So the Fish Said...

Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear.

- Walt Whitman

Meet the Fish

I want to get a pet duck and keep it in the bathtub.
I am addicted to chap stick and altoids.
I am freakishly flexible.


World's Most Beautiful Child

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World's Most Handsome Child

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Other Important Things

Clive Owen

Clive Owen
Pretend Celebrity Boyfriend


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Had to Happen Sometime

We had an inch of snow around here last week, which meant that the kids got out of school two hours early one day and went to school two hours late the next, because despite the fact that we get several accumulating snowfalls every year and that occasionally those accumulating snowfalls accumulate to the tune of 20 or so inches, when white things start falling from the sky, most people around here firmly believe it is the end of times.

Anyway, on the day they went in late, the kids wanted to go play in the light dusting of snow before school. So I got them dressed and bundled up to within an inch of their lives and then just threw my snow pants (really a pair of Adidas workout pants) and coat and scarf and such on over my pajamas and out we went. And then I drove Mia to school, because it was frigid and she was already half frozen and I had to go out anyway, and then Owen and I went to Target and the beer store and it wasn't until I was pushing my beer-and-Owen-laden cart out to the parking lot that I realized I was still wearing my pajamas. Which, considering how often I go to Target, was really only a matter of time.

And now, a tip on making it cheerfully through Christmas. If you are ordering from Amazon, hold onto those little inflated bag things that they use instead of bubble wrap. Because then when your kid spots the $5 Play-Dough cake making set that you got for your niece and pitches a huge, wobbly, pouting fit about it being for your niece and not for her and continues said fit even when you point out the frankly embarrassing number of wrapped boxes under the tree with her name on it, it is quite satisfying to go down to the basement and stomp those suckers until they pop. Purely in the name of cleaning up, of course.

The Cards are Coming! The Cards are Coming!

The Christmas cards have started arriving, and it is every bit as much fabulous fun as I hoped it would be. I love the cards and the letters and the pictures of the kids, and especially loved the cutest Christmas card/pregnancy announcement in the history of either. My cards (most of them, anyway) went out yesterday. My mother got hers today and was appalled, so at least the rest of you have something to look forward to.

(And you had better appreciate it, because I hand-addressed so many envelopes that my good pen ran out of ink. Do you have a good pen? One you like to write with that you stash away where the kids can't reach it and chew on it or turn it into a finger puppet or use it to stab a glue stick? I mean, this was my teacher note pen, and now it is no more. For a good cause, surely, but what a lousy time to blow through your good pen. Wait, are you all looking at me funny? I'll move on.)

Owen and I put up the outside lights and ground-based decorations today (the wreaths went up on the windows last week). It was 34 degrees, but he was demanding to play outside and we'd already been out on the swingset for an hour and he refused to go inside so I figured we may as well get something done. And you know those houses that are beautifully decorated and totally pulled together and have a theme and perfectly arranged lights? We are not one of those. I mean, we are never one of those, but this year I put Owen entirely in charge of the outside decorations. The results are predictable, they look like a two year old did it. But the two year old in question was thrilled, so it works for me.

I lost my voice on Wednesday, Chris says I sound like Mr. Bill and I can't argue with him. The only good part is that the kids find it hysterical when I sing Christmas carols. If it isn't better tomorrow I'm going to record myself and post it here so you can all enjoy the hilarity at my expense.

Christmas Card Therapy

Chris and I went out last night to celebrate his birthday (which is today, Happy Birthday Chris, and as always, thank you for being older than me). We had a lovely evening, which was capped off at 11:30 when Owen popped up out of bed with croup. Croup, of all things. My oldest kid is five and a half and Owen is almost three and we have never had croup. Anyway, Chris got to herald in his birthday holding Owen upright in the guest bed, checking his breathing every few minutes.

I spent the night similarly, although I was holding chest-cold-afflicted Mia upright in my bed. It was one of those very long nights that parenthood provides in abundance, and tonight promises more of the same.

So, when I happened to be ordering our Christmas cards this morning, I ordered entirely too many. Because it cost $5, and I remembered what fun I had exchanging Christmas cards with you guys a couple of years back and it cheered me right out of my poor-me funk to think about doing it again.

So, I have far more Christmas cards than I need, and if you have an extra lying around your house and would like to arrange a trade, leave me a comment. Now, when I did this before, I had a P.O. box, which is no longer the case, so I am going to be pretty stringent about only doing this with those of you I've known a while, at least. Nothing against the lurkers, some of the best emails and comments I have ever gotten have come from lurkers, but if I don't know you, you aren't getting my address.

Anyway, leave a comment if interested (please do not put your address in my comments), and I will email you back and we will make arrangements to spread a little holiday cheer in each other's directions. And the happy thoughts of all the mail and all the pictures and all the whatnot will give me something to focus on while I am holding a hacking child all night tonight.