At-man: “Cam’s mommy goes to Mommy School. He told me at lunch.” (She went back to college)

Me: “Did you tell him what your mommy does?”

At-man: “yup.”

Me: “What did you tell him?”

At-man: “Laundry.”

In one of the strangest events to unfold here as of late, our maid has actually dumped us. Really, it’s not us, it’s her. She apparently just cannot see this relationship going any further. She was to clean Monday morning but fled when she found out we would actually be home, rendering her unable to watch our T.V., shuffle through our drawers and eat chocolates, which is how I suppose her teeth met their fate. I know it’s all for the best. At least now I won’t have to put up with the weird, fake, redneck laugh she used to respond to every single thing I ever said to her.

When she scattered Monday morning it was with the promise she would return and clean that very afternoon. She never did. I was concerned that something tragic had happened , being a mostly toothless, overweight 50 something, well, you just never know what ill fate could have befallen her.

The only thing that really bugs me about the whole situation is that she still will not say exactly what the problem was. Knowing that her client roster is made up entirely of elderly, retired widows I guess it just goes without saying that our house was probably the only one that needed any actual cleaning done. I’d have probably bailed on us too if the rest of my week was a veritable cake-walk and I had to wrap it up by shifting the entire contents of Toys R Us around just to run the vacuumed. Still, it burns my butt that she disappeared the way that she did.

It really does feel like being dumped (not that I’d know). I just want to ride my bike back and forth behind her 1982 Mazda covered in “Jesus Loves Me” bumper stickers with a rear windshield full of bobble headed dogs while it’s parked in front of my less “high maintenance” neighbors house. I want to hand write her a note on loose leaf paper asking “Why?!” “Why have you dumped us five days before At-man’s 4th birthday party?”(a party to be attended by a slew of other mommies who all have maids that do their jobs).

Now I know as well as anyone that there are much bigger issues to deal with in the world right now. “How sad, the poor little hipster mom lost her maid. Boo Hoo.” you might say. To this I say ” I work, I volunteer, and I do actually clean my house. I clean my own kitchen at least 4 times a day! I simply need help with the yucky stuff for which I have no time.” I could either pay someone to do my job at the office, or pay someone to clean my house. Guess which one is cheaper.

Now I am left to wonder…just how does one get over being dumped by their maid? A pint of Haagen-Dazs and endless hours of old Liz Phair and extremely slow Elvis Costello songs? A night of Cosmopolitans and bar dancing? There seems to be no appropriate answer to this question. I guess only time will heal this broken heart.

You would think that having a blog would make writing about myself a no brainer but aparently that isn’t the case. We are doing a new website at the office with a few sentences about everyone beside a picture on the “team” page. How in the world do you say a “few sentences” about yourself? The funny thing is, who the hell is actually going to read this stuff? Why can I not think of a single thing to say? I have photographed everyone from prostitutes to drag queens, hung out with rock stars…there is no shortage of interesting stuff to say, none of which can be conveyed in a few sentences.

You may have (or probably not have) noticed that I have been a bit slack on the blogging deal as of late. I think I have just had so much going on latley it’s been hard to concentrate and write. Between dealing with the kids, working with a new accountant for the office, and the fact that our maid dumped us (more on that later), there hasn’t been a moment to think about anything else.

I’m sorry this post isn’t about anything more intresting but sometimes it just helps me to get something out there. Write a little about nothing and more is bound to come. I hate to rant but, it’s my blog so deal with it. And check back soon, I’m bound to think of something to actually say sooner or later.

You have not been forgotten, it’s just that it is an unusually warm January. So warm in fact, that each and every night the deck beckons to me. It says “Please grab a glass of pinot and linger all night. Since it is January I am sure it is only a matter of time for the cold to return, forcing a return to the computer desk. Until then…it’s party time. Please stay tunned…

When Hipster D was originally pondering what to get Hipster Mom for Christmas, there was only one obvious choice. I have wanted a treadmill for as long as I can remember. This is the first Christmas we have actually had enough room in the house to really consider it. That is, if we finally moved Em out of the master bedroom.

Every parent has a little way they indulge their kids, some go so far as to let them rule the house. For D and I , we let them take over our room. At-man stayed in the nest until his second birthday. He still sneaks inbetween us every night around 1 or 2am. Em had yet to move out, and until the mention of a treadmill there wasn’t any rush.

When we moved into this house, I remember telling D, “This bedroom was actually built for a treadmill.” and I still feel this way. It is WIDE. If you didn’t have a crib, or a treadmill it would look bare and un-home like. Knowing that Em would one day have to move out, I’m sure Hipster D felt almost obligated to find the right fill for the space.

My in-laws have had a perfectly good treadmill taking up much space in their garage for years. We had asked several times if it needed a good home but they held on to the illusion that one day it would again be loved. Finally they decided to give in. D moved on from having to buy a treadmill for Chrsitmas, to buying gift cards to fabulous stores that I want to shop at after a little fine tuning.

I understand that many people receive exercise equipment every holiday season, only to find their love fleeting. I can honestly say, I am like a hamster. I can run in place for hours, just enjoying the break. Our only problem now, the merging of two brothers.

We made the big move tonight. My father in law now actually has enought space to set up his table saw, he’s happy. I can tell my gym to stick it, I’m happy. D knows I am happiest when I am running, he’s happy. The boys are sharing a bedroom. Not so happy.

When we were doing the big furniture shuffle, Em kept walking in our bedroom and laying down on the belt, looking up with those “What’s with the weird new bed?” eyes. When I finally laid him down for the night, he cried until he made himself sick. When I picked him up to clean up the crib, he ran right to my room and once agian, laid down on the treadmill.

At-man declared he will never again have any fun in his room. I replied that I didn’t want him to have fun, I wanted him to sleep. As an only child, I remember dreaming of having a sister to share a room with. I guess we will never really be able to understand each other on this one, but I hope one day they will thank us for forcing the issue.

They are currently both sound asleep in their shared bedroom. D and I will be able to go to sleep in our very own room for the first time in years, but I think that’s how we keep getting into trouble. Stay tuned…