I am exhausted today, which is so inconvenient since I have a million things to do to get ready for dinner tonight. Plus, Paris is grey and rainy and miserable, not really conducive to slogging through the streets running errands. I hate days like this mostly because I don't have a warm rain jacket which seems impossible considering the number of coats jammed in our hall closet, but there you go. I have warm jackets and rain jackets, but no crossovers. Do I have to fit an impromptu shopping trip into the afternoon as well?!
Speaking of which, I have to swing by the parapharmacy as well this afternoon for soaps and creams and lotions, etc. My mom had told me that she put a package in the mail with all the things that I forgot at Christmas when I did our packing, among which was an order I had placed with SkincareRX.com. Not only did I order lots of nice things but they are brilliant about throwing in samples and there is nothing I like more than itty bitty bottles of strange facial products. But it wasn't just the lotions that I forgot, there was ton of other stuff as well. If I remember correctly, I was home alone, Ella was taking a marathon nap and I decided that it was no good leaving the country without having truly had my fill of Tom and Jerry's. And since I never drink brandy except at Christmas, no reason to skimp on that. So, all in all, not too surprising that I was desperately awaiting the arrival of the package. Yesterday morning, the doorbell rang at a very early hour, which could only mean one thing- the package had arrived. I came dashing, ripped open the wrapping only to find a stack of pressies for Ella. OK, its now official that my mom loves her more than she loves me. There was room in the box for Dora brand Valentines Day yogurt covered raisins but apparently not for my face cream, without which I turn into the Elephant Man. All I got was some stupid electric cord that belongs with B's cell phone. Yeah, nothing says I love you like "battery recharger". All I've got to say is B had not better not be asking my mom for advice on what to get me for a present.
No time to wallow in self pity over that. I have my own Valentines Day prep to do. Have been skimming my fav recipe sites looking for ideas for our meal. I am thinking of this for a starter and basically this for main. And still planning on the eclairs for dessert. The only downside is that it seems like we will probably be to stuffed to participate in any other sort of Valentines Day activities. Hmm. Maybe I should think this though.
Yesterday morning we went to the playgroup Valentines party and handed out our cards. Which I just realized were not photographed. Oops. On the one hand, I appreciate that it was a good idea for a mommy/baby craft project but from what the other moms said, the kids participated for about 5 minutes before getting bored and wandering off. Same thing happened at our hosue. So we have come home with a bad full of cards lovingly prepared by my girlfriends, which is nice but not really the point. Maybe next year they will get into it a bit more. The party was lovely in that there were lots of yummy things to eat (which I mainly looked at longingly while sipping at my tea- remember only 15 days remaining on the Bikini Countdown 2007) and Ella is very good about entertaining herself while I catch up on the gossip. One little girl that I have only met once before kept coming up to Ella and banging on her head with whatever toy was handy. Her poor mother was horrified but Ella didn't seem too bothered about it. Amazing. At home, it takes me 5 minutes to calm her down if she gets bumped by a cupboard door while I am in the kitchen cooking. This kid was like the drummer in a heavy metal band and Ella hardly batted an eyelash. Glad that she is so tough. On the other hand, this might be an indication that she has picked up on some of her father's spaciness. We were once walking down a crowded street in the middle of the day and a clown passed us, nearly brushing B's arm as he walked by. I turned to B and asked where he thought that the clown was off to, considering that the neighborhood was almost all office buildings. He looked at me and answered "What clown?" He honestly hadn't noticed it, and acted like I was on drugs even suggesting that I giant clown would be walking down the street in the middle of the day. You guys, this clown was like 6'5, wearing a giant rainbow wig, strippy pants, full face paint and passed within 6 inches of B. Well, you might say, surely B was thinking deep thoughts, too absorbed to notice random passing carnies. That would mostly be people who have never met B. The worst part is that it is accompanied by an almost total lack of recall for the things he does notice. And rather than admit that he doesn't notice stuff and even if he does, will rarely remember it, he looks at me like I am certifiablely insane when I try to get him to remember stuff. It drives me crazy and the mere thought that I might end up living with TWO people whose purpose in life appears to be convincing me of my insanity is enough to just check myself into the hospital right now. If there is a God, please let Ella have missed out on this paternal legacy. She can have his ears, his hairiness, his under eye circles, his love of disco- anything else but not this.
Gosh, don't know if that little rant was the best way to show my loving devotion to my dear husband. If only I could write limericks better...