Outer Banks Part I - My Pseudo Nephews

My sincere apologies to my loyal readers for my lack of posts recently. We were away on vacation in the Outer Banks for a week and since then have been swamped playing 'catch up'.

Now...onto the post!

I work with kids - all...damn...day. I work with the worst kids, too. Ill-tempered, ill-mannered, rude, disrespectful children. Kids with only one parent (sometimes a 'guardian') who will do anything, ANYTHING, for some attention. I have been threatened, I have been hit, I've even had a chair thrown at me (on several occasions). I have often think, at the end of a long, hard day, that I have failed and I'm not making a difference in their lives, however, they sure are making a difference in mine. I have to use every ounce of willpower I have to not smack the child that slammed a door in my face. I cringe at random childrens' shrieks in the mall. I contemplate asking for a new table at a restaurant when the child in the booth behind me won't stop pulling my hair. I have even questioned whether or not I will one day be cut out for parenting.

As if my job wasn't making me question my prospects of parenting enough, I was about to be faced with 8 days and 7 nights, 24 hours a day with a 2 year old and a 4 year old. Terrifying, no? But these two little boys have now been dubbed "The Cutest Little Boys on This Side of the Brandywine". They, within just hours, restored my faith in the concept of good parenting. (Don't get offended, Meg...I think you are a wonderful parent. But the true test will be when Baby B learns to TALK)

Michael and Ryan

Vacationing with them was awesome, and I miss my morning greeting from Ryan: "Good morning, Tistie. How was your sleep?"

Black Hole

You should be able to see my brains through a hole this big!

Needless to say, the eye dr tortured my already light sensitive eyes with more lights only to tell me that there is a 'slight discoloration' of my retina, but that it was nothing to worry about. The retina has a color?!?

Lonely Nights

I sit here listening to some malt shop classics - alone, because Mike is in NY for work - and I remember how I take my life for granted sometimes, (and I've had a couple of beers which always makes me a little sappy), specifically Mike. He puts up with all of my idiosyncrasies and my moodiness, which is more often than I would like, and who rarely ever seems to have a bad day. So nights like tonight, when I spent a good deal of girl time bitching about not having a ring yet, I feel terrible about myself. I have a beautiful house, that is essentially provided for me by Mike, who rarely says no to my wants, and provides for me, a lowly girlfriend, more than most husbands I know. So why is it that I am so focused on a ring and a wedding? Mysteries that may never be unraveled. One thing that is not a mystery though is that I love him to death and dread the nights he's gone (despite his snoring).

Stinkhorn update...

...since I know you are all waiting with baited breath.

The update is simple and sad. They are not gone. They have moved on to our backyard. One yesterday, two more today. And I can see several more 'eggs' waiting to hatch.

Sigh.

First Birthday!

Many many birthday wishes to my favorite one year old today!!!

The Case of the Missing Sock

Actually, I'm not talking about socks.

But I'm finding these past few weeks, that the missing sock phenomenon applies to more than hosiery. Specifically, tupperware. Just as socks find new homes at some point during the wash-dry-put away-wear cycle, these plastic containers sprout legs at some point during their wash-dry-put away-eat out of cycle and they run away, thereby leading to my fear of buying expensive tupperware. I'll admit, I'm harsh on my tupperware. I nuke it to its melting point. I fail to wash it completely between uses. I often leave some type of marinara soaked pasta sitting in it for months in the back of my fridge, staining it for life. But is that really a valid reason to skip town on me? I can confidently say that I bring 85% of my tupperware home from work. (hey...nobody's perfect) Mike CLAIMS he brings home EVERYTHING. So why is my tupperware collection at less than half capacity?

The mystery remains unsolved, and the case remains open for investigation.

Live and Learn

My hair...was way too long. It took forever to dry, and even longer to style. Which usually led to me pulling it back in a clip or a hair tie. Hence, my need for a haircut.

Obviously, I can't cut my own hair. So I have to pay someone a ridiculous amount to cut it. When I was little, and my mom was paying, it was whomever was available at the Hair Cuttery. In college, it was usually this chick at Cat's Eye salon on Main St. Once I moved to Wilmington, it has been a variety of places - Fabrizio, Ulta, Michael Christophers, Ulta again. I left Fabrizios and Michael Christophers because my stylist kept increasing her prices, but my hair never looked any better, and that practice is baffling to me. I keep leaving Ulta because I want to get my hair done in a nice salon, not the back of some cosmetic store.

My search brought me to Roma Designs. A little rinky dink place on 202 that has no website and I haven't found anyone I know that goes there. You think that would have tipped me off. My thoughts were, it's been around a while so it has to be decent, but it can't possibly charge as much as Salon 926 up the street (a known, elegant salon that charges $45 just to cut hair).

Indications I'm in the wrong place
- I walk in and people just stare. Finally I said to the closest woman, "I have a one o'clock appointment?" "Oh" is her response. Then grumpily finds my stylist, who never introduces herself.
- The linoleum tile and mauve and teal decor.
- The hair washing chair that has to be manually tilted back.
- The stylists are all busy doing each other's hair.
- I'm 'out-aged' by at least 20 years by everyone in the place
- The stylists names are Betty, Dot and Rhonda
- My stylist is late 50s, crazy red hair and dresses like she's in her late 20s (I got Rhonda)

All of this, and you expect to pay $25 for a cut. Nope. FIFTY FREAKING DOLLARS!!!! I could have gone to Toppers in Rittenhouse Square and gotten a head massage and a glass of wine too for that!!!

Needless to say, I'm never going back there. At least the cut was ok....

True Love

Shout out to the BF.

With summer camp approaching and job prospects fading into the distance, my current goal of finding new employment is feeling very out of reach. So, I needed to find a new goal - which is to run the Philly distance run in September. Preliminary training began Sunday, with a nice 5 mile run around the Brandywine 'River'. Went very well except for the monster-sized and painful blisters that formed on the bottom of both feet.

Two days later, I come home to find a pretty little heart gift bag sitting on our bed. In it are three pair of retardedly expensive anti-blister socks! Now let's hope they work...