Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas everyone! I love you all.

Coping mechanims

Yes, I know my blog has kind of been a downer lately. So, here is a picture of holiday merriment and cheer taken at our ward Christmas party yesterday. Mia decided she didn't trust the santa enough to sit on his lap and made him stand next to her in the picture instead. The power of a determined not-quite-four year old is a sight to behold.

Today was another relaxing (Ha!) Sunday in the Hanosek household. I was languidly aroused from sleep by a cheerful little angel insisting that she needed me to play snake family (Mia's newest rendition of playing house...thank goodness she has moved past spider family, it was icky). And I jaunted merrily down the stairs to make a well balanced breakfast, simmered in love...in my mind. In reality I sat Mia down in front of the TV with a sippy cup of pink milk and went back to bed with my full blown case of mono. Charlie eventually felt guilty enough to get out of bed and make the poor child pancakes. We cleaned ( I recently discovered that if I tell Mia that we are playing Cinderella she will pitch in a little bit with chores. Yes I am a genius, tell your friends). I started stuff cooking in the crockpot, feeling quite smug with myself since I was obviously a successful little housewife with dinner started already. Then I looked at the clock and realized that I only had about 20 minutes until I had to be at church. I tossed a dress at Mia and prayed it didn't have any stains on it and decided that I just wasn't going to have time to do my hair, or shower, or any such nonsense and grabbed my "nursery uniform" (aka a long enough skirt that I can crawl around on the floor and a shirt with a high enough neck line that I can lean over and break up fights without exposing myself) and tugged it on while running out the door. (don't worry, my neighbors are used to me.)

Once there, it became obvious that either I had buttoned my top crookedly or someone had spread the word that I was not only disease ridden, but in the process of watching my mom lose her battle with cancer. I hate pity even if it is just for an unfortunate haircut. I can handle just about anything with my sword of scathing sarcasm and sheild of inappropriate humor, but the minute someone is sweet and caring about me I generally fall apart. Sympathy quickly reduces me to a blubbering mess, and I was already a mess with my lack of shower and what not, so church couldn't be over too soon for me. Luckily I got to hide in the nursery among the three year olds for most of the time. Preschoolers don't care about the health of your mom or what sort of diseases you are carrying, they only care about who has the fruit snacks.

So, now I have three choices. I could either hide in my house and not talk to anyone until I have reinforced my hard candy coating of self depreciation and can deflect all well meaning relief society thugs, or I could just take it and allow everyone in a five mile radius to see that I am a mere mortal, and an emotionally unstable one at that. The third option I have come up with is to trip anyone who comes up to me with a somber and sincere look on their face and point and laugh at them to break the tension. So, who wants to guess which one I am leaning towards?

Ok, really, here is my moment of serious gratitude...are you ready?....take a deep cleansing breath because here it comes... I never realized how many amazing wonderful people actually care about me and what I am dealing with. I am a very lucky girl to associate all of you. And if I trip you and point and laugh it is done out of love from the bottom of my heart.

What happened to Santa?

Mia's one and only true wish this Christmas it to have a flying Barbie. Yes, I know that there is no such thing as a flying Barbie, but I haven't been able to effectively convey that to her and she is generally pretty sure that she is right about everything and her mom is kind of an idiot. Now, I haven't had much practice at this playing Santa gig that all parents are suppose to do, this is only my third go at it. So I'm not exactly sure how to proceed. I got her a Barbie with huge butterfly wings ( I don't know why, but it kind of creeps me out) but I know that the minute she opens it she is going to launch it into the air and be bitterly disappointed. So, do I just not give it to her, or would that be a bigger disappointment? Or do I explain that Santa's elves are huge slackers and didn't make the Barbie properly and they will be receiving a letter from my lawyer? Ooo! Or maybe I could create an elaborate system of fishing line and pulleys all over our house and hook it up so it appears to be flying and just hope it never crosses her mind to take it anywhere else. Suggestions? Comments?

The other things she has asked for are: a puppy, an iPod, and a pony. Now I am kind of secretly asking Santa for a puppy too, but my husband has threatened something akin to a Hulk type reaction if a dog ever comes into his home. So, a puppy may be on hold until he softens up a little...or goes senile or something. And a pony wouldn't be too happy in the back yard of our little home with .15 acres so I'm pretty sure that one is dead in the water too. However, I do have an old iPod sitting around since I got my new one so I suppose I could easily download the Wiggles (and her other favorite songs that I won't admit I let her listen to) and wrap it up for her, but there is something fundamentally wrong with a three year old with an iPod. Wouldn't it be kind of unnerving to see a little girl who can't even read yet wandering through the mall with the little ear buds in? I'll have to think that one through some more before I decide what to do.

Oh, and the one thing that makes me do a little happy dance is that she has asked for lip gloss...lots and lots of lip gloss. I have a bit of a penchant for any sort of lip covering (Yes, I know that is an understatement, stop rolling your eyes) and it sort of warms my heart that I have passed that trait on to the future generation.

So, I'm wondering, does this Santa gig ever get any easier? Should I be rooting for the day she is a teenager and I can just hand her a wad of cash and say "Merry Christmas, kid" and still be a good parent?

let the breakdown commence

In this morning's entry I mentioned that I was expecting a holiday induced meltdown of some sort. And here it is. In the last few hours I have had phone calls informing me of a few stress inducing incidents. For example; first, my dad called to explain that my mom has taken a serious turn for the worse (which, given her two year battle with cancer is not completely unexpected, but still it sucks all the same). Shortly after I received a call from my doctor's office informing me that my routine blood screenings have confirmed that I am in the throe's of a mononucleosis extravaganza (seriously, after high school that is just embarrassing...however, come to think of it, of all the people I know who have had mono, none of them have procured it through make out sessions with random strangers.) Oh! And then I got a call from Mia's preschool teacher who wanted to inform me that my sweet angelic little girl had kicked another teacher in the shin when she tried to help her put on her hat (Mia has a thing about not getting near her ears...touching her ears usually instigates a full blown nuclear holocaust.)

So, here I sit, with nary a present purchased or wrapped, with the energy level of a ficus, crossing my fingers that my three year old doesn't get charges pressed against her, and desperately wishing I were a drinker so I didn't have to think about the manilla envelope that has been sitting on top of my fridge for the last six months that contain the plans my mother has made for her funeral.

I may not be much for Christmas cheer this year, but I definitely throw a rockin' pity party. Everyone's invited.

Oh what tangled webs we weave

So, this morning I woke up way too early, did all the normal morning things, and then rushed Mia to get dressed and get her hair done so that we could go....nowhere. After I had us all ready for the day I got a text that there was no work for me to pick up this morning. I then realized there was not a real need to go to the grocery store today, and I don't have to drive the preschool car pool for another two hours. Hmmm. Free time kind of baffles me. I suppose it is now time to start cleaning my house, but sitting here checking facebook and reading all the news headlines is more fun, and no one will ever know that I was lazy on this frigid Monday morning...except you. But you won't tell, because then I will have to spill the dirt on you...you know what I'm talking about, don't make me say it.

Facebook is an odd phenomenon. I have been a proud member for a week now and I still fail to see the point. I have reconnected with a bunch of people from my past, whom I love, but I have nothing to discuss with them on a regular basis. And the ones I do have stuff to talk about with I could just call, because they're the people I talk all the time anyway, like my husband, or my next door neighbor. Weird. Maybe I'm not doing it right. Perhaps if I stopped to ask my ex-boyfriend's roommate from college why he ended up working in the coroner's office a whole new perspective on life would open to me. Or maybe the girl I sat next to in sixth grade has some vital information to share with me that would make my life more meaningful. Or, maybe I am doing it right and it is just a way for bored housewives to avoid their chores when they are feeling lazy.

The thing I have noticed is that people who communicate on the web have a very unrealistic sense of anonymity. They say and do things that a normal person wouldn't do in public, because hey, who will know right? I, on the other hand of paranoia, am all too aware of who may be reading this. I have refrained from sharing my latest waxing escapades or irritations with my neighbors (no, not you Bonnie, or Ashley, or Joy (see what I mean? You never know who you might be typing to.)), because my dad or home teachers could happen upon this little online journal.

P.S., I'm sorry entries have been a little sparse of late. It's the holidays, and I am doing my best to not have my annual nervous breakdown.