Unlike celebrity spokeswomen for at home hair dye (Sarah Jessica Parker is dyeing her own hair in her bathroom?) or overly smart or wealthy political candidates (Wait, we need an educated president! Don’t downplay it!), Martha Stewart never pretends to be like a regular person. She likes to give even her biggest fans little reminders that while we can read her magazines and attempt her crafts, she’s functioning on a different level. She doesn’t even pretend that she doesn’t have an army of staff helping her either, talking about calling ahead when travelling to one of her homes to have the staff start baking so she can arrive to warm, fresh cookies. Actual caption under a photo of her granddaughter's bedroom in this month’s Martha Stewart Living:
“The Arctic-themed mural in the nursery was a gift from Martha, who created it with the help of crafts editor Hosanna Houser and her team. Made from caribou hides (which Martha brought back from our trip to Arctic Canada) and felt, the mural was designed with the room’s ice-blue color palette in mind.”
Back in the real world, the boys recently spent some time with their grandparents too, sans-caribou hides.
Trent’s family came over recently to celebrate Trent’s dad’s birthday with a big Saturday morning breakfast. It was one of those birthdays that deserved a bonus pancake rendition of Happy Birthday in addition to a regular cake. We spent the rest of the morning at the pool, where the boys played with their aunts and Trent tried to reteach me to do a flip turn. Flip turns are in the same category as jump roping, meaning that just because you could do it in your youth, it doesn’t mean your body will have any recollection of that. It’s going to take more practice and water up my nose to perfect it.
A few days later I went to visit my parents. The day we arrived the boys were playing in the pantry, and they suddenly got very quiet. When my mom when to check on them, she found that they had located a can of Pringles and polished off half of it.
When Rush woke up throwing up at 3 AM, I blamed the Pringles, but only until we all joined him. I don’t know that my parents were all that happy about catching a stomach bug, but I’ve never been happier to be sick in my life. If I’m going to be miserable and taking care of children, there’s no place I would rather be than with my parents, who could help me. Being home by myself throwing up with Rush and Tate (who thankfully stayed well) or with my mom? I don’t even need to answer that.
After everyone had progressed past saltines and Sprite, we took a quick trip to the beach. After a rainy Saturday afternoon and Sunday morning, Sunday turned into the most beautiful day of the summer. The seaweed was gone, so hopefully we can fit in one more beautiful summer beach weekend before fall.
I’ll take pancakes with store bought syrup and saltines and Sprite over ice-blue murals any day. Although would it be pushing it to call ahead to the grandparents for fresh baked cookies on arrival…?
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