Christmas Baby

Written on December 29, 2011 by in Lucky Me, marriage, Men?

Today is Tate’s 25th* birthday! I know that people who have Christmas babies swear that they’ll always take care to separate Christmas from the birthday, present and attention wise. When I married Tate, I even told myself that I’d never fall into the habit of glossing over his birthday so close to Christmas, or tell him that his Christmas present was also his birthday gift.  Merry Christmas AND Happy Birthday!  Sorry I’m too cheap to get you another gift, sucker!

So here I sit feeling guilty this December 29th because the Christmas gift I bought for him also counts as his birthday gift. It was a really expensive gift, though, and my PayPal account is now empty. So…

I like for people to fuss over me on my birthday, make like it’s an important day. Maybe that makes me silly or childish, but I like feeling that I’m special to other people.

As much as I complain about my husband, he is a pretty good guy.  Actually, he’s a really good guy.  I wish that putting Christmas together didn’t overwhelm me, then drain me of my enthusiasm to celebrate.

I will make him carne asada for dinner and Ella is going to whip up a delicious Devil’s food whoopie pie with her Easy Bake Oven. He’ll open his card from me and maybe if I can convince the kids to sit down long enough, they’ll even draw him a picture or color something for him from their SpongeBob or My Little Pony coloring books.

Maybe his present could be that I won’t complain even once about what he chooses to watch on TV tonight.

Happy birthday, Tate. I’m sorry I stink at post-Christmas birthdays.

*He’s not really 25.  Let’s just pretend, okay?  It’s just that every year that HE gets older means that I also get older.

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Hope your holiday season is merry and bright and that a cleaning elf will show up and help you clean up the aftermath

Written on December 23, 2011 by in Pictures

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Festivus, Happy Everything.

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Christmas Arrives Unexpectedly, Surprising Families Everywhere

Written on December 20, 2011 by in Quirky Me, Randomness

I’ve seen at least a million status updates or tweets referring to the shock that Christmas is THIS SUNDAY! OH EM GEE!

It’s amazing that a holiday that for centuries has been on December 25th, can completely floor us with it’s arrival.  If there wasn’t so much to do to prepare for this one twenty-four hour period, maybe we would feel better prepared for it’s arrival?

The good news is that I am 100% done with shopping. (Imagine that I’m doing the Arsenio Hall arm pump thingy accompanied by some hooting.)  However, I’m not done wrapping, meal planning, or cleaning.  I was kinda sorta hoping for your help, kind reader, with the meal planning part.

We have already had one Christmas with Tate’s side of the family where we served turkey AND we had turkey at Thanksgiving AND I’m plain sick of turkey.  One of our Christmas guests doesn’t eat ham.  I’m completely baffled about what I should make for our Christmas dinner! My husband suggested venison.  I suggested he stop talking nonsense.

Do you have any good ideas for what I could serve?  Please and THANK YOU.

(photo source)

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If you’re one of those people who’s already done with cookingcleaningshoppingwrapping and are looking for some most excellent reads, here are a few to keep you busy.  No, no…YOU’RE welcome.

Answering the door, scantily clad, for the delivery man was at least better than Ella answering the door without me around.

We discussed eggnog here a few years back, but it’s a very, VERY important subject, yes? My son had some very pointed words to say about eggnog.

I was interviewed at Care.com regarding my thoughts on New Year’s resolutions.  I think your early resolution could be to click RIGHT HERE.

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The moral of the story is this: Don’t seek comfort with Taco Bell

Written on December 14, 2011 by in Huh?, Quirky Me

If I showed you my calendar you might weep.  Everyday there’s a party or someone *ahem the SCHOOL* needs something for a party. There are presents to be wrapped, toilets to be scrubbed, and crafts to be completed.  Don’t forget the crafts!

So this calendar o’ mine, I have very carefully coordinated each and every activity, party, and craft into every spare minute that I have.  It would all be going swimmingly if it weren’t for the unexpected birthday party invitation my son received for a party on a TUESDAY night (ALL CAPS because it’s SCHOOLNIGHTOUTRAGE). My son, he was so excited about this birthday party.

“It’s at Chuck E. Cheese, Mom!  I can’t wait!” he said.  His giddiness equally matched my irritation.

Tuesday night I was supposed to go out with my book club and discuss books. And by “discuss books,” I really mean, stuff myself silly with chips, guacamole, and enchiladas while sipping a margarita.  Topped with a TUESDAY SCHOOLNIGHTOUTRAGE birthday party, I was feeling a little sorry for myself.  I mean, I’d already carefully coordinated my schedule just for the promise of Mexican food and libations.  I’d turned down other parties so that I could go to this one.

Whine. Pout. Stomp. Frumple Face.

I didn’t get a chance to eat dinner before taking Carson to the party.  It just wasn’t scheduled on the calendar, so by the time the party was over (8:00 on a SCHOOLNIGHTOUTRAGE), I was starving.  Since my Mexican food bonanza had been cancelled, I decided that the only this that could soothe my sad, sad heart was a quick trip through the drive through at Taco Bell.

This is when a good friend sitting in the passenger seat could have really helped a girl out because a six-year-old in the backseat only serves to egg you on.  A good friend would have talked me out of a trip to Taco Bell, but my son thought it was a GREAT idea.

“You LOVE tacos, Mom,” he reminded me.  Indeed, that is true.  I love tacos, but I really love tacos that come from places that don’t serve food out of a drive through window.

At home I devoured my Taco Bell order, dejected. I even managed to meet my goal of “stuffing myself silly,” but it didn’t take away the fact that instead of having fun at a much needed night away with friends, I spent an evening at Chuck E. Cheese with 20 kabillion very excited children. Instead of feeling better about the whole situation, I just felt gross AND sad.

The moral of the story is this: Don’t seek comfort with Taco Bell.  I hope you’ll find this tip very helpful in your times of need this busy holiday season.

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Mario and Sonic and Carson and Ella at the London 2012 Olympic Games

Written on December 13, 2011 by in Little Monkeys, playing along

We received SEGA’s family friendly game, Mario & Sonic at the London 2012 Olympic Games (affiliate link) as part of a family game night package that also included popcorn, nuts, and candy for free.  I received no other compensation. All opinions are my own…and my children’s own. 

Left to their own devices, my children, especially Carson, would love nothing more than to spend all day, every day playing Wii.  I’ve had to set limits on Wii play, they’re only allowed to play on the weekends and only for two hours.

Both kids love all things Mario. We are well stocked with Mario games, their favorites being Mario Sports Mix and Mario Kart. These games can easily be played by young kids, unlike several games in our library that cause nothing but screaming fits because they are so complicated.  I’d seen Mario & Sonic at the London 2012 Olympic Games advertised and had considered it for a Christmas gift for them, so I was VERY excited that I was contacted to review the game with the kids.  When it came in the mail I just couldn’t wait until Christmas to give it to them.

Luckily Carson, age six, and Ella, age four, both easily picked up on how to play Mario & Sonic at the London 2012 Olympic Games. Ella actually loses interest pretty quickly in playing Wii, but she loves to watch her brother battle it out as one of the characters in discus, swimming, volleyball, track, and gymnastics.

Carson loves the new-to-him characters like Sonic and Vector the Crocodile.  His favorite game to play is the 4 x 100 meter relay, with Sonic, Silver, Shadow, and Knuckles.

“Watch this cool trick, Mom,” he’ll say as one of the Sonic characters performs some cool stunt that puts them in the lead.

This game is apparently not just for kids. After Carson and Ella were carefully tucked in bed, I caught my husband picking up the Wii remote to play a little Mario & Sonic.  I keep catching him as Sonic on the parallel bars in the gymnastics game.

This game is available for Wii right now!  Which? Is perfect for Christmas!  It will be available for the Nintendo 3DS in February.

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I Think Pearl Jam Can Sum Up My Feelings About Albert Pujols

Written on December 11, 2011 by in Uncategorized

The sun came up this morning.  I almost expected it to never rise again after Friday, but there it is every morning, blinding my already puffy eyes.  Yesterday at the grocery store, the people around me seemed nonchalant, if not downright happy, and all I wanted to do was scream at them, “HOW CAN YOU ALL JUST GO ON LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED! Can’t you see that I’m dying on the inside?!”

But I live in Tennessee, so I guess to most people around me, nothing significant has happened. They don’t know that I, and the millions of others in Cardinals Nation, have lost the love of our lives.

On Friday, we learned that Albert Pujols, arguably the greatest baseball player of my generation, was leaving us for the equivalent of a tall blonde with perky boobs and, oh right, $254 million. Goodbye St. Louis, hello sunny and warm LA.  As much as I’m relieved that he didn’t leave us for the Chicago Cubs, maybe it would hurt less if he were leaving us for someone hideously ugly.  Like Siberia. Yes I know there isn’t a baseball team in Siberia, THAT ISN’T THE POINT, OKAY?!

It just really hurts, you know?  To think you know someone and to find out that they aren’t who you thought they were…this is going to take some time to get over. I thought that we would be together forever, building our life and creating memories and winning more World Series together.  I thought that one day we’d build him a statue to stand near the one we built for Stan the Man Musial. And now for it all to just end?  WE LOVED HIM and now we know that he just didn’t love us the same way.  He’s just like the rest of them, chasing money.

Really, I should have seen the signs, but I couldn’t allow myself to ever imagine that our relationship would end.  When discussion of our relationship was put on hold in the spring, that’s when I should have known. Now I’m learning that he didn’t treat us with as much respect as we wanted and deserved.   Maybe he’s not as deserving as the pedestal where we as Cardinals Nation placed him, but my heart doesn’t understand this yet.

So for today, I want to wallow in my own misery of Albert Pujols leaving us. Please excuse me while I put on some PJs, grab a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, and listen to Pearl Jam’s Black on repeat.

“I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life,
I know you’ll be a sun in somebody else’s sky, but why
Why, why can’t it be, can’t it be mine”

Why? Only 254 million reasons why.

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The best babysitter award that I really didn’t want to hand out

Written on December 5, 2011 by in Little Monkeys

So, if you read my last post, you may have learned that I’m a bit…neurotic.  Maybe I tend to overthink things a bit.  I just…I, well, I wish that maybe I would have written that post, pressed “Save Draft,” then re-read it later and rolled my eyes at myself.  It’s not that I am not worried about over indulging my children on Christmas, I AM, but I think that perhaps I was a bit melodramatic about it and blaming poor ol’ Santa.  I think what it’s really all about is that my house is a mess and frankly, I’m already tired thinking about putting away all their new toys.

Thanks for your supportive comments.  And by supportive comments I mean, I could hear you sighing and shaking your head at me, but then gently smiling and telling me what I needed to hear.  You guys, we would so totally be friends in real life.

Okay, so let’s move on and pretend that I’m a totally normal, well adjusted human being that doesn’t project her feelings on unsuspecting bearded men wearing red suits!

Saturday night was my husband’s annual work Christmas party.  Since our babysitter was totally SELFISH and decided to go away to college (RUDE!), I had to find someone new to stay with Carson and Ella.

Let me back up a bit and tell you that both of my children had been sick, Carson especially so, but on Saturday they both seemed FINE.  Perfectly fine!  Healthy, even.  Carson seemed to be over his “puke in bed every night” illness, so I wasn’t worried about leaving him with a babysitter.  OH THE FORESHADOWING.

When the new babysitter arrived, Tate asked her about what she was studying in school.  Turns out that our new babysitter is training to be a paramedic, which fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) came in quite handy while she was on duty.

It was the pile of Carson’s sheets, his PJs, and Lou Bear by the laundry room that we found as soon as we got home that was the first clue.

I expected to find pure chaos when I found the babysitter and Carson. If I had ever had to deal with puke as a babysitter, I would have freaked the freak out! The babysitter, looking calm yet concerned, was just toweling off a freshly bathed and very pale Carson when I found them.  Apparently my poor little guy had puked in his bed and had some other “issues” of the bottom.  Super Paramedic Babysitter had already cleaned him AND his room up.

I apologized profusely to her for having left her with a sick kid and having to deal with vomit, etc.  She seemed completely unfazed.  “It’s just body fluids,” she said. “And it easier to deal with when it’s from a cute kid.”

“Just body fluids” that don’t belong to your own child, cute or not, are still BODY FLUIDS of the disgusting kind.

I felt like I should pay her double, no quadruple, and then offer to send her on an all expense paid trip to Jamaica or something.

And on top of all that, she’d cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. She wins at babysitting.

I’m not sure if I can ever call her again to babysit after all this.  I mean, can I?

 

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