Our 1st Christmas

It was my son's first Christmas this year, and we really had a good time. I had really forgotten how much fun Christmas can be. My husband and I just turned 30 this year, so we have spent all of our 20's without children to share the holiday with. In fact, I think that both of our families had about given up on having kids around for Christmas. The youngest, for a long time, was my husbands little brother, who just turned 18. He is probably wishing he were still the youngest. My son was really spoiled. He got lots and lots of presents from Santa and Grandparents. I know that he won't need any more toys for an entire year.
He was really good. Even though he is only eight months old, he tried to help unwrap the presents. He really knew that something good was under that paper. Like all kids, he also really seemed to enjoy the boxes. Fisher Price tends to put babies on the boxes, and he looks at the pictures of the babies and giggles.
I think his favorite toy was a stack of simple, bright colored cups that his aunt got him from Ikea. He loves to bat them around and try to pick them up with his hands. If I stack them up for him, he loves to knock it over.
My husband and I got him the Tigger you see in the picture. He loves to jump in his jumperoo, so he is our little Tigger. You don't get cuter than this! For more Christmas pictures, click here.

To ear is human

Ha ha. I make myself laugh, which is a good thing, because I seem to be a little short of comedians in the house.
To ear is human. A takeoff of the phase to err is human. But, you got it right?
I haven't posted lately, frankly, because I haven't had the time. My son has had a horrible bought with ear infections, which make him cranky and irritable. He hasn't been sleeping; therefore, I have not been sleeping. Last night, he crashed about 6 o'clock. Then, he awakened about 9 o'clock, and didn't go to sleep till 3 am, when in desperation, I took him into bed with me.
Normally, I don't believe in allowing kids to sleep in the same bed as parents. Maybe I'm just selfish. My bed is my haven. I go there at the end of a long day, shut my weary eyes, and fall fast as a rock tied to a mafioso, to sleep. However, when I become sleep deprived, there is nothing I won't do to find the blessed embrace of my flannel sheets.
So, today we made yet another trek to the Dr's office, where they took one look in his little ears and said "ouch". They gave me another RX, and I headed back to the neighborhood Walgreen’s. I dutifully handed the pharmacist the script, and she told me it would be done in a half and hour. Now, I know they have other customers, but I have a grumpy little boy at home whose ears hurt. I really wish they would work faster faster faster.
I think it’s all a plot to make you buy things in the store. I mean, you could sit in the nice padded seats in the waiting area and read a well thumbed and germ riddled magazine, but I prefer to browse.
It's amazing what Walgreen’s carries. Today, I saw baby food, ramen noodles, assorted nuts, car lock de-icer, those little smelly trees you hang from your rear view mirror, a cushy neon green pillow for your back, makeup, perfume, Christmas trees, and a Magic Bullet (As seen on TV) blender. If your ever feeling bored, just go wander around, you'll be amazed at what you will discover.
So after my name was called, I pulled myself away from the mindless entertainment and went home to dose my kid up. At the moment, he is blissfully sleeping away his ear pain, and I am enjoying yet another cup of coffee.
Merry Christmas!

My favoriate things

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things . . . .

A few of my favorite things.
1. Barenaked Ladies -- No, not REAL naked ladies, the Canadian pop band. They have a great live show.
2. Harry Connick Jr. -- He is a great singer, and he is not hard on the eyes at all.
3. A good book. My favorite author? To many to count. Right now, I'm reading Back Story by Robert B. Parker. Next in the pile? Teacher Man by Frank McCourt.
4. Red -- My favorite color adds a vibrant color to monochromic surroundings. Also my favorite Jello flavor!
5. The Shawshank Redemption -- My favorite movie with Morgan Freeman, one of my favorite actors.
6. My name is Earl -- As previously mentioned, my favorite TV show. Also, I enjoy Survivor and Lost.
7. Coca-Cola -- I've got to have the real thing. No diet for me. The vanilla flavor is nice to mix it up a bit.
8. Allrecepies.com -- my favorite web site. Also, Happynews.com for happy news, and smokinggun.com for funny mug shots of celebrities with big heads.
9. Sam’s Club -- Who can resist buying a gross of Pop Tarts or a 1000 count box of garbage bags. I contend I have a weird fear of running out of stuff, so I tend to overbuy.
10. White chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Do I have to say more?
11. Hash browns for breakfast. Nice and toasty brown.
12. Ford Cars -- Only because you can buy them for dirt cheap used, and my husband knows how to fix them.
13. Fisher Price -- They make the best baby toys ever. My son is happy, so mom is happy.

My least favorite things:
1. Going to the doctor
2. Pimples
3. Stinky garbage cans
4. Laundry
5. Grocery Shopping
6. Shopping without a purpose
7. Having people interrupt me when I'm reading to ask me what I'm reading.
8. Falling down the stairs.
9. Hitting my head low hanging items that a short person hung from the ceiling. I'm tall.
10. Pets. I'm just not a pet person. If my son wants a pet, he's going to get a goldfish.
11. Cleaning the bathroom. Its just drudgery.

Let It Snow!

As I sit here, safely ensconced in the warm house, 3-6 inches of snow is softly blanketing the ground.
I say 3-6 inches of snow, although I really don't know how much snow we will get. You know how weather forecasters are these days. The slightest hint of snow and they all go crazy. Like a rabid pack of dogs, they run to the streets in packs to get the obligatory picture of cars slowly driving past.
Anything over an inch, and all bets are off. They interrupt programming to bring you the "latest" news on the winter storm. They show you all their fancy radar pictures. I think they just get hot and bothered because they finally get to use that multi million-dollar radar rig they convinced the network they had to have. Every channel has one, and they all seem to have a cutesy name.
Snow teams on every channel are all working overtime interviewing the snow truck drivers, the salt truck drivers, and the school bus drivers. They all proclaim that they will conquer the snow in a timely fashion, or at least by rush hour.
Personally, I think that we should all just tape the newscast from the first big snow of the year. You can just insert the date, and assume that it will snow from 2-10 inches. This is just as accurate as watching an actual newscast, and this way we can fast forward through the boring parts.
I think I'll just turn off the television. I have a good book to finish and some Christmas cookies to bake. Don't get lost in the snow! Happy Holidays!

It's begining to look a lot like Christmas

Everywhere I go, It IS beginning to look a lot like Christmas.
My neighborhood is filled with lights, Christmas trees standing proudly in picture windows. Mischievous plastic elves frolicking with fake deer.
The sent of gingerbread in the air -- or is that garbage the raccoon’s got into last night?
This time of year, Christmas permeates the air. Anticipation fills me as I plot and plan my shopping.
I actually got my husband to go shopping with me. We had a good time finding gifts for the little one. We probably overbought, but it is his and OUR first Christmas. I always wanted to play Santa.
Our son hated Santa. We went to a nearby mall to take pictures with Jolly ole Saint Nick. I knew that he would cry, because he really doesn't like strangers. I told the photographer to take a quick one as soon as I set him down. You can see from the picture the results.
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
To see another holiday picture of the little guy, click here.

I've got that sinking feeling . . .

I’ve got that sinking feeling, and it’s not because I’ve embarrassed myself by tripping over my incredibly large feet.

It all started on Saturday, when my brother and his girlfriend traveled down U.S. 71 to pay us a visit and partake of the obligatory holiday turkey.

Funny enough, he said that he would be here early morning on Saturday, but I had my doubts. Like me, my brother is not a morning person at all, and I just knew that he wouldn’t be leaving his house at the crack of dawn. When I get up that early, I can barley even put two words together, let alone operate a motor vehicle with any degree of safety.

So I started cooking up a storm. I mean I was full tilt; I had the turkey’s butt tied up and ready to go on the BBQ (Yes we BBQ our turkey). I had the cheesecake bars wiped up and ready to go, I had the baked beans, the green beans and cheese, the rolls, and the yams all in the oven. The problem started when I was peeling the 5 lbs of potatoes for the mash.

I know better, I really do, but I peeled away, happily in bliss. At one point, my brother and his girlfriend showed up. His girlfriend, a lovely girl who I hope one day will be my sister-in-law, happily grabbed up a potato peeler and joined the fun. She had the common sense to bring up the point that all those peels might not go down the disposal.

I must just be in a constant state of optimism. With a shrug, I said that I didn’t think it would be a problem.

Unfortunately, it was a problem. The sink got stuck. I got out the plunger, and plunged and plunged. The timer rang, all the dinner was done, and I was a mess. My hair was flying in about a hundred different directions, and I was sopped to the bone in that nasty greasy gunk that lives in pipes.

I shrugged my shoulders, and went in search of dry clothes. Later, my husband poured down about a gallon of professional, extra heavy duty, burn your eyes out and destroy any organic particle that it happens to get in contact with, drain cleanser down the pipe. Mocking us, it just sat in the drain. I think the clog was winning the battle.

Three days later, and much vexation to my husband and me, we looked into having a commercial plumber come out and root that clog out with the mechanical equivalent of Mike Tyson. Unfortunately, they wanted $143.95. I thought that was a little pricey. So we called our local equipment rental outlet, and rented an electric snake for $16.00.

My husband had that clog cleared in about 20 minutes. He is such a handy guy!

Now my drains run clear, and my kitchen has returned to its peaceful state. As you all get ready to make your Thanksgiving dinners, I just want to let you know that putting 5 lbs of potato skins down the garbage disposal is a bad idea. Just throw them in the garbage; it’ll save you the headache.

A pinch of this, a dash of that.

I love to cook. The thrill of trolling the Internet for new and exciting recipes, the adrenaline rush when you find a recipe you know is great, the preparation, and the final product all bring much joy to me.
It must be much like a porno addiction, but without the nudity. My friends and I share our favorite web sites, we talk about the latest celebrity chef and how cute he is. For my money, I'll take Jamie Oliver over Emeril any day of the week. Yeah, Emeril has better teeth, but Jamie has that cute smile and twinkle in his eye.
So I digress. I found a great recipe for Vodka Penne the other day. I ran out to the grocery store at the first opportunity to buy the ingredients. Penne, Italian Sausage, HEAVY cream, and of course Vodka. Why to cashiers at grocery stores always make you feel like a lush when you buy alcohol? Of course, in Indiana, you can't even buy liquor in a grocery store. Here, you can buy everything from Vodka to Tequila. For some reason, it's all labeled as diluted. Must be a strange blue law.
So, if you would like to try Vodka Penne, I've included the recipe below. If you don't have any Vodka around (gasp!), buy the good stuff. The cheap stuff tastes like rubbing alcohol, which you can also find in my grocery store, aisle three.

INGREDIENTS:

• 1 pound uncooked penne pasta
• 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
• 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
• 1 (28 ounce) can crushed tomatoes
• 3/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 tablespoons vodka
• 1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
• 2 (3.5 ounce) links sweet Italian sausage
• 
  
• DIRECTIONS:

1. Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook for 8 to 10 minutes or until al dente; drain.
2. In large skillet, heat oil over moderate heat. Remove casing from sausage and add to skillet. Cook, breaking up the meat, until brown. Add garlic and red pepper and cook, stirring until garlic is golden brown.
3. Add tomatoes and salt; bring to boil. Reduce heat and simmer 15 minutes.
4. Add vodka and cream and bring to boil. Reduce heat to low and add pasta, toss for 1 minute. Stir in fresh parsley and serve!

Time

The flow of time
slips effortlessly on

past the sweet senseless
optimism of youth

past the periodic passions
of adulthood

through the fine times
through the bad times

past the respectful silences
past the terrible turbulences

the flow of time
slips
effortlessly
on

By Jessica Miller -- Written on 3oth Birthday 10/03/2005

Water Wonder

I was in the park today, and I happened upon a little creek.
It bubbled, it gurgled, and it ran merrily along its way.

It was only a few inches deep and wide, but it ran with a purpose. Looking downstream, past a picturesque stone bridge and through proud trees wearing their fall finery, I noticed that it vanished around a corner. I wondered where that little creek ran.

You can be sure," I thought, "That it runs to a small stream, and then maybe to the Ohio River, then on to the mighty Mississippi, then into to the great Gulf of Mexico, and then on to the wide Atlantic. "

A little idealistic and melodramatic, I know. But that little creek sang to me today as it burbled and gurgled and splished and plashed and ran like sliver thread past my small world.

There is something in a moving body of water like this that a person feels. I think it is possibility. You know that if you had the time, you could follow the path the water takes on a great adventure. Water flowing like this makes me itch to see what is around the next corner, under the next bridge, and through the next plain of grass. When following a waterway, you never know what you will see next. A tiny fish or a merry water bug, nature is just a stone's throw away.

But today, I had errands to run, groceries to buy, and friends to meet. "Goodbye little creek, perhaps we will explore together some other day," I thought, and turned my heels towards home.

These boots where made for walking . . .

In the movie, Forest Gump, the main character once said, “I can remember my first pair of shoes.”

Well, I can’t. Of course, my mom still has them, or at least she used to. They where a small white leather pair of high top boots. You know the kind; very popular back in days I was born. The type that was usually bronzed and placed on an end table for prosperity. Bealive it or not, you can still have baby shoes (and other items) bronzed by the American Bronzing Company.

Now baby shoes aren’t that traditional. They come in all shapes in sizes. Today, a baby’s first pair of shoes might be Air Jordan’s, or cute little sandals, or white sneakers from The Gap. None of these are actually good for baby’s feet, but they sure do look cute.

I was given at least 20 pairs of baby shoes. My son has never even worn a pair. First of all, he has inherited my obscenely large feet. If he isn’t wearing a size 14 by the time he is ten, I’ll be surprised. Also, he won’t let me come near his piggy’s with anything that looks, feels, or smells like substandard footwear. The minute I try to put them on, he either kicks them off, or screams bloody murder until I take them off.

As it’s turned cold, I had to find an answer to this problem. We can’t have his toes getting frostbite on them, can we? I searched and searched, and finally I found the answer in the form of a brand called Robeez. If you have kids, I highly recommend this brand.

Robeez were invented by a dad who had the same problem I had. They are basically little leather moccasins. They are soft, pliable, and safe for baby feet.

The best thing about them? My son loves them. The cute little design must be fun to look at, plus they protect his feet.

As I put these little moccasins on my son’s tiny feet, I wonder where in life they will take him. I wonder when he will take his first steps, what he will look like when he graduates from High School and College, what his bride will look like when he strides down the aisle. I’ve noticed I wonder about a lot of things these days.

I took my first steps on the journey of life in a pair of baby shoes. My shoes have taken me all over the place. From the Midwest, to out West, and back again. I have put one foot in front of the other and thought I couldn’t go on. I have tread the steps of the Vatican, the Coliseum, and the streets of Madrid. Shoes can take you places you never imaged. You just have to get them on your feet first!