Fa la la la la la la la late.

So, what better way to celebrate New Year’s Eve than to post pictures of our Christmas festivities?  Sure, it’s almost a week late, but I’m hardly punctual. 

This was the only photo I got of Anna in her full outfit.  After this point, the shoes came off, the drooling commenced, and the bow was pulled.  Of course my child is doing something really random like holding a Tostitos bag in this picture, but I thought I’d post it anyway.   

Here’s our only family photo.  As usual, Joe is copping a feel, my hair is covering his face, we’re out of focus and our child is looking at something else.  

Joe is copping a lower feel and it even looks like Anna is trying to cop a feel.  I obviously think this is all funny.  Joe’s eyes are closed.  Anna is, once again, looking at something else. 

Our aunt had the diamonds from my late grandmother’s 50th wedding anniversary set in a necklace for all of the granddaughters.  It was the greatest gift we could’ve received – we were all very emotional.  L to R:  Cousin Aly, Cousin Heather, Me, My sister Nicolle, Cousin Meredith

Here’s the necklace.  What a wonderful tribute to an incredible woman. 

Here we are (sister, me) with my grandfather, a retired Marine. 

Here’s my child in a mound of presents.  She looks a little overwhelmed, doesn’t she?

And here she is playing with the wrapping paper.  That’s really all she cared about. 

Future blackmail photo.  I call this one, “Dazed and Confused.”

Yay!  Finally a good photo of her precious woodchuck teeth!

Yeah, I think it’s safe to say that my child really loves this mailbox toy.  Also, did you know that all Fisher-Price toys have the same aggravating woman voice?  I’m extremely happy about this since about 80% of her toys are from Fisher-Price.  Head.bang.against.wall.

Let’s get a little up close and personal, shall we?  I love the photos below.  My grandmother took them with her new camera.  She did a great job!

Anna makes this face when she smells something stinky.  She must’ve found daddy in the bathroom again.  Either that or her Christmas meal kicked in.  Bada bing, bada boom.

I don’t want no stinkin’ beans.

Gee, Anna is looking away from the camera. 

The whole family!  Looks like my sister and I traded spouses.  Oh, and there are lots of orbs in this picture.  Perhaps my mom’s house is haunted.  L to R:  Brother-in Law Trent, me, Mom, Anna, dad, Joe, Nicolle (Aunt Lea Lee)

Anna’s and my BFF – Aunt Lea Lee.  I love my sister! Oh, she’s 17 weeks pregnant, too.  Woo hoo!  I’m going to be an aunt. 

Overall, Christmas day was wonderful. We all kept the gift giving to a minimum and just chose to focus on the real reason for the season - family, friends, Jesus, food that is good. Ok, the season isn't really about food, but if you're in my family, that is certainly one of the perks! My mom cooked a delicious meal that everyone enjoyed.  We played “Bad/Dirty Santa” and exchanged cool, but inexpensive, gifts.  Anna got more toys than she needs, and I got to spend time with the greatest people on earth – my family. 

I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas this year.

Be safe and have fun tonight, don't pop fireworks in your house or eat too many black eyed peas tomorrow. May all of your hopes and dreams come true this year. Remember to always focus on what's important - your family and your health. Everything else is secondary.

Come out of the closet.

Ok, it’s not really a closet, but I had to think of a witty title, and that’s all I could come up with. So, sue me. It’s the holidays, and the few creative brain cells I have left have been overtaken by tryptophan and green bean casserole.

My child has discovered a new, fun play area. She's as bad as my cat Chloe when it comes to hiding out in spots that scare the crap out of you when you find her. I’m just really glad she picked a clean cabinet otherwise you’d never see this photo. If she’d chosen, say, our pantry, this blog would’ve never been written. I can’t even find crap in our pantry – she’d be lost forever.

Giant rat.

I'm an animal lover. People who know me know that I will go to the ends of the earth to save an animal. Many times I've dodged traffic to save a stray dog from certain death or slipped in mud and muck while trying to catch an abandoned kitten. With all of my good animal deeds, one would think I'd have a harem of great pets, right? Wrong.

My animals are all nightmares. All three of them. Little furry puking, pooping, peeing balls of nightmares.

Don't get me wrong. I love them.

Sometimes.

Most of the time I'm looking at them with malice in my eyes for the many presents they leave me on the floor. I'd say this look pretty much sums it up for me:

Thank God for my Steam Vac and my ability to somewhat keep a clean house otherwise these animals would get the best of me.

So, in keeping with their aggravating personas, tonight while I was putting something away in Anna's bib drawer, I had the scare of my life. Heart-attack inducing. Gut wrenching. Pass out on the ground and wake up 5 hours later scare.

A rat jumped out of the drawer.

A huge, gray and orange rat with big, freaky eyes and a furry tail. A rat that meowed much like one of my cats would meow. A rat with cat breath and cat whiskers.
A rat named Chloe.

Chloe the cat or rat had taken ownership of my daughter's bib drawer when it was semi-opened from earlier. I guess she assumed it was OK to nap in there because she certainly looked put-off after I opened the drawer and accused her of being a huge rat.

She is very rat-like, isn't she?

Where’s dada?

Whenever I ask my child, my dear sweet girl, where her dada is, do you know where she goes?

The garage? Nope.

The back door to see if he's doing yard work? Nope.

The couch to see if he's watching TV? Nope.

She heads straight to the bathroom.

I'm trying to figure out if this is funny or sad. I think it may be a bit of both.

El cheapo.

Wanna know why I can get away with being a cheap bastard for Christmas this year? 

Because my child will be completely entertained by a kitchen spatula thingy for hours and hours.  I will enjoy this time of frugality because I know it will be short-lived once she gets wind that there are toys out there that aren’t inscribed with the words Kitchen Aid.  

Mr. Bob Hope

My husband is a cutie, no doubt. He has beautiful eyes and a sweet smile, and everyone who meets him falls in love with him instantly ‘cause he’s just a likeable kinda guy. Much like Bob Hope. I mean he was Rose’s pretend father, for Pete’s sake!

So, what's up with all of this Bob Hope, hubby lovin' nonsense?

Perhaps it's because I just discovered that my husband is either 1) the illegitimate child of Bob Hope (Mrs. J, is there something you’re not telling me?) or 2) a weird reincarnation of the man.

See for yourself. Notice the resemblance?

Me, my husband, some crawfish, a few potatoes

Bob Hope in his prime.

There are a few slight differences, of course. For one, Joe doesn't have the trophy that Bob is holding in that picture. Other than that, they could seriously pass for twins with the exception of the nose tip.

What do you think?

A visual.

Why do I have dark circles and bags under my eyes constantly?

Let me draw it out for you. Below is a graphical representation of our sleeping setup since my child has been teething.

As you can see from the beautiful drawing above, my child has taken ownership of our little queen bed. Joe and I have to hang on to our mattress for dear life while our precious child becomes the dash (-) to our little family H.

Throw in two fur ball cats, one of which can only sleep if she's on me in some capacity, and you have our sleeping setup in Casa de No Sleep.

I think we need a king bed, yes?

I called it.

Who is the Queen of Jinx?

---> ME <--- THIS GIRL IS! Yeah, I called it in my last post. Let the coffee drinking and Samoa eating commence.

9:30 p.m.
Waaaah. Wail. Cry.

10 p.m.
Waaaah. Wail. Cry.

10:05 p.m.
Waaaah. Wail. Cry.

You get my point here. It was an awful night. Lucifer Baby Anna Kate was out in full force, and now I'm going to have to try to figure out how to conceal these 2 lb. bags under my eyes to look presentable for my company Christmas party tonight.

Maybe everyone will be drunk and not notice?

It's 9 a.m., do you know where your child is?

I do.

She's still asleep.

And I have thanked Baby Jesus for this blessed Christmas miracle.

Anna was toothless for many, many months. I skipped all the sleepless hocus pocus that many teething children churn out in the early months. I got my full 8 every night, and I was grateful, truly grateful.

Then one tooth came in and another and another and another. Now we're up to four teeth with more on the way, and not only has my child paid dearly, but so have I.

I think the teething gods have smiled upon our family because for the past few nights, my child has slept like an old farm dog. Soundly, quietly, peacefully. There's nothing sweeter than that.

And now I realize that I have probably jinxed all of this and my next post will discuss how the demon has been released once again. I will be ODing on pots of coffee and Girl Scout Samoa cookies to get through the next batch of teeth.

All I want for Christmas is a PedEgg.

When people ask me what I want for Christmas every year, I'm left standing there like der, um, der. Heck if I know? The last time I actually bought something for myself - well, I can't even comment on that because I honestly don't remember. So, when I throw out practical gifts like PedEggs and Swiffer mops, don't stare at me all crazy like. I don't care about jewelry. I don't care about expensive purses, ahem handbags. I don't care about shoes or clothes or anything else that people think I should care about. All I care about is you spending your hard-earned dollars wisely. If that means I'd like a $10 PedEgg to make my skin so soft or a $15 Swiffer mop to make my floors so shiny, by all means, please go to your local Walgreens and throw it in the cart. I'm not joking. I'm not trying to be witty or funny. That's really what I want.

My husband, bless his heart, has this idea in his head that all women, even me, really want more. So, if I say, "No, honey, I don't want that Coach purse. My $10 Target special is just fine." He thinks I really mean, "If you loved me, you would spend $500 on the Coach purse and throw in a matching wallet for extra brownie points." I'm not that girl. When I say I want a $10 Target purse, I really want a $10 Target purse. When I say I want a PedEgg, I really want a PedEgg.

You get the point.

So, Merry McFrugal Christmas to all. May your stockings be full of PedEggs and your homes fragrant with the sweet smell of Swiffer w/ Febreeze.

What is Santa bringing you this year?

It's just another manic Monday.

And, yes, I wish it was Sunday.

'Cause that's my fun day.

Not really - I prefer Saturdays, but whatever.

So, Christmas is almost here. I've not bought one present. We're going the cheap route this year and just focusing on the season and not on the never-ending array of useless crap that people give and get. Call me Scrooge, but methinks many have lost the real focus of the season. It's just taken a recession to get that through our thick skulls.

Our recession-ish Christmas will be light on gifts but heavy on love. I may pick out a few things for my child. Some inexpensive and fun things. I can get away with inexpensive this year. Next year, maybe not. I better take advantage of the fact that my child prefers to play with the box and paper instead of the actual gift inside.

With that in mind, I need some suggestions. I'm leaning towards a little comfy chair she can sit in while she's watching the tele with us. Maybe a play kitchen so she can learn to cook for pa' and me. A play vacuum so I can further genderize my little girl. Something? Anything? I need suggestions, please. What are you getting your little ones for Christmas?

If you're Daddy Warbucks, no need to respond. I need cheap and fun, and I mean that in the most innocent and purest sense.

America’s Most Wanted.

My child’s newest obsession is emptying drawers and cabinets.  It doesn’t matter what’s inside the drawer or cabinet – my child will make sure it’s removed and scattered in random spots around the house so I can’t find it when I need it. 

The other day while cleaning cat puke off of my carpet for the 100th time this week, I left my child in the safety of her room. She could play while I cleaned up puke. Pretty fair deal, right?

I was gone no more than 1 minute and came back to the beautiful site below.

Admit into evidence: Exhibit A

In this photo, it is clear that the defendant, Miss Anna K, attacked the innocent burp cloths and bibs in drawer #2.  As evidenced in this photo, the aforementioned bibs and burp cloths are strewn about carelessly, leaving a huge mess for the plaintiff, Mrs. Natalie C., to clean. 

Admit into evidence: Exhibit B

In this photo, the defendant, Miss Anna K, threw numerous burp cloths and bibs outside of her baby gated cage.  As evidenced with the “Mom – I am so not into green beans” bib, it is obvious this was a crime of passion given the defendant’s distaste for green beans and anything green, for that matter. 

Admit into evidence: Exhibit C

In this photo, additional bibs and burp cloths were thrown carelessly into other areas of the home (the office).  The defendant, Miss Anna K, left no room untouched. 


Admit into evidence: Exhibit D

The defendant was caught red-handed during her destructive outburst.  Since the defendant is under-age, we are required to protect her identity.

Eh, what the heck - she's too cute to cover up!

That’s a sippy cup cover for anyone who is wondering.  It does look a little weird, right?

Admit into evidence: Exhibit  E

 

It’s obvious from this photo that the defendant shows no remorse for her actions.  Flipping around on a Boppy and giggling the entire time proves our case. 

We the jury find the defendant, Anna K, GUILTY in the case of State Vs. Anna K – bib/burp cloth vandal.  We hereby sentence Anna K. to a lifetime of hugs, kisses and tickles.

Case closed!

We were "those" people.

Let me start this post with a brag.

My child is a wonderful little baby - very easy going, happy most of the time, generous and giving (she likes to feed me her food - mainly the vegetables she doesn't like), adaptable in most situations. So, basically we've had a pretty easy go of it this past year or so. People always comment on how well-behaved she is at restaurants, in stores, at parties, at friends' homes, etc. You get the picture, angel child, right?

Ok, yes.

However, there's another side to my child. One that I don't see very often. One that makes me weep and gnash my teeth. One that makes me pray to baby Jesus.

This devil child, Satan incarnate, came to greet me on Saturday.

The day started out fairly well. My family and I met at Chili's for lunch to carb up for our day at the mall. My main goal for the day was to have Anna take pictures with Santa since I lost my "Mom of the Year" badge last year for not taking her. To reclaim that status, I figured I'd battle the crowds in a place that's equivalent to the DMV in my opinion (I hate to shop, I think I'm a man). My child is worth it, right? That's what I had to keep telling myself as we got closer to the entrance to the mall.

Let me back up and say that Anna was an angel at lunch. As long as she had food in front of her, she was quiet. She eats like a defensive lineman, so the food was a flowin' all lunch long, and she didn't make a single peep. How proud was I?

However, the second we hit that stale mall air, my angel baby was replaced by Lucifer baby. Lucifer Baby Anna Kate. LBAK if you want to have anything monogrammed for her.

While waiting in line for pictures with Santa, it slowly snowballed. First it was a whimper. Then it was a whine. Then it was a full-out cry until I gave her a pen and paper for her to hold (she likes office products). As soon as we took the pen and paper away to take the pictures, she freaked out. The photographer managed to get one photo of her where she was smiling - the rest of them looked like she was being tortured by Santa. Looking back, I should've purchased one of those to use as future blackmail photos when her boyfriends come over for dinner.

Here's the one photo where she's not crying (it's a picture of a picture, so please excuse the quality):
I figured once we got her away from the big man in the red suit, she'd calm down. Nope. Wrong.

It got worse. Much worse.

She wasn't happy in her stroller. She wasn't happy being held. She wasn't happy eating ice cream. She wasn't happy no matter what we did. Puppet shows, dance contests, jumping up and down like a gorilla - nothing worked. She was unimpressed, and we looked like fools. People were staring and whispering and pointing. They were growling at us and running away. We just stood there paralyzed and unable to really do much of anything to appease this viscious beast.

The worst part of it all was that I dressed inappropriately. Little did I know that when it's 40 degrees outside, it's 80 degrees inside. The turtleneck sweater I was wearing felt like a Brillo Pad straight jacket. Sweat, stress, anxiety = bad mood for all. It made for a very miserable day for everyone involved, us, my child, the shoppers around us. No fun was had. The Grinch, Scrooge and Lucifer had taken control of my sweet baby girl and spread their misery to all.

This tirade continued until she finally conked out in her stroller after Joe pushed her around in circles for about an hour. Then we ran into a "friend" who decided to lift the stroller cover and talk to her, and the beast was released again.

At that point, we gave up and admitted defeat. We left the mall, got some Popeyes chicken on the way home, and burrowed in our home praying for a more peaceful tomorrow.

The peace came eventually, but we are still dealing with the post-traumatic-stress that day caused. I still wake up in the middle of the night and hear the cries of that day much like the battle sounds from wars past.

I've been naughty.

In the world of blogging, I'm a lazy blogger. I have all of these fantastic ideas and funny stories I want so share, but when it comes down to it, I'm just too lazy to post about them. It's not until good friends like Berg point out that it's been nearly a month since my last blog entry that I finally realize just how lazy I am. I do apologize for my laziness. I hope the two people who read this blog can find it in their hearts to forgive me.

Um.

Let's see. Not much has been going on with me. I'm just trying to enjoy the holiday season as much as possible since it always seems to be over in the twinkle of an eye. Then January comes - what a dreary and depressing month. February sucks even more since I've been with my husband for so long that we've both forgotten what it's like to be romantic. Valentine's Day is cruel even for married folk. March, eh, I'm not Irish or an alcoholic, so not too much partying happens on St. Pat's Day. April - too rainy. May, my birthday - it's not fun after 21. June - hot, hot, hot. July - hot, hot, hot. August - hot, hot, hot. September - hot, hot, hot. October - the holy grail of months - fall, Halloween, spiced cider (not that I ever drink it, but I like the idea of it), the beginning of all of the cool holidays. November - turkey day, gobble gobble. December - Christmas, cool weather, ornaments, hot chocolate, mashed potatoes.

Now I'm hungry.

So, in the spirit of Christmas, here are my decorations this year. I am happy to say that this is the first official year we've had a tree in our house. The first year our Target pre-lit tree didn't pre-light. The second year we were on vacation, so, bah humbug.

This year we are officially not Scrooges.

Feel free to post links to your Christmas decor pics or just leave me a little message to let me know if you've been naughty or nice.