Christmas, Part 2

Finally, it was Christmas Eve.  My sister put on a traditional Swedish dinner as she always does, and I ate enough meatballs to make my tummy ache.  I then squelched the aching with a giant bowl of rice pudding – or maybe I intensified it – not important.  Quit trying to make me feel bad for being a porker.

After dinner, Santa came to visit.  Eva was terrified and clung to my leg shivering in fear.  She wouldn’t go near the old boy and kept him in her line of sight until he was safely out the front door.  She seemed worried that Santa would sneak up behind her and cause some sort of bodily harm.  I, on the other hand, had no problem jumping on Santa’s lap.  I had many presents to request; a million bucks and a karaoke machine to name a couple.

On Christmas morning another Santa arrived.  Eva called him Santa baby all day.  He really was adorable. 

We opened lots of presents and spent the balance of the day eating leftovers and visiting loved ones.  What a wonderful day.

Santa managed to bring my mommy a diamond necklace but my million bucks and karaoke machine were not under the tree.  Suspicious?  I think so. 

Everyone was going sledding in the afternoon but we were already putting Eva down for a nap when the plans were in motion.  I was grateful because I didn’t want to be outside in the frigid temperature.  Eva awoke shortly after everyone left and begged to go sledding.  I volunteered Myke to take her, a proposition that upset him.  We ended up going together instead and I’m actually really glad we did.  Eva loved it.  She didn’t notice that it was cold outside; she didn’t mind that I rolled over top of her on one of our runs and slammed her little face into the snow; she didn’t even care that her cheeks were blazing red from the biting wind; she just wanted to go sledding.  I was grateful to witness her excitement.

Then, all too swiftly, the sad moment arrived when we packed up the car to head home.  I found a stow-away in my luggage and hastily kicked that one-eyed freak to the curb.

I always feel emotional about leaving and worked to suppress my tears.  When I settled into the car I slipped into my sunglasses and began my ritualistic sobbing session.  I hate to say good-bye.

Eva didn’t have any problem leaving.  She was safely strapped into her car seat munching on Cheetos and watching a movie.  She was oblivious to the gloominess of her mama.

I was fine a couple of hours later and settled in to the long drive ahead.  We made it home safely where Santa had left a dollhouse under our tree for Eva.  What a magnificent surprise after 13 hours in the car.

An even better surprise would have been a million bucks and a karaoke machine. 

You owe me, Santa.  You owe me.

Merry Christmas!

Christmas, Part 1

Warning!  This post is obsenely lengthy.  You can decide your own fate with this one.

What a spectacular Christmas vacation we had!  I love being home with family and I especially love being home with family for the holidays.  Eva experienced many firsts on this trip: her first snowman, sledding excursion, fire engine ride, encounter with Santa, being a judge at the gingerbread house competition, Cheetos, and Swedish Christmas Eve dinner.  (Side note: We’re not Swedish.  My brother-in-law is.  Do I look like someone who enjoys eating caviar from a tube?)

We had such fun that I was sad when the week was over so quickly.  I was especially sad about riding in the car for 13 hours each way. 

What follows is an explosion of pictures.  I give myself a hearty pat on the backside for being such a diligent photographer.  I usually suck at capturing sweet memories. 

Here goes Christmas 2015!

We pulled out of our driveway at 4:45 a.m.!  It was dark and cold outside but it was nice to be on the road early.  Eva slept most of the morning so that made it pleasant for all involved.  We always stop in Pendleton to stretch our legs at the same gas station.  Sasquatch Santa was there to greet us.

Once we arrived in Idaho, we straightaway had to play in the snow.  (By “we” I mean Michael.  I’ve been in the snow and I don’t care for it.)  He patiently built a snowman for Eva and let his fingers turn to icicles.  I patiently stood on the porch and snapped pictures.  Then I patiently went inside to make almond roca with my mommy in the warm kitchen.  You’ll notice Eva still has her nagging cough in some of the photos.  I don’t think something like a little cough should stop a person from playing in the snow.  My mom didn’t have any carrots and Eva was quite concerned that her snowman didn’t have a carrot nose.  We gave her a dissertation on the value of being unique and how not every snowman needs a carrot nose.  She seemed dubious but let it go.

On another night we went to the museum with one of my sissies and my parents to see a collection of nativities.  The best part was the prime rib dinner Dad bought for us before we arrived at the museum.  It tasted like Christmas.  If Chrtistmas tastes like a delicous slab of juicy beef.

I also had many opportunites to snuggle my brother Jeff’s new baby.  He was very generous in letting me bogart the baby.  He was also very gnenerous by offering to take us for a ride in a fire engine.  We loaded up with Jeff, my other brother Jameson, their wives and sons, and tooled around town honking the horn and blaring the sirens.  It was very exciting. 

Then it was time for the annual gingerbread house competition.  What started as a friendly family traditon has evolved into a trash-talking, high-stakes, intense rivalry.  It’s all in good fun though.  (But you are wise to sleep with one eye open the eve of the competition.)  The adults decorate the houses while the kids stay out of the room making messes somewhere else in the house.  Then the kids come down one at a time to choose their favorite house.  The winner gets a ridiculous Santa statue and bragging rights for a year.  Jeff has won the past few years so the need to dethrone the jerk was extreme.  Myke and I had the great idea to recreate the house from the movie Up.  Unfortunately, my sister Chris also had the same idea.  Really unfortunately was that she executed it better than we did.  Really, really unfortunately was that she won.  With my idea!  I think it’s time to disqualify her from the competition.  We shouldn’t have to compete with a professional pastry chef.  I’d rather compete against my other sister Rachel who always loses.  She’s a creeper and consistently does something inappropriate with her theme.  The kids never get it.  Thankfully.

And the winner:

Eva voted for our house which made me smile.  It’s nice to know at least one of those mangy kids has good taste.  Someday I will win the margarita-sipping Santa.  Someday.  

The gingerbread house competition means that soon it will be Christmas day.  Stay tuned…

Trapped Rat

My poor baby has been sick all week.  She’s been puking, feverish, coughing, and lethargic.  She’s miserable and it breaks my pebble-sized heart.

Here are some things I do not like about having a sick kid:

• Cleaning up vomit in the middle of the night.
• Cleaning up vomit during the day.
• Cleaning up vomit while the dog tries to snack on it.
• Being quarantined to the house even though I need to run important errands.  Buying acne cream is an example of an important errand.
• Watching the same Disney movie 4 times in a row.
• Being coughed on - in the face.
• Sharing my bed when I'm trying to sleep.

Here are some things I really like about having a sick kid:

• Nothing.

I'm not a weirdo.

Thankful

We wanted to escape the chilly weather for Thanksgiving and felt my sister-in-law’s house was the perfect choice.  Certainly California is warmish in the late Fall.

WRONG!

It was cold.  It felt like winter.  I felt cheated.  I kept hearing a lot of excuses from my in-laws, such as, “This is really unusual weather for us,” and “It’s usually not this cold,” and “Hey, we don’t remember inviting you,” and “Um, did you take money from our wallets?”

Despite the cold snap, we had an exceptional time in California.  As always, Christina and Chase were very gracious hosts and even better company.  Eva was especially excited to play with her cousins.  The kids were good to each other and I was grateful for that.  Eva is still talking about all the fun toys she played with and how much she loved watching Inside Out with her cousins.

Of course we ate delectable food and had some new culinary awakenings.  A smoked turkey was on the menu Thanksgiving day and Michael loved it.  He was eating like Bob Wiley and making strange noises.  He might have even peed his pants a little.  He’s convinced it’s the only decent way to consume turkey now.  We’re in discussions about that since I’m a purist when it comes to turkey.  We also had mood-altering bacon from a local grocery store.  Christina splurged for the expensive strips of pig and what a wonderful decision that turned out to be.  It was seriously the most delicious bacon I’ve ever had.  Not too salty, not too  fatty, full of yummy pork flavor – wonderful.  Don’t, however, eat said bacon and then go to the gym for boot camp.  Bad things happen to your belly and the color of your face.  Thankfully, I am not the person who learned this difficult lesson.  Once again, my laziness paid off.

We stopped in to the Sacramento Children’s Museum one afternoon.  It was the perfect way for the kids to be entertained.  Eva spent most of the time in the water exhibit.  She did make one stop to the painting station where she expertly smeared her entire sleeve with paint.  Don’t worry, it washed out.  (I know you were really worried about my laundry crisis.)

Our next adventure was choosing a Christmas tree.  We crammed all the kids in the back of the van and headed to a quaint tree farm run by a very nice family.  Although I am much too lazy to set up a real tree every year, it was fun to tag along and scope out the perfect tree for someone else.  The sun came out that day and it was a beautiful afternoon.  The fun was accentuated by a trip to Chick-Fil-A for lunch.  Oh, I love you, Chick-Fil-A.  Please build a restaurant near me.  I can single-handedly keep you profitable.






We also went to dinner at an amazing Japanese restaurant.  I can’t explain to you what the short ribs did for my taste buds.  I’m still thinking about those bad boys and their succulence.  Di-Vine.  I’m conflicted as to whether I’m glad we ate there or incredibly disappointed that now I have yet another food itch that cannot be scratched.  Darn you, Aji.

In all, it was a good trip for us.  We showed our appreciation for the hospitality by allowing our dog to destroy 2 things from the playroom.  He decided on a sleeping bag and a puppet.  Sorry, guys – our dog is an ingrate.

Happy Thanksgiving!

(And Chase: I’m glad you didn’t die while buying Craigslist tires in a seedy neighborhood.  That would have squashed the holiday mood.)

Uh, uh, uh…Happy Birfday!

I had a birthday in November.  Now I’m 36.  To celebrate entering my late thirties, I grew more wrinkles, morphed the skin under my eyes into a fetching taupey-red-bruised color, made the tinted skin puffy, gained another 10 pounds, yellowed up my teeth, and highlighted my bangs with gray hairs.  I look stunning.  When people meet me, they are always shocked that I’m 36. 

They usually think I’m much older. 

It was a fabulous birthday.  Michael had to work so Eva and I hung around doing our regular daily activities.  I baked my favorite German chocolate cake with pecan-coconut frosting and refused to do any housework.  At various times throughout the day Eva would shout, “Happy birthday, Mama!  It’s your birthday!”  That was the best part of the entire day.   

Michael was a superstar and made the evening special.  Thanks to a gift card from my dad, we went to dinner at the Outback.  My steak was perfect and even though Eva kept going underneath the table, I ignored her and didn’t let it dampen my birthday buzz.  After dinner we had cake and presents.  I love presents. 

    

Eva thought she should blow out the candles and open the presents even though it was my birthday.  I calmly read to her from the Handbook of Life what the proper protocol is when attending someone else's birthday party.  In summary, it says that you should back off and mind your own business.  And bring an extravagant gift.  She didn’t appreciate or heed the advice.

Michael bought me a deep fryer.  He’s aiding me in my goal to weigh more than a 3/4 ton pickup before I turn 40.  Actually, it was a very thoughtful gift.  Every time I fry something I complain a lot about the mess and my thermometer.  I’ve finally been rewarded for my grouching.  Now what to complain about next…

He also bought me bath salts and a big party hat and a balloon.  He did a good job.

My parents gave me money and Myke’s mom sent me lots of chocolate.  Money and chocolate are always appreciated.  I also received a lot of phone calls and texts.  I felt very loved.  And a little old.  Mostly old.

After presents there was only one thing left: CAKE

 

This is the best reason to have a birthday. 

I ate it for breakfast the next day.  And lunch.  And dinner. And every time I walked into the kitchen.  Watch out 3/4 ton pickup.  I'm on your heels.   

Happy birthday to me!