For Christmas I Want...

A picture of my kids with Santa. This one is not what I had in mind. J is much too mature for such nonsense. He'd rather help me jump around and make faces trying to get the other two to laugh. Or smile. Or at least look interested. We did make the other people in the line smile with our antics. I'm sure it was in a patronizing, can-we-get-this-show-on-the-road way. I didn't get what I wanted; neither did they.

N agreed to do it without hesitation. Later he told me it was because last year he received a coupon from Santa for a free cookie at the mall cookie store and wanted another this year. He didn't want to ante up the funds himself so he chose Plan B, a picture with Santa, as the best option. Now, this is the punk who can't remember a Grammar rule two minutes after I teach it to him, but he can remember an obscure cookie coupon from a nasty, drunk, mall Santa a year ago. ARGH!! I guess I can live with reluctant participation and an ulterior motive.

M screamed. All toddlers scream at Santa. At least that's been my experience of three. Not a very large data sample, but let me tell you they've all screamed. It's okay, Santa is scary. I feel sorry for putting all of them through that trauma. But not sorry enough not to do it. I don't think I could live with myself years from now if I don't have screaming Santa pictures to gush over with their girlfriends.

So here's the final outcome. We're going to try a different approach this weekend. Maybe. If my nerves can take it.

The Lights of the Season

For a couple of evenings this week, we've been riding around enjoying the incredible Christmas displays set up in the area. Some people take a Less-is-More (or in our case a None-is-Best) approach to decorating. However, some go all out...a little crazy...over the top...call it what you wish. I just think they have an amazing gift and quite a talent. I'm sure it takes Herculean effort to set up some of the displays we've seen. Which brings me to my two conclusions. You knew that'd be coming, didn't you?

Conclusion #1: Some people have entirely too much time on their hands around Thanksgiving. They must go out to eat. And race around Christmas Eve buying all their gifts. So they can decorate during the in-between days.

Conclusion #2: I need to find out a way to borrow a few hours of their time. I'd love to have them come entertain my kids so I can deep clean my bathrooms and reorganize my closets. Better yet, I need to have them come deep clean my bathrooms and reorganize my closets while I entertain my kids. Yep, that sounds like the winner. I wonder if they shampoo carpets too.

Enough concluding. I know you really want to see the Christmas displays. Here is one we visited in a nearby neighborhood. Since Ah-boons play such an important role at our home, we refer to this display as the Ah-boon House. It's really a huge display that stretches over the lawns of several houses. I didn't know that many inflatables existed. I still don't believe they do. I think it's the same snowman in different clothes and different poses. Same Santa, too. Okay, okay. I really do believe it's that many. Seeing is believing.








Platforms are constructed to elevate the inflatables in the back. Tiered approach to ah-boon overload. Hmmm, interesting.









Here is the walking path down the driveway.










The backyard has a carnival feel.










Plus the sound of many air pumps. And enough penguins to populate a Pole.


Did you notice the snow globe on the left side? The freakishly large snow globe that I feared would suck me into it's snow world and make me live there where people watch me all the time. It has an identical twin on the right side of the picture too. I should probably see a professional to discuss my fears. But first I need to deeply contemplate what happens to me during the daytime when my snow world is a deflated pile of nylon.

By the way, I finally relented and used a flash. The area was just too dark. I hate it when that happens. I prefer the dark and moody shots with no flash. Unfortunatley the back area of the display was too dark, and I was too moody.











There's that snow globe in the back, taunting me. I think the freakishly large snowman beside it is the snow globe security guard. He's got a broom and he's licensed to use it.
















Time to go. Really, I can't get away from the globes fast enough.




Back to the front of the house. There is a house back there, really. I saw bits and pieces of it.

It's right behind the whole row of snow gl--

Moving right along...









Elmo is always good for a smile. He's not scary at all. Unless he's over 12 feet tall. This one appears to be only about 10 feet. We're good.

















Now polar bears over 12 feet are another story. That's the eave of the house just above Pooh's hand. I'm going to take a sedative now and tell you about another (less traumatic) display tomorrow.

An Update on the Burns

Many have asked about M and his burns. I apologize for not posting updates earlier. I keep forgetting, what with all the other very important things I have going on.


He's doing extremely well. He's healed great and except for one small area, we see no lingering scarring. The exception we're treating with scar cream (when we remember) and hope it goes away eventually. I really don't think he remembers what happened, but he does have a rapid and respectful response when one of us tells him "Hot." At least most of the time. Sometimes, since he's the Babiest, he can't hear anyone correct him. No one should ever tell the Babiest "No" for any reason. Only in his world. In mine, we should have named him No and cut out the unnecessary words that follow or precede No when speaking to him.

What Kind of Idiot Am I?

Yes, I must be one. You can stop counting the traits that prove this label. We're going to concentrate on just one right now.

So here I am, going about my merry little life, when all of the sudden Black Friday hits. If you don't know what it is, I'm impressed. You are not swayed by mass marketing like yours truly. Like many thousands of other idiots I leave a nice warm snuggly bed bright and early (actually still dark and early) clutching onto lists, fliers, sales papers, coupons, and newspapers and take off.

This is my self-portrait. My arms are too short to take a picture of myself at 4:00 in the morning. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. But I really am this skinny...and I do dress this fashionably too.

Did you know there is a lot of traffic at 4:30 am on Black Friday? Interestingly enough, all of the traffic lights are synchronized perfectly, unlike during daylight hours. At least I think they were. They were for me anyway. Hmmm...

This is Toys R Us at 4:38-ish. Notice how far away it appears? Appearances are not deceiving. I didn't actually get in the TRU parking lot, but two lots over.

Here is Circuit City at 4:39-ish. How convenient that some fabulous city retail planner would put these two money pits next to one another! It sure makes my Black Friday flow a little more smoothly.


Speaking of city retail planners, I'd like to find out why a metro area this size has only one stinkin' Toys R Us. I'd like to speak with this person and maybe show him a nice parcel of land a few blocks from my house.

Then again, maybe not.


Did I mention the size of the line? Or the fact that it's cold? Or that it's now raining? Or that it's 4:40-ish in the morning? So after standing in line with half of the other parents in the city at this one and only TRU, I manage to get the heck outta the place two hours later.

This is Target at 7:17-ish. Crowded also, but better. At least I'm in the same parking lot.


Here's Stage at 8:13-ish. Even closer, wow! Of course by now nothing I wanted to buy remains. I persevere, but at a quicker pace.


Here's WalMart at 8:39-ish. Yes, I'm in the very front space. I saw the parking lot at 4:20. Even I'm not that much of an idiot. But I was on a quest for a box of graham crackers, and they could wait until 8:39. I bought them without even so much as standing in line.



I was quite fascinated by a radio advertisement I heard repeatedly during my morning drive informing shoppers of WalMart's status as the largest importer of Chinese-made products in the US. Perhaps it had some people listening and thinking. The entire time I was in the store, messages over the loudspeaker kept announcing the availability of doorbuster merchandise that, in years past, would have been sold out in an hour.



The following series of pictures I affectionately refer to as "the long road home."

I'm now putting up my feet and sipping a well-earned latte while I contemplate what a great wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunt...and idiot...I am.

I hope you had a wonderful and blessed Black Friday Eve. That's Thanksgiving to all you non-idiots of the world.

I'm Happy Today

Some things make me very happy.

But other things make me completely ecstatic.


"It was what it was."

That is an amazingly profound and deep intellectual statement. Boy how I've missed such tremendous insight. Or not.

We bleed purple and gold, of course, but don't even mention to me that Mrs. Saban has been seen house hunting around here. LaLaLaLa, I can't hear you. There are some things that don't bear repeating, in words or, most importantly, actions. Hmph.

A What Tree?

So do you know what this picture below is? I thought I knew as well, but apparently we're being sent down a convoluted trail, one which is disturbing on so many levels. I'm not confused though, and I'll clear it right up.


This is a Christmas Tree. Specifically it is my Christmas Tree from last year. It is not a "Family Tree" (ya hear that Lowe's?). Nor is it a "Holiday Tree" (ya hear that Target?).


My family is sitting under it. Actually, they are fighting under it. That doesn't change the title of it one iota. That merely makes it a family's Christmas tree or a tree for display during the Christmas holiday. Can you see the difference?

Here's where I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Shhh. Don't tell anyone, but it's not a real tree. It's an artificial one. Pick yourself up off the floor now and admit you are shocked that such a lifelike beauty is actually made in a manufacturing plant and began as a bunch of plastic pellets.

You know this is leading up to something. At least you're hoping it is, right? Well, the tree is getting old and losing lots of needles (see I told you it was lifelike). It will probably need to be replaced soon. Next week I'll drag it out of the attic to see if this is the year, or if it can hold out one more season. Regardless of when I replace it, I do know what I will buy. And what I will not.

I will not buy a Family Tree (sorry, Lowe's). I will not buy a Holiday Tree (sorry, Target). I will buy a Christmas Tree. Bless you, Hobby Lobby, for calling a spade a spade...and a Christmas Tree a Christmas Tree!

Now I'm going to wash the political correctness rant off my fingers. The next post will be back to my regular "aren't my little darlings just perfect?" posts to which you look forward. And believe unequivocally.

The First Snowfall of the Season

The first snowfall conjures up images of a magical time, a time of enjoyment and bliss, a time when people of all ages are like kids playing in the soft whiteness. Did I mention fact that we live in the south? The deep south? And the fact that I'm overwhelmed in papers, files, and excess documents everywhere? Stuff that must be shredded.

So welcome to our first snowfall of the season...my style!



We had a blast, but what was even more fun was the following night. I shredded about ten times more paper, and had two more kids joining in the fun. Of course I forgot to take pictures until halfway through cleaning time. Some things I will stage to get a good picture, but five garbage bags of confetti does not qualify. I guess you just have to take my word for it...it was so much fun and so much mess!

I think Babiest decided to hide some for later. I've found handfuls in a couple of different drawers, a pot, his closet, and the Little People Farm (I'm guessing for animal bedding since we've lost the hay bale). I doubt I've found all hiding places because some kept appearing today, but I never found the stash. Too bad it doesn't melt and disappear. I wonder how long I'll find paper shreds in hidden places...

You Know You're a (Baby) Redneck When...

You must always teach your kids to define themselves and you must give them a sense of self-worth from early on. In an attempt to define the Babiest, the Baby Redneck looks like a very appropriate category. In order to determine if he qualifies as a Baby Redneck, let's look a bit closer, shall we?



A Baby Redneck likes miscellaneous colorful plastic things in the yard...

A Baby Redneck never lets his swim diaper match his rubber stomping boots...

A Baby Redneck accessorizes with a hose pipe and a plastic sprinkler...

Yep, I think we've found the right category. But I'll not let him place any large appliances on my front porch. Without my permission.

Deal, or No Deal

I'm not really going to say much about what's been going on. Here's the abbreviated version: burns (but you probably already read about those) pneumonia, more pneumonia, yucky virus, ear infection, more ear infection, and more ear infection, termites, and a very nasty stomach virus (repeat that to yourself four more times, please; I don't have the energy to retype it). I'm not going to say all is finally well here because, ahem, I'm not quite ready for that much commitment. My commitment-phobia pops up in the strangest places, as you see.

Needless to say a lot has happened since I last posted. I'll walk you back through everything in upcoming posts, but for now I'll just start at the, um, now. Okay, ready?

So, what's the deal about Deal, or No Deal, you ask? In the past D and I have spent the first couple of weeks in November hiding in the closet, avoiding the sugar-induced pandemonium that follows a tremendous windfall of the trick-or-treating variety. A couple of years ago I came up with the brilliant idea that I could possibly "buy" the candy back from them--for a price, of course. Knowing that the guys are not very concerned about growing their wealth (or protecting their teeth), I had to come up with something really enticing to cause them to give up the stuff they walked so hard to earn. Cold cash wouldn't do it for them. Uh-huh.

This is where Deal, or No Deal comes into play. The boys really like the show, so I made our version of it at home, with Halloween candy as the currency. In the "case" (a gift bag) I had a special mystery treat. On the white board is listed three or four options to earn the case. They choose an option of their liking, but they all end with me receiving the vast majority of the candy. Don't ask what happens to it after that. I'll never admit tell.

So here is the November 1, 2007 Deal, or No Deal.

First we are in accumulation mode...

...and accumulate they do!


Here is the final haul, with very heavy bags. Our neighbors are very generous, especially when a tiny little cow is in the group.



They chose option three, which gave them one piece of candy a day for the next fifteen days. I get to dispose of the rest in exchange for the precious "case." Oh, did I say it was a gift bag? Well, this year I couldn't find a gift bag big enough to hold it. I really couldn't!



So here we are, with the new Super Soakers (Arctic Blasts, of all things) and swim trunks. A plan is formulating. Suddenly a fortress appears.

The fortress needs defending.

Defending at all costs. Get back you filthy invaders!

Artillery, check!

Filthy invader, check!

Target. Site. Attack!

And attack!

And attack some more!

"I can't help you, you filthy invader."

"I'm much too busy being adorable."

The victory laps, er, swings.

And we're off to formulate a new plan. Who wants to be a bank robber today?

I think M chose the right weapon...no reload necessary!

Now, will someone please remind me about this November 1st post, with the Super Soakers, swim trunks, and plastic pools when I start complaining about the hottest day of the year next summer? I occasionally need to be reminded why I like living in the south.