Monday Monday

I have this really horrible habit of wanting to eat whatever other people are eating. Other people typically being my husband or my sisters. Though, I admit that when anyone orders French fries, I have seriously considered sneaking one while they're not looking. To not do so involves a little tact and a lot of self-restraint. But mostly self-restraint.

Fortunately, I do not have to practice restraint with family. Doesn't a warm, toasted bagel with a slathering of cream cheese always seem so much more delicious when someone else fixes it? I think so. Likewise with a simple ham sandwich. Don't get me wrong, I could easily slap some meat and cheese between two slices of bread and call it a day, but oh how my mouth waters when I see Chels making one. Chels even knows to make two of whatever she's making to avoid the inevitable sharing she will be obligated to do if she only makes one. Smart girl.

I tell you all of this because B is sitting two feet from me having fixed the most splendid smelling bowl of popcorn that has ever touched my nostrils. And all I can think about is eating it. If I ask for a handful, I will surely ask for seconds. I'm like the mouse in If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. If I get seconds, I will take too much and then end up eating three-fourths of B's snack without ever really meaning to do so. Sigh.

Let it be known that the pediatrician gave me a good scolding today for getting up in the middle of the night with Baby B. Her question was innocent enough...

Doc: How's he sleeping?
Me: Well, he's started this thing where he wants to get up and play. At 2:30am.
Doc: What do you do?
Me: I get up with him. (Duh!)
Doc: QUIT DOING THAT! You're never going to get sleep. He's six months old now. He's not crying because he's hungry or lonely. He's crying because he knows you will come running. I'm going to tell you something, you're going to be saying 'no' to this kid a lot for the next 21 years - get used to it. So start saying no now - no I will not get you out of bed at 2:30am. If it's dark outside, he should be sleeping.......

And then she began to sound a lot like the teacher from Charlie Brown and I did a bunch of head nodding, and I think I finally agreed to let him cry it out. Could you imagine the beating I would have received if I told her he still slept in his pack-n-play NEXT TO MY BED. Thank goodness her doc-dar didn't let her know that he's been sleeping in my bed at some point during the night every night since he's been born too. Oh, and I do love this doctor and her straight-forwardness.

So, as of tonight, Baby B is officially sleeping in his crib. And we did let him cry it out. For everyone's sake, it only lasted about 20 minutes. And I did go up to put his paci in once and tell him that I love him to infinity and beyond and back infinity times. I'm not even allowed to get up in the middle of the night to nurse him. This is going to be hard.

Lest I forget to tell you that Baby B is in the 92nd percentile for height (27 in.) and weight (20.8 lbs). That's my boy.

In other news, he tried bananas today which resulted in a bitter beer face. See below.

Happy Half Year to You!

My little peanut butter was half a year old as of yesterday at 5:20pm. The day began with Baby B trying cereal for the very first time. A lovely mess of single-grain rice was left on his chubby cheekers making them even more smoochable than usual. I am just addicted to those cheeks. It's a wonder he has any left after six months of smooches. I will be sad the day they disappear :(
Baby B wasn't satisfied with cereal alone, though. Later on in the day, as I attempted to eat tortilla chips while I was feeding him (a real crumby idea, if you know what I mean), Baby B let it be known that he, too, should be allowed to munch on my snack. He was literally bending backwards over the Boppy trying to reach them.

After convincing him that actual teeth were required to eat chips, he opted for a healthier, more organic choice. Why eat tortilla chips when sweet little baby feet are equally as delicious and readily available at the stretch of leg? (Seriously, I think babies invented yoga.)

Post holiday post

It's fairly easy to shake off a holidaze when it's 70 degrees outside - though it doesn't make me want to wear my new knit Uggs any less. B contemplated breaking out his new Rainbows, but it just doesn't seem right to be sporting sandals when it should be snowing. While the weather is out of control for what should be a cold, wintry December day, everything is getting back to normal at the Babbling household.
Christmas was a delicious assortment of pumpkin roll, cinnamon oatmeal cookies, Honeybaked Ham, and poppy seed bread, combined with a oodles of crumpled wrapping paper and time spent with family. Naturally, Baby B enjoyed crumpling wrapping paper far more than the diverse array of sprinkled confections that I enjoyed.
I don't know if I ever disclosed my theory to you, Internet, but besides the fact that six months of exclusive breastfeeding is recommended by the APA, I also continued to nurse right on through Baby B's six month because it meant that I could selfishly indulge in the many holiday treats that present themselves during the month of December. I mean, he is the best diet that ever happened to me. How else can you enjoy homemade, chocolate-drizzled marshmallows and not gain an ounce? I'll tell you how: dedicate yourself to the nourishment of another human being. I'm sorry if you get sick of my relentless blogging about breastfeeding, but I just couldn't be happier with its results.

Anyway, our house is, like, totally out of control right now. There is just all this stuff. Everywhere. It was super clean when the neighbors came over on Christmas night, and now it's just chaos again. Sigh. Fortunately, life can go on when your house is a wreck, even if you can't walk through your living room without pole vaulting over the latest over-sized baby occupier. Seriously, this thing is three feet tall and equally as wide. I have no idea where we will store this behemoth, but it is pretty hilarious to watch Baby B bounce around in it and he loves it with all his precious little heart.

And he does have a precious little heart.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!Love, The Babbling Family

Happy Christmas Eve!

Is it possible to subsist on Diet Coke alone?

That is the question I ponder this morning as I look at our empty fridge. This week has just not been conducive to a trip to grocery store. I've been too busy last minute shopping and getting stuck in two hours of traffic with a baby in the backseat to place importance on such things as food.

I've had the best intentions, really, I have. However, I had a birthday dinner both Sunday and Monday night and then left-overs last night. Then, Christmas Dinner with the K's today and Christmas Dinner with the M's tomorrow. Why buy when you can mooch?

So, Diet Coke it is, along with an almost empty bag of Fritos. Oh, and a couple of Christmas cookies from the First Annual K Girl Christmas Cookie Decorating Get-Together. Now, that is healthy.

I guess I will talk about the First Annual K Girl Christmas Cookie Decorating Get-Together (which will be known as FAKGCCDGT from this point forward). I had Chels, Soph, and Aubz over on Monday, and we slice-n-baked our way to a sugar high. After creating two-dozen or so cookies, the question remained: what will we do with these? Too embarrassed to take them to my mom's (the cookie/cake baker connoisseur for those of you who don't know her), we chose to let them sit on my counter for the past 48 hours so that I B and I can consume an inordinate amount of Christmas calories before the 25th. And so that we will have something to eat while the cupboard is bare. I look forward to future AKGCCDGT's in the future. A good time was had by all.

Today we are off to the K's to celebrate at 4pm - complete with dinner, Christmas eve service, and gift exchanging. My dad will read the story from the Bible to the grandkids, along with 'Twas the Night Before Christmas (just as he's done for the past 20 or so years), and my sisters and I will mouth the words as he reads. He usually becomes annoyed and threatens to quit reading and send us all to bed (this is a solid K tradition). Too bad we're all 20+ now and he can't get away with this. We'll have to pass our mimickry along to Soph, Baby B, and Sutton so that they can drive him crazy in a few years.

Tonight, we will head over to the the M's where will we stay the night so that we can wake up on Christmas morning to sausage balls (an M family tradition) and breakfast casserole. Mmmm.

I'll be on a blog hiatus for the next 48 hours as we celebrate with family, but I have a premade-post ready to pop up tomorrow - so check back to see Baby B in his Christmas finest!

Merry, merry!

Happy Birthday....

...to me!

Photographic proof that we spent Saturday in our pjs and our dog is the size of a small pony

Ah, there is nothing like sleeping in until 7am to really start your day off on the right track. Or at least mine. Baby B woke up on the complete wrong side of the bed, and was down for his first a.m. nap by 8:15am. I probably would have continued to snuggle on Baby B in bed until 8am, but B needed me to lock the door after he left at 7am.

Why, you ask?

Because Muscles broke his key off in the lock about a month ago. I haven't had the time to replace it, so we're stuck with ONE housekey. Not even kidding. Our neighbors are the only other people who have a spare.

Anyway, I feel like a whole new person after a weekend of doing absolutely nothing. I didn't so much as waste a thought on lesson planning. And I probably won't for about another week.

Oh, how I love thee Christmas break.

So after our Saturday spent Wii-ing (B bowled an "8-pack" - 8 strikes in a row), we went to church on Sunday and my parents' for my birthday dinner last night. Don't worry, you haven't forgot my birthday yet. It's tomorrow.

As if two pairs of the most super-wonderful-cozy-warm-and-stylish-boots weren't enough, B thought I could use a knit pair as an early b-day gift.

And he was totally right. I could totally use a knit pair. (Definitely not a Doghouse Gift.) Thus, my love affair with overpriced boots continues. I think turning 26 totally warrants expensive boots, don't you?

In other news, our house robbed us blind last month by being extremely energy efficient. Really, $260, house? Can you please not let our precious heat escape through your tough plaster walls? As soon as I read the e-Bill, off went every light in the house and I turned the heat down to a chilly 69 degrees from our usual 72. Baby B's gums are chattering.

And here I sit blogging, freezing my hiney off, clad in multi-layers, my Denali jacket, a scarf and one of those face masks that bank robbers wear. I'm going to have to invest in some fingerless gloves so that typing becomes a bit easier.

Only kidding. And Baby B's gums can't chatter anymore anway because...drumroll please...he's GETTING A TOOTH! And I'm crying - a) because my sweet precious is growing like a weed (six months on Saturday!), b) because I will miss his gummy smile, and c) because I can only imagine what a mouthful of teeth are going to mean for breastfeeding.

Ouch.

Disgruntled reindeer

My husband has a way of finding real quality TV programming to keep us entertained on the weekend. Last week it was La Bamba - the story of Ritche Valens. Today it is Ghoulies II. We're talking classic TV here, people. This is what you're subjected to when you only get 12 channels, 3 of which are public access, and is why I've watched an entire season of The Hills on my computer during a snow day before.

Anyway, I can finally let out one enormous sigh of relief, as school is out for the next 16 days. Our Christmas party went off without a hitch - 45 minutes of sugared goodies, ornament decorating, and book exchanging. I have a great group of parents that helped out, and the kiddos seemed to genuinely enjoy themselves. I was showered with everything from the usual candles and giftcards (yay!) to the not-so-ordinary stone tranquility fountain and random shell magnet plucked off of the home refrigerator. Hopefully mom and dad don't miss it too much.

Having been super busy for the last month of weekends, we are enjoying a very lazy day at home. Though showered, we're all still in our PJs watching the aforementioned Ghoulies, which I'm sure went on to win several awards in 1987. It's totally a spin-off of Gremlins, and the special effects are pretty stellar.

We have a busy week ahead, what with my birthday and Jesus' birthday all within a span of 48 hours. Baby B has a pretty lax list this year that includes anything that's colored and makes a crunching sound. Mainly used wrapping paper. I think he might just get his wish.

PS. Did you get our Christmas card?????

Doesn't that just figure

Dear Derek,

I have a little bone to pick with you. You said it would snow - 2-4 inches by morning. You said it would be like this - a tune so catchy that I sing it to Baby B daily. So, I stayed up late anticipating a "messy morning commute," as you put it. You spoke of your station as the #1 station for school closings. I expected for you to list my school. I looked out the window on the hour every hour over night wondering where the heck the snow was.

Well guess what? IT DIDN'T SNOW.

Until 10am. When I was already at school with 24 over-stimulated, holiday-crazed 5-year-olds. I had a conference this morning...guidance...an observation...computer lab...a KTIP meeting. Do you know what a Snow Day would have meant to me today? I stayed up late, Derek, too late for someone that teaches kindergarteners at 8:15am.

And then they decided to do an early dismissal for our county, 2 hours early. Well, wouldn't that just be peachy if it meant that I'd get out two hours early? Oh no, Derek, I stayed TWO HOURS LATER.

They held the morning kindergarteners to dismiss with the rest of the school at 1:45pm. Fantastic.

Do you know what happens to a woman who is two hours late to nurse her starving child, Derek, besides her chest ballooning to the size of two healthy canteloupes? SHE LOSES ALL RESPECT FOR HER ONCE EVER-SO-CHARMING WEATHERMAN. That's what happens, Derek.

Derek + Abby = Heartbreak.

- Abby

PS. Your only redeeming qualitity is your ability to predict ice tomorrow morning. If I get off tomorrow, I might reconsider.

The Snow Dance Worked

I could just hug Derek Beasley right now. He's my local meteorologist crush, if you didn't already know that from previous posts. Am I into his handsome good looks? NO. Do I like the way he stands in front of a blue screen pointing to the various weather all over the country? NO. I am into his ability to predict a SNOW DAY. Derek said we can expect 2-4 inches over the next 24-hours and then MORE snow for Wednesday. A snow STORM even. Sigh. I think I'm in love.

Don't think I'm the only one. All teachers nationwide have endearing feelings towards their local weatherperson. Anyone who mumbles those magic words is deserving of our educational love. Besides the fact that we are actually expecting some accumulation, I just so happen to live in a county that calls school off for a heavy frost - so the odds of a snow day are actually pretty good. KEEP YOUR FINGERS CROSSED. And it probably helps that I made my kindergartners perform a Snow Dance today that involved lots of uncoordinated motions and pretend snowball fights, but it looks like it might have worked. Don't underestimate the power of 5-year-olds.

Anyway, a light sprinkling of the white stuff is accumulating on top of my car and the roofs throughout the neighborhood. I am so one of those people who will rush out to the store to stock up on snow day necessities like Diet Coke. I totally have my priorities straight, you know that. My current stock is, well, nonexistent, so this is certainly a problem. I will venture to the store as soon as Baby B wakes up from his nap. I guarantee you that 75% of our city will be at Kroger pulling sleds, rock salt, and milk off the shelves. We don't take the threat of snow lightly. No siree.

Before Baby B insisted that I put him down for his second nap of the afternoon (read: FUSSYPANTS), I did snap some pics of him for our Christmas card. I won't show you the finished product, but here is proof from our photoshoot:

We're back. The trip was fun, but too fast. It always is.

Baby B did well on the car ride, crying only when hungry. I had to nurse publically TWICE during our trip. Once at Cracker Barrell (as always, what's a trip without Cracker Barrell?) and once in the parking lot of McDonalds. I was going to nurse inside, but B thought there were too many creepy looking men, so I opted for the backseat of the Jetta. Let me tell you right now, I do not recommend nursing in the backseat of a Jetta. Backseat of Jetta + installed carseat = no room. Baby B was practically eating standing up. He kept looking up at me as if to say, "Why are we doing this?"

Big B did well on the car ride also, driving all the way through. He's snoozling on the couch right now, and he probably won't wake up until bedtime. I should be writing lesson plans, but Baby B is sleeping too and I'm all in to procrastination right now.

It's hard to get anything done when you return from a trip. Especially a weekend trip where you fail to accomplish your normal weekend-ish activities since you're not at home. It's like I want to restart the weekend so I can be lazy around the house for another 24 hours before I have to get anything done. But, alas, tomorrow is Monday. That does mean I am one day closer to Christmas Break though - the break of all breaks for us teachers (besides summer break of course).

Oh, yeah B picked ud1010, you win the coupons! Leave a comment with your email address and I'll email you so I can get your address. If I haven't heard from you in 24 hours, we'll choose another! Thanks!

What happened to the good ol' fashioned nap?

So when I get home from school and pick up Baby B from either of the Nana's house, our afternoon routine usually goes as follows:

Eat. Play. Sleep.

Baby B has suddenly decided that's just not going to work for him. So now our routine is more like this:

Eat. Play. Rock.

While rocking, Baby B decides it would be a great time to talk. So we talk. We discuss daily politics, if the economy will recover anytime soon, and whether or not Britney's comeback will be lasting. Ten minutes later he is still talking and my arm is getting tired, and I'm essentially rocking myself to sleep. So I decide to lay him down in bed next to me.

He's now taking his paci in and out of his mouth and examining it like it's a precious jewel excavated from a Canadian diamond mine. He switches hands, pops it back into his mouth and then takes it out again. He repeats this for 3 or 4 minutes until he realizes that his face is within inches of my own. He takes this opportunity to attempt to grab my eyeballs out of their sockets. I writhe in pain and he shot-puts his paci across the room. You've got to be kidding me.

I roll out of bed, locate paci amidst a heap of laundry, pop it into my mouth for sterilization purpose (I know - this is VERY SANITARY), and then back in Baby B's mouth. He is so excited to see me return to the bed, he is now running the Flying Pig Marathon laying down. His legs are bicycling all over the place, and he is flapping his arms wildly. He may spontaneously levitate off of the bed.

By the way, I totally didn't put the paci in my mouth. I am way over the cleanliness of the paci at this point. At least when it falls on the floor of my own home. Walmart, now that's different story. Then, I'd put it in my mouth first. KIDDING!

Now he's blowing raspberries with his paci in his mouth. This is very cute and I suddenly feel the urge to kiss him a million times on his fat cheeks. I remember that this is naptime, silently scold myself, and pretend to sleep next to him again. He is not fooled and blows raspberries even louder, spitting all over my face. He's then singing and blowing raspberries intermittently. Goodness only knows where the paci is at this point.

Now he's pulled his softie completely over his face. He reaches his hand up over his head, somehow manages to locate the missing paci, and attempts to put paci in his mouth through the blanket. Starting to whimper, I pull softie from face, reinsert paci and he grabs onto my finger. He's now examining my fingers wondering where my fingernails are (I'm a bit of a nail-biter, if you will).

More raspberries. More paci examination. He attempts to locate the softie again, when...

Oh! There's mommy's face again!

More eyeball gouging.

Back to singing, softie over face, and he's out.

Mommy and Baby B both sleep for three hours from the sheer exhaustion of trying to settle down for a nap in the first place. Phew.

Enfamil Coupons Giveaway!

Okay, we all know I'm a nurser, but Enfamil totally does not. I must be on some registry to receive, like, a million coupons from them for $ off of their formula. However, being a non-formula user, I've accumulated a nice stash of coupons that are not being used and I'd love to mail them to a mommy who really needs them.

Here's what I have:

• 1 BOGO Free Enfamil Lipil at Kroger (up to $13.85) - exp. date 12/27/08
• 1 $20 MIR (mail in rebate) when you purchase 2 cans of Enfamil Lipil 25.7 oz - exp. date 12/31/08
• 2 $1.00 off coupons - exp. 12/31/08
• 3 $2.00 off coupons - exp. 12/15/08 (+ 2 attached MIRs for $10)
• 1 $3.00 off coupon - exp. 12/31/08

I also have several expired coupons totalling $15 that I would be happy to send to. However, I don't know if they accept them since I've never purchased formula before.

To win this giveaway, simply leave a comment on my blog. That's it! Super easy! I'll have my husband randomly choose a comment number and then I'll post the winner on my blog on Friday, December 12th.

K Family Christmas Pic

Since my mom sent out their cards, here's what the K family Christmas pic looks like:Our little family, on the other hand, still hasn't taken ours. It may be 2009 before we get around to it.

You know you have a blog when....

- you take your camera with you. Everywhere.

- you preface a conversation with, "Did you see on the blog..."

- you check your comments religiously and are bummed with no one comments.

- you find yourself saying, "I can't wait to blog about this!" to your spouse.

- you feel like less of a blogger for not posting every day.

- you find yourself wondering how someone knew something about you that you're for sure you didn't tell them. And then you realize - they read it on the blog.

- you wish all your friends had blogs so you could stalk them too.

-

What we did this Wii-kend

Disclosure: unless you're intrested in every minute detail of our weekend, you might want to find another way to spend 1:08 minutes of your life...

Whew. It was a busy weekend at the M household. On Saturday morning, Baby B and I woke up to sNoW! B pulled an all-nighter studying for an exam, so he was awake making coffee when we rolled out of bed.

Though I didn't get the snow day I've been praying for, the fluffy white stuff did set an excellent ambience for decorating this weekend. It always feels so cozy inside when you look out the window and see snow blowing around outside.

After B returned from his exam, Baby B and I took off for my parents' where we helped decorate the tree. All was lovely and the tradition was complete with a kind word or two exchanged over the handmade ornament creation.

Naturally, Baby B was dressed like the darling little Christmas elf that he is. Precious, precious boy.

Upon returning from the K's, Baby B went down for a nap and B and I tested our marriage while assembling the artificial Christmas tree. I am not kidding. We both had to take a moment (or six) when we couldn't figure out how to put the doggone base together. Forty-five minutes later (also not kidding), the base was together and B morphed into Obi Wan Christmas-obee.

Baby B woke just in time to help us decorate. He had a great time bouncing around in the man pouch and handling every ornament he could get his fat little hands on.

We ended our Saturday, munching on Moe's burritos, picking out Christmas gifts for our nieces, and playing endless games of tennis and bowling on the Wii we borrowed from B's little brother. I CANNOT MOVE MY RIGHT ARM. The Wii is this crazy, addictive game that works arm muscles you never knew existed. I can barely lift Baby B's carseat today. And you seriously do get a workout.

This is my sweet potato before the shopping excursion.

This is him after the shopping excursion. A baked sweet potato.

Anyway, it was a lovely little weekend.

Next weekend: Mee-chigan!

I dare you to mess with my son

I just have to take a moment to tell you that I am bawling like a baby watching Front of the Class - a Hallmark movie made after this book about a man with Tourette's syndrome.

I am crying A) because how dare anyone (especially an excellent teacher) be discriminated against for suffering from this disorder and B) because I imagine my son being made fun of and it just crushes me to imagine ANYONE making fun of him for ANYTHING.

Okay. That's it. Commercial is over. Back to my box of tissues.

...100...

First, let's take a moment to celebrate small victories - this is my 100th post. Impressive, huh, what with a job and a new baby and all?

In other news...

Christmas is twenty days away. No tree in sight and not a present bought. But, the stockings are hung from the TV stand with care.

My parents will pick out their tree tonight, erect it in the family room and wait for us K girls to come over to decorate it. Which is always a super special tradition, involving lots of debating over who made what ornament in elementary school circa 1992. (It was me, I'm sure of it.) This also always involves a heated discussion between my parents as to how the tree should be put up even though they've been putting up the tree in the same spot, the same way for, oh, 14 years? The year the tree fell over after my dad put it up was particulary funny. Especially since my mom wanted to fishing pole string it to the wall. Hilarious.

Somehow I managed to clean the house today, and I'm working on a mammouth pile of laundry that we've accumulated in like four days. I actually blame it on the boy child who destroys at least an outfit a day with his projectile pooping. I'm seriously going to have to invest in a whole new wardrobe by the time he's through this phase.

The Grinch is on right now, but B's studying so we've got the TV off and Baby B's in bed. I'm bored. I'm half tempted to go get the tree and start putting that beast together, but it's so much more fun to grumble and groan about how difficult it is with my dear husband rather than by myself.

What I should be doing is getting my lesson plans together for the following two weeks. But it's Friday. Who writes lesson plans on a Friday?

I am indulging in a glass of Reisling as we speak.

Maybe I'll enjoy my wine and lesson plan simultaneously.

Now there's a Friday night for you.

Randomosities...

Our Christmas tree is not up yet.

Baby B has mastered pooping out of his diaper every day around 1pm, staining 99.9% of his clothes. This has resulted in Poop Warfare, wherein I strip him of his outfit and hold him upright while he makes the Poop Face and graces me with diaper pleasantries.

B ripped up more carpet. The TV is still sitting on an island of carpet, as are the couches, end tables, and coffee table.

I am ready for a Snow Day. Soooooo ready.

We bought a new laptop last week. It's all silvery and new looking with a shiny screen and slippery buttons. I like it, but all my fonts are on the old laptop, and you know how I feel about handwriting. Thus, I use the old one for all my school work.

My sister, Aubz, just got an internship at DISNEY! Yes, like the place where Mickey Mouse and Cinderella live. I now have an excuse to actually go there. Us K kids led entirely unprivileged childhoods and our parents never took us to this kiddie paradise. Instead, we were subjected one week of the year to trek 10 hours northward to the Great Lakes. Michigan, really? Of all places!*

I received $11 worth of coupons in the mail today from Gerber and I couldn't be more ecstatic. Especially since Baby B starts eating real food in less than a month.

My Aunt Lynn was married to the lovely and charming Rick on November 8th. Congratulations!

Pictured above is My Aunt Lynn, Uncle Rick, and cousins Matt, Stefi, Jordan, and Betsi.

I made some delicious lemon-pepper chicken for dinner last night. And sugar cookies.

Ever since I started nursing, I have had the appetite of an 18-year-old boy. I mean, I am RAVENOUS. I cannot get enough food.

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas.

Just kidding, but that is totally one of my favorite holiday songs.

I need to do laundry.

I have yet to have our Christmas card pictures made. I need to get on this since it is t-minus 21 days until the big event.

I am RANDOM today.

Happy Thursday!

* Michigan is one of my favorite places in the whole world and I just LIIIIIVE for our vacations up there. I would take Cherry Republic, Boonedocks, and The Homestead over Disney any day!

Stop and smell the roses...or a freshly bathed baby.

What I really want to write about is how discouraged I was after school today, but you're going to have to settle for my decorating woes since I'm fearful that blogging negatively about work could result in dire consequences. Then again, Dooce blogged about work, lost her job because of it, and is now one of the most successful mommy bloggers in cyberspace - to the point that her blog is now her livelihood and her husband quit his job to manage her blog. I want that kind of luck, except I'm not quite into the whole losing the job bit.

Anyway, I'm sitting admist boxes of Christmas decor, six boxes to be specific, contemplating where each decoration should be placed. We've only been married 2.5 years, which is just long enough to acccumulate a couple boxes worth of ornaments, some stockings, a wreath, and a partridge in a pear tree. It doesn't look like Baby B will be crawling in the next 23 days so I don't have to factor his ability chew extension cords or pull over the tree into the equation just yet. Hopefully, he'll just be content to sit in his bouncy seat and stare longingly at the twinkling lights.

B's in the process of ripping up more carpet, so the first floor is looking a little pathetic at the moment -half carpeted and half not. We're not sure why the previous owners even put carpet down in the first place since the hardwood is in pretty good condition. We figure the dead body outline is probably beneath the carpet in the corner that he has yet to pull up. Nevertheless, it's difficult to decorate, much less put up the tree, when a shop-vac sits in the tree corner, carpet snippings are scattered about the floor, and our house resembles the set of While You Were Out only we're not out and Vern Yip is now where to be found. And I'm slightly preoccupied with being a mom, wife, and teacher too.

Usually I'm just exuding Christmas spirit - sprinkling Christmas dust and good cheer all over the house, singing Silent Night opera-style in the shower, and scanning the tube for the Grinch and Charlie Brown. But not this year. I'm just not there yet. I can't even believe Thanksgiving is over. When did life suddenly go into overdrive and leave me in its wake? I'm still trying to fathom the fact that I HAVE A KID. (A really cute kid, by the way.)

I have a feeling that 18 years from now, I'll be asking myself the same question as I anticipate Baby B (who will then be Manly B) returning from college for Christmas break. Gosh. Just writing that makes my eyes well up.

Sigh.

Maybe our trip to Michigan to visit family will bring back that lovin' feeling. Or maybe I just need to stop, smell the roses (or the baby, if you will), and slow the heck down.