Bad Day 173--Soap is better than a potato?

It is the actual day of Child 2's birthday and she had a lot of fun opening presents. However, because she is a very literal child, she is very easy to fool and we managed to convince her that her Grandma had given her soap for her birthday when really it was a ring that she had wrapped inside a soap box. She almost didn't open the box and must have thought her grandmother thought she smelled bad. Last year, I gave her a potato which was a reference to this Jimmy Kimmel video and made her laugh for like 10 minutes. But she loved all her presents even more this year and isn't even mad at me that I haven't finished that Ravenclaw scarf yet.

I'm not feeling well, so we'll just get right to the bad day. Former president George H. W. Bush is having a worse day than me.



Not only has he been ill and just got out of intensive care, which is bad enough, but he also learned from a German magazine that he had actually passed away because they published his obituary a little too early. It's not a nice thing to have Der Spiegel report your death while you're still alive. I don't know how you make up for that kind of mistake. It seems like a retraction wouldn't be good enough. But at any rate, I hope he can laugh about it. Plus, aren't Germans notorious for being early to things? So thank you, German reporters, for reminding me to fact check things before I publish them. Although for me, it's pretty easy to fact check with the children because they correct me every time I post something and I can fix it before too many people have read it. It's nice having my own editorial staff upstairs. OK, it's annoying, but rather helpful.

Bad Day 172--No pain, no good

Husband just asked me how many people would get the reference to Madame LaFarge. I assured him that 1. people who read my blog are smart, and 2. also they know how to use Google. But apparently I got her name wrong, not having read A Tale of Two Cities for twenty years, and her name is Defarge. So there you have the reference just in case you didn't know about the crazy knitting woman from the French Revolution.



Speaking of France, the children must have enjoyed Les Miserables because I can hear "I Dreamed a Dream" playing upstairs. It's a nice change from the Phineas and Ferb theme song which has been playing incessantly because I think that is all they watch anymore since I blocked the Disney channel. I don't regret blocking Disney because now they watch a lot of TLC which I happen to enjoy unless it is that show about hoarders or the one about the crazy polygamous family which makes Child 1 yell at the TV. She does not like that family and they make her angry. Angry! Things that make Child 2 angry are harder to pin down, but today we discovered that melting snow was one of them. She wanted to go out and make a snowball when it started snowing but we made her do a chore first and by the time she was finished, it had all melted, so we heard about it and she was grumpy until she found a pile of snow at the outlet mall and threw one at Husband.

Yes, I decided to torture myself with more shopping but this time I followed my friend "Emma's" advice and I took it slow and only tried on in three stores that I usually likek. I also brought Child 1 along for advice because I find myself drawn to things that fit rather than things that are stylish. Also, I still have no idea what size I am but I'm beginning to believe that is because no two stores use the same fit models. Sometimes, even in the same store, I'm not the same size. It's like the British fashion assassins came and switched all the tags just to freak me out. But I got a few shirts and a couple of sweaters. No pants, though. I found a couple of pairs of my "skinny" pants in the back of the closet and those will have to do for now. The only problem is that for years I have been wearing mostly black and gray pants and now the only ones that fit are brown. I hope you can wear purple with brown. Otherwise I am in big trouble, shirt-wise. Navy blue also can go with brown, right? Sigh.

People visiting the Florida Everglades are having a worse day than me. Apparently, vultures in the park have decided that rubber from cars make a delicious snack and have been ripping off wiper blades and sunroof seals, both of which are rather important to have in a state where it rains a lot.



Apparently, the problem is so bad that the park first put up signs, and then started loaning everyone a tarp and bungee cords to keep the vultures off. So thank you, Florida visitors, for reminding me to be grateful that I live in a state where vultures migrate south for the winter, so my wiper blades are safe. I'll keep an eye out for those pesky thieves in the summer, though.

Bad Day 171--I dreamed a dream

Today, Husband brought the children in to work to have lunch with me and experience the wonder that is our cafeteria. And when I say wonder, what I really mean is that you stand there wondering why you are paying all this money to eat rice and green beans because that is the only wheat-free item on the menu. Besides the chocolate pudding which I also can't eat. But the children loved it anyway and thought the food was great, mostly because they were comparing it to their school cafeteria which apparently serves pizza that is so bad that the children bring their lunch every day. Seriously. They hate the school pizza. When I was in school, pizza Fridays were something to look forward to, but the children think that what they are served tastes like cardboard. It must be bad because two of my children are not picky eaters and enjoy things like salmon and ratatouille. But then again, Child 2 doesn't like lasagna, or spaghetti, so what do I know.



Tonight we are going to see Les Miserables and I will knit through the whole thing. I mentioned before that I had experienced a present disaster. Well, the disaster is of such magnitude that I am still working on the darn Ravenclaw scarf which was the only thing Child 2 wanted for Christmas besides a bunch of books. I had gotten fairly far when I realized the pattern I was using was to put it mildly, wrong. So I had to rip it out and start over. Knitting is one of the only homemakery things I know how to do. Oh, I know I can cook, but I don't count that because that is because I like to eat, not because I have a desire to be a great homemaker. But I hate sewing. Hate it. Hate it. And I can't crochet at all. But knitting, that is another thing altogether. First, I learned in Austria, which is cool in and of itself. Second, you can do it while you're doing other things, and third, it is really easy to fix mistakes and not all of them require you to completely start the project over.

But the thing I have realized is that knitting takes a lot of time and I was trying to do it while Child 2 wasn't looking but that meant I only got around 5 rows done per day which isn't nearly enough for a Harry Potter scarf. So I asked her if I could just knit in front of her and she said OK. So now I'm knitting all the time. I'm a modern day Madame LaFarge. Christmas party at church? Bring out the knitting! Movies? Yep, there too. Picking up Husband at the airport? You got it! And I'm still not done. Good thing she has a December birthday because now it is a birthday present. But I might not finish it by Sunday. Sorry, dear Child 2. When it is done it will look like this.



This American family is having a worse day than me.



They are weeks away from finalizing an adoption of a handicapped Russian girl when the Russian government passed a bill making it illegal for Americans to adopt Russian children. The bill is purely political and bad for Russian children. But never underestimate politicians' ability to harm children by making a political score. Shame on you, Russia. If foreigners don't adopt these children, just who exactly is going to take care of them? Certainly not your state-run orphanage system. Because of course that is better than a loving family? So thank you, President Putin, for reminding me that courage is better than grandstanding and I hope American politicians will do a better job at putting the needs of children first. Now I'm going to go hug my own and be glad they are not waiting for me to come get them out of a Russian orphanage.

Bad Day 170--It's hard to type with gloves on.

There are people out there who believe the federal government is good for nothing and is just a big waste of money. These people would be the reason that my office is so cold I need to wear gloves. See, congress keeps cutting our budget and since congress also passed laws that make it really difficult to fire federal employees, we have to save money by doing things like cutting off the heat. I swear I could see my breath this morning, and if things continue in this vein, I am going to have to steal Child 3's fingerless gloves which she doesn't really need because she doesn't have a phone but thinks they make a nice fashion statement. They are quite pretty and I would be the only person in my office wearing pink and silver sequined gloves and I would totally not care because at least my hands would be warm enough to type. I wore both my coat and my pashmina shawl and it didn't help until around noon when the heater finally kicked in. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep the world safe for democracy when your fingers are stiff with cold? Yes, I know that soldiers in WWII had to use typewriters in a tent in the snow, but seriously, they weren't expected to answer the over 600 e-mails that came to my in-box over a holiday when everyone was supposed to be on vacation. Seriously! 600!



Tonight, Child 2 is making teaching me how to play Settlers of Catan. I'm not sure I am capable of learning the rules of this game which seems really, really complicated, by which I mean really, really long. To supplement the longness of the game, we are making husband watch the BBC version of Sherlock Holmes while playing it which will guarantee that he falls asleep at which point I will steal all of his money or countries or whatever and end the game early. We'll see how that goes.

Anyone who is using Groupon to get a discount on Botox is having a worse day than me. For those of you who are unaware of what Botox can do to you, it makes you look like this:




And why you would want to live with a face so frozen that you can't raise your eyebrows, I will never know. Raised eyebrows is an essential part of the "Mom" stare. You know, that look that makes your children fess up whatever it is that they are hiding from you, and believe me, they are hiding something. So thank you, Joan Rivers and all other over-users of Botox, for reminding me to be grateful for good genetics which means I have very few wrinkles. And besides, I enjoy the ones I have. I earned them. Except for the ones Husband gave me when he left for Afghanistan. He can have those back any time.

Bad Day 169--What a waste!

Today was a complete waste. I waited all morning for Husband to get home from his outing with our church youth group and I fell asleep right before he got home. Then, he wanted to let me sleep so he didn't wake me up so we didn't even leave for the after-Christmas shopping until 2 pm when the mall parking lot was completely full. I wanted to go to the outlets, but the weather was so bad, we just went to our usual mall, and when we got there, I didn't know what to do.



Yep. You read that right. It was a shopping trip to a place filled with stores full of things I can now buy because I am smaller than I used to be and I stood there like a deer in the headlights or one of those clueless people on What Not to Wear not even knowing what I should try on. I have no idea what looks good or what might fit. So I bought some bras and a pair of jeans and that was it. Seriously! What is wrong with me? I guess I've just been so used to being the same size and knowing what will make me look smaller, that I'm completely flummoxed by my new self and I have no idea what I should be shopping for. Which means I will have to try on things and I hate trying on things. But something must be done because I no longer need to unbutton or unzip my pants to put them on and I'm really afraid for what will happen if I forget to wear a belt. And skirts are now completely out of the question unless I find some more office supplies to hold them up. I'm thinking a trip to the tailor is in order.

But at least I'm not having as bad a day as this model who somehow lost her feet altogether.



Somehow, this French clothing brand thought the model would look better if they cut her off at the ankles. I'm not sure why and it's something I would have expected from the British, not the French who are supposed to be very fashion savvy. Unless going footless literally is supposed to be in fashion next year. At any rate, I hope this girl's feet are returned to her. Thank you, Camaieu, for reminding me not to forget my feet. Maybe I should just go buy some shoes. That always makes me feel better.

Bad Day 168--Love and Joy and roast beef

The presents are all unwrapped, the roast is in the oven, so I'm taking a minute to blog. It's been a wonderful Christmas, truly. I should have mentioned yesterday that the reason we got a late start on the wrapping is because Child 1 insisted that we go see Lincoln together and I'm glad she did. It was a fantastic movie.



Husband used his superpowers to sleep through it, which wasn't surprising. If you can sleep through two alien invasions (Independence Day and Men in Black), then the Civil War should be no problem. But it was a fun outing with Child 1 and I love that she loves history and I got to hear her rant about Gen. McClellan and she is right that he was a terrible general.

We stayed up really late wrapping, and then Child 3 was awake at 3:45  am which was about 15 minutes after we fell asleep. We forced her to go back to bed until 7 am because no civilized person gets up that early on a holiday even if it is Christmas. Child 1 and Child 2 have decreed that next year no Christmas activities will commence before 9 am and I totally agree with them. Husband fell asleep in the middle of opening his gifts. OK, not really, but he looked like he wanted to. I told him I didn't need any gifts this year and he should just make it easy on himself and slap a bow on his head because all I wanted was him. But he gave me a star sapphire necklace from Afghanistan anyway. I gave him the book Argo by Tony Mendez which Child 1 and I had personally inscribed to him.

Child 2 is happily hanging her Perry the Platypus ornament on the tree and Child 3 is dancing around wearing more sequins than I thought humanly possible. Child 1 is cooking so I need to go help her and check on the roast.

Child 1 says that days that Husband is home should be labeled "Not So Bad" days. She is right. Nothing is bad about today. Everything is joyful. Even the bickering at dinner.

Since today was so wonderful, I am entirely conscious that there are many of you out there who are not with your loved ones over the holidays because they cannot come home from Afghanistan, or Africa, or wherever they may be and that means you are having a worse day than me. My heart goes out to you and I hope you are reunited soon. And for those of you for whom that is not possible because the place at your table will remain empty even though your heart is still full, my prayers are with you. May you all find a reason to feel love and joy and peace this Christmas.

Bad Day 167--Tick, tock!

It's Christmas Eve and there is so much still to do. There are presents to wrap and cinnamon rolls to make and children to make go to sleep, except they won't. I never went to sleep on Christmas Eve, so why should they? So it becomes a waiting game and the children always, always win because apparently they can live on much less sleep than me.

To help them relax and get ready for the holiday, or rather because Child 3 is all wound up already and insisted, we played a quick game of Scribblish which if you remember is like Pictionary and "telephone" mixed together and where the Starship Enterprise turns into fried eggs. This a TV going out the window turned into two microwaves dancing under a disco ball. What I drew was clearly a TV that had been thrown. Not a dancing appliance. And furthermore, a moose is not a reindeer. This is a moose.



This is Rudolph.  Notice the difference in the antlers. Child 2, do you need to take notes or is it clear enough now? :-)



Child 3 is downstairs making oatmeal because apparently Rudolph likes that more than carrots. She is very upset that we didn't make our own cookies and are using party leftovers, but I don't think Santa will mind.

Because Child 1 has told me it's time to get wrapping and because I don't feel well enough to keep looking, I'm pointing out this U.S. Senator from Idaho who is having a worse day than me.



You all know how I feel about drunk driving since I've pointed to other offenders in this blog. but in this case, not only is he being stupid, he's going against his religion and that is very sad. Also, he should know better because he's a senator, for crying out loud! So thank you, Senator Crapo (which is his real name,) for reminding me that sticking to my principle of not drinking and not putting the public in danger through my own stupidity is a good idea.

Merry Christmas!

Bad Day 166--Gledelig Lille Jul Aften!

So tonight was Lille Jul Aften and we had friends over and played the rice pudding game and everyone really enjoyed it. The marzipan pigs were much more popular than I expected and people actually chose them over the chocolate snowmen and Santas. The rice pudding was a big success. You could tell because people said things like wow I normally don't really like rice pudding but this is delicious and they are totally right because I am not bragging when I say that my rice pudding is amazing. All the shrimp is gone and most of the waffles, although we have quite a few meatballs left because I made around 200. But that just means more for me for lunch tomorrow. This is what Norwegian waffles look like. They are made with sour cream and are extremely delicious, especially with Nutella which I can't eat because it is chocolate and I am allergic, but take my word for it. This year, we discovered that they are equally delicious made with gluten-free flour.



The children were extremely helpful and actually cooked AND helped clean up, but that was a little bit because Husband made them. It's nice to have a backup task master. But still, we turned up our favorite Christmas music really loud and danced to it while putting the food away. Our favorite song is "Wonderful Christmastime" by Paul McCartney and we could play it over and over again and not get tired of it. When I say "we", I mean me and the children. Husband is not as fond of the song and finds it annoying when we play it three times in a row, but we do it anyway because we're that kind of family. It has been my favorite Christmas song for years and I tried and tried to find a CD of it but wasn't able to. (This was in the days before MP3 files, so downloading it wasn't an option. Also we had dial-up internet so it would have taken like an hour to download and I would have had to listen to that awful modem sound the whole time.) Brother had heard me say that it was my favorite and found it on a CD and gave me that for Christmas the next year. I will always love him for that and I still have the CD and still play it and it is our absolute favorite because it also has John Lennon singing "So This Is Christmas" on it. Child 1 is a Christmas song purist and will only listen to the original version of things and gets angry when she hears a cover. She yells that they're ruining the song and forces us to skip it. But I have to say, about those two songs, she is right.

This woman on The Wheel of Fortune is having a worse day than me.



She is a Navy Specialist and was about to win over $3000 when she said "Seven Swans A Swimming" with a southern accent and it came out "Swimmin'" and they didn't give her the prize. Seriously. An accent lost her the money which really stinks because she had asked for the "g" so it's not like she didn't know "swimming" is spelled with one. I have received a lot of grief over the years because of my own Texas vernacular, so I feel for her, although I have to say it has never cost me thousands of dollars. So thank you, Renee, for reminding me that a southern accent is still charming even if the rest of the world thinks it means you can't spell. And Husband, "swimmin'" would actually be the correct pronunciation, just like you say "Thanksgiving" and "insurance." Later we will have a chat on the proper use of "y'all" and "all y'all."

Bad Day 165--Not enough cooks in the kitchen

The cooking has begun. Lille Jul Aften is tomorrow. For those of you who aren't Scandinavian, "Little Christmas Eve" is December 23rd and it is when all good Norwegians play the rice pudding game, also good Danes, Swedes, and Finns. You hide an almond in rice pudding (the kind with whipped cream, not the kind with raisins) and whoever wins it gets a pig made out of marzipan. I know, you are thinking, where did you find a recipe for Norwegian rice pudding? And the answer would be from a Danish lady in Shanghai, China. But also, I have no idea what pigs have to do with Christmas since you can be certain there were no pigs at the manger. We cheat because we put way more than one almond in the pudding so that lots of people win a prize. And since Child 1 doesn't like marzipan, we also have chocolate Santas and snowmen, too. I'm very excited because this year for the first time since leaving Norway I actually found marzipan pigs. I think the children thought all this time that I was making them up. Underneath the window in the package below it says "Big Christmas Pig."



Anyway, we've been cooking all day. I'm not sure why I agreed to celebrate Lille Jul Aften again this year because last year was a disaster and none of them helped even a little bit and I vowed to never do it again. But this year, I'm sick and I can't do it all and the children and Husband have stepped up in a big way. Because it's a Norwegian holiday, I make lots of my favorite Norwegian foods including meatballs and sour-cream waffles. This year, I'm going to try to make the waffles gluten-free. We'll see how that goes. It might work, though because I made gluten-free pancakes this morning for the non-slumberers and they didn't even notice and nobody said why are these pancakes yellow because Child 1 was not there, and Child 2 was too busy talking to her friends to notice, and Child 3 had drowned hers in a lake of syrup so no one would have known what color they originally were. Seriously, there was so much syrup it was in danger of spilling over the side of her plate. Maybe that is where all the stolen Canadian syrup went.

We took a little time out from cooking to go see some Christmas lights at the DC temple. I love Christmas lights.



This high school student in Georgia is having a worse day than me. He bought a Santa costume and candy canes to hand out and posted on his facebook page that the students at his school were in for a "big surprise" the next day. But the principal found the post disturbing and threatening and suspended him, even though the police had already been alerted and cleared the poor kid and verified the existence of the Santa costume and a lack of other weapons. Because, you know, candy canes can be deadly, I guess. Or maybe there is a school facial-hair dress code he violated. At any rate, his principal must be related to Scrooge. So thank you, Mr. Would-be-teen-Santa, for reminding me that joy is what Christmas is all about. I hope you have some anyway, in spite of your mean principal, and I hope the Ghost of Christmas Present keeps him up all night long making him visit all the students who think he's a meanie.

Bad Day 164--Boo!

I'm wearing jodhpurs by accident. For those of you unfamiliar with the travesty of fashion that is jodhpurs, they look like this.



Now, no woman wants to look like her thighs are this big on purpose which is why in the past they were only worn by British soldiers in India. (See what I mean about British fashion? I told you they hate us.) So I would never wear them on purpose, but jodhpurs are also what happens when your pants are too big and your sweater fits tight across your hips. I thought I looked cute until I got to work and saw myself in the mirror and I was horrified but unable to go home and change. So now I've decided it is time for new pants. I need to get some that fit and have some altered because I'm not doing the jodhpurs thing ever again.

Today is not Child 2's 41st birthday, although that is what it said on her cake along with the phrase, "Merry X-mas Happy Birthday!" Child 1 and Child 3 were responsible for the cake. It's not actually Child 2's birthday, but she had her party early because her birthday is always during Christmas break, and she is tired of waiting until January for her party. So we took Child 2 and her friends to see Monsters Inc. and now they are all upstairs giggling and not sleeping. I love Monsters Inc. because Boo reminds me of the children when they were small.



I'm now going to find earplugs so I can sleep while I have a house full of teenage girls who are not sleeping. Husband is already snoring, so I don't think it will be an issue for him.

Today, these delusional people are having a worse day than me.



They are all waiting around for a prophecy made by a bunch of people who died hundreds of years ago which it actually turns out they didn't actually make. So now the crazy people who really believed the end of the world was coming will have to find a way to live with the fact that they were wrong. But don't worry, they'll find something else to replace the Mayan non-prophecy. Maybe a Tibetan one. Or Africa. There are lots of ancient tribal myths in Africa that haven't been exploited yet. So thank you, clueless disaster lovers, for reminding me to be grateful that the world didn't end and I opened my eyes this morning and Husband was still here.

Bad Day 163--It's crowded in here

Husband is home and is trying to sleep, but it's a little difficult because all of our children plus The Dog are on the bed with him. One of them is trying to do algebra, and the other two are looking at the pictures on Husband's iPad. I should mention that they have seen all these photos before, but they are giggling and laughing, which is a good thing except when you're trying to sleep. I am underestimating Husband's ability to sleep, however, which is more like a super-power because he can sleep through anything. He slept through the movie "Independence Day" which is the loudest movie ever, so the giggling isn't keeping him up and he's snoring away.

Part of the laughter is due to this photo which Child 1 just took of The Dog.



The Dog is actually quite pretty in person which is why we picked her and felt thoroughly deceived when she turned out to be so mean to babies and stuffed animals, but she is extremely unphotogenic and here she looks like she belongs in the movie Gremlins. This is not her best look. Child 3 thinks she looks like a furry pig.

I should also mention that Husband is making us watch football, although to be fair, he did watch a couple of hours of "The Cake Boss" and "Say Yes to the Dress" this afternoon because I had control of the remote. But I suppose falling asleep while watching football is a normal male thing to do. We'd forgotten. I keep closing my eyes and opening them just to check that he's still here. Wait a sec and I'll do it again. Yep. Still here. Sigh of happiness.

The mother of this three-year old boy in Australia is having a worse day than me. She opened up her son's closet to discover this lovely box of deadly snakes.



Her son had found some eggs in the backyard and like most boys, picked them up and put them in a take-out box in his closet, not realizing that they would grow up to be one of the deadliest venomous snakes known to man. I don't mind snakes, but finding a plastic bin in the closet full of poisonous ones would be enough to stop my heart on its own without a snake-bite. My Dad once came home with a garter snake when he was about five and my Grandma locked him out of the house. She still talked about that incident with horror 50 years later and that was just a regular snake. So thank you, brave Aussie mom, for reminding me to be grateful that we don't have many poisonous snakes where I live and definitely none in my backyard and never in my closet. If we did, I'm sure The Dog would let us know, or maybe not since snakes don't resemble Hello Kitty too much.

Bad Day 162--All I want for Christmas

The only thing I want for Christmas is on its way. Husband made it out of Afghanistan in spite of one of his flights being canceled due to snow. He arrives tomorrow morning and I can hardly wait. I'm literally breathless with anticipation and Child 1 has vowed not to sleep until hi comes home. I'm not sure why that is a good idea because it will just make it take so much longer.



I'm sitting here looking at my huge pile of laundry and trying to muster up the energy to put it away. On the one hand, if I don't, then Husband won't have anywhere to sleep when he gets home. Then, on the other hand, I'm really really tired and I think that the seafood & crab salad at Subway has wheat in it because I feel not so great and that is the only thing I could have eaten with wheat in it. Unless marshmallows have wheat in them. And then again, if I don't clean up, then Husband will have a better idea of what life has been like the past few months, only not as lonely and awful. We'll see. Exhaustion will probably win out because I am so, so very tired and I have to get up super early to go get him. Maybe if I go to sleep, the same fairies that brought in the trash cans will fold the laundry and do the dishes. I know, but a girl can dream, can't she?

These thieves in Canada are having a worse day than me. They apparently stole millions of dollars worth of Canadian maple syrup.



I know, you are thinking that must be a lot of syrup. Truckloads, in fact. And how on earth did they do it? Well, it doesn't matter how because after a manhunt across Canada and the U.S., they have been caught and they will go to jail for a long, long time because Canadians are pretty darn angry about the theft. So thank you, sticky thieves, for reminding me that although Canadian jails aren't as nasty as Chinese ones, I still don't want to be incarcerated in one. And also, maple syrup is not that expensive, so just buy it already.

Bad Day 161--I've got a friend

Know who this is? Don't worry if you don't. Child 1 had no idea either. I didn't even bother to ask Child 2, and Child 3 was just happy to be singing along. But Husband will know immediately and would tell you that James Taylor has always been one of his favorite singers and would be really happy to know that Mr. Taylor and his wife came and sang a special concert for the families of Foreign Service Officers who are on unaccompanied tours. Since Husband is in Afghanistan, we got invited and I dragged the children along with me and they were really grumpy when they discovered that Secretary Clinton was too sick to come. But they loved the music and they warmed up when they discovered the candy bar where they could fill bags with all the candy it would fit. They also decorated gourmet cupcakes and ate the mini-desserts and fancy sandwiches. But their favorite thing of the whole night, and I will always love them for this, was marveling at the original Gilbert Stewart portrait of George Washington. That is what sold them on the night and they kept talking about it all they way home. The swag bag from the Disney Company was just gravy after that, although that was also really cool. It was a fun evening, but as James Taylor sang "Shower the people you love with love," tears ran down my face because I couldn't help thinking that I so much would have rather been at home with Husband, now matter how special the party was.

Then I discovered on the way home that the Christmas Elves have been at it again and Child 2 convinced Child 3 to help her take out the trash cans again without my even asking. So amazing that they did it two weeks in a row! Then Santa came on a fire truck and Child 3 chased him down the street. He gave her a candy cane.

In keeping with my badly behaving foreign animals theme, this dog in Britain is having a worse day than me.



If you can't tell, that is an x-ray of a string of Christmas lights that the dog, who is named Charlie, ate. Surgery managed to save Charlie, but the lights were a total loss. So thank you, Charlie, for letting me know that I don't actually have the dumbest dog on the planet. Even though The Dog drinks all the water out of the tree stand every. single. day. At least she doesn't eat the lights. 

Bad Day 160--Retraction

I need to issue a retraction. Child 3 says that I was wrong and she would never wear leggings as pants and I embarrassed her in front of 100 people and I was wrong. So Child 3, here is my apology. I am sorry. I should have realized that a child who is as fashion forward as you would never mistake leggings for pants and I should have realized you wanted your denim skirt to go over them. But in my defense, when you came to show them to me, you were wearing them on your head, so how was I to know for sure? Still, I am glad to know that I have taught you how to properly wear leggings. It is a happy moment know that you at least listen to some things I say.

Speaking of listening to people, I should listen to Child 1 more often. We went out for Chinese food, real Chinese food I might add, and I ordered all my favorite dishes and I ate way, way too much. Child 1 told me not to eat so much or it would make me sick and I said no I was fine and obviously not allergic to Chinese food so I ate a ton and now I'm sick. So Child 1 is very proud of herself and says she's turning into one of those people who is always right about everything. I'm not sure I like that. Also, I am still the mother, so my right trumps hers, but still, she was right and I was wrong. That is two things I was wrong about in 24 hours. I am so off my game. It must be the drugs (which aren't really drugs.) This is a picture of my favorite Chinese food.

This British woman in Australia is having a worse day than me. She was having a lovely walk along the beach carrying thousands of dollars in cash and jewelry which was not exactly a good idea, because a dingo came and stole her purse. 

That's right. A dingo snatched the bag right out of her hands and ran off with it. Maybe it was a British designer bag and the dingo was offended by it, but in any case, the purse is gone for good. Police put out a description of the dog, but hey, it's a dingo so it's unlikely anyone is going to turn him in. So thank you, Ms. British tourist, for reminding me that I should never take thousands of dollars worth of jewelry for a walk on the beach, and to be grateful that my purse has never been stolen by a dog. The Dog occasionally steals food, and eats my shoes, but my bags are all safely high on a shelf and out of the way.

Bad Day 159--Maybe I should start using?

Apparently, I at some point in the past month agreed to not only take 5 of Child 2's best friends to the movies for her birthday party this coming Friday, but I also said they could sleep over and I would make them pancakes in the morning. This is news to me because I remember the movie part, but I have no recollection of the slumber party part. None. At all. I suspect that something fishy is going on here because I am totally not the kind of mom that would throw a movie AND slumber party. One or the other, but not both. I told the girls I must have been on drugs and they said that I probably was and that I have been nicer since I was taking them.

I should explain that I am not taking any kind of narcotics, but maybe the combination of antacids and anti-anxiety medicine has made me have conversations I completely don't remember. Or, more likely, someone asked me when I was in the kitchen and the water was running and the TV was on and I thought they asked if I liked pancakes and I said sometimes so they figured that was a yes. Apparently, according to the children, I have said yes a lot more lately. My theory is that I'm just too tired to deal with the drama that comes with saying no, but this is going to be something I'll have to watch or the next thing I know Child 1 will think I'm taking her and 10 of her closest friends to Carlo's Bakery in Hoboken for her birthday (which is totally not happening so don't get any ideas.) This is the movie I am taking them to, so at least it will be entertaining.



It also could be that they are gas-lighting me and they know I said no such thing but this is their evil plan to make me believe I did. Or maybe I said no and because they are teenagers they just ignored me and pretended they heard yes. The invitations are all out, so it's a little late to back-track now. Good thing Husband will be home because I don't think I can take a whole day of work and then dinner and movie and slumber party and The Dog because she doesn't like slumber parties and barks every time someone goes to the bathroom or rolls over or breathes and I just pray that no one has a Hello Kitty pillowcase.

Speaking of The Dog, I put the trash can in my bathroom up on the edge of the tub because The Dog likes to eat dirty kleenex and I hate cleaning up dirty half-eaten kleenex and the top of the tub was too high for her to reach so the trash was safe. But not any more! Today, she figured out how to knock it over, probably because Child 1 threw a taco in it last night and The Dog loves nothing more than day old fast food, having been a stray and all. Now, this might lead you to believe that The Dog is smart, but that is not the case at all. Today, I took her for a walk and got locked out so I rang the doorbell. The Dog heard it and started barking and growling and tugging at her leash to kill the person invading her house by the front door which is what she does every time someone rings the bell. Except that this time it was me. And The Dog! She was barking and growling at herself! Why, oh why did Husband ever promise the children a dog? I have half a mind to send her back to Afghanistan with him.

OK, I have to stop writing and help the children find green and white clothing to wear to show support for Sandy Hook Elementary. We are all a little rattled still, but this will help them feel like they are doing something positive and everyone in the school will be participating, so we have to go find something green. Child 3 thinks she should wear a pair of white leggings as pants, so clearly this needs my full attention.

There are still many, many people having a horrible day due to the actions of one evil person, but maybe knowing that this jogger in Virginia Beach had a worse day than me will make them feel better. He was minding his own business jogging along when all of a sudden an emu started following him.



Emus are quite tall and I would be a little freaked out, but he managed to keep his cool and someone called the city and eventually the emu was returned to its owner. So thank you, VA jogger, for reminding me not to panic if a 6 foot tall bird runs up behind me someday, or to go jogging in Virginia Beach because I'm pretty sure I would not handle being stalked by a huge bird all that well.

Bad Day 158--Silent Night, and Day, and Night

I'm not speaking to Husband. He wouldn't know this because he didn't call me last night or today and if he calls tonight, I will not talk to him to tell him I am not speaking to him because that would defeat the whole purpose of the silent treatment. I know, most of you are thinking that the silent treatment is a stupid idea and doesn't really work and you would be right. But I haven't got many tools to convey displeasure while Husband is in Afghanistan and obviously sighing and putting my hands on my hips and giving him "the look" doesn't work over Skype. So the only recourse I have is to not talk to him and then write about it in this blog because I know he reads it. So Husband, when you read this, feel free to call and talk to the children because I am not speaking to you.

Today has not been a fun day. Child 1 is stomping around the house like a Grinch and being mean to everyone. And I am dealing with a Christmas Gift Disaster. I can't go into details because all of the children read this blog, but one of the gifts I had planned on may not happen and I am really, really upset about it and panicked that I won't be able find a substitute. But a few good things did happen. First, I managed to get to both Target and BJs today so I have some key elements for our Lille Jule Aften party taken care of. (If you don't know what Lille Jule Aften is, don't worry. I'll explain it all later once the cooking starts.) Second, Child 2 and Child 3 untangled some lights and we draped them on the bushes, so we're a little more lit and a little more colorful than before and they had a lot of fun helping and it looks pretty good. And third, Child 2 is wrapping some presents and just said, "This is awesome!" I'm glad she is excited, but I do have to say she picked out some things her sisters will love. So much better than the year she wanted to get them all Pokemon cards and I had to explain that gifts were supposed to be things the receiver liked, not the giver. But to be fair, she was only 9.

These football players from Arizona are having a worse day than me.



The player in the upper right behind the coach in the blue jacket got into a brawl with another player on his own team during a bowl game. No reason was stated, but both teammates were sent home with their parents. That's right--college football players were sent home from a bowl game for behaving badly. I am so impressed with their coach! And the best part is, the team won without them anyway. Wonder if they'll be back next year. So thank you, Wildcats, for reminding me that time-outs work even when you're over 18, not that my kids need them very often, but nice to have that in my tool-box just in case.

Bad Day 157--Back to purple

Today was a good day until it wasn't. I was having a great day at work. Important people were asking my opinion about issues that I know about and have an opinion on and they were listening to me! That still surprises me because nobody has been interested in my opinion for years. Years! Unless you count the tens of thousands of visa applicants in China, who really don't count because they were forced to listen to me. But seriously, even The Dog doesn't listen to me and she luuuuvs me.

But anyway, I was having a good day. Husband called, and I was getting a lot done, and then I came back from lunch and heard the news. My heart is broken and I am so, so very sad that I live in a country where this can happen. And it keeps happening and 26 families and all their friends, and co-workers, and neighbors, will never ever be the same. So today I am very grateful that my children are all home and safe and my heart goes out to Newtown, Connecticut because I know you are all having a worse day than me and I am so very sorry.

Bad Day 156--I'm a stalker!

I am a huge, huge fan of Tony Mendez who is the real person that Ben Affleck played in Argo. So when the American Foreign Service Association sent me an e-mail inviting me to come hear him speak about the movie, I RSVP'd immediately. I arrived an hour early and I dragged Child 1 with me and I was giddy like a schoolgirl. As a bonus, three of the Foreign Service officers who had been in Iran were also there--two whom Tony Mendez exfiltrated, and one who was there for the whole entire 444 days. And they were all extremely nice people. I was so impressed. I often wondered if that kind of experience would make me bitter, but Ambassador Limbert was funny and gracious and completely willing to talk about his mock execution and laughingly told me how he was promoted while in captivity and found that hilarious. It was a great experience, and the best part was that Child 1 leaned over to me and said it really made her want to join the Foreign Service. And she hates moving. So obviously they were great speakers. But back to Tony Mendez--here is a still from the movie.



He said that Ben Affleck asked him what kind of clothes he wore to work back then and did he still have any. His wife Jonna said of course not because that was over thirty years ago and then was horrified when he actually pulled a Harris Tweed jacket out of the closet. He sent it to Hollywood and Ben Affleck had one made just like it. So now his jacket is famous. Ambassador Limbert said watching what they all wore back then was the worst part of the movie, and he was held hostage for 444 days, so you would have thought the invasion scenes would be worse. But no, embarrassing fashion was and so now I am in love with him as well as Mr. Mendez.

When I got home, Husband was on the phone with Child 3 helping her do her homework. Child 3 rarely does her homework on her own and Husband knew I would be tired so he woke up early and called her to help her. So add him to the tweed-wearing heroes that I am in love with. Although, if he hadn't gone to Afghanistan in the first place, he could have helped her at home. (Sorry, Babe. Couldn't resist the dig.)

And speaking of bad male fashion, anyone wearing these is having a worse day than me.


Yes. Those are male leggings, although how you can call leggings "male" is beyond me because they are about as masculine as a tu-tu which, coincidentally, is what you should be wearing them with and most men I know cannot pull off a tu-tu. Justin Bieber apparently wears them, so I rest my case. So thank you, fashion designers who are probably British, for reminding me that there are risks that one should just not take and "meggings" would be one of them. I would rather sky-dive, and I never ever want to go sky diving. Too hard on my hair.

Bad Day 155--I'm telling Santa!

The Christmas spirit is alive and well at our house because two of the children did something nice without me begging asking them to. Child 3 made me dinner because she knew I wasn't feeling well, and Child 2 last night took out both the trash and recycling cans to the curb, and today, she brought one of them in! Without being asked! Either of them! It's a Christmas miracle. Child 1 did laundry, but I'm pretty sure it's just her clothes. Still, she will walk The Dog tonight, so that is a wonderful thing.

The reason I wasn't feeling well is because I went to my office Christmas party and ate food because I paid $15 for the privilege of standing in an extremely crowded hallway filled with too many people and much too much loud music and darn it, I want to eat more than pineapple! So I had some pulled pork and potato chips and veggies and potato salad and something made me sick. It might have been the dip. I have no idea. Or the peppermints which I ate a bunch of because those and the pineapple were the only things on the entire dessert table that I could even consider. I'm telling you, I will be the only person I know who is going to lose weight this season. I so hope it's worth it. My too small Olympic T-shirt from London is still a little tight and I want to fit into it before I go to London next spring. The one from Old Navy is a little too big, so I'm glad I didn't throw it in the Boston Harbor after all. (See Bad Day 2 or 3. I can't remember which one it was.) Cute, isn't it? Those British designers do know how to suck you in before they crush your spirit.



This pig in Ohio is having a worse day than me.



Her name is Penelope and for some reason, her owner took her for a ride in the car, and then the car was stolen. Then whoever stole it, wrecked it, most likely because there was a 300 lb. pig in the back seat. Penelope was returned to her owner unharmed, but a little freaked out. So thank you, Penelope, for reminding me to be grateful that The Dog only weighs 25 lbs and has never gone for a ride in a stolen car. Not because I love The Dog so much, but the children would never forgive me if she was stolen with the car and I would really miss the car.

Bad Day 154--Only in America

I'm watching a show about extreme Christmas decorating and I'm feeling pretty good about myself. This one woman has 168 Christmas trees in her house. Also, she and her daughter have horrifyingly bad hair. So I'm feeling like my two trees aren't excessive at all. Husband, you can stop teasing me now. She even has one upside-down hanging from her dining room ceiling. And then there is the woman who has over 5,000 "snow people" because some of them are snow women. She even makes them out of shaved ice and keeps them in her freezer. That's all that she keeps in the freezer. I guess they must eat out a lot. This is the Christmas tree lady with the bad hair. What is it with TLC and bad hair. It is the home of "What Not to Wear" so you would think people would be better about hair on their programs.



So Cheetos do not make as good a lunch as I had hoped. First, because they made me nauseous. And second because I couldn't even finish the bag. And it was a small, snack-sized one. And then even though I was nauseous and didn't feel like eating, I could tell my blood-sugar was low because I was jittery. I'm very sad about it because I had high hopes for the Cheetos, but I suppose it will be healthier in the long run if I eat salads instead. But part of the issue is that a lot of salad dressings also aren't gluten-free, so I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm getting awfully tired of mashed potatoes for lunch every single day. I think it's worth it, though, because I'm feeling pretty good after dinner and that is unusual.

Passengers on Cathay Pacific may soon be having a worse day than me, although they will probably be having the same kind of day as anyone who flies on a U.S. carrier. The flight attendants are in a dispute with the airline over wages, so instead of striking, like other airlines do, they have decided to stop smiling and may or may not serve you a meal. So, in other words, they will behave exactly like the flight attendants on every single flight I've flown in the U.S. during the past year only there is still the possibility of a meal. I'm not sure that this will get them what they want because even surly Cathay Pacific flight attendants will be nicer than most of the ones in America. Seriously, they could give lessons on how to be cranky.



So thank you, Cathay flight attendants, for reminding me to be grateful that I don't have to fly anywhere this holiday season. And Husband, I hope you actually get a meal on your flight.

Bad Day 153--The best intentions

I'm trying to go gluten-free again, and it's really, really hard. I went to Taco Bell for dinner because I am too tired to cook and it's on the way and when I come home and say it's time for dinner and the children ask what are we eating and I say Taco Bell, they jump up and down and cheer. Literally. They are teenagers and they are still thrilled by soft tacos. So I know that soft tacos and burritos are made with flour tortillas which would not be gluten-free since they are made from wheat which has gluten. But hard-shelled tacos are made from corn flour, so I thought that would be OK and then I had a brilliant idea which is that Doritos are also made from corn so that would probably be OK. But guess what? Not only does the nacho cheese flavoring have gluten, (although seriously why does powdered cheese need wheat?) but so does the meat! Ugh! So we'll see how I feel in a little bit. I'm still hoping that my doctors will find some answers, but in the meantime, I think I felt better when I wasn't eating gluten, so I'm trying that again. Trying would be the operative word because I have no idea what I'm doing.

But you know what is gluten-free? Cheetos. And ice cream. And Cheetos! So guess what I'm having for lunch tomorrow? Something completely unhealthy. But I might have a little salad just to even things out. I have to enjoy what I can and the only side benefit of this whole health mess is that I'm still losing weight, so I can have all the junk I want, which won't be very much because about 1/2 of one serving usually fills me up pretty fast. As long as it doesn't have gluten, which Cheetos don't. I wonder about Fritos?



These iPhone users in Australia are having a worse day than me. Apparently, the map app in Australia doesn't work very well and is misdirecting people. Instead of giving directions to the lovely town of Mildura which looks like this:



the iPhone is giving directions to Murray-Sunset National Park which looks like this:



Not quite the same, is it? Not only that, it sends them off on a dirt track and several people have been stranded after their cars got stuck in sand. Without food or water. In 115 degree heat (which is 46C for you metric people.) Not really the fun vacation that most of them had in mind and rather dangerous because apparently there are lots of deadly snakes in the park. Things are so bad, that the police have warned people to stop using Apple Maps to find Mildura because they are tired of rescuing people and they worry that something bad will happen. So thank you, Apple, for reminding me to be grateful that I couldn't afford an iPhone and thank you, Google, for always directing me well. Now if someone will get on that app that will fold my laundry for me. . .

Bad Day 152--Mmm.

Somebody is 12 Days of Christmasing us. It's very sweet. Last night they gave us a can of pears. Tonight, they gave us chocolate turtles and a bar of Dove soap. I've never been the recipient of the 12 Days before, even though when I was growing up, I remember doing it with my family for friends and church members. It's rather exciting being the recipient, although the children keep asking me who it is and I tell them over and over again that I have no idea. I realize that I know everything and I can read minds and I can tell when people are lying, but I am not psychic enough to tell who is anonymously leaving treats on our doorstep.

So the greatest invention of the 21st century is the laundry detergent pod.



Oh, I know. There are Mars Rovers and the iPad and smart phones, but I have never seen an iPad make the children help with chores and can a Mars Rover measure the perfect amount of detergent? And the thing that I absolutely love about them is that Procter & Gamble recently stated that they invented them because they realized that women feel stress about delegating laundry chores. Really! A company actually made a product designed to help me! On purpose! Because I'm stressed about the laundry! If they can invent a product that will fold and put away the laundry, I will marry them. And I will buy the Tide pods forever and ever until they make something better which I'm not sure they can.

These customers at a restaurant in California are having a worse day than me. Here is a picture of their receipt. See if you can tell why.



Yep. The server at the restaurant called them "fat girls" on the receipt. Then when they complained, the manager laughed and insisted they pay the bill. This seems to be a trend or at least people are noticing and posting about it on the internet, and it makes me wonder how many insults I've missed because I never read the receipt. So I'll be watching. The first waiter to call me "hot redhead" on a receipt will not only get a big tip, I'll even fill out a customer comment card raving about the service. So thank you, California girls, for reminding me to be grateful that most restaurants value their customers. I hope it never happens to you again.

Bad Day 151--Finally, Christmas time is here!

We made a good dent in the Christmas decorations and finished decorating one of the trees and Child 3 is upstairs right now starting on the 2nd. The first tree is mine and has a theme and looks the same every year. We use forest green and cranberry ribbons as garland and fill in the bare spots with poinsettias. This year, I wanted to switch things up by using gold ribbon instead, but I was told by Child 1 in no uncertain terms that the tree must look the same every single year or it won't be Christmas. She loves the way we decorate the tree and she puts on Christmas music and sings along and says that our tree is the prettiest she's ever seen and it's perfect. So I guess I shouldn't mess with either tradition or perfection. Some families change the theme of their trees over the years, but we won't. Not as long as Child 1 is in charge. So about 5 more years and then I can to tropical! Just kidding. But someday, we will need new ribbon. This is not our tree, although it's not far off the ugly one we bought in China but that one was fake and bright green. Kelly green. Oh, it was horrible.



Child 3 is decorating the tree by herself because Child 1 and Child 2 are babysitting tonight. Not each other, other people's children. Responsible teenage girls are in high demand in December and mine are very responsible about most things. Not chores. I hope no one expects their house to be clean or the dishes done. And forget taking out the trash. But they can expect lots of playtime with the kids and tons of stories because they are very good at playing and reading. Also napping, but I really hope they don't do that while babysitting.

These elephant conservationists in Thailand are having a worse day than me. I know you're thinking that they're in Thailand and working with elephants, so what could be so bad? This. This is what is so bad.



Her job is to pick coffee beans out of elephant dung. Coffee beans which are then washed and roasted and turned into coffee that is sold for $500 per pound.. First, I don't even want to know how bad that smells, and second, what an awful job! It does help to pay the keep for the elephants, but ew! So thank you, Thai mahouts, for reminding me to be grateful that I don't drink coffee and also, I will never have to dig through elephant dung. Good luck with your business, though. I hope it makes enough money to keep the elephants safe.

Bad Day 150--No pictures, please!

 I have this theory that people who grew up after digital cameras were invented are much more comfortable with pictures of themselves than those of us who didn't. I base this theory on a long-term, exhaustive study of a large sample of children. OK, really just my children and really mostly Child 1 and Child 3. Child 1 posts a lot of pictures on facebook. And there are approximately 8 billion pictures of Child 3 on our computer, all of her making various faces, sometimes with props. My favorite is the one with the Groucho Marx glasses and a fake eyeball. Child 1 found it and sent it to me one bad day to cheer me up and it totally worked. I would post a picture of it but since I don't want to even reveal their names let alone their pictures, here is one of Groucho Marx instead.



When I was Child 3's age, I didn't own a camera. When I finally got one at age 12, I was so happy that I took an entire roll of film the first day which meant a whole 12 pictures and I got a lecture from my mother on wasting film on unimportant things. But back then, not only did you have to wait until the roll was finished before you could develop it, then you had to wait for the pictures to come back which took a few days, and when they did, they were always over exposed and grainy and most of them looked horrible, but you still had to pay for them anyway. I have thrown away a lot of bad photos of me so as a result, I think there are a total of 5 in existence and most of them are from before I was 2. OK, that's an exaggeration. I have a couple of my wedding, so maybe there are 7. Not anywhere close to the 8 billion of Child 3. Child 2, you need to take some more photos to catch up. Get snapping!

This grocery store worker in New Mexico is having a worse day than me. He found a loaded pistol in a box of ribs. Seriously. Here is a picture of the very scary gun.



What is a loaded pistol doing in a box of ribs, you may ask? I have no idea, and I hope I never have to find out. But not only was this guy probably given the fright of his life, now the police are mad at him because apparently he wiped down the gun before turning it in. To be fair, it probably had icky meat stuff all over it, but still, has this guy never seen an episode of CSI, or NCIS, or Law & Order, or The Closer or Hawaii 5-0? I think there may be a police procedural drama on every single minute and they all show how important fingerprints on the gun are, which unless you are living in a bubble and only watch nature-documentaries on PBS, you would know. So thank you, Mr. Shelf Stocker, for reminding me to be grateful that I have never bought meat that included a gun. Then again, I have never bought ribs, so maybe that has lessened my chances.

Btw, the tests went fine in that I don't have cancer, but still no answers. Extra props go to my friend "Stevie" for not only getting up to drive me at 5:45am, but also bringing me dinner even though I told her not to. She totally rocks, and so does her potato soup. 

Bad Day 149--Vikinger!

I'm apologizing now because this post isn't going to be very funny. I got a phone call from the hospital today and they have moved my test date closer! Yay! It's tomorrow. at 6am. So now I'm drinking the awful medicine they are making me take beforehand and I'm having a tough time getting it all down. It's quite nasty. Which means that I'm not feeling very funny tonight. I knew that this stuff would make me sick, but I didn't think I'd be this sick.

For those of you worrying that I have lost to much weight, you can stop worrying. I, um, have plenty of extra, so I can lose double what I've already lost and I'd still be OK. I have this theory that people whose ancestors lived in areas of the world where food was readily available are not genetically predisposed to store fat. My ancestors, on the other hand, lived in a world where it was literally feast or famine and they needed to store up fat during the summer, which lasted about 6 weeks if you could even call it summer, to make it through the long, cold, dark winters when there was no food. Unfortunately, my genes are still acting like its 800 AD and I need to survive a Danish winter, so I've been storing up for the famine for years. Now the famine has arrived, of sorts, so I can happily state that my body for once is doing what it should have been doing all along which is eating up my fat stores. Here is a picture of my ancestors on one of their family summer vacations.



Child 2's Christmas concert is tonight and I am missing it because I am too sick, so not many people are having a worse day than me. But this handyman might have. Some crazy people whose relative was in a dispute with him invited him over to do some work for them. Instead of paying him, they kidnapped him and forced him to make repairs around their house. I'm sure they thought it was a good idea at the time, but now they are in jail on felony charges. So thank you, clueless repair needers, for reminding me to always pay my handyman. But since it's usually Husband who makes all the repairs, all I usually need is a pan of lasagna.