I am realizing again my age and life stage when I find myself getting excited about things I NEVER thought I’d get excited about. If you ever chatted with me for even a bit, you’d quickly discover that I am far from domestically, uh, shall we say, inclined. I think cooking is just a necessary evil and I envy people who find it to be a joy or even stress relief. I can’t understand it at all but I envy them (and I’m sure my husband envies them, too). I don’t know the best way to organize or clean our home and I’m always stressed or disappointed in myself for having a somewhat tidy home only when we know someone’s coming over. I despise packing so much that I fantasize about being disgustingly rich one day to hire someone just to pack wisely for me before all trips and changes in season that require crap to be put away. I asked my husband if we really had to include kitchen items on our bridal registry. (The unreasonable guy said we must.) When I compliment someone on their cooking or baking, and they proceed to actually tell me, “Oh, it was really easy. All you have to do is…” I glaze over though I try to stay focused.

I thought about how just last year before Micah arrived, I would excitedly count down the hours left in my workday to head straight to a Theory sample sale for their great slacks and cardigans or a Me&Ro sample sale for some dainty necklaces. Or feasting on some pretentious-sounding dish or other (Nebraska Wagyu Beef, Sweet Shrimp and Osetra Caviar Tartare; Black Pepper – Vodka Crème Fraîche, Pomme Gaufrette). Now I get excited to find out that we do not have to get our comforter professionally cleaned for $55 because we could actually stuff the huge thing in our own washer and dryer and save about $50. Not just, “oh cool,” but beaming while breaking into the Robocop in our sunken living room. When CVS sends me a coupon via email, it gives me a small thrill to know that I can buy some milk, cashews, and ponytail holders at a whopping 25% off (if purchased before July 2nd, certain restrictions may apply).

When Micah got sick with his first-ever cold recently, I couldn’t stop telling everyone about the Nosefrida, the snotsucker that allows you to literally suck out of your baby’s nose. (Don’t worry, no danger of it ever reaching your mouth.) It was so satisfying to be able to SEE the snot come out and know I’m helping my baby with his whistling nose. When the other parents and I were gathered around at the Gymboree circle and asked, “What was the best gift you ever gave your child?” everyone else answered, “Uppa Baby stroller” or “pack n play” or “highchair” while I gushed about this simple contraption for snotsucking. It hadn’t even dawned on me to name anything else, none of the big-ticket items that we, too, had purchased for our dear boy for they did not bless me with the sheer joy and relief I felt when clearing my baby’s mini-nostrils. I couldn’t believe my doctors were so negligent by not telling me about this contraption to save a congested baby.


But then again, some things never change. I still get excited about another lame (perhaps lamest?) season of The Bachelorette.

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