You may recall in my numerous posts about weight loss my mentioning that the Hubby currently has me beat in this department. I don’t know exactly how he did it, but he managed to drop somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 pounds. Meanwhile, I’m still struggling to lose the rest of my weight. But that’s beside the point. Hubby’s weight loss resulted in dropping a pants size. Well, technically it was more than one pants size, but we all know when men gain some weight they refuse to go up a size and just squeeze into their current pants hoping to lose the weight at some point. So, all his pants were too big. And because he also didn’t want to rush out and buy pants in his new, smaller size he decided to just use a belt. Of course, he needed new belts because the old ones were too big. So this brings me to his recent business trip. During the airport security portion of his check-in he set off the metal detector with his new belt. This resulted in having to remove the belt. Can you see where I’m going with this? That’s right, his pants fell down. Right down to ankle level while bending over to remove his shoes. Apparently the removal of one’s belt, shoes, keys, and laptop out of the bag is not only a huge hassle under normal circumstances, it’s downright impossible while trying to hold your pants up. It’s also hilariously entertaining to the other passengers waiting in line. Frankly, I can hardly see straight to type this I’m laughing so hard and I wasn’t even there to witness it.
But of course, the real issue here is my intense jealousy over my husband’s ability to even have this problem in the first place.
I’d love to share with you all a witty take on The Night Before Christmas complete with amusing anecdotes about last minute gift wrapping, baking, and housecleaning mixed with holiday merriment, but since I didn’t have time to write it (what with all the last minute gift wrapping, baking, housecleaning and holiday merriment) I thought I’d share some pictures of the season.
For those regular readers and friends and family who are aware of our usual Christmas Tree tradition, I thought I'd let you know that for once we actually found a tree we liked that was tall enough and cut it down this year. Yes, it's a Christmas Miracle.
Also, Teenager is especially festive sporting a Rudolph-like pimple on the end of his nose, however he refused to allow a photo and my pleading “Come on! It’s for the blog!” seemed to make no difference to him. Teenagers.
Merry Christmas everyone!
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Has this ever happened to you? Let’s say your thighs are not your best feature. Let’s say you are the “pear shaped” sort who gains your weight in your hips/thighs rather than around the middle (apple). Now let’s say you gained an inordinate amount of pregnancy weight and it all went to your thighs. Okay, maybe a tiny bit formed a small “muffin top” but the vast majority; thigh city. And by "city" I mean they could claim to be their own city, each of them. So, you are forced to buy bigger pants because you know, you have to wear pants. And it goes a little something like this; enter dressing room, take off existing pants and close your eyes because you do not want to see your thighs in the “funhouse” mirror complete with fluorescent lighting and the extra special rear view you get from the mirrors at all angles. So you do this little thing where you say quietly to yourself “Don’t look, don’t look, just don’t look!” And then, because it’s like a train wreck type scenario, you look.
As I was thinking about writing a being thankful type of post a lot of various emotions came up. First of all, although I think instinctively most of us know there is always much to be thankful for, in a world today with so much negative going on, particularly the economy, we might have to look a little harder. Of course the biggest things are obvious. To me (and I’m sure many others) its family; no question about it my spouse and children are the biggest things I’m thankful for.
As far as the rest of the list, I’ve had to learn to take a different look at things. This actually ties in with something I’ve been thinking of a lot lately. I think a lot of people tend to look toward the things they wished they had and look right past the things they already have. I know this is something I do and I’ve been trying to be much more conscious of this and modify my thinking. It’s easy to make a mental list of the things we want and do that old “I’ll be happy when I have this” thing. I’m not simply talking of material things here, but events occurring and other intangibles; “I’ll be happy when this finally happens”, etc. I’m incredibly guilty of this, I fully admit it.
With this economy there is a general decrease and downgrading in pretty much everything across the board within our family and of course many others out there. It becomes even harder to deal with this when you realize that not everyone is taking a similar hit. I have a hard time when I see all around me folks who are, for example, still able to take vacations. We haven’t had one of those since before the baby was born and even then the last one did not qualify (Let’s just says when you’re 8 months+ pregnant in the heat of the summer almost nothing qualifies as a vacation unless it involves significant pampering and a pool. And the pool was closed. I don’t think I need to say more.) Yes, we wish some things were different. We’d like to be able to take a vacation. We wish things were different with our extended families and that there was more of a connection and closeness. I wish I did not have to squeeze through the laundry room on the way to the garage like a gopher trying to get out of his hole. And we could really use a new refrigerator. On top of that I’m bemoaning the incredibly unfortunate timing of a year of decreased income and two cars that both need tires. Right before Christmas.
But I need to get back to my point; that whole being thankful thing.
As much as I look at others who are doing better and wish for things we do not have and perhaps never will have I’m strongly reminded that of course there are those that are doing worse than we are and do not have the things we have and perhaps never will.
I guess it comes down to a balance between it could be better and it could be worse.
And just being thankful.
Though I still struggle to lose, I am thankful that I have managed to maintain my weight. Because I could be even bigger if I wasn’t watching it.
Though we wish for many things to be different or better about our home, I am so thankful to have it. Also, the new pantry helps a lot and I am extremely thankful for that! I am also thankful for the food in it.
Even though it’s really a stretch financially, I am thankful for being a SAHM even with all its sacrifices and struggles.
Though I may be less than thrilled with this whole getting older thing; I am thankful for the wisdom and experience my forty-one years have brought me. I would not trade my forty-something mind even for my twenty-something body. (Well, on most days anyway.)
I am thankful for friends who truly care.
And this list is clearly not in order as I’ve saved the most important for last:
I am thankful for a husband who is truly my Prince Charming.
I am thankful for my miracle baby who has rounded out my life and brought excitement and joy into everyday living.
I am thankful for my firstborn son who has grown into such a fantastic young man who makes me so proud.
Happy Thanksgiving.
In the pre-dawn hours of this morning, little guy got into bed with us for snuggling before we had to get going for the day. The following dialogue took place:
LG: Daddy, I scared!
Daddy: Why little guy? There's nothing to be scared of.
LG: Yes! Ober dere....see?
Daddy: What? What do you see?
LG: A bat! I scared!
Daddy: There's no bat in here! There's nothing to be scared of.
LG: *pointing to my black bra dangling from the dresser knob*
See! A bat!
Daddy: *laughing* Oh! That's not a bat, that's just mommy's bra.
LG: Oh! Ok. Mommy's bat bra.
There you have it folks, my secret identity revealed. Now if you'll excuse me, I just saw the bat signal and I need to go fight crime.
but I actually made it to 8! 
Last year was little guy’s first walking Halloween (he learned to walk in November of the previous year so he just missed it!) However, last year he could not say Trick or Treat or even a reasonable facsimile. This year, he said Trick or Treat clear as a bell and followed up his being treated with a Thank You and then….wait for it folks.... this little boy who’s been very speech delayed for so long, said so people could understand, “Happy Halloween”. This is BIG! I mean, it was such a huge moment when we heard him say it and it was so totally unexpected. As I was beaming with pride I nearly wanted to shout; “Look, you don’t understand, this little boy could not say a handful of intelligible words a very short time ago!" Of course, he added his usual touch of hilarity by also stating; “Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!” because he seems to be a bit holiday-confused.
To add to the amusement of the evening, he walked up to a teenager, dressed in all his gory best and seated by his front door handing out candy and asks him; “Are you a scary guy?” Then upon seeing a mom dressed as a witch he stated very clearly; “You are scary!” And speaking of scary, this might also be a good time to share with you all the fact that just a few short weeks ago little guy could not clearly articulate the word “scary”. He was fascinated with the life-size animated figures at the Halloween stores; aka “scary guys” which since he was unable to pronounce "scary guys" came out as “gay guys”…so for the last month leading up to Halloween he would constantly say “Let’s go see the gay guys”. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Here’s a couple Halloween photos of the Teenager and little guy.
So, it's a regular old Monday afternoon. Hubby arrives home from work and is playing with little guy who's been just dying to see his daddy. I hear chatter in the back ground as I'm busily typing away working on some writing projects. I think of something I need to share with the Hubby and look up from my computer to see this:
I think I've made my point.
I’ve listened with interest as I’ve heard various opinions about Halloween over the years. I understand that there are some folks that don’t “celebrate” it, and hey, that’s fine, whatever works for them. But I do have to admit to a little eye-rolling when I hear some folks ranting about how “evil” Halloween is. Okay, I understand its origins may be what bother some people, but honestly, do the majority of the good folks out there really celebrate Halloween in questionable ways? I just don’t think so. And for those that do stupid things, I think most would agree that they’ll do those things whether they have a “holiday” for them or not.
I love Halloween. Always have. I loved it as a kid and still do today and enjoy seeing my own kids celebrate it. I am not into the super-scary, blood and gore type stuff at all but there’s a cute ghost candle sitting on my sideboard and some other slightly-spooky-in-an-adorable-way décor items around my home. I’m not over here throwing eye of newt in a cauldron and chanting spells. Although frankly, if it helped with weight loss I might consider it, but I digress.
I don’t know, to me Halloween is one of those things that I think people take way too seriously when they say things like; “Oh, we don’t do Halloween, we don’t want to invite evil!” I think anything can be evil if you let it. Even so called “good” things…heck, all you have to do is take a look around to see that…but that’s another topic. I guess I’m of the opinion that Halloween is one of those fun little joys in life; much like chocolate, coffee, the occasional glass of wine and Sunday brunch. You know, the little things that add to life and make it that much more worth living and I’m all about life’s little joys. Especially after spending a good deal of my young adult life being deprived of life’s basic little joys and told those things were “bad”. I’ve come to the conclusion that much of what folks lump into categories of “good” or “bad” are what we make of them, not what someone tells us. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have some potions, er, I mean brownies to whip up.
Twenty four years ago next month I entered Basic Training for the United States Air Force. Looking back, waaaaay back, the whole thing seems very surreal to me. Had I remained in the military I could have been retired as of four years ago. My time was short, but full of events I’ll never forget.
The day I left for Basic Training I was armed with one rolling suitcase, a duffel bag and a full Samsonite cosmetic case. Yes, it was ridiculous. Even more than ridiculous was the fact that within that luggage was wax I brought along foolishly thinking I would somehow be given the time and opportunity to wax my legs! Remember the old movie and TV show Private Benjamin? It was kind of like that. I can still recall the outfit I was wearing….it was the 80’s and that was very apparent in my large shoulder padded blazer, black Esprit pants and leather Madonna style boots. (The older me wishes she could have told the younger me; “Throw on some jeans and a pair of tennis shoes; you’re going in the military for crying out loud!”) I was 17 years old, the very youngest in my squad. This was pretty rare and was only allowed because I had already graduated high school having skipped a year and I had my mother’s consent. I remember the woman that was the oldest; 36 (the oldest they took) and thinking; “Wow, that’s old!” (Of course I passed 36 five years ago, and no, it’s not old at all.) I was a young, naive and incredibly sensitive girl. It was against my character to do this sort of thing which became even more apparent when I arrived and we were asked to scrub the shower with our toothbrushes. There I was doing this task, I kid you not, in a full length, white, fluffy bathrobe. It just doesn’t get any more impractical than that, folks. I recall being lined up as some gruff, high ranking guy came through our squad bay asking us to recite something along the lines of: “I, Airman so-and-so, blah blah blah.” I could not get the term “Airman” in my head for some reason and my mind fixated on the common rank I knew from television, movies and such; Sergeant. I was blasted for “promoting myself” when I stated; “I, Sergeant so-and-so…..” That man really rattled me and I cried. Not the smartest move on my part. But I told myself then and there that I would simply have to toughen up. And so I did. I never broke down like that again during my military stint. Looking back I feel pretty proud that at 17, being the obviously prissy, overly sensitive girl I was, that I could make it through Basic Training. I even shot expert on the M16 along with being one of the fastest to take the thing apart, clean it and put it back together. (A skill I no longer use in any capacity.) I recall with amusement when we were issued our military style eyeglasses; black plastic horned rim beauties that were called “BC” glasses (that stood for Birth Control). Ahh, the memories! It was a very challenging time though and made even worse by the fact that I entered my training right before the holidays. I spent Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s on a cot in a squad bay. At age 17. As irony would have it, I’ve actually spent worse holidays than that since then, but that’s of course another story. I remember envying one of the girls in my Flight; her name was Shae. Shae was a girly girl like me (though vastly more attractive) and wore this perfume that I absolutely fell in love with. It was a new one that had just come out back then; Estee Lauder’s Beautiful. It remains to this day my favorite and my “signature” scent. And it reminds me a time over two decades ago when I donned a fluffy bathrobe to scrub out a military shower. Here’s a blast from the past photo for you all: this is my actual cot in my squad bay with my overflowing suitcase sitting on top.
The fact that our little guy will now actually have even somewhat of a conversation is remarkable in and of itself. We are pleased with his progress with speech and are beginning to hear more and more from him all the time. The following brief exchange was one of those "have to share" moments. We were asking him about our animals names; the dog, Murray and the cat, Chloe.
Us: Little Guy, what is our Doggie's name?
LG: Murwy.
Us: Good job! Now what is our Kitty's name?
LG: Cat!
I guess the combination of "chl" was way too much to ask for at this point!
Now that little guy is learning more and more words and even knocking out a few sentences look for more upcoming episodes of "Conversations with Little Guy"! As always, he's sure to entertain.
A close up view of the little guy in "jail":
And while I'm sharing a couple Ren Faire photos, doesn't this one of the Teenager pretty much say; "My parents dressed me up in this ridiculous costume, dragged me to this stupid Faire and now I have to pull my little brother in this wagon all day." Yep, that's about what it says all right.
I recently stumbled across this video and wanted to share it with you. Isn't it interesting to see how making something fun can make such a positive difference?
Take a look at this photo and see if you can tell what is happening and spot the main character(s). Since everything looks so camouflaged I thought it would make an interesting puzzle of sorts. Scroll down for the story/explanation.
Our cat Chloe is seen in the far left hand bottom corner. She's waiting for something to occur with the neighbor cat who is perched on a fence board in the far right hand upper corner. This is the same cat who was spotted a few months ago on our hillside by our dog Murray. Apparently, this cat is not afraid of confrontation.
Around here it's been noted that I have occasionally frequently come up with some elaborate, zany, far-fetched ideas (otherwise known as my "I-Love-Lucy" ideas) which generally involve things that the Hubby is less than enthusiastic about providing assistance for. My latest plan revolved around getting the boys pictures taken; something we do each year, generally in the Fall. This year I wanted to do something interesting and unique but also classic looking. So my idea was to have them sit amongst piles of classic literature and other old and classic looking books. When I pitched this particular brainstorm to Hubby he did some eye rolling, along with a fair amount of griping about how much of a pain this was going to be. Because in order to accomplish this, we had to pull out all of our books that fit this look (newer, glossy looking books were not going to work) and even borrowed a bunch from a dear friend. When all was said and done we had a couple hundred pounds of books to haul to the photo shoot. Once this was discovered by the Hubby there was a significant increase in the griping. To accomplish our task we used our two large rolling suitcases filled with the books and rolled them into the photo studio. We basically had just enough people to do this; Teenager and Dad with the two suitcases and me pushing the little guy in the stroller. It took quite a bit of "set up" work to get everything together, but in the end we were very pleased with the outcome. We were originally going to go with a black and white or sepia tone but ended up with a "retro" tone which is like a cross between black and white and color, leaving some color but overall toning down the look.
Now that this year's photos are over Hubby has already started worrying about what I'll come up with for next year...he's just hoping it doesn't involve renting a trailer and live animals.
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