My imac is dead. Again.

Enough said. This means that posting is more difficult because when John comes home, he's on his laptop. My warranty expired as well. This is only the, what, third time my imac has crashed? And it crashes each and every time I try and install new security updates. Quality with a capital "K." [sigh]

"Trumpets?! Standing on chairs?! Waffles?!"

Do you ever get tired of seeing commercials about women feeding their family? Then you need to see this video.

John tipped me off to these. Sarah Hawkins (the ... well ... "host" for lack of a better word) parodies the sexist commercials that target women. These shorts are great! :-)

If you want to see more, head here.

Troubles with Heat

I wanted to take a picture so people could see exactly what our heating unit looks like. Keep in mind we've had no snow or ice here. Our neighbors haven't had problems like this with their unit. Of course, if we had ours placed in an area where it could actually receive sunlight. [sigh]

Our landlord seemed a little pissed off at the company for not bringing someone out to the house today. John and I were told to run emergency heat non-stop or it could cause damage to the unit (if it's not damaged already). Hopefully someone should come out tomorrow morning to take a look at (and fix) our contemporary and classy ice sculpture. ;-)

Our mortgage paperwork is finally on its way to our lender! We finished signing everything on Saturday, but had to wait until today to drop it off at a UPS place. I was hoping to do this with Eric this morning. I needed to pick up a prescription, and I was hoping to drive to the nearest UPS store and find a drop box outside and be done with it. But nothing is ever that simple. I drove to the store and found no drop box. I parked my car right in front of the store because it had just warmed up. It's freezing here; we're under a wind advisory with gusts up to 40 mph. It's miserable. And with Eric being sick, I didn't want to park the car a mile away and have to walk with a baby all the way to the store.

When I didn't see a drop box outside, I quickly went in (bad mommy, I know, leaving my kid in the car but the alternative sucked as well) to see if there was a drop box inside. I didn't see one. I did see a long line of people waiting to mail their last minute Christmas gifts, however. So, I got back in the car, threw a minor fit, and decided to call UPS to come and pick up the stupid thing. Honestly, no drop box??!! It's like going to the post office and seeing no bloody mailbox! I actually saw a UPS truck on the Reston parkway while heading to the pharmacy. I should have driven it off the road and thrown the package in the back of the truck.

From the world of "Eric's Gone Mad-" Eric slept in until... 9:45am today! Holy crap. He has never slept so long before. When John and I got back from dinner last night, Mariko told us that Eric went down at 9:15pm which is late but not unreasonable considering his crazy nap schedule as of late. Imagine my surprise to actually wake up before the baby! It's now just after 5pm, and I think Eric may FINALLY be going down for a nap. He didn't nap much, if at all, this morning. Good grief, kid- NAP for heaven's sake!

I'm currently doing laundry. Tomorrow I hope to finish packing. We leave sometime tomorrow evening for my parents house in Charlottesville. I'm excited to be spending Christmas with my family, especially since they love to watch Eric. Maybe John and I can get some one-on-one time together, for which we will be in serious deficit once number 2 arrives.

Speaking of which... I tried to redo the poll with the baby names because I forgot to put in a dark horse option: Katherine. No middle name. We thought it was kind of long, and I like this name better than John. John hates Kate. I like Kate. But anyway... I didn't want to delete the poll yet again only to put that name on there, but let me know if you like it. Sadly, we had this much trouble coming up with Eric's name, too. It's a good thing we're not having a third. :-)

Bittersweet

Today my best friend Mariko came over with her boyfriend John Lewis to open gifts and celebrate the holidays. She just flew in from Bolivia last night. And today I am deeply in her debt.

This morning, right after we put a feverish Eric down for his morning nap, my cell rang. It was Laurie, a friend of ours who was going to babysit tonight for my FIL's birthday dinner. My in-laws had changed the reservation day once already in order to accommodate our getting a sitter. Laurie was in tears because she had sprained her ankle and couldn't come. Plus, she didn't know how she was going to drive home for the holidays. Poor thing...

So we started making calls and everyone was busy. God bless Mariko and Lewis! They volunteered to babysit for us. I'm grateful to them and grateful that Eric was no longer sick by the time we left. I wouldn't wish last night's Eric trauma on my worst enemy.

At dinner tonight, we talked about baby names with my in-laws. They liked Erin, but had the same reservations that most people have- namely (no pun intended) that "Eric" and "Erin" are just so close. We discussed names, and a few names came back up that John and I had previously rejected. So after a discussion with John, I redid the poll with our top picks, including middle names we're considering. If anyone has any other suggestions, feel free to leave a comment. We are truly stumped.

Mariko and I had a few hours to catch up. I loved being able to see her. I know I'll see her again soon, but it just sucks to have someone you love so far away... It seems like all my good friends leave far from me.

P.S.- I won't see Mariko again until August. M- stay safe and we miss you!!

O What a Night...

...Late December in 2008
This day started out so great,
then turned to CRAP, O what a night...

As per usual, our day started out fine. Better than fine. We finally got our updated mortgage papers (and they're mostly correct- hey they got John's name right this time) which we finished filling out today to mail in on Monday. Then John needed to do Christmas shopping, while I needed to clean bathrooms, so he volunteers to take Eric out with him. (!!) Oh, happiness and joy! I was even able to dust a little and go grocery shopping for some essentials. It's amazing the things you once hated or took for granted before you have kids that you now find priceless. [sigh] Note: Do not go grocery shopping on the weekend before Christmas if you can avoid it.

Eric took a late nap because of his shopping adventure with dad. Our good friends Todd and Leah came over this evening, and we all went out dinner and then got ice cream. We gave Eric a bath as usual, at which point he did something he has never done before- he pooped in the tub!

Gross. So after John cleans the tub, we put Eric down after his bath, but Eric just wouldn't sleep. Sometimes when we have guests over this happens- our little extrovert would rather be downstairs socializing. But after repeated attempts by John and I to get him to sleep, Eric would continue to wake up and cry. After Todd and Leah left, Eric did it again. John and I both went up to check his diaper, maybe give him a bottle (he didn't eat much at dinner), but... BAM. Projectile vomit. You gotta hand it to the kid- he can vomit further than I can throw.

My God.. it's now, what, almost midnight and Eric still hasn't gone to sleep! John and I just spent the last 30 minutes cleaning up Eric's puke (ok, John cleaned it up because pregnant chick here took one whiff almost puked herself). We thought it might be teething, but it's not teething. Just an upset stomach. I hate it when Eric screams as he's crying. It makes me think he's in terrible pain or something. But after puking for about five minutes, and then cuddling him, Eric seemed just fine. Tired, but fine. No fever, all smiles... I have to remind myself (and John) that nights like this are few and far between with our son. Eric has never actually been sick: never had a fever, never had a cold. I know it's strange. I attibute this to the fact that Eric inherited my crazy, overactive immune system.

So, anyway, that was an adventure. John cleaned the carpet while I cuddled Eric. And after putting him yet again, Eric started to cry yet again so John went up to try and put him down again. I put the vomity clothes, burping clothes, etc. in the wash and went outside to dump some dirty diapers in our garbage can. It's then that I notice our air conditioner (is that what those things are called? I think it's just an a.c. unit, not a heating unit as well) that sits outside is covered in ice and snow. This is not good. The entire outside and even the inside is covered in frost. We have no idea why. No one else's is. So now it's an early morning call to the landlord (and here we count our blessings that it's not technically our house and we can get free maintance) to hope he can fix whatever the problem is. We can't find anything on google about this. Anyone out there have any advice?

We Train Them Young

HA! Found it! (See my last post for an explaination). Bloody iphoto...

Even though Eric may have my light coloring and personality (sorry, John), he takes after his dad in all of his interests. When Eric was about six months old, he claimed John's cell and really got upset if Jogn tried to use it. We jokingly refer to Eric's baby philosophy as "What's mine is mine, and what's yours is mine."

About three weeks ago, John was lucky enough to get his hands on the new Blackberry Storm so Eric has "inherited" John's old phone. This is a picture of Eric trying to delete John's contact list. Notice the Java book in the foreground. The only toy of John's that Eric is not allowed to play with is John's pc. I personally believe Eric is plotting on how to get his little pudgies* on that whenever we turn our backs.

*I call his hands, his "pudgies." I don't know why. I probably didn't even spell it correctly. It's a good thing I have an English teacher as a best friend = free editor. :-)

Why Can't We Be More Like...

I wanted to blog about a cute picture I took of Eric using John's cell phone with a book in the foreground on writing Java. I thought I'd entitle it "We Train Them Young" for all our fellow geeks out there. But for some reason known only to my demon-possessed imac, iphoto is claiming that the photo isn't there when I can SEE the stupid thing. Grrr... (And WHY the heck does mac insist on putting an "i" in front of everything. It's not quaint, people. It's annoying. And redundant).

So for this brief yet bitchy post, I thought I would take a minute to justify (to myself) why I haven't done the whole family Christmas rituals that everyone else seems to do once they spawn. Now, this is not a criticism of people who do this. Frankly, I envy you because there's a part of me that really wants to, but a greater part of me that is, well, lazy.

I'm talking about the annual jaunt to JCPenney or Sears for the family Christmas photo, usually made into a lovely Christmas card that can then to sent to family and friends with the extras stored for scrapbooks (which I probably won't have time to start making until the kids are both in school; I find this profoundly depressing). The feminine part of me loves the thought of getting this photo for our family. I really wanted to do this when I was pregnant with Eric. I envisioned John and I taking an excited little Eric into the mall, waiting for only about five minutes, and sitting prettily with a warm, Christmas scene in the background as a professional photographer is able to cox us all to smile happily. We would collect our photo (which was instantly made into a gorgeous Christmas card) and go home to send them to everyone on our list.

The dominant masculine part of me knows how unrealistic that is. First of all, I used to work in the children's section of Sears. I used to watch the poor saps dragging their kids to the photo section kicking and screaming (you would think that might have been enough birth control for me- like going to Disneyworld during Christmas, but oh no). This is why I don't do the whole family Christmas photo thing. For one thing, just getting Eric dressed in something that looks nice is a hassle. Packing up the diaper bag complete with a bottle and now finger foods is a time-consuming task. Then there's John. God bless him, but I think he would hate this more than Eric. Put everything together and I think to myself 'Those Christmas cards from last year will go to waste if I don't use them.' So for those of you who got the same card last year and wonder why... now you know. And, no, I don't feel at all bad about it.

Then there's the whole Santa thing. I can't tell you how many people have asked me if I've taken Eric to see Santa. I nicely tell them 'no' but here's what I'm thinking: 'wtf?' First of all, Eric has trouble recognizing his own grandfather. "Santa" is something so foreign to my 12 month old that I don't think he'll have any later childhood trauma from missing the adventure of sitting on the mall drunk's lap while I pay at least $20 for the priviledge of watching him look bewildered. Yes, it's a nice photo, but seriously... I read post after post from my mom's group about how they can't get their kids to go happily (or barring that, quietly) to see Santa and sit still for a photo. What a hassle. I figure that if Eric and "Erin" want to go see Santa in the future while we're out and about around Christmas, I'll be more than happy to get the photo. Until then, why put them (and more importantly, myself) through that kind of grief? The holidays are stressful enough.

I say this now, of course. But one year when I have some free time [hysterical laughter inserted here] I may have a change of heart and drag the little rug rats to the mall, bribing them with McDonald's to sit on Santa's lap. Then again... ;-)

Ever had one of those days...?

Wednesday was one of the crappiest days on record for me. Have you ever had one of those days that from start to finish just, well, sucked? First some background, then a sampling:

Eric, who has been a great eater of baby food for these past 6 or so months, has now gone into baby revolt. He absolutely will not eat anything that pureed or served to him with a spoon. This is driving poor mom batty, especially in the mornings, as Eric used to love eating oatmeal (and the oatmeal would be the most solid food he would eat all day).

Eric will, however, eat finger foods. I read all the books on what to feed your baby, and I got ripe avocados (which he loves), ripe bananas, steamed carrots... all the things that are healthy and that he once ate heartily when it was served to him in a bowl.

But he has now become the pickiest eater on the planet. He hates bananas (not that I don't keep trying, but after awhile you get tired of cleaning mushed bananas off of everything- trust me). He can't seem to chew the avocado and keeps spitting it out. And carrots? Carrots are right out.

He will, however, eat toast. And toasted bagels. And cheese. He loves cheese. The cheese thing is genetic, so we're not surprised. Unfortunately, so is the picky eating (from John- but as I'm always the one feeding him I feel I've been gypped).

So now that I've caught everyone up, my Wednesday went something like this...

1- Eric won't eat. And then he barely napped (of course!)

2- During the time that Eric actually IS napping (for all of 20 minutes) in the afternoon, I try to get a load of laundry in the dryer. But when I turn on the dryer, I notice that something isn't right. Sure enough, the dryer vent has separated from the back of the dryer. I can't squeeze my pregnant belly back into the wedge to fix it, and I sure as heck wasn't moving it, so I figure John can simply reattach it when he gets home.

3- When I realize that Eric won't go back to sleep, I think that a walk might do us good (ok, the truth is I couldn't bear to be pinned down in a tiny townhouse with a cranky baby for the next 3 hours waiting desperately for a reprieve from my spouse). The weather was really mild and warm. Foggy, as it had been raining all morning, and a little eerie but nice. I get the stroller from the trunk of my car. I can push it only to the edge of the steps leading to the front door. I get my keys, my cell, and put Eric in the stroller. This is where I'm starting to feel positive about how my day might turn out. This was a mistake.

As we start walking, I notice that I have stepped in mud that was lying on the sidewalk (you know where this is going, don't you?). Yeah. Not mud. Keep in mind that there are leash laws in effect in Fairfax County that can fine someone $2,500 for not picking up dog poop. But some a** hole still managed to leave it on the sidewalk for anyone to step in. The good news is that the rain made it easier to wipe off of my shoe. The bad news is I STILL managed to get it on my hand, had to go inside and wash furiously while my child was in a stroller outside (I still feel bad about that). And then after the walk I knew I would have to clean it up, or I could get blamed for it and/or John would probably step in it, too. I'd like to say that I did the Christian thing on my walk with Eric and wished the dog walker happy thoughts and a Merry Christmas, but the truth is I imagined a ring of hell where people like this drown in dog poop for all eternity. Or at least get caught and have to pay the fine.

At least I'm not bitter. ;-)

4) I had another 2 hours to kill before John came home, and Eric was just a pill. A very tired little pill. I knew from experience he wouldn't nap again. I tried to make the best of the tantrums he threw when I wouldn't let him pull a lamp on himself or eat paper. I couldn't wait for John to get home...

5) But when John gets home, he looks miserable. Turns out they were painting in a part of the lab where he was working and didn't tell anyone. John had a migraine and goes upstairs to lay down in the dark. No chance of moving the dryer. We decide I should call the landlord who asks if it can wait until Friday. I convince him it would be best to do it that evening.

6) I play a game of "get the crawling baby" and climb behind Eric upstairs to the bedroom. Eric happily begins playing with one of his toys. Then... everything turns black. Power outage. John calls the Virginia Power who says that something is blown at the station, that the outage is widespread, and it will take awhile to fix.

We call the landlord and tell him about the outage. John watches Eric as I go to pick up some dinner. The power company had us convinced that it was widespread, but as I drove down the road I noticed that everyone had electricity but our neighborhood. I'd like to say that this is a rare occurrence, but we've lived here for over a year and our power has gone off about six or seven times during perfectly normal weather and for no reason.

After I get back, we bathe Eric in the dark using flashlights. We put him down without his usual white noise, and he thankfully goes to sleep. We eat in the dark, and as soon as we're finished, the power comes back. The rest of the story has a happy ending- the landlord comes and not only fixes the dryer but helps John install a second car seat into the Prius. Everything ends on a happy note. But my God... what a day!

Not final decision yet, but...

John and I have started calling Number 2 "Erin." I think we just really like the name. I hope when I screaming "Eric" and "Erin" at the top of my lungs, that they can hear the difference. :-) But no final decision yet. That's up to John. Not that I nag him about it every day or anything... ;-)

He had better nap...

Do any other moms out there just want to strangle their children when you KNOW they're tired and yet they refuse to nap??? God, I have one bloody hour a day to get stuff done. And I'd like to say that when Eric naps I sit back on the couch with some hot cocoa resting on my pregnant belly while watching Dr. Phil. But the truth is that hour of Eric's afternoon nap is the ONLY time during the day when I can get anything done. I can no longer vacuum- it wakes him up and he starts to cry. I can barely do laundry- he gets into everything so I have to use the dreaded playpen. I hate wasting my precious time doing chores, but when else will they get done?? And God, to think that it will get WORSE when number 2 arrives! I hate being a woman. I think every woman on earth goes straight to heaven. And all men get reincarnated as women.

John's Guest Blog: "Yes, Virginia(*), Girls CAN Throw the Football"

(*) Or, in this case, Gary Danielson (color commentator for college football on CBS).

So, I'm home alone this weekend because Jen and Eric are soaking up the Christmas spirit at her parents' place. What does this mean? I can watch college football all day. Now, I want to set the matter straight: before I got married and before Eric arrived on the scene, I did NOT watch college football all Saturday long. I would watch the UVA game on Saturday and the Washington Redskins game on Sunday. I might tune into other games, but usually I was watching something else and I would flip to the games during commercials.

However, now, if I have the option, I'll jump on it. Jen, I am doing other things as well (mainly finances). This is all irrelevant. What I want to talk about is the halftime entertainment in the SEC Championship game.

For those of you who don't watch college football, Dr. Pepper sponsors the ACC, SEC, and Big 12 championship games (all of which play on the same Saturday). During halftime, each game features the Dr. Pepper "Throw for Cash/A Scholarship" game. It's a simple game. You have two contestants (one fan for each team, I believe) who stand five yards away and throw 10 footballs at large Dr. Pepper can with a hole in the side. The person who throws the most balls through the hole wins a $100,000 scholarship (the loser gets a $5,000 scholarship (yes, 1/20th of the winner)).

In the SEC Championship game, there are two women competing (in the ACC there were two guys ... the Big 12 championship hasn't happened yet at the time of this writing): Erica Davis (representing Alabama) and Tima Hamsher (representing Florida, and yes, her name is Tima). So, here's my transcription of the event:

Verne Lundquist: Back at the Georgia Dome in downtown Atlanta, the Florida Gators with a seven point lead, halftime at the SEC Championship presented by Dr. Pepper and inside, we are set for the Dr. Pepper ... [call lost due to a TV signal problem] .. throw 10 balls from the 5-yard line. The contestant with the most successful throws will win a $100,000 scholarship. A significant difference ... [laughs] ... the runner-up gets a $5000 scholarship. Let's go down to Tracy Wolfson.
Tracy Wolfson: Well, thanks a lot, and I'm hear with our contestants, Tima Hamsher and Erica Davis. And Erica, let me ask you first, how did you prepare for this one?
Erica Davis: I had a barrel in my backyard and I just threw it.
Tracy Wolfson: Alright. Well, Tima, you struggled in the throw-off a little bit yesterday. So, anything going through your mind? Did you make any adjustments?
Tima Hamshar: We practiced a lot more, and I'm kind of more focused, so I feel pretty ready. So ...
Tracy Wolfson: Alright, you both ready? Alright, get in position. Here we go! 1 ... 2 ... 3 ... GO!
Verne Lundquist: [Erica throws her first pass off to the right to start] Oh!
Gary Danielson: You know, from five yards out, you don't have to spi-spiral it at all, you can just chuck it up there.
Verne Lundquist: [Erica makes her first pass] There's one. [Erica makes her second pass] There's two. Ohhh.
Gary Danielson: That's nice. That might be an insurmountable lead. [Tima has missed her first three (or four?) passes]

:shock:

First off, "You don't have to spiral it, you can just chuck it?" WTF?! Did you expect the women to just underhand the throws? Shot put them? Do you think that women don't know how to throw a football? I did not listen to the patter during the ACC's version, so I don't know if they were commenting on how the guys threw, but I'll assume they didn't.

Secondly, as a (long-suffering) UVA fan, I know you never, ever, EVER say "insurmountable lead." I strongly believe in the "Football Gods." These entities (or forces, if you prefer) represent a karmic rebalancing. They do not suffer taunting, cockiness, and poor sportsmanship gladly. "Insurmountable lead" is like spitting in their face. They'll make you look bad (I'll explain the "Fresno State" incident if you want, Jen :) ).

Indeed, the final score was 6-5 for Erica, when she made her last scoring pass as time expired (Tima had started out slow but put the pressure on in the end).

BTW, the ACC Championship version of this contest? The final was 7-4. So, Gary, these two ladies outperformed one of the two male contestants in Tampa, and Erica was one throw short of tying the other.

I realize that watching football is thought of a primarily male pursuit, but women do watch these games (I suppose you can see a woman or two in the stands ... but only a couple ... and they are all sitting around knitting and gossiping ... riiiight :rolls eyes: ). There are semi-professional women's football leagues that I'm sure would kill me if I stepped on to a gridiron with. Hell, if nothing else, women do have brothers, and they play together as kids.

You would think the commentators would be smarter about this. You'd be wrong. I suspect that's simply because they think they can get away with it, or, even worse, they don't notice they are being condescending and misogynistic.

OK, seriously...

WHO keeps voting for Julia???

(We're starting to get closer to picking a name! But PLEASE not Julia!)

In Response to Not Having a Christmas Tree

I really liked Kelly's suggestion of moving things around in our townhouse in order to accommodate having a Christmas tree. John and I talked last night and found a way to actually put up our tree in the living room. But today two things happened that changed my mind-

1- I realized how much time and effort it would take to put up the tree
2- (And this is the most important) I realized our tree had been sitting outside in the shed for a year with lots of little critters, and I didn't want to invite those things into our house with Beastling. This became very real to me when I woke up this morning and was greeted by a spider sitting on top of the banister to our stairs. Probably from my getting our Christmas decorations down the night before.

So last night I put up our ceramic tree on top of an end table. It looks nice, even if that side of the room looks plain.

And Eric saw it lit up tonight and squealed with delight. He then tried to find a way to it. Probably in order to put the tiny lights into his mouth. I had to take a picture...

In Honor of Eric FINALLY Eating Solids

Keep in mind, our little Beastling hasn't taken well to solids. Apparently he likes spaghetti. Of course, most of it doesn't actually get into his mouth. And OMG... the clean-up! [sigh]

A New Box

Right before Thanksgiving, I opened my front door to see a note taped up that read: "Your mailbox is being changed on Tuesday, November 25th." Now, honestly, what kind of sick individual decides to do this right before a major holiday? It went on to say "Please continue to use the old mailbox. Your HOA president will have the keys to the new mailbox as soon as they are released from the post office."

Now all of that sounds good until you realize that John and I are renting and technically can't collect the new mailbox keys. But getting a hold of our landlords Mr. and Mrs. F is difficult at best. So I've been calling the number on the note to try and get more information on how we can get the keys. Especially after John came home last night and checked the old mailbox only to find we had no mail (with all the junk magazines out for the holidays we knew that meant the new box had taken affect).

I called the number and got an answering machine every time. Then tonight before John got home there was a frantic knock and several rings on our doorbell. Eric was in his high chair, and while I hated leaving him, I dropped a couple of munchies on his tray and headed to the door.

Two older women were standing outside. "We have your new mailbox keys."
"Great!" I answer. I'm actually relieved that I don't have to go track these people down.
"Can we come in?" one of the women asks. "You know, you really should have your outside light on."

I bite my tongue as I was taught not to be rude to the elderly. I mean, taking care of a toddler every freaking day I'm lucky if I can shower, let alone remember to turn the damn porch light on. The women sit down, drop their heavy duty flashlights on our coffee table, and bring out a pouch of golden mailbox keys, three keys on each cheap silver keyring.

"Mr. and Mrs F?" one of the women asks.

NOW, here is where Jen fudges a little. I was afraid to mention that John and I are not Mr. and Mrs. F, that we are in fact renting, because I was afraid these over-important, elderly versions of Selma and Patty would deny us our keys until after we contacted our landlord. So I repeated the last name of our landlord back to them, pronounced correctly, never actually mentioning that I wasn't Mrs. F. Sneaky, I know.

Then the women present me with the golden keys. I had to initial for them (I initialed very quickly... as Mrs. F's first name begins with an "R" and I didn't want the "JL" to look like a "JL."

As the women were closing up their documents, one of them asks me for an email address. And because I'm an idiot, I say 'yes.' Anyone who knows me understands how predictable I am- right down to my email addresses at yahoo, gmail, and hotmail. It's my first and last name combined. So I spell out "j-e-n-l-o-i-z-e-a-u-x."

The woman writing this down gives me a look.

I shrug and say "It cuts down on spam."
She smiles. "I can appreciate that."

And they finally left.

God, can you BELIEVE that?

Anyway, after John comes home, I show him the new keys and put one on my keychain. Since I need to make a grocery store run (doesn't everyone spend way too much money on groceries? It's one of my pet peeves... and I use coupons and buy most stuff on sale!), I decide to be the first one to check the mail.

I head out to the new mailbox. It's cold, windy, and 9pm at night. The first thing I notice about the new mailbox is that we now have an "outgoing mail" slot. This means I don't have to walk to the mailbox up the street to mail a letter. This is a good thing.

The second thing I notice is that the numbers are completely different, and I have no idea which mailbox is ours. So I use my key on every number. I go through all 16 before I realize that I'm not putting the stupid key in all the way. So now I start putting my key in starting with number 16, jiggling it when it gets stuck, and working my way to number 1. And you can probably guess which mailbox was ours. No, not number 1. It's Number 2. So after hauling out about 20 magazines and various pieces of junk mail from our number 2 box, I trek back to the house.

I put the mail on the coffee table and tell John about how the boxes are now labeled differently, and that it took me awhile to figure out which mailbox was ours.

John picks up the remaining set of mailbox keys from the table and, with a smirk, points to a sticker on one of the keys that says "#2" in plain English.

This is where I do what any good wife would do: I give my husband the finger (he laughed, at least I think he did). :-)

Then I promptly head to the grocery store where I can enjoy an hour of shopping without a baby in tow, even if it is for groceries.

(I know this was a long and drawn-out story, but honestly, my life is so dull... I figure if I don't mention the highlights of my day, I'll have nothing to write about.)

What kind of Christmas?

I have always loved Christmas- the festive lights, the holiday shopping (I know; I'm odd that way), putting up the tree and decorating the inside and outside of the house... However, this year due to Beastling and lack of funds due to the new house, we are cutting back. I don't mind cutting back on presents. That's a no-brainer. But we don't have the room in our tiny townhouse for our artificial tree this year, mostly due to the fact that our downstairs looks like Babies R Us vomited up their entire toy section. With no tree, I just don't feel very Christmasy. And even though John got paid yesterday(?) over half of the check is gone due to the home inspection and rent. I am just wondering how the next few months are going to be with all of these financial constraints to deal with. I know I have to leave everything in God's hands... I just feel depressed right now thinking of all the things I would love to do but can't.

(And it would also help if Beastling would have napped for more than 45 minutes this afternoon. He's been awake for awhile now. I know I should go get him. Knowing another baby will completely obliterate any "me" time I could have on a daily basis for checking email or doing a quick cleaning is also depressing.)