Christmas Day 2007. Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse in Puerto Rico. It’s me and Rob, Rob’s parents and his brother and sister in law. Rob gets up to go to the bathroom, and Russ, Rob’s brother, calls the waiter over. “It’s my brother’s birthday today,” he says, “so do you think I could have the waiters bring dessert with a candle in it and have them sing?”

The largest slice of cake any of us has ever seen arrives with a steak knife stabbed through it and a birthday candle in it. A group of waiters crowds around our table singing “Happy Birthday” at the top of their lungs, and everyone at the table joins in while Rob, whose birthday is in October, shakes his head and laughs.

This year, we were one night into our vacation when Rob got his brother back. We sang Happy Birthday to Russ on the outdoor patio of a seafood restaurant, and a year long score was settled. Russ, who was born in August, glared over his “birthday” candle and smirked, and we all knew it was war.

Night two was Rob’s “birthday”, of course, orchestrated by Russ again, and I assumed that was the end; they’d each gotten each other once this year. On night three, I had NO clue. None. Russ said afterwards that I looked like was “three minutes from peeing myself” because I was laughing so hard I started to cry and could barely pull it together long enough to blow out my candle. Even better, the enthusiastic waiters finished “Happy Birthday” and did a second verse in Spanish: Feliz Cumpleanos. I’m keeping the candle forever.

This is the family I married into.

Still sick.  Tonight, after a hot shower and a dose of meds I’m going to try to get out of the house for a while.  I need new laundry baskets, some no-kill mouse traps and a 2009 day planner.  Pretty exciting stuff, let me tell you.  I’ve spent some time today “Poloadroiding” some vacation photos.

As far as first weeks go, this one is pretty much the worst ever.

I am still unwell. The fever I had broke and returned again. I can’t breathe well, and I can’t hear out of my right ear. My lungs are on fire, my head is swimming, and my throat feels like someone shoved a molten steel wool sponge into it and left it there. I might be dying.

I am also prone to melodramatics.

If you need me, you’ll find me in bed for a third day.

I am so sick.

New Years eve, in the morning, I slipped on my bathing suit for the last time in a long time, threw on a gauzy skirt and tank top over it, and padded down to breakfast with the family in my flip-flops. Afterward I slathered myself with sunscreen and collapsed into a chair poolside in the hot sun, trying to soak as much of it in before I went back to New York, and the cold, and the snow. I went swimming with Rob’s super adorable nine year old nephew and his mom, and floated around on a blow up raft with my feet dangling in the water.

It took forever for our plane to pull up to the gate, and forever to get our bags and forever to get to our car. By the time midnight came around, we were almost home, and we listened to the countdown on the radio. Rob pulled over on the deserted side street, and we kissed quickly, said “Happy New Year!”, and continued on.

The dogs jumped all over us and we kissed and patted them all hello. It was a few minutes before either of us realized something was off: the furnace. The thermostat read 49 degrees, although the heat was set to 70. We called the landlord, the super and 311, but no help came until the morning. It was, literally, a “three dog night”, with the five of us huddled together as the temperature in our bedroom dropped even further.

We waited for hours the next day while they tried to fix it before we gave up and packed everyone up to go to Rob’s parent’s house. We eventually got a phone call saying it was all done and the heat was working again. We waited until after dinner to give it a chance to warm up and then drove home again. We we arrived, it was as cold as ever and the furnace still wouldn’t kick on.

“We’ll be back in the morning” we were told. “Something must have gone wrong.”

Yeah, no kidding.

“I can’t spend another night in this cold!” Rob declared, and I agreed. We packed up again and drove the hour back to Rob’s parent’s house, and the next morning, it was finally warm in our apartment.

Now we are so, so sick. Rob spent most of Friday laying in bed, full-on miserable, while I slumped on the couch feeling “not so great”, but ok. Carissa had come over to collect her stuff from house sitting, and we watched movies. Saturday I couldn’t get up until well after the sun had gone down again. I spent the day mostly awake, reading, and, at one point, getting attacked by a giant house fly that had survived January by living in my bedroom. He was HUGE, and he wasn’t going down without a fight. It was horrible. He kept flying into my face, and tried to steal my sandwich.

We have mice, too. I saw them, and not a “glimpse” of a mouse either; I stood by my stove and watched them boldly play on top of the burners and dirty plates and cups: their own mousey jungle gym. They didn’t notice me if I didn’t move, so I stood quite close to the stove, and watched them for a while. If they weren’t infesting my house with their mouseness, I would think that they are pretty cute.

I tried to set traps for them involving complicated series of wooden spoons, boxes, trap doors, cardboard tubes and soda bottle caps, but nothing worked and I kept being outsmarted. The score currently stands Mice: 2, Amber and Rob: 0 (call me a granola hippie douche bag if you want, but I’m not breaking their necks with normal traps). We’ll keep trying. When I catch them, I have plans to insert them exactly where they belong in the Circle of Life: I’m giving them to Bra the cat. Bra is pretty cool. He has gone from running away at the mere sight of me to scurrying out of the way cautiously and watching me from a distance, to not moving at all as I brush by, to letting me stand near and look at him from a few feet, to cautiously sniffing my outstretched hand, to letting me pet him with one finger behind an ear, gently, and just for a second before he gets too scared. We’re growing fond of one another.

In 2009 I resolve:

1. to walk the dogs a few times a week. They have a yard to play in, but sniffing around the neighborhood is good for their little dog minds, and they can use the exercise.

2. to sweat the small stuff more. I have the reverse problem everyone else seems to have. I let too much little stuff go, and it tends to add up. Examples: “eh, that sink of dishes can wait until tomorrow.” (and now we have mice, and I am so ashamed.) or “It’s ok if my car isn’t perfectly neat. It’s just a few Snapple bottles!” and now I can’t put my feet down in the car without stepping all over stuff.

3. to not eat refined sugar. Unless it’s my birthday. Or a wedding, because it’s bad luck not to eat the wedding cake. Or if someone made a really special dessert, like when Jen makes peanut butter frosting.

4. The fourth one is private! But it’s a good one.

Happy New Year!

Wow, what a year 2008 was! Let’s review, shall we?

In one of those moves that was considered foolish by just about everyone we know, we adopted a third dog that taught us great lessons about patience and love. There were weeks of surgeries and creams and sprays to make him healthy, and I had a brief moment of, “What the hell am I doing?!”, but it was quickly overcome with vast amounts of love for the little guy who is getting sweeter every day.

We attempted to sell our house, and failed to do so. We also attempted to buy an apartment in Brooklyn, but gave up after months and months of hunting, deciding instead to buy my grandmother’s house (meaning we now own two houses, neither of which we live in). I moved out of Connecticut for the first time in my life; we moved to Brooklyn in a rented apartment. I heard gun shots that resulted in death, and saw the dead body out of my front window. This traumatized me for a bit, but left no lasting ill effects.

I got an iPhone, and wondered how I lived without one before. Also, (unrelated), I spent nearly three weeks with Elton John’s “Benny and the Jets” stuck in my head.

We all watched the Democratic race with great interest as folks dropped off one by one, and then we watched Hillary and Barack duke it out until he final concession, and it was the most fascinating political process I have ever lived through. (With the election between Obama and McCain, it seems so long ago!) Also, I finally realized that there was a name for the set of political beliefs I’ve held for ages and had been told were foolish for my entire life by both Democrats and Republicans, and I met other people who felt like me, and it was comforting to know that I am not crazy, or, if I am, I am, at least, not alone and am, in fact, in pretty good company.

Shortly after we moved for Rob’s job, he lost it, in the single worst set of coincidental events, like, ever.

I got to see Canada for the first time, and I made a ton of great internety friends who then came to our house a few weeks later for an entire weekend. It was fun and exhausting and I can’t wait to see them again later this month. They are good people.

I walked five miles in a charity event with Rob’s family, and we called ourselves Team Soup!!! and had matching sweatshirts made. This was my greatest physical accomplishment.

There were two weddings, both Jewish although only one was for family. I had a great time at both, and cried during both, too.

At the end of 2008 we went to Puerto Rico again with Rob’s family and I got to bond with everyone, which is cool. Rob’s older brother is just the right mix of obnoxious big brother joking and hilarious stories about college, and his sister is great; I loved hanging out with her and occasionally ditched Rob to do so. I like watching her parent; it’s good to have a sister who’s a mom I want to be like. Speaking of which, no baby for me, despite the thought crossing my mind a time or two, but that’s totally ok. I’m excited for new babies born to dear friends, and new babies “in the oven” that are due this year.

I wish you all the best in 2009. I’ll share my resolutions tomorrow, which I hardly ever take seriously, as MY new year starts on March 13. I do them though. If you made some, too, let me hear them!

Greetings from Puerto Rico!

I thought getting wi-fi would be easier than it has been, so I didn’t bother posting the “I’ll be away for a few days” message. Turns out it’s available in the rooms for $15 a day, which I’m NOT paying, but there’s free wi-fi in the lobby of the resort we’re staying in. Because of this, it is only now, after my first full day of basking in the sun, that I’ve had a moment to come sit and type away.

It’s beautiful here: 80-something and sunny, and with palm trees and blue water and shit. Tropical stuff. It’s great. There’s a part of me that is so, so heavy, though. It was just about a year ago, here in Puerto Rico, that I first laid eyes on Tino, broken and abandoned. It was the single most painful moment of my life; he absolutely broke my heart.

Of course his story has a happy ending so it was worth the pain, and through coming in contact with all the people that helped save him I have learned so much about the plight of dogs here in PR. (Oh gawd, I hear you thinking, there she goes again.)

I am glad to know, but I’m disgusted with the Puerto Rican government for letting this go on, and for their callous treatment and dismal standards of conduct in regards to these animals. I actually feel a bit guilty being here supporting the tourism business (although I’m not paying for this trip, and, in the end, family unity won out).

Of course, then I think: who says things like, “I’m disgusted with the Puerto Rican government?” Me, apparently. I don’t talk about it too much because it’s impossible to do without sounding like a total jackhole, but learning what I know changed me forever. I am glad to be informed; on the other hand it is a horrible thing to be informed of.

Speaking of dogs, I miss the trio terribly. I’m having fun, I love Rob’s family, but I miss them so badly. Carissa is watching them and house sitting for me, and I sent her three or four excessively long emails detailing how to feed them and care for them. I’m a nervous mother! I stopped short of writing down the lyrics to “The Song for Chubby Dogs”, which I sing to them daily, but I considered it. (I’m not kidding.) They can live without the song for a few days, I’m pretty sure. (Oh, I hope! Maybe I should call her and sing it, so she knows the melody…?)

A lot of people asked if we are going to bring home a fourth dog this time around. We’re not, we have a lease with a landlord that had to be talked into accepting three dogs, but if we still lived in a house… maybe. I’d be tempted to snag one of these little girls. They look like Matty Minis!

I don’t know if I’ll be blogging anymore while I’m here. You can keep up with my twitter feed if you miss me, and I’ll be posting flickr photos when I can, mostly via mobile uploads with my iPhone.

If I don’t check in before then, happy New Year!

I went to Jen’s mom and dad’s house last night for a Christmas Eve dinner. I want to be her parents when I grow up. Her dad cracks these absolutely horrible corny jokes that make everyone groan and laugh, and her mother rolls her eyes and sighs, “Oh, Bill.”, but you can tell that she’s amused, too.

They’re the kind of house that has special dishes just for Christmas, and we got to drink out of crystal goblets. Everything was all cozy and Christmasy.

This morning we stayed in bed and let the dogs pile in, too. We skipped the gifts this year, but we went out to dinner in Manhattan and saw the tree at Rockefeller Center and the Macy’s window displays. Tomorrow we leave for vacation until the 31st.

For the first time in my life I hung out with JUST my husband on Christmas, and it was so nice. My family kind of disjointed and no one seemed to be doing anything, but it turned out to be alright. We had fun together.

I hope your Christmas was good, too.

Stop slackin’! Get to crack-a-lackin’!

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Amazon Gift Card, $5 - $5000
You have two immediate options for this one: you can print it out right away, or you can email it for instant delivery. Some people argue that gift cards are SO last minute and thoughtless, but I don’t. I’ve always said that a gift certificate is giving the gift of shopping.

Amazon has everything, so you don’t have to worry about whether they’ll find something they like. An Amazon gift card is like a gift card to the universe.

P.S. Dear Amazon marketing department, you can use that one. You’re welcome.

at amazon.com

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Winter Bark, $2 per pound (ish), depending

This is a super easy recipe, it’s pretty, and it’s yummy. If you’re running out to the grocery store, you can grab the ingredients if you don’t have them already. I vote adding pretzel pieces into the mix with the peanuts. Alternatively, you can take cracked up candy canes and sprinkle them on top. Bash the candy canes in a plastic bag and then put them in a collender to get rid of all the dust and tiny shards. Sprinkle the bits on top so the red and white colors show, and then put it in the fridge. Festive!

Since you waited last minute and don’t have time to buy matching packages, run around your house and grab shoe boxes, the boxes that oatmeal packets come in, cereal boxes, etc. Anything you can find. You’re RECYCLING! (Wahoo for positive spins!) Line them with parchment paper or wax paper, and tuck the bark in.

Get a paper grocery sack and cut the bottom off so you have one big long rectangular piece of brown paper. Wrap the box with it, backwards, so it’s just plain. (I am, of course, assuming that you’ve run out of wrapping paper at this late date, YOU SLACKER!) Tie with twine, old ribbons, or make a bow out of shopping bags. (Hint: Target bags are red and white, and the New York Times comes in a great blue for Hanukkah.)

at marthastewart.com

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Jingle Balloons, $18 or less
You can’t go to the mall today without wanting to lobotomize yourself, but the florist shouldn’t be so bad. Ask for a dozen red and green balloons, but before they’re blown up, stuff 50 cents worth of dimes into each of them. The result is a bouquet of Christmas colored balloons that jingle! This is perfect for someone too young to be jaded by the mild annoyance of pocket change.

Photo by my dear friend Chad who gets to hang out with three awesome ladies and a cool dog this Christmas.

from my own brilliant mind

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Salt Dough Ornaments, $1 or less
Two parts flour, one part salt, one part warm water. Mix, and you’re good to go, no waiting necessary. You can make shapes out of cookie cutters or form them free hand; through the years I’ve done a combo of both. Make a hole in the top for a ribbon, or do what Jen did with this one, which is take an ornament hook, bend it, and insert it into the top. You can use a cookie cutter to make an entire set of stars, bells or reindeer. Bake them on 325 until they’re dried out and let them sit for about an hour to cool before you break out the acrylics and paint them!

Package them in a candy box (you can just dump all the chocolates out first, and eat them while you paint. Score!)

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Printable Stationary, $4
The smarty-pants at Little Brown Pen have made it seriously easy for you to make sweet stationary sets by just adding the paper you have and printing them yourself. Once you order, the PDFs of the image you selected will arrive within 24 hours according to the site, but you can probably beg for a rush order.

Also available: printable calendars, which they recommend using card stock for.

at etsy.com
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The Gift of You, Free Dollars

What of yourself can you give someone else? Think about it. You can do something. Some ideas I’ve got: an offer to babysit, edit old home movies, convert old slides into digital files, set up a stereo system, make a months’ worth of meals for the freezer, take really beautiful portraits, clean out a garage, make cupcakes for a bake sale…

Write it down, slip it into an envelope, and present it with a smile.

Merry Christmas.