Mall Elves

Christmas can make you do funny things when you're a parent. No other time during the year will people drive to the mall, put their beloved children on a stranger's lap and take a picture of their kiddos with a man who hasn't shaved since 1975 and wears his red, fuzzy pajamas all day.  Parents love to see the reactions of their kids when they meet Santa and Troy and I were no exception. We knew we had to document Zachary's first Christmas with a trip to see ole' St. Nick. We decided to wait until we went home to Chicago and take him to Orland Square Mall where we had gone as kids to see Santa. We dressed him up all cute, bundled him up against the cold and headed to the retail mecca of my hometown. We looked on the lower level  of the mall where Santa had always been in years past but we couldn't find him. Troy thought we should look upstairs and lo and behold, there he was in all his wonder. I was relieved because by this point, I am sweating up a storm since I was wearing my Ugg boots, my winter coat, I was holding a 6 month old who was as equally bundled up and then hoofing it all over the mall. I breathed a sigh of relief as I commented that the line was short. We would be able to get in and get out and then go grab some lunch. That's when I had my movie moment.

Remember in the movie The Christmas Story, when Ralphie and his brother go and visit Santa and the "little helpers" are anything but helpful? They grab kids by their arms, shove them on Santa and then heave them down the slide. Or how about in the movie Elf when Zoey Deschanel's character acts like Ben Stein in a green mini dress? Look, I understand that these mall jobs are not exactly what these people probably had in mind for their lives. I don't know of anyone who dreams of being a mall elf. I am sure they are just trying to pick up some odd jobs to pay for school or rent, but can't they be a little more cheerful? While this may not be their dream job, they are interacting with children who are excited to see Santa.

My movie moment was somewhat similar to what I have described although this mall Santa didn't push Zachary down a slide with his boot. After seeing the short line and mentioning to Troy my great relief while pitting out from heat exhaustion, Santa's little helper turned to me. With a pimply straight face and a monotone voice she said, "Actually this is the last family that Santa is going to see right now. In 15 minutes he is going to take an hour break to go feed his reindeer."

She actually said that to us.

I was so hot and hungry and Zachary's window of opportunity was quickly closing. If we waited an hour and 15 minutes for Santa to "feed his reindeer" we would have a meltdown on our hands, and Zachary would probably pitch a fit too. So, we opted to come back the following day, Christmas Eve.

After thinking about the mall elf, I figured there were two ways I could have approached this young woman. My first thought was to ask her to talk to me like an adult and just tell me that Santa was going to go out by the Sears entrance and have his ciggy break and hit of whiskey off his flask. The second option was suggested by our friend Tim, who said I should have played along and gotten really excited about the reindeer and asked if I could help feed them. Oh man, how I loved that idea. I wish I had the guts to do that. There is no way I could get through that without laughing, but if I could it would have been glorious.

As it turned out, we did get pictures with Santa. We thought Zachary would cry because he is going through an I-only-want-my-mommy-and-daddy phase, but he was so mesmerized by Kris Kringle's beard that it turned out great. He eventually smiled for the camera and Troy and I were suckered into buying the cheapest photo package they had - which we accidentally left at my parents house. Then 30 seconds after we got Zachary off Santa's lap, he spit up all down his outfit.

So, all in all, it would say it was a big success even with the grumpy mall elves.

Call Me, Maybe

I was just a kid the first time I saw a cell phone. My dad got one of those Zack Morris brick phones and my sister and I got such a kick out of it. When we would go out with my dad, we would look for reasons to be able to call our mom or a friend just so we could use the phone. I don't know how he did it, but my dad was able to stick that brick phone in his back pocket and walk around like a boss. It was so cool. 

By the time I got my first cell phone, I was way behind my peers. When I graduated college in 2005, I was one of two seniors who did not have a cell phone. I begged my parents to let me get a phone. I can still see my dad's face as he would give me a half smile and tell me that I could have a phone whenever I wanted . . . as long as I paid for the phone myself. Well, you know what? I did. My first little Motorola flip phone was fabulous and I was proud to write the first check for my phone bill. I soon graduated to another flip phone, but this one was pink! I always felt so cool, pulling my little cell phone out my purse and texting my BF or my BFFs.

Then the day came when I put my childish ways behind me and became a grown up cell phone user. The day I got my Smartphone. Troy and I did a ton of research to try and decide which phone to get. First we had to figure out which team we wanted to be on: Team Apple or Team Android. This was a toughie and seemingly very controversial depending on who we talked to. The iPhones were so cool and trendy, but we decided that we weren't really Apple people. We have personal frustrations with the one button. So, we set our eyes on the new Droid Bionic that much to our frustration, kept pushing pack the release date. Finally, it was available in Verizon stores. Troy was super sneaky about getting one too. He took my flip phone (my last one was purple) out of my purse in the morning. I didn't even realize it until I got to work and worried about where it was. (I never lose things.) I came home and told him I couldn't find my phone and that was when he presented me with my brand new, Droid Bionic. The sky opened up and the angels sang and played their harps as he handed the new technology to me.

I couldn't believe all the things I could do with my Droid Bionic. The whole world was at my fingertips. There would be so many times when I would think about something while I was out and think about how I wanted to remember to look that up when I got home - and then I realized I could look it up any time I wanted!! I always had a GPS with me. (Which is good because I am directionally challenged.) I could Google to my heart's content. (Who doesn't love to learn?!) I could be instantly notified when someone would Facebook me. (Thanks for 'liking' my status!!) I remember thinking that I have the most advanced phone, of course it was only a matter of time before my phone became obsolete in it's technology, but for a very short amount of time, my phone was the king.

Fast forward two years to today. I still have that Droid Bionic but she has aged and isn't as wry as she used to be. The old girl gets tired and freezes mid-thought. Sometimes she has a hard time remembering how to write out and send text messages. There are many times during the week when she just gives up and shuts down. Poor girl. Unfortunately, I my first thought at her many malfunctions is not that she has been faithful these past two years; rather I wonder if it will damage my walls if I throw her across the room. I get so frustrated that I can't .... wait for it .... search the world wide web, text or Facebook. (GASP!) Whatever did the pioneers do?! (Hashtag, First world problems; yep I just wrote out the word 'hashtag.') Last night the old girl freaked on me again and so I decided to take a break from her.

Like most people today, I may have become too dependent on technology. I am after all, writing a blog on a laptop, I'm not chiseling all this out of stone, but I do like to take the occasional break from technology. After watching Live with Kelly and Michael in the morning (I just love them!), the TV stays off until the evening. When my phone chimes to tell me that I have a message, I am probably one of the few people that doesn't freak out and rush to see what's going on. (I think this sometimes drives Troy crazy because then curiosity takes over and he needs to see what my phone wants me to know.) While it is unreasonable to say that we should remove all technology, maybe my old Droid is teaching me a valuable lesson, chill it out. So, I will head to the old girl's advice....until I upgrade, then all bets are off.

Lay Off, I'm Starving!

I am no Victoria Secret model, but if you were to look at me, I don't think your first thought would be, "That chick likes her food." However, if you were to say that, you would be right. I have always been a big fan of eating. I've never really been a picky eater (though I do have some texture issues - that's for another blog.) My mom tells me that when my sister and I were younger, if we were misbehaving, all she would have to do was threaten to send us to bed without any dinner. We (and by that I mean, mostly me) would dramatically beg for her to reconsider! Go to bed without dinner?! How cruel!! She never did do that, probably because her trick worked and we straighten up our act. 

As I have gotten older and more aware of what I consume, I am conscience of my eating habits. And since having Zachary I have had a few realizations on these eating habits, and friends, they are not pretty.

1. Drop the fry and nobody gets hurt. I like to share. In my mind, if you share then you really get twice the fun. I liked sharing my toys when I was a kid because then my sister Laura and I had twice the playthings. I like sharing meals with Troy because then we get twice as many foods to taste. I liked sharing clothes with roommates because my wardrobe was twice as big. There is one thing I have a really hard time sharing....french fries. French fries are one of my favorite foods. I know they are terrible for you, but I don't care. I love them. The worst is when you go out to eat with someone and you sit down and look at your glorious spread of golden fried potatoes and your meal-mate says, "I didn't order any fries because I thought I could have some of yours." In my head, I hear the buzzer from a basketball game and think about how I can politely tell that person to get his/her grubby hands away from my pile of fried goodness. I usually can't think of a good way to say it, so I turn into a prison inmate, hunched over my meal, consuming the best part (the fries) first. I'm not proud of this, but it's true. Look, if you want to preserve the meal and our relationship, order your own fries.

2. Get it while it's hot! I used to eat like a lady. I would cut my food in small bits, using the right utensils and sitting up straight. My main focus of meal time was to be graceful and enjoy the food. Now my main focus is getting something in my belly. Eating hot meals, while being the mama of a baby don't happen often. I am convinced that babies know when you are comfortable, hungry or have to go to the bathroom and that is the time they pitch a fit. So, when I can squeeze these things in, I do so and I do it in a hurry. I realized after having Zachary, I scarf down food like I am in a zombie apocalypse. We hosted Troy's family for Thanksgiving and we went out to dinner the Friday after. Zachary was doing great - until the food came. Troy's sister, Tricia snuggled with him so I could eat, but he was still crabby. I tried to eat quickly so that I could take him. I didn't notice how fast I was eating until I made eye contact with my mother-in-law who looked at me with big eyes and told me to slow down. I think she had started prepping herself to perform the Heimlich Maneuver on me. I realized I must look like I was challenging myself to a game of Chubby Bunny. (For those of you who don't know the game Chubby Bunny, you have to keep putting large marshmallows in your mouth and still be able to say the words "chubby bunny." If any marshmallows come out, you can't say the phrase, or you puke, you lose. Sweet game, huh?) Even when I am not with Zachary, and I am eating, I realize I eat like I am in a hot dog competition. I have to remind myself to slow down. So, if we go out to eat, I am truly sorry that you have to watch me. I am hoping that some day, graceful Pam comes back. Until then, I should probably not go out in public.

3. Vacancies Available. During the last few months of my pregnancy, I was hungry all the time because I could only eat small meals. My stomach was all squished thanks to Baby Carlson so not much could fit in there at once. Since Zachary's birth, because I am nursing, I am hungry 24/7 and normal sized meals feel like a snack. I think since he was born (on May 30), I have only felt full maybe three or four times. I feel like Mrs. Pac Man, but there are never enough dots to eat. What's a girl gotta do to get a bunch of bananas whilst running from the colored ghosts?! I have been drinking a lot of water and chewing a lot of gum to fool my stomach, but I don't think it's working. You know what would work? A large fry. Mmmm fries.

I could write another clever paragraph to wrap things up but I think this video would be the best closure for this post. I really don't need to write another word.

Wrap it up

Last weekend we went to Zachary's first birthday party. Our neighbor's little girl turned one and we were excited to celebrate with her. We went out and bought her a gift and though it would have been easier for me to throw it in a gift bag and call it a day, I took the time to wrap the Mr. Bubble bath crayons. (Umm, can I take a minute to talk about these bath crayons? It's my blog, so the answer is yes. They looked awesome and I totally can't wait until Z is older and he can play with them. I guarantee bath time will be longer because Zachary's mommy will be playing with his toys.) Now, this little girl probably got a lot of help from her parents and older brother when it came time to open her presents, she was only turning one after all. So, I know that perhaps wrapping the gift may have been more time consuming, but as a general rule, I always wrap gifts to kids.

I remember when I was younger and still had birthday parties, the best presents were the ones that were wrapped. You could always tell by the packaging if you were getting a Barbie, a board game (hopefully Mouse Trap or Operation!) or a VHS of a Disney movie, but I loved it. I loved the bows and ribbons that were on the gift - I always saved the really pretty ribbons. I loved the different wrapping paper patterns, especially the shiny ones or the ones that had the little fuzzies on them. And of course, I loved ripping the heck out of them and exposing my gift. The best ones were the oddly shaped boxes. They always had you wondering what could possibly be inside and those were generally the ones I picked first to unwrap. I would of course have some presents that were in bags, but they weren't much of a thrill for me. You pull out the two sheets of tissue paper (colored, if you're lucky) that hide the goods and you're done. No anticipation, no guessing, no fun.

Baby Hank - not a fan **

So I was surprised when we went to the party and people kept coming in the door with gifts for this little girl in bags. I would silently think to myself - "fail." I think now would be a great time to mention that Zachary has not opened any gifts yet so I am not sure how a baby actually does opening gifts. My friend, Ashley's son did not seem too thrilled about his wrapped presents at Christmas last year, so these "Bag People" may be on to something with the wee little babes; however, I continued to secretly judge the lazy wrapping of my fellow party goers because I am clearly an expert if you read between the lines of this post.

Even as a grown up, I will be honest and say I love presents. Personally, it truly is the thought that counts for me. In my mind I think it is sweet that you were thinking about me at a random moment and thought I might like whatever treasure you found. I don't think it's wrong to like getting presents either, especially because of my reasoning for liking gifts. That being said, while I would be elated to find a little gift bag with my name on the tag, I still love wrapped gifts. I still love the oddly shaped wrapped gifts. I still love the the patterned wrapping paper, yes the shiny and fuzzy ones are still my favorite (though now that I am buying them, they are also the more expensive ones). I still love the bows and save the really pretty ones. And I still love to rip them open to see my spoils. Hopefully Baby Hank will this Christmas too.

** Thank you Ashley Schwartz for letting me use this picture of baby Hank. It is hilarious and adorable at the same time!