Deployment Party Success

For the past several weeks I have been a part-time party planner.  My husband is leaving quite soon and we felt that it was important to send him off in style.  I know that having a deployment send-off party isn't exactly a universally desired event, but my husband really wanted to have one.  He has fond memories (or should I say lack of memories?) of his previous deployment party and it was meaningful to have his friends and family get together before he left. We did not want any old party for this deployment - we wanted to have a PARTY.

I experienced nothing but generosity and support during the planning process.  I rented out an American Legion Hall because we were anticipating a large number of people and wanted to have space to socialize.  The American Legion gave us the hall for a minimal fee (because of the nature of the event).  We hired one of my husband's old high school classmates as a DJ for the event.  He gave us a great deal and he was wonderful.  For food, I called a local bar and explained that my husband is a firefighter in town and is deploying overseas.  The manager dropped the catering menu off at my house, told me not to look at the prices listed, and ended up giving me the most ridiculous discount on food for 125 people.  Family and friends supplemented with some pot luck as well.

Even amidst all this generosity, I never expected the email that I received late one evening.  Tears filled my eyes as I read that the union and relief association from my husband's fire department wanted to give me a check to help pay for the party. 

$1000.00

I was and still am speechless about this.  I was able to do so much more with this party than I had ever imagined.  During a time when we are feeling particularly strapped financially, I was able to throw a huge event with minimal out of pocket expenses.

The party was absolutely fantastic.  There were so many people there and it really warmed my heart.  Everyone ate, drank, danced, and socialized.  It was exactly what we wanted it to be - a celebration. 

I set up a table where guests could write a note to my husband - words of encouragement, jokes, stories, or whatever they wanted to write.  I promised not to read them (they are sealed in envelopes) and I will be mailing these to him periodically throughout the year.  This was a big hit and I have a stack of notes just waiting to be sent overseas. 

I wasn't sure if I would feel sad during the party but I actually didn't. In truth, I felt incredibly and overwhelmingly happy.  I felt so grateful for the presence of my family and friends and the love of my husband.  I cannot tell you how many times people hugged me, told me that they were there for me, and offered to help me through the year.  I swear that every firefighter in attendance instructed me to never hire a plumber, an electrician, or a handyman and to just call the fire station for help with any problem.  This made me feel safe and I think it made my husband and my parents feel relieved as well. 

I am so blessed.

I've spent the weekend nursing a hangover but it was worth it! 

Now I just have to start thinking about the homecoming party ;)

The Potty That Stole Christmas

This past Christmas was extra special for several reasons: It was our first Christmas as an old married couple, it was my first Christmas as a Jew who married into a Catholic family, and of course it was especially meaningful because hubby won't be here next year for Christmas.  Excited about bringing food for Christmas Eve, we cooked up a storm pausing only for a few impromptu dance sessions in the middle of the kitchen floor.  My husband made his famous buffalo chicken dip:

I made the always crowd-pleasing White Chocolate Cherry Chunkies (courtesy of Paula Deen):

Also on the menu was Black-Bottom Peanut Butter Mousse Pie from Epicurious:

                                                        side photo from epicurious.com

My husband told me to "never make this again" as he inhaled the pie in one large bite.

Finally, I made Alton Brown's Shepard's Pie.  Unfortunately, I forgot to take a photo of the finished product (Peppermint chocolate martinis...need I say more?).  Trust me though, it was delicious.

We spent Christmas Eve catching up with family, sharing stories, eating, laughing, and getting tipsy (or more than tipsy) on those deadly peppermint chocolate martinis.  Hubby and I stayed at my sister-in-law's house overnight, which allowed us to experience a truly magical moment - our 2 1/2 year old nephew waking up for Santa in the morning.  This was the first year that he really got what Christmas was all about so it really was priceless and so special.

For several months he has been announcing daily (or sometimes multiple times a day) what he wanted for Christmas.  It was unequivocally this doll from Toy Story:

He already had a small doll that was similar but he wanted "Big Woody" and he was not afraid to tell anyone that fact.  Let's just say it sparked quite a few jokes.  Imagine Santa's (from the mall) surprise when our nephew sat on his lap and proclaimed that he wanted "Big Woody" for Christmas.

When he walked downstairs and saw "Big Woody" sitting on the couch, he seriously almost passed out from glee.  Never in a million years did I think that level of happiness could be beat by any other Christmas gift for the rest of the day.

Boy was I wrong.

Here's what stole the show:

He screamed "CARS POTTY CARS POTTY CARS POTTY!!!" and started shaking and revving his engine (which coincidentally looked very similar to going potty).  He then proceeded to stand in the middle of the living room floor and attempted to pull down his pants and sit down.  Thankfully, my sister-in-law quickly interjected and swept him and the new potty into the bathroom.... 

Potty Success!!!

This Little Jew Gets a Christmas Tree

When I was little, the holiday season meant sitting around our kitchen table eating latkes and lighting the Menorah.  I have fond memories of running upstairs to my parent's bedroom where there would be two large garbage bags full of presents - one for me and one for my brother.  Each night we would get to pick one, bring it downstairs, and open it.  I personally liked to save the biggest one until the 8th night of Hanukkah so it would end on a bang. 

There was only one other Jewish kid in my entire grade and he was half Jewish.  Therefore, the holiday season also meant being the only one who didn't celebrate Christmas.  My parents tried to make us feel more included by giving us stockings on Christmas morning.  Of course, someone a little bit different dropped off the goodies:

Also, every year my mother would come into my classroom and teach all the other kids about Hanukkah.  She would make potato latkes, tell the story of the oil that just kept burning, and give everyone a flourescent colored dreidel.

I still look back on this very fondly and I love her for doing that.  It made me feel special during a time when I could have felt very left out. 

Then, I grew up and married a Catholic.  Now we get double the fun!  The benefit of being an interfaith family is that you get to celebrate twice as many holidays.  This past week my husband has stood by my side as we lit the Menorah and he has even come up with his own improvised prayer.  It goes something like this: "Baruch ata, Adonai eloheinu....nanu nanu nanu."  Hey, close enough. I don't understand the Hebrew either.

I finally get to have a Christmas tree!  I spent hours trying to find the best tree for our apartment.  So many choices...tall, short, fat, skinny, white lights, colored lights, no lights.  Shhh, I know that Home Depot only has like 10 fake trees to choose from, but it was a big decision and I had never done this before.  I brought my tree home and I've been just waiting for Thanksgiving to pass so it would be socially acceptable to put it up.

Then came my hunt for ornaments.  We have approximately 8 ornaments that have been given to us over the years, so we needed more to fill the tree.  As I walked around the Christmas Tree Shop, I realized that I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.  People were pulling things off the shelves left and right but there I was, standing in the middle of the aisle, puzzled.  It occurred to me that I had no clue how many ornaments one needs for a tree.  I called in reinforcements:

Me: "Hi Mom, how many ornaments do you think I need for a 6.5 foot tree?"
Mom: "Umm... I think you should get 12."

Clearly my mother had never decorated a Christmas tree either.

I picked up 88 starter ornaments, a tree skirt (who knew?), and a snowflake tree topper (unfortunately, I could not find a Star of David).  The store was packed, children were screaming, ornaments were breaking, shopping carts were colliding...oy gevalt. I found it quite ironic that shopping for the "Holly Jolly" season made me want to jump off a cliff.  Don't worry, I broke out my yenta heritage, got in everyone's way, and shoved through the crowd with my elbows held high.

As I approached the check-out line, I passed the tiny shelf of clearance Hanukkah decorations and I stopped to take a look at the plastic dreidels, chocolate gelt, and stuffed bears with "Happy Hanukkah" stitched across their abdomens.  Standing in front of the shelf admiring a Menorah was an elderly Asian man.  Now, I'm not meaning to stereotype here, but I'm almost 100% sure that he was not Jewish.  I had to chuckle to myself because I realized that the same bewildered look on his face was most likely present on mine as I fumbled through the piles of Christmas stuff.  I kind of wanted to tell him that the ceramic flip flop Menorah was really weird, but I figured I'd let him decide that on his own. 

And without further ado, I give you this little Jew's first Christmas tree:

If you look closer in our living room, you will see another beautiful Christmas decoration that dates back to circa 1953:

This amazing light up Santa belonged to my late grandparents, Grandpa Bob and Nanny.  Apparently, I'm not the only Jew in the family who enjoyed a little Christmas spirit.

Moments Like This....

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I went to his sister's house for a visit.  When it was time to leave, our 5 1/2 year old nephew reached up to hug my husband and say goodbye for the night.

He looked up at my husband, smiled, and said, "Thank you."

My husband was puzzled at this seemingly random expression of gratitude.  He replied, "For what?"

Our little 45 pound nephew -- who was not even born when the military first set boots down in Iraq and Afghanistan -- responded:

"You're a Soldier, right?  Thank you for protecting us."

It's these kind of moments that tug at your heart.

What Am I, Chopped Liver?

The debut of this blog just happens to fall on one of my favorite holidays of the year.  Here are some of the things that Thanksgiving means to me:

Maine:

Napping by the Fire in Sweatpants:

Turkeys:

Yes, of course this kind:

But I more specifically mean this kind:

Chopped Liver:

While this may sound disgusting for most of you out there, chopped liver is a staple in this Jewish household.  The phrase "What am I, chopped liver?" doesn't really make sense because if you are chopped liver, then you are really really awesome.  Seriously, just give it a try.  My Irish husband can't get enough of it. 

Black and White Cookies:

Preferably eaten at midnight with a giant glass of milk.  Act fast though because my mother may have already eaten them all.

And of course, last but not least, spending time with my family.  This year I am thankful for the tremendous love and support that surrounds me.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Hello World!

As if life isn’t busy enough, I’ve decided to take on the challenge of writing a blog.  I’m not sure if I’ll ever live up to the blogging skills of my good friends over at Oh! Apostrophe and Meet the Schwajaks! but perhaps someone out there will find this worth reading.  In truth, I hope that this will be cathartic for me as I face what may become one of the most difficult years of my life: the combination of intern year and my husband’s deployment to Iraq.  Both of these life changes are only a few months away and I’m gearing up for what will definitely be a long and sleep-deprived journey.  I’ll probably write a lot about these things, but don’t be surprised if you see some postings about my loves...family, friends, and FOOD.

Enjoy!