Thanksgiving

Turkey Day was yesterday. Did you enjoy it? Did you have fun? Did you wave your hands in the air like you just didn't care?

BFF Jen gets so excited about Thanksgiving that I always sniff her drink to make sure that is the only reason she's excited. I, on the other hand, have never been one to get excited about Thanksgiving. Not that I don't look forward to it - I love getting together with everyone. It's just not something I get YAY YAY YAY IS IT THANKSGIVING YET excited about.

Except for this year. This year, I was so excited about Thanksgiving that I was literally counting down until the end of the day on Wednesday. I couldn't decide why I was so excited. Maybe it was because I didn't get to see my side of the family as much for Thanksgiving last year. Maybe it was because I hadn't been to my grandparents' in a while. Maybe it was because I knew my aunt would make brownies again - and that woman knows how to bake a brownie, let me tell you. 

But otherwise, Thanksgiving was the same as it had been every year. And then it hit me - maybe that was why I was so excited. Maybe I was just looking forward to relaxing and laughing with my family in the same way I have done since I was a baby. And because my family is awesome and I have never fully appreciated them before. 

I've said before (and stand by it) that my grandparents are better than yours.  It's still true. My grandparents open their home to us every year. They are so excited about their two great-grandchildren and that is so fun to see. Just picture my Papaw leaning over 3-month-old Peyton and making kissy noises. Best visual ever and even better to see in real life.

And I love seeing my aunt and uncle and cousins. My cousin Allen wasn't able to come this year, so we poured some cider out in his honor. But I did get to see my other two cousins, who I hadn't seen in ages, and get to know my newest two cousins, Ashleigh and Tenley! Ashleigh is a grown-up; Tenley is a baby. That will assist in future confusion in this post. It was wonderful to catch up and see them and ask about their lives. And, of course, to totally abuse my friendship with Ashleigh to ask her pregnancy and baby tips.

Seeing my aunt Shonda is an experience in itself :) since she always brings the fun and crazy to the party. But it's a good crazy, the kind your children can witness, so don't be alarmed. She's funny and goes with the flow. And I already told you about the brownies. You want to be her friend. My uncle Stan, who is the quietest one (or used to be; we broke him in), always wholeheartedly participates in our crazy, and doesn't even complain when we change our plans 16 times in a row. He needs a medal.

I get to see my immediate family a lot, but it's still fun when we get to see each other at Thanksgiving. It's like when you see a movie you love on TV and you have to watch it, even though you own it and can watch it whenever you want. I am eternally grateful for my parents and siblings. They are weird and funny and ridiculous and I know I am blessed to have my whole family around all the time. When my sister got married, I worried it would be hard to adapt to a new member of the family. But Andy jumped right in and became one of us so fast it was like he was always there. That is partly due to the fact that my entire extended family has the attitude that after we meet you once, you are now related to us and may come to all events. Please bring a dessert to share.

Then, of course, my great-grandmother and great-aunt made the trip to come see everyone like they do every year. They live a little ways away but they came anyway. And it was so fun to see them meet Peyton and Tenley. That made 5 generations of us in one room! Can you imagine that? My great-grandmother was born in 1918 (I think. If that's wrong, someone tell me, quick!!). Peyton and Tenley were born in 2012. Almost 100 years of family, together for Thanksgiving. 100 years of Thanksgivings and Christmases and birthdays and being together as often as possible.

And then there's Daniel. Oh, Daniel. Who sits quietly while my family complains about Yankees and people from "up there." Who not only engages himself in conversation with everyone from my great-grandmother to the babies, but spends his time fixing people's guns and showing them how to make all sorts of dangerous things. He got to know everyone and is genuinely glad to be part of my family. I am so grateful that my family welcomed him right away.

Even though I didn't see them at Thanksgiving this year, I have to give a shout-out to my in-laws. They have welcomed me into their family and have made a sincere and loving effort to get to know me and be my friend. I now have more parents, more sisters, more brothers, more aunts, more uncles, and more cousins to call family. Not to mention all of my cute nieces and nephews.

So this year, I am thankful for my family. I never realized how blessed I was until this year. I grew up with grandparents and great-grandparents and this year it really hit me that a lot of people do not have that opportunity. I get to not only meet but have a relationship with so many people in my family. And while so many people do not get along with their in-laws, I can't wait until Christmas so I can see all of mine again. I am blessed beyond anything I have ever deserved.

I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving and have a Merry Christmas. And if you don't have any family to see this year, or just want to borrow a grandparent, give me a call. You can join us any time. 

But stay away from the brownies. I call dibs.

5 generations of awesome. 

Spot the Savior

My family is not big on traditions (unless you count avoiding Monopoly like the plague), except at Christmas. We have a very specific way of doing things at Christmastime. One such tradition has forever remained a special place in my heart, glowing like a little cartoon flame and filling me with untold joy. That tradition is the one where we sing a song together read the Christmas story tell each other how much we love each other mercilessly mock other people's Christmas lights. 

There are only a few rules:

1) No blue lights. They are ugly. If you have blue lights and you are reading this... sorry. But heed my words.

2) No big lights and small lights mixed in on the same bush/tree/door. Pick a side, people.

3) All bush lights must cover the visible part of the bush - not just the top, one side, or the bottom.

4) Symmetry is key. If you have one half of the porch lit up but the other half is drooping into the yard because your dog enjoys the thrill of being shocked by Christmas lights, that is major points off.

5) Don't put too many blow-up creatures in your yard. Especially if they have nothing to do with Christmas. That is my mom's favorite rule.

The final element of the evening is counting how many Saviors/nativity scenes we can spot. Our record is around 8, I think, and that was after 10 neighborhoods and several crying sessions from everyone.

So last night Daniel and I continued the tradition. The results are below.

We'll start with the good ones*:

*Some of the good ones may break one of the rules above. This is because Daniel is new to the game and liked some things that I would have burned down. He'll learn soon.

Okay, enough of that. On to the good stuff:

SANTA IS DOWN! REPEAT, SANTA IS DOWN!

That is a flamingo. Stuffed with lights.

Even with no neck, Rudolph was determined to shine brightly for the kiddies.

Spongebob. Apparently we weren't the only ones who didn't care for him.

AHHHH MY EYES

"Gee, Carol, you wanna put all the lights up this year?"
"No, Jim - let's just shine a big one on the house. That'll look just as good."

These people even have blow-up items on their porch. They are very dedicated... to the crap in their yard.

These next few are from the same house. A house that had so many Christmas lights I thought I might spontaneously develop epilepsy and have a seizure if nothing more than for the sake of doing anything but staring at the yard with my mouth open.

And, so, friends, that brings us to the real event of the evening: Spotting the Savior. We spotted two real ones and one Woodstock one from Peanuts, so we're calling it 2.5.

Woodstock Jesus is a little washed out.

So there you have it. The good, the bad, and the holy. I do hope you enjoyed the tour of Christmas lights this year, and be sure to join us after the new year for a special edition of Christmas Lights: The Post-Christmas Droop.

Merry Christmas!!

Pa-wum pum pum pum

You may have noticed the color changes to my blog. This is a result of too much free time combined with a spark of creativity one afternoon. I don't know if I like it... expect to see it change a lot. If you don't like change... I can't help you. Now back to your regularly scheduled content:

My little brother was adorable when he was a little boy. He had little chubby legs and little chubby arms and did everything I told him to - who couldn't love that?

Please, no more pictures. You're embarrassing me.

He also couldn't say his Rs until he was about 8 years old. It was the cutest thing you ever heard. He called me Kwisten for years. This was made even cuter by the fact that his last name is Flerl - or, in Steven's words, Fwuh. When he was in kindergarten, he was given a solo in our church's Christmas play - The Little Drummer Boy. I promise you have never seen anything as cute as my baby brother, walking down the aisle with a plastic drum and singing "Shawuh I pway fuh you, pa-wum-pum-pum-pum, me and my dwum." I still think of him when I hear that song on the radio. Usually I text him. He usually ignores me, but I know he's just embarrassed at his talent.

Seriously, stop texting me every time you hear that song.

So the other day when I heard the song come on, I thought, "YAY - I can text Steven I can sing along!" I was enjoying listening to the drummer boy's tale when suddenly, out of nowhere - it became a rock song. Whaaaaaaa? What is the electric guitar doing in the middle of the drummer boy's song? Did I switch stations by accident? WHO AUTHORIZED THIS? But 104.7 either didn't hear my cries or didn't care, so I was forced to listen to the fake little drummer boy sing his song. Woe.

I have since heard three different versions of The Little Drummer Boy. None of them are as good as the original. I've also heard Silent Night, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, and Joy to the World - none of them close to the original. I'm no musician, but I'm just going to put something out there: You can't. improve. a Christmas carol. You can't. It is a Christmas carol. It is by definition already awesome. There is no need for the electric guitar, the crazy drum beat, the sudden key changes (I am talking to YOU, Mac Powell) - it's already good.

I probably sound like an old lady right now, but seeing as I am almost 25 I've decided to take my old-lady stand. Leave the Christmas carols alone. 

If you want to improve something, how about figuring out how to get rid of that girl who announces each and every song after it's played. You're bopping along, thinking about the great song you just heard, when suddenly you hear "Casting Crowns - While You Were Sleeping." Thanks, Voice on 104.7. Is this really what you wanted to be when you grew up? The Voice on the Fish who states the obvious? If that was indeed your goal, then congratulations. If not, stop interrupting Christmas music to inform me that I am listening to Christmas music.

Ahem. So. My brother couldn't say his Rs. The next time you hear The Little Drummer Boy (the REAL version), be sure to sing it the right way: Pa-wum-pum-pum-pum.

Why my grandparents are better than yours

Grandparents are great, aren't they? They are nice and fun and awesome. And here's a secret about grandparents:

Mine are better than yours.

That's right. I went there. Mine. Are. Better. What's that? You want me to prove it? And you want me to use pictures as a visual aid? Fine, but this is the last time today. I present to you the following evidence that my grandparents are better than yours.

These are my grandparents:

Hello

Cute, right?? I call them Mamaw and Papaw. Which leads me to the first reason my grandparents put all other grandparents to shame: You can totally call them Mamaw and Papaw, too. My grandparents will instantly adopt any of my friends (a trait my mother inherited) and extend their grandparent-ness to you. They will pretend you are theirs and ask you all sorts of questions, and then you get cookies. I know they have real names, but I think they would consider a legal change to Mamaw and Papaw - that is how dedicated they are to being your fake grandparents. Try them out - you'll like them. Oh, sorry, what's that? You hate awesome jokes and the Game Show Network? Then you have NO SOUL and my grandparents are not for you. The rest of you, look for a message from me with their address - GROUP VISIT!!!

Reason #2 my grandparents kick grandparenting booty is Mamaw's crocheting. She is the quickest crocheter this side of the Mississippi. She can crochet anything. I'm pretty sure she crocheted the Mona Lisa once. Okay, fine - but she could. She makes doilies and blankets and sometimes she makes a super-complicated thing that has no name, shows it to you, and then unravels the entire thing. That is how awesome of a crocheter she is: she doesn't even care about the awesomeness - she is beyond it. She takes your compliments and crochets them into a blanket, gives that blanket to a cute puppy and then after he snuggles up in it she makes another one and unravels it in front of that puppy, but it's okay because he has the first one. You've just been Mamawed.

"COME AT ME, KNITTERS."

The next reason my grandparents are this best can be summed up like this:

That, my friends, is a digital picture frame. They have a digital camera. However, my grandparents don't like to take the little card out of the camera and put it in the frame, but they want to use the frame. So all day long, the frame flips between the time, the West, flowers, and the weather. All day long. Tell me that isn't fabulous. And if you ask them about it, they will very patiently explain to you that the pictures that come with the frame are better than the ones they took anyway. That's what we call a win-win.

The next reason is Christmas. Every year, Mamaw decorates their house like they are in an indoor Christmas competition. And if there were such a thing they would totally win every year because Mamaw is not kidding around about Christmas. Every year, Papaw says he wont put up any more decorations for her. Every year, he puts up more decorations for her. He secretly loves it. They have plates, tablecloths, magnets, statues, villages, singing toys, clocks - they even have a toilet seat cover with Santa's face. A toilet. Seat. Cover.

Don't mind me. I'm just here to make you comfortable.

The next reason they are awesome:

My grandparents tell each other they love each other all the time.  And they mean it. They have been married for 51 years, and my Papaw still writes cute love notes to my Mamaw :) How can it get better than that?

So there you have it. Irrefutable evidence that my grandparents put all other grandparents to shame. They are not just grandparents, but super-duper, are you even for real or is this a dream, have some free gum grandparents. I love them and I am so glad I get to be their granddaughter! Don't forget - YOU CAN BE THEIR GRANDKID, TOO!!!