Baby, it's (Not) Cold Outside*

In fact, this is the forecast for today.

But, since one member of our family is considering relocating to a place where February looks like this**:

It seemed appropriate to turn on the oven and roast veggies for soup.

Of course, even the snowiest days are always better with a little California sunshine thrown in.

My Funny Valentine

He makes me smile with my heart.

The hands down best version of this song, ever.  Dare you to listen and not get goosebumps.

Every single day.

Best Buds

Ever since my son left elementary school, he and his friends from those days have had an annual tradition of gathering at our house on Superbowl Sunday.  In the early years, the parents came and hung out, too.  We'd be in the kitchen catching up, and the kids would be piled onto couches down the hall. Later on, the boys would be dropped off, clutching a two liter bottle of Sprite and a bag of Doritos to contribute.  They'd cheer and yell at the game and the commercials, run out every once in a a while to refill their bowl from the snack table, play a massive game of touch football at halftime, and generally have a total ball.

Some of the crew, in 5th grade.

At first, the boys were still seeing each other fairly frequently despite being spread out over the city at different middle schools, but as time went on, this became the one day each year that everyone would get together.  Despite each and every one of them towering over me, with their deep voices and facial hair, come February, it was like no time had passed at all for me, or for them.

Six years later

Knowing that almost all of them are now seniors, and will soon be scattering even father apart, I assumed this year's event would be even more of a memorable reunion.   I began pestering my son for details.

Me:  So, have you sent out the invite for your Superbowl party yet?  

Him:  No.

Me:  Oh. OK.  Well, we've been invited somewhere else but I said no.  I was thinking of making you guys some homemade soft pretzels, since everyone loved the pretzel dogs so much that time.  Do you think we should bring back the cookie dough dip, too?  And the wings?  They plowed through the wings last year.

Him:  Um...

Me:  I can't believe this'll be the last one. Wow. 

Him:  Can we talk about this later?

Later:

Me:  OK, what is going on?

Him:  Mom, my friends are all mostly 18 now.  They want to go to parties where they can drink and watch the game, and I don't want them doing that here.  So, let's just skip it, OK?

Me: [Dying a little inside] Oh. Right. Got it.

[Pause]

Good choice, good choice.

So, when I was hanging out with the parents in the kitchen at someone else's house, and the beer commercials came on, I got choked up and more than a little teary as the lyrics played:

'Cause you only need the light when it's burning low

Only miss the sun when it starts to snow

Only know you love her when you let her go

Only know you've been high when you're feeling low

Only hate the road when you're missing home

Only know you love her when you let her go

Not because of the adorable puppy crawling through the fence*, but because of how the brand behind those gloriously maned horses, and all of its brethren, impacted what were supposed to be lifelong friendships.

Best Buds, indeed.

In The Doghouse - Now Updated with a Happy Ending!!!!

Way back in January, 2011...

I called my dear friend a few days after Christmas to connect and swap family holiday stories. I told her what had happened when the kids tried to bring Christmas to my mom. Then she told me about a horrible client who made the days running up to and through the holiday a complete nightmare for her. We had a nice round of hearty commiseration and denigration of the misbehaving clients/mothers. Then I told her about the surprise present from my husband and kids that just blew me away, and how happy that had made me after everything that had been going on this year. There was a moment of silence on her end, and then:

Her: Well, that makes what I got even funnier.
Me: Oh no. No! What? He did get you something, right? Tell me he didn't forget to get you something for Christmas.
Her: Oh, he got me something alright.
Me: Well?
Her: He got me a jump rope.
Me: A what?
Her: A jump rope.
Me: Are you kidding me?
Her: I am not kidding you. A jump rope.
Me: [Stunned into silence by this]
Her: It's not just bad in general. It's specifically bad. I mean, you've had kids. I've had kids. I've had HIS KIDS! And I get a jump rope. Really? REALLY?!! There is NO WAY I can jump rope. If I even hop for a second I start to pee uncontrollably. It's just how our bodies work now, right? And he KNOWS THIS because he was in the car when I was crying like a baby after a particularly unfortunate aerobics class. He drove me home. Soaked in my own urine and CRY-ING!
Me: And yet he gave you...a jump rope.
Her: Yep.
Me: Oh, man.
Her: Oh, don't worry. I'm going downstairs right now to tell him all about your gift.   ALL about it.    That guy is never getting out of the doghouse.  EVER!

Fast forward to January 2014...

My friend has just launched an awesome company for women fitness fiends and now loves her jumprope. And the marriage was saved.  Learn more at JustGoGirl!

A simple request

We went a little nuts with the baking for this year's Holiday Open House, even more so than usual.

Mini pecan tarts.  Chocolate Chip Cookies with Sea Salt.  Peanut Butter Fudge Bars.  Mocha Cupcakes with Peppermint Chocolate Buttercream Frosting*.  Lemon Icebox Squares. 

Apple Molasses Cookies**.  Crispy Chocolate Truffle Shortbread Bars.  Mom's Christmas Cut-Out Cookies with homemade icings.  Butterscotch Cherry Granola Cookies with Lemon Drizzle.  

Thumbprint Cookies with Fig Butter.  Apricot Rosemary Cocktail Cookies.  Two different kinds of challah. And my sister's famous Cream Cheese Pound Cake.

My husband was appalled.

Him: Why do you do this to yourself? I think the ovens have been on for a week straight.  I'm begging you, please, for Christmas Day: keep it simple.

Done***.

These still involve the oven****, but are about as uncomplicated as you can get.  

Here's to a notably simpler new year all around.  

Miracle on Libbit Avenue

In the days leading up to Christmas, the volume of visits from representatives of the United States Postal Service* goes way up everywhere, not just in New York City courtrooms.



Thanks to the Post Office, and my wonderful cousin Janet, we had a little miracle on Libbit Avenue this year.

A lost recipe from Mom. Not just any recipe, but one that tastes exactly like Christmas.

Turned out, I had everything I needed in the cupboard**.  I doubled the recipe, diligently following her handwritten notes on the back***.  As the bars were baking, the house began filling with the unmistakable scent of warm cinnamon and spice.  Now thoroughly in the mood to tackle a task I'd been putting off for far too long, I finally pulled the holiday boxes out of the garage to start decorating.

And there she was.

Almost like the cane left in the doorway at the end of my favorite Christmas movie of all time.  I honestly didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I did both.

I hope your holiday was full of warm, spicy, heartstring-tugging miracles, too.

The Charlie Browniest Time of Year - Part II (with Brownies!)

Yep. Walmart and Target were open on Thanksgiving Day this year.  I just read an article about a Toys 'R Us store in Times Square that is going to stay open for 586 hours straight so people can buy toys every single minute from now until Christmas. I cannot click anywhere on the web without running into glossy, adjective-laden gift guides featuring the "must have" items for each and every person I have ever had even a passing acquaintance with. Amazon wants me to know they deliver on Sundays, and that time is running out.   Fortunately, I'm going to be saving Big Bucks, thanks to all the one-day sales, 4 hour sales, lightning deals and first-come-first-served, once in a lifetime bargains out there.

It's literally insane, this frenzy.  It's like nobody even pays attention to old Christmas specials anymore.



In the spirit of the Whos, and in case you are panicking a little and don't live near that Toys 'R Us in Manhattan, I thought I'd share some alternative ideas for Christmas giving.  I've been on both ends of all of these on one Christmas morning or another, and love them.*

1.  Treat to something they'd normally do for themselves.  Call the place down the street where Mom escapes for a manicure, does yoga, or gets her hair done, and arrange to chip in for the next one.  If your daughter stops at Starbucks every day on the way home from school, pick up the tab for the week.  Fill a tank with gas and get your teenager's car washed.  You get the idea.  It shows you notice, and want to take one little thing off their list.  My sister does this for me, and now I do it for her.  I literally feel like a fairy godmother, and it's so easy.

2.  Spring for tickets. It's like magic, seeing someone open a stocking or a box and finding seats to a concert, a play, a basketball game, or even a pair of movie tickets and popcorn money.  You are giving not only the actual experience, but the anticipation of the event, and the planning and the hoping and the talking about it after and all those photos on Instagram.  Plus, tickets take up zero space in anyone's room, and you don't have to take them to Goodwill a few months later.

3. Take them away.  Book a room in town and whisk your spouse away for the night.  Send your son on a flight to see Grandpa, or your daughter to see a friend that moved to a new city.  Wrap up a travel poster from a vacation spot you have in mind for Spring Break and put it under the tree.   Sign up for a scavenger hunt or walking tour around town as a family.  You might wind up with a little souvenir clutter afterward, but its a small price to pay for that break in routine.

4. Classes.  Find one that will kindle an interest, or feed a passion. There are baking classes, wine-tasting evenings, photography workshops, guitar lessons, trapeze instruction, beer-making, cheese-making, getting scuba certified, surfing camp, improv lessons, Drivers Ed (yikes!)...it's kind of incredible how many options there are.  The trick is not to imply that the classes are actually needed:  e.g. "Your pot roasts suck, so I'm getting you cooking lessons."  Tread carefully.

5.  Upgrade something worn or replace something lost.  Find a jacket just like one that was lost and sorely missed.  Get new running shoes so the ones with the lopsided heel can be retired, a wallet to replace the one that is fraying around the edges, or a favorite pair of jeans in the next size for a kid who is sprouting like a weed.   Can be as small as keychain or as large as, say, a Sub Zero refrigerator. Hint. Hint.

Above all, use the person you are buying for as the gift guide, not some magazine or website**.  You know what will make them happy.  Put a whimsical colored spatula in a chef's stocking. Get a jersey from a favorite sports star, or frame a picture they made in school and hang it up. Pick up the next book in a favorite series, or the missing quarter from their 50 state collection.  Send a funny e-card. Donate a rabbit in their name. Take a girlfriend out to lunch, buy her a glass of wine and just listen for an hour.  It might be the most perfect gift they've ever received, and it might not. But they'll love it anyway, because you took the time to think about them, and it shows.



If you do want some kind of insurance policy though, you might want to make them these brownies.