I used to be a Fisher. I was PROUD to be a Fisher. I did things the Fisher way - very proper, on time, never disheveled, and sometimes, juuuust sometimes, I was accused of being a snob. I would like to take a moment here to point out that "anal retentive" doesn't mean "snob". It simply means we like to do things a certain way. That is still true for many things in my life. I run my business my way and no one else will do it as well. That's not to say that other businesses aren't wildly successful, they absolutely are, but rather that no one would run my business as well as I do. Hmm... am I rambling? Yes. Yes I am. But, just let it be said for the record: I was, and always will be, proud to have been a Fisher. I love the way my parents brought me up and hope to be only so good to my nieces and nephews.
When it comes to the general operation of my home life, however, I have to compromise with Hubband. I can't do everything the Fisher way - I must make room in my rather Fisher-ized brain for the Schmaltz way of doing things. The most recent occurrence of this is in relation to our FIRST EVER Team Schmaltz Christmas tree. I had a very particular idea in my head of what I wanted. I could visualize it, and had all the necessary accoutrement at my disposal at the store: Gold! Yes... gold! Gold ornaments, gold tinsel, a gold tree-topper. It would be glorious. Then I crashed back down to earth and noticed the adorable man Christmas tree and ornament shopping with me. Oh, right, he's a Schmaltz. He's perhaps got another way of decorating. We actually had this conversation in Target:
Me: "Uh, babe, so, um, are we going to do this tree, like... Fishers?"
Him: *slightly confused look*
Me: "Or we could do it like your family. There's nothing wrong with that. I mean, the Fisher's way is really pretty, and organized, but I'm sure your way is nice too..."
Him: *giggling* "Well what do YOU want?"
Me: *mental damnation... face crumbling into a stupid grin* "Ok, we'll give it the Schmaltz-touch. But can all the ornaments at least match?"
So you're asking yourself, how did he win that battle? Because he gives me this look like "Really? Are you even asking this question? Why don't we do it OUR way". He's so "on" about making it our traditions, not our parents. It's awesome. The man may not have a firm grip on the use of ten-dollar words but when it comes to matters of the heart he's got it goin' on!
So, for the very first time, allow me to reveal a very Schmaltzy Christmas tree. This is our first-ever real-size Christmas tree that we've bought and/or decorated on our own. To confirm the conviction of surprise from my mother, here's what she said to me:
"Did YOU buy it or did someone else buy it for you?".
Yeah, Mum, your little girl is all growed up. We bought it ourselves.
Oh, and for those of you who may not be familiar with the term "Schmaltzy", allow me to dispel any misconceptions right now: There are two definitions. Well, maybe three. The first is "chicken fat" or "lard" which very clearly isn't true of either of us. The second is "bathetic, drippy, hokey, maudlin, mawkish" (I don't know two of those words...). The third, and more common definition that I like to ascribe to is from my Jewish friends in San Diego: Schmaltz (or to be Schmaltzy) is "the good stuff, the flavor". I like to think Hubband and I are definitely the good stuff. At least for each other.
Okay, okay, enjoy the few pictures. Another post is on it's way very very soon....
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