my child is not a lush

My children were spoiled during Christmas.

Not just in the over-abundance of toys from grandparents or the cookies crammed in by the mouthful, but my boys went through 5 bottles of sparkling juice over the span of the Christmas week.

I poured them each their own glass(es) in champagne flutes for the full effect until my father freaked out calmly told me that the glasses were from Germany and could not be replaced. So, I switched them out with the Target version of the white wine glass, nonetheless still made from glass and told them it was champagne.

I could see the word 'champagne' roll around in their little brains as they savored every last drop from their glass.

But now, Wyatt wakes up in the morning, climbs up the stairs in his footed pajamas, opens the refrigerator door and demands 'more champagne' (though he will also say 'lotion' because he has somehow figured the two most confusing words for a two-year-old to say must mean the same thing.)

So if you happen to hear my child ask for 'more champagne' (or 'more lotion') just letting you know, my child is not a lush





nor does he have some sort of freaky lotion love thing going on.

Champion of Christmas

"I'm the Champion of Christmas" Henry exclaimed as he jumped back and forth then side to side with this huge goofy grin on his face. He ran over and bear hugged my brother-in-law and my sister for giving him probably the best present he could have ever dreamed, a stop sign.

As much as I would love for you to imagine me as this bad a$ mom; driving her minivan around at 2:30 in the morning, pulling over on some dark, abandon road and ripping this stop sign off the post with her bare hands, this just isn't the case.

Sorry to disappoint.

But this gift has opened Henry's eyes to the potential of future Christmases. He sat on a stool in the kitchen between myself and my sister, looked squarely at her and said "Next year, I'd like a working stop light".


Disclaimer, as to avoid any potential felony charges, my sister helped in the clean up of the F-5 tornado that hit the Parkersburg, IA area in 2008. This stop sign was wrapped around it's post like a metal taco. It was taken down and replaced. The above sign was to be scrap metal.

it's a Christmas miracle

The Immaculate Conception, the birth of Baby Jesus, a picture with Santa with eyes opened and looking at the camera.

Exactly in that order.


I tease, of course.

The Merriest of Holidays from the Anti-Superfamily

mother's tree

I grew up with two Christmas trees. That's right, one in the living room with all those weirdo kid ornaments on it, that were made from Popsicle sticks, yarn and glitter with our picture glued somewhere in the middle; and in the den, our second tree, my mother's tree.

She decorated generally in themes, one year she even pulled out her treasured porcelain dolls. Those little dolls sat nestled among lace and floral baby's breath in the tree branches with their creepy glass eyes staring down at you as you tried to peek through the corner of the wrapped gifts (like they were going to tell on me or something, darn dolls).

So as an adult, I've opted out of getting two trees, but I have tried to keep my tree 'themed' (err, sans kid-made ornaments).

It has worked well for the past five year, until Sunday. Wyatt made an ornament at Sunday school; glitter, smiley head and all. I hung it on a magnet and stuck it on the fridge. I walked away thinking no one would be the wiser.

But the gig is up.

He yanked it off the fridge and put it on the tree all by himself. Adding insult to injury, Henry came home from school and just 'had' to make one just like Wu's.


So, now I have this absolutely perfectly shaped, beautifully decorated tree with two kid-made ornaments hanging (near the bottom) of the tree.

Ba humbug, I'll miss my mother's tree.

roommates

Wu has taken to sleeping with his head under his pillow. Not only does it look horribly uncomfortable (and yes, I do freak out for a slight second that he's not breathing under it, like any 'normal' mother would do), but every time I see him sleeping this way it reminds me of one of my roommates my freshman year of college who did the same thing.


Now, if Wu starts eating all my Mac'n'Cheese and vomiting on the carpet, covering it up with a bath towel and leaving town for the entire weekend; he better know that I'm fully prepared to kick him out too.

Consider this his warning.

jealous much?

I know that all of you not from Minnesota are jealous of our 25 degrees below zero temperatures (today it's -2, a warm spell) and snow drifts higher than humans, but I thought I'd let you in on another reason to hate us Minnesotans a little more, we've got Sasquatch.

story and photo courtesy of bringmethenew.com

Just in case this didn't make national news:

"Two hunters say they've captured photographic evidence of Bigfoot lurking in the woods norther of Remer, Minn. While local DNR officials remain skeptical, the Northern Minnesota Bigfoot Research Team is on the case."

Thank goodness the Bigfoot Research Team is on the case.

Keeping it exciting here in Minnesota (also know as: The only way we survive Winter).


If you haven't already, enter my Twilight Sea Turtle giveaway.

second chance - a giveaway

I wish they would stop advertising on the radio (said in my best radio personality, deep and manly voice) "get your last minute Christmas shopping done here". I have 10 days; at the minimum I have a full work week and a full weekend left to do my shopping. Last minute... whatever.

If I do happen to get the wrong present for the loved ones on my list in these final 10 days before Christmas Eve, you bet I'm including a gift receipt. (Read: people who may be giving me a gift, a gift receipt would be very much appreciated). A gift receipt says you care enough to give them the gift they really want; a second chance to get a gift they well, really wanted, just in case the floral dresser drawer liners weren't exactly what they were hoping for. (FYI this was a gift once given to me as a kid, but I'll keep the innocent, innocent.)

And anyway, who doesn't like second chances?

So, here's your own second chance, remember the Twilight Sea Turtle giveaway from this summer?


I already own the Twilight Sea Turtle and my two favorite parts: that it lights up (8) actual constellations on your ceiling or walls and that it has a 45 minute timer. Love it!

The Corner Stork baby gifts & more is giving away a Twilight Sea Turtle to one (1) of you. A second chance to win.

-leave a comment for an entry
-leave a second comment if you follow for an entry
-leave a third comment if you twitter about this - and copy in the link in your comment.

Easy, right? Now stop making fun of me for not having all my shopping done and being left with whatever they sell at the convenience store.



Disclaimer: I already was given the Twilight Sea Turtle in a past giveaway. I was given the opportunity to give away product for free and I like doing that. I like to wear underwear on my head and dance around naked too. Just seeing if you were reading this. Disclaimer end.

Welcome to Minnesota

Dear California license plate driver from last night,

Welcome to Minnesota!

I feel for you; really, I do. It must be a horrible shock coming from daily temperatures of 80 degrees to the 'feels like 18 below with the wind chill' temperatures of current.

Here's a few tips to make your winter driving with us a little better:

1. First and foremost, you will not die. Many, many people have survived Minnesota's winters. (Only rarely do people die).

2. I'm pretty certain if you made it with a car in California, you are not foreign to concept; your brake and gas pedals are in the same place as always. Use them accordingly.

3. Cold temperatures are not equivalent to: blizzards, freezing ice, blowing snow; meaning you may not find it necessary to drive slower than a 88 year old woman taking the cross walk all. winter. long.

4. You will need this thing called an 'ice scraper', preferably one with a brush and a very long handle.

5. Using said ice scraper, you may use a technique called tank vision to clear off your windshield, but this technique will only work if you remember to scrape off your rear view mirrors and are OK with rolling down your windows.

6. We may be some of the nicest drivers in the country, but come February... let's just say I suggest, if you are calling this place home, getting new Minnesota plates ASAP.

Sincerely,
Anti-Supermom

* feel free to add to the list, obviously this will be valid for the next 4 months or so.

d-list

So I met Christopher Straub from Project Runway this weekend. I don't know what it is when I meet celebrities, but I lose all my cool. The conversation went something like this:

"Christopher, it's so nice to meet you. I watched the show (I said 'the show' because I totally went blank on the name Project Runway and I almost said Design Star, who I'm sure are arch-enemies) all the time. I was rootin' for ya."


Like he's never heard that before.

And what just came out of my mouth; rootin' and ya?

He was nice though, he asked me my name and told me that he is most well-known for his underwear. (Which I almost got a pair for my husband since I found out he was autographing them that day - but it just felt wrong; to be getting underwear for my husband just for the signature on the darn things and talk about *not* setting the mood, "umm, yes honey, show me where it says Christopher Straub before we go any farther."

You should have seen me with Bob the Bachelor. Remember him?


And here is a picture of me with a Radio City Rockette - being that it's almost Christmas that's close enough to a d-list celebrity, right?

And then there was Katie Couric, when she was still sweet. I know she's higher than the d-list, but this was more like a paparazzi shot, equivalent to the d-list, where there was no chance in heck I was going to be able to actually say 'hello'.


Obviously my brush with celebrities is getting quite long. I need some suggestions on how to keep my cool next time I meet the guy who worked on the set with the stage hand who once said 'hi' to Brad Pit.

bite of the best

I wish I could sometimes be more like my children, forgo manners and etiquette, and just take a bite out of the best part of life. Just the good stuff, right in the middle and leave the rest to be dealt with by someone else.

.

But if you do happen to spy a cake with a middle piece cut out, leaving the (next in line) corner piece still in the pan, I will admit that it was me.

honeymoon stage

Another one of my email forwards, sent to me from the last to get married in the family brother. (Aaah, remember the honeymoon stage?)

Husbands of the year


(I laughed at this one because it reminded me of the first weekend my husband bought his bike; it stayed in the living room, he admired it from the couch and nicknamed it his 'Baby'.)



(This one is funny because Wu peeked under my elbows, saw this picture and said 'I wanna du that'.

Yes, that will be one lucky girl.

how I met my mother

One of the things Henry was really excited about when starting school was recess. It was the first thing he would talk about as I tried to pull teeth start a conversation about what happened in school that day.

"I played with so and so; we played cops, we were the bad guys." He'd chat from his seat right behind me as I looked at him in the rear view mirror.

He continues "The girls chased us around".

A few weeks later I learned there is a specific girl that chases him, her name is Laurie.

"Laurie chased after me, but I ran too fast for her to catch me... I'm never going to marry Laurie".

I laughed a little from the driver's seat of the minivan, of course (as all men do) he means the opposite; he really, really wants to marry Laurie. (FYI men, we are onto you doing the opposite of exactly how you feel, after all, we've all seen the movie he's just not that into you, right?

So, a flier comes in the mail from Henry's school and he asks to look at it. He points out Laurie (see, obviously this is love). I lean over his shoulder to take a look. *This is a small (and very poor quality picture of a picture, plus these are not my kids, so I had to block out eyes, fuzz imagines.... but you'll get the idea.

Hmm...Laurie... does she look like anyone we might know? Oh yes, me.

I know men are suppose to marry their mothers, but starting in Kindergarten?

monkey see, monkey do

I'm pretty sure no one noticed that you wore the spider shirt for the second day in a row, insisting that it was cleaned when I know you pulled it off the floor of Henry's closet. They probably did notice though that you were running around with wet pants from the milk you spilled on yourself, on purpose, that I refused to change. You have a bad habit of sucking your fingers whenever your blankie is in a 2 foot radius. You smell like maple syrup most days.

I'm pretty sure that no one noticed that I wore the same pair of jeans for the third time this week. They probably did notice though the ketchup stain on my shirt and the peanut butter in my hair. I have a bad habit of biting my nails. I love the smell of maple syrup.

Monkey see, monkey do.

My giveaway closes on Thursday - do it for the babies (they smell yummy too).