I erased a glowing bottle of protein shake that was sitting on the coffee table, in this photo. If I haven't had my protein, look out! 

Present time at Great-Grandma's house. I'll have you know that although she had plentyof presents, she's meddling in one that's not for her, and might I add, full of sugary cookies.  

Baby Tad, you're great. 

Baby C and Grandma Sue, with the "Horseride to Boston", she loves it. 

To my aesthetic dismay, the pacifier and the bib were the mainstays of her happy holiday, and necessary for "peace on earth." 

Some may think this one is too blurry. But I like it. 

Here's she is with Grandpa Jim. Thank you Photoshop. 

We spent most of our evening trying to appease the tot. Here Allison is pictured with Baby Tad, to no avail. Who knows what the baby is swinging over her head. 

Here are my three darlings of Christmas. Franklin: my present from 2004, the baby: my present from 2005, and my SteamVac: 2006's star present. You can see I'm hiding 2007's present in my pajamas. 

Christmas can be a little overwhelming for a baby. Note the playtube on the right. 

I can't wait two days

Ordinarily I'd wait until Baby Tue to post this photo, but I'm sure it will be overshadowed by Christmas photos, so here it is:



Kevin and I took the baby to the park yesterday afternoon, for her daily dose of playground fun. Just as we were coming around the corner this little boy, Chris, ran up to her and said "baby!" and bear hugged her. His parents came over immediately and statred taking pictures. They reminded me of "Data" Wang's parents at the end of the Goonies movie. They cracked me up. The mom asked if I wanted copies of the pics, so I gave her my email address. And whaddya know? I check my inbox and there they are. :)

this is how I do a Christmas party

Because I have anxiety about possible boredom at any party I host, I like to have some sort of theme. In this case, we did a murder mystery party: HonkyTonk Homicide.
It was set in "Cactus Texas" and there were ten roles for everyone to assume. Kinda like playing Clue but with funny costumes and storyline.

I was the sheriff, Sam was the town tramp, and Allison was a carney (she felt the role was subtle enough for her to not have to look like a fool).

Kevin was a convict, and as the story progressed, we also learned that I, the sheriff was blackmailing him to be my sex slave.
Even though I drew fake tattoos on him and gave him greaser hair, he resorted to his old ways after the party and fell asleep with a terrier on his chest.

Baby Tuesday

Ok, I'm sorry that there is only one photo this week, and it's totally silly.
But next week, think of all the baby photos there will be from Christmas. You'll forget all about this week then.



Poor little bug, got my nose in her eye. Her face says "um, what are we doing here?"

mental yule block

I was standing in line at Wahoo's, not to be confused with Yahoo's, waiting to place my order for fish tacos, when I heard someone meet her friend and say,
"hey"
to which the guy replied,
"merry Christmas."
And they exchanged a polite hug.

A polite hug is a good metaphor on how I feel about saying "Merry Christmas" to someone, as a greeting. Forced and awkward.

Like the rest of the year I say "sup, cracka'" or "word to your mom" but during December suddenly I become a part of 19th century Victorian England and use the word "merry" in a sentence.
Feels weird.

Not that I don't honestly hope that people make happy Christmas memories with their families, that no one gets drunk n' ornery, or drives off the road into a tree, or finds that rats ate the cookies for Santa (although I think that would be pretty entertaining). But I can't bring myself to say it.

But then I don't like to talk about serious feelings.

I guess the "merry Christmas" apprehension is related to that.

like a sandwich that tastes better because your mom made it

Some people have coffee addictions...okay alot of people...
In fact, I'd say 80% of the people I know have a caffiene addiction.
I'm apparently unable to have any addiction. I think this is due to my extreme sloth, and an addiction would require alot of effort on my part that I'm not willing to exert.

However, I do love pearl tea. I think I love it in the way that other people love Starbucks. I have one maybe once or twice a month, mostly because it's kinda expensive for what you get-- tea, syrup, milk and gummies.

It occurred to me that I could probably make them at home.
So I looked it up.
Apparently I can.

But that would kind of take the fun out of it. Right?
Like how rich celebrities have Starbucks come out and install a custom coffee bar in their mansions. It can't be as good, because you still have to make it yourself.
And besides, I'm not Korean, I'll probably screw it up.

And if you're curious, this is what an extreme sloth* looks like>



*ok, I'm not extremely slothful, I just wanted to make that image.

and now a B.T. special report

Today marks the first temper tantrum.

After 1)kicking and yelling when I changed her diaper 2) yelling and flailing that she didn't want to put clothes on 3)insisting on carrying around an apple core from breakfast onto the cat-hairy couch, I took the apple and threw it in the trash---
SCREAM! *FLOP* down on the floor!
I debated whther to take her ourside or put her in her crib. Either way she would need more than just a diaper on. So I went to put her clothes on [again].
SCREAM! RED FACE! KICK KICK KICK! CLAW away!
It was like something from a Steve Martin movie. At times I had her on her head so I could put her pants on.

I chose the crib option, just in case she thought this kind of thing would buy her freedom.

She's freaking out in her room now.

Baby Tuesday

Sunday, we drove down to the beach to take photos for Allison. I couldn't help but take a few of Baby C with her Koala Kookie box. After all it was the first time she'd been on the sand at the beach. I was totally amazed that she was smart enough to stay out of the way of the waves. Gotta protect the kookies.





By the way, Christmas shopping with the baby is challenging. And I don't mean that in a euphamistic way. It really just requires a strategy and dare I say, a little planning. It's an equation dealing with factors of sleepiness, mode of baby transport, pre-park/post-park and pacifiers. Max amt of stores in one day: 3. Max amt of shopping total: 1 hr.

Once again, I bought her presents in front of her yesterday. No big woop.

Today I had to go to Borders to get a book and the line to checkout was incredibly long and I was going to have to restrain her in my arms until 15 [old]people had checked out.
I had to get creative and go to the cafe counter at the back of the store and try to buy the book there with the pretense of ordering a decaf cup of tea. It was a mixed blessing that the woman ahead of me ordered lunch for herself and her two kids-- the kids were distracting for Baby C but her order took so long that I started to sweat.
It was one of those moments where if I had anything else to deal with at that moment I would have lost it like a mom in a B rated holiday movie. But I kept my cool while I had to spell out my email address for the cashier while scurrying to grab up the baby before she pulled down a glass tip jar from the wrapping station.

Oh and then when we got home, I rushed for the bathroom, after I thought all not-for-baby things were secured. In those 60 seconds while I wasn't watching her, she pulled that Borders cup of tea off of the table, brought it into our bedroom and dumped the entire contents on our new carpet.
I gotta hand it to her, she's good.


Okay, the baby isn't in this photo. But it's not worth it's own post.
Here we are about to leave to go to the work party. It's my one time a year I pull out the rhinestones and the faux fur wrap. Of course, many (80%) Socks-with-Sandals-Land people that work with Mr. T think dressing up is a clean T-shirt. But I don't let that stop my bling.

ye passengers be warned

Our flight is less than a month away and I'll be honest, the thought of another scream-fest is making me tense.
To release a little anxiety and to give fellow flyers fair warning, I made this little onesie for the bug to wear.



I'm considering making a matching one for me to wear that says "Ask me about earplugs!"

oh christmas shrub, oh christmas shrub

Here's our little tree. I bought it all by myself while Mr T. and the bug waited in the car.
'Picked it up, carried it to the kiosk and then stuck in the passenger seat. That's the great thing about short trees, no fuss and low cost.

I bought a card table and sewed
a little tree skirt-meets-tablecloth-meets-puppetstage-meets-opium den.
There are supposed to be red "sombrero puffs" trimming both openings, but I ran out.
I put pillows under the table so maybe the baby or even the dogs would hang out in there. But they don't really.

And boy am I glad it's up on the table! She daily plays the game of what can I swat at? So far, just one ornament has come off.
And plenty of needles.

Baby Tuesday

I think this Baby Tuesday makes up for the meager ones in the past weeks. It's chocked full.

If Janet Jackson dressed a baby, she'd probably look something like this. Fabulous! And the best part, the whole outfit cost less than 10 bucks. Woo doggies!


Here it is in action. It's a struggle to keep a hat on that bug.


"Whoa, did you just dress me in a holiday sweater?!
Yes I did. I thought a trip to the fabric/craft store would be the perfect venue for a sweater like this to be appreciated. Sadly, no one commented. They had christmas crafting tunnel vision.

We went to "Holiday In the Park" on Sunday afternoon with Grandma T. Merriment abounded.




I love this face. For some reason, it reminds me of Aurora.





She liked watching the ice skaters most of all. We could have stayed there for hours.


Oh my gosh, I'm still wearing a holiday sweater? C'mon!