Crazy

So I paraded Makena through my husband's office a few weeks ago and before I packed her into her car seat for the half-hour drive, I seriously reviewed her "presentation" outfit -- knowing full well that a "Mr. Somebody" who worked there would not let my fashion choices pass without comment. I wasn't in the office five minutes and he walked up to me, cooed appropriately over Makena, approved of her T-shirt -- but poopooed the pants. Then finally turned to me and gave me the once-over and told me how great it was that I was finally going to get to "lose" the baby weight!!! Of course, he said it right in front of my husband who guffawed with laughter (as did I). The best comeback I could think of on the spur of the moment was, "You bitch!" That man-diva stole my joke!

It's one thing to be self-deprecating and tell people that I'm finally going to lose the baby weight. It's another thing to hear it coming out of Mr. Fashion police's mouth! I told him right away that I was going to blog about this and then he told me that he would sue me. So I waited a couple of weeks 'cause I don't think he follows the blog anymore.

In any event, I have made some changes to my eating habits. I try very hard not to finish Makena's food because I got into trouble doing that when Jack was a baby. You'd be surprised how fast a chicken nugget here and there, a spoonful of maccaroni or half a bowl of congee can add up to on any given day. I'd much rather save the calories for my glass of Chardonnay. I mentioned this to a friend of mine who has more than two children and she laughed. She told me that Chardonnay doesn't cut it for her anymore and that she's graduated to single-serving Margharita bottles from Costco (they come 24 to a box, I believe) and that she sneaks one into the theater whenever she takes her kids to see a movie. She drinks it, chews red vines, and tries to stay sane... Crazy.

In the meantime, my husband expressed mild concern that I haven't done a single thing to prepare for Makena's first birthday on October 28. I was stunned. Of course, he was right. And so this week I've been scrambling to pick a date. I was going to do it on the 28th but one of my close friends asked me not to because she's celebrating her son's fourth birthday on that date (his birthday was in September) and she's hired an elephant to be the entertainment for the party. And we're not talking unemployed actor making an extra buck by wearing a mangy suit, here, we're talking full blown, full grown, pachiderm! Okay, who can compete with that?

Whatever the case, I've decided on doing it on the 22nd. I was going to do it on the 21st - which coincided with the fifteenth anniversary of my mom's passing -- as a way of including her "spiritually" on this occasion, but two friends of ours beat me to the punch. One, with a mega blow-out haunted-Halloween-kid-party in the afternoon and the other, with a fiftieth birthday bash celebration at night. Crazy.

Now, I've tried to send an evite with Mak's picture on it, but the file was too large and wouldn't upload, so I'm going to resort to an e-mail, the way I did with Jack after I came back from Guatemala. And the theme will be "Mexican" because it's a good excuse to go to Costco and check out that case of Margharitas my girlfriend's so fond of. And besides, everyone knows that a baby's first birthday isn't about the baby, but about the parents -- or more particularly, me.

That's it. I've got a birthday to plan.


Is-a-crazy

PS My new joke when someone congratulates me about Makena is: "I love it, no stretch marks!" (At least, no new ones.)

PPS I just realized I'm friends with someone who is turning fifty.

PPPS Jack is fine, except he's bummed the Dodgers didn't win the Playoffs.