TWO FORWARD ONE BACK

Pick up any Womens Magazine, and they'll tell you the same thing—women are complicated, men are simple. Women can never say what they mean, and men ONLY say what they mean.

Unless of course they're lying, cheating manipulators, in which case, if your instincts tell you so, it's perfectly harmless to check your partner's text messages, Ladies!

On the other hand, if he reads yours, he CLEARLY has trust issues, and you should run don't walk the other way. Also, he'll probably always choose his mother over you anyhow, so you're just saving yourself years of heartache and arguments.

It's no small wonder that some women are so screwed up. It's also why I tend to give those magazines a wide berth, preferring instead to immerse myself in child raising, home decorating, and recipes for really great chocolate cake.

But sometimes, during a seemingly harmless bout of internet searching, I get a bit lost. I start out watching videos of cats on youtube, and then before I know it, I've wandered down some dark alleyway, and I'm reading horrified, mouth hanging open about how if I cut my hair wrong he'll never love me again, and if I don't lose all of my baby weight (not that there is any, big fat knock on wood) pronto, I'd better start reading those text messages and hacking his Facebook.

And I've come to the conclusion, after a few too many bathroom trips at 2am where my brain springs to life unbidden, is that I don't know the men these articles are about. Even back in High School, my primary experience was with men (boys) who didn't ever say what they meant. Take my first two boyfriends:

#1: “You shouldn't come drop me off at college, there's a lot of hills on campus, and you just got stitches.” (True.)

What he meant was: I already have another girlfriend lined up, and I know we've been together for several years, but don't worry, I'll break up with you in an email later, and blame you for not caring enough to drop me off at school. (True story.)

#2: “My grandma has been encouraging me to take some time for self-reflection, and I think I have to do that alone.” (Who the hell even knows.)

What he meant was: I have no clue what I want, but I will spend the next ten years calling and emailing you and begging you to take me back. At the same time I will blame you for the failure of all of my subsequent relationships, and then wonder in long messages why you never ever pick up the phone.

Of course, High School boys aren't the only ones who are guilty of not saying what they mean. Rick says things with hidden meanings all the time. He says things like “Do you have your cell phone with you?”, “I'm not moving this car until you put on your seat belt”, “Go back inside the house and put on some real shoes”, and “Don't you get out of that chair until you've finished all that water.”

What do all of these things really mean? Well, I've gotten better at man-speak since High School. It's as obvious to me as if he were simply screaming it in my face.

They're all just ways of saying “I love you. I want you to be safe. I want to keep you forever.”

Merriam-Webster defines chivalry as marked by honor, generosity, and courtesy, or, more specifically, marked by gracious courtesy and high minded consideration, especially toward women.

The first time I remember encountering different viewpoints about this was in High School. I was on a double date with a friend of mine...my date come around to open my door for me, while my friend opened her own door. Her date was halfway there and lookedconfused. “I don't need you to do things for me.” She said defensively. “I can do them myself.”

Later, when I asked her why she was so hell bent on not letting her date do simple courteous things for her, she responded with a “Why should he?” I didn't have an answer, I'm still not sure I do.

Do I expect men to go out of their way to be courteous? Expect is probably too strong a word, since it's definitely rarer these days. I am pleasantly surprised when they do, and as a result, I never take it for granted. I always make sure to make eye contact, smile and thank them, both because I'm genuinely grateful, and because I know that the few men who venture to behave in this manner aren't always treated so kindly.

Because really, if we're going to be honest about it all, I think women have wrecked this for themselves. I think they want equality when it's convenient, and then, on the flip side of the coin, they want to be treated chivalrously when that is convenient. (Such as the women who go on dates simply because they expect it to be a free meal.) I don't really think that feminism and chivalry can coexist, at least not peacefully.

Let's be clear here...I'm not talking about holding a door when you go into a store or restaurant. I mean, that's basic good manners, I hold doors for anyone after me, and I get mildly irritated when the person preceding me lets them slam in my face. I don't think behavior like that has anything to do with chivalry. But the man who offers to help me carry groceries when I'm alone, the one who reaches for things on the top shelf when he sees I'm a bit too short, Hell, the delivery driver who picks up my dog's poop when he sees me bending for it, simply so I don't have to bend over...these are all chivalrous behaviors, and without a doubt favors that some women would turn down.

And lately, and especially in the wake of figuring out how to raise a daughter, I've been thinking about this a lot. Do I want my daughter to believe she can do anything? Of course I do. However, I also want her to be able to accept things from men without feeling like she's sacrificing an important part of her identity, or equality. Ideally, I would like her to graciously say thank you, and most importantly, to be able to identify the men who are chivalrous because it is in their nature, versus the men who are putting on a show as a precursor to sex.

I researched this on the internet a bit before writing this blog post, and was saddened by how the results came back. One man said “I never pay for a first date,” (which left me thinking if I went on a date with him, there probably would not be a second.) Further on in the commentary, one woman said “I take chivalry as saying "you're cute and fragile as a woman, let a man do [this act] for you, so you don't hurt yourself". Makes me mad, I'm not fragile, and it comes from misogyny because it basically re-enforces the stereotype of women being the "weaker sex".”

I asked my husband about this, even reading the above quote to him, and he snorted and rolled his eyes. “It's not that you can't, it's that you shouldn't have to.” When I questioned him further, he said “Women aren't the weaker sex, they're the fairer sex. And when have you ever seen the fairer sex have to carry things?” He then continued on. “Maybe some men have a misogynist attitude, but I don't think it's the norm.”

And here's the thing—I have never felt that someone did something courteous for me, something chivalrous because they hated me. I never felt like they wanted me to feel weak. There are differences between the sexes, both physical and mental. Whether or not those differences are coded into our genetics, or whether they come from societal expectations, I couldn't say. But why pretend they're not there? It's not that I think one sex is any less capable than the other—Rick makes a bed better than I can, but he's also my resident spider killer and jar opener. We're pretty darn comfortable in our gender roles, but he doesn't have any problem doing more domestic tasks if I'm sick, or if I just need help. So, as I said, it's not about capability, it's about preference. Why some women feel the need to both insist on equality AND demand to be treated with chivalry doesn't make sense...the same as saying that when men are chivalrous that they're being disrespectful to woman' equal standing within society.

What's a man to do when there's not a clear cut standard of behavior anymore? And moreover, how do I raise a daughter when either way there's someone looking down at her? If she lets a man open her car door, some will see her as anti-woman, or a doormat. If she opens her own door, others will see her as being unable to appreciate good manners, or worse yet, a militant feminist. The best I can hope for, I think, is to set a good example. To show her that her Dad can carry things for me all the time if he likes, but that it is important to not take advantage of his kindness. And that while there is nothing wrong with handing a jar to him so he can open it for me, should I find it too difficult, there is nothing wrong with opening my own jar either.

Here we go again, continued from 2009 and 2010.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?

Had a second dog.  Had to give up that second dog.  Peed on a stick on got a positive result.  Found out we were having a girl.  Celebrated my dog's third birthday.  Went to a quilt festival in the mountains to escape the Summer.  Got a sewing machine and sewed my first quilt.  And curtains!

It was a really great year for us.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?


Well, let's go down the list:

1. Give up soda. Again. Really this time.

No.  However.  I did switch to Coke Zero and was doing very, VERY well with that until I got pregnant, and I stopped drinking it because of the Aspartame.  So I'll give myself 1/2 credit.

2. Build a decent savings.

We actually did have one.  It got depleted, but we had a Savings, for awhile.

3. Either move from Arizona, or take a real trip. This is the year, dammit.

/Sigh.  No.  No, we're still here.

4. See my Dad. Because 6 years is just too long.

Yes!  I don't have any real pictures of this, because once he was here, I got shy.  But we did see him, and had a very nice visit to boot.

5. Get a friend for Quil. His name will be Embry. You've all been warned.

Sort of.  We got Leah.  It didn't work out the way we'd expected.  But yes.

6. Sew my Wedding Quilt.

It's not done, but I did do quite a bit of work on it, yes!

7. Be a more consistant cook, ie, not flounder in the kitchen and ask Rick what's for dinner and then give up and eat cereal. That won't work forever.

Hahahaha.  No.  WHY don't I have the figure out dinner every night gene?  WHY?

I actually love making New Year's Resolutions.  The beginning of the year makes me feel like I can do anything.  Most of the resolutions I would make this year involve parenting, and that just seems to be so full of hubris I can barely even think them, let alone publically resolve them.  But, I do resolve to:

1. Remind myself that I won't be in the hard baby stage forever, and remind myself often of that when I am sleep deprived.

2. Do my best to treat my body well duing recovery and after.  I want to do this again, and the healthier I am, the easier it will be.

3. Find the perfect place for us to live.

4. Send gifts on time.  I am so terrible at this.  It's never that I forget, I write them on time, always.  Then they sit in my mail bucket until they're late.

5. Finish my wedding quilt.

Five sounds good, no?

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?


Rick's cousin fathered a baby, which is as close as we're going to get here.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Not this year, thankfully, no.

5. What countries did you visit?

I visited the Ethnic Foods Aisle at Fry's.  That's it folks.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?

A home, as opposed to an apartment.  A child outside of my body.  Normal, everyday time with my family.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

July 14th, the day I got my positive pregnancy test.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?


Making and (so far maintaining) a healthy baby.  I'm sorry, this year is definately baby-centric!

9. What was your biggest failure?

It's a toss-up.  I feel like I should have fought harder for Leah.  And the money thing, which I continue to struggle with.  Probably one of those things.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Aside from slightly elevated pregnancy-induced high blood pressure, nope.  Oh, or the morning sickness that almost put me in the hospital.  Or the heartburn at 2:00 in the morning like it's on cue?  Nope.  

11. What was the best thing you bought?

Hmm.  I actually don't know that anything big stands out here?  My new cell-phone is pretty cool, but I don't know that I'd call it the best thing.  Besides that, it was free, so I'm not even sure it qualifies.

12. Where did most of your money go?

Rent, Food, the Electric Bill.  It's expensive to cool this place down in Summer!

13. What did you get really excited about?

The baby!  Rick taking the day off to take me to see Twilight.

14. What song will always remind you of 2011?

Oh, a million times this one.

15. Compared to this time last year, are you:


Happier or Sadder: Happier, by far.

Fatter or Thinner: Am fatter, weigh less.  Yes, I know it's odd.  So far I'm crossing everything I have and hoping it stays that way.

Richer or Poorer: Richer.

16. What do you wish you’d done more of?


Exercising, though I made a definite improvement in the first half of the year.  Saving, instead of spending.  Visiting family.

17. What do you wish you’d done less of?


Throwing up.  Hands down.

18. How did you spend Christmas?

Like this!

19. What was your favorite TV program?

Vampire Diaries.  Or Big Bang Theory, depending on my mood.  True story.

20. What were your favorite books of the year?

I think I had mostly rereads this year.  Some baby books, but none of those make the favorites list.  I read some short fluffy Amish Romances (yes, they're a real thing), but I can't even remember the names of them now, I read them once, and gave them to my Mom.

21. What was your favorite music from this year?


Adele or Romantic Country.  

22. What were your favorite films of the year?

Harry Potter, Breaking Dawn, Thor.  (Yes, seriously there too!  Thor rocked my socks this year.)

23. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Rick and I went out to dinner with my Dad.  I turned 26.  Soon, we're going to get to the point where I stop answering this question.

24. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Having paid back all of our debts.  Living somewhere (almost anywhere) else.

25. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?

Pajama pants, sweat-stained shirts (YOU try throwing up when it's 120 degrees.)  And maternity clothes.

26. What kept you sane?

Rick.  My dog.  My mother, even though she is so very far away.

27. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.


Worrying won't change the outcome of anything, and it's better to not worry about something until you have to.  Sometimes a hug can be magic.  And you can never say "I love you" too many times.

Lastly, some notable pictures from the year:

Rick and I LOVE Christmas.  It's one of those questions people should ask before they get too serious about their relationships, because there is no way I could imagine being in a relationship with someone who could simply take or leave Christmas.  Thankfully, even though I didn't check, we're on the same wavelength about this, so we usually go all out.

Every December, we turn on the Christmas music, and pack the DVR full of Christmas movies.  We look at lights, bake cookies and send cards.  It's magical, and this year, even so far away from family was just no exception.

On Christmas Eve, we made cookies for Santa.  I had a craving for Giant M&M cookies, but you couldn't have paid me enough to go to the mall and get any, so we made our own, and reasoned that Santa would like a fresh cookie anyways.

Yes, this is no joke--the recipe called for measuring out 1/4 cup of dough and rolling it in M&Ms.  Excuse the errant cookie--we ran out of M&Ms.  Not because I ate them out of the bowl or anything.

Seriously.

They were perfect when they came out, so we left them for Santa:

An explanation of our Santa plate: The cookie was in a bag, because we reasoned he wouldn't be thrilled about a cookie with cat hair on it.  The mug is empty for much the same reason, but we got the coffee ready to go, in case he wanted a cup of coffee.

We searched the fridge for carrots and celery (seriously), but we didn't have anything else for reindeer treats, so we counted out 8 pretzels instead.  And, as I was halfway asleep, I wondered out loud to Rick if there should have been 9, but he told me that since the night wasn't foggy, Rudolph had the day off, and 8 was perfect.

When I woke up, (at 5:00am, because, it seems I'm still 6 years old), the first thing I did was go check the plate.  And, when I went to the kitchen table, it looked like this!

Also important to note that Santa uses coasters.  I knew I loved him!  Rick told me he ran into him in the early morning, and Santa said the cookies were delicious, but he couldn't finish a whole one.  But he found the coffee supremely thoughtful.

After I went to check the evidence, I went to look at the tree.  And it was even more magical than I had expected.

We were supremely lucky.  People were extraordinarily generous, and I know it's not about the presents, but, I'll be honest.  The little kid in me still gets so so giddy when I see something like this.

We woke up the animals, and got them ready for the morning before we did anything.  Quil, who up until then had been uninterested in the presents, zipped over to the tree, sniffing and pawing and packages, as if he knew that Christmas was finally here.  So, since he's the youngest, he got to open the first present.

Although difficult to catch in pictures, he shoved his whole face in that bag, running around the house with it on his head, pulling paper out.  I don't know that I've ever laughed so hard before 6:00 in the morning.

After he got his present (a new reindeer baby, which he promptly dismembered and devoured the extremities), he was supremely interested in what everyone else got for Christmas.

After a few presents in which Quil shoved his face into everyone's laps to see what their present was, we let him open his second present which granted us a blessed 20 minutes (or so) free of wet puppy noses, and a wagging tail that could knock a drink off a table easy.

In retrospect we should never have let him eat the whole thing, because he pooped weird gingerbread treat poop for the next two days.  Oh well, lesson learned.

Each of my parents gave Rick incredibly thoughtful gifts, which means so very much to me.  And Rick, he looks happy too!

One of my best friends sent me two books that I can't wait to start reading.  And yes, for the record, I did keep my pregnant self parked on the sofa for the whole of present opening, while Rick and Quil alternately brought me boxes.  It hurts to stand up and sit down, I don't like to do it that much! 

Gabby wasn't left out--and though she's not as sure about these tunnels as I would like, that probably comes from her desire to camp out under the Christmas tree.  She likes to run through them though, cackling with malicious laughter every time the dog smacks his head trying to catch her.

My Mom sent me a very nice robe and nightgown for use in the hospital.  I think it's because we're having a baby this year.  Or something like that, people keep telling me.

Lastly, we have a Christmas tradition where we hide a pickle in the tree.  The one to find it gets an extra present!  The fact that there isn't anyone here to look with me doesn't stop Rick from hiding it--he has every year we've been together.  And, see, the Pickle wraps his presents too!

This makes me laugh every year.  And the first year, i asked Rick why it was wrapped like that, and he just shook his head and said "That crazy pickle."  I love that he took a tradition that was from my family and made it something that's OURS.  Although, in a few years, I guess I won't be able to look for the pickle anymore.

Another gift I got (that I asked for) was a rooster cutting board.  It's such a quintessential part of my childhood, and this year I decided I wanted my own.  So, when I got one, I was thrilled, and decided to put it to work making Christmas breakfast!

Never mind that I had to take about four of these pictures to get one that didn't have my big old stomach in it.  We made an Egg Casserole with Zucchini and Tomatoes in it, along with some ham and cheese.  It was delicious, and festive!  I might make it every year.

The casserole dishes were also from my Mom.  LIke I said, people were very very sweet and generous to us this year!

Christmas breakfast.  Perfect.

After breakfast, I took a nap, we read books and played games.  We played with the animals and sat around in the quiet.  For the last Christmas with just the two of us, it was pretty fantastic.  

Next year: I predict infinitely less quiet!

A couple more Christmas entries coming up before I get to my New Year's Recap...Day 2 of 2012 and I'm already behind.  Oh well, it's been because I've had a really, REALLY fantastic week with Rick home from work.  I don't want him to go back!

I went back and forth for a long time about whether or not I wanted to make Christmas cookies.  On the one hand, it's such a big job, and I knew I couldn't afford to ship them where I wanted to.  On the other, it felt WRONG on a lot of levels to even think about skipping them.  When a friend of ours came and said they wanted to decorate cookies with us this year, the decision was made.  We bought everything, and decided to just do it, and I'm glad we did.

Even though my appetite for them was vasty, VASTLY different than previous years.  Pregnancy does weird things you guys!

As I've told you previously, the fudge is difficult, and some years, pretty hit or miss.  This year, Rick did a lot of it, while I helped, because we made this at 9:00 at night, and I was pretty tired.  But, since he's never stood there and stirred the fudge for what seems like 30 years, he got impatient, and was convinced I told him to heat it too low.  I started to get worried that he wouldn't want to help, so I told him to turn the heat up.  At first, it looked okay...

But then, slowly, I started to suspect that something was wrong.  It didn't look quite right.  Maybe it always looks wonky before the end?  I wasn't sure, and I started second guessing myself six ways to Sunday.  The more we stirred, the more I was convinced that we'd done it wrong, until the end, when it looked like this:

So yes, as much as I bake, I still make mistakes.  We threw out the wrong pan, and I ate SO MUCH of the good pan.  I know, I know, you must be out there reading going "Obviously, it's fudge."  But I usually eat three or four small pieces a year and then Rick eats the rest.  This year, however, the baby was just IN LOVE, and I ate probably four pieces a DAY.  Yeah, not my proudest moment, but I couldn't stop myself.

Early the next morning, we made our Kaleidoscope cookies, and the Gingerbread folks.

We made Nobakes, and Mexican Wedding Cakes.  The Mexican Wedding Cakes made me REALLY miss my sister, who is really the only reason I ever make them.  We don't really eat them, but they're her favorite!  I debated not making them at all, but I just don't do so well with change.

Rick was a huge help throughout the baking on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  He did dishes, he ran to the store, he made lunch.  He rolled cookies, watched the oven, filled people's drinks.  He is a fantastic host when we have company, and he more than picks up my slack when something about being pregnant makes a regular activity irregularly difficult.

Somewhere during the day, one of the women we were decorating with pulled me to the side and asked if I knew how amazing he was.  "My husband would NEVER help me like that," she said.  "And if I did get him to help, he would never do such a good and careful job."  Then she reconsidered.  "Is he always like that?"  I just grinned at her.  "Yep.  All the time."  She whistled under her breath.  "Wow.  What's it like living with a superhero?"

Let me tell you.  Most of the time, it's pretty damn awesome.

We took a break for lunch (Ham and potato soup, and Salad, which I ate greedily), and then, we finished up the decorating.

And of course there were Crinkles!  We'd never forget them!

It was different.  Sad, doing it without my Mom.  But having more people helped, we turned on Christmas music, opened the windows, and made the best of it, and I actually, surprisingly, had a really nice time.  And after it was all over, Arizona greeted me with this:

A gray, rainy day that was exactly what my spirits needed to keep them firmly in the GOOD camp.  I'd call the day a success.  And next year, it's going to be so, SO different.

We took our Christmas pictures last weekend, and since the cards have now flown the nest, I can share some outtakes with you all.  I was actually quite pleased with how the good photos turned out, but, since our friend took 100+ pictures, there were bound to be some bad ones.  So, here we go.

Rick is okay, I'm okay, Quil is...clearly playing some weird game which neither one of us were invited to participate in.  What the hell, dog?  He looks, although happy enough, slightly manic.  We decided to skip this one.

And again!  Rick is good, (seriously, ridiculously photogeneic that one), I'm workable, and Quil...is clearly transfixed by something going on outside, and has forgotten why we're here, and dressed so early on a Saturday morning.  I wonder if taking pictures with kids will be worse than taking pictures with pets.  Something tells me you can't bribe them with pretzels.

I actually remember this picture.  Rick put his ear to my belly, saying "Ooh, I think I can hear the baby!"  I scoffed at him.  "You can't HEAR her."  Rick looked up at me quizzically "Are you sure?  I think it's like a seashell!"  And put his ear back.  I cracked up, and Quil is like "OMG, who are these people?  They're totally not my parents."

I'd like to point out that Rick's happy face and the fact Quil looks like we've beaten him into submission aren't related.  At least, I hope they're not.  But what's with both those faces?  Something weird happened when I left the room...

This picture actually makes the sappy side of me get all mushy, and I would have used more of it if we could have seen more of the dog.  Are we looking lovingly at my belly because the baby is kicking?  Nope, down at Quil, who turned around to nuzzle my belly, and then sat, swishing his tail across the carpet.  And we both look like we love him, instead of commenting on his general asshatery.  Sweet, but nixed.

This picture cracks me up every time.  I was standing behind our picture-taker, holding a pretzel for Quil to look at, but I must have been holding it too high.  Rick was smirking at me, and Quil?  Well, his thoughts are pretty clear.  Holy Puppy Tongue, Batman!

This picture, though blurry, is another one that I love.  (Totally not Christmas card worthy.)  I had got down on the floor so I would be more at eye level with Quil, and, as most of you know, getting down (or up for that matter) is a bit of a process these days.  So. I had the pretzel in my hand, and Quil army crawled away from Rick and to me like NOBODY'S BUSINESS.  He never stood up, he just inched his belly up off the floor and crawled in a laying down position straight to me.  Rick was in the back saying "Get off the floor, don't you know you're pregnant?"  (Oh, sorry, Honey, I forgot.)  But Quil was adorable, so of course, I gave him the pretzel.  

Toward the end of picture taking, and Quil was clearly turning on his puppy charm.  He decided playing with Rick was much more fun than posing for pictures, and so was born one of my favorite pictures of the two of them EVER.  But Rick hates it, so it was nixed.

Annd, clearly we're done for the day.  Quil has decided that belly rubs are much more fun than picture taking, and even pretzels.  My two boys.

My Mom makes awesome rum cakes.  Or so I hear--I've never actually taken a bite, but everyone else has, and they all say the same thing.  It starts with "Oh my GOD," and ends with "When are you going to make more?"

So I shouldn't have been surprised when one Christmas while we were  living in Ohio, Mom came to visit and brought us a rum cake.  I immediately set it in front of Rick, who ate the whole thing himself in one sitting.  (I must note that every other cake he is perfectly reasonable about, way more so than me, but something about Rum cake?  He always eats the whole damn thing, in one MAYBE two sittings.)

And so, a tradition was born, something between Rick and my Mom, and every year since then (this is our 4th Christmas together, will be our 5th New Year's), no matter where we are, or what we're doing, she finds a way to send him rum cake.  It's not Christmas without it, for him.  Roast Beef and Potato Salad on Christmas Eve?  He loves it, but he'd be fine if we had something else.  Sending Christmas cards?  He gives me the names and I do everything else, and then, I sincerely believe he promptly forgets all about it.  But rum cake?  About the 5th of December, he starts asking "Is it time for cake yet?"  And this continues incessantly, until he has it in his hands.

So this year, sometime last week, we saw this:

I'd opened the shipping box, but went no further, and when Rick came home, I nonchalantly told him "there's something on the counter for you."  He knew at once, and I have never seen him move quite so quickly.  Then, he grabbed my camera, and went to work.  All of these pictures are his, while I sat on the couch and regarded his excitement skeptically.

"Look at the box!"  He exclaimed.  "It's packed so nice!"  (Again, let me interject here, that though he compliments me extensively, never once has 'You packed that so nice!' come out of his mouth.)  Clearly, at Christmas, my Mother steals my husband from me.  And all for the price of rum cake.

He goes in for his first bite, barely able to wait until after dinner to eat it.

He brings it up to his mouth..."This is going to be so GOOD."  He says.  Then, in a half-hearted afterthought, he offers me a bite.  "Did you want a...oh, wait."  He smirks.  "You CAN'T.  More for me then!"  I snort at him--not that I wanted it before I was pregnant anyway, but something about not being able to have foods grinds my gears.

Success!  Rick is thrilled, and their tradition lives on.  He eats 3/4 of the cake in one sitting, and is "pleasantly buzzed."  He declares he'll eat the rest for breakfast, to which I rudely point out "You can't eat that for breakfast, you have to go to WORK."  His face looks so sad, that I'm heartbroken that is actually the case.  But, the next evening, he finishes it off with no degree of ceremony.  He washes his fork, throws away the trash, then looks at me.

"So," he says.  "When is your Mom going to make that cake again?"

Can you guys believe it's already halfway through December?  I often feel like my life is speeding by in fast forward, and as much as I try to find the remote to put everything back in normal speed, it never works.

But, here we are, and we have four blog entries stacking up, so I'm going to try to get one out a day over the next four days.  We'll see how that works, but first!  Onto some Christmas decor.

Never mind Rick's grumpy face, he was playing with me.  Anything having to do with Christmas is a big.job. in our home, and switching out the decorations is no exception.  First, is tetrising all of the Fall decorations back into their containers, because every time they come out, they multiply.

Then comes tormenting the cat, because it's just not any fun if we don't!

Rick is so careful when it comes to putting out decorations.  "Just tell me how you want it, Baby!"  He'll say.  And when I say something like "Just throw them up there, make the letters go in the right order, and I'm set", he'll take it a step further and measure them out, so everybody is even.

Tree fluffing, same as every year.  Apparently this year, Quil got the memo that it is "Man's work", because he took up residence near the tree, and wasn't really interested in having me near it the whole time.  Oh well, soon, it will be three girls and two boys in this house!

A little blurry--our finished tree.  I'm still learning about how to take good photos of Christmas trees, it's something about having the light in the house equal with the light outside of the house, and unfortunately, I'm not great about taking pictures with the flash off.  I'll get there.

The angel on top is the Angel that has been on my tree since I was little.  It's the only thing I ever remember having on top of the Family Christmas tree, so I was thrilled when it came to live with me.  I want to point out that Rick did all of this, from the ribbon to the ornaments, to the lights (of course), and arranging the tree skirt.  I just don't know where I would be without him.

Every year, Mom buys me a new Lenox Ornament.  My series is the snowman--one sister has Santas, and another has Gingerbread, I think.  This year, my Snowman is on a snowboard!  Weird, but I love them just the same

Mom, Rick and I made this tree skirt when she was here in November.  It's quite possibly my favorite Christmas thing in this house!  She stood in a fabric store, while I leaned against the shelves, tired of hauling my pregnant self around all day, envisioned the tree skirt, chose fabric, and worked it all up in her head, zero pattern to go off of.  I don't have the skills for that--someday, I hope that part of my DNA makes itself known!  But, not yet...

My finished Christmas mantle.  Blogs all over the blogosphere are showcasing their chic, silver/white/blue themed ones this year, complete with matching stocking holders, and tall, glass vases of something or another, but I've always preferred things to look a bit more homspun.  And I get such joy out of pulling out the same decorations year after year.  Bonus points if you can identify the movie in the background!

Right half of the mantle up close:

Left half up close!

These are another decoration from my childhood--same ribbons and all.  I remember one Christmas, my Dad got frustrated with trying to make the legs for the Father reindeer match up (they each have to be in their own place, or the reindoor won't stand), so he marked the legs with different colored markers, and then marked their corrosponding holes, so he wouldn't have to mess with it again.  The tiny marker stripes are still there, and so, I match them up every year.

Rick and I have a tradition--every year, we decorate the tree on the Saturday after Thanksgiving.  Then, when the tree is done, we eat Chinese food, and watch "Miracle on 34th Street."  The newer version.  And every year I cry during the montage where everybody is saying that they believe!  And then, at the end, I say "Isn't that just the best movie?"  Rick rolls his eyes, and says "I love how much you love it."  And then, we put it away, and don't watch it again until the following year.

And the next day, I successfully made this pie with Thanksgiving leftovers--potatoes, turkey, gravy, peas, onions, carrots, celery...and it was actually pretty darn good.  I might add this to my list and do it again!

Finally, finally, our Christmas decorating is done.  Not pictured this year: The decorations in the bathroom, bedroom, or on the kitchen table.  Maybe later this month, or maybe next year!  We'll just have to wait and see

I'm an anxious person.  I don't think it's particularly a secret, but no one but Rick really knows how much trouble I have keeping things in perspective.  I don't often settle on middle ground, but I go between "everything is fine" and "something is terribly, horribly wrong."  It's been the same way with this pregnancy, some days I'm settled, other days I'm so anxious I can't get a handle on it, until something happens that shifts my focus the other way.

I haven't been sleeping particularly well, which is to be expected at this point.  If I don't have to get up to go to the bathroom, I'm unbearably sore from sleeping on my side, and rolling over is starting to take a lot of work.  But Rick has been amazing, and so helpful, and I don't know how people make it though with an unsupportive partner, or, no partner at all.

Last night, I had a dream.  I dreamed I was walking through an apartment building.  I was looking for my home, but I couldn't find it, because I knew I lived there, but I didn't have a clear recollection of how exactly to get to the right spot.  So i asked someone if they could show me where I lived, and when we opened the door to the next hallway, it was full of demons.  Mean looking ones, and ones that were definitely on the hunt for humans.  

I started off by trying to hide in a closet with three other people, but I could barely get my pregnant self in there.  I ran through hallways, but I accidentally ended up in a church, when I was looking for my house.  So I kept running, through the hallways, around corners, and up stairwells.  There were people screaming everywhere, and I saw people get caught and dragged out of sight by large, clawed hands.  I heard someone say behind me "Try to get to North America, that's the only place that's safe!"

A few rooms down the hall I was in, was a door labeled "North America", so I flung it open, and ran to the front of what was a classroom.  I collapsed on the floor, hiding myself between the legs of desks.  After about 30 dream seconds, I saw the door open and several pairs of feet enter.  I was convinced that my party was over, because I knew I couldn't get myself up fast enough.  The feet came right to where I was hiding.  At first, I was afraid to look up, but when I did...

They were angels.  Probably 3 or 4 angels were standing in front of me, and one was holding out his hand.  He helped me up off the floor, and then said "You've made it this far.  KEEP GOING.  Everything is going to be fine, and we'll be with you the rest of the way."

I wasn't watching anything even close to this before I had the dream.  I wasn't reading anything like this, or thinking about anything particularly profound (I think I was writing my Christmas cookie schedule in my head) before bed.  I have no idea where the dream came from.

But it was a pretty awesome gift, just the same.  So I will keep going.  I will trust that everything will be fine.  How could I not?

My Mom was here for a lovely week long visit earlier this month, which explains (partially) this hiatus.  We had such a nice time, even if I do get tired sooner now, rather than later.  We ate, shopped, crafted, cooked, talked, and it was so, SO nice to have my Mom close by.  I'll have more to show you from this visit sometime in the next couple of weeks..however...

One of the things we did was have Thanksgiving together.  It was a little early, but it was indispensible, especially for me who has spent virtually every Holiday away from home for the past couple of years.  We both cooked, but Mom admittedly did more, because is it ever hard work growing a baby!  And the end result was this:

The table was smaller, the dishes were different but it tasted JUST like childhood.

While Rick and I will be hosting Thanksgiving this week, and there will be another post then, with all of the food favorites from last year.  I'll try to chronicle them better.  And then, this weekend, it will be time for Christmas decorations!  

And did I mention that I'm concluding my 6th month of pregnancy this week and next?  I find it baffling, how fast it all goes.