post-christmas rambling, simon, this and that
I know someone who actually blogged every day this year. Crazy eh? And I read this other blog of this other crazy person who wants to blog every day for the first ninety days of 2012.
Part of me wants in on it. Part of me says "Ha! I'm way too lazy and unimaginative for such nonsense." We'll see. I should probably try to do more. I have this dream (dream? Really?) of one day printing out my blog. Someday I'll tell the kids that I didn't need baby books, baby pictures, to keep all the "art" they make me, because I have a blog and that's at least as good as a half-completed baby book.
What's new? Well, Christmas is over. I like Christmas. I also hate Christmas half the time. Funny how the biggest holiday of the year can inspire so many mixed emotions. It's not like when I was a kid and my mom would plan and prepare and organize our family's time and all I had to do was get up on Christmas morning, tear through my presents and eat turtles, and then follow my parents from gathering to gathering for the next few days. Those Christmases were awesome.
Christmas mornings are still awesome. I love the kids' excitement. This year I was actually up before the light turned orange so I hopped through the shower. I could hear Tennyson jump out of bed (literally - he sleeps on the top bunk and sees no use for the ladder) and race down the hall. Two seconds later he came bursting into the bathroom yelling "Mommy, Mommy! Santa eated his cookies!"
One of my favorite Christmas moments - the pure joy that the little bit of Christmas magic had actually left evidence in our home. Love it.
I didn't tell him that not only did Santa eat his cookies, Santa's multiple personalities actually fought over those cookies. They were delicious, or at least Santa said they were.
Something profound?
I have absolutely no ability to estimate the size of someone's pjs. I also realized that I will lose the receipt that I need for multiple gifts, and that Steven may not love me enough to put his own socks in the hamper, but he will go through the garbage bag by bag in the garage looking for a receipt so that I don't have to. Weird eh?
Isn't it nice how I managed to work a little guilt-trip into a post-Christmas blog post?
Simon is sitting on the top of the back of the couch. He must have skipped the part in the memo that poopoos that kind of behavior.
Who is Simon you ask?
This is he:
He's a puppy. A shih tzu to be exact (not shitzu as I have previously spelled it). We're babysitting him for a week to see if we want to keep him. Jordan and Tennyson are psyched to have a dog here for a few days, Mitchell is warming up to him and Elliot cries and runs away when he looks at her. If I were him I'd have so much fun with that.
I just caught him gnawing on the corner of the end table. Oops. Don't tell Steven. Apparently Steven only agreed to the dog because I pestered him and when I came right out and asked him if he was forbidding it he said "Well, no I can't forbid it," I greenlighted the adopt-a-dog plan. Steven's not much of a forbidder.
He just called me now and I mentioned the dog and he said "Aww, right. We have a dog," and I made him feel better by letting him know that Simon only had mild doggie breath and when he came in all wet from the yard I let him lay on Steven's pillow on the couch, so the couch is fine.
I am fantastic at putting his little mind at ease about stuff.
Seriously though, Simon is cute. We'll see how the week goes and if the kids don't seem all allergic and the puppy hasn't turned into a snarling bundle of child-induced anxiety (not unlike myself) we may become a dog family!
What else?
See? One blog post and I run out of stuff to complain/talk/rant about. I don't know how I'd make a month, three months or a year.
I may have to start not-me-Mondaying again, or just stick random daily pictures on here or giant pink versions of my name. That would be interesting. I could see my blog following skyrocket with that kind of blog fodder.
Part of me wants in on it. Part of me says "Ha! I'm way too lazy and unimaginative for such nonsense." We'll see. I should probably try to do more. I have this dream (dream? Really?) of one day printing out my blog. Someday I'll tell the kids that I didn't need baby books, baby pictures, to keep all the "art" they make me, because I have a blog and that's at least as good as a half-completed baby book.
What's new? Well, Christmas is over. I like Christmas. I also hate Christmas half the time. Funny how the biggest holiday of the year can inspire so many mixed emotions. It's not like when I was a kid and my mom would plan and prepare and organize our family's time and all I had to do was get up on Christmas morning, tear through my presents and eat turtles, and then follow my parents from gathering to gathering for the next few days. Those Christmases were awesome.
Christmas mornings are still awesome. I love the kids' excitement. This year I was actually up before the light turned orange so I hopped through the shower. I could hear Tennyson jump out of bed (literally - he sleeps on the top bunk and sees no use for the ladder) and race down the hall. Two seconds later he came bursting into the bathroom yelling "Mommy, Mommy! Santa eated his cookies!"
One of my favorite Christmas moments - the pure joy that the little bit of Christmas magic had actually left evidence in our home. Love it.
I didn't tell him that not only did Santa eat his cookies, Santa's multiple personalities actually fought over those cookies. They were delicious, or at least Santa said they were.
Something profound?
I have absolutely no ability to estimate the size of someone's pjs. I also realized that I will lose the receipt that I need for multiple gifts, and that Steven may not love me enough to put his own socks in the hamper, but he will go through the garbage bag by bag in the garage looking for a receipt so that I don't have to. Weird eh?
Isn't it nice how I managed to work a little guilt-trip into a post-Christmas blog post?
Simon is sitting on the top of the back of the couch. He must have skipped the part in the memo that poopoos that kind of behavior.
Who is Simon you ask?
This is he:
He's a puppy. A shih tzu to be exact (not shitzu as I have previously spelled it). We're babysitting him for a week to see if we want to keep him. Jordan and Tennyson are psyched to have a dog here for a few days, Mitchell is warming up to him and Elliot cries and runs away when he looks at her. If I were him I'd have so much fun with that.
I just caught him gnawing on the corner of the end table. Oops. Don't tell Steven. Apparently Steven only agreed to the dog because I pestered him and when I came right out and asked him if he was forbidding it he said "Well, no I can't forbid it," I greenlighted the adopt-a-dog plan. Steven's not much of a forbidder.
He just called me now and I mentioned the dog and he said "Aww, right. We have a dog," and I made him feel better by letting him know that Simon only had mild doggie breath and when he came in all wet from the yard I let him lay on Steven's pillow on the couch, so the couch is fine.
I am fantastic at putting his little mind at ease about stuff.
Seriously though, Simon is cute. We'll see how the week goes and if the kids don't seem all allergic and the puppy hasn't turned into a snarling bundle of child-induced anxiety (not unlike myself) we may become a dog family!
What else?
See? One blog post and I run out of stuff to complain/talk/rant about. I don't know how I'd make a month, three months or a year.
I may have to start not-me-Mondaying again, or just stick random daily pictures on here or giant pink versions of my name. That would be interesting. I could see my blog following skyrocket with that kind of blog fodder.
Comments
Go for it...surely if you can write a novel in a month you can think of 1 thing to write each day. :)
PS my favourite book making program has a blog to book program which I might use to make a book some day:
http://www.blurb.com/create/book/blogbook