I've been up to...

....taking Audrey to the Nutcracker.  It was her first time this year, a present for both of us.  I got really good seats, and we went on the 26th.  I held her on my hip and we looked down into the orchestra pit before things got started.  The ballet itself was amazing--the entire thing was like a painting come to life.  We were very close and could see quite a lot of details, and I was dazzled by how the dancers made it all look so effortless.  At intermission, Audrey said to me, "Mommy, that is just like the Nutcracker I saw on tv."  "Where?"  I asked.  "The Tom and Jerry one,"  she replied.  Fabulous.  My kids are getting culture from cartoons.  I remember that Tom and Jerry, so I chuckled.  She then said, as her face lit up, that she would like to learn to dance too.  Is there ever a little girl that doesn't want to be a ballerina at five?  At ten?  I know I did.  It's a long story, but there is a horrifically embarrassing picture my Mom has/had (hopefully lost or burned) of the chubbiest ballerina ever.  

....finally, finally, polishing off the last of the giant plate of almond toffee Jane so graciously made me (speaking of chubby).  I came out of the candy coma just last weekend.

....serving as the iPod gatekeeper for the entire tribe.  Ben got a new one as a late, late birthday present from my Dad a few months back.   It started a revolution.  As everyone knows,  I love my iPod.   Even when I was mocked by one of my son's friends, "Oh, look, how cute, you don't even have color" as he pointed to my screen (he may as well have said, "Oh, look, you guys still have an outhouse") I didn't falter in my affections.  Until I held Ben's in my hand, and watched some videos on it...and the coveting began.  I figured that I might get one on down the road, you know, break down for the newer model, the knee-weakening swoon-worthy version of my dreams...but I put that thought on the back burner, as old reliable still worked well, and let's not be frivolous, Anna.  We decided to get Nolan a new one, like Ben's, and give Nolan's old one to Ryan, hey, everyone's happy, right?  However, as always, Mr W knows his girl, and he surprised me with an iPod Touch for Christmas.  *swoon*  It's fantastic.  I love it as much as my old reliable one, which I still use, on occasion.  But the Touch has me seduced by its smooth screen, its lovely graphics, and the hot pink case he got me for it.   If someone had told me even a year ago that I would be able to watch Top Gun and the 300 in the palm of my hand, I would never have believed them.  And yet I have.  Watched Top Gun.  Thank you, Levi Strauss and Hanes.  White tshirts, jeans, and sand never looked so good.   Big screen, small screen--size really doesn't matter. :p

....realized the trauma that is coming up this year, as not only do I stare 40 right in the face, but in a couple of weeks, I have to start the process of picking the high school that Nolan will attend.   And fill out papers for Ben to go to jr high.  "I am not old enough to have a child in high school,"  I lamented to Mr W this morning.  "Weren't we just there ourselves??"  I smiled at the thought of a 17 year old Mr W, and I was inwardly pleased--and a little horrified--that he at least can conjure up an image of what things were like when they were in their original starting positions. Yet when I point this out, he still has the grace to pat my ass and assure me, sincerely, that everything is, still, in the right place.   

....laughing out loud at Audrey.  She got this giant paper doll as a gift from my brother and it has magnetic clothes you stick on it.  (I stuck the magnets on the flippin' thing myself, some assembly required, of course.)  I came into the room the other day in time to see the fully dressed Barbie being pummelled by small items as her brothers were knocking the clothes off (Barbie is not naked--she's painted underneath, so it's not that angle, thank God).  "Stop!"  I urged them, only to find out that Audrey dresses the Barbie for expressly that purpose, and helps bomb the clothes right off her.  Nice.  I know.  I know.  Oy.  

....discovering that red lipstick is a commitment.  Again, Mr W strikes gold with the "guideline" list I sent him to the MAC counter with, as he is the king of the cosmetic stocking stuffer.  I like what he got, particularly when he told me, and this is so awesome I almost jumped him on the spot, that the makeup counter chick was putting the colors I picked on her arm, and he made his decision based on the way they looked and me.  I don't care if she was the hottest chick he's ever seen in his life, and he really picked it based on the shade of her cleavage, he made good choices and told a good story.  That alone is worth the commitment of checking it and reapplying it. 

On that note...

Oh!  Note...

Speaking of note...

Ben plays trombone, but he really wanted to learn trumpet, and he just let that cat out of the bag at the beginning of the school year.  He's a good kid, and wants to please everyone, so when the band teacher talked him into trombone last year, he went with it; and when he finally told me this year what happened, he said he'd stick with it.  But he's been dropping hints and asking, and asking, and so I finally offered to rent him a trumpet too, as long as he understood that he'd probably need private lessons to get up to speed and if he was willing to practice and be responsible about it, we'd spring for that, too.  Yesterday, I finally got around to renting it and setting him up for lessons (Thursday is his first one).   I figure there's nothing wrong with learning more than one instrument, he enjoys it, why not?

I was leaving work today, and stopped to say hi/bye to one of my friends.  She invited me out to dinner on Thursday night, at 6.  I said I could come, but suddenly it dawned on me that I couldn't, so I apologized and said I wouldn't be able to make it.  I explained Ben's situation, and that he would be starting his first lesson...Thursday at 6.  

"Your son is going to be a good kisser!" she exclaimed.   "What?"  I responded.  "Oh, trumpet players make the best kissers,"  she gushed, sighing, grinning, "it's all about how they have to use their lips and their tongue,"  she went on, as I held out a hand and fanned my face, "You're making me blush,"  I said, and it's true, my face just burned, as she joked, "Well, I guess you wouldn't want to think that, not about your own son,"  she giggled.  "Um, no,"  I giggled back ---at just that moment, one of our cuter coworkers walked by, and I didn't think it was possible, but I blushed again, more severely, that's lovely...

And it appears I am not staring 40 in the face, but 14.