Don't be a 'Square'.

Blogger world, where have I been?
I'll tell you.

There comes a day, near the end of January...beginning of February-ish, each year (well, for the past 3 years) where I become obsessed, hand shaky, eye blurry, list crazy, kind of obsessed with our Relay for Life Dance.

That day...was yesterday.

It started creeping in Wednesday night, as I sold a handful of tickets...and it is building up with an avalanche of excitement.
Our family, has a Relay for Life team. We hold 3 Big Events each year.
I'm not talking no bake sale, people.
Our family likes to have a good time. Stupid good time.
It seems very appropriate for us to hate on Cancer and lack of White Blood Cells, by smushing that together with a little dancing, bean bag tossing and ripping the seams off a softball.
On February 13th, our team will hold it's 'Big Money-Maker' by hosting a decade themed dance, designed to 'Shake your Money-Maker'.
(pause a moment, to appreciate how cute that sentence was...)

Our first year, 1985 Prom.
Our second year, 1975 Homecoming Pep Rally.
This year....1955 Sweetheart Sock Hop.
We are exactly 14 days, from said event and I am getting pumped!
This year, has a new buzz about it.
Originally, I was the idea man. I will proudly and for the rest of my life, take credit as the creator of 1985 Prom. (An accomplishment I'd probably list second to the creation of my children.) I can say, without trying to humble myself, it is very easy to propose an idea. Without the talent, my ideas would just float in the wind.
This year, everyone had ideas, making it possible, this is set to be, the best dance.... ever.
(tiny belly flip at the nervousness of putting that statement out there.)

Now Coach, may be able to spin a basketball on his finger for a ridiculously long amount of time...his siblings, however, have a vast array of talents that are crucial to our dance success.
His sisters are practically trained interior designers. Not just decorating the Hall with their god-given beauty (brownie points?)...but transporting guests to another era. They spend hours, decorating each corner, bathroom and table with decade themed surprises.
His brother, The Commissioner, is a graphic artist, who's talent endlessly amazes me. The fliers, invitations and voting ballets are all crafted with a professional's eye. Possibly, in the near future, he may grow tired of our team and toss his computer out the window...if he didn't love her like a mistress. His wife has whole-heartily jumped on board, making endless phone calls for 'cool giveaways' and passing out fliers. She also holds the esteemed title of 'Frozen Creator and Taste Tester'. Many, will appreciate that collaboration.
Then, there is the other brother, Warhol. To call him a gifted painter would be an understatement. I suggest an 'idea' and he will transform my little idea into a work of art. It may be, an R-rated work of art. He will have two such pieces at our dance, so amazing and fun...we are auctioning them, for the cause. (have your money ready!)
Hey, even Clark is working on his outfit!
We are throwing our guts and glory into this dance.

Which is why, yesterday, I lost myself in a swirling time warp of 1950's music selections (for games, royalty waltzes and extras). I enveloped myself in the details of the finale. Let me repeat...of The GrAnd FinAle! to put the others, to shame. I looked up details, ensuring every single little minute is filled with fun.

If you are able to attend, and we MORE than hope you will... we promise, a great time.
What we can promise:
If you are a non-drinker, we have conceived a crafty plan this year, to make sure you have fun.
If you are a drinker, uh...you will have fun. Duh.
If you have a sweet tooth, you will have fun.
If you like a cute picture, joining a friendly competition or love dancing, swinging and 'twisting and shouting', you will have fun.
If you have ever had the urge to wear a poodle skirt, 'Beat ur Neck', Grease your Lightening, Pink your Lady, tight Levi's, roll up a pack of smokes, or let loose your inner Marilyn Monroe, James Dean or Lauren Bacall...you will have fun.
If you don't feel like dressing up at all...I'm pretty sure you will have fun, despite yourself.
If you are single, looking to not be single, with a group of gals or ugh! boringly married....YOU. Will. Have. Fun.
We promise, or your money back.
(Not really, it's for charity, after all)

I must remind myself, party planning, is not my career.
I am actually, a stay at home mother.
A very 1950's profession.
Though, after my research, I think I may be failing miserably at my job.
This is not the scene that Coach returns home, too.




Frankly, after the time spent planning, the poor man was lucky to have dinner made.

Coach, has really 'taken one for the team' by making his business available for ticket purchasing. Also, he has reluctantly volunteered, with a twisted arm, to make several visits to our local pubs, this weekend.
He really hates Cancer.
What a great man.
In between chatting, he will have tickets to sell.

As always, our team appreciates your support. We established this team after losing precious members of our family, who will never be forgotten.
While our dance will be crazy, stupid, hair raising fun....our first priority is raising money for the Cancer Centers of America.
While they have not won every battle, for every person fighting their illness, they are desperately trying to win the war. I, personally, owe my life to the doctors at the Cancer Center and could never express my thanks.
Please join us, in our cause.

Thank you,
Team We (Cancer)vive

Are you 'hep' to it?

Tell me if I'm crazy...?

Have we, the northern half of our nation, considered that we are living in a permanent state of Grey Tundra?
That we have been transported to a scene from Day After Tomorrow.
And that the government has conspired, with all meteorologists, to keep the truth from us, out of fear of mass hysteria?
Have you considered that the only way for you and/or your children to ever see sunshine again, would be to immediately book a trip to a Caribbean Breezes Resort that is currently advertising for 70% off all trip packages...and yet thanks to Haiti, you are terrified to travel to any tropical island?

Yet, if you took that chance, would you learn a valuable lesson from the surviving tourists that were sunbathing by the pool, rather than the unfortunate that were relaxing inside the building as it collapsed?
That sunshine is good, and may not only save your life from an apocalyptic earthquake, but also from a really depressing mood that is gripping your mind from deep in the depths of a Midwestern winter.

Or that possibly, by recently posting that the freckles on your face were regrettable reminders that you spent too many hours in the pool as a teenager...you have essentially, pissed off the Sun Gods so fervently, that they have shunned you from their warmth, permanently banishing you to flannel pajama pants, stupid-used-to-be cute snow boots that now make me shudder each time I put them on and the couch cover of fuzzy blankets.... never again, to enjoy a tank top, flip-flops and sunglasses?

(Pajama Pants Gods- I do not mean to insult thee, either.)

I'm just wondering....have you even considered the possibility?

I would hate for you to be shocked, when the government finally admits the conspiracy come May, when we are still under a blanket of snow and ice. At which point, do not bother sending Dennis Quaid to rescue me. For I will have perished from starvation long before, from beneath my bed covers, with reality TV flashing in the background, because if I have to carry a car seat in and out of this weather one more time (which possibly resulted in a complete and total wipe out last night, severely injuring my tail bone not to mention my dignity) I... really... may... scream.
Coach- Save our children, while you still can.
Though, I am pretty sure, Tink will volunteer to go down with my ship.

FYI- If you are one of my loyal AZ followers (and I typically love you all) it would be in your best interest not to Comment something ridiculous about how 'falling snow is peaceful and beautiful' because you can trust that it is significantly less beautiful, if you are looking up at it from your back, as you lay on a patch of ice. Be warned, that would not be a smart idea.

Sunday, Sunday...

I was having a down weekend, health wise and spent some quality time with the bedroom television.
I'm not sure how many brain cells were wasted, never to be heard from or used again...but I am guessing, several.
While the rest of the family was at church on Sunday morning: I began my day with a little Lifetime Pregnancy Pact.
On DVR, making that confession even more sad.
While watching, I wished that my blog was on the National Level and I was able to reach out to young girls by screaming...
What?!
WHAT?!
WHAT the WHAT???
It feels a little, like the group of ladies I spend time with, just had a bit of a pregnancy pact. Practically, every woman/cousin I know, has been pregnant in the last three years. That said, we are all nearly 30's (or more), married, with homes and husbands with gainful employment.

When I was in high school, my friends and I made a pact to wear the same style flannel shirts from Express.
Which immediately followed, our pact to wear silk shirts from Structure.

A decision that is only revisited in photographs...not in a living, breathing child.
I think the issue that should have been addressed was not, how our teens view sex but rather...how our teens have turned into complete idiots!

Then I napped.
Woke up to watch a little mix of DVR'd Oprah, Hope for Haiti...sprinkle in some Platinum Weddings....you know, all the basics.
Little more napping.
Woke up again to..... shower and change??
Yeh, right.
Instead, Coach left to play basketball and I was 'in charge' of the kids.
We all sat on the floor, ate microwave popcorn for dinner and watched a little Reign of Fire. Classic, dragons take over the world.

It may have briefly occurred to me, that scenarios such as these, could be the cause for the 'dumbing down' of our youth.
At that point, I did not change the channel to Animal Planet, but I did hand out a Children's multivitamin to each.
That had to help out something.

Coach returned home.
From a two point loss, I heard more about than I needed too.
I returned to my bedroom TV, to close out my day with...
You guessed it...Life with the Kardashians.
Coach, popped in to ask if this Kardashian thing was getting obsessive.
He then spent the next 15 minutes standing in the room, watching the show, because they were in a charity boxing match.
And now, Coach is hooked.
Paused the show (DVR, I heart you) kissed the kiddies goodnite, finally washed my face.
Commended myself, on the choice, not to change out of my pajamas.
Jumped back into bed.
Relaxed and brought myself to a zen-like state with a little Guilanna and Bill.
Ending the perfect sick day.

Did I just write an entire post about bad TV?
That's sad.
As if living it was not pathetic enough, I needed to record it forever and post it out into the Internet abyss?

Did you just read an entire post about bad TV?
That is even more sad, for you.

But hey, at least it's not another birthday post.
Dang...how many people am I related to, anyway?!

I'm a big kid now.

When I first met this boy, he was the cutest thing I had ever seen in glasses (until The Kid).
Now, Three is preparing to start high school in the fall.
You have grown-up this year. You have become a real athlete (scoring touchdowns and shooting threes).
You have grown at least 5 inches and turned all man-ish!
We are proud of you, of who you are becoming, of your maturity, awesome sense of style and speed....I'm talking crazy, faster than your uncle kind of speed. Until that re-match, anyway.
Little bit of advice, to an almost man....sometimes, it is ok to lie to your aunt, to spare her feelings. Often, lying to women, can be to the benefit of everyone involved.
Happy 'Golden' Birthday, Three.
At least, in your crazy mother's head.
Love you.

Ah...warmer weather...

Our Relay Team is busy, deep in the planning of our next event.
The 1955 Sweetheart Sock-Hop Dance.
To be held February 13, 2010.
(trust me...MANY more details to follow...)

Until then, I am kicking off "Flashback Fridays".
Using different advertisements from the 1950's to inspire you.

Thanks to the miserable weather....rain, ice storms, cold, snow....etc...
I am calling this Friday:

Take a Little Trip with Me

The children in this family...have it rough.

My poor nephew and the Kid's, "Best friend and cousin in the whole wide world, plus Four and Five" (direct quote).... broke his leg this week.
The culprit was some kind of freaky death trap of an exercise machine with devilish armish devices that yanked on his poor little wisp of a leg, forcing a break.

Another, valid argument for practicing yoga.

We went to visit Six, while he was confined to the couch, waiting for his cast.
It was the most pathetic thing.
He was barely able to open the candy we took him.
Barely able to request a drink.
Barely able to compare dork notes in matching dinosaur books, with The Kid.
He did however, play an hour of Beatles Rock Band....like a trooper. Propelling him HIGH up on my 'Most Favs' list. If only, with the microphone and a weaken, but still cute, singing voice.


Given all that, Six is still not the most tortured soul in this family.
There are children suffering more than him.
Children who are neglected and treated like slaves.
Exhausted from their punishment and unable to rest their tiny bodies.
Children, like my daughter.
During a rough/wild patch on Tuesday, I forced my two eldest, to draw me a picture for my birthday.
The anguish!
It was too much for their tiny hands to bare!
How dare I?

Poor Tink was so exhausted from the 2 circles and 6 stickers she placed...that she desperately needed a break.
Knowing that her evil mother may crack the whip, if she took the chance to rest....Tink was forced to fall asleep right there, at the kitchen table.




How do I live with myself...while treating my children so poorly?
Six has no idea, how much easier his life is.
Broken leg...schmocken schleg....he could of had to draw his mother a picture.
Now that is painful.


Question: Do you think this is the last time we will see her face behind bars?

Your wife loves you so much....she begged people to make fun of you....

Friday, we had a bad day. Bad. Issues with the kids, the pets, nothing going right...just bad.
On top of that, we had one heck of a perfectly planned party, to attend that evening and our bad day could not get in the way.
While frantically getting ready, I decided...I was going to have a great night. Bad day and all... I was going to have fun. Not just fun but FUN!
And...I...did.
Friday night, was a surprise party for The Commissioner's 30th birthday (which is actually today.) His wife, Jackie, began painstakingly planning every detail months ago.
It began with a surprise limo bus, then clues leading to each sibling and friend, which ended in a clue to a huge party.
And wouldn't that be enough?
Not for this guy.
One hour in... Jackie opened a Roast.
I'm sure many of you shudder at the thought but in this family (and I don't really know what this has to say about the couple that raised them) these siblings can not only make a great joke... they can take one.
A very impressive, character trait.

(The Commish and his wife)


As his birthday post, I will print my Roast to the Commissioner. I would love to print ALL of them. If you think mine is cute...this isn't even half of the funny that took place that night.
(I apologize for any typos/grammatical errors, I typed it with the idea of how I would like to present it...dramatic pauses and all! Names and details, have been changed.)

The Commissioner's 30th Birthday Roast by Me.

I had trouble working on this. Which was even a surprise to me. I am certainly very capable of making jokes at The Commissioner’s expense and yet I was not comfortable finding my groove.

I’ll open with a little emotion… and thank you once again for your part in my history. If I had taken your advice and steered far clear of the man passed out on your couch… then I wouldn’t to be here tonight. Well, I would still be here…but I would just be your cousin and not your sister-in law.

I realized that any joke for The Commish is really a joke on me, considering the younger, very similar Brother, is my husband. Now, I am extremely comfortable making fun of Coach…so I may as well throw a few jokes at both of them.

Let’s just immediately address the hairline…. Though, that has recently worked to their benefit… I’m pretty sure; it was the key element for acceptance into the over 30 basketball league. And since I am at least a decade older than both of them…I don’t mind how they have aged.

I could mention that neither is much taller than an average woman… at least from where I am standing.

There’s the fact that they are brothers and cousins… a joke that never gets old for The Commish, though sometimes the joke is really on Jackie and I. Especially, when we are the only two houses in town with a Busch Lite box decorating our front porch, garbage cans that never make it to the curb and a steady stream of pregnancy announcements, out the door. Maybe, a little less Busch Lite, would solve that.

All three Brothers are instrumental in making Our Town a more beautiful place to live.

Warhol- beautifies the town... one bar wall painting at a time.
Coach- one hair cut at a time
And The Commish- one string of Christmas lights on Pine Cone path, at a time.
What would this town do, without their Impact?

Most would consider The Commish, the responsible brother. Sitting back with his great job, riding around in his Big Man truck, pulling up to his new house, buying new flashy golf carts on a whim… and if you make the mistake of asking him…he will happily list his investments and IRA accounts.
Though I am going to predict, ten years from now… when Eleven frantically calls home, to tattle on Tink, who just got herself and Twelve arrested (for at least the first time)…. Coach will be able to round up a couple grand in cash for bail money much faster. Just by running out to his truck or digging under the garage…where ever he is safely keeping it.

That all said, I would love to Toast this man, whom I adore.
Who will play the Imperial March on the drive to a Star Wars movie.
Who will eat dog food on a dare.
And who is dorky enough to be available for a quick phone call to discuss The DaVinci Code. (cuz we all know my husband can barely read.)
If not for The Commish, we may actually be allowed to shop at Sears, or Leap Frog or use any phone, electric or cable service we choose. Without needing to change our last name.
Screw the Mayan calendar….I think we should party like tonight may be the end of the world…it seems pretty clear to me, hell has frozen over….
Jackie has had more to drink than Coach (and that will never happen again)….
SB is in a bar, SOBER, married AND pregnant….(and it all happened in that order.)
and that little wrasler I first met 15 years ago, has turned into a 30 year old Democrat, dressed in a dinner jacket.
Happy Birthday Commissioner.

End Roast.

(The Commish and just one of his beautiful sisters)

The party was awesome. My face hurt from all of the laughing. We know some VERY funny people. I wish I could provide more pictures....but I did not even take my camera out until well after midnight. (which is why my normally, beautiful family may look a little blurry.) But the evening was 'just that bleepin fun'.
Job well done, Jackie.




PS- Commissioner, Jackie turns 30 this summer. She gave you a hard act to follow.

33

And....I have turned 33.
The number does not bother me.
There is always a brief moment just before my birthday, where I am reminded, I was not promised each additional year.
And while this blog is normally loaded with self-deprecating humour...I am grateful for what I have and what I have accomplished.
A few months ago I posted my 'Bucket List'. I felt today was a fitting time to remind myself of the great memories of my life.

33 things I am darned glad my life has given to me:
(remembering, I could easily, list another 200.)



1. The Kid
2. Tink
3. Coco
4. Married my husband, under a very blue sky, in our garden.
5. Purchased my grandparent's home and continued to fill it with babies.
6. Learned to take a great photograph and speak another language.
7. I stood in The Pacific, The Atlantic and The Gulf.
8. Graduated college
9. Read The Great Gatsby, four times.

10. Learned how to almost tame my curly hair, with lots of product.
11. Firmly established "Family Movie Night".
12. Joined the coolest Relay Team ever. We may not make the most money but we have the most fun, while hating on Cancer. Holla!
13. Became an aunt to 10 awesome kids.
14. Endured child birth 3 times. This may seem redundant after #1-3, but I feel I have earned a repeat.
15. Have a close relationship with my mother.
16. Saw Madonna in concert 3 times. Once, in Las Vegas, in a seat close enough to see her eye color.
17. Attended an exhibit of the largest collection of Monet paintings.
18. Have seen the Grand Canyon and stood on the Rocky Mountains.
19. 1985 Prom
20. Told a broken heart...who was boss.
21. Camped in Sedona and cliff dived.
22. Took The Kid to Florida.
23. Have an annual summer trip to Chicago with our children.
24. Been to a Cubs game, White Sox game, Bulls game and Bears game (when Walter Payton broke the rushing record.)

25. Walked to Odell.
26. Traveled all over the country, as a child, with my parents.
27. Have mastered cooking potatoes.
28. Started this blog.
29. Developed into a person, ridiculous enough to request Like a Prayer, and then dance to it totally alone, like a complete idiot, rather than let the request hang. While the other ladies are being brats. That was for you, Kahuna.
30. Witnessed, the greatest Beatle ever, sing Hey Jude, in concert.
31. Became a god-mother.
32. Lived.... even if it is with shots, doctors, unwanted medical advice from well-meaning, but occasionally annoying relatives, whom I love despite that, because...living, gave me all of the above.
33. Sometimes, ignored the medical advice and followed my heart...because that too has given me, all of the above....specifically, # Three.

So, Happy Birthday, to myself.
And, hello 33.
I am ready to see what memory you will give me.

This Coco's for you....

Happy Birthday, Flag Girl!
I'm excited for your next year of life. Full of hope, love and laughter.
Remember, how you were only semi excited for your most recent niece to be born... how she 'may be cute but could never be as Tink as Tink is'. Now, every time you need to feel warm, comfy and full... a cupful of Coco is your recipe for a better day.
Thanks for how you make us smile...we are happy every time we can return the favor.
Happy Birthday, our friend... we love you.
You are as strong as you are beautiful, as kind as you are sarcastic and as loving as you are loved.

Little advice...

If you are asked what your favorite whale is....
Do not answer, "I don't know..... a Killer Whale?"

Apparently, that is not really a whale. It is an 'orca' the largest member of the dolphin family.

If that had been your answer, you are a huge idiot.

Stay tuned, tomorrow, when I'll let you know the correct answer to:
"What is your favorite Volcano?"

Coco, get used to the shadow.

For the past week, I have tried desperately to get a cute picture of Coco.

For two reasons.
A.) She gets cuter every single day.
B.) I hate for her to become 'that third child' who looks back at the album and only finds a photo of herself on holidays.

Unfortunately, I am having a heck of a time trying to get a good shot of her.
I have sat her up, dressed her cute, placed her in front of a neutral background. Yet every time I try to get the picture...it just doesn't turn out.
I need suggestions, on how to improve my photography skills....








Any ideas?

I don't know, maybe change the lighting or the setting on my camera?

I asked Tink, why I can not get a cute picture of her sister, she replied...

"You can't neber take her picture. She not want it."

There you have it. I guess Coco was not meant for magazine covers, like her obviously, very photogenic and beautiful older sister.
Sorry, Coco.

Crazy Monday nights.

Dear Aunt Jackie or Grandma-

One of you, purchased The Kid, an Earth and Science Encyclopedia a couple years back.
To refresh your memory, the title reads:

Earth & Space
A fascinating question and answer book featuring amazing facts about our world and the Universe.

Whomever is responsible,
We do not thank you.
Last night, he literally carried it from after school....until bed.

I can not tell you how many times he began a sentence with:
"Did you know..."

And how many times I nearly responded:
"For the love of all that is good and holy, I don't know and I don't care!!"

Please admit your guilt.
If he picks that book up again this evening, I will be calling you.
Then you, may have the opportunity to answer fascinating questions, such as:

How do astronauts wash themselves?
What is a white giant?

and the best one...

What will happen to your body, if you are sucked into a black hole?

Answer:
In the last moments before you disappear forever into a black hole, the force of gravity would stretch your body apart until you are pulled into 'spaghettified" pieces.

I'll expect a confession, by 3:00pm today....have your Google warmed up and handy.

PS- If you get either of the girls' names in the Christmas exchange, please give them Barbies. I would rather watch Barbies kiss, than learn how people wash themselves in space.

Stomach Ulcers, stand up and fight back.

After pouring the remainder of my Diet Coke in the sink, I paused for a moment and watched the chemicals burn away the gunk collected around the drain. Like acid.
Causing me to consider...

A.) Maybe I should drink less Diet Coke.

and

B.) I should clean the bottom of my sink more frequently.

though it is more likely that

C.) None of the above will actually happen.

Diet Coke is good and the sink will just get dirty again.

Could you send Coach some love.

Coach could use a little bit of your love and well wishes, this week.
He has had some pretty heavy issues to deal with.
First and foremost, he began playing two (yes, TWO as in ONE and then another ONE) basketball leagues. There is always a little nervous moment, each year, where he wonders if he still has the ability to dribble....I am told, he most definitely does.
I have yoga, during league #1 night, so I miss all the fun. Shucks.
This was the first introduction, for Coco, into Daddy's basketball season. Poor Grandpa, now has the job of kinda, sorta watching THREE kids while he mostly watches his son, be awesome.

To prepare, Coco put on her first pair of Adidas Superstars for the occasion. (purchased by her father, 3 months after finding out I was pregnant, before we knew she was a girl).
She also wore the T-shirt, Daddy purchased for her....slash...for himself.
Welcome, to living in Daddy's World, Coco. The rest of us are pukingly aware of how great it is.

Second: Coach is called Coach, because he is one. Tonight, his boys have a BIG Game. Unfortunately, thanks to the bleepin weather, he missed two important practices this week. Road Conditions be darned, Coach really needed this time with "his kids". Direct quote.
I tried to remind him, thanks to the cancellations, he did spend more time at home, with "his kids".
Hard eye roll, directed towards me.




Last, if we all close our eyes, cross our fingers and just wish hard enough.
It may snow, a few more inches, buying Coach another day or two, on avoiding picking up the garbage cans from the curb.
His most dreaded chore.
It's just so darn hard, to walk all the way, down the drive.
Much harder and draining than say...I don't know....playing three hours of basketball.
So please send my husband some love, the poor dear really needs it.

Written by a girl who has kissed plenty of frogs...

Our little Tink, had never been to a movie. Well, Shrek 3 when she was 7 months old (she slept the entire movie) other than that...no.
Her brother has been to at least 30 or more movies.
Life isn't fair, I know.
Our defense:
We are DVD people. We would rather wait 5 months and purchase the movie at a lower price than attending the show. Our DVD collection has turned us into a bit of a Video Store. Free rentals for an unlimited amount of time....unless it is Tink's movie of the week, then you'd better return that quick.
Anyway, if the movie is not dubbed "A must see in the theatre" then we don't. Which pretty much knocks out all of Tink's choices. Now when the Kid wants Harry Potter, Spiderman, Transformers or Batman... we are there.
As part of her Christmas present, we decided Tink needed a movie date. With all the fixens. That movie, would be "Princess and the Frog".
Apparently, Jackie was brewing up the same idea for Tink's BCF (Best Cousin Forever) and Santa brought both girls matching Princess dolls in preparation. How he knew to do that, I'll never know.
We were both busy with a million Christmas parties (most of the time, we were attending the same parties) and decided to postpone the adventure.
After leaving Coco and a lip trembling Kid with Grammy (heartbroken because 'He never gets to do anything fun'.) Coach, Tink and I headed out on a date.
We met The Commissioner, Jackie and Eleven and began our evening at Pizza Hut. A date treat, Coach very much appreciated. The girls sat together, whispering. The adults ate ourselves stupid full. I declared "No popcorn for me! I'm stuffed".

Within seconds of entering the theatre, I changed my mind on the popcorn. I was still very much stuffed but they played their Jedi Buttered Popcorn mind tricks on me and I had no choice.
The girls were very excited and took a picture with their matching dolls. Matching in the sense that Eleven's doll is perfect and Tink's doll is missing both shoes, the crown, the necklace and one glove.
That's Tink for you. Even her dolls are disheveled.


Tink was not prepared for what she would see.
"Dat's a big T.B.!!"
(No tuberculosis outbreak present, just her voice)
She had a little trouble with the seat.
If you can see...her feet are folded up, nearly as high as her head.


She got serious, settled in and loved the experience.
Luckily, if you pick a school night, several weeks after release, you are the ONLY people in the theatre. Allowing you the freedom to talk in regular voice (which still feels forbidden) and not turn your cell phone off. We are pretty bold.
Put that in your pipe, movie people!
During the movie, Tink danced, clapped and smiled.
She got a little nervous during the voodoo and nonchalantly climbed in my lap.
I suffered through the snuggle. It was tough.
Coach tried twice to coax her over to him...no go.

How pretty is that face? She looks so grown up.

Recap:
The movie was excellent.
Tink loved her date. We would happily repeat the experience.
Coach loved his date...to Pizza Hut, with his brother.
I discovered, following the movie, that I had a tiny bit of napkin stuck in my glasses from when I cleaned them at the Hut. After questioning the group, they claimed, none of them had seen it.
Making them great liars....
OR
...just proving, when you have 2 cute three-year old girls on the date....no one is going to waste the time looking at a 30-something mom.
I don't blame them....those girls are too much.

Somebody should have warned me...sunscreen would cost less than a chemical peel.

One of my new bathroom purchases was an ultra-high magnifying flip mirror.
It was recently hung.
Foolishly, I was very excited, for my future eyebrows.
Last night, while the children slept, I grabbed the tweezers for a quick clean-up.
25 minutes later, I emerged with a complete map of every freckle, sunspot, pore, wrinkle and blemish. A voyage, I had not properly, prepared myself to take.
Maybe, those teenage years in the pool, were a mistake.
Maybe, purchasing that mirror, was a more fatal mistake.


This morning, I spent nearly an hour, clearing and organizing my kitchen cabinets to accommodate my new wine glasses. A Christmas grab-bag gift.
Positioned, front and center, on their very own shelf.


Do you find these two activities to be unrelated?
Chronologically or in subject matter?

Nope.
Me either.

Winter is nobody's friend.

I gathered up the Christmas decorations....exposing a month's worth of dust under each knickknack.
We took out the tree....leaving a needle trail that nearly reached the bedrooms. Understanding, that I will still be sweeping needles up in April...ok, really in July.
Due to the tundra, we now live in....the furnace is running continuously, blowing around the dust and needles.
It is too cold to drive to the grocery store....though, not too cold to pick up Chinese take out.
2 days in a row.
I have turned into my father....and have covered the bottom of the storm doors with rolled up towels.
I wore the same sweats for more than 24 hours....hiding my holiday weight, enforcing Tink's pajama habits and ensuring there is no way my husband will ever find me attractive again.
In addition...we also had guests.
Soon, I will be forced to admit....that I should not blame 'holiday weight' if I am eating Chinese twice, in one weekend.
Except, it was New Year's weekend....that counts as a holiday, right?
The cold...hurts me.
Nice of you to join us January...now, screw off.

New Year's Day reminds me of fresh starts.

New Year's Day, will always be remembered as the day Coach proposed to me.

Coach-
If you asked me again today....I would maybe, probably still say yes.
Well, I'm at least 98% sure, I would definitely, at least consider the offer.

New Year's Day is also, traditionally, the day our Relay team gathers to plan our dance.
Only 6 more weeks until our 1955 Sweetheart Sock Hop.
Wish us luck and great ideas!