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A Slow Roll –and Halt–to Neutered Mom Town

I look like I’m having a midlife crisis, wearing my 8-year-old daughter’s Mexican floral blouse as a dress with matchy-matchy dangling earrings. It’s like a cross between Frida Kahlo and going out for margaritas on Cinco de Mayo. This got me thinking: what is up with my mom gear?

“I’d like salt on that margarita, along with female empowerment and pain”

I may need an intervention. This first occurred to me a few weeks back when I found myself shopping, for real, in the Chico’s store. I mean, when you’re shopping at Chico’s in your 40s, you may as well just put on an adult diaper and call it a day. No, that’s mean. Chico’s is fine—for someone else. Ha, that’s like when someone insults something you have in your closet, and they say, “No, it’s fine! It’s just not for me. I can see it’d be amazing on you!” No, you can’t; you’re just a bad liar. And not my friend anymore. Kiiiidding.

I recently went through my closet to pare down, realizing I was saving dresses, pants, and jeans (so sad…I will miss them) from my 20s and 30s that I will never fit into or wear again. During this cleanse, I was frightened by the number of Lilly Pulitzer dresses in my closet. It’s like someone barfed neon flowers in there. And, worse yet, I think I kind of hate Lilly now. Wait, for me, I mean…it’s fine on you.

I also have been dog-earing pages in the Talbot’s catalog. First of all, who even reads catalogs anymore? Well, I do, because it’s the only mail I actually enjoy, and magazine subscriptions are a thing of the past. Second, who dog-ears them? Like, make a decision. Buy it now or never. Third, Talbots is just one small step closer to Chico’s. It’s maybe a little more “profesh,” as in “I get my work clothes there.” But, that’s not true, because I legit just bought a cardigan there for my trip to Charleston that had pink, green, and blue buildings on it with green trees, and it looked like a South Carolina landscape. (LOL) I mean, it could be worse. I almost bought the Capri cropped salmon-colored jeans that matched it. I had them in hand and realized I was in neutered mom territory. That’s not good terrain.

Typically, swimwear choices can be an indication that you’re going down elderly lane, like when you have a one-piece with a skirt, or something with a ton of scrunching around the waist and a padded underwire. I haven’t gotten there yet. In fact, I may have gone the other way, because my son told me yesterday that I was wearing a “hooker bathing suit,” because there’s like this mesh, see-through material over part of it. I know that sounds kinda gross–the see-through part, not that my 11-year-old called me a hooker. Well, that’s a whole ‘nother issue. And also gross. But, yeah. Maybe I should toss that in the donation bag too.

Me: Who wants to go SWIMMING???

I did just splurge on some Prada sunglasses, which is beyond wasteful and stupid. It was more for retail therapy than anything. I wanted to make myself feel better after trying on a miniscule floral sundress at H&M that was skintight and 2 inches below my underwear. I looked like Blossom in that 80s sitcom, Blossom. I mean, I have no business shopping at H&M anymore. However, I DID find a cute leopard blouse, which I bought, and I probs look more like a cougar than a leopard in it...Note to self: don’t wear that to a bar after 8 p.m.

All this is to say, I am reevaluating my clothing choices. It’s easier to focus on this, of course, than to focus on the multitude of other more important things in my life, like wanting to get my book published or making more money…but, hey, at least I’m being productive!

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The Upside of Being Too Busy

Today, I found my phone in the refrigerator. Middle shelf. Yes, I had been running around like a maniac, hurdling over the dog, trying to get out the door for work when I realized I didn’t have my phone. Uh-oh…the panic set in. This is like leaving without clothes on. I mean, I HAD to find it, and fast. I leapt up the stairs, two at a time, huffing and cursing. Frantically, I ran back downstairs, pulling drawers open, rummaging through bags, turning round and round, like a robo-vacuum.

Then, it occurred to me: hey, I was making lunches, and maybe, just maybe, it’s in the FRIDGE! And, there it was. I couldn’t take a photo of it, which I thought to, because I was laughing, because I’d have to take it with the phone!

This story leads me to my initial thought when I sat to write this blog: I’m doing too many things at once. I am thinking about like 15 different things simultaneously. Part of this is inherent to my job in public relations and marketing, where I have multiple accounts I work on each day, shifting back and forth between them with different tones, voices, styles, and needs. Each account uses a different part of my brain.

My brain hurts, sometimes.

But that’s not always a bad thing. I like that I have to think at work, in particular. When I was an actress in NYC back in the days of yore (imagine me hunched over, telling this story in an old lady voice), I used to temp as my day job.

Me telling you about being an actress

The 8-hour temping days were seriously painful, because I was doing work that my goldfish could do. I remember I’d show up as the new “temp for the week,” sit in whomever secretary’s desk I was replacing, and look around.

I’d notice her pink, raspberry-scented Victoria’s Secret lotion, the photos of her kids, her pilled cardigan hanging over the back of my swiveling desk chair, and her change of shoes under the desk (some sort of beaten up flats). People would by-and-large ignore me, but sometimes there was a nice “coworker,” who would ask me about my life or say hi and bye to me. I was kind of like the fly on the wall. I don’t blame them for not wanting to get to know me, as I was there merely temporarily, hence the name “temp.” The days would drag on and on, and some days, I’d only be given the tasks of making copies or stuffing envelopes. Other days, I’d be given more “difficult” tasks, like writing correspondence. They were always AMAZED at how the office chimp was actually skilled, a graduate of a good college, with significant work experience.

Anyway, I digress. My point it this: I am elated to have a real job now that I get to use my brain and, even, that I sometimes feel harried! I’d rather that than staring at the clock, or trying on someone else’s Payless flats under the desk.

Me as temp with augmented chest

So it’s not all that bad when you’re too busy and leaving your phone in the fridge.

Perhaps I should invest in a phone leash.

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BEWARE! Of my Life… (Scary Image Included)

Last night, the kids were terrorized! They went on the swing set in the backyard in the pitch-black. They had flashlights and wanted to do a “scary night walk.” Well, they got their wish and then some when they were, in fact, scared to death and screaming after spotting this horrible looking carcass stuck in our outdoor shower! Does anyone know what this is?? Squirrel? Rabbit? Oh, and when I went to photograph it this morning, I was so nervous that I dropped my phone, and I think it touched the skeleton head. ICK.

What even is this???
Can you see the little flashlights in center? I took this of them on the swings last night.

In other news, my daughter caught her first False Albacore! She went fishing with her dad, and I was so happy he included her this time. She recited the names of all the fish she knows during a game of Barbies with me last night: “Okay, mommy, there are False Albacore, Tuna, Striped Bass, Bluefish, Fluke, Flounder…” She’s a regular salty dog! She held the fish for a photo, like all those men do on Facebook, so she, too, could have her day in the fisherman sun, if there is such a thing… Oh, and I guess she’s a fisherwoman? Or fisher-girl? She’s not the Fisher King. Remember that movie with Robin Williams? Aw, I loved him. Good flick, too!

It is officially Labor Day weekend here on Cape Cod, a time when the year-rounders often rejoice to reclaim the beaches and avoid traffic. However, those are days of yore, because people are staying now that they can work remotely and go to school online. I guess my wish to have a “Forever Summer” has finally been granted! Oh, and we got an email last night from the superintendent, and it turns out that the first actual full day of school for the kids here is October 13! I mean, the CHRISTMAS DECOR is out at Target and CVS by then. So much for back-to-school shopping. I might buy some pencils AND a new ornament and tree skirt!

Here is this year’s tree. Maybe it’s time to get rid of it? I used the branches to make fires in my fire pit.

Oh, and this happened…my son asked me to get the plunger….This is never a good thing. So, I asked why, and he told me the toilet was clogged, because–get this: he threw a NECTARINE CORE in it. I mean, really??? Like, who thinks that is a good idea? Here is what it looked like before I had to manhandle it and get it out.

SERIOUSLY??

Last, but not least, I am 35 today! (er…) I am so excited, because my son told me I actually look ten years younger since I lightened my hair and cut it! Now that I have no job, I actually have time to go to the hair salon, since it honestly takes three hours (I timed it both times). #silverliningofpenury