Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Life Advice

I am going to administer some life advice today because I know you're all like "EXCUSE ME LIFE ADVICE WHAT?" as I have done nothing over the last several days but make it abundantly clear that I am a mess.

Yes, I am a pathetic creature. You don't need to tell me. I can barely look in a mirror. But I do know something.

Hear me out.

I want to talk about pie crusts.

You should always have one in your freezer, my friends.

Because there is always a dinner where you could bring the dessert. If you have the pie crust and some berries in your freezer and a scoop of sugar and a little bit of cornstarch on hand, you're basically a hero with approximately four minutes of hands-on time.

Or, if there is someone special who you want to bring dinner (and, as the hapless old maid of the group, I'm talking more about my grandma or my best friend because, well, you know) but you have nothing in your house but you have a pie crust and all is not lost. Because you probably have eggs and some cheese and a random vegetable or two.

Quiche. Hello, quiche.

I realized this morning that Lucy, Chet and the boys were on their way home from vacation and a nice auntie would leave them something in the refrigerator but I didn't have time to grocery shop and cook something.

I broke out my emergency freezer pie crust and some eggs and the Pioneer Woman recipe (loosely followed), and by the time I was done getting ready for work (and ordering blush from Sephora and enjoying a cup of coffee) I had a quiche.

Which is kind of a miracle considering the state of my refrigerator and also the state of my head.

Pie crusts, boys and girls.    

Monday, April 21, 2014

The Week That Was


It was setting up to be the perfect week.

On Monday night, I gave my first presentation to City Council and, according to those who know about these things, I killed it. As soon as I was done with Council, I met up with my real estate agent and signed an offer on a home.

As I was walking in to see my agent, Lucy sent me a text message: they had two offers on their house, which hadn't been on the market a week, at their asking price. She was giddy.

And The Coach had a job interview lined up.

There was so much possibility in the air. I wrote about it.

On Tuesday night, the timing worked out and I got to see The Coach for a few hours. He was stressed about his interview, expecting that he would get an offer, unsure about what he would do, but the time we spent together was effortless. Easy. I see him and it's like we've never been apart. When I'm with him, it's infuriatingly simple.

Wednesday came with the delivery of our Derby tickets. We were sent four tickets, rather than the two that we ordered. Lucy and I lost our mind at this turn of events: we can sell the extra tickets and cover the cost our own, making our trip significantly less fiscally irresponsible than we previously assumed that it would be. The Coach's interview was Wednesday: he said that it went well and he made a few complimentary remarks about the program. It made me think that taking job wasn't the longshot that he'd made it seem.

He was offered the job on Thursday. He seemed tortured about the decision. Sick about making the choice. I should have known then.

I got the house on Thursday.

Everything was happening.

Everything was going to work out. It was going to be that week where all of the pieces came together.

Except that it wasn't. He told me on Friday that he wasn't taking the job. He turned it down on Saturday.

Maybe the pieces did come together last week. Maybe this was everything working out as it should. Maybe this was my fresh start, my new house, my new life. My Derby tickets and my forward motion.

Away from The Coach, it would seem.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Real life ending


What happened is that The Coach interviewed for a job here and then he got the job here and then he turned it down.

It wasn't the right fit.

I trust his judgment and I am confused and I am not an expert in his field and I question his priorities and I always knew this one was a long shot and I wanted it too much and I am so sad.

And I am turning off comments because I know, you guys. I know. 

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Hollywood ending

It all came together too perfectly this week. I'll backtrack, later, and tell you all about how the goodness piled up and how that got me hopeful and stupid.

Hopeful and stupid is a bad combination.

I thought for a minute that maybe everything was going to work out this time. Not just some of it but all of it. Everything was going to come together at once and this was the week that I was going to always, always remember.

This week will probably still be a week that I always remember. Just not entirely for the reasons that I want.

I don't know what else I expected.

I know better.

Hollywood endings aren't real.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Return of the Derby Girls

I've mentioned that Lucy and I are making our grand return to the Kentucky Derby in a few weeks, right? Because we are. And I am so excited.

I booked us rooms shortly after the Derby last year, just in case. And then we abandoned the idea and thought we would go to the Belmont -- the third leg in the triple-crown series -- instead. I wasn't crazy about traveling to New York so close to when I was leaving for Brazil but Chet wanted to join us (and bring the babies along, too, though they wouldn't go with us to the races) and that seemed like a fair compromise.

But I didn't cancel our hotel reservations.

Then, a couple of months ago, Lucy and Chet took the babies on a short weekend trip. Chet was exposed to the challenges of travelling with the babies and suddenly he thought that maybe it would be better if we put off the Belmont for another year and Lucy and I just made the shorter drive to Kentucky, alone, instead.

What a guy.

In a matter of 10 hours after Chet made the suggestion, Lucy and I had it all figured out: we had dinner reservations and giddy plans to make up for the drinking that we didn't partake in last year (when Lucy was pregnant with Baby L and I was sober in solidarity) and return to that one amazing coffee shop and eat another sinfully delicious apple fritter and win, like, a lot of money. All while wearing the hats that we already had made.

Yes, you read that correctly. Because we are insane and also obsessive, Lucy and I made our hats last summer.

Gear up for the return of the Derby fashion post, dear friends. We have dresses to buy and accessories to coordinate! 

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Maybe it's The Week

If Sunday and Monday are any indication, this is The Week When Things Happen.

Since the beginning of the year, I've been juggling. Since January, my life has felt like a failing attempt to keep track of too many moving pieces: at work, for my soccer team, my hockey schedule, planning for trips to Brazil and the Kentucky Derby, a board appointment, house hunting, The Coach's game schedule, holidays, everything. Nothing is settled. I am tired.

But if Sunday and Monday are any indication, this is The Week When Things Happen.

It is about damn time.

I am ready to lock in a few pieces, to know what to expect moving forward, to expel less energy guiding along all of these responsibilities that seem to need constant attention. I want to be done with something. I want to scratch it off of my list and declare it complete and feel accomplished, even if that feeling only lasts a day.

Maybe this is the week. It feels like it.

Cross your fingers, guys.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Happy, happy, happy

I knew that Friday morning would be a rough morning at work.

When Lucy invited me to join her and the boys at the park, I jumped on it.

Mother Nature must have known that I had suffered through a challenging week, because she sent out perfect weather. And the boys must have known that Auntie was in need of a pick-me-up, because they were extra sweet.


I assisted Baby A as he jumped from rock to rock.


And pushed swings.


And rode down the slide. (At least 20 times.)

And otherwise probably was a little too physically active for the afternoon before a half marathon.

The half marathon which, I should mention, I managed to slog through somewhat successfully. My run mirrored my training -- I never made the time for a training run of over 8 or 9 miles and it showed: I tanked right around mile 8 and really suffered through the remainder of the race. I finished in 1:55, which wasn't my best and wasn't my worst.  

Surely my lack of training is more to blame, but I wouldn't have traded one trip down the slide with Baby A for shaving even a single second off of my time.
 
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