Another Snow Day without Blagojevich

How in the hell am I supposed to keep up with Blagojevich? How am I supposed to maintain my civil-mindedness with all this madness flailing about me? How am I supposed to create my regular Tuesday blog, Holiday Fat Ass today with all of my children spinning about as if some invisible good-for-nothing were pulling their collective strings all at once?

It’s another snow day. Few words in the English language evoke such panic for a mother of 5 … because it’s not indicative of having 5 children at home, bored, and looking for any type of stimulation that might give them the high they usually get from a day at school … ok that might be overstating how much they appreciate their education, but nevertheless … it’s indicative of 5 children with at least 5 friends all eating and pulling out stuff and basically carousing like there’s a full on frat party taking place in my front living room … and secretly ... I absolutely adore it.

Perhaps it's because my favorite book as a child was "Snowy Day" by Ezra Jack Keats.

I love that my children’s friends love to come here. That’s how it was for me growing up. My friends loved my house … they loved my parents. And not because they let us get drunk in the basement, they loved them because they gave us a space … not without occasional screaming from my Dad … who would yell, often, “Don’t you people have a home?” from his bedroom door. Though we kept him up too late, often making him late for work the next day, he and my mother encouraged us to have fun and nurtured those friendships like they were tending a garden. I love that about them for many reasons. For one, the friends I had growing up are still my very best friends today. They are the first ones I call when something wonderful happens and they are the very first ones I call when something awful happens. But, more importantly, my parents set the perfect example of what “home” is for me and I am much more able (and willing) to provide that for my own children.

My snow days were much different than todays snow days are. I played outside, regardless of the temperature or my age and only came in to warm up … often so cold that a hot bath was required. My kids are somewhat interested in going outside to play … but mostly interested in Wii and ipods and computers … perhaps a little texting …fighting is a big “hit” as well (hahaha) … but, eating is at the top of the list, which automatically employs me as their short order cook, waitress, and dishwasher … so far this morning, I’ve made sausage links, waffles – 3 times, strawberry smoothies, several bowls of cereal and snipped the plastic wrapper on at least thirteen beef jerky packages. It’s as if they are carbing up for their Everest ascent or preparing for a hibernation that I am certain is not in my future.

With all of this going on, I just can’t focus on President Elect Obama’s Education secretary or the new evidence that may or may not prove that Casey Anthony killed her beautiful little daughter, Caylee. I don’t even have time to stew over the tragic spectacle that is the BCS, much less express my disappointment regarding Sam Bradford’s Heisman Trophy win. How am I supposed to carry on the life I’ve built for myself … the life that exists between eight a.m. and three p.m. … it’s apparently impossible and for that I am somewhat ... thrilled. Thrilled to have a little extra time to spend with the people I love the most and enthralled to make their cocoa and cookies and cinnamon toast with the crust cut off.

I had never really though much about the dichotomy of my “life” … my day life and my evening life. I guess it’s something like day and evening make-up. During the day your make-up is a bit more demure, conservative and during the evening, basically, anything goes ~ bring on the super smoky eyes or some brilliantly perfect, red lipstick. That’s my life ~ during the day … I follow politics, I blog, I think. After three, I cook, I clean, I nurture, I help with homework, I read stories and I listen … I love.

So … to hell with impending impeachment and the possibility of my favorite Kennedy’s senatorial bid … forget about shoe-throwing (even though I could watch that clip a million times and especially love that President Bush smiles during the attack ... he grins ... how cute is that???) and the Madoff scandal (what a complete SOB) … those things will be there tomorrow when the sun comes out and the bus pulls up in front of my house. Today I’m ten years old ... and it's a snow day. Hooooorayyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me & My Cadaver ...

If you follow this, you know that I have a cadaver bone "grafting" in my jaw right now. If you didn't know, you can read about it here. Aside from being totally creeped out by the whole idea of having an "unknown" bone growing in my MOUTH, I am healing well. The bone area is still a bit sore & bits of food get stuck in the hole left by my original tooth, but all in all, it's going better than I expected. My cadaver bone does not like the cold though ... so I've spent most of the week with a thick fleece scarf wrapped around my neck & the bottom part of my face ... I'm certain I look much better this way.

Other than the obvious benefit of my bone allowing me to get a tooth implant later (in a few months after the cadaver bone has grown to my bone) this totally gross endeavor gives me a couple of other options: (1) Selective Tourette's (I'm thinking I'll use this one a lot) and possibly (2) cadaver posession. If Giant's superbowl star David Tyree can exploit his devil posession for good, I think it might work for me, too.

Actually, I'm not planning to exploit my cadaver in any of those ways. I'm actually very thankful for that little piece of bone ... and that's not all. I had a bit of a reality check this week when I said something to someone I adore ... someone so sweet and so kind ... I answered her dismissively; without considering her feelings at all ... and though she wasn't upset in the least (I'm not even sure she noticed) ... I noticed & I was very upset ... with myself. I don't want to be that person ... that person that takes all the blessings and wonderful karma they've received with a grain of salt. I don't want to be that person that lacks what I consider to be the best quality of them all ... gratitude.

I felt like John McCain. Remember when he was trying to explain the moxy of his aged mother and he recounted the story of her trip to Paris … the one in which she wasn’t allowed to rent a car because she was too old and so instead she bought a car and conducted her tour of the City of Lights … just as she wished to do. Outrage erupted. “How dare he tell such a story when 30 percent of this country lives in poverty.” “He’s so rich … he doesn’t understand America.” “We’re in a recession … the market is bottoming out and he’s telling a story about his silver-spoon mother's life.” I was annoyed with that anecdote as well … even though I knew what his intention was … and it surely wasn’t to annoy me and the rest of the voting populace … it was just the wrong story at the wrong time, and maybe there’s no time for a story like that outside of your immediate family … I don’t know.

I do know I did something similar to that this week though and I also know that my heart isn’t hard-wired that way. I know that inside of me is a person who could live without all of the luxuries I have. I am just so damn lucky. I have five beautiful, smart, healthy children. I have a wonderful home. I have a terrific, loving husband. I’ve had a career that I loved and jobs that I wanted to go to every single day. I have amazing friends that I've had since childhood and many, many that haven't been around that long. I don’t know how or why I’ve been so blessed with these things … I’ve never done anything to buy me that kind of karma … and I’m grateful. I’m grateful to the core of my soul.

And so it's my mission ... every single day ... to get up and thank God. Thank him for blessing me with this amazing life and for showing me his grace, even when I don't deserve it.

Passive Aggressive Is as Passive Aggressive Does

I wish I could be like Stacey. She faces all confrontation head-on ... you always know exactly where you stand. I admire that.

But ... that's just not me. I'm totally non-confrontational ... I have a "side", but I keep it to myself mostly ... only erupting at what seems to be the very last moment ... which results in mostly confusion and never in resolution.

I'm in a mood today. Rob is out of town and I've been here a good while ... alone with the children. Not that that is a big problem; they are my kids too ... but it irks the piss out of me when he's off on a trip ~ eating out and going to bed early without any laundry or dishes to do ... and I'm stuck here in what appears to be the drop zone for a previously detonated atomic weapon. Everyone is on edge and behaving much worse than usual.

That includes me ... but not in the way you might think. Oh ... I'm smiling and laughing and playing with the kiddos ~ same as everyday ... but I've let this house go to hell and I ordered pizza (he really hates that). The best part ... I did it all with intent ... on purpose. All the toy boxes are dumped out ... there's a mountain of laundry & the beds are unmade ... and I don't care. Well, I do care a little, but this is my way of getting back at my sweet & caring husband (who is on a BUSINESS trip) for leaving me ... childish and petty I know ... but a girl like me has to have something.

In my mind this is better than just being bitchy or taking it out on him in person ... because clearly he doesn't deserve any "punishment" for doing his job ... but I hate it when he's gone. Not because I'm codependent or anything, but because it's not fair. I say "it's not fair" because that is his least favorite phrase on earth ... it drives him nuts!!!

I'm sure there's a specific therapy or medication that might help me with this disorder, but I'm really not interested. All I'm interested in right now is keeping an eye on the clock ... so I can clean all this crap up before he gets home ... well, most of it anyway. I have to get something out of the bargain ... right???

There's A Dead Person Living In My Mouth

It began with a Milky Way candy bar that led to a visit to the dentist for a broken tooth on November 18th. A temporary filling and another appointment would do then trick … then I would need a crown. OK ~ whatever … just fix it already … it’s already been two hours. Well, that didn't work because my drill-happy dental masochist dug too far and revealed the nerve. That fiasco led me to another dental professional who attempted a root canal. I laid there staring in the bright light with tears running down towards my ears for over an hour … not because it hurt, but because I could sense that something was not going right. After stabbing me with Novocain at least sixteen times, including injecting me directly between the tooth and gum, he was unable to numb the tooth enough to do the root canal.


By then, it’s the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. I have two options … get IV sedation and have a root canal & then a crown or get IV sedation and have the tooth removed. ???choices~choices??? It's hurting like a super-bitch rehabbing from a decade long meth addiction on a dirty bathroom floor in an abandoned Exxon station off an unused exit ramp to nowhere.

Let me just say, I am dental phobic … excessively and unreasonably … completely and unapologetically.

Finally, yesterday, I got my IV sedation (which is worth every damn penny, may I add) and had my tooth removed, #18, to be exact, so a permanent tooth implant can be performed (under sedation, I hope) at a later date.

Now I have another problem. When my tooth was removed, I had to have a bone graft … a cadaver bone is now growing inside my mouth. Maybe this isn’t as traumatic if it’s in your elbow or your pinky toe, but the thought of a dead person’s bone sitting inside my jaw, while the wound oozes and squoozes post operative gunk into my mouth is making me quite nauseous. Not so much the oozy gunk, but the idea that some of that gunk sort of “belongs” to someone else. When I finally woke up from a ten hour nap last night and began taking the prescribed meds, I wondered what the nausea pills were for … I felt fine and hadn’t eaten for the required time before sedation … apparently the nausea meds are for the fact that there’s a dead person grafting in my mouth right now.

A man? A woman? A human, I hope, but really have no way of knowing. Do they call dead animals cadavers or is that a term used only for people? Is this what people who receive organ donations go through? Of course, that’s a life-or-death matter and this is quite less significant, but is the “feeling” the same? I, for one, feel totally creeped out by the whole thing … completely and totally creeped out. How long was the bone cadavered or dead or whatever??? How much do cadaver bones go for??? When you sign your organ donation card, does that include your bones too … and which bones??? Did my dentist buy my cadaver bone or was it donated at all? If so, who “sells” their dead bones??? What kind of person does that??? I can’t even think about that right now.

The cadaver bone will grow to my jawbone and will eventually become the platform for my implant tooth. This will take four to six months. I wonder, in four to six months, when the cadaver bone becomes part of my bone … what that will mean. Is that a type of resurrection for the bone or for the spirit of the bone or for the person who once possessed and grew that bone for him or herself? As a complexly spiritual person (meaning that there isn’t one exact definition that suits my belief and faith), I am concerned about that. I am concerned about the legacy of my cadaver bone. This all sounded really crazy in my head, and now that it’s in print, it sounds even crazier, but it’s true … so why not just say it? Without the bone, I wouldn’t be able to successfully have an implant …which would lead to me losing another tooth (the one directly above sweet, little #18) … so I really do owe the cadaver something for his/her bone … right???

I wonder if this bone was specifically sent to me by the universe … am I it’s designated carrier … chosen to give it new life in order for something greater to be carried out or has the bone become a part of me … it’s destiny to augment mine in some weird cosmic way? Or, maybe, it’s just a frozen bone and it will hold my new fake tooth in place so I can scarf down caramel corn and taffy for a few more decades … hard to say at this point … but I’m anxious to find out.

So ~ I guess all that’s left to say is “Thank you, Cadaver” … good luck out there in the universe. I will always be grateful. I really do love caramel corn.

Holiday Fat Ass ~ Hot Spiced Bordeaux w/ Citrus

First of all, any recipe that calls for a gallon of wine is, well, certainly the best recipe ever!!! And when it comes to holidays, a gallon of wine is not only delicious, it is necessary!!! So, drink up!!!



To start ~ bring 9 ounces of lemonade concentrate, 1/4 cup of whole cloves, 8 cinnamon sticks, and about 1 cup of sugar to a boil. This smells so good, you might be tempted to drink it right from the pan ... don't, hot boiled sugar syrup will eat the skin right off your lips ... making smooching under the mistletoe quite impossible. Resist the urge and settle for having your home smell like a Christmas paradise. Once the contents get to a good boil, reduce the heat to low and let it simmer for about 20 minutes.

At this point, you can store the syrup in a glass jar for about a week in the fridge ~ or you can just move forward with the recipe.

Stir one gallon of claret or bordeaux, depending on where you live, (or your favorite bordeaux-ish red) with the syrup in a large pot and warm it over low heat. Add slices of lemon, orange, and/or star fruit ... whatever floats your boat ... ladle into mugs ~ YUMMY!!!

Whatever you do, DO NOT add a candy cane to the mug as a garnish ... this will result in the absolutely most disgusting thing you've ever tasted. I know you're going to try it ... just consider yourself warned!!! Go with a cinnamon stick ... just as clever and much more appetizingly appropriate.

***You can keep this warm all day in the crock pot with minimal evaporation.***

This recipe is also recession proof ... you can use your favorite expensive wine or you can use any old cheap-ass wine from the bottom shelf ... the results are equally as delicious and intoxicating.

Enjoy & Happy Holidays!!!

Old Friends & Decapitation

This weekend, we got our Christmas decorations out and started the job of sorting nick-nacks and shuffling odds-&-ends from box to box ~ putting out the good and throwing out the bad. In the very last box I came across an old friend that has graced our home for more than a decade. To a stranger, it may not look like much (after years of wear & tear), but it's always been one of my very favorite Christmas things ~ because Lee gave it to me.

Can you see the little golden reindeer on the front steps (picture from '06 or '07)?

Lee is the first person I remember (other than family) which makes him my very oldest friend.

(how else would I have gotten this picture)

And even though we don't see each other very much, he will always be one of my favorite people in the world.

Summer 2008: The Ivy Knoll Gang

He also gave Robbie & I these doves one Christmas. I think they are older than the reindeer and they go near the top of our tree every year. If I remember correctly, he was inspired by one of the "Home Alone" movies.

I'm working up to a point here ... and it's not to Crown Lee the King of Christmas or to assert that Scott & Darryl & Barry are merely tarnished little stars on my Christmas tree of Memories ...

It's this ... Christmas is the ultimate memory maker. I just can't imagine who I would be without the amazing memories this holiday gave me growing up ... I can't imagine what those years would have been like without my friends and my parents ... without the super-fun parties and hilarious gag gifts. Remember that time, Chris Thurman put the "Give Me Head 'Til I'm Dead" bumper sticker on Dad's back??? Remember those X-mas Thongs mom gave to Lee, Scott, Darryl, & Barry (pictures not included to protect the employed). Remember when Donnie Hanson got beat up by ... who was that??? Kevin Williams ... ??? Remember when my Uncle Carl tried to sell Darryl & Scott that 'magic' fruit??? Remember those "I Love Uncle Lee" t-shirts??? ... I could go on forever ...

That little reindeer and those two doves give all of that back to me ... every single year.

I look at them and I laugh my head off and sometimes I even cry ... they are tied to who I am inside ... to who my friends helped me to become (thank you) and I know that I am so blessed and grateful for every minute I have had with them ... and I am looking forward to making more memories in the years to come.

Even though I'm all grown up now and have a family of my own and the memories keep on coming, I will always cherish those Christmases with my friends and know that those memories are among the best gifts I've ever received and nothing can ever take that away ...

not even decapitation:

(Little Golden Reindeer 2008 ~ awaiting repair surgery)

So I encourage all of you ... every single one of you ... young & old ... to make a memory this year ... with your friends, with your kids or your spouse ... or with a complete stranger ~ just make a memory and then stamp it with something that will help you hold on to it forever. You won't regret it ... I promise!

Merry, Merry Christmas & Much Love To All Of You