Over the river and through the woods...

We are headed to my in laws' place in a couple of hours.

We're having dinner at Jim's Uncle's house and then we'll spend the night at his parents' place.

I'm really lucky in that I get along with Jim's parents better than most people I know get along with their in laws. Sure they do stuff that makes me wince sometimes (give the kids WAY too much junk food, for example), but they usually learn their lesson without me having to resort to being a hag about it (getting puked on, for example).

Jim's family is really different than mine in a lot of ways. My family gathers, eats, chats a bit, and gets the hell out of dodge. His family likes to come early and stay late. My family is kind of quiet for the most part. His family is loud and raucous. My family's gatherings are strictly "dry" affairs. The wine and beer (and when we're really celebrating, bourbon) flows with abandon on his side of the family.

Every year, Christmas at my in laws' is like walking into a Norman Rockwell painting. The tree is real, but has been manicured to such perfection that is looks fake. There is a toy train (from Jim's Dad's youth) riding around a tree that would make Martha Stewart blush with envy. Little puffs of smoke trail out of the train as it rounds the tiny vintage village nestled where the presents usually sit. We've been going over there for over a decade and every year I still find something new under there.

We always have the same breakfast on Christmas morning: sausage and homemade buttermilk pancakes. It is always delicious and I always eat too many pancakes. I can't help it. They are just that good.

The tree and gifties are in the basement. The lights are dimmed just so, giving off a warm cozy feeling. After the Christmas music is put on, we all claim a spot and start doling out the loot. The fire crackles, the kids run around too excited to sit still, and we all drink his Mom's ridiculously strong coffee.

Even the way the gifts are wrapped are a work of art. It's not just the beautiful paper she wraps everything in. She adds baubles and real ribbon and berries and wreaths to everything. Sometimes I feel bad ripping into them they are so pretty.

I let the girls pick a few toys to get out of the packing to play with. I try to stash some of it because I know we will end up forgetting a piece to something if I don't. Usually we'll watch a movie, but this year we are going to bring our new Wii. Should be fun.

I always enjoy the holidays at their house. It's just so different that how I grew up. Sure we did the usual Christmas stuff at my house, but Jim's parents take it to a whole new level. Tradition is tradition over there. Nothing else will do.

Normally I'm all for bucking the status quo, but there is something so comforting about the way everything is like a made for tv movie over there.

I know how much they enjoy doing all of this especially now that they have grandkids to share it with. I hope they know how much I appreciate it.

And then my brain exploded and my arm fell off

We're going to be at the in laws' for Christmas Eve and day, so Santa graciously stopped by our house a couple days early to accommodate our busy schedule. He appreciated our predicament and happily acquiesced.

Jim went apeshit this year. He assures me that he stuck to our no credit card rule and paid all cash.

First, we got a Wii and a Wii Fit. I was jonesin' something fierce for those two gems. He got a bunch of games too, so we're pretty much not leaving the house until we are dragged out. Whoever comes to extricate me will have to come at me from the left. My right arm could punch through a wall at this point. Who gets sore from playing a video game? Me, that's who.

Second, he got me a new laptop. This is genius for many reasons including the fact that my current laptop is pretty much a zombie at this point. Add to that Audrey used it as a footstool last week and it has lovely ink splatter-like streaks across the monitor.

The girls were giddy over their gifts. Santa did a really good job this year. Honestly though, how hard is it to buy for a 7 and 4 1/2 year old? Um...one of everything and throw in some sparkle markers. Done!

We don't ever go super crazy with the girls' gifts. The grandparents' have the whole spoil the grandkids thing down pat. We try to figure out what their "big" gift will be and throw in a smattering of stuff we know they will love.

Mina is really into designing clothes right now so I found this kit with stencils and sequins and pretty paper and shit and she loved it. It even comes with teeny tiny hangers.

Audrey thinks the Care Bears are tits and I found a movie at Target for 5 bucks.

They both got kits to write their own books. Mina's is one you send back to the company once it's done and they make an actual hardcover book out of it. Audrey's is a DIY pop-up book.

I love finding stuff like that.

We've been so busy playing with our new toys that I haven't even had the time to open the box my laptop came in. That might happen at some point, but right now it's my turn to get that much closer to my carpal tunnel surgery. Wiiiiiiii!

One Christmas down

I spent this weekend with my family celebrating the first Christmas of the season.

I'm lucky because my side of the family picks a weekend well before the actual day to get together instead of expecting everyone to travel like maniacs trying to get all their visiting done at once.

I drove up to my parents' house early Saturday and we headed to NW Indiana to our annual pot luck eating extravaganza.

It was fun to see family I don't see but once (or twice, if I'm lucky) a year. Our family is so big that we have to rent a space to meet at. No one's house is big enough to hold us all. Even with some of our crew missing, it was still a tight fit.

The girls and I headed back to my parents' house afterwards and opened even more gifts. We spent the night and the next morning my Mom said that she had been sick in the night. At first she thought it might be food poisoning so we tried to compare and contrast what each of us had or didn't have because my Dad, the girls and I were all fine.

We left for home earlier than planned because I could see my poor Mom was exhausted.

We weren't 2 minutes from home when I heard Mina from the back seat, "Mom...I kind of feel like I have to puke."

Now, if you have children under the age of 12 you know that when your kid says they think they might throw up, you have about .005 seconds to get them somewhere acceptable to spew.

By the time they say they are going to be sick, it's already too late.

As soon as she blessed her lap and her booster seat with breakfast she said she felt "much much better".

I called Jim from the car to make sure he had supplies at the ready. I cracked the windows and told the girls to sit tight for the next few blocks. I have to say, Mina was a real trooper. She had to sit in her own barf for what probably felt like an eternity and didn't complain once. She'll make a fine college student, no?

I don't think it's the flu. She was hungry for lunch and dinner and has been playing sans whining or fever for a few hours now.

I'm just holding my breath for Audrey's inevitable puke-fest in the middle of the night.

I cannot have gotten off this easily, can I?

Pyromaniac

I love having a fireplace.

I would have a fire going all day every day if I could.

We got our Christmas tree today and had to trim a few hang-y branches around the bottom. We had a fire going, so Jim started throwing them in there.

He was "directing" the girls while they put the ornaments on, so I started throwing more branches in the fire.

The smell was a wonderful wintery aroma of pine and seasoned wood. The sap in the branches made the most magnificent sound and the fire burned so hot I think I got a sunburn from sitting in front of it.

It kind of freaked me out, how intense the fire got. All I could think about is how fast our tree would go up if our house caught on fire.

Because that's what I do. Enjoy something beautiful until I can come up with some tragic scenario and ruin the whole experience.

Ah...Christmas.

Just like the Girl Scouts, but drunker

For the record, Jim and I had a fantastic time at the little get together.

The bar was a hoot-just the type of place Jim has wet dreams about turning our extra room off the garage into.

When we first got there, I told the hostess that we were meeting a group of people. When she asked me who, I felt a metaphorical puddle forming at my feet. Aside from Grant (who, as I previously mentioned, I haven't seen in person in about 16 years), I didn't know anyone. And Grant hadn't arrived yet.

Sure, I've commented on their blogs and maybe seen a quick spapshot in a post or two, but I felt a growing sense of panic at the thought of tapping the wrong person on the shoulder.

"Hi, I write a blog. Am I here to meet you?"

I decided the gregarious group at the bar looked friendly enough not to laugh in my face.

"Um, hello. This is going to sound really weird, but who are you here to meet?"

She turned out to be the fabulously warm and easy-to-talk to MizBubs (who, if you don't know by now, is one sexy mama).

The drinks were holyshitstrong and by about 11, I was taking my shoes off to ensure my upright status.

It was such a cool experience to meet a bunch of people who, up until that night, were kind of like imaginary friends to me--the proverbial "girlfriend in the Niagra Falls area".

There's been so many times I've read what someone wrote and thought, "We could totally hang out and get drunk together!". And lookee loo, I got to do just that with a handful of 'em!

I'm really glad we went. I know Jim was more apprehensive about what the night would bring as he was even less familiar with those in attendance, but I know he had a good time too. I can tell he's having fun when his voice gets louder accompanied by wild arm gestures (of course, that also means he's drunk, but who's counting?).

You can read all about the evening (and see some photos) here and here.


P.S. I am taking part in some guest blogging, along with a host of others, at Grant Miller Media. Stay tuned.

Party Crasher

What am I doing tonight, you ask?

I'm getting gussied up and driving to lovely(?) River Grove to attend a gathering of a bunch of people I don't know (yet)...except for Grant but I haven't seen him for oh, about 16 years.

I'll be the overdressed redhead downing drinks, taking pictures and trying not to embarrass my husband.

Huzzah!

More goddamned xmas cheer

We had a big fancy photo shoot here a few weeks ago to try and get a shot for the our cards. The girls loved it because I did their hair and even let them wear the teensiest amount of makeup. Mina got pissed that I wouldn't let her wear my red lipstick and we almost had to scrap the whole thing. Luckily she let it go when I showed her the obnoxious dress my Mom bought her.

Here is the undedited version of the picture that went out with the cards. I picked it because the look on Audrey's face pretty much encapsulates her entire being. The shit-eating grin and twinkle of evil in her eye was what clinched it.

Merry CHRISTmas!

No taking the Christ out of Christmas here. No siree.

I can't wait to celebrate the birth of our Lord and Saviour by opening presents, chowing down and getting deee-runk. Wahoo!

An invitation was extended to The Sweet Baby Jesus to partake with us, but He's a bit busy around this time. His Mother's always harping that he never visits, so He takes time out (on His damn birthday of all days) to go over to her house.
He gets to endure hours of "You look so skinny! Aren't you eating?" and "You never call!" and "When are you going to go back and get your degree? You coulda' been a doctor, but NOOOOOO. You had to give it all away to help all those people who don't even like you."

He promised he'd show up for a spell on New Year's Eve. I'm sure He'll need a stiff one after dealing with The Blessed Virgin from Hell.

I just hope he doesn't pull another party foul like last year. Seems Jesus turned a little bit too much water into wine, and started yelling at everyone. He's a mean drunk, if you didn't know.

"Crucify me, motherfuckers! I can totally come back from the dead! DUUUUUDE, I invented Christmas! DO IT, or I will smite you!"

It was really embarrassing. More embarrassing that realizing that he wasn't wearing anything under the robe.

Merry Happy!

Love in Christ and Bacon,
Chaylene

The Elves are Watching

Mina wants two things for Christmas:

THIS and THIS.

We spent a few minutes this morning looking them up online.

I told her that she could ask Santa, but I wasn't sure if he would bring both of them (why does she have to have such expensive taste?).

I'm pretty sure I'll get her the talking parrot even though the squawking will drive me to drink. The Fuzz Luv thing may or may not happen. I've seen them priced anywhere from 39.99 to 99.99. Do I really want to spend that much on something else that makes noise?

It could be worse. Last year, both girls begged for THIS.

Lucky for me, they've since set their sites lower.

Part of me knows that I could bring home a bunch of refrigerator boxes and they'd be happy as pie.

After explaining to Mina that Santa doesn't always bring everything we ask for, she pulled me aside to share some inside information:

"Mama, I need to tell you something."

"What's that?"

"Mama, the elves watch us to find out if we are good or bad, and they tell Santa. I've been good, so they looked on your computer to see what I want and they went back to the workshop to make me those toys."

Creepy, right?

I'm picturing a hoard of little elves carrying out some sort of covert focus group. They sneak into the house while we're sleeping, carrying clipboards and 'thinking outside the box'.

The only way she can rebel is to become a vegetarian

Mina is learning Christmas songs at school. Real, honest-to-goodness CHRISTmas songs.

I don't get it. We have to call the Halloween party a "Fall Party", but they can send my kid home singing about round yon virgins?

Mina's been singing Silent Night a lot. Like A LOT a lot. They've got her doing sign language with it too. It's cute and all, but it's also kind of creepy to hear her singing about the babyjesus.

All this sign language has piqued her interest in deaf people. "Are they different?" she asked me. I told her that they were just people, like us, but they can't hear. And just as I was about to pat myself on the back for such a great and succint answer, she throws this at me: "Can you hear a deaf person cry?"

Maybe it was the PMS last week, but that got me a little misty.

So, it's Silent Night, Holy Night EVERY night and it's getting a little old. But, as most things that are getting old around here do, it's getting funny.

"Holy Shit!" has now been replaced with "Holy Infant!". The same can be said of the less uttered "Holy Cow!".

Mina doesn't like this at all.

She also didn't like the following conversation that took place a few days ago.

Mina (singing): ...holy infant, so tender and mild...

Jim: You know what I like tender and mild? A steak.

Mina: NO DADDY! HOLY INFANT!

Me: Mmmmmm...tender infant....

Mina: STOP IT!



I hope that when Mina grows up, she gets a really well paying job with fantastic benefits to help pay for the inevitable therapy in her future.