Wednesday, January 26, 2011

M.O.M. (Mom-item of the Moment)

I'm starting to think that the headquarters of Benefit Cosmetics is peopled entirely by exhausted, underslept mothers. Because they keep coming out with stuff like this, which is my new favorite thing:

It's like concealer on hardcore steroids. You know how most concealer is skin-colored? This is like a light pink color, so when you put it on, at first it looks like you've put white-out on under your eyes. It REALLY covers. And once you get a little makeup and bronzer on, the pink goes away and you are left with eyes that look like they did before you had kids. (Minus the crows feet and frown lines.) Add a can of Red Bull to the mix and you may fool everyone into thinking you're actually sleeping at night.

You can buy it here.

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Pure awesomeness at Starbucks

Can you see it? Can you feel the magic? Maybe you think you're seeing things, as did I, when I witnessed this outfit phenomenon in person. But no, that IS a sequin caftan worn over sweats and tennis shoes. It truly, truly is. I can't make this shit up.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

You know how they have bark collars for dogs?

Years ago, I used to dogsit for an Australian Blue Heeler named Jack. His owners instructed me to put a bark collar on him when he was in the backyard that shocked him if he barked above a certain decibel. It felt so inhumane, because the minute I would snap that thing around his neck he would start doing this weird hoarse whisper bark—like he couldn't control his urge to bark, only his volume. (He also humped my leg feverishly but there wasn't a collar for that particular part of his body.) Lately though, I'm starting to wish there was such a thing as a scream collar for my two year old son. This guy screams constantly—when he wants something, when he doesn't want something, when someone comes near something he wants, when he falls, when I leave the room, when I'm right next to him. When he wakes up from a nap, he usually screams for about the next hour and a half, while I offer him every vice I can think of (Bottle? TV? Video game? Juice? Cigarette? Staple gun?) until he gets distracted by something totally random, like a dog toy, and suddenly turns all smiles while I'm slapping my forearm looking for a good vein in which to insert the chardonnay drip. And lately, he's screaming his little blond head off at night unless I STAND IN THE ROOM WHILE HE FALLS ASLEEP. MInd you, this is no ordinary scream. It's the kind of scream where his voice starts shredding. It's a "I'm being eaten alive by fire ants" scream. It produces gushing streams of mucous and sometimes even vomit. It's horrible. Of course, all I want is to comfort him and make him happy, so I do whatever I can, but I swear it's taking years off my life. The only benefit I can possibly think of is that maybe, just maybe, with all the hand- teeth- and butt-clenching that it's causing in me, I'm building some muscle tone. I mean, gotta find hope somewhere.

I vow to do less in 2011

This year, my resolutions are all about doing less. But I'm not letting myself off the hook here. It's actually much harder to do less than it is to do more. More is about energy, less is about restraint. And while I'm not exactly rolling in either one of those right now, I feel like my life could use more of the latter. So, without further ado, in 2011 I vow to:

Expect less
Consume less
Stress less
Rush less
Yell less
Weigh less
Criticize less
Compare less
Frown less (as a bonus, this will help with wrinkles)
Worry less
Be hard on myself less
Crank less
Frump less

but of course...

Blog more.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

And now back to my regularly scheduled wine

Oof. In the past two and a half weeks, I have:

Seen my husband through his second major abdominal surgery in less than a year

Sprouted two huge chin zits that came back from the dead three times

Discovered that my son no longer wants to sleep in his crib

Barely slept

Drank nearly lethal amounts of coffee

Had a Merry Christmas

Not blogged or tweeted or any other newfangled technical term

Felt blessed that we are all healthy despite my husband's rather large scar and my right twitching eyeball.