Even My Dogs Smell Like Christmas (but for all the wrong reasons)

I've compiled a list I've found vaguely interesting and very personally informative as I've been preparing for the holiday season. Perhaps you, too, will be intrigued. (Perhaps instead you will be alarmed. I understand completely. If you find you are more disturbed than amused, you should totally find a more relaxing blog with a more sensible writer.)

• We have 8 bins for Halloween decorations, but only 3 for Christmas decorations.
• One of those Halloween bins is labeled "GRAVEYARD" and is an enormous bin on a high shelf so I can't really access it. I'm just saying there may be an actual graveyard in my storage room and I have no way of knowing for sure. Ce la vie.
• One of those Christmas bins is so ridiculously enormous that I usually just grab the items I need and carry those upstairs individually. Did not get that memo to my husband, who hauled the giant bin upstairs and said "whatever is in that bin needs to be separated into two smaller, lighter bins" as he huffed and puffed and grabbed his back. His look of incredulity when I announced there are actual bricks in that bin (cute preschool-painted Christmas bricks) was totally worth the price of admission.
• At least one of our dogs has upgraded from treating the Christmas tree water as vitamin water and gulping it down with wild abandon to actually nibbling on the tree. We assume to freshen his breath. Or maybe for extra protein. We will be keeping the candy canes high up on the tree per the usual this year. Because what the world does not need this holiday season is two naughty Corgis jacked up on sugar.
• Speaking of naughty Corgis, remember that cute frame my niece procured as a cute little hostess gift (actually a "thanks for getting us a place at the beach" gift) back in the summer? She visited again in October and brought the above photographed fabulously-pine-scented soy candle, which if memory serves she procured at the Memphis Farmer's Market. She totally gets MVP in the gift-giving category, because it smells divine.
• I once bumped into Morris Day of Morris Day and the Time at a church. I was reminded of this when thumbing through old preschool Christmas program pictures of the girls. Yep, they went to preschool with Morris's child. And no, I did not go up to him and sing "Ohweeohweeoh!"  while performing the accompanying dance moves, though it was encouraged by one of my dearest friends from college. We were in church, people. It didn't seem appropriate, though it was wildly tempting. (Watch a video of Morris performing Jungle Love here, but serious dancing does not commence until the 3:30 mark.)
• When in need of a tacky Christmas sweater, I would totally rather sew lights onto an old sweater than go to Goodwill to purchase a tacky Christmas sweater. And did so. Evidence below.

XO --


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Fudge, Fudge, Call the Judge

There are a handful of things in life that make me want to self-harm, but two stand out: massive group texts in which nearly all the responses are pointless ("way to go!" and "see you there!" and the like) and baking.

To be clear, there are some group texts in which I relish every single reply. These are mostly amongst my family members and/or college friends. They usually start out innocently enough, then within the fourth text or so devolve to a level that makes me thankful none of us plan to seek political office. I may or may not one day post excerpts of them here.

But anywho, back to the baking. I prefer to cook in a very slap-dash sort of way. Which means I look at a recipe once, get the ingredients, and wing it from there. Forever. I can't tell you the last time I looked at any of my standard recipes. And the meals usually turn out just dandy, if I do say so myself.

It isn't so with baking. It's just so precise with all the "1 cup brown sugar packed" and "mix the dry ingredients first" and "whisk to the left 74 times then to the right 67 times, with one swirl to the left every ninth turn of the slotted spoon." Frankly, it's irritating. Which, combined with my lack of sweet tooth, is why if you turn up at my house for dinner you should plan to bring your own dessert.

The one exception to this rule of "We Don't Bake Here" is fudge. Which isn't exactly baking per se, but since it's sweet I categorize it as such. I found a recipe some years back that is both incredibly easy AND I can remember off the top of my head AND my children can make it themselves which makes it the PERFECT DESSERT AND HOLIDAY TREAT. At least for us.

So yesterday while my children slaved over the stove, I busied myself making these little labels so we could deliver treats to their friends yesterday. (Well, we only made it to half of them because we ran out of a key ingredient, so we will be continuing to deliver over the next several days.)

So, the kids get to sugar up both themselves and their friends, while Mom gets to pretend to be a graphic designer while listening to the Elvis Christmas album, then we all pile into the car together to spread a little Christmas cheer.

Win-win, and .... win.

XOXO---

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It's Beginning to Feel a Lot Less Like Summer

Up until a few days ago, it has been 75 degrees daily in Atlanta. I'm not complaining. I like warmer weather much better than cold. However, I have to agree with my daughter  --- it is a little teeny bit difficult to get into the Christmas spirit when you could slap on some oil and get a nice tan (not that I would dream of such a thing. It would only serve to further line the pockets of my dermatologist, who delights at carving me up every time I visit her office while she yaps about sun damage and the 80s.)

Please come along as I outline a few tactics we are currently utilizing to expedite that Christmas feeling as we usher in slightly cooler temps:

First, we bust out a lovely pine-scented candle to supplement the delightful scent of our live tree. This Thymes Frasier Fir candle is a favorite.


We start lining our kitchen window with the lovely holiday cards we begin receiving in early December. (Alert: if you are one of my dear friends who sends their card wicked early, I refuse on principal to display them until after Dec. 1.)



These guys start terrorizing the household. Speaking of, I have plans for the people who started this elf craze. Said plans will land me on Santa's naughty list, but I'm willing to take the hit for all of us. That's how dedicated I am.


These start blooming. I must say, the holly bushes of my youth were of the sticker variety and would result in multiple puncture wounds should you try to pluck one of the poisonous berries. There are no violent stickers on this bush, so maybe it isn't holly at all. Whatever. Looks Christmasy to me.


Each member of my household will consume a minimum of 5 candy canes a day. Mostly because of convenience as this arrangement sits on a table at the bottom of the stairs.


We find a way to collect ornaments that might otherwise be heading to the great ornament playground in the sky, as a direct result of a serious crash.


Because honestly, it wouldn't be Christmas if our tree didn't hit the deck every couple of years.


The dogs have requested that I state, for the record, they were crated when this incident took place, and thus cannot be held in any way responsible. They wouldn't want their improved behavior to be confused with last year's, um, embarrassing situation. 

Tell me: what does your family do to get in the holiday spirit?