Someone Remind Me, Please

Ok, I'm multitasking, so if I trail off, I apologize. I'm working on dinner for the following week so I can go grocery shopping. What I really want to do is crawl back in bed and hide for the day.

My house is a disaster. I spent several hours, along with poor Jack who had to deal with me, putting up Christmas decorations. The tree looks great, we made a great kill this year. But, holy crap, could one more thing go wrong, please??? I haven't found the train set. It seems to have chug chugged out to some other, less insane family. Seventy five percent of my lights would not light. And of course, all three of my longest strands would not even give me a little glint of hope they would change their mind and just LIGHT FOR ME AND THE DAMN TREE!! Huh-hum, sorry, I get a little emotional.

So, at 9:00pm, Jack and I went to Target to buy lights.

We walk in and Oooooooo, the dollar section....just a quick peek at all the good crap you can buy for a buck. Hmmmmm, (picking up some doggie toys) I could get these for the weiners....No, wait, I'm here for Christmas lights. Ok, (looking around the store to where the possible Christmas Town has been set up) where the hell are they??? I see random check out girl and ask for directions. She looks at me with this perplexed and lost look on her face and points to the far back corner of the store. "I think", she says. Then I think to myself, yeah, I understand, it must be easy to miss where they set up an entire gigantic section of the store devoted completely to the celebration of the birth of Christ or the arrival of the fat guy baring gifts, whichever you prefer. Sheesh.

Jack and I wander off in search of lights. We find Christmas Land and also the entire row devoted to lighting schemes and there are dozens of empty boxes. Of course, they had lots of those colored lights that I will never put on my tree, but not one single plain strand of white lights on green wire. I tried Herb's antique large colored lights last year and ended up taking them all off and redocorating the entire tree at 10:00 at night. It had looked like someone threw up Christmas on my tree. Just seeing it gave me a headache. Wait, I'm seeing a pattern. It's the lights, they thwart me every year.

I found an extra large "Heavy Duty" indoor/outdoor 200 light strand with green super fat wire and mini white lights and grabbed it so we could make our escape.

Yea, we're home, I can finish decorating the tree. We dump our stuff, navigate through the boxes and boxes of empty Christmas ornaments and then, the ornaments, since they couldn't go on the tree with out the LIGHTS. But we have the LIGHTS and then, this sudden wave of disgust washes over me when I realize THIS STRAND IS POLARAIZED and won't fit into the other strand that is woven through the fricking STAR! When the hell did they decide to start polarizing Christmas lights??? Oooo, I bet that's the "Heavy Duty" part. Dammit!

"TOOOOOOOODD! I need a cheater plug for this light strand, it's POLARIZED and it won't fit!!!!!"

From downstairs I hear, "They don't make them!"

Dammit. What the hell am I going to do?!

Again, from downstairs, "Just plug it in the wall!"

Oh, yeah, I can do that. Then, this morming I realized that I can piggyback the old plug onto the new one so I don't lose the outlet entirely. The stupid thing is, this didn't occur to me last night because I was too upset over the broken ornaments, the broken lights, the trip to Target, the water pitcher that got caught on afore mentioned strands of broken lights and decided to to a 360 flip and dump contents all over the floor, and the fact that my house looked like a total tornado victim. Ross constantly needling me about my choice of holiday decorations and the fact I wouldn't use colored lights and THAT IS JUST NOT RIGHT in his book wasn't helping the situation much and I, basically, lost my mind.

Everything, I later realized, went downhill when the Christmas music stopped, so I think next year, that will be the first and foremost priority. Holiday music must be played the ENTIRE time one decorates the tree. Bad things start happening when the music stops. It must be the cosmic forces of the universe at work, but I swear, as soon as I turned it on after my total CHRISTMAS TREE MELTDOWN, I felt better.

Jack came out of his room, since I sent him there during the MELTDOWN, and we layed on the couch together and looked at the tree. It turned out very nicely, and was glimmering and twinkling softly to The Little Drummer Boy playing on the Christmas All The Time gay lite rock station on the radio.

Then, in true Swenson form, we fell asleep.

It's Snowing!

Our very first official, there's-some-stuff-staying-on the-ground-snow! We are heading down to the Hollidazzle and the Cinderella display on the 8th floor of downtown Marshall Fields. I love this season, I love Christmas and the snow and the lights and the merriment and the wrapping and all the crap that goes along with it. Tis the season for sledding, hot toddies, those annoying bell ringers at every entrance, and yes, I give each one a quarter because I'm a sucker.

I actually started wrapping presents last night and realized I HAVE NO RIBBON!!! How I, queen of all wrapping, can have no frickin ribbon in the house is beyond me, so I went to Joanns today and braved the post Thanksgiving herd and bought a bunch of paper and RIBBON! The store was crazy busy and they were out of all sorts of things I wanted, but, alas, if I was able to drag myself there early instead of doing the responsible thing of paying bills, I would have had better luck in my Christmas booty search. The sacrifices I make to save my credit from being ruined.

Santa, are you watching??!! I'm being a good girl and I am not being naughty, and I WANT A PONY THIS YEAR!!

Ok, not true, but it sounded good, didn't it?

The Gay Philosopher

We had a lovely weekend. It started by sleeping in until 8 o'clock on Friday morning. We then went over to one of the houses Todd is working on and sanded and put another coat of Verathane on the hardwood floors. It was so romantic. Though, I did catch a pretty good buzz of the fumes. We dropped the weiners off at Grandpa's house and off we went.

We got up to the hotel, got settled, had a nice dinner and then went for a sauna/swim/hot tub experience. I actually swam in the pool! Since I've barely entered one since I was a child, this was a big thing. I want a sauna and a pool now. Todd said I could have a sauna and a hot tub, but no pool. I figure if we took out Ross' room, moved the bath and laundry, we could build one in the basement. But, I was outvoted by the guy that would be doing the plumbing. Sigh.

It's a very weird thing that we woke up at 5 am both days we were there. We layed in bed, watched tv, Todd took a dip in the whirlpool tub that was in our room, I read a book, but we were awake and moving by 5. Then, THIS morning, I couldn't drag myself out of bed before 7. What's up with that??? I mean, ok, we stopped by the cabin and found all our stuff and a brand new bottle of vodka we forgot we had and WOW! We have cream and Kahlua at home and we could have White Russians!!! And maybe, I had a little too much. They do go down like chocolate milk. I did kinda feel like a team of Siberian hunters were doing the Barynya on my head when I woke up this morning. But, STILL!

Anyway, the weekend was nice, I got a couple more pages done in Jack's baby book, we were able to lounge and relax and we even enjoyed each others company for a few minutes here and there. I designed the mythical remodel I will do to the house when I suddenly come into $150,000 and Todd got to do his exploring and driving around in the car...truck...whatever. Cleaning out the cabin was a lot easier than I thought since certain things were missing that shouldn't have been so I cussed and cursed and it kept my blood boiling until I was able to leave. We now have a snowmobile trailer sitting in our yard and as soon as our old broken-down camper shows up, we'll be perfect white trash. Woohoo! I think we need to put the Cadillac up on blocks in the yard, too.

Sorry there's no other pictures, but Todd forgot to bring the camera. The story behind the philosopher is this: it's a lamp. Serious, I do not lie. It came from the cabin. Jack was DEATHLY afraid of it for about 2 years and wouldn't even enter the cabin unless I put it in the closet, so, I brought it home for him to keep in his room. He says he doesn't want it though. Go figure.

I'm off to help Jack build a lego house for his Thomas Edison project for school. I'll be sure to post a picture of it when it's done.
Try to keep a lid on your excitement until then.

Praise the Computer Illiterates!!

Some days, I love my job. They don't expect that much of me and they praise me when I work extra hard. I always do what they ask, no matter how mundane and menial the task at hand is. Some days, I hate it and want to run screaming from the building, like when I'm asked to alphabetize 2000 files, but such is life. The days I really love it is when someone asks me to do something in Excel or Word that, to them, is really complicated, but for me is a piece of cake. I try to look like I'm thinking really hard, "Hrmmm, that's a good question", I say. Then I get to WOW them with my limited computer knowledge. Which is, really limited.

Being Mom also has it's wondrous moments, but this week, I failed miserably in the "mom" department. Jack is the greatest, he really is, but I lost it on Tuesday morning. I won't go into great detail, but let's just say, that boy can putz and dilly dally with the best of them. So, I basically went postal on the kid. Then, when I saw his sad little face when I dropped him off at school, I felt like crap. Guilt chewed at my insides like my old ulcer for about 2 hours until I drove back to school. I walked up to his class (they were having indoor recess due to the rain) and my happy little boy came running over to me and gives me a big hug. I feel like such a heel.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"You came to apologize", he says with a big grin.

Busted. I'm so predictable.

So we kissed and made up and he agreed to get out of bed the first, not 50th time I ask. By ask, I mean yelling at glass breaking decibels. He also agreed to quit whining about practicing Karate and Piano. "You have no choice", I tell him. "When you are the parent, you can torture your kids to take Piano." He skipped back into class and I went back to work, guilt mostly gone and happy that my son didn't use me as the imaginary enemy during his Karate class that morning, because you know, I had to ask.

Tomorrow, Todd and I are going here. I wish I could say that I'm very excited, but it will just be a relief to have a couple days to ourselves. No dogs, no kids, no internet (woohoo!!! I am doing the happy dance, because that means Todd will have no eBay!!) no crap to deal with in general. It's going to be sooo nice, but excited? Maybe when we get there. Or at least on the road away from it all. My father actually seems kind of excited to watch the wieners. Should be interesting. He's planning on spoiling them all weekend with pork bones and said he would try to match them minute to minute for naps. The sacrifices he makes for his granddoggies. What a guy.

Well, it's late for me to still be here and I think I'm going to head home. I'll fill you in next week on all (ok, not ALL) of our weekend adventures and I'll be sure to take pictures. Ok, not THOSE kind of pictures. Stop it, your naughty.

OMG I'M ALLERGIC!!!

Ok, I used to have two cats, I have a grandbaby kitten whom I've played with, but dear LORD I am dying over here!!! I spent the afternoon at my friend Donna's house, who has two cats and a labradoodle, and I'm leaking from my nose, my eyes, and I've got a total case of the itchies. I left her house to go do some errands at Sams Club and was wandering around the store FOREVER trying to find the liquid hand soap. I went and got laundry detergent, nope, no hand soap here, must be by the pharmacy and shampoo and other bar soap. I push that huge-ass cart to the other end of the warehouse, wander around, try to sneak past that freaky guy that is always asking me if I want to put new windows in my house. I swear I go there every couple weeks and he asks me EVERY TIME, "What are we doing to the house this year?" I smile politely, because I'm a nice girl, but I really want to tell him to shove it up his kiester and LEAVE ME ALONE, but alas, I was raised almost correctly, and I don't say that. I go to the bar soap isle.

No, no liquid hand soap here. Really, it's not here.

It MUST be back by the laundry detergent and I just missed it. All the while I am itching, my nose is running, and it's starting to move into my legs under my jeans. I reach the laundry detergent, and no, there's really no hand soap here. It occurs to me I have never seen hand soap anywhere in all the times I've been in Sams. Didn't we buy the last gallon from Costco??? I hear an employee behind me pushing a pallet and as soon as I realize I NEED HELP, I can't stop itching nor can I find the FRICKIN hand soap, I turn to ask the employee, but he's gone. Vanished like a puff of smoke in a magic act. CRAP!!! I finally drag myself back to the pharmacy, knowing full well there's always an employee there. I go the SUPER long way to avoid creepy window man, and I ask the tech in the pharmacy, "Can you PLEASE tell me where they hide the hand soap??" She points to the last isle and says, "Right outside the bathrooms."

Oh.

The only isle I've never been in because I thought it was all Depends and Kotex in that isle. Then I see it, carefully stacked between the Slimfast and the pee pee pants. Thank GOD and I'm right next to the registers!!! Woohoo!!!

But, I digress. I'm dying. Whatever happened to me when I was pregnant obviously changed my chemistry enough because I can't spend much time around felines. Oh, they are so cute, and fluffy and cats LOVE me. But... I've got the ITCHIES BAD!!! My kingdom for antihistamines!!

Later.

I called Donna and told her my dilema, told her I was broken and OMG, I'm ITCHY NOW EVERYWHERE!!! She laughed and said Marcel, one of her cats, causes everyone to react. He's super feline or something. Oh. I guess I was being just a teensy bit dramatic.

I will take this opportunity to apologize to all of those I have known over the years who have had allergies and I thought you were being wussy or "geez, can I get you a tissue, you snot gurgling thing??" Ok, that was mostly Jesse, my cousin, who had the worst allergies in the summer and Grandma (God, rest her soul, {Amy crosses herself}) was too cheap to keep buying boxes of kleenex so Jesse carried a roll of toilet paper around with him all summer. As I remember, it wasn't even the good stuff, so his nose was all red and raw from constantly wiping it with cheap bath tissue. I think I called him Rudolph or maybe Bozo, or both. I'm sorry I was mean and insensitive. I'm sorry I made fun of his pain. I'm sorry I got pissy when he blew his nose in the middle of the night and it sounded like a fog horn from the coast of New England. I'm sorry I gave him grief when he blew his nose into his hands in the shower (I only knew because the fog horn traveled throughout the entire house into the kitchen and I knew there were no tissues in said bathroom and you can't use toilet paper to blow your nose when you're in the shower and please God, tell me it's not just going everywhere because I shower in there, too) when we were in high school and I realized he wasn't using a tissue and thought that was the grossest thing I had ever heard of and wouldn't touch him for a month. That still makes me gag. Yuck.

But, again, I digress.

So now, I feel fine. The benadryl kicked in and I feel almost normal again. But now I'm tired and I think I need to go get some chai.

Mmmmmmmm, chai. It almost makes it all go away. Almost.

Overheard Conversation at My House

Todd: Thank you for making the bed, emptying the dishwasher, and making me coffee this morning. That was an unexpected surprise.

Amy: (Looks up from stuffing ravioli for dinner) You're welcome. (She then bats her eyes and leans in for a quick smooch) Who's the best wife?

Todd: I don't know, I may not have met her yet.

Amy: (Eyes moving into little slits) Excuse me?

Todd: It may be wife number 3, but then 4 could out do her, so we'll just have to wait and see.

Amy: You are such an ass.

Todd: (Laughs and swats Amy on the behind) Gotta keep you on your toes.


When Todd is old and grey(er) and laying on his deathbed, I am SO stealing his morphine.

It's wrong...very, very wrong.

But it makes me laugh. I fear that some dog "karma" will strike me down for doing that to my pets, but, alas, it will be worth it. Jack was holding them veeeeeeerrrrrrry still for the picture. I couldn't believe out of all the Halloween pictures we took, I actually had none with his head on. We took this on Sunday, November 6th.

We had a quiet weekend, I had lunch with Todd's mother, Joanne, Jessica, and a couple other women of the family. We went to Green Mill and though the food was ok, I remembered why I hate to eat out. I can cook better. Is that snobby? Probably. But, it's true. I can say Oceanaire was really good, even though we all know I don't eat fish or anything of the like. I did TRY the herring (it was icky) and the crab cakes, which were pretty good...for crab cakes.

Tonight, we are having butternut squash ravioli with roasted carrots and onions, thin strips of bacon, and a sauce to knock your socks off. Oh, and I baked bread yesterday. This is why we don't eat out. Dessert you ask? Why, Halloween candy stolen from the child's goodie bag, of course! Jack is a great sharer of his booty, so we don't really steal it, but that sounds better.

I spent yesterday evening working with Jack on math. He is working on memorizing his multiplication tables and 3 column adding and subtracting. I WILL convince someone other than myself that this child should be placed in AP classes. He says "WOW! 634 minus 397 is 237? That's so FUN!" I look at him like he's insane, then remember *I* am the mother and need to pretend I learned all this stuff when I was his age. When in reality, I was in 4th grade and switched schools and almost flunked math because I was the only kid who didn't know multiplication. I spent the whole summer memorizing all the tables with my grandmother up north at the lake. It was one of the worst memories of my childhood. I really and truly thought I should have been riding the special short bus to school.

Today, Jack had karate, we practiced piano, and we have an appointment with his therapist after school. I really look forward to these since I think that it's really important for Jack to feel like he has an adult to talk to that is an impartial third party. I think it's helping. I know it's helped me a lot to be able to let go of some of the crap his father does. Babysteps, and somedays....wine. Lots and lots of wine.

(and no, Mother, I really don't drink much wine, because it's bad for me and my ulcer and I take my vitamins every day, all 28 of them. I swear.)

Open Letter to Man at TCF Instore Branch at Southdale Cub

Dear Man with Issues,
I feel your pain, really I do. There is nothing more frustrating than waking up one morning after a drunken night in from of television info-mercials only to discover you used your bank debit card to buy "Girls Gone Wild" at 2:30am. Ok, I really don't know, but, truly, it must be awful. How did you remember you did it? Did it come to you over your Frosted Flakes that morning? Did you check your balance and discover you were $24.95 short? I honestly have to give great kudos to the bank teller who kept a straight face during your whole "Cancel it! I can't have PORN coming to my house" at such a shrieking decibel that I think even the guys over in produce heard you.
I know I was having such a very difficult time not laughing out loud at you and your non sensible rantings and raving that I almost forgot my PIN number.
Here's my advice:
Just chalk it up to your own stupidity and eat the $24.95 as a lesson learned to either:
A. Don't get drunk in front of the television in the middle of the night
B. Cancel your debit card and just go with the whole check-only thing
or
C. Just sit back and enjoy your new porno

Good Luck.

PS. To the teller that helped me, please do something about your hair. I realize you must be making something of a fashion statement since you had on a red gingham checked shirt, a black suit and a neon blue tie, but, seriously, your hair looks like someone cut gum out of it and never had it fixed. Between you and the man screaming about how interesting the "Girls Gone Wild" video looked at 2 am, I'm amazed I made it out of the bank without popping blood vessels in my face from holding in the peals of laughter.

Shameless Product Plug

I've been meaning to share this for some time, but I have lacked the initiative. The picture is kinda small, but the point of it all is that I have tried the over-the-counter glycolic peel kit and I have to say, I've noticed a HUGE difference. Basically, the two women I know who have the best skin, in my humble opinion, go once a month for glycolic peels. Now, being the super tight-wad that I am, I have a very difficult time justifying spending 75$ a month to do this. There's things I just don't spend money on and having someone else pamper me is one of them. I realize that this is supposed to be ingrained into our estrogen and our female species that this is just what we, as women, are supposed to do, but I just can't bring myself to get on that band wagon. I confess, Todd cuts my hair in the bathtub. I get 1 professional pedicure a year (ok, 2 this year...the wedding was number 2) because in the spring, my heels are just icky. But, I color my own hair, do my own updo's, and after my one eyebrow waxing experience (yes, wedding, again), pluck my own eyebrows. But, the point of it all is this: I'm getting old. I don't want to get old. I want to look like I'm 30 for as long as possible.

It started when Jessica took me to the mall to buy new foundation, and I couldn't get the crap to look right on my forehead. It was cakey and gross no matter how well I blended and how much or little I used. It was the wrinkles. I. Have. Wrinkles. There, I said it.

So the day I was at Cub Foods and saw this new product and it was on SALE and then someone left this little 3 dollars off coupon for me to use, I figured it was fate telling me I was getting nasty looking and I should do something about it. So, I bought it.

I have graduated to the microderm abrasion kit, also. It's granules are so tiny they get into your pores and really clean out the gook. Technical term, feel free to use it. But, I thought I would share this knowledge with those of you who have been on the fence or have been running into the same problem with your forehead, or cheeks, or whatever other part of your body this may apply to. Getting old bites and I'm going to fight it for as long as possible. Todd is getting distinguished and I'm just getting dried out and prunish. No, not prudish, prune-ish.

I just wish I could turn back the hands of time and take back all those hours I spent baking in the sun coated with baby oil. Oops.