Santa, Part Deux

Here's the funny thing about my mom: every year she swears in a cross-your-heart-hope-to-die kind of way that This Year will be "lean" in the gift department. Lean for a combination of reasons: she's low on the benjamins and she doesn't want to rely too much on credit; Christmas is too commercialized anyway; we don't want the kids to be spoiled and think that this holiday is all about gifts; other members of the family are low on the benjamins so we don't want them to feel bad if they can't give extravagant gifts, etc . . .
All of these are good and valid reasons, and every year, in our annual Let's Figure Out When We Will Have The Family Christmas phone call, I find myself shaking my head vigorously and saying "Yes Mom. Absolutely. I agree 100%. Do not get the kids Too Much, because they have more than enough. Right on, woman, fight the power."
So I carefully choose simple, but meaningful, gifts for my parents, 2 brothers, and sister. And I know that at some point in the season, my father and siblings are doing the same thing for me and my crew.
But we also know this: my mother is spending her precious, non-work time in a buying frenzy the likes of which we only see once a year. She is a frugal person, a person who will reuse aluminum foil, but at Christmas she cashes in all her frugality points for Presents. With a capital P. She plunks down cash, credit, or wampum faster than a gambler at a one-arm bandit; you can practically smell the plastic burning. Then, while she's wrapping the massive pile, she starts to think that maybe she bought too much. But it's too late now, the die is cast, the wrapping has commenced, we will be Gifted.
That's not to say that I am complaining about the coffee maker she bought us -- the coffee maker that rocks my world. This thing has a self-cleaning button, people. Self-cleaning! I love anything that self-cleans. And it makes a darn fine cup o' joe, as well. Sah-Weet! But all the other stuff that came with ole Joe? Yeah, that stuff was not part of the deal. Just gravy.
But I know she liked what we gave her, and she really does get the most joy out of watching other people open their gifts, not out of opening her own. She even calls the next day and asks if everyone has "settled down" enough to actually see what they opened. When we're happy, she is happy. So thanks, Mom, we are happy. Really, really happy. And totally ( cleanly) caffeinated.

And We're Back . . .

I am slowly, ever so slowly, crawling back to the normalcy and solidity of routine. I am clawing my way out of a cookie-induced fog, and trying to navigate the house's once familiar terrain, which has become littered with tiny, foot-puncturing pieces of plastic new toys, bits of tape and wrapping paper. We have acquired another hulking piece of molded plastic a new Exersaucer for Baby Girl, which she loves; more pony paraphernalia to feed Older Girl's latest obsession; and enough Thomas the Tank track to get us halfway to China. In my effort to not lose my mind take stock of the situation and try to figure out where I am going to cram all this stuff an orderly plan for accommodating all of this shiny excess, I have of course retreated to the safety and serenity of the blog.
So I am starting my rearranging here, as you can see by the new template. I just felt like the time was right for a new look, and that is why I am also putting a ticker up to track my post- Baby Girl weight loss. I have gotten seriously off track. I can't even see the track anymore. I'm not much for New Year's Resolutions, even though I am usually a fairly self-motivated person, but I have to admit that the turning of the Year makes me want to buckle down and change some things. And even though I am tempted to (re) start my diet and exercise plan after January 1st, I know that I have to do it now.
Wish me luck. I'm gonna need it.

PS: I know it didn't come across in this post, but we had a wonderful Christmas together. Just the five of us, stuffing our pie-holes with French Toast and Christmas cookies, lounging in pajamas, taking naps, playing with toys, and watching old movies late into the night. Can't beat that with a stick.

God Bless Us, Every One . . . .

Merry Christmas from the Langan Home!

When the angels went away from them to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us." So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in a manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart.
Luke 2:15-19

Thursday Thirteen # 7

From the "Better Late than Never" File:

Thirteen Random Things about MY DAD, because he said I never blog about him (be careful what you wish for, Dad!) 1. He's an awesome baker. He's also diabetic, so he doesn't eat anything he bakes, he just does it as an act of love for the lucky recipient (thanks for the sticky buns, Dad!) 2. He likes to watch Univision, the Spanish TV channel, even though he doesn't speak any Spanish. He likes to guess what they are talking about -- kind of like Spanish charades. 3. He is was a confirmed cat-hater who now is a "dad" to two cats, because he cannot stand to see anyone, man or beast, neglected or abandoned. 4. He doesn't give unsolicited advice, and none of his advice has ever steered me wrong. 5. He likes to draw mustaches and beards on all the celebrities in newspapers or magazines. And sometimes he draws cartoon bubbles above their heads with inappropriate comments. 6. He is the ultimate do-it-yourselfer. I have a long-held belief that he can fix just about anything, and I'll always call him first if something goes awry in the house. I can count on one hand the number of times he has told me to call a professional, and he has saved Rob and me mucho dinero. 7. He loves him some crossword puzzles . . . woe to the person who fills it in before he gets to it. And he does it in pen, so there. 8. I inherited my fascination with pop-culture from him. He knew about Britney and K-Fed before I did (I'm not sure if he would want me to brag about that, but there it is!) 9. He converted to Catholicism, and he has a devotion that I deeply admire. 10. He had a mustache for most of my life. He shaved it off a few years ago, but when I picture my Dad in my mind's eye, he always has a mustache. 11. He once cut the tip of his ring finger off with a table saw. It was too small to reattach, so now he just has a stubby finger. I think he's secretly proud of it. 12. He loves to tease, and if he teases you, it means he likes you. He used to torment me when I was young by calling my school Jeffersonville Night School, instead of Jeffersonville Day School. Stupid, but I still laugh about that now. 13. He once said: "Before you speak, ask yourself three things: 1) Is it kind? 2) Is it necessary? 3) Is it true?" I don't know if I've ever heard better criteria. Love You, Dad!! Links to other Thursday Thirteens! 1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!)

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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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They Say It's Your Birthday

A big birthday shout out to dear Christina, Rob's youngest sister and half of Saturday's babysitting duo extraordinaire. You know we love you, but we'll say it anyway :0)

Happy Birthday!!

Celebrate Good Times, Come On!

I think I have finally recovered from the wedding weekend, but the exhaustion was worth it! We had a great time, and we owe a huge THANKYOUSOMUCH to my sister-in-law and brother-in-law, Christina and Tony, who came down from NY to watch the kids. I know it was a long day for them, but they still met us with a smile when we dragged ourselves in at midnight. (Midnight! The last time I was up at midnight I was feeding a baby or helping someone on the toilet, definitely not as much fun as drinking champagne and dancing with Rob.) We have deposited a big, fat IOU into their Future Favors Savings Account, payable at any time.

The wedding itself was truly beautiful. My cousin Carrie looked like a princess, like someone out of a movie. My aunt made Carrie's wedding dress, because, you know, she had so much free time being the mother of the bride, helping to plan the wedding, and working full time. But Holy Project Runway, Batman -- what a dress! The pictures in the slide show don't do it justice. It was an ivory silk sheath covered with a delicate lace over-skirt, which was detachable for the reception. Carrie's hair was pulled back and studded with little pearl pins, and her bouquet was made of clusters of dark red roses. Oh wait, did I forget to mention that my aunt also made all of the bridesmaids dresses and her own dress for the wedding? And that the bridesmaids dresses, while all the same burgundy color, were a different design for each woman? And that the last time my aunt slept was October? Wowie, wow, wow, those dresses were amazing!

The reception was so much fun; the food was delicious, the champagne was flowing, the music was good, and I got to see so many people that I haven't seen in years. My cousins came out from Ohio, and all my aunts and uncles were there, as well. Good times.

But the best part was being there with Rob. I love going to weddings with him, because it makes us feel like we are renewing our own vows to each other. We seem to fall in love all over again, we siphon some of the new-ness and excitement for ourselves, we remind ourselves just what we see in each other, which is something that can get lost when you live with someone day in and day out. I think it's one of the best dates a couple can have, and at this time of year it was magical. (Did I mention that we owe Christina and Tony some serious paybacks?)

Tag, You're It!

Hot Diggity Dog, I been tagged for reals! I must do this meme now, because this is the first one where I have been singled out by name -- you know, instead of just stumbling upon a meme that I like while I'm blurking (blog+lurking="blurking") and doing it all by my lonesome over here. So thank you, Carrie -- and away we go!

1.Explain what ended your last relationship. Common sense (and then subsequently, The Huz.) I've been with Rob since freshman year at college, so we're going way back, but I would have to say that there was more feeling on my end of this previous relationship. Way more. Like stalker more. Ask my college friends about the "shrine." Once I realized he was really not into reciprocation, I gave up the ship and then along came Rob. Sweet!

2.When was the last time you shaved? Saturday morning, while getting ready for my cousin's wedding. (a post and pix are coming . . .)

3.What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.? waiting for my coffee to finish brewing and wondering if I had anything clean to wear to church.

4.What were you doing 15 minutes ago? catching up on my all my blog friends

5.Are you any good at math? well, define "good." I can keep the checkbook balanced, and I can do percentages in my head (mostly to figure out stuff that's on sale), and I did get an "A" on an 8th grade math blog quiz -- but don't try me on fractions.

6.Your prom night? Was kind of pathetic, but I'm still glad I went. I was asked at pretty much the last minute by a guy in my law class, but my parents (who I think may have been started to catch on that I was so dorky that I was voted "Most Likely to Stay Home Knitting during The Prom) really went all out to make it a nice time. Of course, I had nothing in common with the guy, so we hardly talked during the whole prom and we didn't dance once because he didn't like dancing. He just sat at a different table with his friends, talking about how he was going to put the moves on me, while I watched everyone else slow dancing. After the prom we went to an all-night after prom party at a fitness club, but I was so tired and it just wasn't my scene. I didn't see my date the whole night until it was time to go home in the morning, where my parents had made this huge breakfast for me and my friend and our dates. And after breakfast, my date drove home and he never really talked with me again. I think he was mad that he wasted all that money and I didn't respond to "the moves."

7.Have you had to take a loan out for school? Doesn't everyone? Mine are actually paid off (hallelujah!) Now we only have the financial millstones that are Rob's school loans.

8.Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile? I'm too old for myspace, aren't I?

9.Last thing received in the mail. Christmas cards, catalogs, bills. I only opened the cards!

10.How many different beverages have you had today? let's see . . . coffee, diet soda, gatorade, water, V8 splash, and a hot chai tea.

11.Do you ever leave messages on people’s answering machine? yes, and I always rehearse what I'm going to say before I call in case I get the machine. I hate to leave those rambling, weird messages that sound like I might have had a beer or two before I called because I alternate between talking really quickly and then stumbling over my words because I forgot why I called in the first place. And the worst is when I talk so long that the machine cuts me off and I have to call back to finish the message . . .

12.Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to? Genesis, Invisible Touch Tour, with my parents, no less. Am I the coolest of the cool? You know you want to roll with me . . .

13.Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach? no, but I do help my kids draw their names, and I usually will draw "A+R" inside a heart at least once. See "coolest of the cool" above . . .

14.What was the most painful dental procedure you have had? Ugh, dental procedures. So many, so little time to type . . . I guess the most painful would be the wisdom teeth extraction, but at least I was totally sedated. The recovery wasn't pleasant, but at least it's over -- and I didn't have to have my wisdom teeth sawed through and then removed while still awake, like Rob did. He got Novocaine, but he was completely aware and he could smell the saw going through the teeth. Blech!

15.What is out your back door? our backyard, and the Ravine of Peril that drops down to Fells Creek which runs behind the house. We own the property all the way down to the water, but we have put up a nice fence to keep the kids from plummeting headlong into the abyss . . . again (sledding incident, no blood, no foul)

16.Any plans for Friday night? well, this past Friday night I went to my cousin's wedding rehearsal and then to the rehearsal dinner where we had some delicious appetizers, plus they had my all-time fave, cocktail weenies!!!

17.Do you like what the ocean does to your hair? not really. I usually wear a hat or a ponytail when I'm at the beach.

18.Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns? someone sent one to my dad once, and we fell upon it like we had never seen popcorn in our lives. That's just how we are.

19.Have you ever been to a planetarium? love the planetarium! and so do the kids. we went to one in D.C. when I was pregnant with Baby Girl, and the kids were amazed. I was so tired I fell asleep, but I still love it.

20.Do you re-use towels after you shower? not usually, but I always feel kind of wasteful when I don't reuse.

21.Some things you are excited about? Baby Girl expanding her solid food menu and all her babbling!

22.What is your favorite flavor of JELLO? not a big jello fan, but, if pressed, I would prefer cherry.

23.Describe your keychain(s)? I am in a constant search for the perfect keychain and it's all because my keyless entry fob doesn't fit on any of the ones I really like. Right now, I have the car key and a house key and an "Our Lady of Grace" keychain that is all rigged up to stay on there, but still falls off. It's a mess.

24.Where do you keep your change? in my wallet - it's where change goes to die

25.What kind of winter coat do you own? black wool pea coat

26.What was the weather like on your graduation day? college graduation started out raining, but turned out really nice and sunny at the end.

27.Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed? we close the door over, hoping to send the message that Mom and Dad's bed is for, you know, Mom and Dad, but it doesn't work. If we sleep there, they will come (sounds like a good post title . . .)

28.Tag three people: I won't officially tag anyone but do it if it strikes your fancy!

Last Call for "A Charlie Brown Christmas"

Sometimes I think back to this time last year, when The Boy was suffering from an undiagnosed 25- decibel hearing loss, and I think about how things were a little easier in certain ways. (I know even saying this makes me a bad mom. Um, can we not fix his ears a little longer because I swear, a lot, and it might take me some time to break the habit now that I know he can actually hear what I'm saying . . .)

Oh but now he can hear a pin drop . . . over in the next county. He is like Radar. And I am glad about that, and not just because the swearing really had to go (for the most part). Because now we can whisper sweet nothings into his ear, he hears birds singing outside, train whistles in the distance, he can actually sing the words to his favorite songs, and he can quote videos. He has become very interested in "A Charlie Brown Christmas" this year, and we all thought it was so cute when he went around repeating Linus' narration of The Nativity.

And it was all sweetness and light . . . until Older Girl refused to play trains with him and he stalked away from her room muttering, "What a blockhead!" to himself. I think it might be time to cut him off from the ole C. B. for a while . . .

(As an interesting side note, The Boy's name means "one who hears" or "little, open ears." I find that beyond coincidental . . .)

To Know Him is to Love Him

No Thursday Thirteen for me this week; I'm burning the candle at both ends here and, as you may have heard, I hardly have time to clean and decorate the house. Besides, I found myself getting stressed out about what to list this week, and I'm pretty sure that is a good sign that I'm taking the meme just a little too seriously.
But you may be happy to hear (or you may not, but you'll hear it just the same) that I have gotten over the hump of indecision, and I pushed my way through the entire first floor clean-up yesterday. (Thanks for all your moral support, it's good to know that I am not the only one feeling swamped)

And you may be even happier to hear that I got a dress for my cousin's wedding, and I will not have to wear yoga pants and a t-shirt. Which brings me to the point of this little post: My huz rocks my world! He came home early today (4 pm) after a particularly trying week so far, and he cheerfully (cheerfully!) shooed me out the door in the direction of the consumer super-mile (MacArthur Rd, for those who know it) with best wishes for finding a dress. There was no sighing, or sulking, or passive-aggressive b.s. to which some people resort (those kids!)
No, there was just a pat on the back and a cheese sandwich . . .

When I got home, he opened the door with a smile, asked how the shopping went, sat through the Parade Of Purchases, told me how the children went happily into that good night, and even summarized "The Office," which I missed, acting out all the best jokes.

And that's why I married him. He is a Good Man. A Really Good Man. I rarely send him off to do fun things so happily. Sometimes I just want to give him the finger while he's pulling out of the driveway. It's crude, and unpretty, and certainly not loving, but I'm not pulling any punches. I can be so miserable and selfish, but, luckily for me, his Goodness kind of catches me around the ankle, and drags me along behind him for a little while until I can get back up in the saddle. Thank God I get to ride double with him.

"I love him so dearly. He is truly the best man I know." - Elizabeth Bennet, Pride & Prejudice

In which I realize the stress might be getting to me

It is a peculiar trait of mine that, when faced with mounds of work to do, I either buck up and get to it like I've recently become acquainted with crystal meth, or I feel so immobilized that I cannot even decide where to start, and thus nothing is accomplished. Kind of like a deer being frozen by the oncoming lights of a truck full of unwashed clothes, dirty bathrooms, an undecorated Christmas tree, and an unbalanced checkbook, all covered up with a flapping tarp of Childrens' Christmas Expectations and Dreams.
And so I am here blogging right now, because I can't decide where in my house to even begin. Do I tackle the bathroom that needs a biohazard sticker on the door? Or do I wash the kitchen floor before my kids are permanently stuck to the sticky spots that are growing in number and strength. But maybe I should just get moving on the laundry since Older Girl ran out of school socks yesterday (I don't know where she found the socks she has on today, nor do I want to). Or I could just ditch the housecleaning altogether and work on all the Christmas card addressing, and tree decorating, and cookie baking, and teacher gift-basketing that I have yet to finish (and which is littering up the whole dining room). Hmmm . . . I'll figure it out as soon as I finish this post.
Rob says this indecision, this paralysis in the face of Too Much, is actually a symptom of my struggle with my postpartum depression. I think about how bad it might be if I wasn't such good friends with my generic Zoloft, but maybe it's time to up my dosage because something's got to give. It's not that I don't try to get things done -- believe me, I have read every book and tried every scheduling system out there. I've also simplified, streamlined, cut things out, ditched the excess, etc. And all these things work for a while, until my brain chemistry just seems to get the better of me.
The good part about being medicated (besides, you know, not spending my days curled in a fetal position on the bathroom floor, crying, and choking down Oreos, while telling my children to "go away from Mommy") is the perspective, the ability to look and see that this is temporary. It's something impossible to see when you're in the thick of it with no help.
So I'll eventually get it together, hopefully in time for Christmas, because a Valentine's Tree just doesn't have the same appeal for my kids. I'll start with the kitchen . . . right after I read a couple of my favorite blogs . . . baby steps, people . . .

PS: Who is the patron saint of housework and/or Mothers On The Edge. And if you tell me St. Jude or St. Rita (lost causes, for those who don't know) you can save your breath, they've already heard from me.

What Not to Wear

Oh, the scourge of back-fat! You know what I'm talking about. If you don't have it yourself (get away from me), then you've seen it on someone else (like me) and you've been relieved you don't have it. It's that little roll that likes to poke out from just under the bra line, making you look a little lumpy under your clothes. I have been (unsuccessfully) looking for a dress for my cousin's wedding, (which is on Saturday, so time's a-wastin' here), and I am starting to think I might never find something I like. Heck, I don't even have to like it, as long as the back-fat problem is taken care of. I have nothing in my closet that would be appropriate for a wedding, unless it is a wedding where the guests could don oversized t-shirts, sports bras, and flare-leg yoga pants. (Because if that is the case, then I'm in like flynn). It is a tricky place, the closet of a postpartum woman who has been a stay-home mom for the bulk of her married life. I don't have any "business" clothes, no lovely suits or skirts, because they are impractical for my life. I would never get a chance to wear them, so I don't buy them. Instead, the drawers are laden with jeans, t-shirts, exercise pants, a few sweaters and button down shirts, and one nice pair of "church slacks." (People at church have probably started thinking that I only own one pair of pants because it's all they ever see on me.) Most of the time, it doesn't bother me too much because I am too busy cleaning toilets or folding laundry to notice, but then comes a fashion crisis like a wedding, and I can easily see the gaping holes in my wardrobe.
And since I don't relish trying on clothes with three kids keeping me company in the dressing room (not since the time a few years ago that Older Girl said my stomach looked like it was "folded" in the front, anyway) I only have Thursday to find "the dress." Rob is coming home a little early so I can run out before I have to go to choir practice. At least the stores won't be busy and there will be plenty of convenient, well-lit parking.
Wish me luck -- if I find something half decent, I'll post it here. If you don't see any pictures, you'll know I decided to go with my blue yoga pants and the US Navy t-shirt that says, "Got Freedom?"

Check It, My "Peeps"

I've become a Blogging Chick! Check the cute little button and blogroll on my sidebar for all the "chick" lit you can handle . . .

Ooo, Baby, Baby . . .

On our way home from the Langan Family Christmas Extravaganza (and buffet, don't forget the buffet . . .), I was thinking how it cannot be underestimated the amount of happiness that can be brought by removing an extremely painful pair of shoes. Think of it - the cramping and pinching are gone as soon as the offending agents are shed and there is nothing to do but stretch your toes and flex your feet in liberation.

And I was also thinking about all the new babies that are coming (and no, not a one of them is coming from me, thankyouverymuch). We just found out about another human-in-progress this weekend, but I won't say any names until I know that his/her parents are down with that (so what do you say, Mommy and Daddy? Can I tell? Because you know what this is doing to me!)

I am so excited! (Almost as excited as The Boy when he opened his Mountain Overpass and Echo Tunnel this afternoon. It's pretty hard to equal the excitement of a Thomas the Tank frenzy.) It seems that we are a "baby" family; we usually can't make it to one grandchild's first birthday, without finding out that another is on the way. I realize that this won't go on forever, that there will eventually be the end of the line, for both the family at large and my little corner of it. Maybe that's why I enjoy this time so much now, with the children all young and piled around me. They are the best part of my life.

Life is always a rich and steady time when you are waiting for something to happen or to hatch. E.B. White

Thursday Thirteen #6

Thirteen TV shows that I loved as a kid (and whose theme songs take up too much brain space as an adult) 1. MacGyver: I know I referenced MacGyver in my previous Thursday Thirteen, but my devotion cannot be understated. Since this predated the arrival of the VCR in my parents' house, I used to pray that we would not have to be out anywhere on "MacGyver" night. But why do we have to take him to the hospital? It doesn't look like such a deep cut to me, can't we just put some pressure on it? Besides, Richard Dean Anderson, a hummana hummana hummana . . . . 2. Jem and the Holograms : This show was truly outrageous . . . truly,truly,truly outrageous. I used to watch this in the morning during summer vacation, and wish I was Jerrica Benson. She had it all, folks: - a record company (that someone was trying to sabotage), a super-computer (that could be accessed through her earrings), a hot all-girl band (who apparently hired the same makeup artist as KISS), a dreamy boyfriend named Rio (Rio! Who wouldn't want a boyfriend named Rio, even if he only liked your rock-star alter-ego and didn't know you existed), and best of all, synergy! Outrageous, indeed. 3. The Love Boat : I loved this show for the single reason that my grandmother loved this show, and on nights that I would sleep over at her house, she would let me sit up on her big bed and watch The Love Boat in her room. Really good times. 4. She-Ra: Princess of Power : Basically, this was He-Man for girls, but we all know that Adora could put the hurt on Adam any day of the week. And she had better legs. 5. 3-2-1 Contact : The science nerd in me loved this show, and I always wondered why we never did all those cool experiments in class. Plus, "The Bloodhound Gang" could solve a mystery in about 7 minutes flat, because if "you've got the crime, we've got the time, we're The Bloodhound Gang." 6. Belle and Sebastian : No other show has ever made me want to be an orphaned gypsy wandering the Pyrenees as much as this show. Plus, I also thought a dog with a barrel of "cheer" around its neck would probably come in handy on several occasions. 7. Buck Rogers in the 25th Century : I was not a big fan of space- themed shows, but this was the exception. I mostly wanted my hair to look like Erin Gray's because she was rockin' the 25th century Earth look. (And I am hereby officially conceding to my husband that he has been correct all along about the name of Buck Rogers' robot sidekick, which is Twiki, not "Twinky" like I used to think.) 8. The Great Space Coaster : "Come on board for the Great Space Coaster . . ." This was such a trippy show, but I had the same rainbow overalls as one of the characters, so I was hooked. Plus it had Gary Gnu, and we all know that "no gnus is good gnus." 9. The Young Riders : While all my friends were deciding which New Kid they liked the best, I was obsessing over the Pony Express and the wild west. I used to have a handmade poster in my room that proclaimed this "The Greatest Show on Earth" -- well, that and the circus, apparently. 10. Scarecrow and Mrs. King : The reruns of this show were in my parents' post-VCR era and I used many a hard -earned babysitting dollar to buy blank VHS tapes so that I could watch (and re-watch), and subsequently memorize, every episode of this show. A sickness, I tell you . . . 11. Thundercats : Looking back on it now, this show was virtually riddled with sexual imagery (yelling "Thunder, thunder, thunder, thundercats, HO!!!!!" while your sword grows to preposterous lengths? Really, Lion-O?), but I never realized it at the time. It gives me hope that my kids will go on to lives as productive citizens, even if they are (inadvertently) exposed to crap in their childhoods. 12. Voltron : My question: when will the team realize that when a strange ship/air freight cargo box lands on the planet, it always houses another Robeast? Oh, and that the Robeast will always go for the Blue Lion first because that is the one piloted by Princess Allura (who was the team newbie and a valuable hostage rolled into one)? Come on, guys, use your heads. 13. Battle of the Planets : OK, I didn't actually watch this because I was only 2 when it was on, but this is a little "seven-zark-seven," "G-force," "always 5 acting as one," love note to my husband. Links to other Thursday Thirteens!1. (leave your link in comments, I’ll add you here!) Karen W Huberama Christie Chupieandj'smama ancsweetandsassygal Amy Linder Brony Carrie Jenny Ryan

Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!

The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Be sure to update your Thirteen with links that are left for you, as well! I will link to everyone who participates and leaves a link to their 13 things. Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!
View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

All You Need is Love

Happy Anniversary to my in-laws (and dear friends to boot), Marguerite and Jason. I didn't call you, and if this blog entry came any later it would be tomorrow, but we were thinking of you and a card is in the mail -- because you know I'm all about the cards (see below)!

Letter Be

I am in the thick of it -- my Christmas card-a-palooza, that is. I love everything about Christmas cards; sending, receiving, the family pictures. Well, to be honest, I like getting other people's family pictures. Convincing my kids to sit still for the camera is a herculean effort that makes me curse at Christmastime, and it's not pretty, people. It must be the same with other families, and if it's not, if your children sit arm in arm in Von Trappian bliss humming "Edelweiss" beside a crackling fire, then I don't want to know. I am a slave to Photoshop.

Anyway. . .
We have a huge Christmas card list for two reasons: I have a ginormous family, and I cannot bear to cut someone from the list unless they have passed away or haven't spoken to us in 5 years. Really, you have to do something extreme to not get a card from us (and if you don't want a card from us, well, you know what you have to do). Rob says we might just need to stop meeting people, or I'll have to start the Christmas cards in July (one step ahead of you there, babe, I buy the Christmas cards after Christmas when they are practically flinging them from the store and I keep them with the Christmas decorations so they are all ready for next year. My OCD knows no bounds).

But here is my question for all my bloggy friends and neighbors: What is your opinion of the family "Christmas letter" that seems to have become a staple in many cards (or, in some cases, the actual card itself.) I have always been in the "Yay! A Christmas letter!" camp, but I have come to learn that some of my friends loathe don't relish receiving "the letter." We regularly send one tucked inside our cards (mostly just to let people know that our kids are not as deranged as the family picture may suggest), but I don't send a letter to people that we talk to on a very regular basis, like my parents and in-laws, because they might fall asleep from the sheer boredom of it all. I send a letter to the friends and family we rarely see, like those in the military who are stationed all over the world.

But I don't like boastful letters, and we are lucky to not get any of those, but my friends do, and maybe that's why they dread them. You know the kind: Well, darling Muffy has finally come out into society at her debutante ball, while her older brother, Chesterton, has joined the country club as a junior member -- all while working jointly with their father on a scientific paper researching the effect of deforestation on the leopard toad of Nicaragua and applying for early admission to Harvard. Or was it Yale? One of the two. Or maybe both. Anyhoo, Merry Christmas from Aruba!

Yeah, our letters aren't quite that exciting. Ours are more like: Hmmm, what did we do this year? Well, we I had a baby in June, the other two kids are in school, I am the stay-at-home mom who is never home, and Rob still works at the same place. Oh, and we're thinking about replacing our 11 year old pickup truck sometime this year with a car that doesn't need anything jiggled to get it started. Merry Christmas from the laundry room!

Well, hopefully I can spin it a little better than that, but it's not too far from the truth. But I still like to get other people's family letters and see how everyone is doing and how the kids are growing -- does that make me a Nosey Parker? So what say you to the idea of the Christmas letter: Yea or Nay?

The Apple and Her Tree

So Older Girl is back to her sinless baptismal state (at least until the morrow . . .) and we have all survived the First Reconciliation. Older Girl goes to a regional Catholic school comprised of three feeder parishes, and our parish, Holy Trinity, was first up at bat for the sacraments.
The evening was interesting to me in so many ways. I will be the first to admit that, while I was growing up, I was never a huge fan of confession, and I always looked askance at the people who said they loved going to confession. Because I always focused on the failure and the sin part, and not on the whole point of the sacrament, which is that God loves me anyway and wants to forgive me. I missed out on the joy, the love, the relief that is the heart of confession. I still get a little nervous for confession -- like maybe there will be that one time that I will have Gone Too Far, even though I know in my heart that time won't come if I am truly sorry and I resolve to change.
And tonight I saw that my daughter -- my feisty, funny, bossy, sometimes mouthy, always good-hearted daughter -- is just like me. There were three priests up in the front of church, and the children went face to face. Since Older Girl was in the last row, I watched the other children take their turns. They slowly sat down, and the priests would smile, so kindly, and they would begin to lead them in the sacrament. The tenderness in the church was palpable, most of the children spent their confession nodding or smiling, and they were all followed by a hand shake or a pat on the back.
I watched as Older Girl got our pastor as her confessor, and I watched as she mounted the steps towards the altar, where he was seated. And I noticed the odd angle of her shoulders, the deliberate slowness of her gait, and the nervous chewing of her nails (nails which have never been allowed to grow since she has sprouted teeth). She was afraid! Oh God, I prayed, please calm my girl's heart, and let her know that You love her even if she does something wrong. Please give her the grace to do what is right and good. I watched her sit down behind the altar and start to talk and then I saw Father reach over and take her hand and I saw her shoulders wobbling. She was crying. She was crying in confession, just like her mother. It's true, I cry every time. It is such a release for me. I guess some things breed true.
Older Girl talked for a long time -- six other children went and made their confessions in the time it took her to finish hers, but she came down the altar smiling and she gave me the thumbs up sign. I knew exactly how she felt.
I can't believe that now I have a daughter that goes to confession, and not just that, but our pastor used to be one of my high school teachers, and occasional confessor. I guess we have come full circle -- he is hearing my child's confession like he once heard mine, and he is passing her the tissues as well.

A Big Day

Tomorrow is a big day for Older Girl -- she will be receiving the Sacrament of Reconciliation for the first time. I ask you to say a little prayer for her, and for Rob and myself, that we may always model love and forgiveness for our girl.

Paging June Cleaver

This morning, after Rob left for the hospital by the dawn's early light, Older Girl and The Boy snuggled under the covers with me and decided it was a perfect time to chat. I tried to doze while they weighed the merits of the various occupational avenues open to them in the future. The Boy decided that he would "be tall like Daddy" when he grew up, while Older Girl tried to decide among doctor, landscaper, chef, or writer. Then came these little nuggets of advice:

Older Girl: "Mom, you can keep being a wife."

The Boy: "Yeah, but you'll need a costume . . ."

Apparently my current "wife" costume is not convincing them anymore . . .