Category Archives: Frazzled Working Mom’s Fleeting Moments (2007-2013)

The Countdown Continues

Made it to the casino this afternoon, and had a lovely day.  Told the woman at check-in that I was celebrating my 40th birthday and they sent some lovely desserts to our room.  Also told the blackjack host that I was celebrating my 40th birthday, and they gave us access to the hotel lounge, where we enjoyed complimentary food and wine.  Did you really think that I’d let this momentous weekend pass without trying to get something out of it?  

Unfortunately, however, the casino is currently winning, despite the freebies.  The afternoon started out auspiciously – I was up $175 playing blackjack.  But things went downhill from there and we have some catching up to do.  

Tomorrow is a new day, however.  And I’m confident that I will not be leaving this place without some cash in my pocket – I have a good feeling about it, really I do.

Getting Closer

My celebratory weekend is officially upon us.  Just a couple of days before the decade of my 30s is behind me.  

I’m excited for the next few days.  Girls with Grammy, my husband and I at the casino.  That sounds particularly irresponsible given the current state of the economy, but I don’t care.  Because I’m turning 40, and I’ll never turn 40 again. It’s going to be FUN, FUN, FUN.  I’m even bringing my gym clothes – but that’s a joke.  Because the only exercise I’ll be getting is at the blackjack table.  I’m not even expecting to win – I’m just expecting to have FUN, FUN, FUN.  I may even treat myself to a facial.
For about 30 or so hours, I will be doing whatever I want.  No need to cater to the 7-year old and 3-year old, and no need to really cater to the husband (although I am happy for his company).  It’s going to be all about me.  
And it starts tonight, which is usually my husband’s TV night.  I already told him that it’s now my TV night, which means I’m going to watch a movie he won’t like.  And he won’t be allowed to complain.
For someone imminently turning 40, I’m feeling giddy like a kid.  This is the life.

The Countdown…

…to my big 40 is going to end very soon.  It doesn’t seem real.  It does, however, seem a little old.  I don’t feel particularly decrepit except for the fact that I feel like I’m as distracted and forgetful as ever.  And I can’t seem to come up with a single decent idea for a birthday present when people ask me what I’d like to mark the occasion.  I think there’s something psychological going on there, but I can’t quite pinpoint what it is.

But I like to think that those lapses are due less to my age and more to my very busy schedule.  Chloe claims I sometimes forget to pack her a snack with lunch.  I disagree with that – and until she brings me proof, I refuse to believe that I would ever do such a thing.  Besides, how dare she criticize when for the past four days, she has conveniently forgotten to work on her report about France?
Sophie was able to identify the Jonas Brothers when she saw them on TV commercial today.  That scared me.  What the hell does she know about the Jonas Brothers?  She’s only three years old!   Thanks, Chloe, for contributing to the corruption of your little sister.  
In any case, my mom is taking the girls this weekend so that my husband and I can get away to celebrate my milestone.  I’m looking forward to it.  Maybe the overnight escape will help me feel a little less old.  Maybe not.  But I’m planning to get a facial while I’m at the hotel, which at the very least, might make a couple of the 40-year old wrinkles disappear.

Sophie’s Figured it Out



After a few weeks of Sophie waking up in the middle of the night crying, and after we finally decided to nip the new habit in the bud by simply ignoring her, the crying in the middle of the night ceased.

A few days after it stopped, however, Sophie got smart.  She realized, after all of this time, that she didn’t need to wake up bawling in order to get attention.  Her new M.O. is to wake up in the middle of the night and pay us a visit in our bed.  And fall asleep in our bed.  
This was fine for the first couple of days, as she tended to wake up close to the morning hours.  But she has since discovered that she can join us even earlier at night – and yesterday fell asleep between us at around 1 AM.
Obviously, this new development is UNACCEPTABLE.  I love Sophie very much.  But our bed is not big, and she’s not particularly small anymore.  And she moves around constantly.  And wakes us up by slamming her feet into our faces.  My back is killing me.
Tonight is the night we’re going to put an end to these shenanigans. There will certainly be lots of tears.  But I don’t care.  Sophie has a lovely bed and a lovely mattress that are not getting enough use.  We don’t believe in co-sleeping – at least not with 3-year olds.  I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

Getting Ready


Papa bought a Christmas tree tonight.  It’s very pretty – nice and round, and not too tall.  It fits perfectly into our Christmas tree corner.  

I’m trying to explain to Chloe that I don’t want angels or stars on the top of the tree because it’s too much religious iconography.  I don’t think she gets it, but we settled on a snowman instead.  We have red tinsel (can’t stand tinsel), red ribbons (love the red ribbons), cool ornaments and white lights.
Sophie is of the opinion that Santa is going to love our tree.  She’s also fixated on putting several shiny round ornaments on the same branch, which will likely break from the weight soon.  But she’s having fun and is giggling with delight.  

Shenanigans

Strange things have been happening at our house.  Not only is the sunroom collapsing, but Sophie has been cloned and the fact of two Sophies has transformed Chloe into an alien life form.  

Upon returning from our visit with my friend earlier today, the two sisters were happy to see each other.  For about two minutes.  And then they starting fighting.  “Chloe said poopy!”  “Sophie hit me!”  It’d be nice if they could exist in peace for more than five minutes at a time.  
The problem, as I’ve said before, is that Sophie is simply too verbal.  She knows exactly how to respond to her sister’s attempts at torture, and exactly what to say to piss her sister off.  Chloe is still too young to ignore her.  Which means that Sophie, at the ripe old age of three, generally wins the battles with her older sibling.
This would normally make me chuckle, except more often than not, their shenanigans just give me a headache.  As I write this, however, they’ve reached a brief detente…Chloe is playing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” on the keyboard for Sophie.  All is calm.  I give the cease-fire about ten minutes max.

Off to Philly

Chloe and I are leaving in a little while to go visit my friend and her son in Philly.  

I don’t know if we’ll have time to see the Liberty Bell or the Continental Congress HQ, but at the very least we’ll try to give the kids a taste of the Franklin Institute and perhaps a Philly pretzel (I don’t think a Philly Cheesesteak will appeal to Chloe).
In the meantime, Maxime and Sophie are going to have a very social Saturday – a birthday party and holiday open house.  Papa is going to have to make more small talk in the span of a few hours than he’s made in a very long time.  It’ll be good for him.  I’m sure they won’t miss us in the slightest.
Yesterday, Sophie drew her first portrait of our family.  Chloe, Mommy, Sophie, Papa and Grammy all standing side-by-side.  No eyes, noses or mouths, but five separate kidney bean shapes that she confidently identified for us.  Another artist in training.

Peace!

Chloe loves silly faces.  In this one, she’s channeling Richard Nixon.

We had our parent-teacher conference earlier, and saw some of Chloe’s creative writing.  She wrote some great stories, and at the end of the year, she’ll come home with her “portfolio.”  And I can’t wait to get my hands on it – what fantastic memories of her childhood.  And if ever she goes on to become a famous writer, we’ll have these bits of prose as proof of her early talents. 
Apparently, Chloe sets the example for good behavior in her class.  Which cracks me up, because that’s so far from the case here at home.  She’s a great kid, mind you.  But if I had a dollar for every time I’ve had to ask her to do something more than once, I wouldn’t be concerned about the shocking decline to our 401(k) accounts.  But I guess we’re doing something right if she knows how to behave in public.  

Countdown to 40

First, a note about the photo.  In it, Chloe was channeling Steve Martin’s “King Tut” video even though she’s never seen it.  As for Sophie, I have no idea what she’s doing, except pulling on her boing-boing curls.

I am turning 40 in a few short days.  I can hardly believe it.  It doesn’t particularly depress me, but it seems like I turned 30 only yesterday.  I was in my first year of law school then and Bill Clinton was in the throes of impeachment.
A lot has certainly happened since then.  Sadly, my father, my grandfather and my grandmother all died.  We lived through 9/11.  On the happy side, we now have two amazing children.  We’ve owned two homes.  I was a lawyer, and then I wasn’t a lawyer anymore.  We’ve survived the Bush years. There are a million other things that have defined these last 10 years for me, and I’ll probably enumerate more of them as the big day approaches.
And as I think about the past 10 years, I can’t help but wonder what the next 10 years will bring. Adolescence for Chloe and Sophie (scream!) and all the associated heartache, and trials and tribulations.  College for Chloe (scream again!).  Boyfriends (shoot me now!).  A new home?  A brother who’s a tenure-track university professor (odds are looking good right now)?  A new car or two?  Peace on earth?  A woman president after Obama’s eight years (and I’m not talking about Sarah “pardon the turkey and slaughter its siblings” Palin)?

First Snow?

Sophie woke up the other morning and started to scream in glee. “Mommy, mommy, mommy!  It’s snowing!  It’s snowing!  I want to go outside, Mommy!”

I didn’t want to burst her bubble, but it was hard to refrain from explaining the meaning of the word ‘flurries.’  I managed to keep my mouth shut, however, and gamely helped her to put on her coat and her boots and her gloves.  
She then spent the next few minutes trying to make snowballs.  Which led to frustration, because let’s face it, it’s hard to make snowballs when there is only one millimeter of snow on the ground.  
The snow disappeared as quickly as it appeared.  But at least I was able to memorialize her happiness in this photo.