Safe Eating

A lot of people think I CAN'T cook. It's not that I can't. It's that I DON'T. There's a big difference. 

When Brock and I first got married, I tried my hand at some homecooked recipes I grew up on (my "soul food"). My husband was nice about it, but didn't seem to really care for my cooking style. I would make a meal, set the table and sit there, end up waiting for hours alone will when he unexpectedly got caught at work. At first, I would wait for him to eat, but soon realized it wasn't worth letting my hard-cooked meal get cold. How depressing is that? So I would clean up, watch a show and go to bed with leftovers in the fridge never to be touched that night until I ate them the next day. It was like I was offering him poison which I still don't understand to this day.

So I gave up once his practice took off and I hired a personal chef. He would eat all of HER meals. Sometimes I would sneak in a few of those early recipes I made him personally -- just to see what would happen -- and he would gobble them up because our CHEF made them! [ insert frustrations boiling over again ] Because SHE made them or SHE endorsed them, somehow they were "safe" to eat.

Now he emails his weekly meal plan to our daytime chef for her grocery list. I never know what he's eating or not eating. He is looking really good, but that just makes me feel even worse about the one extra pound I have to lose right now. Sometimes I'm embarrassed to go with him to functions where his colleagues might see me and feel sorry for him like he ended up with a "frump girl." At least I don't wear yoga pants IN PUBLIC (like some of their wives do).

Stressful Amazoning

Today was super stressful. I had to find gifts on Amazon that my dad and husband would like for Father's Day. The most stressful part was trying to find things they would like AND that had Prime shipping to arrive by Saturday. I usually don't forget to schedule gift buying with my personal shopper, but somehow this slipped my mind. About 10 minutes into my frantic online search, I found myself stress eating a bag of Cheeto puffs. Could someone please get these puffs away from me??

Well, success, but now I have to stress the delivery. I'll be watching all my cameras on our entrance like a hawk on Saturday, and will have my guard be on high alert too. If my packages don't arrive on time, I will personally email Jeff Bezos and let him have it.

New Correct Term

This is VERY interesting. I just learned something new while Googling and thought I would share:

"Gestational carriers and surrogates are not the same, a surrogate is someone who donates her egg and then subsequently carries the child; she is genetically linked to that baby. Today, such cases of true surrogacy are very rare.  In the case of a gestational carrier, the woman carrying the pregnancy is in no way biologically related to the child she is carrying; the eggs and sperm are derived from the "intended parents" (or possibly an egg or sperm donor), through the process of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF). The egg is fertilized in the lab, and then the embryo (or embryos) is placed into the uterus of the gestational carrier."

Source: PRnewswire.com

So all this time with Amelia's baby, I should have been referring to the girl as her "Gestational Carrier." I'm SO embarrassed I used the incorrect term, but I'm too tired to go back and change all of my previous posts. Moving forward, I'll be using "GC" when talking about other friends' babies (or maybe even possibly one of my own?).

A Surprising Phone Call

Hallelujah there are only two games max left in the NBA Finals. Brock has been working CRAZY hours these past few weeks. Don't get me wrong. Business has been GREAT for him, but it's taken a toll on ME physically at home. He's been calling home asking me to watch the entire games to see if his clients are behaving appropriately from my angle. And to see if his hard work is paying off. (If you don't remember what he does, read here.)

Since holding Amelia's new baby, I can't get that angelic face out of my head. I had something stir inside of me before on Sunday night that I've never experienced before. When Brock called earlier today, here's what unfolded:

HIM: "Hey babe. I'm so tired. How are you?"

ME: [ Unplanned, I blurted out:] "I want a BABY!"

HIM: "Huh? A baby what? Did you say the animal already? The connection must have cut up."

ME: "A REAL baby, Brock. Like a tiny human."

There. I said it. I've NEVER NOT wanted to be selfish IN. MY. LIFE. I can't believe I'm sharing this new burning desire with the world wide interwebs. Brock has been on the road a lot lately and I'm due to ovulate around the time he gets home next week. I can't believe I am even thinking this! I'll share that, but I will NOT disclose my real age publicly. 

I never planned to have kids, but Brock married me anyway. So I never entertained anything baby before and definitely NOT using my own body to house something like that. Maybe I'll just casually start interviewing surrogates...?

Two Months!

I can't believe I've already been blogging for TWO months (as of last Saturday, June 8). I would have written this tribute to myself earlier, but the baby news has kind of taken priority.

In TWO months, I have gotten on the Top 100 Housewife Blogs (I'm #62); bought the group gift and drop shipped a palette of baby merchandise to Amelia; lived through Amelia's surrogate's labor and delivery story; have started helping another friend plan her second wedding; survived another successful year of "Peanut Butter and Jealous"; have started/grown my blog's Pinterest boards + pins (and have been re-pinned); imparted A LOT of wisdom from my own experiences/high end tastes; and the list goes on.

Thank you for reading, believing in ME and focusing ON ME!

Hospital Visit

The past few days have been emotionally exhausting for me with the arrival of Amelia's daughter. What a surreal experience for Amelia to now have to think of someone other than herself. I honestly don't know how that is even possible.

Anyway, as I was getting ready to go paddle boarding on Sunday morning with my instructor, I got a text from the new mother:

NEW MOM: "Hey! Are you up?"

ME: "Yes. I'm about to get in the ocean. Why?"

NEW MOM: "Do you want to come to the hospital?"

ME: "What?! Are you serious?"

NEW MOM: "Don't get in that fish toilet. Go home, take a shower, do a quick cleanse and detox, get a flu shot (if you're not current), and wash your hands 20 times before you come in clean clothes."

ME: "OK."

NEW MOM: "P.S.- My night nurse doesn't start until after we get home, so I'm super tired and witchy today from being up all night. #NeedaDietCoke

Visiting hours were almost over by the time I got everything done on Amelia's mandatory visitor's check list. I finally walked into the room and then had to wash my hands for the 21st time. After, I sat down in a germ-infested hospital chair. Two seconds later, I was holding THE TINIEST human being I had ever seen.

Honestly, I've never thought new babies were pretty. Everyone says "beautiful" to be nice, but think about it. Traveling through the birth canal is basically traveling to hell and back except they are coming from heaven. Personally, I'm glad I have blocked that experience from my memory. Babies are always so cranky and covered in white stuff and blood right after birth (I've been told). So I pictured I would be holding a screaming, bloody baby with white stuff all over it still. That's why I was reluctant to wear clean, high end clothes.

But NO. This baby was clean, swaddled up, had a gigantic bow on her head, asleep and peaceful. Huh. I was NOT expecting that.

It's a BABY GIRL!

It's a BABY GIRL! Amelia's surrogate delivered a healthy, beautiful baby GIRL! (They knew the gender ahead of time, but didn't tell anyone to leave people on the edge of their seats.)

I am SO, SO, SO, SO HAPPY it's a girl because that means I can now officially buy all of the super cute baby girl clothes I've been eyeing these past six months at Janie and Jack. Every baby deserves high end clothing from the start. They shouldn't be punished for not being able to control their bodily fluids thus being forced to wear anything of lesser quality OR heaven forbid, hand-me-downs.

Honestly, if Amelia had had a boy, I wouldn't have bought anything. Boy baby clothes aren't nearly as cute. Lucky for her, I've already scheduled a drop shipment of all super high end and necessary baby products. I've heard a really nice wipe warmer is a MUST. The palette delivery will arrive the day they get discharged from the hospital.

I heard the professional hospital baby pictures went smoothly. Amelia has already decided on a soy regimen for the baby as she will NOT be sacrificing her body even for nursing. She's being really conscientious and does not want to make her husband disappointed in her gaining any baby weight (which I think is really admirable).

[P.S. - Speaking of her husband, he asked me to not put his child's info or stats on the web. I can respect that. HOWEVER can't anyone just go look up that info in a County office a few weeks from now? What's the big deal? It's called a PUBLIC RECORD.]

If you ever need a quick pick-me-up to FEEL BETTER, binge order baby girl clothes online. You'll end up giving them to someone down the line. It feels soooo good!

Mason Jars

Whoa. I just realized it's already Friday and I haven't provided any encouragement on how to FEEL BETTER all week. I'm sorry! I've just been SO BUSY and SO consumed with myself and writing about how I met my hubs, my friend going into labor (update soon), firing my shrink and getting on that Top 100 Housewife Blogs list (I'm #62). It's been a crazy week.

Anyway, I've been helping another friend pick out flowers for her upcoming second wedding. I think I might SCREAM if I see another mason jar. Those are soooo overdone. There comes a time on everyone's Pinterest pages when you just need to MOVE ON from the wedding trends of 2008-2012. You know me and you know much I love that website, but I feel VERY strongly about this. So strongly, in fact, that I created this new board on my Pinterest that I'll be adding more to over time: Overdone Wedding Ideas

Stork Delivery?!

Amelia woke me up this morning at 5:15 a.m. calling me frantically saying she felt like she was going into labor. What that translates to is she felt like her SURROGATE might be going into labor. Why? She told me, "I peed my pants when I got up this morning for my 20-mile run. That's never happened to me before. I think the baby is coming."

So I told her to hang up with ME and call the girl carrying her child. The girl didn't pick up. Amelia called me back all panicky again. I told her to calm down, trust her soon-to-be mother's intuition and just show up on her doorstep, demanding she grab the Louis Vuitton hospital bag that Amelia gave/packed for her, and take her straight to the hospital -- NO stopping at Starbucks.

[NOTE: I've never had a baby, but that's what I've heard other friends have done with their surrogates.]

Amelia jumped in her Rover (after her on-call hair stylist and makeup artist did her full hair and makeup for professional hospital baby pics -- they finished around 11:00 a.m.), picked up her surrogate and headed in the direction of the nicest hospital in all of OC. Her surrogate kept telling Amel she felt just fine and to take her home.

Well, my friend went AGAINST my counsel and thought maybe if the prego lady really was feeling fine, she'd stop and get her first latte of the day at her preferred 'bucks. She ordered her surrogy a water cup. As they pulled through the drive-thru and Amelia handed her impregnated passenger the water while still looking at the drive-thru attendant. Right then, she heard a gush of water. She turned to see if she had dropped the cup, but really the girl's water had broken!!! Never mind all the gross amniotic fluid now all over those leather seats, Amelia and I BOTH knew the baby was coming. And I haven't even been to my psychic in a while! (She used to rub off on me when I went.) Isn't that so amazing?!

They rushed to the hospital right after that. I can't wait to be an Auntie!

Top 100 Housewife Blogs

GREAT NEWS ALERT!! I got an email yesterday saying my blog was selected by a panelist as now one of the

Top 100 Housewife Blogs 

on the web. Already?! I've only been blogging for almost two months and really not surprised I would get this honor so soon, but STILL! I'm #62 on the list.

What's even MORE exciting is that I'm on the SAME list as The Pioneer Woman!!!! I don't personally cook or anything, but love to see how much butter she uses in her recipes and see her super cute country kitchen décor (like her mixer).

NO Negativity

I literally cannot believe what just happened this morning. [ Insert fuming emoji face here ] Get this: My therapist called me a narcissist. She said all I do is talk about ME, think about ME and only do what's best for ME. That is absurd and NOT true, so I fired her on-the-spot. I can't deal with that kind of negativity.

Little does she know how much I think of OTHERS, I... stress over what others think of me; think about who's liking my posts/tweets/pins; wonder how people are going to react to my new outfits; anticipate what they'll say to my husband about how lucky he is to have me; enjoy the praise I receive from others; appreciate how people feel sorry for me that my own sister and parents aren't more adoring of me (they don't know how lucky they are to be related to me -- that's a WHOLE other story!); etc. 

I think about OTHER people ALL. THE. TIME!

How We Met

Brock has been SO busy lately with the NBA Finals. He's been stressed with getting all of his new clients ready in time for the games. (If you're lost right now, here's the backstory.) Anyway, some readers have asked if I would share how we met. I was planning to do this at some point, so I guess I'll share this sooner than later.

We actually met in court. I had a trespasser on my property. By "trespasser," I mean my old friend "Corinne" (can't use her actual name per my attorney). A few years ago, she stopped by one night to bring me some "homemade" cookies. (And by "homemade," I mean she personally cut up a store-bought roll of cookie dough and burned each cookies to a crisp.) 

We ended up getting in a fight on my doorstep. Why? Well, while I was out of COUNTRY, she had poached my personal shopper offering her more money and better perks in my peak season of holiday shopping. (I start every August.) I came home to the news and was LIVID. I threw the paper plate of cookies at her as she was starting to go down my brick steps. As she turned back to yell something else at me, her ankle twisted and she fell HARD on her arm and face. She broke her arm on my walkway! To add insult to her injury, she turned around and sued ME for her accident on MY property. Ugh.

So I had to go to court. One day, Corinne's attorney asked for her orthopaedic surgeon to testify about her arm. When he was called up to the stand, I'll NEVER forget the first time I laid eyes on Brock. [STAGE DIRECTION: Cue heavenly angels singing and light shining on him directly from heaven above.] 

Our eyes locked and that's when I knew he was "The One." It was obviously mutual. Dr. Brock approached me at the break, got my number and within a few days of the trial ending, we were having dinner at Ruth's Chris. (That was in 2008.)

We spent every night together after that (either in person or via Skype). I also knew he was the one for me when he shared his story about growing up in an orphanage. Sad, huh? Against all odds, he accomplished his dreams and started his own practice fixing broken bones.

It wasn't the accomplishing his dreams part that got me, but the orphanage. It was then I realized that if things worked out, I would NEVER have to deal with a mother-in-law. He was a one-man band. He had NO parents and NO siblings which meant NO in-laws for me! He was my "Dream Guy" in every way possible.

We've now been married for eight years, and happily married for about five.

Coastal Seafood ONLY

I've been on a food kick this weekend with my posts and pins, so thought I would share this important information:

I'm assuming everyone already knows that you NEVER eat seafood when it smells fishy. That means it's already going bad. 

Well, I like to take it one step further and tell everyone I know to NEVER eat seafood UNLESS you're sitting somewhere looking at the OCEAN. That's when you know it's REALLY fresh. 

I NEVER go inland to eat seafood. Not even 10 miles in. Unless you're ON THE COAST with salt water in view, STAY AWAY. You'll FEEL BETTER by doing yourself, your body and your health insurance company a favor. Avoiding any unnecessary illness or ER visits.

(P.S.- NEVER buy a shrimp platter from a grocery store. It's best if you buy it at a fish market not long after it has come off the boat and been cleaned. If you must, Costco is the next best option. I must admit, their $12 shrimp platters are divine.)

Sharing My High End Pins

I FINALLY started a Pinterest account for this blog. I did it mainly so people like Amelia's mother-in-law can take a hint on how to plan a baby shower using this much needed resource in our digital world. (see my Ideas for My Friends' Baby Showers board)

I'm a little stressed that the screen shot above looks a little fuzzy, but at least it helps you easily find ME. Please Follow Me and Share My High End Pins! My boards already look ahhh-mazing. Sharing my high end tastes with you is a privilege FOR YOU. So take advantage of this rare opportunity.