Monday, December 17, 2007

The Party

On Saturday night we attended Erik's office Christmas party. Just getting ready for the event was enough to convince me I am most definitely going to be sick all Saturday nights next December, so I will regretfully be unable to attend the joyful Christmas party of 2008. I am not one to normally worry about what to wear, but I was on Saturday. This was our first Christmas party with these people and actually the first time I had met any of them.
I asked Erik a couple of weeks ago what I would need to wear. He asked around and the women said in the past they had worn dresses some years and other years just dress pants and a nice sweater. So it was decided I would wear my dress pants and sweater. The closer the event got the more I worried about whether my attire would be nice enough. I mean Erik was going to wear his suit, the event was at a country club. So I, of course, was freaked out by Friday. I purchased a nice button up shirt that was a little extra dressy I thought. I didn't try it on because Matthew was SO ready to go. So I try it on that afternoon in the comfort of my own home and it is so very cute, so I am absolutely delighted. Only one small problem, it was a little snug in one area which would have been fine for one night, but once washed and worn it would look like those buttons were about to burst (not the look I am generally going for). That night Erik gets home from work and I show him my purchase and he doesn't think it is dressy enough. So after dinner and getting the little one off to bed I venture back out into the sea of Christmas shoppers to see if I can find anything to wear. I thought this would be a simple chore. Boy, was I wrong! I went to the big mall instead of the closer small mall. I generally remember mall layouts and what is where after visiting a mall one or two times, but this mall has the craziest set up, I have been there several times and still cannot figure the place out. That, of course, means I did numerous laps around the two story shopping area. I found NOTHING. I thought the mall closed at 10 (I later found out it was 11, can you believe it) so at 9:45 I gave up and ran into the store where I had bought the shirt earlier and got a bigger size. Yes, I know it was still the one Erik didn't think was dressy enough, but I was just relieved to be going home.
The next day Mom and I had a Christmas bazaar all day where we took Creative Memories stuff to sell, so I didn't get a chance to try on my new attire together. I decided to wear the nice sweater I had originally planned for the party to the bazaar all day. As I am about to step out the door for the bazaar Erik says "Are you sure you don't want to wear that sweater tonight, it looks good". Is there anyway I would change what I was wearing at that point? No way! So I go to the bazaar and come home, get Matthew something to eat. I wanted to give Matthew a bath too before we left, so I took him upstairs. Of course, he needed to go to the bathroom. His potty seat was downstairs so I decided to just sit him on the potty without it rather than run downstairs. I have done this numerous times before but of course this day of all days, he sends pee shooting all over the bathroom and on me. I just laughed because I was wearing the sweater and some jeans-- no problem it's not like I was going to be wearing that to the party! As our departing time is drawing near I get dressed and find the new shirt looks goofy and is too big. Mom let me borrow some other things, so I am not completely panicked until I try them on and they all look awful on me. So 30 minutes later I am walking out the door in (drum roll please) the original dress pants and sweater. That's right, I shopped and worried for hours only to attend the all important party in the old dress pants and the pee sweater that I had worn all day.

Monday, December 3, 2007

Brainy Booger

Matthew comes walking toward me the other day with something tiny on his finger.
The young boy says "Look at this on my finger Mama."
I, as the mother can only wonder and ask while he is still quite a ways off "What is it?". I like to ask him before I see it for myself so I can direct him to the trash can (since he generally shows me things that belong there) before it ends up in my face.
He says "It a piece of my brain."
I say "A piece of your brain? Where did it come from?"
He answers "My brain coming out my nose."