Favorite Things Friday: Mrs. O

For today's edition of Favorite Things Friday, I bring you a newly discovered (thanks Emily Style!) blog which has quickly become a favorite: Mrs. O.

Mrs. O is "a website dedicated to following the fashion of Michelle Obama." Where else could I possibly hope to find fashion and politics in one place? This site is truly a guilty pleasure! Enjoy!

Pride cometh before a fall

It has happened to me so often in my life that I should know it is coming. As soon as I get prideful, cocky or too sure of myself, something happens to bring me down a notch or two.

One of the most memorable experiences of this was, quite literally, a fall. I was just out of college and working on Capitol Hill. I was going somewhere--I have no idea where--and was all dressed up in a great suit and heels. I remember thinking that I looked great, felt great, was off to some great event. Life was grand. I was oh-so-confidently walking down the moving escalator at Capitol South. Then. Suddenly. I was falling. Down the escalator. Luckily, after a few steps, I caught myself. Even more luckily, I hadn't ripped my pants. Though, my leg underneath was pretty scraped up (how does that happen that your skin cuts but your pants don't rip?). My pride was a bit bruised, too.

So yesterday, as I sat on the couch cuddling with Lucas during an episode of Handy Manny, I should have known what was coming. I was sitting there with my almost-too-big-for-my-lap son on my lap thinking that it had been a really successful two days at home, just the two of us. (One my normal day off, the other a snow day.) We had a lot of fun playing out in the snow on three different occasions and we even did lots of fun activities in the house (we painted, played games and watched not-too-much TV). I had straightened up, conquered a mountain of laundry, shredded and made really great dinners each night. I was feeling like I had everything under control and was feeling pretty proud of that fact.

Until. My lap started feeling a little warm. And wet.

Yes, Lucas, who is rarely having an accident these days, peed all over me. And him. And the couch.

Pride. Then the fall.

I finally have my bling back OR Why have I not been hit on in the past 4 months?

I haven't worn my wedding band or engagement ring since August and finally, finally was able to put them both back on last Friday. I feel like a newly engaged girl: I literally can't stop looking at my ring finger and admiring how lovely, shiny and sparkly my rings look!

Why this ring wearing hiatus? Well. It really is an embarrassing story. Back in August we flew home from the Democratic Convention in Denver (that was really just a gratuitous link to remind you that I was there!) and went straight to my parents' house to pick up Lucas. As a thank you for watching him for the week, Abel was going to replace their two old and ugly ceiling fans. So, we all trooped to Home Depot. While we were there, my rings started feeling really tight and I couldn't get them off my fingers. Long story short, I totally freaked out and we spent about an hour back at my parents' using every trick in the book to get them off. Now, remember, I was just recently off prednisone which had made me balloon up like a marshmallow woman, I had just flown, it was hot hot hot and humid. Looking back, I am certain that had I just been able to chill out and leave my finger alone for a few hours the rings would have slid right off. But. No. I was obsessed. And with each attempt (Yes! Crisco will work!) my finger got more and more red. More and more swollen. And, I got more and more panicky.

Finally, I gave in to my mom's suggestion that I go to their trusted and close-by jewelry shop to have them cut off. Extreme? Yes. Warranted at the time? Yes.

It was a truly awful experience, not painful, just awful to have them CUT off. Yet, when they were off, it was such pure relief. And, as suspected, in just a few hours my finger was just fine.

My rings? Well, those were cut and mangled.

At first I relished my bare left hand. After all, I was securely married. Who says I need the rings to prove it? Then, I started to desperately miss my rings. I felt so bare and empty without them.

Yet, I never got myself to a jewelry store to fix them. Partially this was because, while my plain band and solitaire diamond are modest in comparison to many others, that diamond is, by far, my most expensive piece of jewelry. I didn't know where to take it!

So, over Christmas I took it back to my parents' jewelry store to have them fixed. And, um, sized up just a tad.

And now I have them back -- perfectly fixed, polished and looking like the day I first put each of them on.

Oh how I missed my bling!

Yeah, and I'm trying not to let my self-esteem get too hurt by the fact that after more than FOUR months without wedding rings I was not hit on once. Not once. (Let's just blame it on the diaper bag, okay?)

Life at 3

1. My parents came to visit this weekend and my dad was joking with Lucas on Friday night saying that he (Lucas) was a monkey. Lucas protested that he was not a monkey but a little boy. Dad was joking that he had a tail and it was just covered by his pants. Then we moved on. Monkeys were not mentioned again. Until. Out of the blue on Sunday at lunch Lucas put his butt up in the air towards my dad and said, "Gramps, I'm a little boy. Not a monkey. See, I don't have a tail, I have a bootie."

2. Generally when Lucas wakes up from his nap, he stirs a bit then yells down "Mama/Dada I'm awake!" In fact, he got really mad at me the other day when I heard him stir and went upstairs before he called for me. Yesterday Abel and I caught up on the season 3 premier of Big Love during Lucas's nap time and were savoring some Sunday afternoon lazy TV watching. I thought I heard him stir, but he never yelled down, so neither of us went up to get him. Then, suddenly it dawned on me that I was hearing cartoon voices through the monitor. I went up and Lucas was sprawled on the guest bed with his arms behind his head watching TV! When I asked why he didn't yell down to tell us that he was awake, he said, "Because, Mo-om, I was tiptoeing!" I called him a sneaky Pete and he replied, quite indignantly: "I'm Lucas not Pete!"

3. Lucas can and does divide the entire world into Dada items, Mama items and Kinky items: large, medium and small, respectively. Anytime there are three of something they are always "Dada, Mama and Kinky". If there are three trees they are Dada tree, Mama tree and Kinky tree. If we drive by a big backhoe and a small backhoe then they are "Dada Scoop" and "Kinky Scoop" (Just as Handy Manny has turned all hammers into "Pat", Bob the Builder has renamed all construction vehicles into names like Scoop, Muck and Dizzy.)


Edited to add: It's funny, I thought I was just writing three cute little stories about Lucas being a 3 year old. But, after hitting publish, I realized these really illustrate his qualities right now at 1 month into being 3: very literal, getting more and more independent (and a little sneaky!), and a strong desire to categorize everything.

Favorite Things Friday: Handy Manny

After a brief hiatus, Favorite Things Friday is back! Today, for the 12th edition of Favorite Things Friday, I bring you one of my--and Lucas's--favorite cartoons: Handy Manny.

There are so many annoying cartoons out there. If you have a young child, you know what I'm talking about. And, Lucas, well, he tends to get into cartoon jags. It's Caillou or Max and Ruby and over and over and over again until I am ready to poke my eyes out.

But, Handy Manny.

Well, I never tire of Handy Manny. The story lines are good. Not complicated, but good. I love that the mayor and owner of hardware store are both women. Manny is really a great guy. And, it doesn't hurt that he has a super smooth voice. Had I actually gotten to meet Wilmer Valderrama at the Latino Gala, I'm pretty sure I would have been the only woman there screaming "I love you, Handy Manny!"

If your child does start watching Handy Manny, be prepared: every hammer you see will be named "Pat" every saw "Dusty" and every wrench "Squeeze".

Inauguration and the Purple Gate, Part 3

Okay, okay, I promise* this is the last thing I am going to write about the purple gate debacle at the inauguration.


Oh my gosh. I totally was going to write on my first "Inauguration and the Purple Gate Debacle" post that purple gaters should demand a do-over. But, I didn't write that. Because, you know, that was just so totally impossible it wasn't worth the screen space.

But there was a do-over!

Yes, indeed.

Late last night Chief Justice John Roberts went over to the White House and Obama re-took the oath. It was just a tad bit annoying how badly Roberts flubbed the oath on Tuesday afternoon. White House Council Greg Craig said this was done for "an abundance of caution." Which I think was a smart idea considering that as of December some crazies were still trying to claim that Obama wasn't an American citizen.

But, I do think an opportunity was missed--purple ticket holders should have been invited to the do-over!!

Oh, and here's your fun fact of the day. According to the American Bar Association Journal, two other presidents have re-taken the oath of office: Calvin Coolidge and Chester Arthur. (Chester Arthur? Who the heck is he?)


*fingers crossed. I'm hoping to move beyond the purple gate by tomorrow when Favorite Things Friday will resume. But, if something comes up, I'll be forced to revisit the subject!

Inauguration and the Purple Gate, Part 2

Wow.

Obviously I knew that there were thousands of fellow purple gate ticket holders who, like me, were unable to get into the inauguration, because I was standing in the mob scene yesterday morning with them. But, for some reason, I was still surprised when later in the evening at a fun, low-key election night party, I heard that several people had the same experience. And then the comments just started flowing in on my previous post. People who Googled "inauguration purple gate" got my post at the top of the page--my blog traffic increased by 150%.

On one hand, it is nice to know that Abel and I weren't alone in our disappointing experience. On the other hand, I feel so terrible for the many, many people whose stories were much worse than ours. Thank goodness we weren't actually inside the 3rd street tunnel. I am certain I would have really freaked out. Thank goodness we hadn't spent thousands of dollars to get to Washington, DC for the event. I truly count our blessings and hope that all those other folks are, at some point, able to look back on the day with some positive feelings and not just the bitter disappointment and anger they most certainly were entitled to feel initially.

Here are some updates on the story in general.

1) The saga of the purple gate and purple ticket holders is getting reported in the news media.

The Washington Post has reported it. Laura Sullivan reported the story on NPR. Interesting to note that Sullivan reports that the DC Police take no responsibility for that section, despite the fact that the very few people "in charge" that I did see were indeed DC Police Officers. The Secret Service has no comment (my guess is that they never comment) and the Capitol Police hadn't returned NPR's phone calls for the story.

2) Congressional leaders have taken notice.

The Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies issued a statement today saying that the committee "deeply regrets that some ticket holders were not able to get to their ticketed sections, primarily in the purple and blue sections. They promise to "thoroughly examine every aspect...to prevent similar problems."

Alaska Representative Don Young is circulating a "Dear Colleague" letter. While Young would be pretty far down the list of my favorite Members of Congress, his letter reportedly states, "it was a failure in planning and organization which must be explained." The fact that he plans to send it to Sen. Dianne Feinstein (D-CA.), chairwoman of the Joint Congressional Committee on Inaugural Ceremonies, will certainly make one of my anonymous commenters happy.

4) The story is all over the blogosphere. Seems that many bloggers had purple tickets, including Queen of Spain, Mama Bird Diaries, Technosailor and I'm sure many, many others. Maybe by 2013 they'll be smart enough to give the bloggers tickets to the sections that do work :)

5) Finally, to finish on a light note: purple ticket holders (and others) left out of the ceremony can commiserate on Facebook! Join the "Survivors of the Purple Tunnel of Doom" group. As of this posting there are more than 2,000 members, including yours truly, of course!