We simply had a wonderful Christmas time

There is no way to pack into one post how much fun the hubs and I had this past week visiting with and celebrating the birth of Christ with our family. We have spent almost every day of the past week and a half enjoying the company of family in town and in from out of town, and we could not have come up with a better way to spend the week. We had a blessed Christmas and are so grateful that we had so much time to spend with the people we love!

Santa showed up in a big way this year...again. As if furnishing our nursery wasn't enough. The elves must have worked themselves silly this year, because we had a Christmas filled with all the visions of sugarplums we could think of and more. The Lord provided lots of things we needed for our sweet little baby, and we were amazed and overwhelmed by our family's generosity. All we need now is a little love bug. And maybe some diapers. Maybe a lot of diapers.

Here's a "Christmas Sampler" if you will, of our Christmas day- scratch that- our Christmas week, seeing as how we rocked around the Christmas tree for at least that long. Kind of like an "Appetizer Sampler" at Applebee's, where you get a little taste of all your favorite things- only with a lot more holly, Christmas cookies, and a Pregnancy Wedge on the side.

[Interrupting this post to announce that, after 7 months of blogging, I just discovered the "add another image" link in the photo upload thingy. Which now means I can upload 5 times the number of pictures at one time that I thought I could. This may revolutionize my photography displays. May. May.]





























And to wrap things up, here's a little video clip the hubby snagged, albeit lop-sided, of the moment I found out my MIL and FIL gave us the kitchen island that has filled my "what I would love to have in my kitchen" dreams for the last two years. Just turn your computer sideways and it looks normal...Enjoy. =)

Of Columns and Celtic Scarves

On Tuesday night, the hubby and I celebrated our second anniversary as newlyweds. Two years and a billion burnt dinners later, we're as happy as two meadowlarks. Which I guess are happy birds. Because who wouldn't be happy if you could fly and hang out in a meadow and sing all day?

Anyway, we had a great anniversary. Great because it was a night filled with classic moments for us. Classic, "you have to laugh, otherwise you'd cry" kind of moments. Story of our life. (See furnace, bats, Opie, laundry, etc.)

The evening started with a piping hot platter of Stauffer's Lasagna. Don't judge me. The hubby loves a good lasagna, and my aching back was in no mood to try harvesting my own noodles and smooshing up my own cheese and marinara sauce. If that's even what's in lasagna. So I shelled out 5 bucks at the store and popped it in the oven. An hour and a half later, dinner was ready, and we ate. And it was good. Classic. Dinner in a box. I can't say the boxed dinner hasn't frequented our table more than a few times in the past two years. So you could say I was consistent.

Next on the docket (what's a docket?) was presents. Even though we said we wouldn't do presents. We did. I gave the hubs a Snapfish photo book of a ton of pictures since we got married back in 2007. Good grief. Let's just say we've sported a few different hair cuts, amounts of facial hair, and pounds in the past 2 years. We like variety. The hubs liked the book, and I was happy to say I finally did something with the pictures that have lived in solitude on my computer for too long. Post-photo album came a card from the hubs. A funny card. With two old people on the front. And inside was an envelop bearing tickets to see a Christmas concert featuring the symphony and the Irish singing group, "Cherish the Ladies." I'm not going to lie and say I immediately thought it sounded fun. Partially because I am not a symphony fan, and partially because before I opened the tickets, the hubby felt the need to reassure me, "It'll be fun. It really will. I promise. Just....I promise." The hubs said he thought we should do something sophisticated. Something a little more high-class than our usual dinner on the couch and a good movie. I was impressed. So, after shaking off my initial hesitation, I got all excited, ran upstairs to grab the Scottish scarf my grandmother gave me 10 years ago, and we were out the door.



After a smooch under the mistletoe, of course.

(This is my "you had better not make fun of my thematic scarf or the fact that this coat doesn't button around my belly" face. Just in case you wondered what that face looks like.)


We headed into the city, and the lights were just beautiful. The hubs snagged a great parking spot, and we made our way through the streets to the performance hall. This is the only pic I could get of the hubs during the transition from home to the concert. When there's a deadline that involves lots of people dressed up for something and the need to be on time, things get a little "tense". My constant snaps of the camera were not appreciated, hence, the pic of my feet and his body in a blurr. Places to be, people. Places to be.



We waltzed right into the hall and then I saw a flight of 1,996,354 stairs. I looked at the elevator, which boasted a line of 45,609,043 people. I opted to take the stairs. Forgetting about my heels. And the 15 pounds I've put on during my pregnancy. It was a rough go. But we made it.

The hubby led the way to our seats, and when we saw where they were, we started laughing. Because if you didn't laugh, you would cry. Especially if you were a pregnant lady who didn't love symphonies, but was really looking forward to snuggling up to your hubby of two years throughout the concert.

Because there was a column.

Right between our two seats.

And the place was full.

And there was a column.

Right between our two seats.

Not even my Scottish scarf could save us. And it was authentic. "Made in Scotland".



We were stuck sitting apart on our anniversary at a Celtic Christmas concert. It wouldn't have been so bad if the lady next to me wasn't wearing a fur coat that would put even Cruella DeVille to shame. It took up all of her seat and half of mine. And she was wearing Shamrock earrings that were 3 inches in diameter. And that scared me a little.

We held hands and toughed it out during the first half of the concert.



Then came intermission. We swiped up our coats, hit the bathroom, then launched ourselves up another flight of stairs (oye vey...if that means "good grief I am so pregnant and so not suppose to be climbing a bajillion stairs at one time"), desperate to find a couple of seats next to one another without a furcoat or column to hinder our Celtic Christmas experience.

When we reached the tip top of the performance hall, we found a sea of open seats. We plopped down right in the middle of a row by ourselves and drank in the freedom that comes with the absence of columns. Beautiful.



And we held hands.

And waited for those people to sit down.

And enjoyed some Celtic Christmas music.

And it was good.



Thanks for a fun night, GB! Happy Anniversary!

And to all, a good night!

Mele Kalikimaka!

Today I am downing the Tylenol and plowing through pot after pot of food for our Christmas Eve dinner. Every time a buzzer beeps, something comes out and something else goes in, and after a morning of sweating to the oldies in my kitchen, I have two chicken salad sandwiches to whip up for lunch, then I'm done. Until 4 when I have to check on the venison roast, start the green beans, and take a whack at my mother-in-law's AmAzInG Yorkshire Pudding recipe. No promises. Anything that involves cooking 2 cups of Crisco in the oven is a recipe for disaster if my cooking track record remains consistent. But I'm giving it a whirl because its bready and salty and sooo good.

We are feasting tonight with family from out of town before we head out to our church's Christmas Eve service, then we're headed back to our house for coffee and some gingerbread/pumpkin trifles while we wait for my Uncle to come in from Chicago around 10:30 tonight. It's going to be a late one. And a delicious one. And I can't wait.

Soon the hubs will be home from his half day at work, and we will open presents and eat chicken salad, and bask in the glory that is a puggle-post Petco nail trim. You would bask in that glory too if he had been using his talons to unwrap your Christmas presents and tear up your couch and scratch through your flannel pajama pants. Thank goodness for the dog whispering groomers at Petco. Now we can enjoy Christmas festivities in puggle peace. Whew. After an afternoon with my little family, the real fun begins. We will fill ourselves with way too much food, go to church, then fill ourselves with way too much food again. I can't wait.

But for now, I'd like to post a few pics of our latest Christmas tradition: A Christmas Story Monopoly. I bought this game for my Monopoly-loving hubs last year so I would only have to play that stupid game with him once a year instead of 79,000 times a year. "Merry Christmas, Honey! I will only play this with you once a year now." It was a good plan.



We had a rousing game. We played a speed round so we wouldn't have to miss whatever Christmas special was on that night. He is clearly a big fan.



And guess who won?

I did.



Yep, I won. I was so proud. Because I am usually not very good with money. Apparently when there are bills that say things like, "I double dog dare you!" and "You'll shoot your eye out!" on them, I can hold my own.

Now I'm off to throw together those sandwiches before our celebration begins. Hope you all have a blessed Christmas celebrating with family and friends! I'm making a new Old Year's Resolution to bring my camera and take thousands of pics tomorrow to post later. For those of you who are wondering, no. The Old Year's Laundry Resolution did not work out. And no, I don't have anything to wear tomorrow as a result. That's why I have to make a new Old Year's Resolution that doesn't involve water or laundry detergent. So the camera and picture thing works well.

Merry Christmas!

A Place I Love

If you don't like mushy posts or wedding pictures or sweet Christmas songs, keep it movin', folks. Because this puppy has it all.

Tonight I'm dreaming of a place I love, even more than I usually do.

December 22, 2007.


Two years ago today, I had a ridiculously good-looking hairdo (I can say this because it is a fact and has not occurred since), stepped into a beautiful white dress, was surrounded by amazing family and dearest friends,and married an incredible man.

I mean, incredible.

Incredible because he is entirely selfless and loves Jesus with abandon. I seriously do not know anyone as selfless as my husband. He would do anything for me or any one. All because he loves Jesus so very, very much.

Incredible because if he knew then what he knows now about my cRaZy and what my cRaZy looks like when enhanced by pregnancy, he still would have married me. He loves me that much. Whoa.

Incredible because he doesn't give me a hard time about my double standard when it comes to wanting him to turn off the X-Box, and all the while, expecting him to leave me alone for hours so I can finish the latest book in the Twilight series.

Incredible because he wakes up to let the dog out at 2,3, and 4 in the morning, come rain or shine. (Kind of like the mailman. Only more hardcore because it involves a dog and the early morning hours.)

Incredible because he continuously offers to go grocery shopping or make dinner for me even though I continuously turn him down because I am a control freak.

Incredible because he's committed to being faithful to our marriage no matter what.

Incredible because when he said "I Do" two years ago, he meant it with all his heart.

A man among men.

And some how, some way, God saw fit to bless me with this man. Talk about undeserving! Germ-a-phobe, control freak, selfish, cRaZy lady with chronic laundry disorder...and God blesses me with this incredible man. I am so grateful. So richly blessed. And so very, very much in love.

With this man, my groom.



And tonight I'm dreaming of a place I love even more than I usually do.



I'm dreamin' tonight of a place I love
Even more then I usually do



And although I know it's a long road back
I promise you



I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me



Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents under the tree



Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light beams



I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams



Christmas Eve will find me
Where the love light beams



I'll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams



If only in my dreams

I'm suprised I didn't wet my pants.

I also wish I could remember how to spell "surprised" when writing a title, which, coincidentally, is not included in the blog's spell check. Noted.

This weekend we had our upstairs re-carpeted. We may or may not have spent the past 24 hours crawling on the new carpet rather than walking on it because it is ohsuchawonderful luxury. So our upstairs has fluffy cozy new carpet, and as if things couldn't get any more wonderful...

Santa showed up early. EARLY. And I still have not recovered.

We are talking a Christmas gift of mammoth proportions.

Mammoth.

Gargantuan.

In the words of the sweet little girl I nanny for, "hoo-mung-GUS!"

The man with the bag snuck in through the chimney while the hubby and I were at church this morning. Sneaky, sneaky. I had no idea until I made it upstairs, on the phone with my mom at the time, looking for a paintbrush. When what to my wandering eyes did appear but a big red bow on the nursery door. Huh? Who put this here? Must be the hubby has some serious wedding anniversary something going on that he couldn't stash away anywhere else...

Still on the phone, I called the hubs upstairs and asked his permission to go inside to look for the paintbrush. I could tell right away he had no idea why the bow was there, which meant something big was up. Something BIG. My family is really good at BIG. When it's time for something BIG, everyone freaks out. Because it is going to be seriously good. I knew this must be something BIG, and I held my breath. The hubs read the Christmas card, signed by our parents, and opened the door.



***GASP!!!****

GURGLE!!!!

OH MY GOODNESS, I...I...I...I....!

That's when I hit the floor in the ugliest cry I've had in 6 months, and that is saying a lot because there have been a lot of ugly pregnancy cries. I kid you not when I say that I was gasping for air and clinging to the door frame upon seeing this beauty adorning my son's nursery.



I had to toss the phone to my hubby so he could inform my mom that I was, in fact, still breathing. We were shocked and overwhelmed, and I can honestly say I have no idea how I didn't wet my pants. My hands are sweaty just thinking about the moment all over again. And I have butterflies. I have been dreaming about this furniture set since the day Mom and I ventured into USA Baby, and I could not believe it was sitting in my house. I was convinced we would have to find something else, this thing was just too good to be true.

To make things even more exciting, we opened the closet to find all the pieces necessary to convert the crib into a toddler bed, then a full size bed when our little man starts sprouting up and out.

After calming down enough to be slightly coherent, we thanked both sets of our parents, and then I sat in that room for a full hour. Truly. I couldn't pull myself out of there- it was just too much- the carpet, the crib, the dresser, the *Staph Repellant* mattress (Santa knows us too well- we both suffered from continuous Staph infections a few years ago, and LOVE anything that attempts to ward off the nasties)...Hokey Pete!!! What a Christmas, and it's not even Friday. I still cannot believe it.

I am grateful to my bestie L who begged me to post tonight because it gives me an excuse to take and post a billion pictures of one of the greatest Christmas presents ever. I mean, this tops the Red Rider BB Gun by miles. This ranks right up there with the Christmas when I got my Barbie bean bag and my American Girl Doll. This is the cat's meow.

What a fun place for our little man!







I have all kinds of ideas for pictures and baskets and bookshelves for the room, but for now, I think I'm going to go stare at it some more. And dream of my sweet little baby snoozing away on his comfy mattress underneath his adorable raccoon.

'Twas the week before Christmas

This afternoon we took some 23 week pics of my baby belly. My little man is 11.8 inches long this week, which we determined to be about the same size as the snowboarding Santa we had under the tree. That explains a few things. Namely, why it is getting so difficult to bend over. Or walk.

Looking at the picture did two things.
1) I began to seriously rethink the chicken nugget meal I downed at McD's last night 2) a little rhyme came to mind. I modified some of the rhyme in my head to fit our particular circumstances.

For your reading pleasure:

'Twas the week before Christmas
when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ;(Except at our house. Where there were most definitely mice and probably a bat too.)

The stockings were hung by the chimney (furnace) with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there; (With The Pioneer Woman's Cookbook and an iTunes card)

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,(Mom's belly?)

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;(Fine. As long as Christmas cookies qualify as "sugar-plums")

And momma in her 'kerchief ,(or super stretchy flannel PJ's) and I in my cap,(or underwear)

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.(...and tripped on all the stuff from the nursery that is crammed into our bedroom for the weekend while we re-carpet Baby's room)

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen! (I can never remember those in the right order.)
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney (furnace?) St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur,(I have to believe that "fur" here implies velour. Good choice, Santa.) from his head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, (He really shouldn't smoke, should he?)
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;

...and this is when I started to relate to Santa more than I would like.

She had a broad face and a little round belly,(thank you McDonald's chocolate shakes)



That shook, when she laughed like a bowlful of jelly...

She was chubby and plump, a right jolly ol' elf,



And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of myself; (Even though she was me.)



A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,(And then I stopped relating to Santa because I have never been good at winking and twisting my head at the same time.Thank goodness.)

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

"Christmas is a' comin' and the egg is in the nog"

Mmm...



Nothing like some Bing Crosby Christmas on a snowy Saturday morning.

Today I have a big post with lots of pictures that I have been wanting to share for a while but just haven't taken the time to upload...today is the day! I also have a big announcement at the end- so if you don't want to waste 5 minutes of your life reading the following, at least scroll to the end of this post to see what the big brew-ha-ha is all about. It is going to be life changing.

First on the agenda this morning is a picture that I may print off on a certificate of authentication-if that's a certificate that proves that something unbelievable actually happened. This is a pic of my dearest L in the same room as, and touching, my dog. In an unprecedented move, L came over to bake cinnamon rolls and ventured beyond the gate to visit Opie. She's as scared of dogs as I am of puking- we're talking nervous breakdown, sweaty hands, tears, shaking, the whole bit. After 15 minutes standing at the door staring at him, she waltzed right in there and showed him who's boss. And she didn't even pee her pants. I was in awe.



Next, we have a "Before" picture of my kitchen massacre last night. The "After" picture involves 4 of the 5 pans burnt to a crisp. Typical. At least this pic captures the potential.



Speaking of "Before's"...nothing. I don't have a Before to show you of this wall in our nursery, but I've exhibited self control for long enough, and it is time to reveal a nursery masterpiece. My parents came over on Thanksgiving weekend to paint the walls and trim in our nursery, and I set out for two hours the following day to paint this tree on the wall. I was a little opposed to a mural on the wall, but decided a nursery might be the only place I can get away with taking a paint brush to a wall and go crazy, so I decided to go for it. I had to use non-toxic craft paint so I didn't burn any pregnant brain cells, and but I think the final product turned out well. The little raccoon is compliments of my mom and her already activated Grandmother reflex to buy anything and everything Baby could possibly want or need. The fact that there's a raccoon on a wall in my house is a sign of some serious progress in conquering fears on my part, but that's another story dating back to 1993. More on that one of these days.



And now the best for last. I realized this morning that I haven't posted any pictures from our 20 week ultra sound and thought that's just the kind of Christmas miracle I'd like to accomplish today. So here's a few, edited to label body parts in the event you are as confused as my sweet sister was and think to yourself "Wait...Is that the leg?" when in fact, you are looking at the head. (Scratch the "edited to label body parts". Seems I am more computer illiterate than I thought, and I can't figure out how to scribble a few lines and words over the picture, so you'll just have to guess. Hint: his head is the big circle with little lips and a nose.)So without further ado, here is our adorable little critter as of two weeks ago:

Profile shot:


Looking right at the camera:


Annnnnd his really cute Christmas ornament- compliments, again, of my mom =)


Funny how before you are pregnant you see an ultra sound picture and think, "aww, nice fuzzy blur." But when it's your own, you think the world of that blur and can't stop looking at it even if somebody were to offer you 200 calorie free Christmas cookies. Sigh. I just love every teensie tiny bit and piece of our little blur. Which isn't so teensie tiny anymore. Thanks to my recent kefir and Christmas cookie fetish, that little man is really putting on the .10 ounces.

And now, the moment we've all been waiting for...the big reveal. First of all, no. We are not having twins. And no, we have not decided to ship Opie off to Tikitikitimbo, even though we have considered it. However, YES, I have decided to make an Old Year resolution before the New one hits and I have to come up with something that I have to stick to for 365 days. I figure if I make an Old Year resolution, then I only have to stick to it for 15 days, and that sounds a whole lot more doable. So, I hereby declare that my Old Year Resolution is.....[insert drum roll here]....I am going to get all of my laundry

A) washed

B) dried

C) folded

D) sorted

E) put away in the closet

before December 25.

I know this is a lofty goal. After all, once I throw what is in my bedroom down the stairs, it will most certainly be reminiscent of this:


But somebody's got to do it. And since the bat hasn't done it to pay his room and board, I figure I'm the only other one around here next week with posable thumbs, so it had better be me. Unless, of course, I put Opie in charge, which would result in a whole lotta pairs of "shotgun shell underwear," as the hubby puts it. So it comes down to me. And the 9 days I have before Christmas. I think I can do it, as long as eating excessive amounts of Christmas cookies doesn't get in the way. I'll post with an update in the Old Year Resolution department as soon as I am victorious. And now, I shall go forth and conquer.