We had six inches of snow fall on us Sunday evening, of course all the schools, and businesses were closed on Monday.There were lines of people at the grocery store stocking up on bread and milk. (I am not sure WHY they choose these two items, I think it may be completely arbitrary.) The top story on all the channels was the "BIG SNOW".
My first reaction is to roll my eyes and start in with the "in Michigan we eat six inches of snow for breakfast" routine. This time however, I just observed the excitement around me. This was not anxiety this was a holiday! Everyone, and I mean everyone went out side. They dusted off the sleds that have been sitting in the basement for who knows how long. There is a snowman in every yard, complete with hats, scarves, and sunglasses. I even saw some teenagers trying to snowboard in the church parking lot across the street. Everyone I talked to told me their snow day story. Even the weather guy on the local news was chirping happily as he reported how many inches had fallen over night. This town lit up with an energy that was just shy of giddy.
Back in Michigan a snow day is torture for adults. The kids are all home and yet we are all expected to come to work unless it is something catastrophic, and by catastrophic I mean you can't open the door to your home because the snow has covered it. So it just means we have to get up an hour early to allow for the slow driving, or take a sick day to be home with the kids. While the kids are happy to stay home, they have seen so much snow that it isn't that exciting to go build ANOTHER snow man. So it ends up just a house full of crabby people who are praying the electricity doesn't go out.
I have to admit, snow days in North Carolina, even though they are ridiculous and completely unnecessary, are definitely fun. I think I may discontinue my winter elitism and just enjoy the snow. I think my southern friends have it right, sometimes you have to take a day off from the normal routine to go outside and play.

...going potty! Well, okay we saw him go INTO the bathroom at the mall, we didn't actually see him doing the deed. As we were waiting for the Family Bathroom, a very rosey cheeked, authentically bearded Santa passed us on his way to the potty. My son saw him and immediately he got a sparkle of awe in his eye and I heard his breathing stop in startled amazement. Then, the most exciting thing happened when Santa peeked around the corner at my kids and said "I'm watching yeeeewwww!" in a very warm effeminate southern drawl. "Did y'all know that Santa has a southern accent?!?", I shouted after him but, alas I was too late and the swinging door with the "MEN" sign on it had closed.

The meeting sparked some interesting conversation with my 3 year old. "Yep buddy, Santa has to potty just like everyone else" and for William it was the highlight of the week. Here I thought knowing the magical man has to pee and poop just the same as us mere mortals would take some of the mystery out of it for Will. To my surprise William is now more enamoured of Mr. Kringle than ever before, in fact while I am typing this he is watching Polar Express again, this is the 5th time this month.

I have spent a fair amount of time thinking about the "magic" of Christmas this year. My husband and I discussed long ago that we would not "do Santa" with our children. The skeptic in me wants to spare my children the disappointment that comes with finding out that magic isn't real, that Santa is just another lie told to us to make us behave. I have spouted these deeply held beliefs to all of my friends. "I am not going to lie to MY children" with an extra helping of elitism. Thus far I have not wavered on that idea either. I find myself trying to bait my son into a conversation about the jolly one, so that I can tell him the "truth" as soon as possible. I am just dying for him to ask me if he is real, but, his faith in the man as not wavered for even one millisecond.

After today, after I saw my son's sheer amazement and wonder, after I saw that look on his face as the most magical moment of his life took place right there in the mall potty, all that conviction I held so tightly too shattered in to tiny sparkly pieces and flittered away like pretty holiday pixies. I think I will allow my children to believe in Santa. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not going to try to make it happen for them by staging a bunch of holiday hoaxes, it just isn't me. I know the day will come, when he notices that Santa shouldn't have a southern accent. He is going to ask me why the stories don't all make sense, and how can he make it around the world in one night. When that time comes, I will be honest. But for now, if my son chooses to believe in the magic of Christmas and all of it's wonder, who am I to destroy that.

I am so thankful to my children, for bringing that tiny bit of magic back to me. I now understand why all the parents I know choose to make that magic as real as they can. Charles Dickens would be happy to know that a tiny bit of my bah humbugery has been chipped away. Deep down I kind of believe it too. Who knew that today's potty trip would change me, but there it is, a bonafide Christmas miracle.

As we are approaching the holidays and the end of another year I find myself contemplating what it is I have learned this year. Here are a list of just a few of this year's lessons:

• Raw chicken does NOT blend up well in the blender.
• Blenders can catch on fire.
  
• Partially blended up raw chicken also doesn't blend up well in a smoothie maker.
• I will NEVER be fired from my job.
• My family is the most important thing in the universe.
• Global warming has it's up-side
• You can NOT make powdered sugar by putting granulated sugar in a coffee grinder.
• You can't always determine someone's gender from the sound of their voice on the phone.
• Kids really love repetition.
• Even things you used to enjoy SUCK after watching them too many times. (Nemo, I wish to bid thee farewell)
  
• I enjoy cooking, even after that whole chicken/blender incident, who knew?
• I love being a mom more than any occupation I have ever had.
• A monthly "Mom's Night Out" for me is required for good mothering.
  
• There are really some quality people out there if you look hard.
• Yo Gabba Gabba is an acquired taste.
  
• Anyone really CAN be president, and I can't help but cry a little every time I think about it.
• I will probably always have this kind of yucky stretch marked gut lump hanging off me, and secretly I am kind of proud of it.
  
• A glass of wine can really help with stress, sometimes two glasses.
  
• Don't bite your friends!
  
• While financial security is nice, it is not essential for happiness.
• I still adore the holidays.
• Those last ten pounds are a BITCH!
  
• I am not who I thought I was, and I am cool with it.
• Everything in moderation... I wish I could remember this lesson for next year.
  
• You really can replace your car with a bike for most weekly errands, even with two kids in tow.
• Relationships are hard.... but worth it.
• Poop stories still are and always will be FUNNY!
  
• Hope has returned to my soul, and for that, I am exceedingly thankful.

Yesterday, while I was in the shower, I had a great inspiration for a light and funny, and slightly inspirational blog. But today, I can't remember it even a little. I am pretty sure it involved poop, that is as far as I can get.

Alright, I have stayed away from Palin bashing in my blog, but after watching the debate last night, I have to ask this question:

CAN ANYONE TELL ME HOW BEING THE MOTHER TO A BABY WITH DOWN SYNDROME MAKES ONE AN EXPERT ON AUTISIM???? Hmmmmm??? Anyone??? I'll bet it is the same way you are an expert in foreign policy because russian planes MIGHT fly over your house.

You know, I am pretty experienced as well. I mean, I grew up pretty darn close to Canada, in fact I am sure I smelled some Canandian garbage driving past the many landfills in Michigan. Seriously, I should run! I went to public school, that makes me an expert on EDUCATION!! Sweet, you know what else? I successfully balance my family budget, CRAP! I am an authority on budgets! I purchase and use manufactured items all the time! I can fix our slumping factories, and create jobs, you betcha! I have done a fair amount of camping, so I am pretty sure that qualifies me as an expert on the environment! Seriously, I have seen more than one bear in REAL LIFE! Beat that Joe Biden! I could also tap into my folksy Michigan vernacular. Wholy waaa! get me in the whitehouse NOW! The only thing I am missing is the degree in journalisim. Maybe if I get started now, in four years I can run. My only worry is that I MIGHT not be quite cute enough...

Alright y'all, I am sure you are aware that y'all in Michigan is "you guys" and we call soda, pop, and that rather than going to the store on Tuesday, we go to da store ahn Tuesdee. However, I feel I should explain something to my southern pals about sarcasm. Here in the south, I have had to learn some amazing new lessons about a whole different kind of passive aggression, and subtlety. Where I am from, we are definitely NOT subtle, not nearly as politically correct, and we are TOTALLY sarcastic. Let me give you some examples:

In Michigan when you sing in public, you can expect people to tell you that you really should get singing lessons and next time why don't you bring ear plugs for the audience. This means you were really awesome. If you have recently lost weight, be sure that people will tell you that you are getting fat, or maybe you are turning into a skeleton. When you have a baby, your family will say something like "too bad he's so ugly, how can you stand it!" or "that is one cute baby, you sure you're the daddy?" This is all very good. It means you have a seriously cute baby!

When you really want to beware is when someone says anything is "nice" or "fine". "Nice job" means "she really didn't do well but I don't have the heart to tell her". Notice when people use the word precious as well. "Oh that baby is so precious" translated means "ugly but loved". Or, if people don't understand you they might tell you that you are "precious" meaning "odd". The exception is if the word really is added to any positive compliment. "No, really, your baby really is beautiful" thus clarifying that your baby is so beautiful they have to say it outright and they want you to know they aren't just being nice. If this happens you can be sure, you have one extraordinary baby.

In Michigan teasing is an art form, and in my family being picked on is a good thing. The more people pick on you the more they like you. We laugh at each other, and at ourselves, and generally nothing is off limits among family and friends, including race, gender, and religion. Nicknames are a way of life, and teasing is something you are taught when you learn to talk. Unfortunately for my new friends, I am the queen of teasing, I am well practiced and very good at it.

When I first moved here someone told me that my baby was beautiful and she looked just like me. I think I said something like: "yeah it's too bad poor kid , were were thinking of taking her back for a prettier one". The looks I got for that one, wooo! They looked at me like my head was sprouting octopus limbs. I could see the thought bubbles popping out of thier brains "WHY would she say THAT?, What a HORRIBLE thing to SAY!". Ooops, it was then that I was truly worried I might never fit in here.

Although I have learned how to restrain my natural tenancies a bit, I thought it might be nice for y'all to understand a little about why sometimes I may seem a tad strange. Why sometimes, I am just not subtle at all. So please forgive me if I have chosen you to pick on today, and realize that if I am picking on you, you must be pretty special to me.

I woke up this morning thinking of you. I wonder what you look like now, how have your facial features developed, in my mind you will always be that chubby cheeked baby that I adored so much. I imagine you are in preschool this year, or maybe your mom is homeschooling you. I'll bet pink is your favorite color, maybe it's purple. I wonder what your favorite toy is, and what is your favorite song to sing when you are being pushed on the swings.

As I thought about you this morning, as I do on many mornings, I realized just how many mothers you have out there, waking, thinking of you, loving you from unknown places, in silent sorrow. You will know about your biological mother, the amazing woman who let you go so that you may have a better life. Maybe you will also know about the beautiful woman who raised you until you were nearly a year old, knowing she would have to give you up. I am the woman who prayed for you before you were born, who fell in love with you the moment I first saw your picture and who loves you even still. Me, you will probably never know about. I found myself wondering just how many women, wake up in the morning, loving you. You must be one pretty special kid.

It is my honor to love you, I will always hold you close in my heart. My hope is that just maybe, when life is hard for you, you will feel that stranger love, that motherly love from all those mysterious women who wake up thinking of you, and it will sustain you when you need it most. Be well my almost daughter, love abundantly.

I just found out that there was a drive by shooting directly in front of my old house in Michigan. Someone drove by when the elementary and high school kids were walking home from school and just fired into the crowd of children , killing one boy instantly.

I can't stop crying...I am so glad we don't live there, and I guess the bank can have that house. I am grieving for Michigan, and for a once thriving, healthy diverse neighborhood. I have a sinking feeling that things are going to get much worse before they get better.

http://www.mlive.com/grpress/news/index.ssf/2008/09/16yearold_creston_student_kill.html

When I opened the door for the Pizza Guy this evening, he looked directly at my chest and exclaimed "OH THANK GOD!" You can imagine that I was shocked. To have this young dorky pizza guy take one look at my breasts and thank his maker just sort of shocked me speechless, so I just smiled and grabbed for the pizza... As I was nervously looking for a pen to sign the receipt he told me very animatedly "I just had to deliver pizza to the GOP headquarters the other day and I left feeling all dirty!!" Then he did a little shiver dance and wiped off his arms, as if he were shaking the cooties off. I started to think maybe this young man was challenged in some way, when suddenly I remembered that I wore my Obama t-shirt today, and he must be an Obama supporter! AHHHHHHH! It is all clear to me now!

I wonder what he thought as he saw this strange housewife, who smiled, nodded, and acted like maybe she didn't speak English and then, when the realization kicked in, started laughing really hard. He maybe was thinking I was a bit challenged as well.

This wasn't the first time I have had someone either look at my chest or point at it and make some remark that totally baffled me for a few minutes. I guess the danger of wearing a politically charged message across your breasts is that people suddenly find them interesting, and worthy of discussion...

I walk out of my basement the other evening to take my dog out, and I almost walk face first into this HUGE spider web complete with a big fat creepy spider smack dab in the middle. This is the kind of spider web you only see on Scooby Doo in the old abandoned amusement park, or an Indiana Jones movies right before the heroes step on a booby trap. As soon as I made eyes contact (8 big creepy eyes) I jumped out of my skin a little, then I whipped around and put my face into yet ANOTHER spider at face height of about the same girth hanging between the adjacent poles. I totally went all Shaggy, and did that Casey Kasem "WHAAAAA" sound. I think my legs even went around in a blurry circle as I skedaddled out of there!