See Ya!

Hi.

Can I share a secret? I haven’t spent a night away from Ruth. Until this past weekend, that is. It’s hard to wrap my mind around that fact. What exactly have I been doing for 18 months? I mean, I know there’s been a break between Project Runway seasons, that would’ve been the perfect time. As soon as Heidi said, I’m sorry… you’re out, I should’ve taken her seriously and walked straight to the nearest hotel.

But we all have our own timelines and this is how mine finally shook down.

We didn’t go anywhere exotic. It was probably the most hum-drum “vacation” I’ve ever taken. No trekking around with strangers we’d just met to search for The Soul of The World. 

No walking around naked in a Korean Spa.

No backpacking what seemed like 3 billion miles amongst bison.

No. This was decidedly more low-key.

Ruth knew something was up when I actually put on slacks and make-up. She was more hands-on, literally. Wherever I was standing or sitting, she always had one hand on my leg.
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But when my in-laws arrived and she came down the stairs to see them, all the uneasiness about my eyeliner & mascara disappeared. We ate dinner together and then packed up the car. As we left, she was held by her jama in the doorway as we gave her kisses and waved goodbye to us with not even a whimper.

Uh, alright…. SEE YA!!!!!!!

And off we went… to a town 30 minutes away.

Yeah, 30 minutes. Can someone say E-X-O-T-I-C?

Here’s the deal. It had to do with selfishness and being a cheap skate. I wanted to spend plane ticket money or gas money on us. In a spa. With no hiking or Korean ladies staring at my birthing hips or bison poop.

But you know what we did first? We went shopping at Target’s $1 bins like it was a duty free shop on a cruise. We stocked up on 75% St Patty’s day junk. YES.

And when we checked into the hotel, I rolled around in all of that target loot on the bed. It was literally a scene from Indecent Proposal. Fricken sexy.

Indecent-Proposal-hollywood-call-girls-2709355-852-480

See for yourself:
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Settle down, boys.

We checked into the room and decided to have a second dinner, just because we could. Wrong move. I’ll leave it at that.  But the next morning we had a date with the adjoining spa. Both of us signed up for spa journey and in between sessions, we’d meet up in its little communal waterfall room to wait for the next.  And yes, we were wearing robes.
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But not for long, unfortunately for my stupidity.

Fricken SIGH. Why can’t I just walk around not making an absolute fool of myself for fricken once?

My first session was a full body scrub and when I walked in she showed me the disposable underwear to put on:

disposable

If Ruthie cries seeing me in make-up, can you just imagine how long it’s been since I’ve worn a thong? I immediately think the bigger piece of fabric is obviously for the bigger asset, right? A 14 year old could have reminded me the right way. But no, I throw that sexy piece of clothing on backwards so that when the body scrubber pulls away the sheet, she stood there quietly for a moment before pretending there was something on the ceiling really worth studying just so she didn’t have to look back down.

Talk about an indecent proposal. I think I should’ve paid her a million dollars.

When I met her back outside after jumping in the shower, she had a glass of cucumber water and said  I was speedy. That was a cue to slow it down. I’ve got no nap times to race against, so just take it easy Carolyn.

Ryan certainly was.
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He obviously put the thong on correctly.

My spa journey unfortunately did not improve much. I laid down for my facial and she started massaging my shoulders. Yes! This is gonna be great, I thought…. Until she pulled out what might have been the actual sun and shined it on my face. When I squinted my eyes open, the most horrific thing happened. She was lowering a huge magnifying glass down to my skin to “inspect it”.

What the.

Get the frick away from me, woman.

But she didn’t. Instead, she pointed out every blackhead on my face and poke at them as if she were tatooing the Big Dipper onto my forehead. This was followed by an examination of every wrinkle on my prematurely aging face and what I could do to mitigate it.

And the clincher? The cheerleader clap at the end when she excitedly exclaimed, “Yay for facials!!!”

Yeah… let me just grab that thong and drown myself in the hotel pool.

I did feel connected to my mom in that moment, though. I had bought her a facial for her birthday one year and the lady pointed out an oil pocket on her nose. She said, I can take care of that! and brought out a hammer and bopped her nose with it. 4 years later, mom still has the red mark from that bop. And likes to point out my birthday gift to her every once in a while.

But it also didn’t help that my boost in self-unconfidence was followed by an early round loss by my alma mater. Being depressed while pregnant is like 1000 times worse. Ryan had to peel me out of the chair to go back to the hotel. However later that night, after room service (of course) the Florida GC team’s win against Georgetown completely shifted me the other way and then some. Hello mood swings. I thought I didn’t pack you, but there you are.

We went swimming, took long showers, and ate leisurely breakfasts. It was really nice. And at some point Ryan and I started to not talk about children. We teased more, we cuddled more, and laughed more.

And ate more.

On our way home, we stopped in Jimmy John’s and noticed one of their signs that said Yesterday’s Homemade Bread 50 cents. I wondered aloud if that was a fake or real sign. Sure enough, it was real.
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And five orphan loaves came home with me.
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That would’ve been the topper to the weekend if this hadn’t happened yesterday:
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I love cold Sunday afternoon naps, especially taken with a friend I hadn’t seen all weekend.

No offense second child, but I can’t wait for my next weekend away. And it probably will be in 18 months. That’s how long it’ll take to get over that facial.

Aisle of Doom

Let me put it this way. Ryan and I have been EATING THIS GIRL UP lately. As soon as we pick her up out of the crib in the morning she points to the door and demands in her garbled jabbering to be taken downstairs, she points to her bottom and yells POOP when she’s done the deed, and she has adopted my “oooooooh!” reaction to anything and nothing in particular – saying it in a song-song way to make the recipient of said “ooooooh!” feel worthwhile. You know, things like the jar of cinnamon in the spice cabinet, or when I pull out a new crayon color, or if there’s poop in her diaper.

Yesterday was a gorgeous day. Did I take photos? No. But we played in the volleyball sand pits and buried each other’s feet, we went for a long morning walk, and then played on the jungle gym at the park. Another girl was playing there as well and Ruthie pounced on this potential new friend. This she has also adopted from me as I find myself lunging for various girls after church on Sundays. Today was no different and I pounced on a cute expectant mother. Here was my intro:

[Bee-lining my way to the victim] “Hey!! I feel like we should bump bellies!!!! [And then proceeded to imitate the footballer chest-bump-in-the-air move.] Ryan and I aren’t stalkers, but we did spy on you and your husband with binoculars while out to eat at the same restaurant last week. And, oh yeah, my name’s Carolyn, nice to meet you.”

If she’d had holy water in her hand, it would’ve been dumped on my head. It sure is hard girliefriend dating in this day in age.

Anyway, back to Ruthie and the girl. As Ruth followed her around, I heard the girl’s dad say in Spanish, “Friend (how cute is that? Calling his daughter friend), Play with the little girl, okay?” I made a comment in English but he didn’t respond, so I thought this might be my chance to break my almost two years of not speaking Spanish record, and as we were leaving I said something about how cute his daughter was and Ruth liked following her. And he responded! Maybe I should stick to pouncing on spanish-speaking fathers instead of  girlfriends.

That came out wrong.

Wait.

If that came out wrong in english, I wonder what the hell I said in spanish to that guy. No wonder he responded.

And now I’ll go put a dollar into our cuss jar because I’m trying to stop. Ruth says ‘shoes’ in a way that is so eeerily close to the other s-word (shiiiuuuzt) that I’ve finally decided I have a problem and need to correct it before I can no longer reassure everyone that she is in fact saying Shoes.

But oh Miss Ruth. She’s been described as intense the past few days by a panel of two judges. It’s an appropriate description too. Cases in point: With the windows open last night, she heard her next door neighbor outside. She immediately started yelling jibberish very loudly, very intensely, bringing us her shiiiuuuuzt and pointing to the door. In the middle of this chaos, her eye caught the computer screen that had Elmo’s face on it and she stopped in the middle of yelling to sing the Elmo song (very demurely and softly) and then went right back to yelling. When they were outside, my neighbor said she saw a cat and started yelling, Cat Maow Maow Maow Maow (then looked up) Moon! Moon! Moon! Cat. Maow Maow Maow.

Holy multi-tasking to the psycho degree. She is living up to her middle name Margaret. My grandma was a busy bee and I can still picture her deliberate walk to wherever she was going. From just the kitchen to the sofa, even. Every movement was intentional and well, intense.

In other news, Ruth is afraid of our vacuum. So I deliberately took her down this aisle just get to see her get jazzed up. Aren’t I horrible? It’s like Nightmare on Vacuum Street. Better not sleep, Ruth.

ruth vaccums

Actually, it’s more like Nightmare on Ruth’s Clothes Street. If she looks like that, imagine what I must have been wearing.

Ah, it’s fun to have a built-in friend. And I sure can’t wait to pounce on her in the morning.