On December 26, 2010, I dragged Brian and Scotty to Lowe's. It was dark that night, and if I remember correctly, we were still clad in our Packer gear from the game earlier that day. Thankfully, the Packers had won, but Brian was really, really grumpy with me for forcing him out of the house.

In the aisles, Christmas decorations were strewn around. Broken ornaments, unwoven spools of ribbon, and dead tree branches made it seem like an angry Christmas Eve mob had plowed through the store days earlier, in search of last-minute holiday decorations.

Regardless of the mess and my husband's mood, I plowed ahead. I loaded our cart with all kinds of things as I picked through the wreckage. Package of blue glass ornaments that were not broken? Check. Strands of garland that had not been ripped or flattened? Got those too. A nine-foot pre-lit tree still in the box? Score! Despite feeling like a holiday vulture, I was pleased with the bounty we scored. As we packed the car so tight that Scotty had to sit with a package of brightly colored balls on his lap, I realized that our $300 would have cost us $1200 earlier in the month.

Gotta love clearance.

If you've been a blog reader for over a year, you'll remember that the Christmas decs spurred the need for overhead shelving in the garage. Which in turn caused Brian to drill through a water pipe in the process of hanging the shelves. So any money that we saved buying items on clearance was subsequently spent on an emergency plumber, but I stand firm that my December 26th shopping spree was still a good idea.

And this year, as we took down the new decorations from their home in the garage, I really did feel like a kid on Christmas morning, since I couldn't remember what we had bought. There were some good surprises ("Oooo! The snowflakes have glitter on them!") and some bad surprises ("It appears our pre-lit tree is in fact, not pre-lit.")  So while Brian googled the equation to find the surface area of a 9-ft cone, I gently unpacked all of the ornaments, garland, lights, and assorted stuff in great anticipation of turning our house into a merry, jolly wonderland of holiday fun.

And then I realized that trimming a tree - or three, in our case - is about as much fun as going to the dentist.

It's kind of like how I feel about cleaning: I hate the process, but love the results. I don't know who really enjoys putting up Christmas decorations. Sure, it looks all cute and fun on Facebook, but in reality, my house looked like Christmas had thrown up on it for two solid days. We had so many boxes in our living room that my mom was forced to remove the Bear from the house because it was really a toddler hazard.

(they went on a long walk).

Brian and I found our marriage tested as he inexplicably strung eight boxes of lights on six total branches of the tree. We only had twenty boxes to use, and the tree instructions said there should be no more than 1,000 lights on the tree at any given time. When I came downstairs after stringing the garland on the banister, I found him hunched over six incredibly well-lit, though extremely flammable branches.

He had been working diligently without a break for almost two hours.

It's one of those moments in a marriage when you think to yourself, "Do I correct him or let this one slide? Pro: I won't be nagging at him. Con: the house will likely burn down this holiday season. Okay, looks like this is a battle I'm going to take..."

Needless to say, he wasn't happy with me.

But at least we won't be homeless, either.

With that said, I present to you the three trees of our household. It took two days, 1,500 lights, yards upon yards of garland, and three adults to complete.

Tree #1: the Formal Christmas Tree

This is the "don't-touch-tree-or-you-will-go-to-time-out-tree." That applies to both Brian and Scotty.

Tree #2: the Nostalgic Christmas Tree

This is a polite way of saying, this is where all of Scotty's handmade ornaments will one day hang. No offense to the little Bear, but shiny balls don't really mesh well with pine cones dripping with Elmer's glue and glitter. Maybe I'm a bad mom for not wanting handmade ornaments on my formal tree, but...I don't want handmade ornaments on my formal tree. Sorry.

Please note: this tree also houses many old ornaments, such as the ones given to me by my grandma, as well as "milestone" ornaments -- one that we received the year we were engaged, several that say "Baby's First Christmas," and several photo ornaments with pictures of family members. I'm not totally made of stone, okay?

And as my mom was quick to point out, that's a football under the Christmas tree on Brian's stocking, not an almond.

Thank you Mom!!!

The race is in five days.

I alternate between feelings of excitement, terror, extreme anticipation -- and the occasional need to vomit.

I've never really trained for anything like this before. Aside from the wedding and Scotty's birth, I don't think I've been this anxious for an event to get under way.

Since August, I've been diligently logging my miles. And through the patient instruction of our coaches, I've learned how to tie my shoes the right way, wear the right clothing, run more than three miles at a time, and hydrate, eat, and Gu appropriately. For a sport that appears to require nothing more than a pair of legs, running is far more complicated that I expected. 

So far, the longest I've run is 12 miles. I did that at night in just over two hours -- a totally different feat than running in the morning, let me emphasize. Back in October and early November, I was logging up to 29 miles a week. I conquered the hills at Red Rock twice. I did a few 4:45am runs with friends, and the followed it up with a 60 minute boot camp session. Considering the last three months, my three mile run this morning was a breeze. I chatted with a friend through the whole thing and we did it in just over 33 minutes.

I literally cannot believe the changes in my body in just three short months. I feel strong. I feel capable. I feel good.

And right now, I am excited. I am nervous.

And I am ready.

Bring it.

The Las Vegas Rock 'n' Roll Half-marathon kicks off on Sunday, December 4th at 5:30pm. I'm happy to report that with five days left, I've lost zero toenails, have not pooped outside, and have not pooped in my pants. Based on those three points alone, I'm declaring this race an early success

Against my better judgement and completely adverse to my post from yesterday, I did something surprising this morning: I packed up the Bear and took him to Costco.

On the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.

And the best part? We really didn't even need anything from Costco. We're going out to dinner for Thanksgiving. Sure, I wanted to stock up on one more Christmas wreath (or two), but that did not have to be purchased this week. I wanted to go more to see if I could -- to see if the lines really were as long as everyone said, and if people were grouchy and pushy. If I was strong enough to defend myself and the Bear from an angry mob.

I see this as further evidence that I would never survive a zombie apocalypse.

Because if zombies overran the Earth, "Walking Dead" style, I probably wouldn't believe the other survivors. I think all the zombies are gone...here, let me open the door and check---- ahhh! Help! He's eating my face!

I'd be a danger to everyone in the group.

I can't remember if I've talked about it before on the blog, but Brian and I are kind of obsessed with "The Walking Dead." Yet another amazing show from the good people at AMC, home to "Breaking Bad" and "Mad Men," and another way to spend our Sunday nights. I usually spend the whole show curled up in a ball, chewing on the front of my shirt, whimpering. Brian likes to poke me during the opening credits when the disclaimer comes on: Due to the intense nature of this program, its images may be unsuitable for some viewers.

They should just say, "Kim, please leave the room because you are going to have nightmares for the next six months."

For those of you who haven't seen it, it's about zombies. More specifically, it's about this sheriff guy named Rick. He gets shot in the line of duty, wakes up in a hospital 28 days later, and finds that the world has literally just about ended. Streets are bare, car have been abandoned, dead bodies are piled up everywhere, and human beings that used to be alive are now wandering the streets at a very slow pace, mouths agape, flesh rotting, in search of their next meal. Almost every human being has turned into a zombie. These "walkers" can only be killed by taking out a specific area of their brain; regardless of what else is amputated, cut-off, or hacked, the way to kill a walker is through the mid-brain region.

Poor Rick has a lot to come to terms with, and quickly. Is his wife still alive? What about his son? Where are the other survivors? And if his best buddy survived, who just so happens to be really cute and really single, would his wife sleep be sleeping with the friend, thinking her husband is dead? The whole show is one tense moment after another. There is lots of screen time dedicated to zombies-eating-people's-faces-off, and quite frankly, it's changed the way I look at the world.

Every time I open our big freezer in the garage, I survey the contents and think, "Almost enough to survive a zombie apocalypse. Almost."

Which brings me to Costco.

So this morning, I couldn't help but take note of the giant mass of people moving slowly through the aisles. They lurched between the pastries, slack-jawed and dead-eyed, moving from one baked good to another with no sense of urgency. When we got to the deli aisles, it was as though there was fresh meat present (literally) - people were scratching each other, groaning, pushing, and (I swear) biting each other for the next foil-wrapped ham or cheese tray. By the time I got to dry goods, the movement had slowed considerably, but there was an intensity in the air as the zombies, er, Costco shoppers, lumbered after the next free sample. Scotty and I moved as quickly and quietly as we could, careful to not interrupt the zombies in their environment. By the time we got out to the parking lot, wreaths in tow, we exchanged a high five. We had made it. The walkers didn't get us.

And if Costco is bad, I can only imagine other places. Just last night, Brian and I were discussing where to find these gingerbread-flavored marshmallows. After several minutes of conversation, it both hit at the same time:

Wal-mart.

I told him I'd rather go into a zombie-invested high school to retrieve medical supplies than go to Wal-mart the week of Thanksgiving.

After all, we all remember what happened to Otis.

Editor's note: surprisingly, AMC does not pay me to review their shows. I just really, really, really like their programming. And I think you would too - check out The Walking Dead on Sunday nights on AMC; check your local listings for times. The mid-season finales airs this Sunday, and then the show will return in the new year with eight new episodes. Don't blame me if you develop an anxiety condition as a result of watching; you've been warned. 

The Monday before Thanksgiving means only one thing to me: it's a slippery,event-filled slope from here until the end of the year.

And as we slide, it brings out the crazy.

Maybe because it gets darker earlier, we subconsciously freak out. Or maybe our to-do lists just go nuts and we realize there really aren't enough hours in the day to get it all done. Maybe it's the idea of having 36 parties, events, and holiday-celebrations on the calendar and the only thing flying is time and money out of your wallet. Either way, it's a mess out there.

I was going to brave Costco today and then realized - huh? The cart zombies, the mad grab for canned sweet potatoes, the discounted Christmas wrapping...no thank you. I fear I would not make it out alive.

Brian and I actually had a team meeting last night. Maybe it's Junior League, or maybe in my inner dork is in full-gear, but I realized that he and I need to sit down and make a road map of December. Well, end of November and December, because not only do we have at least one event per weekend, we have multiple events per day at varying times. We literally had to strategize how to make it work, fitting in Scotty's nap schedule and our occasional need to sleep.

Case-in-point: the first weekend of December. I have an event on Friday night, Brian and I have an event on Saturday night ("blow-out worthy," I noted to Brian, adding an additional two hours to my planning), we have a toddler birthday party on Sunday morning, and then the marathon is Sunday night. I think my running coaches would be aghast to learn not only will I be out past 9pm the night before the race, but I'll be clomping around in 4-inch heels as well. At least I worked out my outfit to ensure I'll be wearing my most comfortable 4-inch heels...

See what I mean? Crazy.

So if you're anything like me, tie a knot in the end of your rope and hang on. Be sure to start defrosting that turkey if you already haven't. Try not to allow that neurotic gleam to creep into your eyes too often, and go easy on the caffeine. January 1 will be here before we know it...

...I hope.

Good luck, and god

The Chicken Tomato Crapshoot was...well, okay. I can't tell if it was too tomato-y or what, but I would give it a solid 6 out of 10. It was just kind of "meh." And as we all know, "meh" falls squarely between "hmm" and "blech."

It should be noted, however, that I was on my last ounce of patience with the small child yesterday, and that may have contributed to my annoyance and overall feeling of blah. Thursday was not a good day for me or the Bear. Lots of butting heads and whining. Fun stuff.

Today's recipe comes to us all the way from Hobbs, New Mexico. A very, very, very nice person by the name of Kori Z sent this to me yesterday, and it was just in time, too. We tend to not cook on Friday, so I wasn't sure what I was going to do today. But Kori was prepared and very thoughtfully sent me this recipe for Italian Beef in the crock-pot. It's from her friend Beth, and apparently, Beth's nickname is "Beef." And so, the actual name of this is "Beef's Italian Beef." Very clever. :-)

Personally, I don't care what it's called - it just sounds delicious.

I'll definitely have to try this one next week, but while it makes me happy, it makes me sad, too. See, Kori was supposed to take over next year as President of Junior League. She had been waiting in the wings for several years, and but in October, her husband accepted a new job in New Mexico. I didn't know Kori very well before she left, but I had a feeling she and I would have probably been good friends. That bums me out. But here's hoping she starts a chapter of Junior League in Hobbs!

Best wishes, Kori, and thanks for sending the recipe!

Beef's Italian Beef

1 packet au jus gravy mix
1 packet Good Seasonings italian dressing
1 beef rib roast (2-3lb)
2 cups water
12-15 pepporchini peppers, plus more for garnish

Mix au jus and dressing mix with water and pour over roast in crock pot. Add peppers.  Cook on low for 8 hours.  Remove cooked pepporchinis & shred beef.  Serve on toasted ciabatta rolls. Garnish with chopped pepporchini and a slice of provolone.

...and on Day 4 of my crock-pot challenge, I invented this strange dish.

You'll have to tune in tomorrow to find out if it was any good, since I have no idea if it's delicious or a disaster. It came to me this morning, as I stood in the kitchen, sipping coffee and trying to ignore my bossy, screaming child.  (He was devastated there were no hot air balloons in the sky, a common sight on our side of town. We've been spoiled with lots of 'hot balloons!' all week, but there were none today. It crushed him, and in typical toddler form, he took it out on me. Angry, angry Bear, indeed.)

Anyways...back to the food. The chicken smells good...I just hope it tastes good, too. Here's hoping.

Chicken Tomato Crapshoot

2 breasts of chicken
2 cups (or a jar) of marinara sauce (I used my own)
1 can of diced tomatoes
8 oz of cream cheese (I used the whipped kind, since it was in our fridge and about to expire at the end of this month)
1 Tbl. Italian seasoning
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp garlic salt

Once again...dump everything in the crock-pot. Set on high, and cook for 6 hours.

On a different note, yet another dishwasher repair man was over this afternoon. He was the same guy from this past Monday, and Scotty really took a shine to him. He arrived the same time we did, as we came home from music lessons, and Scotty put on quite the show for him during lunch. Aside from going all Romanian orphan on him and thrashing about as I attempted to put food in front of him (while wailing "nooooo!" of course), Scotty also let loose these choice phrases:

"Loooove dishwasher man! Hi dishwasher man!" (okay, more endearing than annoying, I'll give him that. There was lots of waving and shy glances, too. Cute.)

"Mmm....tasty! Boogies are tasty!" (the consistency of his oatmeal was questionable, but at least he liked that portion of the meal).

and my personal favorite...

"Dishwasher man...making poo-poos! Dishwasher man making poo-poos!? Ewwww!"  (complete with finger pointed and hand waving.)

Good time. I just hope our dishwasher is finally, finally, fixed. So my child can stop harassed the repair men that have to come to our house.

Mmm...this recipe comes courtesy of my friend Deana, the one with twin boys. She's guest blogged a few times for me, and always has a funny thing to say. Her twins keep her on her feet, but she manages to make time to cook - and share recipes with me - despite her busy schedule.

This one is a good one...it made my whole house smell warm and cozy. If I could, I would have bottled the smell up and put it in candle-form. There's nothing better than a house perfumed with the smell of a great soup. And an easy one, too.

Chicken Soup by Deana

3 carrots, peeled and diced
3 ribs of celery, diced
1 onion, diced
1 32 oz box of chicken stock
2 chicken breasts, cubed
OR
1 rotisserie chicken with the meat removed and then shredded
1 package of Mrs. Grass's Hearty Homestyle Chicken Soup mix

Once the veggies have been diced and the chicken is cut/shredded, you literally just dump everything into the crock-pot for 4-5 hours, set to high.

And that's it. Dinner is ready.

Brian, the ultimate dinner critic, actually LOVED this soup. It warmed my heart to see him like something I made. I plan to serve it to him for the rest of his life (or until he's sick of it, which will likely be in a few months). Yay for good soup!

Our week-long crock-pot bonanza continues...

This is quite possibly the best crock-pot chili I've ever had. I'm not sure if I was just starving when I ate it, or it really is awesome, but it's fabulous.

The seasoning was purchased at a craft fair that I attended several months ago with my friend Sonnya. She bought nice things, like jewelry, and I bought food.  Whoops.

I do credit this chili's awesomeness to the seasoning, and it can be purchased online at soupnchili.com. I highly, highly recommend it.

And best of all...this is the easiest recipe in the world.

4 cans (16 oz) of beans, any variety, rinsed and drained
1 15 oz of whole kernel corn, drained
2 chicken breasts, cubed
2 cups of water
1/2 packet of Carol's White Chili Seasoning

Dump everything in the pot and set on high for 4 hours.

Serve with cheese, sour cream, crackers, and hell, some Fritos if you are really crazy. :-) Enjoy!

As promised, this week will be full of crock-pot recipes...one each day. I know, I know, those Crock Pots Girls or whatever have already capitalized on America's love for crock-pot cooking. Well, I don't have the time to dedicate an entire sight to the crock-pot, I just will give you my top 5 recipes.

This one comes from my dear friend Jen, mom to Henry. Henry is 11 days older than Scotty and they are buddies. It's so cute to watch them play together - lots of cars, "chase," and the occasional round of Grecco-Toddler wrestling. They keep themselves occupied while Jen and I swap recipes.

So without further adeiu...Monday Night Football Soup. It's healthier than you think, but is hearty enough for the big game.

Monday Night Football Soup
1 onion, diced
olive oil
5 links of Italian sausage
2 cloves of garlic, minced
large bunch of kale, rinsed and coarsely chopped
1 28oz can of stewed tomatoes
1 32 oz box of chicken broth
1 can of cannelli beans, rinsed
Italian seasoning
touch of parsley
2 cups whole wheat macaroni noodles, uncooked

Saute onions with olive oil in a large pan until translucent. Remove the casing off of the sausage (trust me, it's much easier this way) and crumble with onions. Add garlic when it's almost completely cooked (garlic burns easily, and no one like burnt garlic). Drain fat. Add kale leaves and cook for 4-5 minutes, or until the kale is bright green. (it will be very pretty). Dump entire mixture into your crock-pot, along with the tomatoes, chicken broth, and beans. Toss in spices and give it a quick stir. Cook it on low for 8 hours, and throw the macaroni noodles  (or whatever pasta you prefer - I'm a fan of mini ditali, but we were out) in the last hour of cooking. Serve with bread or crackers, and enjoy!

Go Packers!

I am very happy to announce two exciting developments on the blog -- as of tomorrow, the dining reviews will be updated with a whole slew of new restaurants, and next week, each weekly entry will be dedicated to one crock pot dish that I use and love. Because lord knows that when this cold weather hits, we're all too tired to make dinner but relish a warm meal. Crock pot recipes = awesome.

As for the dining reviews, which have not been updated since May, I'm consistently shocked to see that they are in the top three page views on my blog stats. People gotta eat, I guess. And just in case you are curious, search terms that might lead you to the blog include "Junior League is a sorority" (giggle) and "tapas: hate sharing food."

Yup, this is my blog.

So anyways, tune in tomorrow for more dining options in Vegas (including my favorite bakery!). And next week, drag those crock pots out and grab your can opener, because nothin' says dinner like dumping stuff in a large, heated bowl. Bon appetite, indeed!