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| Friday, 2-May-2008 01:45 |
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Comin' Home
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Wrapping up a contract with a client takes a lot of work. Wherever I go, I bring my staff with me and I hate taking them away from their families for so long. I hate being away from my family for so long. But I am a meticulous worker and sometimes that means dragging my people along for two to three week trips to DC, Philadelphia, Chicago, Boston, and next week, we may be adding Detroit.
The great thing about finishing a contract is I have the next two weeks to be loving mom and girlfriend. That's it. I can take my kid to school, come back home, and enjoy breakfast outside in all of Houston's humid glory. I will take a mid-morning bath and enjoy wine before noon. I'll shop for southern spring dresses and shoes and drop off lunch for Ali and his friends. Because school, homework, and baseball practice wipe the boy out, he's in bed at around eight-thirty. I can have date night every night for the next two weeks if I want. And I do want.
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| Friday, 25-Apr-2008 04:56 |
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Nothings
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I ate chips with cream cheese and salsa for dinner. Not the best I can do, but after working with a smug Italian most of the day, I'll eat whatever. I know I shouldn't have eaten that, so I'll be getting up extra early to work out.
My son managed to score a black-eye while I'm away. I asked mom to take a picture.
A little boy working a paleta cart with his dad gave me a coconut paleta because they didn't have change for a twenty. I told them it was OK, I didn't really need it, but they insisted. I went to the nearest corner store, bought them some bottled water (it was so hot outside) and brought it back to them. I slipped the little boy five dollars. He smiled and I could see he has had cavities. He was wearing a futbol jersey. I hope I see him tomorrow.
I love coconut paletas!
I hate sleeping in hotels. I itch in the sheets. I wear one of Ali's old baseball tees to sleep. When I get home, I'll wash it, fold it up, and place it in my second drawer. I'll pack it when I leave town again. It's faded and has a hole in the sleeve.
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| Thursday, 24-Apr-2008 03:08 |
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Naval Aviator
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To my son, my job is lame. It's boring and not at all interesting to a ten year old. He's got his father's wild spirit and love for the outdoors.
When we were in high school, Nate would talk about getting his wings and becoming a pilot. We would skip class about every other day and hang out behind the field house where the football team set head stones for all the rival teams they defeated. He hated being confined to the classroom. He'd talk about flying and I would tell him how wonderful it sounded and then I would have to bring him back down to earth so we could make out.
When I went to pick up Ali from Nate's this weekend, I realized how far we have come as a tiny, not quite complete, family. Nate was dressed to the nines in his perfect uniform and sporting his Coast Guard Aviator Badge, sitting on the bench outside his house like it was all no big deal. Everytime I see him dressed like that, I feel calling him Nathan is much more appropriate. Ali was sitting next to him with a smudge of dirt on his neck and the smell of sawdust floating around him. They had been working in the shop out back all weekend.
I stood beneath the stairs to the porch with my hands in my coat pockets (it rained this weekend). I knew Nate was in a rush and I can easily get carried away with small talk. He helped Ali get all his things in the car, said goodbye, and settled him in the backseat.
Still standing by the porch, Nate comes by, smiling like he did when we would sit behind the field house. While admiring his badge, I tell him that even with the kid, we managed to do the things we dreamed of doing when we sat next to those head stones. He laughed, blushed, and looked down at his shoes.
I'm so proud of what he has become and thankful that he is the best role model and superhero to our son. Ali will choose to take his dad to school for career day over me every year. But Nate being who he is, I don't mind that one bit.
*By the way, I'm out of town on business. I hate it and I think I ate bad Chinese food.
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| Friday, 18-Apr-2008 20:03 |
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First Born
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I have three younger sisters. After me, there is Addison, Alexis, and Ava. Adam and Aiden are in between somewhere. Addison, married and by far the most conservative of the bunch, is expecting a baby in three months.
All four of us meet on bright and sunny days like today at mom and dad's to tan by the pool that no one has been in for months. Mom and dad have left town to visit family up north, so we have the place to ourselves. Of course, the topic of the hour is babies. No one wants to talk about my boyfriend and me and how we're getting serious now. He'll actually flirt with me in front of the kid! For a while, he wouldn't do so and I told him my son is going to think something is wrong with me. He's ten, but he's quick. Addison doesn't want to talk about Lexi's boyfriend either. Honestly, no one does. We figure she's going through a stage and she mistakes his odd smell and overgrown beard (in April!) as cute and cuddly. And Ava, well, she's smart and keeps her mouth shut about boys.
We've been all about Addison these past months because if we weren't, she'd storm out of our presence in a hormone-driven rampage. God bless her husband.
She's been asking for advice lately. She'll look at me like I'm an expert. I hate to tell her, but I've already gotten to a place where I've romanticized those long days and nights of hungry baby wails. She'll ask about breastfeeding and if Ali was as stubburn as she'd heard some babies can be and I'll think for a second and tell her no. He wasn't. He had a onesie with BOOBS proudly stated across the front because he was a breast man. He loved to self-serve. I was awesome at sitting at my desk solving a geometric equation while he went to town. She doesn't remember a lot of this because she was thirteen and out of the house having a social life. I was fifteen. I only remember waiting for the next day on bad days. I can remember good days down to the very last detail.
Some days she'll ask me to take her shopping and I have no idea where to go for maternity clothes. Again, I have to remind her I was a teenager. A very rail thin teenager who got through her entire pregnancy wearing clothes that don't have elastic bands.
I haven't been much help. However, I do have diaries she can read through. She's been going through them like they were on the New York Times best seller list. I've seen bright pink, yellow, and green Post-It tabs on some of the pages.
This weekend, my brother-in-law and I are going to set up the nursery. She's having a girl and all the delicate shades of pink and flowing ribbons are very exciting for me. We'll have to sit and talk baby names. She wants to continue the AEW.
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| Thursday, 17-Apr-2008 22:33 |
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It's going to rain tonight
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There are boys running around a sprinkler outside. I can hear the laughter from here. There's also a Slip and Slide. They've raided the fridge and have eaten all my popsicles. For this evening, homework can wait.
In a minute, I will get a few things ready for Ali's weekend. I never need to pack much, he has his own room and things at his dad's. He'll want to take his favorite baseball cap, a mitt, his history project to finish before Monday, a couple of books, guitar, and his pillow. He's been leaving Gear Bear at home for a few years now, but I still ask if he wants to take him. He'll say no and leave him on the bed.
In the morning, I'll leave his things in the office so he doesn't have to carry them to class.* He'll remind me for the millionth time to feed the fish and turtles. He'll say he loves me, gives me a hug, and walk to class. At the end of the day, his dad will be waiting outside the office and they'll leave for a weekend of quality father/son time.
I will have a weekend to myself. I'm looking forward to it. Mama guilt.
*I need to be up early. I can't walk in the office wearing pyjamas.
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| Wednesday, 16-Apr-2008 22:43 |
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Fantasy Baseball
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A Wedding Cake
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On the nights that Ali has a baseball game, I let him walk ahead with his friends an hour early. They like to sit and watch the older kids play. Besides that, the kid has a lot of baseball luggage: three bats, two mitts, cleats, helmet, gloves, baseballs, and a pitcher’s net. I’m also team mom (because all the other moms were too busy with their other kids or have already been team mom), so I have to bring water and snacks for the team. The boys offer to help him carry it all.
I love Little League season. I start to walk towards the park about ten minutes before the game starts. I enjoy the short walk. It’s refreshing. When Ali’s dad can’t make it to a game, I call in for reinforcements, other family and friends. I never sit with the parents in the stands because they get very chatty and I never get a chance to just sit and watch my son play. I’ll pick a spot on a small hill in the outfield and wait for the party to show up. Friends show up with blankets and they have already raided the concession stand. My brothers show up at the top of the second and Aiden brought wine. I’m still not sure why he brought wine. Not a typical baseball beverage. Alexis, or Lex, drops in at the top of the fifth and she’s brought along her gem of a boyfriend. I like scruffy, but I think he’s just dirty. Another sister, Addison, shows up right behind Lex and she brought a tennis ball so my brothers can play wall ball with the Leaguers who played earlier in the day. When one of the boys hits a homerun, we all run and try to find the ball. If we turn it in to the concession stand, they give a free snow cone or pickle. If it’s a good night, I can sweet talk my way into getting both.
The last inning comes around and so does Ali’s dad. It’s a nice surprise. My fantasy is complete: mom, dad, and son all together at his ball game. By the end of the game, all ten of us will play a game of wall ball before they turn off the lights. I’m always the first or second out. Ali collects his free snow cone for a game well played. His dad will promise to be at the next game and he’ll be there on time. We’ll take off together, but I’ll head back to the hill to be sure Aiden didn’t leave the wine bottle.
The two of us will walk home in the dark. I’m lugging three bats and a helmet while Ali’s carrying everything else. He’ll tell me he wishes his dad could come home with us. I’ll take a bite of the pickle and tell him I wish his dad could come with us, too.
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| Wednesday, 16-Apr-2008 05:52 |
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Dear Adam
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My brother, thank you. Thank you for trying your hardest to get a picture of me blinking. Maybe one squinting. Another one looking down. Or how about the one where everyone is smiling for the family photo and you tapped my shoulder so I'm the only one looking to my left. Yeah, the oldest trick in the book, but I fell for it. Thank you for taking all those backside/butt shots every time I bend over. Bigger thanks for sticking them on the fridge at mom's. She collects them now. A whole side of the fridge covered with my behind. Thanks for that.
But most of all, thank you for this ONE photo. I'm not blinking, squinting, looking over my shoulder, and it's certainly not a picture of my butt. This one seems like you weren't intentionally trying to make me look like an idiot in a photo.
And my eyelashes look good.
Love ya!
*photo courtesy of Adam Edward Whitney
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| Tuesday, 15-Apr-2008 18:51 |
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Spring in my step
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Perfect time for bare legs, bikes, and Little League night games.
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| Tuesday, 15-Apr-2008 02:06 |
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When in Rome...
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morning
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I went to Europe a couple of years ago with my brother Adam and sister Alexis. My favorite memories are from the early mornings I had there. Adam and Alexis cannot be bothered in the mornings and I would often venture out on my own and return at noon to make sure they didn't sleep their days away.
The morning we were going to continue on our adventure and take a night train out of Rome, I got up early and went down the street from where we were staying to have breakfast. That morning, sitting outside, was the most gorgeous guy I'd seen so far on our travels. He was drinking coffee and reading a book that looked like it had been folded up in the back pocket of his perfect fitting jeans. He was rough around the edges, but quite irresistable. He looked nice, but not too nice, and smelled wonderful up close. I was afraid he was going to be American and ruin my dream. All of America had followed us to Italy it seemed. He wasn't. It was perfect.
We talked and had our breakfast. He was twenty-four and on his way to work. He folded his book up and returned it to his back pocket while we talked. I remember he said we'd meet again the following morning for breakfast and I agreed and we said our goodbyes.
I knew perfectly well I wouldn't see him the following morning. I'd be stuck on a train with two bums. But I was ok with that. He was the icing on the cake. I can never go back to that same cafe now. It just wouldn't be as great.
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| Monday, 14-Apr-2008 07:11 |
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AE Whitney: Disappointing mom and dad since 1983
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A History
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An About Me:
I come from a large family. I have two younger brothers and three younger sisters. A secret will last thirty minutes max in this family. We try to get everyone together for dinner once a week, but there is usually one absent.
I am named after my mother (Allison) and grandmother (Elizabeth). My boy is named after his great-grandfathers. Paternal, Alistair. Maternal, Evan.
New!: I get together with Ali's dad every week to discuss the boy and our lives. Ali thinks of it as our family date night. It only took his dad and I two minutes, a baby, and ten years to finally date. Baby steps.
I like to take all my workers and interns out for drinks at the end of the week. They have to listen to me and do what I tell them to all week, so I figure boozing them up at the end makes up for that a little. They love it. By two in the morning, texts are reading, "come quick boss drunk bring food". If it was a very long week, there will be a video included of me acting out Coyote Ugly.
This past week was one of those weeks.
*I was referring to the movie. Yours truly worked at a bar for about a year. One of the many glamorous jobs that helped get me through college and feed my son. Thankfully, I have yet to find myself in a situation where I have to act out Coyote Ugly the joke.
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