Holiday Madness in a Sinking Economy

I have no clue why, but cleaning my fridge this morning made me think of the holidays. What do the two of them have in common? I have NO stinking idea and if you do, please fill me in.

Now as I was thinking about the holidays, it drew me back to last Christmas when we were basically broke, the country was broke, and we were like any other parents; completely frantic about "How" we were going to afford presents for the kids. It was bad... it was real bad.

The kids were "forced" to name only two items they wanted; one from us and one from Santa - that was it! We didn't have the money; we were barely keeping our head above water regarding bills.

I was pissed! Not that we couldn't afford an orgy of presents for the kids, but the fact that cultural conditioning has dictated that you are a LOSER of a parent if you don't! In other words, I am a loser mom if I don't condition my kids to think that Christmas is the time of year to be the biggest asshole of a consumer you can be. Even if you have to knock someone over at a Black Friday sale at WalMart's to do so!

Thank God being poor last Christmas gave me a stinking reality check!

We managed to get the kids exactly the two items each they wanted - how, I have no clue - but we pulled it off. The kids even managed to surprise me with a few gifts of their own which I cherish today - one of which was a new cutting board cause they know how I value a good cutting board in my kitchen. Where they got the money, I have no clue and I didn't ask either.

This year, we plan to do the same as last year - Keep It Freaking Simple!

I no longer am going to be held prisoner by "Madison Avenue" who says I need to spend every last dollar I have, jack up the credit card balances, and beg the doctor for medication to get through the holidays just so corporate thieves and pigs CEO's can sit back and demand lower taxes for themselves while they drain us of every last penny we earn - AND downsize their employees while raising their bonuses because they didn't make their quotas for Christmas!

Let's look at a few growing issues this country has:

▪ China and Russia have decided to renounce the US dollar and resort to using their own currencies for bilateral trade. Dollar bad, dollar real bad now!

▪ Jobless rate jumps to 9.8% and hiring has slowed down.

▪ Federal employees get a 2-year wage freeze while corporations shell out $144 billion in pay and bonuses this year - a 4% increase over last year. BTW, that's your bailout money their giving each other again.

▪ The cost of living has skyrocketed in the past 25 years while minimum wage has only increased 3 times over that period. Which means, if you make minimum wage ($7.25/hour) and working 40 hours a week, you are STILL living in poverty! Hey McDonalds' - you listening???

▪ It's not enough that YOUR money went to bail out more thieves and crooks CEO's in the financial industry of this country, but now YOU are going to bail out Europe as well now!

▪ WalMart is still the only company making money, and still screwing over it's employees as it laughs itself silly to the bank (that you bailed out), and pays more lobbyists so they can assure themselves that you will continue your stampede next year on Black Friday at some God-awful hour of the morning!

▪ No one has any real jobs to offer anyone - this country doesn't make anything anymore.

▪ As of this writing, 2,196,154 homes have been foreclosed on and they have NO idea where to put that freaking Christmas tree or Menorah this year!

But spending GOBS of money

on useless shit

we pretty much don't need is

SO much more important

than these issues - right!

I implore you - no, I'm downright begging you - this year, don't do this. Grandma does NOT need another Chia Pet, and Snuggies are a useless waste of time, energy, and money when you already know how to wear your robe backwards! If you're still cold, get your lazy arss off the sofa and go get a blanket!

This year, we're doing like last year:

2 gifts each,

a bunch of cooking in the sweet department,

and time with friends and family.

Even though we are decking the halls in a lot better condition than last year (major kudos to God on that one!), we are not keeping up with the Joneses anymore.

I seriously can go on (and you know I can), but I'm gonna leave you with a video I saw last night that just smacked me in the face with a big dose of "WTF are we doing as a society?" I'm sharing it with you because I think you and your family are so much more important than the latest "Potty Putter".

"The Madness of a Lost Society"

Oh, now I think I know why the fridge reminds me of the holidays; all of this stinks unless we collectively decide to actually look at the problem and then start cleaning this mess up instead of leaving up to a lousy maid service (Fed Reserve, Wall Street and a bunch of idiots in Washington who care more about their wallets and jobs than you surviving), to do.

Would you leave an unreliable maid service to clean up after the holidays?

What's the difference?

Cleaning Up From the Holidays - One Broken Ornament at a Time

Well I finally got all the Christmas decorations packed up and put away. No, I am NOT one of those who think it is acceptable to leave the decorations until, like, Valentines Day. You know the people that I'm talking about though; the ones whose house you drive by at July 4th and they still have that damn wreath hanging on the front and the lights still attached to the gutter.

What's that term we like to call them? Uh, uh, trailer something?

I went on a little trip (that post coming soon), over the New Year's to my biological family's house and told my other half to just leave the decorations alone until I got back since I have a few self made OCD issues with the way they are packed.

Does he listen? Oh hell no! It's another classic male chromosomal moment folks! Where they suddenly go deaf as they put the empty milk carton back into the fridge that you've told them three times already to throw away!

While I'm at the biological family's house, I'm having a convo on the phone with him about what he's been up to while his own DNA has been out of town.

"I cleaned the house!", he says with pride over the cell phone waves.

"What do you mean you cleaned the house?", I reply with a massive boom of suspicion in my voice.

"Well, I put up ALL the Christmas decorations and cleaned the house!", he says with more enthusiasm than a boy who has proudly proclaimed he just stuck a frog down his sisters pants would.

"What do you mean you put up the Christmas decorations!", I reply with a same amount of panic that the boys sister would once the frog slid down the leg of her pants.

"I took them all down and carefully packed them away. It's ALL done!", he says as beaming sunshine radiates out of my cell phone at the same time.

"Are you sure they're all packed safely in their original boxes; and where did you put all the ornaments?", voice shaking in the process.

"Yep, sure are, and the ornaments are all put away as well in the box.", he chirps one more time

"Where is the tree?"

"I took it outside to be picked up."

"Where is the tree stand?", I continue to interrogate him.

"It's still on the tree.", he slowly replies

"Well you need to take it off before someone takes the tree with the stand still on it.... don't you?", I say half yelling at him as the kids start to look up at me with a degree of "uh, oh", in their eyes knowing that mommy's head is about to fly off at any moment in front of their eyes.

"Uh, yeah, uh.... I forgot about that. But I'll take care of it!", he reassures me.

Why, oh why, do I feel a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. See, the hubs idea of cleaning is literally sweeping the slate clean! Not putting it away, but sweeping into some portion of the house, or storage box, that is not currently being cluttered with other stuff he has previously swept there before.

He has ADOD - Attention Deficit in the Organization Department!

But I'm gonna give him the benefit of the doubt because that is what I'm suppose to do..... right? No! So I'm not, and with good reason.

So I finally got home a week later only to walk in the house to see half the decorations still out and some still hanging in their original spots.

WHAT exactly did he put up?

The tree is sitting in the middle of the front door walk way with the stand still attached, but sans ornaments at least. Did he think that the stand would magically take itself off and roll itself into the garage with the rest of the ornament boxes.

Then I notice the Advent calendar still on top of the armoire where I had to rescue it from the the midget who was determined to play with Santa as he turned around when each calendar door was opened, completely freaking me out each time she did it.

Did I mention I have OCD at this time of year?

WHERE exactly did he put everything?

BTW, the house does not look as if it has been cleaned. Unless you consider the kitchen sink free of dirty dishes "a house cleaned".

I purposely ignored it for the past week as I got the kids all use to going back to school and resuming something that resembles responsibility in the homework department, but today I decided to drag out all the Christmas storage boxes and try not to give myself a heart attack figuring how and what he did.

Well THAT didn't work because I was laid out on the kitchen floor in front of my kids and my daughter's friend, who spent the night last night, literally having a grand maul heart attack in front of all of them after I opened the five storage crates.

Stuff I have collected since I was 18 was "stuffed" and "crammed" in every possible position without any of their protective boxes or coverings. Ornaments, which are normally wrapped individually (OCD style), were instead, crammed in completely disarray in a box and stacked in the garage among some other storage boxes that had nothing to do with Christmas.

Here comes the stroke!

And will someone please explain to me why my antique manger scene had half the heads snapped off! The manger itself is going to need some major repair as it is half fallen apart!

Here comes the part where my eyes, ears, and nose start bleeding profusely from the blood vessels exploding in my head!

WHAT did he do!!

Needless to say, I had to take everything out of the boxes and repack everything all over again. In the process, all these things that I have carefully taken care of all these years in hopes of handing them down to my kids like any other hoarding, over nostalgic mother, look like they had been handled by, well, my kids!

I found a few of my Christmas village scenes broken, the Nutcrackers mouth no longer stays shut thus making him look like he's in constant begging mode like the cat.

What he said took him 2 days.... 2 days, to do took me only two hours to unpack, repack, and store in the holiday corner of our garage. It would have taken only an hour except I had to have a few major temper tantrums, crying fits, and several rounds of expletives in the privacy of my own closet before the process was through.

My daughters friend gave me lot's of sympathy and even tried to help, but I know THAT she knows that I'm the official crazy birth mother of her best friend. Toni was the only one who got a clue and decided the best course of action was to hide in her room until the whole episode was over.

There is nothing like having a minor nervous breakdown in front of your kids friends. It makes lasting memories for them when they get older that they will truly kick your ass for, after years of being in therapy.

So between the ornamental pandemonium,

my cats,

my self-made obsessive behavior,

the sperm donor completely screwing a bank account,

and indolently successfully completed my New Year's resolutions

I have made it almost half way through the first month of the New Year without shaving my head bald!

It's shaping up to be a damn fine year!

Kids Are Watching Everything - Even When They Are Ignoring You

So I'm writing to you today as I'm nursing/over medicating a cold, so if I sound a little nasal, or delirious, it's because I'm on a Robitussin, Benadryl, NyQuil, Lexapro trip right now - bear with me - and let us all thank GOD all the kids are in school. Sometimes I think that when I feel like this, no one in this house has a clue what I'm going through.

I'm suspecting that one of my kids gave this to me cause they've taking turns coughing and hacking since Halloween. Or, it was quite possibly a stranger that I passed by during one of those gotta get before Christmas moments where a thousand people are crammed into a ten square foot space and clawing one another for the hottest Christmas present while growling a "Merry Christmas to you TOO", between clenched teeth.

MIne would have to be the Rockstar So Chic Stylin Salon Makeover Vanity that I was vying for because Nia has been reminding me three times a day for the past two months, that she wants this from Santa. Everybody else was fighting over fake hamsters, a.k.a., Zhu Zhu Pets; one of which, Mr. Squiggles, was recalled already.

"I'm sorry Johnny, Mr. Squiggles has to go to the vet cause he's sick already. Must have been the high altitude in Santa's sleigh."

THREE DAYS LATER.......

"I'm sorry Johnny, Mr. Squiggles had to be put to sleep. He's with his Zhu Zhu buddies in heaven now."

Kids whole existence has now been altered because a furry fake hamsters made in China had to be euthanized before he could let it run through the tubes of his fake hamster home. This is why I pray that the kids don't go for the "hottest toy for Christmas" bullshit. So far, I've been lucky.

Okay, BACK to the present here!


After all this holiday hysteria, the head feels like someone stuffed a bag and a half of cotton balls up my nose, and the lungs feel like a gallon of sludge (eww gross), is rumbling around in them, my ears are popping so much that it sounds like cap guns going off in my head constantly, and I'm expected to breath and function as a normal mom:

cough* *cough,
*sneeze* *sneeze*
*blow* *blow*
*grab NyQuil and gulp*
*fall on the floor and don't get up till New Year's Day!*

It all really came to a boil when I had to spend four hours at the bank on Monday because the sperm donor I married completely screwed up that bank account several months ago, and I've been trying to get it fixed every since. I thought it was fixed soon after the "screw up", but then I found myself ON MY BIRTHDAY dragging myself down to the main branch for two hours, and then on the phone till after noon getting it fixed.

Which of course they reassured me that it was - several times - but actually, it wasn't!

So Monday I went in again and it took Ms. Willie (which was her first name and NOT her last name, and I couldn't really get too hostile with a person who's mom was STUPID enough to name her daughter Willie), almost an hour before she could actually get it that the bank was in error this time.

After all the millions/billions/trillions of dollars we taxpayers have unwillingly doled out to the banking system in this country, it completely amazes me that we are still getting penalized by the very industry we helped to bail out. I was actually being told to prove that I didn't have a loan with this bank that they took a loan payment out for!

I was getting upset and apparently this was making Ms. Willie so nervous that she thought it would be best if she took a five minute break from me. That's my father coming out in me - either that or the uncontrollable twitching that my eye was going through now, because I just couldn't get her to see what I was seeing.

It literally took me bursting out in blubbering tears and laying my head on her desk in sobs before she finally had that light bulb moment and said: "Something doesn't look right here." , she says in her best, somewhat broken, English.

Well "DUH!", I'm thinking as she's handing me the box of tissues and rolling up her pant legs in preparation for the flood because so much tears and snot are flowing from my head at this moment. My head is spinning, my nose is stuffing up, it's getting hot in that office, and there is no quick end in sight for this situation.

I sit quietly, except for the sniffles and ruffles of several tissues in my hands. Ms. Willie starts making phones calls to this and that department. My head is also exploding with so much anger towards the sperm donor who's sitting at home right now, that I start developing this uncontrollable muscle spasm in my left thumb that now makes me look like I'm constantly making a hand puppet. All I'm missing is a marker to make a couple of eyes and a pair of lips and I'll have this sucker literally talking to me cause I'm beginning to feel a little crazy between the bank, the sperm donor, the eye twitching, and the hand puppet wanna-be happening now.

I sit on my left hand in hopes that it will stop, but it gets worse so now I look like I have this little hop happening as I sit there. Ms. Willie keeps giving me that "are you gonna go postal on me" look as she looking at the computer and taking calls between three different departments now about my account.

Next thing I know, she/they/whoever they are are putting all the money back into my account that the bank took out; and they're doing it rather quickly.

Damn! This crazy person stuff actually gets you somewhere!

So I start asking what are all these charges that the bank took out besides the "loan payment". "Well, these are all for our GL so we know what they are.", she replies.

"Well that's great, but I don't know what they are, so can you explain them to me?", I politely try to ask, hoping she doesn't notice my sinuses now draining all over my upper lip at this moment.

**SNIIIIFFFFF**

She goes back to looking at my paperwork, then looking at the computer, then telling me it's a GL entry, but she still canNOT tell ME what these charges are actually for. All I know is that they are putting the money back in as fast as they can.

"Can I take your number and call you back to tell you what they mean?"

Translation:
They have no FREAKING idea what they did that resulted in two checks bouncing and a couple of nasty legal letters being mailed to my doorstep.

Doesn't matter now; the bank returned my funds, they're fixing it, they're typing out apology letters, but my head is completely clogged now with snot that formed over my bawling on the desktop, and I my whole body is twitching and jerking from a stress-induced adrenaline rush that has no end in sight.

All I say to the sperm donor when I get home is: "Don't even THINK of talking to me about this right now!"

I had the twitches and jerks still when the kids came home from school. Nadia is very intuitive about situations like this, so she steers me in the direction of my bathroom and runs me a very hot bath, gives me a hug and closes the door behind her. I crawl into a ball amongst the steaming hot water and let the bath salts permeate my stuffy nose.

I am soon joined by the four year old midget who simply picks up the wash cloth and starts washing my back while humming a soft tune to herself. There are still no words exchanged as Toni quietly opens the door and lays my pajamas on the sink beside me and gets my toothbrush and lotion ready for when I get out. She flashes me a quick smile and blows a kiss as she exits while Nia is still drizzling hot water over my shoulders.

Quietly Nia leans over and whispers: "Mom, you must remember what we all know - you ARE much stronger than you think."

I feel the tears sting my eyes as I marvel at the wisdom of such a little child.

The next hour is spent with the girls massaging my feet, my shoulders, and my still twitching thumb which they think is absolutely hilarious. I feel the cold settling into my system, but the whole bank episode is now a quick fading memory.

I am reminded of what my cousin said to me not long ago; "My children are watching me more than I think they are." Sometimes I wish this wasn't so, especially since Nia figured out how to open her own Facebook account. I am once again reminded why I transform into my father from time to time; to protect and fight for this little kingdom I have created.

It is also why, regardless of the cold or not, I will fight the germ-ridden masses for that Rockstar So Chic Stylin Salon Makeover Vanity that Nia has reminded me three times a day that she wants from Santa. Plus the Guitar Hero, and the Barbie Townhouse, and the Fallout Video game add-on's, and the 14 different kind of Barbies, and the clothes, and the gift cards, and the homemade marshmallows, and the candy, and..........

Because beneath it all, kids do notice, even when we think they are ignoring us 95% of the time.

Thank God they weren't at the bank with me...... which, BTW, has yet to call me back to explains those charges on my account.

My Christmas Kitties from Hell!

It's that time of year again where we folks painstakingly drag our holiday decorations from their cobwebbed infested corners because we haven't paid much attention to them since last year. I have to wonder why we do this when it causes more arguments, cussing, and back injuries just so we can take that one single day of the year to sit back with our Aunt Willammena's "special" (gag) eggnog and admire all the ripped (expensive) wrapping paper on the floor as the kids fight/knock each other out, over who gets to use the Wii first.

Because it's Christ-MAS - THAT'S why!

Which brings me to the fact that I have finally dragged mine out from the garage from the 8 different areas that that man I married decided to put them throughout the year of constantly rearranging and cleaning out the garage, even though it still looks the like the same wreck it started out as. He must have thought I wanted to go on a scavenger hunt this year for the decorations.

At least he could have left me a map!

I spent the better part of the morning though, gluing a camels head and legs back on because one of the kids (which shall remain nameless at this time), thought it a good idea to take him for a ride a week after I brought him home from the estate sale of the lady that died around the corner from our house.

I also spent that time apologizing profusely to this poor old dead woman and promising (taking a vow) that I would care for her items she so loved by wrapping them in wads of bubble wrap and securing them in a lock box at the bank so that that nameless child never plays with them again.

Even though the tree decorations are out and ready to adorn our live fresh, can't remember what kind it is, tree - I don't dare put them on. This will only result in 4, count them, 4 major meltdowns when the kids come home. One meltdown from the 4 year old midget is enough, but add three others to the mix and momma's ready to down some of Aunt Willamena's crappy eggnog in one gigantic gulp!

So as they sit in the box while I choose what I am allowed to put out at the moment, I am left with two very curious cats who have awaken from their mid-morning naps to check out what I am rustling around with in the room next to them.

Why now?

As I gently removed fragile villages that I have purchases for an amazingly cheap price at Target's after Christmas sales that I hope will survive till the kids get old enough for me to pass/dump onto them and their kids - those cats get even more curious.

Soon Chowder starts pawing, then eating the tree. Now we all know that if he gets too curious and too excited about the movement that tree is beginning to make, I will have that thing laying across my floor with pine needles everywhere and a big sopping wet spot where I just watered the damn thing.

So I shoo him away, three, four, five.... oh hell, I lost count how many times.

Now when the bubble wrap comes off some of my large items like Santa, and a tree Nia and I made together when she was 2, they cats suddenly find a new fascination. They are so fascinated that it soon sounds like gunfire going off in my living room as they rip into the bubbly plumes of plastic now covering my floor, jump back from the noise, then attack again as if it's going to mutate and engulf them in a clear plastic hell.

I have boxes all over the floor and table, glitter on my face that I can see out of my eye but can't seem to remove and it's driving me crazy, plus 2 frantic cats fighting with bubble wrap as they stream it all over the house.

I'm putting up with all of this because it's Christmas!

Next thing I know, the two rats with fur are going through the boxes because, apparently, they are bored with the bubble wrap at this point. The next thing I see is Remi dragging out my fake poinsettia's and running across the floor with Chowder running behind them.

I'm off for the chase!

The two of them plant themselves in the hallway and proceed to attach claws to fake leaves and bat and chew it to death.

I DON'T THINK SO!!

I suddenly turn to see the silver tree garland that one of them managed to sneak off with without my seeing. I guess this is gonna be the year I'll be pulling tinsel out of one of their butts!

Ewwww, gross!

It's time to be mean kitty mommy and put the two delirious furballs outside where maybe the cold wind this morning will calm them down. Either that or they'll just finish off my garden with all that excited energy they've managed to accumulate while tearing up the Christmas decorations.

Back inside I check the status of the Elmer glued camel, only to discover that one of the cats got to that too, and the head and two legs are strewn all over the kitchen counter.

Another apology to the poor old dead woman.

I decide to give up for the morning and instead make this a process done over the next few days instead of "surprising" the kids when they get home. I go around the house collecting bubble wrap from various rooms and corners and stuff them all back in a box. Make a mental assessment of what will go where, and to make sure I get chocolates for the Advent Calendar. I know, I'm 10 days late on that one and I'm sure to hear about it from one, or all, of the kids therapist when they become adults on how mommy mentally screwed them up because the Advent Calendar was put up on the tenth and not December 1st!

Sometimes I hate this job!

My optimistic side doesn't worry because the kids and I will knock this decorating out in no time flat as they enlist the help of their friends like they did last year.

"Hot Chocolate anyone?"

At least I won't be outnumbered by felines on the take for holiday decor. By the time they see all those kids coming - they'll be clamoring to get out the back door! But not before they steal a piece of bubble wrap, or two.

A Prima-donna Morning

Today should have been a Monday as hectic as it was. Started out smooth until it came time to get the midget ready for Pre-K. See, I had an appointment at the middle school to help out the twins during a cooking class and being late was not in the cards.

But sometimes being late is Nia's middle name.

Everything worked out fine till it came time to get dressed. Silly Mommy thought Nia would like to dress like a warm princess (since Antarctica decided to pay us a visit this week!), with her pink ballet tu-tu skirt. Nia wasn't having anything to do with it. Instead, she decided it was a day to drag every stitch of clothing out of her drawers, AND what was still in the laundry basket that I didn't finish Monday (or Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday).

We're suppose to be at her school at 9 a.m.,; I'm suppose to be in the twins class at 9:20; it is now 8:55! Why does Nia pick this morning to be such a prima-donna procrastinator?

"I'm late, I'm late.... for a very important date!", I'm singing with my imaginary bunny ears on while hopping around after Nia.

By 9:10, Nia finally decides on her attire which is a combination of both summer and winter couture blended into one big Bohemian mess. Who cares, I GOTTA GO!

All is well until she suddenly decides that ALL the apples and oranges I just bought a the grocery store need to go to school cause they "Don't have any fruit there!", she whines.

No amount of parental firmness is talking her out of taking the fruit. She decides a sit in is in order and she's not budging.

It's now 9:15 and I'm through discussing this with her anymore. I have to go; therefore, I dump the whole kit-n-kaboodle in a paper bag, along with the red heart plate she HAS to display them on and manage to get in the car with her bottom lip still puckered out and her feet, her lunchbox, and her neaopolitan-colored sweater dragging behind her.

She's finally at Pre-K and I'm exceeding the speed limit in a most hazardous way in order to make it to the twins classroom before it's over and I meet them instead, heading for the lunch line. Which will produce a week long sulking/guilt trip on how I am a terrible, neglectful parent to them. Must avoid this at ALL cost cause it's the holidays and I don't have time for sulking, guilt producing twins!

By the time I arrive, marshmallows are already melting on the stove for the Rice Krispy treats they are making. I had no clue what they were cooking up today so I'm letting out a little gag at the thought of fake marshmallows and Rice Krispy's that the twins are going to devour just prior to their lunch. Nadia, of course, has to give me the "You're Late Mom!", look, which makes me realize that she's gonna have a word about this with me later when she gets home from school.

It's the holidays so I'll get over it and join in.

I have no idea why I'm assisting a bunch of kids who already cook like they make this stuff on a daily basis (open mouth - insert finger - gag!). I'm basically the stupid parent standing around doing nothing but acting like I'm doing something, like throwing butter wrappers and paper towels away before they hit the floor and the school gets sued for some kid stepping on one and sliding their way into a prepping table.

Okay, so I am of some use afterall. I'm wondering if some of Nia's prima-donna personality has permeated me somehow.

Did I dare mention that I'm doing all of this in a classroom of very loud 6th graders while sporting a migraine?

Thank you GOD for medication; which doesn't make me feel as much fuzzy as it instead puts me in one of those "I Feel Pretty/Happy", moods. In other words, everything is wonderful; even if one of the stoves exploded from overflowing, chemically-laden marshmallows hitting one of the burners. I don't care! I'm painfree and feeling foo-foo as one of the kids overcooks the butter till it turns brown and leaves the kitchen with that sickly burnt butter smell.

The teacher wanted me to stay for the next class and help out, but I opted to sneak out the back door cause I know the medication isn't going to last that long. I do not need a migraine and more of that burnt butter smell at the same time. My thoughts are on all that laundry I still have to fold; especially the PE shirt that Nadia has to have NOW because she thinks she's going to fail 6th grade if she misses wearing it for one day during gym class.

Neurosis runs rampant in my family.

I am SO looking forward to her teenage years! NOT!!! I'll need more medication then.

I'm now sitting at home looking at two laundry baskets full of laundry, it's cold, and I need another cup of coffee. After the twins cooking class, I feel kinda inspired to make truffles and OD on them this morning. That leads my thoughts wandering to Christmas again.

You know, on a day like today, I think it's best served if I go dig out the Christmas decorations instead. If anyone hasn't heard from me in a few days, you'll find me under a multitude of plastic-filled crates that contain holiday garland and a tacky Santa Claus from Tuesday Morning.

Just listen for the "Deck The Halls" tune, dig me out, and revive me with a creamy chocolate truffle.

Just promise me you won't feed me any of the leftover Rice Krispy treats the twins made today.