The Christmas that never was

Hello, blog land. I've missed you. Are you still here??

You might be ready to move on from Christmas. You might be tired of hearing about everyone's Christmas. But, finally, here is my Christmas post, typed with prune-y fingertips, dripping with anti-bacterial 409 spray.

Because I need Christmas closure.

I don't remember ever being so excited about Christmas before this December. There's something magical about anticipating the season with your child. We listened to Bing Crosby, Jimmy Mathis and Sarah Mclachlan throughout the day. We watched Rudolph, Charlie Brown and Buddy the Elf at night. We drank way too many cups of hot chocolate at all hours. We made ornaments and colored Christmas trees.

And when we woke on Christmas Eve, the Great Sickness hit. Madeline and I were out for the count while Joe spent the day taking care of us. The good news was it didn't last longer than a day.

But there was bad news. When we became better, Joe got sick. And when he became better, then I got sick again. Are you noticing a pattern?

We didn't leave the house until Saturday and that was just for a quick drive so I could be assured that life really does exist beyond the petri dish we call home.

While Joe and I celebrated Christmas morning with Madeline, Lysol bottles and vomit buckets, I feel like we missed Christmas. When your immediate families include four parents, 12 siblings and one stinking cute nephew, a Christmas morning of three feels... odd.

The constant nausea didn't help, either.

A quick word to ABC, CBS and NBC executives: On Dec. 25, 2009, can you please run Christmas movies and Christmas specials? You might think this is crazy, but some people don't have cable and can only watch your networks. And if these people get sick on Christmas day, they will turn on the TV, desperate for some Christmas cheer. Sadly, these poor souls will be crushed to discover you are airing regular programming including The Young and the Restless and Montel. Please amend. Thank you.

Anyways, the Great Sickness did force me to discover the unanticipated joys of Christmas day.

While I was looking forward to my mom's Christmas dinner, instead, I got to watch Madeline's new skip as she runs.

Instead of opening gifts with my in-laws, I got to quietly marvel at Madeline's happiness to finally touch the presents under the tree and carefully peel back the wrapping paper.

While I normally am so thankful for a large family to celebrate with, I was thanking Jesus for a tender and thoughtful husband who never complained while taking care of his sick and very whiny wife.

Instead of listening to a fire crackling, I heard Madeline call out for me when I quarantined myself in the bedroom and finally heard "Mama" instead of "Katie" which she's done for the last couple of weeks.

Finally, finally, we were back to normal and visited our families on Sunday. Madeline was thrilled to see people other than Joe and me. And if this picture isn't the epitome of a child's excitement after opening a wonderful gift, I'm not sure what is.


So if you drop by to find me still listening to Bing, Jimmy and Sarah and smell disinfectant in the air, you'll know why.

I know I need to move on but I just don't believe Christmas has come and gone already. So I'm off to fix another cup of hot chocolate and watch A Very Merry Pooh Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

The English language, 26 letters and 15 punctuation marks cannot express how much I love my family.

Thank you, Jesus, for Your gift to us: giving us life and for the grace to live it to the full!

Sorry, honey. The fake ones don't smell.

A list only Oprah could fulfill

I've already made my Christmas list for Joe which includes very reasonable and responsible items like jeans, shirts and sweaters.

So I thought I'd have a little fun and write a dream list. 'Cause you know, these are definitely very logical items to follow after jeans, shirts and sweaters.

A little trip to England.

A Honda Pilot. (I'm still hoping that one will be outside our house with a big red bow on Christmas morning. Right after I get a sweater, of course.)

Not just limited to the Barefoot Contessa, but this item is simply asking that every time I watch a cooking show, I get to try the food. Yes, that someone would bring me the meal in my living room. Is this really asking too much? I don't think so.

Five minutes with Jane to know if we would've been friends back in the 1800. Maybe even Oprah can't get me this one. On second thought, she is Oprah...

Season tickets for life. Preferably about 20 seats so we can take friends and family. (See, it's not all about me!)

What's on your dream list?

I can really make a fool out of myself if I hear it at a wedding reception

I frequently forget that I'm sharing the road with other drivers when I'm out and about.

And by this, I mean I forget others can watch me belt out my favorite songs while shaking my head, pounding the steering wheel, bouncing in my seat and occasionally closing my eyes to really feel the music.

That's how I roll.

While I was rushing back from the mall yesterday, hoping and praying my super-tired Madeline wouldn't fall asleep until we got home, a really classy country song came on the radio.

It was one of my favorite songs during college. Maybe ever. But there were definitely many, many times I sang this song into a hairbrush in the Linden House.

"Save the Horse, Ride the Cowboy" by Big and Rich.

Much like my recent viewing of While You were Sleeping, I had no problem recalling every single word of these lyrics. So I rocked out each line, trying my best to entertain Madeline before she could fall asleep.

I may or may not have twirl an imaginary lasso in my hand above my head multiple times during each chorus.

As I was singing my heart out, I realized two things:

1. The man in the Lexus behind me was very amused.
2. This really isn't the best song to serenade to a 1-year-old.

It reminded me of the Friends episode when Ross sings "Baby Got Back" to Emma to make her laugh.

And there you have it. I've learned my best parenting skills from prime-time comedies.

Despite the fantastic entertainment I provided, she still managed to fall asleep. I guess she's seen that song and dance routine too many times.

Conan is on his second round. This is very, very bad.

It's 1:30 a.m. and I can't sleep.

I tried closing my eyes and relaxing. I tried watching the first half of Titantic, hoping to be bored into blissful dreams. And now I'm blogging, hoping to clear my mind so I can crawl back into bed.

Tomorrow/today could be a very long day.

So here's what all I'm thinking about right now.

The Biggest Loser finale
It came. It went. It was fabulous. Vicky did not win (hallelujah) and Heba couldn't manipulate her way into the final three. Even though I've been slightly vocal about my dislike of Vicky, the highlight of the evening was hearing 84 percent of voting Americans ignored Heba's wishes and voted for Ed.

Confession booth time: after last week's show, I was so determined to not let Heba get her way that I got on the computer and voted 50 times for Ed. I was slightly worried that I had become a vindictive person who is too emotionally involved in preventing the bullies from ruining a pure and innocent show. But hearing the rest of America agreed with me was extraordinarily satistfying.

I thought Shellay, Amy P. Amy C. and Phil looked a-mazing and I was so proud of Michelle for redeeming the season. Nice people do finish strong.

*******
Gifts
I still have six Christmas gifts left to get. Today's the day. And I'll be sleep-deprived. Yay. If my 16-year-old brother ends up opening a box of random items from around my house, you can explain to him why.

*******
The Joy in Raising Kids
Reading Courtney's post tonight made me realize again how grateful I am to be raising a child and to receive love from her, even if she can't express it in words yet. And then her other post made me want these Christmas dishes. Have I mentioned I'm a sucker for dishes?

With or without Christmas dishes, I am so blessed that this little girl calls me Mama:

*******
Traditions
One of my favorite parts of having a family is choosing and implementing traditions. There are some traditions my mom did that I want to make sure I carry on and there are others I just really like and want to do. I'm actually nerdy enough to have a process for our traditions.

Every time I hear something I like, I write it down in my nerdy mom binder. Then later, I weed out the flaky ones, run my favorites by Joe and then we declare them "our family traditions."

Some examples. Next year at Thanksgiving, we're going to buy a real tablecloth, write and date on it what we are each thankful for and pull it out year after year. Next Christmas, I really, really, really want to do a Jesse Tree. And this St. Patrick's Day, Madeline will help me make my grandmother's Irish Soda bread recipe and we'll meet up with Joe for the parade downtown.

I had a hard time narrowing down Christmas traditions. So we might try 11 of them next year and see which ones stick. Overachiever? Nope. Sentimental mom? Yup.

*******
My Smackers
My lips are really chapped right now but I'm having too much fun writing to get up and do something about it. Thought you all would love to know that.

*******
Adorable-ness
Madeline has been interested in picking out her clothes. Rachel Zoe, watch out.

Gotta make sure everything's perfect for the photo shoot. Because, ya know, one open snap could throw the entire look off-kilter.

Yes, she is wearing a shirt, sweater, puffy vest and hat. And no, we weren't leaving the house anytime soon. She just really liked the ensemble.

Only I didn't say fudge...

Madeline and I spent Saturday baking Christmas delights at my mother-in-law's house. My sister-in-law made adorable and delicious sugar cookies. Janna made amazing chocolate-dipped Rice Krispy treats. And I wanted to make fudge.

Because I'm insane, I decided to try Martha Stewart's chocolate fudge recipe.

Yes, that was my first mistake.

It was an... um... interesting process. Here's how it all went down:

Martha says:
To make amazing fudge, you will need a clean work surface, such as a marble slab.

Katie read it as:
Some of you may not have a marble slab because you decided to pay the heating bill rather than buy one. In your case, cross your frugal fingers and hope a 9" x 13" casserole dish will do the trick.

Martha says:
Stir together the first five ingredients until edges are bubbling.

Katie read it as:
Do not question Martha when she says to dump in nine cups of sugar. It looks like enough to cause your veins to begin coursing with pure sugar. Stir in the first five ingredients and try to not screw this up. It would only be like flushing $10 down the toilet if it doesn't turn out. No pressure.

Martha says:
Continue to cook without stirring until mixture reaches 238 degrees on your candy thermometer.

Katie read it as:
Continue to stir continuously until your arm is about to fall off. Begin referring to Martha as a slave-driver in your head. While taking the temperature, make sure to drop your candy thermometer in the mixture at least three times. Then realize you made a colossal error because you shouldn't have been stirring at all after 50 minutes of continuous stirring. Drop to your knees and pray fervently that you didn't just mess everything up.


Martha says:
Remove pan from heat. Let cool to 160 degrees. Pour mixture on cool marble slab. Spoon vanilla on top of mixture and let cool to almost room temperature for 15 minutes.

Katie read it as:
Remove pan from heat. Drop chocolate-covered candy thermometer in mixture again. Pour mixture in 9" x 13" casserole dish. Decide to rush home. Put your child to bed.
Relax while playing Boggle with husband. Lose all sense of time.

Martha says:
Begin pulling fudge in a figure-eight motion, moving from the bottom right, then up and over to the top left, before pulling back down to the right. Repeat, moving from the bottom left, then up and over to the top right, before pulling back down, pushing fudge onto itself.

Katie read it as:
Once you let your mixture cool way too much, begin carving the number 8 in the mixture. Congratulations! You've officially ruined the fudge.

Martha says:
Continue in this manner until you see a sudden change in appearance of fudge, from glossy to matte, 12 to 15 minutes.

Katie read it as:
Don't worry about appearances. You'll never get it right. Just laugh hysterically with your husband as every sign indicates this fudge is beyond repair.

Martha says:
Spread fudge on wax-lined baking sheet. Press lightly with buttered fingertips to smooth fudge.

Katie read it as:
Again, there is no hope. Just slop it in the pan and go to bed.


And that's how I made "fudge" on Saturday. Sadly, it didn't turn out. While it does taste good, it's incredibly gritty. Seriously, it's like eating a mouthful of chocolate-y sand.

Nothing says, "Merry Christmas!" like gritty fudge.

However, it is good for one thing.

Last night, realizing we had 64 square inches of fudge left, I melted some down, mixed in milk and created the most wonderful, so-rich-it'll-make-your-jaw-lock-up hot chocolate.

So really, let's just pretend I make a wonderful hot chocolate mix over the weekend. M'kay? Thanks.

P.S. Tons of friendship bonus points if you know what movie I quoted for my post title.

Who doesn't love a little looking?

Confession: Sometimes, while driving at night, I slow down so I can get a glimpse through the windows of random houses.

I hope that doesn't creep you out. I just love seeing how real people decorate real homes.

And thanks to the miracle of blogging, today is one of my favorite days. It's the annual Christmas Tour of Homes, hosted by BooMama.

It's the day where bloggers take pictures of their Christmas decorations, post them on their own blog and leave the link at BooMama's.

In other words, grab your hot chocolate/tea/coffee/chai, open up a two-hour block of time and enjoy peeking in other folks' homes.

I know I will!

Please don't lose all respect for me after I mention Britney Spears

I'm in a sentimental mood. This probably has more to do with my sentimental personality than the fact that I'm blogging while staring blissfully at our Christmas tree, watching Madeline giggle at Tigger and sipping hot chocolate. Well, those things probably have something to do with it as well.

And, if I'm being honest, it also has to do with flipping through the 200+ college-era pictures Bridget, a lovely Linden Lady, just posted on Facebook.

Some days, I feel just like Nicholas Cage in The Family Man, minus being a millionaire, career-driven man part. Especially not the man part.

Just sometimes it's like I went to sleep as a self-centered, fun-loving college student and woke up as a wife, mother, homeowner and coupon-clipper. Hopefully, I'm still fun-loving but I know I'm sadly still self-centered. (Marriage and motherhood is chipping away at it, just not fast enough.)

This is not a negative thing, for sure. Just sometimes surreal.

While looking at picture after crazy picture, it seems like those times were yesterday and yet a lifetime away at the same time.

Exhibit A: The Muncie edition of Crossroads (yes, I am Britney Spears). We did really love this movie. I am 100 percent not being sarcastic about this. I believe we even did karaoke with hair brushes to the songs.

Exhibit B: The night I was kidnapped, taken to three states in one night, fell asleep in the car, didn't wake up when my friends drew on my face with yellow highlighter, ate at a Waffle House at 4 a.m., wondered why I kept getting weird looks and realized I had yellow highlighter all over my face. Fantastic.

Exhibit C: Mom! Dad! Look! See, I really did study. And I promise, my roomies were totally not a distraction. Ever. (Note all the books stacked on the hamster cage. This picture is also proof that I lived with a rodent and a clever, escape-able rodent at that.)

Looking at all the pictures and remembering all those late nights filled with Ricker's runs studying, it's hard to remember how I went from this:


... to this.

I'm sure some of you are thinking, "Geez, lighten up. You only graduated three and a half years ago."

But that's another reason for all this wondering. How can life change so quickly and so much in such a short amount of time?

If all of this sounds like Negative Nancy, please know I'm really not pining to re-live my college years or that I wish I wasn't where I am now. There's no other version of my life I'd rather be living than now. Period.

Just wondering what I'll look like in another three and a half years. At the rate I'm going, I'm gonna guess hair in a braided bun and a long denim skirt.

At the risk of sounding like John McCain

My friends, if you don't CVS (and yes, that is a verb), you need to. It really adds up.

Learn how here.

I'm so impressed

I renewed my driver's license last week. It, um, had expired. By just a little bit. And by "just a little bit," I mean nine months.

Whoops.

I noticed it awhile ago and promptly forgot about it. Then I remembered it again while waiting in line to vote. The perfect time. I started panicking that I would wait 40 minutes and then not get to cast my ballot. (I did, by the way. It went unnoticed.)

But then I forgot again until I went to the bank last week. The bank teller politely informed me that my ID wasn't valid and she couldn't process my transaction. I pleaded and begged and promised to get a new one the next day.

I must have an honest face because she went ahead and gave me the money. Or, she looked at Madeline and was completely enamored with such a cute face that she didn't realize her hands were slipping me cash. (Kids come with their own set of perks, I'm telling ya.)

Anyways, I stayed true to my promise and dragged myself to the BMV the next day. Since my last visit was an afternoon of sheer torture, I packed:

• animal crackers for Madeline
• Cheese-Its for me
  
• sippy cup
  
• water bottle
  
• five books
• four silent toys
• Bunny
  
• my old cell phone
• two pacifiers

Clearly, I was expecting the worst. But guess how long my visit was? No, not three and a half hours like the previous visit.

One minute and 49 seconds.

Can I repeat that? ONE MINUTE AND 49 SECONDS!

I knew our governor said he cleaned up the bureau over the last few years but who really believes what they say in the political commercials?

But going from 3.5 hours to less than two minutes?!?!? Amazing. A-mazing. It took longer for me to unbuckle and buckle Madeline in the car than it took to get a new license.

Well done, Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles. This is one very happy tax-paying mama.

P.S. While I'm so thankful to be rid of the Officially Worst Ever ID picture (I heard they're sending it to the Smithsonian for a special exhibit), the new one isn't much better. Right before she snapped the camera, she said, "It's better if you don't smile."

So I wound up with a very confused look in my eyes and a drooping smile. Did she mean my face looks better if I don't smile? Or it's better to not smile just in case I'm ever on the run from the law and they have to use my driver's license picture as the wanted image for the newscasts? Seriously, what does that mean??

Belt it Carly: Anticipation!

We're decorating our house and the Christmas tree tonight and I'm beyond excited. I'm so excited that it was worth trekking down to scary underworld (a.k.a. our basement) this morning to bring a few things up.

We're waiting until Joe gets home before opening anything but Madeline wants to open the mysterious boxes so badly. I finally had to re-stack them in a corner and shoved the couches together.

But I'll admit, the suspense is killing me, too. However, I'm not doing myself any favors by listening to Christmas music literally all day long.

I looked away for two seconds to take a picture of Madeline hovering over the stack and by the time I looked up, she already opened a box and was giving me her standard "I know I just committed a crime but can I please, please continue?" look.

It's hard to say no to.

But that's how much I love decorating as a family and making it an event.

Sigh. Is it 5 p.m. yet?

And I want to make these so badly. I'll let you know how they go.

Can you find the Anne of Green Gables reference?

I am the queen of snap judgments. I shouldn't admit this but sometimes I just look at a person or hear one thing from them and decide right then and there whether I will like them or not.

I'm working on this. "This" being "giving people a chance." Heart-warming, isn't it?

Anyways, several months ago, I met a mom at the library story time and by just looking at her, I knew we would get along. We started talking and I realized she's one of those few people you feel you've known your entire life and you suddenly can't shut up because you want them to like you. And somehow the only logical way to accomplish that is to talk incessantly.

I walked away wishing I had the guts to ask for her phone number so we could hang out.

(And then I thanked Jesus I never had to ask a boy out because I'm pretty sure I would still be single. Not that asking for someone's phone number to be their friend is the same but I was afraid it might come across desperate which, I'm guessing, is probably how many teenage boys feel.)

(Which reminds me, I really should share the story of Joe asking me out. It involves a line from Dumb and Dumber and me not understanding if he was joking or not. Priceless and terribly romantic.)

Anyways, she and her son came back the next week and this time, she asked if Madeline and I wanted to hang out with them sometime. I tried to not knock over small children in my excitement.

Her name is Jenn and she has a son, Blake, who Madeline adores. "Adores" may not be a strong enough word. Maybe "wants-to-adopt-as-her-brother-so-she-can-see-him-every-second" is more fitting.

I knew I liked Jenn when she let Blake run around during story time while other children were quietly sitting on their mommies' laps. Because it meant Madeline had a friend doing the same thing as her.

But then I found out Jenn is addicted to McDonald's sweet tea and likes Scrubs. That pretty much sealed the deal for me. I declared us kindred spirits.

And if that wasn't enough, I discovered I'm not the only one who makes snap judgments because Jenn recently confessed why she approached me at the library that first time.

She said she looked around the room at the moms who were dolled up with trendy outfits, perfect make-up and great hair. Then she saw me. Apparently, I had my hair in a ponytail and was wearing my tattered gray college sweatshirt.

(I'm not exaggerating about the tattered part. The front pocket is literally hanging on by two safety pins. Also, I'll bet 10 bucks I arrived 12 minutes late and wasn't wearing make-up.)

Jenn thought I was someone she would get along with. Swell. I'm the scrubby friend everyone needs in their life. Basically, be my friend and I'll always make you look good.

Anyways, she literally is an answer to prayer. Over the summer, I prayed that God would send me someone who fit my criteria: lives close by, has a child close to Madeline's age, has a sense of humor and is staying home with her children. I'm sure He loved me dictating the terms and conditions.

It's not that I want only friends who are carbon copies of me but I really needed someone who truly understands what I'm experiencing because she's living it as well.

A couple of weeks later, I met Jenn. She lives four minutes away, Blake is only three weeks younger than Madeline, did I mention she loves Scrubs? and she would be willing to sacrifice anything to stay home.

In my opinion, she is proof that if you ask, He really does want to give us the desires of our hearts and He gives generously.

(Scrubs really was the icing on the cake. Oh, and she likes Harry Potter. Kindred spirits, folks. Kindred spirits.)

A Countdown Katie-Style

How I know Thanksgiving is over and Christmas season is here:

consumed 10 cups of sugar in the last week
listened to 9 rounds of Sarah Mclachlan's "Wintersong" album (thanks, Janna!)
realized we own 8 pairs of tiny shoes that don't match Madeline's Christmas dress
enjoyed 7 family meals during Thanksgiving weekend
snuggled with Madeline 6 times while watching "Winnie the Pooh and Christmas Too!"
read 5 Christmas books to Madeline just yesterday alone
said good-bye to 4 brothers and sisters who returned to Texas and Colorado
have 3 days left until we decorate our house
screamed "SANTA" in the Will-Farrell-"Elf"-voice 2 times just yesterday alone (see video below)
yikes - only 1 Christmas gift bought so far

And this is how I feel about Christmas season: SANTA!!!!

I'm so excited for Madeline to experience Christmas this year. She went nuts when she saw the Christmas tree at Wal-Mart yesterday. Since she has to share her joy over anything with anyone, she began yelling and pointing it out to everyone within 20 feet of us, including the greeters and cashiers who stare at it all day long.

All I could think was, "Oh baby, you ain't seen nothing yet."

Calling all Biggest Loser fans

I feel like I'm just now waking up from Thanksgiving. It lasted all weekend so I kinda can't believe it's really over but instead feel like I'm responsible for bringing a side dish to dinner tonight.

Yesterday was my detox day from sugar and butter sticks.

Today, I ran errands all morning, have phone calls and e-mails to return, lunch to cook, projects to work on and have also been trying to brainstorm the perfect comeback post since I haven't blogged since last week.

But then I found this video waiting for me on Facebook from Megan. And I laughed and cried so hard, I felt like my world stopped turning.

It's only two minutes long but you have to, have to, watch the last six seconds. Priceless.

Biggest Loser 6: Vicky Gives 'Em Hell @ Yahoo! Video