The Day After

There is something about Christmas Day that sends my OCD into tingling overdrive.

The wrapping paper, the explosion of toys, the chaos.  Oy!

By December 26th I’m more than ready to take down the tree, reorganize the kids’ rooms to fit all the new stuff, and make my house resemble some sort of normalcy.

I love Christmas – don’t get me wrong!  But, the magic and prettiness of the holiday usually ends for me the morning after as I sip coffee and survey the damage.  I get urges to go buy bins, bust out my label maker, pack it all up, and bid the whole thing a fond farewell until next year.

I took last week off from my dissertation so I could enjoy my kids, make cookies, and appreciate what it means to slow down.

Well, last week is over.  I’ve got crap to do.  It’s time to back this baby up and regain some orderliness.

Because if my OCD is going to continue tingling like this it better plan to buy me a drink before I can get any more relaxed.

The Worst Christmas Song. Ever.

Happy Holidays – you mother is going to die!!!

This is seriously the most depressing Christmas song ever written.  I’m sure it’s supposed to have some deeper meaning about giving and love at the holidays, but for the most part it craps on your day just as bad as that Sarah McLachlan commercial

And when it’s all said and done I’m sure the mortuary stole the new fancy shoes, returned them to WalMart and used the money to buy a swanky new Fry Daddy.

I can totally make that joke because my brother is a mortician.

I’m sure they don’t really do that though.  Right, Josh?

Happy Holidays!

Proof I’m ready for retirement

Yep.  I did it.  I have proof that I’ve achieved the highest mothering ability.  The student has become the master and I can retire from motherhood gracefully.  
I managed to get a shot of all three kids with Santa and nobody is crying, frowning, looking away, blinking, or picking something inappropriate.  
Booyah!

I imagine the rest of this gig is just gravy.

Lazy Sunday My Tooshie!

I was at the grocery store by 7:37 this morning to do the weekly shopping.  Yes, I looked at the clock because I wanted to document the exact time I realized I was crazy.

I was home and had the groceries put away by 9:00 am.  Then we dressed and rushed to church where I sat for an hour and wondered if I’d be able to get through to our garbage company on Monday morning to cancel our service in favor of another cheaper company.  Every time I call them nobody answers.  I’m pretty sure they’re associated with the mafia and they’re too busy buying bodies in the dump on the other side of the county to allow me to cancel service.  Or, perhaps they’re hiding the bodies of those folks that got through on the phone and this is the universe telling me to just pay the damn bill for the chance to live.

The afternoon was filled with finishing the holiday shopping, catching a woman hitting our car in the mall parking lot, and realizing the the world is full of douche bags that don’t know how to give a courtesy wave.  But, the shopping is done.  Other than a few small goodies for stockings that I can pick up anywhere, I won’t have to grace the mall area until after the holiday season.  That’s a freaking miracle.

Once home I spent a couple hours doing all kinds of crafty shit for the preschool party that I’m in charge of later in the week.  I’m not very crafty so I forced my in-laws to help by sitting at my kitchen table and punching out foam stickers and cutting out circles with play dough scissors.  It was like my own little holiday sweat shop complete with my daughter singing The Holly and The Ivy off key in the background.

Somewhere in there I ate a sandwich and slipped my father-in-law some leftover birthday cake.  We were so smooth in our transaction that we could so be drug dealers.  The kids were completely unaware and the grown-ups can continue living with the shame and knowledge of eating all the leftover birthday cake when the little ones are asleep.  

Now I’m wearing mismatched pajamas and watching Cupcake Wars with a cup of coffee.  I’ll be helping my husband get ready for his morning trip to Philadelphia here soon and then I’ll be crashing in the bed.  What will the upcoming week bring!? Oh, just your typical karate, ballet, piano, preschool, holiday school parties x’s 3, pajama days, boy scout pack meetings, girl scout meetings, some data analysis, and a partridge in a pear tree week.

FaLaLaLaLaLaLaLaLa.

Making Life Easier: A Husband’s Guide to Christmas

Dear Hubby,

You’ve asked me several times what I would like for Christmas.  To make things as easy as possible I decided to just create a list for you…with pictures…and links.

See, I’m generous like that.   Here goes…

1.  A new apron.  Something feminine and pretty.

3.  Any and all seasons of The Big Bang Theory
4.  A chair and a half with an ottoman.  It’s probably not a good idea to purchase something like this without me.  I’m just saying..

Now, because I’m so wonderful and kind enough to make this list for you, I suggest you never, ever put your finger in my ear again in an attempt to do a wet willy or you’ll find me shopping for genital replacements for you this holiday season. Smooches.

Love,
Your Wife

Grown-up Christmas List

I heard a song on the radio the other day – one of those sappy holiday songs on the local radio station that place nothing but Christmas songs from Thanksgiving to Christmas that you can’t seem to turn off even though you’d rather gag than hear that damn Paul McCartney Christmas song one. more. time.

I digress.

Anyway, the song I heard was all about a Grown-up Christmas wish list and I decided hey! I wanna make one of those!


I suppose I could make a list about all the wishes I have for world peace and orphaned animals to find homes and people to be so happy they have rainbows and unicorns shooting out their yin-yangs.

But, instead I’m going to be totally materialistic because it’s my blog and I can.  So there.

First up:  The leg lamp.

I want.  Oh, do I want.  It’s eclectic and weird and I love it!

Second, these boots:

I have high hopes and dreams that wearing these might actually make my 32 year old legs look as good as the plastic ones on the lamp.  I have low expectations.  
Third, one of these:

Hubby says no puppy.  But that doesn’t stop me from wanting one.  Dear Santa, I want a puppy.  Love, Neena

p.s.  I’d name her LuLu.

p.p.s  I have no uterus – does that score me points at all?

Fourth, Matthew Morrison:

He would be my stocking stuffer.  *snort*

Fifth, Eclipse on DVD

No judgment!

That’s about it for the moment.

And, for the record – I do want world peace, orphaned animals to find homes, and everyone to live in a world of rainbows and unicorns.

See, I’m not totally heartless.

School break! School break!

I’m officially on a school break for Thanksgiving.  I finished up my assistantship duties Thursday afternoon, drove home in an unbreakable bliss, and prepared myself for 10 days of freakin’ awesomeness!

As much as I hate to schedule my break down to the minute – I feel it is absolutely necessary to squeeze in the plethora of crap important stuff I have to do.  So, I’m making a list…

Friday (today) – sleep in until at least 6:30, drink 2 cups of coffee, prepare the gigantic holiday grocery list, nap, and avoid leaving the house by any means possible.  *This probably means that one child will get sick or hurt and I’ll be in the ER for several hours*  Grocery shop at night with no children!

Saturday – Hubby and son are planning an all day Star Wars marathon.  I’m going to Whole Foods to buy a Turkey.  I’ll return after Episode 3 or 6 – depending on the order they plan to watch them.  Apparently that, itself, is a can of worms.  Pull a Gilmore Girls and order the entire chicken column of the Chinese take-out menu.

Sunday – domestic duties abound!  And, at least 4 or 5 hours dedicated to writing my final paper and preparing my documents to take COMPS in the Spring.  *COMPS are written exams one must pass before becoming an official doctoral candidate.  They are the devil.*

Monday – Hubby goes to work and I pull my eyebrows out by 9:00 AM.  Anyone want to plan a play date?  I’ll also be helping the kids with their holiday charity project.

Tuesday: I’m hoping to convince my in-laws to borrow the children for the day so I can finish up that paper I so diligently started on Sunday.  *In-laws, if you’re reading this do you wanna take my kids???*

Wednesday: Pending any eyebrows left I’ll allow the children to help with Thanksgiving prep – making pies and whatnot.

Thursday:  Cook for hours only to eat for 30 minutes.   (and force Hubby to pull down all the holiday decorations)

Friday: Up early for my first ever Black Friday shopping experience.  We’ll spend the afternoon decorating the house with the girls in charge of the inside and the boys in charge of the outside.

Saturday:  Pray for the return of school for the children.  Hide in the bedroom.  Finish that final paper with copious amounts of liquor because I’ll inevitably spend Tuesday on Twitter.

Sunday:  Curse leftover turkey, complain that the break went too fast, and try, again, to convince Hubby that the holidays are a perfect time to adopt a Golden Retriever.

What does your schedule look like???

I’m definitely NOT 22 anymore!

Last night Hubby and I had some old friends over.  We made chili, let the kids run wild, and laughed our way through the evening.

Oh, and we drank.

We drank lots.

These friends of ours, well, they must be fish.

This morning was…bad.

I began the ritual of many aspirin and hours of hydration.  I’m just now beginning to feel less like something you’d find on the bottom of your shoe after a night in a seedy bar.

Glamorous, I know.

But, even with the horrible hangover, I had a great time!  And, even though I’m not 22 anymore, I’m glad I can still cut lose from time to time!

Thanks, guys!  I needed that!

Want to know what pure torture looks like?

It looks like this:
Your kids sitting and staring at their Easter goodies while you and your Hubby stuff your faces with coffee and cream cheese danishes, refusing to allow them even one inch closer to the loot.  

I also learned a couple very valuable lessons this holiday weekend that I’m actually surprised I did not pick up on earlier.  Now that I know this rule I feel the need to pass it along for the sanctity of all future photos.  
When it comes to any holiday where the children will be opening something or participating in something first thing in the morning remember to put on a bra prior to your husband busting out the camera.  And, should your husband be in charge of any photo opportunities be prepared to download about 22 pictures of your ass.  

You’re welcome.  

Tis the season of…

  • too many choices for a simple holiday card
  • OMG my eyes are going bad from online shopping!
  • that cannot possibly cost that much!?
  • I need a Bat Cave now!
  • Damn old lady stole my parking spot!
  • dealing with all that isn’t possibly worth saving a couple bucks!
  • pie! oh, man, do I love pie!
  • I’ll look down that isle and you look down this isle and we’ll meet back in 5! Break!
  • being the parents of young kids.