I Miss Norm!!

I LOVE holidays! Ask anyone. I'm the biggest fan of holiday food, decorations, festive parties, cheerful songs, etc... but I've decided this year that what I REALLY want the most is normalcy. The last year was packed full of event after event and this upcoming year is going to be equally as full... all I want is for things to be normal, just for a few minutes, so that I can get back to some form of a schedule. My back goes out... can I see my chiropractor this week? No! Why? Because he's gone for the holidays. Can I get my clients information on upcoming programs? No! Because they're all closed until January 3rd. Not to mention the numerous client no-shows for the past month due to them "forgetting" we had an appointment in all of the holiday rush... really, people? Write it down like the rest of the world has to (I even bought them planners... you'd think that would help but it doesn't!). And it only figures that one of the dogs would crap on the rug today while we were gone... heck, the holidays have messed up my "regularity" (pardon the crudeness), so why shouldn't it mess up theirs? New Years, please come quickly... and then go away! (This here ends the rant of the Grinch of New Years Present.)

Who Needs Mistletoe

Nothing says "Happy Holidays!" quite like a spousal argument, silent treatment, and a fist-full of stubborness. Needless to say, our holidays were incredibly happy during our trip back home from Michigan after a meaningless argument over packing the car. Equally as fun was our decision to carry this argument over for another full day ('cause that's obviously both therapeutic and healthy of us.... good thing I'm a therapist and he works in the mental health field and that we're both VERY well-versed in conflict resolution and positive coping skills. If the tax-payers only knew that we refuse to apply these skills to our personal lives....) Anyways, we continued to be nasty before ignoring the conflict for the rest of the day (always the best approach, really). The only problem was that I grew tired of being stubborn and "right" or "justified" today (maybe I'm being a softy, or maybe I'm just getting too old, lacking the amount of stamina needed to keep a good fight going for too long anymore). I didn't WANT to be right if it meant feeling alone in this big house for another night (I'd rather feel like a real couple again... as we walk away to our now full-time separate bedrooms).
I held my ground till I got home from work this evening... I tried to pass him by in the driveway and just go inside until my "rightful" apology came. But I couldn't do it. I needed my welcome-home hug and my comforting evening kiss. So I took it. I didn't need mistletoe, I just needed my husband.

Merry Christmas Eve

Well, our Christmas in Michigan has officially begun. We've watched holiday movies, we started (and probably will never complete) a holiday puzzle, and we attended our Christmas Eve party with family. The holiday spirit is in full swing, except for one small oversight on my part. I forgot to get my husband a card to open on Christmas morning with his presents (it's my first year at this, cut me some slack). So Hubby was on his way to run a few errands this morning and asked if I needed anything... I told him that I needed a card for him still and asked if he would wait for me to come with him. He apparently didn't want to wait for an hour until I got cleaned up, so he went without me. He DID, however, return home with a card that he bought FOR HIMSELF that is to be from me. The card's cover has a big teddy bear on it and says "For A Very Special Boy!" It is literally a card for a 6-year-old. So I signed it and put it underneath the tree. He is, afterall, a very special boy.

Log Flippin' Chaos

Tomorrow we leave for Michigan to have Christmas with my family, but we realized that two of our gifts were really just too big to pack into the car (the one for me being so big that it would probably not even fit ON the car... what could it be, what could it be!!!). So we decided to have Christmas with our big gifts tonight. I am now the proud owner of a BEAUTIFUL end-of-the-bed bench that will hold my throw pillows in it's spacious storage area (instead of keeping them on top of the hamper or dog beds), which comes along with two lovely, chocolate-colored wooden breakfast-in-bed trays. I'm super pumped!! (Which is more than I can say for the gift that I bought for my husband... he likes it, but a log flipper for cutting wood seems so far from festive to a girly, inside-girl like myself.)
The story behind the log flipper is this. When I went to the store to purchase his gift (I'm not going to name the store in order to protect those who may work there from the verbal beating that follows), I walked around the building for literally 45 minutes trying to corner someone into helping me. I found a guy wearing a store t-shirt, but he was off-duty. Luckily (or not), he chose to point me to the isle I needed (keep in mind I have a Christmas list with a bunch of gift suggestions on it, none of which I've ever heard of in the first place), only the "tool" sent me to an isle that had NOTHING to do with log flippers or head-lamp-high-lumen-thingies. So I had to wait in line at the register just to have someone paged.... someone that NEVER CAME! So I waited in line AGAIN and had the same idiot paged to the front.... I was beginning to think the entire world of Tractor Supplies was against me (ooops, did I give that away??). Anyway, once the hick version of a boy band member finally did his job, we find out that the specific log flipper that I had on my list was not going to be sold at THAT particular store, but I was more than welcome to try their Ohio branches. Well, that's great news! I could've driven to Ohio and back in the time it took to get that answer! Congratulations, pimple face, for completely taking me out of the Christmas spirit and making me want to steal your family's last bit of Who Hash..... So I bought a different log flipper. It will still flip logs and my man will be none the wiser (until he reads this....).

I've Eaten My Weight In Cookies

My body is apparently trying to rename Christmas as Bingemas....if I eat just one more Christmas cookie.... (well, I'd like to end that with "i'll barf" or "i'll just die", but in all liklihood, I'll simply enjoy it and keep eating). I spent the weekend making brownies and cookies for holiday parties, and I don't know how it happened, but it was a modern day 7-loaves-2-fishes miracle.... I just kept putting the batter and dough into the oven, and more cookies and brownies just kept forming. Between my miracle mixing bowls and my miracle measuring cups, I'm going to need some miracle pants (preferably ones with an elastic waist) to deal with this miracle gut I've developed.
To prove just how sick I really am, I actually felt ill from the smell of the baked goods and had to retreat to the basement to do laundry until the nausea passed. Any sane person would recognize this as their body's way of saying, "Hey, fatty, enough is enough for today. Pack it up and try again tomorrow." But since I'm NOT sane, my body said "Hey, you're not nauseous anymore! You should celebrate by eating more sweets until that little bit of regurgitation and stomach acid tickles the back of your throat... and even then, just wash it down with some milk until the moment passes and keep on truckin'!" And I was doing so well with the diet too, even on Thanksgiving.... I blame the Schwanns man (everyone needs a scapegoat, right??).

Little Coaster Eaters

As much as I like to blame my husband for things, this one I can't seem to pin on him. One of our little furry munchkins (HIS dog) has been chewing things around the house. Perhaps she's bored, maybe she's jealous, but either way, we know it's her. The other day, I came home to one of our new coasters chewed to shreds and strewn about the house.... naturally, we blamed her (well, I also blamed Pat for leaving the door open to the room where the coasters are currently residing... he took the brow beating rather graciously).
Today, however, I had to suck it up and take responsibility for my own lack of door closing, as well as for my own little furball. As I pulled up to the house, Milo did his usual move and ran to the window to see who had arrived (tail wagging, causing full-body wagging in the window... it's really very cute). Molly joined in, body wagging, thoroughly happy to see me, completely unaware that she has done something wrong.... as I stared at her through the window, my mouth dropped when I noticed that she didn't have a raw hide in her mouth, but one of our coasters with the letter "C" on it... a wedding present.
I tried scolding her through the window, but she just wagged away, so happy I was home. When I got inside, I took the coaster away and scolded her (which I'm pretty sure just confused the crap out of the poor girl; she rolled onto her back very submissively just before kissing/soaking my entire leg). I went to put the chewed coaster with the rest of the pile. But wait.... the rest of the pile was gone. Vanished. Shreds of little coaster parts littered the floor. She ate the entire pile of coasters (at least 8 were in that pile!).... they really do resemble her treats (in her defense) and I couldn't blame my husband (he wasn't even home). I saved the chewed coaster.... it was a wedding gift, afterall.

Jello Leg Syndrome

It turns out that the Rotten Eggs was a precursor to someone getting the flu today. After an upset stomach all morning, my hubby attempted to go to work, only to turn around and come right back home (stopping along the way, trying not to get sick in his truck). So we cancelled our plans for the evening and stayed home, lounging and relaxing until he felt better.
Strangely enough, lounging turned my left leg into jello. Seriously. How did I know that my leg was jello? Well, I started out standing, and I ended up on the ground, that's how I know. It must have been quite the sight. I literally took a step out of bed (and this is where the slippery wood floors and the super soft socks got the better of me) and my knee just stopped being a knee, leaving me to crumble to the ground. I stood back up and locked my knee (which worked wonders) and then I bent it to take a step and down I went. AGAIN! This occurred about 6 or so times. No pain, no problems when the knee was locked, the dumb thing just wouldn't work when it was bent! So I straight-legged it back into bed where my knee began cramping, so I decided to go with it and play lame for another hour and a half. Apparently that was my leg's way of telling me that I needed more television time, because after I watched a few more shows, my knee was ready to join the land of the walking again. And so our house is back to full health once more.