Sassafrass

Oh my God, I'm alive! And now back to our conversation about boobs

Last week, last week. Ohhhh yet another last week. I'm not sure if I've ever let this little blog stay alone for this long, but it was one of those weeks filled with so much work-kidstuff-daycare mayhem-Denise Richards reality TV-blahblahblah that it had to be done. Now, where were we? Oh yes, we were talking about tits.

(This is the part where my mom rolls her eyes and says, "Lovely, Jessica," which is really more like "Jess-i-cuhhh!" and is inevitably followed by her description of it clearly being Jackass Driving Day with invitations being handed out to all the dumb shit drivers on the road. I mention this only because her kind of potty mouth is the perfect - ahem - pairing for my breastage terminology. So...back to tits it is).

Many months ago at a lovely little blog gathering, Jeanne listened to my long and complicated divorce story and then told me that pursuing younger men might be a good next move and that I needed to schedule an appointment with The Boobologist immediately. And really, how can you pass up solid advice like that?

(Keep reading about our racks after the jump....you know you want to).

Where I show up just in time for dinner with a full basket of dirty laundry and ask for twenty bucks, please

It has been one long week since I visited and I feel a bit like a college student who is weary from killer finals and post-killer finals keggers at the frat barn who has returned home for a break that she swears will be packed full of working for some family friend or another and spending QT with the fam but will really be spent sleeping in late and hoping her mother does her laundry.

Except, without all the overly foamy Milwaukee's Best (forgive me for this, but I am totally conditioned by attending a highly-competitive state school in Missouri to follow that brand mention with horned fingers in the air and yelling, "Bring on The Beeeeaaaaast").  Oh, and without the sleep.

We've been busy. I've been working a lot of hours (this is a good thing...right?) and squeezing in an exhaustive apartment search, games of Candy Land, co-op and daycare, energy-burner laps around the block and praying for spring to arrive for real this week into any and every free moment. 

Thankfully like the whole college spring break (well, my college spring breaks which never involved bikinis or clubs in Florida filled with foam and jello shots), my parents have been very involved. My mom took on this wonderful, wired-up role as apartment finder and with my dad, did drive-bys and internet research and Google map consulting for weeks and weeks.

My dad patiently finished and folded all the laundry I neglectfully left in the washing machine for days on end and did his crossword with Lil E snuggled in beside him in the big chair while I sat in front of my laptop for seemingly endless hours, scouted out more apartments and did and re-did and re-did my monthly budget.

And just like seeing that A arrive in mail in rubbed-off type on a tissue paper report card, there are shining moments when staying up studying and cramming and flexing the brain until 3 a.m. in boxers and t-shirts from said frat barn keggers all seems worth it.

We got an apartment. An apartment (feel free to say that as shrill as needed...I do)! A lovely place that I could immediately picture us in. It is bright and safe and feels happy, even without our things inside. It is close to the apartment where we used to live, even closer to my parents and closer still to a big park that I've always loved. We will not be far from our old friends and we will be in a new place where I know there will be new neighbors to meet.

We have a lot of work to do before we settle in to our new home. There will be more late nights, more stress, more juggling of childcare and schedules and expectations. But once the books are closed, the lights are out and we are tucked into our own beds in our own home, I think there will be that sigh of relief that only comes when you've accomplished something big.

Sometimes, I guess, those accomplishments are academic, sometimes professional and often familial. They are always emotional, though, aren't they? And almost always solved by just getting home.

Getting My Shit Together Monday: The resurrection

It has been an age since I've been faithful to the old Getting My Shit Together Monday feature and it has shown. My pantry was piled with plastic Jewel bags, our arts and crafts tub was emptied out in various corners of the apartment and the bathroom was an explosion of hotel shampoos and exfoliants.

No more, my friends. Mama says no more.

Lil E was sick all weekend (roseola, ick) -- not the kind of sick where he needs to affix himself to my lap and then affix the paci to his mouth and stay in that position all day (that was Thursday and Friday) but the kind where every single phrase is whined, pouted or yelled mostly because his little feverish brain and irritable emotions cannot process kindness, politeness or anything less than three sippy cups containing three different drinks next to him AT ALL TIMES -- we decided to let the kid be and do what we needed to do around the house.
                     

                                    

                                   Not my pantry. But a grrrl can dream.

First, we cleaned up the floor of the pantry. I went through the giant tub of gift bags (anyone need a wedding-themed gift bag? There are currently 17 in our recycling bin for the taking), got rid of enough plastic bags to choke out fourteen species of animals worldwide, began a box full of garage sale items (cords, cables, timers, baking crap no one in the world needs, incense burners, cheap ass baby bottles, all also for the taking) and disposed, disposed, disposed of clutter.

Then I tacked up six heavy-duty adhesive hooks to the wall of the pantry and hung the now-reduced gift bag of gift bags, plastic bags, baskets and canvas totes up off of the floor but within reach.

Bruce handled tool clean-out even though most of the tools are mine (awwww yeah, mama loves her some power tools) and tucked them all tidily back into the corner.

On to the bathroom. I already have six baskets and bins on shelves, but each of them were overflowing with old cough syrup and long-banned samples of Seldane allergy miracle tablets. I cleaned out each one, threw out tons of old meds and supplements we will never, ever take (on a regular basis) and chucked all the hotel samples (except the W's Bliss products pilfered during the BlogHer downtown retreat/mania that I am actually excited to use when we go to Colorado Springs this week). Next, I organized each bin, labeled them (oh, it is a good day when I get out that label maker) and put the ones I need within easier reach (meds at my level, the bezillion ace bandages at Bruce's level). I even got diligent in the medicine cabinet and the gross cabinet underneath the sink that is home to nail polish and Costconormous boxes of Tampax.

Bruce did dishes, fetched paper towels and anti-bacterial wipes, entertained the boy in between Bob the Builder and Saddle Club episodes and, confirming my undying love for him, brought up big loads of freshly washed and dried bath towels, dish towels and clothes.

We worked hard. We filled up three big garbage bags full of stuff we will never miss. We started one box full of stuff we think we can make a few bucks from. We decided on a garage sale date in three weeks and we made a plan for how to immediately get rid of all the unsold items. We packed up big four plastic tubs of household items that are more house-friendly than apartment-appropriate and stored them in the basement where they will have to wait for us to save up a down payment.

We are exhausted. But we feel so good. And the best part is, the rooms we cleaned already look shinier and more welcoming. And that is motivation enough to clean out the bookshelf next to my desk and a big dresser full of linens in our dining room today.

Dear Getting My Shit Together Monday,
Mama's back.

When you get that organizational itch, which rooms do you hit first? And please, do share your tips, not just cleaning out the clutter, but keeping it far, far away.

In which I make a triumphant return

If this was one of my grandmother's stories, the door would open slowly to the big party with all of the cast members sipping cocktails, revealing me, looking slightly different under a halo of soft light, apparently emerged from a supposed grave.

Gasp!, the crowd would turn to circle around me.

We thought she was a goner!

She looks so fabulous for surviving an electrical explosion, a fall down an elevator shaft and brain surgery!

Are those extensions or has she been gone that long?

And I would simply nod. Yes, I'm back. I am finally back.

That is how it would be if I was a daytime diva. The reality is that my life has just been my life and I simply needed a hiatus from Sassafrass. No family members weeping as the bandages are slowly unwound from my head, no surprise children and far fewer evening gowns. Just all of the bits of real life that add up to make a few transitions, some stress, too little sleep and just...too much.

So I took a break here so I could give my energy and attention to all those other details. Here are five highlights from my leave of Sassafrass:

1. Mama's got a brand new gig. In the New Year, I began a great new gig over at That's Fit, a healthy living blog. I'm thrilled to be writing FitBeauty, a feature on all the styley aspects of living well. Read it, smear it on and then work it with me, grrrls.

2.  Some of my favorite writers set up shop in the blogosphere. Help me give these mama bloggers some support at Comfort Food, DFW Mom, DunnBryant and HSJ Writer.

3.  I finally met Danielle of the fabulous Foodmomiac in person! We had a delightful take-out dinner and a conversation that I think could've gone on much later (sigh...the old kiddo/career alarm clock comes early, don't it?).

4. Lil E discovered neminems (not the rapper, the irresistible candy), my brother and his fiancee set a date for their wedding (just to prove that Virginia is, in fact, just for lovers?), I finally decided that Getting My Shit Together this month means using my Christmas money to hire a cleaning service come in at least once (which is not related to this next bit, honest), and not one but two mice invaded our snug little home, sending me into a complete stupor, to my mom and dad's house for three nights and eventually to my therapist. Nice, right? Thank God for my extraordinarily patient, brave, rodent warrior husband who offed one of the offenders and then hooked us up with some funky electrical devices that keep those fuckers away for good (or at least that's what I choose to believe...and my therapist fully supports me in that).

5.  Our plans to bridge the gap from playing house to buying a house were averted by some (ahem) job changes, but we've made a good compromise, I think. We're almost-officially looking for a condo that can hold us, a booty-load of toys that make too much noise, too many plastic tubs of sadly neglected craft supplies and fraternity t-shirts, and maybe (eek) at some point, another child (no no no, not yet...not even close). So if anyone knows of a great deal on The Perfect Place for a very quiet loud but lovable little family, let me know.

There have been connections and there has been chaos, and I think (touch wood), we're OK.  My Soapie will have to remain in syndication, even if I've worked very hard these past few weeks to perfect my long, slow stare. It's good to be back, my friends. It's good to be back.

Getting My Shit Together Monday

Week Five - What I'd really like to be getting together this Monday are the scads of holiday gifts on big ol' master list. I'd like to spend nap time the afternoon surfing through those free shipping emails anxiously waiting for me in my email inbox and with a couple of happy, productive clicks, send off lovely little gifts to our friends and family in Portland, Richmond, Jackson Hole and Phoenix. I'd like to get all the toddler goodies out of my many cyber shopping carts and know that one of Santa's babies will have the delight of seeing gifts under the tree very soon.  I'd like to run out to the Home Depot parking lot and buy a loose-needled and green-spray-painted full and luscious Scotch Pine for our little apartment.  I'd like to get my boy all dressed up in his adorable Christmas jammies and take 500 photos of him that will hopefully produce one perfect shot for the 75 cards I will do my very best to send out before 2007. All of that wonderful stress sounds so good to me today, and I'd love to take advantage of the adrenaline and the opportunity to dive into the holidays.

Alas, today I won't be doing any of that. We're in that irritating time between paychecks, when the car payment and insurance have priority. We're living in an apartment that will need a good dusting off before decorating. And we're definitely taking Lil E to get his hair helmet trimmed down before loading up the memory card with potential Christmas pics. This week's Getting My Shit Together Monday will allow me to rewind a bit and take care of some of the tasks that will push me right into the holiday season.

I have three goals for today:

• Vacuum up the place (since, I kid you not, Lil E actually found a pine needle from last year under the dining room table yesterday...who someone clearly -ahem- tracked in)

• Clear out the toys and the clutter (at least in one corner) to make room for the tree

• If all is good with Santa, Baby Jesus and the universe, take Lil E to get and actually get a haircut *

This isn't the big-time, 45 color-coded baskets type of organization that I envisioned when I began Getting My Shit Together a month ago. It is, however, the little stuff that will help me sleep better into Tuesday and just plain old needs to get done (and isn't...or hasn't yet).  It won't make me feel all giddy from a combination of cleaning fluid and plastic tub smell, but it will clear the path for bringing Christmas into our little home (or at least bringing the plastic tubs marked CHRISTMAS up from the basement).

I'd take a picture of all the shizzleiciousness going on in our apartment, but I know it'll take me at least a week to get the before and afters off of my camera. Plus, I need to save as much of my memory card as I can for a Tuesday photo shoot with my clean-cut, Christmas-crazy boy.

* I can't bring myself to give a bullet point to one more goal that is just a wee bit embarrassing: Finally ditching the pumpkins and gourds centerpiece. Happy Holidays, alley critters! Yikes.

UPDATE:  All good intentions and motivation (even to clean and clear clutter) are somehow inevitably met by a child with an inexplicable fever, unabandoned energy and unable to go to co-op. Foiled again! Criminey.

Getting My Shit Together Monday

Week Four - I am posting this in the last hours of Monday, which will be your first indication that I am far from having my shit together today. I've decided, though, that Getting My Shit Together involves ridding my kooky-loo thought processes of the shoulds as much as it involves organization, commitment and other kinds of self-care. 

Since we are on our fourth (yes, fourth) round of sickness in our family (with no breaks, mind you...pity me), I gave myself two goals: Fight back against those germs (persistent little suckers) and give myself a break.

Fighting back against the germs involved good, old-fashioned diluted bleach, my entire bathroom -  wall to antiseptic wall -  and every other obsessively-touched surface in our apartment (watch it) - doorknobs, phones, remotes, light switches. My break began with a big dose of vitamin C, lots of warm tea and a rejuvenating family dinner with friends.

That is it. Gloriously, that is all that I attempted and accomplished above and beyond the everyday Elmo and email of most Mondays.

And you know what? Even though the sinus pressure is still miserable, even though we are going through Kleenex like crazy and even though I had a good cry begging the gods and the germs to let us be well, I've done a little something and I do feel a little bit better.





Photo credit: Gloves by Onur Aksoy / www.sxc.hu

Getting My Shit Together Monday

Week Three - We got home from the airport at 1 a.m. and by the time we got the suitcases in and settled in bed, Bruce had three hours before he had to be up for work. Ugh. After one long day of travels, my GMSTM for this week is going to follow the realistic and relieving K-I-S-S method.

My first goal is to be on my work conference call today. And to know what we are actually trying to accomplish on the call before I even dial in.

My second goal is to unpack my suitcase. I will worry about unpacking Lil E's laundry and reorganizing my overstuffed purse tomorrow. For now, I am thanking goodness I consolidated my clothes and don't have too much to unload. Small goals are perfectly fine for today.

Do you launch right in or procrastinate unpacking your first day home from vacation? Any tips for swiftly getting settled?

GMSTM: Tuesday update

So far, sort of good. I've only hit one real hitch in Getting My Shit Together for Thanksgiving travel. I was almost completely packed (save the obviously-still-needed) toiletries, when my mother-in-law called and said it was 87 degrees today...and will be all weekend.

Unpack suitcase full of 60 - 70 degree centered wardrobe. Dig out flip-flops and capri pants from hurried but neat stack of summer clothes on my closet floor. Add four more just-in-case tops. Pause. Rewind. Play.

I'm not there yet, but I am whittling, whittling, whittling every couple of hours. I also remembered that I need to bring my work laptop (Work over a holiday with family?, you ask, to which I say, "Work" over the holiday with family!), which adds a big ass bag to the mix.

I am not disheartened or distracted and I'm still determined to make my goal to be completely prepped and packed 24 hour before go time.

In a fit of organization obsession, I added an impromptu GMSTM task to this week's challenge by taking in the (also) packed-full memory cards from my digi camera into Costco.

Sure, we had to hold an antsy, hungry toddler for twenty minutes while the woman in front of us se.lec.ted one freaking photo at a time, but the result was worth it.

We uploaded - check it - 1, 253 photos living on our memory cards on to CDs.  We got prints of 200, so we still have a step or two left before completion, but mah gaw, it feels good to have room for a thousand more pics of Lil E mowing the living room carpet nakey. Good stuff.

Getting My Shit Together Monday

Week Two: Packing. Ahead of time. What? Can she even do that?

Thanksgiving is only days away, and that means Bruce, Lil E and I will be packing it up and heading to Phoenix for the festivities. As liberating as that sounds, the realities of parent/child travel are more migraine-inducing than freedom-finding.

Here are just a few of the things we'll be schlepping along with us:

1. One child who counts on this list since he has this need to either be carried or full-on run in airports, thus making him 22 pounds of schleppable a good amount of the time.
2. Two large rolling suitcases
3. One carry-on bag
4. One diaper bag
5. One car seat
6. One Pack & Play
7. One Starbucks bag of little crap we inevitably forget to stuff pack in our suitcase, feel we need to have anyway and do not use touch once on the entire trip
8. 47 tiny cars and construction trucks
9. Bobo, Spot, a paci and back-up paci and the two blankets that all make up what we call in Parent Code "The Bare Essentials"
10. One MagnaDoodle
11. One portable DVD player with headphones, kiddie shows and papa-needs-an-escape kinds of movies
12. One Body + Soul magazine that I bring along, daring to tempt fate enough to  believe I will actually be able to relax and read as a "shhhh, everyone pretend the toddler will sleep" bedtime story on this flight
13. One purse full of everyone's wallets and cell phones, including one for the non-sleeping toddler

This trip, I vow in the name of Getting My Shit Together, will be different.

This week, this trip, I am inspired by Cari, one of our closest friends, mother of preschooler twins and the most organized parent on the planet (she swears out of necessity, but I truly believe it is a genetic mutation of the most enviable strain). 

I am going to follow Cari's method of trip prep  by opening up the suitcase in the guest room middle of the dining room, packing it as full as I normally would and then (this is the good part), walking away. Cari's method hits full effect, however, when you (actually) come back a few hours later and remove something of the clothes, cute sandals, toys or toiletries you intended to take.  This paring down process can go on for days, or at least until you have a manageable load that does not deplete your spending cash on sky-cap tips alone.

My first goal is to be totally pared down, packed, zipped up and ready to go 24 hours in advance.

My second goal is to whittle my airplane carry-ons (or rather, the carry-ons because we all know that Getting My Shit Together for a mama really means Getting All the Shit Together for the entire fam) to my big ass purse/Diapees & Wipees holder, Lil E's backpack of things to keep him awake the entire 3-1/2 hour flight and the car seat.

With that, I hope we'll be much more ready for take-off!

Please, feel free to clue me in on any packing techniques, holiday hacks or plain old common sense on flying with a child that I've somehow missed these last 8 airline adventures.

Here's to your own traveling sanity and safe travels!

Getting My Shit Together Monday

Welcome to my new (and lovely named, mais non?) feature. Here, I will be attempting to get those many nagging things in order in my apartment, in my calendar, on my to-do list, and in my life. Of course, I am beginning this on the day before one of best friends comes for a two-day visit, the same day I've sent Lil E off to Camp Grandma so I can actually unpack a neglected and still half-full suitcase sitting in my dining room, wash a sink-full of sippy cups and coffee mugs and clean off my sign of a genius cluttered desk.  As happy as our little family is, things are OC in this apartment. Totally Outta Control. It is time to do some (so not pregnant) nesting.

I have an overwhelming list of shit I do need to get together:  organize the pantry, get my billing system back in working order, update my website, turn my drop-off zone of a bedroom into a den of desire. I know it will feel good to check these things off of crabby Post-It notes I leave for myself, and yet, it stresses me out just to begin. I don't want to be stressed out. I want to feel good, empowered, better.

Here, my intention is to put all of that here for the world and world wide web (OK, for you three) to see, to reduce the bigness of that list and to increase my happiness in my own home, in my own little world.

If you'd like to join me, feel free to shout out how you'd like to get your own shit together this week. We can stress go about it together, cheering and chanting each other along the way.

Week One - This week has been handed to me courtesy my barely-alive refrigerator and a thankfully responsive landlord. The 482-year old fridge has now joined the stove that I have used pliers to turn on for the last year. Hallelujah, the landlord purchased a brand new refrigerator and stove to be delivered tomorrow! (Enter choirs of domestic angels). As long (long long long) time renters, Bruce and I have never had appliances without other people's crumbs left in them! While I know they will be the absolute bottom-line appliances that our nice but DIY-crazy landlord can order, I couldn't be more excited about this. Hooray hooray hooray!

Now on to the getting my shit together part: This will involve cleaning out the old freezer and resurrecting any food that has somehow survived living in a cooler of melted ice all weekend. It will also involve cleaning off the stove top because I wouldn't dare have my landlord take it away thinking we were unclean tenants or anything crazy like that.  It will involve a very precise and glorious moment where I let out those OCD tendencies (moment being the keyword here) and organize a new fridge where healthy foods live on easily-accessible shelves and Diet Dr. Pepper and Bruce's disgusting fruit juice energy drinks live in the far-reach corners. It might even involve some behind-the-appliance wall scrubbing and floor mopping, but for now that will have to be a big old Maybe. I don't want to go too crazy and burn myself out on Week One, do I?

In prepping for the appliance installation, we'll be rushing to make our kitchen seem clean tonight. I should note that the vaccuum cleaners do live in the corner next to the fridge, and will have to come out and find a temporary home in our exceedingly crumby dining room. Coincidence? I think not.

Happy Monday! Feel free to submit your favorite DIY websites, tips and photos of your own neat-as-a-pin homes that will have me running for my label maker. Wish me luck and please, do join me on this journey toward (some) domesticity and (a wee bit more) sanity.