-Real tree: bought and trimmed…CHECK!
-Wreath: hanging on the door, festively: CHECK!
-Christmas lights hung, even more festively: CHECK!
-Christmas cards: created, ordered, addressed, and ready to mail…CHECK!
-Christmas list organized, gifts bookmarked on Amazon, prices checked and double checked: CHECK!

Alright, I’m looking good here folks. All we’ve left to do is buy the gifts, wrap the gifts, get stocking stuffers, buy Dylan a stocking (shiiiiiiit), and uhhhhhhhh, I think that’s it. I’m most definitely wrong, but if I can’t remember it, it doesn’t count, right?

Next weekend I’m gonna try to cram as much holiday fun in as is humanly possible. Candy Cane Lane light tour, Santa pictures, caroling (watching, not doing), a few Christmas movies. There will be hot chocolate and cookies consumed in vast quantities. It’s going to an epic holiday weekend, and the perfect precursor to Christmas.

So help me GOD.

We couldn’t do it. We talked about it, agreed (in theory) that it was a good idea, did a little comparison shopping. And set out yesterday to get ourselves a nice, shiny plastic Christmas tree.

And then we totally balked.

Maybe it was the feel. Or the fact that no matter how expensive the tree was (and some of them are EXPENSIVE), it still looked cheap. Or maybe, just maybe, once my nose smelled the glorious smell of a live tree, my mind was made up. We went for a plastic tree, and left with this:

6 feet of gorgeous, fresh, sappy Nordman Fir. I am in LOVE. This particular species of tree is über popular in Europe, but not very well known here. It’s got amazing needle retention, is one of the more resilient trees (so it’ll last through the holiday), and, for some odd but wonderful reason, looks flocked ( the underside of the needles is light green, the top is very dark, giving it a nice contrast).

We had a tree last year (Douglas fir, DEAD TO ME), but obviously Dylan doesn’t remember, since she was all of 4 months old. So this year, we were BEYOND excited for her reaction to the tree and the lights and the decorations. Excited, and a little scared, because if she didn’t like it for some inane reason, the next 3 weeks were gonna be shit. But, lucky for us, she totally has my love for all things Christmas.

This is Dylan helping Tom remove the netting. Right after I took this, she grabbed a handful and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her, hoping to get some one on one time with the forbidden net.

Getting to know the ornaments for the first time. Didn’t get that all those pretty balls were not for hurling at the dog.

I have a slight obsession with The Nightmare Before Christmas. It’s still a little dark for the kid, but soon, the indoctrination will begin. By the way, if you’re not down the Skellington and his crew, we can’t be friends.

She got as close as she possibly could right as Tom plugged the lights in, and screamed “LIGHTS!” when they came on.

This was us trying to keep her busy and out of the tree. It worked like a boss for 3 minutes.

As the ruler and supreme being of this house, Dylan got to place the first ornament. It was her very first ornament, which we got last year for her first Christmas. I totally moved it higher, to a more respectable spot on the tree. We’re going to Knott’s Merry Farm on Saturday, so we’ll let her pick out another ornament, just for her.

Baby’s First Christmas, 2010. Oy, this makes my heart hurt. A whole year, gone. *sigh*

So here she is, our finished tree. I love it, I’ve cried 4 times since putting it up, and it hasn’t even been 24 hours. NOW it feels like Christmas. All it needs now is some presents underneath (which I will be putting there on Christmas Eve, when the kid is asleep, because COME ON, she’s no dummy, and I’d be wrapping those damn presents every other day between now and Christmas).

So, between keeping the cats out of the tree, and the kid away from the ornaments, the next 3 weeks are gonna be pretty busy around here. I’m thinking about putting a velvet rope up around my precious tree, to keep the riffraff out. The squirt bottle works well on the cats, but I’ve heard using it on your toddler is frowned upon.

Well, this is it. The last day of November, the end of National Blog Posting Month. I’m so, so glad it’s over.

I’m glad I did it. I’m PROUD of myself for doing it. There was no one to push me, no one demanding I get my posts in each and everyday. I pushed myself. I demanded it of MYSELF. I’d never done NaBloPoMo before (and may not do it again, at least while I have a little running around), I wasn’t sure what to expect, how quickly the novelty would wear off, how much of a chore it would feel like some days. But I was determined to finish. I won’t win anything, I don’t get a ribbon or trophy or certificate with my name on it. I got some new readers, and I found some amazing new writers to follow and fawn over. And that’s enough for me.

Today, as I was thinking about what to write in my last NaBloPoMo post, I went back and read some of the posts I’ve written over the last 30 days. Some were good, a few were not (these tended to fall on Saturdays, or went up very late at night, almost as an afterthought). I’m really proud of them, the good and the bad, because they are mine. They’re my words, my thoughts, in some cases, my heart. No one can take that from me. Everyday for 30 days, I sat here, in mostly the same spot on my comfy couch, and I put my words down. I was grateful when someone read them, and even if no one read them. I was grateful simply for the ability and the opportunity to do so.

I won’t be continuing this pace of posting daily here, but I will be posting more frequently. Writing everyday has only reignited my love for it, and I look forward to sharing more of our journey, of our story, of my life. It’s a pretty good gig.

I get to write about her everyday, if I want. Pretty good gig, indeed.

Thanksgiving was, like, 4 days ago. FOUR DAYS. And I’m already having the first (of many, I’m sure) holiday freak out. Christmas is here, apparently. Even though it’s not even December. Which no longer matter, it seems.

Last year was technically Dylan’s first Christmas, but we don’t really count it, because she was only 4 1/2 months old, so she had literally ZERO clue about the holiday happenings. Decorations? Meh, not a big deal when you can barely focus your eyes. Christmas music? Sounds virtually no different than the ABC song to infant ears. Presents? Unfortunately for babies, you need a modicum of coordination to maniacally rip off wrapping paper, so I had more fun with that than Dylan last year. (Incidentally, I will really miss opening her presents this year, as I thoroughly enjoy it and don’t get to do it nearly enough) Christmas was only slightly different than any other day, in that I gave her the boob in a different house. So there was no pressure last year, no need to impress the kid.

But this year. Well, this year, she’s a player in this game. A small, easily distracted player, but a loud, shriek-y, excitable one at that.

So, here we are, still an entire month before the big day, and I already feel like I’m behind. Way, way behind. We’ve gotten no shopping done (although we know exactly what we’re getting everyone, we just need to actually get it), we have no decorations up, I’ve got zero fun, Christmas-y activities planned (again, I know what I want to do, like Candy Cane Lane, Santa pictures, etc., but I have yet to figure out when this will all commence). A full month to go, and I already feel like a Yuletide failure. Please tell me I’m not alone here? Tell me you’re still trying to get past Thanksgiving too. Please. Just say it to make me feel better, I’m begging you.

On the subject of decorations, I think we’ve come to a rather shocking decision this year. I think (drumroll…) we’ll be joining the masses and buying a fake ::hork:: tree. Now, I hate fake trees. Despise them, in fact. We alwaysalwaysalways had live trees growing up, and nothing can replace the smell, the feel, of a real pine tree in your living room. My grandma used to have this tiny stupid plastic thing she called a tree, and it still makes me angry, just picturing it. BUT. Having a big, heavy tree that drops a thousand fucking needles an hour all over your house, plus oozes sap from a seemingly bottomless source, does not seem like the best idea when you’ve got a very curious, very grabby toddler hurdling around the room full steam all the goddamn time. Add to that a kitten that is *probably* Satan reincarnated, and the fact that I am chomping at the bit to put up a tree but know that it will be dead and dry and a dangerous fire hazard in 2 weeks, we’re thinking plastic may be the way to go. It hurts my soul to do it, but alas, it’s the best decision. Add this to the ever-growing list of shit that kids ruin (I kid, I kid. Kind of.). Hoping to have our senior citizen tree up this weekend. I’m just gonna have to drown it in ornaments and invest in some pine scented candles to cope with the loss.

(On a completely mind-blowing side note, while at a Christmas tree farm this past weekend, husband and I saw trees that were priced in the $500-$700 range. AMERICAN DOLLARS. I almost peed my pants. Please, if you’ve ever spent that much money on a Christmas tree, never, EVER tell me about it. Because I will probably punch you, and then mock you incessantly for the rest of your time on Earth. Which probably won’t be long, as anyone who spends that kind of money on a dead tree that you will have for a month and then THROW AWAY is quite possibly too stupid to live.)

It’s Saturday night, and all over the country, nay, THE WORLD, the young and beautiful are out having (what they think it) the time of their lives. Dancing, drinking, flirting, getting dressed up, wearing shoes that cost way too much to be that uncomfortable, doing things that will most likely come back to bite them in the ass sooner or later. I was one of those people once.

And now?

Well, I’m sitting on my couch, in the same clothes I wore to bed last night (don’t judge me, I did take them off briefly, I’m just recycling), watching a Friends rerun, writing this post. We stayed home almost all day, except for a quick trip to Trader Joe’s and Blockbuster, and that was it. We watched movies, ate leftovers, tickled the kid, chased the kid, napped, read books to the kid. Now the kid is asleep, I’ve got laundry going, and as soon as I’m done here, I will take a quick shower, and then play video games with husband until far past the time I should go to bed. And that is our Saturday night.

And you know what? It was the best Saturday night.

First things first, my brother:

I can’t even. He was here for the holiday, and I swear, I smelled his beard while I was cooking. It’s just, I mean, doesn’t it look like a vagina has taken up residence on his face? Like one of those 70′s retro vaginas. His girlfriend didn’t seem to enjoy it so much. And apparently, he’s not shaving it off at the end of the month. He says he gets a lot of compliments on it. I didn’t really wanna pursue the subject of WHO exactly is complimenting him, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say gay men.

In other news:

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and we had a lovely time. I cooked for a small group, and thank god it was a small group, because holy shit, that is a lot of work. I’m glad I did it, and it was seriously delicious, but wow. I’m still tired. But my turkey? Oh my. I dry brined it, then roasted it, and it was seriously, seriously delicious. There was very little left over, so I’m debating getting another bird and doing it again, just for us. It was THAT good. Dylan totally stuffed her face, and particularly enjoyed the turkey and my homemade cranberry sauce, which kind of surprised me. All in all, great day. How was your holiday?

We didn’t do Black Friday shopping, although we debated back and forth up until last night whether or not we would. It’s just too hard with a toddler, and I’m so glad we didn’t go, because some of the stories coming out are just awful. Fights, people getting pepper sprayed, lines around the block. It’s ridiculous. And trust me, I worked in retail for a long time, you get the best prices closer to Christmas, hands down. Black Friday just isn’t worth the hassle and bother.

Now that Thanksgiving has come and gone, I’m chomping at the bit to get a tree and put up the Christmas decorations. Dylan LOVES the lights and trees and ornaments, she’s freaked out in every single store we’ve been in that has them up. But we do live trees, and I hate how dry they get. I want a nice green tree on Christmas morning, so I think we’ll wait another week to get it. I’m also a little concerned with how Dylan will act with the tree. I’m sure she’ll go after the ornaments (which is fine, we use shatter-proof balls and stuff), but I’m scared she’ll try to actually get IN the tree. And I think it’s a given that the presents will remain hidden until Christmas Eve. I really don’t want to have to re-wrap everything 16 times. Still, I am SO. EXCITED.

Can you even believe that it’s Christmas? Brace yourselves folks, it’s only a month away. Where the hell has this year gone? Wasn’t it July, like. YESTERDAY?

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope you’re all with the ones you love, enjoying this day and appreciating what it’s really about: giving thanks for our blessings and bounties and loved ones. The good food doesn’t hurt, either.

In the tradition of the holiday, here is what I’m thankful for, this year and always:

-Sweet little Dylan, my reason and light.
-Tom, for being an amazing father and husband and person, and for working so hard for our family.
-My family, whom I love, not in spite of their insanity, but because of it.
-My health, and that of those I love. It can go so fast, without warning, so I wake everyday thankful that we’ve been given another day.
-Good friends, who are few and hard to come by, but make life bearable on the hardest days.
-I’m thankful my husband has work, and we have a roof over our heads and food on our table. So many people do not.
-As silly as it sounds, I’m thankful for the internets, and the wonderful and amazing people it’s put in my path.
-I’m thankful for good people. People who stand up for what’s right, against what’s wrong, and especially for those who cannot stand up for themselves.

I’m also thankful for a lot of other little stuff, like those cream cheese buns at the Asian market, thick socks, DVR, Salt and Pepper Kettle Chips, hot tea on a cold night, the smell of the first rain, dogs and cats that fight like cats and dogs but love each other more, books on the iPad, and a cool pillow.

What are YOU thankful for? Love to all, enjoy your holiday!

Jayme

So, today is the day before Thanksgiving, and I’m not enjoying it. At all. Aside from the 101 things I have to do before tomorrow (including a trip to Target OH MY GOD JUST KILL ME NOW), my mom is coming later, which is…nice, but also adds to my stress level. Considerably. Despite the fact that she is my mother, and has no qualms about throwing advice and criticism my way offhandedly during our monthly phone calls, she acts like a proper guest in my home, and it drives me crazy. I mean, I don’t expect her to waltz in and take over the reins (and would almost definitely punch her if she tried), but Jesus chriminy, you know where the goddamn bathroom is, and you don’t need my permission to use it! Also, cold drinks are always in the same place, and if you’re thirsty, DRINK ONE. In between chopping and stirring and brining and prepping tonight, I’ll have to stick my head out every few minutes to make sure she’s comfortable. I’m already annoyed.

And today Dylan has decided to do everything she’s not allowed to do/supposed to do, and then when I tell her no for the seven millionth time, has thrown tantrums, ranging from the mildly pissed to full on raging hellfire. It’s been a fun morning. Needless to say, I am literally counting down the minutes until we can BOTH take a much needed nap. I think it’ll do us a world of good, and we can start over this afternoon, refreshed and ready to go. At least, that’s my plan. And best laid plans always work out, right? RIGHT?

Oh god I hope so. Let’s reboot this bitch and do it right.

I don’t want to alarm anyone, but do you all realize that Thanksgiving is in 4 days? How the fuck did THAT happen? Never mind that I’ve actually been planning dinner for like, 2 weeks. That two weeks went by really. Really. Fast.

Remember how I was all, “Oh, this is gonna be a breeze, no problem, hosting Thanksgiving is the easiest thing ever!”? Um, I may have boasted prematurely. The cooking I’m still good with. Got my turkey, it’s been defrosting for a couple of days now, I’ll start the dry brine on Tuesday. Hitting the market tomorrow to get the rest of what I need, and all the prep is being done Wednesday night, so all I have to to on Thursday is actually cook. So food-wise, I’m good.

But how come no one reminded me of ALL OF THE OTHER SHIT I HAVE TO DO? Like, clean. I’m having people over to my house, it has to be clean (and I’m talking stranger company clean, if it was just family I *may* have vacuumed, but not much else, you know what I mean?). So I have to clean the house, do all the laundry and stuff like I normally do, put so much crap away that I’ve been piling all over the house in an act of defiance against putting all the crap away. I have to clean and organize the kitchen, clean out the fridge so there’s room to dry brine my turkey. I also have to squeeze in a hair appointment, and oh, let’s not forget, I’ve got a toddler that I will probably have to continue caring for whilst in the dredges of holiday preparation. Oy. Seriously. So much oy. I need a nap. And it’s only Sunday.

I’m really excited about Thanksgiving, but I’m starting to understand why my parents were so short with us around this time. When you’re a grown up, there’s just so much more shit. And then you’ve only got, what, 3 weeks? Before the mother of all holidays is here? Naps. I will be taking all of the naps. Starting today.

Alright beard lovers, here’s the latest from my brother and his face bush:

I’m sorry, it’s just so gross. I can almost smell it from here. I think, subconsciously, this is why I married an Asian guy. Cause that up there? Not possible on my husband’s face. THANK GOD. Oh well, for a good cause and all, yada yada yada.

In other, non-truck driver face news:

-Dylan had her 15 month well visit today, and she is just positively perfect in every way. Her head circumference is in the 90th percentile, but it’s because she’s a fricking genius (Asian, yo) and her brain is HUGE. Also, Tom’s head is on the, ahem, large side. She got some booster shots today, and took them like a boss, but was literally BOUNCING OFF THE WALLS this evening. I mean, she is usually pretty energetic, but will start talking herself down around 7:30, in anticipation of bedtime. Tonight, she went balls out all the way till the end. And then crashed like a car with no brakes. If she sleeps well, I may get her all riled up every night.

-I’ve been doing Couch 2 5k for two weeks now, and I’ve got to say, I’m hooked. I’m already seeing a difference in my body, and I FEEL different. I’m more energetic, especially on days that I actually run. So far, so good. I didn’t run this morning, so I’ll have to get up early tomorrow morning to make up the day, which I’m not looking forward to (who the hell wants to wake up at 6am on a Saturday?), but I’m determined to stick to 3 days a week. Hopefully I’ll remember this next week when my ass wants to stay in bed on Friday.

-Yesterday I wrote about next week being the first Thanksgiving we’re hosting in our home. It will also be my last Thanksgiving as a meat-eater. Starting December 1st, I will officially be a vegetarian. I’ve been working on a post in my head about WHY I’m suddenly giving up delicious, delicious meat, and I’m going to post it after the holiday, but in a nutshell, here’s the deal: I’m not doing it for moral reasons, but for my health. I’m a pretty healthy person, but I’ve got a slightly scary family history of cancer, and I want to do whatever I possibly can to dodge that particular bullet. So I’m making some changes, and I’m starting with meat. I’m heartbroken to be breaking up with my beloved bacon, but a Mom’s gotta do what a Mom’s gotta do, you know? I’ll tell you all about it next week. I need some time to say my goodbyes. And eat a shitload of meat.