Seven Quick Takes

1) A few weeks ago, we went to my work’s holiday party. Jack stayed home. Two things about this picture: a) Jack was clearly pissed about not be invited and, b) does anyone else think he looks way older than 9.5 months here?

2) Jack and I both have footie pajamas. Amazing.

3) A few months ago, I bought Jack a few Orient Expressed outfits. All the kids at our church in Alamo Heights wear them. I wanted my kid to fit in. Y’all, my kid dresses like an old man on a regular basis:

Putting him in a little boy outfit, no matter HOW cute it looks on the Alamo Heights kids, is just not a good idea. Luckily, the monogram is removable and we can keep it for the next child…so long as it’s a girl.

4) We constructed a “playpen” in our living room once Jack became mobile. We have saltillo tile everywhere and we were worried about him falling on it and getting hurt. So we babyproofed and put foam padding along all the corners of the tile and brick. And then we put chairs and benches with point, sharp edges all over the place to keep him penned in. You know, away from the dangerous stuff. That there’s good parenting.

Our little playpen worked great for awhile. And then the boy discovered how to climb. Now the house is wide open with nothing confining him to a certain area. All of this to say….we’re exhausted. And also: a mobile, climbing baby is a surefire way to lose those holiday pounds.

5) Jack, as you know, isn’t much of an eater. He hated breastmilk, hates formula, and now is starting to hate my homemade baby food. On the plus side, he likes feeding himself foods that we are eating (steamed chicken, beef, peas, bread). Bridget watched him this past week and was having trouble getting him to eat the formula that he needed to for the day. I got this picture one afternoon with the caption below:

“try giving me formula again. just try it…you’ll be sorry”

6) John and I are getting rid of cable in a week or so. I am not that bothered by it…we’ve only had cable for about a year—before that, we’d never had it. We realized that we only use it really to DVR shows so we’re fine going back to the basics and watching our shows on the internet. But there IS one show that I can’t watch anymore because I don’t have it on DVD and it’s not on Hulu or Netflix: The Wonder Years.

I started DVRing it awhile ago for nostalgia sake…and I love it. But I don’t want to buy the DVDs because it’s not one of those shows that I can watch over and over like I can with Seinfeld or King of Queens. So now I need to find someone who has the DVDs who will just let me borrow them. Anybody?

7)  Today is New Year’s Eve!!! Finding a sitter for 5 kids on NYE was impossible for my parents so growing up, NYE was a family holiday. I can’t wait to sit around and eat all night long while playing board games and the XBox Kinect. By the way, I’m really good at Soulja Boy on the Dance game. Like…really good. What Winnie Cooper is to Math, I am to “Superman ‘dat oooh!”

Happy Last Post of 2010!

Sometimes, I Think She Lies

My friend, Chelsea, tweeted about me. She said something to the effect of, “My friend Molly has the best stories. Sometimes, I think she lies.” I didn’t really see where she was coming from when I first read that tweet. I mean, I don’t have that good of stories, do I? I don’t feel like the things that happen to me on a day-to-day basis are all that interesting…and all I really tell Chelsea are the stories of my day-to-day. So what is so interesting that makes her think I tell lies? I thought about this a few times since she originally tweeted. And ever since, I seem to take note of every single thing that happens to me and my first thought is: this is the kind of crap Chelsea was talking about.

Most of what happens to me on a day-to-day basis is just humanity being jerks. I find myself quoting George Costanza regularly, “We’re living in a society!!!!” For instance, on Sunday John and I went out to buy a Christmas tree. Our 5 year old $75 Wal-Mart blue light special has become something of a shame. The lights only work on half of it, the branches don’t fan out right, and it’s just kind of crap. I knew that I could get a nice tree the day after Christmas on super sale. Nobody wants to be holding onto trees the day after Christmas. Jack was sleeping soundly in the backseat so I went in while John stayed in the car with Jack. I found the tree I wanted and attempted to load it into the cart. Me = Small. Tree = Huge. As I tried to pick up the bulky box, it was all I could do to keep from tipping over. When I tried to actually place the box inside the cart? Forget about it. Anytime I’d so much as tap the cart with the oversized box, the cart would roll just out of reach. So I kept inching forward as the cart kept inching away. Now the Christmas section of ANY store the day after Christmas is like Filene’s Basement on Wedding Dress Sale day. It was insane. People were everywhere. Yet each time the cart rolled away from me, people would literally MOVE out of the way---goodness forbid the cart touch them. And the idea of actually holding the cart so that I could get the tree inside of it? Get real. All those strong men hanging out in the aisles? Yeah, they had fun watching me. After 3 minutes of this, I finally got it into the cart and rolled away….pissed. Then I checked out and walked to the exit. Something was wrong with the automatic door so there I was waving my arms trying to get the doors to open. There was no way I could maneuver a manual door with this giant Christmas tree in my cart. But alas, the doors would not open. A woman walked up behind me and I was relieved—surely she would get the doors to open and, if not, at least she’d hold the manual door for me. Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. She actually walked right by me WAVING my arms and looking at her as if to say, “Can you make this thing work?” and buzzed right out the manual door, letting it close behind her…right onto my cart. What a peach.

At this very moment I thought, “This is a lie. This kind of rudeness just isn’t believable enough to be real.” But yes, yes it is. When you’re me, apparently meanness is attracted to you.

Tonight I stopped by the grocery store on my way home from work. I think everyone here now knows how much I hate HEB (the grocery store down here). I’m fairly certain that I am a walking study for how HEB attracts rude people. As I was standing in the checkout line, the woman in front of me had 2 boys around 6 & 8 years old and a new little baby about 6 months old. The boys were right in front of my cart so I couldn’t start unloading things on the conveyer belt. Instead, I held the woman’s cart so that she could get everything out without it rolling back a la my Christmas tree incident. Nothing big, just a small act of kindness…and she was grateful. She told me thank you a couple times and shot me a big smile. I loaded up all my items on the belt, held the cart once more for her and grabbed my wallet. The next thing I knew, I looked up and the cashier was ringing up my groceries. I told her, “Oh no, those are mine!” realizing that I’d gotten distracted with helping the woman and I forgot to put the order separater on the belt. Well, you’d have thought rather than helping the woman with her cart, I’d rammed it into her baby. She got PISSED. I apologized to both her and the cashier—it was a mistake anybody could have made and I was willing to go out on a limb and guess that this woman may have made a mistake or two in her life (or perhaps I’m the only person in the world who makes mistakes?)—but no. This woman was pissed. Every time I apologized, she basically glared at me….did that whole “eyebrows raised” as if to say, “Whatever!!!” thing. She finally left and I thought, “Glad that’s over.” As the cashier (who was quite sweet, by the way) finished ringing me up (again), the conveyer belt suddenly broke. The woman behind me then decided it was her turn to glare at me and I got this sweet like sound in my ear, “Clearly I picked the wrong line. First you mess up the order and now you break the belt. The stars are aligning…” The cashier called over someone to assist her. The individual took one look at the belt and said, “It’s not broken, it’s just too heavy from all the weight.” The weight of what, you ask? Of the nine 12-packs of beer Ms. Tissy-Wissy-Winkum-Fit had on the belt behind me. That’s right: the woman all mad at me for breaking the conveyer belt broke it herself. With PBR and Coors Light. As I got in the car, I pulled out my phone to text Chelsea about my ridiculous experience. But I quickly changed my mind. She’d read about it on the blog tomorrow. Besides, she’d probably think I was lying anyway.

All I Want For Christmas

Christmas was just delightful this year. Delightful, I tell you.

And because everyone wants to know what we got, here’s the rundown of just a few of the things Santa brought:

• A Roku Player—basically, it’s a little machine that uses thingamagiggers to connect to the whatitsdoo and the bottom line is: we’re cancelling cable and living off hulu and netflix. And, of course, my box sets of Seinfeld, King of Queens, and Roseanne. Yes, Roseanne. You read that right. Back off.
• Toys! Jack got so many toys I think his head may explode. And the kicker? John and I only bought him ONE thing. And the tree was filled with toys, clothes, and books for him. Lucky little guy.
• an iPad! YES! AN iPAD! Before you get all “Holy cow, I thought they were poor!” on me, let me explain: I won a fancy kindle at my work party. John sold it to some guy at work, then we bought a used iPad from another guy at work and long story short: we got an iPad for $60!!!!!
• Stocking stuffers from the .99 cent store. Y’all, this is a terrible idea. It’s throwing away $10 or so just to get a laugh out of each other for trying to find the most ridiculous things in the store to put in each other’s stockings. Yet we do it every year. And then end up throwing most of it away.
• A Sewing Machine!!! Now who is going to come teach me how to use it? Seriously. Christine Brinkman, I’m looking at you.

We had such a fun day and are loving watching Jack explore all of his new toys. This one is probably his favorite:

He just walks and zooms all over the house. He also got a toy that levitates. LEVITATES! We’re in the future, people! As you can imagine, it’s always strange when he’s done playing with it and we’re transported back to 2010.

Hope your Christmas was wonderful and filled with love, family, and the peace and joy of Christ’s birth.

Ten on Tuesday

Go see Chelsea at Roots & Rings for all the ToT excitement.

1. What was the number one item on your Christmas wish list?
-to be a stay at home momma

2. Did you get the number one item on your Christmas wish list?
-no :( woe is me

3. How long has it been since you've had a pedicure?
-September. Before that, July. Before that, years.

4. How cold is it in your city today?
-well, I am writing this the night before and since my husband is a retired weatherman, he no longer gives me the inside scoop on what the weather is going to be. So I don't know...

5. How many pillows do you sleep with?
-one Texas sized pillow. John blogged about its size once. Nobody commented so it must have been a boring blog post. Apparently pillow size isn't comment worthy?

6. Can you roll your tongue?
-like curl it up or roll it so I have a good Spanish accent? Either way, yes.

7. Do you always buy the same mascara or do you try new ones each tube?
-same one: great lash big. I used to use diorshow but that crap is pricey!!!

8. What’s your favorite cookbook?
-no idea. I have lots of cookbooks but with the google machine, they just aren't as useful as they used to be. If I need a recipe, I look online. If I want recipe ideas, I look through my cooking magazines.

9. What was your first pet?
-the first I remember was Hattie the cocker spaniel.

10. Do you wear jewelry on a daily basis?
-I wear earrings, my wedding & engagement ring, the eternity band I got for my first mothers day, and the bracelet my grandpa gave to my grandma on their 25th wedding anniversary & my David Yurman with jack's birthstone in it. I wear that stuff every day. Anything else depends on what I am wearing.

Happy Holidays…from a bitter young girl.

Every year, my mom sends out a Christmas letter. She always hated the idea of sending a letter to people, some of whom she hadn’t seen in years, bragging about her life and children. Her mother kept badgering her to send one out though. So one year, she just decided to give in. The only caveat? She would write it on HER terms.

To this day, anyone who gets my mom’s Christmas letter agrees: it’s quite funny. She didn’t want to brag about her children and life, so she doesn’t. Instead, she’s sarcastic and funny and spends 2 pages talking about how great she is and gives each kid a sentence or two—usually complaining about how we are mooching off of her or something equally unflattering. It sounds mean, but it’s really quite humorous.

Another thing about my mom’s Christmas letter was that she always included a picture of the entire family. As we grew up and started living in different states and often going the entire year without all of 11 of us (2 parents, 5 kids, 4 spouses) together, John photoshopped us all into one single picture. But this year, for the first year, my mom decided that since we were all growing up and on our own, she’d do something she’d never done before. For the first time, she’d take a family photo with just her and my dad. This wasn’t a big deal. After all, all of us kids send out our own Christmas cards anyway with our own families. But it was a big deal to ONE person in the McCartney clan.  You see, one person isn’t quite ready to settle down yet. One person doesn’t have her “own” family quite yet. One person is still only part of one family…that McCartney family with mom and dad. One person doesn’t have her own family with whom to send a Christmas card out. So if mom and dad cut that one person out of their Christmas card, that one person wouldn’t be in any Christmas card this year. And that one person would be forced to send out these:

Merry Christmas, Y’all!

I am taking the next few days off from the blogosphere so that John, Jack and I can focus on our very first Campbell family Christmas.

God Bless you and your family this Christmas. Enjoy the time with your family and remember that each and every gift that you open is a representation to remind us of the best gift ever given to us—the unceasing, unstoppable, unapologetic love of Jesus Christ and the Father who sent him.

Karma

This post is brought to you from Jack’s identical cousin’s mom (aka my big sister, Browyn). Growing up, Browyn was mean to me. Mean is an understatement. The girl was terrible. This is her blog post over at Did You Feed The Cats? all about how sometimes, what goes around comes around.

 

When I was a kid I hated my sister Molly. I do not mean the kind of hate kids have when they are mad at one another for stealing the last cookie.... I mean I had full hatred for her... And I am pretty sure I was the ringleader in the "I hate Molly" club amongst our siblings.
For example, when we were kids my mom had a rule that we had to flush the toilet when we were done going to the bathroom. The rule was if you didn't flush, you had to stare at the "contents" for an hour... Really... She even had a timer by the toilet for such occasions. Well, one time I was guilty of the above mentioned crime..... But convinced Molly to take the blame for it. I did this by being nice to Molly... And Molly was so happy that I was being nice to her that she agreed and told my mother that she did this awful deed.... I got to watch TV.... Molly had to face the consequences..... It wasn't until she realized the consequences that she told mom the truth..... And then I got into even MORE trouble....

I remember this hatred continued on into our older years.... I am not sure how old I was when we were at a family function and Molly was doing some very annoying that was irritating me (though now I cannot remember what it was). I was just sitting there watching Molly and then my mother looked at me, and said to me "Browyn, quit looking at her with that awful look like you are going to kill her.".

Basically what I am saying is that I was an awful child and sister to Molly...... I have apologized in our adult life... But I am not sure that makes up for years and years of torment and ridicule.

Why am I telling you this, you ask? As I sit here with my child, and his "identical cousin" (who belongs to Molly) I just got the worst fear of the future..... You see... Both the boys were standing up, looking out the window.... And then Jack (Brady's identical cousin) pushed Brady down and glared at him.... Yes, glared. It brought me right back to the moment when my mother told me not to look at Molly like I was going to kill her..... But Jack was me.... And Brady was Molly. It was awful. I would feel absolutely awful if Molly's son treated my son the way I treated her growing up..... So, I hope Jack is nothing like me one day.

Things I Learned From Santa

Last week, John’s company had a little family-friendly appearance from Santa. We decided that every child needs a picture with Santa so we brought Jack. We weren’t too worried about him crying because the week before, we’d brought Jack to see Santa with his identical cousin.

They both just stared at him trying to figure out what the heck was going on. Not a tear was shed…except by me…who was depressed that Jack’s first Santa was a 24 year old man with a fake beard. Come on people, the economy’s rough. There have got to be old men out there with legit beards that you can hire for a day. Just make sure that they aren’t on the child predator's list and we’re good to go…

So when we walked into John’s party and saw that this Santa was the real deal, I was stoked. Jack would LOVE Santa! I even put him in his little Orient Expressed Christmas outfit that I bought to fit in with all of the Alamo Heights kids at church. This was going to be spectacular!

Just like with the first Santa, Jack stared and tried to figure out what was going on.

Once he figured out that this dude was NOT his papa, the big bottom lip emerged.

And once he caught a glimpse of me just a few feet away, all hope for cute first Santa pictures was lost…

After Jack escaped from Santa, we went over to my mom’s to take some pictures of the boys in their Santa outfits. Heck, if Jack couldn’t be happy sitting on Santa’s lap, we’d have to settle for happy pictures of him dressed like Santa.

Overall, it was quite the productive afternoon. Quite educational, too. I took away some sweet tidbits of information:

1) Real Santa is freaking scary.

2) When you constantly dress your 9 month old son like an old man, it’s weird seeing him in traditional little boy clothes. Weird and a little girly.

3) If you don’t want your child’s first Christmas pictures to look creepy, it’s a good idea to kindly ask Santa to remove his hand from your son’s crotch.

4) Brady will probably be the more responsible of the two, “No Jack! Sit still! They are trying to take a picture of us!!!”

5) Who needs Santa when you’ve got this little man to remind you that God’s gifts are amazing?

Ten on Tuesday

Forgive my lack of post yesterday. I have no excuse. Just that I didn’t get around to blogging. But fear not! I am here! With Ten on Tuesday! The only problem? I don’t have a post in the chute for tomorrow. Or any other days this week. So these ten questions just may have to get you through the week. So savor them. And if you don’t get enough here, you can always head over to Roots & Rings for more!

1. Do you do any volunteer work?

Nope. Are you judging me? I used to do more volunteer work but then I got a job and had a baby. College was much more conducive to volunteering. How about this? If someone pays off my student loans and I can be a stay at home mom, I pinky promise to volunteer work the heck out of this city. Deal?

2. Do you have night and/or morning ritual?

Night? No. I usually fall asleep in bed. Most of the time I don’t even get around to washing my face. I just get so tired so quickly! Morning: wake up, usually bring a crying baby into bed with us, lay there for a couple minutes, take a shower, do makeup, do hair, get dressed, kiss the boys, make a cup of coffee, head to work. Riveting, eh?

3. Would you rather exercise or diet? Why?

Exercise. It makes me feel very accomplished when I go for a good run or have a good workout. Plus, we’re kind of a diet free home these days.

4. If you would rather exercise, do you prefer going to a gym or working out at home?

Gym. I won’t do it at home.

5. What do you think is a huge waste of time?

Commuting. I hate driving.

6. What is one way you save time?

Hmm…that’s a good question. I honestly don’t know. Try and do everything while I’m out rather than come home and then head out again (errands, I mean). That seems fairly logical though. Don’t most people do that?

7. What is your current obsession?

My baby. I’m a new mom. I think that’s normal.

8. What is a current obsession you can’t wait to pass?

My baby. I am kind of sick about how much time I want to spend with him. It will be good when I am okay leaving him for a couple hours on the weekend. Right now, if I’m not at work, I want to spend EVERY moment with him. It will be good when I can get away for a few hours and have a real date night with my husband (not, “Let’s wait for him to fall asleep and THEN we can go on a date. At 9 pm.”)

9. Are you currently reading a book? If so, what book? Would you recommend it?

Nope. The last book I read was “Does This Pregnancy Make Me Look Fat.” And I haven’t been pregnant in almost 10 months. Probably time to pick up a new one. OH! But I did win a kindle at the Christmas Party on Friday night!! So I think I will probably read more now.

10. Since we had the 90s question last week, what’s your favorite songs from 00′s? 

Bye Bye Bye. Was that from the 00s?

Hey, Hey Meggie K!

A few weeks ago, my dear friend Meggie K came for a visit to good ol’ San Antone. I showed her my city and told her all the important things about the city:

1) Never call it “San Antone”

2) Margaritas on the Riverwalk are a must

3) Don’t get your hopes too high about what to expect at the Alamo

You know, the important things.

After we saw the Riverwalk and stuffed ourselves silly with Mexican food, we wobbled over to the Alamo. Megan commented that she understood why the phrase is “Remember the Alamo!” because, as she put it, “It’s kind of forgettable.” She was promptly banned from the city for that comment. Kind of like the time Ozzy Osborne peed on the beloved mission.

We then moseyed on over to Louis Toussad’s wax museum. We walked in to see how much tickets were, took pictures with Forrest Gump, and quickly realized that Louis must be Madame’s less talented younger brother. Because seriously, these wax statutes were kind of bad. Check out the face on Tom Hanks. Seriously, not that good.

Although apparently Meggie still found him attractive.

We scored some ledge seats at the Spurs game and had dinner, drinks, and wonderful conversation while listening to the fans boo Tony Parker and his Eva Longoria-leaving ways.

On the way home from the game, Meggie—out of nowhere—struck up this conversation:

Meggie: “Man! I miss the shows we used to watch as kids. Like “Dude, Where’s Your Shorts?” Those were really good shows.”

Me: “WHAT?!?!”

Meggie: You know, Dude Where’s Your Shorts. About the camp and the cowboys.

Me: You mean Salute Your Shorts?

Meggie: (PAUSE) Oh! Yeah! Salute Your Shorts. Salute Your Shorts and Hey Dude! Yeah, those shows were good. I remember those shows.

Me: Apparently about as well as you remember the Alamo.

The most delightful part of the visit was the way that Jack was quite frankly smitten with Miss Meggie. He loved playing with her and when we told him that she had to leave the next day during bathtime, he was NOT happy about it.

She assured us that she’d be back again soon. After all, even she can’t stay away from this Texas cowboy for long.

Crossed Lines

This is John.  Molly and I were watching Seinfeld as we do most every single night of our lives… Anyway, this episode was on:

Just watch the first scene.  It’s the most important.  Anyway, it brought back a wonderful memory when lines actually did get crossed.

Molly and I were in the car and we needed to call someone, so Molly called and on the other end someone picked up.  However, this person was also placing a call, it was really confusing as they both said hello 40 times to each other trying to figure out who had called who.  Molly eventually hung up. 

We tried again, this time getting someone again who was making and outgoing call.

Molly: “Hello?”
Other Girl: “Sally.  You will never guess what happened.  We were just over at Jack’s house and we were walking outside and Jane and Steve were there.  We were talking about how cool it would be to take a road trip together.  Then I looked down and I saw an opossum running out from underneath the car, so I freaked out and Jane freaked out.  Then the opossum freaked out and ran right over Steve’s feet and under the house.  We were all screaming and yelling…”

At this point, Molly had already put the conversation on speakerphone and we were CRACKING up.  One of those laughs that you just remember laughing cause it makes your abs hurt the next day.  Other Girl heard us laughing.

Other Girl: “I KNOW!! It’s so funny, right?!?!”
Molly:  It is so funny, but I’m not Sally.
Other Girl: Huh?
Molly: I’m not Sally.
Other Girl: [disgusted] You’re not Sally.
Molly: [Laughing] No!

Other Girl hangs up.  Pretty much amazing.  It was also a bit:

Ten on Tuesday

Head on over to the snowiest blog on the block for more Ten on Tuesday: http://rootsandrings.wordpress.com/

1. What is your favorite kind of cheese?

My favorite’s gouda!

2. Do you prefer fudge with or without nuts?

No nuts. Or fudge. Instead, potatoes. Deep fried.

3. How do you feel about cats?

I hate them. So much.

4. Meg Ryan or Julia Roberts?

Used to be Meg Ryan until she up and cheated on that hunka hunka burnin’ love that is Dennis Quaid. I mean, really, WHO DOES THAT? So now Julia Roberts. Until I saw “Closer”. Yikes!!!

5. Do you wear a watch?

No. I used to. But I used to also weigh about 100 lbs. So my old watch that was basically children’s sized doesn’t fit my normal sized wrist now.

6. What are a few of your favorite songs from the 90′s?

Bombs Over Baghdad. I know every. single. word.

7. Do you like scented candles?

I LOVE them! But I always go cheap and buy the crappy ones that only smell for like 10 minutes. And then I am mad. So I buy more crappy ones. If I’d just splurge for the Yankee or Wood Wick candles to begin with, we wouldn’t have this problem.

8. What do you like on your hamburger?

Everything and then some: tomatoes, lettuce, pickles, extra pickles, grilled onions, mustard, ketchup, mayo. Then some more pickles.

9. How often do you cut your fingernails?

I usually bite them off and then file them to make up for my transgressions.

10. Do you sleep in socks?

Kind of. I sleep in these:

John bought them for me for Christmas and gave them to me early. Yes, he bought me a gift that now causes me to sleep with no skin showing below my neckline. He may not have thought that one through completely. Oh well, I’m comfy!

Merry Christmas!!

 

From the Campbell Family!!  (Minus Molly who said she didn’t look good enough for a staged photo and plus Bridget who was sent in Molly’s place to look like my wife.  Yes.  That happened.)

Sincerely,
John

Seven Quick Takes

1. I chopped off all my hair last weekend. Okay, not all of it. But a good 6 inches or so.

2. John gave me one of my Christmas presents early. Just a hint: Jack and I can now be twins when we wear our PJs.

3. John refuses to take his keys out of his pocket when he comes home from work. At least once a night, sometimes more than once, he sets off the alarm on the car by accidentally pressing the “panic” button the keychain in his pocket. It drives me bonkers. BONKERS. He refuses to just take his flippin’ keys out of his pocket when he gets home.

4. I am officially selling all my clothes that no longer fit me this weekend. He was in me for 9 months. He’s been out for 9 months. Shockingly, I’m still not a size 2. I’m fine with that. Now it’s time to get rid of all these beautiful clothes that just make me feel bad about myself.

5. But my new PJs make me feel awesome about myself!!!!!

6. I got a new hairdryer this week. My old one singed my hair off repeatedly. The next one was so loud that I thought it would deafen me. I finally searched for “quiet hairdryer, not too hot” on the google and found one! I love it.

7. I need to write out my Christmas cards this weekend. I also need to go sell all those clothes. I also need to get one last Christmas present. I also need to go grocery shopping. I also need to ship back Jack’s broken high chair, John’s family’s Christmas presents, and a package for a friend. I need to write Thank You notes. I need to do laundry. I need to vacuum. I need to make baby food. And I need to find a suit that fits me since, as you may have gathered from #4, none of my old ones fit anymore. Should be a nice, relaxing weekend. Womp Womp.

A Whole Lot of Grammatically Incorrect.

If you know me, you likely know my feelings on a lot v. a lot. OH MY GOSH! It won’t let me post it! It keeps autocorrecting! I want to say a lot in one word “a lot”. Man! A LOT.

Well how do you like that? I was going to do an entire post on how I have always known that you should spell it with two words but that, as a young lass, I developed an affinity to spelling it as one single word. I thought it “looked” prettier or something. Then it just kind of stuck. And I hated spelling it “correctly” because I thought that spelling it in one word (WHICH LIVEWRITER WON’T LET ME DO! HMPH!!!) was just plain better.

Well, then this chick had to go and make a whole blog post making fun of me:

http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html

But here’s the thing: I don’t think I’m spelling it correctly when I spell a lot as one word. I was a legal writing associate, I know how to spell. I just think I’m rocking a more exciting spelling of it, that’s all. I mean, my love for the one word a lot is even part of my “about me” on my facebook profile. It runs that deep, y’all. My close friends even know that, in an email to me, using it as two words is basically a nonstarter. It just can’t happen.

But here Hyperbole and a Half goes making fun of my mad love for the single word of a lot. And, of course, I can’t use the one word magic in my job as an attorney. I can’t put an asterisk next to each time I spell it and note that yes, I know how to spell it “correctly” but I just like my spelling better. So I’ve had to either use other options (“quite frequently”, “quite a few”, etc.) or bite the bullet and spell it how this daggummed livewriter is forcing me to: a lot.

Err….but there’s a secret, friends. A deep dark secret that I’m just now sharing with the world. Recently, I’ve kind of developed an admiration for the two word version. I mean really, you’re talking about a whole lot of something. “I’d like a lot of hugs” for instance. Picture it! A lot. I picture an acre. Or a parking lot. Or some other kind of vacant lot. And you’re telling me that we’re gonna fill that sucker with a hugs? A whole lot of hugs? For me? That’s freaking spectacular! Or wait, a lot of time? An entire lot filled with time? Yes, please! A lot of tissues? Why, of course, Costco! Don’t mind if I do. There’s just something brilliant about picturing a “lot” filled with something. And I started thinking that I maybe, just maybe, liked a lot better than alot (ha ha! check it out! If I cut and paste from an email, it lets me do it!). But then I saw Hyperbole and a Half’s visual of alot. And I’m back to my old ways in just an instant. Yes, the visual of a lot of something is neat. But let’s face it. That alot thing is cute. A whole lot of cute.

Pappy.

December 7th has always been an important day in my family. Pearl Harbor Day. The day that will live in infamy. And the day that made my Grandpa (“Pappy”) become defined by a single word: badass.

My Grandpa Miller was a troublemaker of a kid. At 17, he was ordered by a judge to either join the military or go to jail. He chose the former. At just 17, he was stationed at Pearl Harbor in December of 1941. He was quite the fan of motorcycles (or motor-cicles, as he used to call them).  There he was, in Hawaii, having a drink or seven in a bar. Two Japanese guys were in the bar bragging about how nice their motorcycles were. Pappy, never one to be outdone, started talking about how he could kick their butts on any bike. He may or may not have wobbled out of the bar, gotten on one of the bikes, and rode it up and down the steps of the Japanese embassy. He also may or may not have crashed it and got thrown in the brig (jail) of the USS Utah, the ship on which he was stationed in Pearl Harbor.

He woke up the morning of December 7 with a hangover and a court martial. Soon enough, he heard the bombs dropping and destroying the ships around him. The guard in charge of the brig ran upstairs even though the officer of the ship had commanded him to release all prisoners. Pappy yelled at the guard and he threw the keys back at him and yelled, “Save yourselves!” Pappy was able to reach the keys and release himself. As he was climbing up the ladder, another guy grabbed him and pulled him down and went up ahead of him; I guess he wanted to beat grandpa up and get safe before Pappy could. Unfortunately, right as he ascended onto the ship deck, he was literally cut in two by the Japanese fire. His hurry saved my grandpa’s life.

Pappy’s captain later told him that Pappy shouldn’t have gotten a court martial, he should have gotten a medal of honor for the first attack on the Japanese in WWII.

Growing up, my Pappy always intimidated me. He was the old guy who rolled up on his Harley Davidson with a pocket knife and a gruff voice. As I got into my teens, I realized what a rockstar he was. Not many kids could say that their grandpa was the oldest HOG member in the country. I could.

A few months before he died, PBS asked Grandpa to tell his story to air on TV and to show High School students for years to come. The story only ended up being about three minutes because he cursed every other word and they had to cut out all the “inappropriate” stuff. I remember sitting there with him on the couch as he was telling his story. Someone asked him what the ships were like in Pearl Harbor. His response? “Whores. We had all sorts of whores.” Big shocker that they couldn’t air the whole story.

There was nothing quite like that old man. My sister tells the story of taking him to Spaghetti Works for lunch and Pappy walked up to some old guy and said, “Sam? Sam Anderson?” The guy replied, “No, that’s not me. I’m Jim Smith.” Grandpa looked at him, puzzled, and then finally replied, “Oh. Well you’re as ugly as that son of a bitch!” and walked away.

Yes, my grandpa may not have been the most appropriate guy on the face of the earth, but I couldn’t be more proud to call that man my Pappy.

Ten on Tuesday

My son is 9 months old today. Someone please tell me how this happened.

Be sure to go to Roots and Rings for the Ten on Tuesday run down. It’s December…so you know what that means: SNOW! Snow over at Roots and Rings, people! SNOW ON A BLOG! My word, this technology is something else!

1. What do you order at Starbucks?

Tall or Short Skinny Cinnamon Dolce Latte.

2. Where is your favorite place to eat breakfast?

Vidlaks. There aren’t any good little mom and pop breakfast places in San Antonio though. There’s the Magnolia Pancake Haus and lots of little taco shops but I want a place where I can get an omlet and hashbrowns for $4 like you can at the places in Omaha.

3. Are you on Twitter? Why or why not?

Yes, I am. Mostly so I can follow Lord Voldemort’s tweets. Yes, I said it.

4. What is your favorite Christmas movie?

National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.

5. Are you a good gift giver?

No. I am TERRIBLE at it. Terrible. My roomie/bestie Allison is AMAZING at it. She always gets you something that you mentioned in passing or something and she’s awesome. Me? I’d rather get giftcards for people so they can buy things they actually want rather than the random assortment of crap I put together in an effort to be thoughtful.

6. Do you like your handwriting? Bonus points for posting a picture.

I suspect that this question stems from a conversation Chelsea and I had about Christmas cards wherein I told her that I hate writing on Christmas cards because I hate my handwriting. And I do. No picture though….

7. Is your signature legible? Bonus points for posting a picture.

Nope. It’s my first initial, middle initial, and last name all scribbled together. I have to sign lots of documents and letters so I need something fast and sloppy.

8. Have you ever been to New York during Christmas season?

I’ve been in September and January, I think that’s about as close as it gets.

9. Are there any items that you are completely brand loyal?

Tampons. That’s a fact.

I think that’s about it though. I can pretty much swap brands on anything else, I think.

10. Who is your favorite public speaker?

I just asked John, “Who’s my favorite public speaker?” His response?

“Obama bin—Obama Barak—Barack Obama. Barack Obama.”

a) Barack Obama is not my favorite anything.

b) John called his beloved Obama “bin” something? His party would be so disappointed in him.

c) John now swears that this conversation didn’t happen. It did. Less than a minute ago.

Monday, Monday

We finally uploaded some pictures from the last week or so. So that means…random post.

This is me and my mom trying to catch the squirrel. Yes, those are flintstone vitamins. We are big kids. Yes, those are scrubs and I’m not in the medical field. And yes, that is John taking the picture from 10 feet away. While the ladies catch the rodent.

John put on this outfit on Thanksgiving (he did the faux hawk for my little sister. She thinks they are hip. She didn’t say a word about it. John is still bitter.). Then we went into Jack’s closet to get him dressed and I said, “Oh! He can wear a sweater vest too!” and realized that it was the EXACT same one that John had on. Sheer coincidence .Awesome, sheer coincidence.

When my family sees the HP movies, we don’t mess around.

Jack just wants you to know that it feels good to be a gangsta.

Cousin playtime!

He’s on the move. 

Seven Quick Takes

1. No really, when will he stop sleeping like a 3 day old?

2. John is done with his MBA classes for this semester. THANK.GOODNESS.

3. And to celebrate, he’s going to the Big 12 Championship in Dallas. It’ll be his first overnight trip away from Jack. I wish I had been able to go this long without having to leave them both overnight. Woah, how did that smiley face become a legit frowny face and not just the emoticon that normally happens?

4. By the way, I hate emoticons. I don’t really know why I use them. But I do. All. Of. The. Time.

5. Laura had to move the lights and ornaments to the top half of the tree—Jack was having too much fun chewing on the lighting and bulbs. Our tree looks hilarious now.

6. Jack has been eating better. Granted, we pretty much have to feed him in his sleep and trick him into eating—and now not only does he wake up multiple times a night, but now we’ve got him hooked on the night bottles again. But I suppose a kid has to eat. As we’ve learned over the past 9 months, apparently people don’t need as much sleep as they think they do.

7. I am babysitting both Brady and Jack for 12 hours on Sunday. This should be interesting…

My Mom Loves Baby Food.

I mean really, what other witty title could I come up with? The truth is the truth: my mom loves baby food.

It’s quite disgusting really. But since she doesn’t read my blog (I know, I think it’s rude too!) I can tell you all about it without fear that she will be embarrassed that I’ve aired her secret to all of my faithful readers. All two of you. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, right?

As you know, Jack doesn’t eat well. In fact, he’s even begun losing weight. We were doing so well there for awhile, too! But alas, he has decided that he hates his formula and simply will not eat it. One day before Jack went on this complete hunger strike and we could still get him to eat 2 oz here and there, my mom watched him for a couple hours. I got back and she told me that Jack had eaten six ounces.

“Six ounces?!?! How in the heck did you get him to eat that much???”

“I added some of his baby food to it. It tastes disgusting! No wonder he doesn’t like it. Did you taste it? You need to add something to it so that it doesn’t taste so bad!”

a) Brilliant! Add flavor to it!

b) Of course I didn’t taste it. It’s for a baby. And I’m not a baby. Plus, it’s stinky. I don’t want to taste it. Besides, it’s prescription. And if my State Champion college After Dinner Speech taught me anything, it was that peer medication was a big no no.

So we began the process of adding a bit of organic apple juice to every bottle. Now, I am not a fan of getting Jack hooked on the goods. The goods, of course, being juice. But hey, it’s either get him hooked on juice and cavities within a couple years or let him starve. And after all, I’ve always viewed this first set of teeth as the “practice ones” anyway.

So after a few days of thinking that my mother tasting my baby’s food was a one time thing, she watched him again for a few days while Laura was on vacation. I came in the house one day to pick Jack up and mom told me that the baby food I make for Jack is really good. Of course, I logically assumed that she said this because Jack liked it.

Nope. She did.

Apparently every time Jack got some food, so did Grandma Mac. There was one time when I was over that I actually had to tell her to STOP eating Jack’s food out of his bowl. Is this for real? Is this real life? I mean, she’s only 60. I don’t think it’s time to move to the pureed foods quite yet. But she was just so excited about it.

She eventually told me the reason: when she was little, she and her cousin Julie would go to the grocery store and pick out treats. Then they’d climb to the top of the local hike trail and sit above the city. There, they’d pull out their treat and reward themselves for their workout. Their treat? You guessed it: two jars of baby food each. When mom was eating some of Jack’s baby food, she even called her cousin to brag about her delicious meal.

The kicker of all of this? She thinks I’m crazy for NOT trying Jack’s food. That’s right: I’m the crazy one. She says that I’m his mom, I should be tasting his food to make sure it’s okay. I say that I have his grandma for that. And from what I hear, it all tastes more than okay.