I flaked on Christmas cards this year. I love Christmas cards. I hate when I don't send them out.
Maybe I'll do Valentines like I did a few years ago. Who doesn't love getting Valentines in the mail? It's a dying art.
Most of my friends don't have kids. Or, well. I don't know. More and more of my friends are having kids. I guess that's what happens in your mid to late 30s in this modern life we are living. Your friends start having kids. And stop sending Christmas cards. Most of the Christmas cards came from families and friends without kids. But some moms and dads were very very good this year, and on top of their card-sending shiz.
Without further ado, here is a run down of the Names My Friends Picked for their Kids. (Writer's Note- if someone who remains childless sends a card out with a picture of a pet on it, the pet is listed here. Please do not try to publicly guess which ones are pet names. That's like asking a chubby girl when she is due. There are four pets listed here.)
I'm sensing that mothers of Liams' and of Henrys' are the most responsible moms of all. (Personal Aside- Tavia- using this logic, you win for Responsible Mother of the Year!!)
Aaron x2
Abigail
Adriana
Alec
Annarose
Arthur
Boaz
Brittany
Beau x2
Cameron
Camille
Carly x2
Cian
Elise
Finn
Francesco
Freddie
Halo
Henry x4
Isabelle x2
Isabella
Jack x2
Jackson x2
Jessica
Joey x2
Jonah
Joseph
Kani
Keira
Lauren
Liam x4
Lucy
Maggie
Nicholas
Olivia
Samuel x2
Sofia x2
Sonny
Sylus
Theo x2
If you didn't send me a card this year and you would like your child(ren)'s name added to the list. Leave it below. I love names.
Not included are Jake's little school friends who brought cards to school. I didn't want to put their names on the internet, even though I really really want to because a few of them are doozies. South Philly people love to make up words and slap them on children. The best (saddest) is the poor last-born girl-child with one or more big sisters and no brothers. They are the ones who usually get dad's name with an -anna or -ia tacked on to the end "to make it sound Italian". The machismo that goes on in our community is strong, my friends.
Jake did not bring cards to school. He brought Christmas pencils. I thought it was a greener, more consumable option. Probably not though, once you add production and packaging and shipping and I wonder how long it takes for the little metal band around the eraser to return to dust and I'm not sure what they use for lead these days, especially in dollar store pencils but I'm sure it has an obscene half life and whoa, speaking of lead I wonder where they were made, that could have been lead paint in there or maybe sweatshop babies had to make those, that's not good.
I have a friend who doesn't believe in giving gifts that cannot be consumed within one year's time. Lots of cosmetics, candles, food, drinks, etc. come my way from her. It's great because the gift says "I care about you enough to buy you something to pamper yourself" at the same time it says "I care about you enough to buy you something that won't kick around your house until the end of time".
If you are friends with me in real life I've probably given you soap, alcohol, or candles. It's my way of paying homage to consumability so you don't have some dumb piece of knick knack paddy crap taking up shelf space and collecting dust.
12.27.2011
yule
Well that happened.
Christmas.
And no one got hurt, and only a few tears were shed, and no one got drunk or punched or grounded or arrested.
I call that a true holiday miracle.
Jake slept in until almost 8am after a night out catching up over drinks and eating one thousand bites of food and lighting the menorah and sitting on Santa's lap at friends' out in the burbs the night before.
Presents lasted about 10 minutes or so and then we just sat and played with new toys for one million hours before heading over to Cherry Hill to see Arthur Christmas then back to Chinatown for dinner at Ho Sai Gai. Best crab rangoon you've ever had, or I'll eat my shoe.
The movie was fantastic too. You should see it. In 3D, and I would never recommend anything in 3D.
Except How to Train Your Dragon. That you should see in 3D.
I got a nook!
Now I never want to be inconvenienced ever again in my life by having to put out the effort it takes to hold a book open and manually turn pages. I'm sitting in front of a stack of homework right now, and I just can't do it with the old fashioned texts.
I'm getting a cramp down my wrist just thinking about it.
Getting gifts is very awkward for me. I don't really know how to act and I sort of freak the freak out and act like I have some sort of special needs diagnosis.
Dave bought me the nook, and luckily he has a good sense of humor about my reaction to things bought for me.
We never really exchanged gifts, save for a few birthdays and Christmases along the years. We say it's just something we don't really do, but I wonder if he's really just protecting me from myself...
Did you ever read the Five Love Languages? Or hear of it?
Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch. Those are the five ways which most people show/give love or like to be shown/receive love.
To give love I'm a Physical Toucher, a Words of Affimationer, a Gift Giver, a Quality Timer, and a Acts of Servicer. In that order.
To get love I'm a Quality Timee, Physical Touchee, Words of Affirmationee, and Acts of Servicee. Gift Recipient is not anywhere on the list. It's off the chart. You won't find it here at all because it's so remote from what I'm comfortable with that I actually wrote it over on your blog.
But man do I love that nook.
For myself, I bought some Nioxin shampoo. Better living through science. The natural approach at trying to prevent further hair loss isn't working, so I bought the big guns. My hair was doing so well for a few months. Then it decided to revolt again. So sad. I'm taking it better this time around though. I'm all cried out over it. Time to get proactive.
Proactive. I should probably pick some of that up too. 35 years old and I have the worst acne of my life. Everywhere you can get acne? I have acne.
I'm treating that with chemicals too. Hopefully it will clear up in a month or two or twelve.
Bras. Four of them. Buy 2 Get 2 at Macy's today.
Bra sizes are like mens' pants sizes. They should make a size 35. I go 34 and wear it on the last clasp. It screams bloody murder for a couple wears and then the elastic gives some and it's a smooth ride forever after.
And the letter thing is just gross. They need to come up with a fix for that too. It's like getting graded.
Like a school girl.
Or meat.
And the trail of letters behind the number is just insulting.
I feel like more than one letter is secret code for "Lay off the Cookies, Fatty". Or "People Think You're a Slut".
But it's not.
I just have issues.
I don't know if there are lots of people (I should probably say "women" instead of people, but I'm sticking with "people") with my bra size or not many at all because they never carry what I need.
And that's how I end up with so many nude colored bras.
Nude.
Nuuuuude.
Muuuuude.
Moooooooooo.
Duh.
Whose nude is that anyway? That is not the color of anyone I know, and my group of peers looks like the friggin United Nations.
Shoes too. Size 7s are always in short supply.
And time. Where the hell is all the time at these days?
Someday when I'm smarter and richer I'm going to launch a research campaign around my obsession with the Time Space Continuum. And I'm going to have it renamed the Time's Pace Continuum. Because that's all it really is, isn't it? A continuum of moments and distances passed past as experienced by each of us with respect to our own relativity, stretching from So Slow/Far I Feel Like I Might Die Here if I'm Not Already Dead <-----> Holy Crap Is My Watch/Calendar/Mileage/GPS Serious or am I Losing My GD Mind?
I hope your holidays are falling somewhere right in the middle.
Christmas.
And no one got hurt, and only a few tears were shed, and no one got drunk or punched or grounded or arrested.
I call that a true holiday miracle.
Jake slept in until almost 8am after a night out catching up over drinks and eating one thousand bites of food and lighting the menorah and sitting on Santa's lap at friends' out in the burbs the night before.
Presents lasted about 10 minutes or so and then we just sat and played with new toys for one million hours before heading over to Cherry Hill to see Arthur Christmas then back to Chinatown for dinner at Ho Sai Gai. Best crab rangoon you've ever had, or I'll eat my shoe.
The movie was fantastic too. You should see it. In 3D, and I would never recommend anything in 3D.
Except How to Train Your Dragon. That you should see in 3D.
I got a nook!
Now I never want to be inconvenienced ever again in my life by having to put out the effort it takes to hold a book open and manually turn pages. I'm sitting in front of a stack of homework right now, and I just can't do it with the old fashioned texts.
I'm getting a cramp down my wrist just thinking about it.
Getting gifts is very awkward for me. I don't really know how to act and I sort of freak the freak out and act like I have some sort of special needs diagnosis.
Dave bought me the nook, and luckily he has a good sense of humor about my reaction to things bought for me.
We never really exchanged gifts, save for a few birthdays and Christmases along the years. We say it's just something we don't really do, but I wonder if he's really just protecting me from myself...
Did you ever read the Five Love Languages? Or hear of it?
Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, Receiving Gifts, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch. Those are the five ways which most people show/give love or like to be shown/receive love.
To give love I'm a Physical Toucher, a Words of Affimationer, a Gift Giver, a Quality Timer, and a Acts of Servicer. In that order.
To get love I'm a Quality Timee, Physical Touchee, Words of Affirmationee, and Acts of Servicee. Gift Recipient is not anywhere on the list. It's off the chart. You won't find it here at all because it's so remote from what I'm comfortable with that I actually wrote it over on your blog.
But man do I love that nook.
For myself, I bought some Nioxin shampoo. Better living through science. The natural approach at trying to prevent further hair loss isn't working, so I bought the big guns. My hair was doing so well for a few months. Then it decided to revolt again. So sad. I'm taking it better this time around though. I'm all cried out over it. Time to get proactive.
Proactive. I should probably pick some of that up too. 35 years old and I have the worst acne of my life. Everywhere you can get acne? I have acne.
I'm treating that with chemicals too. Hopefully it will clear up in a month or two or twelve.
Bras. Four of them. Buy 2 Get 2 at Macy's today.
Bra sizes are like mens' pants sizes. They should make a size 35. I go 34 and wear it on the last clasp. It screams bloody murder for a couple wears and then the elastic gives some and it's a smooth ride forever after.
And the letter thing is just gross. They need to come up with a fix for that too. It's like getting graded.
Like a school girl.
Or meat.
And the trail of letters behind the number is just insulting.
I feel like more than one letter is secret code for "Lay off the Cookies, Fatty". Or "People Think You're a Slut".
But it's not.
I just have issues.
I don't know if there are lots of people (I should probably say "women" instead of people, but I'm sticking with "people") with my bra size or not many at all because they never carry what I need.
And that's how I end up with so many nude colored bras.
Nude.
Nuuuuude.
Muuuuude.
Moooooooooo.
Duh.
Whose nude is that anyway? That is not the color of anyone I know, and my group of peers looks like the friggin United Nations.
Shoes too. Size 7s are always in short supply.
And time. Where the hell is all the time at these days?
Someday when I'm smarter and richer I'm going to launch a research campaign around my obsession with the Time Space Continuum. And I'm going to have it renamed the Time's Pace Continuum. Because that's all it really is, isn't it? A continuum of moments and distances passed past as experienced by each of us with respect to our own relativity, stretching from So Slow/Far I Feel Like I Might Die Here if I'm Not Already Dead <-----> Holy Crap Is My Watch/Calendar/Mileage/GPS Serious or am I Losing My GD Mind?
I hope your holidays are falling somewhere right in the middle.
12.14.2011
the goose is getting fat
Shopping for Jacob this Christmas was easy, he only wants one thing. A Nintendo 3DS. And while I'm not crazy about the video gaming and while I'm not crazy about a five year old having his very own video gaming thingy, I bought the Nintendo 3DS. In red. Because everything has to be red.
I got it at Target on sale plus they gave out a $50 gift card when you bought it so it covered most of the cost of the other gifts, so I feel like I won on some sort of level.
I also got him a hardcover copy of Jumanji.
And a Yellow Submarine clock for his room.
Scrabble and Parcheesi in hard wooden boxes- but those are really more house gifts than gifts for Jake. I only buy hardcover games. I hate those cheap soft boxes that never stack well anywhere and end up needing eight layers of scotch tape on the corners.
LEGOs, the kind that you don't have to make anything in particular.
And a couple Ninjago guys for his stocking.
And an eight ball, he's obsessed.
And a few more wooden train track pieces from Ikea. We never have enough to build the sort of track we want to build, and I'm assuming that won't change just because we are buying more.
And that's it.
I have a pair of socks to put in his stocking.
And a pair of rocket ship pajamas that I might wrap up or just give him to wear Christmas Eve. The last time I put Jake in a cute pair of jams the night before, he peed on them and had to change to something else and the Christmas morning pictures weren't as cute as they would have been and I just sort of flaked on it last year.
And summer clothes that I got for a steal- four pairs of shorts and four shirts, but I don't think I'll wrap them because I'm on the fence about Clothes for Christmas. It adds bulk under the tree for sure, but I think it raises quantitative expectations for Christmases to Come and disappoints qualitatively for the kiddo.
I'll probably just put them in a drawer and roll them out when the weather breaks in April.
Dave's mom might be getting Jake a telescope, he's really into space. We have an amazing picture encyclopedia I'd recommend to anyone who needs to pick up a gift for a little kid. The whole family will enjoy it and it's educational. Points. We are reading it for the second time, no breaks in between readings. It's that good.
I'm going to buy a game for the DS and my mom will pay me back. It's easier that way.
Blocks and trains and outer space and bugs and Super Mario brothers.
That's what little boys are made of.
Nice to know things haven't changed that much since I was little.
also, Jake has been a drawing fool lately. Which is a big step for him. It used to be like pulling teeth to get him to even try to draw.
I got it at Target on sale plus they gave out a $50 gift card when you bought it so it covered most of the cost of the other gifts, so I feel like I won on some sort of level.
I also got him a hardcover copy of Jumanji.
And a Yellow Submarine clock for his room.
Scrabble and Parcheesi in hard wooden boxes- but those are really more house gifts than gifts for Jake. I only buy hardcover games. I hate those cheap soft boxes that never stack well anywhere and end up needing eight layers of scotch tape on the corners.
LEGOs, the kind that you don't have to make anything in particular.
And a couple Ninjago guys for his stocking.
And an eight ball, he's obsessed.
And a few more wooden train track pieces from Ikea. We never have enough to build the sort of track we want to build, and I'm assuming that won't change just because we are buying more.
And that's it.
I have a pair of socks to put in his stocking.
And a pair of rocket ship pajamas that I might wrap up or just give him to wear Christmas Eve. The last time I put Jake in a cute pair of jams the night before, he peed on them and had to change to something else and the Christmas morning pictures weren't as cute as they would have been and I just sort of flaked on it last year.
And summer clothes that I got for a steal- four pairs of shorts and four shirts, but I don't think I'll wrap them because I'm on the fence about Clothes for Christmas. It adds bulk under the tree for sure, but I think it raises quantitative expectations for Christmases to Come and disappoints qualitatively for the kiddo.
I'll probably just put them in a drawer and roll them out when the weather breaks in April.
Dave's mom might be getting Jake a telescope, he's really into space. We have an amazing picture encyclopedia I'd recommend to anyone who needs to pick up a gift for a little kid. The whole family will enjoy it and it's educational. Points. We are reading it for the second time, no breaks in between readings. It's that good.
I'm going to buy a game for the DS and my mom will pay me back. It's easier that way.
Blocks and trains and outer space and bugs and Super Mario brothers.
That's what little boys are made of.
Nice to know things haven't changed that much since I was little.
12.12.2011
that will be 5 cents, please
I know that everyone who has ever been alive for more than 15 years is probably familiar with those Stages of Grief outlined by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross (insert umlaut appropriately). Those five stages we pass through with little regard to order/frequency/duration when we lose something or someone close.
Denial Anger Sadness Bargaining Acceptance Anger Bargaining Denial Sadness Acceptance Anger Sadness Denial Anger Anger Anger Acceptance Sadness Bargaining Dennniiiiaaaaaallllllll Acceptance Saaaaaaaaaaaaaadddddddddddddnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeessssssssssss Anger Acceptance.
You know the drill.
I'm not a grief counselor.
Nor do I want to be.
And I'm certainly not an expert in grief or grief counseling.
But I am taking all these trauma classes and grief comes into play with trauma. One of the principles of the program is that you can have grief without trauma but not trauma without grief. So there is a whole bunch of what-goes-where-and-how sort of reading.
Anyway, what I didn't know about those Five Stages is that there is some and/or's tied to the stages.
It's not just denial. It's denial or disbelief. Which are related, but they aren't the same thing. I'm good at denying that some things exist. Repressing, more likely. But denying is really easy for me. Much to the chagrin of others at times. But disbelief. Yes. Oh, right. How often have you just not believed that something is possible? Like it's a dream. Or someone is mistaken? Gotten their facts turned around?
Loss isn't always death, remember. It's loss of stuff. Loss of feeling. Loss of trust. Innocence. Expectation. Hope. Love.
Last year when I had something stolen out of my house (it was my engagement ring. I didn't really share that at the time) I just couldn't BELIEVE that happened. Did I misplace it? Did I just somehow miss it when I looked? As if it got mixed up with all those other diamond rings somehow? ha ha. I couldn't believe the person who took it would ever do that to me. I couldn't believe that any person would ever do that to any person.
I was in a total state of disbelief. For sort of a long time. Like, I still kind of am. As if it is going to just turn up one of these days.
And it just isn't sadness, it's sadness and grief. Grief is sadness times one hundred. And sometimes when we lose something, we flux between "upset" and "I wish I was dead". And that's okay. It's all okay. It's okay to feel this way, that way, and every way in between. We don't have to feel guilty if we are just a little bit upset one day after wishing we didn't ever exist the day before. Who knew? I didn't. I just sat there and felt guilty about the way I was feeling.
Anger is actually anger and resentment. This was the big one for me. I had what we call in the business "an ah-ha! moment". The heavens opened up and light shone down on the top of my head and my mind became full of information that it didn't have before. Resentment! Of course!
I'm famous for resentment. Resentment for the things I didn't do (i.e.- call and write and speak to and do things for and see more often) couples with resentment for the things the person who is lost to me didn't do and there is one giant eff show in my brain that makes me feel two inches big. I wish I would have known that resentment was part of it a long time ago. That would have helped me grieve a lot more things effectively and swiftly and thoroughly.
And isn't this the one we shut each other down on all the time? When we are ready to open up and say, "man I wish I wouldn't have skipped out of town that weekend/called him like I said I would/spent more time at home that last Christmas" to someone, what do they invariably say?
"Oh, come on now. You can't blame yourself. You can't change history. You had a really good reason not to."
And so on.
Right. I can't blame myself or dwell on past decisions. But I do. We all do, I think. We blame ourselves for things we know we should have could have would have done. And it doesn't ever seem to be honored so we bottle it up and let it fester and turn into something that affects us deeper than it was ever meant to. It can change who we are. How we see ourselves.
A terrible friend/daughter/lover/colleague. Heartless and cold and uncaring and self-absorbed.
Or is that just me?...
My new years resolution is to let people- including myself- wallow in the what could have should have would haves that come up surrounding death or loss. To honor that feeling as a real and valid and necessary feeling, just the way we are supposed to do for all the other feelings.
Bad feelings aren't bad to have. They are just icky to feel.
If that wasn't bad enough, sadness and/or grief is in bed with anger and/or resentment and they make all sorts of wonderful emotion-babies like frustration and emptiness and worry and fear and disappointment and irritability and all those things they make pills and therapists for.
Bargaining is really similar to denial. It's like denial that has stewed over and over in your head and mixed with blaming anyone who lies within a 50 mile radius of your loss and covered in a thick coat of guilt and tossed with a bit of shame just because who doesn't love to wallow in shame from time to time.
Guilt and shame walk side by side just like grief and trauma. I forget the exact wording that I've read one thousand times, but it's something like guilt is the feeling that the thing you did is shitty, shame is the feeling that YOU are shitty right through to the core. You can have guilt without shame but not shame without guilt.
And finally (and sometimes not finally) acceptance. It's okay to accept reality. Loss. It doesn't mean we have gotten over it. It doesn't mean we won't slip back in to one of the other four stages someday. It just means for right now, life will go on and will be enjoyed to the fullest possible extent we can possibly effing handle. For now. No promises for tomorrow. Or the next day.
It's okay to be a little further along- or further behind- in your grief than the rest of your family. Than the other person in your broken relationship. Than your friends who lost their friend too.
It doesn't mean you loved any less deeper or less harder or less intensely than everyone else. It just means you are moving along at your own pace.
And that is the best way to do it.
**A great, user-friendly book that I am reading right now is Trauma Through a Child's Eyes: Awakening the Ordinary Miracle of Healing by Peter A Levine and Maggie Kline.
It's written for parents, educators, and health professionals and it isn't techy or jargony or douchey and there is a lot of really good every day "what do I do if/when..." information that everyone can use. Not just parents of kids who are abused or trauma impacted. And there is some really good self-helpy sort of stuff in there just by nature of the material, which always scores points with me.
Denial Anger Sadness Bargaining Acceptance Anger Bargaining Denial Sadness Acceptance Anger Sadness Denial Anger Anger Anger Acceptance Sadness Bargaining Dennniiiiaaaaaallllllll Acceptance Saaaaaaaaaaaaaadddddddddddddnnnnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeessssssssssss Anger Acceptance.
You know the drill.
I'm not a grief counselor.
Nor do I want to be.
And I'm certainly not an expert in grief or grief counseling.
But I am taking all these trauma classes and grief comes into play with trauma. One of the principles of the program is that you can have grief without trauma but not trauma without grief. So there is a whole bunch of what-goes-where-and-how sort of reading.
Anyway, what I didn't know about those Five Stages is that there is some and/or's tied to the stages.
It's not just denial. It's denial or disbelief. Which are related, but they aren't the same thing. I'm good at denying that some things exist. Repressing, more likely. But denying is really easy for me. Much to the chagrin of others at times. But disbelief. Yes. Oh, right. How often have you just not believed that something is possible? Like it's a dream. Or someone is mistaken? Gotten their facts turned around?
Loss isn't always death, remember. It's loss of stuff. Loss of feeling. Loss of trust. Innocence. Expectation. Hope. Love.
Last year when I had something stolen out of my house (it was my engagement ring. I didn't really share that at the time) I just couldn't BELIEVE that happened. Did I misplace it? Did I just somehow miss it when I looked? As if it got mixed up with all those other diamond rings somehow? ha ha. I couldn't believe the person who took it would ever do that to me. I couldn't believe that any person would ever do that to any person.
I was in a total state of disbelief. For sort of a long time. Like, I still kind of am. As if it is going to just turn up one of these days.
And it just isn't sadness, it's sadness and grief. Grief is sadness times one hundred. And sometimes when we lose something, we flux between "upset" and "I wish I was dead". And that's okay. It's all okay. It's okay to feel this way, that way, and every way in between. We don't have to feel guilty if we are just a little bit upset one day after wishing we didn't ever exist the day before. Who knew? I didn't. I just sat there and felt guilty about the way I was feeling.
Anger is actually anger and resentment. This was the big one for me. I had what we call in the business "an ah-ha! moment". The heavens opened up and light shone down on the top of my head and my mind became full of information that it didn't have before. Resentment! Of course!
I'm famous for resentment. Resentment for the things I didn't do (i.e.- call and write and speak to and do things for and see
And isn't this the one we shut each other down on all the time? When we are ready to open up and say, "man I wish I wouldn't have skipped out of town that weekend/called him like I said I would/spent more time at home that last Christmas" to someone, what do they invariably say?
"Oh, come on now. You can't blame yourself. You can't change history. You had a really good reason not to."
And so on.
Right. I can't blame myself or dwell on past decisions. But I do. We all do, I think. We blame ourselves for things we know we should have could have would have done. And it doesn't ever seem to be honored so we bottle it up and let it fester and turn into something that affects us deeper than it was ever meant to. It can change who we are. How we see ourselves.
A terrible friend/daughter/lover/colleague. Heartless and cold and uncaring and self-absorbed.
Or is that just me?...
My new years resolution is to let people- including myself- wallow in the what could have should have would haves that come up surrounding death or loss. To honor that feeling as a real and valid and necessary feeling, just the way we are supposed to do for all the other feelings.
Bad feelings aren't bad to have. They are just icky to feel.
If that wasn't bad enough, sadness and/or grief is in bed with anger and/or resentment and they make all sorts of wonderful emotion-babies like frustration and emptiness and worry and fear and disappointment and irritability and all those things they make pills and therapists for.
Bargaining is really similar to denial. It's like denial that has stewed over and over in your head and mixed with blaming anyone who lies within a 50 mile radius of your loss and covered in a thick coat of guilt and tossed with a bit of shame just because who doesn't love to wallow in shame from time to time.
Guilt and shame walk side by side just like grief and trauma. I forget the exact wording that I've read one thousand times, but it's something like guilt is the feeling that the thing you did is shitty, shame is the feeling that YOU are shitty right through to the core. You can have guilt without shame but not shame without guilt.
And finally (and sometimes not finally) acceptance. It's okay to accept reality. Loss. It doesn't mean we have gotten over it. It doesn't mean we won't slip back in to one of the other four stages someday. It just means for right now, life will go on and will be enjoyed to the fullest possible extent we can possibly effing handle. For now. No promises for tomorrow. Or the next day.
It's okay to be a little further along- or further behind- in your grief than the rest of your family. Than the other person in your broken relationship. Than your friends who lost their friend too.
It doesn't mean you loved any less deeper or less harder or less intensely than everyone else. It just means you are moving along at your own pace.
And that is the best way to do it.
**A great, user-friendly book that I am reading right now is Trauma Through a Child's Eyes: Awakening the Ordinary Miracle of Healing by Peter A Levine and Maggie Kline.
It's written for parents, educators, and health professionals and it isn't techy or jargony or douchey and there is a lot of really good every day "what do I do if/when..." information that everyone can use. Not just parents of kids who are abused or trauma impacted. And there is some really good self-helpy sort of stuff in there just by nature of the material, which always scores points with me.
12.05.2011
cookies!
The tree is up. The construction-paper chains are linked and strewn. The stockings are hung. Now the cookie planning starts.
I'll be baking next Thursday night and Friday afternoon, for anyone who wants to stop by and take advantage of a hot oven.
I have found out the hard way that in tight times, heating up the oven can really do in your gas bill.
I think I have just about everything I need to bake except butter and flour.
And bourbon.
I mentioned it on Facebook back when I had Facebook, I've switched from vanilla extract to bourbon and OMG.
You wouldn't think that just a teaspoon of something would make much of a difference, but yes.
I've been using Woodford Reserve, just because that is what we had when we didn't have vanilla extract. And it is amazing. It adds a woody (does it really, or am I just thinking woody because of Woodford? I don't know.) sort of taste. A more complexity grownuppity sort of taste to the cookies. And it's such a small amount that you don't have to worry about the kiddies eating the cookies. There is probably more booze in a dose of Triaminic than there is in a teaspoon of baked bourbon, so let them eat the whole batch if they want.
Michelle at So Wonderful So Marvelous posted a recipe for DIY Bourbon Vanilla Extract. Which I'm going to use for the cut-out cookies.
My cut-out cookies are really good. I'm not sure where I got the recipe from, but it is time-tested and muchly-approved and you can find it here. It's sort of a pain in the ass, but it's totally worth it.
I'll be making the oatmeal cookies of course, which are my personal favorite. I will use Heath pieces in there this year. I used to use butterscotch chips but I've forgone them for the Heath. Again with the complexity grownuppitiness. And be sure to use the bourbon in this recipe!
And the cranberry almonds, but this year there will be real dried cherries in there instead of cherry-flavored cranberries because I got to Trader Joes after a delivery and they were in stock and I had just gotten a check from the auto insurance place after the car crash so I was rich that day. I think I'll do the vanilla bourbon here too.
And chocolate chips. Half with nuts and half without. Because everyone has a preference.
I don't like to use shortening in my cooking because I feel like it makes everything greasy and somehow plasticine (and if it touches my skin I alway gag and sometimes puke- depending on how much raw cookie dough I've already eaten. I have sensory issues), so I haven't been making peanut butter cookies or snickerdoodles for years. I'm looking for a non-shortening recipe for these two that isn't dry or crumbly. If you have one, please pass it along.
Also, I'm getting adventurous and making up a new cookie this year. I'm thinking it will be similar to those cookies with the Hershey Kiss on top, but no peanut butter and I will be using an Andes Candy (or maybe they make mint Kisses?) and mint-infused bourbon as the extract. Like a Mint Julep. We'll see. I'll keep you posted.
My cookie secrets are:
dark brown sugar instead of light brown
pecans instead of walnuts
gas oven instead of electric
bourbon instead of vanilla
butter instead of margarine or shortening
use LARGE eggs, not extra large.
make sure all ingredients are at room temperature, unless the recipe calls otherwise
knowing when to take the cookies out of the oven- they still bake after they are out!
What are yours?
I'll be baking next Thursday night and Friday afternoon, for anyone who wants to stop by and take advantage of a hot oven.
I have found out the hard way that in tight times, heating up the oven can really do in your gas bill.
I think I have just about everything I need to bake except butter and flour.
And bourbon.
I mentioned it on Facebook back when I had Facebook, I've switched from vanilla extract to bourbon and OMG.
You wouldn't think that just a teaspoon of something would make much of a difference, but yes.
I've been using Woodford Reserve, just because that is what we had when we didn't have vanilla extract. And it is amazing. It adds a woody (does it really, or am I just thinking woody because of Woodford? I don't know.) sort of taste. A more complexity grownuppity sort of taste to the cookies. And it's such a small amount that you don't have to worry about the kiddies eating the cookies. There is probably more booze in a dose of Triaminic than there is in a teaspoon of baked bourbon, so let them eat the whole batch if they want.
Michelle at So Wonderful So Marvelous posted a recipe for DIY Bourbon Vanilla Extract. Which I'm going to use for the cut-out cookies.
My cut-out cookies are really good. I'm not sure where I got the recipe from, but it is time-tested and muchly-approved and you can find it here. It's sort of a pain in the ass, but it's totally worth it.
I'll be making the oatmeal cookies of course, which are my personal favorite. I will use Heath pieces in there this year. I used to use butterscotch chips but I've forgone them for the Heath. Again with the complexity grownuppitiness. And be sure to use the bourbon in this recipe!
And the cranberry almonds, but this year there will be real dried cherries in there instead of cherry-flavored cranberries because I got to Trader Joes after a delivery and they were in stock and I had just gotten a check from the auto insurance place after the car crash so I was rich that day. I think I'll do the vanilla bourbon here too.
And chocolate chips. Half with nuts and half without. Because everyone has a preference.
I don't like to use shortening in my cooking because I feel like it makes everything greasy and somehow plasticine (and if it touches my skin I alway gag and sometimes puke- depending on how much raw cookie dough I've already eaten. I have sensory issues), so I haven't been making peanut butter cookies or snickerdoodles for years. I'm looking for a non-shortening recipe for these two that isn't dry or crumbly. If you have one, please pass it along.
Also, I'm getting adventurous and making up a new cookie this year. I'm thinking it will be similar to those cookies with the Hershey Kiss on top, but no peanut butter and I will be using an Andes Candy (or maybe they make mint Kisses?) and mint-infused bourbon as the extract. Like a Mint Julep. We'll see. I'll keep you posted.
My cookie secrets are:
dark brown sugar instead of light brown
pecans instead of walnuts
gas oven instead of electric
bourbon instead of vanilla
butter instead of margarine or shortening
use LARGE eggs, not extra large.
make sure all ingredients are at room temperature, unless the recipe calls otherwise
knowing when to take the cookies out of the oven- they still bake after they are out!
What are yours?
12.02.2011
Just jump on the hump of the Wump of Gump.
If you've ever been to a strip club, you know the drill. You sit down with your drink and a girl comes up to you and pretends she really likes you and you either go in the back with her or you don't.
If you don't, she moves on to pretending she really likes the next person at the bar and the next girl moves on to you.
I really like strip clubs. I don't go often, but when I do I am happy.
Looking at Other Women Naked is liberating. It let's us (me) know that we all have pretty much the same lumps and bumps and humps and dumps and clumps as one another.
Sometimes my lumps and bumps and humps and dumps and clumps? They trump the lumps and bumps and humps and dumps and clumps of the Women Naked. And that feels really good.
No one is totally free of flaws.
You might not know that if you spend your time Looking in the Magazines. Or around people who are Fully Dressed at Work.
Plus you get to see different ways of moving your body to get your butt to wiggle and stuff.
So in Vegas, strip clubs work the same as they do in Yourtown.
You sit down with your drink and a girl comes up to you and pretends she really likes you and you either go in the back with her or you don't.
If you don't, she moves on to pretending she really likes the next person at the bar and the next girl moves on to you.
In Vegas we went to a strip club. Not the Spearmint Rhino. I've been there before. It was okay.
We went to Glitter Gulch.
Eww, right? Gulch.
Ain't enough glitter in the world to cover up something one would call a gulch.
Say it.
gulch.
Let the 'G' get stuck on the back of your tongue and really feel that 'ul' warm up your mouth and then come down really hard on the 'ch' sound while you think about vaginas.
It has two and a half stars on Yelp.
And we went.
The first girl came up to us and asked us with a really thick Russian accent if we were together, if we had children together. I barely got out the "a five year old" (and now I'm talking about my kid. In a titbar) before I heard all about her three year old and how hard it is to take care of him and be so far away from her family on the other side of the world and I look like a teacher, am I a teacher? and how much she misses her mother and what do you do sir? and she's all alone and then the tears started and she just kept going on and on and on but every time she took a breath she asked "are you ready for a dance yet?" and it was really sad and we were never ready for a dance.
There's a song by a band that's from here in Philadelphia but I think they are famous all over called "A lap dance is so much better when the stripper is crying". I'll leave you to google that one for yourself. I don't think I want that in my search history. The band is called Bloodhound Gang.
I didn't find out if it is better.
I'm not one for lap dances much anyway. I like the pole dancing.
The next girl took it upon herself to tell us that she doesn't know what we think about her, but she wants us to know that she plants herself at church all day every Sunday and she is alright with God and one time she saw this episode of Judge Judy where this man was trying to get his kids taken away from his ex who is a stripper and Judge Judy kicked him out of court because that mom is making money to feed and clothe and shelter her kids and that's more than the dad can say about himself these last five years so if that's what Judge Judy said than it must be right. Amen to Judge Judy. That girl lives her life by God and Judge Judy and everyone else can go to hell if they don't like it.
Um, we don't have a problem with what you do. We're paying customers here. We're here by choice.
We like what you do.
However, we don't like HOW you are doing it so we will politely suck down our watery over-priced drinks and take our business elsewhere.
Ladies.
If you don't, she moves on to pretending she really likes the next person at the bar and the next girl moves on to you.
I really like strip clubs. I don't go often, but when I do I am happy.
Looking at Other Women Naked is liberating. It let's us (me) know that we all have pretty much the same lumps and bumps and humps and dumps and clumps as one another.
Sometimes my lumps and bumps and humps and dumps and clumps? They trump the lumps and bumps and humps and dumps and clumps of the Women Naked. And that feels really good.
No one is totally free of flaws.
You might not know that if you spend your time Looking in the Magazines. Or around people who are Fully Dressed at Work.
Plus you get to see different ways of moving your body to get your butt to wiggle and stuff.
So in Vegas, strip clubs work the same as they do in Yourtown.
You sit down with your drink and a girl comes up to you and pretends she really likes you and you either go in the back with her or you don't.
If you don't, she moves on to pretending she really likes the next person at the bar and the next girl moves on to you.
In Vegas we went to a strip club. Not the Spearmint Rhino. I've been there before. It was okay.
We went to Glitter Gulch.
Eww, right? Gulch.
Ain't enough glitter in the world to cover up something one would call a gulch.
Say it.
gulch.
Let the 'G' get stuck on the back of your tongue and really feel that 'ul' warm up your mouth and then come down really hard on the 'ch' sound while you think about vaginas.
It has two and a half stars on Yelp.
And we went.
The first girl came up to us and asked us with a really thick Russian accent if we were together, if we had children together. I barely got out the "a five year old" (and now I'm talking about my kid. In a titbar) before I heard all about her three year old and how hard it is to take care of him and be so far away from her family on the other side of the world and I look like a teacher, am I a teacher? and how much she misses her mother and what do you do sir? and she's all alone and then the tears started and she just kept going on and on and on but every time she took a breath she asked "are you ready for a dance yet?" and it was really sad and we were never ready for a dance.
There's a song by a band that's from here in Philadelphia but I think they are famous all over called "A lap dance is so much better when the stripper is crying". I'll leave you to google that one for yourself. I don't think I want that in my search history. The band is called Bloodhound Gang.
I didn't find out if it is better.
I'm not one for lap dances much anyway. I like the pole dancing.
The next girl took it upon herself to tell us that she doesn't know what we think about her, but she wants us to know that she plants herself at church all day every Sunday and she is alright with God and one time she saw this episode of Judge Judy where this man was trying to get his kids taken away from his ex who is a stripper and Judge Judy kicked him out of court because that mom is making money to feed and clothe and shelter her kids and that's more than the dad can say about himself these last five years so if that's what Judge Judy said than it must be right. Amen to Judge Judy. That girl lives her life by God and Judge Judy and everyone else can go to hell if they don't like it.
Um, we don't have a problem with what you do. We're paying customers here. We're here by choice.
We like what you do.
However, we don't like HOW you are doing it so we will politely suck down our watery over-priced drinks and take our business elsewhere.
Ladies.
the family that rocks out together...
I guess to some people, it is very important that the person they choose to spend the rest (or at least a good portion) of their lives with shares the same faith or religion as they do.
I guess it makes it easier to keep the faith. Or something. I don't know. I never really thought about/got it, and we've never really done it at my house- where we can't even agree on food choices, so what do I know?
Nothing.
But we all knew that already.
Enter the Christian dating site that is advertised, like, All The Time. On Every Channel.
You have no idea how much I want them to use Night Ranger's Sister Christian as their background music.
So when they are saying that they have unlocked the secret to revealing who God has chosen for you, they'd ramp up the music right at that drum solo and you'd hear:
You're motorin'
What's your price for flight?
In finding Mr. Right
You'll be alright tonight....
I should seriously consider a career in advertising.
Until then, I will just have to go on singing my own theme songs to everything.
I guess it makes it easier to keep the faith. Or something. I don't know. I never really thought about/got it, and we've never really done it at my house- where we can't even agree on food choices, so what do I know?
Nothing.
But we all knew that already.
Enter the Christian dating site that is advertised, like, All The Time. On Every Channel.
You have no idea how much I want them to use Night Ranger's Sister Christian as their background music.
So when they are saying that they have unlocked the secret to revealing who God has chosen for you, they'd ramp up the music right at that drum solo and you'd hear:
You're motorin'
What's your price for flight?
In finding Mr. Right
You'll be alright tonight....
I should seriously consider a career in advertising.
Until then, I will just have to go on singing my own theme songs to everything.
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