Dear Tree, You were a tough old bird. The best one we've had yet.

I had this lovely, touching little post all set in my mind to write, explaining my thoughts and feelings as to why our Christmas tree was still alive and well and still giving off magic in my living room, even after doing so for well over a month, even without being watered for nearly two weeks.

I believed it to be because our tree had yet to see any snow glistening outside the window. There had been absolutely NO snowfall, which was surely uncommon and a little bit saddening. Even I can admit that.

My well thought out post then continued on about this being the main reason why I couldn’t bring myself to take down the tree, because while it’s been with us there hasn’t been a trace of a white Christmas. So taking the tree down while it was still fresh and oh so patiently waiting seemed like a travesty indeed, like depriving a twelve year-old girl of a training bra. Just all wrong and mean. This was the justification I was using anyway, never mind the fact that this argument of ‘trees holding on and hoping for snow’ would have no legs in places like California, Florida, the equator, Mordor . . . yadda, yadda, yadda.

Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if it didn’t go and snow before I had time to write out that post of mine that promised to be one of my best, which I only summarized briefly here! 

It was a meager amount of snow for sure, but apparently it was enough to satisfy our tree because overnight it done checked off the last thing on its bucket list and gave up the ghost. Needles everywhere.

I guess instead I could write about how my theory was actually correct. Too prideful of a post I suppose? Or about how it’s a sad day in our house when the tree comes down. All the barren space, all the back pain. But who would want to read a depressing post like that?

Is your tree still up? Only respond if it's good news please.

Absolutely Guaranteed to Grow

If there’s one thing I know how to do it’s take a vacation. I love to shirk responsibilities, in a responsible holiday sort of way, any chance I can get! I did practically nothing besides try to enjoy myself for two whole weeks.

Somehow I even got Mother Loops to do my laundry for me, without really asking her. Oh, and all the Wii dancing action deserves a mention. I was sore for days. Days! Though I did take breaks every once and awhile to feed the kids. They deserve it, even though the holidays and all the gift receiving had rather undesirable side effects that can only be described as “Ugh”. I can hardly blame them though. It is rather abnormal to suddenly get everything you wanted, one day of the year, and then be expected to SHARE! And then be expected to not start sentences with the words: but, no, why, me, candy. 

Anyway, I do hope everyone had the merriest of Christmas and New Year’s celebrations.

Finally it’s 2012 which is great because I’ve been writing 2012 on my checks for the past twelve or so months. Yes, all three of those checks I wrote.

Starting a new year is always a little perplexing and maddening for me because January usually coincides with the time I have no desire to do anything and yet the strong desire to do everything. I don’t really work things out in my brain and hit any sort of stride until late March.

So, eventually I'll have lots of riveting* things to share and discuss if I can remember what those things are. But other matters require my attention at the moment so give me 4-6 days. Maybe even 7, depending on water temperature!

Tally ho!

*Silly

P.S. If you're into Instagram, let's be buddies. You can find me under ramblingsarah or @00red (that's double zero red just to be sure :)

Treats and snoozin', snoozin' and treats

Well I'm gonna go try and soak up all the magic of the Christmas season for the next couple weeks, before winter is just boring, drab, old winter again come January 2nd, when the snow no longer holds mysterious powers, but is instead what it really is: frozen water.

So I bid you all adieu for a short time. Merry Christmas! And a Happy New Year!

I leave you with more than adequate material for your viewing pleasure. Sure you've probably seen old Marcel a million times, but it's just too good not to watch yet another time!

Read on! I can smell his face!

I guess I can check 'magician' and 'Santa' off his list of possible future careers

Bosco: How do reindeer fly? How do Santa’s elves know that I was naughty yesterday? How do treats keep showing up in the advent calendar? And how does Santa know we have a tree!?

Me: Magic.

Bosco: UUUUggghhh. Everything’s magic! It’s always magic! Can’t Santa do anything without that? I sure hope he can eat and sleep without magic!

I think someone needs a big cup of hot cocoa . . . before we once again broach the subject of Santa and chimneys.

Now let's just hope everything arrives in the mail

Without really thinking things through, I visited a popular mega super toy store the other day. I did this on the pretense that I am a good mom, and as a good mom I am willing to go to stores I typically loathe because something my child wants for Christmas lies inside the walls of one of these stores (this is a bologna belief by the way or btw).

The minute the automatic doors swooshed open I regretted my good momness.

People everywhere. Displays everywhere. Kids running to and fro all hopped up on holiday greediness. Parents all focused on grabbing whatever’s left.

Immediately my skin itched with sensory overload. And the germs right?

I contemplated leaving then and there. I had a minimal amount of time, and a minimal amount of blood sugar. The Husband had dropped me off while he and the kids went to gas up the car. Twenty-five minutes tops. I figured I could handle that and find at least one of the five things on my wish list.

Wrong.

I scoured aisle after aisle, and was getting rather hot under the collar, literally. Bad day for the itchy wool coat. I had been to this store before (gasp!) so I should have remembered that usually I had to rely on an employee to help me find the hidden treasure. Me and my foolish ways. But how was I going to explain to an employee what I was looking for when I wasn’t exactly 100% sure of what it was called. I only had a picture in my head and a hope in my heart and a child’s description.

So I forged ahead, through cart traffic and wailing toddlers and toy ATMs

Even when I found an area where a certain item should have been I couldn’t even get front row access because there were two other rows of people huddled around looking too.

And before I knew it my time was up and I had NOTHING to show for my good intentions. Plus, I hated any and all toys, especially the ones that could launch things.

So I went home, decided some toys weren't all that bad, whittled down and changed a few things on that list to better match my mother sensibilities, and ordered everything online.

Then I made myself a steaming hot cup of cocoa, plopped in three (or four) Candy Cane Hershey Kisses and drank it by twinkle light.

I recommend you do so too, if you haven’t already. It helps restore those depleted of Christmas spirit.

I had just settled down for a long winter's nap . . .

Worry no more! I was finally able to get into the Christmas spirit. It came upon me in the wee small hours of the morning, as I was slowly drifting off to sleep. I was a mere inch away from sweet slumber when all of the sudden the Husband let out a noise that can only be described as a billy goat under attack. He did so twice.

Needless to say, I found it near impossible to get back to sleep after that, afraid that I might get trampled to death in a ferocious billy goat stampede.

So there I was with loads of time to whip myself into a holiday frenzy. After much contemplation I decided that this would be “The Year of the Beaded Garland” as well as “The Year I Buy New Twinkle Lights Instead of Spend Two Hours Fixing the Ancient Ones.” I even toyed around with the idea that I would go all classic with white lights, but ultimately I knew deep in my heart that my allegiance has always belonged to those multi-colored bulbs. But sometimes it’s fun to pretend you’re a different person than you really are right?

Anyway, after much soul-searching and many an important decision made I found myself right excited about the season. Then I fell asleep and had weird Christmasy dreams. For example, I dreamed I gave birth to a baby in a blizzard whilst surrounded by goats, even though I had washboard abs (hey it was a dream) and not even a hint of heartburn so I was pretty darn surprised to have a full grown baby in a blizzard. Then I totally understood how all those ladies could gestate for nine months and say “I didn’t know I was pregnant” with a straight face. It’s called empathy folks. And I had some of it. Christmas miracle!*

Then I woke up to my real life kid crying and remembered his real life birth and once again decided that those ladies are full of something other than a baby…

But none of that matters! Because the Christmas elves left us stuff behind door number one!

{Oh hey, Rudolph}

*I should probably stop eating burritos and taquitos before I go to bed, obviously.

A line from What About Bob is usually my go-to source for titles when I'm drawing a blank. How about "A vacation from my problems"

Hello neglected blog! My sincere apologies for leaving you in such a pitiful state. The family and I were out traipsing around a good chunk of America for two weeks, visiting family and what not.

I’ll spare you readers a day-by-day synopsis and just say we had a lovely Christmas and New Years. This pretty much sums it up:

That blurry figure in the front is the excited  aura of Bosco

And also for the record, travelling with a redhead, her husband, and two rapscallion boys in a non-van or SUV vehicle makes for all sorts of rash ultimatums to be made and a plentiful amount of neck and back pain to accrue. We’re all recovering nicely though from our travel wounds.

Except for that large bump I have on my forehead head after hitting it on my parents’ treadmill . . . that one still hurts (sounds funnier than it actually was so I won’t expound).

So aside from our interesting travels where we trekked through about four different climates,

managed to have our gas tank overflow with copious amounts of fuel at a Chevron (bad pump), had to deal with a kid who is now potty trained and couldn’t just go poo in a diaper, had to pull over because our hood wasn’t closed all the way, thought our car was smoking, FOG, had a kid get scared at the top of a McDonald’s playhouse and scream bloody murder for us to come get him, COLD, gave and received awesome gifts, I got my dream boots!, kids got spoiled rotten delicious, FOOD, had a stranger ask me where I got my dream boots (that's never happened to me in my life!), had two different highway patrol cars tail us,  most likely running our plates and coming up with nothing, then driving off, and where the Husband decided to use this vacation as an excuse to start growing a beard . . . (I told him if he kept it I was going to blog about it. Apparently this did not sound appealing to him because he shaved it off before I could get a picture.)

. . . yeah aside from all that I really have nothing to talk about.

Oh and where are my manners? Happy 2011! I didn’t make any resolutions yet because I never do and because it’s hard for me to think of something I’m resolute about. No worries though. Something always comes along that gets me all fiery and motivated. Last January it was this blog. Perhaps this year it will be something more self-involved and narcissistic, like lying about my age. Or maybe something that will benefit humanity, like ridding the world of gremlins.

And you? Got resolutions?

Please Christmas don't be late.

Since Christmas Day is almost upon us, I thought it appropriate to take a little mental snapshot of the state of my home at this very moment, an end of the year holiday inventory if you will.

-Our Christmas tree is dead. Like touch the needles and shards of pine will embed deep into your skin dead. Completely dry and sullen looking. This is to be expected though when some crazy person insists on getting a real tree and getting it the first day of December. No worries though. The ornaments and lights disguise its lifelessness well enough. I am, however, worried about spontaneous combustion. That would be a sad state of affairs for all involved.

-My skin is dry. Perhaps this can be linked back to the Christmas tree.

-I made/asked the Husband to bring in some old tree limbs, for decoration purposes of course. He said a cat had probably peed on it. He's probably right. But it looks so dang festive I don't care. And it was free.

-Bubba will only eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, with the occasional consumption of treats from the advent calendar.

-Bosco's musical talents have reached new horizons, thanks in part to Christmas songs. We've had the pleasure of hearing Jingle Bells at least fifty times, first line only of course, followed by mumbo jumbo, followed by putting his entire life to music. I have a truck . . . not just any truck. It's a truck that does not give off poopy yuckiness. It picks up trash instead. And look! My mommy is cooking dinner for me. I will not eat the trees (broccoli). Singing all of this, mind you. And I've come to realize even more now that I did indeed give birth to the male version of me. Also, I've started to wonder how, after raising me, my parents can still manage coherent thoughts despite their exposure to my own daily barrage of singing.

-There's mistletoe (fake) hanging in an entryway. To be honest, I should have put it in a less frequently used hallway because my lips are always chapped this time of year.

- There's nearly a foot of fresh snow outside and just in time for my snow cone craving.

- 2:00 A.M. has become my new bedtime.

- Presents have been wrapped and stuffed in the closet with an average amount of care. Although, there may be a few gifts I have yet to find because I've forgotten my hiding places. I always wondered how my mother could just plum forget about a present and then find it in February. After spending nearly an hour looking for the whereabouts of the Husband's present and on the verge of hysteria, now I know how something like that can happen. No need to worry though. The Husband found his present right where I had forgot I left it.

-Our carpet is in desperate need of cleaning after the holidays are over. This became apparent when I spot cleaned a few places and now they stick out like a clean thumb. I'm thinking about going over the spots again with dirt just to get the uniform look back. It's seriously driving me nutso.

-I've gained one pound and couldn't be happier about it. I'm stocking up for the cold winter months ahead. Thank you holiday treats.

And now my friends, perhaps you should do the same. I shall see you in the new year! Merry Christmas from this particular redhead and her gang.

My sister said we look freakishly tall in this pic. Nearly the size of a barn! I figured something like that doesn't happen to me everyday so I need to spread the falsehood while I can.

Mission Impossible

On the last shopping weekend before Christmas I voluntarily put myself into the madness mix. Why? Well certainly not because I still had Christmas shopping to do. No I was done with that weeks ago, just like a good little girl.

No, I was on the search for some boots. I needed boots. Flat camel colored boots to be specific, mid-calf. Maybe ankle if I was feeling so inclined. They just couldn't go too high on the leg or else I would start to resemble a gnome. Such is the lot of a short person. I cope as well as I can.

Also, I didn't want any bells or whistles on my boots. No ornamentation or GPS tracking devices inserted in the heel. Nothing fancy. Just a simple dang pair of boots, that matched my precise requirements. This should not have been hard right?

Well apparently these boots do not exist anywhere on Earth except for in my imagination because these boots of mine were no where to be found. Not even in the finest of stores. My sister can attest to this fact seeing as how she was with me, and had to deal with my outbursts of chagrin.

So I learned a lesson, a lesson I had learned in years past, but forgot that I had already learned it. The lesson being: If I'm ever looking for something on purpose I will never find it. However if I'm looking with no particular object in mind I will most assuredly have magical finds. How silly of me to forget this. I should have been looking for ear muffs instead because I don't want ear muffs, and as a result I would have unexpectedly  found boots. I'm a firm believer in reverse psychological. The universe uses it on me all the time.

Well after spending HOURS looking for shoes and going into a two story Forever 21, and coming to terms with the state of my stretch marks, I tried to drown my sorrows in hot chocolate. But if you can even believe it the hot chocolate was disgusting. I never thought I'd live to see the day where I said such a thing but the hot chocolate HAD TO BE THROWN AWAY. A travesty indeed.

And to put a lovely little cap on things, I discovered that my black shoes, the shoes I was wearing at that precise shopping moment, the shoes wherein I wear when black shoes are necessary, as is a little height,  yes these shoes were in dire straits. Behold the magnitude of the situation:

Steve Madden?! What happened there?



Well I guess if I'm being honest with my near thirty self, I've had those shoes since my college years, and I've rolled my ankle many a time while wearing them. Fond memories for sure. But still . . . it appears that now I need to find the ever elusive pair of camel boots plus a black pair to boot. (Ha!) Because what shall I do when nothing besides black will do and the camel/taupe/tan/brown is nowhere to be found?

What shall I do?!

Friday Confessions: If you can't reach me it's because I'm not in my cave

I can’t believe I’m going to tell y’all this. It sort of makes me feel like a cave woman living with her cave family in a cave, den if you will, snacking on day old dinosaur meat and washing it all down with a hand-scoop of fresh swamp water. Yes, that pretty much sums up how I feel when I tell people I don’t have a cell phone.

You heard it straight from the cave woman herself. My family does not own a cell phone. Smart phone? What’s that? Texting? Sounds creepy? Being able to be reached by cellular technology 24/7? Sounds like a nightmare.

Let me clarify a few things though before you totally think me bonkers.

One: I had a cell phone when I was single and cool. When the Husband and I got married the cell phone went and college tuition stayed. I did however keep that trusty old Nokia of mine as a memento. People laugh when they see it. You're probably wondering why people see it? Well that's because the Husband likes to show it to visitors.

Two: I would like a cell phone. I am not anti-cell phone. The husband is. The thought of wanting to be “reachable” whenever, wherever perplexes him. Probably disgusts him a little too.

Three: The Husband is not unwilling to compromise. When I was preggers with Bosco and birth was imminent, I made requested that we get one of those pay-as-you-go cell phones. He obliged. Turns out though that all I had to do to let him know I was in labor was turn over in bed and tell him my water just broke. Bummer. He did get to use the cell phone a few hours later though to call his parents and tell them their first grandbaby had arrived, which he did right after he spent a few minutes trying to figure out how to use the cell phone. Tee hee.

Four: We still have that very same pay-as-you-go cell phone. I carry it around occasionally in case of emergencies when we are traveling. But you must know that this phone barely qualifies as a phone. It is not smart. It is not even semi-smart. It is only just barely averagely smart. And smart isn’t even the right word for it. Plus it looks like this:

That's a potato.

Only sillier, slightly thinner, and less edible.

Five: So technically I do have a cell phone, but not in the terms a cell phone has come to mean these days. Technology is passing us by, and the Husband usually doesn’t seem to care one bit.

At least this is what I thought until yesterday about 6:08 P.M., when the Husband revealed to me what he is getting me for Christmas/my upcoming birthday. I didn’t even think to measure how far my jaw dropped.

I’ve got to admit I didn’t see that one coming. It’s not a cell phone, but apparently the Husband is willing to go to totally illogical lengths to distract me from that fact. Dag nabbit it worked.

Note: It is absolutely, probably, most likely possible that tiny green alien life forms are currently inhabiting my Husband's body. Has this ever happened to any of you? What should I do?

Christmas Cheer Rules

As promised here are the Christmas Cheer Rules. Follow these fifteen rules to enjoy Christmas cheer well into the New Year. Or your money back.

1. Don’t make it necessary to go to the DMV anytime during the month of December. Christmas Cheer and DMV cannot coexist. It’s a simple matter of physics and latitude/longitude.

2. If you plan on hand-making your Christmas gifts you must start well in advance. July for example. This is the only way the scenario will play out well.

3. Never ever do a Google search for lyrics to a Christmas song, then click on the first link provided. Your computer will undoubtedly be attacked by a Trojan of some sort, leaving your computer a useless pile just in time for Christmas Day.

4. Never intentionally take away the element of gift-giving surprise for another. Included but not limited to flat out telling someone what they are receiving for Christmas and/or revealing Santa’s true identity. (This rule, however, does not apply when snooping on behalf of yourself. Feel free to sneak through closets, attics, and underwear drawers until you have spoiled all surprises for yourself.)

5. If you plan on making Almond Roca toffee, be sure to mix in the almonds before you have the candy all spread out. If you forget this key step, you will feel stupid and angry. This of course is the opposite of Christmas Cheer.

6. Don’t watch Extra with Mario Lopez because you will want to gauge your eyes out and also cut off your own ears. Many have failed to heed this warning and are now sitting by their Christmas tree, without eyeballs or ears. That is no way to spend the holidays.

7. Cobwebs are not an appropriate holiday decoration whether they be real or fake. Take care of them before they take care of you.

8. Presents smaller than a car must be wrapped. And if you are giving someone a car for Christmas you are required to donate one year of your life in service of Santa Claus.

9. December 1st through 31st be aware that your car becomes a “Christmas Music Only Zone.” Respect this law.

10. Do not stay up until 2 A.M. more than three nights in a row. Otherwise your body will stage a mutiny and you will say things you’ll regret like, “I swear if this cold doesn’t go away fast I’m going to rip my nose off.” Obviously breaking this rule while also breaking rule #6 is a dangerous combination.

11. During the holiday season you must have the makings for hot chocolate somewhere in your place of residence. A Christmas without hot chocolate is like Ireland without leprechauns. Scary and depressing.

             image

12. Generally speaking, you should not make relationship decisions during the holidays. Keanu’s famous words, “Relationships based on extreme circumstances rarely ever work,” are never truer than around Christmas.

13. If you are travelling for the holidays don’t forget to bring your brain along. You can’t pick one of these up at the store, at least not for a reasonable price.

14. More often than not, the smell of poop will over power the smell of pine. And pine is essential for Christmas cheer. Unfortunately the way the world is today with babies and indoor bathrooms, this situation is unavoidable. To increase the odds of pine dominance always wear a small branch of pine needles under your sleeve. Breathe in deeply whenever necessary.

15. Sanitize. Sanitize. Sanitize. And by sanitize I mean chocolate.

Friday Confessions: I'm not sure addiction is the right word for it

Friday Confessions time. I admit that I may or may not be addicted to Etsy. Perhaps you’ve heard of it? In my almost always correct opinion, it’s the happiest place in cyber space.

It’s like lemon drops, new car smell, cuddly baby monkeys, the most perfect piece of peach cobbler, freshly shaved (shorn?) legs, and a whole bag of chips just for you, all wrapped nicely together (in handmade paper!), then sprinkled with fairy godmother dust until it’s bubbling over with massive amounts of wonderful. And then all your dreams come true.

But you see, it’s hard for me to say I’m truly addicted. I have yet to compare myself with other people and their Etsy consumption. And comparison is key when trying to figure such things out.

Also there should probably be some more scientific research on the subject before I can make an educated guess. Show me studies, statistics, lab rats, what have you. But this information simply doesn’t exist, yet. This is why I say I may or may not be addicted. I’m leaning towards may, just based on a gut feeling of mine. I’m prone to gut feelings.

But I’ll let you make your own judgments about me. It should be known that I did about 82% of my Christmas shopping through Etsy shops this year. Lovely things for the children, the man attached to me by marriage, mother, sisters . . . myself. Husband it was so thoughtful of you to let me pick something out for myself this year! What a handsome devil you are. I love what I picked out for myself!

Why did I do this instead of go to the blasted mall? Well at some point this year I jumped on the handmade band wagon without really realizing it. Not me personally making handmade things. Heavens I don’t have the patience for that right now. But supporting those who do and have dreamy products to show for it.

Just a snap shot of some prints I got for the kiddies and myself to fill up these sullen empty walls of ours. Remember how I am trying to make my house a home? Bingo.

And this is just what I can show you. I can’t show you gifts for people who might actually peruse this post. That would be breaking Christmas Cheer Rule #4. Never intentionally take away the element of surprise for others on Christmas morning (Perhaps I’ll tell you the other rules another day. There are fifteen after all. Rules that is.) Just know that the other gifts are equally awesome.

So what say you? Am I showing signs of addiction or just a normal amount of adoration?

For those interested, here are the prints I purchased and the shops so you can peruse the magic for yourself. I love them all.

Anything that quotes truth is worth my money. The first one is going right above my stove. And the other is going above my washer/dryer. This is the kind of inspiration I need and want.

Kantan Designs

I sing this song to Bubba everyday. Awwww. Love it.

Sugar Fresh

It's uncanny how well this print portrays my Bosco. He's going to immediately turn into his superhero self when he sees it.

Cinnamon Ink

I love this watercolor print titled Love Birds. It suits the Husband and I quite well. I'll let you decide which bird is who.

ashmae

Happy Christmas shopping!

While I was out . . .

Hey! Remember how I just wrote a post about finally getting our Christmas tree up after much travail? Well, this weekend, just for kicks, I redecorated the whole thing. The ornament placement was really bothering me.

Well that is not entirely the truth. I’ve come to learn first-hand that redecorating the Christmas tree is what one has to do out of necessity when one has a jolly little fifteen-month old human who somehow ends up sprawled on the floor with the Christmas tree on top of him.

I’m not gonna lie. I thought this was something that only happened to silly sitcom families, and on America’s Funniest Home Videos. This isn’t something that would ever happen under my watch. That last sentence I can still claim to be truth though, seeing as how I was not home when The Incident occurred. The Husband was on duty and that’s all I’m going to say about that.

Except I will say that the Husband’s efforts to fix/cover-up the incident exceeded his normal standards. Either that or I was uncharacteristically inattentive. I didn’t even notice anything askew until Bosco told me Bubba pulled the tree down.

I thought he was joking until I noticed that some of the ornaments I intentionally placed in certain places on the tree were now in other places, and the kitchen table was littered with various ornaments that had lost their wire hooks to the dark pine abyss . . . and the carpet was damp, and there were drenched towels on the kitchen floor, and the stench of guilt lingered in the air. It was all almost too much to bear.

But being the weirdo I am, I had to try and put everything back where it had been originally or else my obsessive nature would have eaten me alive. Because I had enjoyed seeing that ornament from that couch, and I had enjoyed seeing that other ornament from the other coach. My oh my, the levels to my crazy run deep.

Bubba is fine, I think. A little shy around Christmas trees now. If I had witnessed The Incident in person I might have been compelled to say goodbye to Christmas trees forever. My human baby! With pine needles stuffed in his mouth! Scratching his eyeballs! Sapping up his hair! Destroying his Christmas cheer! With a face that surely looked something like this. Something pitiful.

But perhaps my imagination is even worse than the reality.

You are all witnesses though. I said in Post 128, Line 40-41 that the tree was not as stable as I would have liked. Freaking foreshadowing people.

Please note: A counter weight consisting of roughly ten pounds of coins has now been placed on the opposite side of the tree (a side that cannot be accessed by toddlers, let alone me) so as to hopefully prevent further damage to my children and my holidays.

Nothing a little determination can't fix

Do you remember where you were and what you were doing this past Monday evening? Normally it would take me about ten minutes to answer this question myself. My memory is not what it once was. Plus in the winter (well I guess year-round) days have a way of melding into one.

But not this Monday. No, I remember exactly what I was doing. It was to be a joyous occasion in our household for it was the day that our real Christmas tree was to be bought, arranged, decorated, and cherished. Was being the operative word.

Without going too much into detail about the crazy workings of my mind and the Husband’s mind, we (I) managed to pick out a tree worthy of our humble abode. The Husband schlepped it home in his truck while I taxied the rest of the family back home in our car, apparently a car uncapable of Christmas tree transporation, according to a marital partner of mine.

Later in the day, when the Husband was able to set aside time to trim the trunk and put it in the stand, Bosco had managed to work himself into a frenzy after being promised a magical Christmas tree decorating evening. He had our new yearly ornament all ready to put on the tree at his eye level. But the poor chap ended up waiting a long time, thanks to cosmic unknown forces.

Things did not go so smoothly, as they have a tendency to do when I have high hopes and even higher expectations. Last year the same thing happened . . . I can’t remember what exactly. But I’m sure things did not go off without a hitch. Was that the year we picked the tree out in the pouring rain? For the record I’d rather ponder which tree has the best overall persona while standing in falling snow, not rain.

Or was that the year we had to tie the tree to the top of our car with semi-worthless string that was threaded around the roof of the car then through our open windows all whilst I worried about being strangled to death.

Oh maybe it was the year I got Irremovable Sap of Strength stuck to my hands, these hands of mine that have never been the same since.

Well no matter. It’s all in the past. This year was its own kind of special.

For starters the trunk was too big for our tree stand. I suggested going to get a new one, a tree stand that is. The Husband suggested something else, something more frustrating. Just know that our tree is not as stable as I would desire it to be and I’m not quite sure if it’s able to get any water. Also I’m not sure if the Husband is who he says he is.

With the tree now in relatively acceptable conditional I proceeded with my plans of perfection, that was until I had arranged the lights on the tree then plugged them in for my moment of triumph. And of course the one time I failed to test them earlier is the one time only the top part of the tree was all aglow.

Well by that time the kiddos were well on their way to earning the title of beasts so we kissed them softly and sent them to bed, without any bread or Christmas cheer. It was rather heartbreaking for me.

The Husband and I then spent the next two long grueling hours of our lives testing the strand of lights that refused work. Yes we did this rather than just go out and buy a new set. Please direct all questions and comments on the matter to the Husband, seeing as how he was the one who wanted a good challenge.

After some dumb luck, brain power, and I think maybe a little Christmas magic sent our way, we got half the strand of lights to work, then eventually the whole thing. But my question is why all of the sudden did eight lights decide to burn out? Not one or two. But eight? I’ll just add this to the list of questions I have that will probably never be answered. Like what are hot dogs made of, really? And why isn't Oprah president yet?

I am glad to report though that the next night we finally finished what we started. The tree is lit. The garland strung. The ornaments placed. And most importantly, my house smells like a dang pine forest. I love it. It is worth it. It is worth it. Repeat after me.

I sincerely hope none of you try to sell me on the idea of a fake tree because I will hear nothing of the sort. Nothing! Of the sort!

Push people over if need be

Well now that I’ve stuffed myself to the brim with mashed potatoes and gravy, I’m ready to get into the Christmas spirit.

This week we have our first Christmas party to attend. If any of you should find yourself at the Husband’s work dinner party you will probably want to get your hands on the white elephant gift lovingly wrapped in Sesame Street themed paper.

Why? Because inside you will find joy beyond measure. Please allow me to elaborate on what exactly awaits the lucky one who snatches our present.

A small, delicate berry red pouch constructed of the finest genuine velvet-like felt material. Complete with golden drawstring capabilities. Hand stitched solid gold threading displays the timeless message of “YOU'VE BEEN NAUGHTY”

Inside, the gift recipient will find not one, but two large lumps of coal.

A fossil fuel lover’s dream come true. No worries about black smudges though as these coal bits are purely imitation. They will last for years to come.

Carefully constructed by residents of China and sent straight to you.

Perfect for that special someone or business associate/fellow nerd.

Please note: For ages 7 and up.

Like I said. You’ll probably want to do everything in your power to get the gift we’re bringing (It was either this or re-gift the frog that dances to “I’m Just a Love Machine” we brought home last year.)

Don't even pretend like you don't know Christmas is right around the corner

So I put my Christmas decorations up yesterday. Okay I’ll admit. That was a complete lie. I am not one of those people. But I know some of those people. They are the people who are generally happy 24/7. Try as I might, I do not have that quality to add to my resume. Instead, I waste my time trying to be clever and planning out my holiday to-do list. But sadly the holidays are not really about being clever now are they?

Make no mistake though. The holiday season that is almost upon us is perhaps my most favorite time of the year. It practically forces the happiness to ooze out of my pores. I mean who can be gloomy when twinkling lights are every which way you look. I like a holiday that wields such power. I will, however, wait until December 1st to put all my well thought out plans into action. That’s the prudent side of me having her say.

Anyway, to prove that I’m not a scrooge I will list three things I'm having visions of right now that practically make me Mrs. Clause.

1. Firstly, I insist on a real Christmas tree every year. I shower that thing with love. Water it religiously. And curse it minimally whilst I pick up its dry needles. I also protect it from the grubby destructive hands of humans less than three feet tall. I think this year I will try out those picks that are all the rage.

2. Secondly, I listen to Christmas music, enthusiastically. The Carpenters. Bing Crosby. The Chipmunks. All classics in my home. This year I may even throw in a little holiday NKOTB

3. Thirdly, and most importantly, I send out Christmas cards every year. Even before we had children, the Husband and I made this a tradition, even when we only had a crappy picture to include. It’s our way of saying, “We may not ever speak to you any other time of the year, but just know that we feel you are worth the cost of this card and the postage to mail it to you. Love you!” And then imagine the delight I get when I receive Christmas cards in return. It’s like they are saying the very same thing to me! I don’t know about you, but that makes me feel pretty dang special.

This year I'm going to try something new with our cards. I’ve been looking at the options Shutterfly has. I’ve heard good things. We’ve done photo cards for the past few years because they are easy, but to be honest good designs were hard to come by. But Shutterfly has so many options my head may just explode trying to pick one.

Right now I’m liking this one, but I want to keep friends and family guessing so I will not commit to anything here and now! I am nothing if not indecisive.

Maybe this one:

Oh, wait no. This one.

Crap!

And now to try and capture a semi-decent picture of my family in its entirety. My stomach and brain hurt just thinking about it. I guess I could always use the fake family in the card if need be. I wonder if anyone will notice.

Note: I will receive 50 cards from Shutterfly for perusing and telling you about their holiday card collection. But I only agreed to do so because I love all the options they have. Too good not to share.