Christmas in January?

The rapid decline of my aging brain--a worsening condition which only serves to remind me that the inevitable descent into one of those 55 and older communities may be looming in my not too distant decrepit future. 

Today I bought a secret little gift for an upcoming holiday.  I thought about where the perfect place to hide it might be and scanned the house for that gem of a spot.  I zeroed in on what a thought would make the perfect hiding stash and went to put my surprise something there...

Lo and behold I found not one but THREE Christmas presents I had previously hidden months before!  Apparently this wasn't the first time I'd decided that this covert spot was the perfect hideaway!  Several months before Christmas I had bought a few things for the kids and hid them there.  And yes indeed it was a safe spot--even safe from me apparently.  By the time the holidays rolled around I didn't even remember I'd bought these silly Christmas treasures.

Luckily there was a little gift stashed away for each one of my kids still left at home--no kid had been left out of this little scandal.  I brought the gifts downstairs and handed them each a crumpled shopping bag and simply said: 

"Merry Christmas, your mother's an idiot."

They didn't even ask for an explanation as they opened their bags.  This wasn't the first time this sort of unfortunate thing has happened and they know better than to upset an aging parent with questions that will only result in embarrassing confessions of senility.  And perhaps this was not a bad snafu after all since they would have thought these gifts were stupid had they opened them with all their more resplendent stuff on Christmas. 

Connor got a new U of O hat:

Chloe a fortune cookie key chain she'd been wanting for her back pack:

And Mitchell an orange leatherman's tool:

While they were happy with their unexpected surprises I was definitely not happy with my unexpected lapse in memory!

But what can you do?  Except for maybe ask someone out there to call me sometime before Valentine's Day and remind me that I've stashed away some secret somethings in my oft-forgotten hideaway!

Yes, that might help, that is unless I've forgotten where I've put the cordless phone...unfortunately that happens a lot lately too. 

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,
I'm happy to report that this year I've been really really good.  That is if we're grading on a curve and comparing the last few years that are still on my official transcript.  I've had:

• No speeding tickets.
• No arrest warrants issued with my name.
• and I have resisted the temptation to declare myself a sovereign nation and move to another country (a hard urge to resist considering my genetic make-up).

I'm also happy to report that I have really stepped up on doing good deeds this year too:

• At great personal peril, I helped a friend overcome the wretched plight of owning a car with a missing hubcap.
• Three times this year I 've braved the wildly overcrowded school parking lot just to pick my kids up, sparing them a dreaded bus ride.
• I attempted to sort socks once or twice this year--a true act of heroism if you ask me.

Here's my official

Christmas Wish List:

First and foremost, would it be at all possible for one of your little elves to get the loose screw outta my car's dash board?  It's driving me crazy.  I'm beginning to avoid driving anywhere that would require me to make a left or right turn--which honestly, put's real a damper on the number of places I can go.

Also, I would really looooove some dark chocolate covered pretzels.

They're the perfect blend of salt and sweet and instantly put me in a mellow mood, but I just can't seem to find them anywhere.  I was hoping you had an in with a chocolatier or perhaps had an elf who could whip me up a batch...or two...or three.  I'll really need them if you won't be able to help me with my loose screw, a little chocolate salty goodness will help calm my irritation on the matter.

Expandable jeans.  

No, not for me!  For my son.  Connor seems to be on a little growth spurt and manages to make "high waters" out of his jeans every two months.  I'd send the kid to school in shorts and just take a leave of absence from denim but it's winter and I'm afraid the school will think I'm abusing the poor kid by sending him out to wait for the bus in freezing winter temps.  I think the solution would be to have your elves invent some sort of expandable pant leg jeans.  Couldn't be too hard could it?  It would save me some serious cash. 

Also, would it be possible to  make that hair feather trend to go away. Or at least pass the message along to women over 30 that it is not a pretty trend to look like a molting chicken. I can understand little girls following this hair craze but it's just too much seeing everyone you meet sporting feathers in their hair like they'd slept the night on cheap down pillow.  Chloe's been wanting to get "feathered" and I can only hold her off for so long--so please just make this trend go away.  I'd rather she got tattooed.  Seriously Santa, you'd make ME and all the fishermen out there really really happy this year if you'd give them back their feather lures. 

I could also really use More space on my DVR.

I'm a total nerd and love to record all kinds of stuff on the history and discovery channels--yes I know, an unmistakable sign I'm getting old.  You'd think with one hundred hours of recording time there'd be no problems recording anything you want but I'm afraid I'm a bit of a digital hoarder.  My recordings are beginning to look a lot like my bookshelves--overstuffed with things I can't bear to part with. How does one find the courage to completely erase 'Lost Cave Temples of the Himalaya" or Michael Buble singing "Ham and Bubbly" on SNL?

An appliance that will last longer than six months.  I'm having horrible luck with appliances.  I've replaced a fridge and dishwasher this year...and my brand spankin' new dishwasher went kaput!  Please find me an appliance that will last longer than the round of therapy I need to treat my angst over this matter.  I'd even take an old harvest gold or avocado green kind like my parents used to have. 

I would also love to have some snow on Christmas.  Honestly I hate the cold but if it's gotta be so stinkin' freezing then we might as well have it snow.  Perhaps you and the weather man can work out a deal.  Yes, please, please, please, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!




On a travel note, I have two wishes.  I would love to go and watch the
Palio di Siena. It's on my bucket list.

I would also like to see the
sun set at Machu Picchu.

it's another bucket list place.  Speaking of which, so was a Space Shuttle.  I put that on my list last year and I know you worked really hard to make that one work.  But timing just wasn't right.  Instead of watching one of the last shuttle launches, I got to watch my very first grand baby launch into this world.  Not a bad trade.


Oh, and one last request:

If it's not too much trouble, could you send some more elves  (not the ones locating the loose screw in my car's dashboard, nor the ones sewing expandable pants for Connor) but a few of the others--could you send them to the house and have them  
take down my Christmas tree?  It never seems to get done on a timely basis.


Thanks again Santa. 
I'll leave the cookies in the usual spot.

'Tis the Season

Each December we pack up the car: with cousins, and hot chocolate, and chainsaws, and mittens, and snow sleds, and ski ropes--all for our traditional family Christmas Tree hunt.

But this year wasn't like all the others.

First, Mark went for an unexpected jog just before we were to take off for the woods.  He is never late for anything so our Shumway cousins weren't sure if we should go looking for the man (since, after all, there is a bonafide killer on the loose in our poor little town at the moment) or if we should just settle in for a long winter's nap while we prayed for his safe and timely return.

We decided to wait...
So while the older cousins hung out in the Shumways truck, the little girls and I hung out in the truck parked alongside and whiled away the time listening to Christmas music.   

Did you know Neil Diamond put out TWO Christmas Albums??  

Well he did.  And we can sing most of his songs to you now.
The things you learn while your practicing your patience!

Finally Mark returned home with the mother of all unprintable albeit hil-ar-ious excuses.  Relieved at his safe return, we headed for the woods.

In the mountains we tragically discovered there was hardly any snow this year.

 Just a light frosting on the ground but none in the trees!

This even more tragically meant that there would be no chance for my favorite Christmas Tree Hunting tradition:  Luring small children under snow filled pines in order to fool them into shaking the snow off  'because I need a better look at the tree'  in my demented ruse to trick them into sending snow down their own shirts.   

A fine Christmas this is turning out to be so far.

Nor would there be our traditional and wildly hazardous snow sledding with ski ropes behind the trucks either. What's the season coming to??

Thankfully the teenaged cousins found some new snow-free activities in which to entertain us all in the woods. They found plenty of green moss with which they could spruce themselves up with, then lurk about the forest in a harebrained attempt to scare the rest of us with their ill-gotten Sasquatch impressions.

 Seriously, they ran around the woods like this...

Our cousin Tanner found lots of loose bark with which to practice snowboard stunts upon...

And he got his first ever crack at using a chainsaw...

 And while there was hardly any snow, there was plenty of family!  

And plenty of forest shenanigans.
'Tis the season.

Tree Killer

Our Christmas Tree shriveled and dried up within three days of putting the thing up.  We watered and watered it but couldn't figure out why it was sucking up so much water and dying anyway.

Then we noticed the dang cat has actually taken a liking to something Christmasy...the tree.  Edward has discovered that it can be indoors yet feel outdoors by standing under the tree...

all day long. 

It's been sitting under the tree 24/7 since we put it up.  Unfortunately for the tree, it began balding and completely died up by the time we realized the cat was drinking all the water from the tree and giving its real water dish the snub.

Kid Scratcher, Lazy Lounger, Christmas Music Hater, and now we can add TREE KILLER to the long list of "Edward Scissorhands" evil misdeeds.

...and now, I'm off to take ornaments off a prematurely balding dead tree.

Don We Now Our Gay Apparel

Fa la la,  la la la,  la! la! la!

This lively Welsh carol,  even though it pre-dates our family, quite accurately describes our foul-weather fashion sense. There's nothing like a day in the woods in festive hats and snow gear--most of which hasn't been updated since the 80's.  Our family seems to have a knack for putting the wonder in Winter WonderLAND.

But when we don the gear, it can only mean one thing--Time for our annual Christmas Tree Hunt. This yearly trek into the woods almost always spells t-r-o-u-b-l-e, which, come to think of it, is the main reason why we don't just buy one off the lot.  Lot trees don't seem to provide enough hazardous foolhardy adventures.  This year was no exception.

Our pilgrimage to the exact spot where we've always found our tree was a little challenging this year due to one very gigantic snow barrier...

Which was accompanied by one very ominous sign:

Before I go any further, I would like to point out a few important differences between boys and girls:
first, Girls can read complex sentences that contain nouns, adjectives, verbs, and most importantly, ill foreboding.  Also, a girl finds it very easy to extrapolate content and come to a sound conclusion based on her reading and thus would have easily and clearly deduced that the road was...well,  closed!  A girl wouldn't even need to be given a valid reason for the closure, she would just turn back and head farther up the road, no questions asked.

Boys on the other hand like to know why? and how come?  And while it is true that most boys can read, they usually prefer reading only small words and very short sentences.

This is why most truck makers use tiny words on products that they want to sell to boys.  For example:

See what I mean? Two numbers, a verb, and a noun.  Oh and an X, boys love x's.

Another highly unpublished truth is that when boys are in the woods, they suddenly become very bad at math.  On this occasion the boys deduced that:

one giant snow barrier + one 4x4 off road truck = the sign was clearly not meant for them.

And I'm sure you can guess what happened next.  Yep, first they decided to four-wheel AROUND the barrier:

My brother handed the boys shovels and the teenagers all attacked the snow at the side of the road.  After lots and lots of digging the truck made it far enough in when they suddenly realized that the side of the road is where the DITCH is located.

This is when they thought maybe they should try just going strait through.

Here's how that plan worked out:  

Did you notice the stellar traction of the 4x4 off-road's front passenger tire?  And while this sort of thing might seem concerning to a female, the boys here are are in total bliss.

Another fact about testosterone, one that boys think is a big secret among men, is that they love getting stuck in the woods. They just don't think we girls know that.  Apparently some freakish wilderness bonding takes place during the process of freeing yourself from Mother Nature's daunting grip.

Not to mention the joy and pleasure men derive from watching their wives give em' a push:

My brother enjoyed the pinnacle of precarious predicaments by having an all out stellar day entertaining himself with the hallmarks of "Unstuck-ing". Not only did he get his wife to push his truck, he got to watch his brother-in-law  (Mark) dig his tires free of the snow.

 ...the teenage boys do more shoveling and hand digging...

All while watching from the comfort of his heated 4x4 Off Road truck.

Meanwhile the little girls, realizing this was as far as their fathers would manage to get them into the woods, used the roadside ditch to entertain themselves:

Sledding into a thicket of trees, that's what memories are made of.

Once the boys had gotten the snow out of their system AND tires, and the girls had sledded to their hearts content, we headed farther up the road--as the sign predicted we would--and got back to the job at hand, finding the Christmas tree.

And while the boys think we think the occasion is all about getting a tree, we girls know it's all just a ruse for the husbands and sons to go play in the woods and force their wives and children to don garish snow apparel.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

This year I've been pretty good.  Unless of course you ask my kids. They'll tell you I've sworn a few times, listened to music a little too loud--even though I warn them not to, and that while they were away at school I snuck in and ate most of the chocolate fun-size bars from their Halloween candy bags.  But in my defense I think the swearing was probably caused by a rogue child, the music was loud in an effort to drown out and counteract theirs, and despite stealing chocolate from my children I think it made me a calmer mother.

So if these things can be overlooked AND if you can take in account the good things I've done this year like:

• Showing remarkable restraint by NOT posting sordid comments on others Facebook pages
• Used way more recyclable grocery bags (impressive eh?)
• Forcing my family to eat more leftovers so we are not so wasteful (plus it saved me time in the kitchen!) AND...
• Not killing my children after they ruined my car

Then here is my 

Christmas Wish List:

First, I would like Connor's feet to grow.  It's a simple request really and it would make my life so much easier.  Right now we have the same size feet and that is a big problem.  He steals my flip flops and takes them off all over the house AND yard and I can't seem to ever find them.  Not only that, he wears my motorcycle boots and it drives me crazy.  

I own two pair.  He starts off wearing one set and somehow they get all filled up with sand.  Once the toe end is chuck full of sand and they seem to "no longer fit" he just switches to wearing my other pair.  I'm tired of shoe sharing...and with my son no less.  If his feet grew a bit my troubles would be over.

Next, I'm really hoping you can pull some North Pole strings and see if you could please tell my local store to bring back Shower Power.  

Honestly, what happened to my favorite cleaner?  My shower has lost its sparkle and I'm going mad.  I've tried other things but nothing works.  Tried KaBoom...it KaFizzled.  Tilex, nothing.  I can't stand a scummy shower.  Please force these cleaning cartels to bring this back to a store near me.  Everyone deserves to enjoy a Christmas free from the tyranny of soap scum.



Also, I would really like My neck back. Last year it was my eyesight, this year it's my neck.  I'm afraid I'm gonna be spending most of my wishes in the years to come on body parts that are aging, which does not bode well at all.  But this year, while taking some self photos during a long road trip I was horrified to see my poor neck.  What happened to it?  And why didn't people warn me about this sort of madness?

Here's the first photo that set off my aging alarm!  Look at my neck!

Never mind that my sister and I may look haggard and like a couple of bugs in our sunglasses...This was taken on a road trip halfway across the country.  So give us a pass of the overall beauty we're sadly lacking in the photo.  But me? And my neck?  What the heck it that about??

Seriously alarming.  So I started taking the rest of my pictures like this...

This is not a good way to live, all neck nervous.  Please Santa, I would like my young neck back.



I would also really like to See the Space Shuttle launch.  Apparently someone got the bright idea to end the shuttle program before I got to see a real live launch.  This is a serious problem since I put this on my bucket list.  And as you can imagine, that's gonna make it awfully hard to check off if they aren't launching them anymore.

Now, just so you know, I've made a formidable attempt to get this done without asking you for any help.  Go ahead, just ask any of your "we-know-when-you're-awake" Elves and they'll tell you I got pretty darn close to checking this off my list.  T minus 10 close to be exact.  But the weather was really bad in Turkey AND Spain so they scuttled the launch in FLORIDA.  All I got out of the deal was a really long bus ride back to the Cape Canaveral parking lot and this lovely patch.  What the heck do I sew that on to??
  
Seriously, lets imagine for a moment that I went all "scoutmaster" and sewed the thing on to my jacket or something.  What exactly would I say to someone who asked me what my space shuttle patch was for? A scuttled launch?  Not the stuff dreams and bucket lists are made of.  So if there's any way you could speak with the people at NASA, would you ask them to try and get these last couple of launches to go off right on schedule just for me? I've got a bucket list that needs a checkmark.

I would also like to pre-order some better weather for spring baseball.  I froze last year.  And when you're forced to keep the stats and your bad at it,  and your fingers are totally frozen, well, it doesn't make for good record keeping.  Just ask the last couple of umpires that needed me to give them a very accurate game update.  A little more spring sunshine would help my attitude and my accuracy.

And one last request...
If you've got some extra time I'd love it if you'd send your elves to come and clean out the barn.  Really, it needs it.  I'll even leave you homemade cookies instead of the store bought kind if you can pull this off.


Thanks Santa!

Back Together Again!

She's Coming Home for Christmas!

I decided to post this long lost photo in honor of my little sister coming home for the holidays!  She hasn't been home for Christmas in...well...it's been so long I can't remember.

Although our cozy looking pose looks genuine, I must tell you that I think this photo of my brother Scott, me, and my sister Steph had to of been totally posed.  I don't ever remember us being that friendly with each other!  When I look at it, I can almost hear my mom yelling at us to smile and scoot in closer to each other.  Ewwwww!

Though I'm reluctant to admit,  now that my sister has grown too old to follow me around everywhere, copy everything I do, and try to steal and wear my Shaun Cassidy T-shirt when I'm not looking...well, I miss her and her crazy antics.  My sister is amazing and I can't wait for her to get here!

Oh, and what's up with my brother's hat?  Was he planning on robbing us once my mom went inside with her dreaded camera?