What I miss about staying

home full time...

• My table is all set for dinner, including napkins and silverware.
  
• There is fresh fruit washed and set attractively on the table in a large, ceramic bowl.
  
• There is fresh, homemade bread for dinner, and candles on the table, and the table has been wiped off, and placemats wiped off.
  
• The floor has been vacuumed, the living room straightened.
  
• A first round of sugar cookies is cooling on the counter.
• The Russian Orthodox Christmas Service is in the CD player.
• We will go and get a movie after dinner (Willow) for family night, and I am not completely exhausted or crazy.

Friday

Having stayed home with youngest son today, who needed to stay home, I made challah dough from scratch and am now baking it. The local coffeeshop has prepared a pan of moussaka for us (and even let me take home the glass baking dish, as the owner lives literally one street from me and knows where to find it) and I brought it home to bake after the bread.

The girl who cleans for us, also Jen, didn't show yesterday, so today I assumed her role, the role of Jen, and cleaned my house.

I tell you this not to bore you, but simply to establish that I am a somewhat, but not completely, lazy person, who also knows how to bake from scratch.

However, it is hard for me to explain my delight today at the grocery store at discovering that you can buy ready-made gingerbread man cookie dough.

Tommy, the youngest, as he is called, "And also, Tommy the dictator, and Tommy the prince," has very distinct ideas about how one should celebrate the holidays. Those ideas run along the lines of hot cocoa and marshmellows, but also gingerbread men, which he requested we make this weekend.

I make gingerbread houses, cheating with graham crackers, the week before Christmas with the kids. But I have never really been in to gingerbread men because the dough seems to take forever to put together for me. I mean, why not just make chocolate chip? So, I was gearing up for the mess, the mixing, and feeling tired by the time we would be ready to roll the dough, cut the men, and bake.

So, when I saw the dough sitting there on the top shelf, hiding, but waiting just to be rolled out, no muss, no fuss, and not Nestle, which I boycott, I bought two packages.

When I got back to the car where Tommy was waiting for me, at his insistence, I told him, "I was so excited about the gingerbread dough, that they asked me to leave the store. 'Ma'am,' they told me, 'You are scaring the children.'"

And that made him laugh and laugh, because the little bugger has never been afraid of me in his whole life.

Did you know...

that cats can projectile vomit?

I saw it today with my own eyes.

I lost one old kitty last winter, and this year, two of my oldest kitties are taking turns throwing up everywhere, all the time. I fear that I am going to lose another one this winter-- if not both.

It sucks.

Not just the losing my beloved pet part-- but the vomit. It's really gross.

I've never seen a cat throw up so much in my life.

It might be time to call the vet.

If you need a little sun...

Go read about Selina's cruise, right now! It was awesome!

A Christmas Story

Not long ago and far away, Santa was getting ready for his annual trip...but there were problems everywhere.

Four of his elves got sick, and the trainee elves did not produce the toys as fast as the regular ones so Santa was beginning to feel the pressure of being behind schedule.

Then Mrs. Claus told Santa that her Mom was coming to visit. This stressed Santa even more.

When he went to harness the reindeer, he found that three of them were about to give birth and two had jumped the fence and were out, heaven knows where to. More Stress!

Then when he began to load the sleigh, one of the boards cracked and the toy bag fell to the ground and scattered the toys.

Totally frustrated, Santa went into the house for a cup of coffee and a shot of whiskey. When he went to the cupboard, he found the elves had hit the liquor and there was nothing to drink.

In his frustration, he dropped the coffee pot and it broke into hundreds of little pieces all over the kitchen floor. He went to get the broom and found that mice had eaten the straw it was made from.

Just then the doorbell rang and Santa cussed on his way to the door.
He opened the door and there was a little angel with a great big Christmas tree. The angel said: "Where would you like to put this tree, fat man?"

And that my friend....is how the little angel came to be on top of the Christmas tree.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Running Late

Everything Benjamin Franklin said was true about early to bed and early to rise.

Unfortunately, we do not always want what is good for us.

Last night, we all stayed up too late, and so I got up late this morning and everybody was dragging. Tommy sneaked to watch tv instead of eating breakfast, and Sam discovered as we were getting ready to leave that he still had spelling words to correct.

I said, "Well, just do it at school while your teacher is making announcements and things, because you've got to learn to be able to do some work on the fly like that."

Sam: "It's against my principles to turn in my work late."

Wha' huh???? I guess the teacher asks them to hand in their work while he is sitting there making announcements (maybe he is actually teaching them and they are working when I go in, come to think of it), but where did MY kid get principles?

This came up last night too: Tommy said, "When Daddy says he loves God more than me, it really pisses me off."*

I'm like the old ladies in the baptist congregation going, "Mmmm-hmmmmm, sing it, honey," while Sam is like, "Daddy's right, you'll just use every opportunity to use foul language."

Later, Sam was banging around and making noise and I asked him what was going on.
"Well, it's against my principles to use bad language, so I have to make noise when I hurt myself instead."

This, from the kid whose mother could make a sailor blush (truly, I could).

I'm torn: do I want the aliens who have stolen my real children to keep them, so I can have the ones who play in the snow, or do I want my actual, lazy, unprincipled children back?**

*last night Tommy wanted me to call his father about the whole God thing, but I had Tommy leave him a message. The Father returned the call and we spoke very civilly about it and he said he would stop.

**It would seem, given Tommy's procilivity to sneak around watching TV this morning that perhaps the aliens have actually given him back, and merely kept the other two. And that seems about right.

Hey...

Look what I made.