Safe Landings

I spent yesterday having a cooking frenzy. I don’t know what got into to me, but I must have been channeling 50s housewife again. The hubby was due to return from his trip, so I spent the day in the kitchen whipping up a feast. And that is just so not me. An oven roast with figs, onion and balsamic with skins-on hand-smashed potatoes and haricot verts in bacon, lemon and shallots. Wow. I was so proud of myself. We ate and waited for him to arrive. And then he didn’t.

The phone rang at close to time for him to arrive. “Uh. Yea. Well I’m in Phoenix again.” “What? Why?” It seems that the plane took off on schedule. And while the flight attendant was giving her peppy little please-stay-seated-until-we-reach- cruising-altitude speech there was a loud bang. Immediately, the pilot interrupted and said, “We’re going to be heading back to the airport now.” The hubby had already felt the plane taking a sharp turn by this point. The peppy attendant comes back on minutes later to announce, “The pilot has informed me that there are emergency vehicles on the tarmac. Please do not be alarmed. This is standard procedure.” So the hubby white-knuckled back to the ground. Was safe. Called me. Got another flight. But was hours late. I’d rather have him home late than not home at all. (He took my beautiful dinner for lunch as leftovers instead. ☺)

The bean is a walking machine. 16 months old and she’s finally decided now is the time. The hubby was shocked to return after only 48 or so hours and see her teetering around the house like she just had one too many. I guess we should cut out the brandy in her morning milk now, huh…


Meanwhile, work has ramped up to an almost vertical angle. I’d be the one hanging on to the top of that ramp by my fingernails. I’ve gotten spoiled by the downtime and had started enjoying it a little too much. What with all those beautiful cakes and fancy dinners. I guess it’s back to take out and wine from a box. (Just kidding, mom.)

And since I can’t seem to stop myself from the potty talk, yes, the poop goes on. This time it was like the diaper magically turned inside out just after she loaded it up. I took off her pants and it smeared down her leg and onto her little foot. Gee-ross. So it was back to the tub, etc. And I was wearing high-heeled boots at time, having just returned from a work meeting. I wish there was video. It was a moment that clearly illustrated the dichotomy that is my life.

One thing I haven’t mentioned in a while is the fam goings ons. The parents are officially filed now (I think) and mom is waiting for her new place to be ready. I’ve been freaking out a little. But I think I’m over myself now. It’s just weird to think that they will be no more. I know they’ll be happier, but it’s still strange. Just like the fact that we had planned to go back for a long weekend for Miss 6’s 7th birthday, but realized…we now have no place to stay. Mom’s camping out at my aunt’s and staying with Poppy at the house-now-vacated would be like being a walk on in a David Lynch film. Of course we have many other friends and relatives there — but it’s hard to think about invading their homes with our crazy, active family of four. Life is certainly going to be different. Especially having a single mom who’s a hot little number. ☺ I can already see her starting to spread her wings though (wine from a bottle, experimenting with cooking, talking about travel) and that makes me happy for her.

Tonight it’s off to brave the snow for an Avs game in Denver. Our tickets are six rows from the ice and we’re going with TRPL TRBL and husbino, so it will be worth it. It’s been too long since we saw their ole mugs…

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Low. Flo Rida. For some inane reason this song has been parked at the top of charts on iTunes — sparking my curiosity. Now I know why: “…She hit the flo’ next thing I kno’ Shawty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low…” And doesn’t that just explain so much? ☺