These two kids I know ...

My gorgeous friend Mandy (pictured above) and her good-lookin' man-friend Grant (pictured below) ... are getting hitched on Saturday! (well, they're kind of already married. It's complicated.) And I get to be there to see it! Woop woop.

I can't wait till they start making babies.

Speaking of babies. I told my little bundle of joy that we would be driving 6 hours tomorrow starting at 4:30 a.m., and she informed me that she won't be going because she will throw up in the car. Gosh, I really hope that doesn't happen.

Things that made me smile today.

I asked La how her day was, and she answered: "Horrifying. But still fun."

She had chocolate covered pretzels for a snack at After School today, (and when you give this kid chocolate, you might as well be giving her speed laced with crack. CRAZY side effects, let me tell you) and therefore pretended she was on a roller coaster the entire way home.

She just came up to me and asked, "Mom, can you snuggle me now? Because snuggling you always makes everything better."

I'd better go do that.

I don't deserve a clean house.

La and I did not leave the house once today. We stayed in and I cleaned my place like I never have before. It took six hours. I got down on the floor with a bucket and rag and scrubbed my baseboards. I washed four loads of laundry, folded it, and put it away. I sprayed my bathroom tiles with bleach water and scoured them. I even polished my cabinet doors and handles until they shone.

Let me just tell you that I hate, hate, HATE cleaning. I only did it because I had a 5:00 appointment tonight to show my condo to a prospective buyer, and I thought I'd have a better chance of selling it if it was sparkling clean.

Well, the buyer postponed until tomorrow night. Which is fine. It just means I have to keep my place clean for 24 more hours. Easy, right? Well. Just wait till I tell you what went down an hour ago in my kitchen.

Before I get into that, I have to say that no matter how hard I try, I'm careless and clumsy whenever I cook all the dang time. There's just nothing I can do about it. However, tonight while I was making dinner (brown butter seared salmon over a romaine bed ... along with spicy tomato blue cheese soup), I paid extra attention to every move I made. I poured liquids with extreme care. I sliced and chopped with patient accuracy. I CLEANED UP AS I WENT (mom). I dripped one tiny little pin-prick-sized speck of soup onto my freshly scoured stovetop, and wiped it right up with lightning-quick reflexes. No harm done! Phew. It was going so well.

But then it was time to "puree" the soup. Pureeing hot soup can be challenging. Especially when you are using a super-sonic commercial drink blender. And especially when you decide to fill said blender within an inch of the lid so that you only have to blend it in two batches, rather than three. (Cutting corners. I KNOW. Shame on me.) And especially when you accidentally flip the switch to "hyperspeed" before you attempt the "low" setting.

Picture hot tomato soup all over my face, in my hair, all over my clothes, and all over my damn kitchen. Even on the ceiling.

I'm hopeless, I tell you. Hopeless.

Girl, you better REPRESENT.

She wanted to be a cheerleader today. This is what we came up with.

Go Tigers!

Those Crazies on That Bus

We took the bus to school this morning. It was cold. We were late. So we took the bus. Come to think of it, pretty much every morning is exactly the same. It's cold, we're running late, therefore we take the bus. Today wasn't anything special I guess. (Except that it wasn't yesterday anymore. Phew.)

However, it's not every day that we get to ride The Bus With the Window in the Back! It's a very special bus. La and I like to play this little game where I go, "Do you think we'll get The Bus With the Window in the Back today?" and she goes, "I don't know mama! What do you think?" And I say, "I don't know La! What do you think?"

Isn't our game cool?

*crickets*

So, this bus (which we rode today) has windows going down each side like any old city bus, but here's the kicker ... It has one extra window in the veeeeerry back that looks out at the road behind us, specifically at car that's immediately following the bus. (Bet you didn't see that one coming!) We always get very excited when we get this bus in the mornings, because that means La gets to stare out of the back of the bus and wave manically at unsuspecting drivers, completely CREEPING THEM OUT; and I get to sit four rows in front of her and pretend not to know her. It's just another one of our clever games we like to play.

The point is, we were very happy this morning.

And who would be creeped out by this sweet little squirt anyway?

I mean COME ON. What's not to love? Especially considering the giant babushka encircling her dome.

Fail.

It's been one of those days where no matter how hard I try, I just can't do anything right. Not one thing. Three events in particular are standing out in my mind:

1. La and I woke up a few minutes late this morning. I scrambled to get us ready, and just as I'm shoving her lunch into her backpack in preparation to leave, I notice a piece of paper sticking out of her take-home folder. I unfold the damn thing about eight different ways, and discover that it's a colossal, life-sized poster that La was supposed to "fill in" with photos and stories and drawings about herself over the weekend. It is now Tuesday. Attached to the gargantuan poster is a yellow sheet explaining that La has been chosen to be the much-esteemed "Big Cheese" for the week. Something she has been waiting for her whole life, according to her. I look down at La and ask her if we can possibly work on this "when we get home tonight." She immediately bursts into tears and wails, "BUT I'VE NEVER, EVER BEEN THE BIG CHEEEEEEEEEEESE BEFORE." So, I quickly shoot an explanatory email off to my boss, get out the glue sticks, markers and photo albums, and we go to town creating a semi-passable Big Cheese poster. Yes, that's right. I make a living as a Graphic Artist, and my poor daughter goes to school with The World's Most Half-Assed Poster.
2. Today was Nacho Day at school. And I never even glanced at the school menu to see what was for lunch today. Because even if it happened to be something La likes (which is very rare, being that the only school lunch she likes is NACHOS), it wouldn't matter because I didn't have any cash in my wallet to pay for it. I know. What kind of mother doesn't have $1.80 in her wallet? ME, THAT'S WHO. I'm not even sure I have that much in my checking account. So I just blindly packed a boring old lunch without the slightest notion that it could possibly be Nacho Day. And let me tell you. I paid dearly for my oversight.
3. La has show-and-tell every Wednesday, and if it weren't for a recurring event in my Google Calendar that goes off every Tuesday night, she would never bring anything in to share with her class. Tonight I got my trusty e-mail reminder to find a show-and-tell item that begins with "O." La and I pondered this for a while, trying to find a toy ostrich or an orangoutang or something relating to the ocean. We came up with squat. Then I had the brilliant idea of bringing in one of her little plastic McDonald's Happy Meal "Shrek" figurines, because he's an OGRE!!! ... But right after I blurted that out, I remembered that I threw every single one of those away while she was in Florida for Christmas. Ouch. I spent the next 15 minutes pretending to help her find them, when I knew in reality that they were disintegrating in a landfill somewhere.

As I see it, my biggest problem is my ineptitude when it comes to planning. I just don't have the capacity to plan out a routine and stick to it. Usually things just fall into place despite my disorganization. Today they didn't. But, there's always tomorrow!

Name Change

The other morning La marched out of her bedroom holding her most cherished belonging, the stuffed puppy from Grandma Lois. She stood in the foyer and announced, "Mom! My puppy will no longer be called Pups McGuff! And he will also not be called Pupper Fluffers ANYMORE! His new name is Jim." (long pause) ... "Just like your boss!"

And then she went back in her room.

Mama's Got Style Once in a While

I went out for drinks the other night. I got all dolled up with makeup and such, and wore a cute outfit. That never happens. I had to post it on my blog so I can prove to my descendants one day that GRANNY USED TO BE HIP.

Well, granny was hip for one night, anyway, and that was last Thursday.

See?

Pants & Jacket: Forever 21 — Belt: $9 at Banana Republic — Top: Robert Rodriguez via Consignment — 1950s Bag: Thrifted

The best part is that this whole outfit cost about one dollar. Thank goodness Grandpa Cal taught me how to be frugal.

The Man Next Door

La has always been rather imaginative. Her knack for concocting complex characters out of absolutely nothing is superb. Certain professionals might label this characteristic as 'paranoid schizophrenia.' I like to call it creative genius.

A few weekends ago I became a bit concerned with this ability. I walked into our living room, and La was gazing out of the open window into the courtyard, having a detailed conversation with thin air. I watched and listened to her musings for a moment which went something like, "OH DAAAARLING! Don't you just look so cute! OH YES! And so cuddly and fuzzy too! OF COURSE! What are you doing today? I think we shall go to tea!"

But then it occurred to me that the neighbors may perceive of this display as a little whacky.

As I started toward her with the intent of removing her from the window, I noticed this:

If that isn't the sweetest little neighbor in the world, I don't know what is.

La has had numerous conversations with him since then, with some of their discussions consisting entirely of barking loudly at each other across the courtyard. (Our neighbors surely LOVE us.) Every time she says goodbye and closes the window, he howls and whimpers for her to come back. I believe they've become great pals.

A Hat

The colorful creation that's perched atop La's little nugget was constructed out of a paper plate. I think it's swell. She made it a few weeks ago, and has worn it for at least a few minutes of every day since. Over the weekend when I was photographing my condo, I got caught up in the act of purging and must have channelled my mother's spirit or something, because I PITCHED THE HAT. And I didn't even think twice about it. Until now. Should've kept that one, methinks.

La's New Year's Resolution

Every morning when I drop La off at her before-school program, I walk to her classroom and place her snow boots outside the door. The other morning I noticed a fresh batch of her kindergarten class's work displayed on the wall outside her classroom.

Here is La's depiction of her New Year's Resolution.

It says:

GON TO MY GMS HS TO BAK CIES WF HR.

Translation:

Going to my grandma's house to bake cookies with her.

As I looked at the resolutions of her classmates, I realized that La is FAR behind the others when it comes to writing. Other children in her class can write in complete sentences, using upper and lower case correctly and even using proper punctuation. However. I have to remember that when I was in kindergarten, we were expected to color in the lines and cut with scissors. That's it. I didn't learn how to write words until the first grade. La was left to her own devices to complete this project, and the fact that I can read it makes me very, very proud of my little kindergartner.

Out of Uniform Day

Every once in a while La's school has "out of uniform" day. Last Friday was one of those. La capitalizes on these opportunities to show off her fashion flair, choosing the fanciest outfit that she owns.

This past Friday, the winner was her new pink tule skirt from J. Crew, courtesy of Grandma Dale/Santa. She coupled this with a sweater that Aunt Ashley bought her last Easter.

Positively smashing.

Also, I want to mention that after much consideration, I'm going to try to sell my condo. You can see the craigslist listing right here. If I don't sell it, it's not a big deal. We'll just stay put ... But if I do sell it, that means Ella and I can finally pursue my lifelong dream of moving to Neillsville, Wisconsin.

Just kidding. (sorry grandma!)

The real plan is that we would move closer to La's school, thereby eliminating our 2-mile round-trip commute. Renting a place in her school's neighborhood would hopefully save us some cash and possibly even gain us some square-footage (and if I'm REALLY greedy, in-unit laundry). So, if anyone is in the market for a cute, cozy condo that's just two blocks from Lake Michigan and two miles from downtown Chicago (PRIME AREA, PEOPLE), let me know!

Photos by La

La stole my camera when we were up in Neillsville and took some of her signature shots. Here's Uncle Aaron with a good ol' Wisconsin-style Leinie. I love the unintentional bokeh effect of the Christmas lights reflecting in the window. Very artistic.

And here's grandma Fern cooking with two of her granddaughters. Special.

... And my personal favorite: the random, unidentified feet.

I might hang this one in the kitchen next to her other masterpiece.

Tough Stuff

See this guy? The one eating cherry pie filling straight from the can? The one with the goofy sideways grin and the friendly twinkle in his eye?

That's my old man. He looks pretty harmless, right? Jolly, even.

If you're like me when you see this photo, you just want to tousle that overgrown hair and pinch those cheeks and then go out and buy the poor guy a comb.

BUT DON'T BE FOOLED.

The minute you come within two feet of that pie filling, YOU'RE A GONNER.

(Incidentally, the look on his face in that second photo might explain a lot about why Aunt M and I are boyfriend-less. I'm just sayin.)

Snow!

... It's one of the MANY good things about winter.

Without it, we wouldn't be able to go sledding or ice skating or snow shoeing or skiing. Winter would pretty much stink if there wasn't any snow. Life just wouldn't be worth living.

Thank goodness for snow.

(can you tell that my New Year's Resolution has to do with "positivity?")

Chores

We drove back to Chicago from Cleveland today. We plowed through two separate, but equally fierce lake-effect blizzards to get here; one in Cleveland and one in Indiana. Aunt M successfully white-knuckled her way through the first storm, and I did my best to keep the Honda on the road during the second one without ending up in a ditch. My hands are still shaking, but I am very thankful that we got home safely.

The thought of unpacking our bags tonight, organizing our stuff, and getting back into our routine sounded just about as appealing as having a root canal. So La and I hung out at Aunt M's place instead. Aunt M cooked us a yummy dinner and La, in turn, helped Aunt M take her Christmas decorations down and assisted with her laundry.

The kid seems to enjoy housework. Amazing. I think she might be ready for a weekly chore list and an allowance. Ooh! And maybe if I offer to give her a dollar, she'll do all of our unpacking tomorrow night.