July 27, 2009
making it work
On Saturday night, I had a chance to sit down with Tim Gunn and talk about Michelle Obama and three way mirrors and The Working Closet Flickr pool (hat tip to Grace Davis for suggesting that I tell him about that).
On Saturday night, I had a chance to sit down with Tim Gunn and talk about Michelle Obama and three way mirrors and The Working Closet Flickr pool (hat tip to Grace Davis for suggesting that I tell him about that).
Yesterday was the kind of day that leaves me breathless with amazement that this is really my life. It went like this: I put on a dress and some pretty shoes and I interviewed Tim Gunn, who complimented the shoes, and then went to dinner at a lovely restaurant with a group of smart, funny women who make me want to write smarter and think faster and laugh harder. And then I went back to my hotel and tracked Chris down and we went upstairs and jammed the dirty laundry and the Mrs. Potato Heads from the conference swag bag into our suitcases and talked about the weekend.
Oh, the weekend. (more…)
Last summer, my boys finally crossed that line where they are able to swim proficiently enough that I no longer spent every moment at the pool worried that someone was going to drown. This summer, I’ve actually been able to sit in the shade and read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies or Vogue or something equally important and weighty while the boys jump off the diving board 11 million times. It’s perfect.
But sometimes it’s still fun to sit on the edge of the pool and talk to them while they flop around in the water. Last week, they were doing underwater somersaults; Charlie can do three backwards, without taking a breath, while Henry can do a dozen, all in a row. But while Charlie curls himself into a little fetal ball and holds his breath, Henry stretches out in an arc, and every time his head comes to the top, he takes a big gulp of air and then goes over backward toward the bottom again. (more…)
Charlie is seven today; I cannot even imagine how that is possible, largely because how can I be the mother of a seven-year-old and a nine-year-old? You know, since I’m only 30 (as Henry has started to tell people).
((God bless that kid.))
June 2009 (more…)