Journal excerpt dated 03/23/08:
Okay — I’m not one to lament much of anything, but the way this Easter Morning came together, I just had to take a moment to breathe it in and laugh about it… First thing? Been snowing all weekend. A good six inches on the ground. An no end in sight. Happy Spring!
So, I tried to make Easter a little more special — seeing as how it snuck up on us and was here before we knew it — by arranging brunch our our favorite restaurant, Cafe Lurcat. Great food, great staff, great view. And this was the first time they had ever offered a brunch of any type, let alone an Easter brunch. It’s always just a nice place to have a meal. 10:15 AM sounded great. Absolutely…
Well, if any of you have been following along with my work life, you know that Tara, my supervisor in the LA office, is in her 8 1/2 month of pregancy, and that I have pretty much channeled her pregancy along the way, complete with back pains, weird dreams, and yes, the baby weight. Yeah, I’m looking at 15 pounds in the last 8 months. I’m also blaming that on two cross-country moves, a little work pressure here and there, mid-40’s metabolism, and yes, Tara’s pregnancy. So, I’m sitting at 184 lbs. However, all of my nice work/dress clothes are sitting at around 165 lbs, which I I discovered roughly 45 minutes before brunch time… Yeah, the joys of working from home. Those jeans just seem to ride a little fashionably lower on the hips, rather than scream “Hey Alan — You’re fat!”
So, I’m rummaging through the closet to find something to wear, only to realize that all I have is a suit that I had let out during a previous fat season! I’m griping and moaning to Chris that I have to wear a suit, and was told to just wear the suit pants without the jacket… Yeah, a gay man told me that. Hard to believe, I know. And especially coming from Chris. But I think he was secretly realizing that this could prove to be a more traumatic moment than he had the energy to deal with, so opted with a sly, psychologically sound approach to control the damage. It worked, but I was secretly feeling like some of my uncles who became a little rotund their later years (okay, specifically Hal, and that is not derogatory, you all know how much I loved him… and pretty much looked identical to him in his younger years…. thus the fear of my own weight gain and jolly tendencies as I age…). Needless to say, the high-waisted suit pants that were belted around the heftiest portion of my mid-section were not helping matters, at all.
So, we’re dressed and ready to go… me, feeling slightly self-conscious, but having a good hair day, so feeling better… and it’s time to put the puppies in their kennel. Chloe obediently runs inside, while Samson runs and hides under the bed. We’re on a time schedule here, and hide-and-seek is not on the docket. I look under the bed to find him in his favorite position — on his back, tail thumping against the carpet. The ultimate in passivity. So, I reach under the bed and swing his little back side around so I can slide him out from under, when he takes passivity one step further and “happy piddles” in an athletic arch that directly targets the sleeve of my freshly pressed dress shirt! Oh yeah. Bullseye! In a moment as close to parenting as I’ll ever know, I told Chris “You deal with him,” while I marched into the bathroom — not to change clothes, but to take out the blow dryer and blow dry the dog piddle on my shirt until it disappeared. No time for ironing another shirt. That was probably the moment second-closest to parenting I’ll ever know. And Chris? Devilishly quiet – -much to his credit — knowing the amount of verbal ammunition he had accumulated by that time, but chose to use none of it….
Brunch was great, and all the little kids were out with their families, scrubbed and shined within an inch of their lives. Loved it. So cute. Our server was not used to a) day light serving hours and b) serving kids in this restaurant, so we got a huge kick out of watching her adjust!
Our favorite line of the morning was when she was calling out that the restaurant had a live, costumed Easter Bunny up front to the little girl next to us. She said: “Hi! You look so beautiful! Did you see the Easter Bunny at the bar?” Chris and I about died! Visions of a crotchety, costumed Easter Bunny sitting on a bar stool all alone, throwing back Vodka tonics as little kids walked by. That was such a good moment. Chris and I burst out laughing, and she stopped by to acknowledge that the whole family affair in the restaurant had her a little off her game. It was priceless.
The rest of the day? Back in my comfortable sweats, basking in the knowledge that the revitalized diet and gym program start Monday — as they’ve started every Monday for the past 8 months — and that I’ll be back to my fighting weight in no time… I’m thinking 2011? Now where did I hide those marshmallow chicks? Love you all. Happy Easter!