Where did these emotions comes from?

OK... yes, I'm pregnant.  With that comes a flood of emotions never quite seen before by myself or my husband.  But when I'm the one feeling like I'm getting a little too emotionally needy for my husband to handle, it must be pretty bad. 

I cry about everything and anything.  What's worse... it feels good.  I get these little sinus headaches if I hold in tears.  It's painful and makes me feel worse.  So here I am feeling all emotional and I want to cry about everything that I just let it out instead of holding it in.

But my husband doesn't like it when I cry, so he tries to make me laugh or say things to cheer me up.  This is so sweet and endearing.  He is doing everything in his power to make me feel loved and beautiful and happy during this emotionally trying time.  He is amazing!  Which also makes me cry... out of happiness.  Then he just hugs me real tight and tells me to knock it off.

I wish that I could control this.  It's pretty annoying.  At first, it was just sad movie scenes that made me cry uncontrollably.  Well... not even really sad ones.  I cried at the end of Twilight the last time I watched it.  For gosh sakes people, Bella was so worried that Edward would leave her in the hospital.  How could you not feel for her?

So if any of you have any suggestions on how I can control these waterworks, please let me know.  I'm running out of kleenex people!

There's something in the air...

I had a moment today... one of those moments where you feel a spark in the air and the hair on your arms stands on end.  It's that feeling of the holidays coming upon us.  I look around and see the leaves changing colors and floating to the ground.  The air is cool and crisp, just a little bit of bite so you know you need a coat.  In the early morning hours there is that sparkly layer of frost on the ground that warns us of winter on its way.

I love this time of year.  It seems to be the only time of year when people are truly and genuinely nice to one another.  We all get this bug that infects us with love and compassion and kindness.  People hold doors open for each other, and wave pedestrians across the crosswalk, and smile at passerby on the sidewalk.  This doesn't happen year round, although that would be nice.  

Holiday shopping begins and families are out and about celebrating and traipsing through the snow to peer in windows at beautiful decorations and listen to carolers.  I realize we haven't even celebrated Thanksgiving yet, but if you walk into Walmart right now you will be overun by Christmas decorations.  The sales are beginning and stores are preparing for the infamous Black Friday.  Department stores are already running continuous tracks of holiday music over their loudspeakers. 

I love walking through the mall, passing gift wrapping stations, and seeing kids bounce with excitement.  I love being in the crowded lines waiting to purchase my well-planned and thought out gifts.  I love spending an hour picking out gift wrap and bags and bows and ribbon.  I love decorating the tree and then sitting with my husband on the couch to take it all in.  I love watching him shake his head when I drag out all of the gifts that have to be wrapped and then obsessively wrap them as perfect as possible, only to watch them be ripped open weeks later.  I love the smell of the pretty holiday candles that we will burn for the next two months.

And I love that I can feel the excitement in the air that everyone else is feeling right now!

Faith

I have been really overwhelmed lately and I just haven't found out how to stay calm and wait for everything to work itself out.  As soon as we found out we were expecting, I became more and more anxious about our financial situation.  While my husband tells me repeatedly that we will be perfectly fine, I still worry that we will bring home this new little baby and we won't be able to afford him/her.  What if I can't breastfeed and we have to pay for formula?  What if diapers cost us way more than we planned for?  What if something has to be repaired at home and we can't afford to pay for it because the baby comes first?

About a month ago, I had started to see some light at the end of the tunnel.  We were budgeting and watching our finances... we even planned ahead for medical expenses and my income for maternity leave.  I was feeling good.  Then we encountered a plumbing disaster and piled up about $3,000 on our credit card (the one we had just paid off).  Since then, it's been very stressful.  I dread balancing the checkbook and looking at that credit card bill.  I put it off, because I hate seeing that I can't pay it off right away and that we are that much farther behind on being debt free.

When I talk to my mom about this, she always says the most reassuring things.  She tells me that her and dad are praying for us and that I just have to have faith that God will watch over us and take care of everything.  To be honest, at first that didn't make me feel much better.  I haven't been much of a religious person for years.  When I was in grade school and junior high, I was very active in my church and youth group.  At the time, I remember having faith.  I don't know what happened along the way, but I apparently lost some of that faith.  I can sometimes be easily discouraged and it's hard to turn to God when I don't understand why he would keep letting bad things happen to us.

Then I realized that I have to look at the situation with a little bit of perspective.  I recently watched the movie "Soul Surfer" and it opened up my eyes.  This true story is about a young surfer who loses her arm to a shark bite.  She couldn't understand why God let this happen to her, but others kept telling her that God had a plan for her.  Here I am stressing out about money, getting upset that God isn't helping me with my leaking basement, when people are sick and dying, or homeless and starving, or getting bit by sharks.  I have more than most, and I am very thankful for that. 

So the other day I was driving home from school and I couldn't find anything on the radio.  The first channel that I tuned into was a christian based radio station that had a speaker talking about prayer.  I listened for awhile and it got me thinking.  I have always had this narrow concept that praying occurred with your eyes closed, hands together, and you asked God for something.  But as I listened, this speaker elaborated on that by saying that people need to just take the time to "talk" to God.  Like he's a friend on the phone... 

So that's what I did.  I "prayed" for about the last 30 minutes of my drive home.  As I talked about everything that was bothering me and everything that I felt was going wrong, I started crying.  It wasn't really any different from talking to my mom or dad on the phone, but the result felt different.  Maybe this new prayer venture will help me build up my faith again.

I wasn't sure what my husband would think and I have no idea if he ever sits down and prays.  But yesterday, I had a bad morning.  I got some bad news on the phone and I just started crying.  My first thought was "Don't get discouraged and think that your prayer was all for nothing."  I didn't want to mentally scorn God because I had made this "leap of faith" and prayed, only to wake up the very next morning and have something else go wrong.  So I called my husband.  He calmed me down and, again, told me that we will be perfectly fine.  Then, at the very end, he said "God will look out for us."

Our little lime

I read my cousin's blog today that she wrote to her 6 month old son Jon, and it was so sweet that it made me cry.  It also inspired me to write about our little one... or to our little one.

This is our first pregnancy and everything is changing.  We found out we were pregnant 8 weeks ago and are so ecstatic!  At the time, our baby was compared to a poppy seed.  My pregnancy app compares the baby to fruit and vegetable every week.  Now, our little one is the size of a lime.  That's crazy!  A lime is so tangible...  so definitive.  The one ultrasound that we had was at 8 weeks and our little one looked like a peanut, or a lima bean.  No definite limbs, just a shape and a heartbeat. 

I wish I could see our little one now.  Arms and legs are moving and flexible.  Eyes are fluttering.  My pregnancy app says that if I press on my belly, the baby will feel it and squirm.  I love that!  I love that I have this weird, little way of communicating with our little one.

So here is what I would say to our little one:

I love you so much, and you're not even here in our arms yet.  Your Daddy is beyond in love with you.  He looks at me differently now.  With this sense of awe and love that I've never seen before.  When I touch my stomach out of comfort, he gets this little smile on my face.  If I seem to be in pain, he immediately asks if I'm okay.  Always checking on me and keeping tabs on my condition.

When we lay in bed at night, he rubs my belly and I know he is thinking about you.  We talk about you a lot.  What you are going through as you grow big and strong.  What you will be like when you get here and what we will be like once we are parents.  We talk about what to name you, and how excited we are to finish your nursery, and your Daddy keeps telling me to stop buying stuff for you because we don't know yet if you're going to be a boy or a girl.  Mind filling me in so I can get back to Babies R Us?

We talk to your Grandparents about you and I'm always sending emails to your Grandma about what new fruit or vegetable we can compare you to.  Your aunt is pregnant right now too and she is having a little girl, so you will have a cousin that is almost the same age as you!  You're going to love everyone when you get here and everyone here already loves you.

I've been pretty emotional lately with all of the hormones surging through my system.  I hope my constant crying and anxiety hasn't been taking too much of a toll on you.  I'm trying really hard to take care of myself and you.  I hope I'm doing a good job...  I'm not supposed to be able to feel you moving around for another month or so, but anytime you feel like jabbing or kicking me, please feel free.  I will relish in it like nothing else. 

We love you little one!

Baby. Baby. And more baby.

I have had a one track mind lately.  Baby.  Getting the nursery ready for the baby.  Getting the rest of the house ready for the baby.  Setting up the baby registry.  Thinking about baby names.  Buying diapers... for the baby. 

This is obviously normal.  Every new Mom (and Dad) go through big life changes when they are getting ready to bring home a new member of their family.  My problem is that I want it all done NOW.  I have 6 months before we will bring home our little bundle of joy, but that is not enough time.  No sir-ee Bob!  My craziness has been driving my husband nuts.  He told me the other day that I had to lay off the "Spring Cleaning" because he was running out of room in the back of his SUV to haul stuff to the dumpster.

I'm sure he gives me looks when my back is turned.  You know... the ones that say "OMG... what is going to happen when the baby is actually here?"  Or "I wish she would just stop moving, for one minute, and take a breath."  I think I make him dizzy.  Unfortunately, he knew this was coming.  I knew this was coming.

Luckily, we have an amazing network of family and friends that have been super supportive.  My Dad has been helping us every-which-way to get the house ready for the baby.  Bathroom remodeling, attic insulation, fresh drywall, and landscaping.  My best friend came over and spent hours helping me and my Dad, and I know that she is always there for me to lend a helping hand.  My amazing cousin has set herself up so that she can provide us with the best daycare ever!  We could not thank these people enough for what they have done for us already...

People always say that RAISING a child takes a village.  I say that GETTING READY FOR A CHILD and HAVING A CHILD takes a village as well.  I'm very thankful that I have a village behind us!

Crazy pregnancy dreams: Blog #1

My dreams of late have been very vivid and obscure... which should make for great blogging material!  I thought I would start posting regular blogs about my most interesting dreams and my own personal interpretations of them.  Then all of you can analyze them as well.  Who knows what we will come up with!

For the last month, I can't remember a night that I've slept straight through.  I get up about every 2-3 hours to go to the potty or to grab a glass of chocolate milk to fight heartburn.  I've read that this frequent up-and-down action all night interrupts my dream-filled REM sleep, thus making my dreams for vivid.  Also, since I'm awake so much during the night, I tend to retain more of my dream memories.

The first pregnancy dream I would like to share with you is about our vast solar system.  In this dream, I am in outer space.  However, it's more of my presence than my physical body.  Everything is very scaled down and close together, like I could reach out and touch all of the planets.  I am traveling around to discover life on other planets, and find it on Neptune.  Yeah!  I'm so very excited that Earth has made a new friend in Neptune and my immediate thought is to "move" Neptune closer to Earth.  

So I watch in my dream as the planet Neptune floats through the solar system, edging closer to Earth.  However, Neptune goes a little bit too far and ends up next to Venus.  Since it's too hot that close to the Sun, the planet starts to turn red.  I, of course, freak out.  I believe this is the point in the dream when my husband claims I was crying and moaning.

I convince Neptune to move back toward Earth, but Neptune has other plans.  Neptune, while he is excited to be "friends" with Earth, has decided that he wants to check out Jupiter.  I plead with him and explain that Jupiter is a big, gaseous giant and he will be swallowed up and destroyed if he goes anywhere near the planet.  (I remember having a "memory" in my dream about a satellite that had been sucked into Jupiter's gravitational pull and it exploded.)

So as Neptune starts bouncing closer to Jupiter, I start screaming "NEPTUNE!!!".  At which point my husband wakes me up.

Interpretation:  I didn't personally decipher this dream, but my husband did.  Neptune is my sister, who lives far away (only about an hour).  I wish that she lived closer, but obviously not too close (as my dream implies).  So Neptune heading toward Jupiter was like my dream subconscious warning me that while it would be great to have Neptune close, disaster may result.  Neptune could also be a metaphor for my parents, who live in the same city as my sister.

Nesting

No... this isn't some new fangled thing like planking and owling where people go around contorting their bodies into the shape of bird nests.  Although that would be pretty amusing...  I'm talking nesting as in the instinct that pregnant women feel toward the end of their third trimester.  The baby is coming and soon-to-be Mother's start feeling the urge and/or need to clean, sort, organize, reorganize, color coordinate, and generally prepare the home for their baby.  

I'm not talking about installing a baby gate in the hallway and putting outlet protectors everywhere.  I'm talking about pulling all of the clothes out of the dresser drawers and refolding and reorganizing them back in different places.  I'm talking about going through that mish-mashed collection of toiletries and hygienic items stowed away in that tiny hallway closet, throwing out items you will never use, and then putting them all back together in order of height inside cute little boxes with cute little labels.

Nesting is a bitch of a symptom.  So why am I, at a mere 9 weeks, feeling the nesting instinct?  My theory is that I'm a ridiculous neat freak.  Organization is my middle name.  Perfectionism is my nickname.  I can honestly see myself nesting for the duration of this pregnancy.  In fact, I kind of nest on a regular basis.  Most people just experience this in March or April and attribute it to Spring Cleaning.  I "Spring Clean" about once a month.  

So here is how my day went:

First, I did the dishes.  No big deal, right?  Well that involved getting the Cascade dishwasher tablet out from under the sink.  Once I was down there, I realized that the bottom of the cupboard, where we store our cleaning products, looked a little shabby.  So I pulled everything out and cleaned the cupboard.  Then I put it all back.

Next, I decided I was hungry and should maybe eat lunch.  So I grabbed a paper plate and plastic fork out of the far right cupboard.  But the odd assortment of plastic utensils floating around the cupboard in bags and boxes made me dizzy.  So I organized that.  Then I decided to take a look at the adjacent cupboards, just for fun.  What's the harm in that?

So then I organized the spice cupboard and reorganized the cupboard where all of our coffee mugs are.  While in that cupboard, I found a collection of empty spice bottles that I was saving for... who knows what.  I probably had some ridiculous crafty idea and just couldn't let them go.  Well, they are in the trash now!

From there, it all went downhill.  I ended up cleaning and reorganizing all of the kitchen cupboards.  I moved things around and now my husband probably won't be able to find anything.  But I'm happy!  And isn't that what's important here people?

Hormones

Since I don't truly know who my audience is comprised of, I'm taking the risk that someone will read this blog that hasn't heard the news...  We're expecting!  My life will practically revolve around this pregnancy for the next few months, and then my child after she is born, so now is as good a time as any to begin blogging about it.

To be honest with ya'll, I have been pretty miserable this last month.  Once the symptoms finally hit me, I couldn't shake the fatigue, frequent urination, stomach cramps, and 24/7 queasiness.  I've been emotional about everything from my much-to-early weight gain to the song playing on the radio.  I really want to enjoy this pregnancy, so I've been trying to just shed off this funk and start being positive about everything.

But today, I thought I had a breakthrough.  As I drove to a seminar this morning, an old Backstreet Boys number 1 hit came on the radio.  I found myself bouncing in my seat.  My head started bobbing and my fingers tapped the steering wheel.  As I picked up on those old familiar words, I started singing along softly.  About halfway through the song, I was belting out that tune like I was trying out for American Idol.

Backstreet Boys

Backstreet Boys

Everybody (backstreet's back)

Everybody

Rock your body

Everybody

Rock your body right.

Backsteet's back alright!

Oh my god we're back again

Brothers sisters everybody sing

Gonna bring the flavor, show you how

Gotta question for you, better answer now

Am I original?  Yeah!

Am I the only one?  Yeah!

Am I sexual?  Yeah!

Am I everything you need?

You better rock your body now

Now throw your hands up in the air

And wave 'em around like you just don't care

If you wanna party let me hear you yell

Cuz we've got it going on again

I was doing so well!  And then... my hormones took over.  The next song on the radio was the theme song to the movie Armageddon, "I don't want to miss a thing" by Aerosmith.  So what do I start thinking about?  Bruce Willis dying, of course!  He takes A.J.'s place to save the world.  He leaves his little girl behind so that she can be with A.J. and start a family.  And then Liv Tyler puts her hand on the television screen as it goes to white noise and static... "Daddy?  Daddy!"  (I'm a daddy's girl, so that didn't help the situation.)

I immediately start crying as I pull up to the next stop light.  (I started crying again as I picked the clip above from You Tube and watched it.)  I'm sure the guy in the truck next to me thought I was completely nuts.  Nope.  Sorry guy.  Not nuts.  Just pregnant.

Personal Boundaries

What is the cure for a nosy person?  Some people are so nosy, they don’t realize they are being rude.  It’s in their nature to be that way and they don’t pick up on the subtle, and even not-so-subtle, hints that they are being rude.  They lack basic social skills, have few friends, and seem to think that making themselves part of someone else’s business gives them a sense of belonging and acceptance. 

But they always take it too far…  They have no concept of boundaries.  I have a coworker that is the epitome of nosiness.  I know I covered this a little bit in my recent etiquette blog, but this is more of a “vent” blog. 

I left early from work yesterday for a personal appointment.  My boss informed me today that as soon as I walked out the door, said coworker was out of her seat and in his office (keep in mind that my boss is not her boss, so this was even more out of line).  She proceeded to ask him where I was going and why.  Since my boss smartly knew my reason for being gone was (1) none of her business, (2) something I wasn’t sharing with the office, and (3) NONE OF HER DAMN BUSINESS, he lied to her.  I take a little bit of pride in the fact that he quickly conjured up a smart little lie!

Unfortunately, I will be gone for a lot of “personal appointments” in the next 6-7 months, one as soon as next Monday.  Since she is nosy, she is also naturally suspicious.  This means that she will probably accelerate to asking our other coworkers if they know why I’m leaving.  Two of them do know, but they know better.  They understand the obviously hard-to-grasp concept of personal boundaries.

I’m dreading the day when she confronts me personally.  I have this fabulous excuse now for chewing her out.  Hormones.  Who knows…?  Maybe she will finally take the hint and stay out of everyone’s business.

Champagne anyone?

I was looking through my computer files today and came across something interesting.  I had written a toast for my sister's wedding, but I never had the opportunity to give it during the reception.  We arrived a little bit late, and after talking with the DJ after dinner, my sister realized we were running out of time.  So an executive decision was made to go straight to dancing and cake cutting.  I was a little bummed at the time, but it wasn't a big deal.  However, now that I have this blog as an outlet, I figured I would share the toast with all of you.  Hopefully my sister enjoys it too!

Here goes...

"Good evening and thank you all for coming.  I had hoped I could put together a simple little toast and memorize it, but when I sat down to start writing, I didn’t know where to start.  First and foremost, I want to tell you how much I love you both and how happy I am that you found each other.  You created this perfect little girl and we are all so lucky to have all three of you in our lives.  If I could give you any advice, after being with Ryan for over 10 years, it would be that you should always be open with each other.  Talk about your problems, pick your battles, and never fight over money.

Josh, I was trying to think of something to share with you about Melissa.  A little memory about her that would really make you feel like a part of our silly family.  I had plenty to choose from, but for the sake of Melissa’s pride, I will share those stories in private when we can laugh for hours.  However, I did think of something from our childhood that always makes her smile, so I’m going to pass this along to you.  When Melissa and I were young, I used to tell her silly stories at night to help her fall asleep.  I had a little repertoire of characters that I would use and then I would ad lib the actual story.  If she ever has a hard time falling asleep, please tell her a silly story about the chicken McNugget people that walk around in cowboy boots.

Melissa, we have been through a lot together.  We were so close when we were younger, playing kick the can in the alley and basketball at Danny’s house.  Mom always made us come in at like 6:00 to go to bed, so we had loads of time together and we had to make our own fun.  Like… mattress surfing on the staircase.  I know we drifted apart in my teenage years, but you were so little and dorky and I didn’t know any better.  Now that we are mature, responsible adults, I feel like we are right back to being those crazy, close sisters that had to sit in timeout together in the game closet.

Now you have a daughter and you’re married, and you’re not that dorky, little girl anymore.  You are beautiful and strong, and you will make a great wife for Josh.  I wish you both all the happiness in the world.  To Melissa and Josh!"

A birth like no other

I’m not sure why I decided to write about this today…  I really enjoyed reminiscing the other day and I was trying to think of another fond memory to write about.  Since my little sister is expecting baby #2, I got to thinking about the day that my niece Emma was born.

My sister was scheduled to be induced on Monday, February 16, 2009, so she arrived at the hospital about 8:00 p.m. the night before.  I took the 16^th off work and planned to drive up first thing in the morning.  My lack of experience with pregnancy and induction had me worried that she would give birth before I could drive the hour to the hospital that morning.  Boy was I wrong…

I believe they broke her water that morning to see if she would start dilating, but that didn’t work.  I arrived about 9:30, sweating and panting, expecting my niece to be crowning, but everyone was calm and collected.  I presented my sister with a special “Mommy” charm bracelet as a gift and then we all proceeded to sit around… for hours and hours and hours.

Eventually they gave her Pitocin and that sped things up.  The contractions were getting pretty bad, so she opted to get her epidural.  Her boyfriend was a needle-phobe and couldn’t stand to watch it happen, so I stayed in the room and held her hand while the anesthesiologist stuck a huge needle in her back and she turned into a happy girl again.

By late afternoon, there was quite a crowd.  Me, my Mom, my Dad, my sister’s boyfriend, his sister, and his Mom.  Around 6:30, me and my parents headed out to McDonald’s for dinner while my sister and her boyfriend had some alone time.  Around 8:00 p.m., the doctor arrived and said it was time to start pushing.  It didn’t seem so bad at first, but after awhile, I started pacing the halls.  This was a small hospital and there only seemed to be one other woman giving birth that night, so I wasn’t in anyone’s way. 

At one point, my sister stopped panting like the doctor was ordering and started making funny moaning and screaming noises.  That was all my Mom’s poor heart could take.  She took off down the hall to get away from the emotional stress of hearing her baby girl give birth.  By now, I’m sitting in the hallway across from my sister’s room with my head in my hands.  Have I mentioned before now that I’m a very anxious person?

Finally, at 10:28 p.m., my beautiful niece Emma was born.  After another hour, we all got to go in and see them.  That’s when I got really emotional… because my sister announced that her name was Emma Nicole.  Really?  I started crying… because my middle name is Nicole too!  And then my sister said that she chose that for her middle name because I meant so much to her.  Cue:  A ridiculous blubbering mess!

The End!

One simple reason why I'm a Daddy's Girl

I love reminiscing!  I was eating apples with peanut butter earlier and I randomly remembered something from my childhood.  Give me about a paragraph to make the correlation to peanut butter before you give up and go read another blog.

When my sister and I were growing up, our Dad worked nights.  He was, and still is, a baker.  He would go to work about 8:00 or 9:00 o’clock and work until the wee hours of the morning.  Every once in awhile, we would beg and beg to have a sleepover at the bakery.  There was a little twin sized cot in the small room off of the bathroom and we would bring up our sleeping bags and pajamas.  Our initial intention was to help our Dad bake, eat yummy baked goods, and absolutely, positively stay awake until Dad was ready to go home.  This, I’m sad to say, never happened.  At some point, whether due to exhaustion or a sugar coma, we always fell asleep before he was ready to leave.

One specific memory of our little bakery sleepovers was making homemade chocolate peanut butter cups (see, there’s the correlation!).  We would put liners in a cupcake pan and melt chocolate chips into the bottom.  Then we would scoop a little bit of peanut butter into the middle, and finally, smother the entire thing with more melted chocolate chips.  Then, the whole concoction would sit in the freezer for a few hours to harden.  In the meantime, I honestly can’t remember what we would do to pass the time.  Hide-n-seek among 50 pound bags of flour?  Or maybe we would squeeze ourselves into the little crawl space on the side of the huge, industrial sized oven? 

I do remember that the homemade chocolate peanut butter cups were way too hard to eat straight out of the freezer, but we would just sit there and suck on them until they melted in our mouths.  Imagine a Reese’s Peanut Butter cup the size of a jumbo muffin from Tim Horton’s.  Sometimes we had to use a fork… 

I always loved our little sleepovers at the bakery.  Not so much because we got to eat sugary delights late at night or stay up past our bedtime, but because we got to enjoy that special time with our Dad.  It was like our own special little “Take your daughter to work” day… or night.

Can I turn off my anal-ness?

Apparently I'm anal.  To be quite honest, I knew this.  I will admit this... no question.  But I was never as anal as I am today.  It has been like a creeping characteristic, edging its way into my being over the last ten years.  

As a high school student, I could have cared less about my school work, grades, and punctuality.  I graduated with a 2.9 GPA and barely scraped by with an ACT score that provided me with a one-time $250 scholarship, which I never even used.  My bedroom was always a mess and I practically refused and/or avoided doing chores around the house by always being gone at work or out with friends.  I held a job, but my work ethic was nothing like it is today.  I had no qualms about lying to my boss and calling in "sick".

Today, I work a full time job where I am very proud of what I've achieved and the work I produce.  I landed a paralegal job with no experience and I've self taught myself almost everything that a paralegal gains during a two-year certificate program.  I also work a part time job where I attained the status of "pet" after one night of work.  Luckily, my coworkers are not annoyed by my organization, cleanliness, and overall anal nature.  I rarely miss work and never call in to play hooky.

My home is not spotless, but I'm very proud to say that I could entertain company at any given time with minimal "picking up" needed.  I tend to nest on a daily basis, constantly cleaning up and keeping things orderly.  My husband and I have, over time, developed our own little set of chores around the house and we go about them easily and without complaint.

Finally, I am a very anal student.  I have attained a 4.0 in all but two classes in 6 years of part time schooling.  I will not speak of that darn pre-calculus class...  I always arrive to class close to thirty minutes early and I rarely miss a class session.  I take crazy notes and always do my homework way ahead of time.  I tend to be the teacher's pet.

Now that I've appeared to brag about this great person I've become (which honestly doesn't make me blush because the only people that really read my blog are my Mom and my husband, and they both know all of this anyway) I have to explain why this came about.

I'm in an African American Art History class this semester and I have to drive quite a distance to get to class once a week.  I have this concern that weather will interfere with my ability to get to class and the syllabus indicates that I'm only allowed one absence during the semester without it affecting my grade.  After that, I'm docked one letter grade.  In other words, if I work my ass off to get a 4.0, but miss more than one class session, I'm getting a 3.5.  Three missed class sessions?  3.0... 

I decided to talk to my professor and see if there was any leeway.  I hate asking for special treatment and can honestly say that I've never asked it of a professor.  I understand that they have to have guidelines that apply to every student.  At the same time, I honestly feel that my situation is unique.  I'm driving 2 hours each way and winter is coming.

As I was talking to my professor, she says to me:  "I've noticed that many non-traditional students are very anal about their schooling.  They get ulcers and headaches and you don't want that.  I mean no offense by this, but it is very true.  So I want you to chill.  Just relax.  You need to focus on doing the work to get your 4.0 and nothing more.  If you need to miss a second class period, we will talk about it when that time comes."

Hmmm...  Am I that transparent?  Are non-traditional students all as anal as me?  Maybe I do need to chill out a little...  More importantly, what did she mean by this?  Will she not dock my grade?  Or is she just trying to get me to not think about it over the next 15 weeks?  Gosh... now I'm just going to worry more.  Dammit!

A slogan by any other name...

I was driving to work today and found myself at a stop light behind a service van for “Trane”, the HVAC company.  I got to thinking about their slogan “Nothing stops a Trane”.  If nothing stops a Trane… why do they need service repairmen?  Maybe their slogan should be “Nothing stops a Trane… permanently”?  Does that mean that they don’t offer warranties because they claim their products never stop working?

All of this got me thinking about product slogans and I did a little research.  There are some odd ones out there that really don’t make a lot of sense.

Nike:  “Just Do It” 

Do what?  Should we assume they mean “Just buy the Nike shoes”?  Or are they implying that “it” means running, or walking, or playing sports… which is what most people do when they purchase $145 sneakers.

State Farm:  “Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there” 

I am a loyal State Farm customer, but I don’t get this.  I only personally know one of our neighbors.  They are nice, but I wouldn’t expect them to show up if I was in an accident.  I’ve never even borrowed a cup of sugar from them.  Maybe they should change it to “Like a nosy coworker every time you turn around, State Farm is there”.

Lay’s:  “Betcha can’t eat just one” 

Well duh!  If the serving size were one potato chip, I would consider that they were challenging us to stick to our nutritional guns.  And they used a word in their slogan that isn’t even a word, “betcha”… although I’m sure that Webster’s will get right on that if they haven’t already.  I believe my previously used “duh” is already in there.

Camel:  “I’d walk a mile for a Camel” 

I doubt it.  If you smoke Camel cigarettes, you probably can’t even walk from your car to the gas station clerk to buy another pack of smokes without getting out of breath. 

Taco Bell:  “Head for the Border”

First of all, Taco Bell is a disgrace to Mexican food… and this slogan is racist.  Am I to assume we can only eat Mexican food in Mexico?  Should we assume that fried chicken is only made in the south where African Americans used to live as slaves?  By this logic, the slogan for KFC should be “Head for Alabama”.  I find this slogan offensive… ‘nuff said.

Frosted Flakes:  "There G-G-Great!"

That took a lot of thinking.  I mean A LOT!  Was their marketing team sitting around one day in the conference room, just munching on frosted flakes, when one pimply faced intern blurts out "Gosh these are great!".  And it just stuck?

Maybe I should have gone into marketing...?  I just don't understand where some of these companies come up with these slogans. 

Heeere's your sign.... thanks Bill Engvall!

Are you following the rules of workplace etiquette?  Could you be missing the signs from your fellow coworkers that you're breaking these rules?

If you're new to the field of general employment (i.e. you just turned 16, or you have been a bum for years and finally got off your butt and got a job) you may find this guide useful for your integration into the workplace social scene.  If you're a workplace veteran, you might just need a refresher. 

Unfortunately, the people that this blog is aimed toward (and yes, I wrote this blog in response to one particular coworker who constantly breaks the rules of workplace etiquette) are ignorant enough to not realize they're breaking these rules of etiquette and they will be unlikely to benefit from this useful information.

Let's get started!

1.  The fridge.

It has been made abundantly clear, via numerous emails, that you have to write your name on anything you put in the fridge or it may be stolen or thrown away.  We have scavengers in our office that are apparently under fed at home.  Also, our fridge is cleaned out every Tuesday at 3:00 p.m.  The office manager oversees the receptionist (because it's totally a two person job) to check expiration dates and anything that looks to be growing something bulbous or green.

So, the 1st is obvious.  Write your name on your shit!  The 2nd rule should be obvious, but considering my experiences...  Don't eat shit that doesn't have your name on it! 

2.  Privacy.

I'm going to go over two main scenarios here because it is, unfortunately, necessary.

Phone calls:  If I am on the phone with someone and you are close enough to hear the conversation, that is not an implied invitation to take part in the conversation.  There are two situations here and I'm honestly not sure which is more rude and annoying.  The first occurs when someone is listening to your conversation and starts talking to you about it.  Maybe a little "transcript" will help explain this better:

Me:  "No ma'am, we do not handle divorce matters, but I would be happy to refer you to attorney Smith.  Let me get his phone number for you."  But before I can look it up, my cubicle neighbor is shouting it over the half wall that separates me from her insanity. 

The second situation occurs when that same cubicle neighbor promptly skitters (and I use that term because it reminds me of a cockroach) over to me and strikes up a conversation about the conversation they just overheard.  This could be a mish-mash of advice, comments, suggestions, questions, etc.  This is especially bothersome when the call was personal and your cubicle neighbor starts asking why you have a doctor's appointment.

So, the rule here?  Don't eavesdrop!

Private Conversations:  I realize that it is difficult to have a private conversation in the middle of an office setting, especially one filled with women.  But it is easy to look at two or more individuals, assessing posture, eye contact, voice loudness and tone, and determine whether they are having a private conversation.  If you witness any signs of a private conversation (whispers, flitting eyes, a leaning gesture, etc.) keep on walking. 

So, the rule here?  Mind your own damn business!

This can also be applied to any conversation, private or not.  For example, I could be standing up talking to the receptionist about any number of topics, and that nosy cubicle neighbor will just walk up and stand there.  She has effectively made herself a listener in the conversation, whether we like it or not, and then, since we haven't shooed her away, she will take her turn as a talker, interjecting that same combination of advice, comments, suggestions, and questions.

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In conclusion, it is important to point out the signs that you might be breaking the rules of workplace etiquette.  If you happen to notice any one of the following, you need to check yourself... before you wreck yourself!

1.  Evil glares from coworkers, especially if deadly lasers are shooting out of their eyeballs.

2.  Complete silence when you approach your coworkers, especially if they appeared to be holding a rather lively conversation just seconds before you arrived.

3.  Non responsive behavior.  If you communicate, in any way, to a coworker and they blatantly ignore you, either verbally, physically, or via email, you have overstepped a boundary and your coworker is doing everything in their power to not rip off your head.  Do not push for a response!

High school yearbook memories

I redeveloped some old film from high school a few weeks ago in preparation for a get together with some old gal pals and my upcoming ten year class reunion.  It was like an out-of-body experience seeing myself in these pictures.  I honestly didn't recognize who I was looking at.  I have changed so much since high school and I couldn't figure out how I went from point, or person, A to B.

This got me thinking... What was I like in high school?  What did people think of me?  I decided to investigate, because to be honest, I was really curious.  The first thing I did was Facebook message a few old friends.  I knew they would be honest with me, and I got some great, albeit unexpected, feedback. 

"You were the best friend anyone could have asked for.  I remember you ALWAYS being late in the mornings, but hey I was happy for the ride.  Another thing I remember is how creative you were. You always made everything look so good."

"You were a wanna be preppy who had only good intentions at heart.  You were never the "rich" kid or "poor" kid.  You were sweet, but if someone wasn't as popular as others, you probably second guessed yourself when it came to socializing with them.  You could be jealous, but you loved those around you deeply.  You were super smart and witty, and I am sure mostly everyone liked you.  I know I liked you."

"I remember you being like a lot of high school kids trying to fit in.  I feel you tried to figure out your spot with each little group from athletics, to those who didn't give a damn about anything, to the in-crowd.  I sometimes thought you just weren't sure who you wanted to be or whom you wanted to be around.  Overall, I wouldn't say you weren't any different from lots of others in high school and I had the privilege of seeing the true you when we had our moments together.  I always knew you were a beautiful person on the inside and out and always held you as a good friend."

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I mentioned this whole matter to my Mom today and she thought of the clever idea of pulling out my old yearbooks.  Gosh did that produce some interesting insight into the person I was.  Or at least how others viewed me.  So I thought I would share some interesting writings from my yearbooks.

Freshman year:

"You're a good person and I hope you never change."

"I want our kids to grow up and be best friends like we are."

"You are a good friend and we have a blast when we are together."

"We can never tell our kids what we've done, because we don't want them to turn out like us."

Sophomore year:

"You're a great girl and you will go far in whatever you do."

"You are a very outgoing and friendly person and I admire that in you."

"You are the coolest bitch I know!"

"I hope everything you want in life comes true."

Junior year:

"You are my bestest friend in the whole wide world.  No matter what, we have to stay friends forever."

"You have such a wonderful personality."

"I hope you become a successful lawyer.  Then we can meet for expensive lunches!"

"You've always helped me out whenever I needed it and I'll never forget you for that."

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Unfortunately, we always received our yearbooks the following school year, so I didn't have a chance to have anyone sign my senior yearbook.

I highly recommend that each of you get out your old yearbooks and take a walk down memory lane.  This was a lot of fun and helped remind me about the person that I used to be... the person that most of the people at my upcoming ten year class reunion remember me as.  Hopefully they will not be disappointed...

My bucket list

"Every man dies - Not every man really lives.” ~ William Ross

I LOVE to make lists.  I'm absolutely ridiculous about it.  I relish in the task of creating a fabulous list.  A packing list for vacation.  A honey-do list for Mr. H.  Grocery shopping lists.  I'm pretty anal about it...

So creating my bucket list is a familiar and comforting task for me.  Ah...  the thrill of numbering a sheet of paper, with beautiful penmanship, and then carefully listing off the exciting goals I want to accomplish before I die.  I get all tingly inside just thinking about it!

I decided that I would share my bucket list with you.  Maybe it will encourage you to create your own bucket list... maybe even give you some ideas that you hadn't thought of.

1.  I want to visit all 50 states by the time I turn 50.  I've got a pretty good start...  I have this "requirement" that I want to collect something from each state, or take a picture of myself in front of some famous monument in each state.  I'm really being quite finicky about this.

2.  I want to go skydiving.  I'm afraid of heights, and falling, and flying, but I am bound and determined to strap myself into a parachute and jump willy-nilly out of a plane.

3.  I want to do the Labor Day Mackinac Bridge walk/run.  Whether I walk or run will depend on how much I train.  Since I'm also afraid of bridges, in addition to being afraid of heights, I think I might run so that I can get off the bridge quicker!

4.  I want to run a half marathon.  I trained for and completed a 5k in the summer of 2010.  I felt great afterwards... until I came down with a respiratory infection and couldn't run, or exercise, for three weeks.  My intention was to train for a half marathon that October by training for and completing the 5k. 

5.  I want to see the ball drop in Times Square on New Year's Eve.  It's not like I'm jonesing to see Dick Clark or Ryan Seacrest, I just feel like this is something that everyone should experience in their lifetime.  The excitement, the craziness, and the confetti! 

6.  I want to travel to Rome.  Or Europe in general.  I want to see the Pantheon, the Colloseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Vatican archives, St. Peter's Square and Basilica, and all the other famous sculptures, fountains, and architecture.  I also want to go to the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and see castles in Germany.

7.  I want to work at the Smithsonian.  I would also settle for the Field Museum in Chicago, IL.  I am a History major, with an Art History minor, and I would like to get my Masters Degree in Museum Studies.  I don't necessarily want to be curator, but I wouldn't turn down the job if it was offered to me. 

8.  I want to go scuba diving on a tropical reef.  When I was younger I wanted to be a marine biologist and I've always enjoyed watching beautiful fish in their natural habitats.

9.  I want to build my own home.  I have a "dream house" in my head.  It's nothing extravagant...  Just big enough for our family, a couple of guest rooms, nice open living spaces, an island in our kitchen, and a big yard with lots of trees and great landscaping. 

10.  I want to volunteer/work for the Multiple Sclerosis Society.  My brother-in-law was diagnosed with MS a few years back and we have been involved with the society ever since.  Our local Michigan chapter is always in need of volunteers and people to work on committees to organize fundraisers and such.  I don't have a lot of free time, but I want to make time for this.

11.  I want to see Katy Perry in concert.  This may seem like an odd goal to put on a bucket list, but she is my favorite musician.  And consider this.  It's hard to get tickets to her concerts, they aren't cheap, and she won't be touring forever.  Every musician has their era...

12.  I want to become proficient in a second language.  I have always thought it would be exciting to be able to speak another language.  I have to be proficient in Spanish, up to a certain level, for my Bachelors Degree, so that's a start.

13.  I want to meet my goal weight.  Preferably before I get pregnant...  I have struggled with my weight for years, and I finally got things under control.  Now it's a matter of toning up and trimming off some excess weight.

14.  I want to publish a children's book.  I had to write, illustrate, and publish a children's book for one of my elementary education classes and I really enjoyed the whole process.  And, if I may say so, the book was pretty darn snazzy!

15.  I want to backpack the Appalachian Trail with my hubby.  This is really more of his goal, but I think the whole idea is fascinating and would love to accomplish this with him! 

16.  I want to buy and restore an old car with my hubby.  I haven't decided what type of car yet, but I think I want to paint it powder blue with cream leather interior.  Beyond that, I haven't a clue!

17.  I want to get my phoenix tattoo.  The phoenix is a symbol of rebirth.  I went through a big life change when I got my act together and started taking care of myself and getting healthy.  This tattoo would symbolize my transformation.

18.  I want to visit every one of the Disney World parks.  This is cheesy, but I'm still a kid at heart!  And I want a fast pass too!

19.  I want to be the founder of a historical organization.  Maybe something that raises money to restore historical artifacts?

20.  I want to get my Masters Degree.  Whether it's in Museum Studies or not, I want to accomplish this at some point.  Even if I have to write 60,000 word essays and spend months with my head in books at the library.

21.  I want to learn to drive a manual transmission.  This is especially important because the car that my hubby and I buy and restore is most likely going to have a manual transmission.  And I think it's cool to be able to drive a stick shift!

22.  I want to go for a hot air balloon ride.  I realize this is, yet again, another ridiculous goal since I am so afraid of heights.  But maybe I can wear a parachute...?

23.  I want to camp at a national park.  Preferrably somewhere like Yellowstone, or even along the Appalachian Trail.  I really want to experience the great outdoors.

24.  I want to be a contestant on Jeopardy.  I love watching this show and my hubby and I used to actually compete against each other and keep score.  I have gone to their web site to look at the sample tests they administer to determine eligibility to be a contestant, but the questions are random and ridiculously hard.

25.  I want to touch the Stanley Cup.  I am a die hard Detroit Red Wings fan and I love hockey in general.  I just want to be able to say that I was in the presence of and woman-handled the Stanley Cup.  That's not too much to ask, is it?  I might actually have to be dying for them to grant that wish...



26.  I want to see Haley's Comet.  I believe I will be in my early 80's when it comes back around again, so maybe my real goal here is to not kick the bucket before I'm 90?

You can check out this link if you need a little help in putting together your bucket list.

My Life... as directed by John Hughes

"His name is Blane?  That's not a name, that's a major appliance!"

"Bueller?  Bueller?  Bueller?"

"Relax, would you?  We have seventy dollars and a pair of girls underwear.  We're safe as kittens."

John Hughes, who was born right here in Lansing, Michigan, was an amazing director, producer and writer.  He created icons, like Duckie, Ferris Bueller, and Sam Baker.  I love his films and I've always wondered what it would be like to really live in the 80's.  What would it be like to have John Hughes direct my life...?

Could I pull off the feathered bangs, funky jackets, big jewelry, and flowered clothes? 

My favorite John Hughes movie has to be Pretty in Pink.  I love the scene where Duckie bursts into song at the record store!

Can you imagine if Jon Cryer spontaneously did this on an episode of Two and a Half Men?  Charlie Sheen would lose his mind...

What else would life be like living in the 80's with Hughes at the helm?  While his characters experienced a lot of drama, life seemed pretty simple.  Obviously we're talking about movies here, but this is my fantasy and if I want to believe that life was really like that in the 80's, no one can stop me!

The 80's were filled with Nintendo and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  Tight pants and leg warmers.  Vanilla Ice and M.C. Hammer.  The Wonder Years and Golden Girls.

No Facebook.  No smartphones.  Things were more personal 30 years ago.  "Fun" was bowling, listening to good music, painting your toe nails and gossiping with girlfriends, aerobics, and smoking pot.  So much has changed since then...

Maybe I can bring back leg warmers...  Wouldn't that be totally bodacious?

Just another sparkly vampire

I’m going to sound like a complete hypocrite writing this blog, but that’s okay.  I know that I am addicted to vampire novels and I also recognize how ridiculous and repetitious they all are.

For example...

Teenage girl meets sparkly “teenage” boy.
Girl falls madly in love with sparkly boy after two days.
Boy exhibits super human abilities while saving girls’ life.
Girl is oblivious.
Girl meets boys family.
Girls finds out sparkly boy is a vampire.
Girl immediately wants to be a vampire too.

Danger.

Drama.

Lots of heavy petting.
Girl becomes vampire.
The end.

Everyone assumes that Twilight was the original teenage vamp series and every other author just copied Stephanie Meyer.  Unfortunately, this is wrong.  Twilight was just the first to hit Hollywood. in a big way  I have read vamp novels by other authors that seem to have very similar plots and sequences of events, however, the copyright is years before Twilight was even published.  And at first I thought I wouldn’t enjoy these books because they seem so similar, but I’m obviously just addicted to vamp novels... as I previously stated.

I just recently finished reading the Argeneau series by Lynsay Sands, courtesy of my best friend’s library, and I loved every book.  Right now, I’m reading the My Blood Approves series by Amanda Hocking.  Just when I get to a point and think “Gosh, this is just like what happened to Edward and Bella!” the author twists the plot just enough and I get engrossed once again.

I don’t really understand the fascination with vamp novels.  There are 40 year old women that have fallen in love with Jacob Black and Edward Cullen.  These teens, and I emphasize TEENS, strut out on the screen with no shirt on and the women in the audience shriek like they just won the Publisher’s Clearinghouse sweepstakes. 

And I also don’t understand why we so easily accept these silly female characters.  These girls are clumsy and ridiculous, and then they just decide after meeting a new sparkly boy that they want to be bitten and then drink blood forever.  Why aren’t these girls afraid?  Didn’t their parents ever teach them not to talk to strangers?  Or not to walk down those dark alley ways alone?  Or to RUN away when someone is chasing them?!?!

Regardless, I will continue to read these vamp novels and I will continue to go see their Hollywood adaptations in the theater... even when I’m 40 and shrieking at the 17 year old hearthrob that is playing the sparkly vamp boy!

Vacation etiquette

At some point during this blogging hobby of mine, I will have the uncontrollable and undeniable urge to spew forth advice concerning any number of subjects or situations.  As some of you read through this, you may think this sounds a lot like complaining.  And to you, I say begone!  If you can't read this and mistakenly see it for the fake advice that it is, you won't genuinely appreciate it as such. 

Since I'm here in our nation's capital, an enormous melting pot of both residents and tourists, I decided to take this opportunity to slowly stick my big toe in and test the water.  This will be my trial run at giving "advice".

Picture ruiners:  This city is filled with national museums, historical sites, amazing architecture, and beautiful landscaping.  Everyone has crazy ridiculous cameras and 12 pound lenses nowadays, so we take pictures of everything!  It's like we all suffer from short term memory loss and we can't remember things we have seen unless we capture physical proof.  Let’s try to follow a few simple rules of etiquette when taking pictures and/or are in the vicinity of others taking pictures.

 

1.      Don’t stand 2 inches in front of the statute or painting you are photographing thus eliminating any possibility that others can also take a picture as well.  Also, I’m sure your 12 pound lens has 10 x zoom on it, so you don’t really need to be that close.

2.    Don’t spend 5 minutes staring at and photographing said statute or painting, which also eliminates any possibility that others can take a picture and enjoy the statute or painting.  No one needs 43 pictures of the giant sloth skeleton at the Natural History Museum.

 

On a similar note, don’t decide that the best place for you to stop and take a rest is right in front of one of these statutes or paintings.  You are ruining the whole experience for all of us.

3.    Watch where you are walking!  No one wants you strolling into their family picture in front of the Lincoln Memorial or a blurry image of your arm in front of their sepia toned picture of the National Gallery of Art fountain.

 

Walkers:  This may sound odd... right?  How could I possibly complain... err, give advice... about people walking?  The way I see it, you should walk on the sidewalk the same way you drive on the road.  And don’t stroll down the middle of the sidewalk making others walk in the grass or the street. 

Sign disobeyers:  Even though you may not speak or have the ability to read English, there is no excuse for this behavior.  Most of the public places we visited had very simple signs with symbols telling everyone not to touch things or not to use photography.  You may not be able to read “Do Not Touch!” or “No Photography”, but a picture of a camera with a red slash through it is a universal symbol.  Don’t play dumb with the “foreign” card. 

Unruly children:  Oh yes...  you know who you are.  Did you really think that your children would behave in the middle of a museum gift shop or near the fountain at the World War II Memorial when they clearly don’t listen to a word you are saying?  There are signs at these sites requesting quiet, respectful behavior for a reason.  Your child throwing a temper tantrum ruins the experience for me and everyone else there trying to relish in the moment.

 

 

If your child cannot behave, and you are incapable of quieting them, remove them from the environment.  This is plain and simple.  I realize that you and your children would also like to play the tourist role and see the sites, but it’s completely unfair for you to ruin everyone else’s vacation.  My only request is that you respect your fellow tourists.

Now that I have provided you with some simple rules of vacation etiquette, please feel free to share your most ridiculous vacation stories! 

A recipe for disaster...

Disclaimer:  I am not an artist in the kitchen.  I have a few things that I make exceptionally well, like lasagna and meatloaf.  And I’m capable of reading a recipe and making chocolate chip cookies and pecan pie.  Quite the opposite, I’m also capable of destroying the most simple edible concoctions.  For instance, I almost burned down the kitchen making microwave popcorn. 

I gave you that disclaimer so that you don’t go and take my blog seriously and then sue me later when you either burn down your house (you should always have a fire extinguisher in your kitchen) or singe off your eyebrows.  I know a good lawyer and I know how to use him!

While it is a little bit early in the year for this, I’m going to share with you my Thanksgiving Day recipes.  When we are done today, you will have made turkey, mashed potatoes with gravy, green bean casserole, dinner rolls, and pie.  I’m not getting fancy with yams and cranberry sauce.  You should NEVER put marshmallows on anything but a graham cracker with a Hershey’s chocolate bar square!

Step 1:  Prep your turkey for the roaster.  Make sure you buy the kind with the pop up timer because, if you’re like me, you will either undercook your turkey and give your family food poisoning, or overcook it and make your Mother-in-Law give you THAT look.  

Remove the turkey from the packaging and rinse it thoroughly.  There should be a little baggy of crap stuck up the turkey’s hind end.  Holler at your husband to come in the kitchen and ask him to politely remove it for you.  Then baste the turkey with olive oil and butter and sprinkle it with seasonings.  I usually use thyme, rosemary, salt and pepper.  Roast on 350 for approximately 1 hour/10 pounds.

Step 2:  Prep your green bean casserole.  Buy frozen green beans, Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup, and French’s fried onions.  Now, this is really simple... follow the recipe on the back of the Campbell’s soup can. 

Step 3:  Prep your potatoes.  Wash them., peel them, cut them into manageable chunks, put them in a pot with water, and boil them until tender.  Once you have drained off the water, mash them with butter, sour cream, and a little bit of milk.  Always sniff the milk first, just in case...

Step 4:  Gravy.  Yeah... I’m not even going to go there.  Your best bet is to make sure you invite your Mom to dinner.  When she comes in the kitchen to ask if you need help (and she will if she is a self-respecting Mom), say casually “Sure!  I was just getting ready to make the gravy.”  When you hand her the packet of powder gravy and a measuring cup for the water, she will scowl at you.  Then she will proceed to make fabulous homemade gravy from the turkey drippings and starch.  THIS IS WHY YOU ALWAYS INVITE YOUR MOTHER TO THANKSGIVING DINNER!

Step 5:  Dinner rolls.  Well, that one is easy!  Call Dad!  Did I forget to mention that my parents own a bakery?  Dad always brings his delicious dinner rolls for every holiday meal.  All you have to do is warm them up in the microwave so they are piping hot.

Step 6:  Pie.  I could also call Dad for this one, especially for the pumpkin pie.  But since my husband likes Pecan Pie, we are going old school on this one.  You could always Google a recipe, or look on the backs of cans in the baking aisle.  You are bound to come up with one eventually.  Just look for the Karo corn syrup bottle.  I’m going to share with you a recipe I found online:

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What you need:

1 pre-made pie crust
1/3 of a cup of packed brown sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons of all-purpose flour
1 1/4 cups of light corn syrup
1 1/4 teaspoons of vanilla
3 eggs
1 1/2 cups of chopped pecan halves
2 tablespoons of melted butter or margarine

Heat your oven to 375.

In a large bowl, mix together the brown sugar, flour, light corn syrup, vanilla and eggs.  Stir in pecans and butter.  Pour into pie crust (oh yeah, you should probably have already had the pie crust out and in a pie pan).  Bake for 40-50 minutes. 

Cool and enjoy!

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For more great cooking experiences, check out “My Drunk Kitchen” episodes or watch a great holiday episode below.  I absolutely love this girl!