Whiplash

I really enjoy blogging!  I mean, I am super addicted and I love it!  I love feeling connected to friends and family members who I otherwise would not know the goings-on of their day-to-day lives!  I love having a place to write about my feelings and opinions, if for no one else but myself!  I recently discovered, however, that my opinions tend to be offensive to others.  When I share my opinion about something, I usually try to make it funny but I have learned that my sense of humor is completely lost on some people, as it differs from their own.  I said I'm not a big fan of trunk-or-treats, and you'd think I punched Mickey Mouse in the face.  We don't want to reveal the name of our baby until she is born, and people acted like we spit on the prophet himself.  I shared my thoughts on the Twilight movie, and I might as well have pushed a handicap child in front of a moving train.  Then I revealed I didn't like being harrassed by men in red suits (give me black any day of the week.  Brown, sure) but people seemed to think I was standing on my soapbox, burning bibles.  Well, hold on to your seats cause I don't like bacon, I think football is boring, and Robert Pattinson is possibly one of the ugliest human beings I've ever laid eyes on.  Having gotten that out of my system, I think it is time I take a hiatus from the blogging world.  I need to focus on my book anyway and it will give people time to recover from the verbal whiplash I seem to have caused with my tongue.    

On the Third Day of Christmas...

My true love gave to me...two wooden ornaments and a 'JOY' sign with a snowman on it for me to paint!

My true love received the movie Fletch.

The kids each got another cookie.

The Santa Contradiction

* WARNING *
The following contains much sarcasm and should only be read by those with a sense of humor.

There is an increasing number of people who need to see psychiatrists in our country and many of them end up blaming their parents for the problems in their lives. Now around this time of year I can't help but wonder if some of these accusations are somewhat accurate and not just the selfish ramblings of an adult who never learned to take responsibility for their own agency. One major value we teach our children from a very young age is honesty. We beat it into them that they always need to tell the truth, because the punishment for lying is far worse than the punishment for the thing which they are lying about. And yet from the time they are teeny babies we, as parents, lie to our children. You lost a tooth? That's wonderful! Now put it under your pillow before you go to bed and a special fairy will sneak into your room while you are asleep and slip a dollar under your pillow in exchange for the dead tooth. Wonder where all that candy comes from on Easter? Well there's this giant bunny who comes to our house at night and leaves a basket full for you. Then there is Christmas. One night a year when an old, fat man dressed in red, flies around the world with his reindeer, slips down the chimney, and leaves a bunch of presents for you under a tree. Now I absolutely love Christmas! I love the excitement, the magic, the colors...but does anyone else see the irony in lying to our children for 5, 7, 10 years about the existence of Santa Claus when we encourage them to be truthful all year? I'm all for teaching our children to have and use their imaginations (hello, creative writing major). But what is the difference between our telling our children that all the presents under the tree were left there by Santa Claus and a little boy saying a giant bird flew in through the window when mom asks about her broken lamp? Both instances promote the use of creativity and the imagination, do they not? How can we expect our children to know the difference between right and wrong when we ourselves sit on the grey line, balancing in the middle, several times a year?

This debate has been going through my head lately with the impending birth of Gertrude. (FYI that's the name my mom and I have been using to refer to she-who-has-not-yet-been-named.) I don't want my child to be the one going to preschool or kindergarten and telling all the kids that Santa isn't real. I have every intention of keeping this lie alive. Why? Because its fun! There is something magical about going to bed Christmas Eve and seeing the big empty-bottom tree and waking up Christmas morning to see it chock full of bright packages all ready and waiting to be opened. I was one of those children who believed in Santa for quite some time. Like most kids, I didn't want to let the magic go. I even snuck behind the tree a few times when I was getting older and still wanted to believe, just to try and catch him in action. But I was always caught and sent to bed. However, the dream of Santa only lived in my mind. I had a perfect image of him at the North Pole with Mrs. Claus and all the toys and elves getting ready for that special night each year. Never once, as far back as I can remember, did I ever believe those Santa imposters at the mall were the real guy. I can remember at a very young age thinking how silly it was for children to think that the real Santa had time to come to the mall or show up to work or family parties. Maybe it was because I had my own image in my mind and none of the want-to-be's ever measured up. It goes along the same lines of turning your favorite fictional books into movies. They are never nearly as good. Why? Because the images you cooked up in your own mind are so much better!

Now I'm not sure where my irrational hatred for fake Santa's stems from. It might be that never once in my life have I believed they are real and resented them for trying to pretend that they were. Or maybe its because I've witnessed so many parents force their screaming babies and toddlers onto his lap in an effort to get some cute pictures. Whatever the case I hate, hate HATE fake Santa Claus's. The closest thing I can compare it to are those otherwise perfectly normal adults who have a fear of clowns. I'm not afraid of fake Santa, I merely despise him. When my children are old enough to understand who Santa is and they ask me if they can go visit him at the mall to sit on his lap and have their picture taken, fine. I will suck it up and take them. But I will NEVER take my children to sit on his lap unless they want to. (Sorry grandparents if you were hoping for pictures of my baby sitting on the lap of a stranger) Again, it stems back to the contradiction of parenting. Never, never talk to strangers! Here, sit on this strange man's lap and accept candy from him...I dunno, the whole thing freaks me out. I prefer to keep Santa a fictional character in my mind's eye. Making him "real" ruins the whole thing for me.

The reason behind this ranting is my family had their annual Christmas party last night. I have always loved my family's Christmas party! We eat yummy food, visit, and play an enormous game of white elephant. But this year a dark cloud hung over the party. His name: fake Santa Claus. There he was, my nemesis. Forcing us to sing and get up and dance and then...sit on his lap. I have always LOVED the fact that my family doesn't do the whole "Santa thing" at our parties. My friends would tell me horror stories of their family parties and still being forced to sit on his lap when they were in high school and I thought how lucky I was that my family never did that. The thought of having some stranger show up at a family event and take control never really appealed to me. Then I found out for the first year ever, my family had hired a Santa and for a brief moment considered skipping the party altogether. But I had been looking forward to the party so I decided to not be a Scrooge and just enjoy being with family. We ate dinner, visited, played our white elephant game; things were going great! Santa showed up and it was fun to see how excited (and somewhat terrified) the little kids all got. I sat back in the kitchen, away from the man I despise, and enjoyed watching the kids have a ball. He forced us to sing...not my favorite, but I joined in. Then he wanted everyone to get up and dance. Nothin' doin. I was having bad cramps at the party (nothing to worry about, just normal pregnancy stuff) but I knew from experience the best way to deal with the pain was to remain seated. Then the whole sit on his lap, tell him what you want, get a candy cane thing started. I was just fine in my spot in the kitchen, watching from afar. But then, when I thought I was safe, he turned around and told me it was my turn. I said no, but that wasn't good enough. He took it upon himself to come over and try and get me to participate. I don't know about you, but when I don't feel good I just like to be left alone. Add that to my irrational hatred for the imposter sitting next to me and I was one step away from punching the old man in the face. It took every ounce of self control I possess to not let my pregnancy hormones take reign and scream a string of profanities (because there were children present). I honestly do not know what the guy's deal was. I was sitting away from where he was, I clearly had "buzz off" stamped to my forhead and he was still as pushy as can be trying to get me to talk to him. Matt knows of my loathing for fake Santa and he agreed the guy was being way too pushy. I normally do not reveal this strange quirk I have to people, I normally just let them think I am being "shy" or "bah-humbug" at such Christmas parties when he and I are both present. But I lost it last night and feel my family needs to understand why. (Even if they don't understand it). I finally screamed at the guy that I wasn't feeling good and burst into tears. This was my worst mistake. I got the creep off my back, yes. But for the rest of the party everyone thought I was really sick and they were all worried about me. I had cramps, yes. I was in pain, yes. But the biggest part of my pain left when fake Santa drove away.

If my family deems it necessary to bring fake Santa back again next year, I can only hope that he keeps his distance. Otherwise the kids are going to get more of a show than they bargained for when I whip out my Taser.

On the First Day of Christmas...

One of my absolute favorite Christmas traditions in my family is doing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Starting December 14th and every morning up until Christmas, there was always a small gift on the table for each of us. The gifts ranged anywhere from tic tacs or gum on a Sunday morning to small toys, Christmas socks, or candy. Matt and I have kept this tradition alive every year since we got married, and I love it! We have a price limit per day (or we might get a little carried away) but its so fun to buy each other small things and open them each day. The dogs always get a little something too. Yesterday was the first day for Twelve Days this year!

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me...a pair of snowman scissors! They are so cute! He told me they are for wrapping Christmas gifts. =)

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me...a book called "If Dogs Could Talk". Its full of pictures of dogs with captions of what they look like they are saying. Its really funny!

My true love received a CD on the first day of a mix of daddy/daughter songs.

And on the second day he got a reindeer ornament. (we give each other ornaments every year too.)

Our kids got a different Christmas cookie for each of the days so far. And although they look pretty good and smell like honey, yes, they are for dogs.

I Love...

I Love watching my belly expand! My whole life (with the exception of one dark summer) I have always had a flat tummy. I'm not just talking skinny; but would look hot in a bikini, put super models to shame, type flat tummy. And now I find myself squealing with delight every morning when I look in the mirror and see the snails-pace expansion going on around my middle.

I Love feeling her move! Every time she kicks, wiggles, and practices somersaults inside my belly I get a big smile on my face. On Thanksgiving we went and saw the new James Bond movie and she was moving for the full two hours. Probably because that is a Very loud movie, but I enjoyed it even with the constant interruptions. She is very strong! I'm surprised at how well I can feel her this early. Matt is excited because I keep saying she has strong soccer legs.

I Love having boobs! I've always been rather lacking in this area, but its nice to feel more "blessed" even if its only for a little while.

I Love having an excuse! I can eat as much as I want, and no one says anything. I can take a nap in the afternoon, and no one says anything. I can cry at silly things, and no one says anything. I can be completely honest and blunt, and no one says anything. They just laugh and say how much they will miss the pregnant me.

I Love how every woman in the world has my back! When I started feeling sick at church, a lady in my ward handed me some crackers and told me to eat. When Matt and I were walking into work on a snowy day a lady I work with looked at Matt and said "Don't you dare let her fall!" I've had more offers for used cribs and other supplies than I can even keep track of.

I Love looking at cute girl outfits and little pink dresses at the store! I can actually look at baby things now and know I will be getting them soon.

I Love showers! I have always enjoyed going to baby showers and this weekend my roommates are throwing me my first one! (Its a joint shower with another roommate who is also pregnant and due in February) It will be very different being on the receiving end this time. I'm excited!

Trimming the Tree

Matt and I spent the last two nights decorating for Christmas. I just love putting up Christmas decorations while listening to Christmas music and sipping hot cocoa! This time of year is so fun! We are still only using a small 3 foot tree that my aunt gave us for our first Christmas (Thanks Bonnie!) We figure we'll spring for a bigger tree when the kiddies start coming. Even though most likely no one else is going to see our decorations, we still had a ball putting them up! These are just a few pictures Matt took of our front room.

100 Things

I'm totally copying all those who have done this already, but I too was curious and wanted to see how many I had done.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightening storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child (Technically both my "children" were adopted)
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the statue of liberty (Went right after 9/11 and they wouldn't let people go to the top)
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you're not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a marathon (Walked, not ran)
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse (lunar yes, sun no)
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagra Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community (Even had an Amish guy hit on me)
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo's David
41. Sung Karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the great wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold girl scout cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets, or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi concentration camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job (Only because the company was moving)
76. Seen the changing of the guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book (Working on it! Have been published in a magazine though)
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone's life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby (I'm halfway there)
95. Seen the alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a lawsuit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Totally copied a post from someone else's blog to your own

I have done 65 out of 100. Not too bad for only being 24, but it looks to me like I need to travel more!