2008, here we come

I don't have any grand plans for next year. I think that I succeeded in meeting my resolutions for 2007.

This time, I think I'll, again, set reasonable goals. I also realize there is definite room for improvement in my life in many areas.

So, with that in mind, I'm giving a mixed bag of goals and resolutions for 2008.

• I resolve to eat gooey, underbaked chocolate chip cookies and drink lots of cold milk. (Who am I to buck a trend?)
• I resolve to be a better friend and daughter and wife and mother.
• I resolve to be more honest, tender, caring, firm and loving with those that mean the most to me.
• I resolve to read more books and less blogs. (Sorry! Although I love my blog addiction, it doesn't not advance my goals of being able to stay awake with a book or reading in places other than the bathroom.)
• I resolve to exercise, at least a little bit.
• I resolve to take more pictures of my family. (The Mighty Hunter's Christmas gift will promote this!)
• I resolve to swear less.
• I resolve to sing more.
• I resolve to find my laughter again.
• I resolve to live more deliberately and courageously.
• I resolve to not have a baby this year.
• I resolve to throw two ROCKING birthday parties within mere hours of each other.
• I resolve to make more phone calls and email/IM less.
• I resolve to procrastinate a little less, but I don't know just when I'll start.
• I resolve to simplify my labels for my posts.
• I resolve to irritate anyone who has forgotten to unsubscribe me from their Google Reader with my new post labels.
• I resolve to take my meds on schedule. (This crying without notice truly sucks for everyone around.)
• I resolve to kiss my babies cheeks, nibble their toes, caress their skin and snuggle their heads under my neck.
• I resolve to nap whenever possible.
• I resolve to shave my legs as often as possible for a mom with a (almost) 1 year-old.
• I resolve to rub my smooth, shaven legs against The Mighty Hunter's.
• I resolve to continue to support Amy, my beautician, through my dependence on her mad skillz with the scissors and dye. (I cover my natural platinum blonde. It's NOT gray! Shut up, you'll make me cry.)
• I resolve to paint my toe nails from time to time.
• I resolve to try to keep a cleaner house.
• I resolve to use my new cookware and love it everytime my eggs don't stick.
• I resolve to teach Stinkerbell to cook. (You should try her "Famous Baked Potatoes" and "Famous Mashed Potatoes!")
• I resolve to finish this list... now.
• I resolve to encourage Stinkerbell to work hard in school and sports and her other interests and not make the minimal effort that still produces great results.
• I resolve to finish this list... right now. I promise.

If you're still here, thank you. Also, get a life.

Really.

But, if you're still here now, I wish you a wonderful 2008. I pray that in whatever it holds for you and your families, you will find joy and grace and beauty somewhere in every day the Lord gives you. I hope you will enjoy His love for you. I thank you for your friendship. I love you for your prayers. I look forward to reading and sharing with each of you.

God bless you all.

or rather...

God bless y'all.

whatchathink?

Crying out for help here

To all (3) of you who have felt pity for me googled "slumber parties" or "ginormous cheap bunnies" stopped by to visit...

Stinkerbell will be turning 7 soon. (TOO soon!!! The heart, it is breaking.) I have talked her down from a Build-A-(very over-priced)Bear party, which would include driving 6 kids to a mall that is, at a MINIMUM, 1 hour from home and chasing them around the mall and store to build a bear. The website claims that a party can be had for as little as $10/kid.

Tempting, huh?

Don't be fooled.

The $10/kid gets them one animal, apparently there are cheap animals and not-cheap animals available from which to choose. This is the cheapest. And, certainly you know that the whole Build-A-Bear experience is all about the accessories and sounds and extras and investment.

So, guess what you get to go with your cheapest bear for $10/kid?





See that space right up there? That's your answer.

Nada.

Well, I suppose, not nada. You probably get one of those ginormous boxes that I feel certain would simply become a home to dust bunnies, because it could NEVER be thrown away.

gasp! It was the box that once held an over-priced, under-accessorized bear from a very stressful 7th birthday party! The horror!!!

Now, naturally, you can pay more than $10 per kid. But seriously. Do you think that other people's kids are worth more than $10? Be honest. My kid is worth a pile of cash to me. But her BFF's? $10 is probably my max.

kidding!!! (obviously kidding! Since I took 3 of her friends to Libby Lu last year!)



So, I have convinced her that a slumber party is PERFECT for her 7th birthday.

(Hold your applause till the end, please.)

(And when I say "the end," I mean till AFTER the party has successfully proven my insanity and they have carried me away in the newest look in white canvas jackets. You know, the ones with all the oddly placed buckles?)

(But won't the medication be fun?)

ahem

Slumber party...

But not just any slumber party. noooo. This will be a Rock Star/Spa Slumber Party, complete with a chauffer (me), a limousine (the Pimped-Out Mamamobile), fine dining (local restaurant that has a dance floor), red carpet (well, carpet, anyway), stylists (Bev and Mama Peg and me), private screening of the greatest kids movie (HSM2) and the finest in spa hotel linens (sleeping bags).

There'll do facials (lotions and cucumbers). Manicures. Hair-styles. And lots of junk food.

How did you ever guess that I have a habit of over-planning?



Here's the thing...

I need help with the invitation wording.

We would like for the girls to arrive dressed in their "fanciest Rock Star" clothes, (Here's a valid question: Shouldn't we dress like that everyday?) bring a sleeping bag and pillow and any makeover stuff they already have. (We've had pinkeye in our house this month, and I don't think sharing makeup and facial products and swollen, gooey, matted-closed eyes are a good idea.)

Oh, and the phrasing should be rhyming and funny and, above all, cool.

Come to Stinkerbell's Rock Star/Spa/Sleepover Party on Saturday, January 26. We will leave for dinner at Archie's at 5:30pm. We will return home to begin the Spa Treatments (bring your own cootie-infested makeup and facial stuff.) We will then watch High School Musical 2 and sing and dance and eat junk food till someone pukes (keep your cell phone ringers ON so that you can be summoned to retrieve your sick kid.) When total physical exhaustion sets in, the Rock Stars will collapse, in accurate Rock Star fashion, in the living room floor (send a sleeping bag and pillow and whatever lovey they need to sleep the night through) (again, keep your cell phone CHARGED and ON so that I can summon you to retrieve your weeping, homesick Rock Star.) When the evil sunlight awakens the Rock Stars, I will pump them full of sugar and caffeine so that you can retrieve them at 9:30 am. At 10 am, I will tie them to the fence posts at the road and let them find a ride home, much like one-hit-wonders do - with their thumbs in the air.

What do you think?

Christmas bullets...

... you know... as in "jingle bells, shotgun shells..."

• The bottom burner on my oven decided it was time to retire just before its call to active duty for all the requisite Christmas baking.
• The replacement of said bottom burner was accomplished by The Mighty Father-in-law and The Mighty Brother-in-law (that hurt to say, since he's a weenie and all.)
• The Mighty Hunter was unavailable for the repair since he was feeding the homeless hunting.
• No one was electrocuted during the repair. But their was a loud POP! and a flash of FIRE! and a mumbled "maybe we should turn off the power before we unhook it."
• The Mighty Hunter fancies himself a Mighty Turkey Roaster and volunteered to cook the turkey for - not one - TWO family meals.
• Cooking the first turkey set off the smoke alarm.
• The smoke alarm is connected to the security system.
• The monitoring company called and tried to hide their laughter when I explained that the smoke alarm was going off because we were cooking a turkey.
• It is the design of the recipe that their is an excessive amount of smoke produced.
• It was the moistest, yummiest, juicies, deliciousest turkey I've ever eaten. (All hail, Alton Brown!)
• Stinkerbell nearly cried over the thought that the weather might be too good and the sky too clear for Rudolph to fly with Santa.
• Santa's regular stop-over to see if she was in bed relieved her fears, since Rudolph was outside with her.
• She nearly cried over getting to see the "REAL RUDOLPH."
• Rudolph left her an autographed picture and she was stunned and treasures it more than any of the other toys that cost infinitely more than my attempts at photo editing.
• Lucky thought TMX Elmo was a little scary and yelled at him from across the room.
• I got some new cookware (the 7pc and 5pc sets.)
• I got a new bluetooth.
• I got an extra lens for my new camera.
• We spent lots of time with The Mighty Father-in-law's finacee, which was not the first, but was still fun. (This was her first time to see Lucky - period. Yes, I'm bitter about that. Yes, I'll get over it.)
• During my preparations for the traditional clog-your-arteries-eat-yourself-sick Christmas morning breakfast, my microwave died.
• I loved that microwave. It could cook AND run its timer at the same time.
• It rained Christmas Day. A lot. We needed it.
• My roof over my kitchen counter leaked all over Stinkerbell's gingerbread men cookies.
• Stinkerbell never saw the drowned gingerbread men and hasn't noticed their disappearance - yet.
• I'm just now seeing that I've received comments on some of my posts from this month.
• I did NOT get these posts via email. I'm feeling loved again. I'm not invisible.
• I drank sweet tea at lunch - two glasses - and can't sleep. Apparently I can't type either since I'm hitting the Backspace button more than any other key on the old 'puter.
• My mom HAD recovered from her pneumonia and partially collapsed lungs only to get sick again last week.
• She saw her pulmonologist today, pneumonia is back again. She's having a bronchoscopy next Wednesday to determine if there are any blocked passages and possibly get a sample of the pneumonia for identification/culture.
• Lucky turned 11 months on Christmas Day.
• He cut his first top tooth last week. It's his left-hand Lateral Incisor.
• I need sleep in a BAD WAY. And this isn't helping.

In closing, here's the way I see Lucky many times each day. (I haven't rotated the picture.)

I hope your 2007 was full of the blessings of our Lord. I pray that 2008 holds even greater joys for you and your families.

May the best of '07 be the worst of '08.

God bless y'all!

2006 vs 2007

Christmas 2006:
Wiring on the bottom burner in my oven went out and the kitchen sink leaked into the cabinet.
$250

Christmas 2007:
Bottom burner in my oven completely failed.
Roof leaked.
Microwave died.
$to be determined

Merry stinkin' Christmas Lowe's and Sears.

Heaven, here I come...

'Cause I've already been to hell and back.

Hell is a Wal-Mart SuperCenter in Anywhere, USA, the week preceding Christmas.

Hell is a first-grader with pink-eye the last few days of school before the Christmas break, crying herself to sleep because she's missing pajama-day/bring-your-favorite-book-from-home-to-read-to-your-class at school.

Hell is a hyperactive 6 year-old, eating entirely too much cake icing and chocolate-peanut butter combintations in any Wal-Mart SuperCenter in Anywhere, USA, the week preceding Christmas.

Hell is buying groceries in a Wal-Mart SuperCenter in Anywhere, USA, with said amped-up 6 y-o and 11 month-old and trying to remember what you needed to get that you forgot to put on your list.

Hell is trying to go through the self-check-out lane with said amped-up 6 y-o who LOVES to unload or scan the items on which you've just spent her college savings and NOT breaking the eggs or THROWING the eggs across the room or simply collapsing into a puddle of sobs in front of the self-check-out begging the computer to please, just be quiet. would SOMEONE just be quiet!?!?!????!!!

Hell is trying to eye drops in the pink-eye infected 6 y-o's eyes with her squeezing them SHUT without poking her in the eye or crying yourself.

Hell is dealing with the OH SO SENSITIVE feelings of your husband about his dad's fiancee' who doesn't want to spend time with your late mother's family because she feels "strange". (all of which is understandable, but PLEASE JUST COME ONE PEOPLE, GROW THE HECK UP!!!)

Hell is trying to discipline your 6 y-o without being "too hard on her" as you've been reminded by your husband or NOT disciplining her and being told (again, by your husband) "you need to follow through" without bitch-slapping him.

Hell is trying to find your own Christmas Spirit when you're so pissed off at everyone around you that you'd just rather be completely alone. I wonder if I could check myself into a hotel (or a hospital) for some alone time?

Really. I'm just wonderin'.



Merry Christmas, y'all. I hope your Christmas preparations and events are blessed and joyful. Mine are blessed, I'm working on the "joyful" part.





Now, there's a dirty diaper to change. Merry stinkin' Christmas...

Welcome to the Auburn Family Christmas

BooMama is having a Christmas Tour of Homes. Actually, she hosted it yesterday, but I barely managed to get my pictures taken yesterday. I was busy doing more important things, like dusting and vacuuming and sorting through bills I've been ignoring.

Here is a sample of the Christmas clutter decorations and creations around our home this year...


Last year, I found these gift tags that I had hoped Stinkerbell would color to put on our gifts. She is only barely interested in them this year. But we have made some progress. (Coloring is one of the perks of having children, btw.)



We have two Nativity Scenes in our home. "Mine" is in the background, with its breakable, ceramic figures. The one featured belongs to Stinkerbell. I found it a few years ago at Lowe's, labeled "polyresin". I interpreted "polyresin" to mean "unbreakable." Well this might be the case if one's child does not train and deploy the Three Wise Men to kill the bad guys that apparently followed them to the Baby Jesus' birthplace (it's in the Bible, check it out.)



As you can see, there was some collateral damage as The Three Wise Ninjas protected precious Baby Jesus. Joseph lost his right hand and the shepherd's staff was broken.


The Three Wise Ninjas suffered one near-fatal injury. Thanks to the quick thinking of the medic, his head was successfully reattached to his body with the aid of medical grade adhesive.

Below is a creation of Stinkerbell, the Chef Elf. We used the white chocolate/oreo variation, and it is becoming clear that I am developing a nasty addiction to the salty-chocolatey goodness.

Don't make a mess in her kitchen!

This is one of my favorite ornaments decorated with Stinkerbell's sweet little fingers.

This is Lucky's first ornament, which cost way too much. Don't tell The Mighty Hunter.

Here you see a variety of things... 1) Our dining table chairs doing double-duty as a gate around our tree to prevent Lucky from squishing/electrocuting himself. 2) Our tree, with its crooked, homemade star, and entirely too many lights. 3) The reindeer imprisoned behind the gate, on their best behavior, lest they experience the same fate as the deer with their heads stuck through our wall. 4) My old, dirty curtains. 5) Tracks in the carpet, proof that I do vacuum more than once a year.

Here are two of my absolute favorite things about Christmas: pretty babies in warm, new, coordinating pjs.

Merry Christmas y'all. God bless us everyone.

Labor of Love

We've been married 15 years, as of September 5, 2007. Our beginning was modest, as college seniors (at Auburn, of course), we had no money for gifts. I don't remember what I gave The Mighty Hunter. He took some old barn wood, scrubbed the filth off it, sealed with some sealer-stuff, cut it to size and made a "potato bin" for me. I still have it and use it to hold gardening stuff at the back door (gloves, bug spray, etc.) Its design was not ideal for potatoes, but that doesn't matter much.

Over the following years, we have been blessed to be able to increase our gift-giving funds each year. For a few years, however, I bought my own gifts. I got a great espresso machine and some other things that I no longer know where they are. I wrapped my own gifts and labeled them "To Auburn Gal - From The Mighty Highty Hunter".

It didn't bother me then. And it doesn't bother me now that I did it. He was working some really crazy hours and I was able to do it all for us then. No kids. No job of my own. Free schedule. Apartment 10 blocks from the Galleria. Those were the days.

But he wasn't satisfied with my not having any surprises on Christmas morning.

So, I took my favorite catalogs and marked the things in it, noting size and colors and handed it to him.

If YOU'VE picked it out, then it's not going to be a surprise.

You don't have to get me EVERYTHING in here - although, I wouldn't complain about it. And I won't know which things you've picked out for me. The gift is in your effort to call and place the order and get the stuff wrapped.

And he did. And the Auburn Gal saw it and was pleased. And there were several Merry Christmases to be had thereafter. He even picked out somethings in my catalogs that I had not marked, and I loved them too. (It is surprising me more and more what good taste he is developing.) (I take credit for it, of course.) (His mother, God rest her soul, had tacky taste. Can you say "knit ties and pale blue tweed suits?")

Last year, he truly surprised me with a beautiful cross necklace with diamonds on it. Totally unexpected. Not very practical right now with a baby that likes to pinch me on the neck constantly, but I love it.

This year, you may have already seen what he got me and already gave me.

Yesterday, he left work a little early to do what he does - hunt. He let me know that he would not be by right after leaving the woods so that he could go to his aunt's house (Beverly/Beboo) and "take care of something."

Wrap my presents?

Maybe... Well, yes. But I'm not telling you what you're getting.

So, he called to let me know he was safely out of the woods and that he was stopping at Kmart - did I need anything from there? The time was 6pm.

At 8:30, I decided that he had played "Medal of Honor" long enough while Bev wrapped my gifts and that his kids needed to see him before they went to bed.

One gift still needed a bow and he would be on his way. Oh, and he was starving, would I leave the chili out for him? Never mind, Bev had a frozen dinner for him.

At the front door, he appeared with 5 boxes, each with hand-tied bows. 2 are pretty large (18"h x 24"w x 12" d) and heavy. Three are small. Two appear to be a shirt box and probably has clothing in it. The smallest is probably a blue-tooth.

Yes, I shake my gifts. Shut up.

I have no idea what is in the big boxes or the shirt boxes. I guess the blue-tooth because I've whined about my hand-me-down one for a few months and have finally refused to charge it so that I can say that it doesn't work at all. It's 2 years old and was his until he replaced it with a T-mobile one.

The thing is, it really doesn't matter what is in any of the boxes. He went to Kmart (which is the dirtiest and worst-organized one in the world) to buy paper and ribbon. He sat on the floor for 2 1/2 hours, wrapping the boxes, only allowing Bev to hand him tape. He tied the bows himself, except the last one - to which he relented and let Bev finish, mainly due to extreme hunger.

His gift to me - as strange and sad as it may seem - is the paper on the boxes that I'll let Stinkerbell tear off. The bows, with their creases and sweet curls, if I can't save them from the garbage bag, will go in the box of bows to be used next year.

He is not experienced or naturally gifted at folding paper around boxes. It is just not in the genetics of a Mighty Hunter.

But it's in his heart.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

I hope your upcoming days are full of all that is good and right in this world. May your thoughts and prayers return, daily, to the Reason we celebrate. I hope your gifts are exactly what you requested or at least wrapped with the love of their hearts. And if you've never received the most important Gift of all, I pray that you open your heart to it now.







Wise men still seek Him.

wow

Surprises Suck

I hate surprises. If you have something for me that you would to be a surprise, then just frickin surprise me already. Don't taunt me with your childish:

"I know something you don't know."
or
"I know what you're getting for Christmas and you don't!"

Cuz, lemmetellya, Buddy. I'll find out what that stinkin' surprise is if it kills me.

Years ago, after buying MY first brand new car (1998 Maxima), I asked for a cd player to put in it. I wanted a Nissan player not some tacky aftermarket that wouldn't fit right in the hole. One night, I noticed a very large and heavy box had appeared under our Christmas tree. Like many men, The Mighty Hunter hasn't found his inner Martha Stewart to channel and is not a highly skilled gift wrapping guy.

Let's just cut to the quick: he's lucky to cover the box with ONE TYPE of wrapping paper, all right? And this was the case with this large, heavy gift. I know it was heavy because I picked it up and tried to shake it. I was too heavy to shake and identify its contents.

Yes, I shake my gifts. Shut up.

I also teamed up with my brother as kids to find every. single. present. our parents bought and hid. They figured out what we were doing and began wrapping them before hiding them. This only allowed me the opportunity to develop my amazing gift-cracking skills. I can successfully cut the tape at the edge of the wrapping paper, unwrap a gift, identify it, play with the toy (as a kid, that is) (well, maybe now too, whatever), re-wrap the gift in the SAME paper, using the SAME folds and creases, and apply new pieces of tape on TOP of the tape I cut very precisely with the blade of my safety scissors and make NO ONE any the wiser.

My mom was dumbfounded when my brother and I confessed to having done this as a kid. My dad just laughed his big Homer-Simpson laugh.

Back to the large and heavy Christmas gift...

I decided that I would have too much difficulty in trying to re-wrap a gift that The Mighty Hunter had wrapped so haphazardly manly and that I should find a different way of verifying the contents of the large and heavy box.

I called the credit card company and asked what the most recent charges were and where they were made.

Regal Nissan + $200 = cd player for my Maxima

And no, the player was NOT large or heavy. He had gotten all his old Cabela's catalogs and piled them into a box on TOP of my cd player to TRY to fool me. Silly, silly man. He had only begun to see the depths of my surprise-loathing obsessions.

Since that year, we have accomplished the Christmas gift shopping for me from him in a few different ways. My FAVORITE way is when I look through a few catalogs, circle the items I like, write in the size and colors I want and let him pick and choose. He has done well at this, and I feel it's a good system.

No, I'm not controlling. I look at it like this. This is one of our ways of expressing our love languages to each other (blech I know.) I love him by telling him what I want him to do and take pressure off him and prevent him from giving me the crappiest gift ever. He loves me by buying me the things I want in the correct size and colors. It's a win-win.

So this year, he has tried to be subtle. Yet he has failed. Twice we've been in Sears looking at stuff - whatever it is in Sears you look at. Each time he has said, which of these cameras is it you want?

"Canon Digital Rebel, but it's too expensive."

"you sure?"

"yes, but not now, it's too expensive."

Saturday, I forced him to go Christmas shopping with me and both kids. His uncle Carl and Carl's wife Beboo, went along too. We do a lot of fun/stupid things with them. Shopping last Saturday definitely falls into the stupid category. In our 15 years of marriage, he has gone Christmas shopping with me to a mall on a weekend ONCE. And that was last Saturday. And, frankly, I'd like for it to be the last. He just doesn't get the "divide and conquer" and meet me at Barney's for coffee in 2 hours game plan.

The first store we stopped in, we spent $300 on him for clothes to wear to work. Stinkerbell got to use a Club Libby Lu gift card and get her hair and make-up and nails done and dance in the middle of Belk's to that dumb cha-cha slide song that makes me want to poke a fluffy glitter sprinkle stick into my ear drums. After spending 90 minutes looking for him some nice clothes, we had lunch in the food court. Then he announced that he needed about an hour to go find something with Carl.

"While I'm gone, try and get something accomplished, willya?" Yes, he actually said that. And no, I'm not writing this from my jail cell, although I would probably be given some kind of award from every other wife that heard him say that had I actually pummeled him to death with my diaper bag.

Beboo and I split up for a little while. The kids and I went looking for Christmas pjs in the Children's Place. As I was walking to the store where Beboo and I agreed to meet up, I passed the Wolf Camera shop and...

What to my wondering eyes should appear
The Mighty Hunter at the sales counter looking at my gift...

After the mall, we went to Target and wasted more time, including 5 minutes when The Mighty Hunter drug me to electronics and forced me to look at the camera again. And then he said, "It's just so expensive. And I already have something for you. Why don't we wait and save up for it for our anniversary next year or next Christmas."

And I just smiled, "that's fine. We can save up for it. It's not a big deal, really."

On the way home, he brought it up again, saying, "why don't you use your Minolta anymore? Would you use it if I got you some really good film?"

So, to answer Jennifer's question about what I'm getting for Christmas...

Sunday night, I got mine. And I love it.

and I didn't even tell him that I saw him in the camera shop.

I'll let him enjoy his false superiority.

Is it wrong to be smug about this?

updates ad nauseum

Mom's health is improving. Thank you for your prayers. Her PT is making very slow progress (pneumonia and collapsed lungs will complicate that.) But she will recover. She needs herniated disc repair in her neck (lower place and no, it couldn't be done at the same time as the tumor-ectomy) and also in her lower back. Both of these surgeries must wait for her to recover from the tumor surgery and pneumonia. But we have a lot of hopes pinned to them for an even better situation for her.

Lucky is big and charming and crawling and pulling up to furniture and climbing stairs and charming and smart and loving and charming and handsome and loud and funny and charming. He sings like a Mourning Dove and growls like a monster.

Stinkerbell is SMART. According to the Standardized Tests That Will Forever Determine Your Child's Future and Give You Alternating Fits of Joy and Despair, she has advanced (in 6 weeks time) from reading equal to or better than 70% of all first-graders in the US to that of 96%. She is reading at 2nd-3rd grade levels. Now, according to the Non-Standardized Tests That We As Knowledgeable And Genius Parents have administered to her, she is adding 3 columns of numbers, subtracting 2 columns and carrying/borrowing numbers IN. HER. HEAD. I can't do this in my head. Sheesh, it's a challenge on paper! Now I can calculate a 33% discount on a pair of $99 boots. THAT'S useful stuff, folks.

The Mighty Hunter is hunting and not killing. As he says, "that's why it's called hunting." He took his aunt (Beboo) hunting Saturday afternoon and she bagged a small 5-point. She was soooooo excited. Giddy, even.

After awaking at 4:30AM! yesterday, I was able to get to sleep at an unusually early 10:30 last night. Don't envy me. It wasn't a good night. Not good at all. At 1:30, someone (caller ID says Joe Howard - and yes, I did just out you, Mrs. Joe Howard. Don't call my house EVER AGAIN!) jolted me from my slumber with an "uh oh, I must have the wrong number."

Then, sometime after that, I got, still asleep, to pee. I know that I didn't wet the bed for a number of reasons: 1) The bed is dry. 2) I woke The Mighty Hunter with the loud cracking sound made when I walked into the bathroom door. 3) The bed is dry. (I think the bed being dry is note-worthy in itself, since I sleep-walked to the bathroom and would have slept through it had I not centered the OPEN! door with my right eyebrow bone.)

Thirdly, Lucky awoke, hungry. I have weined him (shrinking the milk boobs down to NOTHING, FLAT. pun intended.) He has transitioned to formula in a bottle like it's all he ever had. He still gets all giggly and bouncing-up-and-down when I fiddle with the buttons on my shirt or change in front of him, so I no longer do this. I also can't scratch my neck or chest without him salivating. I fear I've created the Boob Man of all Boob Men. However, he was hungry at 3:30 this morning and the Pappy wouldn't do the job. FINALLY, The Mighty Hunter left his coma-like sleep long enough to hold Lucky while I staggered down the stairs to fix a warm bottle.

And, to finish off a crappy night of interrupted sleep and bruised faces, the alarm woke me up this morning. It just seems fair to me that if you have a really rough night that the next could be DELAYED or cancelled or SOMETHING! But, no. I'm awake. I got Stinkerbell fed, dressed and off to school. But I'm still in my pjs and robe and could certainly fall asleep without much encouragement or excuse.

Christmas shopping is later and harder this year than it has ever been for me. Even last year, when I was VERY PREGNANT and waddly and gimpy-legged from the 9 lb. behemoth on my left sciatic nerve and helping with the father-in-law who had prostate surgery and working part-time and all, I had my shopping ALMOST done by now. This year, though, I've got about 1/3 of my shopping done. I even guilt-tripped The Mighty Hunter into going shopping with me one day last week! And he DID! We were able to buy for all of our neices and nephews and God-sons and a good bit for Lucky and a little bit for Stinkerbell. But the HARD gifts are still looming, the ink fading and being obscured by the wrinkles and folds on the List.

Can someone out there Photoshop a picture of a REAL REINDEER so that it has the appearance of Rudolph? I would be soooo thankful. This is one of the things that Stinkerbell has asked Santa to bring her. That and a PET reindeer.

Seriously, I need a REAL picture of Rudolph. And if you could somehow put an autograph on it, you would totally rock this 6 year-old's Christmas morning.



Now, on to more (or less) important updates...

Auburn totally beat the CRAP out of alabama. Golly, I love my Tigers!