Friday, February 22, 2013
Reveling in the Fruit of My Loins
We've visited the Mapparium (stunning!) and the haunted bowling alley (such a disappointment — it's the size of my dining room and overrun with screaming urchins on vacation; we left and instead went to the hardware store, where Martini danced with every snow shovel in search of just the right one, and then to Trader Joe's, where my offspring entertained the other shoppers by plaintively begging for sweet treat after sweet treat, with their best sad-orphan faces [Martini, holding up a package of chocolate Whoopie Pies: "For the children, Mother?"]), I've cooked popcorn chicken and chocolate mousse (ah, gluttony), friends have come to visit and I've made many margaritas, the kids have finished their homework, and I'm on page 327 of Anna Freaking Karenina, the book I'll be reading on my deathbed. In short, a great week!
And one that's been utterly devoid of eating right or keeping fit! Sigh.
I didn't even go to zumba this week. And I had high hopes for a calorie-burning afternoon of intense bowling yesterday, but you know the end of that story.
I think . . . I'm on a break, that's all, a lovely week-long break. And I will hop right back onto the Spartan-living fast track when school resumes on Monday. (Though we're being hit by another big snowstorm this weekend; they may well cancel school. Which I shall of course take as a Sign From God that I need to bake cookies and drink cocoa and dance with the new snow shovel.) ☺
Today Husband is taking the kids to New Hampshire to play pinball, and I'm going to tackle the pile of editing work I've successfully turned a blind eye to all week (sorry, Zan!!). Tonight Angel-Daughter is coming over to watch Rock of AWESOME with me and Mimosa, and maybe tomorrow Martini and I will play some more Wii Fit games and I will see if I can figure out Skype. And then Sunday . . .
. . . is THE OSCARS!!!!!!!!
This is my Super Bowl. I plan special snacks (pate! deviled eggs with caviar! oysters! champagne!), I wear fan gear (rhinestones! elbow-length gloves! maybe false eyelashes!), I watch and revel in every blessed second. Love love love.
And now Mimosa is part of the cult!! This thrills me. I used to watch with Mom, now I'm passing the torch to my own little movie freak. That is good parenting, people.
No word about the potentially lucrative job, alas, so I remain wretched and poor. But I am rich in love.