Coal in my stocking

I'm gonna spill it and say that I very much dislike Christmas and all it's dumb crap; however, being in the retail business, this sentiment doesn't sit well with the clientele. Just today I selected some holiday music (never mind that it's 55 degrees today, which I love, by the way) to lull shoppers into the buying mood. I just cannot imagine spending money for the Christmas holiday while in short-sleeved shirts and open windows.
It just ain't right.

This Just In: necessary edit!

At risk of being pummelled by overworked mamas everywhere, I must interject and say that we will NOT EVER be meeting at Chunky Cheese.
That is all.

Startin' a Mama's Group. Are You In?

So due to the disappointing number of hip mama's groups (mainly, monthly get-togethers and sanity support for new and experienced mamas), I've decided to do a bit of my own organizing.

If you're a mama and would like to participate, post a comment with your thoughts (and/or send an email) and we'll get things rolling in the new year.

I'll get things started and say that I'd like to meet the first Wednesday or Thursday of every month from 6:30-7:30 or so at a location yet to be determined (something informal, a rentable meeting room or a kid-friendly, inexpensive restaurant, etc); we can discuss the direction of the group at that time. When spring arrives, we can meet up for outdoor events (walks, parks, hiking, you get the idea).

Let's do it.

Cool.

'How Do I Look In This Hat?' or 'What Day Is It? I've Been Awake Since Sunday.'

I'm lovin' this motherhood thing. Seriously.

I've never really been much of a mall-rat (well, except for that one summer with my mom when I couldn't get enough of The Limited and their uber-contemporary chrome and glass store displays); but, believe me, when there is a newborn involved, anything that makes you feel like a normal woman and not just a walking breast, you gotta get down with it.

So we're (me, Rosemary and her daddy) strolling through the mall via LensCrafters (my obsession with the perfect pair of eyeglasses continues. Why is it so damn difficult to find a pair of black-framed slightly upturned cat eye frames that don't look like I'm going to a Mardi Gras party? Pisses me off). Anyway, after spending over an hour trying on frames (Prada? D & G? Armani? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? It'd be a cold day in Maui before I'd lay down $300 for frames, despite how desperately the sales clerk stroked my ego by telling me how 'Hollywood' and 'modern' I looked in them), we head on over to the mall pizza spot (complete with framed photos of the customary b&w shots from 1973 of open-shirted Guido and Tony holding a hand-tossed pizza and looking like they finished doing laps at the corner Rollerama to the 45 of Billy Joel's 'Movin' Out'). Then off to Old Navy to take a peek at their baby section, as Rosemary is in dire need of some sleepin' clothes and I'm attempting to clothe her in as many 'non-pink' items as possible (brown? blue? bring it on. I'll deal with the gender identity issues later).

It's gonna be a long winter.