Here I go! Already. On Saturday. At 7am.
Chore List
1. Wrap some presents (while the girls sleep)
2. Get pine garland and lights on top of kitchen cabinets
3. Finish decorating the basement
4. Hang wreaths on windows
5. Try to finish up shopping (probably isn't going to happen)
6. laundry
7. make chicken picata for dinner
8. start to address Christmas cards
9. ride M about finishing her Bandwich sales for the month
10. Work on figuring out who dropped a Secret Santa gift for me on the porch yesterday
I've wrapped three gifts so far this morning. How much more productive I manage to be is hard to say.
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Friday, December 04, 2009
FRIDAY! Amen!!
My TGIF started with an ugh! because I had to drag my warm self into the cold 23* outside world in order to get M to school for a DECA before-school-starts-meeting. I know I have stated before but I'll state it again, I HATE DRIVING TO SCHOOL! The bus is why I pay taxes.
Then I progressed into the double ugh of TGIF. Why can't kids wear a pair of socks? My kids always seem to have two different socks on, which leaves me with the other two different socks that match the ones on the kids feet. By the time I found a matching pair I realized I could no longer wear the shoes I intended, so I was stuck wearing boots. When I wake in the morning I can sense what kind of shoes my feet feel like dragging my body around on all day--and it didn't say boots today. It was reading black Sketchers.
Let's go for triple ugh. We have lived in our house for 17 years. For 17 years one of my closest doors doesn't open. So when my mound of shoes decides to spread to the other side of abyss I have to eject the whole sea of shoes from the darkness. Which causes me to get off schedule. And get crabby. Which means I have to call King Ralph as I drive to work to tell him the next home improvement is new closest doors or I am taking an ax the exsisting ones. I think in that moment I was not kidding.
Let's go for the quad ugh. Tomorrow will be a week since I fell to the ground face first. I only told a few co-workers the story of my stupidity and managed my make-up to cover the mark of said stupidity very well. However today I had to tell my story at least 10 times as I heard "do you know you have a bruise on your cheek?" Either my make-up failed or the olive green blouse I wore under the florescent lights highlighted the yellowish tint my bruise now shows. (the only good in all this I got the grass stain out of my favorite white t-shirt). The tender touch to the cheek bone has almost subsided as well. I still can't figure out how or why I fell?
For every uhg there is an aaaaahhhh. Driving the girls to school means I got to listen to the Josh Grobin Christmas CD which plays one of my favorite songs, "Thankful", one extra time this morning; allowing me to remember how pretty D and the Limelight [choir] sounded Monday singing the song at their Christmas concert. Wearing my boots made putting on my Slipper Genie that much more sweet when I got home. Telling the story of me falling on my face got a few chuckles so some how my stupdity added humor to a crazy Friday.
So what's left...making the long list of Saturday chores.
Then I progressed into the double ugh of TGIF. Why can't kids wear a pair of socks? My kids always seem to have two different socks on, which leaves me with the other two different socks that match the ones on the kids feet. By the time I found a matching pair I realized I could no longer wear the shoes I intended, so I was stuck wearing boots. When I wake in the morning I can sense what kind of shoes my feet feel like dragging my body around on all day--and it didn't say boots today. It was reading black Sketchers.
Let's go for triple ugh. We have lived in our house for 17 years. For 17 years one of my closest doors doesn't open. So when my mound of shoes decides to spread to the other side of abyss I have to eject the whole sea of shoes from the darkness. Which causes me to get off schedule. And get crabby. Which means I have to call King Ralph as I drive to work to tell him the next home improvement is new closest doors or I am taking an ax the exsisting ones. I think in that moment I was not kidding.
Let's go for the quad ugh. Tomorrow will be a week since I fell to the ground face first. I only told a few co-workers the story of my stupidity and managed my make-up to cover the mark of said stupidity very well. However today I had to tell my story at least 10 times as I heard "do you know you have a bruise on your cheek?" Either my make-up failed or the olive green blouse I wore under the florescent lights highlighted the yellowish tint my bruise now shows. (the only good in all this I got the grass stain out of my favorite white t-shirt). The tender touch to the cheek bone has almost subsided as well. I still can't figure out how or why I fell?
For every uhg there is an aaaaahhhh. Driving the girls to school means I got to listen to the Josh Grobin Christmas CD which plays one of my favorite songs, "Thankful", one extra time this morning; allowing me to remember how pretty D and the Limelight [choir] sounded Monday singing the song at their Christmas concert. Wearing my boots made putting on my Slipper Genie that much more sweet when I got home. Telling the story of me falling on my face got a few chuckles so some how my stupdity added humor to a crazy Friday.
So what's left...making the long list of Saturday chores.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
It's Not the Wine Speaking It's the Tree
This morning I woke to the weatherman saying words like “snow” and “dropping temperatures”. It is words like that, which cause me to have to rethink the wardrobe choices for my feet. I went from comfy flip-flops, to “real” shoes that were open toed. Then I progressed to the next level of “real” shoes that were closed toed. Then was today, today I searched the socks basket for black trouser socks so I could survive thirty minutes of recess duty. Closed toed shoes, trouser socks, and all this workingwoman fashion requirement stuff made for this relaxing evening.
I sit here this evening my feet warm in their black socks, eating a grilled chicken salad with blue cheese dressing while sipping a couple of glasses of moscato wine (left from Thanksgiving and who wants to see good wine go to waste?) and starring at the Christmas tree in the great room.
My tree, our tree all-aglow frosted in its 1500 white sparkling lights speak to me. I stare at it and it tells me stories, stories of friends, family and times of growing, and traveling. This year I placed smack in the front middle of the tree a new s’more ornament that my friend Georganne gave me and Sylvia when we met for the world’s longest, and best, breakfast date—a memento of our days as camp counselors in the Covered Wagons unit. When I look at that ornament it warms my heart that I have friends I enjoy being with. I see an ornament from Mount Rushmore and my mind starts to travel back to the month long camping trip we took across the west and the miles we tracked hiking in the mountains and the laughs we shared as a family. I spot the hand blown glass Biltmore Mansion ornament, remembering the beauty and grandeur of the home. Then there is the St.Louis Cathedral ornament I bought this summer when I took a group of teens to New Orleans for the youth gathering--great time that was! I see the U.S Capitol ornament I bought the year we met up with my Air Force pilot nephew in Washington DC. I see the Disney World and Disneyland mementos hanging from the lighted branches. I see ornaments showing hometown support of sport teams. I see ornaments that King Ralph’s aunt’s loving hands needlepointed into small lace trimmed soft pillows that read “First Christmas’ and the birth dates of the girls. I see ornaments that my aunt and uncle sent from Chicago. I see a blue glittery snowflake made of interlink craft sticks, a craft ornament M made with her friends at her ninth birthday “craft and crash” birthday slumber party. I see hand crafted memorial ornaments honoring the passing of King Ralph’s maternal great-grandmother and grandmother. I see a snowman wearing his Michigan jersey reminding my sister and her family now live miles from here. At the top of the tree is an angel made of cream-colored cornhusk that I crafted and has survived many of basement floods. Oh the stories they each tell.
Each ornament has meaning and memory. Each tells its own story. What is your tree telling you?
I sit here this evening my feet warm in their black socks, eating a grilled chicken salad with blue cheese dressing while sipping a couple of glasses of moscato wine (left from Thanksgiving and who wants to see good wine go to waste?) and starring at the Christmas tree in the great room.
My tree, our tree all-aglow frosted in its 1500 white sparkling lights speak to me. I stare at it and it tells me stories, stories of friends, family and times of growing, and traveling. This year I placed smack in the front middle of the tree a new s’more ornament that my friend Georganne gave me and Sylvia when we met for the world’s longest, and best, breakfast date—a memento of our days as camp counselors in the Covered Wagons unit. When I look at that ornament it warms my heart that I have friends I enjoy being with. I see an ornament from Mount Rushmore and my mind starts to travel back to the month long camping trip we took across the west and the miles we tracked hiking in the mountains and the laughs we shared as a family. I spot the hand blown glass Biltmore Mansion ornament, remembering the beauty and grandeur of the home. Then there is the St.Louis Cathedral ornament I bought this summer when I took a group of teens to New Orleans for the youth gathering--great time that was! I see the U.S Capitol ornament I bought the year we met up with my Air Force pilot nephew in Washington DC. I see the Disney World and Disneyland mementos hanging from the lighted branches. I see ornaments showing hometown support of sport teams. I see ornaments that King Ralph’s aunt’s loving hands needlepointed into small lace trimmed soft pillows that read “First Christmas’ and the birth dates of the girls. I see ornaments that my aunt and uncle sent from Chicago. I see a blue glittery snowflake made of interlink craft sticks, a craft ornament M made with her friends at her ninth birthday “craft and crash” birthday slumber party. I see hand crafted memorial ornaments honoring the passing of King Ralph’s maternal great-grandmother and grandmother. I see a snowman wearing his Michigan jersey reminding my sister and her family now live miles from here. At the top of the tree is an angel made of cream-colored cornhusk that I crafted and has survived many of basement floods. Oh the stories they each tell.
Each ornament has meaning and memory. Each tells its own story. What is your tree telling you?
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Black Friday Curse
Every year since I started waking with the questionably insane people to shop on Black Friday I question my own insanity. Now King Ralph, who began joining me last year in the name of marital bonding (or was it watchful eye on the spending?), has begun to question his own saneness.
When the alarm went off at 4:15am King Ralph and I sprung from bed, slipped on whatever clothes we could find--mine being more of acceptable presentation than King Ralph's--and headed out the door. We arrived at Wal-Mart by 440am and immediately went to the area in which we intended to purchase the coveted item on the Black Friday advertisement. No it wasn't the fake hamster. This is the moment, the first in my many years of the day after turkey, that I questioned my sanity in the quest to save money. Being that Wal-mart remained open 24-hours the vultures were ever present inside the store way before the 5am start of the sale. Wal-Mart started handing out item tickets before 5am and of course by the time I got there they were all gone. Then King Ralph headed to the second coveted item area only to watch someone snatch up the last one. We left not mad that we didn't get what we wanted but that Wal-Mart handed out item tickets before 5am. King Ralph vowing never to shop on Black Friday.
Then shopping away we went...till 830am.
And, again on Saturday.
It was Saturday that the curse of Black Friday got me. I was home alone, King Ralph out riding his motorcycle with the guys and the daughters out shopping together. I decided to sit on the deck soaking up the Indian summer day when I walked in the house to grab the over flowing kitchen trash to take out. I was walking along our board walk with the heavy bag of trash when I lost my footing (how I still can't figure) and went down face first. I hit that ground half my head hit the board walk and half hit the grass. I laid there my face,no my whole head, aching then I rolled over. The sky looked a beautiful blue and I spotted a large squirrels nest in the naked maple tree. I laid there thinking good thing I didn't hurt myself worse because the backyard neighbor was gone and the side neighbor is a vampire so he was coming out in the day light nor could he see me through his constant closed blinds. Then I raised and got ice on my face and noticed I had a huge grass stain on my favorite white t-shirt.
Long story short I had this swollen right side of my face that has now gone down but I am left with a big bruised area on my cheek bone, a bruise on the bend of my foot and sore ribs and arms (from trying to brace my fall). M thought I needed to concoct a better story. To which I replied how much better can a forty-something woman falling on her face when she is taking trash out get? It can't.
I tell you it is the curse of Black Friday...and being aggravated with Wal-Mart.
When the alarm went off at 4:15am King Ralph and I sprung from bed, slipped on whatever clothes we could find--mine being more of acceptable presentation than King Ralph's--and headed out the door. We arrived at Wal-Mart by 440am and immediately went to the area in which we intended to purchase the coveted item on the Black Friday advertisement. No it wasn't the fake hamster. This is the moment, the first in my many years of the day after turkey, that I questioned my sanity in the quest to save money. Being that Wal-mart remained open 24-hours the vultures were ever present inside the store way before the 5am start of the sale. Wal-Mart started handing out item tickets before 5am and of course by the time I got there they were all gone. Then King Ralph headed to the second coveted item area only to watch someone snatch up the last one. We left not mad that we didn't get what we wanted but that Wal-Mart handed out item tickets before 5am. King Ralph vowing never to shop on Black Friday.
Then shopping away we went...till 830am.
And, again on Saturday.
It was Saturday that the curse of Black Friday got me. I was home alone, King Ralph out riding his motorcycle with the guys and the daughters out shopping together. I decided to sit on the deck soaking up the Indian summer day when I walked in the house to grab the over flowing kitchen trash to take out. I was walking along our board walk with the heavy bag of trash when I lost my footing (how I still can't figure) and went down face first. I hit that ground half my head hit the board walk and half hit the grass. I laid there my face,no my whole head, aching then I rolled over. The sky looked a beautiful blue and I spotted a large squirrels nest in the naked maple tree. I laid there thinking good thing I didn't hurt myself worse because the backyard neighbor was gone and the side neighbor is a vampire so he was coming out in the day light nor could he see me through his constant closed blinds. Then I raised and got ice on my face and noticed I had a huge grass stain on my favorite white t-shirt.
Long story short I had this swollen right side of my face that has now gone down but I am left with a big bruised area on my cheek bone, a bruise on the bend of my foot and sore ribs and arms (from trying to brace my fall). M thought I needed to concoct a better story. To which I replied how much better can a forty-something woman falling on her face when she is taking trash out get? It can't.
I tell you it is the curse of Black Friday...and being aggravated with Wal-Mart.
Friday, November 27, 2009
I've Got A Turkey Day Hangover
I am totally exhausted. I’d like to go to bed for about twelve hours. That would be without the pumpkin pie/whip cream IV or an alarm clock waking me at 4:15am to shop Black Friday door busters (we’ll discuss that later). Even tough I did not gorge myself to discomfort, every meal of late is a plate filled with the Thanksgiving high caloric foods that pleasure the comfort of one’s soul [and stomach].
I am merely exhausted because—although my offspring helped much the spousal unit did not. The offspring were to funny on Wednesday evening after we finished setting the table. There we all stood (or sat, King Ralph) gazing at the beautiful stretched set table for twenty when I commented how warm my heart felt and how beautiful our family was when Princess A said “until you start freaking tomorrow” and she proceeded to imitate me in one of my mom moments when the girls disappoint. We all laughed, even me. King Ralph couldn’t really help much as he threw his back out. He tried an “emergency” visit on Wednesday to the chiropractor to insure he would be able to perform his assigned pre-host duties (scrubbing bathtub and floors) but the snap and pop was a fail. It seems funny how these accidents happen…last Christmas his foot was broken and it was the offspring and I stringing lights on the eaves and dragging the beastly tree from the basement minus male assistance --only direction from the grounded casted foot man.
Despite King Ralph’s lack of helping hands we had a fabulous meal. My brined turkey never fails us; always the juiciest bird in town. My stuffing had a perfect blend of Thanksgiving flavors and my gravy, the best, as usual. It was all served on our beautifully set table with only one 14-year-old cousin thinking his gold charger was his dinner plate. Being he is male we gave him a larger margin of etiquette error.
We had cousins stop by before and after dinner to add to the joy of the day. King Ralph's oldest sister made it just in time to eat before we cleaned the dinner up to let the desserts have there moment of glory on the table. (My poor sister-in-law held out on dinner at her in-law's to eat my cooking as her in-law's meal "sucks").
While King Ralph and his sister had intended to make a toast of Thanksgiving in honor of their mother [and what this Thanksgiving meant to us all due to her] after grace and before we hit the bountiful buffet, they could not bring themselves too. It was apparent in Mom’s husband’s eyes the minute he entered our house that he was over flowing with the emotion of blessing this Thanksgiving offered him and us. They decided the day should be all smiles with no fountains of tears. George has tendered over the years and more so over the last several months. The fact my mother-in-law’s sister colored her fresh crop of hair restoring her to her pre-surgery looking self was a deeply emotional moment for George. So my sister-in-law made a simple generic but warm toast…then we feasted.
We played games, our favorite “Catch Phrase” and at 7pm we headed to the movie (minus the old man with the bad back) to see “Old Dogs.” It was a great day. Every ounce of exhaustion was totally worth it!
Here is Uncle Dan’s slimmed down video of the day and a few snap shots of the day.
I am merely exhausted because—although my offspring helped much the spousal unit did not. The offspring were to funny on Wednesday evening after we finished setting the table. There we all stood (or sat, King Ralph) gazing at the beautiful stretched set table for twenty when I commented how warm my heart felt and how beautiful our family was when Princess A said “until you start freaking tomorrow” and she proceeded to imitate me in one of my mom moments when the girls disappoint. We all laughed, even me. King Ralph couldn’t really help much as he threw his back out. He tried an “emergency” visit on Wednesday to the chiropractor to insure he would be able to perform his assigned pre-host duties (scrubbing bathtub and floors) but the snap and pop was a fail. It seems funny how these accidents happen…last Christmas his foot was broken and it was the offspring and I stringing lights on the eaves and dragging the beastly tree from the basement minus male assistance --only direction from the grounded casted foot man.
Despite King Ralph’s lack of helping hands we had a fabulous meal. My brined turkey never fails us; always the juiciest bird in town. My stuffing had a perfect blend of Thanksgiving flavors and my gravy, the best, as usual. It was all served on our beautifully set table with only one 14-year-old cousin thinking his gold charger was his dinner plate. Being he is male we gave him a larger margin of etiquette error.
We had cousins stop by before and after dinner to add to the joy of the day. King Ralph's oldest sister made it just in time to eat before we cleaned the dinner up to let the desserts have there moment of glory on the table. (My poor sister-in-law held out on dinner at her in-law's to eat my cooking as her in-law's meal "sucks").
While King Ralph and his sister had intended to make a toast of Thanksgiving in honor of their mother [and what this Thanksgiving meant to us all due to her] after grace and before we hit the bountiful buffet, they could not bring themselves too. It was apparent in Mom’s husband’s eyes the minute he entered our house that he was over flowing with the emotion of blessing this Thanksgiving offered him and us. They decided the day should be all smiles with no fountains of tears. George has tendered over the years and more so over the last several months. The fact my mother-in-law’s sister colored her fresh crop of hair restoring her to her pre-surgery looking self was a deeply emotional moment for George. So my sister-in-law made a simple generic but warm toast…then we feasted.
We played games, our favorite “Catch Phrase” and at 7pm we headed to the movie (minus the old man with the bad back) to see “Old Dogs.” It was a great day. Every ounce of exhaustion was totally worth it!
Here is Uncle Dan’s slimmed down video of the day and a few snap shots of the day.
Cousins thankful to be cousin.
A son thankful for his mother.
Grand daughters thankful for a grandma.
A wife thankful for a husband and a husband thankful for a wife...and his new glasses so can see.
Sisters thankful for each other.
Family thankful to gather and to feast together.
Game time. Uncle Dan, optically challenged dude, that magnifier just won't do.
But this one will. Uncle Dan thankful for the monster of magnifiers.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Year After Year My Cornucopia Runneth Over
Without fail I find much to be thankful for year after year, large and small. This year proves no different. Here is a list of the things I am thankful for, despite the list format I am thankful in no particular order except one and two--in exactly that order.
1. God
2. Family
3. Sunshine
4. Alee Pal time
5. Maddi Pal time
6. Demi Pal time
7. the dog in all her insane aggravation
8. white chili
9. clean underwear
10. toilet paper on the holder
11. my mother-in-law
12. doctors who heal
13. fires in the backyard
14. music
15. Demi playing the piano
16. a good book
17. friends
18. fresh flowers
19. a job I continue to love
20. breakfast dates with my husband
21. hot green tea
22. breakfasts with friends that last six hours
23. wine
24. Eggo waffles
25. reality TV shows (Project Runway, America Next Top Model, Biggest Loser)
26. pumpkin pie with whipped cream
27. my cell phone
28. martinis
29. The Clapper
30. a raked yard
31. Michael Buble CD (thanks Tracey!)
32. glazed croissants
33. family vacations
34. heated mattress cover
35. clean sheets
36. black flip flops
37. kisses
38. hugs
39. Bandwiches
40. sunshine
41. sound of children laughing
42. sharpened pencils
43. teachers who teach with passion
44. polished silver
45. neighbors
Happy Thanksgiving! I hope your cornucopia runneth over too.
1. God
2. Family
3. Sunshine
4. Alee Pal time
5. Maddi Pal time
6. Demi Pal time
7. the dog in all her insane aggravation
8. white chili
9. clean underwear
10. toilet paper on the holder
11. my mother-in-law
12. doctors who heal
13. fires in the backyard
14. music
15. Demi playing the piano
16. a good book
17. friends
18. fresh flowers
19. a job I continue to love
20. breakfast dates with my husband
21. hot green tea
22. breakfasts with friends that last six hours
23. wine
24. Eggo waffles
25. reality TV shows (Project Runway, America Next Top Model, Biggest Loser)
26. pumpkin pie with whipped cream
27. my cell phone
28. martinis
29. The Clapper
30. a raked yard
31. Michael Buble CD (thanks Tracey!)
32. glazed croissants
33. family vacations
34. heated mattress cover
35. clean sheets
36. black flip flops
37. kisses
38. hugs
39. Bandwiches
40. sunshine
41. sound of children laughing
42. sharpened pencils
43. teachers who teach with passion
44. polished silver
45. neighbors
Happy Thanksgiving! I hope your cornucopia runneth over too.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Selfish Me
Last Tuesday we got a call to bring Princess A home from college because she had mono and bronchitis. She has had an unexpected extended Thanksgiving break.
Now I must admit that I am feeling a bit mommy selfish, as I know she wishes she was still sitting in her sorority dorm room pinned down at her desk studying and laughing with the "sisters"...I love my girly being home. There is something about this family home feeling complete and, although we are always complete despite distance or absence it just feels heart warming when we are all under the same roof.
Today I think my Princess has perked back. Sure she is still sluggish but that has something to do with getting in the habit of sleeping three-fourth of the day away in the name of healing. I saw signs of life returning yesterday in her.
So if you don't mind I am going to relish in the selfish heart I have for having extra time with my first born. Because I love, enough though she was sick, her looking at me when I walked in the room asking me to sit next to her and love her.
Don't worry I already added this to my list of thanksgiving.
Now I must admit that I am feeling a bit mommy selfish, as I know she wishes she was still sitting in her sorority dorm room pinned down at her desk studying and laughing with the "sisters"...I love my girly being home. There is something about this family home feeling complete and, although we are always complete despite distance or absence it just feels heart warming when we are all under the same roof.
Today I think my Princess has perked back. Sure she is still sluggish but that has something to do with getting in the habit of sleeping three-fourth of the day away in the name of healing. I saw signs of life returning yesterday in her.
So if you don't mind I am going to relish in the selfish heart I have for having extra time with my first born. Because I love, enough though she was sick, her looking at me when I walked in the room asking me to sit next to her and love her.
Don't worry I already added this to my list of thanksgiving.
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