Martini Moms

It’s the middle of the day and through some miracle both girls are sleeping soundly at the same time.  This happens pretty much next to never.  They have me on a nice rotating shift, which has it’s pros and cons.  One pro is that I am usually only trying to deal with both of them for a maximum of 2 hours at a time before the baby is ready to take another nap.  Or like this morning when V got up at the pre-crack of dawn, giving us some nice one-on-one time before Scarlett woke up.  It almost never fails though that the moment Scarlett goes down for her once-a-day, 75-minute nap, V snaps awake with a vengeance wanting to PLAY.  And as any parent knows, playing with a 12-week-old is going to require both hands and full attention on their bobble-head maneuvers to ensure they don’t do any lasting damage to themselves.  Needless to say, this chunk of silence is amazing and incredibly rejuvenating - probably because it’s so unexpected.

I have so many people ask me “How is it now with having two so close together?” and truthfully, it’s not that bad.  One of the reasons is the total loss of hope.  I know, I know, I’m not making a very good case for expanding your family, am I?  Hear me out though.  When I only had one kid, I was constantly looking and hoping for that next break - anxiously awaiting the next naptime or bedtime or any chance to carve out a second to sit down and relax or pursue a hobby.  That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy my time with Scarlett and stay engaged with what we were doing, but I would definitely find myself glancing at the clock and mentally calculating the odds of getting her down for a naptime 15 minutes early.

And now?  Pssh.  Forget it.  There is no hope.  And oddly, that’s more freeing than you might imagine once you embrace it.  The realization that I can expect zero free time during the day (and by “day” I mean 7:00 a.m. or earlier until 8:30 p.m. when both girls are asleep) has helped me relax about some things.  Now if I have a list of things I need to get done, I make attempts during the day when I’m with them - but if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen.  I set goals but attempt to be realistic, and try not to worry about it when everything goes awry.  Aside from four playdates scheduled for this week, the usual pile of household chores and shopping, I’d hoped to work through about 10 new recipes for Pigtail Pies.  Here it is, Thursday afternoon, and I’ve only done 3… and that’s only because I had AZ and SG to help me Tuesday night.  So now I’m far behind and need to have the Fall/Winter menu finalized by Monday so it can go to the printer, and it’s looking like sleep is out of the question over the next few days.  Oh well.  When I stress about it, I find that it just makes everything more miserable, including myself.  If I just pretty much let go of that hope (for sleep), I can stop making myself anxious during the day about not being able to juggle everything, pour myself another cup pot of coffee and just plan to do the other stuff in the middle of the night.  My coffee intake has become beyond gratuitous - I often make two cups, one for sipping on while warm and one that I let sit out to get chilled so that I can slam it as needed.

I have more fun tales from the week, but will save those for another blog - you know, one that I’ll be writing at 3:00 a.m.

This is my blog to officially acknowledge the launch of Pigtail Pies, my baking business.  I have been too superstitious to mention it before, but the time thas come to shake off my trepidation and fully dive in.  I am excited and nervous and hopeful, but mostly I just feel determined.  I have tremendous support from all of those around me, a great circle of marketing minds to bounce ideas off of, and a pool of willing, ready and (most importantly) brutally honest taste testers.  I’m finalizing the website, thanks to martini-dad’s efforts, and the Fall/Winter 2008 menu.  Lots more to come on this, but I feel like my blog has been languishing since I am now up baking each night, experimenting with recipes until 1:00 or 2:00 a.m… this leaves me with lots to say here, but little time to say it and even less brain cells to attempt to make it humorous.

To any extent, whether I succeed or fail in an impressive way, I plan to document how things go on this site.  I appreciate everyone’s support and look forward to a fun journey

The past week and a half has been a full one.  My initial desire is to call the last 10 days “busy” but I honestly, truly hate when people say that.   While it’s true that the dictionary definition of the word busy simply means being engaged in any task, I still feel as though people abuse it.  To me, busy means being involved in something you would otherwise not do of your own accord.  So even though the statement, “I’m busy watching tv” is technically correct, I stand firm in believing that it’s improper usage.

It may seem to be a minor grammatical nuance that I’m picking apart here, but it has become a pet peeve of mine.  I still have a smattering of non-mommy friends, but by and large the biggest part of my social circle consists of other parents.  And there is nothing moms, particularly stay-at-home-moms (SAHMs), love more than recounting how very “busy” they are.  I can be chatting with a non-mommy friend of mine and ask what they did over the last week and get “Dude, not a thing - went to work, to the gym, than sat on my ass eating Kettle Chips out of the bag and watching Flavor of Love 2 re-runs.”  Conversely, I can almost guarantee that in asking the same question to a SAHM friend will result in “Oh, it was SO BUSY.  I was just SO BUSY all week long.”  Maybe it’s a way of imbuing a little more self-importance into the often thankless and boring tasks that accompany being a SAHM, but I find it more than a little annoying.

I enjoy staying active - I love having a week chocked-full of play dates, outings to the park, coffee with friends, going to the gym, shopping, experimenting with new recipes or taking an afternoon to bake with Scarlett.  There’s also the less than glamorous elements in any given SAHM-week like battling over naptime, cleaning up from the multiple daily spills, saying “No” for the 7,458th time, reading the same books over and over.  And over.  But even when the fun and less-than-fun parts are added together - making for a full week - I still wouldn’t say that I’m busy.  I especially try to avoid the usage of “busy” when talking with family or friends, because I believe that busy indicates a level of distance - if someone has bothered to tell you how very busy they are, it’s an invitation for you to realize that they might not have or be able and willing to make time for you.  And if there is anything I love about being a SAHM, aside from the raising my kids element, it would be my ability to drop whatever I’m doing and be available to do something else with (or for) family or friends.  A caveat of that statement would be the flippant usage of “drop” - by “drop” I clearly mean finish feeding/changing Scarlett/V and load up a week’s worth of wipes, diapers and snacks into our various go-bags and then head out

So while the last week was definitely a full one, I wouldn’t call it busy.  And why is that?  Because it was full of both fun times and challenges, but I was doing what I wanted by choice.  Martini-dad and I hosted a Pumpkin Party last Sunday and had so much fun getting ready to have everyone over.  It was supposed to be a Pumpking CARVING Party, but the kids definitely enjoyed tossing the pumpkins around and rolling them from room to room more than trying to decorate them!  I’m shooting for this to become an annual event, so maybe as the years go by there will be more actual carving action.  Anyways, the party was fun and I had a great time - I’m always excited for any reason to host a party.  It was only after much dissuading on martini-dad’s part that I was convinced we didn’t need to host an Election Day party - something to do with politics and friends and how ours don’t line up with a lot of others and then throw alcoholic beverages into the mix… Sigh.  I know I’ll be hosting Thanksgiving, but I need to figure out the next random party theme.  Maybe a chili cook-off?

Having lived in Michigan for most of my life, my favorite season was always summer, far and away.  People from the north always gush about how magical the changing of the seasons is, but I never saw it - from my perspective there was WINTER, preparing for WINTER (aka Fall), defrosting from WINTER (aka Spring) and Summer (the remaining 82 days of the year when you won’t get hypothermia from swimming in the lakes).  And yes, in Michigan, WINTER deserves to be in all caps.

(Yes, that is actually a photo from a blizzard in Michigan - it’s not a city in Alaska or anything like one might initially assume…)

Then we moved to Atlanta - there’s not a way to thoroughly describe summers in Georgia.  Hot is so blase and non-descriptive… what comes to my mind are a lot of words more commonly used for cooking:  boil, bake, fry, saute, sear, simmer, blacken, etc.  The thing is, I don’t mind the heat so much and nope, it’s not even the (unrelenting) humidity that kills me.  It’s the fact that I’m a redhead and have the complexion to match, therefore rendering outdoor activities between 2:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m. virtually impossible unless I want to go out in a full burqa for protection.

That would be me, out in my stylish turquoise garb, trying to avoid skin cancer.  What I especially love is the reaction I get from even long-time acquaintances (who well know that I can go from casper-white to seriously burned in about 15 minutes) when we do outdoor activities in the summer.  “Oh my God, you are BURNING already?” they ask in the same tone you might say, “Oh my God, you are SHITTING yourself already?”  as though, come on, I should be able to do something about it.

So after enduring the drawn-out summers that Atlanta has to offer, I can now say that Fall is officially my new favorite season.  The weather turns cool at night, but is still pleasant during the day.  The trees take a leisurely path towards turning their various shades of crimson, gold and orange and remain festive looking for weeks and weeks.  Things seem to speed up with the back to school rush so many experience, and yet simultaneously slow down as everyone sighs with relief that the oppressive summer heat is over and we take time to relish the gorgeous weather.  It’s the season for football, pumpkin carving, apple-cider drinking and baking pies… a time when even adults who haven’t trick-or-treated in decades still feel that tingling of anticipation that Halloween always brings.

Basically this is a blog dedicated to just announcing how thrilled I am that Fall is here!

I need help here.  My iPod list is tragically, depressingly out of date.  In fact, my iPod list was tragically, depressingly out of date 14 months ago when I started going back to the gym post-Scarlett’s birth.  So add 14 months to out-of-date and where does that leave me?  With a workout playlist full of JayZ, original Kanye, Luda, Sean Paul, Nelly, BEP, and so forth.

The problem is that I haven’t had the free time to explore new and upcoming bands or artists the way I used to pre-kids.  Sure, I’ll jump on-board whenever martini-dad finds a new band that he really enjoys (what alternate universe is this that HE is suggesting cool and funky new bands to ME?) - he “discovered” Vampire Weekend, Hot Chip, and a few other groups a year or so ago before they became mainstream and I’ve become a big fan.  But when do I even listen to those?  Very rarely, as when I am driving or at home, we typically are listening to “kids” music.  Now, I am not saying that babies and kids shouldn’t be exposed to any mainstream music (as anyone who knows me can attest to), but I do think that music geared towards kids is a great thing for impressionable toddlers just learning to speak.  The last thing I want is for my 16-month-old to break out with “I kissed a girl and I liked it” in accompaniment to her always stellar dance moves… that’s not cute, it’s trashy.

But in truth that is only half of the story - thanks to Fisher Price and their migraine-inducing music stands, conveniently located in EVERY STORE IN THE WORLD, my child was convinced that life could not be lived unless we owned the “Sing-Along Favorites”.  Now we can’t pass one of the CD stands (you know what I’m talking about - the CD displays that allow you to push the button and preview a couple of songs from the CD - the displays that are cleverly put right at cart level) without somehow ending up with another Fisher Price CD in the cart.

As it turns out, “Sing-Along Favorites” was just the gateway drug.  I feel confident in saying that we now own every FP album currently in existence, including “Princess Songs”, “Playdate Fun”, “Traveling Melodies” and oh yes, even “Giddy Up”.  If forced to shake off my adult cynicism, I would have to confess that the songs are truly cute and fun and a lot of them are educational.  The awful thing is how ridiculously catchy they all are - the songs wind up stuck in your head, chipping away at the tenuous ties holding you to the adult world.  When I do find myself alone in the car, or out with martini-dad, we often find ourselves driving along for a solid 10 minutes before we even register the fact that we’re still listening to kid’s music.  At which point we frantically switch over to the radio.

So, as you can see, I really *do* need the help - and specifically, I’m looking for suggestions for some great work out music.  Please feel free to leave me some suggestions, and here’s an advance Thank You!

Toddlers are such interesting little creatures, as any mom or child-development book will confirm.  Stuck somewhere between babyhood and full-blown kid, they often can’t quite decide between how much freedom they are comfortable with and how much closeness they still need.  Which *sounds* sweet when you read it in a book, especially if you don’t have kids or maybe if you have a small baby who hasn’t quite crossed the toddler threshold.  You think, “Awww! How precious!” and picture a cherubic and energetic tot eager to do things on their own, yet willing to hold mommy or daddy’s hand while they explore the world.

Instead what you end up with are whole days with a 25+ pound person clinging to you while simultaneously pushing away, whining at pitches certain to put stress cracks along your skull.  Still doesn’t sound too bad?  Not really all that annoying?  Try strapping a chimpanzee hopped up on meth to you and see how fun it is.  Just because the experts claim it’s “normal” behavior doesn’t make it seem any less psychotic, nor does the tag of normalcy somehow magically imbue parents with the saint-like patience needed to cope.

Being a parent, and especially a stay-at-home-mom, is tremendously rewarding and a lot of fun, but there are definitely days that it can also make you want to calmly pack your bag, load up the car and drive away with tires squealing… alone.  While we all act (justifiably) horrified to hear the story of a mom abandoning her 3-year-old at WalMart, I firmly believe that most moms of toddlers have this tiny internal voice saying, “Yep, I’ve been there.”  The difference between the mom who does and does not run screaming from WalMart is a fine line some days.

However, I have found a great mental exercise for days when I have to deal with the insanity.  Let me just pause to mention that while I was a senior in high school, I was prompted by my guidance counselor to take a career/personality test.  Essentially it was like the combination of an IQ, personality and “likes” quiz, and the goal was to analyze your strengths and weaknesses, with the computer then spitting out a list of the top 5 recommended career fields for you.  After laboring intensively over this test for 90 minutes, the computer announced that I would best be suited for life as… an actress.  Wtf?  Of course, at the time I thought that was wickedly cool, but as time has passed, I just have to wonder what the hell kind of computer program that was.  But suddenly one day last week, as I stood in my kitchen with a sobbing and flailing 16-month-old at my feet, a tremendous mess on the floor and a grunting baby in my arms, it occurred to me that motherhood is perhaps the best “roll” out there, and the greatest acting challenge around.

With this realization, it occurred to me that there are times I’m just going to have to suck it up, dust off my acting skills and “play pretend”.  Pretend that I want to read the Animal Book for the 538th time in a row.  Pretend that I don’t want to lock myself away in the bathroom for 30 minutes and ignore the ever-escalating whining/screaming from downstairs.  Pretend that I actually want to let Scarlett “help” me make dinner and then won’t mind the 100x bigger mess I will have to deal with.  Because kids need consistency, even when they themselves can’t pick an emotion to stick with for more than 5 seconds.  Although it can feel impossible at times, it’s so vitally important to maintain that consistency of loving attention and patience towards them.  And you know what?  I’ve found that the 20% of time I have to ACT like I have patience, or ACT like I am having a fun time, the kids can’t tell the difference, and I usually end up feeling better anyways.

The sound of silence can mean very different things to different people.  For a lonely person, it might be an oppressive silence that must be driven away with loud music, the tv on in the background or a phone call to a friend.  For a couple arguing, silence can be the loudest sound in the room and tense with unspoken words.  But for parents at the end of a long week, silence is often a coveted commodity that is rarely found.

So with that thought in mind, martini-dad and I decided to celebrate our six-year wedding anniversary (which was on Sunday the 21st) with a relaxing outing to Red Top Mountain State Park this past Saturday.  RMSP is a beautiful and picturesque park that adjoins Lake Allatoona in Georgia, and offers a variety of hiking trails, scenic picnic locations, and a full sandy beach (a very rare occurrence in this state).  Martini-Nana (my mom) and martini-gram kept the girls for us all day so that we could make the most of our getaway and really spend the entire day together.  It was fantastic!  The weather was perfect - upper 70’s, sunny and breezy and ideal for sitting on the beach or going for a light hike.

It cannot be stressed enough how out of character of an anniversary celebration this was for martini-dad and I.  Typically, martini-dad will spend weeks pouring over what kind of entertainment we’ll attend (opera, theatre, concert, murder-mystery train ride, etc.) and then matching the mood of that selection with a fabulous restaurant.  We get dressed up, look and feel spectacular and spend the entire evening moving from dinner to event to after-event drinks/dessert.  It’s always a blast, but you know what else it is?  A lot of work!  Typically that is one of the things we enjoy about it - the fact that martini-dad takes such care in planning it and then we spend more time than usual to get ready to go out… all of that helps make the night seem more special.  However, with the somewhat frantic schedule of both of our “jobs”, martini-dad and I decided to take a calmer, slower-paced approach to our celebration this year.

But overall, I think it was exactly what we needed and it was really fun!  Quiet time together combined with a gorgeous setting - we were relaxed, had no reason or need to hurry whatsoever, and were completely removed from distractions.  Below are some pictures from our outing.

This picture shows why finding some portion of the park with an actual sand beach was impressive.

This picture doesn’t quite do it justice, but this is the view we had at our picnic location.

That person in the distance is me, showing how I totally owned all of those rocks and didn’t fall on my ass like usual. Hey, I *was* wearing flip flops.

Jim was trying to stoke the flames of passion by showing me his amazing prowess at skipping stones.

When that didn’t do the trick, he resorted to twirling a huge stick for me.  6 years and he still knows how to keep the magic alive.

Now, onto our actual anniversary day.  After church, we grabbed a quick lunch and then headed up to our favorite indoor playground in Kennesaw to let Scarlett do some hardcore playing and let V stare in utter amazement at the lights (i.e. what she does 98% of the time she’s awake).  Post-play, we headed home for a brief recharge before heading back out to some friends’ house.  One of martini-dad’s co-workers and good friend invited us to his and his fiancee’s home for an anniversary dinner… actually, the incredibly nice invitation called for us to come over, dump our tired and crabby toddler on them and then sit in their kitchen (which was set up with a candlelit bistro table for two) and enjoy a 4-course-meal they had provided for us from scratch with accompanying champagne and red wine.  I had not even met the couple before Sunday night, but I think they are now some of my favorite people - natural pros with Scarlett, they were also capable of carrying on an interesting conversation, and perhaps most importantly, their food was amazing.  As I was thinking this morning of how nice and thoughtful the entire evening was, I considered sending the following ecard as a Thank You -

Alas, I’m not certain exactly where their sense of humor lies, so I’d better just send a more traditional Thank You card in the old fashioned mail.

In an effort to lose the back-to-back baby weight (it should be noted that I’ve been pregnant for 19 out of the last 24 months) plus some, I recently joined Weight Watchers and the gym.  I had a gym membership at LA Fitness right after I had Scarlett and loved going, but then martini-dad got me knocked up again and I was simulatenously dealing with that fun first-trimester fatigue and studying for my real estate exam so I stopped going.  Now that V is here, martini-dad and I have signed up at a newer gym right around the corner from us - the equipment is nicer, cleaner and they offer more features (a treadmill movie studio, free classes, etc.) plus their kid center is awesome!  Of course, Scarlett doesn’t necessarily agree… however, we have been making small but noticeable progress on how long she lasts before she gets upset.  The first workout last week was only 15 minutes and we are up to 28 this week!  There seems to be some hope yet.

I decided to do Weight Watchers because it seemed like a healthy approach to losing weight, i.e. not taking tons of energy pills and refusing to eat, which has been an effective but harmful approach to weight loss for me in the past.

Plus, it’s not one of those crazy diets where you can only eat one food group at the exclusion of all others.  What’s that you say, Dr. Atkins?  You want me to relinquish this bagel I’m holding?  Sorry, but the little endorphin boost brought on by carbs is the only thing that stops me from becoming homicidal some days, so I think it’s in everyone’s interest if we don’t eliminate whole foods entirely.  Along those lines, the basic gist of Weight Watchers is that you really can eat anything, just in small-ish portions.  Upon receiving the holy Bible of WW - their “points” book which gives every food under the sun a value that you keep track of - the first thing I flipped to?  The Starbucks page.  Fortunately, my usual beverage has only minimal points and while I have been trying to abstain from once-a-day treks to visit my barista, its nice to know it’s not a diet-buster if/when I feel the burning desire.

So far, the eating plan has been going very smoothly and the pounds are coming off.  However, I’ve noticed that I’m beginning to develop this weird coping mechanism to deal with cravings.  Today is a fine example - martini-dad had discovered an amazing little cupcake shop in Vinings called Sweet Pockets a couple of weekends ago while driving around.  Stopping in, he fell in love with their cupcakes and brought home a variety box for us to indulge in as a last “hoorah!” before beginning our workout/healthy-eating regime.  I am a big cupcake aficianado and let me just say that these were indescribably good.  This morning Scarlett and I are driving around when I am just floored by this intense cupcake craving, and we happen to be right in the neighborhood of Sweet Pockets.  Obviously I *could* have a cupcake, but that would be 1/3 of my daily “points” allowance and frankly, I’d rather save them and chow down on my usual bag of edamame at night, but the cupcake call is loud.  We stopped at the store and loaded up on a mouth-watering array of cupcakes that I could take to martini-dad and a couple different friends.  Essentially I was going to foist my craving on others and force them to eat the forbidden cupcakes so that I could live vicariously through them.

Looking back, I realize that I do this more often than I think, and I find that fascinating.  Is it weird and probably something I should deal with?  Definitely.  But more than that, by realizing, embracing and using this newfound knowledge of myself, I have a feeling I can turn this quirky subconscious habit to my advantage.  We’ll see how it goes, but if you are local, don’t be surprised if I show up at your door with made-from-scratch cheesey chicken enchiladas or a red velvet cake.  Just take it from me and understand.

Let me just get this off my chest right now: I *hate* smocking.

I realize that I am the only woman in the entire lower half of the continental United States who feels this way, but I abhor smocked clothing on children.  I never really came across this “smocking” phenomenon until I moved to the south a few years ago, and then I usually only saw babies and children wearing smocked clothing at church.  Okay, I thought to myself, perhaps this is just something Baptists in the south do… but I was comically limited in smocking’s scope of impact.

I’m not trying to be offensive here, because I know a lot of my friends with children ADORE smocked clothes.  You can roll your eyes and mentally call me a “Yankee” and I’ll just be internally pointing and laughing at your smocked little ones.  Fair enough?

I realize that smocking is something that takes a lot of effort and therefore the clothes are considered valuable and therefore expensive.  But the clothes always look CHEAP to me, which makes it a head scratcher.  Below is an example of some smocked clothing for babies or kids:

So the item on the left would be for a little boy, and the dress obviously for a little girl.  I look at these items and think, “They look like a TJ Maxx clearance rack special!”  Not only that, but what year is this?  1874?  I don’t want to dress my children in Little House on the Praire clothing.  Sorry!

Martini-gram’s hairdresser had given her the heads up on a great consignment sale happening at our community center today.  We were stoked!  There are some truly great consignment sales around here that carry amazing things - tons of clothes with the tags still on, from stores like Gap, Gymboree, Hanna Andersson, Old Navy, etc.  This one we were referred to was labeled a “Boutique Overstock” sale with new and used clothing exclusively from boutique children’s stores.  I knew that meant the clothes (even used) would still be high-dollar, but figured I might find some uber cute dresses for church and the holidays.

As we walked up to the community center, I noted somewhere in my subconcious that all of the children accompanying their mothers were wearing smocked clothing.  I only saw a few clad like mine were, in a blend of Target, Old Navy and Carters.  Entering the room where the sale was being held was like something from one of my (many) smocking nightmares:  Rolling racks floor-to-ceiling and wall-to-wall with virtually nothing but smocked clothing.  Smocked jumpers and rompers and dresses and SOCKS.  We did a cursury flip through a couple of racks before I vetoed the entire event and got up out of there as fast as I could.  The kicker?  Most of those items, which let me remind you were USED, started upwards of $35.  Are you kidding??

Even martini-gram loves the smocking though, but I was able to appeal to her inner bargain-hunter to convince her to leave.  I’m thinking of starting a secret meeting for all of us (I’m sure there must be one or two others out here somewhere) anti-smockers out there - anyone want to join?

I think I’m having some sort of existential crises brought on by the void of the Twilight Saga books in my life.  It seems I’m looking to fill that hole with any available teen drama, whether book or tv series.  I’m not proud of it, but I think the first step to recovery is acceptance.  After looking through the feature on Amazon that allows you to see what other books you might like if you loved a certain title, I went to Barnes & Noble last weekend and spent 45 minutes trying to force myself to read this book called “Wicked Lovely” (as recommended to me by the gods at Amazon) before realizing that 1) it was another damn teen novel, and 2) it was possibly the most poorly written book of all time.  Eventually I just had to set the book down and walk away.

So what then?  Oh, it’s bad.  The highly touted new take on the classic “90210” launched this past Tuesday - I had heard a little about it, but wasn’t even interested since I was never a fan of the original.  Suddenly, it was Tuesday night, and for whatever reason the tv was on in the background and I glanced over and saw the show running - without even thinking, I grabbed for the remote and hit “record”.  I think a little bit of my soul floated away.

But much like the old adage that ‘misery loves company’, I somehow felt better about it since I was able to force martini-dad to watch it with me.  Afterward, we agreed that it was horrible and another stupid teen drama about rich kids, the characters played by actors and actresses who look no younger than 25, and then we went ahead and set up a series recording.  I guess we’re both comfortable with being a contradiction.