I'll Never Be Like That

I was on Facebook...my cyber home away from home...a while back, doing my part for humanity by being "fully aware" of all new status updates (its an important job!), and came across a post that gave me pause.

It was by a lovely lady that is much younger than I who has done actual great things for humanity.  She had been in a Starbucks and said something to the effect of, "I am sitting behind a bunch of moms in their track suits and perfect ponytails all sipping lattes...I will never be like that."  All of her friends rushed to agree.

Yes!  Such small minded individuals these track suited women!

Worthy of our contempt...don't they realize that there is a world out there for the taking?  A day to be seizing??

Well, now lets just stop and think.  In the form of a list.  Because that's how I think.

1.  Of course, this lovely young thing herself was in a Starbucks sipping a latte or what have you sooooo....just curious...you know...like, how her latte sipping was morally superior...but, that's just me.  I'm Judgy McJudgerson at all times, I fully admit.

2.  We have ALL said "I will never be like that" when looking at The Moms at the mall or The Moms on our street or The Moms in our house.  Give it time, Little Lovely Young Thing...because time will indeed have the last laugh.  Trust me.

3. Let's discuss the "bunch" of moms.  Consider, Lil Lovely Young Thing, that moms spend all day with babies and toddlers with no one to talk to.  This "bunch" need each other.  Desperately.  Just to stay sane.  Yes, you are right.  They are not out negotiating peace in the Middle East or feeding the starving children in Africa.  But once, they were LLY Things too.  And they did those things, perhaps.  They were teachers, maybe.  Or even missionaries.  Or people with normal business jobs but people of influence nonetheless.  Or they were world travelers, authors, nurses, doctors, honestly...pick an important job...that "bunch" could've been one of those.  But, when its time to do the right and natural thing and have babies, they made the supreme sacrifice and gave it all up.  To be The Great Influencer of the home.

4.  On to those darned track suits that hold your complete disdain.  These Influencers  need to bend over a thousand times a day.  They are also still trying to lose that baby weight.  You WILL BE THERE someday, Little Lovely Young Thing!  And, that perfect ponytail...i'm not sure how having an imperfect one might feed a child in the slums for a day...but either way, its her "going out" ponytail.  She gets kudos for having it look that good!  Its a hard life, being a Mom.  Young Things, please show respect.  Your ponytail may NEVER reach that awesome perfection when you have 3 kids underfoot so pipe down about it.

5.  I know, I get it.  Someone could see me in Starbucks and think the same thing.  But, did you know that I love classic literature?  That I have set foot, at least, in ever State other than Alaska, in my lifetime...most of it touring with a drama team all over the country?  I'm proud of that.  Did you know that I am a compassionate person who, while my world is very small right now, tries daily to find ways to make it a better place and show the love of Jesus to those around me?  That Mom you see...maybe she just lost her father.  Maybe she's comforting a friend who is unsure about a big move coming up.  Maybe she is a human being who feels the loss of that amazing World-Saving life that she may never get back, but wouldn't trade those pudgy peanut butter-covered faces for anything. 

6.  You WILL be like that someday.  That Little Lovely Young Thing is herself getting closer and closer every day to being in that "bunch of moms".  But, you know what Young Things?  I'm proud to be that Mom.   I'm proud of my little brood.  And, so what if I need a little mindless talk with my friends and some much-needed caffeine.  There is still alot of time to Save the World.  Not only for me, but for my children.  But they will be better at it than I.  Because I am in a Track-suited, Highly-Caffeinated, Club of Great Influencers.  And, when it is your turn, all will be forgiven.  In fact, we've saved you a seat Little Lovely Young Thing.  Because, trust us, you will need all the help you can get.

Things I Love: GOOD Christmas Songs

Okay, after ripping on some of the more tacky of our festive songs, I should probably tell you some of my favorites.  I would also love to hear yours!  Mine run the gamut of the sacred/secular and contemplative/cheezy scales.

1.  Hark the Herald Angels - Like many hymns, it took me several years to really understand the importance of this song.  The melody is very sweet and lyrical.  Almost like a children's song . But do not be mistaken.  The verses guide you through the most important tenets of the Christian faith.  It is a beautifully singable song of deep theological meaning. 

Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth

This is basically Philippians 2 in verse form.  And, yes, I am proudly "one of those" that believes utterly and completely that Jesus did "lay His glory by" in order to step onto our sinful earth.  Born to conquer death. Wow.  Please don't be pacified to sit back and sing this as if you could easily transition into Jingle Bells. Great song.

2.  All I Want for Christmas is You - The Mariah Carey version all the way!  I know, its a departure from  a hymn about the Incarnation, BUT, come on!  I can't help it.  I have to sing every word.  And each year my goal is to achieve one more impossible Mariah Carey trill as she sings the entire musical scale in 6 seconds. It will happen!  

3.  Linus and Lucy - From Charlie Brown's Christmas...and again...now I feel so lame listing things other than songs about Jesus...but I just adore Vince Guaraldi, the composer of that special.  He is a genius.  I can't think of another children's cartoon Christmas special with such magnificent music.  If I could play this song on the piano I would be happy.  And, if by some Christmas miracle, my husband suddenly learned to play this on the piano for me...um, yeah...that would do it for me.  No joke.  Also, each year I have a new favorite dancer from that song.  This year, it is the girl with the Naturally Curly Hair.

4.  What Are You Doing New Year's Eve - They play this alot on Sirius XM's Holiday Traditions station.  I love it because it reminds me of that super romantic and intense phase of a relationship where you have fallen hard for someone.  This couple in this song probably met at Thanksgiving.  So awkward!  And now, they know they are special enough to each other to spend New Year's Eve together, but of course they have that midnight kiss to look forward to.  You say yes to that date and you are saying yes to much more.  Couple that with the sultry lyrics and music and I get swoon-y every time.

5.  I Heard the Bells - The story behind this song is compelling.  Side note:  pay attention to your old hymns.  Its easy to think, "A song about bells...wow, how cheesy", but do some research.  Think about the words of these types of song.  Let them steep in your brain for a while.  They are a treasure.   Anyways, here's the deal.  The author lived during the Civil War.  It was a dark time.  The quick victory was now stretching into years of turmoil, destruction, death, and poverty.  No one wanted this thing to continue but the only way to make it stop was to keep going.  A truly miserable time for our nation.  Think of it.  Long lists were posted daily of the newly deceased.  Each day, you knew you had to go see that list, but to do so meant confronting the anticipation of seeing your loved one's name on that list.  Should they be safe one more day, you are still surrounded by the wails of wives, lovers, children, mothers and fathers who were not so lucky all around you.  The Bells tolled for the dead.   Here sits our author.  Hearing those Bells on Christmas Eve.  This time, tolling the forthcoming birth of Jesus.  But, the Bells have rung too many times to bring anything but despair.  However, somewhere in that despair, a thought...a truth is brought to mind.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;
The wrong shall fail, the right prevail,
With peace on earth, good will to men  

I sing those lines and I feel like I could do battle against an army of 10,000.   Its the rally cry of Christendom!  The disease, evil, and destruction of this world will not win!  Press on!  And to think, back at the time of Christ's birth...God had been silent for 400 years.  And then, with the cry of  a baby born in a dirty stable we can again say, "God is not dead!"    

And with that, I say Merry Christmas.  Bop to Mariah in your car, watch Charlie Brown's Christmas,  smooch a loved one, and may the Peace of God rule in your hearts this season!  

Dictator

This is a quick one.   You're welcome.

I have only one thought and that is this....

Kim Jong Il's son is NOT on my list of Dictators on whom I have a crush.

He looks like an Asian Augustus Gloop from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Yes?  No?  (Da?  Nein?) 

I feel like the only thing missing from his picture is a little bit of chocolate on his mouth and a trail of Graham Cracker crumbs on his shirt that his nanny forgot to wipe off.  With any luck his over-indulged butt will get stuck in a tube of chocolate in a land without helpful Oompa Loompas.

Stunning CNN commentary this is not...but I think my thoughts still have veracity.

I added the word "veracity" so that your IQ wouldn't plummet too much from having read this post.

Again, You're Welcome.

Christmas Songs: I won't go until I get some

(tee hee...I said "get some")

Ahem...

Christmas songs are great.  Most of the time.

They are glorious declarations of the season.  At least, some of them are.

Christmas songs warm the heart.  Although, now that I think of it, some also curdle the brain.

A time-honored English carol, sung by several generations, reminds us that so much as changed and yet so much is still the same.  Except when the English Paul McCartney wrote "Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time" and caused me to accidentally swear a little in my head.

Let's face it.  We have a love/hate relationship with Christmas Music.  I'll save my favorites for another post.  For now, here are the songs that I straight-up loath and those that I like so much in spite of myself that I am filled with self-loathing.

Christmas Songs That Make Me Want to Stab Myself with a Blunt Candy Cane

I get through this song by picturing these as the Christmas shoes

1.  Christmas Shoes -  For....REAL!  What was this guy's problem when he wrote this song?   Total emotional manipulation.  Also, if I were dying in the hospital and suddenly I had to be like, "Honey?  Where's our son?"  I would not be the first person dead in that room....like, I would KILL my husband!  So, son, you might as well try to con a store clerk and naive stranger into some shoes for your Dad, as well.  Size 11.

2.  Simply Having a Wonderful Christmas Time - Its weird.  Its like if aliens from Mars embraced the hippy culture of the 70s and wrote a Christmas song about it.  Those weird little synth noises in that song creep me out.

3.  Self-Righteous Songs about Starving People - My new definition of Self-Righteous is:  Getting mad and writing a song about world hunger and how everyone else is The Worst because we forgot to tell Bono personally that we are actually giving money, sending donations, caring about our fellow man, etc. No one wants to feel like a jerk at Christmas.  Plus the line about "Do they know its Christmas time at all" bugs me because, well, if they are of non-Christian descent, then no...they don't know...and they don't care.  They are just hungry. Until my money gets to the proper Bono-less relief worker, that is.

4.  Drummer Boy - This is rife with irony.  One time, my family ate at a 1950's themed diner in Grand Rapids, MI (holla!).  We picked Drummer Boy on the juke box at our table.  The man behind us began furiously writing on his notepad...its was weird.  The next day, there was an editorial in the newspaper about a guy who loathed the family that chose this song at the diner he was eating at.  And now, Mr. Reporter, I get it.  So much Pa-rum-pa-pa-pumming!  And, again, it doesn't make sense!  There were not drummer boys at the Nativity, and if there were, I'm sure that would be the second mother in this blog post that would be doing some killing.  A sleeping infant's manger is a No-Parumping Zone.

5.  12 Days of Christmas - I have a Christmas CD that has a scratch during this song that makes it skip at least 4 days.  I could not be more thrilled

Christmas Songs that I Kind of Like but Kind of Loath Myself for Liking

1.  Last Christmas - Wham! (George Michael).  I'm sorry.  But I super duper love this song.  I sing every word at the top of my lungs while driving.  My favorite thing is the weird way he says his words:

Last Christmas I "gev" you my heart

The very next day, you "gev" it away

This year to "sev" me from tears

I'll give it to someone special

2.  Grown Up Christmas List - Many Artist in Whom I am Disappointed.  BUT!  I have just this year found the secret to enduring this song.  Singing, very loudly, your own grown up christmas list.  Things like:

No more crying in the dark!

Won't get attacked by sharks!

And peopewillfinallypickuptheirdogspoop in the park!!!

3.  Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer - How gauche.  And yet...I find myself giggling every time.

Oh, Neil don't look at me that way, I'm sorry!

4.  You Make it Feel Like Christmas - Neil Diamond.  I yell, "YES!!!!" every time I hear this song.  My siblings and I have an entire routine to this horribly cheesy ode to schmaltz. 

You make it feel like Christmas

Even when things go wrong

I hear the sound of Christmas

In your song

(what does that even MEAN?)

5.  Snoopy's Red Baron song - I just don't...really...get...why...this...is...a...Christmas...song.  NEVERTHELESS!  I somehow find myself getting wrapped up in the scintillating narrative.

Ta-daaaaaaaaaa!  That's it!  Yankee Peach's exhaustive list of the Worst, and Guilty-Pleasurest Songs of Christmas.  What's on your list(s)?

Things I Love, Part 6

Let me cut to the chase.  I love CeraVe.   Its changed my face.

Back Story Time!!!  I managed, during my teenaged years, to not struggle with acne very much.   During my pregnancies in my twenties, I had constant breakouts on my chin and around my mouth.  So nasty.  These came back about a year ago.  My skin routine was always the same, lots of Clearasil and anti-acne moisturizers, etc.  My goal was to strip away all the oil, leaving my skin with that squeaky clean feel, like after you clean your Tupperware and rub your finger across it..you know that sound?  Like a "uree, uree"...maybe that's just in my brain...

SO, then about 6 months ago, I decided that on top of having acne like a middle school student, I am also old. I start experimenting with those age reversal lotions with retinols in them.  These severely irritated my skin to the point where I would have to take a Benadryl every night just to keep my eyes from swelling up.

Luckily for me, I have a dear, sweet, beautiful, smart, and gracious friend who is a Physician's Assistant in the Dermatology field.  (You should really all get yourself one of those).  I sent her a text with a nasty picture of my eyes, asking for help, and expecting to hear that I would need to spend hundreds of dollars on specialized lotions to get the results I wanted.

Nope!  She recommended CeraVe.  Available at Walgreens, Walmart, and other such stores.

I was hesitant at first for two reasons.

First of all, I am cheap.  I bought the big Hyrdating Cleanser, the AM lotion and the PM lotion, per my friend's instructions.  Total, it may have cost me $40 at Walgreens.  To most of you, that's a good deal, but as a Midwest girl of Dutch descent, I don't like to spend $40 on anything.  However, these are not the tiny 1 oz. Oil of Olay containers.  Mine have lasted since August and I still have not had to run to the store for more.

Secondly, it was all moisture-based!  CeraVe proudly promises to protect your "moisture barrier"!  What?  This did not sound like a product for a pubescent, aging lady in her 30s.  Creamy cleansers were for wimps.

But my friend is smart and her skin is flawless, so I gave it a try.

Oh. My. Gosh.  It was awesome!!!

Results:  My skin is luminous.  My eye irritation is completely gone.  My face no longer looks red and irritated, as I also have mild rosacea.  AND...wonder of wonders...within a couple weeks my acne was completely cleared up and has never come back.  Any random spots are quickly cleared up, but I can usually trace those back to 4-year-old peanut butter hands touching my face.  And, something I wasn't expecting, the scars from the very harsh blemish cream that I used are not nearly as noticeable.  My skin seems to be repairing.   My sister has since started using it and also gives it rave reviews.


Why it works:  Okay, Science Time.  Most of this is courtesy of my smart, beautiful, P.A. friend.

Your skin, on a microscopic level, looks like a brick wall.  A new, pretty brick wall has straight lines, no cracks, no moisture getting into the bricks to damage them.  That is because of the mortar between the bricks.

The "mortar" of your skin is your moisture barrier.  It gets damaged all the time by genetics, exposure to the elements, and things like harsh skin products.  Your skin begins to look like an old brick wall.  Pretty scary.  With the mortar gone, cracks form, and foreign things like bacteria can get into your skin, which cause irritation and acne.

CeraVe has ceramides and lipids in it...these make up that precious "mortar" in your skin.  Using CeraVe has restored my moisture barrier and allowed my skin to heal from some of the damage I'd just done to it with all the chemicals I was using.

Now, it will NOT reverse aging.  It is "anti-aging" in that it will drastically slow down the process, but your genetics and past sun-exposure will require the help of a Dermatologist or some of those age-reversing lotions in stores.  However, CeraVe will help your skin look smooth and keep that supple, healthy look that most of us thought we'd lost forever.  I didn't realize that many of the "wrinkles" around my eyes were just my skin's cry for attention and moisture.  And, if any of you struggle with adult acne, this stuff is absolutely wonderful.

You will need:

Hydrating Cleanser - it comes in a foam, too, but I use the one that goes on like a lotion.  It takes some getting used to if you don't usually use creamy cleansers.

AM Lotion - this stuff REALLY slows down the aging process with its built-in SPF 30 Sunscreen.  It doesn't feel like a facial sunscreen, though, which is a relief.

PM Lotion - my favorite.  Its a great way to end the day.  You can almost feel your little skin cells saying "thank you"

If you have any questions about the products, let me know!  If I don't know the answer I will ask the Dermatologist P.A. that I keep in my pocket. 

Things I Love, Part 387

Four Christmases ago, I had an idea.  I was going to go house-to-house and pass out Christmas cookies.  This may seem like no big deal, but it was a very strategic and advantageous move on our part.

We had just moved into our house in October.  Having only moved from Michigan 6 months earlier to Atlanta, we were still trying to connect to the area.  It wasn't "home" yet.

In fact, my husband and I had moved several times before settling here.  We are nomads by nature.  His parents were in the military and my parents were in the ministry.  Both careers are a "family business" and often require a move every couple years.

This year's cookie cornucopia

In our eight years of marriage, we had moved seven times...not including a couple move-ins with my parents between houses.  Feeling settled and "connected" takes time, and we rarely had that opportunity.

So, you see Christmas Cookies are a "Thing I Love" because it allowed us to quickly get to know our neighbors.  I highly recommend it, even if you've lived in your neighborhood a long time.

And, it doesn't have to cost you a fortune.  That first year, I did my Mother-in-law's peppermint bark and my own peanut clusters.  Those bless-ed peanut clusters make 110 to a batch, so its alot of bang for your buck. I don't get fancy with the containers...just plastic or paper Christmas plates wrapped in saran wrap.

We have a huge neighborhood, so I am forced to relegate myself to the 14 or so houses in our cul-de-sac.  But, that first year, I instantly knew 14 neighbors.  I knew who I was waving to as they walked their dogs.  I knew their husband's name.  I learned about some different cultures and the different religious views in my little 14 house world.  And we've continued the tradition every year.

This year, think about going out of your comfort zone.  Its always a tentative feeling between ringing the doorbell and the neighbor coming to the door after they realize you are not a polite burglar.  But its so worth it.

Here's my two faithful recipes.  I've since added candy canes dipped in white chocolate with red sprinkles, stain glass cookies (not for the faint of heart), and either hershey kiss cookies or triple chocolate peppermint cookies.  But, if you are just getting started, here's some help:

Chocolate Peanut Clusters
Put 1 bar of German Chocolate cooking chocolate, 48oz. Almond Bark, and 12 oz. semi-sweet chocolate chips in a crock pot. Cover with 16oz. dry-roasted UNsalted peanuts and 16oz. dry-roasted salted peanuts. Put the lid on and set the crock pot on warm for 3 hours. Don't stir it. Don't lift the lid, don't do anything!! When the 3 hours are up, just stir it all together for a couple minutes until everything is completely melted and mixed together. Turn the crockpot off and spoon onto waxed paper and wait for it to cool.

Georgia's Peppermint Bark 

1/4 bag peppermint candies, crushed (you can also use candy canes...really, just mix in as much or as little as you like)

1 lb. bag candy melts (at Michael's, but they are expensive.  I use Kroger white chocolate chips to great effect.  Just make sure the chips have cocoa butter in them.  Don't use "chocolate flavored" stuff.  Keep it real)

1/4 tsp. peppermint flavoring

Crush peppermint with a mallet into small pieces.  Melt chocolate in a microwave bowl for 1 minute.  Stir.  Repeat for 30 seconds until melted.  Stir in flavoring and peppermints.  Place wax paper on a cookie sheet, then spread mixture on the was paper.  Put in fridge until cool  Cut into bit-size pieces.

 Okay, technically, they are not "Christmas Cookies"...but no one is going to complain.

Merry Christmas!  Happy Cookie Eating!

Legit-ism

Do you guys know Ayn Rand?  The author/philospher?  She wrote an amazing book called "Atlas Shrugged" in which she revealed her take on life, which she called "Objectivism".  The book showed how her philosophy played out in every detail of life in America.

Well, I have news today my friends.  Not only have I shamelessly likened myself to Oprah due to the vaguely moderate MASSIVE appeal of my blog, but am now ready to join Ayn Rand in coining my own world view.  It is called  Legit-ism.  I just want things to be Legit.

I know what you are thinking, so here you go, get it out of your system...

And maybe..

Okay, back to business.  Legitism means that I don't like stuff unless its Legit.  It manifests itself in many facets of life.

Interior Decor  

My house is not very decorated.  I'm not saying its poorly decorated, but I do NOT want to go to Target, buy a box of 3 wrought-iron swirly things with no point to them and  hang them on my wall to take up space.  I want the things in my house to have meaning.  And, since I've been home with babies for 6 years, there isn't much there yet except for construction paper butterflies stuck to my wall.

I do not believe that, just because I like Tuscany, my house should look like this...

If my house is going to have yellowed plaster, its because I live in Italy in an 800 year old chateau, with windows draped in real grape vines brought in from our latest harvest.


The Tuscan needs to be Legit.

My house is so bare....so very very devoid of style...because I'm waiting for Legit things.  My carpet is old.  I have white Florida Retirement Home-style tile flooring in my kitchen.  Why?  Because even though I COULD afford some variation of wood flooring, I'm holding out for wide-plank walnut floors that have just been hand crafted from a local walnut tree..orchard...do they have those?  Not particle board or veneers...wood.

Basically, because I have SUCH Legit and exquisite taste...I don't actually own anything.

I try.  I see random wooden vases in a type of Modern Aboriginal Fusion style in TJ Maxx but I just can't.  I've never been to Australia.  Besides, those things are made in South Korea not by a man in a loin cloth from the outback.

Fashion

I will be so angry if this pattern does not go all the way around

I do not own as many clothes as I would like.  Because, again, they need to be Legit.  A shirt is not Legit if it has a pattern on the front but it does not go all the way around to the back.  With some things that makes sense, but you know what I mean.  A nice flowery pattern when I look at myself in the mirror and then a blank canvas on the back because someone was too cheap to think it mattered.  Why wouldn't I want to look good leaving?  And I also will not buy a V-neck shirt that has that tiny triangle of fabric sewn into it as if there is a camisole underneath.  No.  Not Legit.

My prized wardrobe possession is a fisherman's sweater from Nazare', Portugal.  Its huge on me, but its the sweater that they actually wear to keep warm while fishing.  I haven't dry-cleaned it in 11 years because it still smells like Portugal.

 Hair

Britney Spears started the "Sexy, Messy,Homeless Person Ponytail" trend several years ago.  Its still big out here in the Atlanta burbs.  I can rock the track suit at Kroger, but my homeless ponytail is truly repulsive.  Why?  Because if I actually have to take 30 minutes to achieve a Messy Ponytail...its...not...Legit.

Stoners

I was an anomaly in high school.  Totally uptight evangelical christian girl, but most of my friends were stoners.  My husband and I were talking about this the other night.  His high school stoners wore plaid shirts from Abercrombie, drove BMWs and used "Bed Head" hair product to achieve that grungy nasty look.  Psh.  I bet his stoners even wore underwear.  MY stoners, were actually grungy.  Like, as in, they didn't "shower much".  Their clothes were awesomely old, some actually handed down from their hippie parents.  Their hair was long, shaggy, and my friend Matt had the dreads of a god.  You hopped into their cars and they had that musty incense smell.  I may not have approved of their lifestyle choices and may have been very astounded that they liked me, but they were...say it with me...Legit.

I didn't mean to follow the days-old, momentarily-honored tradition of Legit-ism, its just a product of how I already live!  I find myself complimenting something by saying, "Wow, that's Legit!"   If I hear a song on the radio that is not over-produced, has soul, and obviously some very talented musicians, declaring them "Legit" is the best compliment I can give!

The list goes on and on.  Literature, Music, Movies, Souvenirs...don't even get me started on China Patterns!  I guess you could take "Legit-ism" and think I mean "Snobbery".  Its just that in a "Faux World", I'm ready for some authenticity.  It may be in people or in the antique suitcases stacked up to make an end table.  Those suitcases had BETTER be your great-grandmother's or I'll be just a teensy bit disappointed.

Be Legit.  Be Too Legit To Quit.  (there...happy now?)

Polite Conversation

I love people.

I do.

People are great.

What I really hate is small talk.

I'm terrible at it.

However, if People want to talk about their kids, their careers, their jewelry-making hobby, I'm fine with that.

But, a certain type of People drive me a little insane.  In fact, there should be a rule.  Well, I guess there already is one, and I would like to add my own spin on it.

"When making polite conversation, never talk about money, politics, religion, or...the weather."

I know, the weather does not ruffle feathers or start drunken family fights at Christmas parties, but I feel that I have some valid points, so hear me out.

Point Number One. Here's the thing about weather...who honestly cares?  That point stands on its own.

Point Number Two. Upon arriving at a party, its a given that we have all just been in the same weather.  We already know that its a crystal clear night or that it looks like rain.  As we all converge on someone's house, should we also talk about the road we were all just on?

"Oh, my, that is some really gray asphalt in your neighborhood, Charlene!  Did anyone else notice how gray the asphalt was?"

"Roger and I were JUST talking about Charlene's road and commenting on the color."

"Well, Jim and I were completely distracted by the smooth texture to even notice the color.  How did you keep your road from being too bumpy, Charlene?"

No.  We do not talk about the road.  And I propose the same be true of the weather.

I suppose the only exception to my "No Weather" policy is if you have a fantastic anecdote to share.  I love a good anecdote.  If you once had a tornado rip through your neighborhood or you were dismayed to find that, on your once-in-a-lifetime trip to Hawaii that it actually snowed, those are good stories.

But I know People guilty of only talking about the weather.  Non-stop.  For hours.

"My goodness, Charlene, its breezy today!"

"Oh, it is breezy you are right!"

"Would you say its as breezy as it was on Tuesday?"

"Well...let's think about that...Tuesday was a fair-to-moderate breeze, but I wouldn't go so far as to call it a wind...and this breeze today doesn't seem anywhere near that caliber."

"Hm.  True.  But..(small laugh because this is getting really interesting)...ha!...NOTHING beats the Breeze of '98!  Remember the Breeze of '98, Charlene!"

"Oh, ho ho hoooo, how could I forget!  That breeze made all the leaves fall of that Japanese Maple in the front yard...was that a Japanese Maple?"

Oh. my. goodness.  And, the entire time, you are forced to sit there and go "Ah!" and "Oh, really?" while slowly and methodically trying to pierce your own torso with a dull butter knife because the pain reminds you that you are alive.

Of course, one could turn The Weather into an acceptable conversation topic with a little creativity.  Perhaps if we added a conceptual or metaphysical spin to the weather conversation?  Maybe questions like:

"So, Charlene, tell me, as a breeze expert...what separates a breeze from a wind, I've always been curious?"

Or

"You know, they say that every snow flake is completely different.  But, what if snow flakes were all exactly the same?  Does that change anything about your views on society?  God?  snowflake crafts?"

Yeah, you can talk about weather like that and I would be okay with it.

So, this holiday season,  please don't talk about the weather.  In fact, PLEASE explain to me how your politics are better than mine or give hints all night that your husband makes more money than mine does.  Its preferred over scintillating comments about the sudden drop in barometric pressure.

The Disney Strategy

I know, I know, its my second Disney post.  But, get used to it.  I love that place with a passion.  And not because I love to whirl around on Dumbo 18 million times with my kids.  The entire Disney concept immerses you in a world of near-perfect customer service.  Did you know that the employees, during their training, are told how to make magical moments happen?  They are TRAINED to do things that make incredible stories just for you and your family!  If you've had that happen to you while there, please post and tell your story.

My daughter and one of our favorite princesses

A-N-Y-H-O-O

The real reason that I am writing is because I know at least half a dozen families planning or contemplating a trip right now.  Many of them feel like their heads are going to explode with the details.

Disney seems to lose its magic somewhere between seeing the commercial where Cinderella's Carriage arrives at your front door and actually planning a trip to the Happiest Most Behemoth Place On Earth.  You feel slammed with details.  At the same time as you are trying to set a budget, you are thinking about where to stay, and that makes you wonder if you should drive, and that makes you think of rides, and which parks to go to, and how to meet Cinderella, and where to eat...bam!  ALL at one time. 

Let me help you.  I won't go into many details, because that would mean writing a book.  But let me give you the 4 Stages of Planning a Disney Trip.

1.  SET A BUDGET

We have several spreadsheets that come up with every possible scenario.  Staying on-site in a Disney hotel without the Dining Plan.  Staying on-site with Dining Plan.  Staying off-site but having to pay parking daily at the parks.  Staying off-site in a condo versus a hotel room.  We look up Disney Menus and get an idea of what our daily meals will cost.  We estimate (be realistic here) how much we will spend on souvenirs daily.  Typically, for us, a short 2-Park/3Day visit means staying off-site and buying our food.  Our longer Disney Extravaganzas end up being more cost-efficient when we stay on-site, somehow.  I don't know...spreadsheets don't lie. It seems very Un-Magical, but it takes your mind off that stuff when you are actually on vacation.  AND it will determine the next Stage.

2.  DETERMINE WHEN AND WHERE

Do NOT skip right to which meals to plan so that you can meet Mickey Mouse.  Don't do it, you hear me!  Stick with the boring things first!  Try to avoid Summer, but if you can't, try to go at the very beginning or tail end.  Especially if you are from Georgia, you can sneak in there in late May/early June before most schools are out and not have record high crowds.

Lots of websites and books can help you determine peak and slow seasons.  September and January/February are our favorites, and, yes, we are those naughty parents that pull our kids out of school.

Even during slow seasons, avoid all holidays.  President's Day may not be celebrated at your office, but it pushes Disney crowds to full capacity!  And, from personal experience, skip it the week of Mardi Gras.  APPARENTLY all of New Orleans escapes the crowds by destroying other people's peaceful Disney vacation...bitter...

Disney's Pop Century - An Economy Resort

This is the time to get online and research the different Disney Resort options, as well as any condo or hotel options in the surrounding area.  Its best to stay on-site for the entire experience, but nice hotels have to lure you away by offering very cheap rates for beautiful rooms and suites. If you are on a tight budget think off-site or Disney's Economy Resorts.

NOW....you can make that magical call to Disney and book your vacation!!!!!   You can also take a little breather before moving on to the next step.

3.  DETERMINE WHICH PARKS YOU WANT TO VISIT AND WHEN

Its important to have a strategy.  Again, it sounds stressful, but working it out on the front end will make your actual trip worth every penny!  There are 4 Disney Parks.  Magic Kingdom really deserves 2 days, if you can do it.  Epcot is a full day and alot of walking.  You may want to build in a Rest Day after Epcot.  Animal Kingdom closes at 5pm, so you have time to relax in the evening.  Hollywood Studios is not a full day if you have small kids.  There's alot of great stuff to do there for little ones, but its mostly geared toward pre-teens and older.

Really, it should be its own country

Our first time, we were overwhelmed by where to go.  SO, we made another spreadsheet:)  We listed all the rides in each park and rated them on which were our favorites.  It was obvious that we needed two days at MK and could maybe even cut out Hollywood Studios since our kids were really young.

Please, do yourself a favor, and make a schedule.  Disney is huge.  And you paid alot of money to be there.  And no one wants to use their brain on vacation.  Use your brain now.  Determining a schedule is also mandatory if you want to have sit down meals...

4.  MAKE YOUR DISNEY RESTAURANT RESERVATIONS

Sanaa

With so many Character Meals (where you meet princesses and other characters) and the surprising lack of sit down restaurants, you HAVE to reserve your seats ahead of time.  You can start calling 90 days before your trip. (Edit:  It is now 180 days!)  This is why having a schedule is important.  If you try to make reservations before determining which day you are in the park, your head will be liable to explode again.  Reservations go for non-character meals, as well.  Any sit down restaurant where the food is served to you needs a reservation.  Make a calendar with your top 2 or 3 options for each day, then make the call.   The Disney folks are wonderful to work with.  Please call before going online.  I once could not find ANYTHING available on a particular day.  That poor woman searched and searched for me, and found me a new, little-known restaurant outside Animal Kingdom called Sanaa.  It is now our absolute favorite Disney restaurant.

There you go!  You've planned your trip!  Was that so hard?  Of course, now there is forming a strategy for getting to all your rides once in the park, figuring out if you need a stroller, knowing what to bring into the park with you, etc., but that's small potatoes with  many online resources to help.  Plus, your local Yankee Peach is ALWAYS willing to give endless advice and thoughts on the matter...for free!

Body Suit

I had an interesting conversation with my sister-in-law during Thanksgiving.  It gave us pause and caused us to reflect on some of the choices that we had made in the 1990s.  Choices that seemed like a good idea at the time, but that we have now come to regret and feel embarrassed to mention.

You see, kids, sometime in the 90s, someone thought they had a brilliant idea.  A far-fetched notion that could change fashion forever.  An idea so crazy, that it just HAD to work.

Someone, somewhere, decided that if you took the effortless pragmaticism of this:

For real, this is a cool onesie

And married it to the chic classic look of this:

You would hit a gold mine by creating this:

Not just for the gentlemen of Dancing with the Stars, ladies.

The Body Suit.

It made sense, I guess.  Women everywhere cheered.  Their collared shirts being fitted and not as long as men's shirts, this answered the problem of, as a lady, having to constantly tuck their shirt in at the office.  The glass ceiling had been broken by a glorified onesie!  We were now the equal to men!

There were, of course, some alternatives to the "Lady of the Office" look.  In high school, my coeds and I were known to strut the hallways in styles much like this:

OBVIOUSLY we had pants on, though.

What could cause such a fabulous concept to lack staying power?  Well, I can't be certain, but for me, it was a problem with...well..."the snaps".  You see, as much as one would like to fool oneself into thinking that one was wearing a very practical piece of clothing, at the end of the day one was wearing a, well, one-sie.  And, being a onesie, there were three snaps.  Three snaps...down...there.  So much fun when you have to go to the bathroom but must first fiddle with The Snaps.

And so mortifying when you bend down too quickly and hear a triple snapping sound only to realize that the darned thing has freed itself from your nether regions and will now start flapping around in the breeze if you do not make it to a bathroom fast to remedy the situation.  And, honestly, the unsnapped onesie on display outside the pants is just not as adorable on a 15 year old as it is on a 1 year old.

Sadly, the trend could not last.  Unless, apparently, you shop at Chadwick's.  For the rest of us, we just need to constantly...um...adjust ourselves...for lack of wanting to think of a better term.  My only hope is that some brilliant mind doesn't try combining a GAP collared shirt with this truly appalling thing I found on Google images:

There needs to be limits to the crafty, make-at-home baby clothing trend.  Someone make a limit.

A Very Bruder Thanksgiving

I have 30 people descending upon my house tomorrow.  7 of which will stay the weekend, meaning 11 in my home total, plus hosting all those additional people.

Its a Very Bruder Thanksgiving.

That's my mom's maiden name...Bruder.  And I LOVE being a Bruder. 

Tall, tough, Dutch/German stock.  Blond hair (with a few of us rare brunette exceptions), blue eyes, big feet, love of adventure, game for anything, ready to laugh, fabulous sense of humor.

Two years ago, I invited my sister's family and my parents up from Florida for Thanksgiving.  The natural question was, "Well, why not include the Atlanta Bruders?"  The next natural question was, "Well, won't the Virginia and Michigan Bruders feel left out?"

That's another Bruder trait...we do EVERYTHING together.  No one has a headache and stays home.  No one decided they don't like sledding and would rather stay back and watch TV.  No.  One.  Ever.

Last year we all departed for our in-law's families.  This year I wondered what would happen.  I didn't want to force Bruders to drive 12 hours North and South to converge on Atlanta.  But, sure enough, the emails and calls came and just like that, a tradition is born!

That's another Bruder trait...we LOVE tradition.  We can smell a tradition a mile away.  Someone may try something new...like, introducing a new board game.  Fine, we had fun.  But there is something inherent in each of us that just knows when we will do something repeatedly for the rest of our lives.

I have fine china and beautiful silver.  They serve 12.  I don't feel like deciding which of my relatives are Silver Relatives and which ones are Plastic Relatives.

I also need four tables because I insist that we all eat together.  However, 4 table's worth of fine linen I have not.  So, we are going all out cheese-fest with the paper table clothes festooned with brown and orange turkeys...that same pattern repeated on every plate, cup, napkin...everything but the plastic ware.

All the Atlanta Bruders will bring the fixins while I provide two turkeys.  With so many of us, there will be no china platters and silver servings spoons.  Just a  kitchen counter crammed with food and lots of mismatched pyrex dishes. 

The thought of it makes me want to cry.  Not of shame, but of total love for my family.

That's another Bruder trait...we just want to be together.  There are never any pretenses.  There are 2-liters of pop (soda...coke...), and red plastic cups and laughter and love and that unspoken, visceral sense of security that comes from knowing you will always be loved by four generations of people, no matter what.

And that those people are the most wonderful people on the planet.

Whether its just your family and your finest silver or a friendly get together with neighbors, have a beautiful Thanksgiving!  The Bruders will :)

Lady Porn

Goodness!  Its been a while since I've written.  Sorry.  This Peach has had a bout of the flu.  Sunday, I had to carry on as if I did not want to rip out my own intestines and throw them down the toilet (just to save time).  All day, I kept telling myself, "If you can do this, you can get in your jammies at 6pm and watch Pride and Prejudice".

And that, my dearests, is exactly what I did.  Not the 6 hour  PBS version with the gorgeous Colin Firth and the super ugly Jane.

Sorry, PBS Jane

 My favorite is the Keira Knightly version, who plays a very toothy Lizzie next to an ethereal Jane, on whom I sort of may have a slight crush.

Movie Jane...sigh...

After a while, my husband came home.  I felt very self-conscious watching Pride and Prejudice with him right there.  Kind of embarrassed.  I found myself trying to act like I wasn't all swept up in the subtle remarks of the distant but love-sick Darcy.

And then I realized.  Pride and Prejudice is Lady Porn.

Talk about unrealistic expectations!

While watching that movie, I wanted to hit my husband on the leg and say things like:

"Why were you so friendly and open and honest and so stinking eager to fall in love with me???"

"What on earth possessed you to wear jeans and a T-shirt every day, instead of those breaches with the weird button on the crotch and those long jackets with the tall collars?"

 "Would it have KILLED you, while we were dating, to call me Miss Yankee Peach and to not touch me at all so that when you helped me into a carriage our hands 'zinged' with energy?"

"WHY HAVE YOU NEVER IGNORED ME FOR WEEKS ON END AND THEN ASKED ME TO DANCE THE QUADRILLE WITH YOU AT MR. BINGLY'S BALL?????"

How come our foreheads don't glow when they touch?  Hrumph!

As with the real stuff, Lady Porn is unrealistic and  unfair to the opposite gender.  So, the way to remedy this and to keep your head on straight, ladies, is to think of all the reasons why you should NOT want to live in the 18th century.



You could not own land or vote.

I don't even want to KNOW how girls handled their monthly "Lady Time" in 1789.

In reality, you would've gotten stuck with the clergyman, Mr. Collins...who is also your cousin.

If you even met your Mr. Darcy at all, you would probably just die 9 months after marriage in child birth.

No matter how rich and affluent you were, you still had to go potty in a chamber pot.  

Billowy night shirt/polite, brooding pirate clothes

So, if you are "in the mood" for a little Pride and Prejudice this week, just take it easy on the man in your life afterward.  He may not ride a horse or wear those white billowy night shirts that they just tucked into their breaches during the day to look like a handsome genteel pirate (calm down, Sara, calm down), but he is still your hero in a million 21st century ways.  Cuddle up in your jammies, get a bowl of ice cream, and enjoy the 18th century in all its Jane Austen glory!

"Retarded"

Retarded comes from the Latin word retardare.  It means "to be slow, to be delayed, to impede progress"

Every person on this planet is slow at something, delayed at something, not nearly as progressed as someone else at something.

I can sing.  I am also fabulous with dates and facts in a historical context.  I love reading classic literature.  I am horrible beyond horrible at math.  I am not coordinated.  I'm forgetful.

I know brilliant engineers that can't read a map.  I know people with very high IQs who can't spell to save their life.

Here we are, born perfect.  Perfect arms and legs.  Perfect brains.  Just the right amount of genetic material.

And yet, we all are horrendously under-developed at something.

The fact is, we have everything we need to reach a very high potential.  We just don't try.  I COULD become a passable basketball player, but I know my weaknesses so why try?  You COULD, although you think you are tone deaf, practice long enough to train your brain, ear, and vocal chords to work together in order to hum Mary Had a Little Lamb perfectly, but why?  You get along very well not knowing how to sing.

There are men, women, boys, and girls in this country who are very intelligent.  And, they do nothing but try.  They put their entire heart and soul into trying things that they are not naturally good at.  And they succeed.  They are widely successful.  If I put the amount of effort that these folks put toward meeting their goals into, say, learning Arabic, I would be fluent in 6 months. 

I am proud of these people.  And I want to be like them.  The irony, though, is that this group of individuals works so hard...so very very hard...to fit in to a society that takes one look at them and labels them.

They're Retarded.

They, by no fault of their own, have been born with one less or one more chromosome.  That tiny little chromosome makes all the difference in a person's ability to think, react, reason, learn, and apparently be accepted as valuable in society.

Here we are, completely perfect.  Easily pursuing the things we love, carelessly tossing off the things we don't or can't do.  And thoughtlessly casting a glance at someone who has had to work years to form words correctly and think, "They sound retarded."

Enough.

Do you hear me?  Enough.  No one deserves to be called Retarded.  I don't care if you are an Oxford graduate who can't play piano or have been born with Down Syndrome.  Enough.

I used to throw that word around.  I meant no harm.  I would never ever say it to a person's face who obviously had some type of mental or developmental delay.  But, then my niece, Adalie, was born.  A couple days later we learned that she had Down Syndrome.
Life changed.  My compassion for others sky-rocketed.  I grew up.

We all need to grow up.

You may think its no big deal to laugh and call your friend retarded for forgetting her keys in her car.  And I know full well you don't mean anything by it.  But each time that word gets put out into the world it creates an atmosphere. My sister and brother-in-law don't want Adalie growing up in that atmosphere.

Inevitably, a choir director will talk about a retard at the end of a musical phrase and someone has to laugh and make a play on words.  I know that person doesn't hate people with mental disabilities.  But, my heart gets sad.  Sweet little 6-year-old Adalie loves to sing.  She will have had to work so hard to read music, anunciate, and succeed in choir, and another person can just stroll in, take a seat, sing, and make off-handed comments that separate her efforts from the rest of the group.  Her efforts, though far exceeding the efforts of everyone else, are told they count for nothing when another "Retarded" pollutes her atmosphere.

Many of you are far more compassionate that I.  Many of you did not need a cute little red-head born into your family to learn to accept others.  Its my tragic regret that I was so unaware before Adalie's birth, but I am happy to try to make a difference now.

Its a small thing, really.  Its just a word.  Let's retire it and find other ways of playfully mocking ourselves and our friends.  I'm all for having a good time, and joking around.  But let's keep to the billions of others words in the world, if you don't mind, and create an atmosphere where learning to build sky scrapers and learning to hold a pencil correctly are equally applauded for the triumphs that they are to those individuals.

The Schedule

I'm taking a break from my Sitcom Star series to do something that I despise. My apologies in advance.  Please don't drop this blog and never come back because, you see, I am about...to...be...

Helpful.

I know, I promised to not be helpful, but this is a good one!  Its something that has changed my life!

I'm talking about The Schedule.

Beyonce once said that she's a fat girl in a skinny girl's body.  Meaning, that she has to constantly fight to stay away from unhealthy habits that seem natural to her.

I get that.  I am a messy girl in a clean girl's body.  I HATE  disorder.  Hate it.  But I am terribly flighty and disorganized.  A normal clean girl would have a certain place for her shoes.  Messy Girl just flings them everywhere.  But then Clean Girl can't stand the look of the house so she cleans them up.  Clean Girl is CONSTANTLY picking up after Messy Girl.  Why can't I just be one of those Messy People who lives in their own squalor and doesn't care?  Or, one of those Clean Girls who has file folders, and cool IKEA organizers, and can open her Tupperware cupboard with out cussing swears when they all come tumbling down upon her.

Then, when I was about to my have first child, my dear friend Lori shared with me about The Schedule.  Lori is a Clean Girl.  Lori keeps to The Schedule because, if she doesn't, she will just constantly clean and not spend time with her kids.  That is not why I keep to The Schedule.  I keep to it so that Child Services does not take the kids from me when they see the nature of their living conditions.

This has revolutionized my home.

Monday - Laundry Day.  It eases me into my week.  I get to watch TV but feel productive because I'm folding or waiting for things to get dry.  Now that my kids are in school, I also include Grocery Day.

Tuesday  - Kitchen Day.  Again, easy.  I cook every day, so I'm always cleaning up the kitchen.  But, its a good day to wipe down cupboards, get that awkward inch of crud behind the sink, clean the appliances, and once a year clean and organize your fridge.  Oh, what.  I mean once a WEEK!  Ha ! I totally clean out my fridge once a week...ahem...

Wednesday - Downstairs Floor Day.  Or, for those of you lucky enough to live in Michigan, the land of the 3 bedroom/2.5 bath ranch homes....just Floor Day.  I sweep/mop my kitchen, bathroom, entry way.  I vacuum the main floor.  This day ends up being my favorite because in order to vacuum, I need to pick up any messes.  I like having visitors on Thursday because my house looks spotless.  At least downstairs.

Thursday - Bathroom Day.  Hate this day.  But, when you just settle on one day (barring any children's accidents, etc...I promise, I don't let those sit there until Thursdays), you realize it doesn't actually take all that long.  Just give yourself an hour and see what happens.

Friday - Upstairs Floor Day.  Okay, just keeping it real, here.  I do not always vacuum or mop upstairs, except maybe to mop the Master Bath.  Its not a high traffic area and even if its getting a little messy, if I'm really busy or have to move Bathroom Day to Friday, I skip Upstairs.  Upstairs Day creates a little cushion in my week, should something go wrong.  BUT, when things go right, I try to make sure the kids rooms are picked up, the Master looks decent, and I try....TRY...to organize my closet.  Clean Husband is not a huge fan of Messy Girl's organizational habits in that area.

Saturday, I try not to do any work.  Its my day off.  Sunday, for me, is an actual work day at my lovely lovely church, so not much going on at home then, either.  Maybe you want to add some things on those days.  Maybe, you want to create a once a month schedule for things like, "Clean on top of the Fridge" or "Dust the Light Fixtures".  I'm trying to get there, but having at least a basic schedule keeps me from getting overwhelmed.  And, I find that after a couple weeks of keeping to The Schedule, my house looks pretty good and I can start focusing on those smaller things.

Its easy to feel like you have to clean the whole house every day.  Or, its easy to let it go because cleaning an entire house daily is way too much.  But then you are stuck wasting a day or two of life trying to overhaul the FEMA disaster that has become your house. 

A little each day, with each day designated for a specific day keeps Clean Girl and Messy Girl in balance.

Sitcom Star, Part 2

Back by popular demand...Sitcom Star!  Starring, Sara from Yankee Peach, as herself!

If you are tuning in for the first time, let me do a "Previously, on Sitcom Star..."

Sara, a world-class, sharp-witted blogger with the far-reaching ability to over-hyphenate her adjectives, suspects that her life is actually a sitcom.  Too many crazy, kooky things happen for her life to be considered normal.  Does Sara live a life that is not her own or are there other, deeper, extraordinarily disturbing psychological issues at work?  You decide on...(cue my kind of funky and cute title sequence music that ends with me turning to the camera, smiling and shrugging my shoulders)...Sitcom Star!

We have already revealed the first two secrets of being a Sitcom Star in your own home:

#1- Have a Certain Level of Social Awkwardness  
#2 Don't "Notice Things"

I was going to focus on having an Over-active Imagination, but I think those types of lessons are for later on in your season, when your show has the luxury to be more plot-driven.  For now, its important that you...


#3 Assemble a Great Cast of Characters

"Seinfeld" was a hilarious show.  But Jerry Seinfeld wasn't all that hilarious.  It was Kramer, Elaine, and George that did all the work.  Look around you and start noticing how incredibly weird, dorky, shallow, trampy, loveable, etc., etc., the people are around you.  Character-driven stories are the best.

This starts out with choosing your spouse.  My husband, George, is the Straight Man.  He is the Ricky to my Lucy.  He even has his own tag line.  Where Ricky would walk through the door and say ,"Lucy!  You got some splainin to do!"  George comes home, sees the result of my hair-brained scheme, shakes his head and quietly says, "Crazy girl..."

Looking for a great cast?  Try your work place.  My second government contracting job was at a huge company in McLean, VA.  Right down the street from the CIA.  Let me set up the characters...

Leo, my boss.  Vietnam vet, retired Lt. Colonel, old curmudgeon, who told me in my interview that he was only interviewing me as a favor to a friend.  Nice.  He hired me because I am, in fact, awesome (that egotistical attitude is only a reaction to the bitterness from the interview).  However, he acted like he hated my guts for the first year until I proved myself.  Leo was tough, moody, had gout, and endearingly sweet, fun, and kind after that first year.  However...this incident did NOT happen during the Fun Leo years.

Cameron, the admin.  The crazy, wild, rebel.  In a town that dresses like its constantly headed to some sort of business funeral right after work, Cameron wore big spiky heals, edgy clothes and sometimes some crazy shades of hair.  Cameron was a hair stylist but was just doing this job for the health benefits.  She partied alot, had a tender heart, loved kids and dogs.

Amy, the Super Admin.  Cameron and I were both admins, but I was an Executive Admin.  Amy was like the Queen Bee over all of us.  Ex-Navy.  Pretty sure Ex-Drill Sergeant.  Very serious.  Intimidating.  She was kind but soft spoken in a way that made you think she might kill you later.

Christy, the friend.  Loyal, sweet, unassuming, my sidekick at work

So, Sitcom Star Sara gets engaged.  Yay!  I go home to Kalamazoo, MI and find the perfect dress.  The shop is supposed to ship it to my home.  I give her my business card, though, because my work number was the best place to reach me if she had questions.  Back then, cellphones were for emergencies and transacting important drug deals.

Fast Forward 8 weeks.  I get a call from our Security office.  The one that processes all the Secret Documents that come in and out of the building.  Weird.  I check in, get cleared, enter the Holy of Holies, and there, amongst documents that a Russian spy would pay good money to see, is a big ole box with a flowery address label with my name on it.

My wedding dress had arrived at my government contractor.

Naturally, I take it right out to my car, to be opened when I get home that evening...

WHAT?!?  NO WAY!  That doesn't make for good TV!

I, instead, run back up to my 7th floor office, slam the door and tear open the box.  As I do, there is a knock on the door.  Its Cameron.  She calls down the hall to Amy.  Christy pokes her head out of her office at the commotion and comes running, as well.  We cram into my office and look at the dress.

"Ohhh, so pretty!", says Christy

"Its exactly what I would have picked out!" says Amy

"You should totally try it on." Says Cameron

What.  No.  I couldn't.  BUT this is where the cast of characters is important.

The Rebel is egging me, the Good Girl Who Just Wants To Fit In, to try on my wedding dress.  Amy, my superior in every way, thinks I should too.  Between the Rebel introducing the idea and me sensing an opportunity to finally bond with Drill Sergeant Amy,  I slowly come around to the idea.

There's only one problem...taking off my clothes.  In my office.  At work.  With 3 women watching me.  I glance at Christy, The Friend.  She reads my mind.  "Oh just take it all off, we don't care!"

Off it all came!  On the dress went!

It was beautiful.  But very low cut for my normal pre-funeral, government attire.

Then, in almost three part harmony, the girls chirp, "You should go show Leo!!!"

Oh my gosh.

We open the door to my office.  I am in full wedding regalia.  My three...bridesmaids?...are giggling and making a scene.  As much as my life is a sitcom, I do NOT like making scenes.  "Scenes" make me blush and cry.

I make the trek down the hall past Business Analysts, and Nuclear Disarmament experts, and Engineers, and Scientists, and Missile Defense Agency Lawyers, and land at Leo's door.

"Um, hey Leo...do you like my dress?"  I ask, feeling...no, knowing...that this is the worst idea ever.

He looked up at me from his work, his eye twitched, he looked back down and said, "Fantastic. Now, are you going to wear that all day or actually do some work?"

Of course that's how it went.  It couldn't go any other way with the characters in my life.  The dress went back in the box. I threw my dignity in there as well since I wouldn't be needing it the rest of the day.

I spent all my effort the next couple days at NOT making eye contact with all the serious important people in my office, wondering why I was so weird and why I thought it was a good idea to flounce around my office in my big sparkly wedding dress.  But, I did it.  And, none of those normal women who only wore their wedding dresses on their Big Day have a fun story to share.  

Oh, no!  We're out of time again!  I despise long blog posts...no one should think that highly of themselves.  I was still hoping to get to #4 Learn Valuable Lessons and #5  Have Endearing Yet Neurotic Traits that Land You into Inexplicable Situations!  I guess you will have to stay tuned...

Sitcom Star

Okay.  I don't know how to tell you this.  If you are standing, you may want to sit down.

My life is a Sitcom. Or, at least, I think it is.  In fact, I almost named my blog Sitcom Mom in an effort to get out my thoughts on this conspiracy.

You see, countless times in my life, people have told me that my life is like a sitcom. I've come to suspect that there are hidden cameras following me, for the viewing pleasure of folks in distant lands.  Maybe I'm a household name in Lithuania,  I don't know.

I know, it seems like I have delusions of grandeur, but instead of convincing you that I do, in fact, learn valuable lessons within 23 minutes, take prat falls, and have outlandish scenarios play out in my every day life, I will explain to you how you, too, can be an every day Sitcom Star.

Lesson #1  Have a Certain Level of Social Awkwardness

My very first job out of college was for a government contractor that developed flight simulations for training pilots and also did alot of work with unmanned air vehicles.  Intense stuff.  I shared an office with the VP of the company, Alan.  He was an intense guy.  Very intense.  He was, almost literally, an exact combination of Michael Scott and Robert California  from The Office.

Would you High Five this guy?

Alan terrified everyone in the office, and 99% of the company was grown ex-military men.  One day, Alan was on the phone. He was always on the phone. This particular day, he was attempting to silently bark orders at me and I was furiously writing down every word.  I turned to leave, but as I did I noticed his hand up in the air.  I turned back around and gave him a big, enthusiastic High Five!  Yes!  Teamwork!  Alan and Sara Forever!  Woo hoo!

But, alas, he looked back at me in complete shock.  He had meant to just get my attention to give me one more task to do.  I stood there, mortified, wanting to explain myself.  But he was ON THE PHONE so I had to just turn around and leave.  I ran down the hall to another phone and called my then-boyfriend/now-husband.

"Geoooorrrrrge!", I whispered so that no one in the office would know my shame, "I just high-fived the Vice President of my company!"

This isn't the end of it , folks.  In fact, that first High Five just started a chain of accidental High Fives that just...kept...happening!  Every couple days, George's phone would ring.  "Hello?", he would say.

"GEOOOOORRRRGE!  I just did it AGAIN!!!!"

I somehow managed to High Five the most non-high-five-able man on the planet at least 5 times in a month.  In Lithuania, I believe that episode was called "The One with the High Five".

The worst part was that Alan and I never spoke of these High Fives.  We just averted our eyes after it happened, shuffled papers, and then I would announce that I had to go to the bathroom.


Lesson #2  Don't "Notice Things"

This is terrible.  I'm a miserable human being.  Please...please don't send me hate mail.

SO.  I used to tour with a drama group called Lifeline Players during the summer to pay for college.   I went to a Christian school, so we hit up alot of churches and worked with alot of youth groups.  One night, we were to eat pizza with a youth group, mingle, then leave to do a sound check, perform, then go to a host home for dessert that evening.  Fantastic!  That was every day of my life during the summer.  But this one took a turn for the worse...

Two girls were sitting at a table.  Already...sitting. One girl was shorter than the other, but hey...we all grow at our own pace!  I walked up to them from the opposite side and cheerfully asked if I could sit down with them.  They eventually started talking about Austin Powers.

Austin Powers, my social kryptonite

 It made me nervous because, being a Christian group representing our college, I wasn't supposed to talk about raunchy movies with 14 year olds.  They were talking about a character in one of the movies that was rather large.  Somehow.  SOMEHOW my way of turning the conversation around was to say this...

"You know.  I feel really bad for fat people in movies.  They go into an audition knowing that they are trying out for a role where people are going to laugh at them for being large.  Its like how midgets (no...didn't even say little people...totally said midgets...) are always laughed at in movies.  Its just wrong."

The girls looked at me.  Just stared.  Wow, they were obviously socially stunted.  I felt the conversation dying...from NO lack of me trying...so I ended with, "Well!  We have to go do our sound check!  Nice to meet you!"

Scene fades to black.

Scene comes back up with my 5 team mates and I eating pie in a living room with a bunch of grown ups.  A lady asks Jason, our leader,  "Did any of you get to meet Mandy?"  I almost said yes, but I had pie in my mouth.  "Oh", the lady said, "She has SUCH an incredible story!  She has dwarfism and has really overcome so many hurdles in her life."

I stopped...LITERALLY with a fork half way up to my mouth...and I freeze (See?  Just like in a TV show!)

From across the room I see Jason notice me.

It is not 10 minutes later that he corners me and says, "Sara...what did you do now?"

My show would be called "That's So Sara", I think.  And, as the music hummed my quirky intro, I would turn with a smile toward the camera, shrug my shoulders, and give a look that says, "What are you gonna do?"

You know what?  That's enough for now.  I will have to make this a series.  No need to give away all my Sitcom Secrets in one blog.   Stay tuned for Lesson #3 Obtain an Over-active Imagination and Lesson #4 Have Naturally Fabulous Comedic Timing.

Meanwhile, I need to go get into Hair and Make-up before Choir tonight at church.