**Make sure to check in tomorrow, when my friend Julia and I launch a brand new campaign to ring in 2010!**

My life has changed so much in the past 365 days...
So I thought, what better way to end 2009 than by looking back at all that I've lost and found this year.

What's Lost:
Remembering that not all that's lost should necessarily be found...
-My last 10 pounds of baby weight, and then another 10 pounds just for good measure
-My free time
-All responsibility for making dinner (thank you, DH!)
-Two of my favorite coworkers, who have both moved on to new jobs in the past three months
-DH's cell phone charger (still missing, even three months after this post)
-My ability-- and desire-- to keep my home clean and presentable
-My focus and drive at work; while I still give it my all every day, I realize my passion is no longer in a TV newsroom
-My fear of tomorow. For the first time in my life, I am truly happy with who I am-- and where my life is-- right now
-My inhibitions... being a mother is truly liberating. I now understand why my mother was never embarassed to be seen in public, in her pajamas, without makeup

What's Found:
Remembering that not all that's found is necessarily lost...
-300+ of the best darn bloggy friends a girl could ask for... and an outlet for all my creative passions
-Confidence in who I am and who I want to be, and the drive to do whatever it takes to get there
-A handful of cheesy poofs decaying underneath the living room sofa (ewwwwwww)
-Airing your innermost thoughts in public can lead to a lot of negative feedback
-There is a difference between being honest and being faithful
-Generousity and compassion from unexpected sources at unexpected times
-Living paycheck to paycheck can take a heavy toll on a person
-New desire for my husband, new awe in my daughter, more respect for myself

What have YOU lost and found in 2009?

Merry Christmas!

I truly believe this is the most magical time of the year...
So as my gift to you...
I leave you with Glee...
And you to never, ever...
(no matter what)
Stop B*E*L*I*E*V*I*N'...

I didn't-- and look what it got me!


I am taking a "blogging vacation" from now
until New Year's Eve... so enjoy your holidays with your family and I'll see you next week!
******************************
Speaking of things I "BELIEVE" in, please take a moment this weekend to check out my friend Rachel's website. She is working on a massive project-- a documentary on microlending to women in 3rd World Countries. These are women who struggle to put food on the table to feed their families-- if they even have have a table in the first place. During this time of the year, I think Rachel's quest to bring attention to these women and their plight is truly remarkable.

'Twas The Night Before Christmas
...according to me...

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...

...except for Mickey Mouse...
And Warehouse Mouse...
And all the other "mice"
my daughter loves to watch on TV!
(Of course G doesn't watch TV!)

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
(well, other than the ones the baby tore down and destroyed)
In hopes that Saint Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds (or cribs),
While visions of sugar plums (or animal crackers, aka "cookies") danced in their heads.

And I, in DH's ratty old t-shirt, and DH, in his ratty old boxer briefs,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap.

Problem #1: That doesn't rhyme.
Problem #2: Who can sleep with a toddler in the house?

When out on the lawn, there arose such a clatter,
I thought surely the Grinch had returned to steal the rest of our decorations.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Bumped my knee along the bedrail in the process and made a big CRASH!


The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,

Quit rolling your eyes,
I'm not writing another post
about boobs...

Gave a luster of mid-day to object below.

Well, that and the
1500 watt institutional-grade
street lights.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh...
And the cast of "Little People, Big World".
Does anybody else adore that show?
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it most be Saint Nick.

Not to be confused with
my cousin Nick.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
(It actually sounded a lot like the time
we had birds flying into our laundry exhaust pipes!)
As I drew in my head was turning around,
Down with the chimney he came with a bound.

Actually, the chimney part would
be a problem in our house,
because it's a faux chimney.

His eyes, how they twinkled; his dimples, so merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry.
He had a broad face and a round little belly...

...that kind of reminded me
of DH before he lost 90 pounds...

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work,
And kind of reminded me of that self-centered guy I dated right before DH who was kind of a jerk.

And laying a finger along side of his nose...

...did G teach him how to pick it?

And giving a nod up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

What does that even mean?
But I heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight...

Merry Christmas To All...
Thanks for visiting my site!

Before I start with today's planned post, I wanted to participate in my great friend Julia's weekly "Working Mommy Wednesday":

This week, she's asking us to share our Christmas card photos... and while this picture didn't get on our Christmas cards this year, there's a very good reason for that...

...just take a look.

I think this qualifies as a "Wordless Wednesday", don't you think?

Yeah... maybe next year...

*********************************

At the end of one of my favorite movies of all time, Dorothy Gale clicks her ruby-soled heels together and chants...

"There's no place like home,
There's no place like home,
There's no place like home."

She was right, you know...

And it's never a truer statement than at this time of the year...

At my own house.

You didn't think I meant
my parents home, did you?

Last year, we tried doing it my mom's way. We packed up 3-month-old G, car-sick-prone Ducky, and all our gifts and made the eight hour drive north to celebrate Christmas in my childhood home.

The dog threw up four times along the way...

My mom yelled at me for not waking G up at the crack of dawn to open presents...

And the baby came home with a double ear infection.

Needless to say, we're NOT doing that again this year.

Growing up, my parents always made sure I woke up Christmas morning in my own bed. Last year, G wasn't really sleeping all that much to begin with, so I didn't really think it mattered where she slept (or in our case, didn't sleep). But this year, our little nuclear family has its own habits, its own peculiarities, its own preferences.

So, we'll miss out on my mom's annual Christmas morning feast. We'll pass on the smoke-filled house crammed to the rafters with the cousins, aunts, uncles, and other various family members we rarely see. We'll skip on the midnight Christmas Eve mass and enjoy the afternoon children's service instead.

We'll do things our way...
...and start some new traditions as we go.

What traditions-- new or old-- are you most looking forward to participating in (or, like us, maybe starting) as we head into the holidays?

Just two days til Christmas...

Two days til we hang out stockings on the fireplace, set the cookies and milk out, and wait to hear Santa and his sleigh land on our rooftop.

He can't come down our chimney--
it's "faux".

And when we wake up in the morning, I'll truly believe he's been here. Because...

Yes, G, there is a Santa Claus.
And this week, I want to know...

Do you believe, too?

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Many years ago, my mom bought me the classic Christmas book, "Yes, Virginia, There Is A Santa Claus." And, yes readers, there is a real Virginia. The story is based off an actual girl named Virginia who wrote an actual letter to the New York Sun in 1897. One of that paper's columnists, Francis P. Church, wrote a reply which was published in the newspaper and has become holiday legend. Here's an excerpt:

"Yes, VIRGINIA, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy...

"No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."
I think it's one of the best-written, most emotionally-riveting letters I've ever read; and each year, I read it to G, just as my mother read it to me.

There may be some who say, "Why teach your child to believe in something that isn't real?"

To that, I reply:

"Says who?"


Because, in my mind and in my heart, Santa does live. He lives in the generousity of all those who donate their time to staff soup kitchens for hungry families. He lives in the spirit of those who buy gifts for complete strangers to place under my church's annual giving tree. He lives in the wink and the smile of a kind, old man at the grocery store who tries to calm my crying toddler.

Is he a real person? Maybe he was...

But his gifts... and the lessons... his undeniable spirit have taught us all most definitely are real.

So readers, is there a Santa Claus?

I've got the winner of the Brown Bear giveaway... but it's at the bottom of this post... sneaky me, trying to get you to read everything else first!

***************************************
Every kiss begins with...

...are you Kidding me???

Each year leading up to the holidays, we're bombarded by over the top commercials designed to play on our heartstrings.

There's the car with the red ribbon on top:


The golden-wrapped candy that's so highly touted, you'd think it was actually made from a precious metal:


But my personal favorite is:


Kay Jewelers, you win my fictitious award for...

Corniest Ad Of The Holidays!
Each year, the marketing folks at Kay come up with a new, sappy way of telling me that if I don't get a pricy piece of jewelry under the tree this year, DH has failed in his role as a husband and I will be completely and utterly unsatisfied for the next 364 days. One year, it was the mandate that I must get a journey necklace to signify all the milestones of my life (ok, I will admit-- the part where the parents give the baby a "sandwich" kiss made me tear up). Last year, it was a man giving his hearing-impaired girlfriend a new watch while stumbling through sign language.

But this year's edition of the corny Kay commercial goes over the top. It depicts a couple (husband and wife? boyfriend and girlfriend? coworkers? I'm not really sure) at a mountain retreat during a vicious thunderstorm (it's the winter marketing geniuses, I think a snowstorm would have worked a teensy bit better, but I'm a journalist, not a marketer... marketist?... marketing person). The thunder claps, and the woman turns fleeing from the super-scary window into the arms of her waiting man as he proclaims:

"I'm right here...
...And I always will be."
He pops out the new "Love's Embrace" necklace, which as apparently surplanted the journey necklace and infinity necklace as this year's "must have" jewelry item.

Then, the voiceover begins, the familiar marketing melody,

"Every kiss begin with 'K'"

...as in "Kay" Jewelers.

That's when I asked, "Are you kidding me?"
A great marketing campaign in a way, I suppose, because here I am blogging about it... and in an era where "There's no such thing as bad publicity", I guess I am milking the proverbial cow and giving the folks at Kay just what they want: attention.

C'mon Kay, let's level here. What women want isn't the necklace du jour, the piece that will proclaim to all who see it, "My husband bought this for me for Christmas 20__". We want something as unique and individual as we are. We want something that our husbands thought would be ideal for us, not mass-produced for every woman in America. We want something that will make us stand out, something that will make us shine like the singular stars that each one of us is! We want something that will not reek of the increasing commercialism and consumerism of the holidays.

This is one of my pet peeves of the Christmas season...

...What's yours?

***************************************
And now (drumroll, please), the winner of "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" is...

Kimberly @ Life At The Loxtercamps!
Congrats, Kimberly! You have 48 hours to email me at my.confessions@live.com to claim your prize!

Normally I take a much-needed break from blogging on Sunday, but this week, I just couldn't help but answering Keely's Sunday questions.

So, here they are...

I hope you'll play
along too!

1. Middle name?
I cannot share, for that it is now my maiden name, and that would be giving away just a tad too much information! However, I can say that before I got married, I didn't have a middle name at all. It's a family tradition of sorts on my mom's side of the family that girls are not given a middle name at birth, so that they can take on their maiden name as their middle name once they marry. I broke that tradition, though, when I gave birth to G and gave her a middle name. Bad Elizabeth!

2. What do you think is your best asset (physical)?
Well, I've blogged in the past about how it isn't my butt or my boobs. I guess I'd have to go with my flat stomach; for a woman who's had a baby, we all know that's an accomplishment!

3. If you could only eat one type of cuisine for a year, what would it be (Mexican, American,Chinese..etc.)?
This is actually the question that inspired me to write this post altogether. What a tough one, Keely! I love Mexican, but I tend to eat the same dish (enchiladas) over and over and over again. So I'd probably get bored with that after 365 days straight. With Chinese, I tend to do the same thing. Now, if you'd said Asian, that would have opened up a whole new world for me-- pad thai, curry, maybe Indian food would count too? That I could do. But not General Tso's chicken day after day after day. So, boring old American cuisine it is!

4. Walmart or Target?
Another good one! I have both stores just 3 miles from my house, and I tend to go to each one on a weekly basis. I do my basic grocery shopping at Walmart (milk, bread, eggs), but I buy little else there. I tend to go to Walmart when I must and Target (ahem, Tar-jay) when I please, so I guess there's your answer!

5. Favorite State besides the one you live in?
When I was growing up in Ohio, I always dreamed about living in the state I do now. It was my "dream state", so to speak, and ever since we moved here 3+ years ago, I've loved living here. Even with 4 inches of snow on the ground and an infinite number of morons on the roads driving 15 miles under the speed limit right now, I still love living in the South. So, I guess I'd have to say my homestate of Ohio is my 2nd favorite, simply because so many of the people I know and love still live there.

6. What side of the bed do you sleep on, left or right?
In our current house, I sleep on the right (well, if you're looking at the bed head on, it's the right. But if you're IN the bed, then it's technically the left-- does that make any sense?). But when we were first married, I slept on the opposite side. Basically, I always sleep on the side closest to the bathroom, even in hotels, even if that means switching our standard sides.

7. King or Queen size bed?
Queen-- much to DH's dismay. He's 6' 6" tall, and he really wants a California King. But when we were first married, we bought a gorgeous new bedroom set in a Queen because we didn't have enough room in our first place to fit a King. Since then, we've moved from an apartment to another apartment and finally to our house, but we still have that old Queen; we've vowed to stick with it until we move to yet another house. Then we'll upgrade.

8. Beer or wine?
This answer is continually changing. Before I got pregnant, I would have said wine hands down. But, during my pregnancy, DH developed a fondness for dark beers-- Newcastle, Yeungling, etc. They always smelled sooooo good to the woman who couldn't have even a sip. So, almost as soon as G was born and I could have a drink without feeling guilty, I tried DH's new favorite beers, and they quickly became my favorite too! Although, we do love to share a bottle of wine during our occasional date nights.

9. Water..ice-cold or room temp?
Ice cold! Is there any other way to drink it? Otherwise it tastes like bathwater! (Not that I drink bathwater...)

10. Christmas..love it or hate it?
LOVE IT! Hello? It's not so much the gifts that I enjoy (although I LOVE to give presents), it's the feeling in the air. It's the smiles on people's faces. It's the spirit. Who couldn't love that?

Once again, I'm going to try to cram in all my favorite Friday memes... while cleaning the house from head to toe! Hence the frantic part!

***************************************
I like to start with "Friday Fragments" from Mrs. 4444s-- this post really helps clean my head!

The closer we get to the holidays,
the more fragmented my thoughts become!

-I do not know how, but DH has managed to get a hole-- no, sorry, not a hole, but multiple, massive holes-- in each and every one of his socks (and undershirts, and underwear!). I buy him new sets of all three every year for Christmas, and every year by Thanksgiving he is walking around in tattered clothes. How do men do this? I have owned the same pairs of socks and underwear since I was in college, and trust me, those were some rough years, and not a hole to be found!!!

-I am downright glum over the absense of "Glee". Anybody else? I find myself absurdly attracted to YouTube, where I can watch and listen to the best musical performances of the fall season over and over (all right, and OVER) again. My favorite song right now is "Defying Gravity". The song alone makes me wish I'd had tickets for "Wicked" when it came to town last year.

-Speaking of music, G and I have been treating ourselves to rockout parties in the living room before bedtime lately. We only do it on days that DH works (even though he's back to days, he still doesn't get home til almost 8pm), so that we are free to dance and spin and sing and be silly without anyone's prying eyes (except possibly the neighbors, but they don't count, do they?). My crazy girl, she apparently only believes in partner dancing-- she loves to "get down", but only if I pick her up and dance with her!

-We are currently bracing for "Imminent Winter Catastrophe" here in the South-- aka, up to 4 inches of snow. Excuse me if I don't storm the nearest grocery store to stock up on milk and bread. I grew up in the Great Lakes; we often got a foot of fresh snow overnight. To me, four inches is diddly. I will, however, stay off the roads simply because the fools around here can't drive in the rain, let alone the snow.

-Keeping Tally: Number of times I kicked DH out of bed this week- two. I think we're still learning to adjust to his newly nocturnal sleeping habits.

***************************************
The (Un)Experienced Mom
wants to know:




If I had extra money to donate to charity, I would donate it to these 3 charities: _____________, ______________, ______________.
This is an easy and hard question at the same time! I have a couple of "favorite" charities, but then again, there are sooooo many more that are incredibly deserving of support!

Here is my answer, though:

#1: Ronald McDonald House
#2: March of Dimes
#3: Heifer International

Each of those answers links to the organization's home page, so go check them out for yourself!
***************************************
And somehow, Mama M always ends up last... simply because she posts last... and I can't get her to spill the beans ahead of time!


This week's questions are:

1. Which boygroup did you like most in your teens?
This is an easy one... N*Sync!!! I saw them three times in concert in the late '90s early '00s. In fact, one time, I made my then-boyfriend go with me... and we were thisclose to buying him a pair of pleather pants so he would look "good" at the concert. Oh dear. To this day, I am scared by the image of him in those things... Fortunately, better sense prevailed and we did not buy them.

2. Do you do Christmas cards, letters, photos, nuthin', all of the above?
We've always done just plain old Christmas cards; although, when we were newlyweds, I looked forward to having a baby so I could (in my mind) "justifiably" order photo cards. But we've been so busy the past two years, I've never had time to get them!

3. If you could meet one celebrity who would it be and why?
Um, is there any doubt it would be none other than Peyton Manning? I love that guy... I own his jersey, I may or may not have used his name as G's middle name... yup, it would be him! And an interesting Peyton Manning story-- you know Kevin Bacon and the whole "Six Degrees of Separation" game? Well, my male anchor at work is a lot like Kevin Bacon-- VERY well connect. Turns out, because of him, I am just THREE DEGREES away from Peyton! My anchor is old golfing buddies with Colts head coach Jim Caldwell, who obviously knows Peyton! Maybe one day, I'll meet him... sigh...

4. Favorite thing to cook with (i.e. stainless, non-stick, Dutch oven, microwave, debit card...or, perhaps, a cauldron, etc.)?
I love that Mama M included "debit card" in here. How about my husband? DH does all the cooking in our house; he fancies himself a bit of a foodie, while I hate to be in the kitchen (unless I'm cleaning it).

5. What is the one thing you wear the most, besides your unmentionables?
This is a tough one! I could say my favorite hair tie (um, yes, I do have a favorite hair tie... because it's the only one I've found that doesn't make my pony tail droopy or rip my hair out!). I could say it's my contacts. I could say my wedding band. But all those are sorta gimmes, like underwear. So I'm going to say my Rock n Republic jeans. I bought myself a pair as a "treat" for losing the baby weight, and I live in them! Jeans are fabulous; they are fashionable AND comfortable!

***************************************
And remember, I still need your...

Queen For A Week nominations


Entries for the "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" Giveaway

and...

Help Raising Money For Ronald McDonald House!

Forget the Lindburgh baby...

The crime of the century happened in my own front yard.
It was our first Christmas in our first house. Filled with the spirit of the holidays, DH & I embarked on a journey to the holiday mecca-- AKA, Lowe's Home Improvement. We bought wreaths, we bought bows, we bought lights, we bought lighted candy canes, and we bought this:


I'd always wanted one, but my mom swore these massive holiday inflatables were tacky. I couldn't disagree more. I think they are fabulous fun, so DH & I invested $100 and bought the one you see above. It was awesome. Not only was it taller than me, but the Santa and Snowman you see moved, alternately popping out of the igloo to wish "Season's Greetings" to all passersby.

DH & I (ok, ok, mainly DH... ok, only DH) put all our holiday decor into place as soon as December hit. And then, just a few days later, the thieves hit us.

They struck in the middle of the night when visions of sugarplums danced in our heads. They stealthily parked on my lawn (how do we know this? They left tire tracks that, if you look at the grass from just the right angle, are still visible today). They snatched my giant, inflatable igloo from its grounding stakes and got away, stealing my Christmas spirit right along with it.

When I woke up in the morning and took Ducky (then just a puppy) outside for her morning walk, I knew something was different, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't until I saw the orphaned power cord, left behind during the commission of this crime, that my sleep-hazed brain realized what had happened:

The Grinch had stolen my Christmas.


I was devastated. I called in sick to work, only telling my bosses I'd been the victim of a robbery (they were probably envisioning something far more brazen than what had actually happened); I called the police, telling them I wanted to file a report (they told me stuff like this happened all the time, and while they would take a report, the chances of finding my pilfered decoration was highly unlikely); then, I called my mom and cried like a baby (she said she couldn't understand why anyone would want anything so tacky, making me sob even harder).

Why would anyone do something so hurtful in the midst of what is supposed to be a time of goodness and generousity? For days, I forced DH to scour all the neighborhoods in our area, searching for our purloined inflatable igloo. I had dreams of what I would say, what I would do, if he hit the jackpot. He never did. I had to come to grips--

--it was gone for good.

The only thing that got me through was the thought that maybe, my massive Santa and Snowman and their igloo home had ended up in the yard of a young child, who would enjoy it even more than me. A child who had no idea their father/brother/uncle/friend had stolen my Christmas dreams to make theirs come true.

In the years since, we've never replaced the snatched snowhouse. And I don't plan to. Quite honestly, when the so-called "Grinch" stole that single decoration, he stole a lot of my faith in my fellow man right along with it. That thief's heart might have already been cold, but he turned a part of mine to ice as well.

Hopefully it will
one day melt.

Brown Bear, Brown Bear,
What Do You See?

I see a woman who has read the same book 17 times in the past 24 hours looking at me!

...and I know I'm not
the only one!

Being a mom means many things. It means endlessly changing diapers. It means long, often sleepless nights. It means continuously answering "what's that?". And, it means reading the same book over...

...and over...

...and over.

Right now, G is utterly fascinated with the children's classic "Brown Bear, Brown Bear". She's so in love with it that, in her fanaticism, she has ripped several of the pages (they've been saved with tape, for now). She's so in love with it that she asks me to read it every half hour of the day. She's so obsessed in love with it that I have seriously considered hiding it under the couch cushions so we can read something-- anything!-- else.

But, just as I was about to pull out my hair after pointing out the blue horse and the red bird for the umpteenth time, I came across this long-forgotten newspaper article my own mother had sent to me straight from the "Life" section of "The Cleveland Plain Dealer":

Why your child wants you to read 'Goodnight Moon' for the 400th time, and why you should do it with a smile
My mom had carefully clipped out this article months earlier, and sent it to me pressed inside the cover of (yet another) book she'd purchased for her one and only grandbaby. I'd either misplaced it, forgotten about it, set it aside (or all of the above), and came across it just as my sanity was about to snap.

I must confess, I have seriously considered murdering the yellow duck, or setting the white dog hot on the tail of the purple cat in hopes of silencing one of the two forever. But then I read this article-- and I remembered that I want my daughter to love reading. I want her to seek shelter in my lap, to lose herself in the words and images on that fragile paper. I want her to use books as a launching pad for her own dreams, hopes, and adventures.

So, Brown Bear remains on G's overflowing book shelf, ready to be repeatedly pulled out, handed to me with the demand of "Read, read", and poured over with newfound exuberance multiple times a day.


Now I want to pass G's favorite book on to you!

Here's how you can enter this giveaway and get a copy of this book-- including a CD of Gwyneth Paltrow reading it!-- for your little book-lover!

1) Follow my blog
2) Leave a comment on this post
3) Post about this giveaway on your own blog
4) Add my button to your blog
5) Add my blog to the list of ones you follow on your blog's home page

Remember, leave a separate comment for EACH ENTRY!

You have until Sunday night at 11:59pm to enter...
I'll announce the lucky winner Monday morning!

Good luck!

For the past several weeks, my mom has been looking forward to this month's debut of the new series "Ghost Intervention" on TLC.

(Cue spooky music here)

Not only does she enjoy watching ghost stories on TV as if they were appointment television, but she adamently believes in them.

And that brings us to this week's Truthful Tuesdays question:

Do you believe in ghosts?

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Ever since I came up with this post, I've been singing this line from the Christmas carol, "It's The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year":

There'll be scary ghost stories,
And tales of the glories,
Of Christmases long, long ago!
OK, seriously, what does Christmas have to do with ghosts?

At first glance, your answer is probably what mine was: Absolutely Nothing.

But then I thought about it a little bit more. Each year at Christmas, families gather to share stories of all kinds, but, if your family is like mine, then you probably hear endless stories from some of your oldest family members about the "Good Ole Days". And that's where my family's ghost story begins.

Each year, my grama-- the family matriarch-- regails us with the following tale:

"It was the 1970s, and Cousin T was finally getting married. As was, is, and always will be standard protocol in our tradition-laden family (said with a knowing look to all younger family members who may consider doing otherwise), it was a 2pm wedding followed by a 6pm reception. The adult family members needed a way to kill time between the church ceremony and the reception, so they headed to the neighborhood bar (back in the days when all good, Slovenian neighborhoods had their own bar).

"I was sitting at the bar when suddenly, Auntie Ursula's husband, Charlie, came up to talk to me. That might sound normal to you, but keep in mind, Charlie had been dead for six years by this point. But you wouldn't know it by looking at him. He looked great, for a guy who'd been six feet under for so long. Anyway, Charlie told me he wished he'd been able to go to the wedding to see his grandson, T, finally tie the knot. He told me he'd come back for one last dance with Auntie Ursula.

"That's when I got a little worried. Because, as all good Slovenians know (casting another knowing glance to the younger generation), the appearance of a dead spouse only means one thing: he's come to collect his wife. So, it wasn't a matter of "if" in my head. It was a matter of when. Not wanting to alarm the wedding party, I kept this to myself as we left the bar-- and Charlie-- behind and headed off to the reception.

"Maybe I should have said something. Maybe it would have made a difference. All I know is, half way through the soup course (another Slovenian wedding tradition-- and always made from liver dumplings), Auntie Ursula bit it. Dead as a doornail. I guess Charlie got what he came for."
So in our family-- where every fourth wedding seems to coincide with a funeral-- we do believe in ghosts.

Do you?

Update!
(December 21st)
Since I first wrote this post last week, I took an entire day off from work and did NOT clean my house from top to bottom. Of course, my daughter did NOT return home from her day at the sitter's and did NOT destroy my clean oasis in mere moments... but it was completely, utterly, 100% mess-free... for about 15 minutes!

********************************

This dirty little post brought to you by:


Let's start what I promise will be a dirty, nay, filthy post by coming clean...

I have not NOT (notice the double negative there? sometimes I confuse even myself on "Not Me! Mondays") cleaned my house since Halloween.

Scary, right

Cleanliness is one of the casualties
of my life as a working mom.

Before G came along, I adhered to a strict cleaning regimen, patterned after my own mother's routine, which I witnessed week after week as a child:

Mondays: Laundry
Tuesdays: Bathrooms
Wednesdays: Kitchen
Thursdays: Floors
Fridays: Bedrooms
Saturdays: Dust... everywhere
Sundays: Day of Rest (as God intended, and Mom needed)
Visitors to my house used to comment how neat and tidy everything was... emphasis on was. These days, not so much.

I do NOT
hate to clean.

PERIOD.

I can tell you the exact moment I went from a veritable merry maid to a slovenly housekeeper:

Child birth.
The week before I gave birth to G, I did not go on a torrent of nesting, cleaning bits and pieces of my home no one-- including DH or myself-- had ever noticed were dirty in the first place. But almost as soon as I came home from the hospital, I lost all ability... all desire... to keep even a presentable home.

It's a miracle my newborn G wasn't swallowed up by a dust bunny, or at the very least, develop strong allergies because of them.

When my maternity leave ended and I went back to work, things at home did not get even dirtier. Toilets went uncleaned for weeks at a time. The carpet became so disgusting that I almost found myself asking DH to replace it as my one and only Christmas gift. Sure, to unprying, non-judgmental eyes, it might have looked clean on the surface. But anyone who looked closely would have noticed dust upon crud about dirt. Disgusting.

Here is where I must
interject to sincerely thank my
friends and family for keeping quiet
as my house self-destructed.

For a while, I berated myself for falling short of my lofty, "have it all" standards. For a while, I was not incredibly disappointed in myself for failing to be the perfect wife, mother, and housekeeper.

Then (thanks in large part to my amazing counselor, "T") I had an epiphany: I didn't have to be infallible (leave that to the Pope). I just had to be me. I just had to do my best. I just had to align my priorities. Being a wife and mother came first, far above everything else. Then, it was being a good daughter, a good friend, a good employee. The more I evaluated my life and took stock of what was truly important, I realized that keeping an impeccable house wasn't worth the time or effort.

So I let go...

I did NOT stop doing laundry every Monday.
I did NOT stop cleaning toilets on Tuesday.
I did NOT stop cleaning altogether.

And in doing so, I did NOT find more quality time with DH; I did NOT find more opportunities to cuddle with G. I did NOT find myself loving my dirty, chaotic life.

But, my OCD remains...

And so...

I have NOT taken Friday off
to clean my house from top to bottom.

~cringe~

I do not figure I can knock out two months of cleaning in one day (oh, all right, I've only set aside half a day!). And I definitely do not figure in doing so, I can keep the vacuum (or is it vaccum? see, I spend so little time with that torture tool of housekeeping these days that I can't even remember how to spell it!) in the closet until Valentine's Day... at least.

What can I say? Old habits do NOT die hard.

Why is it that so many of you have great blog hops on Fridays??? I can never decide whose to participate in... so once again, this week I am going to cram all of them into one post!

But first... I have a special request! I'm sure many of you are already familiar with The Blog Frog. Now, the folks over there are offering to donate $10 to The Children's Hospital Network for every blogger who adds 20 new active members to their community between now and Christmas. What makes you an active member? Glad you asked. You must sign up to follow and comment on at least one discussion. After G spent time in NICU after her birth, I have such amazing gratitude and respect for the medical community and feel like this is the LEAST I can do to help out. In addition to the $10 donation The Blog Frog will make in my name, I will donate $1 to Ronald McDonald House (another organization we greatly benefitted from during G's first week and a half with us!) for every NEW follower I get on my blog OR on my Blog Frog community over the next two weeks. It'll be like my own little Christmas gift to a pair of great organizations. So, sign up, spread the love, and tell your friends, and let's make this a great holiday for kids and their families everywhere!

***************************************
Now on to my first favorite Friday meme (in no particular order)...
"Friday Fragments" from Mrs. 4444s!

A couple of fraggalicious updates...

-Many of you have asked how weaning G has gone. It's been great! It's given me a lot less anxiety at bedtime (I didn't realize how sick I was of nursing bras!), and she hasn't noticed it what-so-ever. In fact, we've replaced nursing time with reading time.

-DH has now been off night shift for a week. I've only kicked him out of bed once (ok, ok, twice-- but that second time was because I was sick and hacking up a storm and was concerned he wasn't getting enough rest in our bed... and you'd never expect the sick person to seek shelter elsewhere in the middle of the night, would you?). But I love the feeling knowing that I'll get to see him every night after work. It makes the nights so much less lonely.

-Yes, I am still sick. This blows chunks (although, mercifully, I have not been blowing chunks... it's not that kind of illness). I would be much closer to getting better if a certain 14-month-old child in my household (not naming names, or anything) had not woken me up in the middle of the night the past two nights screaming my name only for me to burst into her room in a panic to hear her ask, "Play?" No G (geez, I outed her!!!), 2am is not the appropriate time to play with your doll.

Now for some other, non-updatey frags...

-I have this crazy patch of dry skin on my face (positioned in the same spot as Cindy Crawford's infamous mole) that just will not go away. In fact, it looks like someone burnt me with a cigarette-- it's a perfect circle. I heard your skin loses elasticity and the ability to fully heal as you grow older, but c'mon, I'm 27... I'm not that old.

-We finally decided to go ahead and put up the Christmas tree. It's actually worked out pretty well! I only have a handful of ornaments on there-- I decided to keep my most-treasured ones in the box this year-- and everything from about the waist down is plastic or plush and entirely kid-friendly. So far, so good... finger's crossed!

-I have been to a dozen first birthday parties this year, and not a single adult birthday party during that same time frame. It makes me feel (A) like somebody's (B) very uncool mother.

***************************************
Now, moving on to The (Un)Experienced Mom's
"Fill In The Blank Friday"




The children's show I can't stand is _________.
But the one I secretly like is ________.

Ok, Tamara, we must be brothers from another mother (or in our case, sisters), because I have considered asking the exact same question on Truthful Tuesdays!

To answer the first part, the children's TV show I can't stand is:

Yo Gabba Gabba--
Honestly, DJ Lance gives me the heebie jeebies.
And the children's TV show I secretly love is:

Imagination Movers--
I have a secret jonesing for Mover Rich. Ow ow!
***************************************
Moving on to Mama M's "Five Question Friday"...


This week's questions are:

1. Does Santa wrap the presents he leaves at your house?
Absolutely! Although this year, my parents are starting a new tradition of using reusable fabric bags. They are so "green" (only because it's trendy, I think, not because it's the right thing to do unfortunately). That means the presents they give us will be only-kinda-sorta wrapped. But you better believe I will waste unGodly amounts of paper on my family's gifts!

2. When is your "big" Christmas celebration...Christmas Eve or Christmas Day? Tell us about it...
We have always been big Christmas Eve people in our family. For years, we've gathered with my Godparents on Christmas Eve for mass and a big dinner. But this year, DH & I are staying at home with G, and he has to work til 7pm on Christmas Eve, so for the first time, we'll be going to Christmas Day mass instead. I'm a little non-plussed, but it will be ok.

3. Are you big on keeping tradition every year?
Ever seen "Fiddler On The Roof"? Traditiooooooooooon! Yes, tradition is the glue that holds my family together, even if we're hundreds of miles apart. I know that my mom will be ticking the days off with her advent calendar, addressing her Christmas cards, and listening to carols as she drifts off to sleep on Christmas Eve. And I will be doing the exact same things!

4. Do colored lights or white lights tickle your fancy?
We used to be a colored lights family. Then we (gasp!) broke with that tradition (ok, so maybe I'm not as big on keeping tradition as I thought!) and splurged on a pre-lit tree this year (DH refused to string the old, outdated, energy-inefficient lights on our old faux tree any longer). The tree I liked best only came with white lights, so that's what we've got. But come here and I'll tell you a secret... shhhh, I actually like those white lights better!

5. Do you decorate outside your house for Christmas?
Definitely! We used to go overboard, but then something awful happened. I actually think I'm going to blog about that hideous event sometime next week, so I won't spoil the story now!

***************************************
And remember...
I am still looking for your nominations for
Queen for a Day!

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target="_blank" title="Confessions from a Working Mom">
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alt="Confessions from a Working Mom" /></a>

Click on the blog button above for details, then email me at my.confessions@live.com to tell me who you think I need to honor, recognize, and spoil rotten!

Her name is Elizabeth.
She is the reigning monarch of England.
And I share a name with her.

I don't consider that to be a coincidence.
I've taken my royal name as a bit of a birthright.

I celebrate my birthday the entire month of April.
I regularly wear tiaras and sashes on my birthday and other holidays.
I even have one of those cheeky little pillows that proclaims my home "my kingdom".

Is that proof enough?

Now, I want to share my royal fortune with you.

Starting in January, I will crown one of my followers "Queen of the Week" on my blog. That person will get prime billing at the top of my blog every day for that entire week, so that you (her royal subjects) can go and check out her awesomeness. But that's not all! Every two months, I will use a random number generator to select which "Queen" from the prior eight weeks will receive a $10 gift card to Starbucks, so she can have some royal "me time".

Want in?
It's simple to play along.

Starting now, just send your nominations (it is completely a-ok to nominate oneself... a true queen must have confidence in herself, am I right?) to this email addres:

My.Confessions@live.com
Tell me why you or one of your friends deserves this little dose of extra attention (and caffeine!). Then, each week starting in January, I will "crown" our queen for the week. All you are asked to do in return is add this cool little button to your blog to say, "Yes, I've Been Crowned!"

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It's a giveaway... it's a coronation... it's recognition for your blog-diggity-awesomeness.

For the past three years, nine months, and two weeks, my husband has been a slave to the night.

He worked night shifts.
It was something we thought would be temporary when he settled on a career in law enforcement after that injury I talked about a few weeks ago ended his football dreams.

But it followed us... like a nightmare... when we moved from the Dirty South to The Carolinas.

And, whether either of us wanted to admit it or not, it changed our marriage-- our lives-- and not necessarily for the better.

Today, my great blogger friend Julia is upping the ante on her "Working Mommy Wednesday" meme, and I wanted to help her kick it off on the right foot. She wants to know...

Have you ever-- or would you consider-- calling in sick, even if you weren't?



Back when DH first worked nights, it was only on a rotating basis: two weeks on day shift, two weeks on night shift. That was doable. Then, earlier this year when G was just a few months old, DH's bosses at the sheriff's office came up with a hairbrained questionable idea to go to permanent shifts. For reasons never quite made clear to us, DH was one of five people in the ENTIRE department not given his preference of shifts.

Does anybody else find it
surprising that half of DH's coworkers
actually wanted to work overnight?

To be honest, it was miserable. DH & I often passed like strangers in the night. We didn't go to sleep at the same time, even on his days off. We didn't wake up at the same time. We often went 12-day stretches during which we only saw each other for 15 minutes here, 30 minutes there, and nothing more.

And even though it was his career, it affected my job too. I've talked about how I had to give up on two promotions because of his schedule. It also meant I wasn't available to fill in in a pinch when people called out sick. And it meant that basically every single sick day I've taken over the past year was not because I was sick.

DH makes more money than I do.

His job has more room for growth than mine does.

His job has less flexibility than mine.

So that meant when the sitter was out sick, I took the day off to stay home with G. That meant when DH was sick on his days off, I took the day off to watch G. It also meant that, when I had already gone more than a week without spending any meaningful time with my husband, I took the day off to enjoy my family.

I've used DH's nocturnal
schedule as a crutch......as a reason...

...as an excuse.

And now...
DH had been chosen to move back to days.
I'm not sure what to think. On one hand, for the first time in almost my entire marriage, I will have my husband at home-- in bed with me-- every single night! But, at the same time, for the first time in almost my entire marriage, I will have my husband at home-- in bed with me-- every single night.

So what now?

Now, I lose that crutch, that reason, that excuse that kept me from reaching for the stars. That kept me from sleeping under those same stars next to my husband. That forced me to-- yes, at times-- lie to my co-workers and even my friends about why I wasn't around.

Now, DH & I learn to be a "normal" (really, what is normal these days?) couple... really for the first time in our marriage.

Now, maybe I end up with more sick days to use for days like today-- when I actually... am... sick!

Have you checked the calendar?

Are you counting the days?

Are you ready?

Just 17 days til Christmas.

Not that I'm counting.

And that brings us to this week's Truthful Tuesdays question:

What do you really want for Christmas?
...or Hanukkah, or Kwanzaa, or Eid...
If this is your first time visiting, welcome! It's great to have you. There are several ways to play along. You can leave a comment with your answer, post about this topic on your own blog, grab my button (oooh, sounds kinky!), even enter your blog in the MckLinky at the bottom of this post!

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Last week, the Divine Miss M (that's Mama M over at "Five Crooked Halos") asked her readers for their favorite holiday song...

...I told you mine, and hinted at the rest of the story (thank you, Paul Harvey).

Here it is:

For years, I have adored the Mariah Carey carol "All I Want For Christmas Is You". When I was a college dance team coach, my girls performed a half-time dance to this song, decked out in slinky costumes and festive Santa hats. I still can't hear the refrain without pounding my feet in time with the choreographed kickline finale...

But the song took on a different meaning the year I was trying to get pregnant. Christmas Eve '07 fell on what would have been the first day of my second trimester for my first pregnancy. But instead of rubbing my growing baby belly, I was instead rubbing my red, swollen, tear-filled eyes after an early miscarriage. I was crushed. All that year, whenever I heard "All I Want For Christmas", I would sing along, pointing at my flat belly. You were all I wanted that year. You were the only thing DH couldn't wrap and put under the tree.

He tried, though, oooooooh he tried. He bought me this Precious Moments figurine:


It's name?

"Dreams Really Do Come True"

When I opened what has perhaps gone down as the most sentimental gift he's ever given me that Christmas morning, tears poured down my cheeks. I was touched; I was grieved; I was saddened. I didn't believe.

But I should have...

...I was already
four days pregnant.

That little holiday gift-- the one we hadn't realized DH had given me until after the New Year-- became this holiday reality one year later:

Last year, I was in the midst of my maternity leave and we were poor without my paycheck, so Christmas was very low key.

This year, we are doing a little better finacially and there is some wiggle room in our budget for gifts. DH keeps pestering me (every single night!) for gift ideas; would I like a deep fryer? A new cell phone charger? Maybe some silky, sexy lingerie? (Uh, wouldn't that be a gift for him, not me?)

"No," I tell him to all those suggestions.
The one gift I wanted, he already got me.

Because all I ever wanted for Christmas...

...was her:

There will always be new clothes, new jewelry, new electronics under the tree...

But what do you really want for Christmas
that money can't buy?




And to all my SITStas...
Merry SITSmas!