Medi-Christmas!

Because I'm a loser and I never really figured out how to use my Health Savings Account the way you're supposed to and since I've received conflicting answers on whether I'll be able to keep the funds after January, I'm left to rifle through the pharmacopoeia of FSA-eligible items on Drugstore.com so's I can at least put the money toward something. So, if you're reading this and you're in my teeny-tiny gift circuit, I hope you like aspirin! And Rolaids! And Carmex! And Bengay! And Gold Bond! And... <=]

Merry Chemistry to all and to all a Good Nyquil!!!

What has two hands, wears jammies, sits by a Christmas tree and likes to kick around an assortment of household items?

This guy!

Jimmy had so much fun learning how to kick a ball back and forth that now everything in his path gets the special five-toe five-foot trip across the floor. You never know what you're going to find at any moment, this kid has been theeee best exercise for our peripheral vision and nimbly footwork. Action!!!

Over My Dead Chassis

Your outlook on everything changes the moment you're given an 8 pound soft squishy breathing thing to take into your home, and as time goes by some convictions get stronger, some slough off, and you find ones you never knew existed. I respect Jimmy as a person so if he shows interest in something that squicks me out I may waffle a bit on my opinions, such as...why not let him sit on a smelly santa's lap if he wants to. Buzz Lightyear gun? Hmm, I mean if he's already using sticks as guns and I keep an eye on any possibly developing deviant behavior, mmmyaybe I'd let him keep one. If he really wants to wear pink jelly shoes, they're his. If he wants to risk his neck as a football whiz, that'll be me wincing in the bleachers at every game. I admit, I cross my fingers HARD that I can nip any interest in those stupid dirty cumbersome germmobile grocery cart cars in the bud (I'm thinking of telling him they'll make him gay. Ha! J/k. And, not that there's anything wrong with that.) But a clip from tonight's news generated a recurring low rumble from the bottom of my lungs as I heard "over my dead body" roll out of my mouth in response to something I feel strongly about keeping Jimmy safe from: The School Bus.

I know it's kind of iconic and a rite of passage for the American child to ride a school bus, and I have many years experience of all kinds of public transportation and think a kid's romance with school buses will wear off faster than he can say "OMG I HATE THIS BUS!" But bus bullies and boring bus routes aren't the reason for the My Dead Body rumble over the thought of Jimmy being in one, it's movies like The Sweet Hereafter and the absence of seatbelts and Google News proving that school bus accidents are an alarmingly common occurrence, and pattern CSR calls that I get from school bus drivers on field trips in search of a gas station because they clearly didn't have the foresight to plan before they got a bus full of kids on the interstate, and local news stories from today which confirm my suspicion that I just can't take the risk on trusting school bus driver people. So nope, sorry Jimmy, no school bus for you. I know, I know...I'm just so overbearing.

The 8th of the Month

It's the 8th of the month, the day of trepidation as my fingers boldy address the keyboard while my breaths tread but gingerly as I log into my online banking account, then I cross those fingies in anticipation that the $$$ total of my account is $xxx.xx less than it was the day before. It's the day the mortgage company withdraws our mortgage payment, with escrow, the day my math doesn't bounce, the monthly tradition of breathing a sigh of relief and reassuring myself "they're gonna let us live here for another month."

This month's 8 marks a special occasion, it's the five year anniversary that we bought this house. Happy housey-versary to us!!! 60 payments! Only a mere 300 to go! We are stylin'!!!

To celebrate the Special Day, I found some "BEFORE" photos of the house we bought, and some reasons why we quickly wondered "RALLLLPPPHHH????"









The best (only) compliments we ever got were on the Home Depot general issue front door. Oh yes, our champagne glasses refused to ching that night, instead we founded the anti-ching along with a determination to make things better.

My wonderful husband has worked wonders on this house, a home that keeps presenting me with frequent treasures even today--this evening was the first time it registered in my ickle head that in the non-leafy months we can see The Eastland from the backyard of our urban suburban industrial municipal homestead.



See the red light! It's there. This delights the cosmopolitan cockleparts that still live in my wee heart. Happy Anniversary to us!

Decemberian Updatia

Saturday: Das Global Varming Krisis ist Kaput!





Sunday: Never mind hair on your chest, spaghetti will put SPAGHETTI on your chest.



And speaking of chest, hair, and porkloaf on your face: it's Elvis of the flesh!


Some funny images at first, then bla bla bla until 3:00. Watch! Wa-atch!!! (can also be found here.)


Which brings us to right now, Jimmy is totally jamming out to this:



On Channel 8. Could there be a freakier Christmas special?

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No.

Adventageous Calendar

I hoped a Bad Santa-esque chocolate Advent calendar would help get Wally in the Christmas mood.

Day 4, and it appears to be working!

December's Giftorium

Today Jimmy got to revel in his very favorite sound: Motorcycles. All summer long he went nuts for motorcycles and today I realized how much he's been missing BBRBBRRBBBLLBBBRRBBMMRRRBBBing with them all. If I were reading this I might assume that I was reading about a Christmassy tradition of sniffing woodstoves and cradling cocoa while watching Badass Santa on His Motorbike on Tee Veee, but no we weren't, we were listening to motorcycles on the street. And we heard them so well because our windows were open. We live in December! In Maine! It was 67 degrees today, freakishly warm, a nice holiday season treat for sure! I hope to think of this day as I come whitey face-to-face with a Polar bear who was lucky to have floated southward. Have I ever mentioned the Waterfront Housing of the Future that we bought here? I'm assuming if the internet lives after 2012 that my great grandchildren can Google this. Merry Christmas, my darling Great-Grandchildren, I hope you enjoy holidays at the waterfront ranch. (Is anyone named after me??) (Or Al Gore, at least?)