Eat, Drink and be Merry!!

It creeps around the same time every year. You know it's close when someone writing the date on a form shrieks, "I can't believe it's December already!" Yes, you there, writing the date, you should have seen this coming! It's Christmas time!!

I for one, LOVE Christmas. Everything about it... the smell, the tinsel, the candy, the music, the stories, the cold. I want to wrap it up in a big box and cuddle with it every night! Yes, Christmas would be so soft and snuggly. Maybe I'll name my new Pottery Barn throw blanket "Christmas". Sean picked it out, of course, and I will now call it Christmas.

Meet 'Christmas'

As a little girl I would imagine Santa sneaking into my house, trolling around looking for cookies, and watch me as I slept. I made sure to keep the cookies near the tree and wear my best pajamas on Christmas eve. I never understood how the reindeer were so quiet. Surely they would be louder than say, the garbage man? Why did I never wake up? I would go to bed so excited that I would get a peek at Santa. I'd try and stay awake as long as possible in hopes that I wouldn't miss him. Then, BAM. Christmas morning came and that sneaky Santa pulled another fast one on me. I'd rush to the tree and find zillions of presents glittering for my sister and I! I remember how we would paw through them and divide them into 'Marina' and 'Angela' piles. I would silently assess the packages to make sure she didn't get more than me. After all, she was the naughty child.

This time of year always brings up memories, some good and some sad. This will be the fifth Christmas without my dad. I remember the first holiday season without him was dark for me. I tried to put on a happy face but celebrating felt wrong when I missed him so much. A time of joy turned into a time of great sorrow.

This year will be the first Christmas for my little Angel from heaven, Colette. I am overdoing the celebrations this year in honor of her. In fact I am hosting Christmas eve, Christmas morning and Christmas dinner at my house! All so the family can share every moment of her first Christmas. With that, I again can't help but feel sad that my dad can't be with us to see Coco open her presents. I imagine his contagious laugh and sparkling blue eyes filled with joy. My heart breaks that I will never see my dad hold his granddaughter.

The intention of this blog was not to make me cry (which it did) it was to make a point that life is a gift and celebrations are a must! I know my dad wouldn't want us to cancel Christmas and cry. He would want us to celebrate Jesus and remember how blessed we truly are. His presence is still very strong in my heart. I will always remember that love is eternal. This Christmas we will eat, drink and be merry! And in honor of my dad, maybe get a little drunk...

Forever Daddy's Girl

A fresh pair of eyes

Up until six months ago my life was all about me me me. I had to get through school, I had to get that job, I had to buy those jeans, I had to drink that wine. It was a blissful time. I was the happiest person in all the world. I had the man of my dreams, a fulfilling career, and a raging social life full of wining, dining and traveling. I was content, this was the life...

Oh how fun it is to be expecting!

Then one day I was feeling sort of funny. Something was off. "I can't be..........pregnant???????
From that day forward everything changed. My body (duh), my wardrobe and my drinking habits (by that I mean coffee!) It wasn't about me anymore. This person nestled in my belly needed me. She relied on me every day to provide the best possible environment for her to grow big and strong. So I marched over to my employer and requested to be paid double time. After all, there were two of us working at that time! (I'm still waiting for Colette's paycheck)

Is this baby ever going to come out!?

Now that my husband and I are new parents, we have realized that our number one priority in life is to guide our baby onto her own path. We are the source of her childhood memories, as were our own parents. By the way, it's not until you have a child of your own that you can fully appreciate all that your parents went through with you. I'd like to take this moment to thank my mom and dad for wiping my butt in the middle of the night...night after night after night after night. Thanks, I'll take it from here!

Little Colette has a fresh pair of eyes. So every day she experiences something new. The smell of rain has never smelled so sweet until today when I took her in the pouring rain and she held out her hands catching the rain drops. Her squinty smile and silly giggle brought tears to my eyes.

Having her is like re-living my own childhood. I feel like the best part of her entire life is under my control and I can't wait to do it all! Here are some things I remember from my own childhood that I will be making sure Colette gets to experience:

• Go to the pumpkin patch
• Feed the ducks
• Collect tadpoles and attempt to grow them into frogs 
• Build a fort 
• Play hide and seek
• Play hopscotch
• Do cartwheels and handstands
• Hula hoop
• Write in wet cement
• Take in stray animals
• Make a retainer out of a paper clip
• Protest showering
• Finger paint
• Run to the ice cream man
• Say eeeeewww when parents cook fish
• Swim until shriveled
• Sing songs 
• Attend Sunday Mass
• Eat the middle out of Oreos and throw out the cookie
• Bake a Mystery Cake and then throw a tantrum when nobody will eat it
• Put every soda at the fountain in one drink and pretend that it tastes good
• Open a lemonade stand
• Run to the car and tag it first in order to get the front seat
• Steal moms makeup and clothes and lie about it
• Watch fireworks while eating taco bell with daddy  

Little or no money is required to make memories. I remember when my parents bought a new refrigerator, my sister and I turned the box into a spaceship. It was a magical day.

I remind Colette daily that I essentially "grew her"

First Fathers Day

Singing to herself

Mommy leaving for work

Pretending to be a doll

First Mothers Day

When she was a baby baby

My heart and my soul

My Pottery Barn Husband

I'd like to begin with this statement: I love my husband, he is the most amazing man I've ever met and I will never dream of another. He is charming like a snake and sexy as a beast!

Ok, now I can divulge in to his dirty little secret.

When Sean and I were married we moved into an adorable little single bedroom apartment. It was cozy and quaint and offered us just what we needed in order to save for our first house. We had a plan, a very well thought out plan of how our future would map out. We would live small, work hard, and save save save in order to purchase a home in a few years and begin a family. Then a surprise visitor entered our lives. A tiny little bump in my belly that would soon turn into a person. A real live person that required food and shelter. We were now on to plan B: Hurry up and find a house before I become too big to move into it! So after two weeks of looking we found the perfect house, and one month later it was ours! By the time we moved in I was seven months pregnant.

It wasn't long before we began to decorate. And when I say "we" I mean Sean. He showed me a side of him that I had not been given the opportunity to see before. He was suddenly "Bobby Trendy" floating around the house talking about shapes, color schemes, patterns, and knickknacks. He said, "Angela, leave it to me, I have a better eye then you. I've seen how you kept your room at your parents house."

(Bitch!) However, he did have a point. My room still had my high school pompoms and troll dolls on display. So I let him do his his thing. His totally masculine/heterosexual thing.

Suddenly the price of everything was the most important aspect of the whole process. Most husbands would appreciate when his wife buys things on sale or at a discount store, not my husband. When I brought home a beautiful painting from Ross, he said, "Absolutely not. Our home is going to be filled with quality stuff." So I exchanged it for another painting and told him it cost $500. It's now hanging proudly in our loft.

Pottery Barn has become our second home. I think I owe them my first born son (we are still working out the deal). They know my husband by name, and me by the girl who secretly photographs their displays and darts off to Home Goods to replicate them.

To conclude, my house is faaaabulous, and I have my macho man hubby to thank! Love you hunny!!! kiss kiss!

Who would doubt his style?

This is how I decorate

Hi parents! Surprise!

He's got such style

She needs wiggle room!

Make sure you have space for my giant toys!

Let's renovate!

Does this outfit make me look fat?

Gender confusion

Mystical

He's got such flare!

Planet Yoga

Since giving birth to my daughter five months ago, I have been engaged in a struggle to lose the baby weight. During pregnancy, I gained a total of 26 pounds. To my surprise, I only lost seven of those pounds after the birth! That's right, seven!! My baby was 6 lbs 13 oz, so apparently the placenta, amniotic fluid and extra water weight all add up to a whopping 3 ounces. That doesn't seem right you say? Well tell that to my scale! I tried to blame it on the milk but that logic made even less sense. Not even Dolly Parton has 19 pounds in her bra. So I entered a state of denial and decided the weight would fall off by itself. After all, it built up by itself...right???

To my dismay, my plan of doing nothing didn't work. 90 days post birth I was still 12 pounds too heavy. After accusing my doctor of forgetting to deliver my 12 pound placenta, I decided to get off  my big booty and figure out a fitness plan.

I live a hop skip and a jump away from Yoga Works, so I decided to join. My first impression of 'yoga people' is that they are different. They walk different, they talk different, they look different...THEY ARE NOT OF THIS WORLD. They are from a much cleaner, softer, breathier, and calmer place. I liked this place, I liked them. I wanted to acclimate myself to this peaceful environment and fool them into thinking I belonged there too.

So I watched and learned. They speak in a soft and peaceful manner with their eyes half shut and their chests perched out as if to not fully release their breath until the very last moment possible (Oxygen is very rare on their planet). When they walk they have a grand stride, where they minimize the bend in their knees and shrug their shoulders back while delicately floating across the floor. When they stretch they are able to dislocate all joints and even snap their spine in two all while savoring each and every precious breath together in harmony.

This is equivalent to shaking hands

Did I mention the breathing? These aliens looooove to breathe. They inhale very loudly through their nose for an inexplicable amount of time then proceed to moan in a chanting octave for approximately 27.6 minutes until they finally run out of breath. The leader always goes the longest (I believe they call this a hum).

Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I am proud to say that I am now a citizen of the planet Yoga. When I enter the world that is Yoga Works I immediately transform into a native. I suddenly stand taller, I walk with more grace, and I speak in a breathy (yet sexy) tone only known to those like me. My body now positions itself into pretzel like poses and I feel the harshness of the world disappear with each breath I take in. The best part: I am 2 pounds away from my goal! Thank you to my new alien friends! ET phone home!

This is how they sleep

Namaste (/ˈnɑːməsteɪ/nah-məs-tay; Hindi: [nəməsteː] ( listen); Devanagari: नमस्ते; formal: Namaskar/Namaskaram) is a common spokenvalediction or salutation originating from the Indian subcontinent. It is a customary greeting when individuals meet, and a valediction upon their parting. A non-contact form of salutation is traditionally preferred in India and Namaste is the most common form of such a salutation.

Driving makes people mean

I am a woman driver. Why is it that when I make that very statement people assume I am a bad driver? I am in fact a magnificent driver. I haven't had a ticket since I was 19 and I've never had an accident. (Besides the time that my car rolled down a hill then up a curb and crashed itself into a tree. That was not really my fault since I just innocently forgot to set the parking brake)

My husband is a male driver. He likes to pride himself as having mastered the art of driving precision. The other night while we were out and about I realized he was driving a little too erratically for my comfort level. When my imaginary passenger side brakes failed me, I politely requested that he should slow down. He then snapped back with, "Listen woman, I am a trained pilot. I have supreme awareness of my entire surrounding. I could state the make and model of each car on this road and anticipate their next move. You should feel privileged to be driven by me."

My jaw was sitting in my lap. Did I marry a delusional Maverick wannabe? Did our Ford Edge just transform into a fighter Jet? My mind instantly shot back to when we first met and he played Top Gun for me the first time. He knew every line in that movie. Why didn't I see the red flag?

Ready for takeoff

Anyway, we made it safely to our destination, the grocery store. The place where everyday people are pushing around large carts through narrow aisles while looking every direction but forward. Needless to say, lots of little cart crashes and accidental ankle bumps occur during every visit. Yet people (my husband) are so polite after a crash or near crash. "Oh pardon me, haha, I am so clumsy with this thing! Excuse my reach while I grab the fresh milk in back." Then these same silly lovable clumsy people (my husband) pack their cars up with groceries and take off.

He began driving us out of the parking lot and we were suddenly in the Jet again. While waiting  to turn left for what he decided was too long, he slammed the gas pedal and took off. He didn't properly gauge the torque of the Edge and ended up completely cutting off some poor guy. He realized that the guy swerved to get around the stupid car that had just cut him off (us) and then my husband lost his mind. He rolled down his window and proceeded to flip the guy off and yell an obscene comment at him. The guy was so confused yelling back at us trying to simultaneously defend his innocence and cuss us out at the same time. I was baffled. What on earth is wrong with my husband? I called him a looney tune in as many ways possible until we pulled up to our house. He got out, began to unpack the car and looked over at me with puppy eyes, "You know what, I just ruined that guys night for no reason at all. I feel terrible, it was completely my fault."

Conclusion: Driving makes people (my husband) mean

With a face like that, all is forgiven

Til we meet again, Maverick

Lucy is Enciente

I have always felt a strong connection with Lucy Ricardo in the worlds first sitcom 'I Love Lucy'. I remember when I was a little girl I'd wake up at 5 am just to catch the early bird reruns of Lucy before getting ready for school. She captivated me. Here I am 20 years later and I swear I've seen every episode 50 times. I could recite the script of any episode along with the actors. I've thought about getting therapy or maybe a lobectomy to treat me of my impulsive obsession, but then I thought, who would want to live in a world without I Love Lucy? I am an eighty year old woman at heart.

The two most famous episodes of all time are Vitameatavegamin and The Chocolate Factory. Both are great, but they certainly aren't my favorite. I found that the episodes that played up their real life love were the best. What made the series so wonderful was the chemistry those two shared in real life came out on camera as well. When she became pregnant they were both terrified to break the news to the producers fearing they would halt production. Instead they actually wrote the pregnancy into the story line of the season. This allowed us all to experience along with them such a joyous event in their marriage. When she was five months along the best episode in the world was filmed, Lucy is Enciente.

What's interesting is that in those days the word pregnant was not allowed to be said on air. They used the term expecting, and even said, "infanticipating". Heck, they even slept in separate beds! Every script during this time was looked over and approved by a priest, a rabbi and a minister. No that's not a preface to a bad joke!

Lucy is Enciente began with Lucy discovering she was indeed pregnant and had to break the news to Ricky. She tried to tell him in a loving way over a cozy lunch at home, but Ricky was so distracted with stresses at work that she was unable to get the news out. She then decided to go to the club and tell him, only to be put on the spot in front of all of Ricky's band members. He loudly quieted the set stating, "Shhhh shhh everybody quiet down. My wife came all the way here to tell me something, that's the only thing that counts right now! What is it Honey?" She burst into tears and asked, "Do you have the time?" Oh so perfect.

After failing twice to break the big news she decided to surprise him during his show. When Ricky discovered it was Lucy who was expecting, his true emotions came through. He flubbed the words to rock a bye baby and began tearing up during the "Baby Song" he sang to Lucy. The scene was supposed to be both of them laughing and jumping for joy when instead it turned into a touching moment filled with real tears from both of them. I cry every time I watch this episode (and I watched it a million times while I was pregnant) and I secretly mourn their dissolved marriage all over again. I mean how could these two split? They were made for each other! Anyway I digress...

Remembering 911

Every year around this time I get very emotional. Too many people lost their lives as a result of that fateful day 11 years ago. I always think back to where I was when I heard the shattering news. I was a senior in high school and I happened to accidently sleep in that day. When I was finished getting dressed I walked into the living room and saw my dad covering his mouth with his eyes fixed on the TV. I rushed over to see what he was watching and he said, "Something horrible just happened, planes crashed into the Trade Center and the Pentagon." I didn't understand what was going on, all I remember was my heart was beating out of my chest.

I went to school and most of the classes consisted of everyone just watching the news silently. One instructor made a tearful statement at the beginning of his class saying, "I can't imagine how many people just like you and I showed up to work this morning and won't ever be returning home. May God help us on this dark day." We had a period of silence filled with sniffles. Everyone was in complete shock.

My next class was held a bit differently. I'll never forget the arrogant jerk of an instructor who made a statement of his own, "I'm not going to let the current events taking place to interrupt my class. I have a schedule to attend to and today is like no other day." Almost immediately half of the class arose and walked out. He threatened to suspend us, but no one flinched. We were just 17 years old and we felt the pulse of the situation. Our Country had been invaded and attacked. People were STILL suffering and dying that very moment, and he expected us to sit through a humanities lecture. If you ask me he needed a lecture on compassion for humankind. Such an ass wad clown faced troll of a loser. I hope he reads this.

Let today be a day where we honor those who lost their lives or loved ones as a result. Our troops have been brave and strong and we've lost too many from the war that was stirred up soon after. I will say a prayer for my fellow Americans to remain united, despite the drift that an election year always seems to bring. We need to set aside our differences and hold true to the American dream that those bastards tried to shatter 11 years ago. We are the United States, let's remain UNITED!

Now go and kiss your families!

Land of the Free

Home of the Brave