Oh my goodness...she's done it again! I totally NEED this dress for Puckey!
Sugar Cookie Frock GIVEAWAY!!!!
Sugar Cookie Frock GIVEAWAY!!!!
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Enough already!
Okay, seriously. It could stop snowing ANY time now. I've been shoveling our driveway for almost 3 hours and have only gotten about 1/4 of it done. The places where I already shoveled are covered with about 2 inches of snow again....but if I DON'T shovel, we'll never be able to get out of the driveway!!
Good thing I went to the grocery store yesterday.
On the bright side - at least we should have a "white Christmas"...unlike the brown one we could have had because all of our snow had melted last week. But then again, this IS Michigan. So it could be sunny and 60 degrees tomorrow. (Those of you who live in MI know what I mean!)
Puckey is eating snow off of my coat as I type. She is an odd little duck.
Good thing I went to the grocery store yesterday.
On the bright side - at least we should have a "white Christmas"...unlike the brown one we could have had because all of our snow had melted last week. But then again, this IS Michigan. So it could be sunny and 60 degrees tomorrow. (Those of you who live in MI know what I mean!)
Puckey is eating snow off of my coat as I type. She is an odd little duck.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Did you know....
that if you have a container of GFS (Gordon's Food Service) Sliced Strawberries with Sugar sitting in your refrigerator for over a year with just a bit of juice and a couple of slices at the bottom of it, when you finally open it and dump the contents they will smell like champagne? Weird.
I mean, not that I would EVER have anything sitting in my fridge for OVER a year. That's preposterous!
I mean, not that I would EVER have anything sitting in my fridge for OVER a year. That's preposterous!
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Interesting...
I was reading Shelly's blog post that listed 32 things about her husband for his 32nd birthday. One of the things listed was the number of siblings he has...and he's an "only" child. Go read it!
So I started thinking about our blended family and our childrens' siblings....now, while our family isn't quite as large as Shelly's husband's, we do have an interesting mix.
Bubber, 14
So I started thinking about our blended family and our childrens' siblings....now, while our family isn't quite as large as Shelly's husband's, we do have an interesting mix.
Bubber, 14
- 1 sister (Bug)
- 1 step sister (Nans)
- 1 half brother (on his dad's side)
- 2 half sisters (Puckey & The Jib)
Bug, 11
- 1 brother (Bubber)
- 1 step sister (Nans)
- 1 half brother (on her dad's side)
- 2 half sisters (Puckey & The Jib)
Nans, 10
- 1 step brother (Bubber)
- 1 step sister (Bug)
- 3 half sisters (one on her mom's side, plus Puckey & The Jib)
Puckey, 3
- 1 sister (The Jib)
- 2 half sisters (Bug & Nans)
- 1 half brother (Bubber)
The Jib, 1 yr 10 mos
- 1 sister (Puckey)
- 2 half sisters (Bug & Nans)
- 1 half brother (Bubber)
Kinda interesting! I didn't even get into thinking about all the cousins and what-not. I myself have 2 step sisters, who have 5 children between them, plus my sister, who has two kids, plus Ande's brother, and his little ones....it gives me a headache just thinking about thinking about it!
Drama, anyone?
This morning, Puckey asked me to give her a candy corn. Yes, I do realize it's December, and yes, we DO still have a few lowly pieces of candy corn left in the candy jar in the kitchen.
When I told Puckey that she could not have a piece of candy corn, she fell (in slow motion so as not to actually hurt herself) to the floor, and cried, "I will run for my life, mama!" I would have taken a picture, but I figured it best to not encourage the situation.
Wow, if she'll run for her life over not getting a piece of candy corn, what on earth will she do when something that's a bigger deal than that happens?
When I told Puckey that she could not have a piece of candy corn, she fell (in slow motion so as not to actually hurt herself) to the floor, and cried, "I will run for my life, mama!" I would have taken a picture, but I figured it best to not encourage the situation.
Wow, if she'll run for her life over not getting a piece of candy corn, what on earth will she do when something that's a bigger deal than that happens?
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A little Puckey wisdom
Tonight was Bug's first band concert. For a bunch of 6th & 8th graders, it wasn't too horrible. Apparently, though, in order to get a seat at the concert, which started at 7:30pm, we would have had to arrive at about NOON today. It was ridiculously packed.
And for those people who are "seat savers" - don't you just feel like a jerk watching a huge crowd of people looking to squeeze in anywhere they can, while you sit there holding 6 spots open by laying your stuff all over the place and telling people "these seats are saved". Um, if people can't make it to the show on time, then make THEM stand. Let's not penalize those who show up 30 minutes (or more) early just because you apparently have nothing better to do than sit there hogging all the seats.
Okay, sorry about that - I just get annoyed about that kind of inconsiderate stuff. Especially when our family got dressed up to see the show and had to sit on the floor of the gym because Captain Sweatpants and his League of Ordinary Slobs managed to make it there before we did. Don't even get me started on how I did not see ONE SINGLE SOLITARY CHILD give up their seat for an adult.
Anyway...so we went to the show, and afterward we decided to go get something to eat (Thanks to Ande's dad, who gave us some money to get dinner!! Ande is so spoiled...). We went to Applebee's (1/2 off appetizers after 8:00pm - WHOO HOO!!) When we were getting ready to leave, Puckey wanted to "ride the horses" (this particular Applebees has two carousel horses as part of their decorations). I told her that she couldn't ride them, but that this summer when it was warm, maybe we could go to a fair and she could ride one.
We walked outside into theblizzard snow, and Puckey said, "It's warm in the restaurant.", to which I responded, "The horses in there aren't to ride, they're to look at." At which point Puckey, in all of her 3 year old wisdom stated, "They aren't MAGAZINES, mama! They're for little girls to RIDE!"
HA HA HA! She's so funny!
Oh, and unfortunately I do not have any pictures of the band concert, because of where we were seated. We waited to see Bug after the show so I could at least get a picture of her, but she went out a different door and was whisked off by her dad before I knew it. Nice, I know.
And for those people who are "seat savers" - don't you just feel like a jerk watching a huge crowd of people looking to squeeze in anywhere they can, while you sit there holding 6 spots open by laying your stuff all over the place and telling people "these seats are saved". Um, if people can't make it to the show on time, then make THEM stand. Let's not penalize those who show up 30 minutes (or more) early just because you apparently have nothing better to do than sit there hogging all the seats.
Okay, sorry about that - I just get annoyed about that kind of inconsiderate stuff. Especially when our family got dressed up to see the show and had to sit on the floor of the gym because Captain Sweatpants and his League of Ordinary Slobs managed to make it there before we did. Don't even get me started on how I did not see ONE SINGLE SOLITARY CHILD give up their seat for an adult.
Anyway...so we went to the show, and afterward we decided to go get something to eat (Thanks to Ande's dad, who gave us some money to get dinner!! Ande is so spoiled...). We went to Applebee's (1/2 off appetizers after 8:00pm - WHOO HOO!!) When we were getting ready to leave, Puckey wanted to "ride the horses" (this particular Applebees has two carousel horses as part of their decorations). I told her that she couldn't ride them, but that this summer when it was warm, maybe we could go to a fair and she could ride one.
We walked outside into the
HA HA HA! She's so funny!
Oh, and unfortunately I do not have any pictures of the band concert, because of where we were seated. We waited to see Bug after the show so I could at least get a picture of her, but she went out a different door and was whisked off by her dad before I knew it. Nice, I know.
Gift of the Manguys
I found this earlier today and laughed my head off (well, practically - if I was really missing my head, would I be typing this right now? I don't think so.) It's by Peter McKay, who cracks me up with pretty much every column he writes.
Creators Syndicate – We are now in the middle of the most stressful period of the year for your average American husband. It's the month when men are forced to wander the malls aimlessly, looking for something, anything, they can put under the tree on Christmas morning that will meet their spouse's expectations.
You see them clumping around, eyes glazed, like zombies with credit cards. In their daily lives, they might be engineers, lawyers, police officers, firefighters or even brain surgeons, but when it comes to Christmas shopping for wives, they're like deer facing an oncoming Mack truck. It would be as if you approached a normal everyday person and told them they had to compose a symphony or translate a passage of ancient hieroglyphics: The whole operation is too complicated to even begin thinking about.
Young guys can get away with gifts that show sincere thought and dedication but cost nothing. Years ago, when we were moving, we'd put all of our available cash down on our house right before the holidays. That year, I gave my wife a meticulously constructed little model I'd made of our new home. (I got her a house for Christmas, get it? Get it?) She loved it, and understood that we had no money for anything else that year, but we both understood it was a one-shot deal. Had I come to the tree the next year with another cardboard model of a house, she would have crushed it with one foot, like Godzilla going after a Japanese apartment complex.
Sure, there are some men out there, really rich older guys, who can be incredibly extravagant at Christmas. They're the ones they aim those luxury car ads at, the ads where the wife wakes up Christmas morning, pulls back the drapes and finds her husband has parked a brand-new silvery sedan, complete with a huge red bow, in the driveway. For 98 percent of American families, the kind who cringe when they open the bills, the joy would last for about 9.5 seconds, until the wife noticed the payment book under the tree and realized the kids weren't getting braces anytime soon and they'd both have to bag lunch at work for the next 48-54 months.
For those of us husbands who do our Christmas shopping at the mall instead of the car dealership, life is more mind-numbingly difficult. For husbands, getting a Christmas present says: "Hey, buddy, here's something free!" For wives, a Christmas present says: "This item symbolizes what I think of you!"
With pressure like that, nothing seems right. Clothes are a nice idea, but no husband in his right mind will actually pick out clothes for his wife. Select something far too small, and you've gotten a gift she can't wear. A size too big, and you'll get that evil stare that means "and just how &*(%)$ big do you think I am, mister?" Pick the exact right size, and you're in just as much trouble, as no woman on earth wants you to know her right size. The only way to win would be picking exactly one size (no more) too small. It's like trying to knock over a stuffed clown on the midway. You can't win, so don't try.
Handbags might seem like a good idea, until you go into the handbag department and find out there are hundreds of choices, each in a different size, style and label. With handbags, however, each designer means something, too. The bag has to look expensive, more expensive than you'd normally think a woman could afford, but not so expensive friends would assume it was a fake. Just trying to figure it out makes me feel dizzy.
Most years, I end up folding under the pressure and going to my old standbys: Bubble bath, slippers and bathrobes. My wife now has enough of these items that she wouldn't run out unless she decided to run a day spa out of our home.
So I'll be out there, with all the other guys with just enough money so they can't get away with thoughtful free gifts, but not enough available cash to park a luxury sedan in the driveway. You can find us all standing in line at the bed and bath store, arms filled with slippers, bathrobes and, of course, bubble bath, confused and frightened looks on our zombie-like faces.
To find out more about Peter McKay, please visit www.creators.com.
COPYRIGHT 2008 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.
I find this especially amusing, because a couple of years ago, Ande's mom asked him what he thought she could get me for Christmas. His idea? Towels. Lots and lots of towels. My guess is that he wanted us to get some new towels, but didn't want to waste HIS gift on household items. The next year, when Ande's mom asked what she should get HIM, I said, "Towels". I love that my mother in law has a good sense of humor!
Creators Syndicate – We are now in the middle of the most stressful period of the year for your average American husband. It's the month when men are forced to wander the malls aimlessly, looking for something, anything, they can put under the tree on Christmas morning that will meet their spouse's expectations.
You see them clumping around, eyes glazed, like zombies with credit cards. In their daily lives, they might be engineers, lawyers, police officers, firefighters or even brain surgeons, but when it comes to Christmas shopping for wives, they're like deer facing an oncoming Mack truck. It would be as if you approached a normal everyday person and told them they had to compose a symphony or translate a passage of ancient hieroglyphics: The whole operation is too complicated to even begin thinking about.
Young guys can get away with gifts that show sincere thought and dedication but cost nothing. Years ago, when we were moving, we'd put all of our available cash down on our house right before the holidays. That year, I gave my wife a meticulously constructed little model I'd made of our new home. (I got her a house for Christmas, get it? Get it?) She loved it, and understood that we had no money for anything else that year, but we both understood it was a one-shot deal. Had I come to the tree the next year with another cardboard model of a house, she would have crushed it with one foot, like Godzilla going after a Japanese apartment complex.
Sure, there are some men out there, really rich older guys, who can be incredibly extravagant at Christmas. They're the ones they aim those luxury car ads at, the ads where the wife wakes up Christmas morning, pulls back the drapes and finds her husband has parked a brand-new silvery sedan, complete with a huge red bow, in the driveway. For 98 percent of American families, the kind who cringe when they open the bills, the joy would last for about 9.5 seconds, until the wife noticed the payment book under the tree and realized the kids weren't getting braces anytime soon and they'd both have to bag lunch at work for the next 48-54 months.
For those of us husbands who do our Christmas shopping at the mall instead of the car dealership, life is more mind-numbingly difficult. For husbands, getting a Christmas present says: "Hey, buddy, here's something free!" For wives, a Christmas present says: "This item symbolizes what I think of you!"
With pressure like that, nothing seems right. Clothes are a nice idea, but no husband in his right mind will actually pick out clothes for his wife. Select something far too small, and you've gotten a gift she can't wear. A size too big, and you'll get that evil stare that means "and just how &*(%)$ big do you think I am, mister?" Pick the exact right size, and you're in just as much trouble, as no woman on earth wants you to know her right size. The only way to win would be picking exactly one size (no more) too small. It's like trying to knock over a stuffed clown on the midway. You can't win, so don't try.
Handbags might seem like a good idea, until you go into the handbag department and find out there are hundreds of choices, each in a different size, style and label. With handbags, however, each designer means something, too. The bag has to look expensive, more expensive than you'd normally think a woman could afford, but not so expensive friends would assume it was a fake. Just trying to figure it out makes me feel dizzy.
Most years, I end up folding under the pressure and going to my old standbys: Bubble bath, slippers and bathrobes. My wife now has enough of these items that she wouldn't run out unless she decided to run a day spa out of our home.
So I'll be out there, with all the other guys with just enough money so they can't get away with thoughtful free gifts, but not enough available cash to park a luxury sedan in the driveway. You can find us all standing in line at the bed and bath store, arms filled with slippers, bathrobes and, of course, bubble bath, confused and frightened looks on our zombie-like faces.
To find out more about Peter McKay, please visit www.creators.com.
COPYRIGHT 2008 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC.
I find this especially amusing, because a couple of years ago, Ande's mom asked him what he thought she could get me for Christmas. His idea? Towels. Lots and lots of towels. My guess is that he wanted us to get some new towels, but didn't want to waste HIS gift on household items. The next year, when Ande's mom asked what she should get HIM, I said, "Towels". I love that my mother in law has a good sense of humor!
Frankenmuth
(Subtitle: Chillin' with my Gnomies)
Last Saturday, Ande and I had a friend of ours and her two daughters come for dinner. After dinner, we decided to go to Frankenmuth to check out the Christmas lights and all. It was sort of rainy when we got there, so we didn't really walk around a whole lot.
I did want to take the girls to the Castle Shops in the Bavarian Inn - they have a couple of really cool little stores in there, including one that makes dolls. Like you can literally pick the features you want and get it made right then and there. (Maybe that's like the American Girl Store in Chicago? I don't know, I've never been there) I've always loved dolls, so I enjoyed watching how these ones were put together. If I were to start working again sometime, I think that would be a job I would enjoy. So maybe I enjoyed that store more than the other girls...LOL
Puckey spent most of her time in that particular store playing a mini-accordion. (It wasn't this exact one, but close)
It was pretty cute, and many of the customers commented on just how cute she was. (There were a few exceptions - I'm guessing those people would be the ones who don't even think puppies and kittens are cute.) Now Ande wants to get Puckey a little accordion. Watch out, Lawrence Welk Show - there may be a revival in the works! Ande's dad would be thrilled. LOL
While we were in the shops at the Bavarian Inn, we cracked up as the girls found one of those things that are painted with characters with cut-outs for people to stick their heads through. The theme was "chillin with my gnomies". (Which Bubber, my 14 year old, thought was totally lame - I thought it was hilarious) I, being the unprepared momma I am, neglected to bring my camera. Fortunately, our friend had a camera phone, so she snapped a few shots.
This first one of Puckey is my favorite.
Here's Jib. She didn't quite get the concept of "stick your head in the hole."
The girls and Puckey
All four of the girls - Jib again with the not sticking her head completely into the cut-out.
Afterwards, we stopped at Starbucks for a little treat. I have the feeling that the patrons in that particular Starbucks were NOT thrilled with the fact that there were four little girls in there giggling and being silly. Oh well.
I'm hoping to get the kids up to Bronner's sometime before Christmas, just because they haven't seen it before. If you live in Mid-Michigan, chances are you've at least HEARD of Bronner's. If you aren't from here, but come for a visit, you might want to check it out. It's GINORMOUS!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Have you ever seen this? OH MY WORD!
My aunt sent me a link to this in my email this morning. All I can say is I have N-E-V-E-R heard ANYONE do this song so well. EVER.
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