Momma Told Me To

I ran out of my favorite perfume sometime last year and chose not to replace it. I was trying to be all minimalist and figured my daily dose of powder fresh Secret deodorant was perfume enough.

Wrong.

I missed my perfume instantly. Few things are more wonderful than a great scent. Tried not to think about it these past few months. I mean, there are bigger problems in the world, I know. Plus, it seemed silly to spend the money.

I've never been loyal to one scent but always loved splurging on perfume every year for my birthday. Well, my birthday is next month, and I was planning to finally buy some Chanel No. 5 to celebrate turning 40. In years past, I've almost bought it several times but instead always opted for something newer, trendier.

When I got home from work today, there was an envelope from my mom with a $100 check in it. She wrote, "Spend this on yourself!" Well, if that's not a sign to buy Chanel, then nothing is.

So, I drove to Macy's, walked right up to the perfume counter and spent $105 on perfume. Yes, it's frivolous, but this powdery scent--the very one Marilyn Monroe wore--is better than clothes or shoes or jewelry any day. I can't stop smelling myself.

Happy early birthday to ME!

Surprise

Trying to put together an essay to submit to Skirt magazine. Their December theme is surprise. Having trouble finding a topic. The only thing I can think of is the awful surprise engagement party my SIL threw for me and Hot Husband two weeks before our wedding. We thought it was a regular ol' Sunday dinner at his parents' house, so we bowed out at the last minute. Managed to tick off a roomful of folks I'd never met before. Awful, awful in a million ways.

Rapunzel Party for Under $100

My daughter asked for a "Tangled" party for her sixth birthday. I was up to the challenge, so much so that I vowed to plan the whole thing for less than $100. No reason, really, except why break the bank on a two-hour party for kids who are still learning how to tie their own shoes?

I kept the guest list minimal, just the girls from her kindergarten class. For the invitations, I used scrapbooking paper I already had.


Total cost: $4.40 for 10 stamps


And my sweet friend Kim made these tower cupcakes:



Cupcakes with ice cream cone towers and yellow licorice hair


I was all set to pay Kim for these mini works of art, but she happened to see my sweater pumpkins on her way out the door. She took her pick of the patch, and we called it even.

Instead of balloons, streamers or paper products, I spent $14 on several yards of clearance fabric and unfurled it from the second floor window so it would look like long hair.

It's not a party until someone lets down her hair.

For favors, I wanted something besides the usual treat bags. Since lanterns are a huge part of the movie, I made my own version from the canning jars sitting in my basement. (I'm not a canner. I'll never be a canner. It was time to admit it and move on.) Some orange spraypaint left over from a failed decorating project and some raffia handles turned them into "Tangled" lanterns that could double as Halloween decorations. The party guests decorated the jars with stickers ($2) and filled them with glow sticks ($5). A craft that doubled as a favor. Done and done.

Since we had cupcakes, pizza and juice boxes, there was no need for silverware or cups. I used my Fiest ware plates. Nothing broke. Probably could've even skipped the pizza.

Although I'd planned a few paper crafts and cookie decorating, we never got around to it. The girls were happy sitting on the couch and petting our elderly Persian cat. And riding around the backyard in the hand-me-down Barbie Jeep. And peering through the cat door into the basement. And exploring my daughter's bedroom. It's always more fun to play with someone else's toys, right?

For the last 20 minutes of the party, they gathered in the living room with their glowing lanterns to watch "Tangled" with the lights out until their moms came to pick them up. It was kinda perfect.

Living in the Moment

With two kids born more than a decade apart, I spend a lot of time looking ahead and looking back. Living in the moment is something that I force myself to do. Friday, after Marshall's football game, Lila and I walked to the field.

"Let me get a picture," I said.

Without missing a beat, Marshall picked up his sister and I snapped a quick shot. As I was taking it, I heard a high school girl say, "Oh my gosh, that is gonna be the cutest picture ever. Oh my gosh!"

Whoever she was, that girl was right.

I waited for the Hipstamatic app to do its thing and then saw this moment captured on my phone. Then I looked at my kids--in person, in real time--and thought, "I'm gonna look back on this picture years from now and cry at how beautiful it was." And then I made myself focus on the now: how beautiful life is right now. Right this minute.  
That was Friday.

Today is Tuesday. Today, Lila turns six. In February, Marshall will turn 17. But, today, I'm gonna focus on right now. And I'm gonna order 9 copies of this photo from Hipstamatic.

Pumpkin families

My third pumpkin family--sold!

A couple weeks ago, my friend Tanya sent me a link to some sweater pumpkins she'd found on Pinterest and wrote, "You could totally make these!" Sure. OK!

So, I bought all the orange sweaters at the local thrift store and started sewing pumpkins--lots of them, grouped into families. And every time I post a pic of a pumpkin family on Facebook, my friends want to buy them. Every single pumpkin family member. My guess is that no one wants to break up the family. I don't even get a chance to list them on my Etsy shop. This morning, I shipped my third family--across the country to California--and can't wait to go home and make more.

P.S. That hat box? Found it this weekend at a consignment shop for $3. I love vintage hat boxes, and it's tough to find them in good shape. On the side, someone had written "white petal turban." That sealed the deal.

Shirtless, nbd



Walkin around after school w/ no shirt, nbd



Remember day before yesterday when I said I'd post something every day? Every single day? Oops. The day was full with work and the evening was full of worry. My 16-year-old son had dashed in from football practice at 6:30 p.m. (shirtless), long enough to say he needed to take a quick shower b/c his girlfriend and her mom were parked out front waiting to take him to dinner. Um, OK.

So, I thought he'd be home by, oh, I dunno, 7:30, maybe 8. 

As it got later, I checked his FB wall, just in time to see that one of his buddies had posted a shirtless pic of him (right). That did not make me feel any better. As a rule and a nod to his privacy, I never comment on his FB happenings, but this time I wrote "This is your mom. You need to put a shirt on."

I checked Twitter. No news there. No pictures, either. Good.

Then 9 p.m. passed. I considered showing up in flowered pajamas at the restaurant to round him up. He was past curfew and not answering my texts. My mind wandered, conjuring up lost phones, car wrecks, a restaurant shooting massacre. With each minute, I got more worried but mostly more annoyed.

He strolled in at 9:45 p.m.

Several excuses ensued, including "We were just watching football" and "My phone died" and "I don't even have that much homework." Turns out, the mom had just dropped them off where they met up with several other friends. I responded with a fair amount of drama. My 5-year-old daughter chose that moment to offer up a song about anger. Something cute about taking a deep breath and counting to 4. She kept telling me I was doing it wrong. "No, take the deep breath before you count."

In the middle of my lecture about responsibility and showing respect to one's parents, I remembered a great bit of advice (paraphrased) that my friend Kim, a mom of three wonderful adults, always gave to her kids: "Remember, you're a reflection of God and a reflection of your parents. Behave yourself." So, I threw that in for good measure, pointing my finger and my face skyward since he's a full foot taller than I am. He stomped away to change the cat litter, an afterschool chore neglected since the day before.

After a cooling-after period of about 15 minutes, he came up to my room where I was in bed, fuming (and pathetically watching a documentary called "Happy"). He pulled up a chair and asked if he could talk to me a minute. It was a very grown-up gesture on his part. I listened.

He said he was sorry for the disrespect. Apologized for not calling. ("I could've borrowed my friends' phones even if mine was dead to let you know I was going to be late.") I felt like I was talking to a big ol' grown-up man. There was just one more issue to discuss.

Me: "And why the heck is there a picture of you on Facebook without a shirt?"

Son: "My friend took that when I was coming out of practice. I know, I should be wearing a shirt."

Me: "And you didn't have a shirt on in front of your girlfriend's mom while she drove you home from practice??"

Son: "Yeah. Not sure why I did that."

Me: "OK, well, you need post on Facebook that 'my mom is right and it's inappropriate to go without a shirt'. And make sure you spell 'inappropriate' right."

So, he did. And then we hugged and called it a night. Just a regular ol' Wednesday in our house.

A Resolution

“Either once only, or every day. If you do something once it’s exciting, and if you do it every day it’s exciting. But if you do it, say, twice or just almost every day, it’s not good any more.”
Andy Warhol


So, I read that quote and Andy got me to thinking about my blog and my, um, quarterly posts. I have always loved Andy, a Pittsburgh boy who made good. Making a commitment to post daily. Maybe I'll take Sundays off. I might not post a lot every day. But I will post something. Better blogging is on my list of things to do. See y'all tomorrow.