Guess Who...

One of these girls won the local Christmas coloring contest. They were in the same age category. Can you guess which one is the crafty coloring connoisseur (aka: this year's winner)?

Rewind: Pre-Christmas Festivus

Let's go back, just briefly, to before the ripping and tearing, before the pre-Christmas Drama.

I just wanted you to have a quick feel of the Christmas Festivus here at the Seriously, Though household.

There was popcorn stringing...



And tree decorating...



And gingerbread house making...


And reindeer food sprinkling...

Ho! Ho! The Big Guy Arrived...

I have a bazillion photos to share from the Christmas Festivus. There was the making of the gingerbread house, the stringing of the popcorn, and the singing of the carols (which has caused Kate to believe that we should knock on random strangers' doors and sing Christmas songs loudly, any time of the year). Please forgive us if we show up at your house in the coming months (and please clap loudly and yell bravo after we conclude our version of Hark the Harold Angels Sing...because, you know, it makes the wee ones happy).

Here's just a brief snippet from Christmas morning. It was fun. Not as fun as last year. There was a tired and cranky four-year-old. There was a mama who was expecting a little more excitement and enthusiasm from two certain red heads. There was a man who didn't laugh as loudly as one might expect when he opened his brand new Batman underwear. I'm just sayin'...he should have been exstatic about such a gift, don't you think?

But all in all, it was a happy, joyful, relaxing Christmas morning, complete with a visit from Pappy and Grammy, and a breakfast of pancakes and bacon.

Pre-Christmas Drama...

There was a little drama before Christmas this year and it wasn't the normal last minute shopping, wrapping, what-the-heck-should-I-buy-Aunt-Sally type of drama. I mean, there was definitely that kind of drama and that kind of drama I can handle. I think best when I'm up against a deadline. But the kind of drama that came our way this year, well, let's just say that I was not prepared for it.

There was a seemingly healthy man in our household who was having chest pains when he took a deep breath. And since there's only one man in our household, that pretty much narrows it down for you. Steve works at a hospital and so it's pretty easy to get some basic tests run if he thinks he has a problem. You know...a random x-ray to check for a broken finger after a karate incident or a quick EKG to make sure his heart is beating in rhythm. It's a perk of the job. I prefer large bonuses and fancy conferences in sunny Florida myself, but last week I was happy that Steve had access to the random diagnostic test.

In response to his chest pain, Steve's coworkers ran a few tests that showed all was normal with his heart, but he just felt like something wasn't right. He went to his doctor, who told him that he probably had an inflammation and pulled a muscle. He gave him some special ibuprofen and sent him on his way. When the pain wasn't gone the next day, Steve asked a doctor that he works for to run a blood test. When the test came back abnormal, the doctor gave him an order for a CT to make sure he didn't have a blood clot in his lung (pulmonary embolism...scary stuff). Nobody really thought Steve had that, because his symptoms just didn't really sound like it, but they all wanted to be sure that he was okay.

Unfortunately, our insurance wouldn't give him the immediate thumbs up to cover the test, so Steve decided to come home that night. In the car on the way home, he just prayed that if he needed the test, that it would all work out and if the insurance company didn't approve it, that meant he didn't really need it anyway. The minute he pulled in the driveway, the phone rang. The insurance company approved the test and he was to come back to the hospital immediately. Two hours later I got a phone call that he was in the ER and he had at least one and probably two blood clots in his lungs. God was on top of things that night (as He always is, huh?).

They repeated the test and Steve had a blood clot in each lung. By the time I got to the ER, Steve was antsy and anxious to get out of there. He still had his sneakers on and refused to lay down and relax. The doctor came to tell him that he was being admitted and that he was hoping he might be out in a few days, but it could be up to a week.

Christmas was only three days away and Steve assured me that he would not be spending Christmas in the hospital. He also told me that it was 10 p.m., he hadn't eaten, and he needed a bacon cheeseburger, stat (in his kindest, sweetest voice)! Obviously, he was not too worried about the whole thing (as I ran to Hardees and then delivered the contraband burger to his room).

I, on the other hand, was about to hyperventilate and fall flat on the floor (which I have been known to do on rare occassions such as this) at the thought of my husband with a blood clot in his lung. The doctor told us that Steve's blood clot was not what they call "the widow maker" (which is just barely reassuring) and that he needed to have his blood thinned a bit to clear things up.

Pulmonary embolism. Widow maker. Blood thinners. Not exactly what I expected to be talking about three days before Christmas. I couldn't get to the hospital the next morning because I had to do some things with the girls, but my awesome husband asked the pulmonologist to call me at home to discuss his health. I can only imagine what Steve told him about me (although I suspect the words, crazy. worrywart. wife. were probably in there somewhere).

The pulmonologist told us that Steve is considered a spontaneous clotter. They are testing for a genetic cause (which would then mean that the girls would be tested as well). But for now, they really thought this was a random occurance, which (insert hyperventilating on my part here) could occur again at any time in the future. We have to discuss long term blood thinners (although Steve says he's made up his mind on that and will be not be continuing the medicine past four months). I haven't turned on my powers of persuasion concerning this subject, so we'll say the issue is unresolved. Thankfully, Steve was discharged the next night (taking blood thinners and complaining about the shots he has to give himself). We made it home (via Red Lobster, because apparently the hospital food just wasn't cutting it).

So yeah...he's fine, but I'm not so sure about me. I could have done without the pre-Christmas drama (and I still panic every time he mentions that he doesn't feel quite right). Mostly, though, I am so, so grateful that he is well and was right beside me on Christmas morning.

Speaking of Christmas morning...here's a sneak peak:

Wayne turns 40...

Did you know that one of my college roommates married one of Steve's college roommates? They are the ones with the beach house. Beach house friends are good, right? Well Wayne (Steve's roommate) is turning 40 this month (old man) and so Lori planned a little wine tour weekend extravaganza. We had a great time (and came home with 7 bottles of wine). Can I just say that warm spiced apple wine in now my favorite????

Here's to Wayne's 40th...

Oh Christmas Tree...

This year we added a second tree to the Christmas festivus in our household. A real, live tree. Steve and I used to trek through the fields, saw in hand, searching for the perfect tree before we had kids, but it just sort of became too much to do with two little ones. Until this year. We went back to my favorite tree farm. The trees aren't super pretty and the service isn't anything to write home about. They hand you a rusty saw and tell you to have fun. But it's the same tree farm that I used to visit every year when I was a little girl. And you can pick any tree for $20. Sweet, huh?

We had the best time. We walked the entire place, searching for the perfect tree (approximately 7 ft. tall, not too fat, short needles). And we found it. I think it will be one of my favorite memories from this year's Christmas festivus.

The Festivus....

We're up to our ears right now in Christmas festivus. The house is a mess. There's popcorn all over the floor (and it's stuck there, thanks to some spilled apple juice). But we have a real, live tree with homemade popcorn strands on it. We have gingerbread houses on the table and lights on the trees. Kenny and Dolly are singing their old familiar Christmas songs as I type this, and there are Christmas cards hung on the wall (with tape, because we're classy like that). And I have not missed a single Hallmark Christmas movie. Yes...the festivus is in full swing, and despite the mess, I am loving it.

See this little girl's face? That's how I feel right now!

Now, I must shop. Because I'm behind. I think this year it's going to be "gift cards all around." If you're on my list and have a preference, feel free to let me know what kind of gift card you want!

All things fuzzy...

As promised, here are some pictures of all things fuzzy (plus a few extras from my birthday celebration). Thus far, 36 is warm and cozy (and a little moody and bluesy, thanks to Adele, which I have been singing at the top of my lungs in the car everyday). I have not set out on sexy bra shopping trip yet. And when I do, there will no pictures of said trip. Just sayin'.

36

I'm thirty six today. Crazy, huh? I mean I still have a rockin' body, can run five miles without getting winded, and look like I could be sisters with my 16-year-old niece.

And after you all pick yourselves up off the floor from that major laughing spell, we will continue....

Just so you know what kind of woman I have become, let me share my birthday gift list from Steve: two pairs of fuzzy socks; two pairs of fuzzy slippers; one super comfy, white, fuzzy blanket; and an Adele CD. That's a whole lot of fuzzy, don't you think (which, coincidentally, is a word that could be used to describe my legs right this instant)? And the worst part is that I loved every single thing. He knows me well and he did a great job picking gifts.

But let's be real. I'm getting old.

That's why I was thrilled when my Victoria's Secret $10 off coupon came in the mail today. A sexy (super padded, push up) bra is just what I need to make me feel young again. Who wants to join me on this "fountain of youth" shopping spree? I'll lend you a pair of fuzzy socks and fuzzy slippers. We can have fuzzy feet and sexy bras. There's nothing like fuzzy feet and sexy bras to make you feel young and hot.

And there you have it. Life at 36.

It doesn't get much better than this. Seriously, though. It doesn't. Thirty-six is pretty great. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go put on my fuzzy feet and curl up in my fuzzy blanket and sing a little "Rolling in the Deep" at the top of my lungs.


P.S. Pictures of all things fuzzy coming soon (except the legs. enough said about them).

Sneak Peak for Megan’s Family…

This week I photographed Megan’s family. Megan and I have known each other forever…since elementary school. At our 15-year-class reunion, Megan won an award for having the most kids –three with one on the way. Now the “one on the way” is a sweet, silly almost two-year-old boy, the perfect addition to make her family perfectly even (two girls, two boys). We laughed a lot at this family photoshoot. When I think of this family, I know I will always think of them laughing with each other!