A little coffee talk....

“Mom, do you think that machine can switch to Louisiana language?”

I never know what is going to come out of my Little Man’s mouth and this morning I was totally confused.

This past weekend I finally entered the modern world and got a Keurig.   Ok, to be honest, I was at a fundraising auction and there was one that not many people were bidding on.  Yes, I realize this is because EVERYONE on the planet already has a Keurig and I am behind the times.  Anyway, for the sake of charity I bought a Keurig. 

It turns out that I bought a super deluxe version of the little coffee genius.  (True confession, I am deeply in love with my shiny metal best friend that lives on my kitchen counter).  My Keurig is amazing!  It keeps the water hot – not like the old model in my office.  It has 8 settings for sizes of cups, yes 8 options!  And while your delicious hot beverage is brewing it plays a little movie of coffee and the hills of Jamaica or wherever coffee is grown.

So, this little contraption is now the center of my Little Man’s world in the morning.  He eagerly makes me a cup of Joe.  I can’t figure out if he likes pressing the buttons or watching the movie more, but either way I am NOT going to complain.

Since my son is ever so observant he read every button and screen on the digital display.  There is a screen that says “Española” and “François”.  He asked what that meant, I told him that was for people who would prefer to read in either Spanish or French.  He was cool with that answer, added milk to my coffee and went about his morning.

A few minutes later, as he was getting dressed for school he asks me, “Mom, does that thing show you Louisiana language?”  I told him that people from Louisiana speak English or some natives speak French.  “No Mommy, they don’t.  They speak Louisiana.”  I was a bit confused about what he meant.  He said “well mommy they spell ‘go’ funny like ‘geaux’, but they don’t mess with ‘Tiger’ because everyone knows you can’t change ‘Tiger’. 

Oh dear!  The joys of raising an LSU fan in Florida…..

DUH! moment of the day....

This photo popped up in my suggested matches on E Harmony.  Please note I haven't been a subscriber in a long time, but somehow they still feel the need to match me.  Anyway I digress....

Really guy, you are a psychic!?! 

Maybe if you were good at your job you would KNOW you were going to get a date and not need an online service? 

Just a thought...

That's some funny Sh*t

I’m funny. 

I can’t say I’m funny in a stand-up comedian kind of way.   I’m funny more in the “What the hell keeps happening to me!?!” kind of way.  Let’s just say that funny just kind of finds me and then I am able to re-tell the tale.   I tend to always have a funny story to share over the office Keurig.  (Ok, we are a modern office and don’t have a water cooler, so no need to use the water cooler reference)  And at happy hour I am sure to come up with some sort of loony tale of something that happened during my day that will have my friends giggling in their Pinot Grigio.  I am never short on stories for small talk and can usually hold my own in a conversation.

Until one weekend at work…  I happened to be working an event where Seth Rogen was spending three days with us.  Since I am always a professional I just went about my business, doing my job and being appropriately social.   Meanwhile inside I was dying to get a few minutes with Seth. I mean- that guy is FUNNY (with a capital F).  I am not a script writer and I didn’t have anything to pitch him, but I still wanted to at least have more of a conversation with him than small talk about our chicken kabobs.

The last party of the weekend was winding down and I was bone tired (Not sure what that really means, but if it means so tired your bones actually hurt – well I was).  I was slowly making my way to the hotel elevator when who do I see waiting for an elevator but Seth and his wife?   Since there was a long wait for the elevator I grabbed a few waters from the Hotel Concierge and shared with the Rogens.  We chatted about college life (the fact that Seth didn’t go to college) and how movies reflect colleges.  This was my moment!  I went to college, I had funny things happen.  I quickly racked my brain.  I shared my funniest memory of college that I swear should be in a movie. 

Set the scene:  A Southern Sorority House, quiet spring morning, just before the first class would start about 7:15 a.m.  Everyone in the house is sound asleep, except the one sister who is studiously dedicated to her business major.  Her petite frame is loaded down with books.  She carries a banana and a cup of coffee in her hand.

Action:  The girl opens the big wooden door of the house, hands full and not really looking at where she is going.  She steps directly into an open Port-O-Potty and screams!   Suddenly the entire house of girls is up and wondering what the sound (and the smell) is coming from the foyer.  Chaos ensued.

Yep, friends, this is a true story.  Some of the members of our neighboring Fraternity decided it would be a funny prank to put a Port-O-Potty on our front door step with its door open so that whoever left our house would walk directly into the smelly hut. 

So, anyway I was able to relay my little scene for Seth on our elevator ride to our hotel rooms.  As he was getting off the elevator he looked at me and said “Wow, you are funny, and that is some funny  Sh*t.”

I definitely appreciated the compliment. (And if you ever see a scene like that in a movie, you can thank me for the inspirational story)

How does your last year look?

Last night I was having dinner with a friend and we were reflecting on our past year.  She mentioned that she wasn’t really in the holiday mood and was pretty much looking forward to 2012 being over.   She told me that she started off last year dating a new guy, moving into a new apartment and excited about her job.  But she is ending the year not dating anyone, frustrated at her noisy neighbors and overworked and underpaid at her job.   When you look at your life in such a way as that I guess she had a point.

Which led me to think about my past year…(if this were a sitcom I would insert some music and make the screen fuzzy to insinuate time travel)….

At this time last year I was starting a new job that WAY underpaid me (but it was a job so I took it!), living with my son at my parents’ house, driving a car that didn’t belong to me (thanks Mom and Dad!) and probably not dating anyone (Ok, sorry about  not know this last fact, but I truly don’t remember my relationship status, which leads me to believe no one of value was in my life at the time).

So here I am in a job that pays well (thank you holiday bonus!), driving a new car I pay for, living in a house I rent and still not dating anyone of mention… If you compare apples to apples, or oranges to oranges, or whatever the heck you want to compare my past year was pretty good!

But I digress… while discussing our success and/or failure of 2012 my friend and I came up with as Oprah would say an “AHA! Moment.”   Basically I think you can determine your attitude about yourself and your past year if you measure it against a goal.  Last year about this time my only goals were to pay my bills and not fight with my mom over turning lights on and off in the house – she is a consistent “Turn the lights off” person and I tend to be a “leave a light on for someone” person.  As you may imagine our lighting philosophies tended to lead to some royal battles.   So I started this year with reasonably attainable goals.  Once I started accomplishing these little goals I was able to really start enjoying my year; new job!  New friends! New travels! New dates! A few bad dates! (Ok, they get explanation points too because, let’s be real, my dating life is HILARIOUS at times) and on and on my list went with new things.

I decided last night that my goal in life (at this moment) is to be a good mom.  Really, simply, that is it.  I have a job that allows me to put my Little Man first.  I have friends who know my son is my priority and I only will date people who understand that as well.  Sure, my long term goals will be to retire wealthy, buy a beach house and travel to Europe.  Of course my professional goals are to get promoted, be recognized as a leader and contribute to our society.  However, for 2013 my one simple goal is to be a good mom and I am happy to say that I am 100% committed to the task. 

As for my friend?   I am not yet sure what her 2013 goals are but I may suggest finding a new place to live as her neighbors really are noisy!

I guess moms can be embarrassing too.

 I have always been the type of mom who makes sure my Little Man is dressed nicely, is polite and well behaved.  Since I am a single mom who works full time my Little Man often tags along with me to work events and community projects I am a part of.  I’ve always stressed manners and have taught him to make good impressions on people (I mean really, I don’t want to be the lady with the kid who looks like a hobo and has runs around like a crazy kid!) 

Apparently over this last week my son has noticed that having his mom around is not the coolest thing.

Exhibit 1: I pick him up at the school office.  Little Man comes down to the office and the secretary, teacher and other moms all talk about how “cute” and “adorable” my Little Man is.  They go on and on about his blue eyes, his smile and his manners.  Of course as a Mom I eat this up. Little Man just stares at me giving me the stink eye.

Exhibit 2:  I take Little Man with me to the office holiday BBQ.  My coworker brought his boys so Little Man is happily swimming and playing with the other kids.  It was getting time to leave and I noticed that my Little Man had HUGE grass stains on his pants.  “Little Man” I yell, “Come over here” I then proceed to tell him that we are going to his Pop Pop’s Holiday Party and he can’t be dirty.  He looks at me, gives me the eye and whispers “Can’t you just call him Granddad?”  His attitude was like a little gangster who just got called out in front of his crew- he was so frustrated with me for using “baby” words and pointing out his good clothes got dirty.  Oops!

Exhibit 3:  We have a few high school and college boys who live on our street.  Little Man likes to play catch with them when they are home on break.  The other night he got all dressed and ready to play, but unfortunately the boys had to go inside.  Not to let my Little Man be disappointed, I volunteered to play catch.  (Side note: One random thing I can do pretty well is throw a football.)  So there we are,  out in the front of the house tossing the ball and I am coaching my Little Man on the best way to throw a spiral.  “Straight like this,” and “stop throwing high, just aim here.”  Little Man kept looking behind him and over his shoulder, glancing up the street.  I couldn’t figure out what his deal was.  Then I heard it “I can’t believe I’m learning football from a girl!” 

Duh! My Little Man was embarrassed that his Mom was playing with him AND was good at it.

Well Little Man, lesson learned for both of us.  I will do my best to stop being embarrassing and you do your best to keep hanging out with me.

Baby Got Back

Maybe my OCD when it comes to having things correct is getting a bit out of control?

I have blogged before about my addiction to proper grammar, so I won’t bore you with that rant.  However I have come to realize that I am pretty much made up of the attitude “if you are going to do something, do it right.”  Seems like a good thing to insist on as a mom, employer, friend, etc.  However I think I have taken my belief a little too far.

First of all, I am stickler for doing homework properly.  In my house this means neat handwriting, full sentences with complete thoughts and taking your time to understand your work.  My Little Man HATES doing homework with me.  He prefers to slide it by his Nanny who happily ok’s his work and gives him hugs and snacks, or my Dad who is usually a bit distracted and trusts that he has gotten it all correct.  I want my son to be learning something, but I also don’t want the teacher who corrects his work to think I’m one of those parents who is too busy to care about his education. I mean, I don’t pick him up from school, I don’t volunteer in the classroom, and I barely pack his lunch.  The least I could do is send him to school with a good round of well thought out completed homework.

The second area of life where I have accidentally over influenced my Little Man is on his outfits.  I just don’t deal well with kids that don’t match.  (Yes, I know all of you parents out there that it is GOOD to let your kid express himself through choosing his own clothes, and yes I know I am probably stifling my son’s creativity.) However, watching my son walk around in two forms of camoflauge paired with stripes and argyle socks stifles my sanity and I am not going to put up with it.  I happily provide my son with plenty of outfit choices and I always buy things in a set so that he can see what matches with what.  I supply basketball shoes for basketball attire, sneakers for the athletic look, boots for skinny jeans and deck shoes for the casual weekend.  Yes, I may go a little overboard with my son’s wardrobe, and yes I did just have to buy him a new dresser to hold his gear.  But, my OCD self is much happier toting around a color coordinated appropriately dressed kid.

This past weekend I realized that my desire to have everything “right” has probably crossed the line.   I found myself teaching my son the words to “Baby Got Back.”  Somehow my Little Man heard parts of the song.  I still am trying to figure out how this song got played in 2012 when it was popular in 1998 but I digress…  I hear my son singing some words like “I like big butts and I lie”.  Oh stop right there! If you are going to sing a song, sing it right Little Man.  “No baby” I tell him, its “I like big butts and I cannot lie” and I go on singing the words.  First, he is super impressed that his Mom knows all of the words (ok, one talent I have his memorizing cheesy rap songs).  Second, he tries to follow along.  “When a girl walks up with a circle thing in your face you go crazy!” he sings.   “No baby the words are…” and I continue. 

Then I realize that not only am I teaching my son inappropriate lyrcis, I am teaching him in public, on a crowded street and other people can hear me.  Ok, I think to myself, I have officially taken my control of all things to make them correct to a whole new level.  I must stop and let go, and I am choosing to do it with “Baby got Back.”

I swear I didn't plan this blog.

I’m a planner. I admit it.  If there were a planning addiction group I would join it.  Then I would plan on becoming it's President.

I plan random things.  I never was one to plan really big picture things.  I never planned where I wanted to go to college.  My parents suggested a few places, I got in, and I went.  But I did plan every last detail of what I would pack, what my room would look like and how I would make new friends.  I was never one of those girls who had their wedding, kids, job after college planned out.  I planned a road trip to D.C.  met a guy, got married then pregnant on our honeymoon (Let me tell you NO ONE plans to do that!).  I then planned the nursery, our house furniture and my labor and delivery schedule. 

I like to plan. I find it comforting to know ahead of time what to expect.    I plan my outfits, my hair styles, and I always plan on being on time (ok, I’m a bit OCD I tend to plan to be early).  You would think all of my planning would make my life an organized peaceful existence.

Until you’re planning involves others!

My family learned years and years ago to sort of ignore my planning.  I call it planning; they may call it slightly overexagerated expectations of others – Tomato/Tomata. Once I planned a wonderful warm Thanksgiving dinner, with pressed cloth napkins, place cards and classical music in the background.  I got a Crazy-Ass Family Turkey Day complete with party crashers, tears over the Turducken (Turkey/Duck/Chicken) and three types of sweet potato casseroles. DEFINTELY NOT in my plan.

I planned my son’s nursery and existence to match mine.  I had a huge fear that my house would be the type of house you walk into and because of its red, blue and yellow Duplex boxes combined with playschool power wheels the house would scream “A KID LIVES HERE”.  I promised myself my son was coming into my life and I would maintain our adult existence. For the first 8 months of my son’s life he was only allowed toys that were green, khaki or white. I planned the color scheme to coordinate with my furniture and other décor.  His burp cloths, blankets, floor mats all nicely matched my throw pillows and sconces.  Life was color coordinated peace.  Until he learned to walk and needed things with wheels and sounds, and apparently things with colors are GOOD for children.  Needless to say my plan went out the window.

My planning prowess has reached a new challenge, that of the world of dating as an adult.  Typically my plans for an evening out revolve around me, my schedule and my commitments.  Enter in a grown man with a job, maybe a kid, maybe a hobby and my planning gets all out of whack!  As I get older (maybe more mature) I find myself wanting to date guys with grown-up jobs, you know the guys – those that have responsibility, maybe a few people working for them, budgets, meetings, so on.  These guys are interesting, can have an actual conversation and have a lot of potential.  Know what the downfall of this guy is ??? 

His plan doesn’t always conform to my plan.

Total challenge for this self-declared President of the Planners Addiction Club.  What do you mean you will be late to drinks because you have a crisis at work?  Or, you can’t take my random call in the middle of the day because I want to plan what we are having for dinner?   And so it goes more and more interruptions to my planning perfection.

Just this morning I was talking to someone about his plans for the day.  I asked typical planning questions like, “what time are your friends coming over?” and “how long are they staying?”   His answer, “I don’t know.”  I suggested he didn’t pay too much attention to details in his life.  He replied “I let life happen.”

Wow!

It hit me. 

Maybe all of the times I spend trying to plan the small details of my life I should relax and let some of life just happen?

Good idea.  I will get right on it, I will just have to plan to add “letting life happen” to my schedule!