I just need a week off to re-group. Feeling overwhelmed. Promise I will be back by next Monday with some quality content for dat ass. Thanks for understanding. XOXOX Samantha

In a few hours it’s going to be my Birthday. My facebook profile says I’m going to be 32. I’m not. I’m going to be 34. I suck at lying about my age. It hasn’t stuck and it never feels right. So what, I’m 34! All that counts is that I look and feel great, right? I’ve lost the baby weight and I’m taking the 30 Days To A Better Life Challenge. Go me! So, In keeping with the self improvement kick I decided to get myself a little birthday pressie. Today I went for my very first non-invasive cosmetic procedure. Let’s hear it for Botox! Woooo!

I’d been thinking about getting Botox for a while now. You see, I have two not so pretty lines that run horizontally across my forehead that I’d happily like to due away with. Then there’s the subtle crows feet, the laugh lines…should I keep moving down the body? Nah, you know what I’m talking about.  Up to this point I was being a little wishy-washy about the whole thing. I’d even made an appointment at a fancy Med-Spa in Manhattan prior to getting pregnant with Lola and ended up canceling because I was hungover and couldn’t bare the thought of being jabbed in the face with a syringe. Also the price was exorbitant, starting at something like $300 and up, so I blew it off.

Well, a few weeks ago I was at my favorite local coffeehouse on Bedford Ave. and I peeped a flyer for the salon next door, Hello Beautiful. They were introducing Botox to their Salon menu. It was divine intervention. Stressed and tired I stuffed the flyer into my bag and strolled off, kids in tow. When I called Hello Beautiful to inquire about the prices, the mega-glam owner, Rebecca, explained the procedure, told me about her work and gave me pricing based on the cc’s. I’ve gotten my hair done there from time to time and I remembered that  a few years back, I’d seen Rebecca giving a hair cut with her baby in a sling. What a beautiful picture, an entrepreneur, a mother, fully tatted up, hard at work in her shop. That’s my kinda girl and Hello Beautiful is my kinda place.  I booked an appointment.

I arrived today a bit nervous, but fully excited to be being proactive about the future of my face. Rebecca made me feel super comfortable and the doctor, Erin, and I discussed my problem areas. I never felt pressured about getting anything more than what I came in for, which I think is admirable in that kind of business. The procedure was a snap. I psyched myself up thinking it was going to hurt getting poked in the face…ahem, 8 times!!….but it didn’t. Afterwards my forehead looked like it had been used as a pin cushion but it quickly subsided, leaving me with a tingly after glow.

Ok, it’s only been a few hours since my procedure, but I believe it’s beginning to take effect. I’m trying not to test my “surprise face” too much so the medicine can work it’s magic, but it’s looking like my muscles are already relaxing. Whatever’s happening, I I love it! I feel giddy and excited to have dipped my feet (ok maybe just a pinky toe) into the wild waters of cosmetic surgery. And get this, my bill, a glorious $150 bucks! Happy fucking Birthday to me!

I visited one of my favorite self improvement sites this morning and discovered a link to a post on The Personal Excellence Blog about improving your life in 30 days. It’s a challenge in which each day of September you do one thing that will create awareness about making your life better. The task is posted in the morning and you take the information with you throughout the day and practice the task at hand. I like it. I’m gonna do it. Maybe I’ll have a better life in 30 days. That would be nice.

This is one of those “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade” situations. As I was putting my outfit together the other day I zoned in on the perfect accessory in my closet. It was my hot pink Chanel belt. So, this particular belt, I had had my eye on it for a while. As luck would have it, the belt eventually went on sale for the still absolutely ridiculous price of $500. Oh, also I bought it while I was pregnant and can only now finally wear the thing. I had worn it once before this incident. So, I grab the belt off this bar thing in my closet. I hang all my belts there and sometimes I shove a few purses on the end of this bar. When I pull off the belt I notice a huge black stain on the belt, not the buckle, but on the belt itself.

My heart sank. This gorgeous thing that I spent a heafty amount of cash money for and had only worn once was ruined! I ran and got the Magic Sponge. Nothing. The leather bag that was resting on top of it had permanently damaged my most beautiful perfect hot pink belt. For a moment I was devastated. Then all of a sudden, I realized that there was nothing I could do about it and it turned into a life lesson. I looked at the belt and said to myself Oh well, it’s flawed now, well so am I. It made me think that the quest for perfection is unatainable so sometimes we need to accept, and live with, things not being perfect.

I make endless lists of things I want to do, goals I want to accomplish. Sometimes I put so much pressure on myself I don’t get anything done because it all seems so overwhelming. At that moment of accepting the imperfection in this silly accessory I accepted the imperfection in myself and I let go a little bit. And I’m telling you since that moment, nearly a week ago, I’ve gotten more done. By just doing what I can, I end up doing more. I know this sounds strange but fashion works in mysterious ways.

Holy fucking shit ya’ll I signed Fritz up for a few days of summer camp and he started today! Serenity now! Yes!!! I’ve been totally beating myself up about not blogging enough but now I know why. I just walked in the door sans Fritz and I felt like I could conquer the world. And by ‘conquering the world’ I mean get this house in order, squeek out a blog post, get some work done and enjoy some quality me time. I feel truly liberated.

While Lola is becoming increasingly mobile, she’s manageable. I have a whole five hours before I have to pick the little hellion up and I plan to cherish every moment. Fritz will only be alternating two days one week and three days the next for his summer camp schedule so I’m not off the hook completely. It’s ok though because I am happy to have some quality summertime with the little rascal but fucking-a it is beyond exhausting. So with this bit of extra time I hope to pick up the pace on the blogging tip and become a well rested and more sane mommy. Let’s see what happens!

It’s been five months since having Lola and I am not at all happy with my weight/physique situation. To make matters worse (depending on how you look at it) I have a BD who hits the gym three to four times a week. He looks amazing. I look like jello. Drastic measures are being taken. I got a gym membership and I’ve begun spinning. Today was my second day and I feel fucking amazing. I’ll tell you what I like about spin, you just have to get you’re ass there and go, go, go. No thinking about a routine or being bored on a treadmill or elliptical machine. After forty-five minutes of spin I am crazy high on endorphins and feel incredible. It’s the only way. It’s what I did with Fritz and it’s what I have to do now to get my bod back.

There are a few other motivating factors here. One, my gym has babysitting. A gym with babysitting is a god send. The second is my mom (who also has some poundage to lose) and I are in competition. We set our first goal of each losing five pounds by July 1st. If one of us doesn’t meet the goal she has to pay the other $200. Talk about a motivator!!! If we both meet the goal no $$$ changes hands and it’s a win-win then we set the next goal. All of a sudden lunches of pasta and wine have turned into peckish salads and water and we’re both trying to one up each other in our workouts. And if that wasn’t enough I upped the ante when earlier today, still buzzing off spin class, I asked BD what he would ‘get me’ if by August I could rock a skin tight am appy dress. His reply ‘anything I want’. It is so fucking on.

Cheeba, Cheeba ya’ll! I thought I would say a quick hello and give a little update from the city of beer and wurst. The trip so far has been incredible. Bruno jokes for days. Our itinerary is to have no itinerary. The first day we set out to see a museum and an old bunker, five days later we’ve seen neither. The trip has consisted of walking, eating drinking, shopping, taking photos, sleeping-in and getting inspired. I’ll give you the full low down on my return but here are a few highlights….

Here’s me and BD in some train station. We are having an amazing time cruising around together. I swear to you we have not bickered about a single thing. It’s all that I had anticipated, being together again as a couple. We miss the kids, but are getting in some much needed quality time <3 <3 <3 <3

I’m geting to act like my crazy old self again and it feels good to be able to let loose a little. But at the same time the days of yore are not nearly as appealing. I haven’t stayed up past 2 am….yet!

I love beer and I love German food but, even with all the walking, my bod is turning into jello. With every beer I slurp down comes a promise to get a gym membership and go hard as soon as I get home. Prost!

Berlin, old and new, is like a breath of fresh air. This will sound incredibly jaded, but NYC is feeling like a big ol bore fest. Above translation ‘Direction Berlin’. I love this city!

The kinder shopping scene is unreal!!! I’m dying over all the cute kids stuff. Here’s some of my booty.

These guys are obsessed with graffiti. One dude is an old friend of BD. They’re all writers from Germany and they took us to a down low painting spot…

I picked up the cans and got busy. It was so fun to get all artsy with das spray paint. I’ll save the finished result, and the story of that day for my super mega cool Berlin post (said in a German accent).

Cheers!

In a few day’s BD and I will be getting on a plane, flying over the Atlantic and landing in Berlin Tegel Airport. Just me and him. We will be alone for eight whole days. The kids are being left behind and will be looked after by my parents here in New York. On the one hand I am so excited to see a new city and be alone with BD, but on the other hand I am scared to death to leave. Emotionally speaking, I’m split right down the middle about this trip.

I’ve actually been having quite a bit of anxiety about leaving. First of all, I’m convinced that we’re probably going to go down in a fiery ball of flames and the kids will be left parentless. Worrying about this is obviously pointless because the trip is booked and we’re going, but ever since I’ve had kids I’ve become a total freak about flying. The mere thought of them having to live their lives with out us breaks my heart into a million pieces. But what kind of way is this to live? I was always fearless and carefree but these kids have changed all of that. So, this is what I play over and over in my head, mommy and daddy selfishly took a trip to Berlin and left us orphans.

My number two fear is that the people who raised me, my mom and dad, somehow won’t be able to handle two kids for a whole week on their own. I’m driving myself nuts thinking about all the terrible things that could happen while I’m away. And another thing is, I think I’m so damn attached to them that I’m going to suffer from a classic case of homesickness while abroad. When Fritz was little he had a nanny, so I was used to leaving him in someone else’s care on a regular basis. That definatly softened the blow when it came to traveling a few years ago. But now with Lola, and all the time I spend with the both of them every single day, well the thought of being with out them for so long makes me pretty sad.

But…here are my other feelings about leaving. BD and I can do what ever we please for eight whole days and nights. We won’t have to yell at, or discipline anyone for eight whole days…and nights. We will have a whole new world of topics to fuel our conversations. We will see new things, eat delicious food, lolligag in parks and cafes, chatting and reading. Did you know BD is German and speaks the language fluently? We’re meeting some German friends there too. We can go to a nightclub, stay out until 5 am, sleep in and hit a beer garden with out any repercussions. And most of all we will be able to be alone and experience a part of our relationship that we haven’t for what feels like a very long time. The thought of escaping and being a couple for an entire week is about as exciting as it gets right now.

So you see my dilemma right?

I hate to be complainy but here’s the deal, I’ve been feeling really weird lately. My motivation is low and I’m kinda uninspired. I’m all over the place too, like, I can’t focus on or finish things I start. Look, I know have a lot to be happy about, but at the same time, it’s all kinda new, stressful and a lot to take in. Of course I’m talking about the fact that I am now a mother of two, SAHM and I’m trying to balance myself, the kids and my marriage. I guess you could also say, now that I’ve had baby I’m asking myself, what’s next? I think I’ve been having a little bit of a pity party. Wahhhh, wahhh, wahhh.

Well, I had a realization today. I was having a lazy Sunday morning and suddenly got the urge to go out and do something different. I got on Time Out Kids and looked up something to do. I came upon a magic show at a cute little spot in downtown Manhattan called Joe’s Pub. I’d partied there until the wee hours before but had never been there during daylight hours. BD had been out late the night before so I was letting him sleep. I had gotten a rare chance to go out Friday night so he had done the same for me Saturday morning. There’s another thing…I can go out now on occasion, because Lola’s on formula, but we just can’t go out together. Like I said wahhhh, whaaa, wahh.

The show was at twelve, and it was nine fourty-five, so we had to get a move on. I got myself and everyone ready, drove there and arrived early to make sure we got tickets. Joe’s Pub was all dark and swanky like it is when you go there at night. The Magicians were old school and the show was a tribute to the late Dr. Abraham B. Hurwitz, New York City’s “Official Magician”.  We got awesome seats on a super puffy red velvet couch, even a corner section! The show was cute and hacky. We all had a great time. Lola was totally watching a lady juggler and Fritz was very excited about card tricks, hankies and a contraption that nearly cutoff two audience members hands. The only thing lacking was a rabbit being pulled out of a top hat.

Now comes the huge realization…on the car ride home I thought to myself I live in New York City and I don’t do shit! Then I thought, If I want to have fun and be really super happy, I have to get off my ass, out of my house and do something about it. Does doing the same damn routine everyday make me happy? NO!  My routine is so precise. I cannot live like this. I need balance, I need culture and most of all I need to get out of the fucking house!!! I love my home, but enough already!

Going out with with kids to do something out of the ordinary made me feel great. And the show was actually pretty grown up, there were all of five kids there and they were much older than Fritz, so it felt like it was kind of for me too. Basically, I know I need to make the effort during the week to check stuff out, go to a different park, in a different neighborhood, go to museums, cruise different shops, meet with friends and get a bite to eat in a new restaurant every once and a while!  I need to change it up. And I think with that, will come happiness, inspiration and a sense of balance. Since I don’t work I need to get out and be amoungst the people of the world every so often for christ sakes (and not at the market, preschool or coffee shop I go to every single day). Enough is enough! I’m goin for it! Time to strap on (hehe, strap on) the Baby Bjorn and hit the streets. I gave myself a pep-talk today and I’m feeling rejuvenated. Let’s hope this attitude adjustment can give me a bit of extra energy and a fresh perspective on things. Nothin’ to it but to do it, right?