November 30, 2004 | Haven't been hit by lightning yet!

It is a crisp winter’s day. Christmas is in the air! You approach your mailbox and open it, dreading the inevitable slew of bills and junk mail. But wait! What’s this? An envelope addressed in actual handwriting, with a return address from Casa Mir. Whatever could it be?

The other mail forgotten, you rip open the envelope and find yourself face-to-face with the most adorable holiday card EVER. A cheerful background of stripes and snowflakes offsets the photo of Monkey and Chickadee sitting on the front step in matching reindeer pullovers, grinning to beat the band. They are cuddled together against the cold, tasselled fleece hats perched jauntily atop their heads.

When you manage to tear yourself away from the splendor that is the world’s most captivating candid, you read the greeting. Something about peace on earth and sunshine and bunnies and joy–who the hell knows, because that picture, it’s amazing–and you run into the house to put this card on your fridge immediately. In fact, it goes right in the center of your fridge, because it is just that good. The holiday spirit envelops you as you gaze at this perfect, perfect card. Is that a tiny tear in your eye? Why yes, it is.

THE END

Exclusive to this version of Holiday Card: The Movie–BEHIND-THE-SCENES footage of the making of Holiday Card! Never before seen trade secrets and industry tricks revealed!!
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November 29, 2004 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Chickadee finally managed to get that darn tooth out, today. She fairly flew off the bus this afternoon, grimy tooth clutched triumphantly in her hand, big hole in her smile with the tip of her tongue poking through. (After dinner discovery: even a large front tooth doesn’t leave a hole quite large enough to suck Skittles through, although they didn’t get stuck for lack of trying.)

Maybe it wouldn’t have bothered me if I hadn’t spent an hour shopping for pants for Monkey, today. Yesterday, I was trying to get the kids ready for church, and every pair of pants I tossed over to Monkey was met with “Um, Mama? Little problem, here.” They were all too short. It turned out that other than a bunch of jeans and one pair of cordoroys in not-so-stellar condition, the boy didn’t have a single pair of pants that made it down to his ankles. Whoops. So today I hit the consignment store and got him some appropriate “church pants” (someday, maybe, he’ll call them khakis or chinos…?) and a few other miscellaneous things.

They’re getting bigger; they’re growing taller and shedding baby teeth and no one–NO ONE, I tell you!–has asked my permission. This is unacceptable.

But as any good mother knows, there is revenge to be had. They grow up without asking, but we can subtly influence them along the way. It doesn’t have to be anything overt. A few little things are all it takes. Say, a miscellanous purchase when you’re out picking up some pants, for example. A casual, “You will never guess what I found on the clearance rack today….” Before you know it your mini-me will be coming along nicely.

(Here in New England, there are three certainties in life: death, taxes, and LL Bean.)

Detritus, Retail Therapy

As you admire all the pretty, pretty houses with welcoming lights in their windows this season, please enjoy the following informative timeline of one of my favorite Christmas decorations:
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November 28, 2004 | Offspring: ecstasy and agony

Words cannot describe what has beset my household since the children returned home. It seems likely that the small ones didn’t sleep a wink while with their father. That would explain the extreme fatigue and concomitant snarling about how rotten their lives are. The only other explanation that would account for their behavior is that they both had brain transplants last week, and frankly that would never happen without the ex banging down my door for my half of the co-pay the moment they left the hospital.

Perhaps I’m not being fair. Perhaps–in my advanced age and dimming memory–I just don’t recall how difficult it is to be almost-five or six-and-a-half. Perhaps their lives really are as tragic as they’d have me believe. After all, Monkey had to attend a bowling birthday party yesterday, and despite the use of bumpers there were a few times that he threw* his ball and didn’t knock a single pin down, which disrupted the course of civilization as we know it, if his reaction was any indication. And Chickadee, well, poor Chickadee is going by Snaggletooth at the moment, owing to a top tooth that is protruding akimbo but still stubbornly refuses to let go, and the pain is more severe than when I gave birth to her 9-pound screaming self, I have been assured.
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November 26, 2004 | Retail Therapy

The tree. The Christmas tree! I’m indulging a bit of the holiday spirit, here, and you’re… sick. Geez.
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What do I do all day?

You may think that yesterday was all about the pie. But I am not that shallow. Pie is important, but pie ain’t everything. Yesterday was also about the stuffing. And the wine. And the card playing. Oh, and the Kahlua. Mmmmmm.

Huh? What? Oh, sorry. What was I talking about? Oh, right. Yesterday! Yesterday was about being thankful. And I was. I am, actually. I do believe that I am blessed in many ways. And my tolerance of those blessings is vastly increased by the consumption of alcohol. So.

A sampling of some of what I experienced yesterday:
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November 25, 2004 | What do I do all day?

Well, in truth it wasn’t all that wild. Except for the part where I waited as long as possible to go pee because I feared that once I undid my pants, I would never get them fastened again. And since there was quite a bit of wine and then coffee, that got a bit dicey for a minute. (Rest easy; my bladder did not explode, and I didn’t need to rejoin everyone pantsless–although I did have to stop breathing for several minutes–so it all worked out okay.)

I packed up my pie and my cheesecake this morning and headed over to share the day with friends. It was a day of good food, much merriment, and a crazy person. Every holiday gathering requires at least one crazy person, and if that person is not a member of your own family, it’s all kinds of fun!
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November 24, 2004 | Detritus

Okay, I’m ready now.
 

Detritus

All ye rejoice and be exceedingly glad… for there is much to be thankful for this holiday weekend!

The laundry may struggle valiantly, but in truth I am caught up. For once.

Yesterday’s molasses cookies are today’s pumpkin cheesecake crust.

Therefore, verily, I shall be revered tomorrow at the great feast. Such reverence shall resonate throughout the land and strike the calories from the dessert.

Yea, though the small ones descended upon the Dunkin Donuts Munchkins like locusts, this morning’s playdate was perfection and joy.

Rather than lamenting the absence of children on the holiday, thusly shall I celebrate the freedom to imbibe with relish as the sins of the small people shall not be upon my soul.

Behold how the misguided plot and plan to venture forth into the chaotic land known as Black Friday; but the wise shall be at home wrapping presents previously gathered.

Remember this and keep it dear to your hearts: the gorging of the stomach and celebration of the tastebuds shall be followed by the sporting of muscular men in tight pants, and it shall be very good.

November 23, 2004 | What do I do all day?

Note to self: next time, bake the cookies before taking a shower. *picking little bits of dough out from under my fingernails*

Noon rolled around and found me walking into Monkey’s classroom, goodies in hand. The Thanksgiving spread was quite impressive. The kids had all made little turkey centerpieces that festooned the various tabletops, there was a big basket of papier mache fruits they’d made (”Taste my pear! No, don’t! I painted it!”), and the “buffet” table was covered in homemade tablecloth (butcher paper the entire class had colored for the occasion). It was noisy and crowded and delightful.

Monkey and I dined on a variety of finger foods while sitting on the rug and chatting with other kids and parents. Every time he saw a child with a brownie or a molasses cookie, he shouted, “Hey! My mom made those!” It’s so nice that someone is proud of me.

The time came to start cleaning up and getting ready to go, and the teachers pointed out that each child had made a turkey centerpiece, and they could be taken home. Then we parents started noticing that the front of the turkeys had a little heart that said, “What I am thankful for” and then each tailfeather bore a different testament to thankfulness. We passed by one where the tailfeathers read:
My Mommy
My Daddy
My Sister
Pokemon
Chocolate pudding

Awwwwwww! Right? Totally AWWWWWWWW! But when two teachers came over to me trying to conceal their laughter, asking if I’d found Monkey’s turkey yet, I should’ve known.
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