On the outside it says:
To: ELF Please write back :-)
She is SO sweet! She also left a second note asking about the headband.
Priceless...... :-)
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Please Don't Let Her Grow Up
Lilly is almost 9 years old. She's in 3rd grade, she goes to daycare, she's dying to be grown up, she loves fashion and cell phones, her favorite TV show is "Friends". She's beginning to doubt the existence of Santa.
Now we've had the discussions before: you have to believe in Santa for Christmas to be fun and magical; if you don't believe who knows what will happen?! But, like all kids at one time or another, she comes home from school and asks me why some kids say there isn't a Santa. I go through my usual schpeel and she sits there and nods at me. "I'm going to keep believing Mommy," she says, "I just don't think it would be fun if I didn't." Ahhh, staving off the inevitable just a little while longer!
On Christmas Eve we were all running around making sure we got the gifts to bring to Murmur & Papa's, grabbing the cookie trays for the neighbors, etc. etc. for our trip to the Reedy's for Christmas. We all finally packed into the car and happily went from neighbor to neighbor passing out plates of Christmas cookies and off to the farm we went!
After hours of goodies, hors d' oeuvre's, presents, games and merriment (complete with Murmur playing Christmas carols on the trumpet) we headed home to get the little ones in bed so that Santa wouldn't skip our house. Logan passed out less than 5 minutes down the road as we completely expected. Lilly is a night person like me so she was looking around outside at the Christmas lights. Suddenly she started to giggle to herself.
"Guess what I did," she smirks.
"What?" I say.
"I left a note for the Elf. AND I left my broken headband for him to fix. I can't wait to get home to see if he wrote me back and see if he fixed my headband!" (As a side note, if you aren't already familiar with the story of The Elf on the Shelf I strongly suggest you check it out.)
"Crap!" I think to myself and cast a sideways glance at Brandon. I can see he's thinking the exact same thing, "how the hell are we going to pull this off!"
I know it's a test. I know that she left it there on the piano and didn't say a word because she knew that we would have no way to mess with the note or the headband since we were on our way out the door. We HAVE to keep the classic kiddy deception alive! So I quietly search through my purse for a piece of paper (which is a rarity in my purse, by the way). I finally tear a piece of paper out of my Christmas planner, swiftly find a pen and begin scribbling a note with my left hand in the light cast off the streetlights every 100 feet or so. Yeah, not easy.
As we pull up our driveway, and she is still awake - OF COURSE, I tell her to make sure she stays in her seat until Daddy gets Logan out of his car seat. "We don't want to wake him up you know," I waive my finger at her. "OK," she says. I grab the keys from Brandon and run into the house, quickly mentioning something about having to change Logan's sheets super fast, swing by the piano, grab up the stuff she left for the elf, run into the bedroom to stash it in a secret hiding place, leave the note "the elf" wrote on her bed, and get into Logan's room and start changing the sheets.
She comes up the stairs a few minutes later and wanders into her room. Screams and shrieks come wailing from her room. "HE WROTE ME BACK! LOOK DADDY! HE WROTE ME BACK! AND HE TOOK MY HEADBAND! OH MY GOSH, THIS IS THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"
Ahhhhhhh, we did it. We pulled it off. She still believes.
A parent's job requires all kinds of tasks. The payoff is the best thing EVER!
I still haven't gotten a chance to look at the note she left our elf. Once I do I will post it here.
Nik
Now we've had the discussions before: you have to believe in Santa for Christmas to be fun and magical; if you don't believe who knows what will happen?! But, like all kids at one time or another, she comes home from school and asks me why some kids say there isn't a Santa. I go through my usual schpeel and she sits there and nods at me. "I'm going to keep believing Mommy," she says, "I just don't think it would be fun if I didn't." Ahhh, staving off the inevitable just a little while longer!
On Christmas Eve we were all running around making sure we got the gifts to bring to Murmur & Papa's, grabbing the cookie trays for the neighbors, etc. etc. for our trip to the Reedy's for Christmas. We all finally packed into the car and happily went from neighbor to neighbor passing out plates of Christmas cookies and off to the farm we went!
After hours of goodies, hors d' oeuvre's, presents, games and merriment (complete with Murmur playing Christmas carols on the trumpet) we headed home to get the little ones in bed so that Santa wouldn't skip our house. Logan passed out less than 5 minutes down the road as we completely expected. Lilly is a night person like me so she was looking around outside at the Christmas lights. Suddenly she started to giggle to herself.
"Guess what I did," she smirks.
"What?" I say.
"I left a note for the Elf. AND I left my broken headband for him to fix. I can't wait to get home to see if he wrote me back and see if he fixed my headband!" (As a side note, if you aren't already familiar with the story of The Elf on the Shelf I strongly suggest you check it out.)
"Crap!" I think to myself and cast a sideways glance at Brandon. I can see he's thinking the exact same thing, "how the hell are we going to pull this off!"
I know it's a test. I know that she left it there on the piano and didn't say a word because she knew that we would have no way to mess with the note or the headband since we were on our way out the door. We HAVE to keep the classic kiddy deception alive! So I quietly search through my purse for a piece of paper (which is a rarity in my purse, by the way). I finally tear a piece of paper out of my Christmas planner, swiftly find a pen and begin scribbling a note with my left hand in the light cast off the streetlights every 100 feet or so. Yeah, not easy.
As we pull up our driveway, and she is still awake - OF COURSE, I tell her to make sure she stays in her seat until Daddy gets Logan out of his car seat. "We don't want to wake him up you know," I waive my finger at her. "OK," she says. I grab the keys from Brandon and run into the house, quickly mentioning something about having to change Logan's sheets super fast, swing by the piano, grab up the stuff she left for the elf, run into the bedroom to stash it in a secret hiding place, leave the note "the elf" wrote on her bed, and get into Logan's room and start changing the sheets.
She comes up the stairs a few minutes later and wanders into her room. Screams and shrieks come wailing from her room. "HE WROTE ME BACK! LOOK DADDY! HE WROTE ME BACK! AND HE TOOK MY HEADBAND! OH MY GOSH, THIS IS THE HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"
Ahhhhhhh, we did it. We pulled it off. She still believes.
A parent's job requires all kinds of tasks. The payoff is the best thing EVER!
I still haven't gotten a chance to look at the note she left our elf. Once I do I will post it here.
Nik
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
And Depression Sets In
I know that many people are rejoicing the end of the holidays - no more hustle and bustle, no more parties, no more gift wrapping....but I am depressed. I dread the end of the holiday season. It is my favorite time of the year. I feel that Christmas spirit, sing carols in the car everywhere I go, put lots of time and effort into each gift I buy, and pray for snow. I love the anticipation as the clock ticks closer to Christmas Eve and we watch a different Christmas movie every night. I love getting pictures of my friends kids in the mail attached to Christmas cards and Christmas letters. I never want it to end. I want to be in a perpetual winter wonderland.
So for all of you happy that the Holiday Season is over, congratulations. For me, I'm in a slump, a fit of depression that sets in every year on December 26th and takes me a few weeks to get over.
Humph.....
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| The magic of Christmas morning |
So for all of you happy that the Holiday Season is over, congratulations. For me, I'm in a slump, a fit of depression that sets in every year on December 26th and takes me a few weeks to get over.
Humph.....
Saturday, December 25, 2010
No One Gets Christmas Day Off in Our House
Today, Christmas Day, my sweet little boy pulled out his first tooth. We have been calling him shark boy for some time now as his two front bottom adult teeth came in behind the baby ones. He's been wiggling....and wiggling....but it didn't look like it was going to budge.
All Christmas Eve and this morning he has been twisting and pushing on that little baby tooth and finally this morning he yanked it out...half a root and meat still attached. A little too much for Momma to take (I'm a wimp when it comes to loose teeth), but Daddy thought it was really cool.
So Merry Christmas Logie, last night Santa made his way to our house and tonight we await the arrival of the tooth fairy!
All Christmas Eve and this morning he has been twisting and pushing on that little baby tooth and finally this morning he yanked it out...half a root and meat still attached. A little too much for Momma to take (I'm a wimp when it comes to loose teeth), but Daddy thought it was really cool.
So Merry Christmas Logie, last night Santa made his way to our house and tonight we await the arrival of the tooth fairy!
What Does Status Mean to You?
Obsessed with designer jeans? Gotta have all the newest electronics? Getting a big boat? Go on a fantastic expensive vacation? Feel the need to let all of your friends know your credit card limits? Feel the need to let all of your friends know all of this?
Are you in High School? Did that even matter then?
Irritating...that's all I have to say.
Are you in High School? Did that even matter then?
Irritating...that's all I have to say.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
1 Gift, 2 Gift, 3 Gifts.....ARE PLENTY!
When I was a kid I used to wake up on Christmas morning to a room overflowing with gifts. Everything I could possibly want and more. Like most kids I anxiously awaited the BIG day. When it was all said and done I was so happy with all of my presents. I really appreciated how lucky I was. But I don't know if my parents ever knew it.
Now, raising my own kids, I find myself in the situation most parents find themselves in this time of year - how much is too much? As I wander the toy aisles or brainstorm at home about what to get the kids this year i create a list a mile long. I want them to get everything they want. I want them to get everything I think they should have. With the re-release of many of the toys that were popular when we were kids, Brandon and I struggle not to buy our kids all the stuff we never got.
Every year as we spend countless hours wrapping dozens and dozens of gifts, I begin to freak out, wondering if we have bought enough to transform the living room into a virtual elf storage room, the magical room it was for me when I was a kid. I usually run out and pick up "just a few more things" to make the day more special.
Then comes Christmas morning. As they come down the stairs, and begin to get a peek of the gift-fest below, their eyes widen & they jump and squeal with excitement. "Mommy!" "Daddy!" "Aaahh, look what I got!" Yes, that's what we were hoping for.
But 2 weeks later, when several toys have yet to be touched, and others are tucked half under the couch with the twist ties still attached, I make an announcement. It is the same announcement I've made year after year, "Next year we're not buying this much!"
And this year, we're actually sticking to it!
TO BE CONTINUED....
Now, raising my own kids, I find myself in the situation most parents find themselves in this time of year - how much is too much? As I wander the toy aisles or brainstorm at home about what to get the kids this year i create a list a mile long. I want them to get everything they want. I want them to get everything I think they should have. With the re-release of many of the toys that were popular when we were kids, Brandon and I struggle not to buy our kids all the stuff we never got.
Every year as we spend countless hours wrapping dozens and dozens of gifts, I begin to freak out, wondering if we have bought enough to transform the living room into a virtual elf storage room, the magical room it was for me when I was a kid. I usually run out and pick up "just a few more things" to make the day more special.
Then comes Christmas morning. As they come down the stairs, and begin to get a peek of the gift-fest below, their eyes widen & they jump and squeal with excitement. "Mommy!" "Daddy!" "Aaahh, look what I got!" Yes, that's what we were hoping for.
But 2 weeks later, when several toys have yet to be touched, and others are tucked half under the couch with the twist ties still attached, I make an announcement. It is the same announcement I've made year after year, "Next year we're not buying this much!"
And this year, we're actually sticking to it!
TO BE CONTINUED....
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
SO Annoying
I can think of little else more annoying than an alarm clock. That beating, rhythmic "EH....EH....EH..." has got to be one of the most recognized (and disliked) sounds in the world. I suppose it is so awful because of what it signifies: the start of the work day, a signal to get out of your warm, comfortable bed. It's rare that the alarm clock is a signal of something fantastic to come (save for when you're getting up to catch a plane to Disneyland when you're a kid!) Perhaps if we only heard the alarm sound when we got a massage, or were eating our favorite foods, or someone was handing us a check for a large sum of money we would behave like Pavlov's Dogs, salivating at the sound.
Nik
Nik
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Great Minds Think Alike
Brandon is giddy like a child at Christmas. Every time he buys another Christmas present he parades around the house with his new secret. "I bought you something today," he says, "don't you wanna know what it is?" "No," I say, "I can wait. I like surprises on Christmas morning and it's the anticipation that does it for me." He sighs and his shoulders drop. "Fine," he says with a pout. It's completely endearing and I love him for it.
This morning he just couldn't wait. "You have to open this one," he said. So I opened it. And the first words out of my mouth? "OH SHIT!"
His response: "Wow, I didn't quite expect that reaction."
Apparently, Brandon and I think a lot alike. I've been telling him for months that he isn't getting any Christmas presents because I bought him a season's pass for Stevens in August. But here's the thing. He's terrible with cell phones. In the last year he has thrown one away at the dump, dropped another one in water and has since been carrying a pretty, purple, teenage girl's phone. And so I thought, "Well, he's up for an upgrade and I've punished him with no smart phone for long enough. When he sees I got him the new Droid X on Christmas morning he's going to be SO excited (again, the child-like qualities he possesses.)"
Who knew that he'd be doing the same thing and ordering me (and himself) a phone within 4 days of each other?!?! And so, we had to make some decisions about which ones we were returning, what Verizon would do and how this happened at all! After an hour on the phone with Verizon we decided to keep the phones Brandon ordered. And so I have to try to return the one I got. WHAT A MESS!
But, beyond the mess of figuring all of this out we have new Droid X's! Our evening has since been spent searching for apps and in general trying to figure out how to work these new-fangled phones.
Crisis diverted, for now.
Tomorrow's plan? Ask Brie'n to show me how to use this thing!
Nik
This morning he just couldn't wait. "You have to open this one," he said. So I opened it. And the first words out of my mouth? "OH SHIT!"
His response: "Wow, I didn't quite expect that reaction."
Apparently, Brandon and I think a lot alike. I've been telling him for months that he isn't getting any Christmas presents because I bought him a season's pass for Stevens in August. But here's the thing. He's terrible with cell phones. In the last year he has thrown one away at the dump, dropped another one in water and has since been carrying a pretty, purple, teenage girl's phone. And so I thought, "Well, he's up for an upgrade and I've punished him with no smart phone for long enough. When he sees I got him the new Droid X on Christmas morning he's going to be SO excited (again, the child-like qualities he possesses.)"
Who knew that he'd be doing the same thing and ordering me (and himself) a phone within 4 days of each other?!?! And so, we had to make some decisions about which ones we were returning, what Verizon would do and how this happened at all! After an hour on the phone with Verizon we decided to keep the phones Brandon ordered. And so I have to try to return the one I got. WHAT A MESS!
But, beyond the mess of figuring all of this out we have new Droid X's! Our evening has since been spent searching for apps and in general trying to figure out how to work these new-fangled phones.
Crisis diverted, for now.
Tomorrow's plan? Ask Brie'n to show me how to use this thing!
Nik
Best Christmas Gift Ever
It’s a magical season – I love the hustle and bustle of trying to fit it all in: shopping, Christmas cards, pictures with Santa, tree day, decorating the house, making all the stops at friends and relatives houses, Christmas cookies, listening to the kids wishes, Christmas music (which I’ve been listening to since before Thanksgiving, thank you very much WARM 106.9), driving around looking at Christmas lights, making packages so pretty.
While my kids seem to have no problem making a list a mile long, for some reason every time I sit down to jot a few ideas down for myself I can’t think of anything I want. Before you get too envious, thinking I’m one of those people that just wishes for joy and happiness, trust me, there are things I want. And yet, I sit down with a pen and paper (or more likely my laptop and a cup of tea) and I can think of nothing.
Then, when I can think of a thing or two, I constantly debate whether it’s polite/kosher/etc. to put it on my list. Questions run through my mind like flying reindeer: Is this too expensive to ask for? Will they actually get me the one I really want? If I put all of these things on the list what if they pick the things I want least? Crap, how do I order them when I want them all? Does anyone else do this? Oh, maybe it’s just me (blush).
This year my Mom’s had a tough go of it. She had knee replacement surgery (as I’ve mentioned before) and recently threw her back out. She had asked me for a list weeks ago. I got it to her yesterday. “Too late,” she says, “I can’t go anywhere, sorry (she says with a grin in her voice).”
But, what she (and my Dad) don’t know, is she is giving me the greatest gift of all right now: time without my children. I know some of you may be thinking how horrible that thought is. I also know that any of you who have children will agree that sometimes, just sometimes, you need a break away from them.
And so, my hubby got home tonight. And we had no kids to contend with. It’s 1:15 and we are up eating snacks and watching TV…….because we don’t have anyone to wake us up in the morning.
Tomorrow, I will wrap gifts, and then maybe hit a movie and grab some dinner out.
Thanks Mom & Dad
Nik
Friday, December 17, 2010
Holiday Baking...DONE!
I woke up this morning with a list. Ok, this is not abnormal for me. I'm a lister - I make lists for everything! I rarely remember to look at them but I think it helps me remember when I write it down. And so this morning I woke up with my daily to-do wish list. Of course, like usual, it had far too much on it and there was no possible way for me to do it all. Maybe I should start putting just one thing on my list at a time; one achievable goal that I will actually get to and finish and thus give myself a feeling of accomplishment. Yeah, I don't see that happening.
Today, along with finalizing my Christmas shopping, grocery shopping, playing games with my kids, doing the chicken chores, making dinner, and doing laundry, I finished my holiday baking. Yes it is done. And tonight the ending was much happier - Diesel is currently sleeping peacefully on his bed in front of the heater.
Here's what I made today....
As well as: Pretzel Turtles (thank you very much Andrea Duffy), Rocky Road fudge, and dozens and dozens and dozens of those yummy little peanut butter balls that everyone loves so much!
It's 11:15pm. I just got finished folding 5 loads of laundry. I sat and had a cup of tea and a piece of my homemade biscotti. I'm writing my daily confessional. I'm tired. But I'm going to my Aunt Peggy's tomorrow for a Christmas gathering and so I must continue folding, getting the kids stuff packed and vacuuming. Yes, I vacuum at midnight. I know, I'm nuts.
Nik
Today, along with finalizing my Christmas shopping, grocery shopping, playing games with my kids, doing the chicken chores, making dinner, and doing laundry, I finished my holiday baking. Yes it is done. And tonight the ending was much happier - Diesel is currently sleeping peacefully on his bed in front of the heater.
Here's what I made today....
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| Cream Cheese Mints |
 |
| The stars are now decorated |
It's 11:15pm. I just got finished folding 5 loads of laundry. I sat and had a cup of tea and a piece of my homemade biscotti. I'm writing my daily confessional. I'm tired. But I'm going to my Aunt Peggy's tomorrow for a Christmas gathering and so I must continue folding, getting the kids stuff packed and vacuuming. Yes, I vacuum at midnight. I know, I'm nuts.
Nik
Thursday, December 16, 2010
The Fruits, or Cookies rather, of my Labor
Every year my mom and I make cookies. We take a day, set aside all else, and bake. Anyone who has attempted to keep up with us on Cookie Day knows the marathon of baking we do. It's not for the faint of heart.
This year my poor Momma had knee replacement surgery. Alas, she isn't really up for the Boston Marathon of baking. And so, I'm doing it by myself. I made as much dough as I could last week. Today I baked...and baked....and baked.
Here's what you can look forward to if you happen to be lucky enough to be somewhere I'm taking a cookie plate:
This year my poor Momma had knee replacement surgery. Alas, she isn't really up for the Boston Marathon of baking. And so, I'm doing it by myself. I made as much dough as I could last week. Today I baked...and baked....and baked.
Here's what you can look forward to if you happen to be lucky enough to be somewhere I'm taking a cookie plate:
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| Chocolate Stars (before chocolate drizzle and crushed candy cane) |
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| Holly Joys |
AND Andes Mint Chocolate Chip Cookies, Coconut Chew Macadamia, Biscotti, Ginger Cookies, Gingerbread Butterscotch Drops, White Chocolate Cranberry Cookies, Lemon Thyme Shortbread, Thumbprint Cookies and my Grandma's special sugar cookies!
Ahhh, my Grandma. The best baker in the world. That woman can make a delicious baked good out of anything. The last few years I have been making the sugar cookies from the mix from Costco. Nobody really ever eats them anyway. They are just pretty on the plate. But this year since I was putting them all together myself I thought, yep, going to go for Grandma's secret recipe. And so as the kids worked on homework I painstakingly rolled, cut out and baked 175 miniature sugar cookies. Set to cool in preparation for the pretty decorations they would be adorned with tomorrow. Then we went to Target.
Upon our return I drug the couple of bags we had into the kitchen to find my sugar cookies, the sugar cookies I just poured two hours of work into, mysteriously GONE! Now I imagine normal people would stand puzzled, thinking what could've happened. The container is still on the counter, and I even put the lid on. But we live with indoor horses. Their names? Brutus and Diesel. Now my dear sweet Brutus is a crotchety old man and doesn't get up much AND he knows that I would KILL him if he ate off the counter. But Diesel, our foster Irish Wolfhound/Great Dane mix, is a different story. I have caught him sniffing around numerous times. I think he figures, "Hey, I'm tall enough that my chin clears the counter by 4 inches. If I can reach it, it's for me, right?" WRONG!
And so the only one who will have gotten to enjoy Grandma's Special Sugar Cookies this year also enjoys feasting on kitty-roca. What a waste. As he stands at our backdoor, peering in because he is THAT tall, begging to come in, I shake the two cookies left in the bottom of the huge container at him and he finds something else to do for a while. Who says dogs don't have memories?
No worries about the rest of the bunch though. They are securely fastened and successfully hoisted above 6 feet. Tomorrow is candy day. Hopefully it will end better than today!
Nik
No worries about the rest of the bunch though. They are securely fastened and successfully hoisted above 6 feet. Tomorrow is candy day. Hopefully it will end better than today!
Nik
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Please, Please, Please... Don't Let Chase Win
Ok, I'll admit it....I'm a reality TV junkie. I've seen most seasons of American Idol, I love watching So You Think You Can Dance, I still watch The Real World, I'm a total sucker for Jersey Shore, I spend Sunday night watching The Amazing Race, and I have watched every season of Survivor!
And so tonight, as I watch yet another episode, the only thing I can think is PLEASE DON'T LET THE DUMBASS WIN! It happens. Year after year the least deserving person somehow pulls some voodoo magic over the jury and wins the game. It's disgusting and it makes me want to stop watching. Oh, who am I kidding? I won't stop watching.
But I will cast my useless, unheard vote in cyberspace for: anyone but Chase. Sorry, I just don't like him.
Nik
And so tonight, as I watch yet another episode, the only thing I can think is PLEASE DON'T LET THE DUMBASS WIN! It happens. Year after year the least deserving person somehow pulls some voodoo magic over the jury and wins the game. It's disgusting and it makes me want to stop watching. Oh, who am I kidding? I won't stop watching.
But I will cast my useless, unheard vote in cyberspace for: anyone but Chase. Sorry, I just don't like him.
Nik
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Enjoying "Holidays on Ice" with "6 to 8 Black Men"
I LOVE comedy. I would take a night of stand up over anything else in the world. I love to laugh. Those super deep belly laughs that make you feel like you've been working your abs, the laughs that make you hold your face in a frown because your cheeks hurt from smiling. I love seeing something so simple as a single person, standing on a dirty stage in some grungy club, talking; talking about everyday stuff with a punchline. I can't get enough.
David Sedaris is my muse. I find him to be the funniest man alive. And he can write. It is a rare book where I find myself cracking up, laughing out loud in bed, disturbing the Mister's slumber. He is a master of satire. He finds the funny in the most mundane of daily tasks or objects. He is nothing short of a comic genius.
As I find myself with the holidays creeping closer, alone with the kiddos, and currently HATING my job, I turn to him to bring a smile to my face. Did you know that they say if you can force yourself to smile you will automatically start to feel better? I don't know how true THAT is, but I do know that any one of his books and Jack on the rocks does the trick.
So if you're feeling a little blue this holiday season check out "Holidays on Ice." I guarantee you will be cracking up when you read the Santaland Diaries. Who wouldn't love a story of a short gay man dressed up as an elf?
Oh, and don't forget the whiskey...
Nik
David Sedaris is my muse. I find him to be the funniest man alive. And he can write. It is a rare book where I find myself cracking up, laughing out loud in bed, disturbing the Mister's slumber. He is a master of satire. He finds the funny in the most mundane of daily tasks or objects. He is nothing short of a comic genius.
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| http://www.barclayagency.com/sedaris.html |
So if you're feeling a little blue this holiday season check out "Holidays on Ice." I guarantee you will be cracking up when you read the Santaland Diaries. Who wouldn't love a story of a short gay man dressed up as an elf?
Oh, and don't forget the whiskey...
Nik
Monday, December 13, 2010
Life With a Carpenter (no not one of THE Carpenter's)
Today marks the 5th Monday that Brandon has been in Oroville, WA for work. What? You don't know where Oroville is? Never heard of that town? You may have seen in it this movie....gosh, what was the name.....oh, yeah, "Deliverance."
He's living in a rental house, sleeping on our Aerobed, eating the casseroles I've made him for dinner...and then lunch, and working. It's cold. It's boring. It's away from his family at the holidays. It sucks.
Meanwhile, I am working, taking kids to daycare, bathing kids, feeding kids, doing homework with kids, cleaning the house, taking care of the animals, paying the bills, baking cookies, shopping for Christmas, wrapping presents, taking care of car problems, getting the house ready for freezing temperatures, and on and on and on. It's busy. It's frustrating. It's lonely. It sucks.
The kids constantly ask when Daddy is coming home. Last week Logan asked me for the number of the boss so that he could call him and tell him to let his Daddy come home. They are acting up, they aren't minding their manners, I can't imagine what parent's going through a divorce face on a daily basis.
Until yesterday, I have been okay with the situation. It's what we've got to do right now, and so be it. He drives the 6 hours home every Friday night and takes off again on Monday morning. We're getting a paycheck. And in the winter, when you're a carpenter, in a recession, that is something to be grateful for. It wasn't until this past Sunday that it really got hard. We met Brandon in Leavenworth on Friday for a weekend of tree lighting, swimming at the hotel pool, board games, meals in restaurants, and snow. It was a pretty good weekend. But saying goodbye, even just that half day early, was tough. I wanted to cry. Lilly did. Logan just wanted to get in the car so he could play the DSi.
And so I am grateful. Grateful for the work, grateful for the paycheck that allows me to live in my super-fantastic-Christmasy house and have all the things we have. But I'm ready to be done. I want my husband back.
Nik
He's living in a rental house, sleeping on our Aerobed, eating the casseroles I've made him for dinner...and then lunch, and working. It's cold. It's boring. It's away from his family at the holidays. It sucks.
Meanwhile, I am working, taking kids to daycare, bathing kids, feeding kids, doing homework with kids, cleaning the house, taking care of the animals, paying the bills, baking cookies, shopping for Christmas, wrapping presents, taking care of car problems, getting the house ready for freezing temperatures, and on and on and on. It's busy. It's frustrating. It's lonely. It sucks.
The kids constantly ask when Daddy is coming home. Last week Logan asked me for the number of the boss so that he could call him and tell him to let his Daddy come home. They are acting up, they aren't minding their manners, I can't imagine what parent's going through a divorce face on a daily basis.
Until yesterday, I have been okay with the situation. It's what we've got to do right now, and so be it. He drives the 6 hours home every Friday night and takes off again on Monday morning. We're getting a paycheck. And in the winter, when you're a carpenter, in a recession, that is something to be grateful for. It wasn't until this past Sunday that it really got hard. We met Brandon in Leavenworth on Friday for a weekend of tree lighting, swimming at the hotel pool, board games, meals in restaurants, and snow. It was a pretty good weekend. But saying goodbye, even just that half day early, was tough. I wanted to cry. Lilly did. Logan just wanted to get in the car so he could play the DSi.
And so I am grateful. Grateful for the work, grateful for the paycheck that allows me to live in my super-fantastic-Christmasy house and have all the things we have. But I'm ready to be done. I want my husband back.
Nik
Sunday, December 12, 2010
LOVE LOVE LOVE my Christmas card from Shutterfly!
Dazzle And Shine Christmas 5x7 folded card
Make unique Christmas cards with Shutterfly.
View the entire collection of cards.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Be Happy God Damn It
Do you ever have days where you just can't snap out of a funk? Everything is irritating, your family is annoying you and no matter how much you try there's nothing you'd like better than to rip some asshole stranger up one side and down the other for not moving their f-ing ass when you've said excuse me 3 TIMES!?
Today was one of those days.
Things I like: Christmas, vacation, leisurely breakfasts, snow falling all day long, shopping, coffee, games, swimming, my family (most of the time), Leavenworth, Christmas lights, merriment and cheer, roasted chestnuts, Zots, fires burning in the road, Christmas carols, Italian food, Christmas ornaments, Santa, the joy on my kids faces when they do the chicken dance in the snow with strangers, Coke, getting my meal comp-ed when food & service are both bad, Father Christmas eating in the same restuarant as us.
Things I don't like: not sleeping well, feeling rushed to get out and do something, not finding a place to park, yelling at children to act happy, being rushed through stores, feeling responsible for someone else's experience, my kids bickering with each other, my son crying over losing a game, the way festivals are organized, constantly having to repeat my expectations to my children, rude strangers, overpriced & gross Italian food, children whining, bad driving (especially in the snow), bad service in restaurants, going to bed early.
Being one who loves movie quotes, this is what today reminded me of:
"Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse."
In case you don't know it, that's National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. I LOVE that movie.
Nik
Today was one of those days.
Things I like: Christmas, vacation, leisurely breakfasts, snow falling all day long, shopping, coffee, games, swimming, my family (most of the time), Leavenworth, Christmas lights, merriment and cheer, roasted chestnuts, Zots, fires burning in the road, Christmas carols, Italian food, Christmas ornaments, Santa, the joy on my kids faces when they do the chicken dance in the snow with strangers, Coke, getting my meal comp-ed when food & service are both bad, Father Christmas eating in the same restuarant as us.
Things I don't like: not sleeping well, feeling rushed to get out and do something, not finding a place to park, yelling at children to act happy, being rushed through stores, feeling responsible for someone else's experience, my kids bickering with each other, my son crying over losing a game, the way festivals are organized, constantly having to repeat my expectations to my children, rude strangers, overpriced & gross Italian food, children whining, bad driving (especially in the snow), bad service in restaurants, going to bed early.
 |
| Some of the "joy" part of the day |
"Where do you think you're going? Nobody's leaving. Nobody's walking out on this fun, old-fashioned family Christmas. No, no. We're all in this together. This is a full-blown, four-alarm holiday emergency here. We're gonna press on, and we're gonna have the hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny fucking Kaye. And when Santa squeezes his fat white ass down that chimney tonight, he's gonna find the jolliest bunch of assholes this side of the nuthouse."
In case you don't know it, that's National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. I LOVE that movie.
Nik
Friday, December 10, 2010
Is "Shoe Fanatic" written in genetic code?
Today we set out on a trip to Leavenworth. The plan was that I would pack everyone's stuff before we picked them up from school early to make sure we made it over the pass in the daylight. When I informed my nearly 9 year old daughter that I would be packing her stuff the response was less than positive. Here's our conversation:
Lilly: "How am I going to have clothes to wear if we leave directly from school?"
Me: "I'm going to pack your stuff."
Lilly: "Uh. How will you know what I want to bring?"
Me: "I don't care what you want to bring. I am going to bring what I feel is appropriate for the weather."
Lilly: "Well, just make sure you have my brown UGG boots, my black boots, and my snow boots. I'll have my sneakers on at school so that should be ok....unless we're going somewhere nice to eat. Then I'll need my black Mary Jane's too."
Me: "I will pack what I think is appropriate."
Lilly: funny look.
This is not unusual for her. A year or two ago we woke up one Saturday morning and were going to do our grocery shopping. "Mom! None of my shoes fit," she screamed from her bedroom. I ran upstairs to find her with all 13 pairs of shoes she owned at the time spread across her floor. "None of them fit. My feet grew overnight," she said. I tested them all out. She was right. What the hell!?! Here is a transcript of that conversation:
Mom: (frustrated) "Well, when we're out today I guess we'll pick you up some shoes. Wear your flip-flops to the store."
Lilly: (glee across her face) "OK. Here's what I need: one pair of black dress shoes, one pair of brown dress shoes, one pair of sneakers, a pair of black boots, a pair of brown boots, a pair of cute tennis shoes, and a pair of casual "jeans" shoes. That should do for now until we can replace them all."
Mom: "Uh, we'll see."
So, is there a "shoe" gene? Some genetic strain that is connected to the female species? There must be. Since Lilly was little, I mean really little, she has had an attraction to shoes. When she was 1 1/2 years old we walked into a Target and her Daddy asked her if she wanted to go look at the toys. Her response? Shoes Daddy, lets look at the shoes!
These are the ones she was in love with at the time...
You can find them still at http://www.target.com/.
Now, as her 9th birthday approaches she wants to redo her room. The theme? High heels. She thinks they're pretty. She wants dozens of pairs of them on shelves in her room. The shoe she thinks is pretty now?
Wowee! Where did my sweet little girl go? Well, at least she has good taste. Maybe she can display a pair of 8 1/2's on her wall?
By the way, you can find these shoes at http://www.parishiltonsite.net/parishiltonshoeline.php.
So maybe she has a shoe addiction. Hey, a lot of girls do. As long as she is saving her allowance or babysitting to earn her own money, she can go ahead and buy whatever shoes she likes.
I can't wait until we wear the same size!
Nik
Lilly: "How am I going to have clothes to wear if we leave directly from school?"
Me: "I'm going to pack your stuff."
Lilly: "Uh. How will you know what I want to bring?"
Me: "I don't care what you want to bring. I am going to bring what I feel is appropriate for the weather."
Lilly: "Well, just make sure you have my brown UGG boots, my black boots, and my snow boots. I'll have my sneakers on at school so that should be ok....unless we're going somewhere nice to eat. Then I'll need my black Mary Jane's too."
Me: "I will pack what I think is appropriate."
Lilly: funny look.
This is not unusual for her. A year or two ago we woke up one Saturday morning and were going to do our grocery shopping. "Mom! None of my shoes fit," she screamed from her bedroom. I ran upstairs to find her with all 13 pairs of shoes she owned at the time spread across her floor. "None of them fit. My feet grew overnight," she said. I tested them all out. She was right. What the hell!?! Here is a transcript of that conversation:
Mom: (frustrated) "Well, when we're out today I guess we'll pick you up some shoes. Wear your flip-flops to the store."
Lilly: (glee across her face) "OK. Here's what I need: one pair of black dress shoes, one pair of brown dress shoes, one pair of sneakers, a pair of black boots, a pair of brown boots, a pair of cute tennis shoes, and a pair of casual "jeans" shoes. That should do for now until we can replace them all."
Mom: "Uh, we'll see."
So, is there a "shoe" gene? Some genetic strain that is connected to the female species? There must be. Since Lilly was little, I mean really little, she has had an attraction to shoes. When she was 1 1/2 years old we walked into a Target and her Daddy asked her if she wanted to go look at the toys. Her response? Shoes Daddy, lets look at the shoes!
These are the ones she was in love with at the time...
Now, as her 9th birthday approaches she wants to redo her room. The theme? High heels. She thinks they're pretty. She wants dozens of pairs of them on shelves in her room. The shoe she thinks is pretty now?
By the way, you can find these shoes at http://www.parishiltonsite.net/parishiltonshoeline.php.
So maybe she has a shoe addiction. Hey, a lot of girls do. As long as she is saving her allowance or babysitting to earn her own money, she can go ahead and buy whatever shoes she likes.
I can't wait until we wear the same size!
Nik
Thursday, December 9, 2010
I Want a Bambi!
Ok, this is the cutest stinkin' picture. I had to share.
There are a lot of skeptics saying the picture may be a fake, but either way it's cute!
"What we've got here...is a failure to communicate."
Brandon and I speak in code: movie line code.
We love movies. We especially love certain movies. And both of us happen to be THOSE people; the people who can carry on an entire conversation using only movie lines. It's one of the reasons I think we were meant to be. It's one of those quirky things that define us. If you know us, and you're around us for even a short amount of time, you can be sure you'll hear at least one movie line.
For some people this is irritating. I guess it's the feeling of being left out. I can only equate it to how it feels when you are standing with a group of people and someone tells a joke, everyone starts laughing and you're the only one who doesn't get it. Maybe they don't know the movie. Maybe they don't get why we said that particular line at that particular time. Either way, we're sorry, but we're not changing!
Here's what irritates us: when someone tries to join in BUT gets the line wrong. It's not totally off, they probably got extremely close, but it only takes one word, or the wrong inflection, to drive us nuts.
So the next time you are with us and someone is debating whether or not they could eat the Fat Teddy Five Pound Burger at Chubby Ray's in Louisville, Kentucky and one of us says, "Ain't nobody e'er ate fitty eggs," try to figure out the movie, don't look at us with a quizzical expression.
Nik
By the way, here's a picture of that burger
We love movies. We especially love certain movies. And both of us happen to be THOSE people; the people who can carry on an entire conversation using only movie lines. It's one of the reasons I think we were meant to be. It's one of those quirky things that define us. If you know us, and you're around us for even a short amount of time, you can be sure you'll hear at least one movie line.
For some people this is irritating. I guess it's the feeling of being left out. I can only equate it to how it feels when you are standing with a group of people and someone tells a joke, everyone starts laughing and you're the only one who doesn't get it. Maybe they don't know the movie. Maybe they don't get why we said that particular line at that particular time. Either way, we're sorry, but we're not changing!
Here's what irritates us: when someone tries to join in BUT gets the line wrong. It's not totally off, they probably got extremely close, but it only takes one word, or the wrong inflection, to drive us nuts.
So the next time you are with us and someone is debating whether or not they could eat the Fat Teddy Five Pound Burger at Chubby Ray's in Louisville, Kentucky and one of us says, "Ain't nobody e'er ate fitty eggs," try to figure out the movie, don't look at us with a quizzical expression.
Nik
By the way, here's a picture of that burger
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Chi Chi didn't go to a farm in Connecticut
We live rural. In the course of my children's lives we have had many, many animals:
When the first one died Brandon and I contemplated what we would tell the kids. Do we lie? Do we stretch the truth? Will they understand? Parents often underestimate kids; they don't give them enough credit for being smart enough to see beyond our "stories" or "white lies" and suspect that we are deceiving them in some way. To me, deceit becomes distrust. And I want my kids to trust me, to believe what I say. So, we sat them down and told them the truth. Yes, the cat went missing. Yes, it is possible that it could've ran away and is now living with a nice family. But more than likely a coyote had it for lunch.
Like I said, I'm a realist. I can't see lying and having my kids run around telling stories about their pets when some other kid stops, laughs at them, and tells them their parents lied. In Season 1, episode 3 of my favorite sitcom ever, "Friends," this conversation took place:
Chandler: Yeah, it's like when you're a kid, and your parents put your dog to sleep, and they tell you it went off to live on some farm.
Ross: That's funny, that, no, because, uh, our parents actually did, uh, send our dog off to live on a farm.
Monica: Uh, Ross.
Ross: What? Wh- hello? The Millners' farm in Connecticut? The Millners, they had this unbelievable farm, they had horses, and, and rabbits that he could chase and it was- it w- .....Oh my God, Chi Chi!
The only problem is when "some kid" is my kid. At parent teacher conferences I happened to run into a fellow parent. Apparently Logan was at school chatting with one of his friends. His friend was telling him how his kitten had gone missing. His mom had told him some Disney story of what probably happened to his kitty. To which my dear five year old son replied, "That's not what happened. A coyote ate it. We've lost a few cats that way."
Ahhh, as a parent you have to run interference all the time to uphold your philosophy over others. But that's what life is, right? Dealing with everyone's beliefs and opinions? That family had a conversation they hadn't intended to have. We had one in response to the situation as well; another opportunity for us teach the kids about life, about reality. And that's okay with me, as a parent it's my job.
No, we won't have any dogs moving to farms for a better life; no rabbit that died because she missed her former family too much. When the hermit crab needs to be pulled out of his shell because he died and another one might want his shell? Well, the kids are charged with that gross job because it was their pet, and that's life.
- 6 dogs
- 6 cats
- 2 rabbits
- 2 guinea pigs
- 31 chickens
- 2 turkeys
- 4 hermit crabs
When the first one died Brandon and I contemplated what we would tell the kids. Do we lie? Do we stretch the truth? Will they understand? Parents often underestimate kids; they don't give them enough credit for being smart enough to see beyond our "stories" or "white lies" and suspect that we are deceiving them in some way. To me, deceit becomes distrust. And I want my kids to trust me, to believe what I say. So, we sat them down and told them the truth. Yes, the cat went missing. Yes, it is possible that it could've ran away and is now living with a nice family. But more than likely a coyote had it for lunch.
Like I said, I'm a realist. I can't see lying and having my kids run around telling stories about their pets when some other kid stops, laughs at them, and tells them their parents lied. In Season 1, episode 3 of my favorite sitcom ever, "Friends," this conversation took place:
Chandler: Yeah, it's like when you're a kid, and your parents put your dog to sleep, and they tell you it went off to live on some farm.
Ross: That's funny, that, no, because, uh, our parents actually did, uh, send our dog off to live on a farm.
Monica: Uh, Ross.
Ross: What? Wh- hello? The Millners' farm in Connecticut? The Millners, they had this unbelievable farm, they had horses, and, and rabbits that he could chase and it was- it w- .....Oh my God, Chi Chi!
The only problem is when "some kid" is my kid. At parent teacher conferences I happened to run into a fellow parent. Apparently Logan was at school chatting with one of his friends. His friend was telling him how his kitten had gone missing. His mom had told him some Disney story of what probably happened to his kitty. To which my dear five year old son replied, "That's not what happened. A coyote ate it. We've lost a few cats that way."
Ahhh, as a parent you have to run interference all the time to uphold your philosophy over others. But that's what life is, right? Dealing with everyone's beliefs and opinions? That family had a conversation they hadn't intended to have. We had one in response to the situation as well; another opportunity for us teach the kids about life, about reality. And that's okay with me, as a parent it's my job.
No, we won't have any dogs moving to farms for a better life; no rabbit that died because she missed her former family too much. When the hermit crab needs to be pulled out of his shell because he died and another one might want his shell? Well, the kids are charged with that gross job because it was their pet, and that's life.
To Christmas card, or not to Christmas card?
Worth it or not?
As I ponder whether or not I want to send an actual Christmas card in this day of blogging, and Facebook, and email, I wonder what you think about sending and receiving Christmas cards. Are they worth the time and effort? Do the people receiving them really appreciate getting a picture of your kids?
Every year I go back and forth about whether I'm going to do Christmas cards. And further, if I'm going to write the cliche Christmas letter. This year I've nixed the Christmas letter. I spend enough time letting people know what we are doing on Facebook, and now on my blog, that I don't think it's necessary. As for the card, I think I'm going to order them. One of my favorite parts of the holiday is receiving cards in the mail, seeing my friends and family in their Christmas-y best and posting them on my fridge for the rest of the year. I teach my kids to do to others as they would like to have done to them. I guess that means I'm sending the cards!
Last year I got my cards from Shutterfly (http://www.shutterfly.com/) and they were SO cute. This year I'm even more impressed by their selection, especially with the cardstock photo cards. Which one do you like?
Nik
As I ponder whether or not I want to send an actual Christmas card in this day of blogging, and Facebook, and email, I wonder what you think about sending and receiving Christmas cards. Are they worth the time and effort? Do the people receiving them really appreciate getting a picture of your kids?
Every year I go back and forth about whether I'm going to do Christmas cards. And further, if I'm going to write the cliche Christmas letter. This year I've nixed the Christmas letter. I spend enough time letting people know what we are doing on Facebook, and now on my blog, that I don't think it's necessary. As for the card, I think I'm going to order them. One of my favorite parts of the holiday is receiving cards in the mail, seeing my friends and family in their Christmas-y best and posting them on my fridge for the rest of the year. I teach my kids to do to others as they would like to have done to them. I guess that means I'm sending the cards!
Last year I got my cards from Shutterfly (http://www.shutterfly.com/) and they were SO cute. This year I'm even more impressed by their selection, especially with the cardstock photo cards. Which one do you like?
Do you like the one big picture? Or the multiples?
Nik
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Beginning the Journey
While I've always enjoyed writing, I had an English teacher in 9th grade who inspired and challenged me to push the boudaries of my creativity; to put some real effort into developing a piece of writing instead of spewing whatever came to mind first (which I probably would've pulled a solid A minus on anyway!) I excelled in that class and it created the foundation for my writing ability throughout college and beyond. I've been known to create insightful and thought provoking writing; sometimes about a subject I know nothing about!
I love the written language. I like the shape of the letters and how different words look in different fonts. I like the fact that the English language is so convoluted in its rules, or guidelines, and yet I am an excellent speller. For me writing is an outlet, an accomplishment, and my most successful way of communicating.
When I graduated from High School I told that teacher that I would dedicate my first book to him. Sadly, it remains unwritten. But here I am attempting this journal of sorts: things that happen, things I wish for, things I like, things I don't, and generally documenting my life story. It's no book Mr. Hamel, but I will still dedicate it to you! Thank you for one of the greatest gifts I posess!
Nik
I love the written language. I like the shape of the letters and how different words look in different fonts. I like the fact that the English language is so convoluted in its rules, or guidelines, and yet I am an excellent speller. For me writing is an outlet, an accomplishment, and my most successful way of communicating.
When I graduated from High School I told that teacher that I would dedicate my first book to him. Sadly, it remains unwritten. But here I am attempting this journal of sorts: things that happen, things I wish for, things I like, things I don't, and generally documenting my life story. It's no book Mr. Hamel, but I will still dedicate it to you! Thank you for one of the greatest gifts I posess!
Nik
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