Christmas!!!

I know... it's like a week late. But I posted my Thanksgiving stuff almost a month late! So this is actually early. ;)

This year, for the first time ever, Wayne and I stayed home for Christmas. It was just us and the Jackalope and it was the best Christmas... best DAY... of my entire life. No kidding. First, on Christmas Eve, we made sugar cookies for Santa:

This is the one he actually picked for Santa.

Wayne and I put Jack to bed and watched "Love Actually" (my favorite movie ever!) while we put together his cute little bike. His annoyingly frustrating, worst instructions in the history of the world bike... from which we removed the front brakes from because it was retarded and wouldn't work correctly. Plus, why the hell does a 3 year old need hand brakes on a 12 inch bike?? We also finished wrapping the Santa presents and stuffing each others stockings. Then, I took some pictures:





So, the next morning rolls around and, because we're horrible parents and have locked Jack in his room, we are awakened by screams of, "MOOOOOMM!!! Is it MOOOOORRRRNIIIINNNNGGGG TIIIIIMMMME?? DID SANTA COME?!" We rush to let the prisoner out and I run into the living room so as to video the momentousness of the first Christmas that he actually gets it. (Which, I'll have to upload and add to FB later.) It was amazing. Awesome. Beautiful. Funny. Everything I could ever have wanted to experience. He ran into the living room and said, " Is that bike for me?!!" Awwww. Love. Serious serious love.
We make him sit and wait patiently in his little comfy chair while we pass out the presents... Wayne turns on his "fireplace" - a DVD from Target's Dollar Spot that turns our big screen into a roaring fire - and the Christmas music. Then we let him unwrap every single thing he got. The first present he went for? The one he'd been talking about for weeks - the only thing he asked Santa for - the only reason we got a picture of him with Santa at all. I don't know how he knew it was in there, but he did. A big rig with "Hot Wheels" type cars in the back that he'd seen at Target. After that, it was a blur of wrapping paper, Batman figurines (the bad guys), remote control vehicles, Nerf dart guns and Nerf swords. He was beyond excited. Wanted to rip everything from the packages and play with it all at one time. I think we opened the big rig so that he could explore it while Wayne and I opened our gifts.


We made our phone calls to the family, ate some super yummy sausage balls (a Decker family tradition), and just hung out. It was the best Christmas I can remember. I just teared up everytime I looked at my beautiful little family - even when they were trying to "kill" each other with their new dart guns and swords.
I made an awesome turkey, with stuffing, mashed potatoes (which Wayne made), gravy (Wayne again) and green bean casserole (fresh green beans, that I cut French style). I made waaaayy too much food and we ate on it for days - and ended up having to throw some away.


Beyond presents (which Wayne did very well picking out!) and food (best turkey I've made, yet!), there existed an indescribable feeling of peace and love and happiness. It was truly the happiest day of my life to date. Which is the best birthday present - it's what I wished for everytime I blew out those candles before I met Wayne and he made all my dreams come true.

Firewall, schmirewall! I want my freaking blog!

Holy bejesus, it's been a long ass time since I blogged! I actually missed this mess of randomness that only 4 other people read. (Literally - 4 people. Sad, really.) But, I love it. And I've missed it. Since I found out today it's some weird ass setting on my firewall/internet options/who the fuck knows what in Internet Explorer and I can access Blogger if I use Mozilla Firefox, I'm baaaaack!! Yay!
I have so many things I could share! Guess I'll start with Thanksgiving:

Erin and I planned an amazing feast for 14 people. We rented tables and chairs to seat everyone. I went out and bought tablecloths (natural linen from Ross for $10 each), new white plates (hello, World Market?!), and new square white serveware (1 very large platter from Target that was to-ho-tally incorrectly marked at $4.97, and 2 very large bowls from Marshall's for $9.99 each). All of them are things I've wanted anyway AND very good deals, so I really don't feel bad about it. And I think I'll probably go back and get the salad plates from WM, too. Someday. haha

My menu consisted of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, pecan pie and apple pie. Erin took on ham, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, corn bread casserole, rolls, pumpkin pie. She may have made something else, but I'll get to why I can't recall shortly. Oh - and I made some awesome sweet tea - Bill and Erin said it was just like back home. Oh, yeah. I was going to borrow my friend's spouted beverage container, but we found a 2.75 gallon one on sale at Marshall's for $20!! Yay, me! Our friend Steph brought some pumpkin goodies, too! Cookies and such. Big ol' hit.

You may remember we'd planned to do a tablescape including white mini pumpkins? That plan went bust in a hurry as we searched and searched for them. I even went to the Food Co-op in Bisbee. Wayne and I picked up some green and cream colored gourds - unusual and pretty. Our genius plan was to carve the tops out so we could use them as candle holders. Cute, right? Best laid plans... Wednesday night, Erin and her daughter, Brittany, came over to set the table. We pull our pretty gourds out and... mold. Seriously. Luckily, the cheap little pumpkins I had from mid-October were still good so we threw those on the table instead. No one can accuse us of not going with the flow!! All in all, the table turned out beautifully. But I'll let you be the judge:

The kids had slightly different settings but sat at the table with us:

I think it all turned out great!! We made the napkin rings out of felt and the place cards were a last minute project I printed from a Microsoft template and glued to leftover cardstock scraps that I tented so they'd stand up.

Here are some pictures of my pies:




And finally, the twenty pound turkey. Wayne and I brined it for 12 hours prior in a mixture of broth, water, kosher salt, lemons, garlic and herbs. I basted it every 30 minutes with broth and olive oil. Isn't it soooo pretty?? I thought it was a little dry, but everyone else seemed to like it.


Here's the kicker: Wednesday night, as Wayne and I were finishing up some cleaning and getting ready to go to bed, I said to him, "Weird. My throat kind of hurts." Little did I know I'd wake up the next morning feeling just awful. My throat was severely swollen and I spent the morning wearing a mask while I prepped the food, just in case I was contagious. By the time dinner rolled around, I was completely out of it and didn't taste a single thing I ate. I'm sure Erin's food was absolutely delish, but I couldn't taste it at all. I passed on the wine because my head was so foggy. Everyone seemed to have a great time. I think. It's all kind of a blur to me. I do remember digging out my favorite Christmas blanket and wrapping all up in it. I was freezing... only after everyone left, Wayne took my temperature and discovered a 102 degree fever. Niiiice.

Two days later, at 5 a.m., we put Jack in the car and headed out for Austin... But that's a blog for a different day.

We are having plumbing issues in our master bathroom. It's been going on for a while - one thing after another, of course. Never the same thing so we have to pay the warranty company the fee each time. (If it were the same issue, we would only have to pay the fee once.) Well, they get to pick which plumber they send out. Normally, I have no problems with the guys they pick. But one last year was the epitome of all plumber jokes - stinky and gross and creepy and yes, showin that oh so nasty crack. :( Other than that guy, the plumbers have always been clean and nice looking and friendly. (One was even pretty darn cute... Hello, Desperate Housewives! haha)
Today, the guy who called sounded so icky and creepy on the phone... I contacted Wayne and work and asked him to come home while the guy is here. I'm fairly proud of being able to handle all the stuff myself and didn't wuss out at all last year while he was gone, but I just decided I didn't want to do it today. I don't want to feel uncomfortable and weird if the guy is as creepy as he sounds. I girled up. I wussed out. I called in the hubby to deal with the grossness. And I'm not ashamed. LOL

Falling down Friday

No, I'm not planning to get so drunk that I fall down. Well, not today anyway. And really, falling down is something I do stone-cold sober. I seem to have more grace and agility after a few vodka-7's than any other time.
I promised a couple of FB friends I'd share my embarrassing post office story with them. And since it involves falling down, thinking about it inspired me to blog about it.
I have a long standing history of being the clumsiest member of the family... in fact, I believe I'm the clumsiest person I know. My hand-eye coordination is non-existant. As a kid, my dad loved to joke, "We should have named you Grace." Hardy har har. (What can I say? Dad's sense of humor is definitely old-school.) I hated sports. Track and field day was dreaded. I was slow, uncoordinated and not at all competitive. Growing up in a very sports-minded family was uncomfortable, to say the least. Seriously. They all loved football, basketball, baseball... I tried. I played soccer for a while - until I got put in as goalie and got sick of being hit with the ball. For some reason, everytime a ball was involved in play, I'd get hit right in the damned nose and end up bleeding all over the place. I mean everytime - dodge ball, volleyball, soccer. You name it. My parents couldn't understand why I'd rather be inside, reading a book. Ha!
Anywho... The point is I fall down. A lot. Not as much these days. I don't know if it was being pregnant, doing yoga, or working out but something has made me more aware of my center of gravity and I seem to stay upright a lot more. But when I fall, I really fall...
Last year, Wayne was in Iraq. Occasionally, he'd request certain goodies or necessities so I'd box them up and ship them overseas. Of course, to do so, I had to make a trip to the post office. On this particular day, I had several boxes. I think I was returning some online orders, shipping a huge box to Wayne and one other box somewhere. Once I got them all balanced at the car, I carted them into the post office and stacked them neatly by my feet in line. Thinking I was so smart, I set my purse on top and simply slid the boxes along as the line crept forward. Finally, so stoked that it was my turn, I began shoving/sliding my boxes across the floor. Of course, the open window was the furthest, but no problem, right? I had my little slide-y system. Until the bottom box caught in the grout of the tile floor, stopping all forward progression. Well, all the boxes' forward progression. Because I, the klutz of the world, kept moving forward. In an awkward, oh-so-graceful attempt to stop myself from falling face first on top of the boxes... well, I'm actually not sure how it happened, but I know I ended up with one box corner firmly dug into my inner calf, my flip-flopped feet spread as far as they could, in an almost splits maneuver while my purse upended and spilled all its contents across the entire post office. The people? Workers and customers alike? Simply stared. As I'm sure any of you would have. The only difference is that you all would have burst out laughing at me while they kept silent.
I had a black softball sized bruise on my leg for weeks... and the lovely limp that went along with it. And the post office? I seriously hate going in there. I think I have some sort of postal PTSD. So don't ask me to ship you anything large. Because I won't.

It's a double post kind of day.

So... no one in my house is sick, as of this moment. And we are doing absolutely nothing today. Kind of recharging our batteries since we've been extra, extra busy for the past couple months. Which means tomorrow morning, I should wake up refreshed and ready to go...

back to the gym!! Bright and early, I'll be on that Summit Fitness treadmill. Re-energizing myself, my goals, and my determination. Since Jack and I have a playdate (for which I volunteered to do snack) at 10, that means I'll be at the gym at 8... if anyone wants to join me.

I am done finding excuses. I am done feeling exhausted and disappointed. Working out gives me energy and keeps my muscles loose so my tension headaches go away. It helps me to feel proud and strong - so strong! - and happy. Plus, it's the only way to fit into the jeans I love so much.

So, that's it. It's not a long post but it's a good one. For me, anyway, it felt good.

Girls' Night In

Whew!! It's the morning after party number one... the Girls' Night In. I only wish I'd taken pictures!!! I think this was my most successful party yet - the house looked AMAZING, the food was all set up prettily, and I just felt as if everything went according to plan. (Almost everything.)
As the party was a Passion Party, I wanted a romance theme. Red and pink. Candles. Chocolate. Pretty food, with maybe a wink at the subject matter... I had red roses on the food table and the presentation table. Gorgeous red roses I got for $8.88 per dozen at the grocery store. The store I tend to avoid because it teems with frustrating, frustrated, slow moving, obliviously annoying people - but they always have gorgeous flowers for cheap, so... I braved it.
I honestly didn't have time to hunt down my candle holders but I think that was for the best because once the party got started, there were things flying around and I'm certain a fire would have started.
Since I had a much bigger turnout than I ever expected - 15 women!! - Wayne helped me move our family room couch into the living room. I have to say, we've chosen our furniture very well. The deep, dark chocolate leather couch slides seamlessly into our living room set-up; sitting in front of the TV, facing the rest of the room, it's the perfect solution when we have a ton of people over and want everyone together. Of course, it wouldn't work for watching football or movies but for game night or a tutorial on the mild to wild side of passion? Perfection! (I'm thinking game night sounds good... sometime in February. When things settle down!)
I made (yes, MADE) chocolate cupcakes with a shiny, gooey, gorgeous chocolate ganache frosting, which I placed on my friend Linnea's cupcake holder. (I covet her cupcake holder but my birthday is coming up so if anyone's looking for a gift idea... ahem. hint hint) I attempted to make two layer fudge to be cut into heart shapes - pink chocolate on top, dark chocolate on bottom. But, it was a complete fail so I moved on (ha! I feel so emotionally evolved because I didn't obsess about the fudge and make attempt after attempt, wasting time and energy and money) and bought some dessert tarts from the frozen foods section. I made a chocolate cheese ball (cream cheese, sugars, vanilla and crushed Oreos. Mmmm.) which I served with chocolate graham crackers. Pigs in a blanket (mini sausages anyone?), raspberry chipotle cream cheese dip, and hot wings dip were all hits, too. Placed on my pink-y red plastic serving dishes leftover from our 4th of July BYOBBQ and my "you'll have to physically restrain me to prevent me from buying this giant white plate for under $5 at Target" favorite serving dish, everything looked great!! And I barely stressed at all. Even when the fudge failed and I ran out of time and didn't get to make the mini-quiche.
The pink lemonade with strawberries and lemon slices, soooo pretty in my friend Steph's clear glass beverage jar was virgin... for once. But, not to fear, there was chilled gin in a cobalt blue martini pitcher nearby! I'm thinking the gin lemonade I've been making all year is gaining a reputation. A friend brought along three other ladies, and they all knew about my favorite drink. And really, it's sooo super easy to make ahead - it's yummy, refreshing, light and pretty. What's not to love?! (For those of you still hunting for birthday gifts, here's another hint - while I have my favorite recipe, I have nothing suitable for serving it! Steph brought her spigoted jar and I am eternally grateful. I love the look of them but, since I almost always add berries, lemon slices or other floating items to my punches, the spigot tends to get blocked. I think I want a clear glass, not too traditionally shaped pitcher. Something I can use for pretty pretty girls' night beverages but would also be comfy using for a BBQ or Jack's birthdays.)
Anywho... where was I? Oh, right. The party itself. My back was turned so I have no idea who, but thankfully, someone dug right into the food so there wasn't too much of that awkward, everyone wants to start eating but no one wants to be first huddle around the food table. Thanks, mystery brave and/or very hungry person! Shortly after that, the fabulous Marissa arrived with her bags and bags of goodies and we all sat down to be entertained and informed and tempted. One of my favorite parts of the presentation? My friends' reactions, exclamations, facial expressions and general attitudes. These ladies know how to have fun!!!
And on the subject of ladies, let me tell you: The best parties to have are girls' nights. Not just because we all get to dish about our husbands/boyfriends/girlfriends' latest idiocies; not just for the cutting loose and relatability; but because when you are all done and everyone's gone home, there is next to no mess. Seriously. Women will be sure to throw their empty plates in the trash, place their empty glasses next to the sink, clean up any little messes they make... we've all had parties and worked hard to get the house just right so we all understand the frustration of cleaning all day just to wake up to another mess to clean up the next day. I have seriously never had such a clean house at the end of a party! I don't know if I just had a lot of clean freaks here, but even my bathroom was still sparkling!! (Erin, was that you??!)
For Wayne and Jack, the best part is that it's over... and there are lots of chocolate cupcakes left for them.
For me - it was hearing how much fun everyone was having. And, of course, how much everyone loves my house. Shallow, maybe. But very true. I love my house and it makes me happy to have people take notice of the hard work we've done - painting, redecorating, picking out just the right furniture and accessories. I also liked that one of the moms from my group asked me to post my dip recipes on the board. Woo hoo!! Success!! :)
Next up... Thanksgiving!! And Erin will help me remember to take pictures of that, for sure!

Party party party... possible party!

I am always the hostess. I am always the hostess. I am always the hostess.

That's me. I love to plan parties. Love. Love the lists. Love the decorating. Love the menus. Love the cooking and the people and the drinks and the invitations and the everything... except the cleaning. Although, that's not usually too bad because I get that totally insane nervous energy (plus a Red Bull) and I - with a slightly scared but mostly annoyed husband in tow - storm through the house, snatching up every last misplaced item, attacking dust and dirt like it slapped my mama, and basically making my house look as much like Pier 1 as possible. (Thanks, Linnea!) And I am so totally head over heels in love with my house when we're done. If I could somehow manage to keep it looking like that all the time, then I'd have more energy/time for the individual party decor and maybe I could pull off something like Alyssa's French Classy theme. (There are 3 parts - you've got to at least see all the pics!) Of course, if I could keep my house looking like that all the time, then we'd miss out on all the fun of the pre-party meltdown in which I panic and yell at Wayne and end up crying because I'm so sorry for being such a freaking nut but ohmygod we're never gonna get it all done before the people come. And everytime, he says, "We're not having another party, ever, ever. Never." And a few months later, I start planning something else. Because (say it with me):

I am always the hostess.

So. In that vein... I'm in the midst of planning not one, but two parties. With one, possibly two in the not so distant future.

First, we've got the so much fun and not too difficult to plan/prep Girls' Night In on November 7th. It's a Passion Party - an independent consultant company that sells sensual products. Like Pampered Chef or Tupperware but with sex toys and edibles and the like. Since it's an at home party company, most of the prep work is done by the consultant - in this instance, the fabulous Marissa Page. (No, I haven't met her yet but she comes highly recommended and she posts the BEST things on her Facebook page.) She brings her bag of tricks (that could sound very bad) and we all learn new things from her about enhancing our romantic lives. All I really have to do is invite people and make a few snacks. Oh - and get rid of Wayne and Jack. Pretty simple really. I'm planning to get some roses and candles to decorate (romance, right?) and serve some simple snacks - both savory and sweet cheese balls, as well as some pigs in a blanket. For drinks, I'll most likely serve some sort of gin or vodka punch. With sweet tea, water and lemonade (?) on standby for those who prefer. If I can find the mold in town, I MIGHT make some chocolate penis lollipops. Funny and yummy!

The second party I'm planning is a joint effort and, while I am very much looking forward to a fun Girl's Night, this is the one I'm just ecstatic about. My very first big Thanksgiving dinner!! Erin and I have the same traditional feel for the holiday and, since we both are missing our families so far away, we're hosting the dinner together. It's super fun to plan this with her because we are SO MUCH ALIKE when it comes to this stuff! From the lists to the invitations to the menu (traditionally yummy), we've yet to find anything we disagree on!! Our husbands tried to help - by suggesting we move their ginormous table from their house to ours - but we shot them down. Much easier to rent the tables and chairs from a local company. Erin and I had our first planning session today - she came over and we designed the Evite, finished the guest list, and discussed the menu. Next week, we'll finalize our menu planning - including who will cook what - and start on decor. I'm envisioning something Martha Stewart-Sandra Lee for the tablescape. (I love that word!!)

Maybe a white tablecloth with a fall colored (green, brown, or orange) runner - stripes are always a go for me. Then candles, pumpkins, leaves, etc. Nothing over the top or too big - I like people to be able to see each other while they eat. Oohhh!! Was just browsing Google's collection of Thanksgiving tablescapes and came up with a fabulous idea!! I'm not going to say (don't want anyone to steal it) but it involves mini white pumpkins, candles, and felt. I'll definitely post pictures after the event so you can be jealous!!

Party number three is my 33rd birthday! I know, I probably shouldn't plan my own birthday party but how can it be everything I want if I'm not in charge? LOL. Not sure what's going to happen with it yet - might drag everyone to a club for dancing all night long to prove I'm not yet old and boring... or we could end up having a party here. Maybe dinner, then dancing?? We'll have to wait and see!! All I know is, my friends are required to be there, my sisters are wished to be there, and it's gonna be all about ME!!

Possible party number four is a Pampered Chef dealio. Not sure yet if we have the time for it, as we'll want it before Christmas but we're already pretty booked up for November and we're going out of town the first week of December. With my birthday in December, too... Idk. Might not happen!

First a bitch and now an asshole...

I think Wayne is rubbing off on me. I never used to just blurt things out without thinking about my audience or who I might offend. Even if they were funny as hell...

So, last night, I went to a "Southern Living at Home" party... you know, where you're presented with items and catalogs and encouraged to buy things. Unfortunately, these things were out of my league price-wise, and to be completely honest, not really my style. Although, I did see a gorgeous shower curtain - but at $80, I just can't justify buying it. Well, this party was the consultant's first - she was both saleslady and hostess. She's a new member of my mommy group and I wanted to be supportive. Erin and I went to maybe meet some new people, look at pretty things, and have a good time.

At first, it was a bit stilted and awkward. We didn't know them, they didn't know us, we didn't have much to say. Then, things got rolling and we were doing really well... until I became the blathering idiot who doesn't think before she speaks. Somehow, the conversation had become about the Duggars and their religion (Mormon was what everyone thought, but I looked and they're actually Independent Baptists) and location (Arkansas, Erin's former homestate).

Hostess: Oh, there aren't many Mormons in Arkansas, are there?
Erin: Hm. Well, I don't really know. I don't guess so.
Hostess: But there ARE a lot of Baptists!
Asshole (formerly known as ME): Hahaha! Oh yeah. Erin's a recovering Baptist! Hahahaha!
....
(Insert cricket noises and awkward looks between Hostess and Hostess's friend.)
....
Hostess: I'm a Baptist.
Erin: Oh, well I LOVE being a Baptist, we just haven't found any Baptist churches here that we really like. We've been to several churches, and they've all been great. I think we really like...

The nervous babble about churches went on for several minutes while I simply shut down. Literally, in my head, I repeated, "I'm such an asshole. I can't believe I just did that. What kind of asshole comes to a person's house and makes fun of her religion when she doesn't even KNOW her? Asshole! Such an asshole! I am SO getting blacklisted from the Mommy group. Gah! Asshole!"

Thankfully, Hostess is a very nice person... and Erin's constant stream of babble covered what would have been a pretty horrible silence. She just kept talking until Hostess joined in and things went back to normal. I literally almost bought a $26 (plus tax & shipping) gravy boat in a fit of guilt.

When we left, Erin and I got into my car and BURST out laughing. It was that uncontrollable, it's probably not that funny to anyone else but we just can't stop laughing about it kind of laughter. (In fact, our husbands didn't see how it was funny or offensive when we relayed the story to them.)

Ahhh. Good times, good times.

Bitch Without a Cause

I was being such a rotten bitch the other night. I don't know if it was hormones or stress or exhaustion or what but I couldn't seem to find a single fucking thing to smile about. I know Wayne thought he was taking the brunt of it but what he didn't realize is that I was holding back about 70% of the bitchiness going through my mind. Seriously. I felt like screaming... my chest had this tight little ball of frustration and I felt like the only way to loosen it was to scream at someone. Luckily, I am rational enough to realize this would not be an acceptable outlet for my inner frustrations. Not only would I alienate the best thing to ever happen to me - the man who loves me enough to put up with my random bitchiness - but I'd also scare the shit out of my 3 year old. Neither of them deserve that.

What I can't seem to express to Wayne is how this feeling just comes on me when I'm stressed about something and it's best to just let me be for a little while. That I need time to either GOI or figure out what's bothering me so I can resolve it. He wants to joke me out of it or fix it or something and that just makes. me. want. to. hit. him. Or something. But it's not his fault. He didn't do anything differently than he does any other day.

Even going on a walk didn't help. At all. Got my blood pumping... burned 459 calories in 32 minutes. And I was still cranky as hell. Luckily, I woke up the next day and the demon who'd possessed me had left for less rational pastures... she was probably looking for someone without the willpower to resist her sly little voice urging her newest victim to just go ahead and hurt the people she loves. Now if I could just get rid of the other bitch residing in my body... the one who loves to eat Jack in the Box at midnight.

New couches!!

Wayne and I bought our couches 3 years ago in Plano, Texas. We were moving in together, after 5 months of pregnancy and 2 months of marriage! (He was in the Army, I lived in Dallas...) My single girl furniture wasn't cutting it for Big Ern so we went on a shopping expedition. Oh the horrors of shopping for furniture that we could agree on! He's 6 ft tall, I'm 5. There's a reason they call him Big Ern, peeps! It wasn't color or design that threw up the roadblocks. We found the perfect set at a little place called Rooms To Go. We loooooved our cranberry, microfiber, overstuffed, big comfy couches. Stand up to baby puke? Check! Long haired black cat fur? Check! Even potty training toddler pee? Check check!!

Aren't they beautiful?? And so comfy!

And then... we moved. Twice within 5 months. Apparently, these couches were not meant to withstand being stacked on a moving van and thrown around by my husband's well-meaning but hopelessly rough friends. The back brace on the big couch cracked, making the whole thing kind of wiggly; the lower seat brace on the loveseat cracked, too, but it made this godawful screeching, groaning noise when anyone over the age of 10 would sit on it or get up from it; the seat backs, behind the cushions, caved in. We kept the couches for a couple more years. Couldn't bear to part with them, nor afford new furniture.

Until now!! We finally got so tired of dealing with the breakdown of our favorite furniture, our first foray into actual grown-up furniture that we bought brand new, we decided to try to fix them. Well, not ourselves, of course. We'd love to be that handy but we're just not. I called a furniture repair place and made an appointment for an estimate. They never showed. Nice. I called another place but in the course of talking with the woman figured out the time, hassle and cost of getting it fixed wouldn't be worth it. It'd just break again.

Luckily for us, the local LaZBoy store was having a clearance sale! They were renting a space and the landlord decided to get greedy so they're pulling out of Sierra Vista and moving back to Tucson. Their stock was up to 50% off. Pretty darned good for the oh so expensive LaZBoy. Jack and I went on a little recon mission to see if there was even a reason for dragging Wayne in there. Luckily enough, there was!! A week of talking it over and finally, Wayne agreed. We got our comfy, pretty new set with a lifetime warranty and a 5 year fabric guarantee. Woo hoo!!! And since they're a warm brown (raisin) and the new chair is a smoky blue, we don't have to change the rest of our decor at all!!

And now we have even more room for people to sit when they come to visit us! Which we love love love. Some come visit and sit on our awesome new couches...

Oh. And I hate the 1970's afghan style pillows so if you find some inexpensive, raisin/smoky blue pillows that are made of a fabric that won't cause me to irrationally yell, "Get your drooly/sweaty/sticky head off that pillow!" at my husband and child, let me know!! (I have raw silk pillows in my bedroom that neither of them are allowed to touch.) I like stripes, paisley, and other fun patterns. (Hint: Alyssa, I'm lookin at you, babe!)

Fall Decor

I generally don't put anything out for fall. With our red couches, dark brown wood, and other warm colors, we didn't need to decorate. But we now have warm brown couches and a smoky blue chair that are going to totally have me scrambling to decorate for Christmas, much less fall holidays! Then my friend, a seasonal decorating FIEND, had some leftover pumpkins and scarecrows and such, so she brought them to me.

Inspired by that, and my across the street neighbor (whom I don't talk to anymore) hanging a cute fall orange wreath, I was on a mission to find a similar front door hanging - only better, of course!! I saw a very nice wreath at Safeway but it was on the smallish side and cost $20. My fiendish friend suggested I make my own. (HAHAHAHAHA!) But I figured by the time I bought all the things I'd want, I'd spend way more than if I were to just buy one. So, Walmart, here I come! I found this suuuuper cute brown wicker basket with fall flowers to hang on my door.

It's huge but you can definitely see it from the street - AND it's bigger and better than the one across the street. Petty? Sure. Mean? Not really. If I were mean, I'd go steal the damn thing and trash it. But that wouldn't even occur to me because I'm a sweet person.

I also bought some mini pumpkins from the grocery store to go in the silver bowl on my dining room table. (Wayne hates that bowl but that's a different story.)

With those, the scarecrows and pumpkins from my friend, and our door hanging, it's pretty darn fall-ish around here! I'm no Alyssa, but I like it!

Soap box

I really really have a problem with inequality. I hate to see people treated unfairly. I know - that makes me a complete and total tree-hugger/hippie/idealist/flower-child. Embrace it, as I have.
I received a fwd email today about how we should boycott the Muslim holiday stamp. Now, I don't generally pay attention to political goings on so don't blame me if the information regarding the stamp is incorrect. I really don't care enough about it to do any research on the validity/dates/origins/etc. Here's the email I got:


Please, Read and forward to all your friends and family in U S.
Thanks

Veuillez lire et transmettre a tous vos amis et famille aux E U. Merci


Subject: New U.S. SPS New 42-Cent Stamp!!! Celebrates Muslim holiday.
If there is only ONE thing you forward today... let it be this!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of Pan Am Flight 103!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the World Trade Center in 1993!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the Marine Barracks in Lebanon !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the military Barracks in Saudi Arabia !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the American Embassies in Africa !
REMEMBER the MUSLIM bombing of the USS COLE!
REMEMBER the MUSLIM attack on 9/11/2001 !
REMEMBER all the AMERICAN lives that were lost in those vicious MUSLIM attacks!

Now President Obama has directed the United States Postal Service to REMEMBER and HONOR the EID MUSLIM holiday season with a new commemorative 42 Cent First Class Holiday Postage Stamp..
REMEMBER to adamantly & vocally BOYCOTT this stamp, when you are purchasing your stamps at the post office.
All you have to say is "No thank you, I do not want that Muslim Stamp on my letters!"
To use this stamp would be a slap in the face to all those AMERICANS who died at the hands of those whom this stamp honors.
REMEMBER ~Pass this along to every Patriotic AMERICAN that you know and let's get the word out !!!



So, I got a little riled. Something about the ALL CAPS Muslim, about the call to patriotic arms over a stamp... I did a little bit of research (ie, Googled "Eid"). Then, I wrote the following and hit reply all:

I probably don't know any of you on this email... I hope you take a moment to read my response.

My husband has been to Iraq twice. Once as an Army soldier, the second time as an Army contractor (and father to a 1 year old, I might add). The first time was a frightening, enthralling, life-changing, educational experience for him. I had yet to meet him so I wasn't affected. The second time was all of that for me - a year all alone in a strange city with a 1 year old WILL change you. He's lost friends to the war on terrorism. Notice I said war on TERRORISM. Not the war on the Muslims. Muslims, as a whole, are not responsible for the horrific events thrust upon our world by the extremists who claim Islam as their reason for murdering innocents. In point of fact, there are many Muslims in our military who fight just as hard as Catholics, Protestants, Baptists, Agnostics and Atheists against the terrorists we all fear. I, and my husband, happen to be very close to one such Muslim. Our friend has put herself in danger to fight for her country - the US; she has left her daughter, her friends, her life behind to fight for OUR freedoms. And for her freedom to choose a religion and NOT BE PERSECUTED FOR THAT CHOICE.

My husband is well-versed in the Muslim culture. The Eid holiday is a peaceful one. If you look it up, the history is similar to the Christian story in which a father must sacrifice his son for God. Today, the celebration is about community and giving.

Please remember that Muslims are not the enemy. Please please remember that it is extremists responsible for horrors - and extremists come in all shapes, sizes, religions and races. (Have you perhaps heard of the Army of God? St Bartholomew's Day massacre? Christian Identity? Shirley Phelps-Roper?)

Again, thanks for taking the time to read this. I just couldn't let it pass without adding my opinion and trying to keep some semblance of peace and fairness in today's mixed up crazy world.

I'm fairly proud of my little email and wanted to share it with all of you. Let's all try to remember to be fair and open-minded. To try love before we try hate. (Here comes the flower-child!) Remember that by overcoming your fears and hatreds, you'll grow as a person and make the world a better place.

Sickly? Boo!

I have a cold. It's nothing major - your basic, run-of-the-mill headcold. I've actually (knock on wood) had much worse. This is kind of a feeling blah, headache, sore throat and a little bit of a sniffly nose and cough cold. But it definitely disrupts my life. Which I hate. I like those days when I wake up feeling motivated and ready to accomplish anything. Days when Jack is in a spectacular mood, playing by himself while I do housework or cook or what have you. Days when I get the house completely clean and make nutritious, healthful meals for us all. When, at the end of the day, I walk through the house, turning off lights, locking doors, and notice how nice everything looks with all our crap put away and cleaned up.
This is not one of those days. Hell, I haven't had one of those days in a while. And it sucks.
I haven't been to the gym in over a month. Gr. I was really planning on jumping back on that this week. :(
My house is a wreck. And there is no chance of it getting clean without me doing it. I love my husband more than anything, but he will let it go until I feel better. (To give him his credit - he did do dishes last night.) It doesn't help me feel better when I look around and see messes everywhere. :(
But, the point... my cousin pointed out my near constant illnesses. Which I took to heart. I asked Wayne, "Am I sick a lot?" Being a man, and therefore oblivious to the anxiety and self-doubt behind the question, he answered, "Well, yeah." So now I feel horrible. Like some weak, sickly burden of a person. Like I've done something terribly wrong. I am ashamed.
Which is stupid, right? I mean, it's not as if I mean to get colds and tension headaches. I wash my hands, use sanitizer, clean all surfaces religiously with anti-bacterial wipes. I do stretches to help alleviate the tension headaches. I commented on FB that I believe it's part of being a mom to a small child - they bring home all kinds of germs and sicknesses. But I still feel... guilty.
It's a bit of a vicious cycle, too. I know working out, being healthy will help. And while I was going to the gym religiously, I was much better. (Yes, even with all the germs that float around gyms.) Then, Jack got sick. Of course. Because he's in a room with 20 other kids, most of which who's mothers could care less if they bring a sick kid to the gym to spread germs around. So, I had to stay home with him. Were I a more determined, kick-ass sort of person, I could have gone to the gym in the evenings, after dinner. But I'm not. By the time Wayne gets home from work, I am exhausted. I am done and just want to eat dinner, relax while the boys play, and then send Jack to bed so we can watch TV. Lazy? Maybe - but I'm too lazy to care. Ha! Of course, after Jack got sick, I got sick. Then the tension headaches returned. Then Wayne got sick. And now me.
I've been to the doctor about being sick, tired, and having headaches. His answer? "You have tension headaches - which I can't do anything about except tell you to take meds. We've done bloodwork and there's nothing there. You are tired and sick because you have a 3 year old. You're a mom." Okay, so it was a lot nicer than that - he's a very nice doctor. But you get the point.
It does relieve me somewhat to know that I'm not a weak, sickly mess. I'm just a mom of a germy kid. Hopefully, he'll get all this sickness and colds out of the way now so he'll have a really strong immune system when he's older. Until then, I guess I'll keep taking my meds and vitamins, and make it to the gym when I can. And... if you want to come visit me, give me at least 2 hours notice so I can clean up the little messes I've ignored in favor of laying around in my jammies and hoping I'll feel better tomorrow. :)

"Mommy Group"

Okay... so, I had a hard time meeting new people when I moved to this crappy little desert/mountain town. Partially, because I didn't want to - I was depressed and didn't care. Also, because I'd always had something like school or work that I went to everyday and met new people who would introduce me to other new people and so on and so forth. Everyone said, "Join a mommy group! It's online and you meet for playdates!" Well, um... no thanks! I had a 2 month old. How does a infant who can't crawl, talk or play go on a playdate??? It'd be different if it was with moms I knew. I would have ROCKED some playdates with Audy and Marcus. ;D But that's because those kinds of playdates are primarily to chat with your friend while your baby lays on the floor so you don't go out of your mind with the absolute boredom that sets in if you are consumed with changing diapers and feeding a baby for 9 -10 hours a day with no adult interaction. Not really something you do well with complete strangers.

Anyway, fast forward to earlier this year. February, I believe. Jack was 2 1/2 (or almost), he loved to play, and I had lost last year's friend/lifeline to her recently home from Iraq husband. I figured I should meet some new people. Jack should learn to play with others. Maybe we could both make a friend! (Also, I was recovered from earlier depression which definitely helps in the not being socially retarded aspect of making friends.)

I looked around and found a group. Seemed like a good choice. I started going to a few of the playdates/outings, but really didn't click with anyone. I was almost sure the lack of overtures/conversations including myself was due to my shyness. I figured as I became more comfortable with expressing myself, both in the online forum and in person, they'd start talking to me more. Hm... but then it was months and months of people barely registering my existence much less speaking to me. I mean, don't get me wrong. I've met a few moms who are very nice. I've been to the movies and out to lunch with one, had some pretty good conversations at outings with another, and exchange friendly "HI!!'s" when I see another. But mostly, MOSTLY, the other moms give me a quick "yeah, hi, how are ya, isn't jack cute" kind of greeting and then go on to chat endlessly with anyone else. I really was thinking it was me. Seriously. As in, maybe I'm just not mommy group material.

Then, a new member came along. She looked interesting and fun. I liked her glasses. (Yes, seriously.) So, I invited her to meet me at the park. We chatted. We discussed the group and the definite snobbery. Finally!! I realize it's not me at all. I had been so removed from the cliquey-ness of high school and even work that I failed to recognize these certain moms for who they were - the so-called popular kids. I didn't meet some invisible, unspoken criteria yet I didn't cause problems so I've been tolerated. But always pushed to the outside. Not that I really minded too much - I mean, when they were chatting away, it was generally about things that made my eyes glaze over.

My husband and I were talking about it tonight... specifically about one mom who is fairly new but has just found out she's moving. For all the other moving moms, they host big farewells and such. For this one, she's hosting her own farewell thing, at her house - which I'm thinking must be a pain in the middle of packing up, since she's moving next week! - and so far, I'm the only one who's signed up to go to this. Granted, it's a little last minute but come on! When someone set up a tour of the firestation, I swear there were 20 kids there. When another mom (one of the "in" crowd) hosted an ice cream social at the last minute, everyone came to that. So what's the deal now? She's not cool enough? She came to almost every one of the playdates, she interacted with more people than I've seen anyone else do, she's offered to help anybody anytime with anything they post, she comments constantly on the forum. Now, maybe I'm being rash and all 15 of the normal attendees are busy tomorrow. Maybe they're all sick, or have plans, or have hives, or something. But that seems a bit odd to me. No? I'm a bitch?? Well, there you go. ;)

Blissfully happy

Well, that may be an exaggeration but I am happy, so that counts for something, right? I was just thinking... I generally blog when something is bugging me and my husband, sisters and friends are all busy with work, friends, or anything else more interesting/demanding than listening to me bitch. Not that I blame them. Who wants to listen to someone spewing vitriol about a crazy lady at the grocery store when you could be snuggling with your special someone or eating dinner or watching your kid play football or watching grass grow?

(I just read the word vitriol in a book the other day and can't get it out of my head. I'm so happy I got to use it.)

Anywho... I have been thinking about how lucky I really am lately. My husband, while never perfect, is an amazing person. He never complains about coming home from a long day at work and diving right into play fighting with Jack - in fact, he loves it. On the rare occasion that I am seriously hungover, he does not batter me with recriminations or "you know betters." He simply drives to Filiberto's to get me a Country burrito. After I've eaten, he gives me ibuprofen and water, and sends me back to bed. Once I've slept an additional 4 hours, he then goes out and gets me an extra large Diet Coke for my caffeine fix. And he does it all without complaint. This wonderful husband of mine also would do anything for his friends and family. But he doesn't take any bullshit. I love that about him. He's smart and seriously seriously funny. (Don't tell him I said that, though.) We have our arguments but we're getting better at them. And he loves to watch the most boring science and history shows... not to mention football. But! Much as I vowed to never have all day football Sundays because I hated them sooo very much growing up, we've found a compromise. He had football on all day long yesterday and I didn't mind one single bit because he didn't neglect us in favor of a game on TV. He didn't get angry when Jack and I were being too loud and he couldn't hear the game. He offered, several times, to change the channel if I was too bored. He answered my questions (only one this time!) without exasperation or frustration.
We have a gorgeous brilliant funny son, an awesome house, nice things in that house, two newish vehicles that not only get us from A to B but also have room for all our crap when traveling, food, clothes, a million toys. Most of that list was material, but I'm trying to make this short and sweet. I guess I'm saying I feel so incredibly lucky to be where I am when I am with who I am. And I think that's enough bragging for now... the next blog will be bitchy and caustic and funny. I promise.

Too.Much.In.Head....

I haven't blogged for ages. I don't know exactly how long, because I didn't bother to look at the date of my last post when I just read it... I'm going to say at least 3 weeks??
Doesn't really matter. I've been thinking about posting. Have even logged on, clicked on the link and then stared at the empty, blank box. Couldn't think where to start. What to say. Don't know if it's because I think of too many things I'd like to write down or if I just started thinking, "who the fuck cares?" Because, really, who does? The people I'm close to, who do like to hear what's going on in my life, they already know. Because I talk to them. And do they really want to read a long ass entry about everything they probably already know about? Reading this particular entry, would they think, "Jesus, Jen. Do you have to overthink every fucking thing?" The funny thing is, if I weren't blogging, I probably wouldn't even consider whether or not people wanted to know what I have to say. I guess, on some level I assume people don't. Ex: when I go to my "mommy group" playdates/meetings, I generally stay very quiet. I don't know any of them that well and when I have spoken in the past, there's a disconnect. Like they just don't get what I'm saying or why I'm saying it. And this is not in my head... they really are looking at me like I'm a freak. I am fairly egotistical about my level of insight and intelligence when I decide to put my opinions out there so it confuses me when they do this. Will you ever stumble upon me delving into political or religious debates? Probably not. I am blissfully ignorant and would not risk exposing my extreme lack of information by discussing it. Smile and nod, smile and nod.
Of course, part of my silence in the company of other moms is in large part due to the overwhelming majority of people with young children to engage in competitive parenting. Listen, do I think my kid is the best fucking kid in the world? Do I think he's smart and funny and gorgeous and headed for brilliance in this life? OF COURSE! Do I feel it necessary to prove that by making him memorize shit he could care less about? No fucking way. And why would I? I mean, fuck that. Let him be a kid!! My kid plays with cars and trucks and balls and pretend friends and loves to shoot/punch/headbutt all the bad guys that continuously invade our home for no other reason than to allow him to beat them to hell. He dumps all of his toys out of his bins and makes steps. (Remember, my sisters - who better be reading my blog! - when we used to make steps out of pillows? How we'd only move around the room via these pillows because the floor had turned to boiling hot lava or shark infested waters??) Can he recite the alphabet? Spell his name? Not even a little bit. To be fair, I have taught him some things - his full name, my name, his dad's name for safety reasons; colors for the convenience of being able to say, "Can you bring me that orange cup?"; counting because... well, it was cute. haha. And I'll be damned if he can't tell you every kind of emergency vehicle that exists on this planet. But that's just because he loves them. And do I care, at all!, if your kid can't do those things? Hell no! Because maybe your kid CAN sing the alphabet and DOES like to sit and color. Good for you and your kid! Yay!! I'll throw you a parade. But don't look down on me because my kid is 2 weeks shy of turning 3 and would rather wear diapers than take time out from punching the bad guys and go pee in the toilet. As long as he's not peeing on your kid, why the fuck do you care??

Letting go...

I have this problem. You can ask my husband. I have a hard time letting go of things... whether it's letting go of the point (his favorite thing: I just can't stop explaining why he was "wrong" during an argument), letting go of control, or letting go of people.
That saying about people coming in and out of your life? The one everyone emailed around a few years back? I think it's a lovely thought, and apply it beautifully to people who have left in disagreeable circumstances or who were, from the very beginning, known to be a transient person in my life. I always think, "Hm. That was a lesson learned." Or in the case of those people I knew would only be in my life for the weekend or party or whatever circumstance, "That was fun!"
It's the people who call themselves "friend" I just can't let go. Not in a stalkerish, crazy, hunt them down kind of way. Just in a I feel so sad because he/she/they no longer cherish our friendship as a here and now kind of thing but have moved past it and consider it a fond memory. (Or so I hope!) Nothing went wrong. There were no harsh words, hurt feelings, betrayals or other dramas. They just stopped caring to know me in the present. They moved on with their lives while I hold them close and think we are still friends and wonder, hurt, why they no longer want to chat or care what's going on in my life. Rather than being the person I talk to on a daily basis, the person I know everything about, these lost loves are Christmas card recipients, FB and MySpace "friends"... We say we should "totally get together when you're in town" but never do.
Is it some psychological issue that makes me cling to that memory? That makes me wish we were as close as we once were? That just can't let go and move on? I mean, it's not as if I don't have any other friends. And we don't live close to one another... So why am I so determined to never let them get too far away? Why am I so hurt by their ambivilance? Isn't it just part of life that we move on, make new friends, remember old friends fondly, etc etc?
I'm tired of being sad about people who've chosen to disregard a friendship. It's not difficult, especially in the age of FB and email, to keep a friendship alive, to update one another on our day to day goings on. If they wanted to, they would and could still be my friend in nearly everyway as before. Guess I'll just have to figure out how to let go and stop being sad about it.

I'm a liar

Wow. I've been blogging on myspace for a while now but never realized I'd be nervous... actually nervous... to start a "real blog." I guess it's bc it feels more exposed and available. On myspace, I limit who sees my blogs. Not that I think everyone in the world will be reading this RIGHT NOW. That'd be crazy. And I may be heading toward crazy but I'm not there yet. Just feels risky to expose my innermost thoughts and fears this way. But an outlet is needed and in current times, this seems to be the easiest one. I could buy a notebook and write a diary... or type a private one on MS Word... maybe I'm seeking affirmation of some sort? Want others to read this and agree with me? Or tell me I'm freaking crazy and seek immediate professional help? (BTW - if you're reading this and you get to the end and decide YOU should be the one to offer the comment that sends me into therapy, just don't. I don't respond well to criticism and won't go based on a stranger's opinion... So, if you can't say something nice, don't say anything! And if you don't like my blog, then don't read it, for crying out loud.)

So... guess I should state a purpose of some sort. That seems to be the trend. Well, my purpose in writing this blog is an outlet for the random emotional, crazy, scary, real thoughts that cross my mind. A place to write and write and, hopefully, be heard. Bc let's be honest... anyone who writes a blog is seeking attention, right? Even if they only want their close friends and family to read it as an update, it's still for the purpose of getting attention.

My life is not special. I've not had any major triumphs, failures, or tragedies. I'm a mom, a wife, a sister, a daughter and a friend. I try very hard - probably too hard - to be a good friend. I'm (egotistic as it sounds) naturally a good mom - I don't really have to try that hard. Not that I'm Mom of the Year - I don't teach him much art or music or anything like that. I just let him be a kid while guiding him to be a good person: polite, respectful, strong, good to others. I also don't try that hard to be a good wife... it just kind of happens that my husband and I are well-suited and communicative and love each other very very much. I am who I am with my sisters - sometimes I have to try harder, but mostly I just love them so it comes naturally. As for my aptitude at being a good daughter, I don't know that I really am. I tried for a long time to be everything to my mom and it landed me in therapy. How cliched, right? I have issues with all of my parents - my mom, stepdad, dad, stepmom and new stepmom. (Yes, it's confusing and probably a story for another day.) I tend to be judgemental of them, to hold them to a higher standard than they could ever possibly achieve. Perhaps I expect too much or perhaps they've settled for too little. I am trying to see them as people who make mistakes but when those mistakes affect me, and now my son, it's hard. It's hard not to say, "Why? Why are you so selfish? Why don't you care how this hurts me?" Self-centered of me, I guess, to expect them to constantly care about how their actions reflect on me. More therapy needed to overcome this false expectation??

Anyway... I'm feeling... neglected, dejected, and a bit depressed. Not by my wonderful, amazing, perfect (for me) husband. I've never had a closer friend. Never felt so secure and safe as I do with him. He loves me and will never stop. It's apparent in our everyday lives that we are, as friends will bear witness to, perfect for one another. (Again, that's for another day.)

I keep thinking this neglect is coming from my friends. They've gotten busy and don't have time for me. Friends whom I moved away from, who profess their love on the rare occasions I've seen them are so rarely available that it creates an ache in my heart to even hear or see their names. The smallest reminders are little nicks on my soul. Friends that are nearby and too busy to be bothered with me are everyday niggles of fear and doubt - why don't they care? what did I do wrong? are we really friends like they say? can I trust her?

All so very very self-centered and egotistical. Because it can't possibly be that they are simply BUSY. With husbands, children, houses, lives... Though, some of them can be held at fault - it's simply not right to almost completely abandon a friendship after months of being joined at the hip. I try to be understanding and not a complete psycho, stalker, clingy kind of person...

What I realized today is my feelings of neglect and melancholy have very little, if anything, to do with my friends being unavailable. It's because I have been neglecting myself. I keep saying I want to be healthy. I joined a gym, I had 20 sessions with an AMAZING personal trainer, I went to the doctor and practically forced him to give me meds that could help me lose weight.* The one thing I have flat out refused to do: make a permanent change in my diet. Oh, I'll proclaim to one and all that I eat "lean meats, whole grains, fruits and veggies." And I do... (Okay, maybe not as much fruit anymore. Not sure why, just haven't lately.) but I continue to eat chips, dips, popcorn laden with butter, nachos, fried chicken tenders, giant Chili's burgers with bacon and fried onions and french fries with ranch... I DON'T EAT WELL. I am a hypocrite and a liar and I've been fooling MYSELF. Which is the hardest, most honest, most embarrassing admission. And I'm not sure if it's made me feel better or worse.

*I have been diagnosed with PCOS, which causes weight gain.