Llama Llama Family Holiday Drama

My title wins, I think. Llama Llama Holiday Drama just isn’t enough drama. Throw the family in there, Llama Llama Family Holiday Drama, and you’ve got a winner.

So, don’t you love it when strangers on the Internet ramble about their family drama? Not really? Then skip this one, because ramble I will.

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Baby Girl loves these books!

So, on my husband’s side of the family, there are lots of people who don’t like each other. This isn’t abnormal, because statistics show that only 20 percent of members of an extended family like each other at any given time. No, not really, but that can’t be too far off.

Keeping that statistic in mind, I was volunteered to cook Christmas Eve dinner. Once by Little Man, who sent out sweet messages to everybody on his Facebook list and asked everyone over. That obviously didn’t count. The other time was by my mother-in-law.

Here’s how it went…

“E, my niece and her family don’t have anywhere to go for Christmas,” she told me.

“Hmm.” The niece and her family (all older than me) moved back to town about a year ago, have a place to live, and have lots of close family members who aren’t my husband and myself. That sounds about as strange as saying the Anxious Family doesn’t have anywhere to go for Christmas.

“I can’t invite them to my house during our family get-together because people might get mad,” she told me.

“Who might get mad?” I asked.

“Well, you know, I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes,” she responded.

“It’s your house. Whose toes would you be stepping on?”

“Some of the others might not want them here. I’d have to call around and ask. You know how it is.”

Not really. “Is someone mad at them?” I named over the other families that were coming, wondering if there was a beef that I was unaware of. There wasn’t.

She shook her head. “No. But you know how people are. Someone might not want them here and get upset, and then we’d have drama at Christmas.”

“Well, it’s your house. If you want to invite them, then you should. I wouldn’t worry about what anyone else thinks.”

She sighed. Clearly I wasn’t getting it. “Well, maybe no one would get upset. But they might. And then what if [Niece’s] brother comes to town and finds out where they’re going for Christmas? I don’t want him and his family piling in here. And neither does her aunt, that’s why she’s not inviting them over for Christmas, either. And if I do invite [Niece], then I can’t tell her that she can’t let her brother come over. It’s Christmas, for crying out loud.”

“Well…” I wasn’t exactly at a loss for words, but none of the words I had were appropriate for deescalating drama over potential Christmas drama. Plus a headache was starting to come on.

“I know!” she said excitedly, suddenly having an idea. “We could just invite them to your house for Christmas Eve to eat dinner. And we could invite [lists several other relatives]. And if the brother finds out about it, we can just tell them that since it’s at your house that he can’t come; it wouldn’t matter then.”

Great. I get to cook and clean for fifteen people (instead of the just four of us) and potentially have a family pissed off at me.

“Yeah. I don’t know…” At some point, if you display being reserved or uncomfortable about something, people pick up on that and back off, right?

“It’s be great!” MIL said. “Everyone would be so happy and we wouldn’t have to worry about Christmas being ruined.”

I told her I’d let her know, that Sam and I needed to talk about it first, plus I needed to check to see what my dad had going on. I barely got the words out of my mouth to Sam when he said it wasn’t happening. He talked about how we already have our own Christmas Eve tradition with the kids and that he doesn’t want to break that, plus if his mom wants to invite people over for dinner, she should do it at her own house on Christmas Eve and deal with it. So, I texted MIL that we weren’t going to be able to do it. I felt relieved, but felt a bit guilty, too.

And then MIL texted me yesterday to ask me if the plans were still on and to let me know that everyone was excited about coming.

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We’re used to this method of hers — she will disregard whatever you say and move on with her plans. Sometimes we (or Sam’s siblings) shut our mouths and go with it, sometimes not. This wasn’t one of those times, so I broke it to her again that I wasn’t hosting anything on Christmas Eve. She didn’t say anything else about it, so I think we’re fer sure off the hook now.

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Valentine’s Day Blast From The Past

I could write a whole post about how we don’t really do Valentine’s Day. Not like other people do it, anyway. Sure, we exchange chocolate, even if sometimes it comes from the day after 50 percent off sale. Once in a while, there might be a gift thrown in (like a new shirt or a video game), but the gift is mostly something we’ve been meaning to buy but keep forgetting, and VDay is an excellent reminder to spend yo’ money. So, not a lot of consumer driven romance happening in the Anxious household. To each his own.

So, yeah, I could do a post on that, but that would probably be boring. Instead, I’m going to go all blast from the past and share a post about my first Valentine’s Day with Sam. It was originally published on February 12, 2015, back before this blog had much of a following, so the post will be new to most of you. It’s the best kind of Valentine’s Day story — short and with a fail.


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It was close to a year from the time that S. and I started dating before Valentine’s Day happened. I wasn’t really sure what to expect from him, since had both talked about our dislike for the holidays being so commercialized and for the suggestion that love is tied to money.

On Valentine’s Day, I came home from school (I was a junior in college at the time) and went to my room after chatting briefly with my grandmother (who I lived with). I stood over my computer desk to reach down and turn the tower on, and when I stood up, I noticed someone coming out of my closet out the corner of my eye.

Before I could register who it was, I let out a blood-curdling scream. Then I saw who it was–S. was standing there with flowers. He looked horrified.

“That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for he said,” handing me the flowers. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah, thanks,” I said, rather embarrassed. But then again, what young woman wouldn’t be freaked out when she notices a man coming out of her closet?

My grandmother popped in about that time, laughing. “I knew that’s what was going to happen when you said you wanted to hide in her closet and surprise her, S!” she said.

“Well, why didn’t you say that?” S asked.

“Because I thought it would be funny,” my grandmother replied, causing us to laugh as well. She left the room after that to let us be alone.

“Here,” S said to me, thrusting a gift bag in my hand. I opened the bag and found some chocolate, a Lord of the Rings figure, and a card that S had made for me. That might sound corny, but it was really sweet and basically said that he couldn’t wait to see me in my wedding dress (even though he hadn’t yet proposed–that wouldn’t come for a few more months).


Anxious Mom’s tips to not failing Valentine’s Day this weekend:

1. Don’t jump out of a closet to scare your lover. Especially when she has no reason to think that you would be home. Surprises are good, but not this kind. It will totally kill the VDay mood.

2. Skip out on any restaurants whose main menu consists of breakfast items if you’re going for a romantic vibe.
tumblr_lqb62gmfeT1qhjbxeo1_4003. Don’t give her a bag with a pumice stone and foot moisturizer and tell her it’s for her dry feet. (This happened on our second Valentine’s Day…and that was our real last attempt at celebrating that holiday.) Opt for a trip to the spa, especially if you don’t want to see a pumice stone flying at your head.

I know y’all must have some Valentine’s Day fails, so do share!

It’s Hard Out Here For An Elf

So, I’ve been doing the Elf on the Shelf thing the entire month of December. Or nine days. In this time, I’ve only forgotten to move Rufus twice. (That’s approximately an 80 percent success rate!) I had to tell my husband to move the elf while in the car rider yesterday, but we’re getting there.

Of course, there was the time I hid him too good and Little Man’s Christmas spirit almost disappeared, but hey, I still moved the little fucker. Not my fault if the kid can’t find him.

My husband has been questioning my elf placing methods, though.

You see, some people do a great job with elf placement. They come up with clever things for the elf to do or place them in places/positions that one’s spouse wouldn’t question.

Not me.

Not Pinterest approved elf placement.

At first glance, it may appear that the elf is being tortured. But that is what my husband  thought. “Oh my god, that looks awful!” he said. The elf is, after all, hanging upside down from a blind cord with his hands bound. But that’s not what’s happening. The Anxious Household isn’t the Guantánamo Bay for terrorist elves. In fact, what’s happening here is that Rufus is delivering a sweet note to Little Man. As for being bound? Like I said, I’m shitty at elf placement.

I’ve been reading StomperDad’s Daily Elf post each day and last night, I decided to copy him. He did one where his elves TP’d the house. Here’s my version where I TP’d a section of the Christmas tree (only a section because a) I don’t want to clean up later and b) I bought GOOD toilet paper this week, not the cheap shit): 

“That doesn’t look right,” Sam told me after I invited him to check out my work. “Why is he stuck in that tube like that? It looks like he’s being tortured!”

Clearly the theme for the elf will be torture. Maybe I’ll connect Rufus to the car battery for my next act.

Weekend Coffee Share: The Fourth, A Movie, And Family Pics

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Hello friends, it’s that time again–our weekly coffee date. Or our weekly “E gets a hot chocolate from Starbucks and pretends it’s coffee to look more sophisticated while the other people drink their coffee like a normal person” date.

So, if we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I’m soooo glad the Fourth of July is over. I’m not a big fan of holidays, especially ones that require you to either a) spend large sums of money to show your love or b) shoot off fireworks that have me anxious as hell. It’s okay if I can expect the booms, but when several folks are shooting them off at random in the neighborhood…yikes. Especially the ones that are high pitched…just why?!

Despite the fireworks, it was a nice Fourth. My husband’s folks called to have us over to grill out for a late lunch. His cousin and her family was there, and we had steaks, potatoes, fresh corn on the cob (the best thing ever), and salad. I was given a fair amount of hell for my salad. Since my MIL knows I’m picky, she announced she was setting aside a “bowl of lettuce” for me, as she was making a salad with a lot of things in it that I don’t like. Everyone found the sad bowl of lettuce hilarious. (I did add a sprinkling of cheese and bacon bits to it, but it was still referred to as “E’s bowl of lettuce, lol.”)

After we left the MIL’s house, I took Little Man to the movies to see “Inside Out.”

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Have any of y’all seen that movie? If so, what’d you think? LM and I both were torn. LM liked the movie, but thought it was very sad throughout. I also thought it was rather depressing, although I thought it was cool how it taught how memories are stored and how certain events can shape ones personality and so on. I’m not sure if it’s one I’d want to watch it again though just because of how depressing it felt overall. Don’t be a buzzkill, Disney!!!

I’d also tell you that we got our pictures made today, both the family picture and Baby Girl’s one-year photo. That went well. My kids are gorgeous and thus make gorgeous pics (nope, not bragging at all heehee). Check out a few below (I’ll remove later since I don’t like leaving personal pics up for long):

Another family was getting pictures made and had a boy and girl close to our kids ages. We let BG crawl around and she was “playing” with the other baby, who looked to be about 18 months old but was only 10 months old. Likewise, the other family was surprised that BG was one and thought she was 9 months old.

Anyway, the little dude crawled up and kinda situated himself on BG’s lap. She promptly shoved him the hell off. He crawled back, and she smacked him in the head and shoved him off again. After we got out to the car, Sam was bragging about how his daughter “doesn’t take crap off anybody, even babies twice her size.” Oh lord!

Well, that’s all I’ve got for now.

So tell me, how was your week? Did you have a great Fourth? 

My First Grader is a Valentine’s Day Card Maker Pro

One of my favorite things about Little Man in his way with words. He tends to say exactly what is on his mind and doesn’t have much of a filter. He is very literal, so sometimes the things he says can come off as being a bit rude, but don’t usually mean to be (I don’t think), as he is a very thoughtful and tender-hearted kid. As such, it’s always fun to see what he comes up with when he has to write a letter or card.

He fixed up cards for his classmates and teachers tonight to take for their party tomorrow. I had a tough time keeping a straight face when I saw the one he did for his teacher:

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