Signs of the Post-Holiday Bliss

1. Socks with no holes! Pants that actually reach the ankles! Thank you Santa!

2. Adorable ornaments still making me smile.

3. One warm young man, all wrapped up in seven years' worth of soccer and football jerseys.

4. A second warm young man, all wrapped up in Dad's old BDU's.

5. A very happy mom, sporting the new Canon 85mm f 1.8 portrait lens. For further evidence of its amazing capabilities, join me in my Focker circle of trust for a peek here.

and PS... yes I DID make those blankets myself. And yes I DID hoard soccer and football jerseys for seven years with this very purpose in mind. And yes I DID break at least five machine needles trying to sew through army uniforms. And yes, it was all completely worth it because Mika and Jordan LOVE them.

*and yes, I DID swear more than once in the process of trying to sew.

Do You Know What Today Is? It's Our Anniversary.

Guess what? We have been married for THREE WHOLE YEARS now. In some ways, it feels like I've already spent my life with this man.


We have had a super year. It has not been without its trials, but I am continually amazed at how much we continue to learn how to work together to overcome them. A friend once told me that her turning point through marital discord was when her husband told her, "We are on the same team here." So often, it's easy to play on your own team... setting out for the highest score, the fastest time, the best record. And while you think you're doing it for the right reasons, if in the end you have no teammate... what have you won?


This guy is so hot! I love him.

In honor of our three years together, I have picked the three things I love most about my marriage.
1. We talk. All the time. Companionship is very comforting, particularly in the form of someone you enjoy so much.
2. We have learned how to fight. Both of us are very stubborn, very determined, and very impatient. This could be a trainwreck. We've figured out what works for us, and we try really hard to apply it.
3. We are still ridiculously in love. We are affectionate and passionate and happy. The highest compliment I've ever received was when Mika told us, "When I get married, I want my relationship to be just like you guys'."



The first three years of eternity. Time well spent, I'd say.

I love you, baby. Happy Anniversary.

Things For Which I Feel Only Semi-Grateful

1. My daughter's "HELP" in cleaning her room, and her new vacuity of toys.
I have been under the impression that my daughter's room was clean.

MY BAD.

Her idea of clean, albeit resourceful, is a bit lacking in actual cleanliness. She has been taking all her stuff, putting it into bags, and hiding the bags around her room. Here are a few I found today. They were literally packed with toys, papers, and laundry.


I figured since Christmas is on Friday, an "out with the old, in with the new" approach would be appropriate. So we sorted through her clever bags of stuff, and made two piles: Good Will, and Trash. I allowed her to choose which items went into each pile. Do you know what she did?




She got rid of almost every single one of her toys. Barbie walkie-talkies? Gone. Baby doll stroller? Gone. All Polly Pockets? G-O-N-E. She still has all her board games and her Play-Doh. A small box of stuffed animals made the cut. Other than that, she got rid of it all. I am grateful she "tries" to clean her room, not grateful for the actual result. I am grateful she got rid of all that junk, not grateful for the fact that she has nothing to play with for the next five days of winter break.

2. Fed-Ex
I am grateful for Fed-Ex because I didn't have to go to the post office today to mail my BFF Lisa's present. I am not grateful that I had to pay Express Shipping due to my procrastination. I am grateful that Fed-Ex is thorough and secure. I am not grateful I had to contemplate the question "Are there any interred human remains in your package?" Also, kinda bugged that he used the word "interred", which in my opinion would not apply to this situation. Am I wrong in thinking that should be used in reference to something buried in the ground? Not neatly packaged in a festive holiday box?

I guess my list only has two items on it. There are a lot of other things for which I am indeed grateful. My house is decorated, my cookies are baked, my presents are bought and delivered. I have 2 weeks off from work to spend with my kids. Now if those darn stamps would just get here...

*ALSO: Noe got her hair cut. It's adorable. If you are in my inner circle of trust, head on over to IYGAMAM to see just how cute it is.

Postal Pressures; Internet Ingenuity

My Christmas letter is written. No DVD this year. Last year's was so long, you are probably still watching it. The family picture is printed and tucked along with said letter into an envelope. Your name may even be on one of my envelopes! (I know, I know. Contain yourselves...) I have used my adorable and free St. Jude's Hospital return address labels to identify the red envelops as being from me.

And now what? They sit on my nightstand, holiday cheer not spread too far. What key component am I missing here? The stamps. Yes, the stamps. Call me a Scrooge if you will, but I refuse to go to the post office. Have you seen the lines there? I get out of work around 4:00 every day. We usually have about an hour's worth of errands to run... with three kids in tow. Three kids who have been working hard at school all day and need to go outside and play for a bit. Not three kids who need to behave in line for 40 minutes so I can get my stamps. And for some ungodly reason, the post office removed their stamp vending machine. So there's not getting around it.

Last night, however, the stroke of genius hit me. I ORDERED STAMPS ONLINE!! I know, I know, from what font does she draw her brilliance? Hard to say, really. All I know is that while my husband was confused over my spending money to have stamps mailed to me, I knew that there was no price too high for such a luxury.
So in 3-5 business days, I will have stamps. And you will have your Christmas card. And I will have my nightstand back. Can we see how this is win-win all around? Happy Holidays.

Tunesday: CHRISTMAS!!

My husband has some Grinchy tendencies. While I would begin the Christmas playlist on the day after Thanksgiving, along with decorating the house, he gets a little uptight if I start that early. So we compromised, and started everything this past weekend. Don't you LOVE playing your Christmas music? Everyone has their favorites. I have a lot, but I chose 2 for this post.

What would Christmas be without a little soul infused into it? The Little Drummer Boy and Do You Hear What I Hear are my favorite songs. This version of DYHWIH by Destiny's Child tops the list for me. Sorry the video is non-existent. But listen to the song. Then download it. MP3panda.com gives you downloads for five cents. Can't beat that.


My mom is from the West Indies. She grew up on the tiny island of St. Lucia. Growing up, she had this song... I think on reel-to-reel, and she LOVED it. She would listen to it and do her cute little rhythm of the islands dance. She searched and searched for the ALBUM, and then after a few years, the CD, and finally, when the almighty internet came along, we found it in digital format. Now, it's on YouTube, for crying out loud. It's called "Mary's Boy Child" by a growp known as Boney M. These guys are Jamaican, but came out of Germany. This song topped the holiday charts in 1978. Every time I hear it, I feel happy. It has great memories tied to it, and now my kids know it as well. The video is hilarious. Pay special attention to the lone male's dance moves. Wow. It's a good thing brotha can sing, because he ain't makin money off his groove.

Look What We Found...

My super sleuth husband found this clip. It goes with the post below. Hate it with me, if you will.

In My Free Time...

We had some free time this weekend, and we watched some TV. Specifically, Kung Fu Hustle. It was on television. We LOVE this movie... it's one of the funniest I have ever seen. Skip and I were rolling on the couch while watching it. But that's another story, not fit for the blog...
Anyway. If you haven't seen it, you should. It's got Chinese Jazz Hands, Paige. (And Tiff... I still have vivid memories of you and Jenny doing your own Kung Fu Hustle... ah. good times.)



Anyway. There were several commercials that caught my attention during the movie. The first was this. I loathe and despise it. It doesn't even make sense to me. I could see if it was for breath mints or something, but a cough drop? Who gets turned on by cough drop breath?? Even if it IS fruity? Isn't there an underlying dose of Mentholatum? Not sexy, even for a desperate cougar mom and a nerdy roomate.



But the network redeemed itself by playing this bad boy. I almost jumped up out my seat and started dancing on the coffee table. I mean, HELLOOOO... IT'S BIZ!!! OH, SNAP! If you don't hear this song and have an instant happy memory, then there is something wrong with you. I still know every single word to this song. And I can still do just as crappy a job as Biz in singing it. Speech impediment and all.


There was one other commercial for an obscure cell phone company that showed a claymation Mrs. Claus in bed with Frosty, defending her actions by saying "WHAT? Santa's gone. I have NEEDS, you know." It was confusing and tacky, and I couldn't even find a YouTube clip of it. All I know is that the clear implication of Frosty melting by the fireplace, leaving nothing but his carrot nose, was totally offensive. Thank goodness I still had Biz and The Kung Fu Hustle to redeem the evening.

The Husband's Rebuttal

Otherwise Titled,

Excuse me Mrs. Lincoln, But I am Afraid That I Will Have to Ask You to Remain Seated Until the End of the Play.

Got this email from my husband today, with the subsequent blog post:
Babe! You’re killing me! I must be taking a crazy pill because I don’t remember the dinner going down that way. I mean, sure you described the menu well but I think your memory is a bit fuzzy on how it all came about.

Paige, you are absolutely right. Thanksgiving is all about tradition and I am a stickler for tradition. I think that we as Americans have forgotten what Thanksgiving is all about and that’s FOOTBALL. Now it’s true, my lovely wife did mention to me that since we were not having anyone over for the holiday, she did not feel like making an elaborate dinner; plus the fact that she would be on her feet for over 20 hours preparing dinner did not compute when it would just be me, her, and the kids. So I, being the gracious and loving husband that I am, said “Then don’t cook”. Now this phrase might appear to the non-military mind to be a simple, non-salient phrase. But to the more keen intellect, it was the start of a major coup that would further strengthen my legitimacy as the favorite parent. But before I could start engraving the plaque that was to go over my throne, I had to choose my next words carefully. My entire Kingness hinged on the next words out of my mouth. The words came to me as if Al Bundy himself was sitting next to me on my couch. “Let’s just have Man Food” Three little sets of ears perked up. Man Food?!? Did he say Man Food? And from there, the rest was easy. We woke in the morning and lounged around the house in our pajamas. We sat on our couch with one hand in the waistband of our pants and watched football (even Noe), knowing that there were not going to be any timers going off or pots needing cleaning, only to be dirtied again. We pondered the age old questions of "What exactly are Buffalo wings?" and "Why are they called pizza rolls if they have corners?" Anyway, Andrea can keep the points because I’m much bigger than that (note in her post how she had to keep playing until she scored higher than me) as long as you know that I was the puppet master behind the scene.

I know, ladies. I'm a very lucky woman.