Ear Bling

She didn't call me high maintenance, but I know she was definitely thinking it. I recently upgraded my old I-pod earphones to these 'Shugabuds Swarovski Earphones'. You know, the earphones with all the 'bling'. I think I deserve a little credit for choosing the most sedate color - all white, as opposed to say - pink (I was tempted though) or iridescent rainbow (yeah, um - no thanks.) But someone saw them and laughed and said 'Only you PP, only you..." I wasn't offended, but it did make me go, Hmmm. Do I come across as high maintenance? Because I really, truly am not. Am I a bit of a 'princess'? Well, yeah. And unabashedly so. Do I like nice things? Absolutement. Do I indulge myself on occasion? Yeeeessss. Okay, so I'm high maintenance. Deal with it. :-)

Primpin' and Preenin', pp

"Those Neighbors"

You know the ones. With the kaleidoscope of Christmas lights all over their house and front yard, trees and shrubs the minute Thanksgiving dinner has been eaten. They have a wreath in every window and have even brazenly flung open their curtains ALL day and ALL night so that you can see their overly (ahem) accessorized tree.

Well, we have become one of them. I am not yet down with the blown up Santa and pulsating Rudolph(s) in the front yard, but we are in the realm of almost 'slightly ridiculous'. But I kinda like it. I think.

I even got a new ornament for the tree! Yes, Starbucks doth rock this chick's world. For long time. p.s. No that's not my house. (Nor is it my neighbors', thank God.)

Jingle Bellz, pp

Life Does Not Stop...

...Just because you are having a bad day. It does not pause to give you a moment to grieve or to be sad - hey, you're lucky to find time to breathe, you know? This is especially true if you are a wife and mom. There are noses to be cleaned, bums to be wiped, (I know, ew) husbands to be loved. Life does not care.

It's raining in your world today? Oh, what a pity - but are you done with that client file I asked you to work on two minutes ago? More important, is it PERFECT? It's raining, you say? Well don the wellies and keep sloshing through. You know Life is. You have killer cramps and a terrible migraine? I'm so sorr- hey, can you emcee at this gala tonight? Nordstrom is having a SALE, girl!

You don't get it, do you? Life 'don't play.' So put on your big girl drawers and deal.

But when I look at those two, I am still grateful that even if my world is rocked, theirs is Rock Solid. Thank you Jesus.

Ever grateful, pp

Wuss, much?

I have been busy with work and life in general. But I am back and fiercer than ever, so fear not. :-)

Now to the business at hand. Numero Uno son, just turned three - pride and joy of my heart and possible, WUSS? Sigh. He is immensely popular in school, loved by every teacher and pupil it seems, but he just appears to be extremely socially anxious - at three! Isn't three the age when you're supposed to be equal parts rambunctious and carefree and totally oblivious to people and what they think? I mean I noticed he seemed a little sensitive for a rough and tumble little boy, talking about 'hurt feelings' and 'feeling sad', but I just chalked it down to his being expressive. Then there was that time at a birthday party at 'My Gym', when they were all supposed to say their name and run around the circle by way of introduction and I literally held my breath for at least one minute, so anxious was my son, this wonderful little sweet boy. He was literally in tears, nervous - nay petrified- he so wanted to do this intro thingy - I mean, which young boy doesn't just love running around and being the center of attention? I watched him battle within himself, biting his nails as his turn reached closer and closer, and when he turned around and his eyes met mine, I almost cried with him. I had a smile plastered firmly on my lips, but inside I was yelling 'Go on Numero Uno Son! Mama's right here with you!' And I half stood up, ready to grab his hand and do the lap with him, should his resolve fail. Yes, this Mama goes all out for hers. But he did it! And I have never been so proud, because I knew what he was feeling, and I felt it right along with him. So my husband and I discussed it that night - was Numero Uno a wuss or was it because he wasn't familiar with the surroundings, the parents there, the kids?

Fast forward to our vacay at Dreams (which I highly recommend by the way) in Punta Cana over Thanksgiving. They had the most awesome kids program EVER. With a sunken pirate ship, tons of activities, excursions etc. So great - I would have gladly been a kid for a day just to participate. Numero Uno Son lasted 5 minutes. Literally. I watched him hidden from his view, after I dropped him off, contentedly building a sandcastle, when all of a sudden he flung down his shovel and little pail and threw himself wailing into Ms. Malinda's arms. No clue as to what set him off. But he would not set foot in the club again for the duration of our vacation. He did agree after much pleading to take a picture in front of the club - that was his concession. So yes, he is a wuss. The daughter I never had maybe? :-)

Earth Mother, pp