Happy Birthday, U.S. Army

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Happy Birthday, United States Army.   

Two hundred and thirty six years!  You old goat.

Happy Valentine's Day

I know, I know...everyone is posting on Valentine's Day but I just can't help it.  Guess what I got as a surprise gift from the Mister?

A kindle!

And now I'm reading one of Cesar Millan's books because....

She's here!

Thanks for all the name suggestions.  We have named her Liberty and we are calling her "Libby" for short.  She's amazing.  More to come on this...

Now I'm off to cook lamb chops for my wonderful husband. Wish me luck!

Happy Valentine's Day!

The Year Ahead

I don't usually do New Year's Resolutions.  I've never truly understood the purpose of promising that I will exercise more (which I won't), eat better (I can't help it if I love all things pastry), or get more sleep (let's face it, I'm starting medical residency - not going to happen).

But, 2011 brings big changes.

This year I will:

• Honeymoon in Costa Rica
• Watch my big brother marry my fantastic new sister-in-law
• Match into a residency program in Emergency Medicine - fingers crossed!
• Graduate from medical school.
• Work my first day as a doctor.

This year I will also hug my husband goodbye as he leaves for an overseas deployment.

2011 is certainly a bittersweet year and it's full of uncharted territory.    

My 2011 New Year's Resolutions:  Get out of bed.  Take things day by day. Spend time with my friends and family. Support my husband, tell him that I love him, and show him I am proud of him. Work hard and learn something new every single day. Look on the positive side of things. Use my experiences to make me a stronger woman.

Just breathe.

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!!!

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas, Readers!  I hope you have a marvelous holiday and eat lots and lots and lots of delicious cookies. 

As you spend time with your families and celebrate together, don't forget the thousands of troops currently on the other side of the world:

A Soldier's Christmas Poem:

'Twas the night before Christmas,
He lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house
Made of plaster and stone.

I had come down the chimney
With presents to give,
And to see just who
In this home did live.

I looked all about,
A strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents,
Not even a tree.

No stocking by mantle,
Just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures
Of far distant lands.

With medals and badges,
Awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came through my mind.

For this house was different,
It was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a soldier,
Once I could see clearly.

The soldier lay sleeping,
Silent, alone
Curled up on the floor
In this one bedroom home.

The face was so gentle,
The room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured
A United States Soldier.

Was this the hero
Of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho,
The floor for a bed?

I realized the families
That I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers
Who were willing to fight.

Soon round the world,
The children would play,
And grownups would celebrate
A bright Christmas day.

They all enjoyed freedom
Each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers,
Like the one lying here.

I couldn't help wonder
How many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve
In a land far from home.

The very thought
Brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees
And started to cry.

The soldier awakened
And I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry,
This life is my choice;

I fight for freedom,
I don't ask for more,
My life is my God,
My country, My corps."

The soldier rolled over
And drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it,
I continued to weep.

I kept watch for hours,
So silent and still
And we both shivered
From the cold night's chill.

I didn't want to leave
On that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor
So willing to fight.

Then the soldier rolled over,
With a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "Carry on Santa,
It's Christmas Day, all is secure."

One look at my watch,
And I knew he was right.
"Merry Christmas my friend,
And to all a good night."

(Written by a soldier in WW2 stationed in Japan)

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.

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!