Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Pubescent thrills

I once read a book written by a psychologist about people reuniting with a love from the past. It was full of anecdotes penned by people who re-connected with a grade school or high school sweetheart. These reunited lovers all seemed to share a few characteristics:
1. The time that separated them (before they were re-united) was very long. Minimally 10 years, with some spanning 50+ years!
2. They can't remember why they even separated in the first place.
3. When they were reunited, they felt the same feelings as they did in their youth and it was if time had stood still.

Any way, I had an experience that felt just like the so-called reunited love.
When I was 12-14 years old, I often shopped at a store that sold women's clothes called Limited Express. I liked the form-fitting Euro-inspired fashions. And it felt good to buy size XS, any time there was a sale, I could find plenty of cast-offs in the smallest size. And then for 20 years, I totally forgot about them. Fast forward to now, the store is now called Express, I think they've made their sizing a bit more generous (though I've grown to an S now and in some truly form-fitting styles, I feel best in an L) and of course, I'm a lot more generous (in terms of my figure) now than I was at 13. But the fashions are still great and form-fitting, though I'm not sure how much Euro-inspired any more... And for the life of me, I don't know why I ever "separated" from them for 20 years. Nevertheless, it's like my mid-life crisis thrill to buy these clothes. I feel as if time stood still and I feel all glow-y and 13 years old. Minus pimples and certain insecurities. I can't wait for weekends, I'm going to live in tights and long, form-fitting tops. Hurray!


This was shared to me by a co-worker, AKA "Giggles".
It is so cool. Http://
Read about your birthday and those around you. Be sure to select the month and then the date of your birthday to get the full story.
I found it incredibly entertaining and scarily true/insightful. But I'm a sucker for such things. Predictably, my hubby thought it was D U M B . Oh well, his loss. And it will be hard to convince him to paint each of our bedrooms the respective pantone color that brings each of us mental peace and a sense of well-being.

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Express Radio - I love it
Is there a way to get this while I'm commuting on the train? Alas, my Blackberry has no sound.

Sunday, January 4, 2009

Million dollar idea - 24oz "big gulp" bottle?

7:40 PM and I walk sleepily down the stairs; I am so happy that the noisy twosome are finally asleep. My mind races with all the activities I can do - such as putting away the items from the suitcase from our Vermont trip, clearing the clutter on our desk and kitchen, cooking Sadie's lunch for tomorrow, maybe even go to bed early and other boring thoughts a suburban mom might have.

Daisee decides to ruin all of my fun and games. She wakes up screaming at the top of her lungs. She's acting like a crazy and pissed drug addicted junkie. I have no idea what she wants or how to calm her down. One tactic that usually works in a moment like this is to pick her up and walk around with her, but she's getting too heavy and I'm too tired to indulge her. I try a modified version of that by holding her close while I lie down. No dice. So I sit up and do the same thing, but she's still pissed. Then I asked my loving husband to make her 8oz. of milk in a bottle. Lots of thoughts are racing in my head - she's too old to be using a bottle and I'm afraid that after she finishes the 8oz, she will scream her head off, but 8 oz is the limit that a bottle will hold. Finally (probably only 90 seconds, but it felt a lot longer because she's screaming the entire time), Josh comes back with the bottle. I try to give it to her but she resists. So I force it into her mouth. Miraculously, she shuts up and peacefully begins to drink the milk. As she's drinking, I tell Josh about my fear that she will scream as soon as the bottle is finished and why don't they make a 24oz "big gulp" bottle for infants. I know it sounds silly but in moments of desperation and when you want to calm a screaming baby, all sorts of implausibilities start to make sense.
So my prediction comes true -- she finishes the 8oz in no time flat and starts to scream in fits of anger. I asked Josh to fill the bottle again. We agreed on 4oz. We repeat the entire cycle, ending with her screaming her head off after she finishes the second round of milk. Make another one, I command my husband - 8oz! He thinks 6 is enough so he comes back with 6. This time, her angry outbursts seem to be filled with more vim and vigor, probably fueled by 12oz of whole fat milk.
Then it occurs to me that she's pissed because she wants to play. We go downstairs and she immediately stops crying and is full of smiles. How can I take this sentient, moody, willful human being seriously?!