GOOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLLL!

I am not a fan of New Years' Resolutions. Come to think of it, I am not a fan of doing anything that I think is either A) expected or B) trendy. Resolutions in the New Year seem to fit into both of these categories. 

But, it's time to buck my idiosyncrasies and embrace betterment. Wouldn'cha say?


May I present to the better public in order to keep me in check and responsible, my goals for 2012.

They might sound very abstract, but they are exactly what I need.


How 'bouts you? Do you make resolutions for the New Year? I fully plan on yelling soccer-style GOOOOOOOAAAAAALLLLL every single time I feel like I've accomplished any part of my own.

a

2011 at a glance

Re-reading my posts of 2011 gives me mixed emotions. I'm either much wittier and cleverer than I give myself credit, or I am incredibly boring and predictable.


Good times.


May I present to you, Ahhnna's 2011 at a glance:

January: The picture of me and Al that my friend thought was another lady with Al.
February: That was a hard month for me. And I wrote about some things I believe.
March: Sometimes Johnny is my favorite.
April: I am NOT a believer.
May: Old boyfriend at Costco
June: The one where I "made" all of my family and old friends call me apostate.
July: Snails giving life lessons.
August: I still want to open it up. Anyone got $50k to share?
September: Blogs and Dodos
October: How do I choose between gold rats and Italy? Okay, Italy it is.
November: Someday these will catch on like wildfire and you can say that you were there.
December: What is keeping me from #5.


Enough of what I think what were my best posts. So, what do you think were my best posts?


I'm kidding.


Any good plans for the big New Year's Eve? Anyone wanna come over to play cards and eat Al's breakfast burritos at midnight?

a

gettin' it off my chest

Some things I need to get off my chest:

• You are a woman. You are a mother. You have decided--for whatever reasons, they are your own--to stay at home and raise your children. Good for you. You are important.
  
• You are a woman. You are a mother. You have decided--for whatever reasons, they are your own--to work outside of the home. Good for you. You are important.
  
• You are a woman. You are not a mother. Good for you. You are important.

“We women have a lot to learn about simplifying our lives. We have to decide what is important and then move along at a pace that is comfortable for us. We have to develop the maturity to stop trying to prove something. We have to learn to be content with what we are.”

― Marjorie Pay Hinckley

a

Hall E. Jaw Lee

We didn't send a Christmas picture this year. Just rad snowmen postcards. But for you, my dearest online friends, there is a picture. As recent as it gets. Hope your Christmas is a grand one for you all!

mwah,
a

What I Wear Wednesday

Would you believe it?


A sight to be seen, for sure. Here it is, nearly 1:30 pm on the Wednesday before Christmas and I sit at my computer with a sweatshirt and fuzzy pants on. Oh yes. Believe it. 


Underneath said fuzzy ensemble is a pair of running pants and a running shirt. Because--see--I was supposed to go running. Seven hours ago. When it was dark and very cold. Would you believe that I was up at 5:30 and thought I could miraculously wake myself up if I fell back asleep at the exact minute I needed to meet my running friend? Because that is what I thought... and it didn't happen.


My friend waited in front of my home for heaven knows how long in the freezing temps while I was all snug in my bed, completely out for the count. Ten minutes later I was up, I'll have you know. Up and frantic, but all together too late.


I hope she keeps me.


I told myself that I would go out in the cold once the sun came out. Would you believe that you can't see if the sun is out while snuggling on a couch in the basement? It's true. Each time I come upstairs and look out the window, I know that the sun is, in fact, somewhere. It's just slightly hidden by all of the clouds and muck. Please make it snow, Santa.


Yes, almost 1:30 on Wednesday afternoon and I am still in the clothes I had worn with the intention of running. I have a feeling it isn't happening today. There is a couch with my name on it and a DVR full of shows I haven't had the chance to delete.

a

I'm tirrrrrrrred.

Why does sitting in a car for an entire day make me so tired? That is one of those mysteries of life, I say. Being physically spent from doing nothing at all.


We are home after a fun-filled weekend in Arizona. Naturally, it was so exciting, that I took hardly any pictures. Even so, I can't seem to find my camera. Oh, dear Mr. Santa!


It's snowing ever-so-slightly and there are last-minute gifts to buy and wrap. Christmas music is mandatory and continuous from here on, as are all movie or television programs to be solely Christmas-themed. We need a little Christmas... right this very minute.


I am getting those nervous nellies right now about the gifts for the kids. Will they like them? Will they be disappointed? Will it seem magical at all? We have had a 3 gift max per child for five years now, and every year at about this time I start thinking that it is a bad choice. Sure, it's enough. They definitely don't NEED any more. BUT...


oh I won't bore you with my gift-giving insecurities. Instead, I will tell you that we will be blowing up about forty red and green balloons to make the tree space look more magical. I'm hoping that does the trick. I know Rhett will love it.


Any ideas? Anything special? Any any?

a

hey girl

What is it with baby girls lately? They are everywhere.


Every. Stinkin'. Where.


I think my ovaries are tired from leaping each time I see a little girl with chubby cheeks and big, round eyes. It's ridiculous.


But, then I remember this:

And I am contented.

a

mawaige

"When a wife has a good husband it is easily seen in her face."

— Goethe

"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person."

— Mignon McLoughlin

"Nowadays it's hip not to be married. I'm not interested in being hip."

— John Lennon

"Horizontal stripes do not a flattering picture take."

—Anna Macfarlane

a

thoughts from an ex-quasi-vegan

It seems that we (the people) are being treated like idiots. Fools, I say. The "green movement" and healthiest of the healthy are telling us not to eat any animal products. The body builders and actors are saying to eat PROTEIN--which they seem to only be able to get out of sweet animal flesh.


Pick a side! Or be the lazy, fatso that you obviously are!

Dear Veganism,

In the last two weeks, I have consumed four hamburgers. FOUR!

What if I told you that I maybe ate two hamburgers in the entire last year? How about if I told you that during these last two weeks, I also ate a french dip sandwich, pork burritos, and a mini hot dog?

People!

For about 14 years, I have toyed around with veganism. In other words, I tried it before it was cool. Because, =I am so cool.= My father, the former cattle rancher, has called me "tree hugger" more than once... a year. It started out with not eating red meat. And then I didn't eat any meat. Then no milk, but I did eat poultry and fish. Then I would throw it all out the window and eat anything and everything.

About twelve years ago, after gaining the newlywed nineteen, I read a book and promptly stopped eating red meat, dairy, and sugar. (This was after trying the Atkins diet for 1.3 days.) I maintained this diet for over a year, and then I got pregnant.

Do you know what happens when you get pregnant? You crave foods, dangit. And all I wanted was hamburgers, ice cream, and Peanut Butter Cap'n Crunch. See you later, controlled diet.

I've read great books supporting veganism--this one is practically the food bible in our house. It is an incredible book based on countless studies, and happens to coincide nicely with my religious views on diet.

Then two years ago I thought that I could control some crazy body malfunctions with diet. So I didn't eat meat, dairy, sugar, or gluten. But then I'd feel all self-loathing and pathetic and I would eat some sugar. If I had to choose one of those four items to eat, sugar should have been last. It wasn't. =Why was I not feeling any better?=

I have a very intense part of my personality. It is what I call the "Feast or Famine" (said in a deep game show announcer voice--try it again). This doesn't just apply to food. Cleaning, crafting, writing, reading, whatever. I'm all in or I'm all out. You can see how this is not good for a long-term "way of life"; or as normal people call it, DIET.

So I roller coaster like the best of 'em. 

I had a boyfriend in college (seriously, again?! oh yes, my friend. any chance I can get) who--when we were discussing food and eating--said that it was not sustainable nor practical to remove an entire food group from your diet (barring severe allergies, obviously). Sure, you would lose weight. For how long, though?

Many times since I've wondered about that statement and I was determined to prove him wrong. It never lasted. Just like our love.

(Oh the college loves. I only bring them up as often as possible to remind myself that I was quite the catch back then. It's a good thing to remember. Yours truly was highly desirable. There was even one young man who desperately tried to convince me to break up with my then-fiance. He [not the old fiance] is now proudly gay. I'm not reading into that one at all.)

So, veganism. Right.

I'm over it. Just like last year when I decided that completely removing dairy was not a long-term ideal. Moderation. I don't drink milk. I like almond milk, coconut milk, even soy milk (for a while I was afraid of getting soy-related cancer). Use them all, I say. Only use cheese when I really want it. 

I still would consider myself a sparing dairy user. But I don't sweat it when there is some. I am now adopting that into my meat regime. If my body says "HAMBURGER", which it did many times last week, I will feed it a hamburger. If it says, "CHILI CHEESE HOT DOG", I will probably get a salad. It's about being smart and enjoying the blessed word
M-O-D-E-R-A-T-I-O-N!

Sugar is obviously of the devil. But removing it completely is also never going to happen.

Finally, I am at my point. Sayonara Veganism. Good luck to all those who wish to partake. For me, I will be grateful for the information I learned from you, like beans and dark greens are the best protein you can get. I will use that often. I will appreciate that animals have rights and to choose wisely those that I eat. I am all for less hormones. I have learned much from my foray into your exclusive club, Veganism, but I think I need to formally bow out. It's just not gonna happen for me. 

Thanks for the memories,

a

Golden Girl!

Maggie turned 10 years old today, on the 10th. 

For her Golden Celebration, we had a fancy tea party with five of her closest friends. They decorated fancy golden hats (with alligator clips to hold into their hair).

(Per my sister's suggestion) I taught the girls Miss Winifred taught the girls all about fancy party manners. Things such as the importance of speaking in an accent, pinky fingers must always be raised, how to dab the corners of your mouth, and appropriate fancy topics of conversation.

Then... hot chocolate on a stick.

Once the hot chocolate was properly melted and tasted, cups were moved over and the lunch service began. Finger sandwiches (cream cheese and cucumber, cranorange rosemary jam, and nutella); brie and crackers; grapes; fine cookies, coconut macaroons.

After an appropriate time for fancy eating, the girls made their own bracelets. Pearls, anyone?

Maggie requested red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting. My running partner and friend just happened to be making some for her sister yesterday and was so kind to make 12 more for Mags. They were a hit!

Presents were then opened and the party was fancifully over.

The girls all got to take home a tea saucer (thrift store) to use as their jewelry holder, along with their hat, bracelet, and golden candy.

Happy Birthday, Margaret. You are our golden girl. We love you tons, chicken buns.

a

randomonium

You know that old man that works as a crossing guard at our school? The one who calls me "lady"? Get this. Today I heard him tell a PYT* to "Have a good one, Beautiful." And sure as today is cold, he said to me RIGHT AFTER, "Have a good day, lady." Now. Don't get me wrong. I don't expect everyone to call me beautiful. It does get tiring after a while--all that incessant talk of my good looks. But it makes the sting of being called "lady" daily slightly more stinging.                  (*PYT: Pretty Young Thing, natch. She's probably only a couple years younger than yours truly, but she works those leggings daily. see random point 4)


Also. When your mother tells you not to go outside with wet hair, she's probably right. Considering it was 20*F outside, I realized I was being slightly thoughtless to walk Ash to school with wet hair. I should have also considered that he walks increasingly slower every degree the temperature drops. At least now I know what an ice helmet would look like.


I'm really torn with the Christmas treats tradition. I want to keep up my annual baklava making. But many of the people I give treats to are not 90 years old NOR Greek. Does anyone even like baklava? (raise your hand and say "me")


Did you hear? I know I am sooo controversial, but have you read the latest gossip to come out of Rexburg, Idaho? Oh boy. I'm not super familiar with BYU-Idaho, but from what I have gathered over the years, they are even more strict about the minutia than BYU in Provo. I know this wasn't a school-sanctioned ban on skinny jeans, but the fact that it happened at all and those imposing it felt any sense of righteousness for doing so makes me cringe a bit. More than a bit, but you know... .


I lost my cool with one of my kids in public last night. At a spiritual moment of a live nativity. I should be more embarrassed. We were all cold, but one child in particular was behaving as though we were cutting off his toes atop Mt. Everest in order to save his legs. I mean, come on. I'm trying to think about the miracle and watch the baby Jesus, so CUT IT OUT or I WILL PINCH YOUR BUNS! The irony has not escaped me.


I'm off to the craft fair that took my creative sanity in the spring. Will you be there, too?


Any random thought to share?

a

shut yo' blog

I just read that a friend I have made through blogging is ending her blog forever.


I totally understand.


(Do I write about this too much? Well, pisha.)


When you blog daily (or almost), there is a pressure to keep it up, keep it fresh, and get some followers. There are blogging royalty who have turned into daily advertisers yet still retain crazy popularity... and that is confusing. There are blog posts that you write that were meant to be discussion starters, but instead only start feuding and bad feelings. That one sucks. There are people that comment daily (hey, Sue! You're awesome!) and make you feel important and there are people who only comment when they want to say something snide... and do it under the ever-notorious "ANONYMOUS". 


I have wanted to end this blog so many times. Out of hurt. Out of frustration. Out of time consumption. Out of lack of perceived popularity. Out of whaddya doing this for, lady? 


But you don't have to guess if I did. Because here we are. There is no big reveal today.


It's a love/hate relationship.

I love YOU if you're still reading. I hate you if you're not. I'm kidding. I should have written that with the = =. I don't hate, I bloggerate. 


So, for all of those fallen bloggers, I say "I understand." For all that still blog, I say, "Power to the People." For me, I say, "Quel que sois." (also known as the ubiquitous whatever)


Blog on, blog on.

a

do unto others, they say

One thing I love about the looky-loo-ability of bloggin' is seeing how other people decorate. 

Ooh, look at her circa 1996 home with purple walls and green vinyl checkerboard floors. Interesting.


She sure likes her granite counter tops, doesn't she?


I never thought of brass being so hip. Nice work, blogger!

You love it, too. Admit it.


Pictures of other peoples' homes are so fascinating. =Someone should really dedicate an entire blog to decorating. Now that is a million-dollar idea.= (oh, yes I did just use the wit equalizers. boo YAH)


If I were to follow that golden rule, I would do likewise unto you.


And I am just narcissistic enough to think that you would want to see my holiday decor. Voila, mes amis!

the snowman lights up at night. Isn't he a dapper ol' chap?

oh, have you already met my tree?

my favorite part. Not because I am so holy, but I love the composition
...and maybe a little holy.

Rhett's lunch and our much-anticipated gingerbread house to decorate tonight!

my awesome wreath made with my own two hands (mostly). per Amy's request.
So, when you come over to bring holiday treats, this wreath will greet you! Merry, indeed.

Share your Christmas decor blog links in the comments. I can't wait to see what you've got going on in your private domain!

a

2 E

Rhett is two!


Happy Birthday, sweet babe of mine.

dressed up in Maggie's dog's cape, holding a nail file. It's a good life.

(Truth be told, he's been two for a few months in my book. Aye yi yi! But today is we celebrate his actual day of birth.)


Oh Rhett-et-touille (2 E), we sure love you and think you're the bees knees, kid.

a

tell me how great I am and hug me, dangit

I just finished reading the Five Love Languages. Have you read it? You should.


All test long, I could not figure out my own love language. Which in some ways tells you that I am a lucky, loved girl. But it also tells you that I am one complicated muddle.


Did you know there is a test at the end? Blasted Kindle! Could have saved me hours!


My love language is


(drum roll)


(this dramatic pause makes this =so much more exciting=, doesn't it?)

Words of Affirmation

followed closely by

Physical Touch

yowzers! Type A, much?


You can take the quiz here. Do it. Tell me what you are!


For the record, Alan is totally

Quality Time

aren't we a cute match? =the cutest=

a