Black Friday

I love Black Friday shopping.

There. I said it.

Judge me if you like. Odds are if you're judging me over that, you're judging me about all manner of other things anyways. You're welcome for giving you one more.

Even though I'm at the store every other day (for food, milk, diapers), I don't do a whole lot of pleasure shopping throughout the year. Birthday gifts, clothes for the kids, occasionally something for me. That's pretty much it.

Black Friday gives me the ability to go out and get all the little things for myself, for my loved ones, for my pets, that I've wanted to get all year. And, it gives me time to do this all without children. Anyone who has gone to Target with a toddler and a 5 yr old should understand that pleasure.

I don't go nuts. I don't camp out overnight, I don't knock people down or shove people out of my way. You won't see me running or cutting in line. I don't go to Walmart, or Kmart, or any store that I'm against morally.

Will I be out at 8pm Thanksgiving night? Probably. Would those workers rather be anywhere but there? I'd guess so. But that could also be said for any other working day for them and everyone else.

We've made such a big deal about retail stores opening on Thanksgiving night. As though this is a new thing. Gas stations have employees round the clock, most grocery stores are open for at least a little while. Restaurants are open for those people who don't have family, don't feel like cooking, and wish to go out. Movie theaters have always been open on Thanksgiving. In fact, it's become a family tradition for us to go out and see a movie every year. Hell, even a lot of Starbucks are open. Zookeepers and animal caregivers still go to work - the animals don't care what day it is.

So what about those people? All those people and hundreds more, have and always will be working on Thanksgiving. And not just at night - when most families are finished with their meals and are lying around in tryptophan comas. All day. Every year. Even on Christmas and Fourth of July and all the other holidays we all love celebrating with family and friends (and alcohol).

I've actually talked to several retail employees that have told me they don't really care that they have to go to work at 7pm on Thanksgiving night. They're happy to have jobs. They're happy to be making money. It seems the most outraged people are those that don't have to and never have had to actually work on Thanksgiving. Why are we all suddenly becoming champions for people who have to work on Thanksgiving, when people have been doing it... always?

So I won't feel guilty tonight as I head inside Ulta, and Kohls, and the mall. When I'm checking out at Target, I'll be sure to give the employee a bright smile and tell them to have a wonderful day. Just because I love shopping on Black Friday doesn't mean I'm a horrible person. I'm not rude. I'm not greedy.

99% of the things I buy are for others. I even pick up my Toys for Tots gift for my kids to donate to the charity. And I'll also be gathering stuff for a stocking stuffer exchange at the YMCA. Just because I paid less for those things doesn't make them any less appreciated. And, this way, I am actually enjoying the experience.

Go ahead and judge me and all the other dedicated Black Friday shoppers. We'll be at the store.

Thankful for the Pain

 

Thanksgiving is next week, and while everyone else on facebook is listing their "30 days of thanks," my posts have remained strictly status quot (see what I did there?) It isn't that I'm not thankful for my keurig, or my husband, or my girls. I so, so am. But more than that, I'm thankful for the pain.
    2013 hasn't been the greatest year for me. After the loss of a close friendship I never saw coming, fate still had more blows coming for me. Some of them, you know about. Some of them, you never will. Internal and external struggles with anxiety and the reemergence of an insecurity that I'd thought long gone.
     One after another, it seemed like my world was crumbling. And then, just when I thought I was in the clear, another unexpected and still pretty unexplained loss of a friendship. Will it end with that? I really hope so.
     It has been crippling, view-altering. Despite the support of my husband, and my friends (or what's left of them) and family, I've felt alone and scared, angry and vengeful. After each trauma, I've thought, "I can't take anymore. I can't, or I'll break."
     And yet, I'm still here. Bruised, surely bloody, but not broken. Not dead and not, somehow, jaded. I still yearn to trust and to confide. I want to make new friends and reconnect with old ones - yes, even the assholes. The year hasn't crushed me. I'm still standing. I'm still here.
     How dare I complain about the past year? How dare I feel anything but thankful? After all, I have two healthy, happy girls, a spouse who loves me, family and a few friends who'd do just about anything for me. I have a home and a car and food. I live in a place where I feel safe and protected. I know all of this and I am thankful for these things. But that doesn't make the shitty things any less shitty.
    I'm not perfect, nor have I handled everything with grace and composure, but I'm dealing with things I never thought I could. I'm coping better than I ever hoped I would. And I've grown a new respect for me. I'm proud. I'm stronger than I ever knew I was.
    Instead of looking at the past year as horrible, I will remember 2013 as the year I survived. The year I grew because of, the year I learned from.

 

Vegetarian Five Bean Chili

Ingredients:

1 15oz can of Black Beans

1 15oz can of Dark Red Kidney Beans

1 15oz can of regular Kidney Beans

1/2 package of Frozen Veggie Mix - Corn, Carrots, Lima Beans, Green Beans

1 15oz can Stewed Tomatoes

1 1/2 cups Tomato Paste

1 1/2 cups Water

1 Onion, minced

1 1/2 TBSP Chili Powder

2 tsp Garlic Powder

Add Salt and Pepper to taste

Steps:

Rinse beans

Add everything to crock pot and stir

Turn on crock pot and let cook for 6-8 hours

True Love, and Why There Is No Happily Ever After

     As a little girl, I remember watching Disney movies. The prince and the princess would meet, fall instantly in love, overcome the obstacles keeping them apart, and get married - living together forever, happily ever after, with ease.

     Within my first year of marriage, I realized that true love isn't like that. After being together for only three months, my husband was deployed. We spent six of the first nine months of our marriage on different continents.
     I had just turned 18, had literally gone from my parents house to living with him (much like so many of those princesses). We didn't know what would happen when he got back home, and, I'm not gonna lie, it was hard. But we fought and we struggled and our love for one another persevered. Two years and two more deployments later, it had gotten easier, although never, by any means, "easy." 

     He was out of the military and we'd moved back to our home state. Naively, I thought this would be the beginning of that happily ever after. After three years of uncertainty, I though finally things would be simpler for us. But life isn't like that. Money, jobs, kids, family, frustrations, everyday stress; the next 8 years have proved to be just as trying, just as difficult in their own ways. 

     In the past eleven years, I've come to one conclusion: There is no "happily ever after." At least, not in the way we think. In the movies, Snow White and Prince Charming ride off in their horse to live together in peace and harmony. It looks like nothing will ever come between them.
     What we don't hear about is, years later, Charming develops a gambling problem and loses his job and their carriage gets repossessed and the castle is foreclosed on and Snow White goes back to living in squalor, only now she's got three children instead of dwarfs, and Charming has to work 18 hour shifts to make ends meet. We don't see that, years later, Ariel regrets her decision to become part of his world  and resents Eric. Or that Aurora goes out with the fairies one night and gets so drunk that she has a one night stand with a knight. 

     But their love is true, so Snow White forgives Charming, embraces their new life of poverty, and even gets a job working alongside him in the fields. Eric and Ariel find a marriage counselor and work through her anger and resentment, they buy a house on the sea, where she can visit her friends and family often. Phillip forgives Aurora, because he's made his mistakes too, and while they have trouble coming to terms with her infidelity, they're committed to making it work, and do.

     Because in real life, love isn't "happily ever after." It's joy and anger, pain and disappointment, hurt and forgiveness. True love is going through all the things life throws at you - things that are supposed to tear you apart - and coming out on the other side of it stronger, wiser, and even more determined.
     As the Hubbs and I celebrate our 11th anniversary, I will remember that just because Disney chose not to show us the hard parts, doesn't mean they didn't happen, as they happen to all true loves.

Taking the hard way...

     Today, I took the girls to meet with a friend at the mall. Things were going well, the girls were (for the most part) behaving. When it was time to leave, I told A she could pick out a book at the book store. She selected a Sophia the First book, which is one of the few princesses I don't entirely mind.
     Waiting in line to buy the book, A got out of our sit n stand stroller because she wanted to put the book on the counter. E started getting angry that A was allowed to walk around and yet she was stuck in the stroller like some kind of chump. Because of this, I asked A to get in the stroller and she could put the book on the counter from there. This is, apparently, where I went wrong. By avoiding a mini-tantrum from the 1 yr old, I inadvertently set into motion the beginning of a great, gigantic tantrum from the 5 yr old.
     After arguing with me (apparently she thought I thought she couldn't reach the counter without being in the stroller - and that was a direct threat to her ability to be a "big girl") we walk up to the counter and A chucks the goddamn book on the counter. Now, seeing as she is usually my good one (E throws things regularly), I was momentarily taken aback and thought it was an accident. But one look at her stubborn-set chin and fierce blue eyes told me that she'd done this deliberately. She was testing me.
     Game on.
     I pick the book off the counter and say, "If you don't apologize to the cashier, you will not be getting this book."
The waterworks started immediately. She grabs the book from my hand and tosses it on the counter again, while telling me that she won't apologize.
     At that moment, I had a decision to make. The tears were already here, the screams were likely on their way. I had a split-second to decide how I would handle this: Give in and buy the little brat her the book, or haul a very pissed off, very loud 5 yr old out to the car. Just glancing at the daring, almost menacing glare she shot me, gave me my answer.
     I calmly handed the book to the cashier, apologized and told him we wouldn't be buying the book. I'm not sure if he ever said anything. The screams had begun, and with them, came stomps on the stroller, mad words, and screeching pleas to let her say sorry so we could buy the book. As best I could, I ignored the disapproving looks from strangers as I pushed my stroller - complete with raging five year old.
     We got to the car, and A was still pissed at me. She got into the car and did the thing where the door didn't slam loud enough the first time so she kept opening it and slamming it shut again. After the third time, I put an end to that, too. We talked on the way home - after she'd calmed down - about her feelings at  the time of the incident, and how she felt afterwards.
     Now we're home, and I made she sure understood why she wasn't going to get the book. Not today. Not tomorrow. Perhaps not anytime in the near future. And as I recounted the story in my mind, I remembered the disapproving strangers and I questioned myself. Had I dealt with that scenario the "right" way? In the second I had to react and make a choice on how to deal with A and her 'tude, my first instinct had been to give in. Is that what I should've done? After all, it's only a book.
     But giving in would've been the easy thing to do. By giving into your child's tantrums, you're not only potentially creating a bigger problem for yourself, you're letting your kid down. Your job is to teach them how to function properly in society. To be considerate of others. To continue on and control your temper even if something doesn't go your way.
    So despite the judgmental glares and tsks of people I don't know, I stand by my choice. For my child's sake, I refrained from taking the easy way out. And I can only hope that, at the very least, she grew a little because of it. I know I have.

Goodbye

     Today, I said goodbye to my grandmother. Her passing was, all things considered, peaceful and love-filled. My sisters, mom and dad, aunt and uncle, and I were all present, in her room at the hospital as she took her final breath. I managed to say goodbye, though in reality, my mind hasn't quite grasped the full reality of it. "Goodbye" doesn't seem like the right word anyway. I will see her again, on another plane of existence. Or perhaps I'll encounter another who's been gifted with her reincarnated soul. In times like this, you can't help but wonder what happens when you leave this earth.
     Is there a place like heaven? So many religions speak of it, in so many different ways, that I can only hope it exists. Perhaps it's a separate plane. A place where you're full of knowledge and understanding. A place where you can watch your loved ones - the ones you left on the other side - as they go through their lives without you. If such a plane exists, I've no doubt that Gramma Esther and Grampa George are reuniting with joy. After being married for 54 years, and then apart for 9, I can only imagine their happiness at once again being together. Their relationship is one that has always inspired me and made me believe that true love exists. If ever there were soul mates, it was them.
     Gramma Esther had a severe stroke twenty years ago. I was only eight, so pretty much all I remember from that time is getting to the hospital in Pennsylvania and seeing my big, six-foot-something, ex-Marine of a Grampa cry. Something like that stays with you always, as did his eternal devotion to my grandmother. After the stroke, she had a lot of mobility issues. The stroke affected the left side of her brain, leaving her speech and motor skills gravely impacted. I remember (or perhaps just think I do from the stories I heard later in life) her wanting to die. She wanted to give up. But Grampa George was having none of that. He pushed her, every day, to try. I'm sure he got discouraged, but - like the fairy tales we once believed in but later grew too jaded to dare hope for - true love prevailed. His infinite patience left such a lasting impression on me. He and my Gramma Esther were soul mates; I've no doubts or questions about that. Even as he died, I know he worried for her.
     We all worried for her. In my mind, after the loss of a man who'd been your world for so long, I couldn't fathom her existence without him. Honestly, I thought that she'd give up and fade away from us. But damn if she didn't surprise me. She lived on, perhaps not enjoying every moment - as I often felt as though she was trapped in her own body - but she lived on to meet her great-granddaughters, which is not something everyone gets to experience. She appreciated everything we did for her - every time we visited, every gift we gave. She was loved - and I hope she always knew that and never questioned it.
     The end was mercifully quick. She went to the hospital 15 days ago, and something told me it would be her time soon. My mom and her sister stood by her, always vigilant, always making sure she got the best care. Her wishes prior to being admitted were clear. No extensive measures should be taken to preserve her life.     When I got there today, she was already gone. Not medically, but she wasn't in her body anymore. I have to believe that. I sensed her presence in the room, but when I looked at her, she wasn't my grandmother. Not Gramma Esther. Even with her physical limitations, she'd always had a Presence about her. She wasn't inside anymore.
     I like to credit her with some of my favorite personality traits I possess. Honesty, sometimes brutal honesty, is something I appreciate and admire. It's definitely an acquired taste, but Gramma Esther had it in spades and damn if I didn't love her all the more for it. Sometimes I felt she was the only voice of reason in a crazy, emotional family. She also saw humor in things most didn't - or couldn't. I loved that. Even the darkest days could have some sunshine if you looked hard enough.
     Their reunion must've been joyous. My grandmother, whole again, young and vibrant, embracing  her adoring husband after years of being apart physically. We will miss her here in our world, but I know she is where she's meant to be now.


***Sorry if this is scattered. I wrote it nearly 3 weeks ago, on the night of my grandmother's passing, and only just now am able to post - without editing.

Karma

And they're like, it's better than yours

Seven [attempted] Acts of Kindness

A lot of people in my town are participating it displaying seven random acts of kindness today as a way to celebrate the seventh birthday of a little girl who died alongside her 5 yr old sister this past February. Even though I didn't know the family personally, we had a lot of common friends and, as a mom, I feel horrible for their losses.
So when I received the Facebook invite to the Seven Acts for Sophie, I was happy to add my name to the "attending" list. I always try to commit random acts of kindness in my daily life. Even something as simple as holding the door open for a mom with a stroller full of kids can perk up someone's day (trust me, as the mom with the stroller full of kids, it's appreciated more than you could guess).
The day arrived, and I won't lie and say I did much pre-planning. I had a general idea of things I wanted to do, though.

#1
After the biggest monster went to school, I called and scheduled an appointment with the Red Cross to donate blood. Then the little monster and I headed off to the donation center.
We got there on time, checked in and took a seat. And waited. And waited. And... oh yeah. Waited. Finally, 45 minutes after my appt time, I asked how much longer it would take. To which the lab tech replied, "30-45 more minutes". Needless to say...

#2

I'd gathered a bag of canned and boxed goods, with the intention of dropping it off at the local food bank. I park, lug the little monster out of the car, and get to the door... only to find it locked. I knocked and waited around, but no one ever came. I'll deliver them later. 

#3

As E grew out of clothing, I'd put it in a comforter bag. Since today is a day for kindness, I decided to take it to the Planet Wear donation bin. I stick it in the top of the bin, push it closed... aaaaand it's stuck. 

#4

After the clothing/not fitting debacle, E and I decided to take a nap. Then it was time to pick A up from school. I needed to go to Target, and the only way I can survive Target with two children is by going to Starbucks first. I had the intention of paying for the car behind me's order as well (even said that when I "checked in") but then the poor woman just in front of me accidentally rear-ended the person in front of her. She was a mom, had a baby in her car and I could tell she was flustered. I thought...

to really make a difference.

I tell the barista working the drive thru (did I mention I was in the drive thru? That might've been important) and he said it was fine. She gets her free whatever and as I'm pulling up I realize.... 

I don't have my wallet.

I get to the barista (BTW, they know me there so this is extra embarrassing) and apologize eight ways from Sunday, promise that I'll run home and get my wallet. Thankfully, he didn't call the cops. Off I sped - have I mentioned that I live on the other side of town? 1/2 hour later, I returned, wallet in hand. 

So for acts #5-7, I will be staying hiding inside, safely making donations.

I don't regret one failed attempt at kindness. Sometimes shit happens and you have to laugh at it and move on. These were minor annoyances and if I made just one person's day a little brighter (hopefully the starbucks chick), then it was all worth it for the memory of a sweet little girl.

How to throw a Brave party...

For my oldest's 5th birthday, she requested a Brave party. While Disney has made some plates, napkins, favors and cups with Merida on them, the rest of the Brave collection pales in comparison to the other Princesses. So I decided to poke around on the old interwebs and here is what I did, as well as other ideas I found.

FAVORS:
I went simple for the favor bags. Dark blue paper gift bags from The Dollar Tree, and a printed tag on each one.

Here is a close up of the tag

I wrote out the names on each bag, and attached plaid ribbon (blue for boys, red for girls) on the handles.

Inside the bags:
When you think about Merida, you think about her bow and arrows. Instead of making each kid a bow out of PVC pipe like this  (that was WAY too ambitious for me, but looks super-cute), I decided to go smaller and found tiny bow instructions, using popsicle sticks (I bought the jumbo-sized ones since they seem a little sturdier), fishing line, a little hot glue and long q-tips for the arrows.
Supplies needed:
* Found theses Jumbo Popsicle Sticks (craft store, drug store, or Amazon)
* I bought these 6" wooden Q-tips (found in drug stores or, like me, purchased off of Amazon)
* This spool of Clear nylon fishing line (found at any craft store in the jewelry section or sports stop in the fishing/hunting goods, or you can buy on Amazon)
Here is the link for the Tiny Bow Instructions.
I decorated the bows with simple designs drawn on with markers. I cut the arrows down to about 5" each and created a groove in the bottoms of each of them so they'd fit nicely on the string. I also drew a line in each groove so it could be seen better.

I'm pleased to say that these little suckers shoot pretty darn well, too!

I found dark brown Teddy Grahams, Black Cherry gummy bears, and chocolate covered raisins. I created (via ipiccy.com and pizap.com) tags for them each (feel free to steal).

I printed them out on card stock and then (after adding the goodies to the bags) folded the tags in half and stapled them closed.

The end results looked like this:

chocolate covered raisins

teddy grahams

black cherry gummy bears

Supplies needed:

*Assorted goodies

*Card stock paper

*Printer

*Scissors

*Stapler

*Treat bags like this. (found at any craft store)

I also put Brave Fruit Snacks in the bags

The kids also got Brave Stickers (found at party stores, or online)

ACTIVITIES:
In keeping with the archery theme, I decided to make a target out of felt. My daughter has a Merida Bow & Arrow Set and I bought some Adhesive Velcro Tape and stuck it on the ends of the suction cups. The adhesive is sticky enough on it's own, so no additional glue should be needed.
Suggestion: Use some extra "pokey side" velcro to run over the felt target to get it ready for the arrows. Otherwise, I found the arrows did not stick well.
Needed Supplies:
*Big sheet of white felt, red felt, blue felt, and black felt - can be found at any craft store.
*A bow and arrow set like this or the Merida one.
*You can buy extra arrows online.
*Hot glue.
I also suggest you use a stencil. My target looked more oval and less circular (like Merida's was).

As you can see, our party was outside so I used our easel to hold the target up.

Bears play a big part in Merida's story, and I thought incorporating that, as well as bringing the witch's side job - wood carving - into the mix would be fun. I found these Bear Claw Necklace Kits. So the good news with these is that there are six bear claws in each kit. I went to the craft store and bought string and extra beads and then allotted each kid one bear claw.

Supplies Needed:
*Synthetic Bear claws
*Assorted beads - I used these from Joann
*Simple elastic stringing cord


Along with her bow, Merida is often seen riding her Shire horse, Angus. To bring the gelding into the party, I decided to do a Pin the Tail on Angus game. My husband gets most of the credit - okay, he did everything except buy the materials and think up the idea. He's a bit artsy and printed a picture of Angus out, drew grid lines on it and then did the same to a white poster board. It was all very Children's Activity Book, but genius nonetheless and saved us a bundle. For the tails, he simply cut them out of black poster paper.

Supplies Needed:
*Picture of Angus
*Pencil
*Ruler - one shaped like an L would be best
*White poster board
*Black poster board
*White eraser (to get rid of the graph lines after you've done the drawing)
*Black, fine-tipped sharpie (to darken the outline)
You could also color him in. My husband opted not to, though I still wish we had.

TREATS:
Since it was an afternoon party, we just had snacks (chips, humos, salsa, veggies, and drinks), along with a cake, cookies and cupcakes (in case there wasn't enough cake).

The cookies were made to look like targets with arrows in them.

To make the "arrows", I used regular wooden toothpicks. I cut triangles into red posterboard and hot glued the triangles onto the base of the toothpick.
For the cookies, I made simple sugar cookies. Be forewarned - that recipe makes a whole lotta dough!
I rolled them out and used a circle cookie cutter to make the targets.
While they were baking, I made this icing, which I love because it dries fast and hard and is even a little glossy. I made black, blue and red, leaving some white as well. I used icing bags to pipe the designs, working from outside in.
Supplies Needed:
*Tooth picks
*Glue gun
*Red poster board
*Ingredients called for in sugar cookie recipe and icing recipe
*Icing bags
*Blue, red, black food coloring
*Circular cookie cutter

The cupcakes, I made from the box and icing from the box, nothing fancy except I put them on a cupcake stand painted to look like a castle.
Here is the plain white cupcake stand. And this is what it looked like when I was finished.

I painted the entire thing with gray acrylic paint and once it dried, I used a black sharpie to create the "bricks" and then assembled it. Simple, cheap, and a heck of a lot easier than making fancy-dancy cupcakes.
Supplies Needed:
*White cupcake stand - can be found online or at any craft or party store
*Gray acrylic paint
*Black sharpie

A friend of mine made the cake (she's phenomenal).

DECORATIONS
I didn't do much in the way of decor. Just blue and purple streamers, light blue balloons and, I found the idea to make wisps out of ground stakes.

I cut holes in the middle of a square of cellophane for the stake to go through, then gathered it at the top and closed it with a twisty tie.

Supplies Needed:
*blue cellophane
*Ground stakes
*twist ties

The Stocking Dead

Fears of Tears

      I am not a crier. Crying makes me uncomfortable and I don't think it accomplishes anything really. I know people who cry specifically to get sympathy (other than four year olds) and that is something I am even more uncomfortable with. I don't need anyone's sympathy. If I'm so upset over something that I'm actually crying, the last thing I want is your sympathy.
      I don't think there is anything wrong with crying - for other people. Yes, I feel awkward around it but if someone is really upset about something, the tears kind of escape. For me, crying shows weakness; but I don't believe other people are weak if they are crying. I mean, full-blown blubbering over insignificant things will irritate the hell out of me - almost as much as someone bitching about a problem over and over but never really taking the steps to do anything about said problem.
       But just because I don't fall down into a fit of sobs does not mean I am not hurting. Just because I don't turn sullen and melancholy doesn't mean I'm not sad. Just because I choose not to dwell on things that make me unhappy when I'm awake and around others doesn't mean I don't think about it. I smile instead of frown; laugh instead of cry.
       Sometimes, if I'm really hurt, I'll get mad. And not simple I'll just avoid you kind of mad. I mean scowl and shoot-you-daggers when you're around. I mean pointedly ignoring you and doing my best to make sure you don't forget me. Maybe that isn't the most mature, but I'm hurting. YOU hurt me.
       I'm really good at hiding my emotions from everyone, including myself. There will be times that I know I'm mad but I don't know at whom or why. If and when I figure it out, and its someone close to me, I address whatever situation has made me upset. Know why? Because I feel that those people close to me deserve to be made aware of the things they did. Because I value our relationship and because I respect you enough to not tell you blatant lies and deny that our relationship was any less important than it really was.
       So no; you probably won't catch me with the light glinting off of tears welling in my eyes. Odds are good you won't even hear me say that I've been hurt. But know that I have been hurt; I am still hurting. And you are the one who hurt me.

For the Trekkie nerds in my life

The following conversation took place on twitter while Astronaut Chris Hadfield was in space. 

  

 

 Link to space interview between Astronaut Chris Hadfield and William Shatner