Sprite's Keeper

RTT: Still in the Christmas spirit

So, it turns out that Christmas is a time to spoil your children absolutely rotten. I thought I had done pretty decently with Sprite's presents, from the three foot tall Rapunzel mannequin which has been an almost constant companion since she opened it, to the Tag Reading System, Alice in Wonderland dress and shoes, and some smaller gifts to round out her experience. Adding to these, the gifts she received from very thoughtful aunts and uncles, and she was a pretty happy kid by the end of Christmas Day.

But when we got home, I ventured on to Facebook to see the before and after pictures of other people's Christmas trees, practically hidden by the mounds of wrapped promise sitting beneath, beside, and sometimes even dwarfing the Wisconsin Pine. I would have thought one big ticket item was enough, (Sprite's Rapunzel "sister" was $54.00, but I had a 50% off coupon for Target right before Black Friday, so our big expensive gift only cost us $27.00. In fact, I had only budgeted eighty dollars for her anyway.) but I saw pictures of kids requiring step stools to get to the top floor of their dollhouses before clicking to the next photo of the same child uncovering a bike, more dolls, a laptop, and a video game system. Of course, this is not counting the stocking stuffers. Taking a group shot of the lucky child surrounded by her grab, I counted some thirty gifts.

I understand that I'm not used to the entire Christmas experience, seeing as Hanukkah is a grand total of 8 presents, one of them a larger desired gift while the others are more educational or artsy craftsy. I asked John if he had also gotten so much as a kid and expected an answer of no, thinking the days of quantity were maybe more recent. Imagine my surprise when he rolled his eyes and smiled in memory as he recounted the one Christmas where he received the entire Star Wars collection along with the Millenium Falcon, roller skates, a bicycle, and other assorted toys. Of course, with his other two brothers also receiving their fair share of loot, I asked him if there even WAS a Christmas tree since it seemed Santa could barely leave them under the ROOF, let alone some lit branches.

So tell me, what is the typical number of presents for kids to receive on Christmas? Are all the gifts from Santa or do the parents take some of the credit? Is there a big ticket item or many?

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 Funny how no matter how much thought you put into gifts, the kids will decide on their own which stands out as the favorite. Rapunzel was shoved into her younger cousins' faces along with the required "MY Rapunzel!" and the subsequent screams of "She's touching my Rapunzel!" when a little hand or even a tiny finger reached out to touch the silken tresses, so we figured her Santa gift was the spotlight taker. Until Sunday night when she asked me to open an updated version of paper doll dress up, a somewhat plain looking plastic sleeve set containing three baby girl hard board dolls, and their assorted magnetic "clothes" pieces to mix and match. Thinking of Sprite's usual fancy for the fantastic and vibrant colors, I honestly thought this less ostentatious present would blend into the background immediately.

I opened the neverending puzzle for her and left her in her room while I began dinner, actually having control over the television for once, flipping the station from Nick JR to the DIY network. Thinking I would have a few minutes before she grew bored of her project, it shocked me when, an hour later, the oven timer chimed signaling dinner was ready, and she was still absorbed in her activity.

Furthermore, the baby dolls each needed to be dressed for bedtime when she herself was getting ready.

Best part? I didn't have to change any doll clothes.

Best Christmas gift EVER.

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Christmas Fail: Forgetting your camera. It's easy to halt the present proceedings when the camera was hastily left in the other room, but when it's two hours away? Kindly asking your mother-in-law and father and whatever relative happens to snap a pic of your child to Facebook you a copy gets a little wearing. On the photographer.

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You all know I'm Jewish. And if you didn't, um, where have YOU been?? Anyway, I have my separate beliefs, but when Christmas comes, I put them aside to enjoy the season and the revelry with my in-laws because 1. it makes them happy to have me be a part of it, and 2. it makes me happy to be a part of it and wholeheartedly encourage Sprite to be a part of it. Yes, we're raising her in my faith, but we played up Santa big time this year, shouting out Merry Christmas to every family member we came across, even the Jewish ones. (Props to my folks for responding in like when Sprite gave them smacking kisses and Christmas tidings.) I like to think of us as one big motley crew, who, when celebrating anything, take pride in the fact that we're together to do it.

What has really bugged me this season is the non-believers who, thanks to the Internet and its instant gratification, can easily cast a Bah, Humbug! into someone else's figgy Facebook pudding when they post things like "....should repaint all the parking spaces at the church into Handicapped spots just to screw with all the people who only show up twice a year for Mass" or "Merry Mythmis!" or "feels this is the year to expose Santa."

I get it, folks. You don't believe. You have uncovered the secret of Christmas for all it really is, an excuse to buy crap for relatives you really can't stomach but only have to see once a year. That's fine, if that's what you want to believe.

I used to believe that too. Until I started spending the holidays with John's family since it was important to him, and I started looking forward to these holidays, because they became important to me. I am still 100% Jewish with no intent otherwise, but when someone greets me with "Merry Christmas!", I respond with the same. I don't remind them that they should respect my faith and save their cheer for someone else, instead I hug them right back, glad to see someone else in the spirit of being together with one another, with or without presents. That, to me, is the reason for the season.

So, when I saw these statuses dotting my Facebook read, I may have put a small wish for coal in their stockings while "liking" everyone else's statuses which were more festive, and more humane.

 Somone else who's more festive and humane? Keely! Especially now that she's home from her holiday travels. Go on over and wish her a happy new year! And bring wine. I think she may need it..

Oy to the World

Twas the night before Christmas, no! Really this time!

And I was waiting out the clock, trying to finish this rhyme.

I'd been called upon for my Christmas list, and I could think of none,

For when I thought of what I wanted, what I had was one for one.

So I thought I could repeat my birthday and give my wish to you,

Since giving is always better than getting. And has a fifty percent more chance of coming true!

(5% margin of error)

So here we go with my Christmas list, and it has been checked twice,

To see which of you has been naughty, and who's been faking nice.

(You all passed.) (Some by a hair, but you passed..)

Dear Santa,

Goodfather wants his mojo back, and a job would do,

The same would go for Captain Dumbass, who asked for an IPad too.

Rachel and Kendra like their jobs just fine and get their share of praise,

But their wish for Christmas is to get complimented with a raise.

Arwen would like to see a clean house, with stacks of organized toys,

(although I don't see that happening with soon to be three boys)

Stacy asked for a cleaner house too, but she has nothing to prove,

For the best way to get that wish, my friend, is to just pick up and move. (To Seattle, that is..)

Vandy is wishing for some things that are actually in demand,

Like time and patience, less vocal stress, and a maid to lend a hand.

And Kate has been so good this year, her wishes are but few,

For a job, and insurance, a belt of liquor, and another baby too.

Ellie Belen wants some ceramic heat to help out with her tresses,

Since less time grooming would alleviate some of life's little stresses.

And Michele asked for a brand new easel to liven up her art,

So all these wishes so far, St. Nick, should be an easy start.

In fact, there are some gimmies, no work on your part,

Jan already got her Christmas wish, a full house and full heart.

Baba chimed in that hers was a no brainer too, she couldn't ask for more,

Than the love of her family and friends, what else are the holidays for?

Alaina is full up on love and her future home is set,

But she wouldn't mind a little help with paying her college debt.

Some beautiful jewelry would flatter the socks off of Unmitigated Me,

In her favorite shade of Zombie. (I think it's in the red family..)

So you see, dear old St. Nick, these items aren't much to ask,

You get requests all the time, this should be an easy task.

My life is great, my job is good, my wish is one sure bet,

Since ALL I want is to see their wishes come true.

(and a Pillow Pet..)

So, please, Santa, find it in your heart to end 2010,

With answers to all of their prayers tonight,

With love from your friend,

Jen

(Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!)

My Christmas List (You want in?)

Hmm... What do I want this year?

A car?

No. That works fine. (Stow and Go ROCKS.)

A new house?

Nope. Mine is sufficient, thanks.

Another baby?

(Well, duh..)

How about some books?

Unless it's on my Nook, I'm good.

A poem for 2010?

Perfect!

Okay, folks, I'm working on my third annual Christmas poem, don't believe me? check out 2008 and 2009, and I need YOUR help.

(Somewhere, Dora the Explorer's legal team is looking up whether or not they can sue me for copyright infringement. Look, lawyer dudes, I happen to know that your non-aging bilingual chica is solely responsible for parents needing to repeat themselves three or four times before kids respond. If she didn't shout out the instructions repeatedly, the world would be a much better place. I think I can round up enough parents for a class action, don't you?)

What do you want for Christmas? A coat? New cookware? A few books to add to your literary repetoire? Write it in the comments and I will include it in the poem. As long as I have your name and wish, it will be in there. Just please comment before 10pm Eastern tonight (December 24th if you're catching up after the fact) so I can make sure all two of you are included.

This could be the best poem ever, or it could crash and burn. Tune in on Christmas Day to find out!

Blogtastic Holiday Shout Out: This Blog Barks...

You didn't think the Secret Santas would sit dormant this year, did you? After this love letter, link on over to Recommended Daily Dose to see what others have to say about their favorites!

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It's not often that I start a blog post with TOO much to say. Normally, the cursor blinks at me for just a few seconds while I figure out where I want to jump in on a story. (Most of you have been reading for a while and know that I never just begin. Oh, no. I must confuse you a little at first..)

But today? Today, it not only blinks, it mocks. What are you going to say, Jen? What can you possibly say about her that hasn't been said before? What can you think of that will show her exactly how much you appreciate her and maybe draw a tear out as well so she knows she really is that loved? Even when you've never met before..

Sorry, Sprite. It's not about you today.

I've written about other bloggers before. Back when I was running things, (again, huge thanks to Kate for running with it, since now I get to participate as an actual blogger, instead of just overseeing the show) I didn't allow other bloggers to pick me because it seemed self-serving.

Michele saw through my declinations and wrote about me anyway, a complete surprise when I saw her comment to link her up since she had never taken an assignment. (I actually printed it and it is neatly placed into my files for safekeeping should the Internet ever implode.) (You never know..)

So, when Kate sent out the message that she would be continuing this annual tradition of love's letters linked, I joined in right away, sending my list of favorites, but secretly hoping I would get It's A Dog's Life.

Not because she's just finished John's Christmas present... (I've already told John not to look at my site for fear of repercussion until after Christmas.) (John, be good.)

Not because she's a master cook... (I've made her hummus, the pumpkin ravioli, and the spaghetti squash recipe, all to rave reviews.)

Not because she's a great artist... (I'll have you know that I have a Dog's Life original already sitting in my bedroom with another one on the way!!!!)

Not because she happens to be a wine enthusiast... (her cork collection is such that the county in England is considering granting her an honorary citizenship status.)

No, not because of any of that.

I wanted to highlight Michele because of how I've come to know her over these last couple of years. (Yeah, it's been that long. And we've never met. Yet...) From the beginning, her blog has drawn me simply because of the interesting topics she picks to write about, whether it be old postcards, photos of bygone days, or a few photos of whatever city her job has brought her to.

When I made the trip to Chicago in July of 2009 for BlogHer, Michele had mentioned she would be in that very same hotel the week before. (We would be missing each other by mere days.) I asked her to leave me a message somewhere in the hotel as a sort of "Hollah!" thinking she would pen a note and leave it with the concierge.

Instead, the first night of my stay, as MaryAnne and I were getting ready to head down for the first social hour, there was a knock at the door and in swept Room Service with a bottle of red and a lavish tray of olives and cheeses for the palate along with a card telling us to enjoy our time there.

I had asked for a message, she had gone one better.

When she started posting photos of her paintings, I pestered her to run a contest only so I could enter and win one. She ran a contest. I didn't win.

She sent me a painting just because. I had asked for an opportunity. She had gone one better.

I got an idea into my head that I wanted to see one of John's pictures as a painting because I loved the whimsical nature of it and asked if she had ever painted people before without telling her what I wanted. She KNEW what I wanted and which picture I wanted without even asking. Every step of the way, she's been sending me progress reports making me max out my allotment of exclamation points with my excitement.

I had wanted a cute Christmas present for John. She had gone one better.

She's planning a trip to Florida this Spring to visit Disney World, using some tickets I am forcing upon her (otherwise, she wouldn't take payment for something that takes an artist WEEKS to finish). My hope is to deliver the tickets in person, to thank her for giving us an unforgettable holiday.

Merry Christmas, Michele. I could have sent you a Christmas card, but I decided to go one better.

 

RTT: Trying to contain the awesome.

They say genius is 1% inspiration, 99% perspiration. Here's your 1%. Someone needs to invent a sauce that could accompany sandwiches or chicken or even salads, you know, something that just brings the taste factor out of the ordinary and into the "pass the sauce!" category. And they need to name it "Awesome". Think about it. A bottle of Awesome on the grocery store shelves will have you thinking twice before reaching for the A1. A bottle of Awesome in your pantry will have your guests reaching for that instead of the chipotle mayo-relish mixture that SOUNDED good at the time, but come on, what can compete with Awesome? (And of course, over time, as the brand branches out, you can come up with more flavors of Awesome which would finally give credence to one of my favorite sayings, "That's just five different kinds of awesome right there.")

Imagine the way it would sound: "I'll have the Awesome wings." "Oh, can you put the Awesome on the side for mine?" "Pansy."

Just think about the money that would make! (And think about giving me a cut since I came up with it.)

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Four year old logic is helping to fill the bathtub by placing a bucket under the running faucet so you can pour that water into the same basin collecting it. (Sprite did this four times before giving up to spend more time with her Nemo tub toys, claiming, "Mommy, the water is too SLOW.")

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When vacationing in Disney World, one should be aware of any tapings going on. Silly us, we didn't pay attention, or actually, ABC didn't confirm with our schedules since our stay had been booked for over a YEAR, so surprises galore came about when one of my friends who was joining us for a Weekend of Awesome, texted me with the news that the Magic Kingdom was going to be completely packed on Friday and Saturday morning due to the parade and concert they were pretaping for Christmas Day. (Oh, sorry, you didn't know that the live parade wasn't actually live? Us Jews are always ruining Christmas, aren't we?) So, of course, finding out about the impending arrival of several Disney stars like a certain Cyrus, a few Jonas's, a pregnant Mariah Carey, and a postpartum Celine Dion, (hormones galore!) we naturally wanted to stay AWAY from the craziness that typically surrounds a celebrity sighting. (Having worked at Disney for 2 years, I did happen to meet and help a lot of celebrities back then, so I remember how nutty people can be when you hear "Holy shit! That's Tom Cruise! He's a movie star!" Someone else's words, not mine. The fact that the star simply smiled, chatted amiably, and posed for a picture, signing autographs until the fan was satisfied made him stay on my good side even throughout the whole couch jumping thing on Oprah..)

Meeting with my folks at Epcot for lunch and some park sightseeing, (Epcot is quickly becoming John's and my favorite park) we veered toward the Finding Nemo attraction which includes a ride and the well liked "Mommy, I'm going to ask Crush a question!" Turtle Talk. After the ride, which we ended up being stuck on for 10 minutes, turns out Crush gives the "uh oh" speech on that one too, we finished up with Turtle Talk (she didn't get picked and was bummed) and stopped at the gift shop to buy her a mood lifter in the shape of Nemo tub toys. (Yes, they would be the afore mentioned bath bling.) As John was paying at the register, my parents and I kept track of Sprite in the store.

Suddenly, a cast member came over and asked me to leave. What? I was being kicked out of an attraction? Gasp! Had they read my blog? (Funny where vanity rears its head. Mine comes into play when I think I'm in trouble.) But no. They were kicking my folks out too. And other folks neither related to us or even parked in the Pluto section. John joined us outside, saying the same cast member had approached the cashier and told her to finish John's transaction and close down her register.

The Nemo building was 101. (Disney talk for the ride is non-operational.) (They probably don't want you to know that..) (Forget I mentioned it..) (I should probably just erase the line itself and that would alleviate the need for all these parentheses..) (Nah.)

I did stop on the way and asked a greeter standing there if this was the only attraction closed down since I wanted to a. rule out other possible destinations if they weren't open and b. rule out a bomb threat. "As of right now, yes" was the cryptic answer I received.

We were ushered out about fifty feet to where they roped off all entrances of the attraction and executives joined the greeters and operators to stand just outside the building, buzzing about with importance, and aggravating the parents who were trying to get little Billy in to share some face time with Dorie.

Discussing amongst ourselves what could possibly have shut down such a tame attraction, we ended up talking to another couple who brought up the celebrity factor, maybe they were touring the attraction and wanted it all to themselves. But I quickly dismissed it. Disney is known for catering to celebrities, but they're also known for not forgetting about the average Joe. They wouldn't normally shut down a big draw for a visiting A-lister. They may be backdoor-ed, sure, why should they wait on line with the rest of us, but no one is that special.

Wait, I take that back. Back in the day, I wasn't working that shift and didn't hear about it until I came in later that afternoon, Michael Jackson was visiting Disney MGM Studios and his security team asked for the Great Movie Ride to be shut down so he would be the only one in the building. Disney said no, but did agree to send out an empty tram in front of him and an empty tram in back of him so he would get in and out and no one would be the wiser. Of course, he decided he wanted to ride again, and made such a scene both entering and exiting, by the end of his ride, everyone in the immediate area knew exactly who was riding through the Tarzan scene.

Anyway, moving on about our day, we kind of forgot about it until I spoke to another friend who mentioned that their attraction had also been shut down for taping in line with the parade.

Now THAT would shut an attraction down. Turning off all the rides and whatevers would be required to get sound working on a production. Now, it makes sense.

I wonder if they got any footage of us as we were escorted out..

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I made a double batch of turkey chili this weekend so we could freeze some for a future meal (or five.) (It's awesome chili..) and while reaching for a can of pinto beans in the pantry, I spotted a can with "p" on it, grabbed it thinking I had scored my want, and opened it. The orange mush greeting me was in fact "pumpkin puree". Great. I had bought the can, (next year, I will totally make my own puree based on the Pioneer Woman's recipe) intending to use it right before Christmas for some spicy treats. Knowing it wouldn't keep for 2 weeks, green fuzz is pretty but poisonous, I had to find a quick use for it. Pumpkin bread recipe!

So, on Sunday, as the cold front rolled into Southwest Florida, I filled my kitchen with the lovely scent of bakery awesomeness.

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I knew I would miss the Spin Cycle the most when Secret Santa rolled around again. And it is here. But, I got an email from Kate over at Recommended Daily Dose, asking my permission to continue it over at her site.

Happily agreeing, and signing myself up, (I've got my assignment!!) I am now joining in on this year's 3rd Annual Holiday Shout Out!

If you're missing the Spin Cycle, then don't miss this. Add your favorite five blogs to an email and let Kate know you want in. This was truly my favorite Spin Cycle assignment ever, and with someone else capably taking on the responsibility, I get to turn in my assignment and find me some new blogs to love without the guilt.

Awesome.

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I will be posting some of John's awesome pictures that he took around the Disney grounds, some of Sprite, some of me, some of grandparents frolicking on the picture perfect greenery and completely ignoring the "Stay off the grass" signs. Those rebels. I will also be labeling these pictures with the locations they were captured in so you can see some of the beauty most people completely ignore when charging toward Dumbo without looking down at how much attention to detail the World really does give.

I also happened to notice during our stay that Disney is growing on to the increasingly popular "unstaged photography" that is captured oh, so brilliantly by people the likes of boondock ramblings,  coconut belly, and bex. The Disney folks will offer to take your picture on one of their beaches or on the grounds of the hotel where the agriculture is lush and the natural light is more flattering than a studio setting. For a price.

(We actually saw a few of these sessions going on during our own playtime at the Grand Floridian Resort.)

But, honestly? Bring your own camera, whether it's a SLRWGDUSND or point and shoot, take a few hours out of your day and explore the one of the resorts on the Monorail Mile, there are so many beautiful settings you will just STUMBLE upon where you can set up and take beautiful shots. Then crop it at home and you can have such awesomeness in a frame, you wouldn't even know it was taken at Disney World. (Until you open your credit card bill a month later. "Oh, yeah...") Provided you frame it. Can I tell you how many gorgeous photos are just sitting in my computer's memory right now waiting to be appreciated by more than just John and me?

Of course, one of the main reasons for awesome today is Keely, the AWESOME Un Mom who selflessly gives up her site every week to us gate crashers. Head on over and say hi before hitching a ride with another RTT'er.

And make sure you use "awesome" in a sentence today. You'll be cooler to the kids and slightly whippersnapperish to the older set..

Does this RTT taste right to you?

I bought almonds on a B1G1 a few weeks back at Publix. If you don't know what a B1G1 is, I'm ashamed for you. Realizing that we had yet to open them, I popped one of those suckers wide yesterday while waiting for the raw chicken in the oven to become less poisonous and more palatable. Palming a couple, I deposited them right into my mouth. Only to spit them back out immediately. They tasted terrible. I looked at the container for the warning, "May taste terrible", didn't find it. Instead, I focused on the actual name of the almonds, Dry Roasted. Silly me. I had thought dry roasted meant plain almonds, not dump a crapload of salt lick onto a single nut and call it food. Trying them just once more, I found that I was able to eat some without the necessary spittoon once I got used to the taste of bile.

What? I was hungry.

Is it just me or does anyone else look forward all year to turkey at Thanksgiving only to sit down to the bird and realize you have a strong hankering for lasagna?

Right. The leftovers in your fridge aren't helping your case..

Black Friday this year ended up being unlike any other I've ever participated in before. Reasons why:

My mother slept sat this one out. (She wasn't feeling too well on Thanksgiving so I didn't bother setting an alarm for her this year.)

John joined me. Or almost.

Our dishwasher crapped out on Thanksgiving morning, a wimpy thing to do especially since it wasn't even on call for the dinner rush. I only opened the damn thing to run a pot of coffee before we loaded up the van and drove East to put a dent in someone else's spread. Seeing the water sitting in the bottom of the tub meant the fuse that had gone at least six times prior in this appliance's lifespan had taken the plunge AGAIN during the rinse cycle during Wednesday evening's clean up. Calling John over to second the notion that it needed a good kicking, we agreed that while we had gotten all the bang out of the warranty's buck, the five year warranty was also set to expire at the end of THIS MONTH.

(Although it did generate a buttload of family member's comments on how their dishwasher is going on thirty-one years without a single hiccup. Don't you love those stories that only seem to come out of the woodwork when you're about to fork over your emergency fund to replace an appliance?)

Cue the Black Friday sales!

Camped out on the floor of my aunt's living room, we combed the papers, finding Home Depot to have a pretty sweet deal on Maytag washers, the code word being Maytag. (A plumber friend of John's had told him Maytag is the best brand and John is willing to pay the premium for it.) John gamely agreed to join my aunt, cousin, and me for the early morning sales (2 AM curtain call) before standing in line for the Home Depot to open at 5 AM and then he would abandon us for the airbed in my old bedroom.

We quickly found a willing babysitter in my mother-in-law, who gladly took the kid on for the night while we retreated to my parents' home for some downtime before venturing out into the dark streets. Only..

I noticed in Home Depot's ad that their Black Friday sale was also online as of 12:01AM. John immediately logged on, and twenty minutes later secured us a dishwasher delivery for next Monday at the sale price, staying up long enough to make sure that I woke up at 1:30 before begging off the adventure and commandeering the bed for himself.

No worries. I was done with shopping by 8 AM and kicking his butt out of bed to go bond with Sprite and his mother for the day so I could make linen angels on my own for a while.

(Hey John? Waking me up at two in the afternoon to a house full of visitors and presents that hadn't yet been hidden? NOT COOL.)

Black Friday epiphany: men will typically try to sell others on a purchase they make. ("You've got to hear about the DVD player I bought, it will clean itself after every run!" "I love these shoes. They really absorb the shock from the impact." "A great thing about my car? Check out the brakes! Ooh. I should have warned you to not drink your coffee just then. Another great thing about my car? Stain resistant seats!") Women will typically try to sell themselves on a purchase they make. ("I don't know. It's a great price, but JC Penny is running them for a few dollars less." "The color is perfect, but I should check the return policy before committing." "Should I buy it? Let me ask someone else for an opinion." "I can afford it, but do I need it?" "Wow! The price is less than I thought! Okay, I feel good about this!")

At least Keely doesn't have to worry about the leftovers in her fridge. (Her Thanksgiving was last month. However, if she hasn't cleaned her fridge in a while, she's basically sitting in the same gravy boat that we are...) Go say hi. And bring Tums.

The Surhlrig's connected to the Skampergrout, the skampergrout's connected to the Pilafruel..

(That song is very popular in Sweden..)

There are five stages of building an IKEA furniture piece:

1. Eagerness. Ha! The box just opened and I can already see how this will go together. Even Sprite could figure this out! I should send John out to the garage for a mallet and then have it completely done by the time he gets back. He'll be so impressed. Hell, I'm impressed with just the dream sequence..

2. Frustration. Hold on here. I thought the long piece was supposed to go in first. It looked like it should in the photo. So why is the instruction manual telling me to do it another way? Who wrote this thing? And why are they relying on just an allen wrench to hold a hundred pound wood puzzle together?

3. Anger. Right. Like tapping the shelf with my hand lightly will magically push it into place. Do you like that, IKEA? Does the redness of my hands and my now swollen right pinkie finger make you beam with pride that while you make cheap furniture, you make us PAY IN BLOOD? DO YOU LIKE IT?!?!?!?!

4. Bargaining. Come on, man! You're a screw! You're supposed to go into the hole! Are you seriously going to be the one thing that messes up my entire night? It's all riding on YOU. Just do this one thing for me. Just this one! You OWE ME.

5. Acceptance. Eh. Close enough. A sharpie should color that gash in nicely as long as people look at it in passing. I'll just tell John to push that side towards the wall. And not stand too close to it. Or breathe in its general direction. In fact, we rarely use this room. It may be best to turn the door into a window..

I'm sure the guy who invented wooden dowels is extremely wealthy. (And pays someone else to assemble the furniture those little fuckers accessorize.)

 As you can probably guess, we're re-doing John's office. Before and after shots a-coming and all of this is happening for under four hundred dollars. (I'll even tell you how it was spent.) (Not to boast, this took months to save for and years for me to beg for, but to instead inspire. Nothing was sponsored. We paid for it all.)

So, while my hands and temper are still calming down, (one more bookshelf to build and that one is the mother of all bookcases) (storage shouldn't be a problem anymore, in fact, we may have to rent out a few cubbies just to make them look occupied) I hope you all have a wonderful Tuesday, check out the randomness that is RTT over at The Un Mom, and don't forget, tomorrow is the last day of the Tangled give away! Get yourself counted and possibly get yourself a t-shirt to boot!

I'll announce the winner (or winners?) on Thursday.

RTT: Trying for random, will settle for ran.

It's been a while. See the purple button, no longer fugly but quirky cute? I've missed it.

The kickback of growing up in a family where both parents are from New York is that the pronunciation of some words are inevitably inherited. I only learned RECENTLY that the word kosher is actually pronounced with an audible "r". Until this enlightenment, I was under the impression that the "r" was silent, resulting in a sound like "kosheh." So, speaking with a (seemingly) normal accent-less speech base, I am now more aware of the stares I get when I break out this gem, which I can't seem to shake even though I now know the way to say it. Thanks, buroughs..

I've got a freezer. (Jan would be so proud!) A couple we've known for a few years now recently moved to California, right into the heart of sprawling vistas and near the Driscoll farm where the best strawberries on earth are grown. (Yeah, I know. I'm sorry for them too..grumble..) So, when one of them mentioned the move, I asked, innocently!, if they had a freezer they're willing to unload since they were trying to downsize a bit to fit everything into their new 1920's bungalow. (Seriously. My sympathy card is on the way to their permanently sunny with breezes never making it too warm or too cold zipcode.) He confirmed that yes, a freezer was about to become homeless. Would we like to take it off their hands?

Um, YEAH.

My Facebook conversation with his partner went something like this:

Me: I'm bringing the van by to pick up the freezer.

Him: Um, you may need something bigger. This is a monster sized freezer.

Me: I've got a big van. :-)

Him: Go bigger.

Me: How big is the freezer?

Him: Big enough to hide a body.

Me: I'm coming over right now.

Actually no, that's not the way it went, but he did confirm it was body dumping large. Not sure what to believe, I don't think I've ever seen a chest freezer larger than a 4 foot cubic anyway, John and I pulled up to their driveway to see a seven foot long, three foot tall, must have been formerly used as a cadaver fresh saver, ice box.

Would you believe it actually fit in my van? Not stow and go size, but we got it home and into the garage, which, BONUS, is now better organized since we needed to fit it in somewhere. I now call it the meat morgue.

So, yes. I am freezing everything. The four leftover cupcakes from Sprite's birthday? Frozen. (Hey. My baked treat cravings come at strange times when I'm not willing to get decent enough to make the trip to the grocery store and mingle among others who didn't care enough to get decent either.) Turkey chili? Frozen. Spaghetti? Frozen. I even had some buttermilk left over from a recipe and made a batch of cheddar buttermilk bisquits JUST TO FREEZE THEM!

I am obsessed. (And well prepared in case a chili emergency arrives and flaky soft rolls are needed.)

I keep thinking of things I can make in large qantities so I can freeze them for later. Any good recipes you know that yield numerous servings and hold up well in the ice cave? Send them my way.

I've even started making my own frozen dinners by cooking up some chicken breasts, vegetables, and brown rice. John and I are now completely ready for work (lunch ready, actually getting ready is another thing we're still working on. I don't think anything in that category is freezable. Time maybe?) and can just grab and go.

It makes me feel more productive.

And completely filled up this RTT. (Definitely more than one serving at least. Can you freeze a post?)

One more random! I'm going to have a give away, something different than the Tangled one currently ongoing, it's going to be great, and you are going to do great things because of it. Stay tuned.

 Okay, enough! Get thee to Keely and see how it's supposed to be done!

RTT: Any way you look at it, we ALL have problems.

 

Confession: I sometimes OD on coffee because it makes me work faster. I keep telling myself it isn't a problem, but this self analysis usually only happens when I'm in the thick fog of caffeine. Admitting I have a problem is always the first step.

Typepad did something to their formatting, so adding a link, which used to be as easy as highlighting the appropriate words or Spinners and clicking the add link function, now involves more abstract approaches like highlighting the desired letters, clicking the link, re-typing the words that are supposed to be emboldened, cursing, twice, and praying to the God of Internets (who can be a smiteful God) that it all works out correctly. And CAPS LOCK key forbid you want to center the whole drama? There's a reason for why my Spin Cycle round up this week looks so wonky. I was unfortunately being punished. I just wish I knew what I was being punished for.. Typepad, you have a problem.

 I got a call from my dad on Thursday that our own lovable Rick Sanchez would be giving his interview on Friday to Good Morning America. Not wanting to miss this opportunity for excuses, I taped it and sat down with John that evening to watch. Man, I wish I had made popcorn. How many times did that man try to take over the interview? Props to George Stephanopolous for sneaking in a few hard jabs, not hard enough, but Rick took the quick way out. Began by blaming the entire situation on himself and his problem to just taking too much on, overworked, highly stressed, "Oops? Did I say that?", and ended the interview the same way. "I love CNN. I love Jon Stewart." Actually, I shouldn't quote those words since they were not the exact phrases said. I should air-quote Boca Raton since that is EXACTLY what he did. My biggest concern over this question and answer session was his propensity to stick his pinkie finger in his mouth while smiling like a loon when the questions got a little tough. It's the same thing my daughter does when trying to buy time before answering with an outright lie, only she gets to go to Time Out for 3 minutes before picking up where she left off. I guess Rick's time out is just going to run a little big longer... Honestly? A lot of people thought his problem was not monitoring his personal filter. Rick Sanchez's actual problem is Rick Sanchez.

(I promise. That's the last time I'll write anything about him. Any more coverage would be a problem.)

Our clothes dryer blew up in epic proportions last Wednesday. The drum light was on, but the motor wasn't home. Luckily, having a warranty that we had paid $200 for through Best Buy back in 2007, still good til 2012, we were able to get a repair tech out to our pad by Friday morning for a looksee. "Oh, well, three parts needed. Should be one to two days once the parts are ordered." Okay, we can deal with that. John decided this should be followed up on (I may have egged him on a bit..) and called yesterday to check on the status of the orders. Yes, we're that type of people. Annoying until the job is done. He came to find out from the owner of the repair company, contracted by Best Buy, that it would take 7-10 days for Best Buy Warranties to get back to them so they could order the part in the first place. I'm sorry? We paid how much to sit on a dead dryer when that money could easily buy me a scratch and dent one that does the job just as well? Problemo, no?

Let's not mention the problem with our alarm system, van, the front tires on the van, and Sprite's determination to produce even more laundry when she knows the dryer is broken and we're trying to limit the amount of trips to our wonderful neighbors to steal their spin cycle.

UPDATE! Alarm system fixed! But we did find out that a lightning storm had knocked out the monitor to where we thought everything was okay, ADT thought everything was okay, and since we never had any emergencies, no one was the wiser that the system and the motherboard weren't talking to each other. So if an alarm goes off in the woods, and only the homeowner hears it, does a person still make a stink about no police showing up? Meh. It's fixed now and we'll be conducting monthly tests to make sure it stays in shape.

Speaking of problems,

Does anyone know who came up with the phrase, "When it rains, it pours"? Technically, it's not true. I mean, hyopothetically, it's a bitch when it happens, as it's happening right now in my house, but really? When it rains, it only pours sometimes. Now, when it pours, it's always raining. Couldn't the saying-ologist at least have gone for a better percentage of truth?

You know who doesn't have a problem? Keely. Click the purple button, it's the only Kosher ham bone I know, and get yourself over to her place where I'm sure everything is smooth sailing. Or at least smoother sailing than over here..

RTT in five minute spurts will usually need ten minutes of contemplation before understanding so make this your fifteen minute warning.

Even I am scratching my head over that title.

We're heading back into birthday season in this neck of the woods, most of Sprite's friends, or at least the ones she's closest to, turning 4. And with the numerous invitations making their way into her social calendar, (would you believe I have a budget for this time of year just for these birthday parties?) I've been seeing more and more parents subscribing to wish lists for their youngsters. For those whose kids have outgrown birthday parties and such, a wish list is like a wedding registry, only for toys. A kid can walk around with a scanning gun and pick and choose what they would want to see when they tear the wrapping off their gift. At first, I admit it, I was appalled. (Sorry, Robyn!) What had happened to the element of surprise? Of not knowing what you were getting or what your friends thought you were worth? Of parents not feeling obligated to buy certain things?

But then I started using the lists as suggested and it did make shopping for the kids a lot easier since I didn't have to track down their parents and try to guesstimate what would make the birthday boy or girl happy. Now that birthday season has started, and these same parents know Sprite's birthday is coming up next month, I'm now getting the same questions, What would Sprite like? 

Now, we had not planned on having a birthday party for Sprite this year. Our goal was to take her to Disney World to celebrate the number 4, but she began asking about her birthday party since so many of the friends she's with on a constant basis are starting to plan theirs. What can I say? We caved. We're throwing her a small party while at Disney since a small group of friends were already making plans to be there at the same time. It was a happy accident which turned into an opportunity. Don't ask how we did it. Mickey keeps calling and asking for his money. Tell him I'm not home.

Our friends asked John about Sprite's registry or if we were doing it. Being as I normally procure the gifts, he found out more, thought it a smart idea, then he asked me. What can I say? Everyone else was doing it! Robyn did it, Rachel did it, oh, look! A cliff!

I caved. I took her to Target to begin assembling her wish list for her birthday and for the holidays since they kind of run together.

Friends, this was the biggest time suck I have ever been a part of. It took us almost two hours to comb through five or six smallish aisles, an hour to actually find and scan the items she desired, and an hour to talk her down from her ledge when she found out each time she wouldn't be bringing these treasures home right now. Nor would she be guaranteed that someone else was going to buy this for her. It was just a way to suggest to others what a good gift idea would be. So chances were good that some of her choices would not be coming any time soon since chickie has some expensive taste in toys.

I even labeled her wish list "give a kid a scanner" as a way to get my word in edgewise. Oh! And I did veto some of the items she chose, she just doesn't know it. Those delete buttons on the scanners don't make half the noise the actual additions do. Too many small parts? Delete. Know for a fact she won't play with it? Delete. A few books for Mommy? ADD. (She'll never notice..)

We'll see how it turns out. But I'd love to hear your opinion on this.

***********************************

I had the opportunity to join some friends for a Girls' Night Out on Saturday. Normally, these GNO's involve drinking, dancing, and divulging intimate details which you normally wouldn't discuss in mixed company, to the point where you're not entirely sure just who took over the controls of your personal filter since YOU can't believe you're telling people over martinis about the time where you... you know. Anyway, luckily, I did keep control of myself, as I wasn't able to bring my drink limit above 1/4 of a glass of white wine, and still had a great time, losing the buzz (yes, I get loopy on a few sips, don't you wish you were me?) (In fact, let's just pretend I wrote the title of this RTT while under the effects of Chardonnay. It's been blamed for worse, I'm sure.)

The GNO began at a chain restaurant which some of you may be familiar with, The Melting Pot. The Melting Pot is a fondue restaurant where your choices on the menu are literally cheese and chocolate. Oh, and weird sauces and oils if you feel like cooking your meat. (Something I REALLY don't understand and never will. Why are you paying over twenty dollars for a course of meats and oils and sauces if your entree is coming to you RAW and you are the one who is responsible for how much food poisoning you feel like inflicting upon yourself? Shouldn't there be a little off the charge considering the chef didn't do much more than transfer it from the fridge to your plate and confirm it is in fact raw beef or chicken?) (Hey! Let's take it a step further! I mean, we've already walked off this cliff, so another step into the wide open abyss that is my rationale shouldn't hurt us more than it already has. Should there even be a chef since the fondue doesn't get a start until the server brings it to the table and actually makes it happen right in front of the customer? All the chef has to do is put the shredded cheese on a plate and maybe taste it to make sure it's Gruyere and not Swiss or even, heaven forbid, brie. What is the chef doing back there anyway? Judging by the thin walls and weird banging we felt behind the booth, kickboxing is my guess..)

Wow. Did anyone get an I.D. on that tangent that completely stole my post?

Back to the story... Oh, yes! The Melting Pot! While never having been to this restaurant before Saturday, I did grow up in a city with a Melting Pot franchise about five miles away from me. I was always aware of the higher than average prices, a three to four course meal is the norm and will usually set you back between 60-100 dollars, so a dinner date there would have to be considered something special to my thrifty heart. Plus, the fact that Melting Pot restaurants have a penchant for burning down (the one in my hometown had that honor twice in ten years, unlucky in location or unlucky in hiring servers who actually turn off their hot plates?) meant making dining plans on a basis that you may not actually get to eat there depending on the Fire Marshall's own standing reservation.

There's so much more I could go on with, but I am now watching the Patriots not play the Dolphins. Oh, they came dressed to the game. They're just not playing.

It's going to be a long night..

Interception. It's going to be a VERY long night. (Shut up, Trevor.)

Wait! They're playing! And now the Dolphins aren't playing! My night is looking up..

And now I'll let Keely intercept this play. She doesn't do tangents. She does run RTT though, so she will in fact encourage them.