Awwww

There are moments when your children can absolutely melt your heart. As we were getting ready to walk out the front door this morning, my sweet two-year-old grabs his big sister's hand. In his little voice he says, "hand. hold hand. Laina, hold hand. Best friend." They walk outside hand and hand.

Already?!?

Today is my daughter's second day of school. She has agreed to me dropping her off starting Monday, but for the first two days she wants me to walk her to her class. After asking me twenty times between 7:25 and 7:45 what the time was, she demanded that I get myself ready. My plan was to change out of my sport shorts and throw on a pair of jeans with the Dr Pepper T-shirt I had worn to bed.. I mean I was just walking her to he classroom, right? Oh no, Miss Too Cool for Mommy informed me that she would be too embarrassed if I dare show up in just a T-shirt! I can't believe it! She is old enough to be embarrassed by her super chic mama? I guess it's only a matter of time until I am not even allowed to acknowledge her in public.

Being the Big Sister

My six-year-old was lucky enough to be an only child for over four years before her brother came and crashed her party. Melaina was excited to have a little sister . . . and even admitted that there was a chance for a brother too. When we found out that Andrew was indeed a boy, we could tell that Lainey was a tad disappointed. However, on the drive home from the ultrasound she gave us her approval with a much less than enthusiastic, "FINE! I'll have a baby brother, then." Clearly, she had adapted well, for the most part. She did, after all, ask if we could buy Andrew just one dress to wear at home while daddy was at work. Addison's ultrasound, which we had done in December was followed with a truly enthusiastic, "Oh mommy, it's the best Christmas present I could ever get!" Of course, she wouldn't let me take back all of her other gifts!

Ordering ice water

One of my inspirations for starting the blog was actually to respond to someone trashing the job of a server. This guy insisted that the customer always knows what they want, and there is no need for a server to try and "guide" their guest in the ordering process. It has taken me one shift at work to debunk said argument.

Example 1:

"Hi! Welcome to The Cheesecake Factory. Can I start you with something to drink?"

"Sure. I'll have an ice water with lemon or lime."

"O.K. So, an ice water with lemon." I defaulted to lemon because they are on the line and easier for me to get, where as, a lime wedge comes from the bar or kitchen.

"Well, do you have lime?"

"Oh, you would prefer a lime?"

"Yes."

Exit scene to retrieve water and lime from the bar.

Apparently I was mistaken for interpreting that water with lemon or lime meant that either was sufficient. Next time I will activate my mind reading skills so I know that a lime is actually needed, or maybe my guest could just order hmmm... a water with lime perhaps.

Example 2 (different table):

"My mother will have a lemonade with no ice."

"O.K. I just want to let you know, though, that our lemonade is extremely sweet. The ice, even just a little bit helps to cut the strength."

"It's O.K. We'll take it with no ice."

"Of course. Be right back."

Return to table later to check on food.

"I'm so sorry. My mom doesn't really like the lemonade. It's just too sweet for her. Can she have a water with lemon or lime instead?"

While I understand that guests don't want to be pressured into ordering something they do not want, servers ask little questions to get an idea of what they actually do want. I work at a restaurant with a menu that is almost 20 pages long. Some "tour guiding," no matter how little, is definitely called for.

Ten things

Part of anyone's journey in life is the relationship that they build with their parents. My relationship with my mother has been strained to say the least. We have reconciled our relationship to being two adult women. We are both mothers and she is, obviously, the grandmother to my three children. We don't rehash the past anymore or try to heal old wounds really. I'm not sure if we are supposed to or not. Where we are works for right now. I did figure, though, that a good way to view who my mother was/is to me would be to make a list of ten things I feel she did right.

1. Getting me involved with activities at both our local library and YMCA.
2. Ballet
3. Ceramics classes (which I think I may have actually hated at the time)
4. Short-lived piano lessons
5. Softball
6. Summer workbooks
7. Taking me to programs at her school
8. Home cooked meals practically every night until the meltdown
9. Giving me freedom and independence to explore the neighborhood we lived in
10. Taking us on amazing family vacations, even after the meltdown

For these ten things, I am grateful.

A Brief introduction to the family

My husband Brandon. We met while working in a restaurant together. There's something irresistible about a man in the kitchen. Many servers sleep with their cooks and a few marry them. The two of us in front of the cottage we stayed in at Gem Beach this summer.


That cuter than cute little guy is my crazy two-year-old Andrew. He is a source of joy and entertainment, and I am glad we have good health insurance!





My first born, Melaina. She's getting smarter and more beautiful everyday.


And finally, one that looks like me. Addison Rachel joined our family 4/8/08. Honestly, I never knew babies came this easy.


She has even inspired Brandon to want to be a stay-at-home dad. A far cry from the other two to be honest!

A Small Rant

Can someone please explain to me why the fine city of New York is standing for the demolition of Yankee stadium? Is NYC not the proudest, almost to a fault, city in this country? Do Americans fear leaving behind any sort of lasting legacy? I am convinced we are a country destined to leave behind no proof of our existence. I expect this somewhere such as Las Vegas, where everything is worthless and fake anyway, but the temple of baseball? The shrine to the greats of America's pastime? What a shame.

Things that don't work

I've never been a small, skinny girl. I definitely have had a better body than I do now... like when I was 17 and having sex for the first time and all the time. Of course, I hated my body then as well. Tonight, though, I have finally admitted to myself that eating 5 cookies, Jack in the Box, and a midnight snack all in one day . . . not going to help me lose weight. Maybe I should give more sex a try though. . .

Time Served

I recently realized that I am living a life that has just happened to me. Few things I have going on right now were conscious decisions, and most are the result of what is safe and comfortable. For example, I am turning 30 this November and am still waiting tables. I'm good at what I do. I should be, I've been doing it for over ten years. Some nights are fun and almost satisfying, but as a rule, I hate my job. I am finally starting to feel out of place among the young college students I work with. I'm not the oldest server there by any means, but I am definitely in a different stage of life than most of them. I'm wondering if they are starting to look at me like a dreaded "career server." I remember talking about those people. The ones who are bitter and jaded, and take it out on everyone else by calling out everything that is done incorrectly around them. There's a certain air surrounding the career server... it smells a little something like defeat, a resignation to the fact that this is not a temporary gig. They're not in school trying to get their degree, and even though they know the restaurant's policy inside and out, they are not next in line for a management position.



I also can't stand the great tip debate and the fact that I am most often on the losing end of it. Nothing is more frustrating than keeping children happy, drinks filled, and tables cleared for a whopping 10% tip. I am not in the practice of telling other people that they don't deserve to get paid for doing their job, so I am thoroughly confused as to why someone would feel that way about me. People love to moan and bitch about how unreasonable it is for severs to expect somewhere between 15-20% as a tip. A lot of people will use any excuse not to cough it up. I say, if you can't figure in a decent tip to how much you will be spending when you go out to eat, perhaps you should cook for yourself. I'm completely over the mentality that the customer is always right and entitle to free food if there is even the slightest mistake made during the dining experience. If a problem is resolved in a timely and polite manner and you proceed to enjoy your remade meal, for what inexplicable reason should you receive this meal for free? Apparently the service industry is the only place where mistakes are ever made, and we should pay dearly.



Not long ago, my six-year-old daughter asked me what I wanted to do when I grow up. I was in part impressed at her insight to the fact that I have not yet realized my childhood dreams. I was also crushed that even my six-year-old views my current position as substandard and hardly a "real" job. Is it not enough that I bring in decent money, work short shifts, and am able to keep our three children out of daycare? I breathed a brief sigh of contentment when we brought our third child home from the hospital. I finally felt like I had accomplished something truly great in my life. I have an amazingly beautiful family and a relatively great marriage, of course we have our ups and downs, but he is a good man and he adores our family. Do I really want to go back to school so I can work over 40 hours outside of the home and ship the kids off to daycare? Is it really that much better to fulfill as opposed to refill?