Images of Christmas 2009

We'll take it!

It's Christmas Eve Eve, 7 a.m. and the temp is 62. Just a few minutes ago it was pitch dark. Now the shape of trees and houses is emerging as the sun begins to rise. Baxter is snoring. Lucky her. I was awakened at 6 by Princess barking, then heard the source: knocking at the front door. I immediately knew it was John's lost luggage. Yay! Even at 6 in the morning, we'll take it!

John's long lost luggage has been stranded in Philadelphia for 2 days. Better the luggage than John. It's a Christmas miracle that it found it's way home. I secretly believed no way was John seeing the suitcase again. Me, of little faith. Even though I wasn't ready to get up, it's a good way to start the day.

Did I mention the temp is 62? Awesome! It is predicted to get into the 70s. But this is the last day of warm weather before the cold. We'll take that too!

Mary

O Snap

I totally forgot about this picture taken at the state fair. We were supposed to use it for the annual holiday card. Too late. Yesterday I finished all the cards, which include a picture of Addison with Santa... she is sound asleep. It's adorable. Just not as funny as this one.

Survivor ended last night. We all were disappointed, especially my son-in-law Jack. He has a new idol named Russell. His idol did not win. We all were Russell fans. Natalie won instead. I can live with that because Russell came on a little strong at the end, and I think if we've learned anything from Survivor, as soon as you declare yourself the winner before the game is over, it's usually over for YOU. That happened to Russell. But, the good news is he will be back for the next edition of Survivor: Villains vs. Heroes. The 20th season. And we're still there watching. It's truly our Ed Sullivan Show. Survivor: A Rilly Big SSHHow! You have to be 50 to understand that reference.

Mary

Happy Birthday John

Our youngest is 24 years old today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN!!

Did you know we brought you home on Christmas Eve? I remember dinner with Julie Gehm that evening. Am I making this up? Julie, I just had a flashback being at your house that Christmas 24 years ago. Help me if you are reading this.

Anyway, John, you were loved from the first. I know we kid that you were an accident (which is true), but you were and are always, always loved.

Mum

Real men get pedicures

Yesterday Paul and I got pedicures. It was not Paul's first... it was his second. Paul is not Metro sexual. He's all man. A real man. He joins more and more males getting nail treatments, hands and feet. I hold these men in high regard for their obvious healthy sense of self. They ignore those who say it's a sissy, girlie thing to do, this lovely ritual that women discovered years ago. One website, in fact, puts the practice at 4,000 years old.

From Wikipedia:
The word pedicure comes from the Latin words pedis, which means of the foot, and cura, which means care. It also means the care of the feet and toenails. A pedicure can help prevent nail diseases and nail disorders. Pedicures are not just limited to nails; usually dead skin cells on the bottom of feet are rubbed off using a rough stone called a pumice stone. Additionally, leg care below the knee became a common and now expected service included in pedicures.

See, it's good for you. It can prevent disease. It's also fun to be pampered and even more fun to do it with your partner. Sexy even. Side-by-side soaking our dirty feet in hot water, surrendering to the deep rubbing of the massage chair... (hee,hee. sorry kids).

My father, too, has gotten a pedicure in recent years. He loved it. No one can say he's not a real man. He fought in WWII with distinction, he was inducted into his college Sports Hall of Fame after lettering in FOUR sports, he produced 5 sons, he can fix anything that breaks and he has built tons and tons of stuff with his own hands. No one would ever mistake him for a sissy. Not Frank Lochridge.

And not Paul Stickney.

Mary

P.S. Above is photo of my foot taken a few months ago. It's not Paul's. He doesn't get polish. I guess you might say real men don't get toe polish, but I could be dissuaded on that...

My granddaughter thinks I'm funny

Addison is 10 weeks old. For several weeks now I have been doing all I can to make her smile. She really likes when I say boo boo over and over. You know, get up close and get her attention. Then I stick my tongue out and do that raspberry sound. She likes that too. The combination always gets her. After a feeding, it takes nothing to get her to show her smile.

So last night we were at a restaurant for my birthday dinner in a giant booth. After dinner, Andrea and I were playing with Addison and I started the usual boo boo and she beamed. You could see her recognition. So I do it again. And again. And that made me and Andrea laugh. And then it happened. Addison laughed. At first is was did you hear that? Then, it was a bonafide, no mistakable baby laugh. It was so cute and funny. Both Andrea and I were laughing, which made Addison laugh, which made us laugh harder, which made Addison respond again, which made us laugh... my gut actually hurt.

Addison thinks I'm funny. I think she's funny. Her laugh, I must say, was the most precious birthday gift I've ever received.

Mary

P.S. The second most precious gift came yesterday too. Jenny's kindergarten class called me and sang Happy Birthday! How adorable is that? Too much. I am so lucky.

Happy 56th, 45th, 40th, 37th & 20th Birthday To Me

Today is my 56th birthday! I wish I had taken the day off. If I had I would hang out with my dogs for awhile. Then I would take myself and a newspaper to breakfast (probably IHOP, god help me I love the pancakes), then some leisurely shopping (definitely include a bookstore), then home for nap ... sigh... no sense torturing myself as I have just a few minutes left before I become officially potentially late to work.

Age is just a number. And if that's true, I am many different ages. I was born in 1953, so that makes me a conventional 56, same as Paul. But my brain age this morning is 45. Not the best result I've gotten from my Brain Age game, but I'll take it. In my mind, I think and feel I am around 37. When I look in the mirror, well that varies too. Today I am gonna be kind and say my mirror age is 49. Then we also have that nonsense about 50 being the new 40, or was it 20?

I don't fear aging. It beats the alternative, as we always say, right? Both Paul and I have had to consider the alternative because of health reasons. Frightening for us and for those we love. But it also has been a gift. Contemplating your own death gives you a renewed perspective about life. That is so true. Don't get me wrong, Paul and I have have made a pact to live 100 years. My point is, when you get blind-sided by mortality, it can produce wonderful results. This past week, Paul's new perspective produced a beautiful red car that he so deserved. My own brush with mortality in 2000 gave me the extra push I needed to go back to school and get a master's degree. Hmmm. Should I have gone for the red car? Absolutely not. I love my work, most days.

I love birthdays, mine especially. I woke this morning feeling different, I guess special. This morning I have heard from all my children and a couple of friends. Tonight I am having dinner with my daughter and granddaughter. A few days ago my parents called early to sing me happy birthday from Montana, an annual tradition.

It's good to be 56, 45, 37, 40 and 20!

Mary

Hermaphrocat?

My beloved Tex, who I have renamed Princess, has many odd behaviors. Always has. She can be overly clingy in one moment and distant the next. When company comes, she disappears. In fact, she is often out of sight, doing her own thing.

When Addison first came to the house, Princess could have cared less while Baxter and Mika were all over her... To this day, when Addison is over, Princess is nowhere to be seen.

Then last night Princess practically hisses at Baxter and even took a swipe at her, all because Baxter was too close to her rawhide chew.

So, this morning I am sitting on the couch and Mika is competing with Princess for my attention. There is no contest here. Princess will win. She was doing the usual: climbing all over me, getting into my face. She is using her front paws to hold me down. When her face is in my face, it hits me. Princess is a cat in a dog's body! That's gotta be it. It makes sense now. The kneading-like behavior, her bossiness, her aloofness. She acts superior to the other dogs! Princess is a hermaphrocat!! Or is she a transcaline??

I don't care. Princess is my sweet little... whatever she is. No matter. She really is the sweetest animal in our house, other than the shedding, which is the worst of all the animals in our house. Oh, snap. That could be a metaphor for shedding her outer doggness in favor of her true, but hidden identity.

I hope you will join us in better understanding and accepting Princess for who she is. Gotta go now - off to get some catnip!


Mary

P.S. The photo above, by the way, we call Tex in drag...

Me and my red Challenger...

I keep singing/humming the old Prince song Me and my Red Corvette. Paulie got a gorgeous red 2010 SE Challenger, part of the retro line introduced last year. There haven't been Challengers since the 70s. So Paul calls me from the dealership and says he has heart palpitations. I had to talk him through. Breathe, I texted him. You can do this.

Paul has been drooling over this car since they first came out last year. He has test drove it multiple times at different dealerships. Each time talking himself out of it because it's impractical and it won't tow the RV. No more excuses. My Liberty can technically tow the Manny AND he got such a good trade-in for the Jeep AND he got a super interest rate (3.9) AND car sticker prices and interest rates are going up next year... if it was going to happen, now was time. We didn't figure on red. We were leaning toward white or black. Surprises are good AND cool.

So the joke now is we've decided to start shopping for groceries at Albertsons - in Weatherford.

Mary

Transgressions

If I were to list my own transgressions over the years... well, let's just say it wouldn't be pretty. And, if I were to list Paul's transgressions, well, forget about it. Imagine your lowest moment made public and used for entertainment and sport by strangers all over the world. Horrible and disgusting. But really, which is worse, cheating on a spouse or selling a lover's voicemail message for more than $100,000?

Mary

Little angel

Addison continues to dazzle us. I love this view of her - it makes me want to kiss her tiny feet. Too much?. Photo by mum (see previous post).

Meet my newest best friend (besides Paul)

I got a personal email yesterday from my newest best friend Geraldine Brooks. She is a Pulitzer Prize winning author of the book March. She is very talented and super smart. And, she is now my newest best friend. That might be news to her, but no matter. She returns my email faster than almost all of my family members (besides Paul). She reads my email, unlike some of my family and friends. And, she uses the word mum. She's an Aussie. I believe anyone who calls their mother mum is somehow more civilized or friendly or down to earthy. Right? I am going to start closing my texts, emails, etc. to my kids with mum.

I am thinking now that some people will not believe that I have gotten a personal communique from a Pulitzer Prize winner. That I am not worthy. Here's the initial email I sent to Geraldine (via her publisher) after reading 3 of her books:

I wanted to say thanks to Geraldine Brooks.

I count on my mother to keep me current on good reading. She and my father are founding members of a public library in Lakeside, Montana. My mother was a teacher, but should have been a librarian.

Anyway, my mom recommended People of the Book recently. I bought the book - ever obedient. I read it and then read March, and yesterday I finished Year of Wonders. When my mom is right, she is right. It's been awhile since I have been so excited about reading. For that, I wanted to thank the author.

So here's the text I received from Geradline Brooks herself:

Thanks so much for your lovely comments. Say hi --and thanks--to your mum from me!
geraldine Brooks

So there you go. I have lovely comments. Geraldine says so. And, she's my newest smartest friend (besides Paul).

Mary (mum to Andrea, Jenny and John)