wise for my age (that's a nice way of saying old). I smile to myself thinking back to when I was their age, so often I want to say _____ (fill in the blank with some uncool parental advice).

If I could have coffee with the me of my early 20s (well, she'd probably order a Blue) I'd have a lot to say:

1. Don't lose sleep over not having it all figured out, that's impossible, and it will work out.
2. That the credit card debt racked up during and post college that keeps her up at night, will be paid off (she'll enjoy a great night out in celebration when the last payment is made).
3. One day her mom will be her friend (I may have to administer the Heimlich to keep her from choking when I mention this one).
4. To not only respect herself more, but to expect respect from others, she's worth it.
   
5. That she's stronger than she thinks and the years to come will show her just how resilient and strong she really is.
6. That the ER trip to the emergency room when she's 7 months pregnant, will result in everything being fine.
   
7. That her true friends will always be there for her and she'll see just how much as they become more like family.
   
8. That any man that makes her cry instead of holding her when she does is just a boy and not worth her time. (even if he looks good in faded jeans and is a great kisser, especially him).
   
9. To enjoy coming home to a silent apartment (some day she'll think about checking into a hotel for the same peace, and one weekend she will).
   
10. That true happiness really does come from within. (an occasional glass of wine helps).
11. That one day she'll not only use that crock pot, but wish she had another (and then a 3rd).
12. That a hot bubble bath with lavender salts, a good book, and a glass of wine will be a happy replacement to standing in line outside during the winter in a mini skirt to pay a cover charge.

Now about that bath...