Lucky Girl

Multiple high priority projects demanding my attention at the day job.

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Desire to finally pour onto the page, a few of the story ideas now swarming around inside my head.

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The Wife, Mom, Daughter, Sister, Friend thing.

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Not enough hours in the day, resulting in subsequent overload and shut down.

Until I received this…

This is an email from Mr. Man.  Mr. Man works an incredibly busy job, where he barely has time to scratch his ass.  Often when I receive emails from him they are pretty cryptic, as he only has a nanosecond to type them.  Usually it drives me crazy, but this time...

Is this Motivation to help get me through the projects at work?

Motivation to remind me that I have what it takes to succeed?

A cheer reminding me that he loves me and I rock, thereby Motivating me to continue rocking?


I think I’m going with all of the above.


Don’t hate me because I was lucky enough to catch a man like this,

Mandy:)



The Las Vegas of Europe

Opened coffee creamers, Adam Sandler movies and European adventures.

It was one hell of a summer. Never one of those silly girls who declare after a week of dating that she is “in love” I felt totally out of my element.

Because I was…

Undoubtedly…

In. Love.

After a mere two weeks of dating I knew this was it. This was the man I was going to marry, and Mr. Man knew it too.

But life is not like the movies. We knew to give our future the best chance at success we needed to wait. Our hearts may have said, go, go, go…

But our heads were much smarter.

After all, I was only in Europe to work and bum around for the summer. Then it was back to my studies at The University of Ottawa. I’d only completed 2 years of school and I still had 2 more to go.

Yup, I have never been blessed with good timing.

So after the requisite romantic weekend in Paris, it was time to say good-bye and brave the whole new world of…

The Long. Distance. Relationship.

Dun, dun, dunnnnnnnn.

It was a long two years, but thanks to surprise (and not so surprise) visits, really expensive long distance bills, choppy barely coherent webcam sessions and my summer work furloughs, we survived. We came out the other side knowing distance HAD made the heart grow fonder.

Watch out... I’m just full of clichés tonight!

We got engaged after our first year, and when I finally returned to Europe for good, we knew we needed a plan. See, in order for me to accompanying Mr. Man to his next station we had to have a marriage certificate (not to mention easing the whole immigration process), but being located in Europe a big wedding was out of the question. We just wanted to get “the piece of paper”, and have our “big day” later.

After a little research we knew that getting married in Germany was completely out of the question. The bureaucracy and complicated translation required was just way too much work! But how about eloping somewhere fun and new instead?

Finally we settled on Scotland. My maiden name being MacNeil and my Mom’s being McLeod, Scotland seemed perfect.

And FYI, as the title of this post suggests, it’s like the Las Vegas of Europe.

Well, minus the gambling and singing Elvis.

We simply sent in our required paperwork and documentation, with our requested wedding date, waited and few weeks and, VIOLA! One easy-peasy courthouse wedding.

We arrived in Edinburgh the day before our official day, and did the tourist thing. We scoped out the Royal Mile and the castle. Upon rising the morning of the big day we decided to cram in just one more attraction before the big “I DO”. Believing the tour was a mere 20 minutes we chose the creeptastic “Mary Kings Close”. A guided tour of a portion of the city that was walled up during a time of plague, it was reportedly haunted and definitely intriguing.

As we followed the Guide through the dusty twists and turns of another time, hearing one chilling tale after another, we lost all sense of time, and when we emerged an hour later squinting into the afternoon sun our only thought was, “Sh$t! We’re going to be late for our own wedding!”

Barreling into the hotel room we tore through our luggage, hauling on the bits and bobs of our simple wedding attire, and in 20 minutes we were back in a cab and hurtling towards City Hall. Out of breath and slightly sweaty we rushed into the appropriate office, and were greeted by the calm smiling face of our Justice of the Peace.

“Relax loves, we’ve got loads of time!”

She ushered us into her office, got us a glass of water and asked, “Do you have witnesses?”

“Umm…. we were told we could find them here?”

“Oh, absolutely! Shall I go find them, or would you like to?”

Pointing out that this was our first time and we didn’t really know how to go about finding witnesses, she told us to sit tight and rushed from the room.

15 minutes later she returned with two women.

“These will be your witnesses. Julie and Julie… they are on their lunch break.”

Greeting the newest members of our wedding party, we quickly went over the paperwork and having confirmed the details were correct followed our Officiate into a small room, with a podium. I gave our camera to one of the Julies, asking her to take pictures, and then took my place in front of Mr. Man.
We joined hands.

Simple vows were exchanged.

Rings were given.

A kiss was shared.

And in the blink of an eye I was officially Mrs. Man.

We celebrated in true Scottish style with a Steak and Haggis diner.

I still can’t believe that was 8 years ago. It was our first adventure as man and wife. We’ve had MANY MANY since, and I know we have MANY MANY more to come.

And I can’t wait!


Time flies when you’re having fun,

Mandy:)

Where My Elves At?!?

First, let me say, I love Christmas.

Really, I do!

I love the food and the music and the decorating and the crafting and the giving and everything that IS Christmas.

BUT…

Right now my office is a wreck. It generally looks like Christmas threw-up, and it’s up to me to clean up the mess.

I have To Do lists coming out of every pocket, handbag and orifice of my being. It’s possible I might need to create a separate To Do list in order to organize my other To Do lists, and…

My longtime frenemy Insomnia has come for an unwelcomed visit.

So, why, you ask, if I love Christmas so much, does it cause me so much stress?

Because I am a woman!

As most any member of the faier sex can tell you, slap us into a red suit, add a beard, and BAM… there’s your Santa!

Therefore, as the Santa in residence here in Mandyland my gift to the men I know and love is a little enlightenment.

Christmas does not just magically manifest!

If you are sitting in a beautifully decorated home, with a delicious meal, surrounded by your loved ones, opening a plethora of thoughtful gifts, then chances are somewhere there is a woman you should be thanking… profusely!

AND

If said women should politely ask you to lend a hand by buying a present or two, hanging some Christmas lights, or making a trip to the post office, do not under any circumstance roll your eyes, sigh or act put out.

Unless you want to end up like this…



Consider yourself warned!

Ho, Ho, Ho,

Mandy:)

*** This photo was created by Joel Robison and is entitled "Holiday Overload". I highly recommend you click on the picture to check out his Flikr Photostream, and also visit his Facebook Fan Page! He's even a fellow Canuck, bonus!***

A Ray of Sunshine

Fall has arrived in Portland, and with it the rain. The gray, depressing, never ending rain.

Going hand and hand with the rain, the cold has also descended. A gray cold that creeps into your bones, leaving a chill that never goes away. Having grown up in Canada I thought I’d experienced the worst cold there was, but the frigid damp here is like the spiny fingers of death, stealing into your soul, and never letting go.

So, what’s a girl to do to keep her spirits up and stay warm?

How about singing in the rain?

Singing in the rain….

What a glorious feeling…

I’m HAPPY again!

One amazing and silly Daddy + one giggling little girl =

A sure fire cure to the rainy day blues!


Catching the little rays of sunshine, and holding them close,

Mandy:)

The Small Stuff

A perk of being a Canadian/U.S. family is that we get to celebrate Thanksgiving twice. My husband kindly cooks a yummy turkey dinner for me in October, to honor Canadian Thanksgiving. Then we have turkey with all the fixings again in November, to honor American Thanksgiving.

And, when I say honor, read “excuse to have turkey dinner, with all the fixings, TWICE”.

So, Oct. 10th came and went, and we participated in the required gluttonous celebrations, and now Nov. has arrived and in a few weeks we will get to do it all over again! The difference this time however, is that the rest of the country we live in is about to celebrate too, and so leading up to the big day there are all kinds of fun activities to participate in.

One currently running on Facebook is “30 Days of Thanks”. Everyone is encouraged to post one item each day for the 30 days of November, that they are thankful for. I personally think this is a great way to remember how lucky we all are, but you do remember “Focus”, right?

Um, that wasn’t even the whole list that runs through my head, each and every minute of every day. I DO NOT need another commitment to worry about!

Instead I’ve decided to use the activity as blog fodder, and thereby continue to fulfill the time consuming commitment I already made at the beginning of November.

Wait a minute….

Anyway, here we go….

But before I start let me warn you, my husband, daughter, parents, friends and family will not be included in this list. My love and thanks for each and every one of them, and recognition of their importance in my life, is something I acknowledge EVERY day, not just during November.

So…

1. Elevators. I’m not lazy, and do occasionally take the stairs, but sometimes you have a wedgie that needs picking, and an empty elevator can be the perfect place to take care of business.

2. Baby farts. When a precious, innocent little bundle of joy lets one rip, I can hardly keep a straight face for more than about 5 seconds.

3. Silence. I love talk and laughter, but sometimes there is absolutely nothing better than complete and utter silence. It’s so rare in our society, and ESPECIALLY rare in my life!

4. Baths. I DISLIKE showers! There is nothing better in life, than sitting in a steaming hot bath and allowing the heat to soak right in to your bones. And, to those of you who insist that bathing = sitting in your own filth, all I can say is “Seriously, how dirty ARE you!?!?”

5. A new book. Holding it in my hands, I feel a palpable bubble of glee rise from my stomach, straight up my throat, erupting in a squeal befitting a 5 year old. I just can’t help it! Aren’t you excited before you visit a new place??? Well a new book is a new world, with new friends, just waiting to welcome you with open arms.

6. A steaming hot, non-fat, Café Mocha, without whip cream… it’s a guilty indulgence, that’s almost guilt free.

7. Getting older. It means I’m not dead yet!

8. Ugly Christmas Sweaters. All you can do is laugh, and hope the person wearing it is being funny, and doesn’t actually think it’s the height of fashion.

9. Toddler Plumber Butt. The curse of being too tall for one pant size, but not big enough around for another. The blessing being everyone can then enjoy the cutest crack in existence.

10. Peanut Butter and Bacon sandwiches. Hey, don’t knock it til you try it!

11. Seasons. When you don’t have the weather to talk about with obscure relatives, things can get pretty awkward. Believe me, I lived in Guam for 2 years. Sun, humidity, and rain, that was about it!

12. Silly moments. My 6’2” husband dancing around the living room, pretending to be a ballerina, just to make me laugh, is PRICELESS!

13. Sleeping naked. TMI, I know, but it’s seriously the freest I feel all day.

14. A new Paper Source catalogue. I usually get so excited, I pee a little.

15. Art. Color, beauty, inspiration…. Magic!

16. Severe weather. As long as it isn’t endangering anyone’s life, it’s kind of exciting!

17. Being born in the 20th century. If I’d been born in mediaeval times, I would of likely been burned at the stake, for the singular crime of possessing red hair!

18. Spellcheck. For the amount I read, I still can’t spell to save my life.

19. The piece entitled “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”. If only everyone would live by these rules.

20. Great Quotes.

21. Clothing that is sized large. I know it’s just a number, and I know shouldn’t care, but when I can fit into a pair of pants, labeled one size smaller than I usually wear, it makes me do a little jig of happiness.

22. A Bargain. You can’t brag about something you paid a fortune for, but when someone compliments you on the dress you got on sale…

23. Meeting with a new friend for the very first time.

24. Perfectly medium rare steak. If it makes my mashed potatoes turn pink, it’s PERFECTION!

25. Radom uniqueness. Art, antiques, toys, clothing, it doesn’t really matter. If it’s a little bit different and quirky, then I’m smitten.

26. Counting down the days til a big event. It feels like a little celebration every time you cross a day off the calendar.

27. Freshly washed sheets. I’m telling you, when you sleep naked, those sheets are even more decadent feeling!

28. Going barefoot. It could be the middle of the winter, and my feet will be ice cold, yet I cannot bring myself to put on socks.

29. LISTS!!!

30. Dancing and singing at the top of my lungs in the middle of a large group of people. Everyone looks like an idiot, no one can hear if you are out of tune, and it’s the best opportunity to completely let loose!

Well, then. That’s it.

Phew! That was actually harder than I thought it would be.

But it was nice to sit down and shine a spotlight on the small stuff that makes me smile every day.

I firmly believe if you can celebrate the small stuff, then every day will be a mini celebration!

So pass the confetti,
Mandy:)

If it's not moving..

What is your criteria for deeming leftovers inedible?

In my house growing up the rule of thumb was if it smelled okay, wasn’t incubating any extra life forms, and generally still resembled food, then go ahead and dive in.

My Mom is a connoisseur of leftovers.

She loves leftover chicken, pizza and steak. No need to heat them up. She prefers them cold, maybe a side of crackers, a few baby carrots tossed on the plate for color. Snuggled in the corner of the couch, her plate balanced on the arm, nose in a good book, and viola you have my Mom’s perfect lunch break.

Perfection, perhaps, only rivaled by the incredibly rare, mother-daughter shopping sprees, her and I share about once a year, when she and my Step-Dad are able to visit.

Yes, Mom, I know… it’s my own fault for moving all the way to the other side of the continent… in my next life I’ll fall in love with the guy next door, I promise.

My Dad, on the other hand is the king of what he calls Goulash… and no not the authentic German variety.

My Dad’s Goulash always happened on a Tuesday or Wednesday night, when the selection of leftover food was at its peak. With children sitting around the kitchen table, contemplating various levels of schoolwork, my Dad would open the fridge to peruse his ingredients.

A little leftover meat, maybe some leftover veggies, perhaps some sauce… whatever he didn’t have in the form of leftovers, he’d fill in with a can of Campbell soup, and he’d top the whole thing off with some pasta… usually macaroni.

It was always tasty, often contained curry, and 100% of the time only required one pan to make. The rest of the dishes for the night consisted of the 5 or 6 containers he had emptied in the process of creating his masterpiece.

All that to say, in my childhood, leftovers may not have lasted in the fridge for very long, but if they did, we NEVER threw them away unless they showed signs of being spoiled.

Food cost money, and in my family, money was often tight.

So, imagine my bewilderment, when I arrived home today, early for the first time in FOREVER, with an actual PLAN for dinner only to be thwarted by a leftover thief!!

I had planned on Corn Casserole, Leftover Ribs and salad…. Yum, right?

The conversation went like this…

ME: Mr. Man, where are the leftover ribs?

HIM: Oh, my Mom told me to throw them away yesterday, they were bad.

ME: (At an earsplitting shrill octave) WHAAAATTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! They were smoked on your Dad’s BBQ on SATURDAY, yesterday was TUESDAY!! In what universe does cooked meat go bad in THREE DAYS?!?!

Were they smelly, slimy, furry, discolored or moving?

HIM: No.

ME: Well then WTF!!!!????!!!

Now, you might think this a slight overreaction on my part. After all they were just leftover ribs, get a grip right? But this is not the first time my sweet “better-half” has pitched perfectly good and delicious food.

One year, Mr. Man threw away the scrumptious leftover pineapple upside down cake he had made me only three days earlier for MY birthday. It was wrapped in tinfoil, sitting on the counter one day, and when I came into the kitchen the next evening, with a hankering for a slice of tasty cake and cold glass of milk, it was gone!

I should have had him arrested for theft… that cake was MINE!

Another time he decided the pot of soup made the night before and left on our stove, with the lid on, in our COLD kitchen had gone bad, since it hadn’t been in the fridge.

It didn’t contain dairy, eggs, or raw meat. It hadn’t been sitting in the sun. It hadn’t been uncovered for bugs or foreign particles to invade. No one had scratched their ass and then stuck their hand in the pot….

So how, HOW in any possible stretch of the imagination could it have gone bad?????

Seriously, am I crazy? Okay, don’t answer that!

But, am I misinformed? Is there some sort of fast growing super bug that lurks in leftover food? Am I going to eat a piece of 2 day old chicken, get infected and turn into a zombie… thereby bringing on the Apocalypse and the end of life as we know it?

If so, please tell me now, cause I’m actually REALLY afraid of zombies!!!

Risking it for some 5 day old homemade cookies,

Mandy:)

I want Fashion! Function can kiss my...

19 more sleeps til our big adventure across the pond and prep has already begun.

In my youth I was a card carrying member of the Procrastinators Club. I was always the student up all night before a project was due. I could be found busily knocking it out, often with unhealthy sugar infused food fueling my efforts. One time I ate an entire bag of Oreos while finishing an assignment. Just before dawn the assignment was complete, and I was experiencing a sugar rush that could easily rival any drug induced high on the market.

Any questions concerning how I gained my “Freshman 15+” are now answered, I’m sure!

Now, lists are my world. There is honestly nothing more satisfying then crossing something off of a list. I have lists for EVERYTHING! Needs, wants, to dos, don’t forgets… I’ll write a list and then re-write it. Condensing and expanding. Expanding and condensing.

I can see you nodding in ecstatic agreement Michelle, I know you would give me a high-five if you were here. Save it. I’ll be collecting soon enough!

So the lists for Germany have begun, and at the top for me was to find a great carry on bag. I wanted something big enough to carry all the paraphernalia I’d need to keep the Munchkin occupied, uber functional so I could grab and go whenever I needed and, perhaps the hardest part of all, SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL TO LOOK AT!

I know when you are a mom about to travel an enormous distance with a soon-to-be-two-year-old, fashion should not be your #1 priority, but I just can’t help it. It physically hurts me when I have to settle for something that is functional, but ugly as sin. Is it too much to ask to have fashion and function without having to slap down a mortgage payment to get it?

The first stop in my search was Etsy.com, a fantastic marketplace for crafters, collectors and those searching for something just a little bit different. I figured maybe I’d get lucky and find a bag handmade to perfection, or maybe something vintage. As with my crafting, in fashion I love to be unique. My favorite haunt as a teen was my local Salvation Army Thrift Store. I’d spend hours combing the racks, looking for something different, vintage and one-of-a-kind.

After hours of searching I hit pay dirt. I found it in a shop called BrightWall. OMG! It was just too beautiful for words! I could instantly picture myself, chic and sophisticated travelling momma, with this vintage bag hanging over my shoulder.



Be still my beating heart! I showed it to my hubby, bubbling over with glee from my find, expecting a husbandly, “Whatever you want.” Instead I got a great big rainstorm drowning out my parade.

His questions of practicality and functionality made me want to scream! Couldn’t he just read my mind and see my vision. Me, posh and pulled together, serenely pushing our precious daughter through the airport, carrying THAT bag! Ultimately, the endless questions finished with a compromise. He said we would look at the mall that weekend, and if I couldn’t find anything else I liked, then I could get the DREAM bag.

Determined to prove him wrong, the next day I hit the mall with my partner in crime and soul mate in all things esthetically pleasing, Jessica. I knew surely she would commiserate with my plight, help me stage a search of the mall, thereby allowing me to skip home and order the bag I was meant to have!

Except… my fashion guru, my style icon, my lover of all things artistic and beautiful, is NOT about beautiful handbags where function is concerned. As our search began she confessed that although a big part of her world revolves around fashion, she is unabashedly about function when it comes to bags for hauling her kiddo’s stuff. Her diaper bag is a simple black Eddie Bauer model, and although it has zero going for it esthetically (except maybe being black) she loves it because it makes her life easier.

As we walked into Macys, she advanced on a display of luggage on sale for 50% off. I wish I could describe the bags on display in beautiful flowery terms, but the only thing I can say about them is that they were definitely functional. Pictured below is not the exact bag presented to me by my dear friend, but really, they all look the same to me, so it will do.



UGH!! It’s just so plain and uninspired! On our search we must have found a million just like it. “Dude, it will be so functional. It will make your crazy long trip so much easier. You won’t be tearing your hair out. Dude, I don’t want a bald friend…” Jessica reiterated all the reasons Colby had given me (and then some). I knew they were both right. But, MY bag. My beautiful, vintage, Kelly green duffel, perfect in its uniqueness and character, was calling to me. Pleading with me not to cave. Not to give in to the modern and mind numbing. Urging me to be inspired and impulsive for once. Screw function and practicality, just buy the gorgeous bag!

But in the end I caved. I listened to my friend, and my husband and did the practical and responsible thing. I bought the ugly bag.

Being a responsible adult really sucks sometimes!!

In a mope I spent the evening staring at the offending bag. The bag I KNEW I would never use again after my trip. Colby said he really liked it. It was perfect. I’d be able to fit everything I needed in it.

“FINE!” I snapped “When I get back it’s yours!”

I know, all this over a bag, grow up, right? What can I say, I’m a SAHM, and I can’t help but leap at any opportunity to feel stylish. Mac and Cheese, snot and diapers just aren’t sexy!

So, I bought the ugly practical bag and that’s the end right? Nope. My goddess of the shopping find came through for me!

The next day Jessica called me, so excited she could hardly contain herself.

“DUDE I FOUND YOUR BAG!!! IT’S BIG ENOUGH, AND HAS A TON OF POCKETS AND A SHOULDER STRAP AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL! I’M EMAILING YOU A PICTURE NOW!”

So sometimes you can have your cake AND eat it too.

One beautiful Sojourn Style Croco Weekend Duffle Bag in Merlot red, courtesy of Target for $39.99.



Now the search is on to find an umbrella stroller to match.

Wish me luck,

Mandy:)