Smile....or not

My Dove candies were speaking to me today, and one of them made me chuckle right out loud. The inside wrapper said, "The best holiday decoration is a smile." Well isn't that sweet? Where do the Dove people come up with these? I think they should get together with the Snapple people, as well as Mr. Vitamin Water and write a book of deep thoughts. Maybe Jack Handy is available. He was always so witty.

*****

Anyway, I got to thinking about this little nugget of inspiration. Yes! The best holiday decoration really IS a smile! I'll buy that! But then my brain was overtaken by the Jeff Foxworthy standup that I had just seen, and I kept replaying a line from his act. "If people accuse you of lying through your tooth, you might be a redneck." This brings me to my little candy wrapper, and the melding of my thoughts. When might a smile NOT be the best holiday decoration? Here's what I've come up with...

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If you've been accused of lying through your tooth, your smile might not be the best holiday decoration.
If you have just eaten a lunch that consists of broccoli, spinach, and Oreo cookies for dessert, your smile might not be the best holiday decoration.
If "head gear" or "retainer" are in your dental vocabulary, your smile might not be the best holiday decoration.
If you have just chewed one of those cool red tablets to see how well you brush, your smile might not be the best holiday decoration.
If your favorite sport is hockey, your smile might not be the best holiday decoration.

*****

That's what I came up with. If you have others, I'd love to hear them. Maybe we can write to Dove and get a jump on next year's wrappers. In any case, I hope that your Christmas was decorated lavishly with many smiling faces (sans broccoli).

My Inspiration

My love with his loves:
Jack and The Tree
(All of which provide me with plenty to blog about!)

Blog Blockage...

The latest Ebay purchase

All week I've been trying to come up with a sharp, witty blog entry. To be honest, it has been a toughy. I've been feeling the effects of Blog Blockage, and I don't think this can be eased with Advil Cold and Sinus. Darn.

I suppose I could write about our latest tree topper fiasco. But really, who wants to hear me complain about how the hubby ordered a "star" for our tree on Ebay without telling me? I mean, do you really want to hear that he told me about this little purchase as I was sitting at the computer, desperately browsing through Facebook (and totally distracted)? Do you care that it happened to be the same star of wonder that a few days before I laughed out loud at? The tree topper that has a snazzy border of gold tinsel framing it? The tree topper that was "gently" used and sold in an estate sale? The one from 1970-something? The one that cost $9.99 with $6.00 shipping and handling? Didn't think so.

And I'm sure you wouldn't want to hear about how, when it was left on the stoop (a gift from God?) my dear husband tore through the cardboard box, threw the plastic Piggly Wiggly bags that cushioned this precious star on the floor, and was as giddy as Ralphie opening his Red Rider BB gun. Seriously. This isn't made up.

I couldn't leave out the fact that my wonderful husband said that this star was absolutely perfect, in great working order, except for the one burned out light. And I wouldn't even get into the details of the argument that ensued, because in my opinion, one blown light on a $17.oo, 30 something-year old, Charlie Brown looking Christmas star is one too many. Especially considering that my lovely beau jumped straight into the car to buy new lights to "re-twinkle" our twinkle-less topper. In my estimation that puts us at 20 total dollars, but who's counting?

I definitely wouldn't mention that when my husband said, "This star is really well made, I bet it lasts for a long time!" that my response was, "Yep, you're right, because it already has 30 years of lighting experience."

No, no, that blog post just won't do. It's one light short of a twinkle topper. I suppose I'll try again next week.

Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree, How Steadfast are Your Dumplings!

Pierogi Ornament
(also found on our Polish Christmas tree)

I'll Tell You a Tale of Two Bubble Lights

Bubble lights are highly under-rated. Not only do they twinkle, as all good Christmas lights should, but they also bubble. They bubble. Now, I may have been living under a rock for the past 29 years, but I didn't realize that these little globes of Christmas splendor actually heat up and boil the colored liquid inside. I suppose I thought that bubble lights were more of a magic trick or something. Maybe they were filled with soap bubbles? Bubble gum? I don't know. In any case, I was way wrong. And when I began dating JH, I was introduced to the true meaning of holiday lighting. Boy was I amazed. Converted, even. My world was changed over night.

Naturally we at the Herold household have bubble lights on our tree. Well, we have two bubble lights. We didn't want to get too out of hand.

Alright, alright, I know what you're thinking. Anyone who has spoken with me in the last few days knows that the last paragraph was written completely sarcastically. Because, when it comes to Christmas tree decorating, Mr. Herold does get a little silly. I mean, the man told me that he thought the 5 strands of lights on the (one) tree weren't enough. "Maybe I should go out and get another strand," he told me on Thanksgiving evening (we had already been to Meijer once that night buying lights. I was NOT going out there again). "Doesn't the top look empty?" Now, let me put it to you this way. If it were up to me, our tree would have three strands of clear lights, a bow on the top, and perhaps a few nice orb-shaped ornaments. That's it. This tree has strands of rainbow lights, big ones, small ones, and of course...bubble lights. I'm not even going to get into the amount of ornaments it has, because to be frank, most of them are not mine. Anyway, my delicate response was, "You must be crazy," and I went upstairs to decorate the banister with garland and poinsettia lights (ok, ok, maybe the hubby isn't the only one with a light obsession).

In all fairness, he was right. The top was a little bare. And the more I looked at that tree, the more I noticed it. Could we stretch the lights out? Maybe throw a snazzy strand of metallic garland on it and be done? Nope. So yesterday, we went out to buy a tree topper (maybe this would avert the eyes from our tree's bald spot?) We went to several great stores, but couldn't find anything that suited both of us. At one point the hubby picked out one that seriously reminded me of my grandma's Christmas decorations, which was a nice sentimental moment, but not what we were going for. Finally, at our last stop, we found something we both liked. A tin star, with ten tiny lights twinkling through (are you surprised?) We were both happy, and that was what was most important. We got home, put together our new purchase, and "OOooed" and "AAaahed" at how beautiful the tree looked, especially with that sweet new topper (that was the farthest thing from Polish that we could find, may I remind you). We smiled and went on our merry way. That is, until I heard, "Ah geez, we have a problem Jenny!" from the basement. Turns out our beautiful little star lasted all of twenty minutes before it blew it's fuse and busted. Guess what? The stinkin' star was Polish after all!

So here we are, our Polish Christmas tree with bubbling lights, a bald spot, and more ornaments than you'd want to imagine. And you know what? I absolutely love it.

For These Gifts, I am Truly Grateful

As a nice, long, Thanksgiving holiday winds to an end, I'm left with a little time to reflect on the things that make me thankful.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

A strong faith in God, our Heavenly Father...
A wonderful husband who I found by chance and share a beautiful life with...
Two parents who I adore and never want to disappoint...
3 sisters who I would not trade for anything in the world...
An extended family who has grown in love together, through happiness and sorrow...
A relatively "new" family of in-laws who make my life that much sweeter...
Friends, near and far, who will drop anything to lend a helpful hand (or caring ear)...
A "job" that is so much more than that...
Co-workers who are my friends first, partners second...
Students who make me smile every single day...
A house that provides me with shelter and comfort (and sometimes a little drama!)...
Jack, my buddy, who always keeps me company (and slobbers on the floor)...
Food that sustains me (and more!)...
The comfort I feel knowing that I am loved...
Health...
Happiness...

For all of these gifts, I am truly grateful.

Flapjacks and Jumping-jacks

I have a goal.

To be honest, I have many goals.
Most would fall under the category of "Not in your wildest dreams"
(i.e. become an award-winning author of children's books)
while the others fall into the category of "Well, if you got off of your lazy patoot..."
(i.e. have organized closet space in my humble abode).
Anyway, my latest, most pressing goal can be filed under the latter "lazy" category.
"What is the goal?" you ask.
Well...it is to kick my hubby's butt in the battle of
"Biggest Loser: Herold Edition."
This is a contest not for the faint of heart.
It means saying "Adios!" to the foods I love so much, and "Hola!" to the gym I am so keen to ignore.
It means abdominal crunches instead of Nestle Crunches.
It means jumping-jacks instead of flapjacks.
It means dragging my hind quarters into the cold November air
and trying, TRYING to run at least once around my block (without passing out).
Yuck.
This is my goal.
And, if in the process I lose somewhere in the vicinity of 20lbs...
well then, that would be another goal accomplished.

Happy 30th Kenny G.

*The Birthday Boy*

The End of an Era

Isn't this cool?

*****
7 years...wow.
The end of an era.
No more MHS volleyball for the Sliwa family.
What will the next 7 years bring?
*****

A Walk Down Memory Lane (and the Bump in the Road)

Recently I found my self reminiscing about "the good old days." I had reconnected with a couple of my friends from college, which prompted me to go through a few stacks of dusty old photos. While doing this, I realized that the phrase "the good old days" isn't exactly accurate. For one thing, those days weren't good...they were great. Secondly, there was nothing old about me, my friends, or the days in question. In fact, I was pretty young. Which brings me to my next, albeit unpleasant, finding. I used to be skinny.

Now, I'm not complaining necessarily. Yes, I know I need to lose a few (or more) lbs., but who doesn't? My point here is that the "me" of ten years ago thought that I needed to drop ten pounds then, too. So... are we ever happy? Is it true that we don't know what we've got 'til its gone? (or at least hidden beneath a roll of blubber?) AND, and here's the scariest part, does this mean that ten years from now I'll look back at pictures from 2008 and say, "Man I looked good back then!"

*A note about picture number two: The outfits you see before you were not our usual "going out" clothes. This picture was taken at a costume party where we worked our go-go boots and psychadelic dresses like it was nobody's business. Just wanted to be clear about that. *

Finally

I was starting to believe that November 4th would never get here. It has felt like this election has been going on for eons, and I was really beginning to get sick of it. Because I was so anxious about today, I went to bed last night at 9:00 pm (with a little help from Mr. Advil Cold and Sinus!) so that I could be up at the "b-crack of dawn."

My plan worked, and the hubby and I were at our polling location by *5:45* this morning. A fun fact about our polling location: It is at Cheers. Like, the bar. Where we go for drinks. Well, technically it is in the hallway in front of Cheers, but I still think that it is cool to say that I voted for our next President of the United States at the place where "Everybody knows your name."
So, we got through the whole process in a matter of 45 minutes, which I thought was pretty good, considering there were only two voting machines. This gave me time to come home, jump on Facebook so that I could alert everyone to the fact that I had already voted, and get to school with a lot of time to spare. Oh how I love to multi-task!

A few observations I made this morning as I waited my turn to push the buttons:
1. People are stupid.
2. Lines should not be formed in front of doors...it makes it very difficult for people to enter them (the lines and the doors).
3. Old men are cute. Also in reference to this observation...Old men make very good greeters. The little old guy who stood behind me in line was very cordial, and politely reminded everyone that they should "sign in before you get in line." Cute old guy.
4. Well-lit corridors would make for better polling places than would poorly-lit corridors. Especially at 5:45 am. Just sayin'.
5. Having a driver's license comes in handy. Not just for driving, either.

On a serious note, I'm glad that this election is over because it means that there's a possibility we might see gas prices less than $1,000 a gallon, and I might even get a statement from AIG that says I have some money in my retirement fund. Here's hoping!

Mad Hops for a Tough Cookie

Molly is one tough cookie.

In June of 2007 my youngest sister tore her ACL while playing volleyball. A few days later my mom and I took her to the doctor in Chicago, where she got the news we were dreading. She was strong, sat attentively and listened, and waited until the doctor left the room before she showed her emotions. She would have to sit on the sidelines through a season that would have been her first on the varsity team.
Molly elected to have surgery in August instead of July so that she could walk down the aisle at my wedding without crutches or a brace. But even before that, she hobbled around Las Vegas on a bum knee to help celebrate my "bachelorettehood." She could have easily stayed home while we went, but she would never have done that. She wouldn't want to let me, or anyone else, down.
So, she endured her knee surgery right before the start of the school year. When she came home, she spent days laying on the couch, her leg in a machine that looked like it was built by NASA. Finally she went to class, physical therapy, and to as many practices and games that she could. She never complained.
This year is Molly's senior year, and she was back on the court this season. It may not have been all that she had hoped for, but when you come back from a serious injury, isn't just stepping onto the court what you hope for? She is a "smart" player, with a load of talent, who had to work extremely hard to win a spot back on the team. And because I had the privilege of coaching, I know that she never once pulled out of a drill, conditioning, or anything else because of the knee that gave her so much pain. In fact, most days she threw that large "robo-knee" brace off so that she could run faster, make quicker movements as she worked her way around the court.
And when Molly wasn't one of the six girls on the court, she was always cheering those girls on, always positive with her teammates. Just like she was last year.
I couldn't be prouder of my youngest sister. Most kids would have let an injury like that end their athletic careers. Most kids would have been discouraged, easily giving up. But not my sister. She overcame her injury, worked hard, and went on to Regionals this year. You may have seen her in the Post-Tribune this morning. She's the one jumping up over the net to block the ball (on a bum knee).

Tough cookie.

Party Mix

Ingredients for a successful fourth grade Halloween party:

Spooky BINGO with candy corn markers
Donuts on a stick (orange, of course!)
Candy, candy, and more candy (the sugary-er, the better!)
Charades
The Monster Mash soundtrack
Relay races
One or more students tripping over their costume while taking part in the relay races
Juice boxes
A teacher who dresses up as a Firby, even though everyone thinks she's a penguin
Unselfish moms who don't mind spending their afternoon shouting over the noise of 17 kids who are all yelling at each other not to drop the eyeball "or we have to start all over!"

3:30-6:30 pm

This is what I do most nights from 3:30-6:30 pm. It's MHS volleyball baby, and I absolutely LOVE it.

Last weekend the Varsity 'Stangs won the Sectional championship and are headed to Regionals in LaPorte this weekend. Now, to be honest, most years this is the point in the season where I say "whatever" and secretly hope for a swift loss so that I can come home after school and do...well, I'm not sure what, but it would be fun, I guarantee that. But this year is different. Maybe it is because this is my last go of it. NO more practices, fundraisers, games, tournaments, headaches...Maybe it's because Molly is a senior, and I know that this is the end of the Sliwa legacy. Heck, maybe it's because my team always fell just short of that State berth and I'm trying to live vicariously through these girls. Whatever it is, I'm just not ready to be done. I'm looking forward to the Lady Mustangs spiking their way to Indianapolis, showing the region what we've known for four years...these girls are good.

Funny Things

We all have quirks, and believe me, I have tons. Just ask Josh.

I have this funny habit of wearing socks to bed. As soon as my tootsies are safely under the covers, though, I scrape those darn socks right off of my feet and let them swim in the waves of sheets that cover my bed. Let me point out at this time that Josh hates this. I mean he HATES it. With a passion. The fact that at any given time I may have 3 or 4 pairs of socks swimming around in our bed makes him crazy. And still I continue.

There have been mornings when I look at my freshly made bed (which I do most mornings because I'm weird like that. I even put the decorative pillows back in place) and there are little lumps where the socks are living just below the surface. Sometimes one poor sock gets lost (maybe he's trying to escape) and falls between the mattress and the frame. It slips underneath the bed, destined to be a new Jack chew-toy, all the while leaving his lonely mate to fend for himself. And it has happened on more than one occasion that I've washed my sheets and, lo and behold, there is a sock clinging on to a pillowcase for dear life. Why? Why don't I just take those socks off of my feet, throw them in the wash, and then slip peacefully into a bed void of laundry?

Because if I did that, I'd have to unload the drier, and that is a whole different quirk.

Sisters

Three reasons why I love having sisters:

Beth
Katie
Molly

The end.

I Carve

I don't mean to brag, but I have a pretty fantastic family and some pretty sweet friends. Don't believe me? I could list about a *gazillion* reasons why my friends and family are the best, and maybe I'll do that some time. Not right now, though. I have way too much HGTV to watch.

I do, however, have time to share with you one such reason. It is an event that happens every October, usually towards the middle of the month, and it brings out the most creativity I can muster all year. It joins friends, family, and party subs together all in one house. It is IRON PUMPKIN, and it is a blast. Now you may be thinking to yourself, "Pumpkin carving? What's so special about that? " My answer to you is, "Have you ever seen a pumpkin carved into a deep dish pizza?" Didn't think so.

This year's theme, thanks to Dad, was "Chicago." I didn't think it was possible to turn a pumpkin into a Picasso, a gourd into the El. But I guess I was wrong. These are just a few of the illuminated wonders that could be found at this year's I.P.

We came, we saw, we carved. And now you can see why I brag.

*The only thing that could have made this year's IRON PUMPKIN better is if Kathryn Marie could've been there. We included her in our picture, but in her own words, "Halloween is ruined!"

Welcome to the World of Blogging

So.... I never thought I'd be a blogger. Why would I? I don't really do anything exciting to write about. I don't have any kids to post pictures of. I'm not in a band, club, or group. I'm pretty confident in saying that I don't have much advice on housekeeping or crafting to share with the masses. Which brings me back to So... This is the point in my rambling when any Sliwa or Sliwa-affiliate would say, "buttons on your underwear." (Get it?) So...Why do this? Partly because it is football season, and I could use something to occupy my time while Josh is downstairs yelling at the t.v. (Cooking? Cleaning? Grading? Nah!) But mainly I'm doing this as a gift to myself. I've always liked to write, usually for an audience of one, and this is a good way of indulging in that interest. I make my 4th graders write in a journal every day, so why should their teacher get off the hook so easily? Also, maybe someone else will get a kick out of me. If not, that's ok, at least I do!

*NOTE: I expect that I will have one, maybe two, readers of this blog. That being said, don't be surprised when there's a story about YOU.