Rick and I have been dealing with some major stress lately. Some things I can’t write about and some things I can. But I’m hoping that just maybe, just possibly we’ve hit rock bottom over here.
Now didn’t we elect Barack Obama President? I thought he was going to bring eternal peace and happiness to all mankind? I swear, I saw that in one of his ads.
Well, maybe once he’s inaugurated.
But there is always gratitude for what we have. And each night when I put Dylan and Summer to bed, I kiss their sweet cheeks and thank the twinkling stars that they were brought in our lives.
And the other night, I checked on them before I turned in and here is how I found Dylan:
Yup, that’s a hat and scarf combo, along with a pair of gloves, that she dug out of one of her drawers.
I promise she was just wearing pajamas when I said goodnight to her. I never once thought to bundle her up in outerwear. I totally have to start thinking outside the box.
Meanwhile, my father has been staying with us while Rick recovers from his surgery.
And my dad’s clothing choices are somewhat questionable. For example, on Friday night, we went out to dinner at a cool, fancy nancy restaurant in the meat packing district. And my dad wore a…
And the next day, I took my dad and the girls to the World Financial Center where there is lots of room to run around, art exhibits and places to eat. And apparently….
tracksuits work there too.
On Sunday, I was almost disappointed when he opted for cords.
My 65-year-old dad happens to be single so if you know any lovely ladies who have a things for men in tracksuits, he might just be their prince.
Dylan and Summer are having a wonderful time with my dad. And Rick is recovering slowly but surely. Frankly, I think he’s just relieved that I’m no longer following him around with a camera.
And you’ll be so proud of me. I didn’t eat a single candied nut over the weekend. Mostly because we don’t have any of those sinister Nuts 4 Nuts carts in my neighborhood. But still. Gotta give a girl some credit for not taking an ill fated subway ride uptown.
mama bird notes:
Jen P. is the winner of the Cirque du Soleil tickets! I really was impressed by the wide breath of aerobatic skills from all of you. And I am now wracking my brain to figure out how to take all that talent and turn it into a money making opportunity. You know, some kind of Cirque du Soleil knock-off blog troop.
To enter, just leave a comment on the mama bird diaries this week and tell me what you imagine is the best perk about being a Rockette. Just FYI… Rockettes must be between 5’6″ and 5’10”, proficient in tap, jazz, ballet and modern dance AND display a radiant energy on stage. Wow. That sounds exhausting. Especially for a 5’4″ chick like myself.