Hurricane Irene is like that friend who needs a lot attention, crashes at your place, needs money, and keeps you up all night crying about her boyfriend, only to leave with an attitude of entitlement, as if somehow she did you a favor.

Hello my dearest Siss-Miss,

Hope all is going well in the land of “very comfortable” aggressive, walking sandals and wool socks. For a place that always rains, why are people even owning open-toe/open-foot shoes? And why does one’s wardrobe always have to be ready for an impromptu rafting or camping trip? These are, I imagine, one of life’s riddles that we may never have answers to, but will undoubtedly be answered time and time again, when people reach the pearly-gates.  I remember all too well, when Dean’s friends were visiting us from LA, Florida, DC, Atlanta, etc for our wedding, and after going out only one night on the town, they decided to just “stay in” the rest of the days, because well, they noticed the sandals with socks, and of course, the matching North Face fleece.  I mean, why invest in a nice jacket, when the forest green fleece and royal blue patagonia ski cap will keep you warm and dry? It just makes sense, people. Why? Because it’s comfortable. By the way, the rest of the world hasn’t been comfortable in years. Well, not since hammer-pants, but even those, when paired with an upper-ribs bearing, cut-really-short, matching military blazer, made it decidedly uncomfortable. Cosby sweaters: comfortable. Paired with a 3 button, high wasted, triple pleated slack: UNCOMFORTABLE. Northwest grunge movement: comfortable. Paired with an inability to keep steady employment and a refusal to leave your parent’s basement: uncomfortable. Hahaa. Only kidding, sissee-roo, only kidding. I do have to say, that I was walking through  Macy’s the other day and saw some flannel dark colored, plaid button down shirts. Then, I saw the very same thing at the fashion capital of the world, Costco! They were selling, thick, dark green/navy, flannel shirts. This is undoubtedly the result of the powerful hipster alliance between Brooklyn and Portland. You know Eddie Veddar and all those other grunge bands made a collective, heavy, sigh of relief. I mean, they may be anti-corporation or what-not, but who can hate Costco and their sweet deals? If no one else, I’m sure the lead singer of Everclear will certainly purchase one -for no other reason than that he’s ALWAYS around nw 21st, and continues to bleach his hair that really “cool” blonde...‘Nuf said. Can I just say that my favorite part of Portlandia was the first episode where they sang, “The dream of the 90’s is alive in Portland” -I sing it regularly to myself. 

So, even though Hurricane Irene, really was the lamest hurricane of all time, especially in light of what happened in Japan earlier this year, it was, however, most definitely, the most inconvenient, nuisance of all time. She was set to hit Philly sometime late, late evening on Saturday, so naturally, we were evacuated from my building in the early afternoon. Unfortunately, our building lies in-between a river and canal, so it’s an optimal flood zone. We weren’t able to return to our place until last night...at 5pm. So basically from Saturday though Tuesday early evening, we had to stay in a hotel, all due to heavy flooding. This meant Sofia sleeping in the same bed as us, which Dean thinks is “adorable,” mainly because she’ll leave him alone, and instead, insist she share my pillow, by aggressively throwing her head in my direction -even though there were 4 other pillows on the bed. So, needless to say, I’m very glad to be home. And, as an added inconvenience and cost, due to the the entire first floor being 3 feet under water, the electricity was cut off, and all of my chicken breast, fish, shrimp, steak, ground turkey, etc in our freezer needed to be thrown out, after 4 days of being thawed. I had a giant garbage bag of just meat, and another of milk products, eggs, etc that needed to be tossed too. Seriously? As of this morning I have NO food in the house and need a trip to Costco asap. How much is Irene gonna cost me and can I take her to small claims court? 

Meanwhile, you will be happy to know, that as of last week, we changed Sofia’s crib to a toddler bed. Neither one of us was really prepared for this event, and I have to say, that I was extremely sad. It’s like that feeling you get, every time you put away the clothes they no longer fit into, except x100. Seems like it was the last step from her officially being a baby. In my mind she’s an infant, but I guess she’s just my little “giant-baby.” Why did she have to grow up so fast? Why couldn’t that first year, last more like 3 years? You’ll be happy to know, that she’s sleeping well and only gets off the bed in the mornings when she wakes up. Yay!

Just as an aside, after 5 years of marriage, you would think you know your husband pretty well, right? Apparently, I do not. Nothing was more glaringly clear when just last week, I was looking at our saved programs on the dvr and noticed “Lopez Tonight” recorded. I seriously thought it must’ve been an error and asked Dean about it...and you know what he said? “Yeah, keep it, I recorded it to watch Def Leopard.” WHA-WHA-WHA-WHAAAT? what? REALLY? Who is this man? When has he ever made me listen to Def Leopard on our many road-trips or trips, etc? When? I even sat there with him as he forwarded past the interviews to listen to whatever song they were singing in delight. Seriously, Sis, I clearly do not know my husband and will likely never know him at all. As the mean sister in P&P says, “I am all astonishment!” 

I will leave you with the following true story, I believe you’ll appreciate. My friend told me her patient was complaining about abdominal pain and was worried he had a burst appendix. The next time she saw him she asked about it, and it turned out he was just wearing his fanny-pack too tightly. The buckle was digging into his stomach. Omg, why is that so funny?

Alright my dearest Sister, I have to get Sofia some “supper” which is what she calls all meals thanks to Caillou. Super mom this morning got up early to drink her coffee in peace! I know, I know, I’m really stepping-up things today. Please kiss my handsome nephews for me and let them know that if I can’t have them, no one will...oh, wait I got their message and Dean’s mixed up. Just tell them I love them dearly. 

Love you and miss you so much. July went by too quickly.

xo xo,

Sara

Extreme Pain Showdown: Child-birth vs. Laser Hair Removal

Dearest Sisee

It was so wonderful having you and Sofsof here for a month. You’ve been gone for hardly 4 days, and I already miss you something fierce. I was thinking of her sweet face and curls, bouncing around here, keeping her own against Feisty Ninja – aka: Alec. Love you guys so much!

Let’s get down to business: Three Men and a Baby –worst movie EVER. Three Bachelors, living in an atrium-like penthouse, circa 1987, have to take care of a baby girl. CLASSIC, right?? In one famous – or infamous – scene, Tom Sellek and Steve Guttenburg have to change the baby’s poopy diaper. Tom Sellek is an “architect” but can’t figure out how to fasten the two Velcro sides of the diaper… HILARIOUS, right?? OMG, why did they make this horrible movie? It was wildly popular too, right? We were flipping through the channels and Brett landed on one of the HBO’s showing this, and we were hooked… for like 15 minutes. Then we found ourselves suddenly angry, and couldn’t bear it anymore.

Oh, and as a sidenote: Hey, HBO… we may be giving you the 6 months free trial then promptly cancelling you, but this does not mean our standards are low for your programming. Not Three Men and a Baby low. I mean, seriously?! C’mon! At least show something from the 90’s… like one of those Charlie Sheen movies where he plays baseball. No respect, I tell ya. (Yes, Rodney Dangerfield… my standard for my own humor drops lower and lower each time.)

So, after church on Sunday we were having lunch at home, and wanting to engage Evan in some conversation, I asked, “What did you learn in Sunday School today?”

Evan: “I learned about Jesus!”
Us: “Oh, good – what did you learn, Sweetie?”

Evan: “Jesus invited his friends over for dinner.”

Us: “Oh, that’s nice! We like that story! Do you know why he invited them to dinner?”
Evan: “Jesus invited them over for dinner because he bought a new car and wanted to show it to them.”
Us: “Uh… oh… ok.”
Evan: “They wanted to go for a ride in his new car, so he took them to the store because he needed to buy more milk.”
Us: “Um… are you still talking about Jesus?”
Evan: “Yes. He bought a new car and his friends liked it and thought it is really nice.”
Us: “He also loved his friends and told them about God, right?”
Evan: “Yes he did. And he also gave them a ride in his new car.”
Us: “Ok, fair enough.”

Obviously, Brett’s new car has thrown my little man into some sort of obsession – he regularly wants to walk around and see the different cars in parking lots, so he can inspect them closely – but I never thought it would turn into Jesus and the Parable of the New Car. Can you imagine? Then one by one, Jesus let them ride shotgun…

Oh, Evan… love you so much.

So… it’s no secret I have zero respect for actors. Or ACT-TORS. That’s it. I have no respect for them.

Actually, I had turned the tv on a while back, while the kids were napping. The channel was still on PBS, on which the kids had been watching cartoons in the morning. So, Charlie Rose – which Google informs me is a “great American journalist” – was interviewing the actor, Bradley Cooper, who was promoting the movie The Hangover 2.

Bradley Cooper: Making huge contribution to society via movies about hangovers.

Now, given that Mr. Cooper appears to be rather attractive (in movies, where hair, lighting and makeup people are heavily involved), I decided to watch some of the interview. OMG Sis, Charlie Rose asked so many ridiculous and indulgent questions, it almost pushed me over the edge (into letter-writing territory). Questions like, “How WAS it working with the GREAT Zach Gallefenagias?” And “SHARE with us the AMAZING EXPERIENCE of woking in Thailand.” (Or wherever it was filmed. I’m not gonna look it up, CUZ I DON’T CARE.) Of course there was the obligatory director-related question, “How was it working with Joe Schmo Director, and how did he ENABLE you to DRAW OUT the INTRICACIES of your character?” Naturally, Bradley Cooper – being the ACT-TOR that he is – self-importantly answered every question as though he had cured cancer and Charlie Rose was giving him the opportunity to share how he managed to isolate that one bad chromosome that was causing the cancer to proliferate, thereby rescuing mankind once and for all.

Seriously – it was like “Well, Charlie, Zach is AMAZING. His timing is TRULY GENIUS.” And “I had played this character before, and it was SUCH A PRIVELEGE getting to explore some of his vulnerabilities.” OMG SHUT UP! I kept saying to myself, aloud “We’re still talking about THE HANGOVER 2, right?! RIGHT?!” Un – friggin – BEARABLE! Of course, I made all this dialogue up, but it was VERY similar to what actually transpired during the interview. Charlie Rose… dude, have some self-respect.


So, as you know, no thanks to Dad and his super-hair gene he graciously passed down to us, (and society’s very strict standards for female body hair) I’ve been getting a bevvy of laser hair removal for the last decade – the latest (and most appropriate to discuss in a blog) area, being my under-arms.

Wait, before I go on, let the record show that Ava is getting her under-arms lasered AGAIN, because having children somehow re-stimulated the hair growth. Yes, the hair was gone, and it came back.(WHY?! And: UGH!! Also: NOT COOL! Wow, thanks, Having Kids.)

Anyway, so I was sitting there at my #2 of 6 session, trying to make conversation with the lady while she assaulted my armpits with what amounts to fifty little needles inside the radius of a nickel, going repeatedly into my skin. OUCH! It hurt so bad! It ALWAYS hurts so bad. No matter how much numbing gel you slather on, it’s still complete, teeth-clenching, fist-squeezing pain, over and over and over again. I found myself thinking, Is this the worst pain EVER?? Then I thought What have I experienced that would be more painful than this? Oh yeah, child-birth. But that was like a one-time deal per kid, this is SIX sessions, PER body part. Hmm…

I don’t want to offend all the mommas out there  - but I think maybe laser hair removal hurts more than having babies.

Now, I have to make a few disclaimers. My childbearing experience was waaaay nicer than most: “pre-drugs” (“…to take the edge off until the anesthesiologist gets here, Sweetie.” – Nurse Mandy), epidural (the Lord’s gift to women) as soon as I got to the hospital, a Starbucks Americano and surfing facebook on my smart phone, 15 minutes of pushing with Evan, 7 minutes of pushing with Alec… DONE. So, obviously, I’m not Hippie Earth Mom, “bearing down” and giving birth “the way women have done it for thousands of years.” (They all say this like it’s some sort of badge of honor. I don’t want to do ANYTHING from thousands of years ago. I don’t want to eat out of crudely chiseled dirty stoneware, I don’t want to sleep in a cave, I don’t want to defend myself against wild animals and deal with the anarchy of lawless lands, I don’t want to bathe once a month in a river, and I certainly don’t want to GIVE BIRTH TO ANOTHER HUMAN BEING somewhere other than a hospital with quick access to every available medical professional. But hey, good for them. J)

Where was I? That is, before I was passive-aggressively passing judgement on hippie Earth moms… oh yes, laser hair removal. It hurts so friggin bad! It’s not right! I don’t understand why modern medicine has made it possible to take a pill and GROW hair, but not to just as easily REMOVE hair. I don’t get it! And it’s not like my super black, coarse, thick Persian hair gets eliminated in the first session. Nooooo. I have to go back, over and over again. What are you gonna do – the price we pay, am I right? Ladies?  As Brett says, “Stop complaining – things could be worse for you.” (He’s really sweet and nurturing like that.) Next time though, I’m say to the tech, “Please stop making casual conversation while you inflict this severe pain on me. THANKS.”

And as a final note on the topic: Dear beautiful blonde people, please don’t ever, EVER talk about being hairy. You are not hairy. It’s not possible to grow blonde leg hair and consider yourself “hairy” – ok?! Enough is enough.

Well, I better go. Sisee, I miss you so much! Please give my Sofs a big kiss and say really loudly to her “WHEREMOMMYGO? WHERESISEEGO?” You are my sunshines.

Xoxoxo

Ava