All is true.

Why, Amit, WHY?

[Note: As I sit here in the drafty front room of my chilly abode in the downright frozen town of Chicago...I am having a really hard time keeping my chenille blanket about my shoulders as I type. That's right- I CLEARLY NEED A SNUGGIE AS I AM COLD YET ACTIVE. 

Note note: I did not get paid for this post. (Nor for the mentions of Snuggies or any other product herein.) This is not a review. It is a love song from my heart to a business' ears.

Thank you.]

And now, An Open Letter To Amazon.com.

Dear Amazon.com,

I love you.

You have changed my life, and- more importantly- my shopping habits. Before you came along, I used to actually have to go to the store. If I wanted something, I had to search for the best deals and varieties on foot. In person. Usually with a baby and diaper bag and something else really heavy in my arms. 

Your site sells everything. EVERYTHING. In a relatively short period of time, I've come to think of the word 'Amazon' as one of those wonderfully ubiquitous things like 'Google' or 'Kleenex' or 'Bandaid' or 'Jello.'

And guess what? You've recently made my instant gratification instantlier and infinitely more gratifying. Simply by guessing that since I buy diaper rash ointment vats large enough in which to backfloat, I must be a Mom.

And your new program Amazon Mom allows me to have Amazon Prime for free. For doing nothing. Nothing, that is, besides buying really awesome stuff for my kid and having it within two days. And now I get it completely free of charge, with no strings or fees or anything ever. Twenty five bucks worth of qualifying purchases for each free month of Prime? Yeah, I think I can swing that. (Especially since you guys are wonderfully loose in your definition of what a 'Mom' should buy. Proving that you are intelligent as well as convenient.)

Here's the truth: I've done 120% of my Christmas shopping on your site. I've made over thirty individual orders and had them all within 48 hours- again, with free two day shipping- and with lower prices than other sites. Trust me, I know. (I'm a Mom, remember? We know stuff.) Some of my purchases have even raced me across the country in my travels- and won.

One purchase didn't make its destination. You guys replaced it, no questions asked. My husband doesn't even give me that kind of leeway, and he likes me a LOT. 

Yesterday morning we realized that we had forgotten a present for one of our nephews- and ten minutes later it was out the door before I had managed to even shower. That's right, besides being good for our wallet, you have also ensured we are not going to be the awful relations this year. 

The other day as I was driving home with my daughter, singing Christmas carols along with the radio and feeling full of the holiday spirit, I gave thanks for you, Amazon.com. I am so serious. I actually felt such a welling-up of gratitude that it gave me a chill. Being a person who does not consider The Mall an integral part of the holiday process, I have so thoroughly enjoyed browsing and hand-selecting gifts for eleven million people (all with completely opposing tastes), sending them on their way within moments, and then being done with holiday shopping forever and ever, Amen.

This frees up more time for drinking mulled wine out of boots, crying over children's movies, and badgering my husband about my present. I think it's safe to say that we all thank you.

In closing, you are fast and powerful and I will never pay for shipping ever again. 

Exuberantly,

Keely

***

And now, to be fair and balanced, here is my sister Kate's actual transcript with Amazon.com customer service when she was trying to hook up her credit card to her rewards points. The conversation took 27 minutes and, at one point, the rep didn't respond for 8. Also, check out some of his gems. I've put my favorites in bold. Enter, Amit:

Kate: Hello. This evening I linked my AMEX membership rewards points account to my Amazon account. I see that they are linked, however, when I go to check out and pay, I am not given the option to select that credit card/points for purchase. Thanks.

Amit: Hello, my name is Amit. I will be happy to help you today. Please allow me a quick moment while I pull up your account. You do not see that option, correct?

Kate: Correct. I have three credit cards saved in my account. When I go to check out, only one of them in visible/able to be selected and it is NOT the one linked to my rewards points.

Amit: I too see that. Are you selecting a different address this time Kate?

Kate: For delivery, you mean? Yes, they are going to different addresses. If you mean something else by different address, I'm not sure what it is.

Amit: I mean place the orders with your address, let us see if we see that credit card. I can always change the address.

Kate: I'm still not understanding what you mean. Do you mean that I should try to place the order all going to my billing address? And if that works then you will change the shipping addresses for each item? I have 18 items going to different addresses, so I'm not sure that's an easy way to go ahead. Is there no way to instead get all of my credit cards to prepopulate on the payment page?

Amit: I do not have to change them individually. All are Amazon items.

Kate: Please explain to me how doing this process will affect the ability for my stored credit cards to show up on my account. It seems to me that no matter where I want to send my purchases, all of my saved credit cards should be available to me at check out. [Eight minutes later.] Amit? Are you there?

Amit: For security reasons when you enter a new address credit card should be entered in full. I am here.

Kate: I do understand that. None of these were new addresses. Yet only one credit card is available.

Amit: How can it be?

Kate: I just went back through and changed them all to my home shipping and billing address. This time, only two of the three credit cards were available, but not the one linked to my AMEX rewards. It seems as though something isn't working properly on the checkout end of things. 

Amit: If you select your own billing address as the shipping address then what is happening?

Kate: How can it be? That is why I'm chatting with you. I was hoping to get help resolving this problem. YES, precisely. If I select my own billing address as the shipping address for all 18 items, only two of the three credit cards are available. However when I go into my account and look at payment options, all three credit cards are there. When I have the items going to different shipping addresses, only one credit card is available.

Amit: I did not mean to hurt you Kate. I see three cards also.

Kate: All that I am trying to do is pay for my purchases but I need access to all of my credit cards.

Amit: Would request you to try to place the order after some time. There might be a technical issue now.

Kate: Is this something you could report then, in hopes that it could get fixed promptly? Thanks.

Amit: I will surely escalate it to my manager Kate.

After all of this, Kate filled out a survey for 'Amit' and was asked if she would like a call to resolve this issue. She said what the heck and agreed...only to find out that the call back was unavailable. Shortly thereafter she received another super secret number to call and reached a gal named Kristy. Who fixed everything, and- I'm assuming- didn't take things quite so personally.

Ah, Amit.

You're like the friend of the sixth grader I'm dancing with (I'm in sixth grade in this scenario, too) who keeps butting in and asking if we're in love yet. No, and STOP RUINING EVERYTHING. 


I still think Amazon Mom trumps The Amit Defeat (get it? Get it?)


And yeah, sure, maybe I pulled up that middle school scenario way too easily. But I think we can all agree that it caused a pretty visceral and instant recognition, yeah? Yeah?


Merry Christmas week. 

Christmas + Birthday= Featured Day.

Today I am the luckiest- and stokiest- to be featured at The SITS Girls! They're a fabulous community of over 7000 gals, all of whom have stellar blogs and thrive on supporting each other. And today it's me. And that is unreal awesome.

To the newest visitors: Hi! I'm Keely/Kiki/Mom (that last one is rather selective.) On any given day I'm a combo of writer, nanny, actress, mother, wife, sister, daughter, and overeager Feng Shui enthusiast. I am a superb napper. I cannot count without using my fingers. I know every bit of Hair Metal trivia ever...and can hold my own with a few other genres as well. I blog about all of these things with nary a through-line. Also, punctuation is rarely my friend.

These two are P.J. and Nora Jane (with some random girl at the otter tank.) They are, together and individually, the coolest things that have ever happened to me. He's an actor, sound designer, software guy and hero. She's the smallest mobile person ever and a personal source of hilarity and glee. They feature largely in this blog, as does the city of Chicago. And our Money Pit of a house. Also- Bean and Ender, the catz.

To get you started- three of my best [funniest/weirdly popular] posts:

The Tearjerker

How P.J. Annihilated An Unwanted Houseguest

...and Keely Yells At The Magazines

Thank you so much to SITS and all of the visiting gals! I'd love it if you followed the blog on Facebook... or Twitter...or, you know, here.

Here works, too.

It's the little ones you hafta watch.

Bath Pingu also frightens me.

I am easily frightened. I think we all can agree on that. However, the other day my bravery reached an all new low.

I was taking advantage of a quiet/resting Nora by doing all sorts of exotic and glamorous activities in the upstairs bathroom; brushing my teeth, using moisturizer, contemplating a braid.

Glancing up into the mirror, I saw into Nora's open room through the reflection. I saw her crib, I saw her lovies, I saw...her miniature face staring at me through the bars, in a position she had clearly been holding for a good while.

She giggled at being seen. Maybe she also laughed at how hard my heart thudded against my ribcage. That's right, I was completely freaked out by the image of my own kid. The idea of anyone staring at me without my knowledge, no matter how related they may or may not be, still gives me a chill. Yup, even typing this- chill. And I don't know, but I'm pretty sure catching anything in a reflection is even creepier. Like- oh man, it's coming to get me and I haven't even turned around yet!

This could all easily be traced back to the misjudgment on my part of tearing through the entire series of Twin Peaks in two days. I pretty much always expect someone to crawl out of the furniture or dance backwards or do something equally terrifying.

On a somewhat tangential note- did anyone catch the Twin Peaks episode of Psych? Sheer, awesomesauce brilliance. They nailed it. Cadence, character, creepiosity...and poor P.J. barely saw any of it, due to my squeezing of his arm and squealing of his eardrums about that NAME and oh my goodness that's an ANAGRAM and that was the SONG they...(etc.) But it's okay. He wasn't a thousand percent invested as a) he oddly falls asleep towards the end of Psych episodes and b) he's actually never finished Twin Peaks. He's still pretty sure Laura Palmer's gonna be okay.

Back to the fears.

I really don't have a [shivery] leg to stand on, what with my penchant for scaring the bejeebers out of my poor parents. My Dad likes to tell the story of how I sleepwalked my way into the fridge. Or that time I made it outside. I personally like the time I ended up mid-staircase.

My Mom's zinger came the night I ended up standing over her sleeping body, staring evilly and chomping on something indeterminate. After a lot of incomprehensible babble [on my part] and prying of the jaws [on hers,] it was concluded that I had stolen the toothpaste cap and had attempted to grind it to death.

She put it back. And, I'm assuming, me as well. But man, what a freakish way to be woken!

That is why I- one thousand and two percent of the time- sleep with a blanket over my ears and up to my forehead, making a little tent for breathing room. (I tried to get my sister Kate to help me invent elastic straps to keep sheets securely fastened to the ears- but nooo.)

It's a well known fact that the mere presence of a blanket acts as a barrier to all sorts of undesirables: axe murderers, ghosts, vampires, hooligans, ruffians, and cats.

Okay, it actually encourages the cats.

I really hope Nora hasn't inherited these phobias from me. I'm pretty sure she's okay so far, given that she's the toughest thing around. From falling onto her back [Oh wowww] to laughing like a loon when upside down (something her folks have never and will never be cool with for themselves), she's a Brave Little Toaster already.

And P.J.'s a pretty brave guy, what with the [reluctant] hunting of That Sound Downstairs and going outside at all hours to Have A Word With The Neighbors.

He's already planning on taking big kid Nora to theme parks for their birthday week. I can just see them now- rollercoasters, splash rides, crazy spinny things in the dark...

...And I'll see them just fine from my perch on the kiddie carousel.

We Won't Go Until We Get Some.

I am not remotely done with the Christmas songs.

Whilst in the car the other day, Nora and I heard the cheerful lyrics of We Wish You A Merry Christmas. This is one of those songs that, for me, is so completely ingrained in my mind and memory of Christmas that I have fully stopped noticing the words. Until the car ride. Can you imagine if actual carolers came to your door one night? (This sort of merriment may occur in more refined and neighborhoody places- but if someone rings the bell in Albany Park after 8pm, your left hand's on the door and a Louisville Slugger's in your right.)

Okay, with me so far? It's late at night (yes, 8pm is LATE) and people are non-violently in front of your house. They are singing at you- which, as anyone with a schoolyear birth date can attest- can be rather awkward.

And then they want snacks.

Not just any snacks.

Pudding.

Figgy pudding.

(At this point in the song I'm wondering if 'figgy pudding' is the kind of treat that these folks are used to in the comfort of their own homes, or if they're just hoping to hit the snack lottery. Like if I went to my neighbor's house and screamed "Mussels fra diavolo!")

All of the aforementioned is weird, right? Especially towards the end of the song when they start outright demanding it. Give it right here. Merry Christmas.

Side note- (Also, did you know that 'Side Note' is the actual title to this blog?)- ever since my scree on Dominick the Donkey, it now plays no less than four times a night on our XM radio. P.J. can back me up on this, since it's usually he who sprints to change the channel.

And on the topic of radio stations, does anyone in Chicago listen to Lite FM's Christmas Wish shebang? (That is not the real name, I was just feeling jaunty.) Basically, people call or write in with their big Christmas wish and the radio station grants them multiple times per day. (I have tried to figure out a rhyme or reason or schedule for these free-for-alls. I cannot.)

Early in the season, I briefly entertained the idea of writing and begging for a Vespa or a closet with a shelf or two and a lightbulb. Then, once I heard the wishes being fulfilled on the air, I realized why I could never ever ever go through with my paltry demands.

These folks that get chosen? They have STORIES. Most of them have lost their jobs, someone in the family's always ridiculously sick and/or has died, the Mom has run off in more than a few of the cases, and no one has socks.

The only thing we really have in common is that I do not currently possess an abundance of matched, non-holey socks.

And they want one present for their kid. Or something to make for Christmas dinner. This one woman the other morning was the sole breadwinner for her son and his kids ('cause the mother had run off and her son had lost his job.) She was 72.

These stories always make me tear up and make me feel like the spoiled, white, middle class kid that I am. They're wishing for a special meal and I'm whining about carbs.

So to add to the mother guilt and Catholic guilt and American guilt...I can now safely acknowledge my Christmas guilt.

So I donated to the Arbor Day Foundation. (Yes, I am a card-carrying member, thankyouverymuch.)

And I gave to St. Jude's Children Hospital. (I CANNOT handle the St. Jude letters. Ugly cry x a million.)

And we adopted a family for Christmas presents.

We over-tipped our paper route kid and mail carrier and cat sitter.

Basically, I am trying to be generous and thank those around me and attempt to atone for the fact that, the other eleven months of the year, I am a horrid human being who does not eat bread crusts and instead throws them away.

I will strive to be less awful in 2011.

Anyone have any favorite charities that I haven't even realized I should acknowledge and fret over? Please list them below. 2011= Philanthropy Year!

Peej is gonna love this one.