Christmas with B's side of the family.
Have you put any thought into your New Year's Resolutions for the New Year that is a little over 24 hours away? Yeah, me neither. I can hardly believe we're approaching a new decade...or that I can't remember where exactly I spent NYE2000. Do you remember? I think we were all waiting for the world to end. Or our computers to crash, at least.

Gosh, that's totally going to perplex me until I remember. I was a junior in high school, I can tell you that. And I'm sure I was with B somewhere, since we were high school sweathearts and all. I probably wasn't at a party, since my mom and dad were pretty stringent about curfew and making sure they called the parents of the party-thrower to ensure supervision and such. Our church always hosted an all-nighter for the youth group, but I don't really remember going. But maybe I did? Hmmmmm......

Sorry, enough internal dialogue.

We have no NYE plans here that don't involve staying home and hanging out with family. We might order Chinese take-out and pop open a bottle of champagne, if we really want to get crazy. Seeing as I've never popped open a bottle of champagne in my entire life though, I really doubt it. But it sounds like fun. We'll likely watch Seventeen Again, since it arrived from Netflix yesterday, and that will round out our night where we'll struggle to stay open to watch the ball drop. Is it ironic that I actually was 17 as the year 2000 began? {FYI: Zac Efron was 12. Ha!}


I've always thought that NYE was such a let-down. Sure, it warrants an extra day off work and a reason to buy a sequined dress (though I actually bought a sequined dress the other day for everyday-wear), but my past NYEs have always been very lackluster. Thus, this will be the third year that we've stayed home with no extravagant plans. And I'm entirely okay with that.

However, let it be known, that B and I do have New Year's Day plans that involve a travel, a babysitter, and an occasion to wear a sequined dress ;)

Happy 2010, BFFs!

Checkin' in...

Hey y'all. I am exhausted. The holidays have completely wiped me out. Becks has a terrible cold and has been in bed with us for the past three nights, entertaining us with his midnight acrobatics. I barely slept last night. Thus, I have about this much energy for which to blog about Christmas. So, you'll have to settle for the few images that I managed to capture. There are many more pics on the grandparents' cameras, and I will post a more detailed holiday wrap-up sometime this week where I'll tell you about how excited we are to be Netflix members again and how no Christmas morning is complete without scooter races. Enticing, isn't it?

Who needs "the poof" when you wake up with hair looking like this? Completely natural, snazzy hairspray not needed. Becks is eating at one of his Christmas presents. I go weak in the knees at the amount of coloring and crafts and lego monuments that this table will witness over the next several years.

This was the little peanut butter on Christmas Eve doing a jig to some Hallmark toy that plays Charlie Brown's Christmas. Looooove it.

Hope your holiday was merry and bright!

Three years away from the big 3-0

Today I celebrate birthday #27. B and I went to dinner last night at Bonefish. I had sangria in my birthday wine glass {given to me by my dad} and it was yum.
Additionally, I attempted the poof as detailed in the post found here. It is life changing and you should watch the 12 minute video so that you, too, can poof your hair with such pizazz. Fortunately, it doesn't require a claw clip as rocked out by Snooki in Jersey Shores. These girls teach you to do it with class, and I promise you won't look like a guidette when you're through. It should be noted that I only had Aqua Net on hand, which seemed to work just as well for $1.92. I will, however, be in search of the spray spoken of in the post. My poof seems to look better from the side than it does head-on, as seen in pictures of me and B out to dinner. Will go for more height next time. Lastly, I have a cute boy child. He is watching Sesame Street for the 407th time and eating a pretzel rod with G on the floor. He is also cute, if I haven't mentioned that before.

Happy Birthday to me!

Q & A Part I

Molly asks, "How do you try to find a balance between work and the baby? I'm always looking for new ways to try things!"

Hmmmm. This is a tricky question, Molly, because I really don't think I'm an expert at it by any stretch of the imagination. Working part-time certainly helps, since I spend the majority of the day at home with Becks, and we're very blessed that he spends his time away from us with his Nanas so I rarely feel guilty about leaving him. My one recommendation is to get on and stay on a regular nap schedule. At 18 months, Becks still takes a morning and afternoon nap. Thus, I usually get at least an hour every afternoon to work on lesson plans, do laundry (right!), or clip coupons. That being said, he sometimes opts out of his afternoon nap and I just declare playtime and give up. Flexibility is key, right?

Jennifer H. says, "I was just wondering if you had any tips/tricks for extended breastfeeding?"

Again, not a professional, but from my personal experience I really think you have to go with what works for you and baby. I was very determined to nurse for the duration of the first year, and anything after that was bonus. The ability to breastfeed and for how long depends on so many varying factors (i.e. milk supply, latch, commitment, support, etc.). While it was an incredible mommy-baby bonding experience and I truly feel that he had increased immunities to the kindergerms I brought him, I also nursed for selfish reasons - it helped me take of the baby weight and it was cheap!

I will say that once we introduced table foods at 6 months (we opted to wait even though given the go-ahead sooner), frequency and duration of nursing session decreased substantially. By his first birthday, he was nursing 3x a day - and sometimes for only 2-3 minutes! I figured that every little bit helped. He weaned on his own, around 14 months. He'd nurse for literally 10 seconds so I knew our time together was finished.

I guess the bottom line is this: do what works for you. If you nurse for 3 days or 3 months, it's all beneficial to the baby. If you opt for formula or find that nursing just isn't for you - big deal! What is important is a healthy baby - by bottle or by breast!

Shannons asks, "How did you and your husband meet? You may have already covered this somewhere, but I'm fairly new :)"

We are highschool sweethearts. {Swoon} We met when I was 15 in Mr. Asuncsion's Arts and Humanities Class. He was a junior, I was a sophomore. He played soccer, I was a cheerleader. We started "talking" sometime in early December, and he "asked me out" on my 16th birthday. Eleven years ago from today, as a matter of fact! Our first date was the annual cheerleading Christmas scavenger hunt. He showed up to meet my parents with blonde-tipped hair and cargo shorts - it was snowing! We kept him anyway ;)

Mel wants to know, "I'm always amazed at your coupon clipping! I'd like to know how you organize your coupons. Do you use a notebook? accordian folder? How do you keep track of which ones are going to expire? I'm just looking to get more organized with my coupon habbits. Thanks!"

Mel, I could talk about this system for pages. I'll get back to you! But it does involve a hefty binder.

Kate (a fellow teacher BFF) at Sugar and Spice asks, "What occupation would you choose if you could not be a super-duper Kindergarten teacher or a SAHM?"

Probably some type of sales, marketing, or advertising position that involved a company car, a black AMEX, and lots of money!!!!! Ha!

In all serious, I do want to be a school principal some day :) I like to be in charge!

Katie asks, "I would like to know why you have been so stingy with your make up/ markers in the past:)?"

This is a question for the ages. I don't know. But I appreciate your smart-alleckness and love you nonetheless :)

{For those of you who don't know, Katie is one of my IRL BFFs and lived with me my sophomore year of college in the ADPi house. Her and my other BFF, Allison, stole my markers and make-up on occasion and I was not happy. While I still obsess over both, I'm a much better sharer and credit the two of them with the free therapy it took to recover.

One of my most favorite bloggy friends, Nat, asks, "When do you think Becks will have a little brother or sister? and What's your favorite thing about being a teacher?"

I think my mind will be able to wrap itself around another pregnancy when Becks is three or four. And not a moment sooner. I really want to enjoy him and for him to have us all to himself for awhile. {Plus, I want to completely forget how miserable pregnancy was for me. Loved the end result, hated the process of getting there.} I could change my mind, but probably not. B and I are both content to wait for awhile. More importantly, Nat, when are you and K going to have a baby?????? Ha ha :)

My most favorite thing about being a teacher is the inspiration I draw from my students. Sure, summer break and snow days are nice, but the best part of my day is watching a student "get" something - actually seeing the little lightbulbs going off in their heads.

Stay tuned for Part II.....

Uh Oh. Not Good.

Let me just tell you this is not a before picture.

Also, a baby was found beneath this tree in the aftermath. And it was not Baby Jesus.

An Awful Long Account of My Trip to the Grocery Store. {I didn't miss a detail.}

Fantasy: One blissful hour, child-free, at the grocery story when husband does not call you to tell you to come home ASAP because the baby is crying.

Reality: My morning thus far...

Becks and I decided to hit up Kroger first thing this morning (7:45am) to miss all the holiday crazies out later in the day. And because we were in dire need of milk. Still clad in his jammies, I zipped him into his hoodie and hat and we were out the door. I even got a prime parking spot (close to the entrance, next to the cart return) - score!

He doesn't so much enjoy being strapped into the cart anymore, and I usually let him sit in the big part now which is like the coolest thing ever to do when you are 18-months-old. However, I had mass shopping to do today, so there was no way I could fit a toddler and all of my groceries into the main part. So, strapped in he was. And very unhappy about it.

What started out as a leisurely stroll through the produce department soon turned into a sprint up and down the aisles as he tried unsuccessfully to extract himself from the seat. I had about 25 minutes before we hit meltdown mode, and since we were there so early there weren't any cookies out at the bakery for desperate mommies our dining pleasure. Rats.

Becks loves to put lids on containers these days (so much for real toys!), so I unscrewed the lid to some dry roasted peanuts and he was good for about two aisles. We made it to the baby aisle, and while I picked through wipe coupons, he spotted the sippy cups. Ju? Ju? Ju? Ju? While I tried to explain that there was not actually any juice in those cups, I spotted a talking Elmo phone and gave it to him to play with.

{Sidenote: I am now officially one of those parents that heads immediately to the toy department upon arrival at the store, selects the toy with the most buttons that makes the most noise, and gives it to my child to enjoy until checkout. Ahem.}

The Elmo phone fun lasted through the dairy department and then I chucked it on an endcap, and prayed for forgiveness since I didn't return it to its rightful spot.

The juice conversation began again. I grabbed one of those individual chocolate milks and promised it to him in the car, while trying to cover the word SUCKER that spelled itself out across my forehead.

Once at checkout, I have to leave the cart at the very end to ensure that Becks doesn't pull the gum, candy, and giftcards from the checkout aisle. So I run back and forth from the cart to the conveyor belt, while twenty some odd people are beginning to line up behind me since there is only one cash register open this early in the morning. It's all a little unnerving. At this point, Becks is emptying the contents of my purse and I DON'T REALLY CARE. I just want to get out of the store.

We make it to the car, everything is unloaded and everyone is buckled. And Becks remembers the promised milk. Seriously?! How did he remember that?!

So I search through twelve different bags before said milk is spotted, poke the straw in, and he blissfully drinks away for the duration of the quick ride home.

While I unload, I feed him a breakfast of waffles and yogurt. His latest thing is to dip everything into something, so he dunks the waffles into the blueberry yogurt and the ten minutes of silence while he eats is golden. Of course, I'm only a fourth of the way unloaded by the time he finishes and demands to get out.

His tray is a slick, slimy mess of yogurt and waffle bits. I set the tray amidst the groceries on the counter which then COMPLETELY DUMPS on the floor sending globs of yogurt everywhere.

I may or may not have thrown my hands up, looked skyward, and asked WHY ME?! at this point.

I clean up what I can, while trying to shoo Becks away from the open fridge. He is opening the drawers and walks away holding an orange in either hand.

After a quick bath to rid him of excess blueberry yogurt, he is now soundly sleeping upstairs and I am drinking coffee and wondering why there are two oranges sitting in the middle of the living room floor.

Happy Monday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ETA @ 6:08pm: I just spilled an entire glass of Barefoot Pinot Grigio into the sink and it landed in a bowl of grease sending white wine and hamburger fat everywhere.

I am going to bed early tonight. Tomorrow is another day, thank Heavens!

Festival of Lights Pictures

Mmmm. Gingerbread man.

Becks and B.

Family pic while Becks tries to escape the stroller.
Light-up spinning toy that Becks chose as his souvenir.
Tired little man with G and spinny toy.

Dippity Do Da Don't

This week at school, every grade level was responsible for bringing in a dish to share on a specified day to celebrate the holidays. Being that my day was Thursday, you can imagine that we'd already seen every kind of dip known to man. If you could put it on a chip or cracker, it'd so been done. Times twelve. My lunch for the past three days has consisted of an assortment of salami dip, queso, and layered taco salad. Don't judge. It's the holidays and calories only count for half the month of December. It's like a sale on calories.

Nevertheless, I couldn't possibly think of a dip that hadn't already been done. Nor did I want to.

So, I decided to channel PW (that would be the Pioneer Woman for anyone who's been hiding under a bloggy rock for the past year) and make her to die for cinnamon rolls. I think I gained 5 lbs just reading the recipe.

I had never baked anything that involved dry active yeast before, and the fact that it's active kind of creeped me out. I imagined it being like a bug or a virus or something.

So last night, I stayed up until midnight making cinnamon rolls and this morning I added the maple frosting. They turned out great and I highly recommend that you make a pan (or seven) during the holidays. Mine were a big hit at school and nearly all six pans that I made were gone by lunch time. {I realize mine don't look near as pretty as PW's, but they still tasted great!}

Becks was awake at 6:30 as I iced them, so he sat obediently in the chair not touching but pointing only and saying rooooolls.


In other news, we saw Santa last night. Or one of Santa's pitiful "helpers" who was really a poorly disguised 20-something whose authenticity went out the window with his stringy spun plastic beard and 6-foot-4 stature. B happened to see him ringing a bell outside of a local restaraunt on his way home from shopping for the previously mentioned dry active yeast (I know, he's my hero too). So, then we bundled up Becks and headed out with our camera in hand.

Becks was in absolute awe over Santa. It didn't matter to him if he was a poor college student trying to make a buck in the freezing weather on the street corner, all he cared about was the fact that this dude looked eerily similar to the Santa we have been reading and talking about for the past month.

Literally, his face upon initial meeting was priceless. He stared. Enough so that he wasn't even looking at the camera for the first pic. And in the second one I think he was just scared senseless. He spoke of Ho Ho all the way home. I love having a kid to share Christmas with. There's magic to it again :)

PS. LAST DAY OF SCHOOL TOMORROW!!!!! YAY!!!!!

Brace yourselves.

This is far from a Wordless Wednesday. Wordful would be more appropriate.

We're going to take our BFF relationship to the next level here today.

You can totally make fun of me, and I can already hear my husband, sisters, mother, and IRL friends laughing at me. I'm okay with that. I'm putting myself out there and that's that.

Ignore the ums and I really mean hear your voice when I talk about picture your voice. You know what I mean.

I don't know if Enjoy! is the appropriate way to introduce my first ever VLOG, but ENJOY!!!

Q & A for Babbling A

I've seen lots of Q & A on blogs lately. And since my brain is stretched to come up with material lately, let's do one. Or try to do one. Maybe no one will ask any questions and then I'll just feel like a big bloggy loser, but I'll prepare my pride now.

I'll answer try to answer them on my birthday, which is in - gasp - 8 days. It's kind of scary being in your late twenties. Eh.

So, ask away. Whatchu wanna know????

PS. I am having a lot of trouble with comments lately (i.e. it will say I have 1 comment on my dashboard, but really I have 4; or they won't show up until days after the comment was left). If you've submitted one and haven't seen it post, would you mind emailing me at babblingabby(at)gmail(dot)com? I have noted the problem with blogger, and it's apparently happening to other bloggers too. Thanks!!!

My head says lesson plan, my heart says blog. Toughie.

Gah. I just can't bring myself to sit down and type out the next week's worth of lesson plans. Even though there are a mere 5 days left until the highly anticipated Christmas Break, I just can't do it. Instead, I'm wanting to plan for what I will do with fourteen days off. FOURTEEN DAYS. My Ugg-ed out feet break into the Charlie Brown shuffle at the thought.


Also, the Christmas Spirit took hold of me last night, and now my brain is just a big mushy mess of tinsel, glitter, and good cheer for young and old. Becks has completely undecorated the lower half of our tree, and shattered an ornament or two, {cheap, Dollar Tree ornaments at least} but I don't care because it's Christmas and cuteness trumps naughty at Christmastime on occasion.


Apparently, blogging trumps lesson planning too. If I were as smart as Becks looks wearing his Papa's glasses, I'd get off of here right now and start planning something related to The Polar Express, which is our weekly reading selection. Instead I will just keep right on blogging. I think wearing the glasses scared him. So serious.

The weekend was low key. Besides attending our church's musical (in which my momma sang), we went to Target (for diapers only; it was boring), watched football, and ate lasagna at Nana M's house. We also helped decorate their tree. And that's it until tomorrow. G'night.

My husband can never take a normal photo.

Lesson learned.

I know that whoever coined the phrase Lord, have mercy definitely had children. Because I said this phrase under my breath for the hour and a half that we subjected Becks to the Christmas musical at church last night. Armed with a baggieful of Lucky Charms and a sippy of juice, I figured we'd make it through with ease. Our kid likes music, so this should have been cake. Nope, not at all.

He was in my lap. And then he wanted down. He was in my lap. And then he wanted down.

He was in his daddy's lap. And then he wanted down.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Repeatedly. At about a 12 second interval.

I kept glancing at the programme, thinking only four more songs until intermission...only three more songs until intermission...PLEASE GET HERE INTERMISSION. Despite the constant movement, he was surprisingly quiet until the last three songs of the entire production. Then he wanted to loudly pop his paci in and out of his mouth saying BAH! every time. {That's what he calls a paci.} Then he'd giggle. Also loudly. So I took him to the foyer and we finished the musical from the flatscreen out there where I let out an exasperated, non-whisper Lord, have mercy!

Patience was invented for parenthood.

PS. My little sister, Aubrea, turned 21 over Thanksgiving break and then I got sick and forgot to mention it. Happy Birthday, Aubbers! Love you :) This is me and her after our delish dinner at Bonefish. We are modeling her signature picture pose. Similar to the Tori-tilt, no?

Cheerio, mate!

It is downright frigid here. My toes were cold all the way to school this morning, though that is largely due to the fact that it was snowy and I opted not to wear socks with my flats. The reason that I did not wear socks is mostly because I don't think it looks cute and that I couldn't locate a pair of black socks if my life depended on it since I haven't been caught up on laundry in weeks.

The laundry issue here is out of control. I am really thinking about hitting up Target after Becks gets up from his nap so that I could just wear a brand new top to work tomorrow rather than actually do a load of laundry. That is very selfish and the logic is completely irrational, I know, but it makes complete sense to me since I wouldn't have to produce clean clothes by the morning. And a Diet Coke and popcorn from the snackbar sounds pretty good right now.

Moving on...

I finally addressed all 4000 or so of my Christmas cards, which I plan to mail en route to Tarjay. Actually, there are 61 cards which equals around $26 in postage. Oy. I ended up opting to self-address rather than print from my Excel spreadsheet when I found I was having a decent handwriting day yesterday. Which is crucial if you're going to sit and pen out 61 addresses. Some people have bad hair days - I have bad handwriting days. Is that completely bizarre? Probably so, but I couldn't bear to mail out something with my family name on it with sloppy penmenship. It's a sickness.

In other news, I'm so sad that The Hills and The City are over for the season. Though I have found that Jersey Shores and Teen Mom will tide me over with enough drama until they resume sometime in 2010. Pathetic? Yes, maybe. But I need some entertainment when Beckham is sleeping from time to time and now I have Schnooks and The Situations to keep me laughing with their self-proclaiming guido-osity (ha!) and unbelievable egos. And I'll keep rooting for Maci and Ryan to make it and for Farrah to, um, get over herself. Caitlin is my favorite, if you wanted to know. Make me feel better and admit that you, too, are tuning in...

Lastly, I cannot seem to get through Eclipse in the Twilight saga. I'm a hundred or so pages through it and basically read a page or two before I fall asleep because I just want Bella and Edward to get married. For many people, this was a favorite. Have I just not reached the good part of the plot yet? What's the deal?

T-to-the-ired.

I wish I could explain to you the exhaustion. The absolutely dire lack of sleep. The immenent need to crawl back into bed and sleep until tomorrow. I. Am. Tired.

{The Backstory}

So, we're eating last night. It's about 6:30pm. Groceries are strewn haphazardly across the kitchen table and sink, and dinner was some kind of microwavable pasta that I got on sale for a buck. Becks is shoveling yogurt into his mouth with one hand while holding a perfectly capable spoon with the other. I guess it's only for show, since his hands are his utensil of choice. B and I are conversing about the day's events and suddenly there was a flicker. The lights.

On.

Off.

On.

Off.

No electric. Streetwide. Citywide.

I made a couple of phone calls to the energy company, reported our outage and prayed that this wasn't a repeat of September 2008 when we lost power for the entire work week. The automated machine said that we'd receive a phone call when power was restored. The difference between having a major power outage in September versus December is obviously temperature. Our poorly insulated 1950s cape cod was losing heat faster than you can say shiver me timbers, and we could barely hear each other over all the teeth chattering.

An hour later we were still powerless, so we gathered all the candle power we could and started packing our things to stay at my parents' place where heat and cable TV were abundant. Pending that promised call from the energy co., we'd planned to stay there all night.

So we end up sleeping over and all is peaceful and wonderful until Becks gets up wailing at 3am. We pull him into bed between us and head back into dreamland. Except not. Because Beckham was wide awake, and performed TWO AND A HALF HOURS worth of acrobatics between me and B for the duration of the night.

He repeatedly tossed and turned, headbutting me all the while in a futile attempt at getting comfortable. He smothered me with G (his lovie), and laid his head on my face. Then he would alternate between my stomach and face. Then he pivoted around so that his feet were by my head or B's stomach and he would start to kick. When I went to the bathroom at 4am, he insisted on accompanying me and asked for a drink and to brush his teeth. This went on for TWO AND A HALF HOURS. If you didn't catch that earlier, I thought I'd bold and underline it again. Because that's a long darn time. All in all, there was a whole lotta non-sleep going on.

At 5:30am, I gave up. And now I'm basically a zombie.

Oh, but lest my neighbor inform me - the power returned at 9pm last night.

Never got that phone call. Arrrrrrrgh.

Robeez Giveaway Winner!

Hey y'all! Will add a more detailed post later, but the winner of the Robeez shoes is Heather from Variable Clouds! Heather, please email me at babblingabby(at)gmail(dot)com so that I can discuss details with you :)

Thanks everyone for playing along!!!!

Holy chicken sandwich, Batman! {Why DO people say "Holy _____, batman?"}

Becks and I had a lunch date today at Chick-fil-A, which is probably, no unequivocally, the best fast food restaurant that exists. If you do not have this fine establishment in your vicinity, I suggest you move immediately to the closest shopping locale that for sure houses one or four of these. {Actually, our scummy mall redid its food court over a year ago and Chick-fil-A failed to renew its space, and we've been without one for awhile. And our mall is scummy because it is filled with scary people every time I'm there and I feel the need to sanitize and resanitize my hands, shoes, and stroller every time we visit. But that's where The Gap is, so it's sometimes necessary.}

Anyway, I love having a little buddy to dine-in with now. Even if our conversation centers around not throwing waffle fries on the floor and the cow covered Mylar bwoos (balloons), he's still pleasant company. He takes after his momma and enjoys people-watching tremendously. Seriously, I could sit and stare casually eye the interesting patrons all day. Like the woman who was there with three little boys, at least one being school age. Before she shifted sides of her booth seat so that we could conversate face-to-face and become fast food BFFs, I had already pegged her as a home schoolin' mama. Turns out I was on the money. Then it just got awkward because while she contined to talk, Becks and I were ready to run off to Target and I didn't know how to properly discontinue our conversation without being rude. Or her asking for my phone number so that we could our same-age boys together for a play date. Eventually, I gathered our things, said Nice meeting you! and maybe even See you soon! because I wasn't sure there was a more appropriate way to skidaddle. {Has this ever happened to you? What did you do?}


Target was busy. As expected. We were picking out gifts for our Angel Tree child, and my heart genuinely goes out to these kids. An Angel Tree child has one or more parents that are incarcerated, and the presents we buy are gifted to the child on behalf of their parent(s). So sad. I literally cannot imagine not seeing my child grow up. Prison Fellowship reaches out to these inmates and their families though, and I think that is such a worthy cause. If you're interested in this ministry, check out the links.

Our mission of the weekend is to locate Santa Claus so that I can get a pic of my sweet boy and the jolly old elf. However, heeding the warning of Mama Perks, I'm not sure that my budget is going to allow for these pictures... Apparently I'm out of the loop on the expense of a coveted Santa picture because I had NO IDEA that there was even a charge for this service. $19 for four wallets, for real?!

Happy weekend, people!!!

Rock, Paper, Scissors, MARKER?????? or LOSER PUTS UP THE TREE!

This is the happy family pre-Christmas tree assembly. You can tell Becks is already preparing for the worst...

Good afternoon, everyone. I am feeling better, and thank you for your many kind words of comfort and joy as I recover from intestinal hell.

There are a couple of things you should know, first off. Mainly that I returned to school today to find that the Christmas crazies had swapped my kindergarten class out for a bunch of yahoos. No, seriously, yahoos. Tomorrow I plan to threaten them with the Wrath of Coal, and how that's all they're going to find under the Christmas tree if they don't WATCH IT RIGHT NOW, MISTER.

So, that was fun. If you consider fun a pack of 5- and 6-year-olds talking, talking, talking while you're trying to teach, teach, teach. Because it is far more fun to play rock, paper, scissors, marker rather than listen to The Cajun Cornbread Boy (a sweet take on the popular Gingerbread Boy, if you're familiar). And who knew that the standard rock, paper, scissors game had now added an additional writing utensil? News to me. Though I would call it rock, paper, scissors, fine tip Sharpie if it were me. Just saying.

Speaking of fine tip Sharpies, I was planning to hand-address all thousand or so of our annual Christmas card - which is usually one of my favorite holiday hobbies since it involves me penning names and addresses in a variety of fonts and colors - but I think I'm going the completely impersonal route and turning an Excel spreadsheet into mailing labels. So sue me. There isn't a whole lot of time left hanging about around these parts, and what time is available I try to spend do things that require little brain matter, like scouring People for the latest RPatt pics. I kid. Or not.

While I have decorated for Christmas around Chez Babbling, I have yet to unfurl the nasty beast that is the artificial evergreen waiting for its annual release from its box in the basement. The warning on that box should not be that it contains small pieces that children could choke on (it probably doesn't say that though, since no child I know could fit twelve inches of prickly tree limb into his mouth without someone noticing), but instead that marital discord during assembly is inevitable.

And if y'all don't know what I'm talking about then you've for sure never assembled a seven foot tree with your spouse. And if you've seriously created the ideal process where both husband and wife can peaceably coexist during this feat, then publish a book and I'll buy it. Because never before, in our extensive 3.5 years of marriage (this being our fourth Christmas) have we ever put together an artificial Christmas tree without one spouse whispering under his/her breath that doesn't go there while the other tries to jab twelve inches of prickly tree limb into the absolute wrong place but is too proud to remove it so we have an awkward looking limb sticking out all misplaced for the duration of the Christmas season. Again, I kid.

So once the tree's up, I guess we'll call it a jolly holiday and move onto something more fun like baking gingerbread men or something. Which I am actually doing tonight, in hopes that the-class-formerly-known-as-kindergareteners will get to decorate tomorrow at the conclusion of our gingerbread unit. However, I did STAND ON A CHAIR (I was going for dramatic) today, to preach about good behavior and how I'M NOT EVEN ONE BIT SCARED to take away that fun activity if their behavior doesn't warrant it. I. Am. So. Mean.

Anyway, tomorrow's Friday, y'all, and that is a reason to do a little happy dance while you listen to Charlie Brown's Christmas on Pandora. Or you could play rock, paper, scissors, marker with your spouse and the loser has to put up the Christmas tree alone. Whatever suits your fancy.

Double Ick.

We are alive. Barely.

It's not been a good past 48 hours at the Babbling Household. After all of the Thanksgiving hubbub, the stomach flu hit me hard at 3:30am two days ago. I'll kindly spare you the details. Whatever I had was crazy contagious, and then in rolled my husband early from work yesterday having come down with the same thing. I felt awful. For me and for him. But mostly for Becks. Who, while he was in the loving arms of the nanas, had to avoid us for 24 hours and spent his first night away from the both of us. Amidst writhing in abdominal pain and shivering beneath a down comforter, I was also sobbing from missing him so much. It was terrible. For everyone involved.

So, I've subsisted on ginger ale and saltines for the past two days, and B is quarantined in our bedroom. While I'm on the upswing, he's probably a good 8 hours behind me, so I expect him to feel better by dinnertime.

The good news is that I felt well enough to clorox, lysol, and/or vinegar clean the entire house, anticipating the arrival of Becks who came home about an hour ago.

I hope y'all are in better health than we are.

And if you haven't participated yet, go check out my Robeez Giveaway posted below!