"Merry Christmas Darling, Happy New Year Too..."

You know that Karen Carpenter song? I love it so much. Just between you and me, I am tired of hearing Christmas songs, but I am compulsively listening to them because in a couple of days they will be gone completely for another whole year.

I hope y'all are having a wonderful and relaxing holiday. We are celebrating with Nonna and Mommy and Daddy Lipstick tomorrow. Here are a couple of pics of our celebrations so far.I am putting (another) monogrammed bracelet on Pretty Girl in this one.
My favorite Power Ranger.
Cyberhugs to you all!

Merry Christmas Meltdown

Tonight when JBB was supposed to be getting out his PJs and putting away his toys, Mr. Lipstick and I heard the craziest screaming and wailing. I semi-raced upstairs and found JBB laying prone on the floor of his closet and crying so hard that he was scarcely pausing for air. I picked him up and tried to calm him, all the while trying to decipher what he was saying.

The cause for all the drama? "Mommy, what if Santa doesn't know how to make a red Power Ranger costume?!" While I may or may not have giggled in spite of myself, I am happy to report that Santa delivered one red Power Ranger costume to Lipstick Manor three weeks ago.

And finally, a special thank you to the folks at Norad for tracking Santa's progress. Bath time was made possible by the irrefutable knowledge that Santa was in Venezuela but headed for the U.S.

It's All up to Me

This year I am working Christmas Eve and the day after Christmas. It sounds awful at first, but what this really means is that this will be the very first time we have had our own Lipstick family Christmas. All activities will occur at Lipstick Manor and will have four attendants-Mr. Lipstick, JBB, Pretty Girl, and me.

Growing up, every Christmas was wonderful, loving, relaxing, magical. I remember the warmth of the house; the smell of the food; the sounds of laughter, Christmas music, and football in the background; and of course, the presents. Nonna and Mother Lipstick were masterful at creating that cozy ambiance, and I was the direct beneficiary. I can remember those Christmases in vivid detail. When I relive them in my mind, a sense of bliss, contentment, and love envelops me like a fuzzy blanket.

This year I am the one responsible for doing the cooking and making the atmosphere. I'm excited, and I feel all grown up. At the same time, I feel intimidated by my childhood Christmases. I bear the responsibility of creating the Christmas memories for JBB and Pretty Girl, and I want theirs to be as wonderful as mine. I have planned the menu, of course, and the "schedule" is filled with plenty of time for playing with new toys and falling asleep while watching holiday movies. I have to confess that I am just as excited about going back home next week to celebrate Christmas there. I'm sure I'll be tired of feeling grown up by then, and it will be fun to enjoy the magic created by the true masters of ambiance, Nonna and Mother Lipstick.

Not Worth It and Never Again

From this day forward, I can most assuredly declare that there is no item or collection of items desirable enough to necessitate a visit to Wal*Mart. I went to the great purveyor of all things Made in China this evening searching for a few simple items that I didn't find at Target.

In doing this, I broke the first retail rule of all suburban mommies:
If Target doesn't have it, then you don't need it.

As I entered the not-so-super center, I was nearly blinded by the harsh fluorescent lights. The assault on my senses continued as I navigated through jewelry and photo to the electronics department. I found only one of the items that I "needed" and promptly returned to the front of the store. All of the check-out lanes were moving at an imperceptible rate, so I decided to look in the book section. I bought Twilight because I can't resist knowing what the fuss is all about.

I suddenly realized that if I went through the self check-out, I could avoid social interaction. I did not realize that I would be needlessly detained behind people for whom scanning a few items was akin to launching a cruise missile. I felt all of the energy drain from my body as I waited. And waited. Finally I was finished and I raced to my car like a person being chased by demonic forces.

Of course, a post about Wal*Mart just wouldn't be complete without including the infamous Wal*Mart Bingo.Judging from tonight's experience, WM Bingo is disturbingly accurate, as a representative from each negative stereotype was present.

One final thought...if the BMI of Wal*Mart's patrons is indicative of that of the entire United States, then the executives of the fast food industry will never be found on Capitol Hill asking for a bail-out. I am not sure which investment would be more profitable--fast food or diabetic testing supplies.

What Happened in the Bedroom

I've been awake since 3 a.m. I want to write so badly, but I lack coherence. I would probably end sentences with prepositions and ramble on with careless abandon. Syntax would suffer and there would be no discernible train of thought.

In my aimless surfing on the internet tonight, I did find a couple of delightful things.I love pink. I love green. I really really love it when they are hanging out together.
My kind of eye candy.

Technical Difficulties

Sigh....I like the Hello Kitty template, but it distracted me. Now I am tinkering around with templates and playing with HTML. I hope it's not a complete disaster.

Reunited and It Feels So Good

Last week Mr. Lipstick was out of town, and it nearly drove me crazy. He is the embodiment of safety and security to me, and when he is away, I feel lonesome and skiddish, incomplete and out of sync. I didn't sleep well, and even the benign creeks of the house sounded menacing. My loneliness was exacerbated by mounting fatigue.

When he arrived home, I raced out the door and rushed into his open arms. I crave him with an intensity that is difficult to define. This afternoon as we were snuggled together on the couch watching the House, M.D. marathon with only the gentle light of the Christmas tree in the distance, I felt so tranquil. Welcome home, Mr. Lipstick. I love you dearly.

ETA: Welcome to my new template. The Following feature is now working, but I have to redo my blogroll. Don't worry y'all...it's coming back!

Sawdust Rooster

Nonna has lots of funny sayings like "well that is just a bunch of who shot John" and "he was so drunk he couldn't hit the ground with his hat." In my life, I've had laryngitis about a million times and without exception Nonna has always said, "well, sweetie you sound just like a sawdust rooster." Currently I have no voice (apologies to my cool At Work Friend who had to answer extra pharmacist calls today). I have received lots of gracious sighs and pitying glances though and more than a few "bless your heart"s and I can report that it is oddly fun to communicate with smiles and made up sign language.

In other news...many thanks to my wonderful readers for your kind comments about my previous post. How could I possibly follow that? Well, with a picture of Tommy Lee, of course. You know how people say that tattoos are addicting and once you get one, you are just compelled to keep going until you are covered in koi fish and dragons and tribal stuff and Asian letters and black and white portraits?

Well, I think cutting your hair is like that. A couple of months ago, my hair was verrrrrry long. High school cheerleader-y long. I got it cut to the super safe shoulder length and then a little shorter and then today...After an appointment with my always fabulous and fun Stylist, I had to pose in front of my shower curtain and engage in a little self-portraiture. I feel grown-up and chic and blissfully free. I just hope I can fix it in the morning.

I am happy to report that my ankle is all better. I know y'all have just been waiting with bated breath for that update. As it turns out, when I wear comfortable shoes, my feet feel better. Since I reluctantly reached this earth-shattering conclusion, I have decided to order these from Zappos.They are not gorgeous and if my favorite moose-huntin' mama Sarah Palin had worn these on the campaign trail, everyone would have fun of them. Thank goodness I am not on TV and all of my fashion ridicule will occur locally. Hey Crotchety, do you think Crotchety Old Lady would approve of these? I think we are sole mates.

And lastly, an update about Pretty Girl. She has discovered the word "no" and she shakes her head from side to side and smiles this big mega-watt Tom Cruise-ish smile. It is simultaneously frustrating and adorable.Even she is worn out.

I Want, I Need, I Have to Have

 

I love stuff. I like new stuff and especially old stuff. There is a special place in my heart for sparkly stuff and fuzzy stuff and stuff with glitter. I like to take out my stuff, look at it, and moan about how difficult it is to organize so much stuff.

I am not alone. Our society is awash in ostentatious consumerism. We even like to watch it all on TV. From "Fabulous Life of..." and "The Real Housewives" we are eager voyeurs of those who can Spend and Accumulate on a grand scale.

The sense that you are well off can shift and slide depending on your present company. There is always someone who would just kill to have your salary, as well as someone who could thoughtlessly spend it in a day.

I am a little ashamed of my cushy existence and that I only recently have thought to be thankful for the following things...things that I should have never taken for granted.

-My car. I don't have to navigate our city's inconvenient public transportation. Ever. Not in the hot, the cold, with kids, with groceries, between multiple doctor's appointments or jobs.

-My job. Five hundred and thirty-three thousand jobs were lost last month. I have the luxury of juggling one career, a faithful hard-working husband, and two beautiful and healthy children. I don't have to raise my children alone or work two or three jobs.

-My closet. In my closet you will find a wardrobe filled with clothes spanning several sizes. Actually this is just a subtle testament to the fact that I have enough food, that I can consume as much as I could ever want, and that I only go hungry when I choose.

With all honesty, I can tell you that I view each of the aforementioned things as basic, fundamental, even vital to my existence. I can be greedy and desirous, but these days I am experiencing something new and wondrous. It is called Contentment, and it can be yours for the low, low price of just imagining your Stuff and then imagining that it wasn't there.

There's Not Enough Money in the World...

To make me want to be a podiatrist.

I went to Dr. Foot yesterday because my left ankle has been hurting for four months. Three tendons and some ligaments are inflamed. An insert for my shoe, some Biofreeze, and more ibuprofen should fix me. I report back in two weeks.

I was terrified to be there because that's just the sort of thing that causes me to freak out. I was embarrassed to be sporting the "it looked good in August pedicure" and I don't like to have anyone touch my feet.

After all the pushing and stretching, Dr. Foot told me that I have bunions too. What??? I thought only creaky old people had bunions. This is not true. Apparently young-ish women who love MAC lipliner and blogging have them as well.

Then there was the scraping. You know all those really hard, tough bits of skin that make high heels more bearable...they are gone now. Filed away. I felt nauseated and squirmy. And even though I am prone to over-reacting (shocker), this was a nauseating and squirmy situation.

Overall, Dr. Foot was extremely knowledgeable, thorough, and graciously spared me from having to wear one of those horrible Darth Vader ortho-boots. The staff was very kind too, and interestingly the entire office smelled like cinnamon. I don't know what my insurance company paid Dr. Foot, but I don't think it's nearly enough.
BEFOREAFTER

Real or Fake? Colored or Clear?

I think real trees are a fire hazard. It doesn't really matter that I have seen the Mythbusters guys demonstrate that a real tree is safe. Mommy Lipstick believes that having a live tree is akin to decorating with gasoline and a match, and therefore I believe it too.

The dynamics of fire aside, there is another matter that is highly personal...the color of the lights. I know that some people think that colored lights are tacky and redneck. I was raised with them, and for no other reason, I think they are beautiful. I could just stare at the tree for hours. After all, those lights cast such a warm and ambient glow across my computer screen.

I have always had trees like thisand this
but this Black Friday as I was helping Mommy Lipstick erect her faux tree, Daddy Lipstick discovered that the colored lights didn't work. For some reason, they had 1200 clear lights. Daddy Lipstick and JBB festooned the tree and voila...Turns out that clear lights are really bright. The ornaments are extra sparkly this year thanks to all those tiny spotlights.

So...what about y'all?
And one final thought, do you remember when putting up the tree the day after Thanksgiving was considered really, really early? Now it's practically late.