Three Years

Dear Hubby,

Three years ago today, I married you. Thanks for giving me the best three years of my life thus far. Your commitment to me and our son motivates and encourages me to strive for the greatest things in life.

Thanks for giving my life meaning. Thanks for loving me. Thanks for being a great husband, father, and friend.

Annie

Grocery Shopping

Normally, I do all the grocery shopping for the house. Mike and I have learned that I am faster at the grocery store than he is. That's fine with him.

The last two weeks, however, he's been helping.

I wrote up last week's list for him. It looke something like this:

• Gallon of milk
• Carrots
• Crystal Light
• Confectioner's sugar

I read it to him and when I got to the sugar part, he asked me exactly what it was. I told him it was powdered sugar and showed him the nearly empty bag we had. He nodded, but I wasn't sure he remember.

I decided to revise the list. When I finished, it looked more like this:

• Gallon of milk - 1% or 2%, whichever has the farthest expiration date
• Baby carrots
• Crystal Light - iced tea
• Confectioner's sugar - looks like blow

Off he went to the store. When he returned, he posted the list on the fridge. I asked why and he said he appreciated my comments and they were extremely helpful. His favorite was my description of the powedered sugar.

Hey, at least he got it right. :)

Cotton Anniversary

Nothing's changed in a year. Well, except that maybe I love him more.

Read more here and here.

Happy Anniversary, Mikey!

Mike

Since he's away on business, I got to feeling nostalgic. Please forgive the cheesiness.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

And they say romance is dead?

Last night, I was watching Grey's Anatomy when Mike came in the living room. I presumed he was in there to make fun of me.

He was, of course.

The taunting began: Oh, look at McDreamy. He's so handsome!

I glared at him.

Then it got better: I compare to those guys on that show, you know. Just call me... McSweaty.

Ahhhhh, my romantic husband.

The Draft

Has it already been a year since the last draft?

It's going to be a long season, folks. 162 games per team.

At least I don't have to pick the players this year.

This Friday, I Got a Fever... and the only prescription is more cowbell

This week has been busy and full of stress. And that's only because of the weather. I shouldn't complain, as I know that other areas had far worse weather than we had in Jersey, but still, this was my reality for a week, and it seems like it will continue into the weekend.

Currently, my car is parked over a sheet of ice. It's not that we were lazy and didn't shovel it, it's that it was shoveled, then it rained ice over it and it's so compacted and frozen that it won't budge. Luckily, the car is a 4x4, so there is no sliding when I park it. The roads are relatively clean, but the rements of this snow/ice storm have started to look drappy. Very dirty and grey. And even though NJ isn't the most beautiful state, it now looks dreary and deathly.

Valentine's Day was good. I'm not really a Valentine's Day kind of gal - I prefer something simple to a huge bouquet of red roses delivered to my office. I think it stems from years of terrible Valentine's Day that were full of expectations and letdowns (I could go into the many stories, but I'm trying to be upbeat here - although... one year I made shrimp parmesan for a 'friend' - I slaved over it, cooked it perfectly, and then the 'friend' asked if we could go to the all you can eat buffet. ALL. YOU. CAN. EAT. BUFFET. I've never made shrimp parmesan since...).

Anyway, back to the upbeatness... VDay was good. No complaints. Just love. Cheesey love. That's me - a cheese whiz.

The weekend doesn't hold any exciting plans for me. Maybe a visit to the in-laws, some housecleaning, some shopping. Nothing strenuous or taxing.

Maybe I'll sleep in tomorrow. And Sunday too. *That* would be the life for me (See? The little things make me happy. The little things, people!).

And next week, I'll be looking forward to going to sunny Miami for a long weekend. Ahhh, sunshine....

For now, I leave you with this piece of funniness that never fails to crack me up...

Long Awaited Night

Yes, folks, the day has finally arrived: it's time! Check out this article on the Mighty Gators.

Who'll be watching? I hope I make it through the entire game - I'm still sick with a cold and have spent the last few nights allegedly coughing in Mike's face (that's his claim. whatever).

Update from Friday's post: Mike has claimed Mr. Bento. He took it this morning, leaving me to my old lunchbag. It's not the same as My Lov-ah. Not one bit.

Mele Kalikimaka is the Thing to Say

Mike and I have been having a 'discussion' the past few evenings about whether or not we should have presents under the tree before Christmas Day. I say yes; he says no.

My reasons:

1. We don't have any kids that will see the presents under the tree before Christmas.
2. We have to pack them all up on Christmas Day to deliver them to the family.
3. I want to take a freakin' picture of the tree with all the presents underneath it.

His reasons:

1. Santa doesn't come until Christmas Day.
2. He's stubborn.

What do you, faithful readers, do? Do you put the presents under the tree as you wrap them (the way it should be done)? Or do you keep them sitting on top of the guest bed all wrapped up and occupying space until Christmas Day (like stubborn men like to do)?

Please leave your preference in the comments section.

This afternoon, my office closes until the new year. I'm not sure how often I will be posting while on vacation, as I plan to go to as many movies as possible next week. I also have a zillion errands to run (one of them is getting my license renewed, which means a long long line at the DMV).

And so, I wanted to wish everyone a great holiday. As the Hawaiians say, 'Mele Kalikimaka!' May you, your families, and all those near and dear to you be blessed with joy, love, and health in 2007.

The Trip

Yes, I survived the 2006 trip to Buffalo.

No, it wasn't horrible. It was actually nice and I had a lot of fun.

Unbeknownst to me, the first stop of the trip was not Buffalo. It was Niagara Falls. I loved being there, having not seen the falls since I was a little kid. Mike had never seen them, so it was great to share that with him.

Luckily, the weather in Ontario, Canada, was ideal. It wasn't cold, so we spent Saturday afternoon walking around the falls and taking in the 'tourist' attractions of the area.

Sunday, we drove into Buffalo, to tailgate and enjoy the game. About an hour before kick-off, however, it began to rain. Large, cold drops of rain fell on us for the entire game.

So, no snow, but plenty of rain.

I can't believe I am even writing this now: I would do it again next year if asked.

Ugh. Mike has turned me into a monster. An awful sports watching, couch warming sports fan.

As an aside, I must wish Mike a happy 38th birthday. Yes, I married an older man. He got lucky when he married a baby like me. Ha!

Leaving... on a bus trip?

I have embraced the fact that I am spending the weekend before Christmas in Buffalo. I have even embraced the fact that the reason I am going to Buffalo is to see a football game.

However, as of last night, I had not embraced the fact that Mike wants to leave tonight for Wilkes Barre, Pennsylvania, to meet up with friends before meeting the bus that will take us to Buffalo tomorrow morning.

Mike assured me that he would do whatever needed to be done so that I felt alright in leaving the house tonight.

And thus, this morning I created the 'Honey Do It Now List'.

This is what I left for him on the kitchen counter this morning:

1. Laundry - finish the last load, pseudo fold it, and put it all away
2. Sweep entire house (start at the top and make your way down the stairs)
3. Go to post office and mail Christmas presents to Florida and Massachusetts
4. Dishes!
5. Buy your wife diamonds

I felt better knowing that he was taking care of these things. And not one bit guilty and demanding all of it be done by the time I got home from work.

I didn't even feel guilty about number 5 on my list.

Against my wishes, I am going to Buffalo

It appears I will be going to Buffalo this weekend, no ifs ands or buts.

I shouldn't complain because it's a great opportunity to spend a weekend with Mike, just hanging out without a care in the world.

But all I can think about is the laundry that needs to get done, the Christmas presents that need to be wrapped, the floor that needs to be mopped, and the bathroom that needs to be cleaned.

I don't know why I worry about all of this, it's not like I am having guests over or anything like that. I'm not even hosting Christmas at my house. So why do I worry?

Your guess is as good as mine, but I am going to bet my anxiousness about my house is somehow related to being Cuban.

If I can't figure it out, blame it on the Cuban-ness.

One of Santa's Elves Threw Up in My House

Mike and I spent the entire weekend getting ready for Christmas. I told him, the King of Procrastination, if the tree didn't go up this weekend, not to bother putting it up.

So yesterday, up it went. A million lights and about a thousand red ornament balls later , the tree stands. It's quite lovely.

Then, I hung the stocking by the couch with care (sorry, we have no chimney). And added more lights to the railing that overlooks to my living room.

I set up the Nativity scene, which according to my mother (via telephone) is the most important thing of all. At first, Mike tried to set it up, but he couldn't get Joseph to look at the Baby Jesus just right, so I had to take over. He had the nerve to call me a temperamental artist. What nerve!

I even set up an old Nativity set from my single days in the kitchen. And more lights.

I have so many lights and not even places to put them!

All that and I'm still not in the spirit.

I think I need to rewatch A Charlie Brown Christmas.

Oh yes, and it appears I may have to join Mike on a trip to Buffalo this weekend, but that's another post. For now, I'll just say:

I do not want to go to Buffalo.

Mornings at My House

Every morning, Mike and I have a similar conversation -

Me: Gross. Get away from me. Your breath stinks.

Him: What do you think yours is like? Roses?

This morning, however, it was a little different -

Him: Gross. Your breath smells like a sewer.

Me: That's not very nice.

Him: Okay, fine. It stinks like a sewer. In Disney World.

Ahhhh, romance.

Scenes from Thanksgiving Dinner

OMG - two posts in one day! But I couldn't resist, since I got these pictures from my sis-in-law.

Here, in no particular order favorites, scenes from a Very Diverse Thanksgiving...

My Dad and my faithful Indian companion, Patel

Baby Tommy, great nephew and godson

Dinner among family and friends in my living room. See me in the purple? My profile is 20 pounds lighter!

The Irish side: Mikey, ma-in-law, sis-in-law, and bro-in-law from Flah-rida.

Now, where is my mother? She's sitting next to me, to my right. But shortly after, she got up and made her way into the kitchen. You know why? Probably to wash a dirty pot. Or to invent a makeshift mop with an old broom and towel.

Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving is really my favorite holiday. I suppose I could thank my father for this, since he has always been an advocate for the United States and thanking the country that did so many things to enhance his life.

I love Thanksgiving because it's a holiday where families get together, eat all day long, watch tv, gossip, fight, and eat some more.

This year, I have taken the task of hosting Thanksgiving at my house. I hope I don't let anyone down with my lack of knowledge on Thanksgiving hosting, or any type of hosting, for that matter. But do know that I'm trying my best.

Since I have offered to host Thanksgiving, it's something I have been thinking about for many weeks now (menu planning, distributing jobs, buying groceries). But I have also been thinking about the things I am most thankful for in my life.

I don't know if I am going to be able to post this on the actual day of Thanksgiving, since my parents are arriving tonight and the rest of the week is full of activities.

And so, I present some things I am thankful for:

• My husband - before him, I really didn't know how happy I could really be. In all it's cheesiness, he is a great addition to my life. And I really don't know how I would function in this world without him.
• My family, both blood and in-law - despite the craziness of both sets of families, I am grateful that I have them. My side: for teaching me values, for giving me everything they never had, for allowing me to be independent, for supporting me, and for sticking by me always (or, eventually coming around) whenever I made decisions that they didn't necessarily agree with. My in-laws: for accepting me as one of their own, for learning with me, and for making me feel the warmth of family when my own is miles away.
• My good friends - for sticking by me through the best and worst. It's a blessing to have friends that will drop everything if you need them. It's also a blessing to have friends that you can drop everything if they need you.

I could be thankful for the material things in my life: my car, house, clothes, etc, but that's not really what this is about, is it?

Happy Thanksgiving to all - I hope you find things in your life that you are thankful for.

Dreams

Last weekend, I had a dream that I flew to California for a conference and Luke Perry picked me up at the airport! Yes, that's right. Luke. Perry. Sideburns and all.

It was a really strange dream because I no longer have a crush of Luke Perry (yes, I was totally and madly in love with him when I was a sophomore in high school, because, hello? he was Dylan McKay on 90210 and really, what was he doing with Brenda, when he could totally have me?). But in my dream, I was really happy that he picked me up and we were friendly.

And then Luke asked me to go with him to a time share presentation in Palm Springs. What could I say? Of course!

But in my dream, I was married. To my sweaty snowape husband in real life. But I did call him, told him Luke had picked me up, I was safe and we were going to a time share presentation.

I think in my dream (at least, I'm hoping) my hubby was jealous.

When I woke up, I was all giddy and happy. I told Mike about the dream. He wasn't too impressed.

What's up with that?

If he told me he dreamt about him and Elle McPherson going to a time share presentation, I would at least pretend to be happy for him.

Well, after I called her a perfect, dirty, and disgusting wench.

My Ultimately Favorite Superhero

Mike, 1971

Making Lists

I know that everyone does it: those lists.

I keep a list for everything. I have a work list. A grocery list. A wish list. A 'to do' list. I even have a packing list.

The packing list. There's a reason behind this, seriously.

Anyone that knows me understands that I do not like messes. I hate piles of stuff on my counter tops and on the bed and dressers. I have to put the laundry away. I have to put *all* the groceries away. Basically, if there isn't a spot for it in my house, I don't want it.

Simple enough, right?

Nah, it could never be that easy.

Mike is the complete opposite. He can leave a stack of clothes on top of his dresser for weeks without it bothering him. He will take a shirt one day, a shirt another day, and before you know it, his stack is gone and he hasn't opened a dresser drawer in a week or two. On the other hand, if I see that, my skin automatically starts to itch and I *must* put the stuff away.

When it comes to packing, Mike will throw stuff in a corner or on top of an extra bed and then pack it in a bag the night before we are due to leave. I can't do that. It's is physically impossible for me to do that.

So I make a packing list. It looks something like this:

• three bathing suits
• four pairs of socks
• five pairs of shorts
• five t-shirts
• two button down shirts
• two pairs of capris
• two pairs of flip flops
• purple sneakers
• shampoo/conditioner
• deodorant
• toothpaste
• camera
• camera charger
• extra memory card for camera
• aspirin/tylenol/motrin

and so on.

This method has worked for me for years. I've never forgotten anything. Except batteries once. :)

So, today, I start my list for Hawaii.

But first I have to check off stuff from my work list. Tee hee hee.

Yes, I'm sick I tell ya. But don't you (my three faithful readers) have a quirk that identifies you?

Chatter During the Day

He calls me at work to tell me he's home from the grocery (nevermind the fourteen phone calls beforehand, asking me what kind of Tampax is the right one).

Him: I'm home from the grocery store.

Me: Did you get everything on the list I left for you?

Him: All of it.

Me: Are you sure? How much did you spend? Did you use all the coupons I left for you?

Him: I dunno. But I bought a chicken.

I can hear him chomping away. Immediately, I am worried that he's bought perishable items and they are sitting on the counter, growing all kinds of bacteria, as he stands there - yes, stands there - eating a supermarket chicken right out of the container.

Me: You bought a whole chicken?

Him (in his Otis voice, from Superman): It's a little bitty thing. A little bitty chicken.

Me: Okay, enjoy it.

I am clearly defeated in the training of the husband.

Then, out of the blue, he shouts out: Pollito!

Not only can I not train my husband, he makes fun of me constantly.