Once Upon a Potty

I am very proud to say that Lyla did her first poop today on the potty. Training this child to go pee, much less poop has been a real challenge. Lyla is not a great transitioner, and as her teacher's will also point out, she doesn't love to go from one thing to another if she's not ready. This has made making time for the potty a little hard. For a while, we would ask, and she would say no, she hated big girl underwear, and she never cared if she was wet, full of poop, or peeing right on the floor. We cheered her when she did it, read stories, talked about the high life of being able to pee and poop on the potty or toilet. All of the eureka things parents say your child won't tolerate, Lyla has. I've heard M&M's work, but my 411 book (which I swear by) says no amount of M&Ms will coax your kid to the potty if they don't care if they're dirty.

We didn't push it, and I went with the advice to let her do it when she was ready to start. However, almost all of the kids in her "young twos" class are potty trained. A few can still barely talk, and they're peeing and pooping. I know she's smart enough, and gets it, believe me. Last week we drove past the museum where we took our Christmas card photos in November (haven't been back since), and Lyla said, "That's where I walked with Zu Zu and Ali, and Daddy wore his furry orange hat." We couldn't believe she remembered the whole scene after six months with never a mention from us. If she could remember that, she could remember how to sit her wee ass on the hole and wizz.

Two and a half weeks ago, I left her pants and underwear and diaper off all morning, and asked her 100 times an hour if she needed to go. She actually went a few times, including the women's room at Panera Bread. As an aside, Lyla will do anything at Panera Bread. I should get a job there, and keep her around all the time. Or, I should start inviting everyone that comes to our house there for a bite, so they can see the angelic Panera Lyla. It's her safe haven. She is always polite and nice to everyone there (she is going through a very rude to new people phase which is highly unpleasant), she eats all her food, she laughs and entertains herself. It's just great. So, it was no surprise that she both peed and washed her hands there.

I had Jean keep it up with her, and the trend started. In the last few weeks she's been going pretty consistently on the potty, and isn't begging for her diaper as she would in the past. She has had a few slip-ups, but that is to be expected. Actually, last week Trent was away, and in the morning while I was on the potty myself, Lyla crawled onto our bed. When I joined her in there, she started jumping on top of the bed (with no pants on). Next thing you know, she states that she's peeing, and in an instant, she pees all over the duvet cover, duvet, and sheets, all with a sinister laugh. When Lyla pees, it's like a guy, she points it all up, and it streams out in an arc. I don't know how she does it. Needless to say her proud pee was everywhere. We had to have a little talk after that since I knew she knew what was up. She decided to have a pee party, and she knew what she was doing. Don't get me started on her euqally proud use of the word Jesus lately.

Anyway, we're really happy she's on a good run, and have started keeping her in underwear all day, and she's started to go on her own, and also tell us. We haven't done bed time or car yet (except the short run to Panera). Yesterday, Jean told me she said she had to go, and when Jean took her, she had already pooped. However, it was great that she said something. So, today, I get into work, and have a message from Jean with good news. She left Lyla on the potty while making her a drink, and when she returned, a poop! Ta da. It's a miracle.

We can only keep pooping from here folks.

Gray on My Mind

I have been so into gray lately. We recently reconstructed my mother-in-law's house, and we chose two lovely shades of gray for the walls that I just adore. It feels so fresh against her dark wood floors.

I am going through a house decor crisis right now (see before pic of living room to the right). I am trying to pare down the first floor to make more room, make it feel simpler, richer, and better. I am trying to go piece by piece, but it's very hard to me. Once I get my mind on something, I want it done and finished right away. I did start with a new Micthell Gold + Bob Williams sofa, that I am highly satisfied with (pictured in living room inspiration board below). They have such great pieces, and this leather sofa is no exception. We had leather before (see above), so most people haven't even noticed the difference, but this is a much more modern style, and fit for my soon-to-be renovated room. We also got a new square dining room table, which has proven to deliver at dinner parties. We comfortably sat eight last Saturday, and all of us faced each other and conversed as if we were all right next to each other. This is the beauty of the rare square. Think about it.

Now that the square is in, everything else is out. The chairs don't match, the liquor table (as I call it) competes, and the wall colors and possibly even my beloved window treatments look off. I've put a few quick and not so nicely designed inspiration boards together, which I've shared, but it could be a long hall to get it done.

However, my first order of business is to paint. My dining room is chocolate brown, and the living room, house entry, up the stairs and upstairs hallway are all a latte.


I want it all lightish gray, with the trim re-painted white to pop. I'm reupholstering our green courd chair from Anthro (seen above in before pic) in a blue linen which I'm already in love with and it hasn't even happened yet.

I've included a video from our friends at Shine Collective to demonstrate the pared down style and color I am aiming for. I conveniently received this video today as I was pondering how such a re-do would affect my pocketbook. To the left is my new table (it's much darker in the flesh) with comfy upholstered options for seating in there. I don't typically include prices in my boards for public consumption, but this was going to my sister for her judgment and approval, since I never make a move without her consent, so I have the prices in there.

A change is brewing, I just need to see how fast I can get it done and out of my system. Goodbye clutter (except our pack rat disgusting abyss of a basement), hello simplicity.

Happy Birthday to Me!

As I get older, I like to treat myself to my own birthday gifts. Ones I know will please me, ones I don't have to return, or ask for, or even tell anyone about. This year, I am telling.

I bought these flats on Tuesday, and I've worn them every day since. They are super comfy, classic, and match just about everything. This is probably why they are my third pair of patent leather flats, with a gold adornment on them.

These shoes make me want to eat gelato with a dainty spoon, or pair up with a boy skirt and cashmere cardigan, or sit cross-legged with my feet on my desk.

I don't wear flats often, so these little guys are special.

If only I could do something about that alabaster skin.

I Hate it on Everything

I hate balsamic vinaigrette. It tastes terrible on everything, and yet every place serves it. Why?
To be honest, I really don't like balsamic vinegar either. It is so strong, and smells like dirt, rain, ironing water, ammonia, and school cafeteria all at once.

The guys I work just brought me a delightful salad with greens, strawberries, apples, turkey, walnuts and mandarin oranges. I couldn't wait to dig in, when I saw the dreaded little brown container of dressing. The balsamic vinaigrette. My day was practically ruined. Luckily, the squash I steamed with my eggs this morning was an absolute delight, or the whole day would have been a culinary wash.

I also hate dry salad, so I reluctantly poured the horrible sauce onto it. Now everything tastes and smells like it. The saving grace is the strawberries, whose sweet goodness counteracts the vinegar's cannibalism over everything else.

The only balsamic that is good, is really expensive and/or good quality balsamic. I bought a tiny bottle of balsamic in the Outer Banks of NC this summer for about $15. It has a very potent, sweet flavor to it, and doesn't taste like vinegar at all. It's the only kind I have dared to add to salad, or japanese pears (with gorgonzola--yay!), or other soft cheeses. You only need a few drops to make a big impact. I think once or twice I've had good balsamic in nicer restaurants because I haven't gagged when it arrives, but I've never bought it for us for fear it will be as gross as the cheap kind. I did buy my sister-in-law Helen's parents a bottle a few years ago for about $60. I wonder how it was. I should ask for a splash next time I see them.

A cheap balsamic, which is served at most take-out type cafes is always the same and always awful--guaranteed.
You know when you go into an Italian restaurant, and you are so psyched when the bread gets delivered nice and warm, with a napkin on top perhaps? The nice waiter pours some olive oil for you in a dish, adds a little salt and crushed pepper. You're just about to wipe the plate clean with the warm treat when he hits it with a splash of balsamic. What the...
It's always a svengali move. It comes from nowhere. It's just on the plate. I don't even think the waiter walks up to the table with it in his hands. He must hind it knowing he's about to ruin your pre-meal bliss. It goes from the best moment of your life, to the worst in just one pour. We all know how much we enjoy something free at a restaurant before the meal too. Whether it be bread (good or bad it doesn't matter), olives, or the occasional gherkin, soft pretzel, or even an amuse bouche. We love it. So, to take all that joy away is a crime in my book. They probably do it so you limit your bread intake.

Don't even get me started on how balsamic it ruins every drink, especially red wine. It's like having two red wines. One terrible, and one worse than terrible. You know how they say no wine goes with Chinese food? No anything goes with balsamic vinegar. End of story. Goodbye, Mrs. Gloop. Adieu. Auf wiedersehen. Gesundheit. Farewell.

The Bee's Knees

Honestly, with all of the minis, maxis, and mods, I'm finding it hard to find anything I can wear. None of these looks are a look for Jen. In fact, last week at work in LA I wore a dress that fell just above my knee, and I was so self conscious all day thay I'm not sure I will ever wear it again. Short skirts look amazin on girls with really skinny legs. Girls like me don't look good in short skirts. It's a simple fact. The other thing is, even when I had skinny legs, I never had knees. Some girls have em, so don't. I don't. I keep trying to explain to Trent hat this means, and he just shakes his head. It has nothing to do with having skinny legs, it has everything to do with having bony knees. No matter what, a girl with bony knees always looks better in skirts or shorts than one without knees. Let me demonstrate. To our left are bony knees. These are knees you can see no matter what the rest of the leg looks like. I have also included a picture of Kate Moss, a model who has bony knees. Her knees look that much better because they are bony. I would give up chocolate for life (one of life's great pleasures) to have knees like this.

Then there are those without knees, like me, and many, many others.
Your legs can still look good, but they'll never look AS good as a bony kneed girl. So, to the left, is a regular, non-bony knee.



As skinny as these legs are, they are not bony and shapely like Kate's. Can you see the difference?






I will illustrate this on the model to the right, Tyra Banks. She has no knees. Take away that this is the world's most heavily airbrushed picture, and her legs also look shiny white, and a lot like one of Lyla's cut-out dolls. Focus on the knees. There aren't any. There is plenty of boob; just no knees. That's me. Sans the plenty of boob. No knees Walter.

What's Wrong With This Picture?

Does anyone agree that Kelly Killoren Bensimon (from the Real Housewives of New York) has the freakiest boobs in the world? Obviously, she had a boob job, but what I ask myself is...did she want them to look small, and perhaps natural (not that in any way am I saying they look real)? I think she did had the same idea Blake Lively did--I want them to be bigger than they are without looking like really big boobs. Instead ended up with a lopsided set, with a gargantuan space in between. Now, as annoying and horrific as this orange woman is, she is usually pretty fashionable. People in fashion typically shun the big round boob. In fact, a shapeless, chestless physique is preferred.
That's mystery number one. Mystery number two is, could she not know that she received the worst boob job in the history of boob jobs? Not only are they so creepy and weird shaped, but they look even worse in clothes.

When I saw that she was going to be in Playboy, I thought about how they would try to make these boobs look good. Maybe they had her push them together cross armed? I saw a few of the pics from the shoot, but they were all of her ass, which if I had, I might actually say to hell with it, I'll keep these awful boobs because I have been blessed with the perfect ass. Sometimes, I wish there was such a thing as wishes, because I would surely ask for a great body. It would be a toss-up between world peace and a Victoria's Secret-type body of someone like Ana-Beatriz-Barros.

Summer breeze, makes me feel fine...

...blowing through the jasmine in my mind. Anyone remember that number? If not, youre either too old or too young.

I stumbled across this lovely photo today, and it reminded me of the cheerful weather we're having, the coming of summer, and that scene in Creepshow 2 (which I watched religiously back in the day) where the blob sucks up college students out on a diving platform at a lake/swimming hole. Classic horror.

Enjoy your weekend, wherever it may take you.