I'm at the same grammatical level as Mike Tyson

How is it that I skated by over 30 years of life without knowing that CANNOT is ONE word and not two? A co-worker of mine helpfully pointed this out and I'm so grateful. She had courage to tell me the equivalent of you have spinach stuck between your teeth. THANKS JK!!!!

On another note, I checked with my husband and office neighbors, they all knew it was one word too. Josh added, altogether is one word. I knew that. I added ARE NOT are two words. Except I think I said, ARE NOT is two words.

Confession: I nearly failed the test of standard written english (TSWE), a test of grammar that I had to take with my SATs. This is why I'm saying I'm on par with Mike Tyson.

Bummer!

It will be a full month since I placed my monogrammed towels order before I receive them in my greedy little hands.
Stay tuned - when I receive them in little less than two weeks, I will provide a full report with pictures galore.

Because life is so short...

I'm going to pick up my goody goody husband's habits. Last weekend, I decided that I will now garden. Tonight I just got back from exercising with him. I jogged slowly while he power walked and we enjoyed a good conversation.

Dazee walking!

All of a sudden, Dazee can walk many steps. Literally, only yesterday she was falling down the stairs due to intentional parental negligence and last week she fell into a hole we dug. How fast they grow!
She's going to be one in exactly one week!
At the end of the video, you get glimpse of her sister trying to kill her. The loud giggling is my mother. Sadie is saying in Thai - Moo Tong (Dazee's Thai nickname) is walking!

For my dial up customers, the video is 14.5MB so it might be too frustrating for you.

Make work play

For quite some time, I had been struggling when attempting to feed my younger daughter a bottle of milk. She is very clear about her displeasure: her body stiffens, she bucks her head back and forth like an angry bull, pushes away the bottle with much force and screams bloody hell.

There's even a funny story about Josh feeding Daisy. Once, he was asked to feed Daisy and was given information by my mother that she will "act" resistant, but keep persisting and she will take her bottle. He relayed to me that he used all of his force and he could not overcome her resistance. First he started pushing on her and she pushed back. He also tried to force the bottle down in a stealthy way, to which she responded with effective blocking. Can you imagine a 170 lb man taking on a baby?!

Anyway, Daisy's scorn for milk sent me into a tailspin of scientitific and emotional analysis - did she not like the temperature of the millk, was the composition of milk to formula ratio too large or small, did she like to eat upstairs or down, was she pissed at me for going back to work, is she mad about weaning from nursing, etc.? I kept adjusting whatever variables I could think of, hoping to cure her contempt and get the feeding done. These experiments yielded some success (though inconsistent, much like how the primaries are playing out for Mrs. Clinton).
Yesterday, I might have found the silver bullet. Instead of approaching feeding her as something I needed to do, as an end goal, I approached it as a process.

I put her into my lap in the "position", she clearly knew what was going on and started her baby-in-distress routine. But instead of trying to shove the bottle of milk into her mouth, I let her pull off the cap. Then she put it back on. She did this about six times, each time I told her in a high pitched baby voice "open" or "close". This activity was highly amusing to her baby senses. Then in her excitement or lack of dexterity, she drops the cap. So I move it to feed her and she drinks a little milk. After a few sips, she pulls off as if I'm trying to gag her and we play the open and close game again. After a few volleys, she starts to open her mouth wide to "eat" the cap, I take this as an opportunity to pull the cap away and insert the bottle. Success.

I had to approach the feeding as an activity that was an enjoyable activity for both of us. I went from "I must feed her" to "I must trick her" to "I will enjoy her".

My little geisha

This was taken at a Japan fair.

Humiliated!

On Friday, we attended adult Shabbat services. As I walked through the parking lot, I noticed a group of people, all decked out in finery. Men with wool suits and women in fashionable tops and skirts. I had a sinking feeling about my own outfit as well as my daughter's; we were both wearing tight skinny jeans with sneakers.

As it turns out, you're supposed to dress up for Shabbat. My Jewish husband failed to tell us that. I hate violating a dress code or being disrespectful and on top of that, I was actually called to the bima for an aliyah. I wanted to crawl into a hole!

While I was up there, one of the rabbis started rubbing Saydee's sweatshirt and remarked, Oooh what a nice sweatshirt. I don't know if he was trying to be a jerk or was totally clueless but I was humiliated enough without this extra attention.

At the bima, I'm standing next to a women who generally looks like a slob. I barely recognized her with make up and all decked out in a velvet suit. Another woman next to me is wearing couture like clothes - a pleated silk skirt, silver silk sweater top and her neck was accessorized with a diamond vine necklace.

I still feel humiliated!!!

Busy weekend

Lilacs! Not particularly beautiful on the bush, but after I cut them and arranged them into some vases, they are quite nice indoors. Fills up the bathroom with a great smell, unlike what we're normally used to.
Some beautiful tulips Josh planted in our front and back yard. I was skeptical that they would come up given how late in the season they went in.

We'd been admiring the weeping cherry trees in our neighborhood so we got one yesterday and planted it. We dug a 2 ft hole (whew!). Sadie was a huge help in pushing the dirt in her wagon while poor Dazee fell into the hole! Here's Sadie standing in front of the finished product. Scraggly-looking, but I'm excited to see the progress over the next few years.

Backlight setting!

Look at the difference between these two pictures of the same thing with a different camera setting!

Date Night!

Yesterday, for the first time in a long time, Josh and I had a date night. We went bowling and had a pretty good time. In our first game, Josh was on fire and scored an impressive 136. I was pretty hot myself with my score of 94. Then we bowled a second game and our scores really soured. 100 for Josh and 77 for me.

On another note, we were shocked how expensive bowling is compared to our youthful memories. $7 per game and $4.50 for shoe rental. Ripoff!

My daughter the model with a gut

I've been talking or half-joking a lot about pimping my kids to pay for college. I totally forgot about how my daughter's photograph has already been published!Last year we were approached by a photographer for the Daily News at the New York Botanical Garden. Sadie was not in a good mood for pictures. The photographer took hundreds and probably none came out good but I think she thought Sadie was so cute, she used a picture any way. Check it out the Daily News website for the online version of the "story". I never bought a copy of that day's newspaper, maybe I should, for her portfolio of pro-bono work. Oh wait, wrong career.

Caption: Sadie Star, 2, looks like a little flower herself as she points to the colorful display.

Heartbreak hotel

Each morning, before I leave for work, my younger daughter is gripping tightly as I struggle to put her down or pass her to my mother. My older daughter is standing on a step stool, waiting for a hug and a kiss. Before I step out of the door, I see my second daughter writhing and crying in my mom's arms, hoping I'll come back and take her back into my arms. As I walk out, I turn around and I see my older daughter's face pressed to the window by the door. I wave and look back a few times until I can't see her anymore.

Living Large

While my husband is eating, in the executive dining room, a daily hearty breakfast of toasted bagel with lox, tomatoes, onions and capers, fresh squeezed citrus juices, yogurt and who knows what else he’s cramming down his mouth, I’ve used our executive health services twice in the last 3 months.

I can only rave about the refined VIP services. They must be mistaking me for somebody else, but I like to play along. Let me describe how today’s visit went.

I called at 11:30 and got booked for a 12PM appoint – the same day! As I walk in, I’m surrounded by hardwood floors and Pottery Barn furnishings. After a few minutes of sitting on an abundantly cushioned sofa reading Town and Country magazine, someone politely interrupts me to apologize for the wait. The doctor will be with you shortly, she assures me.

A few minutes later, the doctor comes into the waiting area, greets me, shakes my hand and introduces herself and I’m almost pissed that I didn’t get to finish reading/daydreaming in the article about how Georgio Armani’s niece furnishes her apartment in Milan. In a regular doctor’s office, I’d be sitting on crappy, stained and un-cushioned industrial furniture with exposed bolts, reading a wrinkled pored over copy of something like Reader’s digest, waiting for an hour until some loud, obnoxious and uncheerful employee shouts and mispronounces my name with unmistakable irritation.

Back to my executive health nirvana -- There are no forms to fill in or long checklists of ailments to complete because the doctor asks specific questions, listens to you and takes down notes. Then the doctor takes your vital stats, not a nurse or assistant so there’s no time lost in “changing of the guard” as different employees parade in and out of your exam room.

Then I go to have blood work done. The phlebotomist wants to know if I prefer blood to be drawn from my left arm or right. She tries to reassure me because I don’t like being pricked with a needle. While she inserts the needle, she engages me in a banal conversation, she wants to verify that I’m wearing cashmere and how soft she thinks it is. After that’s completed, I’m invited into the wait area to eat or snack. This is where I hit pay dirt big time. Grilled vegetables, salmon, fresh squeezed Valencia orange juice, an array of cheeses, sesame crackers, non-fat apple muffins and on and on await me. I munch on some California roll, help myself to some shrimp kebabs and crunch on some steamed vegetable medley- cauliflower, broccoli and carrots. It’s like I’m at a spa. I can’t finish my food so I decide to carry out the leftovers. Someone asks me if I want a bag and I feel like a total chazer.

After I’m done, I check out with the receptionist, who provides me with the bill, perfectly folded in a ecru envelop, as if I just spent $10,000 on knick knacks. My tab? $15.

The only thing that can dampen the situation is how much information is released to your employer. I’m going to assume that it’s private but you never know. It’s obviously subsidized, insurance could never endorse or reimburse for the refined, service-oriented experience.

Sushi - more American than apple pie

So my diatribe on sushi spurred some off-line outcries. Yes it's true, sushi makes me gag. This is a big step for me - I don't like admitting it- it sounds so unsophisticated that I don't eat sushi. I also hate sourdough bread. There.

I discovered a new and effective diet

...eat foods you hate. Yesterday I forced myself to eat sushi for lunch. It made me want to gag. By dinner time, I was still reeling from the effects of eating the most horrid food I can think of.

This morning, I'm still not fully recovered. Even my favorite foods don't seem enticing.

I'm feeling thin and cranky. I think I'll go use heroin now and hope for a modeling contract.

Despiccable selling strategies

Whenever I get a manicure or my eyebrows threaded or waxed in a new salon, they get so excited to sell additional services in a not so polite manner.

Do you want a mustache wax? they often ask. If I politely say no, they up the ante. How about your back, do you want that waxed? Jesus! It's so wrong to prey on my self-esteem so that they can make more money.

Josh relayed a similar story at Saks. Someone was trying to sell perfume to him but he politely declined. So they escalated it to do you want to get skincare? He declined to do that. Then they lashed the final blow, do you want to get something to correct the sun damage on your face?

How can these scum-bags look at themselves in the mirror every morning? How can they live with themselves, using these cheap and insulting tactics to sell products or services?

They grow up so fast!

We took Sadie to work today. Co-workers and I helped apply lipstick, blush and nail polish on her. She was loving it. She insisted on walking around with my high heels on.

It's a freaky how a little makeup and high heels instantly transformed my cute toddler daughter into a beauty pageant vamp.

Doody talk

People love it!

Here's a link to an Advertising Age article on how direct the toilet paper ads have been getting and recently, their sales figures are up.

Here's a link to a Charmin ad where a bear gets pieces of toilet paper vacuumed off his behind and later they shake their groove thang more confidently.

This doesn't make any sense

On weekends, I wake up like 2 hours later than weekdays and I can easily skip breakfast without even realizing it.

On weekdays, if I eat something piddling like a banana as soon as I wake up, I can last until a late lunch (past 1 PM). However, if I eat a nice breakfast (like a bowl of oatmeal and granola), when I arrive at work (about 1 1/2 hours after I wake up), by 11 AM my stomach is growling and I feel so dizzy for food. Why do I starve for food and much sooner the more and later I eat on weekdays?!!! You would think a big bowl of oatmeal can last me to a late lunch but as soon as I eat it, I'm ready for a steak.

So excited!!!

I just ordered 21 monogrammed towels from Horchow.
I'll get them in two weeks.

A few things that could dampen the situation:
1. What if they arrive and the quality or colors are not what I expected? Because they're personalized, I won't be able to return them. I probably won't have much luck trying to eBay KSJ monogrammed towels.
2. What if in the meantime or even at a later date, I find other towels I love? Then I'm going to kick myself.

Finally, how come towels come in such pale, demure colors? I'd love to get a rich royal purple but I can't find this anywhere. Moreover, the purple family in towels seems like a rarity. Most people want their towels in shades of white or blue? WHY?!