This weekend my good friend Jen and her son Jake came all the way from Minneapolis to hang out with Ben and I.  Not only did they bring laughter and great times into our fair state, they also brought the snow.  Wasn’t that nice?  I’m pretty sure it was payback from our trip up there last April.  You know?  The time when it was 70 in Madison so I brought only opened toed sandals and it snowed in Minneapolis that weekend.  I’m not sure what Jen and I did to piss off the Weather Gods but clearly it was something severe.  Sorry, Dude.

Before the snow came, we did manage to get out and enjoy the best that Madison has to offer.  OK well the best Madison has to offer on a cold spring day with two 9 year old boys in tow. 

So we headed down to State Street for some lunch and shopping.

After one too many cute little gift shops, Jake was close to death, whereas his friend Ben (who was born with a Macy’s credit card in his chubby baby hand and who’s first word was “Target!”) was begging for more.  “Ooh!  Can we go in that shoe store?!?  LOOK!  WALGREEN’S!  Please just one minute in Walgreen’s!!!”  With Herculean strength, I pulled him away and promised him another shopping trip soon.

Later that night after everyone recovered and the Minnesotans slept, we decided it would be a great idea to go bowling! 

And it was. 

Except…

• -there was a blizzard going on outside.   In late March.
• -there was a 45 minute wait for a lane. 
• -the restaurant area happens to be the only spot in the greater Madison area which actually allows smoking.  And total losers who like to drop the F-bomb in front of young children.
• -the pizza, that in the past has been great, resembled something served in prison.  (Or at least that’s what my new lover says…)
• -and the boys who kept bugging their mothers for just “one more quarter!  PLEASE JUST ONE MORE!”

Not all was lost as the actual bowling part was very fun.  With Ben beating us all (cough cough, BUMPERS, cough cough).  And Jake coming in a very close second. 

I don’t know who that “Becky” lady is who got only a 67.   How is that score even possible? Was she bowling with her elbows? My God! She’s even worse than the President!

We finally left the bowling alley without a single coin left in our wallets, a desperate need to wash our smokey clothes and an unyielding desire to get home to wine, the couch and the Cullens!

It was a great little weekend and I found myself feeling really sad this morning when they left.  Jen and I have been friends for almost 20 years, and have the pictures to prove it.  I’m proud of us for working on this friendship and staying close.  Happily we even made plans to get together twice more this summer.  

In preparation I better find some really good water-proof mascara since if those visits are anything like this weekend, all make-up will be laughed off. 

My computer recently decided that I have loaded too many pictures and therefore I am no longer worthy of uploading nary a photo.  Just like a good Jewish grandmother it seemed to say to me, “Beckala!  Enough with the pit-chas already!  Just write to the nice people!  OY!” 

Since posting pictures of the family birthday soiree was out of the picture, I quickly developed a severe case of writers block.

Until I came home this afternoon to find the Holy Grail of Blogging material in my mailbox.  Yes readers, today the Writing Gods shined down upon me.   I received the elusive, the heard of on “20/20″ but rarely seen, Prison Love Letter.

At first I was freaked out and beyond puzzled when I saw the envelope with my name, my new address and in the corner, His name and the address of the Columbia County Jail.

My poor little brain worked overtime.  Who do I know in the clink?  Did I meet someone this weekend that had a brother in jail?  Did Ben’s Sperm Donor move to Wisconsin and change his name to Anthony?  Before I could even get my coat off, I tore open the envelope to find not only a page and a half hand-written letter but also a picture of my new love.

I can laugh now and write about this with ease but at the time I was FREAKED OUT!   Therefore I called My Person as fast as my fingers could find her on my speed-dial.  In our bi-laws it clearly states that letters from prison are worthy of the immediate and frantic phone call.  Since she didn’t pick up right away I had to call my parents, my friend Janine and half the state of Wisconsin.  My parents were concerned but Janine, who used to be a parole officer laughed and said “File this under ‘Great Stories To Tell’ and don’t worry..”  So I knew this couldn’t be that big of a deal.

While I waited for Shelly to call me back, I decided to carefully read the prose of my new love.   It seems he “received [my] name and information from a close friend” of his.   He continued to say, “Please don’t be alarmed because no harm is intended.”  Well, whew!  In that case, sign me up, Hot Stuff! 

My new friend of course didn’t commit any violent act to land him in a state penitentiary.  No, he “decided to try and get rich the fast way!  As you see, it was a foolish and poor decision!  A lesson learned.”  He also would be much obliged if I not only wrote him back but sent a picture. 

Finally Shelly called me back and informed me this stuff has happened to her many times in the past and not to worry.  She even had phone calls from prisoners.  Lucky girl.  She also informed me that I shouldn’t write him back.  Well phooey!  Since Yahoo clearly isn’t working out I thought perhaps this was my answer.

But sadly #264004 I’m not the girl for you.  So good luck to you on your speedy release from the Slammer.

As my wise and oh so eloquent son would say, “This birthday totally rocked dude!”

I’m a firm believer that one’s birthday should last at least three days.  Four through seven is acceptable, but they should be no less than three.  And happily, such was the case for this very spoiled Princess.

It started on Saturday afternoon when my dear friend Martha came up from Milwaukee to celebrate with me.  After a glass of wine and some much needed catch-up, we met Shelly at our local M.A.C. counter to get our make-up done for the Big Night.

When Shelly was done she looked gorgeous, which is no real surprise.

I, on the other hand, told my make-up artist, Babs, that I just wanted something simple.  Something natural.  Nothing big.  She smiled a very scary devilish grin and said, “You betcha, Button.”

I’m so glad she listened.   

This was a look that would be natural for Miss Saigon on Broadway.

No matter.  My eyelashes that wrapped up over my forehead and I went downtown to meet more friends for drinks, food and fun.

Unfortunately, because they kept losing our name, the food part had to wait.  THREE HOURS!  You know you’re getting old when instead of saying, “Forget the food!  Let’s just drink our dinner!!”, we all shared an appetizer and began to drink water. 

After we had plenty of food in our bellies, we were revived and raring to go! 

There were Bachelorettes giving us candy:

(We had to explain to Kim, who’s from the east coast, that she actually had to PAY for the lollipop. They don’t call it “Suck for a Buck” just because it’s a catchy phrase…)

There were prizes won in a raffle that was going on, JUST FOR MY BIRTHDAY!  OK maybe it was for a local music organization fundraiser but I like to think they were there for me. 

(I know I look possessed but that’s because moments before this picture was taken, I knocked over a small child with my eyelashes. Awkward!)

And of course, there were LOTS of laughs. 

In fact I laughed harder on Saturday night than I have in a very long time.  There were moments where I had to clutch my stomach and try to relax my cheeks they hurt so bad.  Amazingly I didn’t laugh-cry my make up off because well, I think that would have been physically impossible.  I broke a sweat just washing the stuff off later that night. 

All in all it was a wonderful night. I’m a very lucky girl with amazing friends who were way too generous. 

It doesn’t stop there!  Except I do. For now. 

Coming soon to a blog near you…. the Mikkimoto family birthday party!  Please try to control your excitement and then thank your lucky stars my birthday only comes once a year!

On the eve of my birthday weekend, I bring to you, once again, some of my favorite things.   These are items any girl would love for her birthday.  Or Mother’s Day.  Or Ground Hogs Day.  Or National Give Yourself  A Present Day! 

Although unfortunately this time, they aren’t all under $20.  So sorry but sometimes the best things in life aren’t cheap.

The first gem is a product was created from something Supernatural.  I truly believe that this face cream comes straight from the Angels. 

Ever wondered what butter + flowers + whole milk + heaven feels like on your face?  Wonder no longer.  This is it!

Behold Estee Lauder’s DayWear Plus.   I first was introduced to this nirvana in a jar when my mother who gave me her little sample.   After a couple weeks, I was scraping the sides of the tiny container in order to get the very last ounce out.  Since it’s not in my normal facial budget, once it was done I went back to my boring man made un-God-like stuff.  Life then was sad.  Until one day my mom mentioned before visiting my sister, she was going to get a jar of The Heaven for her.  All I had to do was look at her with big doe eyes, tell her how skinny and pretty she was and weird!  The next day I had my very own full sized jar.  They don’t call me Princess Mikkimoto for nothing. 

This runs about $38 a jar but lasts forever and so worth it.

Next I have my very favorite piece of jewelry, and since I love jewelry this is saying a lot. It’s the necklace that I wear all the time.  I sleep in it, I shower in it… it rarely leaves my neck.  It’s my Mommy Tags!

Pioneer Woman actually got me onto these.  She was singing their good graces so I happened to check out the website and I was hooked.   All their jewelry is “created from silver that has been recycled from film.”  And “each tag is unique and handcrafted by work at home moms.”   Not to mention the packaging is almost impossible to resist. 

These run about $75 for the necklace (they have other great pieces too) but again so worth it as it’s really high quality silver.

I have mine with Ben’s name and birth date on it.  I find it especially helpful when I’m at a fraternity on campus doing keg stands.  That way I can remember that I have a kid, remember how old he is and that I should be getting home sometime before morning.  Whew!  Thank you Mommy Tags!

And finally, on the first official day of Spring, (YAHOO!) I give to you my very favorite candle.  Anyone who knows me or anyone who has helped me moved has noticed candle wax on pretty much every piece of furniture, knows that I’m a candle nut.   But this?  This is the best.

The Gap used to have one but they no longer carry it.  Damn them!  So I found this one on Wee Can Shop.  It’s so potent and delicious that I sometimes forget I lit it and accuse Ben of cutting the grass in the apartment.  Again.

So again, go forth and stimulate this economy.   Because goodness knows those executives of AIG sure aren’t going to be with their now measly 10% bonuses.

Wordless Wednesday

After my child had a non-stop whirlwind water-park birthday party weekend, all he wanted to do yesterday was go to Grandma and Grandpa’s house and play.

With these guys…

After hours of work, he was quite proud of his castle.  As were my parents and I.

It took all of my maturity and strength not to shut my eyes tight, tap my heels together and chant, “Please make me a Playmobil Princess so I can fit in that castle.   Please make me a Playmobil Princess so I can fit in that castle.    Please make me a Playmobil Princess so I can fit in that castle.”

I resisted.  I was strong.  Remember, I’m still holding on to the small amount of “cool” I have left.

When I was pregnant, one of my biggest fears was that as soon as this baby came into the world, my hair would turn into a tight perm and sensible shoes would suddenly appear on my feet.  I had to make sure that just because this “being” who was soon going to call me “Mom”, it didn’t mean I had to give up Me.

Therefore, as soon as my feet stopped looking like they belonged to Minnie Mouse, I donned my highest heels and took my one week old baby to Target.  All the way listening to The Counting Crows and not Barney. 

Throughout the years, my sweet son would look at me with admiring eyes that said I was the coolest thing since video games.  I could do no wrong.  The music I listened to was The Best.  Everything I wore was cool.  When I put lipstick on in the car he would make me turn around so he could see me and would say, “You luk perdy Mommy!”

As The Boss would say, those were the glory days. 

That was then. 

This is now. 

These are the days when my once biggest fan looks at me in the morning before we head out the door and says, “Um, no offense Mom, but that top doesn’t really match the bottom. I don’t think that’s appropriate for work.”  Let the record show I was wearing a hoodie, yes, but it was a light-weight black zip-up sweater!  From Old Navy!  And it was cute!  Paired with nice jewelry and heels I looked sporty, dammit!

In addition to my other Super Human qualities, I also used to be the best driver he knew.  These days I get, “OK seriously Mom, what ARE you doing?”  Again, to defend my aged self, I was just backing up. OK, maybe not that straight but let’s see how Smarty Pants gets out of this driveway when it’s his turn!

And when my sweet son recently found me folding laundry, and exclaimed with mild horror, “WOW!  Mom!  Your underwear are huge!!”  I ran to the computer to buy everything Victoria’s Secret had in stock (3 sizes too small).  However, I soon realized that of course my undergarments look huge next to his teeny tiny little boxers that would be tight on a Ken Doll.  The kid may have size 4 feet but his butt is still in the negative numbers.

Right before Ben’s almost nine year old eyes, this once cool, hip, can-do-no-wrong Mama, has turned into a … Mom.

I suppose it’s just a matter of time until I start sporting a smart blouse (hopefully with a fun bow), have the Mom Jeans hiked up as high as God will allow, make-up a distant memory (M.A.C? What is this M.A.C you speak of?) and with my new sensible-no-fuss hair I will often be mistaken for Little Orphan Annie.

It was fun while it lasted.

Wordless (hiccup) Wednesday

Shelly:  I loved the interview with Ben by the way. Stay at home? What? That little bundle of energy? 

Becky:  And speaking of energy… all the way to school this morning I told him, “be careful on the sidewalk, it’s really slippery.”  So I drop him off and what does he do? RUNS! Down the hill to school! I watched that he got there ok but good lord kid.

Shelly: That’s OK. They still bounce at that age, right?

Becky: Running with his arms FLAILING around. Like helicopter blades.

Shelly: Smart boy – the arms were for balance. That’s why he didn’t fall.

Becky: Of course YOU understand him. His own mother doesn’t.

Shelly: How do you think I came into work today? Just like that.

I feel like the paperboy in “Better Off Dead” who stalks John Cusack for this two dollars.  “I WANT MY TWO DOLLARS!!!”  Except in my case, I’m going after Daylight Savings Time and demanding my hour back.

Yeah I’m That Guy.  The one who hates Daylight Savings time.  I’m the one who complains with every clock I change.  And since I happen to like clocks, I have a quite a few.  Therefore, LOTS of complaining.  Yeah, I’m That Guy who will be saying until mid-April, “Well it’s 2:00 but really it’s only 1:00 so it’s still sort of lunch time so sure, I’ll eat again.”

And I’m not making it up right?  It DOES keep getting earlier and earlier every year.   We sprang forward on March 7th this year.  MARCH 7th?!  Really?  Pretty soon we’ll have about 2 weeks before we spring ahead right after falling back.  When I was a kid, and had to walk uphill both ways to school in thunder-snow, we didn’t “spring back” until at least late April. 

Rumor has it that moving up our “Spring Ahead” is a mix between helping the economy and saving energy.  Really?  I mean, REALLY??  Come on.  Can’t they come up with a better excuse than that?  Pigs migrating south for the summer on roller-skates would make more sense.   So because it’s going to be dark again in the morning and lighter in the evening, I’m going to turn on less lights and finally go out and get that purse I didn’t have the money for last week? 
“Hey! It’s daylight savings time!  Weird!  Look at all that extra money in my wallet!  Because it’s light at 6:30 I have this sudden urge to go shopping and turn down my heat even though it’s MARCH in WISCONSIN and therefore still COLD!”

This has to be a leftover harebrained idea from G Dub.  Obama!  Fix this! 

And I love how Arizona and parts of Indiana don’t follow Daylight Savings time.  What?  Parts of a state?  How the hell did THAT happen?   So Gary Indiana is some freebird hippy who refuses to comply with peer pressure so they just say, “No thanks.”  How do they get to skip out on this?   It seems only fair that since the whole state of Indiana doesn’t have to all ”spring forward” together, that my part of Wisconsin doesn’t have to either!  I think when I just show up an hour late to everything for the next 6 months I’ll just say, “Yeah, sorry.  Becky doesn’t follow Daylight Savings time.”   I’m  also pretty sure that stating this fact in the third person will make it more legit.

I guess the only redeeming quality is that tonight I can go to bed at 9:30 which is really 8:30 without prompting the AARP to send me their membership card.