Mike (brave, gallbladder-less superdad that he is) took the littles to Canada on Saturday and won’t be back until tomorrow night. The first day I completely scheduled the ish outta myself. Had a bra fitting on the upper east, followed by a mani pedi in the west village, walked over to my mom’s, went up to JCP in Herald Square to return a few things I had bought online, got a haircut on the lower east side (we’ll get back to that) followed by dinner with Sandra in the East Village.
So yeah, this haircut was going along great until she got to my bangs and now I look like friggin’ YoLandi Vi$$er
Okay- well – not quite that severe – but “baby bangs” are one of my least favorite hair attributes so… they are clipped up right now. Time marches on.
Sunday my mom and I walked for hours, finally ending up at – where else- Loehmann’s. After thee Shop of Ages, we feasted mightily at Corsino on Hudson St. while a few tables away Phillip Seymour Hoffmann, his wife and three kids, all enjoyed bowls of ice cream. How cute is that – all ordering the same dessert? I tell ya!
Graham turns ONE in less than a month! Time has sorta flown? (not really. People with babies rarely want to admit to other people that might be *considering* babies, that time becomes painfully slow) Still though, we look forward to letting Grammers go to town on his first piece of cake. I know some people plan really cute, thoughtful, Etsy-encrusted birthday parties for their one year olds but Mike and I still don’t know any kids/parents so it seems ridiculous. Not to poop all over someone’s desire to make occasions “special” but honestly, decorations end up in the trash, the staged photographs end up in the album with all the rest, looked at once or twice a year…as we collectively trod our path to the grave. Hey now!!
What to get him? Are there any medications, perhaps in Mexico or South America, that you can give to babies to make them sleep through the night? How about vitamin-enriched toilet paper? He just looovvves toilet paper.
Virginia’s birthday follows a month later and she has given us clear guidelines on what she expects. A kite. A red wagon. Thankfully, I fully support both those things and thus, she will be happy. She has also described her cake to me, “A princess…with a brown face.” Nefertiti meets Cinderella is what I’m thinking…