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One Classy Holiday Letter 2019

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Happy Holidays!!! We hope you had a terrific 2019! We certainly did.

Determined to start the year off right, we vowed not to repeat last January’s theme of “Gluttony”. And by we, I mean me. I woke up the morning of January 2nd 2019, put down the garlic knots still clutched in my chubby little hands, and headed to the natural food market to pick up riced cauliflower & 99% fat-free turkey

While I was debating over which zucchini noodle might taste less like zucchini, Brian and the kids were hitting up every Acme within a 5-mile radius, in search of the elusive Most Stuf Oreo Cookies rumored to be making a debut. They found them. But in a lame show of dieting solidarity, Brian pledged to twist the top wafer off of every cookie and feed it to the dog instead of himself. I lost 4 pounds that month, Allie Oop gained 3, Brian lost 10.

In February, we bid adieu to all of our snow-loving neighbors and settled in to our yearly “tell me why we live here again” winter hibernation. With high speed internet and a full cord of 4-hr Duraflame Logs to keep us lukewarm, we had little reason to leave the house – except once, when the numbers fell off our mailbox and threatened the promptness of our pizza delivery. Not owning snow gear (completely on principle), I dressed in 10 layers of my heaviest lightweight clothing and went out and fixed it. Upon returning, the family seemed genuinely surprised that I had survived the deadly 30 degree temps, as was I.

My fingers froze and I was forced to abandon the tools. But I retrieved them in the spring.

My fingers froze and I was forced to abandon the tools. But I retrieved them in the spring.

We reemerged in March. Ana started spring soccer, and Collin made the high school tennis team despite having never played before. Naturally, we assumed the team had fairly low standards, but it turns out he’s a pretty good player. Who knew. Brian was awarded a work incentive trip for two to the super fancy island resort of Kiawah Island, SC. And FYI, it’s pronounced key-a-wah, not kie-a-wah like I called it throughout the entire trip. Not one southerner corrected me. They were probably too perplexed over who let the classless Delaware Valley girl on the island. Ordering all those glasses of “wooder” couldn’t have helped my social standing.

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Before flying back to Philadelphia, we spent a night in Charleston. We absolutely loved the town, but the hotel…oh my. Judging by the artwork and décor, I’d say the designer of the Grand Bohemian Hotel in Charleston was on an extended acid bender. When we got to our room, located at the end of a disorienting hallway, I threw open the curtains and gasped. Our window was literally part of an indoor art gallery. Literally. There was no mention of this at check-in. The free continental breakfast, yes, but not this. I just sat on the bed stunned as hotel guests gathered around to watch Brian respond to work emails, no doubt wondering when “living art” became so mundane.

I know you think I’m exaggerating.

I. AM. NOT.

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And can we just zoom into the room and acknowledge the evil painting overlooking our bed…

Home Sweet Home

Home Sweet Home

For Spring break, we packed up the car and headed south to catch a Disney Cruise out of Port Canaveral, FL. Between the stops along our route and the cruise ports, it was an eventful trip. We ate in Savannah, shopped in Hilton Head, visited Ron Jon in Cocoa Beach, trampolined in Cozumel, swam with stingrays in the Caymans, zip lined in Jamaica, went to the Disney water park in Orlando, walked the boardwalk in Jacksonville, and had Easter dinner in a Lumberton, North Carolina hotel room, because nothing says “Christ is Risen!” like a McDonalds Happy Meal and gas station wine.  Ana turned 10 during that awesome trip, yet somehow felt cheated out of a birthday party.

On Easter, they should call it a Hoppy Meal

On Easter, they should call it a Hoppy Meal

When May arrived, we could almost taste the summer. I began working on my 2019 margarita recipe, Brian bought a new copper mug for his Moscow Mules, Collin returned to work at Candy Kitchen, and Ana finally got us to throw her a birthday party at the Delaware Humane Association. I’m proud to say we returned home without adopting an animal. When your dog destroys your lawn and your cat considers her litter box to be more of a suggestion than a requirement, your heart tends to harden.

In June, Collin and I took an 8-hour water safety course at the local Fire Hall and walked out with our Boating Certificate. During those 8 hours, we received exactly zero instruction on how to actually drive a boat, but thanks to a slide show on life preserver buoyancy, we can now walk confidently into any boat rental place and high-speed a 25 footer out of there within minutes. You know what that course really taught me? The ocean is vast, and brimming with clueless boaters like us.

By July, with the kids out of school for the summer, we were living full time at our beach house, The Ship Show. The weather was always warm, the sun was always high, Ana was always bored, Collin was earning coin at Candy Kitchen, and Brian, myself, & the dog enjoyed cocktails every evening on the deck.

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Seriously, come 5 o’clock, Allie will spit out any ice cube that wasn’t soaked in premium Grey Goose. It’s the damnest thing.

A Muttgarita

It was more of the same in August, until the last week when it was time to return up north. Booo. We packed up our summer clothes, cleaned out the refrigerator, and put the kayaks away. Collin said goodbye to his Candy Kitchen manager, who then gifted him with the traditional and always appropriate “Thank You for Your Service” 6-inch switchblade. Watching him use the lawnmower makes me nervous, but thanks for the spring-loaded knife, Susan.

In September, Ana entered 5th grade and Collin became a sophomore. Ana started with a new soccer team, where she’s absolutely thriving! Collin joined Varsity Football where he, unfortunately, faced many physical setbacks throughout the season. He sprained his ankle, dislocated his finger, bruised his kidney, and somewhere in one of those waiting rooms, contracted pink eye. But he never gave up. He showed up to practice every day, even the weeks he couldn’t play, doing whatever he could to help his team. As Brian always says, “There’s no ‘I’ in TEAM.”  But there is an M & E, so that’s a dumb saying.

Just one of the many medical establishments we frequented this fall.

Just one of the many medical establishments we frequented this fall.

In October, Collin turned 16 and got his learner’s permit. I was a nervous wreck, still am, but the breakneck speed at which he takes dangerous turns suggests he’s a very confident driver. And when he asks, “Which one is the brake again?” and revs the accelerator to narrow down the choices, I remind myself that our medical deductible has been met, so out-of-pocket expenses won’t be a concern again until January 2020. Also, I started drinking more.

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November was a very exciting month for both Ana and Collin’s teams. Ana’s soccer team finished first place in their division, and Collin’s football team made school history! Prior to this season, his football team was one of the lowest ranking schools in the state, but under the leadership of a new and inspirational coach, they ended the season 10-2 and made it all the way to the semi-finals of the state playoffs! *I had to ask Collin these details because I’m not very sportsy, hence the ME in TEAM.

We’ve been very busy this December. Not so much with Christmas (thank you, Amazon Prime), but with squirreling away non-perishables & DVRing episodes of HGTV’s Caribbean Life, preparing for the long winter ahead. If you happen to see us out and about between January and March, odds are we’re either foraging for food or seeking medical treatment. Come say hello, we’d welcome the human interaction.

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As this year is coming to a close, we want to say thank you for being a part of our lives. Whether near or far, yesterday or yesteryear, you are always in our hearts. May your 2020 be filled with an abundance of love, laughter, health, and happiness.

Love,

Brian, Kim, Collin, and Ana

Weekend in Crappy Pics: Labor Day at the Beach

 

You guys, I’m not exaggerating when I say that the ride to the beach was a disaster! Without going into too much detail (because certain family members would AND SHOULD be embarrassed by their behavior), let’s just say that it started with Ana screaming, escalated to others screaming, tapered off with a lot of crying, and ended with a mass silent treatment- everybody not talking to ANYBODY.

LET THE VACATION BEGIN!

Here are a few highlights:

Miniature Golf

Miniature golf began like every other fun-filled family activity, with smiles and good intentions.

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Then, like every other fun-filled family activity, it quickly unraveled …

ana golf mad

It could have been her ball was the wrong shade of pink, or that I opened her water bottle even though she’s “…A KINDERGARTNER NOW AND NOT A BABY!”  I can’t remember, I just know that we decided to ignore her, hoping she’d get out of her funk.

It was somewhere around hole #12 that I no longer sensed her intense anger trying to ignite my body with the heat of a thousand suns. In fact, I felt nothing but a cool breeze- and that’s how I knew she was gone.

Panicked, we quickly spread out in a familiar and often executed Search & Rescue Arc Formation, sweeping the perimeter and conducting a thorough search as we returned to home base.

At  approximately 1:07 pm, she was found in a roped off area, sitting on a mushroom and contemplating her awful, unfair life.

ana on a mushroom

Lunch Date

My mother-in-law was kind enough to take the kids to the pool so Brian and I could go on a romantic lunch date….apparently with this lady.

lady reading

OMG! The moment we were seated, this lady turns towards me, leans into our table likes she’s about to tell me a secret, and starts reading a book! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I’d rather hear the secret.

At one point, our table cloth interfered with her pages.

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Do these things happen to other people or do I unknowingly cast some kind of crazy net?

Tennis

Brian’s mom had a tennis date with 2 other players and Brian offered to play as the 4th. He then proceeded to talk smack to his 70 year old competitors, throwing comments like “I’m going to run circles around you!” and “Bring it on, old man!”  His competitiveness has no limits…or tact.

Not so secretly, I was hoping they’d kick his ass, proving that you can’t judge a book by its cover and that age is just a number and all that crap. Unfortunately, he was terrific.

Brian tennis

The Bay

We decided to forgo the Labor Day beach crowd and drove to the bay.

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“Hey, this place is great! Why don’t we come here more often? Wait, what’s that smell?”

If you look behind Brian, you’ll notice a pile of dead and decaying horseshoe crabs who had washed on the shore to mate…then die.

Prehistoric ‘sex on the beach”

horseshoe crabs

Funland on the boardwalk

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The blur of this picture captures the way Funland makes me feel- chaotically crazed. In fact, I picture Hell as one long carnival ride line, teenagers pushing and shoving while little kids lick rusty railings and drip ice cream on my feet.

But then I look at this face and think “It’s all worth it.”

photo 2 (2)…and then I step in vomit.

On The Way Home

Someone mentioned the word “nuts”, someone else thought they said “donuts”, and suddenly we were using the gps to track down the best donut shops in Dover, Delaware- thus, the 2014 “Fatty Detour” was born.

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*Did you know there’s a Dunkin Donuts almost every 2 miles?

PARASITE PARENTING at the beach

Every summer, I offer up this short tutorial on “Parasite Parenting” as a way of giving back to my community. And by “my community”, I mean other exhausted parents.

After you’ve had your “AH-HA! Kim, you’re a genius!” moment, make a point to share this with every parent you know – then pat yourself on the back for joining my “Lazy Humanitarian” club.

 

Parasite Parenting at the Beach

It’s summertime, and for many families that means a trip to the beach. Sadly, taking young kids to the beach is about as relaxing as having a cavity filled while getting a Brazilian bikini wax on sunburnt skin.

Well, last year I said “Enough is enough!” but they kept screaming anyway. So this year, I’ve decided to put my psychology degree to good use by creating a beach environment that allows for the style of parenting I like to call “Parasite Parenting.”

What exactly is Parasite Parenting? It’s weaseling your kids (the parasites) into another family’s fun (the host), while you sit by and do nothing  but watch and relax!

Taking your children to the beach this summer? READ THIS and learn how Parasite Parenting can make it a day of relaxation!

Here’s how it’s done…

 

Step 1. Location, Location, Location

Choosing the right spot on the sand is crucial for creating an afternoon of lackadaisical parenting.

Things to look for in an ideal location:

– Sit right next to or behind a landmark (i.e. Lifeguard Stand, “Danger” sign, or one of those really obnoxious sun tents that could double as a homeless shelter in the off season). Point these out to your kids so they’ll have an easier time finding you when their host family leaves. And mark my words, they will leave when they realize what’s happening.

-Always choose to sit near a family that is digging a hole. Whether they’re digging to China or digging a hole to drop a body in later, it doesn’t matter. It just needs to be a hole that your child will wander into and want to stay in for the long haul. However, it’s very important that the hole is being dug by the father and his children, not the mother. It’s been my experience that fathers start a hole and then become obsessed with making it bigger and bigger, deeper and deeper. They have a stick-to-it-ness that mothers don’t. I think it’s some sort of vagina-envy-but-with-a-hole thing.

*Side note: today’s father disappeared underground and only came up when he found a blue crab and bones of questionable origin. The kids were fascinated by both.

 

Step 2. Send in Supplies

Drop off crackers, gum, juice boxes, shovels, buckets, and cool sand toys at the edge of the hole – basically help your kids set up shop so that they have no reason to come back before the sun goes down. On your way back to your chair say to the dad “Great Job! I’ll be over here on my iPhone looking up Guinnessworldrecords.com for the deepest beach hole. I’ll let you know what I find. Though the internet has been really slow today. Weird.”

 

Step 3. Maintain an Appearance of Effort

If the other family gets a whiff of your shirked parental duties they’ll shut your kid out. They’ll claim it’s because they want to spend “quality time” alone with their own children, but really they’re just jealous of your genius. To avoid this you have to do a bit of work. But don’t worry, this can be carried out between martini refills and chapters of your Fifty Shades of Grey.

Do the following:

– Every 30 minutes, approach your child and spray sunblock on him/her while saying, “Honey, why don’t you come back to our blanket and brush up on math problems, or maybe snack on some edamame?”
*If your kid follows you back then I can’t relate to you- and I bet we’re not friends.

– You MUST wave to the other parents at least once, shrug, and mouth the words “she loves you”, making sure to follow it with a “Yikes, I’m so sorry” look.  If they don’t return it with an, “Oh, no problem” shake of the head then you’ve screwed up somewhere. Revisit steps 1 & 2.

 

By following the above steps you should be able to read a book, play UNO, get a tan, or brush up on your bartending skills, all with little interruption. That reminds me of my last point…pack drinks in a quality thermos as it’s vital that you keep your beverages ice cold. I can’t stress this enough! Sure, a quality thermos costs more than a repurposed Turkey Hill Iced Tea container but it’s worth the investment. No one wants to drink a warm margarita while watching another mom plead with your child to stop throwing sand in her eyes- it’s a buzz kill.

Tips for Tuesday- Don’t get stuck entertaining other people’s kids.

 

Remember the tip where I told you how to become a parasite parent on the beach, cleverly arranging to have another family entertain your children while you relax? Remember? That was some good advice, wasn’t it? Well guess what…karma’s a real bitch.

 

I did everything right, I planted us right next to the lifeguard, told Ana that sharks would eat her if she went in above her ankles, and found a dad digging a hole with his kid. Now if you’ve read my Parasite Parenting post, you know that the most important of these 3 is the dad digging a hole, so I was super excited. I could practically taste my margarita and see the last chapter of my book.

So as we were setting up shop, I was eyeing the dad and his kid, looking for an opening (ie. “Oh look Ana…she’s your age/has the same shovel as you/is breathing. Go say hi!”) when I noticed that his daughter was somewhat standing and sorta wiggling around…she appeared to be struggling. Hmm.

So I let Ana continue with her “sand angels” (what a mess) while I tried to figure out what was going on. A few seconds later, another little girl came over and the dad said “She’s stuck in the sand! Do you want to be stuck in the sand too?!” I looked closer and sure as shit, he had buried his kid up to her knees, and the tide was coming in!

DAMN YOU, HOLE DIGGING DAD!!! Why did you have to go and screw this up for me?! First of all, I don’t feel comfortable letting you bury my kid while the ocean washes over her and B) Even if I did, I already told her that sharks would eat her if she went in above her ankles. You’re so selfish, you make me sick!

And so I set down my lonely book and interacted with her…

She was thrilled with the attention.

 

Eventually, that family moved out (probably headed to family therapy because the daughter has trust issues) and another moved in.

Again, dreams were crushed.

Meet little Torie…

That’s right, WE entertained Little Torie. Not only that, but I fed her some crackers and she kept coming back like a damn city pigeon. Oh, and she demanded that I replenish the pool water every time it got too sandy. *With all the sand being thrown, and her using it as a bathtub and possible potty, it got sandy a lot.

 

So today’s tip is just an extension of my Parasite Parenting tip. But these are ways to AVOID becoming the host family:

1. Refrain from bringing out any novel sand toys until you’re certain there are zero kids in the area. This includes, but is not limited to, mermaid dolls, inflatable pools, trucks, balls, large shovels, and rafts.

2. NEVER EVER attempt to build a sand castle in the presence of other children.

3. Leave ALL of your food at home. Walk up to the boardwalk for snacks, but don’t bring them back to your blanket.

4. Appear irresponsible by making statements like “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on them. Losing kids is no longer my “thang”. Hahahaha. But seriously, I’m more careful now.”

5. and obviously, NEVER dig a hole.

 

Sadly, I’m sure I’ll be adding to this list as the summer goes on. Please feel free to leave me a comment with any other helpful tidbits you can think of, I’d really really really appreciate it!

 

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