The Incidents Where Holiday Activities Take A LOOOOONG Time!

A lot of people do top 10 lists this time of year. Or top whatever lists. None of you want my list of top 10 events that happened in my family's life this year. Jazzercise, credentials, potty training--none of you give a shit about that crap!

So, here is my list of things around the holidays that take a LOT longer when you have 3 year old.


1. Wrapping gifts.
Here's hoping our family members love wrinkly paper and lots of tape.





2. Making cookies.
This took a lot longer for a few reasons. #1 I have to find a decent vegan sugar cookie recipe that would be safe for my allergy-ridden kiddo. #2 The allergy-ridden kiddo insisted on rolling the dough himself. REALLY? Like 8 hours later, we finished. And now have a box of vegan sugar cookies with finger prints in the middle of the frosting. Pretty sure I won't have to fight anyone for these treats.


3. Shopping.
Which is why I finished mine Monday night at 10 pm. Thank god for stores open after bedtime. And I was most certainly NOT the only one with that bright idea. There were lines that late. Made of mostly mothers who were delighted to be kid-free. Which explains why everyone was actually in really great moods.

4. Cleaning up glass.
I've been saying our house is so messy, it looked like something exploded in it. This week, a glass pan literally exploded all over my kitchen while I was making quesadillas. Trying to keep the kid and the dog out of the kitchen while picking glass out of my garbage disposal, all while envisioning some horror movie scene where the evil ghost in the house turns on the disposal thus grinding my hand into hamburger meat, was super fun. Oh, and said glass also melted my kitchen rug. Awesomeness. But at least now I have an excuse for the mess.

5. Sleeping.
He's been crawling into bed with me before 6 am every morning. Grrrr. I'm a teacher and officially on 'vacation' (I use the term lightly. I went to work yesterday. And have taught 6 Jazzercise classes in 4 days. And have worked my butt off getting ready for Christmas. Not exactly a relaxing vacation. But still, sleeping til 7 would be nice).

6. Reading holiday stories.
If I have to explain who baby Jesus is again mid-read, I'm gonna cry.

7. Finding a pet mouse.
After reading a Christmas story that had a mouse in it, he now has an invisible pet mouse. Let me tell you, that sucker is hard to find. He hides in pockets, on the front seat of my car, in bowls of oatmeal. And only the kid can find it. The mouse eats nothing, doesn't poop, and smells great. Best pet ever.


8. Opening Christmas cards.
He insists on opening them. And then we have to name everybody in every single picture. We had a dry day earlier this week and tried to trick him with a bill. No luck. Bills don't have pictures.

9. Drinking hot chocolate.
I was so excited to make him allergy-safe hot chocolate to drink while we watched Charlie Brown Christmas. But the word "hot" freaked him out. By the end of the movie, it was cold enough for him to try.

10. Typing a top 10 list for my blog.
He's cuddled in my lap as I type. With his bear and his blanket. Which smell terrible.

I guess there is something to be said for taking time to enjoy the special moments around the holidays. Right?

Hope your holidays are slow and merry!

The How Dumb AM I? Incident

How dumb am I, you wonder? Wonder no more. The answer: REALLY fucking dumb!!!

Ok, so in recent weeks, there have been little notes on the copy machines at work. From our principal. With the breakdown of how many copies we, as an entire staff, have made this year and how much money that is. It's a lot. Like over 10K, a lot.

There have also been retaliatory, anonymous notes from teachers saying things like "450 assessments for 5th grade each week=solid API score. Priceless".

Yup, staff full of smart-asses.


And no, none of the notes were from me. Swear.



Anyways, so despite these notes which sent a very clear message about our heavy copy-use, I made some VERY illegal copies. Our family Christmas letter. 70 of them. Now, I was smart about it. I did it when I was leaving for the day and most people were gone, so no one saw me do it.

Ok, wait, I was only relatively smart about it.

No, wait, I was totally dumb about it.




I get home that night, go to take them out of my bag, and realize they are not there. And realize shortly after that they were still in the copier tray at work.

Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!

"Yesssssssss", giggled Fate. Bitch.

Ok, so I worried about it much of the night, and actually busted my butt to leave early the next morning in hopes to get to work a little early and whisk them away from the copier before someone else saw them.

"Mwahahahah!" laughed Fate.

Yeah, didn't happen. I got to work and they were sitting in my box. I have NO idea who put them there, and did not get any smart-ass emails that day about it, so whoever it was, was just being nice. And apparently did not have a sense of humor about it.

Fairly certain it wasn't one of the bosses though. Cuz I'm still employed and my copy code still works.

Thank you, copy gods. I promise to repay you by not copying my ass any more.

Oh wait, was that my out loud typing? Kidding, I would never copy my butt. And if I did, I certainly would NOT leave it in the copier tray! Well, you know, not purposely anyways.

The Incident Where I Find Things Amusing

Things I have found amusing as of late:

The word jeggings. Jeans + leggings = jeggings = random fashion trend. Sounds like some sort of jello flavor to me.

My child telling me that cows are real. While pretending to put on make up with a carrot.

My child answering the question "What do you want for Christmas?" with "presents". Can we say SCORE?!?! He should be quite easy to please this year!


My husband telling me I'm obsessed with fudge. Ok, so I did make 2 kinds of fudge for the fudge contest at work. But it's not like I made fudge all summer to practice or anything. Obsessed? Hardly. Just passionate about winning.

The candy canes I crushed with a mallet (for said fudge-contest fudge) that are currently coating my counter, hair, and bathroom. I smell minty fresh. But am also sticky.

Getting a work email from a father who basically said his ex-wife (who is driving me CRAZY) is full of crap. Hilarious. It made me want to run a victory lap around my desk!

23489734987 questions about what my 3rd graders should wear to our big musical performance of A Sombrero For Santa. The teachers all said wear a red shirt. Who would have thought every 3rd grader would have a question about that? "What if your little brother spills a vat of tar on your shirt as you are going to school. What should you wear THEN?". Ok, maybe I'm slightly exaggerating. Slightly. My favorite actual question: "Can your red shirt be green?" Boom boom boom! That sound you hear is the beating of my head against a wall.

My schedule this week. At school, on top of teaching, I'm running 4 rehearsals, 3 assemblies, co-running a 4th assembly, and planning a pajama breakfast/craft day. None of that is amusing. However, knowing I need to finish shopping, wrapping, and mailing gifts while doing all that and teaching several Jazzercise classes is fucking hysterical.

Better go sample that fudge to see if it's contest-worthy. Another thing that tickles my funny bone? I'm on a diet. And made 2 types of fudge.

The Incident of Teamwork

My cat and child have formed a team. Typically, I find teamwork admirable. They could team up to fight crime (to the Cat Mobile!) or locate items they've lost in the house (I know that water bottle straw has to be around here somewhere). Or even clean up after themselves ("OK, I'll scoop the shit out of the litter box, you hold the back"). And I would greatly admire any of those goals. But no.

They've teamed up to ensure I never sleep past 6:30 on a weekend again.

Awesomeness.

The cat plays her part by walking laps up and down my body until she finds the warmest spot, the cuddles there, purring loudly, while kneeding her paws (complete with razor-sharp needles) against my thigh, tummy, or boob (like my boobs need puncture wounds).

The kid quietly pads into our room and stands next to me breathing heavily until I pull back the covers so he can climb in. Then he 'rests quietly' while kicking me and rolling around.

The cat, realizing she's found someone with some life in him, stands on my shoulder so the kid can pet her. He pets her until she tires of it and bites him, thus causing him to hit her, thus causing her to wander back down my body to sulk for approximately 12.6 seconds before coming back for another round.

It's a beautifully orchestrated ballet, one that has happened 3 weekend mornings in a row now.

Ahhh teamwork. I'm so proud.

The Incident Where I Didn't Forget About My Blog (swear!)

Hello Blog. Nice to see you again. I have not forgotten about you. Pinkie swear.

But since becoming an officially certified Jazzercise instructor, I've spent 2 weeks learning about 20 new routines. My brain has been mushtified (yes, it's a word). And we have video-proof that our son can do many of those routines almost perfectly. Like, scary perfectly.

And in there, I also celebrated 2 Thanksgivings (and decided the reason Thanksgiving and Christmas are far apart is because we need at least 4 weeks in between large family events in order to not kill each other), drove up and down half of California (mapquest it--it's a big state), and spent some quality time with 3rd graders. My kid got his first black eye (ran into a box at day care--clearly he is the epitomy of grace), my husband curbed his car and popped two tires (yup, that was pretty much the nail in our Christmas coffin), and I started a diet (hello, how dumb am I? Dieting THIS time of year? Good lord, I'm a freakin' idiot).

Oh, and did you know that Christmas is coming? If you were not aware, walk into ANY elementary school classroom. The teacher will have a glazed look in her eyes and her hair will be thinner than the day before. There will be at least one student wearing a Santa hat. And another wearing reindeer antlers. And another wearing a tank-top and flip-flops despite the fact that it's 36 degrees outside. And it will be very loud.

And you will hear conversations like this:
"What happens if Santa dies?"
"Then there's another one."
"What happens if HE dies?"
"Oh, your parents will still buy you presents, don't worry."

3rd graders seriously crack my shit up.

I should mention these same third graders will soon be involved in a FABULOUS musical titled....wait for it....A Sombrero For Santa.

Cuz nothing says Christmas like Santa taking a trip to Mexico. I'm assuming it's because there's cheap drugs there, but haven't read the script that closly.

Seriously, how do I get roped into this shit?


Anyways, blog, I have not forgotten your existence. And hope to get reacquainted soon.


Quit laughing, Fate. I KNOW I'm busy, but really, do you have to be such a bitch about it????