An Accidental Tradition

Every year, around mid-December, I think to myself, "hey, you know what would really put me in the Christmas spirit?  Reading the first two chapters of Little Women."

So, I read the first two chapters.  Then I think, "well, I've read this far, I might as well finish the book."

Then I finish the book and say to myself, "I've come this far, I'd better read Little Men."

And, I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this, I wind up reading Jo's Boys, too.

So you see, the last week or two leading up to Christmas is almost always spent reading the entire Little Women series, even though my intent was simply to read two chapters.  I guess that's just how it goes, huh?

What I Like

I tend to be a little, oh, what's the word for it?  Proud?  Conceited?  A raging egomaniac?  I don't know, something like that.  This manifests itself in many areas of my life, but specifically, today, I'd like to address how I don't like to be given advice.  Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not offended by advice and I don't get mad if people give me advice, but it's not because I'm super nice, it's because I think most advice is so dumb that it's not worth paying any attention to, totally beneath me.  I don't "pin" inspirational quotes because I don't think I need to be reminded of my self-worth...I have plenty of self-worth to go around.  And I often scoff at people who do share inspirational quotes, I can't imagine having to be reminded by Gandhi or Einstein that I'm super awesome.  I know I am.

Yeah, I know, I'm a snot-face.  Hey, maybe that's the term I was looking for earlier.

Anyway, long story short, my sister convinced me to read "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin.  Do I think I need help being happy?  Of course not.  Even if I was unhappy, do I think a book would help me magically be happy?  No.  I can do it by my lonesome, because I'm just that awesome.

Well, regardless, I actually liked the book.  I don't think it changed my life in any way, but she made some interesting points I can't remember right now.  I got the book from the library, and I didn't write anything down and I don't have it with me right now, so I don't remember exactly what she said, but there was this one point in the book she was talking about finding what you actually like to do, instead of doing stuff you think you like to do.

You'd think it's easy knowing what you like, but it's really not.  I've been spending some time evaluating what I like to do, and I'm starting to realize most of what I think I like to do is either stuff I used to like to do or, more commonly, stuff I think I should like to do but really don't.  I've created a measuring stick for myself: if I'm willing to cut into my tv time in the evening, then I really like it.  If I'm not willing to cut into my tv time then I don't like it, or, at least, I don't like it more than a rerun of Chopped.  It's simple really, if I actually do it, then I like it.

So, here's what I'm starting to realize.  I don't like concerts.  In fact, I don't like listening to music unless I'm driving.  I don't like tea unless I'm having tea with a friend.  I don't really like ice cream generally.  These are all things I think I should like, but don't.

I don't like to draw.  I used to, but I don't now, I'm not sure why.  I don't like most movies anymore.  I think I've developed a very short attention span.

I do like to read.  I know that because I actually read, I cut into my tv time to do it and my sleep time, and I sneak pages in between waiting for my grilled cheese sandwich to brown.  I like watching silly tv shows with space ships and aliens and shows where people cook.  Now, if only Restaurant: Impossible had a Restaurant At The End Of The Universe special, I'd be really happy.  I like to cook and I like to eat, which is awesome because eating and tv watching are mutually inclusive.  And I like going places alone, coffee shops, movie theaters, even the grocery store.  And I like coffee.

And I like them:

And I like him:

And I like Christmas.  Unabashedly, genuinely and whole-heartedly.

The Ups and Downs of the Holidays

Tuesday evening, we drove to Utah to visit my in-laws as soon as my husband got off work.  Imagine my surprise when we arrived (after driving 6 hours) and my father-in-law was sick.  As a dog. Stomach Bug.  It obviously wasn't food poisoning, thus some sort of highly communicable death plague, I'm sure.

Wednesday morning, we dropped our car off to check out the transmission, since the last time we were at the shop for an oil change they said we had some leakage, but their shop wasn't equipped to work on transmissions.  Then, we took the kids to the park:

Afterwards, my mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and I decided to drive to Ikea for Christmas shopping and fun, since we figured we'd be too busy to venture out the rest of the weekend.

First, we got a call letting us know our car repairs would cost us at least $1,800.  Then, on the way back, my mother-in-law got violently ill in her minivan...the stomach plague, er, flu, had spread.  The thing about this stomach plague was, unlike most stomach bugs, it doesn't just last 24 hours.  A person might only be vomiting for 24 hours, but they aren't able to eat real food for at least a week (my father-in-law got sick Monday night, but as of Sunday afternoon when we left, was still on a mostly banana, applesauce, and yogurt diet).  So, into her room my mother-in-law went, for the next 36 hours, pretty much.

Thanksgiving morning, my sister-in-law and I decided to soldier on.  It was Thanksgiving after all, and even though we were both a little sick to our stomachs from being in a car with a puking person, we were going to make it happen.  We did the math, figured out how much time the turkey would take, and decided to cook the pies first.

And this happened:

I guess, unbeknownst to me, the brisket which was cooked a day prior to my arrival had leaked all over the oven floor, and then caught fire when I tried to bake my pies.  Oops.

By the time the oven cooled down and we got the mess cleaned up, it was too late to put in the ginormous turkey and expect to have it done in time for dinner that night.  So, we had brisket for dinner on Thanksgiving.  I'd have been disappointed, except that it was phenomenal, and my mother-in-law and father-in-law were still so sick they wouldn't have been able to enjoy a real turkey dinner any more than the brisket.

Thursday night, my sister-in-law and I also had a very successful (and fun) Black Friday shopping extravaganza, so all-in-all, things had picked up.

Friday, I was still worrying about the fact that my car was going to explode on the drive home, or something.  I was actually pretty worried, and trying to decide if it was worth it to fix all the damage and hope for the best, or just move on.  Cam and I had been talking about buying a minivan for over a year, so Friday, when my in-laws felt better, we left the kids with them and went to test drive some vehicles.  We didn't intend to buy that day, just see what we liked in person, though I knew, on paper, I wanted a used Honda Odyssey or Toyota Sienna.

Long story short, this happened:

It was the most expensive Black Friday I could've imagined, but I don't have an ounce of buyers remorse.

Saturday, we got to enjoy a turkey with all the trimmings, and open up Christmas presents.

Sunday, we drove home.

People have told me for years that travelling with kids is so much easier with a minivan.  I thought it was a gross exaggeration, but I don't think that anymore.  It was by far the most pleasant trip home I could've imagined.  So, I think we can say, overall, it wound up being a great holiday weekend!