Learn to love like a Teddy Bear

I love Christmas, I do. I tend to like Hallowe'en better, but I think maybe that's because there's less hype, less stress, and a chance to be goofy. :)

Christmas went relatively well this year. I won't lie and say it was stress-free, though that's my goal. Next year I've got to get on board the FlyLady Cruisin' through the holidays missions. But, all-in-all, I'm satisfied.

Had the kid's picture taken with Santa again this year. Really not thrilled with it. DS has a weird smirk on his face, and DD looks scared. Given another 30 seconds, it would have been fine, but I guess you must keep the production line moving. :/ Oh well...

We had the in-laws over for supper Christmas Eve, then we all went to the Christmas Eve service at my church. Back to our place for presents and dessert. After they left, it was time to wrap the kids' and DH's presents. Yes, I managed to get it done, with help from DH. And this year I *tried* to have it done before Christmas Eve, but it just didn't happen...

Santa was very good to me this year. Which just proves that the old fart needs new glasses. LOL. The best presents? A new crockpot, a rice cooker, and a new video camera. And just for the record, it's all stuff I had on my wish list. It's okay to get kitchen appliances when that's what you ask for. :) Oh, and I got a bathroom scale. It's actually pretty cool. It takes your height and gender and age, then when you step on it, it tells you your weight and % body fat. I'm not telling what numbers it gave me, 'cause it's rather embarassing. Needless to say, they need to be fixed.

DS *loved* his toy from Santa. It's a good thing Santa found it, 'cause Mommy couldn't find it anywhere. (And I looked!) Good ol' eagle-eyes. Every present DS got was, "just what I always wanted." Even if he hadn't asked for it. :)

DD liked her presents, but at 8.5 months, she's just as fascinated with the wrapping as the gifts. DS didn't mind, he got to unwrap twice as many presents this way.

Christmas dinner was held at DSis's house, though Mum still provided the turkey.

I hope all my readers had a safe and festive holiday of their choosing. And if I don't post between now and New Year's, have a safe and happy New Year. And pleasepleaseplease, don't drink and drive...

Smoochies!

...to make yourself crazy. Lalalala-lala-la-la. :)

Yup. Eight days and counting. My shopping's not finished. My tree's not up. My decorations are half out. My front porch and home office are in a state of CHAOS. I have shows to enter for my business. My baking's not done. The presents aren't wrapped. We have family from out of town staying with my parents for a few days, so we have a mini-Christmas thing going on tomorrow. The list goes on and on and on and on and... Well, you get the picture.

Every year, I tell myself that I won't be up until the wee hours wrapping presents and stuffing stockings. Every year I tell myself that I will not be anywhere near the stores on Christmas Eve trying to get those few last minute things. Every year I tell myself that it's going to be different.

Well, it is different. It's not where I want it to be, but it's better. I'm lowering my expectations. I don't expect Currier and Ives. I don't put other people's demands over myself. I don't take guilt trips.

For a long time, Christmas went like this:
Christmas Eve:
Work. If I was lucky, I got off at 2 or 3 pm. But that was a last minute decision that I couldn't count on. Then it was dinner at the in-laws (in East-End Montreal). Then back to the South Shore for the Christmas Eve Service. Wrap presents. Stuff stockings. Sleep. Maybe...

Christmas Day:
Wake up. Watch those hours of wrapping disappear into a garbage bag. Breakfast. Wrap presents for family. Go to parents' house for gift exchange. Go to in-laws for gift exchange. Go back to parents' for gift exchange with extended family, and the big turkey dinner. Then home and crash.

I had two days of non-stop running around. I lived off adrenaline. My blood pressure was off the wall. I was so stressed, I'd snap at every little thing. Tears happened on more than one occasion. And no matter what, I was always made to feel like I was letting someone down. There's nothing like a side order of guilt on Christmas. :/

So, I gave up. I'm not out to please my parents or my in-laws. Christmas is about love and friendship and giving. I finally realized that I was miserable, and that nothing I did was going to be good enough in everyone's eyes. I now enjoy Christmas as much as I can. I can't live up to their expectations. I tried pleasing everyone, and it wasn't good enough. No one was happy, especially me. Now, people are still disappointed with me, but on my terms. And I'm okay with that. :)

Yup, she's going to kill me for this one... :)

She comments regularly on my Blog. She's the one who convinced me to start one of my own. She has one too, but she rarely posts there, unless she's found another blogger... :) You can visit it here.

Well, I think it's time to pay homage to this wonderful woman. I've known her since I was five or six... We went to the same elementary school, high school, CEGEP, and university. She was always the smart one. She knew most of the answers (at least until high school math). :) She's a veritable fount of information. You do not want to play Trivial Pursuit with her. I think in all the years I've known her, I've won once (maybe twice), and I think it was just cause she was rolling badly.

She is the most loyal and devoted friend. She'll stand by you regardless of what others say. Her heart and forgiveness know no bounds. She'll give you the shirt off her back, and the last dollar in her pocket. When she loves, she loves completely, mind, body and soul. She has this amazing ability to remain neutral in conflict. She rarely takes sides. But cross someone she loves, and watch out! And don't ever diss Chris de Burgh or Macs... :)

She was one of my bridesmaids. She's godmother to my DD. She's my best friend. She's my sister by choice. My life would suffer a tremendous void without her.

I love her, and I wish her all the blessings in the world, today and everyday.

Smoochies!

Yes, the weather's gotten colder. We've had our first snowfall. Not enough to stay, but snow nonetheless. The car's loaded up with scrapers and brushes and a shovel. DS wears snowpants everyday. It's enough to send you back to bed. Or at least to the couch with a blanket, a good book, and a cup of hot chocolate. Maybe get a little fire going in the fireplace (if you have one), or light a few candles... Anything that inspires thoughts of warmth.

Lately, I've been making soup. Homemade soup. From scratch. And you know what? It's good.

I've never been a big soup person. Sure, I enjoy a bowl from time to time. I'll eat it if it comes with the meal. I practically lived off soup, grilled cheese sandwiches, and fruit when I was pregnant with DS and had perpetual morning sickness.

Soup is supposed to come from a can. Add water if it's Campbell's, don't if it's Habitant. Making soup? Who's got time for that? And it never tastes quite right... Until now.

I don't know what's changed. Maybe I got fed up of checking the labels because DH has a reaction to MSG (monosodium glutamate), and it's in 90% of commercially made soups. Maybe I'm not such a big Campbell's kid after all. Maybe it's because I'm actually using recipes, as opposed to believing my Italian friends who tell me to throw everything into a pot, and voila! soup.

It started with my DGM's (dear grandmother) stew. Growing up, it was the only stew I liked. So, a few months ago, I pulled out the recipe and made it. Then DS reads the story of Stone Soup (if you've never heard the story, there's a version here.) Long story short, DS decides he wants to make stone soup. So, we find a nice smooth rock, scrub thoroughly, and make Granny's Stew (with minimal thickening).

I'm trying to use my crockpot more often. So, next thing you know, I'm making Granny's Stew frequently because I know it works well in the crock pot. And I'm thinking about how similar this is to vegetable soup, and wouldn't it be nice... And here we are.

On Saturday I made a chicken in the crockpot. I was on my way out after supper (to Ladies' Night - see below), and I didn't have the time or inclination to pick the bones. So, I left it in the crockpot, covered it with water, set it going, and left. Come home, turn it off, and set it in my near-zero porch to cool so I can scrape off the fat. Next thing you know, homemade chicken noodle soup.

I think, for me, it's suddenly fun because it's easier to break it down into steps. It's not an all-or-nothing thing. I don't have to dedicate an entire afternoon or evening to making it. Took me 48 hours to get my soup (basically didn't touch it on Sunday; too busy), but it was *so* worth it. It tasted great, I've got enough leftover stock to make another batch or two, and I wasn't exhausted at the end of it.

Okay, it's probably just a phase. However, I've made a great vegetable soup with beef and tomato and barley and alphabet pasta (like Campbell's), and I really enjoyed my chicken noodle soup. I think the next step might be to try to replicate Granny's Chicken Rice soup, which I *love*. And then, crème de la crème: Scotch Broth. Num-a-num. :) Maybe it *is* a phase, but I'm sure the folks at Premium Plus are not complaining.

On Saturday we had a long-overdue Ladies' Night. Basically, a bunch of us try to get together without the men-folk (under 12 excepted). It does my soul good. :)

What do we do? We eat, we drink (if desired), we talk, we watch movies, whatever tickles our fancy at the time. Now, these are women that I see on a regular basis. I'm not sure why I enjoy it so much. It's not like I never see them. It's not like we do anything different than when the guys are there. But being with the women who are such an important part of my life without any testosterone around... I'll say it again, it does my soul good.

Contrary to what most people would expect, we don't engage in men-bashing, femi-nazi crap. We don't demean the men in our lives, or men in general. We don't tear down the women in our lives with catty comments. We don't gorge ourselves on rich food, alcohol and the like. We don't do makeovers (although we do have some henna that we're going to use next time).

I love the women in my life. Those who were there, and those who couldn't make it. I love that they are real women. They aren't ashamed of their womanhood, neither do they think it makes them superior. They lift each other up, instead of tearing each other down. They are strong and capable and a force to be reckoned with.

These are the women who, last summer at Fest, dropped everything to search for a missing child while the men stayed at camp to batten-down the hatches for the incoming storm. (The child was found, she was playing with friends in the campground and hadn't told her parents where she was).

They are my gal-pals, my girlfriends, my sisters-by-choice. Oh, and my wife. ;) I love all of them dearly, I wouldn't trade them for the world.

Smoochies, Ladies!