White Christmas (Weekend)

We moved to the beach a little over three years ago.  In our time here, we've experienced no hurricanes and three snows with accumulation.  There are others who would complain, but this works for me.

We didn't have a white Christmas, but we woke up to very cold rain the morning after Christmas.  By 8:00 there was snow mixed in the rain and by 9:00 there was heavy snow coming down.  The kids spent a lot of time kneeling on the couch, looking out the windows into the backyard.  Of course they did not pose for any adorable photos this time!

We had precipitation nearly all day, and by evening, there was a decent dusting of snow on the grass.  The roads were dry, though, so on Sunday night we finally took the kids out to look at Christmas lights in the neighborhood.  There were a lot of dark houses, but the kids enjoyed the lights they did see.  I had to giggle when Leon was the first to point and wave at one house, shouting, "Mickey Mouse!  Mickey Mouse!" when he spied a giant inflatable Mickey dressed as Santa.  Michael is our Mickey Mouse buff, and he seemed to take it in his stride.

The dogs got a little extra outside time in the snow, just because we are mean like that.  Max saw it as true torture.  Pru was more carefully optimistic.  She loves snow, but I think she also knows it doesn't last around here.

Merry Christmas!

We've enjoyed a lovely Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.  How that happened, we'll never know.  (It's a Festivus miracle!)  But here are a few pics from our fun.  I hope yours was just as wonderful!

Cookies!

With the icing and sprinkles, these cookies were taller than they were wide.  We can only hope Santa isn't diabetic.

 Presents!

Ree took a turn behind the camera...

...with "interesting" results.

 The Aftermath

Outside!

The bambina was not forgotten.  That is one gigantic shadow!

Petite Diplomat

Last night Jeff and I sat down and finally wrapped presents.  As with most things, we were totally unprepared and decided to wing it, and things turned out relatively okay.  In this case, rather than purchasing gift wrap this year, I decided to just use up what we had, which was a decent assortment of started rolls of wrapping paper and gift bags left from prior years.  I just underestimated the number and physical size of some of the presents for the kids.  (Don't get me wrong.  We are still incredibly cheap and aren't into going overboard for Christmas.  The kids are each getting one gift from Santa and one gift from us.  But we also have wrapping duty for presents from the extended family, and there are quite a few people who love our little snotty monsters.)  Anyway our, um, eco-friendly frugalness resulted in some rather creatively covered packages as wrapping paper was pieced together to cover them.  Jeff had wrapping duty while I did the embellishing and tagging.  As he handed me one of the crazy looking parcels, he mentioned that earlier this week Ree had watched him wrapping presents for me.  She studied his work for a minute and then said as gently as she could, without a trace of sarcasm in her voice, "I didn't know you could wrap presents like THAT."  As he finished, he inquired if the package looked good.  She replied with far more tact than one would expect from a four-year-old, "It's...interesting."

Saturday

So to continue with my weekend rambling...

After the kids went to bed on Friday night, I had planned to get Christmas presents ready for mailing since I was running out of time to get presents to extended family members before Christmas.  Unfortunately, I did not plan on Michael getting the flu on Friday.  And Michael is just, um, annoying needy when he is sick.  I don't know if he has a low threshold for pain or if his body is just super sensitive (he did run at least a 103 degree temp EVERY TIME he cut a tooth), but when he doesn't feel well, he pretty much requires one-on-one attention around the clock.

I knew this, but I still tried to get stuff done.  Silly me.  By 10:00, after having spent more of my evening holding Michael than boxing and bubble wrapping, I decided to call it a night and get some rest while I could.  I love it when I actually have these moments of clarity!  I relaxed, read, and headed off to sleep.

It wasn't a fabulous night, but it was much better than expected.  Michael slept in hour long stretches, which is phenomenal for him when he is sick.  He's often up every 20-30 minutes.  We even had a two hour stretch of sleep.  And despite the fever and the fact that he was miserable, he still had the best manners.  (No idea where they came from, but  I will enjoy them while they last!)  Each time I tucked him back in, I gave him water.  And each time he would briefly perk up to say, "Thanks, Mom!"  It was adorable.  Even at 3:15 in the morning.

I had planned to get up uber-early on Saturday to take care of the presents before the kids woke up, but I had another insightful moment in the wee hours of Saturday where I remembered the kids have crazy bat-like hearing and would be up the second they heard me moving around.  So I scrapped that plan and slept til 7:00.  But that meant I was going to have to try to work on a project with the kids up. 

That turned out okay too.  For some reason, they actually let me work for over an hour, with Leon only turning into monkey boy at the end.  Ree sat at the table and ate breakfast while I worked.  My favorite moment of the weekend was when she read a book to Michael so I could keep working.  I have no idea if she had memorized the sight words in the book or she had memorized the book itself, but she read Dinosaur, Danger! to Michael, and they were both blissfully happy with the situation.

Then it was time to actually go to the post office.  On the last Saturday before Christmas.  With six packages to mail.  I had expected the line to be long.  I hadn't expected there to be a good 20 - 30 people in front of me.  Nor had I expected there to be only two counters open.  But I miraculously thought to bring a book with me (I'm currently lacking in techie gadgets, so no entertaining myself that way.  And I am absolutely no good at just waiting), so I got some reading done.  And I was surrounded by the nicest people ever in line who went out of their way to help me with my packages.  The line actually moved pretty steadily, and after about 35 minutes, it was time for the lady in front of me to go to the counter.  She actually let me go first so she could help carry my packages.  She was so dang nice I almost hugged her.

As I was leaving the post office, I realized that the zip code on the receipt for one of the packages was wrong, so I went back inside to talk to the clerk so the right bar code would go on the package.  She was really nice about it, was joking and apologetic, and fixed it right then.  Huh.

After that I had to head to Barnes and Noble at Mayfaire, which is one of those big outdoor shopping centers.  Doom!  But it occurred to me that I had a Chick-Fil-A gift card just sitting in my wallet, so I headed there first.  And rather than just grabbing food to go, I decided to sit there, enjoy my peppermint milkshake and read some more of my book.  And, as always, the staff there was fabulous.

Feeling totally refreshed, I was ready to actually venture to the bookstore, where I needed to pick up a book I ordered.  Because I was coming from lunch, I actually went in the back way, and I discovered a parking lot I had never seen before - and it had parking spaces - and it was halfway between Barnes and Noble and my next stop.  Weirdly, I wasn't getting freaked out by how things were falling into place.  It was more of a felix felicis kinda thing.  I just knew what to do.

As I was walking to the store I realized I needed to use the restroom because all of that peppermint and chocolate yumminess was making someone use my bladder as a trampoline.  It was raining, and I was mostly looking down to avoid puddles, but I happened to glance up and see a sign for a public restroom.  Um, okay.  Went in and discovered it was totally clean and safe, if somewhat hidden.  Who knew.

Got to the bookstore and had no idea where to go to pick up the book.  Looked up and saw an employee.  Ask her, and she said I needed to go to the counter.  Then she volunteered to get the book for me.  She ask if I wanted to look through it first, and I told her no, I would definitely be purchasing Stop That Pickle (Michael is obsessed with the book), so she offered to ring it up for me.  I totally avoided the line snaking through the ropes and stepped up to the register closest to the door where she was working.  She rang me up and I was on my way.  It occurred to me that I forgot to use my coupon for 15% off, but I was okay with that.

I stopped at the car to put that book away, and headed to a sushi restaurant to get Jeff lunch.  I had a great experience there too.  It was weird.  But nice.

Last Friday

I don't know if I just had exceedingly low expectations, if I somehow morphed into a "glass half full" type of person, or people just took pity on the short woman with the belly the size of a double-wide trailer, but everything I did over the weekend went better than expected.

On Friday, I aided at Ree's preschool.  When I signed up for this back in September, I had no idea it was the last day of preschool before Christmas and the big holiday party.  When I found out, I had visions of kids bouncing off the walls.  What's worse, when I got to school, I found out the party was an hour later than was originally planned, which meant the kids were going to have nearly a full day of school (9:00 - 12:30) before the party.  Yikes.  I was just hoping to survive.

But it turns out, the kids were great. They did have a lot of energy, but the teachers were still able to redirect them when they (quickly) grew bored of each activity.

But even more worrisome to my lazy, pregnant self was what would happen after the party.  The school is called Parents Community Preschool, and the title actually is self-explanatory.  It is a Montessori-style school based on around the theory that parents, as a community, run the school.  This creates a great environment, and it keeps tuition costs really low.  This also means the only employees are the two teachers, so when parents aide, which every family does at least six times per year, there is quite a bit to do.  The aide sets up in the classroom in the morning, serves as principal and secretary throughout the day, plans and leads one of the activities for centers, and serves as the cook and custodian.  For me, working with kids is great.  It's the custodial duties that are killer.  It's nothing insanely strenuous.  It's wiping down tables, chairs, and cabinets; sweeping, mopping, and vacuuming floors; cleaning the bathroom; taking out trash, recycling, and compost; and picking up the school and playground.  It's just time consuming, and a lot to do after spending four hours with the kiddos.  And when I heard the party had been pushed back an hour, I feared I would never leave.

The parents take the community thing seriously, and after a regular day of school, there are typically kids playing on the playground while their moms chat for a good hour after the school day ends.  And in playing that long someone always has a potty emergency (and those someones also always seem to have the dirtiest shoes) and they need to come back in to school, usually right after I finish cleaning the floors and bathroom.  I figured the whole party atmosphere, not to mention a day with a high in the 50s after having highs in the 30s all week, would lead to even more lingering than usual.

And it may have happened, but I never knew.  A whole team of moms assembled and began helping me clean.  We were still there until 2:45, but the school was REALLY clean.  Definitely the cleanest it had ever been on my watch.  And I got to move at a merciful snail's pace the entire time.  That experience was definitely better than expected.  And that was just the beginning of the weekend.

Yes, the rambling is to be continued...

Fly!

Last Monday I woke up and didn't want to go to work.  It was more than a case of the Mondays.  I was feeling overwhelmed and just wanted a day to knock out all the Christmas-related errand running.  I am also lucky in that I have a fabulous boss and a flexible work schedule, so I even had the possibility of just working a half day from home on Monday and making up the time on Friday.  (I usually do it the other way around.)  Unfortunately, we were already booked for Friday, so I drug myself to work.

Tuesday I woke up and I still didn't want to go to work.  And I was feeling nauseous as an added bonus.  Still, I made myself go to work (I'm saving what little sick and vacation time I have to cover my time off for maternity leave, and I don't want to use them unless I really, really have to), and by 9:00 a.m. I was feeling like a functional human being.

Wednesday morning I woke up really and truly sick with a stomach bug.  I think it was my body's way of forcing me to take some time off.  The morning was rough, but once my stomach settled down, it was actually a decent day.  I hid in the bedroom and did actually work a half day, and I read most of a novel too.

But I didn't learn.  I felt run down the rest of the week, and by Sunday morning I was nice and sick again.  As I was sitting on the bathroom floor thinking I should've at least had a crazy night out that involved tequila shots to be so miserable, it occurred to me that I needed to stop.  Christmas would happen when it happened.  Santa had already confirmed his visit to our house, complete with stocking stuffers, and Ree and I had agreed on an easy coffee cake recipe for Christmas morning.  (Well, actually, we're still debating.  I want a honey bun cake with pecans and she wants a peach thing that looks like a dessert pizza.  We'll see who wins in the end.)  But I realized, do we really need anything more than Santa and breakfast pastries to have a good holiday?

So I took the day to actually enjoy the season with my kids.  Crazy, huh?  We had fun.  I looked at the newspaper ads with Ree and realized we both like shiny and sparkly things.  (Probably no big surprise there.)  Ree and I also made Christmas cards.  We didn't get too many done, but it was a fun process.  I sat with Leon and Michael while they colored pictures of Charlie Brown and Snoopy from a new Christmas coloring book.  Actually, Leon colored, and Michael talked.  All Michael ever does is talk.  I actually had a few minutes to myself, and was in the middle of looking at an ad for World Market, totally amazed that the front page featured a set of Russian Leaders Vodka Shooters, when I realized Michael had stopped with his stream of consciousness babble and was actually addressing me.

Michael: Hep!  Hep!  (That would be "Help! Help!" in regular English.)
Me: Do you need help?
Michael: Hep wall!
Me: You need help with the wall?
Michael: Reach top.
Me: You want to reach the top of the wall?

Michael then starts frantically waving his arms over his head indicating that is EXACTLY what he wants to do.  I check out the wall.  It is divider between the kitchen and dining area.  It runs floor to ceiling.  It's about four feet wide.  There is a framed picture in the middle of it.  Otherwise, it is a pretty boring wall.  There is nothing I could see of interest near the ceiling.

Me: Mikey, we can't reach the top of the wall.  It's too tall.
Michael: Wall too tall?
Me: Yeah, I'm sorry.  We just aren't big enough to reach up there.

Michael stops to think for a second.

Michael: FLY!
Me: No, sweetie.  We can't fly there.  People can't fly.  Just birds.

He spends a few seconds flapping his arms trying to fly anyway.  All the arm swinging makes him think.  Arm swinging is what he does when he tries to jump.  So he starts working on jumping to reach the top of the wall.  Unfortunately, he hasn't quite mastered the leaving the ground thing, so it's mostly a lot of grunting, arm swinging, and standing on tiptoes.  I can't help but just stare at him throughout this process.  Finally, he wanders off.  And it occurs to me that wow, I just had this conversation with a sober person.

Do Good Things and Good Things Happen

I really enjoy volunteering and helping people, I just seem to be short on time and motivation these days.  So I love it when I find ways to feel like I am bettering the world (at least a little) but can be totally lazy about it.

I joined MomsRising a couple of years ago.  It's a fabulous bipartisan organization that is working to build a more family-friendly country.  They focus on topics impacting moms, children, and families, and basic involvement is simple.  They send out emails on hot topics, which are often items in pending legislation.  If, after reading the summary, you want to take action, you click on a link and it sends letters to the appropriate state and federal officials.  If you want to learn more, there are links for that too.  So simple.

Yesterday, I learned about another site that helps you improve the world (at least an itty-bitty bit) in 30 seconds or less.  Xerox is sponsoring a site called Let's Say Thanks.  The website gives you the opportunity to send a free printed postcard to U.S. military personnel stationed overseas.  You pick a design, enter a message, and add your name and hometown.  Xerox prints it and sends it to someone.  No providing your email address or contact information.  Just an easy way to say thanks.

Yesterday must have just been a help people day in general, because one of my favorite blogs also had information on helping others.  Cake Wrecks, a blog featuring professional cakes gone oh-so-wrong, began their second annual Christmas Charity Countdown.  The premise is simple.  Small gifts add up, so they ask readers who want to participate to give a $1 a day to charity for 12 days.  That's it.  A buck.  Yesterday's charity, Give Kids the World, has already received $3,137 just from readers contributing.  Today's charity, Doctors Without Borders, has raised $1,925 from loyal wreckerators so far.  It's nice to know I'm not the only person who wants to make the world a better place.  Or that there are innovative people willing to help us do so easily.

Away in a Manger

Sunday morning Jeff and I headed out to the garage to get the Christmas decorations while the kids ate breakfast.  We keep the decorations in plastic tubs on overhead shelves, and it's just easier to get them down when we don't have an audience of toddlers, preschoolers, and dogs around to "help."

Leon watched, his eyes growing wider and wider, as we brought the tubs into the house.  The kid was squirming with anticipation as he sat in his booster seat.  There were new latches to master and so many potential goodies inside.  It was a Leon dream come true!

I can't remember if I even attempted to flat out tell him "no."  Whatever happened, it wasn't long before I said, "These are Mommy's boxes and THIS is Leon, Michael, and Ree's box," and I handed him the box with our nativity set.

We happen to have a Little People nativity set, and I just love the dang thing.  I am a dork and think it is the cutest thing in the world.  I may actually enjoy playing with it more than the kids do.  I also love that Little People are virtually indestructible (so far) and the dogs understand that they are neither treats nor chew toys (so far). 

While I cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast, I heard Leon busily playing in the sunroom.  Since everything is an ingredient to Leon, I figured he was stirring the poor shepherds and sheep in a bowl and calling it "soup."  Much to my surprise, as I walked out to the living room, I found the people and critters scattered all over the floor.  Baby Jesus was face down on the rug with the manger still stuck to his back.  (Must resist the urge to add a "plight of the Jews" joke here.)  But the stable was missing.

I found the stable sitting on the kids' train table in the sunroom.  It was void of living creatures.  Instead, it was filled with little Tonka trucks.  The stable had become a garage.  I can only imagine the angel on the roof was the parking attendant.

Norman Rockwell, Eat Your Heart Out

 

I love this picture Jeff took of the kids last week.  With a bit of editing, it could be totally Christmas card worthy with a nice "Waiting for Santa" caption.  As it is, it captures the suburban reality of "watching the garbage man."

They Start Young

Not too surprisingly, the Bengals game was not on TV locally last Sunday, so while Jeff went to a neighborhood bar to watch it, I gamecasted it on the computer while Ree and I decorated for Christmas.

For those of you not familiar with gamecasting, it pretty much involves watching arrows representing the teams move back and forth on a drawing of a football field.  Not exactly an HD broadcast.  Still, somehow, when Michael woke up from his nap, he saw the computer and immediately exclaimed, "Football!"  Um, yeah.  At one point he apparently noticed the arrows moving fast or something, because we had the following conversation.

Michael: (Excitedly) Touchdown Bengals?
Me: No, not touchdown Bengals.  The other team scored.  Touchdown Saints.
Michael: (Pausing to think and then sadly) I'm sorry, Daddy.
Me: Yeah, I bet Daddy is sorry too.

The Great Christmas Tree Disaster of 2010

Last night I made perfect peppermint frosting.  Seriously.  It was phenomenal.  I think it was my redemption moment for the evening.  For the boys' birthdays, I made bright yellow and blue cakes shaped like Legos, and I had frozen the leftover frosting for an emergency dessert moment.  (Hey, mock me if you will, but these moments obviously happen to me.)  I thawed the two cans of frosting, and when I combined them, they actually blended into a lovely shade of light green.  (Purists be damned.  Mint things need to be green.)  Then I slowly added peppermint extract and the result was amazing.  Peppermint frosting, made from the canned stuff, that wasn't overwhelming in mint flavor and didn't taste like chemicals.  Tonight it will be added to a pan of brownies that didn't work out quite right.  I tried a sample frosted brownie last night, and the result was heavenly.  Not only great frosting, but totally salvaged brownies.  Some melted chocolate might be drizzled over the top as an added bonus.
 
I call the frosting creation my redemption moment because the afternoon was marked by the Great Christmas Tree Disaster of 2010.  (I'm a realist.  I am a totally klutz.  We have two dogs and 3.34 kids.  I know we are not done with Christmas tree disasters.  I am just hoping this is the only one in 2010.)  In short, yesterday we learned that glass Christmas ornament balls and ceramic floors don't mix.

In the ten years that Jeff and I have been together, we have never had a full-sized Christmas tree.  I briefly contemplated purchasing one this year, then I realized that Leon would just spend the holidays trying to scale the thing.  Next year is probably out since we will have a ten-ish month old, but maybe the next year.  Last year, since the boys were busy pulling up on things, in lieu of having any sort of Christmas tree at child height, we put out what we refer to as the Christmas tree village on our bar.  It is collection of three little artificial Christmas trees that individually each look like Charlie Brown Christmas trees, but when lit and decorated, you can practically hear Linus saying, "I never thought it was such a bad little tree. It's not bad at all, really."  But, as "not bad" as they may be, I really liked the idea of having a tree that the kids could sit around and find presents under, and we have also have a four-foot tall fake tree that I acquired my first Christmas out of college.  I figured it was low enough that Leon wouldn't see it as a new jungle gym and felt sure the kids could handle having it out in our living room.  I didn't know that our floors were plotting against us.

Yesterday while the boys were napping and Jeff was busy watching the Bengals, Ree and I decided to put up the tree.  She did a fabulous job of entertaining herself by emptying out the plastic bins of Christmas stuff and reading all the Christmas books while I put it together.  Then I went to put on the lights and realized that the only Christmas lights we had were a strand of all purple lights leftover from my college days and a monstrously long strand of colored lights we used to outline our entire garage last year.  Neither was quite what I was looking for, but amazingly, Ree and I happened to stop at Target on Friday afternoon and we happened to browse the Christmas section and we happened to pick up a set of retro globe lights.  Perfect.  I put them on, and while the tree was a bit dark, I figured it would look better with ornaments, and I could always add other lights later.

Then it was time to decorate.  Ree was very excited, and she and I started hanging ornaments.  About three ornaments in, Ree accidentally dropped a snow globe ornament.  It only fell about six inches, but it shattered.  She was okay with it, and while warning bells were starting to go off, I just cleaned it up without too much thought.  Although we normally put the tree skirt on last, I went ahead and put it around the tree, with a fleece blanket under it for extra padding, just in case of other ornament disasters.  Thankfully, we got through the tree trimming without any of those, and we even finished before Leon and Michael woke up from naps.

When the boys woke up, they were very excited about seeing all the Christmas stuff.  Since I hadn't cleaned up yet, Leon was especially excited to see all the bins with their lids off, and he busily ran around the living room putting all of the sorted decorations back into the bins and slamming the lids on.  (Ahh, my little "helper".)  The boys and I had a chat that the tree was for looking at, not for touching, and they seemed pretty respectful.  Michael walked around it, naming every ornament, with his hands neatly clasped behind his back in parade rest.  Leon wasn't quite so respectful, but he at least limited himself to poking at ornaments rather than pulling them off the tree.

Then dinner time rolled around.  I'm not sure who or what was the cause, but I suddenly found myself having to abandon my lo mein to clean up a Bengals ornament ball that had shattered in the middle of the living room.  It wasn't too much later that I heard Michael delightfully exclaim, "Ball!  Then I heard the tinkling sound of another ornament crumbling upon impact with the floor.  Michael was remorseful, and I was contemplative.  Had he really learned his lesson?  Could this work?  And I felt bad undoing all of Ree's hard work.  Since we have been married, each year I have made ornaments for everyone in our family.  Ree, a chip off the ol' block and a true math geek, had made it a point to find each year's set and arrange them together on the tree.  She must've read my mind, because that's when she spoke up and said, "Mom, maybe we should just put up the little trees up high."  The kid was so right.


So while the kids ate dinner, I went to the garage, got out the other trees, and started setting them up on the bar in a back corner of our dining room.  I also made the kids stay in their seats a little longer than they needed to so I could transfer most of the ornaments to the tree village.  Shortly after dinner, I once again heard Michael say, "Ball!" and then heard the distinctive sound of another ornament shattering.  And I, again, found a remorseful Michael.  Apparently he either forgot the incident before dinner or figured it couldn't possibly happy again.  But at least I knew we really needed to limit Christmas decorations to those at least four feet in the air.  The kids clearly aren't ready for a tree at their level.

After the kids went to bed, I finished decorating the tree village and put away the additional ornaments from the other tree.  Just as I was finishing, I too dropped an ornament, and it shattered.  Doh!  Apparently I too am not ready for a tree at my level.

So after I got that mess squared away, I made the peppermint frosting.  And when all was said and done, and I was munching on my delightful dessert, the little Christmas tree village looked nice.  And the lessons for the day are, when in doubt, head to the kitchen.  Also, install wrestling mats throughout the living area before putting up a Christmas tree.  Either that, or only use Kevlar ornaments.

From The Baby Blues Archive

Me, Me, Me

So about three weeks ago I was plodding along, minding my own business, when Ka-Blammo!  My body decided to tell me in no uncertain terms that I had reached the third trimester of this pregnancy.  I am lucky and have gotten through many years on few hours of sleep each day, catching up on sleep in the years in which life is a little less insane.  (Yes, I know normal people catch up on weekends, and I'm weird.  Does this really surprise you?)  I've been scraping by on 6.5 hours a night since Leon and Michael have been born, but my body is now scoffing at that.  Nope, I need more sleep, at least on the weekends.  And since the kids prefer to get up earlier than usual on the weekends and sleep "in" during the week, that means I now have to nap (read: I pass out randomly) on more weekend days than not.  (The good news - the kids have actually been sleeping or at least staying in bed until 7:00 a.m. most week day mornings lately.)  And the hormones!  Holy cow, the hormones!  I've had mood swings this whole pregnancy, but the crazy, angry pregnant lady is leaking out more and more.  I am fairly good at repressing her at work (as the breadwinner in the family, remaining employed is kinda important), but then I take it out on my whole family by being mean wife and mean mommy with no patience.

Right after a good workout (have you ever seen a woman who's 30 weeks pregnant workout?  I almost wish I could see myself.  It has to be hilarious!) when the crazy is somewhat at bay, I can put it in perspective.  At any time I can recognize that I have much easier pregnancies than many women, but in those moments of exhaustion and a clear head, I can also be grateful that my body gave me a free pass to enjoy "regular" life for a good seven months even while pregnant again.  But the rest of the time, it's hard not to be at least a little annoyed that my body would just have to finally succumb to pregnant madness during the holidays.  As though there isn't enough crap to do, I now have to stop to take care of me and this hyper little being (and wow is this one a wiggler!) in my belly?  For real?

So this year, more than ever, I am working to find balance during the holidays.  I'll let you know how that all works out.