Butterflies are free to fly, but to purchase them you need American dollars

Boy, oh boy, I’m telling you the kids these days sure do live large. It is Saturday afternoon and once again I’ve set up shop at a local Starbucks, all the while my mountain of ironing and a monstrous mound of laundry is bursting through the doors of my laundry shoot, beckoning me to come home (stacked so high that when the kids slide the next pile through the hole upstairs they are greeted with the top of the pile; of course, if they ever wore anything for more than five seconds and realized that a towel can be used more than once, if hung up to dry, rather than discarded on the floor to grow mold and mildew, there might not be quite so much laundry. Also, you may be wondering what’s up with me and the ironing? I love the peaceful process of ironing and the sense of accomplishment. And I like all things to be neat and orderly. You know me, more of everything, including issues with OCD.).

So, for today’s quota of pleasure and entertainment, Amanda and her gal pals are celebrating a friend’s birthday by enjoying spa services and lunch; very lovely and generous of the birthday girls family, and quite civilized. When I was a girl, on the birthday party circuit, things were much different. I’m racking my brain trying to remember if I ever attended a party that wasn’t in someone’s home where we didn’t eat boiled hot dogs or sandwiches, play pin the tail on the donkey and eat home made cake? Nothing comes to mind, so my version of the story is going to be: no, I did not. I also walked to school up hill, both ways, in the snow without boots. Waa, waa, waa.

While I sit and wait, rather than troll the mall, I can’t wait to tell you all about my special find. I have an affinity for just about everything, but I am particularly drawn to insects (the decorative kind, not the creepy crawlers), and especially butterflies. I have loved them ever since I was in grammar school when Sister Jo Anne, a very hip and groovy nun that did not where a habit, but funk-adelic polyester as it was the 70’s, read to my class, “If you know a Vanessa….(everyone turned to stare at me, and I was terribly and painfully shy, so by then I was sliding under my desk to hide. I always hated my name and desperately wanted to be named something normal like Mary or Kathy), her name means butterfly.” Butterflies are beautiful, and colorful, and graceful and lovely. Yay me. I have been collecting butterfly themed items for years. I have a lovely collection of framed antique butterfly, dragonfly and insect prints that float up the wall of the stairs going to our second floor. There are about 47 of them so far, and it’s a nightmare to dust them and keep the frames all straight, rather than slightly askew (Wrigley and the children are forever running in to them as they fly down the stairs), but I just don’t care. They make me happy.

Well, this Christmas my friend and neighbor Missy was with her family doing a little shopping downtown Chicago, and stumbled across a special treasure; butterfly ornaments! Not just a butterfly, but a butterfly that is an enormous 10” square with a textured tiger print pattern on its wing span. How awesome! When she saw it, she said she knew she had to get it for me just for fun. If there’s something I love almost as much as butterflies it’s a saucy animal print, and it was perfect because I have a tiger print runner going up our staircase along side my floating butterfly collection! Needless to say I loved it! Thanks Miss!

Also needless to say is that after Christmas I high tailed it over to Marshall Field’s (though I guess they still insist on calling it Macy’s) to track down more butterflies. It only took stalking the Oak Brook store and the flag ship State Street store to amass a collection of 16 of these beauties. Now I have a flock (or is that just for sheep?).

The question then becomes: What exactly does one do with 16, 10”, tiger print butterflies? I don’t know yet. For now they are carefully and safely tucked away in their very own Rubbermaid box in the attic while I thoughtfully consider that dilemma. Maybe on a tree, maybe intertwined in garland draped along the banister. So many butterflies, so many possibilities……..

TJ Maxx, a fabulous raspberry Cole Haan hand bag and a Nobel Peace Prize........

Do you ever feel like you have a sixth sense? I’m not talking about anything creepy like seeing dead people, but rather having an inexplicable connection to something. Like being able to read someone’s aura, or being a clairvoyant. I have a similar such gift, only it’s my connection to things. They speak to me. Again, that would be how one comes to accumulate………MORE!


One time I was wandering the aisles at TJ Maxx and More (the name just says it all!), when out of the corner of my eye, something caught my attention. Fascinated, unable to look away, I slowly, and curiously, approached this most interesting, and beautiful object. I gazed at it, took it all in, and what I saw in it was…… potential. It held no practical purpose, but often we enjoy and appreciate beauty for its own sake, not because it holds any particular function or use. We get pleasure from admiring beauty; beautiful things, beautiful artwork, beautiful people. What I saw was a striking, red, Asian bust that stood a foot and a half tall. She was proud and impressive, lovely and resplendent in her jewels. I loved her, but felt that as a practical person (HA, HA, HA), I didn’t have a “need” for her, so I forced myself to walk away. As I continued to browse through the rows, and rows, of merchandise, all with their own stories to tell, I kept thinking about that red bust. I was obsessed with her. She tormented me, and beckoned that I come back to rescue her. It seemed cruel to ignore her plea’s to be saved, and as a humanitarian, with my heart racing, I ran back to find her, wrought with worry that someone else might have taken my beautiful treasure. As I turned the corner, relieved, there she sat, waiting for……. me. I swooped her up, carefully placing her in my cart and brought her home. She has become a familiar friend and we have shared many wonderful stories together. Sometimes she sits on my Dining Room table, keeping a watchful eye over all that enter our home. She has helped me celebrate many parties as the Goddess of Volunteering and the Tiki Princess. She has a beauty that is all her own, my beautiful Buddha. Nick reminds me, “What is it with you and the Buddha’s? You know we’re catholic right?” Our love knows no bounds.

Recently, on another such excursion to TJ Maxx and More (because that really is the very best place to find MORE), I stumbled upon a treasure of another sort. I really do love everything and am an equal opportunity hoarder, which is why I obsessively shop for steals and deals. It is the thrill of the hunt, and discovering the potential of all these wonderful things that excite me so! As a total bag lady I love purses, but not just any old ordinary purse, they have to be really good. By good I am suggesting that the purse needs to be made by a fine craftsman, be an outrageous color or have fantastic hardware, or be made of animal skin. Meow…….On this particular day the sheen of a raspberry patent leather caught my attention. Upon inspection I discovered that it was a Cole Haan handbag. Bliss! These bags retail for hundreds of dollars, but I unearthed one at a bargain. Oh, happiest of days. While I certainly should be more mindful, this was an opportunity not to be missed!

Fast forward another month or so, and you’ll find that I have been cruising the aisles of yet another TJ Maxx to discover, out of the corner of my eye, my Cole Haan handbag, but this time it is sporting a new red clearance sticker! Happy days are here again! Now my good deal had been transformed from a caterpillar, to the butterfly of super, extra, bargains! Proudly I take my bag to the register and make my purchase.


I race home, dig through my messy pile of disorganized receipts, and jump for joy when I actually lay my hands on the one I need. I zipity zip back to TJ Maxx to return the first bag, only to discover that it has been over 30 days since my initial purchase and will be issued a store credit rather than what I prefer, which is a refund on my credit card. Ugh! Think. Think. Think. Savvy and experienced shopper that I am………I have a plan.

1. Race back home, snag newly reduced priced fabulous Cole Haan bag, with receipt which is less than 30 days old.
2. Return bag for refund on my credit card.
3. Purchase newly reduced/returned bag using…….store credit
4. Have an additional $60.00 store credit for More fun nonsense at TJ Maxx and More!
5. Realize if I spent as much time focusing on solving real problems as I do on silly, self imposed, made up problems, then I could find a cure for cancer (if I were a scientist) or remedy the epidemic of world-wide hunger (I am a mother that reminds her pals to eat what’s on their plates, because there are starving children in Africa, so I could totally do that) and win a Nobel Peace Prize! Take that TJ Maxx and your 30 day return policy!

Fearless and Fourteen

As a More is More Mom® you know that I am all about more of…….. everything! The way I see it is there couldn’t possibly be an event, big or small, that doesn’t deserve to be celebrated. It is the milestones that we achieve that in large part define who we become, and these experiences are important.

Amanda and her pal CC have birthdays in the same month, and coincidentally so do her mom and I. We call it December Birthday Club, and each December just the four of us girls go out to celebrate. We may spend the day in the city, go to the movies, go shopping and naturally there is always eating (and when appropriate, cocktailing, and when is it not appropriate to cocktail other than at say, a job interview?). Well, these two have been planning on having a joint birthday bash forever, and this was the year!

These girls love Taylor Swift, and when we all saw her live in concert in the fall, as she was making her way down the center aisle, she stopped and hugged Amanda! Amanda told her, “I love you!” With the sweetest and deepest of sincerity, Taylor replied, “I love you too.” Amanda was on cloud nine, and said Taylor (you know once you’ve hugged her you can call her Taylor) smelled sooooo good that she wanted to send her a letter to find out what kind of shampoo she used. Isn’t she too cute? Anyway, the concert was to promote her Fearless album, which was awesome! My throat hurt for days afterward from all of my singing in the car on the way there, with my head out of the sunroof like I was in a limo (and of an age where you might still stick your head out of the sun roof of a limousine), at the concert, and then all the way home again. I am sure everyone in the car was tired of my singing, as I am not Taylor Swift.

It was decided that the theme of our party was going to be “Fourteen and Fearless” (in homage to Taylor Swift, I haven’t hugged her so I still have to refer to her by her formal name). We knew customized t-shirts were a must, but the afternoons and evenings are so busy that I decided that I would pick both girls up from school, bring them lunch and take them to the custom t-shirt shop, which as luck would have it is only two blocks away from school. Serendipity! The dilemma then was how exactly does one sign out two students, one of which is not even your own (but who has permission from her mother in writing, so it wasn’t like it was kidnapping or anything), at lunch time? The girls were suggesting that I say I was taking them to the orthodontist. Really? They don’t even go to the same orthodontist, and besides wouldn’t it seem suspect that they just so happened to have appointments at the same time? And why then wouldn’t CC’s mother take her if there were in fact an appointment? No. Honesty is always the best policy so when I had to supply the school with a reason for their departure I said, “Monkey Business.” They picked out darling tie-dyed t-shirts. Amanda’s was a great cherry red and CC’s was a fantastic lime green. We picked out white iron on letters and white snowflake appliqués for a little embellishment. They read: “Fourteen and Fearless” on the front, and in big numbers on the back “09” to mark the year. They were darling. You truly cannot go wrong with a good keepsake!

Eight screaming teenage girls on the upper deck of a train headed in to Chicago is the fastest way to clear a car. They ate doughnuts, they told stories, they laughed and everything was a photo-op (naturally all had cell phones and digital cameras to capture each and every moment of our adventure, and capture they did). There are pictures of girls taking pictures of other girls. Great silliness I tell you.

We walked from the train to Millennium Park in downtown Chicago……an award-winning center for art, music, architecture and landscape design, and they have an ice rink just like the one at Rockefeller Center in New York City, only better, because it is in Chicago. If you haven’t had the pleasure of visiting, you should, because it is pretty sweet. All bundled up in varying styles and shades of pink hats, gloves and scarves, we were ready to take the town by storm (fortunately not a “snow” storm).

 

The line to skate was so very long that we took it as yet another opportunity to snap some more great pictures. We finally got on the ice and the girls had a blast skating, and falling and ultimately doing the Chicken Dance and the Hokey Pokey. Who doesn’t love to do a mean Hokey Pokey? ME! I had both of those dances banded from our wedding and opted instead for the much more elegant conga line…Hot, Hot, Hot! When the girls had had enough (or it may have been when CC’s mom and I decided to strategize about how best to beat and avoid the crowd at the skate rental return counter) we headed down Michigan Avenue, One Magnificent Mile (though after being outdoors all day, it seemed longer), to Chicago’s Water Tower, which is a beautiful mall, with all the best shee-shee-poo-poo purveyors. Our favorite place to eat, other than Miller’s Pub on Wabash, is the Food Life at Water Tower. This place has everything! And it’s not that icky, gross, greasy fast food stuff like at an ordinary mall. No the delicacies here are extraordinary, lovely and delicious. They have comfort food, a grill, pasta, pizza, a rotisserie, stir fry, sushi, Mexican, a salad bar, a dessert bar, a juice bar and most importantly a bar, bar. Did you know that they will only permit you to purchase two glasses of wine at a time? I’m just saying. The other great part is that they give each patron a little credit card so you don’t have to worry about your bill at each counter, but at the end at check out instead. So simple. The girls ate together and continued to snap more great pics, while we enjoyed our salads (and okay, you got me, two glasses of wine….each). We were on a tight time table if we were going to fit in all of our fun and be back at the train station on time. Faster girls! Faster!

For me the highlight of our day was our walk back towards State Street (you know….that great Street). Linked arm and arm, these girls were full of Christmas cheer as they sang every Christmas Carol they could possibly remember down the street. “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” was a particular hit with our little Catholic choir girls. The passersby were in such good spirits themselves as they chimed in with the various chorus’s. We made our way to Marshall Field’s (now called Macy’s, but it just seems so wrong) to look at their legendary Christmas windows, which were not great again this year. But what was great was that we bumped in to my mom as she was bustling down the street doing her last minute Christmas errands. Hard to believe that she didn’t notice the band of merry caroler’s, especially the little blonde one yelling, “Nana”, but she didn’t. We had to accost her on the street. Once when I was in High School my friend and I cut school to go shopping at the Old Orchard shopping mall (again I am seeing a theme here of shopping, eating and cocktailing….next time I’ll make myself look better by discussing what I am reading, when I am exercising, and if I am getting enough rest, but who’d want to read about that?). My partner in crime and I were only completely conspicuous wearing green and gold cheerleading uniforms in the middle of the day, and who do you think walked right passed us? MY MOM! However, lucky for me, she didn’t happen to notice the two girls in the green and gold cheerleading uniforms shopping around in the middle of the school day. I had a quite the chuckle when here I was, 27 years later, relating this story to her, and my mom was laughing as she explained to me that she must have been playing hooky from her job while I was playing hooky from school! Apple. Tree. As the next generation of girl in our family heads to High School, I will be sure to keep my eyes peeled for Amanda while I am at Target when she is supposed to be at school!

Walking back to the train we were laughing and reminiscing about our day. After having been gone for nearly ten hours, we gave up the pretense of caring whether or not eight noisy teenage girls disturbed the other passengers on the train. Like it or lump it. There was one little surprise left for the girls when we pulled in to the station; party favors. We debated about what we could do to commemorate our day and decided upon decoupage, personalized Christmas ornaments. A few weeks prior to the party, Amanda and CC got together and made the ornaments. They printed out their names, and each individual girl’s name, and sayings from the stories of their friendships in red and green ink. They cut out winter images from wrapping paper, like snowflakes and mittens and decoupaged everything onto clear acrylic round ornaments. They used fancy paper shredding scissors to cut up more red and green wrapping paper to make crinkly paper to stuff inside the ornaments. Once the modge podge dried they tied ribbon around the top, and placed them in red and green winter themed Chinese takeout style boxes, atop a soft bed of crinkly paper. Who doesn’t love something personalized?

The girls in Amanda and CC’s group of friends were so incredibly generous that they gave them obscenely huge gifts card each as a birthday present. Even the two friends that were unable to attend contributed, which was very kind and thoughtful. During the party we realized that we would end the day with so many wonderful photographs, that we decided we would do a double sided scrap book page as a way of saying thanks for the memories and the gift of their friendship (and the obscenely huge gift cards).

We have done some really great birthday parties over the years (remind me to tell you another day about the scavenger hunt at the mall!), but what I particularly loved about this party was that the focus wasn’t about consuming something or making grand gestures. It was about making memories with good friends that will last a lifetime. Every year when we have our December Birthday Club we will remember the hours we lovingly spent together creating our crafts and celebrating these moments. It was Christmastime, and It’s a Fearless and Wonderful Life………

Dirty laundry is like bunny rabbits....it keeps multiplying

As you know, I am the More is More Mom™, and I am a professional mother.

One of my many exciting and glamorous duties as a homemaker is of course maintaining the individual inventory of items of clothing for each member of my family. Everybody has laundry….but not like we have laundry. Much of it is my own doing.

First of all, I purchase each and every article of clothing that crosses the threshold in to our home.

Second, I am a ridiculous hoarder of all things so everyone has an insane amount of everything….underwear and socks (socks for every occasion; short sports socks, white knee socks for Amanda’s school uniform, tall tube socks for Nick for hockey, dress socks for all, and fun whimsical socks in a rainbow of colors, some with stripes, argyles, holiday themes and other fun patterns); undershirts for the boys and tanks tops for the girls; workout shirts, sweatshirts, shorts and sweat pants, baseball hats for working out (mostly Cub’s) and baseball hats to wear when you’re not all sweaty and gross (mostly Cub’s, I do like for us to show our team spirit); leotards for Amanda; a dozen Under Armor shirts for Nick for hockey; pajama’s….I love pajama’s (I mean who doesn’t like to snuggle in to a cozy pair, or fourteen pairs, of pj’s?); casual t-shirts with funny sayings……I love funny sayings such as “Your Mom Does My Homework”, “WWGD…..What Would Gretzky Do?”, my favorite “I can see your five hole” (a hockey term for between the goalies legs, but it sounds so naughty!) and “Chicago Cub’s, World Series Champion’s”, oh, wait a minute, we don’t have one that says that); numerous pairs of blue jeans, which get ironed, for each person (Chuck wears business attire by day, and my pals wear a school uniform, no real need for 4 pairs of jeans a piece); dress slacks and shorts; casual slacks and shorts; skirts and dresses for the girls, running the gambit of formality; polo shirts; dress shirts; sweaters, pullovers and cardigans; everything in every imaginable color. Don’t get me started on accessories, outerwear and footwear. Clearly with me, the lists just keep going, and going, and going, and going. I’m like the Energizer Bunny!

Third, I do all of the laundry in this house myself. I realize this is a huge mistake, but if I allowed for these people (meaning the children) to help I would wait for the rest of my life for it to get tackled and the mounds of dirty clothes would pile up to the ceiling, and then you’d have to call me out on Oprah for my hoarding issues. So you see, it really is just a matter of self preservation that I do all the laundry. It’s that, or it is just a vicious cycle of managing my over purchasing. Oh well. I suppose Freud will have to figure that out on another day.

The only thing that I ask of my people is that they bring their laundry baskets up to their bedrooms and put away their clothes. That does seem like a fairly modest request. Sometimes however even that is apparently too much to ask, so I schluck the basket, carefully balancing the neatly folded items that are piled two feet higher than the baskets rim, up the stairs, down the hall and in to their respective bedrooms. Once the baskets have been sitting on the floor for several days, rifled through because the children can’t be bothered with actually removing their clothing from the basket, opening the drawers and closet, and putting their belongings away, I go totally ape shit! On principle (ha, ha, ha…who is the one that is trained here? Much like dealing with the dog…it’s ME!), and because I need the basket back to start filling it up with the newly washed and neatly folded clothes, I empty the contents of the basket on to their beds. You see, I show them (by sorting through the basket and arranging the piles by category…not only am I a hoarder, but I am also completely OCD). Now they have to put away their clothes or they won’t be able to sleep in their beds! Or will they………

At six o’clock this morning I went to wake Sir Nichols up for school, as I do every morning (he is completely incapable of waking up to an alarm clock, so each morning starts out with yelling, swearing and near physical violence……Good Morning! Rise and Shine!). As I entered his room, I discovered that his laziness and complete disregard for any sort of neatness or order had reached a new low. It would appear that when he went to bed last night that this kid actually pulled back the covers and climbed in to bed amidst the piles of clean and neatly stacked clothing, and the empty hangers from his uniform that he had flung on to the bed as he was getting ready for school. Study guides, textbooks and spirals had fallen on to the floor. Well, at least he was studying, which is a good thing. Maybe some day he will be able to afford a live in maid…….unless he plans on keeping the one he already has by living here forever. Once again it sure looks like I taught these kids a valuable lesson....leave it for Mom.

If you put it up, eventually it all has to come down......

Wow! The Nordstrom’s Espresso Bar’s hot chocolate has nothing on Starbucks! Instead of warm, frothy, chocolate-y goodness, there is a thick, scalded chocolate after taste, but yet, out of apathy, I continue to drink it. Chocoholic! I wish the Starbucks at the mall had the cozy, warm and welcoming seating, and more importantly an electrical outlet, like their more popular accommodations, instead of counter top service only, because otherwise I would be there. I suppose it makes sense though; sip on a tasty beverage while you peruse the shops. My second choice was to sit in the Ladies Lounge with all of the nursing mothers. Been there, done that. Besides, there is no window in the Ladies Lounge, understandably. At least the Nordstrom’s Espresso bar has a window, so it has that going for it…which is nice.

You must be wondering……Vanessa, if you are at “The Mall”, your very most favorite place in the entire world, then why are you blogging and not browsing? The answer is simple; I believe that I have looked at and touched all of the available merchandise and goodies, made as many purchases, exchanges and returns as humanly possible, and now I must wait for the new and exciting merchandise to make its debut come spring. I promise you Mr. Bernanke, I am a patriotic gal and have done more than my part to stimulate the economy this Holiday Season. My method is always: one for you, one for me (two for me, three for me….that is of course how one accumulates…..MORE).

Why does the time pass by so quickly in such a whirlwind of activity? It seems like I was just putting up my beloved Christmas decorations yesterday (because I was. We didn’t even get our tree in the basement with all of the kid’s ornaments up until Monday the 21st! Amanda wanted a real tree and this one turned out to be so pathetic that I’m too embarrassed to have even recorded it for the sake of posterity).

I had all of these grandiose ideas about making this Christmas extra special. I wanted to watch Christmas movies, make cut out cookies from scratch and decorate them with frosting and beautiful candy confections. I wanted us as a family; Chuck, Nicholas, Amanda, Wrigley and myself to pile in to our SUV, sing along with Christmas Carols blaring from my I-Pod, drink hot chocolate (from Starbucks) and drive around looking at beautiful, twinkling Christmas lights. You know, like in the olden days.

But, alas, this was not to be. We had numerous hockey games, near and far, a gymnastics meet in De Kalb, school projects, work projects and a great 14th birthday party for Amanda. Our family just so happens to be at the pinnacle of its busy time, stealing moments to share together. I think that is one reason that I crave tradition. I love to be surrounded by the happy memories of our past as we create new ones.

In order to get in to our attic when we first moved in to our home we had to shimmy through an access panel via a tall ladder that had to be brought up from the garage. Getting out the holiday decorations was a complete chore and a two man job. One of us would shove boxes through the scuttle hole, and the other unfortunate soul on the opposite end would have to catch them, with dust and insulation flying in to your mouth and sticking to your clothing. Then there was the matter of stacking the umpteen million boxes in the guest room, the hallway and Nick’s room. Of course it was a total mess, until the day that we installed…..attic stairs. Ah, the civility and simplicity of it all. Pull down the stairs, unfold the ladder and voila, easy access to the attic. So now the only hassle of decorating for Christmas is finding the time.

To me it is so important to cultivate a warm and nurturing environment for our family. I believe that is one of the ways that our children grow up feeling secure, loved, safe and special. I put a small tree in both Nicholas and Amanda’s bedroom.

Forever Amanda’s bedroom was a warm, buttery yellow with red accents and she had a great red and white tree. Now Amanda’s bedroom is green with pink accents, so we have started over with pink, glittery ball ornaments, gigantic multi-colored lollipops and pink beaded jewel garland as a base. We filled in the tree with ornaments that have special meaning to her and have been collected over time. She has several gymnasts; on the balance beam and in various contortions, Sponge Bob and his funny friends, a red cell phone (hello…like mother, like daughter), a Chinese food take-out box (love of food is a constant theme in our household), Starbucks cup (just like Buddy the Elf….we love hot chocolate, and maple syrup!), and what groovy girls tree would be complete without the obligatory peace sign?

Seeing your children grow up is bittersweet. I was really sad when it was time to pack up Nick’s toys until I thought about using some of them on his Christmas tree in his room! Nick has these great G.I. Joe sized hockey dolls that make a fantastic base for his tree. Wayne Gretzky of course is a wonderful tree topper alongside his Chicago Cubs fuzzy dice, and you’ll find other greats like Mario Lemieux, Bobby Hull, Bobby Orr and the like scattered about the tree. What do you do with all of those buttons you get with your photo packages when you take your team pictures? Why not put them on your themed tree? It’s fun to pull them out every year and reminisce about our younger days! The rest of Nick’s tree is covered in hockey, baseball and sports ornaments and his very favorite, Homer Simpson (such refined taste!).


Being a complete and total hoarder of all things I don’t have room for my formal tree in my Family Room. A number of years ago we flip flopped our Living Room and Dining Room because our Living Room was much larger. Think outside the box. We love it because now we don’t have to put our Dining Room table on an angle in order to extend it to seat ten. However, there is no room in our new Living Room for our large tree, so I put our formal tree in our Dining Room. It is fantastic!

As you can see, everything starts with a good basic color scheme or theme. This tree has enormous red, sparkly ball ornaments; red velvet ornaments with gold braided trim; red, glass, Christmas tree ornaments with gold glitter accents; coordinating sage green, glass, Christmas tree ornaments with gold glitter accents; and gigantic gold, glittery dragonfly and red, glittery butterfly ornaments as a base. Many of the ornaments that I have collected for this tree are red and green in nature, but my favorite part of this tree is my special ornaments. I have a huge collection of Gone With the Wind ornaments because that is my favorite book ever, and I love Scarlett and Rhett! You will find several of Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley, and I have I Dream of Jeanie, Lady Diana and James Dean. I am a huge movie and pop culture fan (but please don’t ask me about anything smart like fractions or state capitols. My pea brain just doesn’t seem to care. If I have to choose between watching the News and Entertainment Tonight, Mary Hart will win hands down every time)!

Scattered about my tree I have several Court Jester monkeys and one sits at the top for a bit of whimsy. If you are from Chicago, and love Marshall Fields on State Street, then you will appreciate my Uncle Mistletoe, Frango Mint box, Clock on State Street and Marshall Field’s is Christmas shopping bag ornaments. It is so very festive to enjoy our Christmas Eve dinner, celebrating with our family, while we sit by our tree.

My favorite tree though is the little one I put in my kitchen. It is predominately covered in snowmen that I have collected over time, but there are some very personal ornaments that represent everything that I love. There are; a pair of hockey skates for Nicholas, an ornament that Amanda made at Girls Scouts fashioned out of the plaid fabric from her school uniform, a Chocolate Labrador and a green ball that says “Wrigley” for our baby, a chef for our love of eating good food, a stone garden urn that represents our love for enjoying our deck together for meals and outdoor movie nights and a House of Blues ornament from a wonderful trip we took as a family to Disney.

Now, as you can see, as the More is More Mom™, I really love stuff. The only problem with taking out all of this stuff….is putting it all away! Don’t be surprised if you see these trees in February donned with hearts. Very Festive!

How much is that doggie in the window?

How much is that doggie in the window?
Well, actually, we didn’t find him in a shop window. Perhaps you can tell by just looking at his perfectly square regal head and his beautiful angelic face that Wrigley is, of course, a pure bred Chocolate Labrador Retriever. In other words, he hails from…….Wisconsin. I mean really, for a dog this special (read: NAUGHTY, but lovable) one must pay top dollar and travel five hours round trip by automobile. One of our most favorite things about him, other than his charming, winning, dear, sweet and funny personality, is his enormous block head. It is so big that people frequently mistake him for a Rottweiler. While he is my baby, I am thrilled to pieces that I didn’t actually give birth to him the old fashioned way, because that head would certainly have been a real deal breaker as it made its way through the birth canal. I have nightmares just thinking about it!
Today is Wrigley’s 7th birthday. Milk Bones and rawhide for everyone!

At the tender age of seven (49 in dog years…he’s older than both of his parents!) he is just as naughty now as he ever was when he was just a pup…..which is plenty naughty. When he was a little guy, I would always tell him that if he didn’t shape up I would take him to Chinatown where they would make Moo Shu Wrigley out of him; at nearly 100lbs that would have been some pretty good eating. Here he is just the other day after he’d swiped a ball in Nick’s room. He loooooves it, almost as much as a good belly rub (and who doesn’t love a good belly rub?), when you chase him around in circles after he steals something. Oh, he lets me know when it’s go time. The chase is on, when out of the blue, I hear an enormous thud upstairs, and then I hear him tear down the hallway. He’s got something that doesn’t belong to him, and he can’t wait for me to find out what it is! He does the same thing to our cleaning lady Janina. After he mauls her at the front door, tries to take a nibble out of her sandwich as she is eating it, he takes her cleaning supplies; rags, feather duster, toilet bowl scrubber. It’s the highlight of his week!

Like any good Lab, Wrigley’s been up to plenty of mischief during his first seven years. He once ate the arm rest off of the door of our car, down to the metal stud. Twice he has eaten a tray of brownies, which the vet’s office informed me was not a lethal dosage for an animal of his size. When I inquired what would be a lethal amount, they did not respond, and I think they may have reported me to DPFS (Department of Puppy and Family Services). Seriously, when I brought him in for his 11 week check up the doctor was running behind schedule due to an unexpected bunny rabbit emergency. When I told them I couldn’t wait any longer because I had to pick up my human children from school, they said I could leave Wrigley with them for his check up, but that he was so darn cute he might not be there when I returned. I told them, “Don’t make any promises you’re not willing to keep.” Those animal lovers are crazy! I once had to bring them a stool sample and they thought nothing of the fact that I had dog shit in my Kate Spade purse. I am quite sure Ms. Kate Spade had never intended her beautifully crafted handbags to be used to carry doggie stool samples. Wrigley was such a holy terror when he was a little pup that I cried nearly everyday for the first six months. Chuck would tell me, “If you want to, we can give him away.” Between sobs I would tell him, “Of –course- I- want-to-give-him-a-way-but-he-lives-here-now.”
He has gnawed through the telephone cord, while I was talking on the phone. He ate a Burning Bush, one branch at a time. When he didn’t die right away, I prayed that it was a slow releasing poisonous bush, which it was not. He ate all of the bark, strip by strip, off of our beautiful Crimson King Maple tree. It went in to shock and died. He ripped entire sheets of lattice off of our deck. When he would dig a hole in the back yard, and all you could see were his hind quarters, I would tell him, “Go ahead and keep digging. It’s just about deep enough to be your grave.” One time he was angry with me because I put up the gate to keep him near me in the kitchen, and just to spite me he went and took a bite out of my favorite Puma gym shoes, and brought the piece over to me and dropped it at my feet. But I think my favorite naughty Wrigley story would be when he spent the night at my parent’s house and while George slept on the couch (because Wrigley was peacefully sleeping next to my mom on George’s side of the bed, and George did not want to disturb him) Wrigley stole his teeth! My mom heard a strange clank, clank, crunch sound and made the unpleasant discovery that George’s denture plate was gone! She pried open Wrigley’s mouth, and stuck her hand inside to find that he had already dropped it on the floor. Thankfully there wasn’t any damage; they were just covered in gooey, slimy, dog slobber. Apparently Wrigley hasn’t read any of Emily Post’s etiquette advice on how to be a good houseguest.

But more than anything….Wrigley is a lover. Here he is with his very best friend Hobbs when they were just puppies. We can’t even say his name without Wrigley going berserk. We have to refer to him as the “H” man. Thank Heaven’s he doesn’t know how to spell!

He loves his Nana, my mom, in a completely bizarre and unnatural way (though you can see that she totally encourages his obsession). At the mere mention of her name the drooling, the whimpering and the pacing begins. He reverberates with excitement!

I’ve never had a dog before and had absolutely no idea the kind of love you can feel for an animal. To me Wrigley is not just a dog, he is my baby, and I love him in much the same way that I love my children. I know……..I am now one of those crazy dog people.
Wrigley represents the very best parts of our family; love, affection, a sense of adventure, loyalty, devotion, adoration and satisfaction. He plays hard and he loves hard. He enjoys everything with such complete freedom and abandon; swimming at the quarry, sticking he head out the window when we go bye-bye in the car (someone always gives him a window seat), the vigor with which he takes off for our runs in a dead sprint (nearly taking my arm out of its socket every single time), the way he flies down the stairs when he hears the garage door open, and he hesitates for just a moment at the window in our Living Room to make sure it’s us, before he meets us at the door, and the way he enjoys and appreciates a fine meal.

When we first got Wrigley he was seven weeks old, Amanda was seven years old and Nick was ten. Now look at them….. Nick is 17, Amanda is 14 (notice the side bangs) and our baby is 7 years old.

 

This is Wrigley, our beloved dog who has never met a stranger, and has never missed an opportunity to nudge a guest in the crotch and ask for a belly rub. This is Wrigley….this is love…….Happy Birthday!!