All That and a Bag of Chips

I found a new coat that is as cozy as my favorite blue bathrobe. I'm visiting my sister and we hit her Target yesterday to return $25 worth of stuff. I promptly spent $100 on myself, with the highlight being this Long Brown Puffer Coat.

Guess how much it was?

$7.50!

I may look wider than a barn door, but I am oh-so-cozy. I may even start wearing it inside the house. There were tons (like 50) left, marked down from $40. Colors were White, Black, Brown, and Blue. Thought I'd pass this along in case you need a little extra coziness today.

Great Expectations

So I’m just wondering, did you marry “your type?” If you are married, did you have a preconceived notion of what kind of guy you would end up with or whom you gravitated toward during your dating years? If so, did you marry that kind of guy? How have your expectations been different from reality?

I always figured I would marry a frat guy type. Gregarious, with a slight beer gut, loads of stories, and the ability to throw me over his shoulder at will in a “get over yourself, Anna” kind of way. The kind of guy who would lean you up against the cinder block wall in the fraternity party room and slur with a little beer on his breath, “Man, you’re soooo hot!” Not sure where I got this from, but it’s just an image that stuck in my head.

Tom does not fit this mold. He is shy and reserved; he is proper and straight-laced. I outweigh him easily within a few short weeks of becoming pregnant, so there hasn't been a lot of throwing over the shoulder around here.

He is definitely not a frat boy. In fact, until we got involved in our church, he had just a few male friends, and he is content to spend a weekend at home rather than going out golfing our hanging with the boys. He does not curse, tell raunchy stories, and I don’t believe he’s ever uttered the word “hot”in the “smokin’ hot” sense in his life.

I remember when an ex-boyfriend visited me in graduate school and spent some time with Tom and me. Later, he proclaimed, “I just don’t think Tom is an ‘Anna Maiden Name’ kind of guy.” He even sent me the comic you see at the top of this blog post as some sort of illustration.

Puh-leeze! I mean, what was that about? I was in love with Tom! He was handsome, sweet, thoughtful, and extremely smart. Whatever the ex was trying to do totally backfired. Did this guy not realize that I have never NOT rooted for the underdog in my life, and he had just made Tom into an Underdog?

Didn’t he realize no one puts Baby, I mean Anna, in a corner?! A comic that criticized Tom? Ha. That guy might as well have gone out and bought the ring and booked the reception hall himself, because his insult sent me farther into Tom’s cute arms.

I think the ex did manage to peg that Tom and I are different. Sometimes those differences have been easy to navigate, sometimes more difficult. But even though Tom and I are opposites on the Myers-Briggs scale, and he may initially not have seemed like an “Anna Maiden Name” kind of guy, he’s the one I married, and after 18 years together, there are a lot of reasons why it works.

For one, there’s the whole introvert/extrovert thing. His quiet nature does not bother me. I realize now that I want to be the one with the loud, funny stories at parties, while he laughs along and is hopefully not too embarrassed .

I’m also a bit of a prude, so if anyone is going to be slightly risqué or raunchy in this family (by which I mean blogging about shooting one’s wad (of cash) or occasionally uttering the S-word) I’d prefer it to be me.

Also, Tom doesn’t schmooze, ever, so you are always getting the real deal. He might not be gregarious enough to be Pres of the IntraFraternity Council, but he is a loyal friend with great integrity. He is satisfied with our quiet life, and doesn’t care who knows whom, how much they make, or where they bought what. He also doesn’t get into gossip, which can be a bit of a bummer for me if I get in the mood, but it’s good not to have someone to feed off of.

Of course there are many reasons I love Tom, and certainly not just because he serves as a good foil for me. One of our old friends used to liken us to Dharma and Greg, which sort of implies I am a crystal-carrying ditz, but it does peg Tom as the mild-mannered type. I guess our friend just meant we complement each other well, and I believe that.

It also doesn’t hurt that he is H-O-T-T (lick finger, put it on your rear jeans pocket and insert sizzling sound here).

I could probably write a whole separate post for you on what I would suppose Tom’s “real type” is. I’ll take a quick stab at it here: a thin, doe-eyed, northerner with long, straight hair tucked under a baseball cap. Likes cooking, fine wine, the great outdoors, L.L. Bean and watching Planet Earth. Lives to cheer on her favorite sports teams and go to rock concerts. Prefers sex to sleep.

Good luck with that, Tom. Bloom where you’re planted, baby.

Stomping Around the Christmas Tree

So on Christmas Eve morning, before our annual Mexican lunch at Chevy’s, dropping cookies off for local firefighters, watching “It’s a Wonderful Life,” and going to church, Mom had a pity party.

I hadn’t slept well because I was disappointed and disgruntled. Tom and I had gone to pick up our new car (my first car ever with power windows!) just in time for Christmas. I pictured something like this, without the BMW part, of course.





After signing all the papers and paying, we took the keys and walked out to drive home. It was the wrong car. Crap. Weeks of deciding, and figuring and waiting--- for what? Of course on the way over I had told Tom very dramatically, “I am so sick of car shopping. If I have to go back to the dealer after tonight, I will poke my eyes out with a screwdriver.” Ooops.

So I tossed and turned, wondering when I’d ever get my new car. Wondering how we were going to cram the 4 of us PLUS THE DOG into a Volkswagen Jetta for our 5 hour trip to my sister’s. Picturing my feet scrunched up on the dash like they were for our Thanksgiving trip. Imagining blod clots and much pissed-off -ness by me.

I grumped around downstairs for a while then crawled back in bed to stew.

Then I noticed I had my period. Three days of fantasizing about a surprise after-40 pregnancy went up in smoke. The whole scenario of having teenagers and a toddler at the same time, with an unplanned (and therefore surely meant to be) child who would be easy, docile, and bring the whole family together just like a Hallmark Hall of Fame movie disappeared too.

When I finally got a grip and put on my big girl underwear (NOT panties, mind you) to start the day, Molly and I began baking. Seconds later, in her exuberance to point out something incredibly important (colorful sprinkles?), she clocked my in the left eye. Stinging tears, a possibly detached retina, and we kept on baking. It wasn’t exactly a screwdriver through the eye, but it wasn’t fun, either.

I thought I was hiding my grumpiness pretty well (unless the zits gave me away) until we got to Chevy’s. Molly announced to Tom and Jake, and anyone else in the parking lot, “Watch out. Mom’s grouchy because she has her period.”

A Wish for You Today

My wish for you this special week is:

(That's Peace, "Peace & Peace," or "& Peace Peace"...depending how you look at it. You get the idea)

Time with those dear to you:

...and something special under the tree:



And for those of you who are experiencing loss this season, for whom the decorations, lights, and even the music bring up memories both bitter and sweet, my wish turns into a prayer. An extra prayer of comfort for you.

See Family Hits the Big Time

Just wanted to let you know that the See family Christmas card is being featured as Snuggie Picture of the Week on one of my favorite blogs, Pulsipher Predilections. Wooohoooo! Thanks, Kristina!

See our other brush with the blogosphere big time right here.

This Thing Runs on a 60 Watt Bulb

Christmas shopping around here is…interesting. Jake is easy. He just chooses one expensive Lego set and we are done. Well, “done” if you don’t count the endless discussions of the Lego set’s merits, the intricacies of the design, etc. This goes on for weeks during which time you just may want to poke your own eardrums out with a sharp object. I am appalled that the cumulative price of all his Legos could bring relief to several small countries, but it certainly is simple to push the “Order” button at Lego.com.

Molly, who is more likely to play with an old Bandaid than her American Girl dolls, is not so easy. She is a creative spirit; she is unique. In the above picture she is playing with a gourd.

Remember last year when she asked for:

A mouse
Tickets to a Jonas Brothers’ Concert
Never to go to Home Depot Again?

She did not get her first two choices, but we did give her a fancy schmancy certificate freeing her from any/all future Home Depot trips. She was pleased. This year we realized we failed to put an expiration date on the Home Depot decree, so now we have to figure out a new gift.

“Well, I don’t know what to ask for because the one thing I really want I know you won’t get me.” Big sad eyes. “What is it?” I ask. “A King Charles Spaniel puppy.”

How right she is.

My problem is compounded by the fact that my sister just adopted a teeny tiny dog, whom we will meet at Christmas. She has a chocolate lab, too, and she is blowing my excuse that you can’t have a large dog and a small dog together. Thanks, L.

As I said, Molly is not easy to shop for. When she was 4 we got her the My Pretty Pony that talked and said things like, “Feed me, Mommy,” “I need my Pacifier,” and “I love you.” Ten minutes into it on Christmas morning, Molly declared, “This pony is too much work.” Back into the box it went. The nice thing is she doesn’t ask for video games, laptops, cell phones, or gadgets. The hard thing is that she pretty much asks for nothing.

I am at a loss. So I bought her this.





To me this is basically an Easy Bake Oven. You know, like the one I never got as a kid, but that I see lined up in multiples on the thrift store shelves every time I go shopping. I can imagine a mom’s delight when she tosses this honking piece of plastic into the donation bin, reclaiming prime real estate inside her home.

Yeah, this crayon maker has the potential to be used about 3 times if I’m lucky. Lots of plastic packaging, lots of plastic parts. Mucho environmental damage, and of that I am not proud.

But please do not judge. It’s December 21, and at least it’s not a puppy.

Coasting Along in December

I'm not much of a crafter at all because I just don't have much patience for the little details. When I saw this idea at Beneath My Heart, Traci assured her readers it would be easy, so I decided to try it.

Check out the link for a step by step tutorial, but basically, you make coasters using 4 inch square tiles from Home Depot (17 cents each!), a little Mod Podge, and your black and white printer.

I printed out initials in fonts that I liked, cut them to size, and glued them to the tiles using Mod Podge. A little Mod Podge on the top, let them dry, then sprayed the top with Acrylic Sealer. The final step was putting a thin piece of self-stick cork on the back so the tiles wouldn't scratch a table.

All of the supplies (except the tile) were at Michael's. This was the easiest, fastest, and least expensive craft I've ever done. Before I knew it I had coasters for my neighbors and friends from my small group.

Whew!