I've been to the mall since having T. I know I have. And yet, yesterday was the first time I Went to the Mall. Not just to Target. Not to go to lunch with a friend and, oh, let's stop and get a family picture taken while we're here. But The Mall -- as in, wander around into several shops, try on things that probably won't work out, but might. Look at stuff without a tight focus on find, buy, escape.
A. is _so_ much easier to take places than T. R. taking FMLA means we have time and energy for this kind of outing. And Lots and Lots of child care means T. doesn't need to be involved. We did buy him a snow suit (down -- here's where we find out whether he's allergic or not) and some mittens and lined cords and lined jeans. He insists on playing outside and we don't want him to freeze to death.
We also went to Barmakian Jewelers for my Christmas present (a charm bracelet). That was also disturbingly fun, especially since the place was dead (midday midweek, they'd be quiet anyway, but the season is pretty dire for everyone) and we had an Adorable Little Baby (by definition, all little babies are adorable, even if they are kinda weird looking) with us and the sales folk were uniformly women with grown children, mostly without grandkids.
R. is hooked on Origins' Ginger Rush, which we bought. I got a red trench coat, among other things.
I cannot tell you how happy this makes me.
I recognize that Treasury is not a great spot to be in terms of career security -- just like Lincoln went through Generals in the course of the Civil War, we'll probably be going through financial advisors including Secretary of the Treasury. It's _possible_ Geithner will find a solution both so effective and sufficiently popular that he survives.
But I kinda doubt it. And if I'm right, and Geithner is just a fuse, the next guy will be a lot less popular with Wall Street and a lot more dramatic in terms of what he's willing to propose in terms of solutions. We Shall See. I was sure wrong about what was going to happen to the price of oil. It's below $50 these days.
I bought stroller hooks, which are plastic hooks that velcro on.
Stroller hooks are very cool. However, the drinks caddy (Jolly Jumper brand) arrived _after_ the Mall Crawl, so we haven't had an opportunity to try it out yet. Which is a bummer, because we really could have used it yesterday.
I've been watching a bunch of what are basically cop dramas (Law and Order in various incarnations, NCIS, Bones, etc.) and some transformational reality shows (Clean House, What Not to Wear, The Biggest Loser in various incarnations). While I have some things to say about the cop dramas, this post is about the reality TV, because it has been leaking out into my daily life.
Clean House, for those who have not inflicted this show on themselves, involves a crew of 4ish folk who descend weekly (more often in reruns) on a house in greater LA. They interview the residents, convince them to part with a bunch of their crap in a yard sale, take the resulting money plus some sweeteners and transform some or all of the house while the residents are relaxing in a hotel. The residents are blindfolded, the Big Reveal Occurs. The production value on the show has gone up over the years, resulting in better wardrobe for the on-camera crew, a lot more gifting of furniture and better hotel stays. Banter amongst the crew supplies a lot of the entertainment with yard sale antics and mockery of the residents clutter supplying the balance. It's an amusing show.
Regular readers know we have been contemplating renovating or moving to a larger house and have been monitoring real estate in a town or towns in Massachusetts because it would improve R.'s current commute and also put him nearer a nest of desirable possible future jobs. However, the Massive Economic Collapse means we can't sell (and might have trouble renting) our current home with confidence so we're in no particular hurry to take action. Also, we have a 2 month old. And reliable child care for the 3 year old -- who would leave? In the meantime, we've been taking advantage of the FMLA to catch up on All the Stuff That Needs to Be Done Around the House -- replacing and repairing doors, floors (finally, the ant problem has been completely fixed now that all the rotted wood is gone), painting, etc. Gutters are on their way. But that would be more the kind of thing that would be covered in a Holmes on Homes marathon. Clean House has inspired an ongoing bin shuffle, and recently I've moved on to clearing off the accumulated crap on top of bookcases and arranging Decorative Items there in an appealing fashion, instead of just wherever they fit. Hey, it's a very appealing looking 1.5 square feet or so. Don't knock it.
What Not to Wear, by contrast, has resulted in a far more extensive post-partum wardrobe rejuvenation than I had initially intended. I figured if I had a whole lot of clothes I Really Really Liked, there's at least a chance that Murphy will cooperate by helping me shrink out of them.
The Biggest Loser is an ongoing encouragement to go visit the treadmill in the basement. True to form, it's a lot harder to avoid chocolate. Ah, well.