Yeah!

Anybody notice it's snowing outside? :)

The best thing about my little desk at my little office is that I have a window in front of me that my desk is shoved up against. (Note: I realize the grammar police would quickly ticket me for this sentence since it should read "against which my desk is shoved" or something like that- but it sounds ridiculous, so instead you get bad grammar.)

Anyway, it sure looks pretty outside- too bad I forgot my boots -I'd take a walk in it before the girls got out of school and daycare.

Makes me feel like I'm in Maine -although in Maine right now they have something like 3 1/2 feet of snow on the ground.

If you are in Maryland, I hope you have the chance to enjoy it while it lasts.

Now We Are Six

It's a little late, but here are a few highlights from the Pickle's pet-themed party:

            Mmmmm...butter cream frosting

   What dreams do 6 year olds wish for?

     15 kids do some damage to a cake.

 A little swag left over from The Golden Globes.

The best part of a big sister's birthday - the cheesy puffs!

Happy birthday Pepper!  We love you!

They Do It Different in Maine

On Sunday night, my family ordered takeout from the new Italian joint a few miles from my folks’ house. My parents aren’t vegetarians like us, but my mother doesn’t eat any red meat and my father only eats it occasionally since it doesn’t make any sense for him to cook two separate meals. So when my brother-in-law comes to town, my father has a carnivorous cohort and they typically find some meat products to eat together. It’s a good bonding experience I would imagine.

The order from the takeout place was fairly ordinary- cheese pizza, French fries, salads, pasta and then, something new; a cheeseburger pizza for the meat-eating men.

Now, there are all sorts of things one might imagine on a cheeseburger pizza I suppose, but the conscientious around here was that a cheeseburger pizza would be hamburger and extra cheese.

Here's is the actual list of ingredients:
Hamburger
Onions (a dreaded substance to my sister’s husband)
Pickles
American Cheese food- none of that fancy mozzarella here

And the crowning glory – no pizza sauce, simply ketchup baked onto the crust.

Um...

Does this seem weird to anyone else? Maybe it's just me, but I think if you were going to create such an unusual pizza, with such, ah, creative, ingredients, don't you think that it would merit a line of explanation on the menu?

My brother-in-law likes a lot of food, but he has drawn the line at a cheeseburger pizza.

If, however, this sounds appetizing to you, let me know and I’ll give you their phone number. I’m sure they’d deliver.

The Reset Button

There's been a lot of sickness as of late around our house. I've had an ear infection, the Pickle spent all of Sunday throwing up, the Land Baron is worn out from lots of late, long hours at the hospital and Pepper is plagued by some unaccounted for malaise. Everyone seems to be heading towards health again, except the Pepper. She has spent the last several days just sort of moan-y, a little feverish, cranky and weepy at the drop of a hat. Today was a particularly bad day for her. The final straw was apparently when I chose the wrong color socks to put on her little chilly toes. She wept from the depths of her heart as if I truly had broken it by suggesting the contrasting color of cotton.

So we needed to reset. Cut to: small children piled into the car, wind whipping around us, pulling out of the driveway under cover of darkness (at 5p.m. - but it seemed much later). Fifteen minutes later, pulling through the parking lot of our friend Wendy, nary a tear or a moan. It was, instead, replaced by the sound of contented children munching on the deliciously decadent french fries and Mr. Pibb for dinner. Add to that a few extra minutes on the road driving through neighborhoods looking at holiday lights and suddenly the world seemed a little more bearable for a two year old overwhelmed with the prospect of getting through even one more minute with her sanity in tact.

We returned and were able to manage bath and the bedtime routine without a single meltdown. Sometimes Christmas miracles really do happen in real life.

The Most Wonderful Time

So here's something most of you don't know about me. It never occurred to me that this was one of my "things;” you know those quirky habits, traditions, preferences that make each of our life stories so interesting. Anyway, I didn't know it was one of those until I mentioned it to my best friend last week and it was something that she never knew about me even though we've been friends for 18 years.

I love the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Love it. Love it to the point of obsession. I love the balloons and the Rockettes and the Broadway numbers and all the different performers. I love the cheesy worn out jokes the Today Show hosts make as parade commentators. I watch it every year. No excuses, nothing that supercedes it on the television. I am so compulsive about it that we don't have an early dinner and won't go to anyone else's house before it's over. Most years I won't even answer the phone while it's on.

I don't really care about any other parade either. I can take or leave the Parade of Roses, 4th of July parades, even parades at Disney World. But the Macy's Parade is sacred. I cry when the cut the ribbon at the beginning, cheering "Let's have a parade!" and I will not turn it off until the credits roll over Santa as he makes his way through Harold Square. I've watched it polishing silverware as a young child, I've refused to let anyone out of the hotel room when spending Thanksgiving in Florida; I've made my children turn off movies and cartoons and Christmas specials to watch it. This year, I even Tivo'd it.

And yet, I could never go see it live. Why? Because I couldn't see all of it from the parade route. The ideal situation in that case would be to reserve a room in a hotel along the parade route - one with a veranda that I could sit on and drag the television out onto so that I wouldn't miss the commentators or the Broadway shows or the ribbon cutting.

I don't know why I put so much stock in the parade. I do know that in the very rare years I didn't watch the whole thing it made it very hard for me to get into the holiday spirit. Maybe it's the innocence of the parade, maybe it's because it reminds me of all the wonderful memories about the holidays when I was growing up. But I think I've been obsessed with this parade since the first time I saw it.

I hope that all of you are blessed to have something in your life that you are attached to because it evokes such wonderful memories.

Thanksgiving FAQ's

1. No I didn't make a Tofurkey.

2. Yes, I've made one before.

3. No, I didn't enjoy it.

4. We had everything but the turkey.

5. No, that's not a euphemism for sex.

6. Yes, you can make gravy without animal parts.

Hope yours was an enjoyable day as well.

"If the only prayer you ever said was 'Thank You,' it would be enough."

My Lesson In Gratitude

About six months before I left Los Angeles I was up in San Jose for a trade show. After working at the convention center all day, a couple of us were meeting some people for drinks and dinner at another, much swankier hotel than the one in which we were staying.

I didn't really know the folks we were meeting, they were business acquaintances whom I had never met face to face until that time.

I remember thinking they were much cooler than me, their jobs much more prestigious. They clearly made a lot more money than I did, and they could afford living in trendy parts of New York City. Their company clearly spent no expense to make sure they were comfortable and staying in an A+ hotel. Although they were funny and welcoming and lovely people, I felt inferior and just a smidge on this side of jealous.

After having a couple of martinis I excused myself for a visit to the ladies room. I walked in and there were a couple of women cleaning the bathroom. One was in a stall cleaning the toilet so I couldn't see her. The other was refilling the paper towels.

As I washed my hands, the woman cleaning the toilet came out. She was young, in her early twenties, Latino. She was very hot and tired; it showed in her face. She was also about eight months pregnant.

She eased herself onto the floor and took a drink of water. I'm sure she wanted nothing more than a nap.

I left the bathroom remembering how lucky I really was.

My wish for all of us this week is that we may all be aware of how much we have to be thankful for and how good we really have it.