PERFECTLY DISHEVELED

It's just too apropos... I'm sitting here in my pajamas, sipping cold/old coffee, writing this post, listening to MBMB (that's: My Boyfriend Michael Buble) on The Today Show, on the phone with yet another customer service rep, waiting for the sound of Baby-Ko to come over the monitor, wondering if I will have time to take a shower (and maybe pluck an eyebrow or two) AND do some research on child care..... I'm kind of a mess.

For weeks now, I've toyed with the idea of changing my blog name.... wanting to find a title and name that really summed up the essence of who I am.... All these thoughts swirled around... I used to be off the charts Type A; now it's a minor miracle if I can even REMEMBER where I put the "to do" list or if I even wrote one up for that matter... I used to think out "my look" before I left the house; now I'm lucky if the dress I'm throwing on with a pair of flip flops isn't noticeably covered in Baby-Ko's lunch (from yesterday)... FORTUNATELY, on the outside I think I seem pretty put together (as if the scarf in my hair due to lack of washing was intentional). Yes, me spilling my FIVE DOLLAR Iced Cappucino all over the floor of Anthropologie yesterday as I accidentally pushed Baby-Ko's stroller into a display is ALL PART OF "THE PLAN." wink wink.

SO, with Baby-Ko turning 1 in a few weeks, me turning 32 AND returning to work after a year of staying at home (which I'm totally excited yet utterly anxious about), I think it's time to embrace the new me, the changed me... the PERFECTLY DISHEVELED me.

I will miss "Bodice and Beem-Beem," (an ode to my imaginary friends). But, they are not going anywhere...
I may be disheveled, but my imagination will ALWAYS run wild...

A SIGN OF THE TIMES

As I sat at my desk, desperate to conquer some of my ever-growing, never diminishing "To Do List," I realized IT WASN'T GONNA HAPPEN.  It was 1:30. I hadn't even showered,  I hadn't eaten lunch, and I certainly hadn't called the woman to "handle the thing" (I assume in every marriage, someone always is obligated to call someone about "the thing." Right?)

I climbed out of the chair and sank to the floor,  strewn with random "toys" from my office... a remote control, a roll of tape, an old calculator and a giant stuffed Elmo.  I turned to Baby-Ko. He squinted and smiled from ear to ear. Finally, Mama. Didn't you realize 11 months ago that you'd never be able to do anything else but pay attention to me?  Jeez.

Feeling a bit defeated and saddened by the fact that my old "do it/ get it done fast" way of life is officially no longer, I decided to take Baby-Ko back out to living room, where his real toys are. All of a sudden, from the TV speakers I hear, "Welcome to Signing Time!" I remembered that I had recorded it (I usually have  the XM classical station on the TV playing softly) and the DVR must have switched over. 

I felt a little guilty as I pointed to the TV, encouraging Baby-Ko to watch. At first he didn't seem to care. Then all of a sudden, he zoned....


And zoned...

and zoned...

Within minutes, I was watching him from the kitchen, checking my voicemail(s), preparing AND eating my sandwich, and taking my first breath of the day. Am I a horrible mother? It's not the "evil" Baby Einstein at least, right? AND look, he's trying to mimic their signing! (Ironically, they were working on the sign for "TV.")  

After I scarfed down my sandwich and Baby-Ko discovered that the taste of the foam guard on the coffee table was more interesting than Hopkins, the signing frog, it was time to put Baby-Ko down for a nap...

I still haven't tackled the "important" stuff on my To Do list and I doubt that I'll be able to get it done tomorrow, or even any time soon for that matter... I'll try to embrace it... or at least take it as a sign...