Then several minutes later, I could swear I heard the doorknob being jiggled. But maybe I was imagining it. Either way, I was on full alert last night and I kept checking and double checking the doors. So today, because of my paranoia, I'm exhausted and my head hurts and I'm grumpy. And it's all santa's fault.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Then several minutes later, I could swear I heard the doorknob being jiggled. But maybe I was imagining it. Either way, I was on full alert last night and I kept checking and double checking the doors. So today, because of my paranoia, I'm exhausted and my head hurts and I'm grumpy. And it's all santa's fault.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Were messes like fires, waiting to be doused.
The Christmas stockings lay limp on the floor,
The toys that filled them have already begun to bore.
Children are screaming and crying, coming down from a Christmas sugar high,
Brownies, pie and candy galore. (I had cookies for breakfast, I can't deny.)
The kids are still in their new pajamas, hair all a mess. And yes, so is mine;
I wonder if breakfast is too soon for wine?
Sub zero temps, outside the wind is howling, blowing snow against the window pane,
Would it be child abuse, I wonder, to put them outside so that I may remain sane?
Or perhaps, early to sleep, so no one else will hear me weep
In frustration at the pile of dishes in the sink.
There is potato mashed in the chairs and dried gravy spots on the floor,
Even the old dog has stopped begging for more.
The house was full of people; of children alone there were a dozen,
Now there's chocolate and snot smeared across the sofa; thank you sick cousin.
The toys that were begged for, Santa brought the right type!
Yet, it seems that they do not live up to the hype.
I can see another meltdown is in sight, a new toy is already broken,
Calm down, maybe we can fix it, I say, but I may as well not have spoken.
Duplicate items, purchased by well meaning wishers are stacked neatly by the door,
Another item on my growing to-do list, awaiting their return to the store.
Ball poppers, transformers and Whack-a-Mole,
Gifts that are truly good for the soul.
Torn wrapping paper and instructions to read, more batteries to buy,
Another trash bag is filled as I heave a great sigh.
Now it's time for lunch and in my mind, I see a tasty turkey sandwich,
But before I eat, I have to clean the kitchen. And I know I shouldn't bitch...
Because it's a time for sharing, a time for love, a time for giving...
A time to re-evaluate the way we've all been living.
But I'm glad Christmas has gone and family drama can fade
Although with it, I wish it would've taken the mess it made.
I drank enough this year that in-laws weren't an issue
And holiday stress? I have to say I won't miss you.
But to you and yours, I hope you all were in good cheer!
Here's to a Happy New Year!
And this is why family holiday pictures should be taken before the end of the evening.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
It's been a few weeks since I joined Unknown Mami's Sunday in my City, so I thought today I'd show off some of my random Christmas decorations. Which are technically in my city, right? Right.
My very favorite Christmas decoration is the nativity that my dad actually started when he was little. He'd buy a piece every Christmas and then decorate it with glitter. It makes me laugh to think of my big, burly, Harley owning father as a little boy, painting glitter on little nativity angels. But I decided not to put it up this year. The baby is at that age where everything is game and I would be heart broken if any of the pieces were broken. Besides, I'm sure they're coated in paint with dangerous levels of lead. So, maybe next year. Or the year after that. Or the one after that.
Anyway, on to the child safe decorating of this year...
The stockings hung on the bookcase with care and the tree...where are all the decorations are at least two feet up from the bottom of the lowest branches. Now that baby has discovered that he can crawl up on the sofa to access the ornaments, that side of the tree is now completely bare.
This is "my room". It's my favorite in the house, even when it's not decorated for Christmas (although the lights do improve the ambience a bit). This is the room where all my favorite things are.
The lights on the railing. For some reason the top half flashes. Sometimes it doesn't. I can't figure it out and it drives me nuts.
The Christmas card my son made me at school.
The tree decorations my son made and stuck to the bookcase. (And the Holy Bible and Tom Sawyer.)
The alien gingerbread ornament Nick made at school.
Peace man, peace
The Rudolph my mom made. The kids like to take it apart and connect the knee bone to the antlers and the neckbone to the feet...
And there you have it. Now, head on over to Unknown Mami's place and see what everyone else is doing!
Friday, December 18, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Thanks to everyone who commented and liked the letter! I love reading your comments! And thank you so, so much to Chocolate Covered Daydreams for hosting this contest! It was a lot of fun. And I won!
Did I mention that already? Hee hee...I'm delirious with joy.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Dear Younger Self,
Ok, first off, I wanted to tell you that it gets better. Really it does. French kissing is not supposed to make you want to throw up. I think it had something to do with the food in his mouth. If it makes you feel any better, you never kiss him again and believe it or not, in a few years, you will find yourself in a constant lip lock with one particular member of the opposite sex (no, you don’t know him yet) and you will like it. A lot. No worries there. (So yes, you do like men. But let's try to not like them quite so much, ok?)
About the move...I know that right now, you feel like it’s the most terrible thing mom and dad can do to you. But trust me, it will be a very good thing. I promise. You will meet a lot of amazing new people; people that will change your life forever. (And anyway, in several years “social networking” will be all the rage. Someone will invent a thing called “facebook” and you’ll be able to reconnect to all the people you left behind. And raise pigs and join the mafia, but I digress.) At the new school you’ll meet the girl who will become your very best friend (and one of your favorite people to this day). You also meet the kissing boy that I mentioned.
I’m not going to lie and say it will all be rainbows and kittens. You will have a few issues to contend with, but they will all leave you with a better understanding of your fellow human and a better understanding of yourself. And despite the cliche, they really do make you a better person.
But just a tip..do not “go out” with the first guy that asks you. It’s a mistake. Trust me. Oh, and while in the locker room, always, always make sure that the locker above you is closed before standing up. It will save you a trip to the nurse. Also, always make sure that the hem of your skirt is not tucked into your panties when leaving the restroom. That will save you quite a bit of embarrassment.
I’d like to tell you to not take that “year” off from college, because you don’t end up going back. But I know if you had gone back, you wouldn’t have got the job you did, you wouldn’t have met the man you married and you wouldn’t have had your three beautiful kids. And I have to tell you, where you are now is a great place to be. I wouldn’t trade it fer all the edukashon in the world.
But I will tell you that when someone close confides in you, do not betray that confidence. It will be something you regret for the rest of your life.
I want you to know that you’re doing ok. You really are. Looking back, I’m proud of the girl you are, the girl that I was. I’d have changed the hairstyle and dumped a few of those outfits (the whole sock-with-pantyhose-hiking-boots-skirt look should have gone, same with that off the shoulder denim top you used to like so much) but really, all in all, you’re going to be ok. You’re going to infuriate your parent’s with some of your choices. They will have been right to doubt you, but I’m not going to tell you not to make them. You’ve learned something valuable from every single one of those decisions. They’ve made you who you are today. And really, that’s not a bad thing. Of course, it would nice to not have all those negative signs in the checkbook. So, you know, if you get a chance, you could learn a little bit about money laundering or something. Just kidding.
Anyway, enjoy each day because it will fly by. One day you’ll wake up and your own children will be screeching at you for something or another and you’ll pause and thank your mom for not beating you as a child. After you have kids, you’ll see what an herculean effort that took.
And believe it or not, your brother is going to be one of your best friends. So don't throw that chunk of concrete at him, ok?
See you soon.
Your Older (wiser, better looking, more stylish) Self
Monday, December 7, 2009
Christmas parties seem to be an excuse for people to get drunk and stumble around, but despite that and my hatred of crowds and small talk, I always kind of look forward to it because I get to dress up. I can put my fancy underpants on, slip into a dressy dress and strap on my party heels. All dressed up with some place to go. I can even wear jewelry because I won't be carrying around a small person who would be trying to eat my earrings. (And when my husband starts chewing on them, I know it's time to head home.) I take the time to fix my hair and put on my "evening makeup". My husband even changes out of his normal t-shirts and puts on a shirt that actually has buttons. Oh yeah. We look hot.
My brother and his fiance watched the kids for us, so I knew they'd get plenty of ice cream and Pepsi and maybe dinner, if they had room. And all those loud, obnoxious toys that I secretly take the batteries out of and then say are broken? Well, I knew they'd be "fixed" when we got home. And the kids know this too, so of course, they couldn't wait for mommy and daddy to leave. Nick woke up that morning, wanting to know if we were leaving yet. There is nothing like the love of a child to make you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside.
My hubby does the majority of the presentation at these parties; the awards, the thank yous, all that good stuff and I never cease to be amazed at him. He can stand up there in front of 60 people and whip this speech out of his...head...and never miss a beat. He's eloquent and funny. He is an excellent communicator. Yet, he can't write a letter. I am the exact opposite. I couldn't do a speech to save my life. I skipped days and days of school to avoid doing oral reports and that's something I never really outgrew. Even with the words written in front of me, I'd stutter, blush, choke, gag, mispronounce, wet myself and then pass out. But I can write. I just can't speak. Woof.
The other good thing about these parties is the food. It's always good. But what makes it amazing is the fact that I didn't have to cook it.
At past parties, I've been stuck at tables where the main topic of conversation was porn texts, complete with show and tell, but this time I ended up seated next to a few of my favorite people there. And I'm embarrassed to admit that I had a giggle attack with a fellow party goer during my husband's speech. I felt about 14 years old, sitting in the back of math class, getting a stern look from the teacher. (Sorry hon, we weren't laughing at you...)
Last year there was genital grabbing, bad karaoke and one notable guest bared her ample bosom to show of her nipple rings. This year, however, the bar bill was several thousand dollars (Yes. I said thousands.) less than it was last year, so the behavior was much more respectable and much less blog worthy.
However, my husband and I were propositioned by a swinging couple.
We politely declined then got in the car and stared at each other.
"Did what I think happen just now, really happen?"
"I think so."
We went home. And all the kids were sleeping in their own beds. (This is where the fancy underpants come in.) So we had sex in our own bed. Which was very exciting for us...there is usually a child in our bed, so when we want to...you know...we have to get creative.
"Oh come, all thee faithful..."
Ah, yes. The Hoildays are officially upon us.
And without further ado, I bring you...
The Waylaid Wordsmith.
All I Want for Christmas
We are all sick...again. I've had a really rotten week that's still too fresh to be able to make it sound amusing, which has left me a little short on blogging inspiration.
I could whine and complain at great length, but I thought out of compassion for my friendly readers I'd forgo that option. Instead, I decided to try and get in the holiday spirit by telling you all about what I want for Christmas. The must-have item of the year. The gift that every frazzled mommy should get:
That's right. Don't look at me funny, because I know you want one too.
Your shiny new Christmas wife will be the answer to all your problems, it's true! She will remember to defrost a new loaf of bread when the old one gets used up, and she will clean the bathtub before the layer of grime becomes visible. She will let you sleep in on weekend mornings and take naps when you're sick. Your wife knows all the baby's favourite hiding paces for the remote control, what size pieces to cut the kids' food into, and where you keep the extra tissues/tuna/matches/phonebook.
Your wife will be the keeper of all obscure and mysterious information, like "What's for dinner?" and "Where are all my black t-shirts?". She remembers all birthdays, anniversaries, and special events so you don't have to. She can install a carseat properly without the instruction manual and isn't afraid to wipe a snotty kid nose with her sleeve or glove if no tissue is available.
Your wonderful wife knows when you're running out of things and how to turn on the vacuum. She picks up toys off the floor instead of tripping over them and leaving them there, and she knows that there is no magical dishwasher-emptying fairy. She puts clothes in the dirty laundry basket and hunts the rest of the house for the renegade items that somehow end up in every nook and cranny.
She knows where you left your lighter/book/wallet/sunglasses/keys, and how much money is in the bank and when the bills are due. She gets the kid to school on time and the baby to take a nap.
She is a near-mythical creature, this coveted wife. No, don't worry about your to-do list. She did that already. Just go have some coffee, she made a fresh pot.
So get out your pen and paper and start writing that letter to Santa, ladies! You want to get your request in early before all the good wives are spoken for.
Now, run on over there and follow her. All her posts are this funny. I promise.
Maybe I'll write about the party tomorrow...
Friday, December 4, 2009
I'm not even sure how long ago this was taken. 10 years ago, maybe? Somewhere around there. It was the year that William Topley played at the Boulder Kinetics. My husband was still driving the Budweiser truck and they were sponsoring the event. I got to go back in the dressing rooms with some of the Bud employees, where I got to meet William Topley and get an autograph.
I realize that most of you have probably never heard of him, but for me, this was one of the most exciting moments of my life. William Topley! His voice makes me weak in the knees. While my musical tastes range from Bjork to Guns N' Roses, Fleetwood Mac to Godsmack, William Topley is always at the top of that list. I love him. I adore him. I listen to him almost daily. I spend the extra money to have his cds sent from England, because I can't wait until they are avaiable in the US. I am that obsessed. Every time he plays Colorado, I try to go. I am a groupie. Minus the sex. But that voice...oh, yeah. That voice. Hmmm...
Last time he played in Boulder, I was unable to go. I really am due for another fix. I think I'm going to go put him on now...
Some Delta Rain...
Thursday, December 3, 2009
My husband is in ski country for the weekend, taking leadership classes for the Fire Department. He was voted back in as Chief last week which is good. For him. He called awhile ago to tell me that the "hotel" he's staying in, turned out to be a condo with a kitchen, dining room and a wood burning stove. Blah, blah, blah. Good for him.
Yeah, well I have a kitchen and a dining room and plenty of wood to burn...
...there's chairs, tables, all those nice wooden commemorative plaques that the department has given him over the years. Yeah. I have plenty of wood to burn. I don't need any stupid condo in the mountains. Leadership classes...hah. He can take all the leadership classes he wants. I will always be the boss of him. Bah.
I thought I'd take advantage of this time, get the kids to bed early, have a glass of wine and actually work on my novel. The best laid plans...or is it the road to Hell is paved with good intentions? One of those.
After a disastrous trip to Walmart, during nap time (I can't go into details...it's still to painful) I came home and unloaded my groceries. I popped a frozen pizza in the oven, gave the dog his thyroid medicine and yogurt, fed the kids and then made them go to bed. At seven. The strange thing? They went. Well, Nick did. Delaney did, because I carried her up, put her in bed and then stacked the child gates in her door to keep her in there. I need two, one on top of the other, so she can't crawl over. (Please tell me I'm not the only one that does that?) But the baby...the sweet, adorable baby. He's not tired. Nope. Not at all. He would like to play and pull my hair and drop toys in the dog's water bowl. He'd like to crawl on the table and bang on the computer keyboard. He'd like to open the dishwasher and pull out steak knives. But then I made him drink the wine, and finally, he's asleep too.
And I'm drinking Theraflu.
My throat is sore and that red wine wasn't helping out (kind of like the kids). And I can't seem to stop coughing. There's spittle all over the keyboard (it is TMI Thursday, you know). I'm a bit sick of the sickness in this house. I'm ready for it to be over. Colds, bronchitis, ear infections, the flu...just make it stop. Really. That's enough. Thank you.
And obviously, since I am writing in my blog, I am not working on my novel.
I'm bitter as hell right now, for several reasons, all of which I will spare you right now. Tomorrow you may not be so lucky.
I'm fighting that dark pit that's threatening to engulf me. I'm standing right at the edge, dangling my legs over the chasm. I really don't want to go there, I really don't.
Sometimes, I think that maybe lobotomies weren't such a bad idea.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
You used to bring such joy to my life. I used to gaze up at the sky every Christmas Eve, searching the stars for that speck of red, for Rudolph's nose. I knew you had to be up there somewhere. I thought I saw you once. We were riding home from my grandparent's house and my forehead was pressed against the cold glass of the car window, my eyes to the sky. And I saw you! Amidst the stars, I saw the twinkling red light that had to be Rudolph. I could almost see the silouhette of the sleigh gliding across the sky. The glee I felt was indescribable.
When a teacher told me you didn't exist, my heart was broken. To this day, I can feel that pain so clearly. I was stunned. There was a mixture of disappointment, betrayal and sadness. How could you not be real? I believed so hard. That day, I not only lost you, but I lost a bit of innocence, a little bit of my naivete. I was sad to see you go. I smile now, to think of the little girl who was so trusting and believed in you whole heartedly. There was never a doubt in her mind. She wanted to believe in magic so badly that she continued to believe in you long after her friends had ceased their belief.
Now that little girl is all grown up with small children of her own. She has never lost her desire for the magical. And that, Santa, is why you visit her children. That is why your elves peek around the furniture in her house and why your reindeer will munch on the baby carrots so carefully arranged on the plate right beside your cookies.
Because even though learning the truth about you stunned that little girl, she realized that she wouldn't have had it any other way. We all have to grow too fast as it is and everyone needs a little magic in their lives. So I will let my children believe in the impossible for as long as I can and we will set our sights on the sky this Christmas Eve, in search of that red glow.
Ok...there you have it. My Writer's Workshop from Mama Kat. This was not what I was originally going to write, but when I sat down, this is what came out. And who am I to argue with the muse. (I don't want to scare her off...)
So, head on over and pick your prompt:
1.) Verse by verse, dissect a favorite song you had in 7th grade.
2.) List 5 must have gifts you are purchasing for a loved one this Christmas.
3.) Open letter to Santa Claus.
4.) Describe how you would celebrate the holidays if it was totally up to you and money was not a factor.
5.) Book review time! What winter read has you snuggled in and turning pages
Monday, November 30, 2009
Every year, I picture my kids, husband and I putting up the Christmas tree together. We're laughing and hugging and drinking hot cider (mine might have a little rum in it). Outside the window, the snow is falling in big fluffy flakes and we're telling stories about each ornament, recalling where we got them or when we made them. We're smiling and stringing popcorn, (I'm not sure why, I don't really want popcorn on the tree. The dog would eat it. But it just looks like something a happy family should do) as we sing Christmas carols.
You know, like the freakin' Hallmark movie channel would do it.
Somehow, it never turns out that way.
I made the mistake of mentioning Christmas decorations to my son.
"Now!?! Can we put them up now?" he asks, excited.
"No, no, not right now. I said sometime soon."
"Oh," he says, bummed out for about a half a second. "How about now?"
"No! Stop! Go watch tv or something."
5 minutes later.
Now imagine having this conversation at least 250 more times the next few hours. I couldn't even make eye contact with the boy, he was like a rabid dog, waiting to pounce, looking for an opening.
"But I didn't say anything!"
"You were going to, I could tell."
Finally, because I am weak, I give in. My husband is not home yet, so I venture into the garage and dig out the Christmas tree. To get to it, I have to move several boxes of junk, a tool box and a greasy seat from a Peterbilt semi. Grunting and groaning, covered in dust, I drag the thing into the house, three small children trailing behind me, talking excitedly about Santa.
"Santa will love our tree!" Delaney says. I wish "Santa" was here, I think, to help put the damn thing together.
"He sure will!" I say sweetly. Because I am. Sweet.
I dust off the spider webs and open the box. Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, Thy leaves are so unchanging. Because you're plastic. I lug the parts out of the box and put it together. It's the kind with the lights already on it. You know, to make things easier. I plug it in.
They don't light. Of course they don't light. Silly me.
"Why don't they light?" Nick asks.
"Because mommy's out of wine," I say.
Several minutes of switching out bulbs, jiggling wires and turning switches on and off seems to solve most of the problem. I decide that a lot of large ornaments will disguise the remaining dark parts of the tree. So, now the fun part! Ornaments!
We open the ornament box. The baby is hypnotized by the sparkling garland. The other two kids shriek and dive in like they're bobbing for apples.
"No! Slow down! You're going to...CRACK...break them." Ok, shake it off. It's a small fatality. No one's bleeding, there's plenty more ornaments.
"That's ok, we just need to be more careful. Here, I'll hand them to you, ok? And then you can hang them up." Ah, mom, the voice of reason. I hand him and Delaney an ornament.
"AHHHH! NO! I WANT THAT ONE! I HATE THIS ONE!"
"NO! I LIKE THIS ONE! YOU CAN'T HAVE IT."
"OH GOD! Would you please stop screaming at each other? Give me that one, here, take this one. There! Is everyone happy now?"
"Ok! Let's decorate this tree!"
"AHHHH! DELANEY PUT HERS ON FIRST! I WANTED TO BE FIRST!"
Oh, why am I out of wine? I contemplate calling the neighbors to see if they have any wine. You can borrow sugar right? Why not wine? But I don't want you to think that I'm the kind of person that has to have alcohol to deal with stress. Because I don't. I usually use valium, but I'm all out.
"Mom, the baby has that sparkly stuff around his neck."
"Mom, remember when I made this in preschool?" Nick asks, holding up a decorated paper ornament. Yay! Here we go! Just like my little happy family fantasy.
"I sure do, it's a pretty one!" I say.
"WHY DON'T I HAVE AN ORNAMENT LIKE THAT!?" Delaney cries.
"Because you were too little for preschool last year. I bet you'll make one this year!"
"BUT I WANT ONE NOW!"
"MOM!" Nick screams. "THE BABY TORE MY ORNAMENT!" He falls to the floor, crying in distress.
The baby is chewing on the ornament. I take the paper out of his mouth. It's not very pretty anymore.
"Um, don't worry Nick. We will fix it!" I discreetly slip it into my pocket, to throw away when he's not looking. "Here, put this one on instead. No, no! Higher! The baby is going to get it!"
Somehow, we decorated the tree. Somehow, I made it through without wine (although we had plenty of "whine").
My husband comes home, very late, after the kids are in bed.
"The tree looks nice," he says. "I wish I could've been here!"
The winners of the Fantastic Mr. Fox Giveway are...
Drum roll please...
Tattytiara and Blueviolet! Yay! Congratulations!
Please email me with your address as soon as you can and I will pass them along to the company that is sponsoring the giveaway! They will get them sent right out to you!
Again, congratulations. You will be the envy of the neighborhood.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
So, I sent my husband and the kids to the in-laws house for food, family and all that jazz. And I stayed home. Alone. All afternoon. Ahh. Bliss. I had a big bowl of ice cream for lunch and read some blogs. Then like a cat, I curled up in the sun streaming through the window, and took a long nap.
Now, I'm drinking tea and I have my music playing (no Laurie Berkner today, thank you very much), rather loudly. What am I listening to, you ask? Why I'm listening to good 'ol Axl Rose, "...been hiding out and laying low...you can always find a place to go if you can keep your sanity..." Good Thanksgiving music, I thought.
Here's a nice picture of Axl, before he got weird (er). Speaking of him...did anyone out there buy "Chinese Democracy"? I was wondering if it was any good.
Anyway...what were we talking about?
Before you go thinking, "man, that girl is terrible! Stiffing her family like that on Thanksgiving!" let me clarify. I stayed home as a public service, really. Lately, we've had a bit of a flu problem in the house. Temps of of 104.9 (!), throwing up, coughing, rashes, all that good stuff. When I woke up this morning, I had a sore throat and had a headache. And I'm coughing so hard, I fear I'm going to dislodge my gallbladder. So, I decided I'd stay home and not cough on the turkey or old people.
I was like Typhoid Mary last night, making pumpkin pies.
Want a slice?? Here, you can spray it with a little Lysol. I'm sure it will be fine.
I expect my lovely family to stumble in at anytime with a nice plate of leftovers for me.
I think I might skip the pie though.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Not a day goes by when I don't curse those same amazing children, but I'm also thankful for the ability to curse creatively so as to not teach them too many words that might cause me trips to the principal's office.
I am thankful for my amazing husband.
Of course, like every other (honest) couple, we've had our...um, differences, but we always work it out. When it comes right down to it, as much as I feel I've had to give up to stay at home with my children, he has sacrificed just as much, if not more, to make that possible for me. (I'm also thankful for those boots.)
I'm thankful for my parents:
Without whom I'd be seriously lost.
I'm so thankful for my brother:
Even if he did chase me around the house with a knife when we were little, I adore him. He is seriously one of my best friends.
I'm thankful for antidepressants. I'm also grateful that lobotomies are no longer considered a viable option for mental illness.
Even though money is so tight it is often invisible, I am thankful that we have a roof over our heads, food on the table, clothes on our bodies and shoes on our feet...I am thankful for my real world friends and I'm just as thankful for my friends in the blogosphere. I'm thankful for vanilla flavored coffee and orange juice, gravity, running water and electricity.
And books...oh, so grateful for books. Oh, and Nickelodeon.
To those who are celebrating tomorrow, I wish you a Happy Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
...using the Random Number Generator at Random.org I plugged in 1-34 and up popped number 16! And the 16th comment was left by The Waylaid Wordsmith! Congratulations!! I'll send you an email in a bit! :)
And as a side note...I loved reading about everyone's favorite kid's books! My favorite book is the Cat in the Hat, but I love anything by Dr. Suess or Silverstein. I am such a fan of Suess that I have to share something with you.
Because you all want to see it...my bathroom:
Monday, November 23, 2009
FANTASTIC MR. FOX is visionary director Wes Anderson’s first animated film, utilizing classic handmade stop-motion techniques to tell the story of the best-selling children’s book by Roald Dahl (author of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and James and the Giant Peach). The film features the voices of George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Jason Schwartzman, Bill Murray, Wally Wolodarsky, Eric Anderson, Michael Gambon, Willem Dafoe, Owen Wilson, and Jarvis Cocker.
Mr. and Mrs. Fox (Clooney and Streep) live an idyllic home life with their son Ash (Schwartzman) and visiting young nephew Kristofferson (Eric Anderson). But after twelve years of quiet domesticity, the bucolic existence proves too much for Mr. Fox’s wild animal instincts. Soon he slips back into his old ways as a sneaky chicken thief and in doing so, endangers not only his beloved family, but the whole animal community. Trapped underground without enough food to go around, the animals band together to fight against the evil Farmers - Boggis, Bunce and Bean - who are determined to capture the audacious, fantastic Mr. Fox at any cost. In the end, he uses his natural instincts to save his family and friends. For more info, check out the official website.
In honor of "Fantastic Mr. Fox" opening, 42 West has graciously offered two of my readers with Fox related goodies.
I could say that this giveaway was for a romantic, candle light dinner with George Clooney, who plays the Fantastic Mr. Fox (which really isn't much of a stretch), but that would be a lie. Would you settle for a cool fox tail tie?
And how about a set of Mario Batali Thanksgiving recipe cards? Yeah, that's what I thought. Really, who needs George Clooney?
Ok, never mind.
Anyway, to enter, all you need to do is comment. And of course, be a follower!
1. Tweeting about the giveaway will give you an extra entry.
2. Posting the giveaway as your facebook status is worth another entry.
3. Blog about this giveaway on your own blog and earn two more entries!
Just be sure to leave a seperate comment for each one! Giveaway ends Monday, so get a move on! Come on, hustle, hustle!
And be sure to check out this post for my interview with Jason Schwartzman!
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Jason Schwartzman has starred in several movies, including "Shop Girl", "I Heart Huckabees" and "Funny People". He also played King Louis XVI in "Marie Anntoinette".
Most recently, however, he is the voice of this guy, or, um, animal in the new film adaptation of Roald Dahl's "Fantastic Mr. Fox."
And I had the pleasure of speaking with him (the man, not the fox) last week about the new movie. I even kept my daughter home from her beloved dance class, just so I could participate in this call. I have my priorities...conversation with sexy movie star or my daughter's future as a ballet dancer? Easy choice.
Schwartzman won me over the second he came on the line. He was so enthusiastic and gushed about how excited he was to be talking to us! His passion for this movie was immediately apparent and it further fueled my desire to see it.
"Fantastic Mr. Fox" was over three years in the making. It is a stop motion movie incorporating 125, 000 still images. That amazes me. I pulled up the website after the call and was blown away. Each puppet was hand made, down to the tiny clothes and sets. "It's good for the brain, good for the eye...so much love and care went into making the movie," Schawartman said and after watching the featurettes on the web page, that's apparent. The voices were not recorded seperately, like they are in most animated movies. All the actors lived on a farm while filming, and acted out the scenes with a sound man. Schwarztman said that when the characters in the movie were eating "french toast and biscuits" the actors were also eating french toast and biscuits. If the characters were digging or sitting under a tree, the actors were also sitting under a tree or "running around, growling, hooting and hollering". And since these actors included Schwartzman, George Clooney, Meryl Streep, Bill Murray and Owen Wilson, that had to be a sight to behold.
Schwartzman said that some of the scenes in the movie are "the funniest things I've ever seen in my life", are "mesmerizingly beautiful" and are "heartwarming and uplifting." He said that first and foremost, the movie was made for kids, with kids in mind, but everyone could enjoy it.
"It will do kids so much good to see this movie...it has so many great things in it," he said. "This movie is going to be stuck in their brain and will hopefully be there for a long, long time, if not forever."
"Fantastic Mr. Fox" opens nationwide on Thanksgiving. This looks like such a fun movie! I can't wait to see it!
Fantastic Mr. Fox giveaway post here!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
6 years ago, my firstborn was, well, born. I had checked in at about 8:00am and soon after, my water broke. I had chosen to go unmedicated, so I stood in the shower in my room, the water as hot as I could get it, clenching the handicap rail for dear life, moaning and whimpering. All those things I worried about before I went into labor: pooping on the doctor, my modesty, unwanted in-laws in the delivery room...all those went out the window. I realized quickly that I didn't care if the entire city was in my hospital room and I pooped on all of them, JUST. MAKE. IT. STOP. OH. MY. GOD. AHHHHHHHHH! OW...OW...OW...OW.
Fortunately, after only a few hours and only 3 pushes (I know, I know...I'm sorry) Nick entered the world at 12:51 pm, 6 pounds, 10.9 ounces and 20 inches long.
That was the day my life changed forever. That was the day I met that amazing soul I know as my son. Who makes me laugh with his chicken dance and his old man walk. Who infuriates me with his attitude and stubborness. Who amazes me with the things he says and the insight he has...
I love ya kid. Happy Birthday.