Worst Christmas Ever

All evidence of the 2009 Christmas has been removed from the house. No pictures were taken. There is no video documentation. For all intensive purposes, this Christmas never happened.

It all began with a snowstorm. Forecasted as the biggest storm since the Great Halloween Blizzard of 1991, the flakes began falling on Wednesday and didn't stop until Saturday morning. For obvious reasons, the family members that lived out of town didn't come down so, rather than having a houseful of guests on Christmas Eve, we were alone. Henry and I met up with some friends and went sledding that afternoon at St. Anthony Golf Course. This was the highlight of the weekend. That night, I started to feel sick and woke up the next morning in a full-blown asthma attack. Hit my inhaler and made it through the day, but wound up in the ER Christmas night. Watched the Elf marathon on USA a couple of times before they sent me home with a strong nebulizer med, antibiotics and steroids.

We headed up to my parents on Saturday morning since we felt the roads were safe. Chaos ensued once my crew intermingled with my brother's brood. As we were opening gifts in the late afternoon, I suddenly spiked a fever. I crawled into bed and wondered if this was the beginning of pneumonia. Then, the smell of prime rib wafted under the door and rumors of watching The Hangover were circulating so I got up. (For those of you who have asthma - do not watch The Hangover with a tight chest. There were a couple of times I thought I was going to literally die laughing.) My fever broke about 3 hours later and never came back. The next day, we packed up and left for home, Henry staying behind to spend the week with his cousins.

Monday, I got home from work and crashed in bed. Woke up around 8:30 and decided to go to the urgent care. Typically, once I'm on steroids, the cough and tightness are gone within a couple of days. I was getting worse and my lungs were now filled with crap. The doc listened to my lungs, looked at the cocktail of medications I was put on previously and decided that, because I wasn't responding, there was a hospital bed with my name on it. I said no (see previous posts regarding how my work feels about me being sick). So he wrote me a note and, as he wrote, he said, "Ms. Ince needs to be hospitalized for her asthma so fuck off." I really liked this guy. I went home with a different antibiotic and more steroids.

I'm not sure how I made it through the week. I still feel like shit. I think I'm slowly getting better, but it is taking far longer than it should. I got winded just putting away the ornaments. Dave met my parents halfway yesterday and then all the boys headed straight up to the other Grandparent's house for the "make-up Christmas". I'm staying put. Me and my new iMac are hanging out and getting to know each other. I make out with my nebulizer every 4 hours. I keep looking outside at the ice sheet in the park and wonder if I'm ever going to get well enough to skate this year. Ok, so maybe that's a depressing stretch of pessimism, but that's my current state of mind.

Yes, there were good parts (like when Henry came into our room Christmas morning and asked if either of us had wished for a bicycle because there was one in the living room without a name on it), but, compared to a typical fun and family filled holiday, it was lonely and depressing. I've been mourning the loss of my (not backed up) MacBook hard drive and all the pictures of Johnny's first year along with it. No holiday card went out. I didn't even make the cookies. I honestly just want to wipe the memory of the whole past month out of my head.

Bah humbug.

Letter to Banana Republic

I was just in your downtown Minneapolis store looking to purchase a wool trench coat. I understand that yesterday (12/2/09) the store was offering a 40% discount on full price items and will be doing the same on Monday. I kindly asked the clerk to give me the coat at that discount today since there was only one left in my size and I missed yesterday's sale. She would not and acted as though this was the most ridiculous request she had ever heard. I then asked if she could hold the coat until Monday and, again, she sad she could not accommodate my request.

I have shopped frequently at this store in the past year as I work downtown in the financial industry and find Banana's line fitting for my office environment while allowing me to maintain my sense of style (not to mention that it's in a convenient location for lunchtime shopping). In this time of declining retail sales, I would have hoped the staff would have wanted to make this sale and retain a returning customer, but that is, apparently, not their priority. If the salesperson had been a little more friendly in her response rather than condescending, I would consider swinging by again on Monday to see if the coat is still there. At this point, however, I find the service I've received to be less than par and I'm sure there are other retailers who would appreciate my business.

SNAP!

Update: Ok, so I may have embellished the truth a bit above. I got a response back from Banana that said they were sorry and thanks for the heads up. That's it. Pfffffft. Totally canned response. All I really wanted was for the salesperson not to be such a snot. It was the look of "this woman is crazy" that pissed me off. I'm not crazy - I just really wanted that coat but didn't want to pay $230 for it. Oh, well. The funny part is that, at the end of the day, when I went to zip up my North Face jacket, the zipper broke. I no longer have a functioning coat to get me through days like today (20 degrees with a windchill of 7) or worse. Gotta love Minnesota winters!

Johnny's Golden Birthday

What's with golden birthday's anyway? Apparently, it's a Midwest thing, but I've never understood what the big deal is. If you're a kid, every year is a golden birthday since anytime you get presents is damn cool. When you've achieved college age, it's just your birthday - do you really need more of a reason to party hard? After that, you're either still acting like you were in college and just don't need that extra reason, or, you're too tired from work/parenting/living a grown-up life and could care less. For me, it was my 30th birthday. I do remember getting tanked that night (I danced around getting people to do Jag shots with me), but it was really all about the fact that I was 30, not that it was my golden birthday.

Johnny really gets screwed. His will be birthday numero uno - the one that is really more for the parents (yay - we managed to keep the little creature alive for a whole year - this is way easier than having a plant!).

Since he will be celebrating next weekend with a cake, he enjoyed a slice of homemade pumpkin pie with some whipped cream today. Granted, he really, really enjoyed it but the poor guy won't remember how much fun we had.

Or how delicious the pie was.

I'm old.

I just changed my profile to say I'm in my "late-30's". Used to say "mid-30's". Who am I trying to kid?

There are Christmas decorations up and carols playing downtown.

Yesterday morning, Dave and I welcomed the season in very different ways. Both of us were up before dawn, making preparations for the morning's events. While he was donning bright orange clothes, I was trying to get a pair of breezers on a mite already wearing knee pads. As he climbed up a tree, I poured a bowl of Rice Krispies, opened some yogurt and prepped a bowl of baby cereal and fruit. As he silently watched and listened to the woods wake up around him, I woke a sleeping baby who still managed to be Happy Morning Guy while gobbling down his breakfast much earlier than usual. As he sat patiently waiting for the sun to announce the dawn, I was trying to get an impatient baby into the mei tai in a parking lot. As Dave was realizing that the buck in the distance wasn't going to get close enough, I watched The Boy skate out onto the ice for the first team practice of the hockey season.

Welcome to winter in Minnesota.

Cash Money

I've recently discovered the neatness of Craigslist. Am I behind the times? John has grown out of a few things, and I got sick of them taking up space in my little house so I listed them a couple weeks ago. Two of the biggest items, a co-sleeper and his jumperoo, were out of my house by last Friday. Cash in my pocket...just like that! The co-sleeper went to a really cute, VW driving couple expecting a little girl soon. Being the stalker I am, I looked her up on FaceBook and discovered they were bible-bangers. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm just glad I didn't say something like, "Fuck - It's hard to get this god damn thing all folded up!" or "God dammit! I just pinched my finger!". I actually didn't even utter a censored version of the above since I was trying to make a sale and, well, you know. I'm sure my struggling with it was evidence enough that the damn thing is hard to get all folded up and put back in the bag. I have not FB stalked the woman who bought the jumperoo. I just don't want to know and now I'm uncomfortable for doing it in the first place. FaceBook has made life sort of weird. I wonder if they stalked me...

There's something about the Bumbo seat, though. I've had three different inquiries and they all flake out. The first hit was a woman who wanted to come pick it up that day. She left me her phone number and I both called her and responded to her email. Never heard from her again. Same thing with the second woman. Said she really wanted it and was wondering when she could come pick it up. Left her a message and never heard back. The last woman asked if it was still available and I promptly responded. She then came back and said she was in contact with another woman who was selling it for the same price as me ($25 - half the retail price) and asked if I'd take $20. I replied no because it was hardly used and like new (John only used it for a few weeks before he figured out how to wiggle out of it). Now, I don't blame her for haggling - in fact, the jumperoo woman knocked me down $10. But when she replied, "Your loss.", I was like, really? Do you have to be a snot about it?

Henry and I promptly blew the jumperoo profits at the movie theater.

Cloth Diaper Give-Away - Wicked Cuteness!

Oh my gosh - if you cloth diaper, you have to check out Fluffy Mail! One thing I've found in trying to cloth diaper a boy (well, to dress a boy in general) is that there is waaaay more cuteness out there for girls. I don't like race cars. I don't like football on any day except for Sunday (and an occasional Monday night). It's not fair. The women at Fluffy Mail solve that problem by offering TONS of embroidery options so you can design your own. Very cool and much appreciated!

Check out Oh Baby O for the chance to win one of these super sweet dipes. Please note that I'm totally going to win, though. I have my eye on this one and WANT IT DESPERATELY!!!