A Christmas Story

I love the holidays. I know this makes me a next level weirdo since this is a tough time of year for a lot of people. Hell, it's a tough time of year for me. Especially this year, with having just been laid off a few weeks ago and having a heck of a time trying to find something steady right now. But that's another story for another day. I love Christmas, LOVE IT. I love the lights, the music, the weather. Everything about the Holiday season just makes me happy. Holiday baking shows on the Food Network, Christmas movies, ALL THE HOLIDAY books. I'm all about it. Maybe it's because I was born in December, or maybe it's because humanity is a little bit nicer, whatever the reason; I am a Christmas kid. Always have been and I don't see that changing anytime soon.

2015 was a tough year, and December 2015 was going to be my first Christmas without my Mama. My Mom was a collector of people, and every Christmas she would cook a nice brunch and all were welcome. Family, friends, people who didn't have family or needed a break from theirs, it didn't matter. People would float in and out of her cute little condo and she fed us all. Christmas at my Mom's was really special, and after she passed away, I wanted to continue her tradition of making a nice breakfast for our family, friends, etc.. So, I looked up recipes, found the perfect egg, cheese and potato casserole (seriously, it's SO GOOD) bought the bacon, which I only eat once a year, and I proceeded to Susie Homemaker my ass off.

I got everything prepped on Christmas Eve, but here's the thing; I've never made bacon before. I had no idea how to cook it. I called my bestie, who has these kinds of skills, and she told me how I could make it in the oven. SCORE! So early christmas morning, I leave my lumberjack sleeping in our bed, I go downstairs, I pop my casserole in the oven, I place strips of bacon on a baking sheet and pop everything in the oven. I settled on the couch with my coffee and I'm enjoying the quiet peace of the morning. Just reflecting on the past few months, missing my Mommy. . . and I notice smoke coming from the kitchen. I thought that was normal I guess? I thought that bacon maybe smoked? Well, I didn't think much of it until it started getting a bit heavier. Alarmed, I went to the kitchen and opened my oven . . . Only to find it completely engulfed in flames. I shut the oven door super fast and called for my guy. I told him the oven was on fire. Meanwhile, I had just buzzed my Dad in the front gate, and by the time he got to the front door, the smoke alarms were going bonkers, and Philly was putting the oven fire out with baking soda.

So it turns out, I needed something to catch the dripping bacon grease. Who knew? I was able to salvage my casserole, and not do any serious damage, it could have been much much worse. Now, Philly makes the bacon. I refuse. We have people come over, our families, and a few friends. It's a nice way to spend the morning. I like feeding people, much like my Mother. Although, I doubt she ever burned the bacon past the point of recognition.

At this moment, I'm looking at our Christmasy house. The tree is up, there are lights and light-up animals outside. I have sauce in the crock pot, I made cheesecake cups with lemons from our tree for dessert, and once again I'm reflecting on the last year, and what comes next. There's definitely some fear there, I'm not really sure what happens next for me, I can only trust God that He has a plan, that there's a great job waiting who would love them some JoJo.

Life can get pretty lifey at times, sometimes you burn the bacon, sometimes you get laid off 2 weeks before Thanksgiving and have to adjust on the fly, nothing is ever perfect. But it's always perfectly mine. I'm looking forward to Christmas morning this year, when I get to feed the people I love,and build more memories . . . Maybe some that don't involve almost burning my kitchen down <3

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and I hope the magic finds you this year.

Sports. And Why They Matter.

Anyone who knows me knows about my undying love for the Los Angles Dodgers, they know that my heart beats baseball & that I've forgotten more stats than some people will ever know. A select few even know about my teenage rebellion where I rooted for the Braves for one season. It was Chipper Jones' rookie year, don't give me any shit. But sports for me was something I grew up with. Dodger Baseball was the bridge of communication between my father and I when we couldn't talk about anything else. No matter what, we always had baseball, we still do. I have a love/hate relationship with my team in the playoffs and my heart cracks a little every time my Lefty gets shelled. I can't bear to watch it. The beauty of Bellinger's swing, Big Leaguer Seager the double king, KiKi Hernandez playing everywhere ever, and Baby Joc just roping home runs. It's fun, and it's heartbreaking and every emotion in between.

2015 was a banner fucking year for me. (I swear. a lot. Are you new here?) My Mama had been sick for a while, and she wasn't getting better. I made a really tough decision and left a career at a company that I loved so I could be with her. That was in April, 6 weeks later my Mom was gone. Even though I knew it was coming, nothing ever really prepares you for that moment. The moment that my tether, ceased to be on this mortal coil. She passed in June, and I got pregnant in July. In August, we had a miscarriage. The hope I had, the joy I felt, that little glimmer that somehow things would be brighter, was gone. I have always been a pretty social and outgoing person. Throughout these losses, I ceased to be so. I started to retreat into myself, and I became reclusive. By the time my Gram passed away a few months later, I was completely broken. That's it in a nutshell, if you want to know more, I have a book out about this very thing ;-). A few years went by of me trying to find my footing, find my place, search for a new normal,and it was rough. I put on weight, I maxed out my credit cards, I rarely left my house.

Then, hockey happened. I have watched hockey on a surface level for years. I was mostly a Kings fan, since my love for L.A encompasses all things. But really, I watched the Kings in the 90's when the likes of Wayne Gretzky, Luc Robitaille, and Marty McSorley were on the ice. I didn't know much about the sport (I still don't if we're being honest here). I went to the occasional Wrangler game with my crew, but I was a casual fan at best. I am married to a sports guy. He's a football savant, and most of our dates were at Rebel basketball games. We are sports people. So, when Vegas announced they were trying to get an NHL team here, my dude was ALL IN.

I told you all of that so I could tell you this - Hockey saved me. Or started to. When the Golden Knights showed up, suddenly my guy and I were out of the house. Random hockey dates in the middle of the week, we met new people, we were out of the house on a regular basis, and I started to come alive again. The Knights united our city after the tragedy of October 1, and in all my years here, I've never seen anything like it. The way our city came together was brilliantly beautiful at a gut-wrenching tragic time. Through all of my turmoil, hockey helped me find my way out. Over the course of the season, our boys kept getting better and better and somehow made it to the Final in our first year, it was a ride, and I was happy to be on it. But, for the first time in years, I was happy. I had joy, and I was finding my way back to myself.

Life got real lifey over the last 4 years, and I lost myself. It was about 18 months ago, things came to a head for me. I was still pretty miserable, overweight, and I hadn't dealt with the trauma of losing my Mother, or losing our baby. I always say how blessed I am to have my friends, my husband, my family, and they all stood by me when I was at my worst. I started going to therapy (amen for outside help) I developed a regular gym routine, I started making time for my friends again, and getting out of the damn house. I fell deeper in love with my sweetheart, and we worked through some gnarly stuff. But slowly and surely I started to find my me again. She had been gone for some time. And it all started with hockey.

I turned 40 in December, I never thought I'd live this long to be honest. And while life is definitely in session, I'm living. For the first time in 4 years, I am truly living my one wild and precious life. It's short. And it's my job to enjoy it. So, sports matter in the Mueller household, and they matter in the Casey household, because, like music, it's a thing that unites us. It's a bridge that brings us together. I have a beautiful big life. And I will never ever cease to be grateful for that.

- FIN -