The Day That Disappeared

Every time I decide to abandon routine and be a bit spontaneous, it comes back to bite me. Always. Without fail. Which explains why my entire day yesterday evaporated when I spontaneously decided to go to a friend's house and learn how to make pierogies... By the time I brought the dough and filling home and finished assembling them, it was 5 PM and I realized I had nothing else for dinner; so we ate the pierogies for the first night of Chanukah instead of saving them for Christmas Eve as planned.

I figure I'll make latkes on Christmas Eve, just to complete my poor children's interfaith confusion. Then we'll hang up our stockings, play some Dreidel by the fire, leave jelly doughnuts out for Santa, and go to sleep with visions of Chanukah gelt dancing in our heads. In fact, this approach might be more appropriate than I have heretofore realized, if this news report is at all reliable. (If you're Jewish, click on that - it's funny.)

Susie (aka the preschooler-formerly-known-as-pottytrained) has once again spent her entire day peeing and pooping in her clothes. I swear, she thinks it's a hobby. I asked her why she no longer sits on the potty (because, yes, I am an idiot and think I can get a reasonable answer to that question) and she said, with a shrug, "I just gave up."

Apparently, she's okay with that.

Take Back The Holidays

You wanna know how I'm feeling? Screw Christmas. Screw Chanukah, too. Folks, I've come to realize that the holiday-tradition bar has been set way too high for a mere mortal like myself. Really. Game over. Holidays are supposed to be fun, remember?

I hereby resolve to:

1. Quit the church Christmas pageant. Rachel and Brian no longer want to participate. And I never really wanted to be in charge of Angels (Group 1) anyway. Screw it.

2. Forget the house. It will never be any cleaner than it is now. Screw that, too.

3. Buy a Christmas tree at Home Depot. Unless you're tramping out into the snowy woods and cutting down your own wild tree, it ain't traditional. Don't freeze your butts off at a Christmas tree farm - don't you realize that's where the trees at Home Depot come from? And they're cheaper at the store, too. Duh.

4. Summon all the kids into the (messy) living room, plop them down on the couch without regard to size/age order, and snap a picture. No matching clothes, no neatly combed hair, nothing. Reality photo cards, folks - they're all the rage.

5. Our second annual New Year's Party? Still on. Anyone who doesn't appreciate pre-made guacamole from Trader Joe's and Hebrew National frozen hotdogs in biscuit dough can just stay home. I'll heat up the hotdogs, though. Maybe.

6. Fancy Christmas dinner? Why? We just had turkey and stuffing on Thanksgiving, right? Have it more than once a year and no one will appreciate it. I think we'll just have cookies and candy canes that day, thanks. That's all the kids really want, anyway.


7. My holiday table will most emphatically not look like the picture above. I have nothing against beautiful, holiday-themed quilted table runners with matching Christmas china and (gasp!) napkins all the same color. In fact, I admire people who set their tables this way. But I have come to accept that such a layout is not within my capability to pull off. Ever.



8. Meaningful, appropriate gift-giving is now banned. I'm giving people whatever is convenient. A beer-bottle opener for the 6-year-old? Why not? Apparently, she likes beer. 5 homemade scarves to be divided among 10 people? Hey - half of the recipients probably don't even want a dorky-looking handknit muffler, anyway. I'm thinking this could be a lot of fun. Stay tuned for gift-giving ideas for and from the teen set.




9. Latkes for Chanukah? I'm using the mix, straight from the box. I'd use frozen, but those taste really bad. Chanukah gifts? Cold, hard cash - er, I mean, gelt. Chanukah gelt. And dreidels? They're around here somewhere - Lord knows, I'm always running across one in the silverware drawer or on a bookshelf until the day before Chanukah, when they all magically disappear until January.

10. Hah! Screw it. I can't think of #10, and Theo wants the computer to fill out college applications or some such nonsense. Can't he see I'm blogging?

Fellow holiday slackers, feel free to share your own resolutions in the comments. No Martha Stewart wanna-be's allowed. This site is for Christmas/Chanukah slackers only. Got it? Good.

Hooray, It's Not The Holidays Anymore!

I'm feeding the kids party leftovers all day. They love me. I should do this all the time. Before lunch, we played Christmas Bingo and whoever won got a Christmas cookie. I need to get all the junk food out of the house before the good times come to a crashing halt this Monday with my first official weigh-in. I hate dieting, but I also hate not being able to breathe with my jeans snapped.

I wasn't going to post a New Year's resolution; but last night, while I was having panic attacks over the fact that our computer had frozen up and realizing that I might not be able to access all the articles I've written, ever again (mostly homeschooling crap - not for general consumption), articles that I sometimes manage to sell for genuine legal tender (not much, but enough to buy myself some clothes without feeling as though I am taking food out of my children's mouths)...

Where was I? Oh, yes, last night I made my resolution: back everything up on an external drive. Constantly. Not later. Because "better late than never" does not apply in this situation.

Anyway, Larry wrapped up his nomination for Best Husband of the Year award by staying up late to do a temporary fix on the computer and get all my word docs on one of those flash drive thingies, which I will now keep under my pillow at night (in case of fire). He neglected, however, to tell me he fixed it; and so I discovered his good deed by accident after wandering downstairs in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, my writing career (humor me) flashing before my eyes all the while. Which explains all those middle-of-the-night comments I left on everyone's blogs, okay? I hope they made sense. I was giddy with relief at the time. And I missed you.

The holidays make me sort of sentimental.

And before we give Larry too much credit, let's just say he was making a sensible financial decision by fixing the computer before leaving with the high schoolers on their ski trip today - he knew that if he left me alone for 3 days with a broken computer, well, odds were I'd either call one of those Rent-A-Geek places and pay gazillion bucks to regain access to my world, as it were; or I'd decide to spend those gazillion bucks on a new computer for myself. With just my stuff on it. And I wouldn't share, ever.

We're still having to restart the computer approximately every 5 minutes, because the mouse freezes up. I e-mailed Microsoft for a hotfix and they sent me the link (ooh, don't I sound computer savvy?) and I downloaded a zip file (?) and I unzipped it - rather, the computer says I unzipped it; but maybe the computer is lying, because I can't find all the files I supposedly unzipped. So I'm stuck. Maybe I will just wander by Best Buy today...


Maria has tagged me with a birth month meme, where you take the attributes supposedly associated with your birth month (I'm June) and talk about how they apply to you. Very fortune-cookie-ish, but I like fortune cookies.


Thinks far with vision - I suppose this refers to the fact that I am constantly imagining how I will set up the house when the kids have all flown the nest.

Easily influenced by kindness - Why, yes, I am a sucker...

Polite and soft-spoken - Please. I'm from New Jersey. Get real.

Having ideas - Don't we all? I should hope so.

Sensitive - As in, one unkind comment could ruin my whole day. So, don't. Make fun of Diesel instead.

Hesitating, tends to delay - Hmmm....I don't know....I'll get back to this one later.

Choosy and always wants the best - Anyone who has seen me scarfing up store-brand chocolate chips out of the bag would want to debate this.

Temperamental - I am a woman, after all.

Funny and humorous - But, of course. Goes without saying. Ahem.

Loves to joke - As long as it's about other people (see sensitive, above).

Good debating skills - Don't you hate how anyone with an obnoxious, totally undisciplined, mouthy kid always says their little monster has "great debating skills"? "He'll make a great lawyer!" they proclaim. How about "He'll make a great a**hole!"?

Talkative - That's what my husband thinks, anyway.

Friendly - pathetically so.

Prone to getting colds - Apparently.

Loves to dress up - Yes, just so people will ask me questions that I take unreasonable umbrage at.

Easily bored - Are we done yet?

Fussy - Moi? Just because I can't sleep right if I can't find one of my special pairs of soft wool socks for bed? And the socks have to match, or my feet feel uneven and keep me up? Okay, yes.

Seldom shows emotions - Doesn't my husband wish?

Brand conscious - I don't think so (see choosy, above).

Stubborn - Of course. What? I'm going to let the stupid people with dumb ideas run the show? I don't think so.

Barb, I tag you, of course. You're always funny with these things (putting the pressure on - sorry), and it will take your mind off the move.

And The Croup Goes On...

Anna has the disease we've all been passing around. Anna can be very dramatic when she is ill, clutching her throat, moaning, languishing all over my new, flowery, overstuffed armchair. We should have thought to buy her one of those Ektorp fainting couches while we were at IKEA.

That leaves only Larry and Brian untouched by this plague. We assume Larry will get it while he is chaperoning the homeschoolers' ski trip later this week. At which point he will understand just how much I suffered. Not that I am wishing it on him, or anything.

Meanwhile, as long as he is healthy, Larry has been painting like one possessed. It may be because today I handed out invitations to our 45 neighbors for a little party at our house on New Year's Day. He works well when properly motivated.

Unfortunately, I don't know how to throw a party that doesn't involve birthday candles and goody bags. I'm not quite sure how I am going to pull this off. It was challenging enough to print out the invitations.

This place is trashed, in a Christmas-y sort of way. Gaudy crap everywhere, opened presents strewn all over the floor, broken bits of candy cane wherever you turn....and it doesn't help that half our furniture is displaced by the painting-in-progress. Oh, and the hall closet door that we fixed last month? The kids managed to rip it off its track again. Why bother replacing it? I'll just prop a piece of plywood in front of our incredibly messy closet and paint it white.

You know, if there were a reality show that had families of kids competing to see who could wreck a house fastest, I think we'd have a good chance of making it to the finals.

I hear Anna moaning again. I better go check.

Easy Does It

There's a movement afoot to have people trying to blog every single day in 2008. I'm begging those of you I have on a reader - don't do it. I almost went nuts trying to keep up with everyone's postings in November. The pace was killing me. Just say no to Blog 365. Thank you.

We've all been in the position of our children not taking care of their little critters as they had promised. Check out this article on guinea pig cuisine for ideas on what to do when your kids get tired of their caged animals. The article uses the phrase "alternative food." Is that a euphemism, or what? Doesn't sound quite as harsh as "Hey, kids, we're eating your pets!"

Can you tell that nothing exciting happened in our household today? Essentially, I goofed off all day (though I did get a little knitting done). No one misbehaved. No one did anything cute (though we did have quite a ticklefest with Susie, whose giggling and screeching were exceedingly delightful). Larry and I went out to Chipotle's and split a burrito for dinner. We're big spenders, let me tell you. Then we went to the bookstore so that I could use the gift card he gave me.

That was my whole day. And I liked it. No preparing for guests, no shopping for presents. Whew. Christmas took its toll this year. I guess I am still in recovery mode. That should only take until, say, next September. And I am busy trying to eat all the chocolate Larry gave me. I need to polish it off before I head back to Weight Watcher's on the 6th. It may be fun this time, though, as there is some sort of weight loss ticker I can post on the blog. Nothing like showing the world how little self-control I possess.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get back to that chocolate.

Are We Done Yet?

Yesterday we had our annual gingerbread house party, otherwise known as the "Sugar Extravaganza." By mid-afternoon, I could no longer see straight and was thinking of calling some EMT's to bring me a dose of insulin. The kids, of course, were fine. They had a blast creating all sorts of graham cracker structures and plastering them with Skittles and gumdrops and marshmallows and....now the headache is coming back. Oy.

I was preparing to take snapshots of the finished houses when I realized I needed to take a closer look. You see, I could tell that David had added a little "garage" onto his edifice, but what was that mess in the driveway? A dramatic scene unveiled itself: a graham cracker car with a green gummy bear caught halfway underneath it and (get this) a yellow gummy bear (apparently the driver) standing next to the victim, looking as puzzled as a gelatinous piece of candy can look.

It's always the quiet kids you have to watch, you know?

I've been married to Larry for 17 years now. And I have been Christmas shopping all month. So it is a tad surprising that I found myself at a quarter to closing time in an upscale supermarket on Christmas Eve, searching frantically for a couple of Christmas presents for my husband. He is now the proud owner of a Christmas mug (4 for 3 dollars!) and a rechargeable flashlight that you have to crank. Lord knows what I would get for someone I didn't know.

A pack of batteries, maybe; those are useful.

At least Larry doesn't feel any pressure, gift-giving-wise. It would be hard for him not to top a 75-cent mug. And I did almost buy him one of those digital keychains that shows off pictures of your kids; but I didn't think he wanted the stress of figuring out how to make it work, as it involved USB cables.

Am I the only one who is glad that Christmas is almost over? We had 2 families over today for dinner, and we're exhausted. Theo has the bronchitis/cold/whatever now, so I was down one major helper in the kitchen. I still feel like hell. I hope we didn't infect all our guests. Merry Christmas! Have some Kleenex! Ricola cough drops, anyone?

Santa left little stuffed puppies for Rachel and Susie, and some rubber-band-propelled airplanes for David and Brian. Also some oranges and candy canes. And glitter glue pens. Santa is a real cheapskate around our house. But price doesn't matter, because these items were from the North Pole and were therefore very special. Now if I could just convince Larry that his mug came from the North Pole also, I'd have it made.

The children's Aunt Mary sent a Christmas card that sings "Deck the Halls" whenever you open it. Which is quite frequently, if there are little kids in the house. As in, I'm beginning to hate that song.

We meant to watch It's a Wonderful Life today, but we ran out of time. So that (and nothing else) is on the agenda for tomorrow. I can't wait.

Surrender

I've officially given up. Nothing else is going to get done before Christmas. Nothing. Tomorrow we have to make our gingerbread houses (nothing difficult, we "glue" graham crackers to little orange juice cartons and then cover them with candy), so that will take up most of the day. Tomorrow night I will stay up late and rearrange the den. That's it. I had planned a lot more, but when you have to keep lying down and taking naps, things just don't go as planned.

Next year, though....that's different.

Someday I may be over this bronchitis. Someday I may be able get through the night without being jerked out of a sound sleep by a silly coughing fit. Someday I may be able to do three things in a row without lying down in between. But not now.

We watched A Charlie Brown Christmas tonight. I am happy to report that Charlie Brown remains a neurotic loser, Lucy is still a bossy know-it-all, and Snoopy's antics can yet make little kids laugh. It's nice to know that in this unpredictable world of terrorist attacks and melting icebergs, some things can be counted on to remain the same.

Larry's sealing our kitchen-floor grout as I type. And drinking beer. As long as he doesn't spill it on the grout, I don't care. It's not very exciting to watch, though, so I think I'll go to bed.

Status Report Updates

News Flash: Larry returned the chair to IKEA this evening. I convinced him that he deserves a better recliner than the one we foolishly brought home. Those of you readers who are hitched know that this whole episode has cost me an untold number of marriage points. Fun note: the woman at the returns desk wanted to charge him 20 percent because the item wasn't in the packaging. He pointed out that the receipt says only to return item with original packaging and then dumped a pile of mangled cardboard and plastic wrap on her desk. A supervisor got involved. Larry won. Life is sweet.

Mice Caught: Zero. And they're well-fed.

Health Report: Poor. I was up with my own croup in the middle of the night. Now I am coughing like a TB patient. In fact, Larry may be bargaining on my imminent demise and simply hiding the chair in the back of his car until such time as he can bring it back in here unimpeded.

Friendships: Shaky. One friend tried to steal my daughter's babysitting services for tomorrow night, the night that Larry and I have been invited out to our first grown-up party in years. And don't tell me she doesn't mean anything sneaky, because she knows she's invited to the same party as us. Another friend is mad that I won't speak to her on the phone due to my painfully swollen vocal cords (although I can do a great Lauren Bacall imitation right now). Apparently, she has something really interesting to share; nevertheless, she refuses to e-mail me. She's retro that way.

On the up side, a third friend gave me some Christmas fudge today. It was delicious. That's right, it's all gone. Considering that I have to return to Weight Watcher's in less than 2 weeks, there's no point in saving it, now is there?

Rachel Mischief Status: Moderate. Larry took the younger 4 kids to a small aviation museum yesterday, where there was some sort of flight simulator that they could try. Rachel was the only one who managed to "fly" the plane, beating out both her older brothers and her father. We are once again making sure to hide our car keys.

Guest Readiness: Near zero. Nothing that a coat of paint in the living room, curtains (same room), a nice piece of art over the couch, and some glassware that actually matches couldn't solve, though. Larry has his work cut out for him. Imagine - if he were single, he'd be idling away his weekend skiing or some such nonsense. Good thing he has a wife to keep him busy.

Interior Decorating Progress: 2 steps forward, one step back. I now have 2 chairs that I like in the den (oh, beloved flowered Ektorp, how I've yearned for thee!), but I need to spend tomorrow moving them to all possible corners to see where they look best. Because I have nothing better to do. Frankly, I'm just so excited to finally have a den, that I cannot help obsessing like this. Larry does not understand.

Good-night, fellow bloggers! Be good, for goodness sake!

Of Mice and Men

All over the blogosphere people are discovering that we've gotten away from the true meaning of Christmas by going hog wild on buying presents. Try not to be too shocked.

I'm sounding a tad cranky, aren't I? You know why? That chair is still here. I went to the trouble last night of moving a different chair from the living room into the den, a chair that coordinates beautifully with my new flowery bower of an armchair; and I put the ugly navy thing into the center of the room, in order to emphasize the fact that there really is no place for it in our home. So I come back from Knit Night tonight to find Larry sitting in it, in the middle of the room. Happy. Apparently, subtlety is lost on him.

Plus, I officially have bronchitis. And the house is a mess. And I have people coming over for Christmas dinner.

No mouse poop in my silverware drawers this morning, though. That's a good sign, isn't it? Although now I'm wondering whether I'm suffering from a hanta virus due to ingesting traces of rodent feces from my eating utensils.

And am I obligated to disclose the mouse problem to prospective dinner guests? Doing that would certainly give us a nice, quiet Christmas, now wouldn't it? Or it would at least give me a good excuse to have us eating off of conveniently disposable (and sanitary) paper and plastic. That may just be the silver lining to this rodent infestation.

Coughing in a Winter Wonderland....

Well, I solved the grout problem - I went out and bought plastic shower curtain liners and spread them all over the eating area and some throw rugs and threw them (that's what you're supposed to do, right?) over the work area; so now I can stop carping at my kids about their food-dropping habits. And the shower curtain liners are transparent, so you can still see the pretty new tile. Maybe I'll use the liners even after the grout is sealed, and just throw them out and replace them when they get dirty - I've always wanted a disposable kitchen floor.

Let's see....health update....Susie all better, Rachel better except that she starts coughing and cannot stop, and now Brian is coming down with whatever lovely virus this is that we've been passing around. Good Lord, I'm tired. The problem with head colds is that you need to sleep to get better, but you can't breathe if you lie down. I really like to breathe. So I sit up and surf the blogosphere, or I try to learn Spanish with the free Rosetta Stone program from the local library. I can now say, "The man has blue hair" in Spanish - pretty good, huh? Of course, I'm not sure how useful that sentence would be if I were lost, say, in Colombia. Maybe it would be better if I said, "The horse is jumping!"

Maybe not.

Perhaps my time would be better spent figuring out how to get Theo's MP3 player to work. Frankly, it's hard to believe that this little red plastic doo-hickey that is the length of my thumb and only twice as wide is truly a "skip-free MP3/WMA player, FM radio with 32 preset stations, voice recorder, stopwatch, clock." It looks like something my kids would get out of a gumball machine (if I let them have the quarter) (which I don't). I think I've been had.

Anna is pitching a fit as I type. Don't ask.

We are full-swing into the sugar-overdose segment of the holidays. Let's see - there was the church Christmas party last Friday, and the boys' CCD classes had a party this evening (because that is just what kids need on a school night at 8 PM - lots of candy and cookies), and tomorrow is our annual gingerbread house decorating extravaganza. It's embarrassing how much money I spend on the candy for that. But the kids need the Twizzlers so they can cut them into realistic-looking shingles for the roofs, and they need the gumdrops and skittles to decorate the walls; and of course the mini-marshmallows are required to build "snowmen" in the "yards"; and then there are the gummi bears which have no apparent purpose, but I bought them one year and now they are tradition. And don't forget the 6 pounds of confectioner's sugar to make the "glue" and the fake snow.

It makes Halloween look like a nutritionists' convention.

Well, to sleep, perchance to dream, before someone wakes up coughing.

O Tannenbaum

He's done! The Tile Guy is done! Everything except sealing the grout, that is. "I'll come back in 2 weeks and seal it for you, so it doesn't get stained," he said. Can you tell this guy doesn't have kids? What we need is pre-sealed grout. I give this stuff about 5 minutes before someone spills half a quart of grape juice on it. Larry convinced him to come back in a few days instead; but why bother? It will still be too late. For now it looks gorgeous, though; I need to remember to take some pictures before those little monsters ruin it.

Still sick here. I made it to Anna's flute choir concert anyway (I call it preemptive attendance - she could have cared less whether or not I showed up, but I don't need her throwing my absence in my face 10 years from now, thanks), which was bearable. I am missing the Mom gene that makes it possible for me to go gaga over these concerts - her friend's mom was gushing, "Weren't they wonderful?!" while I was thanking the good Lord that I had brought my knitting to keep me busy.

Granted, I have the head cold from hell, which makes me a tad grouchy anyway. As in, I almost took Larry's head off later for I-don't-know-what (and in front of the kids - not my finest moment). Then I went upstairs and slammed doors and sulked a bit while I put away laundry. (See? Even when I'm sulking, I'm doing the damn housework.) I thought about how single parents have it easy, because they don't have to get along with anyone, and how I am going to be old and grey before these kids are old enough for me to run away from home without feeling guilty about it. And I thought about how much I hate having teenagers in the house, because they make me feel short and old and naggy. And I wondered why everyone else is enjoying living with their teens (or so it seems, from the blogs I read) while I am hating every minute of the experience.

And then I went down and apologized. And I actually meant it. But I think Larry is still pissed off.

Yesterday we decorated our tree. Let me explain here that I am proud of the fact that I have always let my kids decorate it how they like (well, I insist on white lights - no colored lights for me). It always ends up being somewhat of a mess, with homemade ornaments that we've saved through the years that the kids are proud of, and ornaments that Larry has brought home from his travels that he and I like, and big, unbreakable (!) shiny balls from IKEA. I've always felt good that the kids were happy and that the tree looked beautiful to them, even though it looks like some weird sort of rummage sale to anyone else. Okay? So, this year, Anna says, "I wish we could have a tree that has the lights, and the balls, and some tinsel, and that's it." She said it nicely; but, with that one sentence, she uncovered that yearning for a tidy Christmas tree that I had repressed all these years. And ruined my day.

I sound crazy, but this time of year does that to people. And the head cold - I did mention the head cold, didn't I? And I was up again last night with a barking child? And my kitchen appliances are in my living room? So cut me some slack, okay?

I need to try to sleep. I need all my energy tomorrow to go searching for some real Sudafed, not that PE crap that doesn't work.

Sick, Sick, Sick

I'm baaaack! Can't get rid of me that easily, you know. I seem to have picked up whatever bug my kids have (without the sore throat, fortunately). I refused to come downstairs this morning and left Larry to deal with everything - the hungry kids, the tile guy, the toddler who pooped for the first time in 3 days (sorry, no pictures). Larry solved the hungry-kid dilemma handily, by letting them eat the candy canes they got from Santa last night. Way to go for a healthy breakfast!

Yes, we saw Santa himself yesterday evening. Our church had its annual Christmas pageant and party, and Anna plays in the ensemble, so we all went, even though half of us were sick and looked pathetic. Of course, if I had been a really good mother, I would have remembered to sign up the little kids to be angels and shepherds; but I guess that will have to wait until next year. The little disease-vectors would have coughed through the whole thing, anyway.

I dragged everyone to the library yesterday - I needed to return our way-overdue books before they put out a warrant for my arrest. I did my best to ensure a local croup epidemic by letting the little girls cough and sneeze all over the kids' section of the library. Then, because the tile guy was here (amazing, but true!), we headed out to Pizza Hut for lunch; they coughed and sneezed all over that place, too. I'm nothing if not thorough.

I fell apart sometime mid-afternoon, but pulled myself together enough to dress everyone for the party. I was hoping to be able to stay home with a sick child or two, but they all insisted on going. So I went, too, and had a pretty good time, while the kids scarfed down quantities of cookies and cake. You know, good nutrition doesn't seem to be job one around here lately.

Tile Guy is still here, working on the kitchen. Tomorrow, too. Which presents a problem in terms of food preparation and consumption. I guess we'll just have to get some more candy canes.

And I'm feeling like crap again - I'm going back to bed.

Sick and Tired

So, I missed posting yesterday. Sue me. Susie developed croup yesterday evening and blew all my finely laid plans to heck. Now I'm sitting here after a lousy night's sleep with a non-functioning brain, wondering how to pick up the pieces. Of my day, that is, not my brain - the brain's a total loss.

Let's see - it might help if I'd get dressed. And there was the Christmas party for our home school group that I am supposed to bring some food to. And I was supposed to bake cranberry bread for my husband's office party (you know, the party that spouses aren't invited to, but we are free to contribute baked goods and other yummy comestibles) (the hell with them).....

I could just blow everything off and lie on the couch all day (my favorite option), but Brian and Rachel are supposed to be in some little skit about St. Francis at the party (the home school party, not the office one). I think. The skit wasn't my idea. One of the other, more ambitious, moms dreamed it up. I'm hating her right now. If it weren't for the stupid skit, I could blow the whole thing off.

I hope I don't catch whatever Susie has. I am not a patient sufferer. I tend to languish - loudly. As in whine and complain. While the house falls apart around my ears. I can't wait until I am older (and, more to the point, the kids are older) and I can be sick for a day without utter chaos taking over my life. I'll be able to sit in an armchair by the fire, sipping hot tea and catching up on my reading (I mean, People comes out every single week, I can't keep up), rather than trying to referee sibling disagreements from the couch in the trashed living room and praying that no one shows up at our front door to witness just how bad our home life can become.

Speaking of which, I'd really better shower and dress. I'm just asking for trouble sitting at the computer in my pajamas at 8 in the morning. Then, I'll go back to bed. If you make your bed first, it doesn't count as being lazy, right?

Everyone Else Has One (Tag Cloud, That Is)

I'm trying to figure out that neat Technorati tag cloud thing that all the other kids are getting on their blogs, but it isn't working...yet. Ignore any weirdness in the left-hand column until I figure it out. Except the humor-blogs.com weirdness, of course. That's permanent.

I'm sure all 10 of my faithful readers remember my crowing with triumph over ordering my Christmas photo cards way back in November. As soon as the cards arrived, I efficiently addressed the envelopes and then put them aside (readers, please note - don't try this at home) until I could get around to buying Christmas-y stamps. I'll be lucky if those darn cards ever turn up again. But the stamps I got are nice. I guess I could just use them next year, if the postal rates don't rise again.

Larry and I attempted to sneak away for a date this evening, but Susie woke up and screamed until we agreed to come back. I hate cellphones.

And is any evening complete without a child coming up to me (after bedtime) and saying his stomach hurts? It was Brian's turn tonight, so I gave him a dishpan and sent him back to bed. At least he's in the bottom bunk this week.

They just do this to me to keep me on edge, I know it.

How do you know when blogging is taking over your life? That's easy - it's when you start calling the kids by their blog pseudonyms instead of their true names. Not that I've ever done that....

Betty Crocker 911

I dedicated today to baking all the goodies we need to send in our Christmas care packages to Larry's relatives. What? Where are all the goodies we baked last week? Oh, yeah, those....well, we weren't quite prepared last week...by the time we procured all the cute little tins and boxes to pack the sweets in, well.....they were all gone, okay? The lemon bars, the peanut butter cookies, most of the fudge was no more. I am one person who takes my holiday weight gain quotas seriously.

So this time I planned it right. Boxes at the ready, I decided to just whip right through all the baking in one day and get those babies out of here. By the time I was done, I was seeing double from sugar overload. I'm not trying a baking marathon like that again without a medic standing by to administer insulin as needed. And a pox on outdated cookbooks. The lemon bars recipe called for "granulated sugar," as in what everyone else in this day and age calls just "sugar." As in, not confectioner's sugar, which really didn't work well at all.

The fudge did its part by refusing to set properly. As I couldn't cut it into discrete squares, I settled for packing it in one big lump per recipient. I nestled the lumps in white tissue to give them a more festive look, but....honestly? They resemble nothing so much as wads of poop wrapped in toilet paper (in decorative tins). Theo suggested that instead we put each lump in one of those plastic pooper-scooper bags (provided free at the local dog park) and tie the bags with ribbon. You know, to make a good gag gift. Get it? Gag? We laughed ourselves silly. (Hey, even Anna smiled at that one.)

I am sick of sweets, but I still have to bake the #%$&* (sp?) cranberry bread for the party tomorrow night. And mail off those wads of poop, I mean fudge. Before someone around here eats them. Yum.

Shovel This, Kids!

Epiphany of the day - when you get too old for the holidays to be magical, it's time to make them magical for someone else. My teens were unimpressed with this news, but I can't wait to make them put this thought into action (more on that another time). And tonight I forced them off their bored butts to shovel all the common-area sidewalks in our townhouse neighborhood. (It had snowed a few inches today, and it was all starting to ice over.) That was fun. I hope it snows a lot here this winter. Community service is good for the teenage soul.

I swear they are sucking all the enjoyment out of my life. Like dementors. I need to fight back. Must...not...lose...strength....

I'm sitting up with David tonight, who is barking like a seal. I explained to him that 10-year-olds don't get croup, but he didn't listen. Stubborn, that kid.

Larry went to bed early this evening, because I was ranting and raving about our two eldest and he didn't know what to do (this was before I threw them out into the snow). I bet he goes to work at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Larry is the kind of person who is not afraid to avoid problems head-on.

It's been a rough day - one of those days when I feel like a hamster on one of those Habitrail wheels, running, running, running, and getting absolutely nowhere. It doesn't help that when I say, "Whew! I'm glad this day is over!", Larry feels the need to comment (faux cheerfully), "Yup - another day closer to death!" I ask you, is that helpful? I don't think so.

But it did snow, which is amazing around here in early December. And we had hot cocoa and played outside and Susie managed not to knock any of her teeth out when she fell headfirst out the door onto the front stoop. So today wasn't all bad. And now it's over and everyone's in bed, thank goodness.

I know - another day closer....

Cookies and Dreidels and Chores, Oh My!

We made fudge today. Peanut butter-chocolate chip cookies yesterday. Lemon bars tomorrow. Maybe we'll throw some steaming cups of cocoa in there for good measure. I'm glad I was smart enough to put off returning to Weight Watchers until January. I don't care how much I have to starve myself for 10 months a year, as long as I can have my holiday goodies.

Because it's holiday time - time for the children to fight over which color candles to put in the menorah, which wooden tree ornament to decorate with markers and glitter glue, which bowl they get to lick. Next week, they'll fight over who wraps which present. Yes, indeed, it's a magical time of the year - magical in that, somehow, I manage not to kill them. Now they're throwing dreidels at each other and screaming. I don't know why. And I don't care.

Larry (with great trepidation) informed me that the tile guy (for the kitchen floor, remember?) isn't showing up this Sunday, after all; but he will definitely be here the 14th. Yeah, I believe that one. I think I have more of a chance of Santa actually showing up here than that guy.

Hey, do you think Santa does floors? Or maybe one of his elves? That would be so cool, wouldn't it? I believe in you, Santa, I believe! I'm not like that cold-hearted chick in Miracle on 34th Street. And, hey, we left you some very nice beer last year, to wash down those cookies with. Yeah, the John Adams Christmas Ale....nice stuff, wasn't it? Well, there's more where that came from, if you know what I mean (wink, wink). And I've been a really good girl all year. Though, if you prefer naughty, I can do that too....

I can't believe I typed that. Coal in my stocking this year, for sure....

Larry is out this evening with David at Cub Scouts. David doesn't like Cub Scouts, but he looks cute in the shirt. That's good enough for me. So, anyway, I get to put everyone to bed tonight and do all the dishes and as soon as I'm done goofing off here I'm going to clean the stove. Yup, just another exciting Tuesday evening here in our household. And Anna is mad at me because I just told her that I'm not going to Target this evening. If she had done those dishes for me, I might have considered taking her, you know. Maybe I should offer to let her scrub the stovetop. I bet she'd like that.

My Brain Is Empty

Today I got more visitors to this site than I ever have before. Which means, I'm more popular when I don't post....I think. Oh, well.

Nothing of note happened today. Anna was pleasant (well, that is somewhat remarkable, now isn't it?), Theo made latkes, Rachel fell asleep before dinner, Susie wet my bed (as usual) because I forgot to put her diaper on her (as usual), and David had fun flying a kite he made out of fishing line and a plastic grocery bag (it was a tad windy here today). He looked rather pathetic, like a poster child for a Toys for Tots campaign.

I'm starting on my annual schizo December breakdown - what with Chanukah, St. Nicholas Day, Chanukah, Christmas pageants and parties, flute recitals, Chanukah (some holidays overstay their welcome), Christmas tree decorating, and gingerbread house construction, I turn into a snarling, Grinch-type creature by the morning of the 25th. It ain't pretty. When did the holidays turn into an endurance test, anyway?

No funnies here tonight, folks. Too tired. Go on over to humor-blogs.com for some laughs instead. Tell 'em I sent ya.

'Tis The Season

Bia over at La Dolce Vita has tagged me with a meme, and I'm actually in the mood to play along. Maybe because it's easy. Plus, Anna has been working on an essay for A Christmas Carol for her ninth-grade English course; so the meme theme (hey! did I coin that phrase?) fits right into the Christmas Past, Present, and Future motif. Bia would like me to name 3 favorite gifts - my favorite one from Christmas past (as a child), one I enjoyed receiving now as an adult, and one I would like to receive in the future. No problem!

Christmas Past - I grew up Jewish, but I always went to my friend's house for Christmas Day when I was little. I'm sure I received many lovely, thoughtful, even price-y presents from my friend's parents throughout the years; but the one present I remember, the present that my friend and I jumped up and down in ecstasy over, was a little cardboard box full to the brim with Bazooka bubble gum. And it had a little handle to carry it around with. That's all it takes to make a child happy, folks. Sugar. Portable sugar.


Christmas Present - I always get chocolate with almonds. Always. Because, despite living with me for 17 years now, my husband has no idea what else to tell the kids to get me. When I mention this to him, he mutters, "Well, you don't like jewelry," as if that exhausts the list of gift alternatives to chocolate.

One year, my oldest, in a burst of gift-giving creativity, gave me a little doo-hickey that blows dust off my keyboard. So maybe chocolate isn't such a bad idea, after all.


Christmas Future - A baby. Yup, I love babies. Nothing better than a Christmas baby. I'm crazy.

And I'm dying to see what Barb and Sue and MadMad have to share on this topic.

Happiness Is Not A Warm Teenager

I would like to draw everyone's attention to this article in the New York Times, which discusses happiness levels in the general US population. My favorite line therein is "People who live with teenagers are the unhappiest of all."

Thank you. I'd suspected as much, but it feels good to have some official statistics to back me up. Now excuse me while I go take another Valium.

I've sorted out all the Christmas presents I scooped up at Michael's, just to make sure I hadn't made a mistake; but, no, I had just the right number for each kid. I thought I was spending an average of 15 dollars on each kid, but it looks to be closer to 25 dollars a person when all is said and done. Which is way too high, but the hell with it. Call me a spendthrift.

Larry is offering to take me out tonight, which is nice considering I've been spending all his money. Meaning, I had to take Anna to Kohl's again today. She was fairly exuding tolerance, but you could tell she was thinking, "If only I could drive myself, I could dump this stupid old lady."

Of course, if I could manage to get a real job that pays real money, we could afford to hire someone else to do all the stuff I've been doing around here for free, like chauffering a teenage girl with a lousy attitude to the clothing stores. Then again, with a real job, I might have to deal with super-annoying people all day who aren't even related to me, and that might put me over the edge. So I'll stick with being a kept woman for now, thanks.

My boss wants the computer. And I need to go to bed in order to get up on time to go for the walk my fiendish neighbor insists on dragging me on. And I'm too tired to fix that last sentence. Good night!