17....and counting

by: paris barrie

Let me explain.

It was going to be an epic night.

I danced in front of the mirror for awhile, turned the lights down low in my room, shut my door, pulled out my laptop and texted Joe and Ken. Spring Breeaaak. Sank into my favorite J brand pants, moved from bedroom to bathroom and back again to make sure I looked good.

I studied my face in the mirror, the way the girl down the hall studies for exams. Looked at myself from every angle to make sure he would like, would think, I’m beautiful. Hair’s perfect. Stretches down to the middle of my back.

Natty, Jess, Mel, they all dropped by, one by one, ready to get ready to go out. No rush. No problems.

My mother called. Loudly. She asked me something. Can’t make it out. Something about finishing, what?? She was always calling my name.

Passed the mirror. Saw the reflection. I looked good, and nodded approvingly to myself. Even winked. I loved the brilliance to my hair, the way it drapes to the side. Maybe I should cut it a little, but otherwise it’s perfect.

The car pulled up. Never getting out of the car, he stood up into the night, straight out of the car seat and up through the car roof, and smiled at me. We all piled in, ready for the city. The top was down, still. It was gonna be a good night.

My mother called again. This time her voice was clear. She said my name.

And then I woke up.

Okay, it WAS a DREAM.

Age wise, I am something after Bombeck, but before Dooce.com.http://www.dooce.com/. I haven’t had an epic night in well, can’t remember what year. Not completely true, but it’s not going into print.

When did this happen? When did the doorbell stop ringing for me to go out?? When did it start that the car honking its horns was for the neighbors’ kids? When did carpooling replace commuting?? Or rather, when did I add on carpooling in addition to commuting, and drop like a rock at the end of the day. When did 6 AM become a part of the morning schedule and not just a number on my clock, one that I would scoff at an hour before, and roll over for more sleep.

Brings me back to the line, it’s never just one thing. (And it never is.) Well, that’s why I am here. Two kids, one dog, okay one husband, a house, a mortgage, and it all adds up to TAKING 6 AM, well, seriously.

Is it time to change the sheets?

by: paris barrie

Let me explain.

When is it the right time to change the sheets? An old timetable for this routine household duty was once a week. Makes sense. Or does it?

I remember my own mother ironing those clean sheets each week, bless her. If she was ironing, it had to be a Sunday. This was a ritual that took place after Sunday Mass and breakfast, but before Sunday dinner. Out came the iron, the ironing board and spray starch, for that crisp, "new" to the touch feel.

But then came no wrinkle, no fuss sheets. And my own personal perspective on this is the day of changing and ironing those sheets once a week has come and gone. Pretty much up there with the laundry line and writing your checks. Gone. Passe. Yesterday. Everyone has come to know and love online banking. With just one click, ya’ pay a bill, monthly.

So, in my own personal quest to strip myself of time-consuming household duties, I hereby declare the weekly ritual of changing the sheets, outdated. History. It’s time to change the time frame. Create a more realistic schedule, if you will. I’m up for suggestions. But, I’m all for once a month, at best.

My advice: stay flexible. Don’t pen yourself in to any particular set of rules. After all, as they say, rules are meant to be broken. In this case, updated to fit the new reality.

I think it was Erma Bombeck who was quoted as saying that housework done properly might kill you. I don’t think I’ve ever agreed with anything more. So, what about switching things around, and going without any sheets just for the night or two? You’re downright frugal that way. Saves on the water bill.

And how timely--talk about going green. And the clean sheets are right there in the closet for the next night.

PB Quote

by: paris barrie

Let me explain.

Raising kids is like running a marathon. You start out full of exuberance, fresh water bottle in hand, but by the half-way point you’re dogging it and by the end you’re just hoping you’ll have the stamina to cross the finish line. Today, I'm dogging it.

The Morning Routine

by: paris barrie

Let me explain.

I don’t know about you, but what gets me up, what ensures that I WILL get up just a tad early, to be on time for work, is my solitary cup of coffee. It’s part of my routine. I should say it is the apex of my morning routine.

I nod my head to all those tea and decaf drinkers out there. But, I know I am not alone. Just take a look at what sells at all the Dunkin' Donuts, Seven 11s, bagel shops and Starbucks in the morning.

The thing is, no matter the drink of preference, we all have the Morning Routine in common. It provides the stability for the day. It acts as the anchor for the day. If the morning routine goes off without a hitch, the fact is, the day has a greater chance for success.

For some of us, the apex is the morning run or walk. Even the A.M. workout. Honestly, my benchmark is not that high. Just give me a cup of Joe, to my liking, and a few moments of solitude. For those 10-15 minutes, all my problems evaporate into the air, like a snowflake on the hand. I’m in the moment, Oprah.

Like many, I’ve tested all coffee haunts within a 10-mile radius. There’s nothing like a drive-thru, especially on bad hair days (here’s hoping that doesn’t happen often to you). And what about those donuts? And, all the locales with their never ending array of flavorings for the cup that goes out of the door with you.

In point of fact, I pay you all homage…

However, I have my own little corner of the world that, on a daily basis, serves up just the right cup of coffee and camaraderie to help me make it through the day.

I am such a constant there that there’re times I pull up in the car and my cup of perfectly brewed, piping hot coffee has already been poured, and is waiting for me to scoop it up and pile into my car…..

Ya’ gotta know that’s going to be a good day.

going Green/final thoughts

by: paris barrie

Let me explain.

Let’s face it, cleaning the fridge is a thankless task. No child or husband will ever remark on the thing of beauty that is a clean fridge. Frankly, it is a fading art, with the possible exception of those impeccable insides of refrigerators on the likes of MTV Cribs. But let’s face it, they’re only clean because of the show.

We’re all into streamlining. So, my latest tactic is to, once a week, clean out the most vile object inside the fridge. And, job well done. I think you’ll see, if you take this sound advice, how much time you ultimately save and just how much time opens up in your schedule.

going Green

We went green years ago. For a peek, just open up my fridge.

by: paris barrie

Let me explain.

I am not a hoarder, but you might think it if you looked into my fridge. I can not divulge how often I clean it. That is not up for discussion. I learned long ago not to delve into information that might shed an embarrassing light on my cleaning habits.

Let’s suffice it to say that while it is a job that is done periodically, it is almost never a job that is done routinely, with the greatest thought or expertise. In other words, it’s a job that is done, well with little thought. Okay, you could say, occasionally. Come to think of it, I really do it on the spur of the moment, and when the spirit kicks in, which means, you’ve hit upon it… rarely.

Honestly, I consider it an accomplishment if the bad milk gets tossed. If the moldy bread goes, it’s a bonus. If the hardened chocolate in a cup from the latest cooking experiment gone awry gets pulled and cleaned, a gold star should be placed on the fridge declaring me TOP MOM.

A Step or Two in a Different Direction

For the next few months, I want to take just one step out of my life and live the life of another. I don’t want to be anyone in particular. I just want to live my life through the lens of a humorist. And use humor to guide me, to help me and maybe, help you.

So, I will cast a glance at the situations in my life, and string together some of my thoughts.

WAIT, Don’t Look I’m Putting My Pants On

Somewhere along the way, you see that all of life is survival of the fittest. And maybe you’re just not as fit as you thought you were. Erma Bombeck, one of my heroines, put it another way: life is like a bowl of cherries, and sometimes you find yourself in the pits. I always did like her. That’s the way to look at life. The twisted version of the glass half full.

This blog is my idea of Communicating. Another way to look at it: like downing a glass of wine. Therapeutic. Relaxing. Brainstorming. Adjusting. Readjusting. Reformatting. Refitting. Finetuning. You get the idea. There is no right or wrong. Just growth, through laughter. Life.