You Asked For It

I swear on all things good and tasty that yesterday's post was not meant to illicit compliments. Not that anyone accused me of such, but after all of your kind comments, I got to feeling like maybe I had inadvertently gone on a fishing expedition. That by talking about the lack of compliments in my world these days, I was in fact asking for them. Not the case. Yesterday.

Today, on the other hand, is a horse of a different color. Today, feel free to lay it on thick. This is more pictures than I have posted of myself in the last year, TOTAL, and I'm feeling a little exposed. So hyperbolic waxing on the vastness of my beauty and the sheer perfection that is my haircut are in no way discouraged.

I can live for two months on a good compliment - Mark Twain

I went to see a good friend a couple of days ago, we were planning to see a movie and do some shopping. When I got to her house, she commented that my hair looked shorter, to which I responded, YES, I just had it cut. She just looked at me and that was pretty much the end of the conversation. She didn't tell me I looked bad, but she didn't say I looked good either, so my assumption is that this hairdo is a don't. Which is too bad, because I'm actually kind of happy with it. Whatever.

But that got me thinking. When I worked, I got daily affirmations about my appearance. And if I got a haircut, well then ratchet the compliments up a couple of notches. Because that is what women do. Even if we're not being 100% honest, and to be fair, that is sometimes the case. Women can be snippy and backstabbing and cliquish but we are also incredibly supportive. I don't think I realized just how much I thrived on that until I didn't have it. Sure, my husband compliments me (when prodded), but it isn't the same. He has to tell me I look beautiful.

I really do miss it. I miss people complimenting my shoes or my purse or my clothes or my hair or WHATEVER. Just complimenting me. I hadn't realized what a big part of my self-confidence relied on those little pearls. They were a barometer for how I gauged myself.

Perhaps in some ways this is good. I don't look to external sources to measure my self-worth. These days, I alone am responsible for boosting myself up. It is only my reflection that compliments me on a regular basis. Which isn't the worst thing in the world, I suppose. But I have to tell you, that bitch is kind of stingy with the praise.

Cousteau She's Not

We went to the National Aquarium in Baltimore on Friday for Sophie's first visit to see the fishies. We met some old friends and their beautiful daughter there. While it was lovely to spend an afternoon with people I don't see nearly often enough these days and enjoying some (mostly) adult conversation, Sophie was a little less than cooperative for most of the visit. I wish I could say that my little bean went from one amazing underwater view to the next, oohing and aahing over the countless aqautic wonders, but the truth is that she spent the entire time pulling me/racing towards the escalators and moving sidewalks that transport visitors between the levels in the multi-storied building.






















Next time, I'm just gonna take her to the mall and save the $25.

*Just so you don't think I'm a terrible mother, during the photographing of this picture is the only time I let go of her on the escalator. Looking at this picture now, my mind goes to some pretty gruesome places involving fingers smushed in the stairs. Shudder.

Harmonica Slim

1. She might have been distracted by the crazy syncopation of my snapping.

2. She was definitely offended distracted by my singing, the quality of which we will blame on low video quality.

3. It's hard to hold a camera still when you're snapping and singing.

4. Watch the eyebrows.

5. She's not much for big finishes.

The Best Time Of Day

One of my favorite times of the day is just after Neil gets home from work. Usually by that time, Sophie and I have just about had enough of each other. She is to the point of doing things just to get a rise out of me and I am to the point where I go straight to yell rather than my usual progression of soft instruction, then firmer, then louder, then yell.

I have always enjoyed cooking (which would come as a surprise to my 7th grade Home Ec teacher who gave me a D), but these days, that enjoyment goes to a whole new level, because now it is my time. No grabbing, shouting, running, knocking things down, squealing, crying and in every way distracting toddler to divert my attention. Neil takes Sophie down into the basement family room while I throw on some music and get to work crafting our meal.

It doesn't matter what I'm making, somehow it almost all winds up taking me 30-45 minutes. In the old days, when I typically didn't get home from work until 7pm or later, that would have been a burden. I would most likely have skipped a better, more healthy meal for something quick and easy. There's a reason Hamburger Helper is so successful. I don't want to say we single-handedly kept them in business, but their stock is down these days. You do the math.

Neil would be happy either way, but now that I have to think not just about my expanding waistline but the needs of a growing child, our meals have taken on a new context. Now they must be nutritious and tasty, but not gratuitously fattening, not always an easy balance to keep.

It was always my intent that we institute a family dinner just like I had growing up. Regardless of what was going on, we all sat down to dinner together every. single. night. I just didn't realize that the preparation would become as much a part of the ritual as the meal itself.

Just one more example of the MANY things that I never would have expected prior to having a child.

Friday Top Ten: A Traveling We Will GoGo

To condense our trip down into a palatable selection, the top ten travel tidbits from the Kansas Trip of Aught Nine:

1. On our way to the airport, we saw cops chasing a bad guy. On foot. It happened about five minutes from our house. We live in a NICE suburban neighborhood. Two cop cars had stopped to talk to the guy, he got spooked or whatever and took off running. The two cops ran after him. We were driving by at exactly the right time to see it happen. At one point he was running right next to our car. It was wild.

2. Once again the "Cara Curse" struck. No matter where I go, I bring bad weather. My parents have threatened to hire me out to farmers in need of rain. Despite weather forecasts in the upper 70s/low 80s, it was quite cool the whole time we were there. So cool, in fact that I had to go buy heavier clothes for Sophie and a cardigan for myself. Which is why she was in the baggy clothes during our croquet match. Her 23 month old body just doesn't fill out 18mo clothes.















3. The GoGo Kidz Travelmate is freaking awesome. Seriously. If you're traveling with a toddler any time soon, you MUST get one. They made life so much easier. Sophie even liked riding in her car seat through the airport.

4. Sophie loves riding in my parent's golf cart. Almost as much as my husband likes driving around in it. So it's a win/win. Too bad neither of them like golf.















5. Grandpas are physically incapable of resisting the wiles of a smiling two year old grand-daughter.

6. While she will violently fight being put into one and climb out within minutes, one of her favorite activities at (IN) my parent's house was being pushed around in her stroller.















7. The flight there was pretty painless. The flight back? Not so much. It's amazing how much noise one tiny little body can make and how loud that will seem in a quiet, dark airplane at 9 o'clock at night.















8. A knee walker will keep a toddler occupied for a surprisingly long time. Like four days. A mother will get tired of pushing a toddler around on a knee walker after about 10 minutes.






















9. Amazingly, despite the fact that I ate pretty much everything that came within my reach, including some of the best barbecue anywhere*, I only gained one pound. It seems that vacation calories really don't count. Yay!

10. I have the wingspan of a King Vulture. I'm trying not to read anything into that.
















*Add to the Only in a Small Town file: When the rib joint we got carryout bbq from forgot to pack my sandwich, we called up and they brought it out to us. They do NOT deliver, they're just that nice. That's Kansas courtesy, folks.

Croquet Anyone?

So yeah. We're home. Lots of tales to tell. Not the least of which is why my daughter was playing croquet. In clothes that are at least a size too big. Wearing her new "cheese!" smile.






















But all that will have to wait. I've got to unpack, go to the grocery store, find the puke I am quite confident the cat left for me as a welcome home present, hit the gym to begin the recovery from eating as though there were no tomorrow for the last five days and tidy up the house which we left in a complete disaster. (Not that it's ever far from that state anyways, but it's always shocking to come home to it after an absence.)

Neil's yelling at me now, so I've gotta run, but I'll be back for realz tomorrow. Kisses.