Merry Christmas

What Shawn and I did Christmas day…

What Norman did Christmas day…Happy Holidays!

Love,
Team DeBoer

Caution: Cynicism Ahead

Without really realizing it… I've slowly morphed into a scrooge this holiday season. Things are just not going my way. At first it was just the purchase of new windows. Exciting right? Well yeah except it forced us into foregoing Christmas presents this year in order to save for the second half of that ginormous payment. Shortly after that, I totally bit it going down our front steps. Damn near busted a bone. Graceful. Next, I put a dent in the Camry. I just backed up, without looking, and ran right into the only parked car on our street. Genius. Then, my hours got cut at work. I'm forced to work only 32 hours/week. To top that off, our health benefit costs went up. Wonderful. Good thing I have a sugar daddy for now, but still. The day after that, I went to the dentist and found out I have to have three, THREE cavities filled. Technically it's two and a replacement of a silver filling but they also suggested I get sealants. Super. To top it off, the top strand of lights on our Christmas tree have died. Ironically, the star at the top is still lit. That means there's a bad bulb on that top strand. I went to Target to buy a replacement strand. Plugged them in. Didn't work. Great. I'm officially two bad events away from a country western song. I hate country western songs. Bah! Humbug!

Snow Birds

If I'm correct, I believe this is what you call the population that heads south for the winter? If so, Shawn and I have officially become snow birds. We've migrated a whole 10 feet south. We've crossed our hallway and now occupy the guest bedroom. This will be our new habitat until winter is over or until our new windows are installed. Whichever comes first. It took me 10 minutes to move the TV, DVD player (Sony Playstation) and the good 'ole VCR. Our new bedroom is MUCH warmer, smaller, the vent isn't covered by the bed and it even has a nice reading lamp. Two years ago we put plastic on the windows. Last year we rearranged the furniture in our bedroom to move the headboard off the wall with the two windows and to uncover the vent. This year, we just packed up and moved. Next year… new windows!

The Normster Turns Fourster!

This past Saturday, December 5th, 2009, our first born turned the big 0-4. That's 28 in human years to you! To celebrate the big baby's birthday, he received pancakes for breakfast, a BBQ bone for dessert, a mid-afternoon walk, lots of love and belly rubs and a kong full of peanut butter to seal the deal before the day was done. In his old age, he is getting much whiter around the face and much more… um, relaxed? He still barks and pesters and wants attention as much as the next dog, but he's content with a shorter walk and sleeps most of the day away in his bed (see photo below). He's currently carrying a little holiday weight so he prefers not to talk about it right now. He's perfectly content with his belly rolls thank you very much. He is still, by far, the cutest dog we've ever seen. Not the brightest light in the harbor, but by far the cutest!

Below is what he looked like after he finished draining his kong… he was in a peanut butter coma.
He looked a little intoxicated and didn't move an inch when I got out the camera. A completely happy puppy none-the-less.

New Meaning of Empty

In an earlier post, I eluded to the fact that we like to get our fridge and pantry down to pert-near nothin' before we cave and buy groceries. This past weekend might have been the mother of all emptiness. So much so that we decided to clean the fridge. This was the first time since we moved into the house we tackled this project so I'd say it was long overdue. Below is the evidence.

Take special note of the MGD golden can on the top shelf, left side. This is a friendly neighborhood game Ruggles Street likes to play. Short story goes like this: someone left this can at a gathering at Woodruffs and it never got drank. No one knows how old it is but suffice it to say, it's no longer prime for consumption. Therefore, the goal is to bring it to a social gathering of neighbors and sneak it into the next victims fridge without them knowing. The gathering has to be 3 or more households and the host can't catch you in the transition, otherwise, you have to take it back. We've been going along now for quite some time so I pity the day we make someone drink it. Although there are magically two cans now so beware… double the trouble. That's secretly why we keep our fridge so low… so we can keep tabs on the golden can! Damn you Woodruff cheaters!

Corn-to-the-Stubles

Here are some of my favorite little people, captured from our latest visit to Virginia.

Ainsley Lee Cornstuble

Natalie Marie Cornstuble
Quinn Paul Cornstuble

Venting

We just returned from a MN Vikings game… yes, we've converted. We've lived here for going on six years now so we feel no remorse for becoming fans of the Vikings and yes, Mr. Wrangler himself. And besides that, the tickets were free. Back to my point. I realize every time I get to a professional sporting event the same feeling rings true for me. That is… I hate cheerleaders. I'm so sorry for anyone I offend but it's true; I hate cheerleaders. I don't see the point. The non-stop pom-pom twirling, the ditsy smiles, the head twirls, the stupid outfits, the goofy gestures. Is it wrong that I just want to punch 'em in the face? You know what else I hate? The wave. You know, the ridiculous crap that one section at a game always tries to start. It never fails. If the most interesting thing you can do at a game is participate in the wave, either you don't care about what you're watching and therefore shouldn't have spent the money, or your team sucks and isn't worth watching and you shouldn't have spent the money. Other then that, I love the atmosphere, love watching the sport and would love to sling-shot a water balloon at every cheerleader and every person who tries to start the wave. Now, is a sling-shot considered a weapon? And if so, how would I sneak one into the next game?

Favorite Pastime

A couple of weeks ago I took a trip to Virginia to visit my sister and her children and to help out while her husband is at sea on deployment (for the Navy). This trip marked the first time I flew, alone. It was a lot like flying with Shawn except I was free to do the thing I love to do the most: people-watch. I could sit in an airport (or mall or event) and watch people wander by all day long. I don't know why I have this fascination. I just do.

I like to evaluate people around me and try and decide what their stories are, what their personalities are, their backgrounds, their destinations. It's fascinating. This particular trip brought a host of characters. The most memorable was an older gentlemen with white hair halfway down his back. "Impeach Bush" was the saying on his hat and "Arrest Bush" decorated the front of his t-shirt. Still going strong into the next President's term. Now that's dedication.

Then there were the ladies from Wisconsin. I had a nice chat with them while waiting in line for my tickets and through security. The three of them were off to Arizona for a long, girls weekend. Why Arizona? I have no idea but the one I refer to as the spokeswoman was an elementary teacher. They were all teachers in fact but she was strikingly nice and polite. So much so that I felt the need to keep in close proximity of them for as long as possible. I hope they had a great trip.

One of my neighbors on the first flight was what I would refer to as a "hip grammaw." She was a petite little thing with perfectly curled and brushed white hair, held very firmly in place with lord knows how much hair spray. She wore bright red lipstick, dark eye makeup and tons of rings on her fingers. She was reading Dean Koontz and dawned impressive reading spectacles and a neck pillow at all times. She was one of those women who winks at you after she says something, smells refreshingly nice and you know will have a full stash of Kleenexes and/or gum if you need it.

Or course there was a whole slew of "typical" travelers. The lady carrying on the small dog who complained very loudly on her cell phone about the cost of flying with a dog the entire time until she boarded the plane. The guy who you guess might have been in the services back in the day. He had on a white t-shirt, a black (service) hat and an old, green, stretched and faded tattoo on his upper bicep. Most memorable? He had a handkerchief. Not just any handkerchief. The good ole blue ones with the funky white designs on it. I can't get over handkerchiefs. Blowing your nose over and over into the same article of clothing and then carrying it around with you? Ew. But that's a whole different blog.

Finally there were the "business travelers." I was waiting at the gate for my flight home from Virginia and happened upon a room full of business men. Not women, men. All dressed in button-down shirts, slacks and a computer and/or cell phone attached to them at all times. Obviously very busy, it was funny just to watch them and wonder what they were working on and what had brought them to this particular spot. I have to imagine the nostalgia of watching people or just being in an airport to fly somewhere new has worn off of them sometime ago. That's too bad. I hope to never be one of these travelers.

I was impressed with myself for initiating as much conversation as I did with complete strangers. Everyone knows that Shawn is the talker. I guess now I can start to understand his habit. While I sit quietly and make up stories about people, he just flat out talks to them and learns about them through their own words. I'll have to give it a try more often. If I hadn't on this trip, I wouldn't have met an individual from Pittsburg who had just returned from visiting a Navy flight carrier and who wouldn't stop asking me about my iPod Touch and Favre, once he found out where I was from. He reminded me of a teacher I know who has strings attached to his glasses, a face full of hair and who just sounds… intellectual and someone you'd want to have a conversation with.

Into The Second Decade - Part Three

I call this final installment: For Better or For Worse

Whether it's commiserating about our awesome hair…

Or enjoying each others sense of humor…

Or being a little shy…

Or celebrating with friends…

Or bringing in yet another New Year…

Or watching the Chiefs win…

Or watching the Chiefs destroy the 49ers…

Or watching the Chiefs get destroyed by the Bills…

…we have fun together. We enjoy each other's company and we're together for life. For better or for worse.

Life Lesson

I'd like to interrupt this three-part blog string I have going for an important message. Over the course of the last six months, I've learned a very simple, yet immensely important lesson. It just so happens to relate to marriage. I have discovered the quickest, easiest, simplest and 100% guaranteed way to get your spouse to apologize or admit they are wrong.

You admit you're wrong and apologize first.

In the grand scheme of things, who cares who says it first. In Team DeBoer's house, if I can get Mr. DeBoer to admit to anything or apologize for anything, I no longer care if it comes after mine. Isn't the whole point about resolving the issue? What's the point of a grudge? Who cares who says it first? You can sit and stew all you want but it takes a mighty big person to admit they're wrong and I guarantee if you're honest, if you're sincere, if you're invested, you will get what you want in the end.

P.S. Have no fear. I am not campaigning to be the next Dr. Phil. I am not going to make these life lessons a repeating blog. I have merely found this suggestion so quick, easy and helpful I wanted to share. I will, however, continue to comment on life lessons Shawn and I continue to learn whilst remodeling. Which, if you haven't noticed, is on hiatus while we pad the budget for new windows.