Can't Wait for Christmas

I know I've been lame (okay, lame-er) on the blogging lately. My apologies. Christmas is a busy time. Normally during December I have an off month but this year I am making a genuine effort to be ready for a marathon in mid January.

Last week I got my mileage back up to over 50 mpw and I got in a 21 miler for the long run. Everything felt good (it has been 3 weeks since my marathon) but by the end of the week my legs were dead. I took yesterday off and cleaned out my house. My plan was to do my long run today (either 21 miles again or 23.5 miles) but the high today is barely in the 30's and currently it isn't even 19 degrees. Seeing how my lungs react to the sub freezing temps-- and I'd like to not be sick this Christmas (was last year)-- I think I will do my long run tomorrow when the low/high is 45/57.

Call me whatever you want but I don't see the point in torturing myself if I don't have to.
Right, right, right.
It could be really cold race day. . .

The way I see it is that it won't make a difference if I get sick and can't train and run on race day. Better to get to the start line healthy. I'll worry about how cold it is when I absolutely have to.

So, like I said. I've been busy; shopping, wrapping up gifts, decorating, cleaning etc. As the kids get older Christmas is becoming more and more fun and we've been busy with family activities, shenanigans and parties. This year we had some visitors from the North Pole: Walt and Rosie.

These are two very mischievous elves that Santa sent to the kids. Oh boy have these two made quite a ruckus at our house: tp'ing, leaving gifts and little notes, rearranging the furniture, making forts with all the cushions, un-decorating the Christmas tree and just this morning I woke up to q-tips and cotton balls over the house. Walt and Rosie had even gotten into those furry red handcuffs that Pop gave me and Ryan. I KNOW!!!! Don't you just want to know why my Dad gave me such a thing? Yeah, I'll get to that. . .

So, yes, I have been greatly entertained by the kids this year. Particularly Beau and his inability to wait for Christmas. Apparently he either doesn't like surprises or doesn't understand at all what is meant by "surprise."

It is funny but my sister Pookie is the exact same way. When we were little she use to not only unwrap all her presents under the tree (and then wrap them back up) she would also unwrap everyone else's. It killed her to not only NOT know what she was getting for Christmas but to also NOT know what everyone else was getting.

Me?

I'm okay with surprises. I even like them. In fact, I've been DYING for about all my life for someone to throw me a surprise party already.

Okay, in case they are reading, I did have some friends in high school who threw me a surprise party once but they ended up telling me about it beforehand because-- as they said-- they were worried I would "make other plans and not come to the party." But these days my social calendar is a lot emptier so feel free to throw me a party and rest assured I will be there because I will have nothing else to do.

But my sister? She must hate surprises. She would say stuff like "Do you want to know what Aunt Harriet got you?"

And I would say, "No. I can wait until Christmas."

And she would say,"It is perfume. And Mom got you a leather skirt--a black one, and Kathy got you a gift medallion from Turtles-- 10 dollars worth. What tape are you going to buy with it?"

It got so bad that Lala just let Pookie help pick out all the gifts she bought and then paid her fifty cents a gift to wrap and I guess, bribe her to keep the gifts a secret. And it wasn't just Christmas--birthdays too-- and she was this way ever since she could talk. We couldn't tell her any secrets. She can't keep them. And for that matter, Lala, can't keep a secret either.

Oops, starting to digress. Let's bring this back around.

So I have discovered that Beau is like Pookie. I can't help but wonder if is genetic or just a youngest child thing. Can anyone else weigh in? Youngest child versus not being able to wait for Christmas without peeking. . .

My first indication of Beau's inability to contain a surprise was about a week and a half ago. He told me that he had made me a present at school and couldn't tell me what it was and I would have to wait until Christmas. And in the same breath he said: "It is an ornament. For the Christmas tree."

And I said: "Beau, you aren't suppose to tell me what it is. You are suppose to keep it a secret so it will be a surprise Christmas morning."

And Beau rolled his eyes at me and said: "I didn't tell you what kind of ornament it is." And with that off to school he went.

Fast forward to that afternoon when he comes home with said present:

"Open it," he demanded, thrusting the present in my hand.

I start to protest, saying I should wait until Christmas morning. . .

"It is an ornament, " he tells me yet again as he helps me pull paper off and before the unwrapping is done he says excitedly, "It is a snow man!!! With a sled!!!!"

The next day Beau comes home with another gift. This one he gives to Carmella and thrusts it in her hand and says "Open it now. It is a star. I sewed it."

Carmella was quite gracious and complimented him and told him she made the same star when she was in kindergarten too but that his is much nicer.

Another day goes by and the kids decide they need to buy some gifts. They clean out their piggy banks for what little is left. I think I have mentioned this before but if not, you should know my kids keep the school store in business.

The school, in addition to the school store, puts on a "Holiday Store" so the kids can go and buy little gifts for friends and family. Total racket, but a trip to the school store motivates the heck out of my kids and gets them ready for school way ahead of schedule.

When I picked the kids up from school that day they are waiting in the carpool line with their arms laden with gifts. We drive home and their excited chatter was indecipherable. We arrive home and I help them pile out of the car. Carmella tells me she has gifts for me, Daddy, Lola, Beau and her friend Ashton. Beau tells me he has gifts for Daddy and for himself.

I instruct them to go put their gifts under the tree. Carmella complies and goes off to do her homework. Beau puts his gifts under the tree too. But then, after a moment, he comes back and gets the one he bought for himself. I feel compelled to add that my sister also shops for herself at the holiday. In fact I think she spends more on herself than she spends total on everyone else. Seriously, is this a "baby of the family" trait or what?

"I'm just going to open this one right now," Beau tells me. "I already know what it is," he further explains.

I try to dissuade him but he already has it opened. Then he abandons "the gift"--a pad of paper and fancy pencil--on the couch and goes outside to play. He returns a few minutes later and asks if he can open the present Carmella got him.

"No," I tell him.

What about the one he got for Daddy, he wants to know.

Confused I ask, "but don't you already know what you got him?"

"Yes," he says, but he wants to open it anyway. Then he starts asking me where the gifts are that I got for him.

I tell him, "I'm not putting them under the tree until Christmas Eve."

"Why," he wants to know.

"Because you will unwrap them," I tell him.

"No . . . " he says smiling, knowing that I know he is lying.

He even tried to unwrap a gift for him at Lala's. She caught him and he told her that he was "just removing the bow" so he could "get it open faster on Christmas."

Yeah, right.

So everyday Beau asks me where his gifts are, what they are and can he have it right now? The suspense of Christmas is killing him slowly from the inside out. He can't stand it. He even told Ryan what I got for him--as if that would give him some sort of fix. And he only knows what I got Ryan because the UPS man gave Beau the package when he playing outside the other day and he opened it before I could get it away from him.

And Ryan upon learning of said gift-- I guess because he is the baby of his family-- asked if he could have his boots before Christmas too.

I tried to play dumb: "What boots?"

"Beau," he said, "told me you bought me boots. Let me have them for my hunting trip with Dusty."
Sigh. Darn UPS man for giving Beau the package. Note to UPS: Do not let children accept packages!

"There are no boots," I tell him. "They were the wrong kind. I returned them. You, like Beau, are getting potatoes and switches and coal for Christmas. Maybe Dusty will keep your feet warm on y'all's broke back rendezvous."

So Saturday, Ryan and I dropped the kids at Pop and Lala's to attend the annual Loser Christmas Party. My Dad, barely able to look me in the eye and at the time I think it is because I am wearing my Vixen costume, thrusts a gift in my hand.

He tells me that it is for me and Ryan and to not open it until I get to Dee Dee's. He says, "If you don't like it give it to Pookie."

Ryan is in disbelief that I ride in the car, not tearing into the gift, not even peeking. I repeat to him that Pop said not to open it until I get to Dee Dee's.

See, it is a youngest in the family thing and while we are in the midst of discussing my theory my sister happens to call. Of course I can't resist telling her that Dad got me a present but that I am to give it to her if I don't want it. And of course she is pissed that I got a present and she didn't.

"What is it?" She wants to know.

And I tell her she'll just have to wait until she gets to Dee Dee's.

Changing the subject I ask her if she is wearing a costume. She says she is but that I'll just have to wait until I get to Dee Dee's to find out what it is.

Whatever I can wait.

So we get Dee Dee's and finally my sister gets there and we open it.

That's right. My Dad got me The Naughty, Naughty Christmas Kit.

I know! I'm a little scared of my red lipstick too. Scary clown face! I never wear red lipstick. Clearly with good reason but I did giggle at myself everytime I looked in the mirror.

So then we called my Dad for an explanation about the gift.

He said he figured anyone who wore such naughty costumes for Christmas must need a naughty present. And he added that it was the only present I was getting since certainly I was on Santa's naughty list.

What!? You mean I'm not getting a frying pan or ham? Darn!

Hey Pop! Beau would like you to know that he loves ham. In fact, he hugged a ham today at Trader's Joes and begged me to buy it for him. You should give him a ham. He'll appreciate it. Really. He nearly a 1/2 lb of ham today by himself.

Okay. Just to summarize:

Beau? Doesn't understand surprises.
Ryan? Loves me so much he'll wear a goofy ass costume.
My dad? He gives the gift of ham. It is his thing.
Me? I wear costumes and am clearly my parent's favorite.
My sister? She unwraps her presents before Christmas.

And yes, of course. Like any good big sister would do I took those red fuzzy hand cuffs and hand cuffed myself to Pookie.

I hope everyone has a fun and happy holiday this year and doesn't take themselves too seriously.

I know, I know Jesus is the reason for the season. . .

But I know that if it was my birthday that I would hope everyone would celebrate by having some fun and enjoying themselves.

BeauPOOLooza V Pictures

So we had our annual BeauPOOLooza party to celebrate Beau's birthday. And this year, like always, was a blast and another great party is in the books.

But missing were two key elements that have halmarked past BeauPOOLooza's. First was, since he is 5 and all and might actually start remembering how everyone behaves at his birthday party we did without the keg this year. More notably missing were the keg stands. After all, we do have to start setting some kind an example. Not to mention that Beau is starting to speak much clearer and his teachers will probably understand him when he tells them about what he did at his birthday party. Oh, but no worries. We still had beer. It is an end of the summer pool party.

Also, missing for the first year ever, was rain. In fact, I think this is the first time I threw an outside party and it didn't rain. I kept waiting for the dark clouds and monsoon like rain but it didn't happen. I mean in the past, me throwing a party was a sure fire way to help the drought. My power must be weakening.


So aside from keg stands and rain everything else was in keeping with the BeauPOOLooza tradition: games, pool, good times.

The cake:


The "I survived BeauPOOLooza V" t-shirts:


I have to admit my proudest moment of the day was when I asked Beau why he wasn't wearing the bathing suit I laid out for him (It was Hawian themed). He pointed out that the one he was wearing had sharks on it and , it matched his party. See? That is why having a theme is so important Pookie. It gives you structure. And kids? They need structure. And I can tell. He will be able to write one heck of research paper (or blog post), you know, as soon as he learns to write because Beau? Beau already gets the importance of theme. How many 5 year olds can say that?

Beau with the drawing "tall" Anthony (Beau likes to inappropriately describe people with their physical attributes before their name. Just so there is no confusion.) did on his back.

The Dolphins vs. The sharks relay races:





The "Sea Horses on Land" relay races:
You had to make horse sounds and gallop, or risk disqualification. Also note that the games we play are completely dictated but what kind of stock they have at the Dollar Store. I got lucky this year that they actually had dolphin and shark floats. I kinda had to use a little creativity for the horse heads Beau insisted on getting.



Sea Horses on land became well, sea horses.

They also worked well as oars for Beau's boat.

Carmella and Reina give Livi "tatoos"

Beau and short Patric (once known as Baby Pat)

The adults.







Blowing out the candles


Well, this party pretty much always marks the end of summer. And I'm okay with that. Beau and Carmella go to the meet and greet tomorrow and Monday, oh blessed Monday, school begins.

Gettin Wild

So tonight is my pal Dee Dee's 40th birthday bash.

Another loser goes over the hill.

But really Dee Dee, excuse me, De Lo, is probably the youngest of us all. Even Meme, who really is the youngest of us all. Yes, I mean acting. Oh yeah, and she looks good too.

Wait, here's a picture. It is from my sister's wedding. Uhm, I mean the event wherein every mother, sister, son, daughter, bride, groom, aunt, uncle, brother, friend was shit faced. De Lo on the left, Ryan (aka, "Moves on Moves") in the middle and Meme on the right.

The fact that Dee Dee is turning 40 is confusing me about my own age. While running the other day I was like: Wow, I am 37. Holy crap, I'm gonna be 40 soon. Then I was like, wait a minute. I think I'm 36. I had to do some math. And yup, I'm 36. Whew, 3 1/2 years is a lot more time than just 3 years to 40. Oh and the guy at the bike shop yesterday was very helpful and the very reason I keep going back to Roswell Bikes. He thought I was 25. Had me show him my ID. I told him I was definitely buying a bike so ass kissing wasn't necessary. Not necessary, but still, a very nice customer service touch. Of course, this was all after he didn't remember me until I reminded him that I was in last week after a run (sans make up and coiffed hair) to get my bike fixed--which he fixed and didn't charge me for. So see, even not looking cute you still get bang up service from them.

Oh, and I know you are going to ask.No, I didn't buy a bike for me. I wish. Santa is bringing Carmella a new bike.

Anyway, back to Dee Dee. Isn't it funny how I somehow, no matter the subject, can always swing it around to being about me? Funny how I am that self absorbed.

So anyway, my friend Kim sent me this youtube video this morning. I think it is very telling of what my evening is going to be like. I am sure we would like to think differently but yeah, this is spot on.

36 is the New 40

Pat turned 40 on Saturday.
Pat is my brother in law. He Ryan's older brother. But Pat's wife Meme? She is younger than all of us other Losers. But if you average all the Loser ages together you get 36. I am the mean.

Here are the pictures from the party:

The blow out:

Meme and Pat's powder room has a tub. And that clever Meme made the tub into a lounging area. And it is now known as the VIP lounge.

I caught a bunch of people waiting to get into the lounge.

And going in.

And then coming out.




All. Night. Long.
Total party in there.
I kid you not.

Now, I can't tell you everything that goes on in the VIP lounge because well, I guess it is a little like Vegas and what happens in the lounge stays in the lounge. But I will show you some of the stuff that goes on . . .
Little washing of the hands.
Little cleaning up some split beer.
And there was, of course, the hanger on's.

We played in the tiki hut.




And then Stephan--always with the late night entertainment-- showed us what happens to some men when they turn 40. He used the palm tree to illustrate his point.

He did need a little help with some parts of his presentation.

But he was able to finish up on his own.

I'm not sure what happened next but I think maybe the Oregano said something--or posibly it was the Rosemary--you know , always sensitive about his girly name-- but Stephan got into fistacuffs with the herbs.
And he totally got his assed kicked by the Oregano, Rosemary and Mint.

You know you should never underestimate the strength of these herbs. So powerful is their pungency that Dee Dee commented that it smelled like someone was making sauce. Yeah, of her husband.

And after everyone left. Pat opened some gifts. A bottle of moonshine, a very shiny Rolex. . .
And a ride-a-long that Ryan plans on stealing.

Happy Birthday!