My roundup

Boy, time flies.  Every night, I'd settle the kids down, and tell myself I'd be able to write.  In five more minutes.  One more thing to do.  Maybe I'll sit down.  zzzzzzz....maybe tomorrow. 

Here I am, quite a few tomorrows later. 

Today, it's Nolan's birthday.   I still am amazed how each Christmas season, I focus on getting to the 25th, then am smacked in the face by his birthday right after.  He's twelve today, one step closer to the magic teendom he is so eager to reach.  I don't have the heart to break it to him that 'magic teendom' is not always quite so magical.  Nope, he can find that one out for himself.  What do parents really know, anyway?

He's a great kid, and I love him with a ferocity that scares me sometimes.  It's almost as much fun watching his emerging growing personality as it was watching him learn to walk.

Apparently, I wasn't on the naughty list, not that I didn't try hard to make the cut.  Mr. W strikes again, and if he keeps this up, I'm afraid to see what I might find under the tree next year.  He got me a digital camera, a really, really nice one.  I'm still figuring out how to use it, but it's fantastic.  Hmm.  Maybe being on the nice list isn't so bad afterall.

The big ape still makes me cry.   We took the kids to see 'King Kong' on Monday night.  Great effects, and entertaining, considering it's hardly a new story.   Audrey squirmed a bit, and I squirmed alot (during the bug scene)...and I got to look over and see my favorite sight, three perfect little profiles, so into the screen they didn't notice me looking.  Audrey went and crawled into Ben's lap at one point, and I got my Mommy-bliss moment, popcorn included.  And yes, I cried when Kong dies.  I always do.  Sucker.

My kids still believe in Santa.  Really.  I am so totally jazzed by that, I can't even tell you.  Nolan has been skeptical as of late, but we did the Norad-Santa-tracker thing on Christmas Eve, and the little bodies couldn't find their way to bed quick enough.  Cool! :D

I'm banning myself from any more Martha-induced insanity.  You heard it here first, I'm gonna just say NO.  (I know one person who won't believe that till he sees it, but really, Remo, I mean it.)  Mr. W, last Christmas, asked me at the last minute to provide a little gift for 13 people.  On the same day.  Like the 23rd, I believe.   So this year, I decided to head him off at the pass, and asked him in October if we were playing that game again this year.  He was noncommittal, but I started thinking...and since Jane makes it look so easy, I decided to do the toffee-almond-roca thing she makes...for fourteen people.  Piece of cake.   Almonds, butter, chocolate bars, walnuts, sugar...ten minutes of stir, stir, stir, and voila! what's so hard about that? Hmm.  Let me tell you:

Batch one:  I can do this.  It's great.  It's easy. 

Batch two:  Not bad.  At this rate, I will be done in no time.  (Which is a good thing as Mr W is wondering when I'll be done.)

Batch three:  Maybe I should put some cookies in these tins too, so I don't have to make so much candy.

A massive cookie effort is undertaken.  But I'm still trying to wrap up the Christmas shopping, and am making a yet another trip to the pediatrician with <insert kid's name>.  So I've gotten some sugar cookies made, okay, some edges a bit too brown; and Mexican wedding cookies made (powdered sugar everywhere) and some seven-layer bars made(hey, these are better than last year--seeing as how I didn't misread the recipe). 

No.  This isn't gonna work.  Let's see how the toffee looks in the tins I bought...okay, not too full, but okay.  I show Mr W.  He tells me to go with it, and not to put cookies in there too. 

I go out on a limb, and fill all the tins...all of them except one. 

Batch four:  What the hell was I thinking?  ::stir, stir:: 

Next year, it's store bought.  Only my friends will get the homemade goodies, as it should be.  Right now, I don't have the energy to finish that, and lots of cookies looking for a belly to fill, preferably not my own. 

Speaking of bellies, I'm not running.  I am infinitely irritated with myself at the moment.  It's a long story, but it all comes down to time.  No time.  Which is also irritating, because I read an article about a woman with four kids who runs marathons.  She gets up at 4:30 am, you see, to hit the streets while her kids sleep.  So, I guess it's a motivation thing for me.  Get up at 4:30 am, to go out before Mr W goes to work, ,or go out at 8 or 9 pm, once all are settled for the evening and Daddy's home.  Or try to run with the toddler in tow, in her stroller, while she complains about the CD player falling off her ears and I stop every ten feet to help her out.  Yeah,  that's enjoyable.  Looks like I'll be turning to the gym.  Sometime.  Either way, no PF Changs Rock-n-Roll 1/2 Marathon for me this year.   Nothing like setting a goal and then falling flat on my face to make my day. 

My bitterness about that aside, we had a good Christmas.  I finished up the tins tonight, and made little tags for them.  Not because I felt a handmade tag would add to the charm of the gift and container, but because I couldn't find any more gift tags in with our wrapping stuff, and really, I can't stomach another trip to Target right now.  

I hope I spelled all their names right.  ;p