March 15th, 2011

Beware

So, I am sitting there with the perfect nap time combination of being freshly showered with a sundae in hand watching the sub-par but still trashy enough to be entertaining Real Housewives of Miami thinking up an excuse to go to the grocery store so I can buy a pie for pi day when it hits me. Tomorrow is the Ides of March, the day of the annual race my sister and I have to be the first text the other: Beware. Even better, I realized, I could make a laurel wreath and a toga and dress Spencer up at Julius Ceaser for a blog post. Awesome!

But that seems like a lot of work. And I am sick, although on the mend according to  my mom’s maxim of: if you can eat ice cream you are better (see aforementioned sundae). So, I am trying to think of a short cut when it comes to me in a flash, give him a knife and make him Brutus.

And then I lost another 30 minutes pondering the ramifications of posting a (however well intentioned) picture of a toddler with a knife online. It ranged from minute (likely) to viral (unlikely) to CPS (super unlikely) and I spent another 20 minutes bemoaning the fact that we had no prop stores in town where I could get a fake knife. So, I went back to Ceasar and made a garland out of felt, super glue and ribbon in about 10 minutes and it looks it, but whatever. I have already invested way too much energy in this project and I am still (mostly) just in the thinking stage.

So. I think all of this. I do all of this. And the toddler won’t cooperate for pictures. I gave up and we went and played outside.

Happy Ides of March! Oh, and BEWARE!

March 14th, 2011

March Madness

March has long been my second favorite month, it has all sorts of fun things, Pi day, the basketball tournament, First Day of Spring, the Idea of March for the word nerd in all of us and of course, St. Patrick’s Day. Now, anyone who knows me in real life knows just how much I love St Patrick’s Day. It might even by why I married in to a Irish family, to help legitimize my love for a holiday that I love for all the tacky and drunken and commercialized reasons.

Because how can someone not love a holiday that ended it after years of commercialization to be about beer, meat, parades and drunken shenanigans? And potatoes. I love ALL of those things. And I rocked many a St Patrick’s Day through my 20s.

And then my mom ruined everything.

We found out my mom had cancer the same September (2006) in which my husband left for 6 months of intensive job training. Throughout the fall, my mom was still highly functional. I went over for dinner a few nights a week. By the beginning of 2007, my mom was no longer driving, so I ran all of her errands, drove her to all of her appointments and we had dinner every night. By March, she had declined further, had been in and out of the hospital, but was still living on her own, with my help with anything outside of the house.

I decided to take St Patrick’s Day off from mom duty. Rebellious, I know. One day. I normally went over for lunch and dinner on the weekend, this Saturday, I did neither. I decided at the last minute to go to a friend’s house for an early dinner and had skipped a lunch time visit because my mom was napping,

I went to my friend’s house and had an amazing, relaxing time. Ate good food, talked about things that weren’t chemo and needles and errands and wigs. It was awesome. I only had one beer, but it was festive green and delicious. I packed up and extra plate of corned beef, cabbage and potatoes to share with my mom the next day and headed home at a responsible 9;30.

At 10:30 that night, my phone rang. It was my mom, calling to tell me she felt dizzy, had shortness of breath and trouble breathing. I asked her if she thought she could walk to my car, with my help. She said no. I told her to call an ambulance and that I would meet her at the ER. It seemed too early for the ER to be packed with drunken revelers, but since it was a Saturday night, an ambulance arrival would certainly speed our passage through the ER process. The doctors said it was dehydration and lack of food that were causing the problems at decided to admit her. At 2 am, they sent me home.

That was my mom’s last hospital stay. That was the hospital stay where the resident told her that she had a good run, but there was nothing more to do. That was the hospital stay where my mom lost all hope and died three days after discharge. So. Needless to say, there is a cloud hanging over my beloved St Patrick’s Day.

The next year I wallowed in whiskey and beer. The next year I was pregnant with Spencer and didn’t celebrate at all. Last year, I dressed Spencer up in a parade of green diapers and amused myself. This year I am shaking off the cobwebs and celebrating again.

There is corned beef and cabbage to be cooked, maybe some Irish soda bread. There is beer to be sipped and toasts to be made. After all, in 2011, I am bringing back the happy.

3.17.2010

December 14th, 2010

Santa Picture 2010

I was a little disappointed in the santa pictures. We didn’t go last year because I felt that Spencer was too little. This year, I had high hopes. I dressed him in his little brown sweater and his favorite green shoes. I went right when they opened, on a week day and we were the first ones in. Spencer smiled a little and went over to santa, sat on his lap and got suddenly camera shy. She snapped about 6 photos. showed them to me and I picked this one because it showed his shoes the best. She promised that with the package I bought (as long as I upgraded a level from what I was thinking) all of the pictures would be available online and the package came with a discount code good for a free print. So, I paid. She handed me the pictures and off we went.

What? No green shoes? The bastards put a stupid bow over the thing I chose the picture for. And the coloring and printing are awful. It is like it is over high deffed or something. And when I checked online, only this picture is available. With bow. I got expensively screwed by santa.

November 19th, 2010

Already losing that holiday spirit

I don’t know what it is, but this year I am really not feeling the holidays. It might be because the hubs is working both Thanksgiving and Christmas and probably New Years too. A job transfer shifted him to low man on the scheduling totem pole and this is the result.  And I think it sucks. Not only is he working Thanksgiving he is working the entire Thanksgiving weekend, Thursday to Sunday. It is going to be boring. Also, I already cooked a turkey to make the recipes for Turkey Week over on Soup or Salad Blog, so it’s not like I even have the food to look forward to. I’m not making it again.

And Christmas is going to be just as dull. My sister is going to Hawaii with her in-laws for Christmas, which is awesome because if anyone deserves a break it is my hard-working sister, but it means none of my family will be here on Christmas. She is coming the week before, on her way, which YAY, we haven’t seen each other since August.

All of this has left me pretty sour on the holidays. We can’t get a tree. Spencer would just pull it down. I might put a wreath on the door and hang stockings, but that is about it. Is it too early to be this grinchy? Can anything snap me out of it? Only time will tell. I guess my husband, the eternal hater of all things Christmas is finally rubbing off on me. Not even this picture, one of my all time favorites from last Christmas is working its magic.

Grinch update: Since writing this in the morning and reviewing it tonight, I thought of 2 things I am not hating about this holiday season: picking out the cards (but not writing, addressing or sending them) and making photo albums to give as gifts.