Archive for November, 2007

I have a lot of shopping to do today, both online and (gulp) out with the masses. My attempt to hit two stores in the very brief time I have no kids hanging on me may be the death of me today. So my brain is already trying to find a parking space, and I went all fluffy today.

What The Holidays Mean to You

For you, the holidays are about celebration. You enjoy all the fun and fellowship that the holidays bring. You celebrate the holidays in a minimalist style. You are likely to only give one great present and decorate your house with a few special items. During the holidays, you like to feel cozy and comfortable. You’re happy to stay inside with a roaring fire and a warm drink. You think the holidays should be nostalgic and sweet. The holidays bring out your inner child. Your best holiday memories are warm and intimate. You remember special moments more than gifts or parties.

What Do the Holidays Mean to You?

Yup, this one is dead on. Couldn’t have written it better myself.

You Were Nice This Year

You Were 25% Naughty, 75% Nice Okay, so you weren’t *entirely* nice this year But Santa doesn’t expect a modern girl to be perfect You were good enough – and you’ll be rewarded for it

Were You a Naughty Girl or Nice Girl this Year?

Boy, set this one next to my headshot, and I’m Church Lady. Sigh…

Your Holiday Stress Level is Moderate

The holidays sometimes stress you out, but mostly because they wear you down. Take it easy! You can have a fun holiday without running yourself ragged.

What’s Your Holiday Stress Level?

Ok, my daily stress level could be described as moderate, so I’m ahead of the game here. Off to the stores! whimper…

I know I’m not alone in feeling overwhelmed. It’s good to know, actually. Doesn’t help get things done, but at least I have company.

My Christmas shopping has barely begun. I have no Christmas letter written, nor a picture of the boys taken for a card. I’m doing a cookie exchange next week and I haven’t decided what to make (ok, not entirely true. I know what I want to make, it’s just a matter of if I have enough time to make something with that many steps). We have outdoor decorations out, but that’s only because Tom sacrificed his Sunday to get everything out before the weather turned this week (we learned last year about outdoor lights with all the blizzards: get them up early, keep it simple, stay off the roof, and figure they might be up until April). The rest of our holiday decorations might get up this weekend. Actually, they have to get up this weekend: my mom needlepointed a beautiful Advent calendar for us and since Saturday is Day One, I need to hang it up. I’ve been fighting some sort of wimpy virus for a couple of weeks now. It’s like the stupid thing can’t decide whether or not to make me sick or not. C’mon, you wimp. Get me knock down, drag out sick so I can get well already. I don’t want to be on the edge of this cold all winter, my nose is already raw.

Yet, somehow, I talked myself off the ledge this morning. It’s so easy for me to get all worked up and stressed; I do it very well. I could have very easily hit panic mode today and been a wreck trying to get it all done. But as I drove the boys to school this morning, listening to TonicSolFa* on my iPod (God bless my iPod on carpool days…), I had several thoughts.

Colorado has one of the highest foreclosure rates in the country, if not the highest. I’m seeing
more and more empty houses in our neighborhood. If you see a house that is obviously empty and there is no For Sale sign out front, it’s likely a foreclosure home. It’s so sad. These are not McMansions, these are homes similar to mine. I’m so grateful and so blessed to have a roof over our heads.

My God, look at those mountains! How beautiful. I’m so grateful and blessed to live in such beauty.

I’m playing in a recital on December 16th. This isn’t a “I’m a part of a larger group” recital, I’m actually doing a solo. I rehearsed with my pianist last night (he’s actually the choir director at our church) and it went great. I was doing fine until I saw his diploma from the Eastman School of Music (um, for those of you who don’t know, yeah, this is one of the best music schools in the country…no pressure here). I am so grateful and blessed to have been able to hold my own with him, and to make music again. I’ve missed it.

He drives me batsnot, but my husband is such a good man. I am so grateful and blessed to have him by my side…and incredulous that he doesn’t run screaming into the night when I fall off the ledge into freak-out mode.

My sons…you know, when I talk to people who don’t really know about the boys’ issues, I see myself from their point of view and I am amazed at my own strength. It’s happened to me twice in the last week. Two friends, who didn’t know the details of the boys’ therapies, asked me about them and I told them. And I saw, from outside myself, how much extra they need and how strong I am to provide it all. It’s hard for me to acknowledge this; I usually have a pity party for one with whine/wine instead. I am so grateful and blessed that I have my sons because they are making me a stronger and more empathetic person.

And finally, I am so grateful and blessed to have all this holiday craziness because it means I have the means to participate in all this holiday craziness. When it all comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter if I get a Christmas card out, it doesn’t matter if I make the fancy schmancy Christmas cookies, it doesn’t matter if half the Christmas decorations don’t make it out of storage. All that matters is that my family is healthy and loved. The rest is just frosting.

And I am grateful and blessed to have figured that out this morning.
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*TonicSolFa is a male a cappella (no accompaniment) quartet (four singers). And they are fantastic. I have their two holiday CDs and they are the perfect soundtrack to driving carpool.

When I was about 7 or so, I was diagnosed with idiopathic thrombocytopenia. Those are big, fancy shmancy words for “you have dangerously low platelet levels and we have absofreakinglutely no idea why.” All I knew at the time was that I couldn’t run around (because if I got hurt and started to bleed, it’d be bad), I had to stay home from school for several weeks (people, this was pre-cable, pre-internet, pre-video games…you know, the dark ages), and had to get blood drawn two or three times a week. These weren’t the little prick your finger and get a bandaid blood draws, these were the real deal, from the arm, make a fist please blood draws. My memory is a bit fuzzy on this, but I seem to recall this went on for a looong time. I distinctly remember one particular blood draw (my poor mom is reading this and nodding, ’cause this was something you ain’t likely to forget). The poor nurse tried forever to get something, anything, out of my right arm. Dry as a bone. Nada. Like trying to draw blood from a puppet. She tried the left arm and…wheeeeee! I fountained across the room, spraying the nurse, my mom, me, and anything in reach. Who knew I stored all my blood in my left arm?

So why I do bring this up on a beautiful Colorado afternoon? Because I relived this experience this morning. I had to get a blood draw to check my thyroid levels (oops, only 3 weeks late). Right arm…nothing. Bless her, the tech was only doing her job, but damn it lady, if you don’t get a drop, don’t move the effin’ needle around looking for some! Apparently I have squirmy veins. Left arm (this time with a wee bitty needle)…wheeee!!!! Filled that tube in record time.

And people wonder why I don’t donate blood…

Hoooo-eeeee! Tom is one lucky man, I tell you what. He gets to take me, in all my sexy glory, to bed every night. What man wouldn’t want this:

flannel pjs
bite guard
chapsticked lips
Breathe Right strip on my nose
chest slathered in Vicks VapoRub
feet slathered in Vicks VapoRub, encased in heavy socks (remedy for bad coughing)

How I haven’t ended up as a Crazy Cat Lady is beyond me…well, other than that extreme cat allergy. I guess I’m the lucky one here.

Well, I could do a Thursday Thirteen about everything I’m thankful for this year, but I’m not going to. I have a parade to watch (gotta see if Santa is going to lose his pants this year; I’ve checked every year for the last thirty or so), Butter Braid to eat, little boys to snuggle, and a dinner to prepare. Well, there’s not that much prep, I picked up our turkey yesterday, seasoned and smoked and just needing to be reheated. Life’s good.

But I will say that I am extremely thankful for my family, my friends, our good health, indoor plumbing, central heat and a/c, the heated seats in my minivan, and the internets that has brought me so many of my friends. Whether you celebrate Thanksgiving today or not, have a great day, with those you hold near and dear…and a slice of pecan pie at the end.

It’s not often that I stick my foot in my mouth, but when I do, I apparently go for the gag reflex. Yesterday I think I may have actually stuck it far enough to hit my colon.

Beautiful dress, yes? I love this dress. It was featured in a Coldwater Creek email ad I got yesterday. A few days ago some friends and I were chatting about how none of us have ever been seen in a dress. That conversation went through my head as this disaster unfolded. In my defense, I had a migraine yesterday, so I plead ill. This email conversation (that I thought I was sending to my friends)actually took place, nothing has been changed, including my idiocy.

Me: See this dress? Imagine me in this dress for the XMAS party. I would wear this, but I’m not dropping $95 on a dress, I don’t have the body for this beautiful dress and I have more brains than to wear a sleeve dress in December. so just pretend I have this dress for te party

Reply: Dear Ms. XYZ:

Thank you for contacting Coldwater Creek. It is our privilege to have the opportunity to respond to your e-mail.

We appreciate hearing from you today, Ms. XYZ. Our Customers Comments will always be of Primary Importance to us. The dresses do not work for everyone and that is why we offer a variety.

There are areas that have warm weather during the Holidays. I, personally could not wear one of them either, but we do sell many to the ones that can.

Please be assured that we will forward your e-mail to the appropriate department to be reviewed.

If we may be of future assistance, please do not hesitate to contact us by responding to this e-mail, call our toll-free number at (800) 510-2808 or visit us though the Instant Help feature on our website. We are always happy to help you!

Sincerely,
Lilly B.

Coldwater Creek Customer Service

Me (after dying a thousand deaths after I realized what I had done): Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to send a reply, I was sending an amusing email to friends. I have a wicked headache and instead of a forwared message I hit reply. I am so sorry. I love Coldwater Creek clothes. I think I need more ibuprofin… ay yi yi…

I’m sure Lilly is still laughing at me.

Ya just never know what you’ll find when my mind spits out the little random thoughts that flit in and out all day long.

1.My recent rant post about toys made in China got me some good ideas (J will probably get something from Playmobil). But I found this site the other day and had to share. Go here. Share your ideas. I have absolutely NO connection with this site other than wanting the list to get larger so I have to do less legwork. I’m lazy that way.

2.Want to get me a really good Christmas gift? I want to take all, and I mean all, of my recordings to this place and have them digitally saved. I have literally hundreds of hours of audio and video tape of band concerts, college recitals, our wedding video, that sort of thing. All of it is on tape and if I lost any of it my heart would crack into a thousand pieces and come pouring out my tear ducts (ick, that was a pretty bad analogy). I want to save all these memories on a gold archival DVD that I can put into my safe deposit box, and also have CDs to have at home. Ain’t gonna be cheap.

3. I have spent so much time in the car lately that I have caught up on my podcasts and had to go searching for more. Lots of good stuff out there from NPR. But it’s sad, the amount of time I have spent on my ever-widening rear, driving from one thing to the next. The only thing sadder is watching me sob as I fill my minivan with the juice of long-dead reptiles.

4. Here in Colorado ’tis winter’s eve. Last year’s winter was long, cold, and miserable. Let’s hope we don’t get four blizzards in four weeks again this year. And why, you may ask? Well, besides the obvious (snow days, roads that don’t get plowed because out here they believe in the Divine Intervention Method of Snow Removal), I hatehatehate being cold. And I’m always cold. I can be wearing a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, jeans, socks, and slippers/shoes and I’ll still be shivering. The only time I am completely warm and content is when I am in the aforementioned minivan, with the heat cranked and the seat warmer on high. I have a terminal and debilitating case of PPP: Perpetual Penguin Posterior; my butt is always cold. Between the butt warmers in the van and the new electric blanket I just got for our bed (oohhhh, me loooooves that electric blanket. No more shivering as I fall asleep!), I should make it through the winter. I hope.

5. I could set my watch by it: every morning at 6:40 the construction dudes working on the school behind our house start banging and clanging. Not 6:45, not 6:30, but 6:40 on the dot. Every.Single.Morning. I have to wonder if that’s how they warm up the equipment, or if they just get their jollies that early in day by waking us all up. Poopheads…as the boys would say.

6. My inlaws are coming on Sunday for a full week. We’re supposed to get snow next week, significant enough that it was mentioned on the news the other night. Please oh please, let’s not get snowed in. If we wanted to all sit on top of each other with nowhere to go and nothing to do we would have gone to Iowa to see them!

7. Coffee is the nectar of life and anyone who says differently is evil.

8. I watched a DVD last night about the Disney Vacation Club. Interesting, and certainly something to consider. We’re big Disney fans around here (J is watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse right now so I can wake up–see #7–).

9. Finally, a quote that I’ve had hanging above my desk: A year from now you may wish you had started today. I like that, keeps me moving.

More coffee…must have more coffee now. Have a great weekend!

There’s a hidden club out there. You may not know it exists, but it’s there. The members are usually exhausted, sitting in a corner, glass of red wine in hand, mumbling incoherently about that elusive stink in the house and whereohwhere is it for the love of all things holy.

We are the Sisterhood of Sons. Moms with only boys. I didn’t recognize this quiet group until I was a member for a few years.

We see each other out and about, with smiles and gritted teeth, with knowing glances and sighs. We survived being target practice during diaper changes (when the cold air hits that little member, it’s like the fountain show at the Bellagio). We grudgingly accept that the only pink on our sons is the glow on their cheeks when they come in from the cold. We know that there are no Polly Pockets in the bedrooms, and the only dolls in the house are usually the ones we grew up with, and are in storage in the basement. We trip over the Hot Wheels racetrack set up on the stairs, the one Dad put together with the boys because it reminded him of doing that with his own brother. We know more about Star Wars than we thought possible, and will actually argue with our sons and their friends about it, because we were around when the movies originally came out, don’t screw with me, I know what I’m talking about, Han shot first.

We don’t play tea party, but we know the words to “Buffalo Bob Only Ate Baked Beans.” It’s a fart song. I know the words to too many fart songs. We say “fart,” “poop,” and “pen!$” more than we ever imagined, and are comfortable doing so. In fact, pen!$ talk is constant. That little dangly bit is the source of endless entertainment, conversation, and questions of why we don’t have one.

Women in the Sisterhood of Sons are caught between two worlds. We have to raise creatures very very different from ourselves. We have our own feminity to protect and enhance, yet we often must sacrifice that very feminity for our sons. This is known as the hair cut & color vs. Cub Scout outing dilemma.

It’s difficult to describe the “look” that the women in this exclusive club have. I don’t see it in women who have both boys and girls, and it’s certainly not there in women who have only girls. It’s a look of mental toughness, of struggling to raise strong men who still have a gentle side, of trying not to go completely off the deep end after the fifteenth round of “who can burp the loudest.” During dinner. With your mother in law. I think this look, often appearing around the eyes, may only be recognizable to other women in the Sisterhood.

And here’s the thing. We wear this “look” as a badge of pride, of courage, of honor. Having only sons has changed me, has sent me down a path I never imagined, never even knew existed. Before my second son was born, I was sad for women who didn’t have a daughter. I imagined they felt empty, that something was missing, and how sad they must have been to not raise a girl. And I felt that way from the time of my “hey, it’s another boy!” ultrasound until the minute J was born. At that very moment of his birth I was a new member of the Sisterhood, and those empty feelings disappeared like morning fog.

I am a different woman because of my membership in the Sisterhood of Sons. It’s not a club I ever anticipated joining, but I can’t imagine my life without it. I am stronger, I am happier, and I am more in love with my sons every day. I love my Sisters, feel their pain and loneliness in being the only female in the house, and live for sharing war stories with them.

If you’re in the Sisterhood, you’ve read this and nodded the whole way through. Hi, Sister. I bet you stepped on a Matchbox car in the last week, if not this morning, and have had at least one pen!$ conversation in the last 48 hours. Now, if you will all excuse me, I have a bottle of red wine to stick in the fridge, and for the love of all things holy, whereohwhere is that stink coming from?

Anyone else changing health insurance plans this year? The joy of having Tom work remotely for his company is that I get to sit in on the insurance conference calls. Someone shoot me. It’s the mental equivalent of a rusty rod up your butt. The idiot from the insurance company has the tact of a 2 year old. I finally had to leave the room or I was going to find a way to reach through the phone lines, rip out his larynx, and feed it back to him. I doubt insurance would cover that, but we’re far enough into the year that he’s probably hit his deductible and it might be covered 80%, but only if the doctor he went to was in-network. I’m sure he checked the doctor’s network status this morning, right after his morning constitutional and before his coffee. It’s no wonder families go bankrupt because of medical bills; health insurance is a nightmare.

I’m done. Donedonedone. I’ve had it with the toy recalls. This newest one, the Aqua Dots, did me in. A played with these at a birthday party and has been driving me batsnot asking for them. I never got them because I wasn’t comfortable with the teeny tiny beeds, but the recall isn’t because of the size. It’s because, if ingested, the body metabolizes them into a dangerous drug. Hello? What kind of evil, heartless, money grubbing moron approves using that kind of chemical on a children’s toy, on anything?

We’re just weeks out from the various gift-giving holidays. I have several ideas for my sons, and the niece and nephew I’m buying for, but it’s not enough. If I can’t find what I’m looking for, or if it’s sold out, then I’m up a creek. So I’m asking for help from the internets: send me your best gift ideas for kids 4-8, boy or girl. Here are the requirements:

1. Cannot be made in China
2. Does not have to be a toy (can be things like fuzzy Crocs, which will be under the tree for the boys. Shhh…
3. I’d love to see something different and interesting (not something I could find at every single big-box store)
4. Please don’t break the bank

I’m willing to buy online, I’m willing to get stuff from other countries (J’s favorite music toy at our music class is a Clatterpillar, made in Israel), I’m open to ideas. Please, pass this request on to others, post a notice on your blog, ask your friends and families, and I’ll post the ideas by Thanksgiving (Novemeber 22). I’m sure I’m not the only parent who is ticked off and wondering what I’m going to do for gifts this year. Please help, and I’ll share all the ideas sent in. Thanks.