Fancy Decisions

Well this isn’t a very difficult Listography this week, is it? The best decisions Fancy has made in her life? Gosh, where do I begin? Choosing the 3 instead of the 4 inch black Manolos? Wearing my retainers religiously well into adulthood? Ignoring the purple mascara trend? Those were all positive moments in Fancy’s life. My teeth, for instance, are perfect. I think I’m going to have more trouble when Kate finally gets around to what we all know is coming: regrets. But until then, cakewalk!

• Buying Having my kids. H and I often say that adoption was one of the best things we did. Better than we ever could ever imagine. And then there is the one who has our genes. We love her to pieces too, cellulite, buckteeth and all. They were both worth every penny and then some.

• Choosing to leave my fulltime career to branch out sideways, upways and down. I realize that is cryptic but let’s just say that there aren’t too many of my classmates who have taken this road less travelled. But Fancy did. It was scary but now look who’s laughing. (I am. Fancy is laughing. Just to be clear.)

• Accepting that Fancy needs help. Help with the kids. Hell, help getting the kids. Help with the house. Help with the yard, the lightbulbs, the gutters. Don’t laugh. Fancy here has been known to wield a power tool and attempt a little DIY. She’s tried to deep clean the upholstery while cooking a 3-course dinner and feeding and bathing the Minis. It doesn’t work. It can be hard to let go. Fancy is a control freak. But it had to be done.  

• Which brings us to Fancy Therapist. Yes, it’s asking for help but it’s something more than that. It’s listening. Deciding to ignore your emotionally driven insanity and listen to reason, even criticism, can be hard. But I’d paid him so much I decided to give it a try and, well, you all know how it’s working out. First class plane tickets? A personal assistant? A happy home? Well done, Fancy!

• And that leads to the last point on our list. Fancy here had to put it all together: fighting infertility, becoming a parent, finding a creative way to keep my career afloat, accepting that I can’t do it alone and that I can be, on occasion, an irrational looney. And H has stood by me through it all, meaning he must have been a pretty okay decision too. Even if it means that FT has his work more than cut out for him, helping me manage tie throwing tantrums and the like. I hope FT names his yacht for us. Since we certainly paid for it. Anyhoo.

Alrighty. Now to the kitchen. More decisions. Fillet or lobster for dinner? Probably doesn’t really matter. Fancy’s clearly on a roll.