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My Sister-Wife

6/30/2010

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Well, I just dropped Jen and Rowan off at the airport (and into the expecting arms of Jen's mom - aka Grandma - who also flew out with Jen to enjoy some quality Vegas recreation) and I'm sad. It's so exciting to have an old friend in town and it's so tough to see them go. As I remarked to Jen at one point during our visit, "It's so nice that we can talk about people/things without constantly having to reference or give background on the story! You have pretty much been there for all of the major experiences in my life since the age of 18."

It's hard to find people like that, and when you do, you hate to watch them board a plane and travel 1800 miles away.

It was a typical Jen/Kim week. We lost a cell phone (hers, not mine.) We almost sucked the will to live out of our children by accidentally driving around in 110 degree heat in a car with poor AC (don't worry, everyone is fine. And cool again.) We giggled uncontrollably at stupid jokes and old memories. We managed to avoid singing any old sorority songs (much to Brians' disappointment - ha!)  We also hosted a (well, what like to consider) fabulous BBQ  - a first for the new house - and Jen was thoughtful enough to not ruin my perfect party platter by snacking on a few tidbits before the guests arrived. She knows me well enough that she wouldn't dare steal pita chips from the actual platter, but instead, helped herself to some from the bag. (yes, I really am that much fun to hang out with.)

I even forced Jen to watch some of my reality TV fluff. She had, inexplicably, never seen a single episode of 'The Bachelorette' or 'The Bachelor.' (she refers to USWeekly as a 'smut magazine,' which baffles me.) So Brian and I (mostly me) tried to explain to her how the show works - roses are handed out to the guy/girls that person likes, other people are sent home, there is a lot of hot tub action and public making out. Poor Jen looked unbelievably confused. And as a reality show virgin, she was clearly not used to the awkwardness of some of the more 'real' moments on the show (read: Craig R's date with Ali) and was practically crawling off the couch in pure horror. "How can you guys watch this?" she wanted to know. Brian, of course, agreed with her (he ates 'The Bachelorette') but I was like, "What? You're not used to watching people air their dirty laundry on national television?" It did make me stop and think, though, about how far TV has come (gone?) in recent years.

The days just flew by, and it was so nice to have such a fun person to chat with. It made me think - maybe polygamy isn't such a bad idea? I mean, there we were: two babies, one in utero, happily playing with the kids, bathing them, feeding them, taking them out for ice cream (ours, not theirs.) This whole sister-wife thing is kind of a good idea. Jen washed the bottles while I wrote out the bills. There was always someone there to watch the kids while one of us took a phone call or checked our email. Aside from sharing one's husband, I think sister-wives are a marvelous idea. Sign me up. Because it means less chores and more conversation.

I'm not going to say much about Rowan's trip to Vegas (he did come out there for his birthday, after all), but he will have his own blog entry. Complete with pictures. Here's just a idea of what's in store:
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What happens in Vegas...

(Thanks, Jenna and Rowan! Come out any time!! We love you!!)

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Procrastination

5/26/2010

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I dont' want to pack anymore.

Hmph.

::crossing arms and pouting::

So mature, right? I am just tired of it. The movers are scheduled, I convinced Brian to take a day off of work (he still has a conference call in the morning, but I consider this a success of epic proportions), and the house is slowly being packed away. So, there has been great progress. But I feel (probably like you do) that this has been draggggginnnggg on for months. And I just need a break.

So I'm taking one.

Overall, I wouldn't consider myself a huge procrastinator. I've certainly gotten better since my college days, where you would likely find me burning the midnight hour in order to cram for a test or finish a paper. But when you live with 45 other girls, it's sooo easy to procrastinate. I think my friend Liz and I even turned it into an art form. We would just wander from room to room, seeing who was busy or who else we could lure into our web of laziness. We played with candles a lot. (lots of melted wax on the carpet...) We laid around a lot. We spied on the fraternity that lived behind us.  I pulled weeds in our garden while Liz sat there and kept me company.  We watched many movies. And then, in probably the most grand of all procrastination activities, we convinced the rest of the sorority to play Sardines in the Science Center at 10pm. (I think Krista might have been in on this one, too). Sardines, for those of you who don't know, is the opposite of 'Hide and Seek;" one person hides, and the rest of the group has to find them. Except when you find them, you join them in their hiding spot. The last person to find everyone loses, and has to be the next 'Sardine'. (and if you hide in a small spot - or have a game involving 30+ college women - things can get a bit cramped.)

Ahh, good times.

I don't have anyone to play Sardines with out here. I can't even play with candle wax since I don't want to get it on my floor. So, I'm left to blogging, planning Tiffany's bachelorette party (next weekend!), and coming up creative ideas for baby food. Oh yeah, I should probably pack a box or two.

Hmph. Stupid boxes.

Anyways, I'm kind of proud of my latest baby food creation. We have officially started meats, and last week, I gave Scotty some cooked chicken thighs. The little tyke ate them, but blech. Maybe this is what accounted for his food strike? I could barely spoon the pureed mixture into his mouth since it looked like and smelled like Emma's food. Gross.

So on Monday, I made the executive decision that my child was not going to consume foods that resemble cat food. So I purchase two lovely organic chicken breast (bone-in, skin still on) and set about roasting them in a little olive oil, kosher salt, and cracked black pepper. When they were done, I discarded the bones and skin and chopped the chicken into itty-bitty pieces. And tossed it with a little Greek yogurt and some organic tarragon and viola! Baby chicken salad. (I normally also add green grapes and celery, but thought they might be choking hazards.) So, I'm happy that Scotty will actually be eating something that looks appetizing AND is also chock full of protein.

Okay, I feel like I worked my procrastination out. I'm ready to go tackle another box. Wish me luck. And go play a game of Sardines if you get a chance -- it's really fun!
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Friday Musings (and no moment of Zen)

11/20/2009

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No pictures today...the battery of my camera died! I guess I've been snapping too many pics these days and it decided to go caput on me. It is currently on the charger and should be ready for tonight. We are going to a botanical cacti garden, decked out in 1/2 million Christmas light. If that didn't sound fun enough, it's right next to a chocolate factory! I'm not joking. Cacti, chocolate, and Christmas lights...does life get any better?

It's so funny to think that a year ago I would have never been interested in this kind of outing, especially on a Friday night. I've never been a huge chocolate fan, Christmas before Thanksgiving was just wrong in my book, and there is no way in hell I could have dragged Brian with me to a cacti garden. But now, with the little Bear in tow, we are both insanely excited. I can't wait to see Scotty's face when he sees all of the Christmas lights - it should be magical. And a good photo op! (c'mon, battery charger...) Brian is equally excited and we are both hoping the little Bear behaves himself. We'll do anything to see him smile.

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In other news, it seems like it is raining babies these days. Several college friends recently had kids this week (big congrats to Sarah and Little K!), so I've been glued to Facebook for updates. I know most sororities get a bad rap, but I really loved my experience. I also love how we've all re-connected via Facebook. Despite the over 10 year gap between living in the house and now, it's like no time has passed.

I also love how everyone from the house comments on each other's posts. There is no need for formalities -- it's just as conversational as if we were standing in line for dinner or walking to class together. But instead of trying to figure out why Charlene put bacon on the salad or sneaking out of dinner to watch 'The Simpsons' in the rec room, we're talking about labor, delivery, and breastfeeding. I still think of people as "the Seniors" and "the Sophomores" (which I guess makes me a Junior). Brian, of course, thinks I'm absolutely crazy but he just doesn't get it. He thinks all I did in college was host Rush parties and paint banners. He's only 50% correct. (and for the record, I graduated in four years with a double major AND I managed to study overseas. So there.)

With the recent boom of baby Gams, I would LOVE to host a reunion of everyone (not just my pledge class) and catch up with everyone. Kind of a pipe dream (especially as these babies keep coming! Do we all have fantastic husbands that would watch the kids while their wives left for the weekend? Is that too much to expect?)  but it's fun to think about.  So ladies, let me know what you think .Maybe Vegas in 2010? 2011?  Don't make me start singing...('A and an L and a PHA...G and an A and an MMA...") Several of us tried to get together earlier this year in Chicago but bed rest had me grounded and I had to cancel the whole trip. Such a bummer.

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Aside from missing my days at 1409 N. Main, everything else has been darn near copacetic. Scotty is over his fussiness (I had a three-day fear that maybe we started teething...eeeeeeek) from earlier this week and is back to napping like a champ. He is just so silly. He literally wakes up smiling. I peer into his crib in the morning and am greeted with this happy, sunny baby. How did we get so lucky? He is also coo-ing and goo-ing like a champ, which makes me think we're going to have a talker on our hands one day. As my mom once told me, "You can't wait for the day that they start talking...and then you realize that they never shut up." Hahaha. Sorry, Mom.

Contrary to popular belief, I will not be going to see the new 'Twilight' movie this weekend. I have a fairly substantial fear of tweens. Not to mention, it looks downright terrible. Let's be honest here folks; Stephanie Meyer isn't exactly Shakespear. But the books were a good read (I devoured all four in about three days) and I just can't believe what a part of pop culture they have become. I caught an interview with the cast members on some obscure DirectTV channel and had a hard time keeping a straight face. The interviewer was acting as if Rob P and Kristen S were master thespians and the material they were working from was groundbreaking. "Tell me Kristen, as you were in the scene when Edward leaves, what emotion did you draw from in order to make it so realistic?" Um.....yeah. She had a hard time keeping a straight face, too. The two look like they mope throughout the whole movie and critics have confirmed the whole move is pretty emo. But Edward Cullen (the idea of him, not Rob P) is one of the most memorable fictional characters of recent years, in my opinion, and yes, I will probably cough up $7.75 at some point to see the film. Matinee-worthy, however. Definitely not Friday-night-worthy.

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That's about it here. I'm off to clean out our sock drawer (I'm so not kidding...really, the fun never stops here.) I hope everyone has a great weekend!
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Review #3: "Pretty in Plaid" by Jen Lancaster

6/19/2009

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Oh, Jen Lancaster. You crazy, ex-sorority girl with a penchant for pearls and unending narcissism. How I love thee.

However, I may not be the best person to review Ms. Lancaster's fourth memoir. Not because I'm not a fan - HUGE fan, even joined the fan club via Facebook - but because there are days I have to ask myself if I AM Jen Lancaster.

I was introduced to her books by an email from my friend Liz (yup, same one - mom to Wes) last summer. She first asked me if I had read any books by Jen Lancaster, and when I didn't reply, she sent this:

"Also you never answered my question about Jen Lancaster. Have you read her books? It is really important that you answer. If the answer is no I am sending them to you when I am done. You have to read them because I think they are written by you. Is your pen name Jen Lancaster?"

Concerned I may have a writing doppleganger, I set off to buy these books as soon as possible. Even my attempt to pick up her material was Jen Lancaster-esque (although I didn't know it at the time).

With gas prices soaring over $5/gallon at this time, I maximized my errands and swing by the book store prior to my yearly eye doctor appointment. I grabbed all three of her books - "Bitter is the New Black," "Bright Lights, Big Ass," and the newly published "Such a Pretty Fat." With some extra time on my hands, I decided to grab a quick lunch at one of our favorite microbreweries that just so happened to be very close to my doctor's office. I'd only been there on Friday and Saturday nights, and the place was always packed with annoying Summerlin teenagers and their oblivious, shiny-SUV driving parents. I hated the place on principle, but secretly loved the food. With only a few cars in the parking lot, it seemed like a best case scenario: a quiet Thursday lunch minus the texting brats, high school drama and completely uninvolved parents.

Not wanting to take up an entire table myself, I slid quietly into the bar area and ordered my favorite salad. The bartender asked if I wanted anything to drink; hmm, good question. It was my day off, it was a lovely summer day in Vegas, and I was not pregnant (oh, those were the days...) Spur of the moment, I pointed to my favorite microbrew and settled in with 'Bitter.'

Forty-five minutes, one turkey salad, and two Brewhouse Blondes later, I couldn't contain my giggles. Jen Lancaster was really funny! The book was excellent and she did sound a little like me. She was overdramatic, let any level of power go to her head, and took loving care of her delicate blond highlights. This woman could be my sister. I was able to finally put the book down, collect my belongings (begrudgingly) and head to my appointment. 

It didn't hit me until I was in front of the puff-of-air test that my head was slightly spinning. I was starting to feel as little...tipsy. My only job at hand was TO FOCUS and I had done the one thing that preventing me from doing that.

What the hell was I thinking -drinking before a doctor's appointment? I tried to focus on the "lens one? lens two?" test by blinking furiously and asking for copious amounts of water.  I prayed no one could smell my breath. Considering the circumstances, I looked ripe for an intervention.

I think I passed all of the tests (and managed to score some free saline solution), but I definitely finding a new eye doctor this year.

So, onto 'Pretty in Plaid." Ms. Lancaster kicks it old school by reliving childhood memories based on specific items of clothing apparel. You watch as she goes from an over-aggressive Girl Scout to an awkward seventh-grader who was bullied to a size-5 Jordache-wearing high school junior whose hair was as big as her ego. She recounts pivotal moments of her development through fashion, ultimately leading up to the pride-comes-before-the-fall person we meet in 'Bitter is the New Black."

The book starts slowly. Reading about her Girl Scout exploits made me fear she may be several pages away from going all James Frey on us. (careful! Careful!) She regains her commanding voice during the high school, but the best part is by far - by far - her description of sorority rush.

This is where I fear my critical edge fails me. Jen is from the Midwest, lived in Indiana, went to a college in Indiana, loves cats, was in a sorority, and also eventually wound up as Rush Chairman. Go ahead and replace 'Jen' with 'Kim' in that sentence. And those are just demographics.  (just to avoid confusion: I went to undergrad in Illinois and graduate school in Indiana).

Her over-the-top bossiness, hyper-competitiveness, and need to have things perfect made me blush; during my time as Rush chair, I literally lived and breathed Rush. Hell, even before Rush, I took my sorority vows seriously. My feelings about other sororities rivaled that of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.  During Rush, however, it reached new levels.  I spent hours pouring over Rush flow-charts and planning the perfect parties. I yelled at members who failed to look enthusiastic during Rush practice. I snapped when strawberries were not set at 4:00 on the lip of champagne glasses.  My parents worried that all of my involvement was interfering with my school work, but I was quick to soothe them with 'I'm learning about the real-world application of leadership skills!' Funny how nothing in the field of psychology has ever required me to paint a banner or sing while clapping.

And you know what? I'm glad I did it. The hard work paid off. (kudos to my co-Rush, Liz, as well before she sends me an email asking why I didn't mention her).  We were rewarded with the best pledge class on campus that year. Even now, much to my husband's chagrin, I will occasionally refer to that part of my life as 'The Golden Years of Alpha Gamma Delta' and extol the power and progressiveness of the Cooper Administration. Suck on that, Kappas.

Ahem...back to Jen. After college, we read as she buys her first business suit and ultimately, her first 'status' hand bag.  Her Vegas vacation literally had me rolling off of all twelve of my body pillows and gasping for air. I read parts out loud to my husband, who also cracked up (and he's a pretty tough critic). I don't want to ruin anything for you, but the phrase, "When did I eat corn?" will get stuck in your head, making you smirk/giggle at the most inappropriate times.

My only criticism for Ms. Lancaster?  The epilogue scared me a little. Jen is starting to dance on that 'Look, I'm normal but I'm famous!' edge, and I'd hate for her to fall into the pit of celebrity-dom. Her greatest quality is her likableness and ability to relate to her reader. I, obviously, over-identify. However, you can tell she is proud of her writing and most recent status on The New York Times' Best Seller list...a huge accomplishment no doubt, but we, as readers, don't want to hear about it. I think the hardest thing about being famous/talented is constantly having to downplay the fame and talent, lest you become incredibly unlikable. (also see: "Gosselin, Kate" and "Boyle, Susan.") So Jen...love ya, but hold it in. Call your mom and brag. Don't put it in the epilogue.

Overall: great summer read. Definitely worthy of some pool time and a fruity drink.

Grade: A-.


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