Jingle Meme

The easily blushing Ron tagged me so here goes nothing.

Rules for the game include:

1) Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
2) Share Christmas facts about yourself.
3) Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
4) Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Welcome to the Christmas edition of getting to know your friends.

1. Wrapping or gift bags? I love the look of beautifully wrapped packages under the tree. Alas, my wrapping skills are not up to par and my tree ends up looking like Charlie Brown’s…..

2. Real or artificial tree? Growing up the tree was always artificial due to my allergies. As an adult, my German insists on a real tree (after all the Germans were first with trees in their house). We are tree-free this year as we do not have the Bubbie.

3. When do you put up the tree? On years with trees it goes up around the second weekend in December.

4. When do you take the tree down? The tree stays up until the epiphany on January 6th (better known as the 12th day of Christmas).

5. Do you like eggnog? I like my homemade version with bourbon and brandy in it. It probably is about a squillion calories a sip though….

6. Favorite gift received as a child? I always enjoyed all my gifts.

7. Do you have a nativity scene? Nope because the one I want is way too pricey.

8. Worst Christmas gift you ever received? Just for the sake of putting something down here I will have to say I was never a fan of my Mrs. Beasley doll.

9. Mail or email Christmas cards? Neither because I suck this year.

10. Favorite Christmas Movie? “It’s a Wonderful Life”… I watched it before Ted Turner prostituted it and colorized it.

11. When do you start shopping for Christmas? I usually get it all done prior to Thanksgiving. This year I started on 12/11. I suck (refer to # 9 above).

12. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas? Food!

13. Clear lights or colored on the tree? I love the multi-colored lights; however, my German is a purist and wants only white…. (Please do not insert any jokes in there, I know I left myself wide open.)

14. Favorite Christmas song? "Merry Christmas from the Family by Robert Earl Keen and "Oh, Holy Night" sung by Andre Bocelli.

15. Travel at Christmas or stay home? Does driving seven miles to my parents’ home really count as traveling?

16. Can you name all of Santa’s reindeer. They call them Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen… Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen. And yes I recall… THE most faaaaamous reindeeer of allll… Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I am keeping Ron’s most excellent answer…

17. Angel on the tree top or a star? It used to be a large burgundy and gold bow that draped down the tree. However, when the Bubbie was four he took one look at it and deemed it “annoying”. That year it became a star that has Bubbie’s seal of approval. Sigh…

18. Open the presents Christmas Eve or Christmas Morning? Growing up we opened presents when we came home from Midnight Mass.

19. Most annoying thing about this time of year? Hideous Christmas sweaters, crowds and fierce traffic at the malls.

20. Do you decorate your tree in any specific theme or color? Nope, just with whatever crap I have had for years. Trust me, I am not that fancy.

21. What do you leave for Santa? Traditionally I left milk and cookies. For some reason unbeknownst to me or my German, the Bubbie insists we leave out beer and cheese. Now I am thinking Newscoma may come sliding down my chimney!!

22. Least favorite holiday song? “Santa Baby”

23. Favorite ornament? The green ornament with a barely recognizable question mark on it made of glue and glitter. Mama made it when she was six months pregnant with me December of 65.

Tag, you’re it: Sista, Sara Sue and Kerstin

Letter to a 13 year old me....

The rules are simple:
* Link back to the person who tagged you. And that would be the lovely Kerstin
* Send a letter back in time to your 13 year old self.
* Tag 5 more people to do this meme.

Dear Klinde,

What a long, strange trip it has been…. I am coming to you from my 41st year in life to reach out to you in 1979 when you were a mere 13 year old struggling with leaving Texas and moving to Tennessee. I know it was a tough move for you, but hey, you could have wound up in Des Moines so it really is not that bad.

You will experience many challenges leaving south Texas that you really did not expect. You will learn neighbors will not let their children play with you because you are Catholic. I know you will not understand that because I still do not. You will still be proud of the fact and not hide from it regardless of the outcome. You will learn that Tennessee public schools suck as opposed to those in Texas. You will have little to no homework. You should apply yourself a bit more and keep enrolling in the honor courses because they will teach you a great deal more and help you learn to study when you are in college because you certainly do not have good habits in that.

You will try too hard to fit in with the “in crowd”. Your ADD will rear its ugly head and you will struggle with being way too hyper in situations. You will not make varsity cheerleader the first go around; however, you will the years following. Please do not define yourself by finally making it to the cooler group of people. You will not keep in touch with any of them within a year of graduation.

When you are 16 you will have your first real boyfriend. You will be with him on and off for nine years. You will learn a lot about what it is you truly want out of a relationship. You will keep in touch with him a couple of times a year – especially on birthdays, but not really more than that.

You will have a difficult time in college. During a sabbatical from the nine year relationship you will fall for a guy you think is so very cool…. Run, do not walk, away!! And quickly! He is a drug dealer. He will beat the shit out of you on a regular basis and he will hold you hostage in his house. No one will come to your rescue because he makes you call your parents regularly and they have no idea. If you mess up again and get into this, escape on your very first opportunity! Run like the wind and do not look back! His rationale of doing this because he “loves you so much” is a bunch of shit. Don’t buy into it. Love does not hurt like that.

As you get older you will make many mistakes with men. Falling for them too quickly, moving in with them. You need to realize that you have to love yourself first before you can truly love and be loved by someone else. It is a difficult lesson to learn and it may take you many years and many frogs.

Regarding your first husband… Don’t beat yourself up too badly for having married him. I was there… I remember thinking it was time to get married because I was 29 and all my friends were married and had babies. That is not the reason to marry someone. He was not a bad man, just a bad choice of husband for you (I mean me, uh, er, us). However, the strength and grace you have as you leave him after his affairs and divorce him sets a tone and you finally realize your self-worth. Perhaps without that experience I would not be the woman I am now. And as an added bonus, if you would not have left him, you would not have been there when Daddy was home and had his heart attack. Daddy would have died but you saved him. This will be one of your proudest moments and it will bond the two of you in a way that you have never experienced to date.

When the German first tells you he loves you, quit pushing him away and treating him so badly the first year. Quit telling him to leave you alone. Remember, he is going to come over on May 2, 2004 and clean your gutters at the house. You are going to take him to dinner to thank him and he is never going to leave and you are going to be very happy with that situation.

Other miscellaneous notes:

* Spend time with your family. Mama is going to be diagnosed with lung cancer in 2006. You are going to be devastated. You are going to push through it. You are going to thank God for each and every day you still have her.

* When you first go on antidepressants, stay on them. Your mood swings will be much more controllable.

* Stop spending money like you have an endless supply. Put a bunch in your 401k.

* Don’t start smoking again when you leave the ex-husband. It won’t make anything better.

* Remember to be grateful for the blessings in your life.

* Do not be upset that you can not have biological children. There are far worse things that could happen and these things happen for a reason. Whether or not you understand the reason is a completely different matter.

I hope this has helped you get a glimpse into what is to come. There will good and bad; however, there will also be incredible moments. Relish them and enjoy the ride!

Love,
Klinde


I am tagging:

Gingersnaps
SaucyGrrl
Jag
Kristina
CP

I rule!

Yet another eventful weekend has come to pass. The Bubbie made his arrival Wednesday evening. The German, his father, made his departure (work-related) on Thursday morning. Two full days of being Munchkin, step mom extraordinaire. Yes, he calls me Munchkin. Yes, I am short. I like it though!

Well day one of single Mommy went well. I picked him up after work from my parents. We went and had Mexican. I made him try guacamole. He did not like it. I am not sure if we can still be friends due to this but I will find a way to get over it I am sure. We get home and one of us gets a hot bubble bath. Sadly that someone was not me. I get to check homework, find something suitable on TV, find a book for him to read aloud to me and make my lunch for the next day. Mission accomplished as he is clean, there is a book, homework is all good and we are both in our jammies. Life is good. I am exhausted. I am not used to this. I have a hard enough time taking care of myself, thank you very much.

The next morning my father arrives at 6:30 so I do not have to go about 20 miles round trip in the wrong direction. I check in on Bubbie before my departure and he is awake (much to my father’s chagrin). We snuggle a moment, get in our hugs and kisses and I prepare to depart. As I let go of that cherubic face I tell him I love him. For the first time ever he says “I love you too, Munchkin”. I melt and can now face the day.

That evening I get to my parents house after a quick run to Kroger. I have realized that I have nothing for this child to take home for St. Nicholas Day on December 6th. I also need to get dinner for us both....

I run over to the folks house, bustle the kiddo into the car and scoot on home. I have a special treat for dinner…. All of you who are parents are going to die… I gave a seven year old 3 HUGE scoops of Cookies-n-Cream for dinner. Yep, you heard right, that was dinner. You can bet your bottom dollar he cleaned his plate (bowl actually) too.

I got a really big kick out of watching the sugar buzz kick in. I asked him if he needed to run and his answer was “yep”. So run he did… And run, and run, and run. That lasted about 2-3 hours. In between sprints we giggled and told silly stories. We were waiting for his Papa to come home. The German finally made it home close to 11p. As punishment, I had to sleep with a sugared up 7 year old. I told the Bubbie it was our secret and that each time he came for a visit he could have one crazed evening involving junk food for dinner. I think he is now my biggest fan because that is when he blurted out "my Munchkin rules!!!".

The purpose of his visit (aside from time with us) was to attend a kid’s Christmas party at the German’s company. Talk about fun! Once I find the cord, I will download photos and you can see what I am talking about… It was awesome! I got my face painted as did Bubbie. We jousted, we rode the slide, we had balloon animals, we had a family caricature drawn that he took back with him to hang in his room at his Mom’s house.

All in all it was great. Even the kitty did not seem to mind him that much. Which is highly unusual for her....

For all you parents out there, I bow to you. I am pooped.

Back to normal programming

I did not mean to take a blogging hiatus. Life has an annoying habit of getting in the way of things you mean to do. There has been an onslaught of things to do personally. The German and I have been preparing for the arrival of the Bubbie on Wednesday, November 28th. He is coming in for a children’s Christmas party that the German’s company throws annually. He goes back home to Jersey on Sunday, December 2nd.

The downside is that the German has to be out of town the Thursday and Friday that the Bubbie is here. I am pissed. Mind you, not at the German. It is not his fault. He told people a while back that his son was going to be here and that he could not travel during that time. We get the Bubbie infrequently. We have only seen him 16 days this entire year. And now that we get him for just four precious days, my German has to go out of town on business. Bubbie lands the evening of the 28th. The German has to depart either before Bubbie arrives or around 4a on Thursday. It slices his time with his son in half and I am livid.

Don’t get me wrong, I know this is not anyone’s fault. Business is business and something came up. I know that is out of everyone’s control. It just makes my heart ache for my husband and his son.

I love my step son with my whole heart. My parents adore him as he is the only grandchild they will ever know. The Bubbie even calls them Memere and Pepere which is the Cajun names for grandparents. He loves spending time with them and is spoiled completely rotten by them and my 86 year old Nana who lives with them. Who would not want that kind of attention? Of course my parents are utterly exhausted each day they watch him while I work (I wiped out my vacation in March going to Hamburg to meet my German’s parents).

Basically I needed to vent. I wanted to go visit my other friends in bloggyland as well after my two week stint of being offline. There will be more later on the visit as it is always a good time when the Bubbie comes to visit… Unless of course you are my cat... She remembers the previous visit.

A present for me

A couple of my friends from work went on vacation together to New Mexico to visit a mutual friend of ours. During their brief stay they bought me an incredibly beautiful finger rosary made of wood. It is lovely and feels very good in my hands. The wooden beads feel warm if that make any sense. The smoothness makes my fingers want to dance over each bead.

They got it at the Loretto Chapel in Sante Fe. If you have not heard of this place you need to check out the story of the staircase. It is remarkable whether you believe in this type of thing or not.

The finger rosary my friends got me is from the same type of wood. The story that goes along with it is as follows:

The finger rosary is sometimes called an Irish rosary. It originated with the Irish. 450 years ago, Great Britain pass a law stating that anyone caught praying the rosary would be put to death. So the Irish put 10 small knobs and a cross on their wedding bands. They prayed with them for over 300 years without getting caught. That was repealed in about 1850.

Venting

I am tired of the commentary I hear about my black eye. I am sick to death of anyone thinking my husband may have done this to me. I have documented how I did this. My husband was out of the country when it happened. My parents know this and I really should quit letting people get under my skin about this.

I am not an idiot. I know when people see this bad of a bruise (especially on a woman’s face) they naturally assume someone punched you. I know because I am guilty myself.

Let me set the record straight. This is the eighth (yes, 8th) black eye I have had during my 41 years on Earth. My last one was from a whitewater rafting incident when the idiot in front of me let go of his T-grip and it rammed into my eye. Said idiot is my ex-husband. Nuff said about that….

The other six were at the hand of an abusive asshole that I dated in college. Aside from the six black eyes I sport 54 (count ‘em, campers) scars from him. That was 21 years ago. To say it jaded me is an understatement. It changed how little or how much I trust others (namely men) is what it did. Never again will I be in a situation where I am belittled, intimidated, much less frightened for my very existence. Let me be clear, NEVER AGAIN!!!

I have known the German for 14 years. We have been together 3.5 years of that time. He may come across as a bit rough around the edges, but when it comes to me he is gentle as a lamb. He would never lay a hand on me. Not even in jest. He knows I still carry too much baggage from that. He knows the fragility of my psyche.

What hurts is that those who do not know him would think such a thing. I see people point and whisper. I have heard the rumors from other people. I am sick to death of it. You may not have met my husband so know that I am not the kind of woman who would tolerate abuse, mentally, physically, spiritually. Been there, bought the T-shirt. My husband is not the kind of man would inflect it. Nor would he abide such behavior towards me or any human being.

If you want to know what happened to my eye, ask me. I am a klutz and will tell you as much.

A few days late.

So I am little behind in my blogging... That and I keep neglecting to download the camera from the Halloween party mein Deustcher and I went to on the 27th. So without further adieu I give you photos of the party...

It wouldn't be a party without a British pirate doing a keg stand... He lives in Germany and works for my German's parent company. What a way to introduce him to an American holiday (they do not celebrate Halloween in Germany).



In case you do not recognize us, this is my German and me. He is the Terminator (although I referred to him as the Germanator). I am Fergie from the Black-Eyed Peas since I am still sporting my shiner from October 6th.



This is a herd of Europeans. All except the pirate are native Germans. Nothing like hanging out with them when the conversation is entirely in German and I try and keep up interpreting the few words I know. I usually just stand there and drink beer and think happy thoughts...


This one is my favorite costume of the evening. Recognize Mary Poppins and Burt? I just loved this as it was awesome!



You know it is a great party when three police cars and a fire truck come. Everything was good... There was a permit to burn for the bonfire and it just made the band that was playing shut down after three songs...

It is already making us wonder what we will be next year.