through the seven levels of the candy cane forest

I interrupt the week long blog vom of wedding pictures to link-up with some genius women and their genius link-up idea: You're Always a Kid on Christmas. I told you it was genius, but that's Helene for ya. She's the kind of person that asks you to jump and you do a switch leap over cliffs. Or she plans a link-up and you drop all posts and link it up, man. Just do it.

You're Always a Kid on Christmas. Yes, yes I am (let's ignore the fact that that sentence could probably read You're Always a Kid and be very accurate about me. Sorry I spend 90% of my time around children. Hashtag: teacher lyfe).

Christmas is magical.
Point blank. Period. The End.

Freddie made this for me. True love and also not creepy looking in the least. Wink with the crazy eye.

But really, who doesn't belt out Christmas music? There should be silence after this question. 

I had to think long and hard (insert obligatory that's what she said joke, moving on) about a good story from Christmas' past. What was blog worthy? Let's see. I was a fairly boring well behaved young lass and the only holiday related story I could come up with was about my sister. My sister being mad that my mother would not get her a cow for Christmas so she went to the mall and told Santa she wanted a cow and might as well have told my mother HA, CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT NOW, MC. THE BIG DUDE'S BRINGING THE COW. 

Long story short, the big dude did not bring a cow that year. Or any year since then.

A favorite Christmas memory for me is actually made up of lots of little memories. Little moments that make Christmas Christmas for me. Let's review.

Going to look at the big Grinch my neighbor's plaster on the side of their house every December.

This is followed by driving to visit the local 2-story Christmas tree and the waving Santa.

Wrapping present after present. And then wrapping up this cutie patootie.

Driving around at any crazy hour of the night just to find good Christmas lights.

And yet Disney Christmas lights always win. 

Speaking of Disney, visiting our favorite Christmas character performer.

My brother may or may not have been a reindeer in a former life. I can't say. 

Carefully hanging the ornaments. My family has about a billion and that's not an exaggeration, no matter what you may think. Each ornament has its own story and I love it. 

One, two, skip a few, ninety-nine, one billion. 

My parent's house (that feels so incredibly weird saying that, by the way. Hello, my almost 4 month old marriage) has ridiculously high ceilings so a 12 foot tree has been in the works since we moved. 

No picture will ever capture this beauty. Come visit sometime, ya hear? 

Getting the Christmas movies and playlists lined up every year. Home Alone, Home Alone 2, Elf, Santa Clause, Charlie Brown, Grinch, Rudolph, and...now Christmas Vacation. Thanks, Freddie, for expanding my horizons. 

Always a favorite. Let's jam out together, Bing.

Last, but certainly not least, every year since my brother was two or so we've gotten our picture made with Santa. It kind of really turned into a big family tradition that we decided would end when my younger sister turned 18. Which was last year. Cue the tears. No Santa visits this year. I am not 24. I am not 24. Shut up. But seriously, one of my favorite places in my parent's Christmas decked out house is the buffet where all 25 of those framed pictures sit.

Here are the past two years. Minus my broseph, Joseph. I know, you were wanting a sampling of the cute childhood Santa pictures, but this is all I have. And since we're always a kid at Christmas...

And also, SANTA!!! I know him!!


So where will you find me on Christmas?

I will be up at 6 am to see what Santa brings because yes, Santa still visits no matter how old you are and yes, getting up at 6 is a necessity. Don't the Santa gifts like disappear if you're not up by 6:30?! I will be wearing a Santa sweater with snowflake socks curled up with a Christmas blanket. I will be eating all the food off of my parent's Christmas china. I will be sitting in a pile of torn up wrapping paper and half way untied ribbons because please do not try to tell me you carefully unwrap your presents without a single rip or tear.

Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.

gettin' ready to marry freddie

Thursday night was magical. Downright magical, I tell ya. Around 7 pm the originals of our wedding pictures arrived via UPS and oh boy, did I wanna give that brown outfitted man a big 'ole squeeze. The past 3 days have been a blur of going through pictures, laughing, going through pictures, smiling, going through pictures, laughing and smiling, going through pictures... you get the idea. I do break to go to the bathroom and eat (occasionally) so don't worry your little heads. Let's just leave it as the hardest part of my weekend was starting the process of how does one showcase said wedding pictures?

So until I decide what should be printed and framed, or printed on a canvas, or hung on the wall, or put in an album, or sent to family these pictures get to be showcased on this here b-log (pronounced: bee-log. Get it right). 

OH MY GOSH, Emily!! No way! I couldn't be more excited to see these precious photos!

(That's your line, by the way).

Now now, what kind of super sweet blogger would I be if I didn't share these precious photos?!

(That's my line).

Enough talk type, let's get to it. 

May I present the Getting Ready photographs. Getting ready to vow to spend your life with someone. Vow in front of all your family and friends. No big deal or anything. Just like any other day!

And the stockings were hung by the chimney with care. I mean, and the wedding dress was laid on the bed with care.

 I'm still waiting to have enough money in the budget to hire an every day makeup artist. That's totally a necessity, right?

 

 I kind of spent the entire morning/day (we didn't get married until 7:30 pm. That's a lot of hours to wait, just in case you didn't know that) in silence. I was pretty sure if I opened my mouth for any reason I would inadvertently vomit. Lovely, I know. What was I nervous about? Saying my vows in front of an audience. Why? Because I'm a dancer. We don't talk on stage. We dance. Did it turn out okay? **Spoiler: Yes. As soon as my dad and I started down the aisle all speaking worries vanished. Cheesy stuffed bread and true. 

Laughs and good music helped the worry wart tendencies. 

Just flash mob practicing. Werk it. 

Meanwhile the men were doing manly things. Like drinking whiskey and coke and tying ties. Oh, to be a man. 

Freddie's ready. And also nervy pants about memorizing vows. 

And just like that I was ready, too. 

on controversy

Freddie told me my blog should be more controversial. That people want to read about controversy. Or something. (I personally hate controversy. When my dad brings up politics [every 5 minutes], I tune out. When I'm upset about something, I'm quiet about it. Let's all be friends and hold hands) I asked him what topic I should have for today...but I could never get an answer.

I'll show him controversial!

So how's this for a controversial blog? 

I like Christmas more than you. 

No, really.

I think that Scandal is an annoying show. An annoying show that I cannot stop watching, but a very annoying show.

I love him, I don't love. I sleep with him in the utility closet, I don't sleep with him in the utility closet. 

I've always wanted to be a mother and I don't have big "career" plans for my life. So what, let me be a super ballet teacher, a super choreographer, and someday a super mom. Sorry it's way easier for me to talk to children than adults. What does that say...? It says I'll be a Mary Poppins of a mother. Or at least I'll be fun like Bert from Mary Poppins. Or maybe I won't. Ugh, controversy and indecisiveness. What a post, am I right?!

Let's go fly a...balloon!

How's that for some controversy, huh? Huh? Aren't you boiling with anger over something now and want to agree/disagree with anything and everything?!

No? Okay. Sorry Freds, I'm only good at writing entertaining posts.

I'll end this controversially controversial post with a poll:
Now that I have my wedding picture originals...
how many people want to see some real wedding recaps on this here blog?

Raise your hand Let me know if you are feeling particularly swayed towards a yes or a no. (Because who doesn't like reliving the day with me over and over and over?!)

the dog ate my homework

Lately I've felt like blogging is my homework. My homework that I'm failing. I get sweaty and panicky on a Tuesday night when I realize I have no post or idea ready for a Wednesday post. I go into a state of denial. The deep, dark kind of denial where I assure myself I'll figure something out. Then it's 10 pm and I'm crawling into bed (Grandma Weiss over here). Then it's 7 am and I'm getting ready to go teach for the day and there's no way I can type one out before I leave. I've heard parents aren't too fond of their child's ballet teacher pausing class to write a blog post, but maybe that's just some old wives tale. 

This has happened every night for over a week. I pulled a big time Scarlett O'Hara and told myself, there's always tomorra' (add that Southern drawl when you read that there sentence). But unlike Scarlett I'm not a lazy, procrastinating Southern belle who's wasting her life and needs a wake up call. Sorry, Scar, Rhett sho' did show you. 

I'm a blogger who needs to realize that blogging is not my homework and I will not fail anything for not posting. What was that--like a triple negative?! Triple high fives over here from the grammar police. So maybe I am like Miss O'Hara in the sense that I need a wake up call. 

Don't you l-o-v-e bloggers who spend almost 3 paragraphs explaining why we suck and justifying it? I sure do...n't. 

In order to turn this frown (-y face blog post) upside down, let's end on a happy note of me sharing some life lately schtuff pictures. 

Life lately has been like this...

A whole lotta family.
Forget Thanksgiving food comas. I'm in a T-giving family coma and I love every second of it. Come back already, fam-a-dam. 

I think I'm going to have to do an entire post dedicated to the Thanksgiving photo booth success. Hold on to yer britches.

Oodles and oodles of crafting. Just call me Crafts McGee. Or Emily. You can just call me Emily.

I have enough leftover burlap from the wedding to get married 3 more times. At least. But instead of going through that hassle I decided I'll just make a ton of holiday burlap banners. Win.

B-e-a-utiful beach sunsets. And scenery. Just beautiful everything all around.

All thing Christmas. I love Christmas. Emphasis on the Love. It. part. Who doesn't? I turn into a 5 year old Santa believin', cookie baking, present wrapping, elf ear wearing (not) hooligan for the month of December.

And all this stuff, this has what's been keeping me from blogging. And I'm a-okay with that. Thanks, life, you are being really cool right now.