It's been a year since we moved, and I still haven't adjusted to the Orange County housewife gig. I remain, as far as I can tell, the only housewife around town that drives a Honda Odyssey van but isn't someone's housekeeper. I'm probably the most plus-sized housewife in town. I've had no injections other than that for the flu shot. I have been known to wear Old Navy flip-flops to the grocery store. I don't have a housekeeper. OK, not yet, but need help with this big house and wicked arthritis. I don't like spas. I do my own mani/pedi and not on a regular basis. I live in a small city that doesn't allow door-to-door solicitors other than by those who have applied for a permit to do so here, and even then homeowners can opt out, but a few still sneak around town. I never knew such a thing existed as a city-wide ban on solicitors. This week one of the sneaky variety came to the door and, as usual, I was dressed for the studio and had plaster all over my hands. He said he was stopping by to chat with the homeowner about reducing electric bills. I stopped him and told him I was not the homeowner and they weren't home, that I was the cat nanny. He muttered "cat nanny" and made a notation on his little clipboard and said he'd come by another time. He took it seriously. O.M.G. Now I'm actually looking forward to the next sneaky solicitor and have to come up with something better than cat nanny since I Googled it and there ARE cat nannies! What ever happened to just plain old pet sitters?
On the mom front, the empty nest thing remains a mixed bag of emotions. The kids are both old enough that even when we're home together, we aren't really together. My son is usually holed up in his room playing video games (insisting that it is now related to his college major of software engineering, and thus qualifies as in-depth and intense study time that should not be disrupted with silliness like meals) along with making it dirtier. The older of the two is usually busy studying (for real) for her last semester of grad school if she's home at all with her busy work and school schedule. Me, I'm scooping the litterbox again. Ah, the joys of motherhood.
On the art front, the week has been slow in terms of creative time. My husband accompanied me to the Road to California quilt show which was extraordinarily crowded. I couldn't decide which I needed more after the first aisle, an air horn or a martini. There were a lot fewer quilts showing and a lot more vendors than in years past, but it was still worth the trip. This week I'm busy painting a bathroom, once again with a looming party as the impetus to get something done. I haven't painted in our house myself for about two years and had forgotten the icky stench of primer and the nausea that comes with it when in a small room with it for hours. Blech. The priming is done; I'll paint tomorrow. Then I think we won't have a party for a while because this is not fun anymore.
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