A Special Day

You would have been 90 today. It is only appropriate that we welcome Winks tonight on your birthday. We will raise a glass (or two) for you tonight, as will the collective family across the world. You are so missed, so treasured.

Happy birthday, Gramma.

This Is What Old Looks Like

Pitiful, isn't it?

Happy 40th Birthday, Justin!

And belated happy birthday to Tami. Here they are...many moons ago...circa 1994-ish.
My, you have such pretty glasses Justin.
------------------------------------------------------------
Edited to add (and because, geez...it is his birthday) they have both aged very well...and he IS a handsome devil besides.
Some desert, somewhere out west.
Furry face.
Gussied up.
Lookin' fine!

February Cliff Notes

It's actually Cliff's Notes. Cliff (possessive)'s Notes. I know! Who knew?

February has been something of a blur. Busy and cold. Jack's basketball season is over, but it ended on a high note. His team didn't exactly have a winning record, but the blessing of a nine year old's memory is that he only remembers the games they won and how many points he scored this season. He had a great time, learned a bunch and is excited to play again.

His last game found his team significantly ahead of their opponents, giving the coaches the opportunity to pull rabbits out of hats and put the ball in every kid's hands. In particular, little James, who spent most of the season skipping from one end of the court to the other and generally avoiding the ball at all costs, got a chance to make his dad proud. A play designed by the coaches pitted three of the tallest kids against the poor sprite guarding James, letting him sneak around them to shoot at the basket. He got several shots at the basket and launched the ball...to nowhere. He somehow managed to draw a foul or two and after three breathless attempts far ahead of the foul line (the ref was in cahoots, too), finally scored a point. The "plan" wasn't as covert as the boys thought, and when the ball slipped through the hoop, the crowd erupted, his father cheered at the top of his lungs and his mother wiped away tears of pride. It really was magical...I cried and cheered like a freak, too (shut up). It took the efforts of the coaches and the willingness of Jack's team to make it happen, but watching those boys work together to make it possible for James to know what it feels like to score a game point was so inspiring and so moving. It was like a scene out of a well scripted movie. We couldn't have been prouder of our boys and more grateful to the coaches for showing them what it means to be team players. It didn't matter that they lost many (ok, most) of their games...they won and won BIG in the end. But now it's over. And I am sad about it (really). But having my Tuesdays and Saturdays back isn't such a bad thing.

We spent a couple more days with our friends skiing this month (Hi Lisa. You win. You're welcome). Turns out Maggie is more of a lounge lizard than a ski bunny, but it works for her. She has an amazing ability to entertain herself and makes the most of a little hill in front of the lodge to body sled and play in the snow. As much as I'd like to force her to ski, it would totally backfire and she'd probably break an arm or leg to get back at me. Best to let her set the pace (trust me).
The other two have taken to the slopes like...like...well crap...I don't have anything (fish to water, flies to shit??). But whatever...they're doing so well and loving every minute they get to ski with their friends (who can ski circles around them, but no matter). They've taken several more lessons (I guess they're up to about four or five hours of semi-private lessons) and are now riding the ski lift without the help of an adult (who I assumed would throw themselves off the seat after my babies if there was an unfortunate accident) and making their way down the mountain in one piece (with the beginnings of a little style...if I may say so myself). It has been a real joy to watch them and we're excited about the possibility of joining the ski club next year to give them ample opportunity to become proficient skiers (and hopefully we can get Maggie out of the lodge).

The girls have started dance at Nazareth again and, as my good friend Denise says, I don't think we're going to be dancing in the Nutcracker Ballet this year. Libby is earnest and tries hard, but she's athletic and more suited to plowing down little girls on a soccer field (or rugby field) than pirouetting across the stage. But at least she'll know the dance moves. Maggie is much more interested in Lauren, her cousin, who dances with them and who's feet also do not touch the ground. The two of them (Lauren and Maggie) are somewhere out in fantasy land and routinely have to be brought back to earth to shake their money makers inappropriately and ignore everything else their sweet, unpaid college instructors try to teach them. It's going to be a really beautiful recital (snort), but not to worry...I'm gonna have the biggest bouquets of flowers this year! Oh yeah, bitches...now I know why they have those damn recitals.

Well, geez, I guess that's it for February. On to March.

In eleven more sleeps Winky will be here!! And Brighid will be here!! But, really, Winky will be here!! Can you stand it? She is flying in from London and will spend at least 3 days with us (we're pulling out all the stops and if need be, will resort to crying to the US Airways ticketing supervisors to see if we can't get a couple of more days in). At the very least we will have a great weekend together. Brighid arrives in the afternoon and Winky will be here late evening next Thursday. I already have my menus planned (a shocker, I know) and will bribe the kids to make me look good ("Yes, Mummy, I would like to go to my room to read poetry for a bit and then, if it's alright with you, I'd like to clean the bathrooms"). I am so excited to see them both...it has been about 24 years since I saw Winky (siss, man) and about 18 months since I saw Brighid (ag, shame). Poor Steve. We will (I promise) blog while they are here and will probably throw in a couple of nanner-nanner-nanner-see-how-much-fun-we're-having for good measure. 'Cuz that's how I roll.

Work has been a little hectic for both Steve and I. He is feeling the icy grip of a relentlessly cold winter and I am feeling the cold, dead fingers of a miserable economy (I never said I wasn't a drama queen). But, he can hunt and I can gather, so all will be fine.

On a personal note, I have developed the complexion of an eighty two year with mild acne. I'm really quite fetching. WTF? I have a drawer full of potions and swear off wine every night (every.single.night.), and yet I still seem to be aging at an alarming rate. Is it just me?

Okay, that's it for now. Facebook has been a bit of a time suck (alas my poor blog), but I've missed you. I miss your comments (hint, hint) and will try to get back in the habit of writing more regularly. Pinky swear.

PS. Awww...isn't this so cute? This wasn't staged...he just needed a cuddle.

Are you missing me?

I'm on Facebook. Come and be my friend!

No Facebook? I'll be posting this weekend!

Shoop, Shoop, Down They Go

We had the opportunity to take the kids skiing on Monday, and WOW...they've been bitten by the skiing bug (which I think is going to send me from the poor house to the flat broke house!). Friends of ours belong to a private ski club, so it was the perfect combination of individual attention from ski instructors and a pretty small crowd that gave the kids a chance to really learn. They had no idea what to expect, and all came away with a hint of some serious ski skills (with MUCH to learn, but a GREAT start!). Here some fun pictures from Monday.
Here they are, waiting for their instructors. At this point they were impatient, sweaty (the lodge is HOT) and a little nervous. But aren't they the picture of ski-bunny-ness?
Maggie came very close to not skiing. She was so hot, and quickly melted down about everything ("my neck hurts, my legs are itchy, why are these boots so tight?"). She was the most nervous, but ended up doing very well...skiing alongside her instructor by the end of the day.
It shouldn't surprise you that Libby never lost focus, didn't complain once and could not wait to get up on those skis. Every morning since Monday, she's asked me when we're going skiing again (next weekend). Even after two solid hours of instruction, with only a short break for hot chocolate, she wanted to keep skiing.
We met the family we went with through Jack...their son is one of his closest friends. And he (the friend) has only been skiing a year, but is pretty good (naturally). So Jack was very uptight about having to stay on the bunny hill, and "learn"...and being embarrassed in front of his friend. I don't think he had realistic expectations of how hard it is to learn. Anyway, he also did great...was learning to turn by the end of the day, and is also very anxious to get back on the slopes (and yes, he had a hair cut yesterday...he looks like a rock star and made me spend $12 on Paul Mitchell shaping balm. I took a picture of him this morning...will post it tomorrow...I think he's gonna be a lady killer).
The future Suzy Chapstick and Peekaboo Street (skiers have goofy names).
Jack with his instructor, Joe.
Steve and I had front row seats to the all the activities and literally beamed from ear to ear with pride for the entire day. However, we are old, slightly plump and do not wish to ever be on skis. So we drank beer and took pictures...even of ourselves. I get kudos for posting such an extreme closeup of myself, because...er, wow...where did all those wrinkles come from?

The Animal Odd Couple

I just love this story. Sniff, sniff. In other news, I'm on a new project, so time is limited and I'm feeling a little frazzled, but new posts this week (I promise!). In the meantime, enjoy!

Job at the FBI

I have 3 Marshall's gift certificates to spend...no time to type. So, while you're waiting for a real update, enjoy my favorite joke.

The FBI had an opening for an assassin.

After all the background checks, interviews

And testing were done, there were 3 finalists;

Two men and a woman.

For the final test, the FBI agents took one of
The men to a large metal door and handed Him a gun.

'We must know that you will follow your Instructions no matter what the circumstances.

Inside the room you will find your wife sitting In a chair . . . Kill her!!'

The man said, 'You can't be serious. I could Never shoot my wife.'

The agent said, 'Then you're not the right man For this job. Take your wife and go home.'

The second man was given the same instructions. He took the gun and went into the room. All was Quiet for a bout 5 minutes.

The man came out with tears in his eyes, 'I tried, But I can't kill my wife.' The agent said, 'You don't Have what it takes. Take your wife and go home.'

Finally, it was the woman's turn. She was given the Same instructions, to kill her husband. She took the Gun and went into the room. Shots were heard, one After another. They heard screaming, crashing, Banging on the walls. After a few minutes, all was Quiet. The door opened slowly and there stood the Woman, wiping the sweat from her brow.

'This gun is loaded with blanks' she said. 'I had to Beat him to death with the chair.'

MORAL:

Women are crazy. Don't mess with them

Someone please send the boy a cookie...

An email from Justin today (he asked for my new address to send Katy's hand-me-downs...it's like Christmas!):

Big box, including some nice shoes, some crappy but good shoes, pair of new winter boots and the usual Katy broken in stuff.

Some good for working with dad under the Chevy, but most pretty decent stuff.

I accept cash, cash and cash, or you could send me my freaking cookies you procrastinator.

Holy shit!

God created the earth in 7 freaking days.

What kind of damn cookies take months to make?

Oh, and I want some lobster tails.

Nothing too ostentatious though.

Don’t want to come across as uppity.

Thank you for the gifts Martine.

You and mom did not follow the rules, but as I was one of the benefactors of your reckless rule breaking, thank you.

Did you know my birthday is next month?

40 years old.

That’s a big one.

Needs to be celebrated just right, with huge and very expensive gifts.

Like a box of freaking damn ever loving cookies!

I will accept cash, liquor and freaking cookies.

Chivas Regal is a nice, gentle hint.

55 gallon drum should work just fine.

You do know how to bake right?

This whole cookie thing is going to put me in therapy you know.

Oh, I also like meat.

The basics. Brisket, ham, turkey, dolphin tongue…the usual.

Summer sausage with those fancy little cheeses. Now that’s the way to a mans heart right there!

Or you can send him freaking COOKIES!!!!!

I like guns!

And my truck.

Oh shit.

I think I might be ADD.

Did I mention cookies?

Have I told you about my gun?

Its big you know.

I oil it every night, and sometimes in the morning too.



I will send the package out in the morning munchkin.



Lots of love

Your cookie starved, meat craving gun rubbing brother.

This Might Kill Me

Oh my hell. I'm so hungry. Day 1.75 of my diet and I'm starving.

And before you tell me I need to fuel the machine, that I need to eat to lose, I am eating! Real food. Real healthy food. I'm just not gorging.

And my belly. It likes to be gorged. With cheese. And maybe a package of rice.

In a Nutshell

Kids went back to school yesterday...kicking and screaming all the way. Got a call from the school nurse at 1pm, Maggie has a "bad stomachache"...the child practically skipped out of there!

Stepped on the scale yesterday...day 1. Ten pounds by June 1st...totally attainable, but perhaps impossible (I could lose, gain, lose and gain the same 10lbs in 5 months, fer crissake).

Job is changing again. Still waiting for my new assignment...learning something new is stressful, but at least I have a job, right? Fingers crossed.

My neighbor gave me a cool calendar this morning...I love transferring all my info to a new calendar with a new pen and super neat handwriting. Does that make me a dork?

More later this week...

Thirty One

That's how many pictures I took over the holidays. Thirty one! I usually take that many in a single sitting!

How pitiful.

Slim picture pickings aside, we've had a great Christmas. Santa was very good to us (even if he didn't think the knitting kits all the way through...who did he think was actually going to teach TWO six year olds to knit?). The kids were spoiled (oh my!), my liver got pickled and my belly expanded in direct proportion to the latter two.

It's just disgusting.

I will be a strict diet and exercise regimen come Monday. I know I've previously threatened to take before and after pictures, but I think I'm really going to do it this time.

Anyway, back to the cherubs (cough, cough). Here's Libby at the Gingerbread Town at school. Each child in her class was positioned behind his or her masterpiece while the rest of the school traipsed by in single file. She was ever so proud.
Maggie's class made gingerbread people which were displayed in the hall outside her class. We took the assignment very seriously and her candy laden person needed extra reinforcements to stay up on the wall.
Jack's teacher is exceptionally patient and created a holiday party the kids won't soon forget. She organized games for the group, one of which was a relay race opening Hershey Kisses with mittens on. Jack has some how earned the nickname "Soup" at school, and it was so much fun watching him scramble to open candies while all the boys chanted "Soup, Soup, Soup". Here he is on Christmas morning (a picture I had to crop as he was in his underwear for most of the day...can you imagine what he'd do to me if I posted a picture of him in his underwear!?).
The folks down south (Dallas-ites) also had a great Christmas Day together. They claim to have missed us, but judging from the pictures I've seen our absence went entirely unnoticed. Brighid sent some gorgeous pictures of the 'rents. This one is of Dad, soaking it all in and looking ever so handsome.
This is a great picture of Mom and her fifth grandchild (Wilson-The-Dog). She has weathered a rough couple of years, but you'd never know it by how beautiful she looks.
Speaking of Wilson, here is a disgusting public display of affection between him and his new boyfriend,Justin. Fellas! Get a room!
And that's it from me! I hope you all have a safe and happy New Year's Eve, and that the best things in life come to you in 2009!

Maybe Next Year

My neighbor arrived shortly before noon, with a bottle of Merlot. It was gone by 12:26pm...thus cancelling the Santa retrospective and house cleaning (thank God).

Such a shame, too. Maybe next year.

I have been so richly blessed. I have an amazing family, amazing kids and husband, and a great network of friends who truly care about me and mine.

What more could I ask for?

So, for you all, for Christmas and for 2009, I hope for the same. To feel loved, to feel blessed and to life your best life.
Merry Christmas!

Edited to add Wilson, who was to be included in the Santa retrospective.He's asking Santa for a bigger ding-a-ling. Stay tuned.

Postage Budget

This will not be my last post before Christmas....didn't haul the crew to get pictures taken with Santa yesterday NOT to post a Santa retrospective...but had a small revelation this morning.

Wow!

I've got a lot of nerve.

A big set.

Complaining bitterly about the lack of Christmas cards when sitting not two feet from me is a giant envelope filled with my overseas cards. They are addressed and licked shut. And sitting in a giant envelope. That's because I bought several books of stamps to send them in the first week of December, but forgot to weigh the cards before calculating how many stamps each would need. Before I left the post office I weighed one and after pushing my eyeballs back in their sockets ($.95 for EACH...I had over 20), I told myself I'd bring them back to be metered, thus saving the stamps (and extra postage) for the eighty plus cards I was sending State side.

Yes, a very well thought out plan...with very poor execution.

So, without further ado, to my friends and family in South Africa, New Zealand, Canada and Holland....my 2008 Christmas card.

The front:

The back:

Merry Christmas and may the blessings of 2009 be bountiful!

1, 2, 3

Christmas is now literally around the corner. How did that happen? I have so much on my mind and have completely neglected my obsessive list making. Very unlike me. So, 3 quick lists to catch up.

Things I have lost track of are as follows:

1. What I have to bring for the kids "holiday" parties (they are not "Christmas" parties anymore). They each have a separate party at a separate time (which is so much easier and yet impossible), and I have volunteered to bring something to each (cookies, Hershey kisses, or something like that), but did not write anything down. I think I'll have to buy a few different things and just show up with a full Wegman's bag, open it up at each party and just say "take what you need".

2. Who I have left to buy for. All out of town gifts are on their way, but I still have 2 charities to donate to. I have 2 stocking stuffers left to buy and a couple of gifts. Which seems like, hey, I do know who I have to buy for, but the problem is it changes from moment to moment when I remember what I've ordered, where I've hidden boxes, etc. Which brings me to number 3.

3. Where I've stashed the goods. I have a couple of things hidden in my closet, under my bed, and in the basement. The closet and the bed are very manageable. The basement, not so much. There are things hidden in totes, bags and boxes that look remarkably like the ones we packed when we moved. I can see it now, rushing to the basement on Christmas morning to retrieve forgotten somethings or anothers. Libby is already very stressed out that I have not bought any more wrapping paper (she has no idea that I wrapped presents until my knees when numb on Monday). She keeps saying "Mommy, you're gonna need to buy A LOT of wrapping paper to wrap all the presents. Right? All the presents? Right?". She would be blown away if she knew how much was hidden in place sight!

Things that are irritating me:

1. Christmas cards. Don't people send them anymore? I love opening my mailbox and seeing a big pile of cards. Love it. But not this year. Very disappointing. Oooh...which reminds me. Tami, I went to the post office this morning to mail the other Webkinz that arrived yesterday...and found your Christmas card from us (the second one) still in my purse. It's on it's way!

2. The economy. Without launching into a debate, I'm just beyond stunned at the level of incompetence in both the private sector and the government. Scary times.

3. A little shit head at Jack's school has implicated him in an unseemly incident. Asked him to lie about something pretty serious and (thank God) Jack refused (and promptly told me). I thought it was appropriate to let Jack's teacher know what went down, and now it looks like Jack will need to give his version of events to the principal. He is in no way, shape or form in trouble...I just know that that kind of attention is very stressful for him and now I'm wishing I'd kept my mouth shut.

Things I'm floating on air about:

1. The results of my Dad's surgery. First of all, the surgery itself was not nearly as traumatic as previously predicted and he was home in less than half the time expected. His pain levels have decreased, and he has already resumed his regular life (putting himself back on the work schedule after the New Year). The results of the pathology reports were all encouraging (4 of the 5 were negative, the 5th showed some cancer cells, but they were unable to determine if they were live or dead). So really, we got the best possible outcome and have much to be grateful for!

2. I'm going to have a house full of Aunts in a couple of months! Hoping to see my Mom's two sisters in March/April. Very, very exciting!

3. My kids. They are so excited and so cute about Christmas. I can't wait! I hope Christmas is always this much fun.

That's it for today. Oh, a quick funny story. The kids have those advent calendars that have a little piece of chocolate under each day of the month. Libby came downstairs a couple of mornings ago and says,

"WHAT?! 24 is GONE! Wait, 18 is gone, too! MOOOOMMMMMY!"

Turns out Maggie snuck downstairs and ate everyone's chocolate. Every last day was in her belly. It was so naughty, and the other two were SO mad...but, damn...that's funny!

Dear Gramma and Grampa

Suffice it to say we are thinking of you tonight, on the eve of Dad's second major surgery. You must know that you are in our hearts, in our prayers and in every thought. Dad, we will say a prayer for your speedy recovery and that this is the last time you ever need to see inside of a surgery suite again...ever. You have endured enough, and I feel very strongly that this will be it. Your cancer marathon will be done and the rest of your life will be waiting for you on the other side. Mom, we'll pray for your strength and perserverance to keep going, even went it seems too impossible.

The above is a quick word from your grandchildren, who miss you and will be sending their own brand of healing energy and love!

We love you...in every sense and depth of the word.

A Little Elf

A little preview for you. I've started gathering pictures for a retrospective of sitting on Santa's lap. I'm missing at least two years, but I know they're here somewhere. If I get the time this weekend, I'll scrounge around and scan them for Monday. In the meantime, here's Jack at about six months old.My God! I just wanna eat him!

Have a happy weekend!

Today

Libby got off the bus and announced that she wanted to shovel the driveway. We'd had about an inch of the heavy, slushy stuff and she wanted to help Daddy by having the driveway clear before he arrived home from work. Steve pulled into the driveway to Libby wielding a giant shovel, wearing her knee high pink boots and a Santa hat.

What a welcome sight!

Once back inside, Libby settled in for a little after school TV, only to be harrassed by her twin. Maggie flitted about, obstructing Libby's view often and relentlessly enough that she lept up from the couch, tackled her and gave a her a closed fist punch to the back. They were both sent to their rooms immediately...Maggie for taunting and Libby for the back-to-front knuckle sandwich. Libby stomped off, begrudgingly accepting her punishment. Maggie flailed about the family room floor until I started to count to three, threatening to double her room time. To which she slammed the TV remote onto the coffee table, realized she meant to be more dramatic, picked it back up and threw it on the floor. For good measure, she turned around and kicked my Christmas candle off the table across the room.

She didn't come out of her room until dinner.

And Jack just sat there, doing his spelling.

I'm leaving all my riches to him.

Linkedy Goodness

I have a long list of blogs I read regularly. Someday when I figure out how to do it, I will link them all in my sidebar, like real bloggers do, so that you can share in their literary goodness. But until then I'll just shamelessly steal ideas from them and occasionally link to something I think you shouldn't miss.

Like this.

**Ok, I have now typed "like this" 10 times and attempted to hyperlink or some such shit, but clearly I don't know what I'm doing. So, please, copy and paste the URL into your browser and read this blog entry. It is the single funniest piece of casual writing I've ever read (and I've revisited it several times in the last couple of years). I reread it this morning and laughed til I cried. Then I cried til my contacts leaked out of my eyes. Stick with it until the end. It's some funny shit (ha! ha! ha!). I promise.

http://captainhambone.typepad.com/not_that_you_asked/2006/03/today_is_a_spec.html

Enjoy!

**Edited to add that I will not let Blogger beat me. I finally figured it out. I linked! I have linkedy goodness! But, I was too lazy to clean up the rest of the post. So I left it.
----------------------------------------------------

Looks like I wasn't done writing! I got my Christmas presents yesterday! And I couldn't resist! I told Steve we'd wrap the packages up to put under the tree (hence giving him a major break in the gift buying catagory), but when I opened the boxes I knew I had to take everything out immediately and set it up. What is "it", you ask? Well, first let me remind you what my bedroom looked like just 9 short months ago. Ouch. It hurts my eyes to look at the hideousness. Except the comforter. I like the comforter. It's the sea foam green that makes me wanna hurl.But look at it now! Isn't it spectacular? Don't you love it? The walls were painted a couple of months ago in preparation for someday, maybe, just possibly splurging on the comforter set I'd been coveting from...drum roll, please...JCPenny's (sorry, Mom...couldn't resist). Mom casually mentioned last week that on one particular day she could get an additional DEEP discount (not the five finger kind), was there anything I needed? Yes, I needed to work my husband over to convince him that NOW was the time to act. I may, or may not, have had to do dirty things to make my point...
...but wasn't' it worth it?!

Next is a simple iron headboard and some big art for over the bed. I have some "work" to do.

Angels at Marketplace

Mondays are typically days I can plan on running errands and staying off the computer and phone (my phone whoring day off). So this morning I rushed out to Marketplace to spend my $10 JCPenny coupon because if I didn't I would have felt like I just wiped my ass with $10. I also had a pair of pants to return to Ann Taylor Loft, where the sales clerk managed to completely piss me off and make me break into a cold sweat (or a hot sweat...I refused to take my wool coat and scarf off because I didn't want to carry them...so I was roasting). She refused to credit my mall gift certificate (which I fucking USED to buy the stupid cuffed jeans. Yes, cuffed jeans) and instead made me take a store credit. And I had a receipt! I stomped out of there like a child and proceeded on to Dicks where I lost my shit in line behind a woman returning a pair of baby poop colored Uggs. Really. How long DOES it take for you to find the credit card you used to purchase those attractive boots?

I hate shopping.

Anyway, I was making my way back to my end of the mall, the end where I parked my car in such a way as to make the quickest getaway possible (I know myself too well), and witnessed two random scenes that put a lump in my throat and made me want to go back and so I was sorry to the Ann Taylor lady. I was so moved that I grabbed my cell phone and called the home phone and left a message to remind myself to blog about it. I could barely get the words out without crying (I quickly deleted it when I got home so Steve didn't have to wonder if I'd finally lost my marbles).

The first was right when I walked out of Dick's and was just gaining speed with my long, purposeful, get-me-the-hell-out-of-here strides when I had to slow down for an older couple holding hands. They were two men, in their late 50's, I presume, and of different races. As I passed them, I glanced back and saw that one was profoundly mentally challenged. They were strolling through the mall, hand in hand, checking out the sights and watching other people. I suppose the "normal" guy was used to second glances. But he seemed oblivious to anyone and held the other mans hand so sweetly that it made me want to stop and hug them both. And buy them ice cream.

The second was only moments later. I was walking much slower by now...and hopefully didn't look quite so bitchy anymore. I wasn't exactly sure which way to go, so I stopped to look at one of those "You Are Here" maps (my quick getaway plan did not account for my poor sense of direction). Right behind the map was the North Pole and Santa was seated at his throne for pictures. Sitting on his knee was a woman who was 95 if she was a day. She had her picture taken, and, hunched over so low her head was near her cane, she was gingerly helped down by a woman in her 50's. The younger of the two quickly told Santa she'd be back, then turned her attention to the little old woman, and brightly told her "You looked beautiful". She slowly lead her back to the line, where three other old women stood waiting. They, too, were waiting to get their pictures taken with Santa.

Oh my God. I wanted to pick them up and put them all on Santa's lap, then take them for ice cream, too. I truly do hate the mall. I hate shopping. I hate the crowds. I hate sweating. But today I was reminded that you don't have to look too far to find the goodness in people. That there are people so willing to be at the service of others, who will endure the madness at the mall during Christmas to help someone far less fortunate enjoy the holidays.

Don't get me wrong. I like to think that I am kind and have a generous spirit. I frequently embarrass Steve by following older folks to their cars with their groceries. I've helped elderly or handicapped people into their cars and taken their carts back the coral. Helping other people does actually make me happy. I try to be a good person. And for some reason the grocery store doesn't bring out the worst in me quite like the mall.

And today I forgot that there are all kinds of people trying to get things done at the mall. People who challenges far exceed my need to get in and out. People who deserve my patience and respect. I was embarrassed with my short temper.

I will avoid the mall (and other places full of shopping crazed people), but if I find myself back in the same situation, I will remember those two angels at Marketplace today. And I will be patient and kind...and patient.

And you must, too.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that before I left I had to go back and eat crow at Ann Taylor. I had $37 of store credit, with no intentions of visiting the mall in the near future, so I wanted to be done with it. First of all, Ann Taylor's clothes are heinous, and secondly, they cost a small fortune. I scrounged up two t-shirty things and found out at the register that I still had $7 dollars to spend. Without thinking, I told the sales clerk that I'd quickly find something else to buy because "I will not be stepping foot back in this store".

I guess you can't go cold turkey on bitch.

A New Tradition

Last year my friend, Beth, and I arranged a craft night in lieu of exchanging gifts. She contributed these giant wooden Christmas trees that she'd scarfed up from the Michael's 90% off Christmas sale the year before, which the six kids painted and decorated. My contributions were six Haunted Gingerbread Houses that I snagged after Halloween at Aldi's ($2 each! How could I not?). I just bought a couple of pounds of Christmas candy and we were in business! It was a great evening and made Beth and I feel so much better about not spoiling the kids.

Trouble is (or was) that Maggie, Libby and Jack assumed that we had started a new Christmas tradition. A tradition of rushing to Aldi's after Halloween to grab the clearance gingerbread kits. A tradition of spending a small fortune on candy and a powdered sugar/super glue concoction. A tradition of 14 (no lie!) tubes of hot glue to hold the structure together and about 30 minutes of table and floor clean up time once we were done.

But it was so worth it! We had such a fun night. They were a joy to watch.They each focused on their own house and asked for help only when they needed it. And they tolerated my interventions when I couldn't keep my mouth shut or my hands to myself. They were EVER so proud to pose with their masterpieces when the last candy cane was slathered in place.So, yes. I guess we do have a new family tradition. Some day it will be fun to look back on the progression of their imagination, patience and willingness to NOT eat the candy!
God help me if Aldi's stops selling Haunted Houses!

PS. It was 15 degrees today. Libby dressed herself.