My New Favorite Number is 35

I've been drifting about in a dream world for the last six days. It has been The Thirty-Fifth Anniversary of the Celebration of My Birth and it has been really fabulous. Now, I know that most people use the more conventional phrase, "my birthday" and I tend to do that as well when I am restricted by the confines of social mores, but since this is, well, my blog, I am going to be slightly self-indulgent (which I never, ever do in real life anyway).

The festivities started out on Friday...
I got home from work and Mr. Lipstick had cards sitting out for me. He had written one for me and he and the kids had made one for me. They are even sitting next to the card (that I read four times straight with tears spilling out of my eyes) from my father-in-law which says that he is happy Mr. Lipstick married me. I stood looking contentedly at my bookshelf (which was built by Mr. Lipstick, of course) and sighed and thought, life is truly good.

Then Nonna and Mommy and Daddy Lipstick swooped into town late Friday afternoon with some secret packages and a very large box that just HAD to go in the refrigerator. After the chaos and mayhem subsided a bit and the kids were sort of headed to bed, Mr. Lipstick and I were on our way to Ye Olde Fancy Steakhouse for a romantic dinner. Something fun about Ye Olde Fancy Steakhouse is that it opened in 1974 and anyone can learn this by reading the script at the bottom of the dishes. I like going to a restaurant and seeing, "Est. 1974" because inside my head I am thinking, me too. I am not sure if that is narcissistic or just stupid, but you don't have to just rush out and comment on it, k?

Mommy Lipstick just kept chasing me around, asking me if I wanted to open my present before dinner. I wanted to wait because I like to drag out the fabulousness of the occasion as looooooong as possible. I am happy to open my presents at 3 am, thank you very much. Well, there was more chasing and asking and refusing. I just didn't get it. Apparently, and it is only a suggestion, mind you...I am hard-headed.

Before I knew it, there were cards and a sack that was overflowing with curly ribbon practically floating in front of me. I looked up at the smiling and expectant faces of my loved ones who were clearly in on a secret. I slowly stuck my hand down in the sack, swirled around the paper, and my hand landed on a felt box. My heart stopped.I felt dizzy and giddy and overwhelmed and overjoyed. Amazed and excited. Actually speechless too.

Back in April Mommy Lipstick found this ring and thought it would be a perfect birthday present. She called Mr. Lipstick. He agreed. She called Nonna who also agreed. She called Daddy Lipstick. He agreed. They all bought my birthday present and then they all kept it a secret. For five months.

I am still pretty amazed and excited. Still overwhelmed and overjoyed too.

Oh, by the way...the deal about the box that HAD to go in the refrigerator...it was this cakeand y'all that was fabulous too.

Superfreak (or You Can't Be Too Careful but You Can Be Too Crazy)

Yesterday Pretty Girl was sent home from preschool with a fever. She had a fever this morning. Like good, responsible and informed parents we alternated Tylenol and Advil and recorded her temperature. This morning she coughed. It sounded gravely serious to me. Hacking and in her chest.

I worried all the way to work. I also worried Mr. Lipstick a bunch by calling him all day to check on her. I got worried that we might have to take Pretty Girl to the doctor tomorrow. I spoke to my boss to make arrangements for the possible appointment tomorrow in the possible event that Pretty Girl might possibly still have fever and coughing. Then I decided that I should just call the pediatrician.

Yes, I am a pharmacist. You did read that correctly on my profile. Somehow the combination of my child being sick completely voids all of my clinical knowledge. A patient can walk in the pharmacy and I can give thorough advice, help him navigate through medications or drug interactions...you know, all that stuff that pharmacists do. If my child is sick, my anxiety hovers in the stratosphere. I simply can't think.

I made an appointment for tomorrow. I decided that a Fellow of the American Academy of Pediatrics needed to listen to her precious lungs and supervise the taking of her temperature. After all, what if she had (insert obscure and fatal childhood disease)?

I felt better. Mr. Lipstick was grouchy. Downright mad. Whatever....men. I don't know why he wasn't taking this fever and cough as seriously as me. Well, perhaps because I got home from work and the fever had totally disappeared and so had the cough. We have been fever free and cough free for 7 hours now. I hope they don't charge me for canceling that appointment. I'm sure some other hysterical mother will be happy to get it though.

Climb the Highest Mountain, Odds Are You'll Freeze and Die

Feel inspired?
Not so much...what about these?


Check out Demotivators for lots more fun. This post is dedicated with a sarcastic wink to all who have worked in an office with cubicles, headphones, and a ridiculous number of motivational posters lining the endless bland walls. My personal experience was in pharmacy school and (surprise!) it was a foolishly optimistic dot-com. My co-workers were cool, the money was great (and was I ever eternally grateful), and the work was a level of monotony that chipped away at all of my synapses. Oh yeah, and EVERYONE ate Lean Cuisine. When fifty people eat Lean Cuisine within an hour and a half of each other, a break room starts to smell really weird.

Urgent Health Update Affecting Nurseries Nationwide

One of my esteemed colleagues notified me of this latest concern regarding the H1N1 virus. You have been warned and are hereby advised to make the appropriate adjustments accordingly.

Blood Loss

It is not often that I am simultaneously excited about an event while dreading it. Tonight at 9:00 EST on HBO the True Blood season finale airs. Grrrrr.

Do. Not. Forget.

It's been eight years. I am still angry.

I Am Going to Re-Enroll in Junior High (or Why I Am a Total Loser)

The current state of my forehead makes me want to commit the unpardonable sin of skin. Oh yes, dear friends...I am talking about the death bed. I want to bake and fry and dry out every pore to rid myself of this unfairly aggressive attack of adult acne. My face seems covered with those awful painful bumps, and consequently it is covered with medication and concealer. Even Pretty Girl said, "Mommy, boo boo."

I feel like some awkward adolescent minus the backpack and school ID. I could probably pull off the charade if I was able to text faster. This whole acne flare-up has me constantly saying, "what the (insert your favorite curse word here)?". Oh, well. And get this...the other day I was at work and discovered that my pants weren't zipped up. Thank goodness I am an adult and I do not eat in a cafeteria.

Never fear, y'all...my death bed days are long behind me. My new standard of beauty (vampire) combined with my burning desire to avoid skin cancer scare me into constant shade and SPF.

Did you know that I am also loser-ish because it is broadcasted on Facebook that I do not have a life? Mmmm-hmmm. Yep. I am so serious. Well, alright I am being a little bit melodramatic (which would totally shock those who know me IRL). Mysteriously my new blog posts show up on my Facebook page hours (HOURS) after I have actually posted them on my blog. So, of course, it appears that I am always posting at ridiculous hours when I should be working or sleeping or getting ready to work or sleep. Nice. As if I am not doing a good enough job looking like a loser on my own with my acne and my unzipped pants, Facebook has to finish the job. Seriously. There are worse things in the world to complain about, but tonight this is what I select.

*hey y'all...remember that song from Beck? it is 15 years old!!! WHAT THE (insert your second favorite curse word here)?*

You Mean It's All Over

Playing outside 'til dark.
Sleeping late the next morning.

A birthday party that featured a magician and a REAL rabbit.
A football game for Mr. Lipstick and JBB; Mexican food for Pretty Girl and me.

Breakfast on the patio and a few hours at the park this morning.
Naps in the afternoon.

Work and school tomorrow morning.
Trying not to whine about it tonight.
Currently on the second glass of (plum) wine.

315 New Messages and Other Atrocities

Hello, dearest readers! I am ecstatic to report that we have survived the sixth annual celebration of JBB's entrance into life on this earth. Thank you for your kind words of encouragement. One of these days when Bravo films The Real Housewives of Blogger, I'll get to hang out with The Preppy Princess, Privilege and Three for Tippy and I will be able to thank them in person for such fabulous words of wisdom. Until then, cyberhugs with have to do.

Since Mommy and Daddy Lipstick have already returned home to the quiet respite of The Empty Nest, I am sending them cyber thanks as well. Friday afternoon they swooped into town and helped me clean, polish, plan, organize, and lest I forget, entertain my children. Saturday morning the back driveway looked a little something like this.
Clear as mud, isn't it? Well, there are a lot of great venue places in town to host a child's birthday party. In fact, JBB's party last year was at a gymnastics center. All of these places are convenient, safe, and loads of fun. The only problem is that by the time a child has reached the ripe old age of SIX (like my dear sweet JBB), he has hosted/attended numerous parties at all of these venues.

SO...I thought, what would be interesting, different, unique for our family? Hmmmmm....that idea became "The Building Party."

Here was our premise: All of JBB's friends and their siblings were invited to build a treasure box. Mr. Lipstick pre-made the bottom, middle and the top and he also pre-painted them. Each child could select any color combo, and then Mr. Lipstick would do the final assembly. The children would then affix stickers to the box to decorate (princess, pirate, cars, stars...). While we had cake and ice cream, Mr. Lipstick would add a layer of lacquer to seal the stickers.

Mr. Lipstick opened with a song (although half of them wanted to keep playing on our giant rock pile which is incidentally full of fossils)...then he assembled the boxes that the children customized (thankfully more fun than the rock pile)...(at which time the lack of sleep was starting to take its toll on dear Mr. Lipstick). Never fear, time for the cake...(notice how trying to balance a cake and a too-large-for-a-cake-decoration-but-we-did-it-anyway-Power-Ranger seems to bring out the double chins in me?). Thankfully a good time was had by all(notice the camera in one pocket and a big box of matches in the other...klassy, huh?). As for my idea of curling up Saturday afternoon with my laptop and catching up on reading all your blogs...well, that merely confirmed my suspicion that I usually exist in some type of dream world of my own creation. Mr. Lipstick, Pretty Girl and I passed out. JBB played happily, quietly, and most contentedly in his room with his newly acquired treasures while we recuperated.

My goodness, did we ever need our strength. This week has been JBB's first week of full days of kindergarten. There has been real work, actual learning, homework of sorts, and LOTS of things to remember. I have sent notes and emails to the teacher every day this week. I am convinced she thinks I am certifiable. I think I handled pharmacokinetics better than this. I have been so stressed that I have been wringing my hands and massaging my forehead like an executive at Lehman Brothers before the fall. I am even in the midst of an acne attack. I should be quarantined.
Tonight, however, has been a major victory. I am awake and I am typing sentences. Tomorrow I may run a marathon. You just never know.

(Finally, for all you True Blood fans. Sorry y'all...you know how I get all obsessed with stuff. Isn't Evan Rachel Wood the worst actress in history? I have seen better performances on the stages of high school cafetoriums. Your thoughts?)