Jen on the Edge

The Mother Ship called me home and I have lived to tell the tale.

As I mentioned yesterday, I daytripped to IKEA! with the ever fabulous Melissa. It was an arduous journey, but we survived and brought home Swedish goods as souvenirs.

The closest IKEA! is more than two hours from my house, so much pre-invasion planning was involved:

Yes, I created a shopping list before I left. Believe me, this was Serious Business. If I forgot something, I was not about to make the 4+ hour round trip journey again any time soon. So I planned carefully. I also ate a good breakfast and wore comfortable shoes. Invasions can be utterly screwed up by a lack of foresight, you know.

I even packed my camera. And then promptly forgot all about until we had made much progress through the store. Luckily, I remembered in time to capture an image of my favorite IKEA! kitchen:

I know, I know, it’s bold and loud. But there’s something about this that’s just so damn compelling that I feel lust in my heart every time I see it.

I tried to get Melissa to do a cooking demo so that I could photograph her, but she refused, so instead here she is talking about the bacon she could fry up in this pan:

We spent more time in the kitchen department, where I picked out some of these wall cabinets:

Por quoi? It’s part of the latest home reno project here in Jenworld, which will get an entry of its own — hopefully this week, which would mean that Pete and I actually got off our duffs and did some actual work.

After going through the show rooms upstairs, we went downstairs, grabbed a shopping cart and started filling it:

Yes, that’s just ONE of the carts we filled. I kid you not.

Here we are checking out curtains:

SO. MANY. CHOICES. So much cheap fabric that we’ll never buy because it would fall apart the first time one of our children so much as sneezed near it.

And look, here are the curtains from the “High Bordello” school of style:

In the children’s section, we found this bin full of stuffed animals that the kidlets can store their pajamas in:

I don’t know how they think over there in Sweden, but here in the U.S. of A., we don’t generally consider cockroaches to be appropriate bedtime imagery for our innocent babes.

Is anyone else as amused by the name of this corkscrew as we were:

We added more and more stuff to the cart:

Calls were made to our husbands:

At one point, Melissa was describing five different kinds of Roman blinds to her husband. Stop and think about it for a moment. Is any one of us partnered with a man who actually cares about that sort of stuff? I told Melissa that Rich didn’t give a shit and to please stop bothering the man. He agreed.

We eventually made it through the labyrinth and then it was time to stand in line. And stand. And stand. And stand.

Melissa got through w-a-y before me and was kind enough to go into the Swedish foods shop, buy some chocolate, and come give me sustenance before I started chewing on the reduced-price Christmas gift wrap display by the registers.

We made our first trip with two shopping carts out to the Jenmobile and unloaded. Then we went back inside to pick up my cabinets.

We made a quick pit stop here to pick up supplies for the road and then we headed back south and west toward our homes and our families.

Tomorrow, I get to start assembling stuff.

* Bonus point and lots o’ respect to the first person who can identify that quotation.

The Mother Ship has called me home.

Melissa (the other half of the Dynamic Duo of Shoe Shopping) and I are hitting the road for some Serious Shopping. We’re taking my minivan AND Pete’s helping me fold away / remove seats for maximum hauling of Swedish goods.

More later…

Graceful and Elegant are back from their vacation at “Club Grand.”

To retrieve our children, we met up with my mother at a town halfway between hers and ours. As luck would have it, there’s a wonderful children’s museum that’s more or less convenient for an exchange, and we figured a couple of hours playing there would ease the sorrow of parting from Grandma:

The museum is in an old brick warehouse by the banks of a river. Rising up through all four stories is every child’s dream — ladders, slides, tunnels, and other methods of proving one’s mettle as a Climbing Superstar. The girls entered on the ground floor and we really didn’t see much of them for a while.

Going up:

Climbing down:

At the top:

Moving sideways:

The stairs light up as you step on them:

When climbing and crawling became boring, there were plenty of other things to do in all parts of the museum.

I’m glad the girls had fun with their grandparents — we enjoyed our short break from parenting — but it’s good to have the family back together again.

Last week, we got a box of goodies from Josie. This week, she got hers from us.

New food addictions have been created on both sides.

Over the river, and through the wood,
(and down the highway)
To Grandmother’s house we go;
(people, she will always be known as Grandma Ass on this blog)
The horse knows the way to carry the sleigh
(horse = Pete; carry the sleigh = drive the Mazda without wrecking)
through the white and drifted snow.
(no snow, this is Virginia, not Wisconsin)

Over the river, and through the wood,
(My god, how many rivers must we cross?)
To have a first-rate play.
(To take the girls to their grandparents’ house. And leave them there. While we head home. Without children.)
Hear the bells ring, “Ting-a-ling-ding”,
(Tell the girls to turn down their iPods.)
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!
(Hurrah! The girls are spending a couple of days with their grandparents!)

(More river, more woods, blah blah blah. The end.)

And then, after we dropped the girls off for 48 hours of fun and games with the grandparents, we hiked Peaks of Otter, which used to be known as the tallest moutains in Virginia, but that is not actually correct. Still, Sharp Top is a big-ish ass mountain and I was gasping and wheezing within the first five minutes. The wheezing eventually stopped, but only because my lungs decided to hibernate for a while as they just couldn’t handle the extreme cardio workout.

[No snarky comments from anyone who lives in/near the Rocky Mountains or any other big tall pointy mountains. A mountain is a mountain is a mountain, whether it's big or just medium.]

And now we’re home, which is very quiet in its child-free state. My word, the possibilities, they are endless…

I just found the following list on the front of our fridge, written by Graceful:

Today:

• Go for a long walk alone (three miles) — check
• Daily weight check — check, with a little happy dance
• Clean the kitchen and put away serving dishes from yesterday — check
• Do two loads of laundry — in progress
• Run the vacuum — check
• Have the girls sort through their new toys and books and bring some order to the disorder — in progress (and they’re not happy about it)
• Thank you notes (myself and the girls) — not yet
• Continue work on the grant proposal due by the end of the week — soon
• Relax and enjoy some of my new books and CDs — soon (and for most of the afternoon)

I love Winter Break.

Checking out the haul from Santa:

The boy — reunited with Tigger:

The grandma and the boy:

Deconstructing the gingerbread house after dinner:

This evening:

It was a good day.

On the family list of things for today:

1. stockings, hung by the chimney with care — check
2. presents, wrapped — check (eleventy squillion times)
3. holiday spirit and good moods — check (multiplied by the four of us)
4. chimney ready for the entry of the Big Guy in Red — check
5. snacks for Santa and the reindeer — check
6. music (Elvis, Bing Crosby, Perry Como, etc.) — check
7. music (“Hey Santa” by The Wilsons) — hell no
8. desserts, Buche de Noel and pumpkin pie — check
9. childproofing, in anticipation of having a nine-month-old amongst us — check
10. Tigger, to return to said child — check

We’re ready.

As for all you reading this, Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Frohe Weihnachten, Joyous Noel!

What better way to spend the Saturday before Christmas than by eating lots of candy and occasionally adding some to a gingerbread house?