Monday, August 31, 2009

My own Maria

You think you got the best of me, August?
With that burn incident? And the flat tire? And the second round of layoffs? And the house-hunting? And the heat? And all those late-night assignments? And when my baby fell off the playground ladder?

Well think again.

Because every time I wanted to cry this month - and trust me, there were lots - I thought about this and went straight to my newfound happy place.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Mama loves Nortec

Last night I worked at Street Scene, a big musical festival in downtown.
I was really excited to see Nortec, a group of guys from Tijuana who mix the city's regional music with electronica. There's no other music that captures the feeling of growing up in a border town. Not even The Smiths.

It reminded me of all those weekends in Tijuana I would spend at my cousin Jacky's house and we'd drive around (or get driven around, to be more accurate). Outside we'd hear Norteno music with all its accordion-filled glory playing at the pharmacy. In our car we were listening to Depeche Mode. And somehow Nortec mashes those two sounds together, those two cultures together.

Last night's performance was definitely a highlight of the festival, and maybe even the year.



So in honor of the show and all the great old feelings it brought up, I decided to make tonight's dance party (with an extra preschool pal) a Nortec one.

It looks like the music speaks to this group of border kids, too.



(In case you want to hear it, this is the song that was making them run around like that:)

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The day I tried to cook

I saw a recipe in Real Simple the other day for roasted potatoes and steak. It looked easy enough. I recognized all the ingredients. Marina loves potatoes. It was perfect.

So there I am browning the meat on the stove and it's looking good. Then the directions said to finish cooking the meat in the oven. Easy. All right.

About 20 minutes later, a burning smell, a smell that's very familiar to me, invaded the kitchen. The potatoes were toast. But the meat was ready and it looked good. Also, the girls were fighting over plastic horses.

After trying to save the potatoes and evenly distributing horses, I went back to cut the meat. Only. I forgot the pan had been in the oven. I grabbed it. I held it for a good 8 seconds before I realized my flesh was being charred.

I screamed, ran it under water, grabbed a frozen bag of corn and went along with my business. But it wasn't getting better, so I went to Windmill Farms for some homeopathic relief.

The dude at the store looked at my hand and basically said get the hell out of there and go to the doctor.

I only try to cook once every few months and what happens to me? I get second degree burns. My hand was wrapped in gauze with an Ace bandage on top of that. It looked very much like a big mitt on my right hand. The same hand I use to type. And take notes. And get dressed. And change diapers.

I went in to work for a few hours but I was totally useless. Matt was with the girls and I would be totally useless to them, too.

So you know what I did? I went to the movies. I went and I watched the Julia Child movie and waited and waited for her to have some sort of kitchen accident and she did not.

And the lesson I took from all this was that I need to look into French cooking.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Cocktail hour

Last night we went to dinner at a friend's house and Ella had some "stomach trouble" - the kind that requires prunes.

My friend asked if she could make Ella a prune cocktail?

The other preschoolers at the table thought the word cocktail was pretty amazing. So immediately Marina and her friend, Asher, began asking about cocktails.

"Why is Ella getting a cocktail?"
"Can I have a cocktail?"
"Cocktail! Cocktail! Cocktail!"

All of a sudden my friend presented the kids with three glasses of water. The water had grapes and pieces of prune swimming around at the bottom, AND, they were served in cute cocktail glasses.
As if nothing, the three kids picked up their cocktails and sat around the table drinking, like little grown ups.

So now my kids love cocktails.

But wouldn't toddler cocktails be the greatest business idea, you guys?

Example:
Trouble sleeping? Belly up to the bar and try a chamomile cocktail!
Upset stomach? Here's the mint cocktail!

I'm totally down to open this up if anyone out there wants to send me some start-up cash.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Changes

So we're moving. Really soon, too.

Because of the furloughs at work, we couldn't really afford our house anymore. Well, we could afford it. We just couldn't buy the kids new clothes or shoes or fun dinners at Blind Lady without having a major panic attack about it.

Our new house is about a mile from where we are now and it's almost the same, except for more compact.

Change is happening at work too.

They're moving the remaining features writers into the main part of the newsroom. That means I'll be closer to Matt. I can't decide if that's weird or cool.

Also, Marina and Ella will be in new classes. And for the first time since we started going to this school, I will not have to get out of my car to pick them up!

While I get an extra 10 minutes of Steve Inskeep, the girls will be delivered to my car like a drive-through, yipee!

So we're all starting fresh and how appropriate that it falls right around the Jewish New Year.

See, I am a good Jewish girl.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

No smile day

Because they laid off lots more people at work today and it was, once again, super sucky in there, I thought I would just post some non-smiley photos that still seem to make me happy.

Like Marina and Matt acting all hipstery during the swan boat ride in Boston.



And Ella so exhausted and jet-lagged, yet still making the half-hearted effort to sit on the duckling statue.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Ella's terrible, no-good day

If Ella was a grown up, yesterday would have been one of those days where she'd be all, "I need a drink."

It started off at school.
Ella is allergic to peanut butter, but has sunflower seed butter in her class to eat on the days they serve peanut butter snacks.

Yesterday she got a little impatient, took some kid's peanut butter cracker and BAM! Rash.

Later, I took the girls to the pool and in ten minutes, Ella hit her head on the edge of the pool. (No tears.) Then she got her head stuck in a chair and hit her chin. (Lots of tears.)

But then came the most horrible thing I have ever seen.

Ella wanted to slide and climbed up a very tall ladder. I wasn't standing right behind her and all of a sudden I see my baby fall from four very, very high rungs.

I saw her fall. In slow motion. Just suspended in mid-air. And then land on her back on a pile of sand.

Silence.

After a huge panic attack (by me) and screaming (by her) she is fine. Instead of asking for a glass of vodka, she requested her "paci."
Yes, she still uses a pacifier. Shoot me.

Can you imagine all that happening to you in a day?

I need a drink.

Monday, August 3, 2009

My silence, explained

Why I have not blogged:

1. I'm still doing laundry from the Boston trip.

2. I write for the Business section now and my brain power is exhausted at the end of the day.

3. I am always on Craigslist looking for the perfect new house.

4. Any free time is spent at 3-year-old birthday parties.

5. I am getting ready for one of three music festivals.

6. My entire family is here to celebrate my grandfather's 90th birthday.

7. I am still not recovered from Comic-Con

8. Or that night Angela and I made our triumphant return to Pac Shores.

9. I am indulging in the "emphasis in creative writing" side of my English studies.

10. July was hard.