i dON't wANNA gO tO rEHab...

It has been a week or two since my last update.

While I have many an anecdote I'd like to share, my ability to form a sentence that doesn't start with "cookie" and end with "coconut goodness" has been hindered, due to the fact that I have been a little preoccupied with these:

(Dees be da devils cookies!)

How did I get in this predicament?

One of Satan's little helpers disguised as this:

Can't you just see the evil in their eyes? Oh sure, they look all sweet and smiley with their, "Hello Ma'ams!" and their "Would you like to try a free sample?"

Sample? Try the gateway to a darkness that will have you sneaking into the kitchen late at night, pulling a box out from your secret hiding place ("Oh, sorry Honey! The cookies are all gone."), and shoveling every last morsel into your mouth until you are left in a cookie induced coma, only to be awoken by the screams of your children when the find you, laying in a pile of crumbs and your own saliva, the next morning.

Did they have to take an X-ray to see if i had swallowed a piece of the plastic that held the cookies?

Maybe.

Did that stop me from buying 2 more boxes?

Maybe not.

I shudder to think where this path will lead me. My eyes becoming all "googly" and bugged out. My skin changing colors and possibly even growing hair. My brain so fried that my only way of communicating is to mumble "me want coo-kie" or "yum, yum, yum", like a two year old child.

We've all seen this before, haven't we?

(Give me the strength to accept the things I can't turn into cookies, and the wisdom to eat those that I can...)

Don't worry. I'm not like him. I'm not an addict. I can stop anytime I want, no problem.

And I will.

Just, after this last cookie......

(yum, yum, yum)

Life Lessons from Milton Bradley

Nap time.

I believe those are the two most beautiful words in the English language. (Well, that and "chocolate cake", but let's not dissect my incessant need to eat my emotions just yet.) It's the time of day when my sweet Mimi must cease creating any new artistic renderings on my walls and head off to beddy-by for some much needed sleep. While Ava, sensing the rapid decent of her Mommy's sanity, retires to her room, not to be heard from until her self imposed "quiet time" is over.

I think most Moms will agree that this is a very necessary part of our day. Whether the time is used to complete a chore from start to finish (a very rare occurrence with a child under foot) or to sit for a moment and relish in the absence of screaming, whining and/or crying, nap time can be the answer to every worn out Mother's prayers.

However, one afternoon, after I had tucked little Mia into bed and began surveying the damage from what had to have been a pack of wild, rabid dogs and not two sweet little girls, I noticed Ava obediently gathering her belongings and starting for the stairs. Suddenly, a wave of sadness came over me. I was startled by how grown-up she looked. The temporary nature of our time together hit me like a ton of bricks.

I resisted the urged to rip into the box of powdered doughnuts that sat on my counter. ("Talk about your feelings, Christy, don't eat them!")

I couldn't let Ava go upstairs while the clock continued to tick away the minutes of our time together. Not today, anyway.

"Ava, do you want to play a game with me?"

She stood frozen on the stairs.

"B-but, it's quiet time." she stuttered. "Don't you want me to go to my room?"

I mentally recalled the countless times I had pointed to the stairs with a crazed look in my eye, threatening to sell my children on EBay if they did not take leave to their respective bedrooms for "quiet time". This could have had something to do with Ava's hesitation.

"That's OK, Avs. Let's just you and I play a game while Mia takes her nap".

Ava let out her trademark "squeal of approval" as she ran off to fetch Candyland. Her excitement translated into non-stop chatter as she carefully pulled out each piece of the game and assembled it. I silently scolded myself for not taking advantage of this one-on-one time sooner.

At the beginning of our game, Ava was flying high. She couldn't pick a bad card if she wanted to. I was trailing way back in the Peppermint Forest while her series of lucky draws had brought her clear to Lollipop Woods. I couldn't help but get caught up in her excitement as we clapped and cheered for every move she made toward the finish line.

With only a few more spaces to go, she turned over the next card.

"Yay! The Gingerbr- oh, wait a minute. The gingerbread space is way back at the beginning. Do I have to go to the beginning again Mom?!?"

Those giant blue saucers, we refer to as eyes, began to well up with tears. The sheer thought of starting the game all over again was devastating to her. It broke my heart. (This time the doughnuts won. Their white powder of shame stayed on my face for half the day.)

I wanted to fix the game for her. To invoke the "That card didn't count because you are so pretty" rule. But I knew that wouldn't help her the next time she sat down with her friends to play. I could picture them calling the game "on account of vain."

"I know it stinks, Honey, but sometimes we draw good cards, and sometimes we draw bad cards. I may win this game, but you could win the next time. The important thing is to have a good attitude when you play."

The thought of a win somewhere in her future gave her the strength to finish out the game. She even mustered up a very genuine "Yay Mommy!" when I won. We continued on to play 2 more games and subsequently, she won both of them. I was thrilled.

As she happily picked up the stray cards and put the game away, I was struck once again with a wave of sadness. Soon enough, she will be spending more time away from me than with me, and I won't have any control over the "cards" she is dealt. Of course I will clap and rejoice for every good card she chooses, but I know that when I look into her tear-filled eyes, I will desperately want to "fix" things when the game isn't going her way. Is there anyway life will accept the "because she's so pretty" rule?

One thing I know for sure, I will always be there to cheer her on, win or lose, no matter how many times she needs to start the game over.

Well, me and my box of doughnuts, that is.....

The Twilight Of My Life

Blood thirsty Vampire or Middle Aged "Meanie" ?

The persistent pounding of my heart was so loud, I was certain the other moviegoers would hear it and complain. I felt little beads of sweat beginning to form on my forehead. I tried to regain composure and rid myself of the irrational thoughts that had made their way into my mind.

"Just keep watching the movie. This has to be a mistake!"

But it wasn't a mistake. Just as sure as I was sitting there, eating Sour Patch Kids by the pound, her cold, steely eyes were staring back at me. I had seen this look before, very recently in fact. But where??

Nagging pangs of recognition lead my frightened gaze to the images in the film in front of me. I gasped as the figures on the screen seemed to mirror back her cold, dead stare, confirming my deepest fears.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Kara has been one of my dearest friends since those gawky, carefree days of High School. Our history of inside jokes is so extensive, that we need only to look at one another for a fit of giggles to come rolling out. Seemingly ordinary words like "pickle" and "galleria" have the ability to make us lose all control of our bladders. It is because of this history that we get together whenever possible to reminisce and laugh until Diet Coke sprays out of our noses.

Over the holidays, we made plans to meet for dinner and catch up on each other's lives. Our feast was filled with good food and much laughter. As the meal was coming to a close, somehow the subject of the Twilight movie was brought up. (When I say "somehow", picture an appalled Kara leaping forward in her seat- pieces of her BBQ chicken salad flying everywhere- screaming "You haven't seen it yet!?!) My Kara is quite the fan of the Twilight. (When I say "fan" picture her sitting on her "I heart Vampires" bedspread, wearing her "Bite Me.....Please" pajamas, and doodling "Mrs. Edward Cullen" in her diary while drawing fake vampire bites on her neck with washable markers.) We agreed that she should be the one to initiate me into the world of vampires on the big screen. Luckily I had read the books, thanks to the generosity of another #1 fan, so the story was not foreign to me. Although, I did have some doubt as to whether Kara would be able to follow along, seeing as how she had only seen the movie s.i.x. t.i.m.e.s. (I don't think I have watched my children's birth videos that much.)

After purchasing our tickets with a "student discount" (What? I can pass for a student. If I cover the picture w/ my thumb and wiggle the card so the cashier's eyes can't focus) we settled excitedly into our seats. Kara educated me on some little known movie facts ("That vampire does his own stunt work!") as the theatre began to fill up.

The lights dimmed. Kara squealed. It was Twilight time.

We were about a third of the way into the movie. I was actually enjoying my first experience with these ghostly pale teens who *really* enjoy their eyeliner. And then it happened. The woman in front of us answered her cell phone. I felt myself tense up as I glanced at Kara.

You should know something about my sweet Kara. Whereas I cry and wet myself at the thought of confrontation, she undergoes a "Hulk-like" transformation from a pretty, blonde all-American girl, to a tough as nails, strong willed woman, who doesn't back down. I have been in numerous situations with her as she heroically stood her ground against many a discourteous bully. (You can usually find me a few feet back....... in the fetal position.......rocking back and forth......... singing "If you're happy and you know it".) And so I was nervous, because a woman rudely chatting away on her cell phone in the middle of a movie is just the thing to get Kara revved up and ready to defend our fellow patrons of the theatre.

At first the women spoke softly, to where it almost sounded like a constant hum under the actors' dialogue.

Kara shifted in her seat.

Then, our friend's volume increased ever so slightly so that we could make out actual words.

Kara cleared her throat.

Finally, our chatty chum forgot her "inside voice".

"Shhhhhhhhh!!"

I didn't have to see it to know who had been the "shusher". After all, everyone has their limits and this lady was messing with Kara's seventh viewing of vampire love. I slumped down in my seat, hoping the "cell lady" would take Kara's "Shhh" as the gentle reminder it was and let us all get back to enjoying the movie.

No such luck.

Instead, this middle aged woman began speaking louder-almost a shout-as if she was challenging the "Shhh" and raising it one "See if I care". This only infuriated Kara, who then leaned over the empty seat in front of us, glared at the side of "cell lady's" head and whispered "So rude!" I buried my face into my hands and waited for the impending response.

Which leads me to the nightmare I described at the beginning of this story.

The woman promptly hung up her phone, whipped around in her seat, and looked right at........ME! (If you have seen Twilight, than you will understand the "look" that I received from her, the same look the Vampires give to........well, everyone. It was a cross between smelling something really foul and wanting to kill me with her bare hands.) I kept my eyes on the screen while she kept her hardened gaze fixed right. on. me. (gulp!)

I played out a million scenarios in my head, all of which ended with this women, who was old enough to be my mother, making me bleed and cry. She was wearing a fringed leather jacket, for Pete's sake, so you know she meant business! I located each of the exits and calculated which would be the quickest escape. I racked my brain for any self defense moves I might have picked up along the way, but could only recall an ancient 90210 episode where Brenda and Donna learned to punch the air and scream "No!".

I was so busy having a panic attack that I didn't notice that the woman and her companion had begun to leave.

Oh happy day! Maybe it was all a misunderstanding! Maybe we had met before and she was trying to remember my name. (Although, I would have remembered that jacket. ) Maybe she thought the movie was scary and had to turn around until the scene had ended. Either way, she was leaving and I still had all of my body parts in their original positions.

I let out all of the air I had been holding in and turned to my fearless friend, who found this whole situation quite humorous.

"What just happened?!" I giggled. "You just couldn't resist, could you Kara?" This set off a fit of laughter as we watched "cell lady" disappear behind the walkway.

Until she heard us laugh.

Everything happened in slow motion, as this woman ran full speed back up the ramp shouting and waving her fists, "Are they laughing at me?! They can't laugh at me! I'll kill them!" or something to that effect. I'm not exactly sure what happened after this because I was too busy searching for a popcorn bag to breathe into. Thankfully, her companion, who was obviously accustomed to her outbursts, pulled her away by that darling jacket and pushed her out of the door.

We enjoyed the rest of the movie in relative peace. Well, after Kara gave me CPR, that is.

When Kara got home that night, she discovered that her hubcaps had been stolen. We think our phone obsessed friend was exacting her revenge.

Legend has it that a fringed, leather jacket was found beside the car.......

That's a Wrap

The end of the holiday season is always bitter sweet for me. It seems to fly by at lightning speed, in a flash of twinkle lights, animatronic snow people, and worn out debit cards. (I believe I actually heard my card "sigh" the last time I used it.) Every year, I give myself a pep talk right before Thanksgiving. "This year you will slow down and enjoy the true spirit of the holiday season!"

And every year, I seem to fail miserably.

It's only after I put away all the Christmas spoils, throw out what was left of the Christmas goodies, (OK. I ate everything. There was nothing left to throw out. I may have even licked a plate or two.) and de-holiday the house, that I finally take time to reflect upon the holiday season. Here are some major plot points of the last few weeks......

*Black and Blue Friday
Armed with nothing but the clothes on our back and the dream of retail prices being slashed in half, my friend Rachael and I braved the crowds at Anthem for an all night shopping extravaganza! We shopped from 11:00pm to 7:30am on Black Friday. I'm not gonna lie. It got a little ugly out there, and I may be suffering from PTSD (Post Traumatic Shopping Disorder). I still wake up in a cold sweat, screaming for the Disney Princess Vanity that I had to leave behind. But it was a rush the likes of which I haven't experienced since the great "Tickle Me Elmo" craze of '99.

*Zoo lights
It was an especially twinkly Christmas for us this year. We just could not get enough "light-seeing". We headed out to Zoo lights w/ Adam's sister, Amy, our Brother-in-law Rick, our nieces Sophie and Emma and Grandpa Bill. It was cold and crisp and a perfect start to the holiday season. The yummy hot chocolate and kettle corn didn't hurt either. It is one of our favorite traditions with Grandpa and the Wolff cousins! Where else can you see a giant, talking Giraffe with an affinity for knock-knock jokes?

Ava, Mimi, Emma, Sophie

*Glendale Glitters
A few nights later we went to Glendale Glitters w/ my Mom, Dad, sister Anne, brother Ed, sister-in-law Merry, and my nieces Katie and Karina. We shopped in antique stores, bounced in the bounciest of castles, and gorged ourselves on funnel cake. This must be what heaven is like...

The Gordon Clan

Karina, Ava, Katie, Mia

*Mia turned 2!
My little Mimi had her 2nd birthday. How is that possible?? I can’t type anymore about it or I will short out the keyboard with my tears.

*Christmas in the Time of Cholera
I think we were visited by every cold and flu out there this season. Every family member was hit with at least one strain- not one of us was spared. Our Christmas mugs were emptied of Eggnog and refilled with NyQuil, and our candy canes were replaced by cough drops. It was awesome.



*A Long Distance Call
On Christmas Eve I was able to talk with my sweet baby brother or "Marky Poo" as my sister and I fondly refer to him, who is serving a mission in Costa Rica. (He's just going to love that I'm sharing that nickname with everyone!) It was so wonderful to hear his voice. He humored his big sister and spoke "Costa Rican" for me. I was amazed at how comfortable he was with the language, as he rattled off phrase after phrase in perfect Spanish. We miss him so much, but more than that, we are so proud of the amazing man that he has become.

My sis and I after our chat w/ Mark.

*I'm in the "Dawg Pound". Randy said so.
My sweet niece, Emma received the American Idol Karaoke game for Christmas. It became a favorite pastime during our holiday gatherings with Adam's family. Amy and I took turns battling it out to become "Idols" while the little girls danced and sang along with us.

Yesterday, while Ava and I were playing in her playhouse, she handed me the phone with great urgency, which I took expecting to "talk" with a Grandma, a cousin or any number of imaginary friends. Instead, she placed one hand over the receiver and whispered excitedly,

"Mom! It's Jenny!'

"Jenny? Who's Jenny?" I asked.

"I remembered her number from that song. You know, "867-5309"!

We didn't think Ava would learn her 80's one-hit-wonder icons for a few more years. She'll be top of her class for sure. Thank you, American Idol.

Adam and our little Rick Springfield enthusiast.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

\in-ˈsäm-nē-ə\

Catching some zzz's anywhere I can.....

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap."

Really?

'Kerchiefs aren't worn quite as much by us mothers.
Only Aunt Jemima wears those, while warm pancakes she smothers.
I could only hope for sweet dreams filled w/ plums.
Instead I wait....but the Sandman never comes.

I toss and I turn- trying to shut off my head,
and throw dirty looks at my husband, who sleeps, like the dead.
The list of Christmas "to dos" continues to race,
through my sad, frazzled mind, where common sense has no place.

I start thinking of dozens of projects half finished,
of the days before Christmas, which have become quite diminished.
Of the wrapping and baking, and errands to run.
Minutes turn into hours and the clock has struck one.

I sneak out of bed, hoping TV will be soothing.
Instead I get sucked into a commercial- it's quite moving.
Now, I am thinking of how selfish I've become.
When for 5 cents a day I could give "Anita" a home.

Just as quickly, I'm drawn into the "Easy Peel Glove."
What?! No more peeling potatoes?? This I will love!
And those green bags that make it so your food doesn't mold.
Wait! Suzanne Somers has skincare that won't let me grow old!

"Put down the phone Christy! This is not helping you sleep.
You need to relax, so to bed you can creep."
It's not as easy to calm my crazed nerves as you'd think.
I tell you, this holiday stress could drive me to drink.

Just teasing! He he! (Letting out nervous laughter)
It's only a decent night's sleep that I'm after.
Yes, a full night of sleep is all that I need.
(Please be assured- "JUST SAY NO" is my creed.)

Eventually, sometime around three, I passed out.
But not without one or two more lists to worry about.
Someday I might get that "Long winters nap."
But for now, it's a tease and I think it's just crap.

So for the millions of moms who can't get to sleep,
say an extra prayer tonight, and pray their souls to keep.
Or, just slip them a Tylenol PM.
I'd consider it a personal favor to a friend.

May you 'sleep in heavenly peace' this holiday season!

HO HO HOstile

She's thrilled to be here.

One of our favorite Christmas traditions is the annual trip to see that jolly, jelly bellied man in red. It just doesn't feel like Christmas without this holiday ritual. That being said, the Santa Claus of dreams and Christmas carols is never the result of such a trek. In fact, we usually get quite the opposite. Each time we've visited Santa, his appearance did not disappoint. From his snowy white beard, to his beautiful red suit-he looks like the real deal. But, that's where the similarities end. Picture a little less "Miracle on 34th Street", a little more, "A Christmas Story".

Last year we made our way up the village walk way, excited to place our perfect little Christmas angel, all preened and prettied, on dear ol' Kris Kringle's lap, when we were stopped very suddenly by his protest:

"Not there!" he said in a gruff, ex prison guard-like voice.

"Oh! Um....sorry?! Where would you like her?" I asked.

That was when I noticed the giant icepack resting on his knee.

"That's my bad knee! Put her on the other one."

I quickly obeyed and calculated how far back I would have to step away to stay out of the picture, and yet still be close enough to catch my little girl when the steal plate in this old man's knees decided to give way. Am I wrong in thinking there are only 2 prerequisites to playing Santa?

1.Do you have a beard?

2.Can children sit on your lap? (And I think the first one is flexible. But, the lap thing, that's pretty much a necessity.)

I'd like to give this man the benefit of the doubt. I'd like to think that he's playing Santa because he loves to bring joy to little children. Not because this was court mandated community service for an old Hell's Angels crime that finally caught up to him. I want to believe that he applied for this job to share in the magic of Christmas. But, should Santa really be icing his knees between children? Or wincing in pain and cursing under his breath when you set them on his good knee?

Needless to say, my brother-in-law called ahead this year to see if Santa would be played by the same "darling" man as last year. He was told that he wasn't, but that this Santa was "just as good".

Oh. That's a relief.

Once again, we found ourselves in line to see Mr. Claus, with both our little ones in tow, as well as our 2 nieces. I glanced into his cottage, hoping to get a glimpse of him. No ice pack! Could we have found our saintly Santa?

Ava and Mia with cousins Emma and Sophie

When it was finally our turn, Ava skipped over with her list in hand, anxious to tell him all that she had rehearsed. She braced herself to be lifted up by her Christmas hero, and ..........he.did.nothing. He didn't move. Ava put one hand on his chair and the other on his knee and hoisted herself up. He, just sat there. I was beginning to think they had just plucked one of the window dummies from the front of some store and dressed it in a red suit.

And, maybe it was all the "stranger danger" discussions we've had or the fact that he smelled of lunch meat and Hall's eucalyptus drops- but when I attempted to place Mia on his other knee, she wasn't having any of it. I considered sitting on Santa's lap while holding Mia, but after the "Titanium Knee Debacle of '07", I thought better of it. Instead I awkwardly half stood, half crouched next to them, resulting in a Hunchback of Notre Dame impersonation.

Just point me to the bell tower....

When it was time for them to smile for the picture, Santa responded by slightly opening his mouth. We think that was a smile. He then raised his hands as if to say,"Please get your child off of my aching knees". And that was that.

*

I'm just happy he didn't push her off of his lap.

And, so another Santa visit comes to an end. If we're really lucky, next year's Santa will be even better! Maybe he'll pinch the girls and tell them the real Santa is dead......

Christmas Casualties

On Monday, December 8th at approximately 7:30 pm screams were heard coming from a local residence. The authorities were notified, but they arrived too late. The victim was processed, and evidence was gathered.

Joann "Jo Jo" T. Clown 12/25/06-12/8/08

The morning of December 9th, at approximately 8:30 am, a second body was discovered.

F. B. Reindeer 12/25/93-12/9/08

And finally, Tuesday evening, the third victim of this vicious crime spree was found, beheaded in front of his own house.

Gingy B. Mann 12/6/08-12/9/08

This time the assailant was careless and we believe we have solid evidence against the alleged perpetrator. If you have any information as to her whereabouts, please contact the authorities immediately.

She is believed to be armed with blue eyes and dangerous dimples.

*Our condolences to Adam and Ava who lost their beloved ornaments.

**The investigation concerning the theory that Christy hired the alleged hit- baby to do away with the ornaments, so that her tree would only have "fancy" ornaments, has been dropped.