Tag Archives: mom

Our McChristmas Fight 2009

It was epic.

The McChristmas (Tree) fight of 2009.

A battle of traditions. And a quirky couple who had to merge two very different traditions. Specifically ornament traditions.

You don’t mess with me when it comes to ornaments.

<—- just look at those beady red eyes. I’m holding last year’s ornament.

THE ornament given to me by my mother each year.

Thematically gifted for each year that passes.

See? That ornament has a picture of the Country Club Plaza on it. Which is where I moved after my divorce. (Because I had always wanted to live near there. And because I could. And why wouldn’t I?)

Isn’t my mom clever? (Truth be told: she had to regift that ornament from her own tree because she looked high and low for a Plaza ornament but couldn’t find one. But STILL. It’s the tradition that counts.)

Every year. I own an ornament symbolizing every year of my life since seventh grade.

The moose playing volleyball? Eighth grade. Only I didn’t play volleyball. I um, didn’t quite make the team. But I was the manager and that is a VERY important roll….

Backpack? No, not Kindergarten. It was my senior year in high school. (Because every high school senior caries a backpack with a bear and a pencil in it.)

Corvette with gifts? I think even my mom will admit that one was a stretch. But it was meant to symbolize 2000. The year I graduated from college and struck out on my own as a reporter in Rocky Mount, NC.

But let’s not be selfish here. It’s not like my mom won’t give one to the fiance each year. This is the tradition that keeps giving.

And so, I had visions of our first Christmas tree. Decked with white lights (the only acceptable lighting in my opinion) and the lot of my sentimental ornaments.

It would be so sweet. And as the years passed, we would add to it with the ornaments collected together.

My vision was brought to a screeching halt.

Someone else had an ornament tradition. 10 years ago, a young 20 year-old bachelor decided he would enlist his buddies to help him deck out his Christmas tree.  So he did what he did best: he threw a party.

And invited all of his friends to bring him an ornament for his tree.

Oh, they brought ornaments. Every year. (hmmm….notice anything familiar?)   Some more “appropriate” than others. Most very funny and light-hearted in nature. Many hand-made, including the beloved McRib ornament. Crafted so cleverly from several boxes of the elusive McRib.

It was time to set a date for the 10th annual ornament party and we had a big problem.

How could we put my sweet little moose playing volleyball on the same tree with McRib boxes? These two traditions just weren’t going to work. We needed a solution.

Him: Well, why don’t we pick from the best of my ornaments and then put yours on too?

Me: OR, we could have a special tree for the “adult” ornaments and then have a family ornament tree?

Oh, that didn’t go over well at all.

He heard: Your ornaments are crap and need to be separated.

And so the fight began. Somehow, I missed his first offer to compromise. (I’m a little silly about listening at times.)

All I could think of was how could we manage years and years of both traditions? And what about when we have kids? Some of his ornaments might not be child-friendly. And I wanted to be sure there was room (in our lives) on the tree for children.

He persisted.

I persisted.

He threw up his hands and said we’d cancel the party.

But that’s not what I wanted. I just wanted a compromise (remember, I didn’t quite catch that first offer.)

Tears were shed.

I told him not to cry.

I’m just kidding. It was me.

And finally, in a moment of clarity, I suggested that we take the best of his ornaments and all of mine (because there are many more of his than mine.) And he laughed because it’s exactly what he had suggested in the first place.

And I ate a little crow, but it’s ok.

Because we figured out how to merge two very different traditions. And, at the same time, offering a hard-core challenge to our friends (because mine are invited too.) May the best ornaments win a permanent place on our tree.

So bring on the McRibs this year. I’ll be happy to place the best of the best right next to my little moose.

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Advice from my Mama

So mom and I got in a tiff this weekend.

I was sick.

And I swear to goodness that my parents were convinced that I had the Pig Flu. (Seriously, I should have sent them to Erin’s Pandemic Party in D.C.!)

To their credit, I was being a little overdramatic on Saturday when I called from the boyfriend’s couch. I’m not going to lie. I was kind of hoping my patheticness would get me out of having to bring a side dish. I was also hopped up on all sorts of cold remedies and stuffing my face with a large box of Whoppers (my magic pills.)

What I wasn’t expecting was a text telling me and my Pig Flu to stay away from the family gathering on Sunday. (Ok, she didn’t say “my Pig Flu.”) She added the moms would be ok with me not coming.

The moms?

The moms would be ok if I didn’t come?!!

That seemed a little one-sided to me. What if I wanted to come??

I was not a happy camper. And I made it very clear when I called the next day to wish her a happy Mother’s Day and ohbytheway, I’m going to the boyfriend’s parents’ home because they weren’t afraid of my itty bitty little cold. (Notice how this went from I’m sick and unable to move from the boyfriend’s couch to having an itty bitty cold?)

Yeah, that didn’t go over so well.

And besides, I may have pushed it a little too much on Sunday because I felt awful again on Sunday night.

We’ve worked it out. Mom says it wasn’t fair for her to text me not to come and that we should have had a conversation about it on Sunday when I could better gauge how I was feeling. I know I was being a brat by rubbing in my attendance at family functions elsewhere.

And we both agreed my dad is the true hypochondriac in this situation. (It’s always nice when Dad can be the scapegoat.)

Since my parents are moving to Philadelphia in the very near future (Dad is already commuting there during the weeks), I figure there shouldn’t be any pigsI mean elephants in the room.

So even though I do enjoy a movie theater-sized box of Whoppers, my mama always told me to tell the truth.  (I’m at the bottom. Thanks Jenny for the shout-out! You make me sound far more fashion forward than I ever was. 🙂 )

What I didn’t share with Jenny for her blog was the fact that my mom taught me to tell the truth and value the truth. It took me nearly six years of marriage to connect my mom’s teachings with my  own life, but in the end, the truth really did set me free. And that’s no Whopper! Thanks, Mom. I love you!

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It’s a hard pill to swallow

074 One day you wake up and you realize that your 31 year-old daughter is posing as Wonder Woman at a local comic book store. And you wonder where you went wrong.

But  you show up anyway. Because maybe it’s not what you think.

But it is.

And so much more (skin is showing.)

So you smile and take the picture. But an intervention is being planned…

(Thanks for coming, Mom! Happy early Mother’s Day! I know I make you so proud!)

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my mom has a blog!

Welcome to the blogosphere, Mom!!

This would also be a good time to thank both of my parents for being so supportive.

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Inspired

I had the priveledge of proctoring a test Saturday morning for 6th graders applying for this program. I’m not a teacher, so the opportunity to be in the classroom and administering a test was all new. I had a classroom of 20 kids from KC, MO. The kids were a little groggy when they first came in. But by the third test, we had all warmed up to one another. At the end of the testing, I had a chance to visit with some of them. So inspiring! They were so cute — asking me questions, telling me about their hobbies and interests (soccer, video games, basketball, dancing…) And they thought I was a teacher – a compliment!!! I wish them all the best. The scholarship program is an amazing opportunity for these kids.

In other news, capped off a perfect Saturday in true urban girl style (took a cab and everything!!) attending this show. So awesome. Not only did she sing Easy Street (from ANNIE), but James Taylor to boot!! Popular and Love Song also had me grinning from ear to ear.

Today was Mother’s Day. I found THE perfect card for my mom circa 2008. “When the going gets tough. The tough call their mommies.”

Spaghetti (my mom’s specialty) and apple pie (grandma’s specialty) at my parents’ house and I brought Gertie, my grandma and her dog. It was a circus. Surprisingly, my parents handled it in stride. I’m wondering why both moms had to cook…

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