Get Me Murray!

**** This is one of my favorite blog memories. It still cracks me up to the extent that I wanted to share it again. For what it’s worth, Trixie is now 10 and occasionally wakes up of her own volition. ****

I was dead serious when I posted last week that getting the children up-and-at-’em is akin to poking two bears.

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Trixie (5) has taken to wearing sunglasses in the A.M, which overall channels a strong 1990s Courtney Love vibe.

Here she is enjoying a nutritious breakfast of Fruity Pebbles, which was immediately preceded by her barking, “Where are my Fruity Pebbles? I ordered Fruity Pebbles! And why isn’t anyone pouring the milk?”

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Note that the picture quality is poor since I had to surreptitiously take them to avoid her wrath. Frankly, I’m scared of her.

Spouse has also worked out a whole backstory to her behavior that I find hilarious (and a helpful coping mechanism), namely that she’s an indulged, out-of-control socialite/actress/musician.

He’ll pretend to be Trixie (out of earshot, of course), and routinely provides bon mots like:

  • The sun! It burns!
  • I don’t get out of bed for less than $10,000 a day. And I don’t see any bags of cash in your hands.
  • Get the G6 gassed up and ready to go! I’ll be at Teterboro in 20.
  • See you in Ibiza.
  • Where the hell is my agent Murray? He was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago! Murray! Get me Murray!

 

 

 

Fancy Pants

When I saw that J. Crew was selling these pants, I almost broke my finger clicking “Buy Now.”

Fancy hot pink velvet pants? Sign me up!

But then I looked at the other images.

Ok, when this does not even look amazing on a 22 year old model, I can reasonably project that the rear view on a 46.75 year old Boss Lady Doctor will be less favorable.

One more shot:

I passed.

The search continues.

Saving Good Things

Do you save good things?

And by this, I mean do you consider some items so precious that you rarely use them, lest they get, well, used?

I do. And this is not a Good Thing.

Recently I realized that I hoard some of my nicest stuff, ostensibly protecting it from wear so that it will be (mostly) pristine when I want to use it. Which is often never.

This Prada bag is a great example.

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I bought this a couple of years ago with the idea that it’s a classic and an investment piece.

By “investment,” I also mean in my image and not in potential re-sale value.

This bag was supposed to say something about me: polished, luxe, sophisticated.

Of course I am often not any of those things, so it mostly continues to live in a box in my closet.

When I do take it out, it’s usually to go to a work event, like a conference, and then back the bag goes into its protective home.

I probably feel this way because I didn’t grow up with designer anything around our house and luxury items still sometimes feel irreplaceable if ruined despite consciously telling myself they’re Just Things.

To me, true decadence is having something nice and not really caring at all about it.

A former coworker used to sling around this giant Vuitton bag given to her by her boyfriend like it was a hobo’s bindle. She would carry (and spill) her lunch in it. Toss it in the corner of Labor and Delivery at our hospital. Drag it behind her. I couldn’t imagine ever being that carefree about something so spendy, but the more I think about it, maybe she had the right idea. It’s Just a Thing, and a practical one that’s meant to be used.

My weirdness for saving nice things also extends to travel.

I hate taking worn-out things on trips, so I practically have a whole separate wardrobe of things to wear on vacation.

There are swimsuit coverups and sandals that only see exotic beaches. Cashmere scarves and cardigans that are only meant for drafty airplane coverage. White tees that stay unworn so they can stay white. Delicate clutches for nights on the town. A Kate Spade wallet that I only use for foreign currency (!). You get the idea.

While it’s unlikely that I’ll ever get to my coworker’s carefree state of mind, I think acknowledging the problem is step one to solving it.

The tricky part is that I still am waiting for a personality transplant where I stop ruining everything I touch. Wish me luck.

What about you? Do you save your best stuff or use it with abandon?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Slipper Incident

Last week I said goodbye to an old friend, my five-year-old pink Ugg slippers.

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This is a small glimpse of them, taken last year while watching, I think, an epic rerun of “Fantasy Island.”

My brother-in-law brought these back from Australia for me as a Christmas gift, and man, did they see some use.

I strongly dislike being barefoot due to multiple toe stubbing/breaking incidents over the years, as well as the fact that I just don’t like having dirty feet.

Slippers are always nearby.

What I liked about this Ugg pair:

  • They were warm
  • They fit well
  • They had a sturdy bottom that allowed for quick trips outdoors

About that sturdy bottom: it also was patterned with an intricate design, a feature that proved to be a big problem when I accidentally stepped into dog poop last week.

Yep. Glamorous me, back again.

And not only did I make the initial step, I didn’t notice the problem until about three steps later when that intricate design basically turned into the world’s worst rubber stamp on our floor.

After gagging and clean up of the floor, I inspected the slippers. The pattern was so delicate that it would have required something as fine as a pin to clean out all the grooves. When I noticed a big hole in the left toe (how had I missed that?), the decision was clear: the slippers were getting tossed.

Which meant it was time to shop for new ones.

I decided to stick with Uggs and couldn’t believe my luck when I found this adorable pair on sale:

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These are currently half price at Ugg. I ordered them even though the site said they are backordered, although the expected ship date is in a few days so I am not worried.

And good news: the pattern on the bottom seems easier to clean, although I hope I never find that out the hard way.

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Sigh.

 

 

 

 

The Boring Tasks of the Weekend

Yesterday I did some boring but satisfying tasks, perfect for a cold Sunday.

These included:

  • Writing down birthdays, vacations and important dates (like when Trixie needs to be picked up from camp 400 miles away) in the Lilly Pulitzer 2018 agenda I received for Christmas
  • Meal prep for the week. I roasted red/yellow/orange peppers, as well as two heads of cauliflower. I baked tofu and garbanzo beans to make vegetarian bowls. I hard boiled eggs for the fridge. I made a quick Mexican street corn salad with frozen corn, jalapeños, lime juice and zest, red bell peppers, cilantro and a small amount of nonfat Greek yogurt. This was a lot of cooking for me.
  • Sorted through a huge pile of papers on the kitchen counter, tossing half a garbage bag’s worth of unimportant stuff. Organized tax materials. 
  • Collected all of the holiday cards we received and looked at them again. Updated any new addresses for people who moved over the last year. Ugh. This caused huge guilt because we did not get around to sending cards this year.
  • Filled out school forms for MGM.
  • Communicated with our realtor about our home search.
  • And the usual suspects: Target run, laundry, gym.

I also pre-ordered this book this weekend, “The Year of Less.”  The tagline is this:

How I Stopped Shopping, Gave Away My Belongings, and Discovered Life Is Worth More Than Anything You Can Buy in a Store

I can get behind that sentiment right now. Looking forward to getting it on January 16th!

2018 *Must* Be Better

Last night – a few hours before the calendar turned – I posted the following on Facebook:

2017 was a shitshow. 2018 *must* be better.

Over 40 people instantly agreed. 

2017 was such a hard, hard year.

In the end, I am here and so are the people I love, and that is the most important thing.

But it took a lot to make it so.

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I don’t think I handled 2017 with particular grace, but there were some wins, particularly professionally. Personally, I have a long way to go.

My goals for 2018, in no particular order:

  • Train for and successfully complete races. I’m leaving the exact races and distances vague, but I want 2018 to be a better running year. I only did one race in 2017 (a half marathon) and while it turned out ok in the end, I was woefully undertrained and the whole thing did not feel good. I also set a goal to get a PR in a fall marathon and dropped out of training two months before the planned race. That felt like a failure. By “successfully complete races” I mean that I want to confidently step up to the starting line and finish strong.
  • Appreciate and encourage the unique qualities of MGM (10) and Trixie (8).
  • Be well. Eat healthy food. Exercise. Spend time outdoors. Take some time off.
  • Get taxes done prior to April 15th.
  • Find a suitable new home for all of us. Move. 
  • Celebrate 20th anniversary with Spouse. I tend to downplay birthdays and anniversaries, sometimes nearly forgetting them. I know. Bad. Our 20th anniversary is in early June, and I plan to celebrate all summer long. I already have two trips planned (one for just the two of us, one for our whole family) to bookend the summer. Considering that my wedding ring took an accidental spin in the garbage disposal over a year ago, a new ring would also be icing on the cake.
  • Continue to grow our medical practice. Practice medicine to the best of my ability.
  • Cultivate friendships, old and new.

Cheers, 2018.

Tucker Dress Inspiration

Did you see this photo last week?

The title from Mashable says it all:

Insane wildfire photo perfectly sums up America in 2017

Golfing at the country club while the forest burns behind you. Yep.

And this is exactly how I felt about myself yesterday as I sat on the sofa shoveling ice cream into my mouth while remotely tracking two of my friends who were competing in the Ironman Wisconsin.

She just completed mile 62 of the bike portion? Wow! Slurp. Slurp.

Her half marathon time is better than mine, even after swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112. Wow! She’s so amazing! Slurp. Slurp.

I was so impressed that two of my friends had done the work required for an Ironman and were now fearlessly competing. That was awesome. 

The correct thing to do here would have been to become insanely motivated and head out for a sweat session of my own, running in solidarity, but I did none of that.

I stayed on the couch.

Argh.

Earlier this year, I set a personal goal to train for and set a PR in a fall marathon. I had my sights set on the Twin Cities Marathon (October 8th), with the secret dream to stay in good enough shape to consider tacking on the 25th Anniversary of the Walt Disney World Marathon in January. These are both races I’ve done before and love.

Through the end of July, I kept up with my training fairly well. At that point I was commuting up to three hours a day, but I still found time to get in the weeknight runs as well as the longer ones on the weekends. In the week before we moved, I completed a 15 miler. It wasn’t pretty, but I did it.

And then came the move.

The first week, I missed three training runs during the weekdays but was able to complete my longer run (13.1 miles, it was a drop-back week) on Saturday.

The second week, I missed the weekday runs and the long run. I started to panic. I didn’t know routes, directions or water stops in my new neighborhood. I doubted the safety of running alone. It was hot.

I fell apart.

I made the lame excuse-ridden decision that this was not my year, and called it quits on the marathon plans, but I really let myself down.

Compounding that is the fact that while I changed my exercise patterns, I sure as heck didn’t change my eating. Frankly, the move has opened up a Pandora’s Box of great new restaurants to try in person or via delivery. There is even a liquor store that delivers through Amazon Prime’s two hour service to my house, which just sounds like the most dangerous thing ever. (I haven’t sunk quite that far).

Which brings me to the title of this post: Tucker Dress Inspiration.

Tucker is a NYC-based company that makes feminine, pretty clothes.

They are also very expensive.

While I love to spend money, it is hard even for me to justify buying a blouse that is almost $300.

Except – I have a work conference coming up next month, and the combination of my lifestyle factors (M&Ms, I’m looking at you) and job switch (moving from all suits/all the time to more business casual or even – yikes! – scrubs) has left me with limited wardrobe options.

And of course I want to look good.

These dresses from Tucker caught my eye:

The top one is called The Market Dress in Black Tire Track.

It’s silk and retails for $375.

The bottom is a fun Russian Dolls print.

The style is called “Abigail’s Party Dress” and it retails for $355. Tucker’s website styled it well for fall with black tights and boots. It looks adorable.

The real kicker? Both of these look like they *may* be forgiving of my recent indulgences.

I might have to find out.