Not so hot 24, but good times a'comin!

I was not particularly zen when we reached home yesterday. Granted, the boys were good on the flight, but the morning had been harried, the flight was awfully turbulent at least 50% of the time AND Oliver melted down every two minutes about something so inane that I wanted to disown him. Jack threw a tantrum at bedtime because he was "NOT tired" which really means he's exhausted, Nutmeg threw up twice, and I hit the sack at 8p. The best part of the day was seeing Nutmeg, pukey though he was. This morning sucked the big one, and then I schlepped both boys to the dentist where we found, unsurprisingly, that Jack has two cavities. He has the worst dental hygiene of any child I've known, so frankly I think this is an obvious and good consequence from which he'll learn. Fortunately, both cavities are in baby teeth, but I think the old drill will teach him a lesson or two.

Afterwards I made the profoundly bad decision to take both kids to the market with me. Not only was all of DC there too but also the kids literally talked me into insanity. I was shaking on the drive home during which I called T, told him to be waiting outside to help bring in the groceries and plan to take the boys away from me until he goes to the gym at 4:30.

I ate a quick lunch from one of last night's take-out containers, left my phone at home and hauled my riddled ass to the Bloomingdales shoe department for some retail therapy on the cheap via the post-Xmas sale. Two pairs of fabulous shoes for insanely good prices. And then the most spectacular pleated leather skirt that was not on sale but which I convinced the spunky salesgal to sell me at 30% + $75 off. Who won? Moi. I am now going to the gym, a bottle of champagne is chilling, and I intend to have a lovely NYE here at home with my hubs and NOT the children who will be sawing logs. Amen!

Heading home

What a fantastic ten days in Louisiana! Heading home, eager to detox and get back to cooking and a more sustainable schedule, but it was all great fun, and the kids had as much fun as did we.Last night, El, Michele, T and I went to The Columns, an old, awesome, grand hotel-now-bar on St. Charles avenue, for drinks. It was perfect and we then returned home to cook dinner and crack a bottle of red. Michele's pasta made me want to cry it was so good. It's awesome to love your sister and her husband so much!

Rain, two parties, a second line and a cabess

Despite major rain all day yesterday, the spirit of festivity prevailed in NOLA, and we celebrated two events: my paternal grandmother's 88th birthday, and my second cousin's birthday and wedding. We'd all tied one on Friday night but rallied for a wonderful lunch at Mr. B's yesterday, with cocktails at 11:30 and lunch starting an hour later. 25 or so cousins, aunts, uncles and kids sat around a huge square table bedecked with a birthday ribbon and balloons. The boys were terrifically well-behaved throughout the meal which lasted until sometime after we left at 2:15.

My friends in DC always laugh in friendly fashion at my propensity for dressing up whenever the suggestion of doing so is even little more than a figment of possibility, but growing up, we dressed up a lot, and I still enjoy puttin' on the glitz. Fishnets and heels before noon? Well, grandma doesn't turn 88 every day. A full change of fancy-dress attire a mere three hours later? Why not!

Today I am mighty tired, this past week of partying nipping at my heels in a major way. But it sure has been fun. Last night we gathered for the wedding. My second cousin first met his bride in 8th grade, they dated for several years in high school, and then parted ways. She married someone else, he went to law school, but then things went a bit sour in her marriage, and he threw his hat back in the ring. More than a decade after they first broke up, they tied the knot, happy as can be. Great story, and they celebrated in true New Orleans style by having a Second Line escort us from the ceremony to the reception site.

Most of you have probably not heard about Second Lines; they're a very, very Louisiana, specifically New Orleans-area thing. Traditionally, the Main Line or First Line of a brass band parade would be followed by folks who simply wanted to enjoy the music and festivity. They'd march behind, waving white handkerchiefs and parasols. Last night, when guests were handed a wedding program, they were also given a handkerchief; afterwards, we filed out of the ceremony venue, following the bride and groom, a tuba player, a trumpeter, and a drummer. It was great fun all of us waving our hanks, some of us twirling parasols, cocktails in hand.

On the way home, T and I managed to hail the looniest cab driver in the world. By the time we returned home, maybe 2 miles, possibly 3, we learned that she'd been left by her mother at 16, was a long-haul trucker for 5 years and covered all 48 of the contiguous states, was a musician with grand aspirations, considered herself wildly chatty, thought a guy she'd happened to pick up twice was in love with her, had bronchitis possibly because she'd started smoking again, could really ramble on and on and on, and wow, when we got home and exited her cab, it was with enormous relief.

Off to Cafe du Monde!