Post-Christmas Blues.

There is nothing sadder than a naked Christmas tree with no presents under it on December 26th. It's the sure sign that the Christmas Season is over, and it breaks my heart.

All of the anticipation of, "did I buy him enough presents" or, "I really hope she likes that" is over, and all secrets are revealed. Bittersweet day. I've been known to complain that they start the Christmas songs and decorations a little to early, but now I don't want it to be over!

Christmas can be so stressful, but this year Nate and I just decided to go with the flow. To relax and enjoy the family that we were with, while we were with them. It was wonderful, and we spread our family time equally. I really had a wonderful Christmas, and could not be more thankful. Nate and my Mom spoiled the heck out of me. (Thanks, again!)

Here I sit on Sunday night, constantly thinking that work starts again tomorrow. I have slept in until 11:00 every day except for Christmas since last Wednesday, and 7:00 a.m. is going to come really early. (Hey, I needed my beauty rest, okay?!)

I'm pretty sure it has been scientifically proven that Christmas brings the blues, and I'm pretty sure that I have them! Positive note - it does seem that time flies even faster these days, and before you know it, it will be Christmas 2009.

I hope everyone had a very Merry Christmas, and I wish you a Happy New Year!!

Marley, who?

Just when I thought that I had no ideas for a new blog – Bailey to the rescue. You’ve all no doubt seen the preview for the movie Marley & Me. It opened Christmas Day and apparently broke records in sales. What many don’t know is that this movie was a book first, a really OLD book. I got a copy for Christmas and can’t wait to read it!

The previews show a family (played by Owen Wilson and Jennifer Aniston) who get their first puppy, a yellow lab. Their lab, Marley, is full of energy and creates quite a few disasters along the way. I find myself daily thinking, “Marley, Who? More like Bailey & Me!”

Take for instance, last Saturday night. It had been a long week at work, I was PMSing, tired, and just needed to relax. So I headed to my garden tub, glass of wine in hand, and settled in for a bubble bath complete with dim lighting and candles. After a few minutes of peace and quiet, Bailey bolts in the door. Something about the end of the day and me being in the bathtub really excites her.

My bathtub is really high, and she can just now reach her paws up and see over the ledge. So I’m thinking that I’m safe, right? Wrong. She ran to the far wall and then dove straight at me and jumped right on in the tub! Quiet relaxing bath officially over. “NATE, NATE get her out!!!” I was laughing so hard I was helpless.

One thing Bailey discovered during this encounter, “hey, I’m a WATER DOG!” She had never been in water tall enough to actually feel like she could maybe swim in it! With every slap down of the paw, water went up, and she tried to eat it. Slap, water up, eat. Slap, water up, eat. Water was absolutely everywhere. On the wall, window, sink, floor, everywhere.

Bottle of wine. $7

Water. Free. (Well sort of)

Candles and Bubble Bath. $10

Having Bailey join you. Priceless.

Random.

Today has been one of those days. I thought that I would be bored at work today. Ha! Not very many secretaries or paralegals are working at all this week, so ALL of the attorneys at the back half of the office are bringing me their things. It ended up being okay, but my carpel tunnel syndrome is flaring up like whoa.

The church lady is "demanding" I pay her - tomorrow - if I don't want the insurance involved. I am so freaking frustrated. I feel like I'm being taken advantage of, but at the same time I really don't WANT to involve the insurance. Ugh. It just makes me so mad every time I think about it. End of story.

Good news though, I finished up with Christmas shopping today! So I can try to enjoy my last day at work for the week, and just relax. I'm looking forward to spending Christmas Eve and Day with my family. Apparently, Santa has been really good to me this year! So that's something to look forward to!

Also, I just wanted to say Congratulations to Nate for getting his first deer of the season last Thursday night!! Bailey and I are so proud of you for putting food on the table :)

I'm big, you're little.

There are people in this world that have this air about them of, “I am holier than thou art.” You know these women. I call them: church ladies. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love church, and I love me some Jesus – but a church is about the best place to find someone who thinks they are better than you.*

These are not holy women. In fact they are the opposite. They love to tell you how you should be living your life, how you should handle your business, and will be the very first to spread a piece of gossip. When in all actuality, their families are dying (not literally, but emotionally), they have more skeletons in their closet than you can imagine, and they aren’t – contrary to what they say – out for the glory of God.

I had the blessed experience of rear-ending this particular type last night. While this woman never ever mentioned God or church or anything like that, her presence was immediately “I’m better than you.” A church lady.

I admit it. It was my fault. I hit her, I was helping Bailey get into my lap and let go of the brakes. Problem is: THE LIGHT WAS GREEN, and had been for a while. Me, assuming that a normal person would GO when the light changed (especially after having sat through this very light three times already) I assumed it was safe to let go of the breaks. Fail.

Her attitude was immediately condescending. See, this precious woman was under the oh-so-wrong assumption that I was 16 years old driving Daddy’s car. She spoke down to me with the “honey’s” and “dear’s,” and rudely told me that my dog “needed to be restrained.” HA. You fit her crate in my car.

She continued with this attitude until I not so politely told her that I was NOT 5 and she could stop acting as such. Her next response was meekly, “why are you being so rude to me?” REALLY?? You just sat in the middle of and f-ing intersection for 5 minutes because “you’re not allowed to leave the scene of an accident.” Last I checked, if no one is hurt you move your vehicle out of the way so people not involved can go about their business.

This hostility continued, and I sure as heck didn’t back down. The paint scratch on her car was this ---------- big. And I’m serious. You would have thought I mangled her child and totaled her car. (There was no child in the car by the way.) She finally asked in her ever-so-condescending tone if I had someone coming to help me. When my response was, “Yes, my husband,” her attitude changed. "Oh she’s not 5, or 10 or even 16. This is an adult I’m dealing with." OOPS.

I completely avoided her from this point on.

You know, people are human. They make mistakes. Shit happens. The woman who rear-ended me 2 months ago was on prescription medicines and didn’t even know where she was, and I was not even openly rude to her.

It is so frustrating to cross paths with these people. No one is better than anyone. Period. We’re all jerks who make mistakes from time to time. Should this woman have been upset with me? Absolutely. I hit her – I would be mad at me too. But, the second someone shows a hint of friendliness and apologizes, I lighten up a bit. So don’t call me your “honey” cause you ain’t my husband and you sure ain’t my Mama!

*Obviously this is an unfair generalization, but it works well for my point! Not all church women are like this, and not all women like this go to church, but I’ve noticed a pattern and I’m just sayin’.

Can I just say...

Sometimes it just sucks to be female. I mean just sucks. I feel like men could not possible imagine, or go through for that matter, some of the things we have to endure on a day to day basis. I can, however, recall on several occasions my husband saying, “that’s why I’m glad I’m a man” after I complain that it feels like someone is literally punching me in the uterus or something of that nature. A few examples of this suck-ness follow:

1. PMS - Not that this needs any explanation, but having violent mood swings with no logical explanation is rather hard to explain to the male species. If I never had PMS, I would never fight with my husband. Ever. That is the only time of the month that everything anyone does has the potential to piss me off royally.

2. Birthing children – Pain, ripping, pain, tearing, pain, oh my gosh I’m gonna throw up. I haven’t even experienced this yet, but it scares the bajeeezus out of me. (This, by the way, is also on my list of the perks of being a woman – it’s something that only women can do and creates a bond between you and that child that only you can share.)

3. The Glass Ceiling. No explanation needed.

4. Having to SIT to use the restroom. While I have no desire to try it standing up with my current anatomy, there are times (concerts, public events, anywhere where a port-a-john is involved) where it would just be easier if you could STAND and handle your business. No touching icky toilet seats, no playing the hover game, just stand and go.

5. The “wifely” duties: While this is not a problem in my house, as Nate helps with all the chores, I’m sure there are women out there who absolutely hate the fact that it is “their” expected responsibility to cook, clean, do the dishes, bathe the kids, help them with their homework etc. etc.

6. Constant sex object: Sometimes being whistled at, or a noticeable look can be flattering and make a woman feel good about herself. But, when this stare lasts a little too long or goes to the wrong places you go from flattered to violated. AND, some men in bar situations feel that it is okay to touch as well. Oh no, no, no, no. That's a really good way to get yourself slapped, men!

Though all of the above are perceived negative, women also have a distinct ability to turn their unique qualities to their advantage. Sex appeal is a plus when trying to get your way, and "hey do this I'm pregnant" can't be all that bad :)

Anything else that drives you crazy, ladies?

A Little Yuletide Fun.

Last night marked our first annual “Ugly Christmas Sweater Party.” I say first annual occurrence because we. had. a. ball. All of the attendants donned the ugliest/tackiest sweater they could find and came for a night of fun and festivities. Here is just a little taste of what when on.

As you can see, there were lights, bells, Santa’s and snowmen. Reindeer, snowflakes, tassels and puffy paint. A Dirty Santa game made for tons of fun with gifts including a copy of the Kama Sutra, thermometer, and lottery tickets.


I would highly recommend this themed party to anyone. Everyone can enjoy this light-hearted fun with Good times, great friends, and ugly sweaters!

Persistent Polly.

My dog is a Persistent Polly. Every morning a precisely 5:45 a.m. she scratches at her crate door to let Nate and I know she’s ready to get in the bed with us for a morning snuggle before a long day of solitude while we’re at work (sad, I know.) Feeling so bad for her, we (well mainly Nate) oblige and always get up and put her back in bed with us. She sniffs, scratches, wiggles and squirms and then finally finds a way to get as close as physically possible to one of us. This often involves her curling up to my back and laying her head across my neck. I love her at 5:45.

Evidently I am a light sleeper in the morning. Just about the time I get good and asleep again, my alarm clock goes off at 7:00 a.m. Grrreat. I am a snoozer. Always have been, and likely always will be. Pre-Bailey I swear those were the best seven minutes of sleep I got. Snoozing is no longer fun.

With the first ring of my alarm clock, dog is UP and moving. It is time to eat, NOW. I try and try to get her to lie back down for just five more minutes. Beg and plead that she stop pawing at my face for just a minute, but she doesn’t get it. She walks up and down our bodies, paws at us, growls, and will even stand on my head if necessary. Twenty pounds, and evergrowing - this is not comfortable.

But, I am stubborn, so I stick it out and get my extra snooze minutes and then wearily drag myself out of bed and get Bailey’s day going. And dog is happy.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we really wanted something, say a raise, if we could just walk up and down our bosses back and growl at them until they gave us what we wanted? It’s a dogs life.

Going Home.

Last Thursday morning my Grandmama went home to be with God. There is no better way of putting it than just that. While of course my family is sad and in mourning, my Grandmama lived a life of example. A long, healthy life that is to be celebrated.

At 91 years old, she left an impact on so many others that will not be forgotten. I came to know and love her most when she moved in with my family a few years ago after suffering a stroke. While she was completely self-sufficient, she still needed to be around someone that cared about her and could be there should she need it. That involved her leaving her home town of Valley, Alabama and moving up to North Carolina to be with us.

There was no question from the beginning where her heart was. It was in Valley, with her late husband. While my great-grandfather had passed back in ’76, he was her one and only true love. She spoke of him daily, and wanted nothing more than to be reunited with him again in Heaven. In 2006, she made the move back to Alabama to live out her last years. It’s where she wanted to be, and she was well taken care of.

I had not been to Alabama in about ten years, so this weekend was a blast from the past. My Daddy took us around to the old home place, where his family grew up, their schools, Grandmama’s house, everywhere. It is the epitome of a small southern town. A mill town on the Chattahoochee River that is a little behind on the times, but the kind that you just fall in love with the minute you get there. It still has that southern hospitality that is not easily found.

While not many people attended her funeral (she has literally out-lived everyone) there was no question that the town respected her, whether they knew her or not. On the drive from the funeral home to her final resting place beside her loving husband, every single car that we passed stopped. I don’t mean just slowed down a little, or waited until the police car went by. I mean stopped. People walking or running on the streets, stopped, and watched repectfully as the caravan of cars made their way to the cemetery. It is a sight that I will never forget. I am very appreciative that people still have that kind of love and hospitality for their neighbor.

Grandmama is finally home. With her husband, and with God. She loved and feared the Lord, knew her Bible, and lived a good life. While she is gone from this life, my faith lets me know that one day I too will be with her, and that is all the comfort I need.

So Grandmama, we love you and will think of you daily. Go Rest in Paradise. :)

A Healthy Portion.

I am not exactly what you would call the “healthiest eater,” but am by no means the worst eater either. I rarely eat chocolate, I don’t like cake or candy, and I don’t indulge in random foods that aren’t good for me. But friends let me tell you – all those rumors about gaining weight when you get married, are true!!

So true. I blame it mostly on the fact that I’m very happy, and rarely (thankfully) have anxiety anymore. (When I have anxiety it’s hard for me to eat a lot.) But, I assessed what could have possibly caused this weight gain that might be my fault, other than the “freshman fifteen of marriage.” Watch me eat ONE time, and I think you might figure it out.

First of all, I eat ENTIRELY too fast. We’re talking five minutes and I’m D-U-N. At our work Thanksgiving potluck I cleared my plate before most of them had even got started on their turkey. It was pointed out for all to see. Next, I eat like a horse. Since I married Nate, I eat like Nate who is 8 inches taller than me and rightfully weighs more. For some reason my mind thinks that it’s cool for me to go back for seconds and thirds just ‘cuz, and because I eat so fast my body doesn’t register that I’m full! Lord help me.

So I shared my assessment with Nate, and explained to him how, “Well you know your main dish is only supposed to be the size of your fist.” He died laughing, and said that he had never, ever heard that. I mean am I crazy? I know that that’s true! So I have made it my goal to SLOW the heck down when I’m eating, and perhaps maybe I won’t overeat!!

I hope those of you who know me understand my lightheartedness in this. I am NOT trying to lose weight, or say that I’m fat by any means. I’ve just noticed something that could potential cause problems in the future, and that is unhealthy. After all, I’m pretty dang small, and there is no reason I should be chowin’ down on a Shaquille O’Neal fist-sized steak!

Give Thanks

Another work week has begun! The Thanksgiving festivities are over, I’ve eaten WAY too much, and the Christmas decorations are going up!

This Thanksgiving was one of my favorites in recent memory. My husband and I happily floated to three different households visiting with our families. Both of us were able to resist the temptation to eat three Thanksgiving meals, and only divulged in two. (This is a step up from last year where I consumed four.)

I also took part in the Black Friday shopping this year! I had such a great time with my sister and her boyfriend beating the crowds and getting great deals on some Christmas shopping. ($3 for popular DVDs, people. Three dollars.) I have completely finished shopping for Nate, and knocked a huge dent in my list for everyone else.

Last night before we fell asleep Nate pointed out that we had not even taken the time to be thankful on Thanksgiving. We were so busy having a great time we forgot to just sit back and say, “Hey thanks, God!” So we took turns saying things that we are thankful for. Among the things I am thankful for are: our families, our friends, my Mom, Bailey & Maggie, an awesome God, our health, our family’s health, our jobs, a loving husband, and a beautiful house.

This time of year can truly be wonderful if you just let it! Sit back and give thanks for all that you have!

So tell me, what are you thankful for?