A New Year….Or I went to the White House with Whore Hair so you don’t have too.

The thing about me is that I can never leave well enough alone. So if one is good, then I need two. Two is great but four would be better! And so on and so on and so on. Thus it was with my blondish hair. Oh! It was so lovely…but wouldn’t blonderish be even better? And the next thing you know, I had whore hair. Cheap, bright yellow and orange whore hair.

Actual picture of me:

Okay not really, but when Boss found this old doll of Auntie Keek’s he declared Mommy! You two are the same! you have the SAME hair. Must remember to thank his teacher for really driving home the same/different lesson. Not only was my hair neon orange yellow but it was also the consistency of straw. Glorious, tough straw.

The only thing worse than going in wanting to be blonderish and coming out looking as if Smurfette were turning tricks on the corner to score Meth is if you go in wanting to be blonderish and come out looking as if Smurfette were turning tricks on the corner to score Meth and having to go to the White House that very same night.

Oh yeah.

There was nothing to be done but cancel. Except, you don’t just not show up to the White House, am I right? I mean it’s not like Michelle was meeting me for dinner, but we were invited to tour the East Wing and see the Christmas decorations which are amazing! Zach talked me into it and after my mother in law dried my tears and handed me a diet coke we were on our way.

There was no sugar coating it. Zach tried and I told him not even to mention it or I would cry again. My mother in law tried to convince me it wasn’t that bad. (it was) and my sister in law said nothing. She just pretended my hair wasn’t neon yellow. And that? Was how bad it looked. Kel is my style twin and if she can’t even come up with a kind word…well, we know for sure it was, as they used to say, shiteous.

And it was. And no, I didn’t let anyone take pictures of me, trust me it was for the best.

 

I tried to hold my yellow head up high as our friends were polite enough to only widen their eyes in shock and disbelief for a mere second or two before they recovered and we chatted about anything other that the straw mop top I was sporting to the FREAKING WHITE HOUSE. The decorations this year were more subdued than last year but it was still exquisite. My two favorite decorations are in the State Room which features both the mini White House and the Creche which is beyond exquisite. Sadly none of my pictures of the Nativity turned out. This is what happens when you have an 18 month old grabbing your camera and a 4 year old missing in the East Wing. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that we blinked and Boss was GONE?? Thankfully he found his grandmother and honestly we weren’t too worried. Security was everywhere, still we were half panicked and half joking that he just wanted to see Bo.

My husband has petted Bo. It’s the single thing I am the most jealous of in any of his White House visits.

Luckily for me, nary a Secret Service agent inquired as to why a ghetto orange blond chick like me was invited to the White House. Manners? They’re used to it? I don’t know. I will say that not even in junior high was I as self conscious as I was at the White House. UGH! Two days later after some very intense conditioning my hair was lovingly colored dark ash blond and I was able to rejoin the ranks of the non whoreish haired.

I’ve never been so grateful for chemistry.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday!! This year feels like its going to be a good one, don’t you agree?

ivillage asked Boss what his resolutions for me would be…and he came up with some doozies! (It should be noted that though you can see my hair here it looked WAY worse in real life. WAY WORSE!)

And yeah…mine are…out of reach? pathetic? You decide.

did you make any resolutions?

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The Boss’s Views on Santa…

Boss on seeing Santa at the mall. Again.
MAN! Santa is always at the mall!”

 

Then a moment later “Well, I guess he does have a lot of shopping to do!”

Too true, little man, too true.

Merry Christmas From our home to yours.

I am holding my babies closer this season, thinking of those who have lost their little ones this year. Treasuring my already treasured small people even more.  I’ve never been so thankful for being woken in the middle of the night by a teething Huckleberry or the luxury of not being able to get a real smile from Boss once the camera is pointed in his general direction. I’m drinking in every precious second with my sweet boys like its the most delicious hot cocoa with Baileys and real whip. Speaking of, it’s time to wrap and assemble some more presents and make some of the aforementioned hot cocoa…someone may have ordered a cool wooden garage toys for a certain Hucklberry not realizing it was over 2 ft. tall.

And as I write it it’s just begun to snow…perfect. Hot cocoa for everyone!

More proof I need to get off my lazy butt.

Earlier today, just as I was contemplating how I needed to blog and how on earth a week could have passed so quickly…when I got a text message from a certain girlfriend, who shall remain nameless. It said simply: I pinned something for you.

And pin she did.

Chin exercises. As in; got a saggy chin? Tighten it up with these exercises! Now, I can’t say I was offended by such a pin. She and I had just been discussing how the skin under our neck was, shall we say, a little less tight than it was earlier in life? If I am being honest,  I’ve never had a strong jaw line and learned early in theatre make up to give myself a bit of help. This never bothered me too much, but as is the case with the lines on my forehead that have been there since high school; suddenly they bug me a lot. Truvvy said “Time marches on and eventually you realize it’s walking all over your face.” Time? Suddenly is a freaking marching band on my face.

So anyway, you know I re-pinned that good old chin excercise guide and gave it a shot. 20 seconds of leaning your head back and jutting your chin to the ceiling, how hard could it be? Oh tip your head all the way back and make exaggerated kissy faces at the sky? If it tightens my ‘waddle’ you got it, pinterest! Guess what? After the end of the three minutes of intensive chin cardio, I was winded.

As in OUT OF BREATH.

Clearly, I need to exercise more. And I am contemplating just such a new commitment right now as I blog and drink a mocha. Cause that’s how I roll.

In other news, Thanksgiving rocked in Ohio with the cousins and they even let me drag them out for a little photo shoot. You will now be forced to look at said pictures of said little cousins. Enjoy.

(perhaps you’re wondering “where is Huckleberry??” Well, he was sick so we kept him at home. I knew it was the right thing, but I felt SO guilty anyway. Especially when we all got hot cocoa. Mine had Bailey’s in it. Boss’ did not.)

What did you do for thanksgiving? Was it glorious? I adore Thanksgiving because it has always been a great holiday for me. From Orphan Thanksgivings in LA to being a part of my husband’s huge extended family celebration, I adore it. And every year it gets better…more kids playing, more family members added. I am, as always, thankful on Thanksgving.

And now for something completely different…

Or not.
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Our Memorial Day weekend was (almost) everything you would ever want it to be. It can never be everything I want because I wish we didn’t have to have a memorial day. The weekend was spent with yard sales, furniture refinishing, painting, photography and playing, playing, playing with the boys. Never forgetting and always explaining WHY we celebrate with such quintessential American joys on what is such an important holiday.

I think Boss understands…sort of. He doesn’t understand why HE can share his toys and say he is sorry and yet adults sometimes cannot. I only explain little bits at a time. I loathe the day I have to explain 9/11. I still cannot find words.

We decided to head to the Capitol for the Memorial Day Concert and it was glorious, patriotic, awe inspiring and rip-your-heart-out sad. I must say the sight of my three (almost four) year old Boss with his hand over his heart trying to sing the National Anthem made my heart nearly burst.
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There seems to be a misnomer in this country that you can’t be a liberal and a patriot at the same time and that is poppycock, just so ya know.

The concert was amazing. All 40 minutes of it before we were evacuated. Yup. It was so surreal as one they took to the stage and asked us to evacuate in an orderly manner due to extreme storms. There is a moment of disbelief when your ears hear it but your brain won’t process, especially because the weather at that point was perfect. The Capitol Police were fantastic and everyone, although grumbly, moved along peaceably and at one point I was separated from Zach and Boss and people cleared a way for me to get to them. DC people may be the rudest drivers this side of Boston but get them out of the car and manners are not dead.

By the time we got the babies in the car we were trapped in a crazy heavy rain with wind that would knock me right over! There was nothing to be done but make our way home and listen to Parliament on the radio.

Naturally.

But what sticks with me about the concert is this- straight out of the camera:
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I see the moon and the moon sees me. I think of Susan.

For now I am full stop in the swing of Huckleberry’s FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY. And can someone tell me how this is possible? He. Was. Just. Born.
Am I right???

 

p.s. operation Learn To Use My Camera is going pretty well!

In which my mother in law is groovier than me.

This past Saturday we gathered, friends and family, for my mother in law’s Seder. I love her Seders. First of all, who doesn’t love a religious ceremony where you lean to the left and drink? I mean, really. But mostly I love it because as we drink more and more wine we get sillier and sillier, and bless my mother in law’s heart, she laughs along with us. All the while I am cracking jokes and laughing till my eyes water, I am thinking how much groovier than me she is, because if this was my Easter dinner I would be freaking out at the giggling. I’d be Jesus died you guys! But she’s like whahoo! we got out of Egypt AND we remembered to bring the coffee! YAY!
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{seriously yay. thanks for the coffee}

But she laughs hardest of all. Which is good because her son did a mighty fine rap of one part of the ceremony and we added several plagues to the ones that were unleashed upon the Egyptians such as Keeping Up With The Kardashians, Dance Moms, and Rick Santorum.

But the highlight of the night was, unsurprisingly, The Boss. Sitting at the dinner table he suddenly slammed a fist on the table.

“dammit!” slam again. “DAMMIT!” cried he.

“oh no, that is not a word we use” said I “especially not at the dinner table”

He paused, looking at all of us, moving only his eyes. Waited a good three seconds then:

“Awk-ward.”

Timing. The kid has it.

I wondered and wondered where he got that from. It was so specific. Slam. Dammit. SLAM. DAMMIT. And then after dinner my husband showed my SIL the funniest news bloopers, and there it was. Some apparently really famous ex-football player who is not Howie Long but I can’t remember anyone’s name other than Howie Long on some sports show. Slam! Dammit! SLAM!  DAMMIT!

I guess we are just lucky Boss didn’t say “keep f***ing that chicken.”