Why I Hate Shopping

I was all set to do my part for my country and shop 'til I dropped this weekend. No, we weren't going to solve the economy's problems all by ourselves, my sister and I, but we'd drop a few bucks here and there.

First store: way too young for us. OMG, we're so old!

Second store: Payless. Oooh, shoes! We both managed to find pairs we wanted, all the while not remembering what it is that we needed. You know how it is: you're getting dressed, and you don't have the right pair of shoes to go with the outfit. But when you're standing in front of that wall of shoes, it's just all too overwhelming. You can't remember what it is you actually needed! But I found yet another pair of black shoes that I liked. Only the 7s were too big. The 6s too small. The 6 1/2 may have been just right...if only they had them in stock. What to do: go with the pair that feel like they might fall off at any moment, or go with the pair that are snug and will cause pain after an 8-hour day? Yes, I went with the painful pair. I keep hoping, with shoes like that, that there will be some evening event where I can wear them for just a couple of hours to break them in. All the while forgetting that I have no life. At $10, though, how big of a mistake can it really be?

Third store: we were most excited about checking out Steve & Berry's, and specifically, Sarah Jessica Parker's new line. Everything in the store was $8.98. Awesome! Only problem: finding things that we actually liked and that actually fit.

I tried on a pair of size 8 pants. They're too big - always nice. I try on the size 6. While they fit right on the hips, the waist is way too big, and I just don't want to be one of those women that's showing off her panties while sitting...especially at work. So I either need to gain weight to fit into them properly or lose weight to fit into a 4. (And isn't the waist supposed to be smaller than the hips?) Since neither option is appealing, I didn't buy the pants.

Then the shirts. The Mediums were just way too big. The Smalls were just way too small. Really? I don't have the right body type to just buy clothes? I managed to find a vest that fit okay. And that's it.

The good news: I didn't spend a lot of money. The bad news: I remembered why I hate shopping. I'll most likely not attempt that again for at least a year.

The highlight: margaritas at lunch, Starbucks on the way home. Those fit just fine!

Weekend Wrap-Up

I'm still struggling with the news about the condo, but I'm coping. To my credit, none of my tears have taken place in front of the girls, who remain blissfully ignorant of the news. I'm in the process of getting advice from friends, co-workers, family, and my credit union next week, because frankly I'm not ready to give up on my home yet. I'll be the first to tell you that I feel like a three-year-old temper tantrum inside, stomping up and down while crying, "but it's mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!" I know I may have to accept defeat somewhere down the line. Just not yet. The mailers I'm getting for moving services aren't helping.

The visit with my sister did bring some respite from all of that. We got to meet their new parrot:



We're always happy to see the dogs, Colonel and Liberty:




And the cats. Roxie is the baby of the family - who doesn't like to pose much for pics! She was too busy trying to get lovins from everyone:



Edgar's the man of the house. Meaning, of course, that he lies around like this all day:




My good news for the week: the very cool Huckdoll honored me with this award:



Thanks, Huckdoll! Praise from the Huckster is praise indeed.

I pass it on to the fierce and fearlessly honest Immoral Matriarch.

Now for the bragging about the girls. Sylvia got straight As on her progress report card (how much does she rock?), and Riley scored 92 on her fluency test, blowing past the benchmark 78 wpm. (Yes, yes, I know, comprehension is way more important than speed, but still impressive.) Riley's also starting speech therapy. I'm glad she'll be able to say her name properly (her "r"s still sound like "w"s), but I'll miss how cute she sounds.

Hope everyone enjoys a little Irish spirit on St. Patty's Day!

Flashback Friday - Sisters

When Sylvia met her sister for the first time, she said, "she's so pretty." As much as they fight and drive each other crazy, they need each other as much as they need me.

We're going to spend the weekend with my own sister (not sure how much Blog Hoppin' I'll get to do), and I'm so looking forward to it!

As much as I hate shopping, I love shopping with her. Of course, there will be more talking going on than shopping, and that's how it should be! Her husband will watch the girls while we get our own "girl time."

My sister is 6 1/2 years older than me, so she was out on her own by the time I was in junior high. We weren't really that close when we were growing up because of the age difference. I, of course, was the bratty little sister who thought I should be able to do whatever she did, and she was mostly annoyed by me. I can't blame her.

When I was in 7th grade, a teacher asked me if I was an only child. I answered, "yes, but I have a sister." It made sense to me! She didn't live with us anymore, so in the every day life, I was an only child.

It wasn't until I was in high school that we started getting close. When I was 18, I lived with her and her family for a few months when I was doing a show at a Resort near her. I think that's probably what really cemented us into being the best of friends.

In some ways, we're polar opposites. She'd never have a blog...she wouldn't want to post things about her life in this type of environment. But she holds no judgment about me being the kind of person who does. She doesn't put her foot in her mouth nearly as much as I do!

But we're also a lot alike. At the last family event, we both said something to the kids in the exact same way at the exact same time, same inflection and everything! It was like in stereo. And then we looked at each other, and busted up laughing.

When I moved back to L.A., we got on the same phone plan so that we could talk to each other as much as we wanted whenever we wanted, and we take full advantage of that. We'll call each other about a funny bumper sticker, or because a celebrity we hate is on the cover of Entertainment Weekly (we trade giving each other subscriptions to it). Of course, we also call each other with the bad news, too.

We can laugh with each other like no one else. We make fun of ourselves and each other in a way we wouldn't really allow anyone else. And we say the hard truths when necessary, but we haven't really had an argument in probably a decade now. We've been through enough to know that nothing is worth the loss of each other, and we'll work through anything that we have to. We can spend hours talking politics or TV shows or hair. We're sisters. A relationship like no other.

Leave Silda Spitzer alone!

I know I already posted today, but this really bugs me. Why are we so quick to judge other women's actions? Particularly when she was not the one who did anything wrong!

She has a decision to make. A very difficult decision to make. A life-changing decision.

I've been through divorce. Prior to that, I left my husband and came back a few times. It's really, really hard.

What's to say that, had she not stood up with her husband today, there would've been a whole group of women, saying how dare she not stand by his side during this time?

And really, what business is it of ours? Not what he did, but how she handles it. Her business is her own.

I wouldn't be surprised, frankly, if a few months from now, there's a little blurb about her filing the petition for divorce (or, as the laws state here in CA, the dissolution). But, really, it's her decision to make.

And, let's not forget, the media loves to watch (or create) a good cat fight. They love to see us tear each other apart for working or not working, breastfeeding or bottle-feeding, voting for the female or the African-American...

I think it's important for us to use our voices, yes, and not be silenced. I think it's important for us to explore why we make the decisions we make. But I think we should be in a place by now where we can respect and learn from each other's different decisions rather than just make judgments on them.

And there's my two cents on the subject.

My Weakest Point

This whole condo thing is bringing to light my very weakest point - not being able to cope with not having control over the situation. I really, really hate that.

The thing is, there are no moves for me to make at this point in time. It probably went on the market just in the past couple of days, and given the market, it would be financially stupid to make an offer, even if I had the funds to do so. Make 'em wait, make 'em sweat. That's the smart move.

It's hard for me because I'm not good at waiting. I have very little patience (and all of it is currently being used being a mom right now), and I hate limbo. I want to know. I want it all sorted out. But this thing won't be sorted out for a few months, at least.

Yesterday's post was very maudlin, and full of self-pity, I realize. Part of it was also poking fun at myself, but it probably didn't come across that way.

I will get through this, I know. We will get through this. I'm not a big believer in "everything happens for a reason," but I know I can get through almost anything. My girls are healthy. And smart and funny and kind and loving.

But it still feels like I've been hit. I know as well as anyone that stuff happens to people all the time. I know that life is just a journey through problems and times of calm. I knew there'd be more problems ahead. It's my own fault for not seeing that our home could be vulnerable.

Thank you all for the advice and the support. It means a lot to me. I can't just brush away the dark cloud hanging over me right now, but maybe I can learn to live with it a little easier, and come out a more patient, less controlling person. To be continued...

No - this is the other shoe

It was less than a week ago that I wrote this post, regarding our current home. I've also previously written about wondering if/when the other shoe would drop. It has now landed.

I got a call a few hours ago from the property manager of our condo that the condo has been put up for sale by the owner. I have a lease, which will have to be assumed, through July 31, but chances are, we'll be moving that day.

I am so sad. And scared. And wondering if I was a Nazi in a previous life for all the bad karma I seem to be working off this lifetime.

If you read that previous post, then you know how much this place felt like a real home to us. It's sad enough to lose that. Then to add to it, the stress and anxiety of finding a new place to live, that's affordable, that's in the right area of town, that will hopefully mean Riley not having to change schools again, obviously that will not interfere with KIPP...And of course, I can't even start looking right now because it's too soon. I'm obligated to the lease as well.

Is it too much to ask just have things stay the same?!? In my case, apparently, yes.

Another LAUSD Rant

This article on parent-teacher conferences made me tense all over. What better way to deal with it than by posting a rant?

I wrote about Parent-Teacher Conference #1 with Riley's teacher here.

I'll try not to reiterate all the same points I made in that post, and in all my posts about why KIPP rocks, but rather focus on some of the massive generalizations made in this article.

And let me start by saying, I know I'm going to be guilty of generalizations as well, but since they apply to literally all of the LAUSD teachers that both of my daughters have had, I think that makes them pretty fair generalizations.

Okay, first off, which is it? Are parents not involved enough, or helicopter parents? Again, all I ever hear from LAUSD is how parents need to be more involved, and yet this article also complains of the parents who feel they are their children's best advocates. How about balancing out these generalizations of parents, and realizing that, while there are extreme cases on both ends, shouldn't we get the benefit of the doubt that most of us fall somewhere in the middle?!?

Next, please do not waste your funds or school funds on [expletive] mood music or scented candles. If you want to make sure I don't go off the deep end about how poorly my child is doing, then don't wait for a parent teacher conference to tell me. Call me, write me a note, an email. Let me know my child is in trouble as soon as possible. Parent teacher conferences should not be a place for major surprises.

To the teacher who was surprised that positive reinforcement actually works, please find another profession.

Quoting a teacher in the article: "It never ceases to amaze me how some parents want to tell teachers what they don't think they should be doing, what they should be doing, what should not be included in the course, what the grading scale should be -- basically how we should do our jobs." (Someone sounds defensive!)

It never ceases to amaze me how many teachers and other LAUSD staff assume that they know everything about our home lives based on assumptions they've made. "Oh, she's a single parent." It never ceases to amaze me how our level of involvement is based on how many chocolates we sell for the fundraiser, or how many times we can show up to assist in the classroom. This is Los Angeles, people! We all need to work to afford our housing!

Recently, I was talking to the lawyers here about the spelling tests my 2nd grader takes. The claim is, they're teaching phonetics. Yet, only about 3 out of the 10 words have the same phonetic sound. If you're going to teach phonetically, do I really need a teaching degree to figure out that maybe all of the spelling words should contain the same phonetic sound, but with all of the different spellings?

I used to drive myself crazy, wondering if I was actually the crazy one by not buying into all the whining (in various forms) that I've seen over and over from people representing LAUSD. KIPP LA Prep has proven to me that I am not the problem. No amount of coddling by the L.A. Times is going to convince me otherwise.