Solicitors

When we first moved into "the Truman Show" almost nine years ago, we were bombarded with solicitors.  Foreign kids selling "their artwork".  People wanting to maintain our grass, our water, our lives.  Spiritual beings bringing us messages of salvation.  Individuals who thought we needed magazines, peepholes in our doors, and windshields replaced on the front drive.  Even though we had a huge no soliciting sign on our front door, there were days, always in the summer, where we'd have three or four of these types in a day.  It got to be exhausting making small talk, listening to the smooth talked message, and then declining the service.  Because of the soliciting, we just quit answering the door and kept the blinds closed a lot.  There is always so much confrontation with solicitors, when they know the "no" is coming and it makes me uncomfortable.  Gives me a stomach ache.  Stresses me out.

In the new house, I can't block us off from the world.  The front door is all windows and glass.  And whats worse?  My children are like little dogs...when they hear a knock or a doorbell ring, they race to the door because it's got to be something awesome waiting for them.  Now, most of the time it's a neighbor or the UPS man, but  a lot of the time it isn't.

Last fall, as I walked out to get the mail, I counted four different solicitors making their way around my street.  I raced into the house, headed upstairs and grabbed a piece of paper.  In all CAPITAL LETTERS I wrote a quick note, "NO SOLICITING.  Thank you!" and taped it to the window right by the door bell.

For the most part, it works.  People either read the sign and leave us alone, we aren't home, or I'm able to yell at the dogs stop the boys before they open the door and let the strangers in for a drink and some cookies.  Please know that this is an issue we work on daily - the whole door thing.  They are getting better and haven't actually opened the door for someone for a long time.  They do though, still rush the door to see who it is and then if they don't know, they run away, thus, requiring me to answer the door and see what someone wants to sell.

Anyway, flash forward to this afternoon.  We had just had a UPS delivery - new shoes for Disneyland - and were watching Star Wars Clone Wars.  The boys were a little pumped up.  Just as I walked into the bathroom to use the facilities the doorbell rang.  I heard the rush of their little, new shoe wearing, light saber wielding feet rush to the door.  I yelled at them from the bathroom "DON"T ANSWER THE DOOR" and finished what I was doing.

I suppose I could have just ignored the fact that the doorbell rang.  I'm not sure which is more rude.  Ignoring the door after my boys have made it obvious that we are home or saying "no thank you" several times, some forcefully to the solicitor.

Today our friendly neighborhood door knocker was Carl.  He was large and in charge and a smooth talker.  He talked a lot about "pay it forward" so much so that I thought that was the organization he was representing.  He started off nice enough, asking me about my life and stuff....the usual.  The he pulled out a giant bill-fold of little packets.  The first one he wanted me to write my name and that he was courteous.  Sure, I could do that but there was a catch.  If I signed, I had to buy magazines.  Now, the magazines were for me and would be sent to the homeless shelter and the Ronald McDonald house.  Um...okay.  I continued to listen and then told him that I wasn't interested in giving him $60 for magazines that I didn't want or need.

The next billfold came out to tell me that for a smaller donation, I could send magazines to charities and not get any for myself.  I declined.

Then the next billfold came out for me to give him a cash donation.  Here's the thing.  My husband and I donate 10 percent of our income to our church and that money is used all over the world to help people in need.  I give money to St. Jude's children's hospital and the disabled American veterans regularly because they send me address labels and cute little notebooks with teddy bears on them.  I donate to food drives whenever I know of one.  I tip generously every where I go.  I do my best to be charitable and generous.

Ross bought magazines from a lady last November because he thought she was nice.  We've never ever received one of those magazines.

I was not going to buy magazines from Carl.  When I told him this, he got a little angry and challenged me, asking if I believed in giving people an opportunity, in "Pay int forward", and why was I making him go back to his hotel room to tell his son he didn't make any money today.

Holy guilt trip batman.

It didn't work.

I didn't buy.

He yelled "God Bless" as he stomped off my porch.

My sign told him not to ring the bell.

Hello out there……

I have a new house. I really like my new house.

I'm surrounded by boxes.

My baby has a stomach virus and puked in the car twice this weekend.

I went to a walmart grocery store out of desperation.

We started most awesome private swimming lessons today.

I have no Internet.

Talk to you later.

Today is the day...well, one of the days...

Today is the day.

Today, I sign away my rights to the house I am sitting in right now....along with forking over a giant check for a decent sum of money.

Today, I sign my name on a bunch of papers for my new digs...along with forking over a giant check for an even larger sum of money.

Today, I am excited. So excited. I'm so excited that I just can't hide it. I love my cute little house dearly. She has been so good to us in the last 6.5 years of our residing within her walls. We have brought babies home to this house, repainted a handful of times, created the yard and truly made it our own. That's a big deal. We've taken really good care of her.

But, it's time to move on. Time for a new neighborhood and new scenery and a new place to go to church. It's time for new yard projects and new paint colors and a space big enough to host some parties.  We've worked hard to pay off debt and get ourselves in a position to make this move work.  I'm proud of that.  I'm proud of my husband for being such a good worker because being jobless as I am, the financial burden of life falls on his shoulders and he's doing a great job keeping us afloat.

I'm lucky that this has all worked out. Very lucky. Count my lucky stars lucky. I love my friends and am so thankful that I'm only moving a little over a mile from where I'm at right now. It's only five minutes to get back into the land of familiar so I can visit, drop off cookies, or just do a drive by when the mood feels right.

I'm excited.

We get the keys tomorrow. I might start pulling weeds tonight. I'll probably get dirt ready to transplant my peony tomorrow.

We move on Friday. We'll sleep in "THE NEW HOUSE!" Friday night....without window coverings.

Feel free to come by and stare.

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down....

I love to sleep. There may not be anything in the world I like better than a mid day nap on a warm day with a slight breeze. I'll open my window, find a light blanket, dim the lights and drift off to la la land for an hour, or two, and it's sheer bliss. I look forward to the days when my boys are old, and then like to sleep in and I can be one of those moms who doesn't get dressed on a Saturday morning, or Christmas vacation until 11:00 or later. Oh, that will be the day.

The spring has been so cool this year that my tulips have lasted twice as long. I'm having a huge internal dilemma about my flowers. Do I leave my tulip bulbs for the new people to enjoy in the spring or do I dig them all up and bring them with me to my new home? And, what about my peony? I've been taking care of it for almost three years and this year, I think, is the year it's actually going to flower. How do I safely get it out of the ground? I desperately want my flowers but I don't know the best way to transfer and protect them.

This is what I think about when I'm trying to not think about anything else.

Naps and flowers.

And pulling weeds.

I really like to do yard work. I enjoy mowing the lawn and pulling weeds and planting flowers. I do not enjoy grasshoppers or hornets or crickets but I suppose that goes with the territory.

There are so many things I like about what will soon be my new house, but what I'm most looking forward to is having a new yard. A bigger yard with more flower beds, more grass, and for the first little while, enough weeds to pull to keep me busy for a long time.

I may be setting up the yard, before I set up the house.

Oh, I'm excited.

I can hardly wait.

If I were a patient sort of person....

A couple of weeks ago my mom bought a new car. She decided on a make and model a while ago and was just waiting for a gently used version to hit the market. She could have paid for it in cash but chose not to...probably just to bug my dad. She bought the new-to-her car from Car Max. You know, the place where the sticker tells you what the car costs and you pay it. No barter.  No hassle.  She saw the sticker, paid the price and drove home with her new station wagon on crack.

I've ranted before on this blog about customer service, coupons, and all my aversions to bartering, bargaining, and getting a deal. It is incomprehensible to most, particularly my husband, why I am willing to pay the asking price for products and services large and small. He says that most of the world functions as if it were a Moroccan Bazaar - where the ASKING price is very different than the actual SALE price. I say, "I don't go to the grocery store for a gallon of milk and tell them that even though the price is $1.39 I only have 10 pennies so that is what I will pay."  I just pay for my milk and tell the checker to have a nice day.

My husband and I? We're very different. For example, when I need a new shirt, I go to a store and buy a new shirt. I wander, peruse the merchandise, check out the sale rack, pick my item and pay. I bring it home, wear it the next day and call the experience a success. That boy I married? He wanders a store forever, carries 10 shirts around trying to make a decision, tries stuff on, only buys stuff on sale, brings his purchase home, tries it on again and then more often than not, decides he doesn't like it. Then he returns that shirt to the store. Sometimes he returns the return.

In my purchase decision making I am definite. In his purchase decision making he is indefinite.  I say the offer is good and he says there is always a better offer.

Husband vs. Wife thing?  Man vs. Woman issue?  I don't know.  I do know however that this is NOT a good yin and yang when trying to buy a house.

I don't know how many counter offers (counter to the counter to the counter) are kosher when trying to buy a new house. I don't know what is reasonable to ask for when buying a new home. I do know that I wish house buying was like my mom buying a car at Car Max - the price is the price and deal with it.

Today I signed a contract for a new home. A home that two and a half weeks ago I walked through it and said to myself, "This is a beautiful home. I could live here for a long time. I like it. It's not perfect, but nothing is. It will do." I took my husband back to see this home. He wandered and paced the floors.  He opened cupboards and closets.  He found every flaw.  He was, in essence, trying it on just like a shirt from Banana Republic.

We left the house to see others. Nothing we saw (or have seen) has compared to this home so we decided to make an offer. We waited and waited for a response.  The response came in the form of a very "ungenerous" counter offer.  We then countered the counter. Then they countered the countered counter......it's gone on for an entire week.  It's been making me sick and frustrated.  It's made me have strange dreams about cancer and divorce.

I talked to my husband whom I love dearly last night. I asked him, "do you like this house? Could you see yourself living in this house?" He told me yes, but that he wanted a better deal. I told him that I think we've got the best deal we're going to get and we should probably take it.

He told me this morning that we were lined up with our realtor to see three more houses tonight.  Just to see what else is out there.  Just to see if instead of a white linen button down I might want a blue gingham mandarin collar.

I told him no!

You see - I'm done shopping. I'm done "returning" my purchase. In 2.5 weeks I am going to be homeless. A family from Florida is buying my house and as generous as the offer is, I don't want to spend time in a basement.  Our clock is ticking (the store is closing) and I want to move into my own house and start setting up shop as quickly as possible. I shopped and found a house I liked. It fit. I'm satisfied. I don't need to try on a different size of house and I don't need any coupons (like a short sale).

Phew!  Did you make it this far?  Are the shirt analogies confusing?

Moral of the story?
If I ever live in Morocco I will never go to a bazaar.

The Decision to Sell

Sometimes in life there are miracles. Little things happen, subtle things that you don't really even pay attention to...maybe because they are created by a high power, to let you know that you have made a right decision.

We'd been discussing the possibility of selling our cute little house for the last 6 months or so. We had the carpets cleaned, the house professionally painted, a few minor problems fixed all in anticipation of putting the house for sale this spring. We've looked at so many homes online that the urge to move bug has just been swimming in all our minds.

I never would have imagined that when a sign went up in my front yard last week that eight (yes, only 8!) days later my house would have a buyer, be under contract for sale, and I'd be frantically venturing out with our realtor looking for the next house.

But like I said, sometimes miracles happen. The sale could still fall through. I could still live in my house for another year or two, but right now I'm really excited. I'm excited to give my boys a yard to run and play instead of an alley and find my husband his third car garage. I'm excited at the possibility of having a "gourmet" kitchen with an island, maybe even some granite.

I love my little house. The thought of moving has brought tears to my eyes. This is the home where we became a family - where we've hosted parties and where my babies came home. There is so much sentimental goo oozing through the walls. But, I'm ready to move on. Ready for a new neighborhood, a new floor plan and a fresh start.

And that miracle thing? Seriously. How can my cute little house sell so quickly is such a bad market? One, I think it's a sign (yes, I believe in signs) that we've probably made the right decision and two, I'm pretty certain that there are some folks up in heaven working some magic for me and my little family. And for that I will continue to live right, be good, and do the best job I can in all that I do.

This truly is a blessing from heaven.

3 days in...

I slipped on the landing of my stairs on New Year's Day and hurt my ankle a bit.  I just wasn't paying much attention and my ankles sometimes forget their jobs.

Yesterday, post shower, just wearing my slip and a shirt, while biting a hang nail, I also wasn't paying attention and I fell down all 12 steps from upstairs to down.  It was probably pretty comical if it hadn't have been happening to me.  I flew in the air like a cartoon cat, landed with a thud, broke a stair, and slid all the way down to the landing that tripped me up two days before.  My left butt cheek is bruised down through my thigh, I have carpet burn on my upper left arm, my right wrist and hand hurts and I might have broken my back.

Also, just for the record: the brakes in my car aren't working well, my furnace isn't keeping the house warm, the house is a mess, the husband worked all weekend, and might be sleeping at the office all week long.  And, I sort of made a pact with myself to lay off the sugar a bit this week and after exercising this morning I went straight for the left over chocolate frosting in the fridge.

Grrrrr.  Why do I do that?

Yes, 2011, you're getting off to an awesome start.

Anyone have a little blowup donut I can sit on?

Day Twenty-One: Snow Day

The month of November is National Blog Posting Month. This is my 5th year participating. This year, for thirty days, I'll be telling stories from some point in my life. Enjoy!



First big snow of the season.

That's all I have to say about that.

What did you do this weekend?

We put the kids to work of course.

Shining shoes....



and vacuuming the house.



They were whining a lot, so the manual labor seemed appropriate.

And, I made round two of croissants. Better than the first, but still a long way to go. Julia Child, why does it have to be so hard.

cleaning and thinking

Today, my living room is in the kitchen. My bedroom is in the bathroom and the boys bed stuff is topsy turvy all over the house in every remaining space.

Yes, folks, today the carpets are getting cleaned. Oh, so exciting. When We pulled back the living room area rug last night and saw the damage, Ross exclaimed, "Man, we're dirty people"

I was a bit offended. We are not dirty people but we do wear our shoes all over the house.

The realignment of furniture however has got me thinking about a couple of things.

1 - We don't have THAT much stuff. It could be so much worse (Hoarder!) and we have a ton of little kid crap but we easily moved all our furniture around in about 90 minutes last night with two small helpers. That's no tiny feat. I mean yesterday we were out running errands and Elliott was whining that he wanted to go to a toy store (how does he even know what that is?) and I managed to subdue him with a donut. See - no extra stuff brought into the house.

2 - My house feels very spacious without any furniture. We've been seriously contemplating moving in the next little while to a home with a different floor plan, a fenced in yard, and far enough away from the neighbors that we don't see into their living room windows at night. However, with all the stuff moved around, it doesn't feel quite as clausty. Maybe that means that all the toys can just go from the kitchen table to the garbage.

3 - I want to paint my front door red but Ross wont' let me because he says I won't do a good job. I just needed to say that out loud

4 - Moving furniture could be scary because you never know what's behind the couch, or the bed, or that chair. It is always a relief to me that my obsessive vacuuming (thanks mom) pays off because the amount of dust and cooties is minimal. For a household that has two little asthmatics, that's something to feel good about.

5 - Cleaning the carpets makes me want to remodel the whole house. Repaint, new furniture, new pictures on the walls - everything. It's a refreshing feeling, really. And a bit overwhelming, too.

Okay - that's enough. Most boring post ever.

Sorry.

some brotherly love for your weekend

Icky, icky, ick!

I've mentioned before that we hired a handyman.

To do handy things around the house.

Like install an additional light on the stairs that go to the basement so they aren't so dark.

The boys and I were eating a snack when "Nathan, the handy Manny guy" was doing his thing.

Suddenly and without warning he said, "Whoa, look at this!"

I looked.  And then I shuddered and got wigged out and babbled some incoherent scaredy cat dribble.

There was a mouse in the plug outlet box thing.  A dead mouse.

See

As you can see from the picture it wasn't very big nor was it very decomposed.  Which means that it hasn't been in the house (in the walls?) for too long.  Which means that I might have mice in my house.

Which basically means that I want to move.  We've got no idea how the little vermin got in there, figure that it was probably electrocuted to death, and it was in the plug box that the Chick plays with all the time.

Lovely.

Plague!

I might itch my skin off.

A major holiday with the Griswald's wouldn't be complete without water leaking somewhere!

We had a wonderful Christmas. Thank you sooooooooo much to our wonderful family for sharing such a great and exhausting day with us.

Of course, the person who least likes Christmas, me, was the first one up on Christmas morning. I think that I just wanted to get the show on the road, the day started, and be on our way. The sooner we entered into chaos land, the sooner we'd come home to the mess we created.

Chicker woke up at 8 and the two of us decided it was our duty to wake up the older brother. We did. It took him a minute to figure things out, then we headed to the basement to assess the Christmas delight. Ross and I didn't do a very good job of explaining good old Saint Nick to the kid however because all day long, whenever he was asked, "Did Santa Claus come to your house?" he promptly replied, "Not yet!" with emphasis. However, when asked, "Did you get presents this morning?" he emphatically and frantically replied, "Yes!" and started to list off his pirate booty...most importantly a baseball bat and ball.



We left home and headed to my parents house for a great morning of opening gifts, a delicious breakfast (thanks mom) that left us all stuffed, and then some awesome lounging around. I had a great nap on the floor and didn't even mess up my hair. Thanks for loaning me the spongebob pillow, Willie. By mid afternoon, both of the boys were entering Jekyll/Hyde meltdown modes, but we packed up and trucked over to my grandma's house for even more gifts, food, and merriment.



My grandparents are amazing. They can't walk so good, breathe so good, or hear all that well, among other things, but they are two of the kindest, most generous people I know. My grandma spends half a year shopping for about 53 people comprising about 13 families. Her gifts are always thoughtful, beautiful, and specific to each individual family member. I love my grandparents, and my parents more than I can ever express in words - I cannot even generate the thoughts I need to think up the words. I do know one thing - my grandma has the softest hands I've ever touched and I love it.





The day was a whirlwind of paper and ribbons and bows and toys and laughter and joy. On the ride home we had two sleepy boys that we were hoping would settle in for a long winters nap.

Wrong!

As soon as the car was in the garage, the boys were up and ready for action; toys, hungry hungry hippos and.....

Chicker figured out how to crawl.

On Christmas Day!

He's crawling everywhere and grabbing all his brothers toys. This leads the brother to take the toy away, yell, and then push the baby brother over, for good measure.

And, in our family, what major holiday would be complete with out a little bit of water damage?

After our long day, we were finally home to play - the boys in the basement and me in the family room sorting and organizing and making piles. I carried clothes upstairs and had to use the bathroom. The toilet I selected was a bit low on water, leading me to the conclusion that it was plugged. I flushed for good measure - it was plugged alright - and went downstairs to identify the culprit and order him to fix things promptly.

To make a long story short - the plugging, and the flushing led to overflowing.....lots of overflowing of lots of brown, stinky water. And what does a good toilet over flow on a carpeted floor from a toilet with a crack in it get you?

Why, toilet water leaking through the ceiling in two spots right into your living room, that's what.



And a Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

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Day 3: Miniature food is so cute!

For my Mormon readers (that's all of you, right?) you probably remember the story of me, running into Sister Elaine Dalton at the hair salon and not having a clue who she was.

The day after I was called to be the Young Women Organization's secretary in my ward.

Well, tonight is our "Young Women in Excellence" program and among many things that I was responsible for, one of them was making chocolate mousse as part of the refreshment ensemble.

The presidency and myself decided to go for the miniature route with all our treats.

Because miniatures are cute.

And time consuming to make.

I decided to do chocolate mousse - in little chocolate cups.

The final product turned out well. Not as good as Bakerella would do it, but about as good as Annie-in-a-hurry can do anything these days.

I gave it my best.

It takes a lot of dishes to throw together a chocolate mousse.

See...


It also takes one very large diet coke with lemon from a fast food joint on the way home from the grocery store.





But, once the bowl had been licked clean (not literally of course, these treats are for people other than my family), I ended up with some pretty cute, completely edible and tasty treats on my hands.

BUGS!

In our house, we're afraid of bugs.

Two weeks ago, the Monkey and I were going to get a "bug juice" (Ironic, yes) at the gas station because he sat on the toilet with the lid up and a bare bum (it was a big deal, worthy of a special blue drink). I got said Monkey buckled into the car, walked to my side and got in.

The boy started screaming, begging, pleading to get out of the car.

Why?

There was a gnat flying around my head.

yes.

a gnat.

I rolled down the window and ushered the minuscule flying creature outside, comforted the boy and then we were on our way.

Last week I put this same boy to bed with books and his reading light on. (funny, he reads himself to sleep, isn't it?)

I went downstairs, barely got into the kitchen and bolted back up to find out what the blood curdling scream was about.

Honestly, I thought he'd puked in bed.

Nope.

A fly flew into his room.

Egad!

This morning, we went out to get the mail.

barefoot.

barefoot is always a bit scary.

especially when there are ants.

The first question when i opened the door, "Mama, are there grasshoppers today?"

I said no, equally concerned about those icky creeping things.

We got to the mail box safely, my boys and I, and decided to hang out on the porch for a while.

That's when I saw it.

A katy-did. (no idea how to spell it, sorry).

Internal debate.

Tell the Monkey about the cool leaf bug that won't hurt him like gnats and grasshoppers or pretend it wasn't there.

You don't see katy-dids every day.

I told him.

He thought it was a leaf and didn't believe me that it was a bug.

Then it moved.

oops.

"should we go inside mama?"

panic.

tears.

big tears.

even though the leaf bug was walking away from us in it's cute little scooty gecko type walk, we bolted for the safety of the house.

the long way.

big giant steps around the front door and a leap of faith into the house.

Like I said...

in our house, we're afraid of bugs.

Spring!

shorts....check



sunglasses....check

water....check



bike and bucket....check and check

beautiful flowers....check



happy boy?

YES!

Spring has sprung?

Not sure about you, but I'm swooning with the warm weather and can't wait for it to be an every day thing.

Yes, I know it's supposed to snow this weekend but still.

Spring is on it's way - the flowers and bikes do not lie.

Some people

I know this lady. She lives in the neighborhood that adjoins mine. My husband is friends with her husband through church. Long before I knew who she was married to, I knew who she was. The only time I have participated in a church sport in the last 4 years was 4 years ago. We were new and I thought I ought to give being social a try.

I went to play volleyball and she was there. Laughing, yelling, being dumb. I don't do dumb. During one of the first rally's of the game she kicked the ball. Over the net. Why not right?

Bad form.

I was so enraged that I swore to never play again and her image was ingrained on my brain.

Occasionally, at church functions and while out and about we run into her. She isn't the sharpest crayon in the box. Her husband pretty much has to be in charge of everything I think. She never remembers my name. She never remembers my kids name. When I encounter her, the conversation usually starts with "Hey - I think I'm supposed to know you, right?"

Last week we got lunch at the Chick-fil-a. As we were pulling away from the drive through, she was parking her mini van at a store. Diagonally. Across almost three full spaces.

The other day, the monkey and I went to target for a few essentials like diapers, wipes, and Cadbury mini eggs. At the same time I was trying to get a cart and my boy was darting away from me faster than a cheetah, she walked in.

I got the, "Hey - I think I'm supposed to know you, right?"

I said, "Yes, my husband is...."

Oh yeah - she said. What's your name?

Annie I told her.

Right - that's similar to my name, i should remember that (snort, laugh)
side note: our names are not similar

Yeah, maybe next time I say.

Do you work?

Yes I do.

Wow! How do you do that? I mean, you do it every day?

Yes - I do. I'm busy. Every day.

At this point I start walking away. She keeps talking. Not sure what she's saying but I do the obligatory, "Oh yeah, really" sort of stuff.

We finally escape to go and find our diapers.

he's clicking. why is he clicking?

It's still snowing. It may never stop. We ventured about 10 miles from home earlier today and it took us almost two hours round trip. Good times.

Last night we got home from my grandma's and started to watch a movie. While we were watching the movie, Elliott started clicking while he was talking. He would say something like, "mama, play train" and then "click" his tongue. He's been doing it all day today, too, click. Pretty funny, click.



The snow is nuts, by the way. My wonderful mom, among other things, gave Elliott some snow pants, a coat, and some boots for Christmas. During a break in the snow, Ross took him out to shovel and play.





He lasted about 5 minutes - until he face planted in the snow. Then he was done to try it again another day.

it's that time of year...

There are many a house in my hood right now with their Christmas lights up and on every night. I've tried to take pictures but Ross won't slow down the car...he doesn't want the neighbors to see us mocking.

Even though I'm a scrooge around the holidays I do enjoy gift giving. I like gift receiving too, but as I get older that really just doesn't matter all that much - seeing other people open gifts definitely takes the cake.

My December issue of Real Simple came in the mail the other day. I love the monthly quotes in this magazine (that could be the only reason I subscribe). This month's quote was perfect for me.

A gift is pure when it is given from the heart to the right person at the right time and at the right place, and when we expect nothing in return.
-Bhagavad Gita

Isn't that great - it really helps to put gift giving and the holidays in perspective for me. I always try to give people good gifts - usually with a sentimental twist. Most of my family can usually expect some sort of photo project every year and if I can give something that makes someone cry (like my Dad) then I've definitely hit the gift jackpot.

This year though, I'm really struggling with those great, personal gift ideas. I find myself just wanting to purchase stuff for people, and get the shopping and wrapping out of the way. As it stands now, I already have the majority of my gifts purchased. Yes, I know it isn't even Thanksgiving, but I'm ready for the whole holiday season to be over already.

I think it's a little more than scrooge that's getting to me though. I'm getting old (*gasp*) - I am 30 after all, and in the last few weeks I've been feeling super claustrophobic in my own home. We have too much stuff! Way more stuff than two adults and a little monkey need on a day to day basis.

Today we've started an unofficial purge - one of those days where you start going through every drawer, nook, cranny, and closet to eliminate the clutter and simplify the life. We've made some progress but there's still a long road ahead.

With that in mind - the thought of buying (and even receiving) more stuff is a bit daunting. Ross leaves 99% of the holiday shopping up to me and I've decided that this years theme is minimalism. Sorry to those of you expecting great things from us - we may not deliver and we might buy you food. I told my sister this morning to just give me a homemade coupon book for Christmas full of things she'd be willing to do - like, um, babysit? Seriously, that's all I want. Haley - did you read this? You don't need to buy me anything!

I'm excited however to see how the Monkey responds to the holidays this year. I want to buy cool and neat things for him to see and open on Christmas day in hopes that I can catch that pure joy and excitement on "film". He is such a good boy, and so animated and cuddly that I'm sure his jaw will just drop if Ross and I actually get him one or two of the items we've been thinking of. Nothing out of control - I mean of course every almost 2 year old needs his own ipod, right? But, something that he'll love.

And hopefully the pictures that I take of him on Christmas morning will be worthy of enlargements and frames - and that sentimental memory preserving photo gift I long to give.