An affinity for bags.

I don’t know if it’s a natural love of purses that has sprouted in our Lolo, or if it’s an outgrowth of seeing me packing, carrying and using diaper bags consistently, but she’s hooked either way.

It first came up when a mom at one of our playgroups this week brought a small reusable lunch bag that looked more like a miniature shoulder bag. Lolo was enthralled. She wanted to carry it, throw it over her arm and in general, just bask in the “bag-ness” of it all.

Then I gave her a small paper shopping bag that Matt picked up when he bought some shaving cream. You can see in this video how the act of putting it on her arm is what makes it all so magical for her. It’s what makes a bag, a bag. (Just ignore the radio in the background.)

How do I manage to complicate things so …?

This is the complicated way to avoid getting a real Christmas tree. I don’t know how I manage to make things more complicated than they need to be in my specific quest to simplify. But, I do it consistently, and I do it well.

I didn’t want a big Christmas tree this year even though it will be Lolo’s first. In my defense, it would only be up for a week before we left town, and I didn’t want to spend that week vacuuming tree needles and convincing Lolo that it was not for eating.

I wasn’t a complete scrooge, I just wanted a tabletop tree. So, sue me. Matt wanted a full fledged tree but didn’t have the energy to protest especially since he knew I would be the one on the front lines wielding the vacuum.

The weekend after Thanksgiving, we took a trip to Home Depot in search of the family tree. However, because it was the first weekend after the holiday and we didn’t make it to the store until Sunday afternoon, the supplies were more than low, they were non-existent. They did not have one tree that was under 6-feet tall. And, the ornamental shrub trees they had were only suitable for sitting on your front porch railing.

Fast forward to the next weekend. We sought out Lowes this time figuring their poor store location may lead to more tree selection. And, we played it safe and went on a Saturday morning. Again, no luck. We seemed to always be 10 minutes behind a group of fanatical tabletop tree shoppers bussed out from the city searching for their perfect studio apartment tree. Our only options were three pathetic “tabletop” trees that looked like branches cut from larger trees that were stood on end to look like something that was worth $20. Buuuuuuut … there were also three “holiday spruces” that were meant to be planted outdoors. (Yes, they were giant shrub trees.) My idea was to buy an outdoor planter and bring the “tree” in for a week and then plant it outside after the holiday. We could dress it up, put lights on it and then have a living tree after all was said and done.

We didn’t think we had any other options. Time on Lolo’s good shopping cart mood was running low and there was no way we could make it to Home Depot without a meltdown. So, we went with it. I also bought a 17-inch plastic spill tray that would catch the water overflow when I watered the tree indoors.

Really, if you think about it, I was being incredibly environmentally friendly. Renewable Christmas tree shrubs are the way of the future. Just you wait, you’ll see Cameron Diaz and Leo DiCaprio doing it in US Weekly next year.

Later that afternoon just as it was getting dark, I decided to transfer the tree to the planter and bring it indoors. It’s fun planting a giant shrub tree in wooden planter in the dark when it’s 20 degrees out. Really.

Matt and I hauled it in while Lolo watched from her high chair. We placed it on the plastic saucer that would catch the draining water and the wooden planter just smashed it. The outer edge of the planter was at least 6-inches wider than the 17-inch dish. And, no, I didn’t check to see if the dish fit the planter beforehand. That’s far too logical.

(Sidenote: Matt had to run out while Lolo was napping earlier that day to get soil to plant the tree and wouldn’t you know it … Home Depot had a plethora of small trees ranging in size, shape, price, beauty, astrological sign, etc. They couldn’t have had more of a variety of small trees.)

In the end, we have a lighted tree and a good story of Lolo’s first Christmas.

Oh, lighted shrub.

Stella stella bella bo bella

Cranky

It’s been wicked cold these past few days and both Lolo and I are fighting some sort of bug. (I know that my fine friends north of the border and west of the Rockies are simultaneously rolling their eyes as I comment on how cold it is at 19 degrees. No, it’s not the coldest place ever, but an Old Navy polar fleece isn’t gonna get you through the day either.)

We’ve been cooped up inside either for cold weather or relentless rain. And, Lolo has been banned from playdates until the river of snot recedes a bit from her nostrils. Needless to say, I’m a bit stir-crazy.

I try not to complain on my blog as I reserve that for conversations with my loved ones. <wink> But, I took yesterday afternoon as a sign that it was time and also perfectly normal to vent about my funk when I was walking “the girls” around the neighborhood in a slight drizzle. Suddenly the misty rain turned into an outright downpour halfway through the walk.

While I had the plastic canopy over the stroller and my trusty rain boots on, Zoe and I still got soaked. My cordouroy jeans were as wet as the pavement and I felt like I was the opening scene of a “Chic Lit” book turned into a feature film. It would have been about some perfectly nice, new mother who left the corporate world to be a stay-at-home-mom and was “having a time of it” in the burbs. The movie would, of course, have been set just outside London and my character’s name would have been something like Jemma. Throw in a single friend in the city who smokes, some struggles with weight, a few martinis, and an adoring husband who tries to help in my plight and you have yourself a feature film. As long as Kate Hudson doesn’t play my character, it should be a hit.

Open Call: Baby Jesus

I got a call from a woman at the church Lolo was baptized in regarding their Christmas pageant this year. They need to fill the spot for Baby Jesus, and she wondered if Lolo would be interested in the role. Once I stopped chuckling, I quickly turned on my “stage mom” instincts and asked when the performance would be. She told me it was at 4pm on Christmas Eve. Dargh! We will be out of town, but I assured her that Lolo was indeed a superstar and would have been perfect for the part. She’s realistically baby enough but with a hint of sass.

She said she was going down the list of babies born in 2008 and Lolo was at the top. I like to think she was at the top because of her star power and presence and not because she was born in the second month of this year.

Does Target sell dinner?

You think you have a system. You’re totally down with managing all things baby, dog, household, self-showering, etc. And, then you’re child goes from wanting to simply sit in the shopping cart watching the bright colors go by to wanting to get out of said cart and shop herself. There goes my task list.

It also doesn’t help my time management dilemma that the previously mentioned baby with her own agenda now eats a truckload of food three times a day and takes close to an hour to eat that truckload in her high chair. And, did I mention she still naps twice a day, thank the good Lord. (For the record and for ears of the napping Gods, I am not complaining about her snoozing, I am simply mentioning it to demonstrate how my time “to accomplish” is limited.)

I used to be able to cruise out of the house as soon as she woke up from a nap and tackle at least two tasks and a playgroup as long as I had two bottles packed in the bag. But, now I find it hard to walk the dog and get to the grocery store in one day.

I have to think ahead and see what will pack the most punch into my day. That’s why it’s a godsend that Target sells curtains, books and milk. But, do they sell dinner in a bag, time in a box? If they do, I’ll buy them. Forget Home Depot or the library, they can only boast one line of goods. Who needs that?

I quietly painted another room bringing my sum total to three rooms down, plenty to go.