Shoes and Hat!

Jonah's Auntie Lyssa made him this cute little hat (which, in order to see, you'll have to excuse the blur that is the result of a little boy who refuses to sit still for pictures anymore...)




He wears it with his pajamas. And sleeps with it. Insistently.




She even put his name on it! In case he... uh... forgets... in his sleep...



Anyway, it's very cute, and he loves it. (For a three-year-old, sleeping with an object is the ultimate display of attachment).





My Grandma likes to get me warm things. She grew up in Minnesota and she knows the meaning of cold. Those cozy, thick red flannel sheets on my bed? From Grandma, because she's very frozen-arctic-savvy. So this year, she ordered us slippers. Yay! As we all know, I would perish without slippers.

So a big box came in the mail, shipped directly from the company. Nathan got his slippers, and while I thought mine were backordered, I got these cute little numbers to fill in the gap:



They fit, and they're actually kind of comfy... but... wow.



Nathan made me put them away before he hurled all over them and rendered them unreturnable. I think they're kind of... um... fun.

We also got a pair of giant's moccasins, and since we're all short people here, those'll be the first to go back.

I finally called the company today and will be sending back the two pairs of interesting footwear, and they'll be sending me my much needed slippers.

Pooey

Browsing around on Etsy again (because a dear friend gave me a gift of SHOPPING, yay! I am having so much fun!) and this little shirt cracked me up!



Find it here: iPood.

Ham for Christmas

That following is a truthful account of what happens when you try to photograph a contrary three-year-old in his Christmas suit.

Names have been changed to protect the identities of the victims.

~~~

Okay, stand up and look at me! Let's take some pictures of you in your nice new suit!




Hey! Look!




Now stand up!






Now look! Smile! Quit wiggling!




Stand still! Smiiiiile! Cheese! C'mon...



Quit. Wiggling. Stand still! Let's take some pictures! I bet Grandma and Grandpa and Oma and Opa would like to seeeeeee you! Look how handsome you are!





Oh! Very nice smile! Now stand still! Cheeeese!




Hey, that was very good! One more!




Will you stand still?




Great smile! Now stand still!





Kah-wit. Wiiiig-gle-ing.





Oh, what a handsome boy! Say "Merry Christmas!" STAND STILL!





Smile nice! What's that on your vest?





Yeah, who is that? Smile!





Put your arms down and stand nice! Fold your hands.... smile... STOP WIGGLING!




Great. Good enough.



End of session.

Try not to step in the brain matter and bloody goo on your way out.

Just to Prove to You How Wierd We Really Are

(I quake to post this story. Now you will know the deep level of our strange.)

I was making breakfast and I when I put the eggshells in the compost bucket, I noticed it was very full and on top was a little mountain of gross-looking dirt. And first thing in the morning, that makes me gag a little. So I asked Nathan, in my sweetest gaggy voice, "Did you dump than hand-vac into the compost bucket?"

Nathan: "No, I swept the mudroom floor."

Me: "And dumped it in the compost? That grosses me out..."

N: "You have turkey feet and eggshells simmering on the stove. Surely that is grosser." [Don't ask. --ed.]

M: "No, that's food. But this is yucky dirt in the compost bucket where I am making food. Why not dump it in your bucket?"

N: "There's a hole in my bucket" "That's for wood bits for starting the fire. Dirt doesn't really burn..."

M: "So dump it outside."

N: "It's a big pile of dirt to just toss outside!"

M: "You know what's outside? Piles of dirt."

Cheery

Now that it is officially Christmas, I can wish you all a merry one and joy in the birth of our Savior!

Apologies for the lack of posts of the last few days. On Christmas Eve I was trying to upload two videos of Jonah singing some Christmas songs, and Blogger was not co-operating. In fact, it still isn't, as I've had the second video uploading for about the past 5 hours. It should not take that long, this I know. I may have to try YouTube or Vimeo or something. Anyway, hopefully that will be forthcoming soon. Also, I will try to post some Christmas pictures over the next few days.

Meanwhile, today I am trying to tame the trash-pit that is my house. With all the activity of the last few days, rushing around for church services, and leaving to visit friends overnight Christmas Day, this house was a disaster. I actually let Jonah watch his new Little Bear DVD (I know! Can you say "lazy mother"?) so that I could do some damage control. So I've been shoveling flat surfaces and picking bits of tape and wrapping paper off the floor and huffing and puffing and finally, my house is recognizable for what it is, a home, instead of what it looked like, a county landfill. Not spic'n'span, mind you, but at least I can feel the drafts blowing through again.

Ya know, I'm really not a very good housekeeper. I know this about myself. I've always known this. My husband knew this when he married me... I think. My house is not disgusting or dirty or full of trash or anything --I can have it picked up reasonably well in a half hour-- but it could be better.

Some time ago, I was irritated at my husband's annoyance by messes or clutter. Then it occurred to me-- a cluttered mind can't stand a cluttered house. My husband is just so busy and has so many things to think about that when the house is even a little messy, he just can't think. So I set out to do my best at ameliorating this situation. I can't do a thing about his cluttered mind problem, but I've been trying to be better at keeping on top of the mess.

To help myself along, I developed some strategies. For one thing, I started thinking of myself as a "cleanie" instead of accepting my poor cleaning skills. Then I made an effort to keep on top of stuff that piles up. We have a tendency to piles, partly developed by living in small spaces and not having good storage. Oh, and lazyness. That doesn't help. My best weapon against this is "puttering". It's invaluable, really. I turn on some music and start wandering around the house picking up things and putting them where they go. It goes quickly and the result, without actually cleaning anything, is remarkable. Also, to make real cleaning less painful, I do it in small bits. I keep cleaning supplies handy in the bathroom and kitchen so I can do a quick wipe-down once in a while. I only vaccuum or dust one room at a time sometimes. I scub the sink and wipe the stove daily. This makes the jobs quick and painless and before I even know it, I've cleaned something! Wa-hoo! And finally, I'm trying to make an effort for everything to have a home, and to quickly dispose of junk or things we don't use.

Um, this was not actually meant to be a recitation of my cleaning habits or lack thereof. This is all to say that I've discovered something: Just like everything else, It's Winter's Fault. By that I mean both the clutter development and my husband's intolerance of it. Because, really, for several months now, Nathan hasn't really complained much, and I though I must have really improved! Wow! Look what a great housekeeper I've become! But now, December-- the Clutter Irritation Demon is back. And here's my theory: 1) This is a busy time of year for Nathan with holidays and everything. So now his brains are leaking out his ears and the clutter gets to him. 2) He's trapped in the house now with bad weather, but he's used to being outside and on the go all the time working on projects. So he sees the messes more, and I don't have the option of "Daddy's coming home! Let's get the living room picked up!" 3) And then there's also the fact that Jonah is in the house constantly and just as constantly making messes. The couch cusions have taken up permanent residence on the floor, along with toys and blankets and books and no less than 18 pairs of little socks. 4) We're burning wood which brings with it heaps of dirt (but I splurged on a hand-held vaccuum which will live by the woodstove and if I can get Jonah over his fear of it, I'll put that job onto him, bwa-hahahaa!). And finally, 5) winter is depressing and cold and I'd much rather read a book than clean the house.

All this to futher prove my point that winter is bad for my health and wellbeing and the state of the union.

Oookaaaay. Moving on from that very long and rambling rabbit run.

Eh-hem.

I'm finding that with my new and improved view of Christmas and the traditional uses for the seasons, I'm more excited about celebrating Christmas during Christmas! All the preparation and work is done, so now I can party! I've invited two different sets of friends over for a supper and cards and Christmas cookies on two different nights this week, and am hopefully planning a "girl's night out" to go see a movie (in the theater!!) and have a drink sometime soon. I tried to work myself into inviting people over or having a little Christmas party during Advent, and I just couldn't get into it. I felt like I had too many things to do and I couldn't think about anything else. But now all that's done, so I'm making plans (and cleaning my house for company).

I guess I should keep inviting people over and having little parties all winter to get myself through it (and keep my house clean)...

We've Got Cabin Fe-VAH!

Last night our office/den/playroom/library room was kind of like a walk-in refrigerator. So I decided to put my five loaves of sourdough bread in there overnight instead of trying to cram them into the fridge. Brilliant, I know! Actually, it was my Mom's idea.

Anyway, somehow I forgot that tropical plants to not care to live in walk-in refrigeration units.



My poor, beautiful Angel-wing Begonia that I've been loving and tenderly caring for for years (and by "loving and tenderly caring for" I'm not counting the times I've knocked it off it's perch and broken branches, or forgotten to water it soon enough and had to mercilessly cut it back to bring back living shoots). It's such a lovely and exotic looking plant, given to me by a friend who moved away, from which I have rooted cuttings and started new plants to give away. It spent the summer on my porch and I just recently bought a new, pretty pot for it because it's been thriving and outgrowing it's own pot. And now... I'm not sure of it's survival of my arctic office. It's been getting sadder all day. There may be a branch I can save for a new start, but it was getting so big and beautiful. How sad.

Eh-hem. Sniffle.


I walked into my living room a few minutes ago and saw this:



"Ack! Jonah, what are you doing? UNdecorating our Christmas tree?"

"No, Mama! I'm picking apples!"

Right. Of course that's it.

So we re-hung the ornaments and commenced with some wrapping paper tube fencing.




It was a mighty du-ell!




He swashed and I buckled...




All rails and posts without the barbed wire.



And we ended in a tie of our equal tube-fighting prowess.



Can you say "cabin fever?"

Sprucing It Up

First, let me get this off my chest: today is the first day of winter. First. Day. And we're celebrating with a current temperature of 3 degrees Fahrenheit BELOW zero, and a wind chill at 26 BELOW zero. People, it is cold. And did I mention it's only beginning?

Happy Winter Solstice. Yippity doodley ding dang da.

Moving on.

We put up our Christmas tree today! After running around the nearest largeish town, a half hour's drive away, hoping someone would be discounting their precut trees since it's only a few days before Christmas and no one's gonna buy them after Christmas, donchaknow, and finding the $35 price tags still intact, we came home and cut one of our blue spruces which were planted too close together anyway, but are awefully fat and untamed for Christmas trees.

Whew! Nothing like a run-on sentance to get a blog post off on the right foot.




Nathan braved the bitter cold and got the tree to the proper height (pretty much the top half of the tree) and then brought it in a got creative with the support apparatus, as well as with his choice words about Christmas trees and the putting up thereof.





Jonah, meanwhile, manned the snack wagon.






He was able to break away from his duties, however, to help with stringing lights. (Which we didn't turn on because the tree was dripping wet. And I later discovered that a whole string is... not working).






So we put on some Nat King Cole Christmas music and set to work.




Nathan was telling Jonah what the tree means. He started with the shape being symbolic of the Trinity.

Daddy: "Jonah, do you know why we have a Christmas tree?"

Jonah: "Um... I dunno!"

D: "Well... there's a story for it. First of all, what shape is it?"

J: "Uhhh... a rectangle."





Hm... it is awfully rectangular...




Oh, what a sad, little cheesball of a Christmas tree. We always joke that our Christmas trees look like dumpy old ladies dressed up in drag. And they always do. And we like them just fine.

Advertising After My Own Heart

Reason For My Strong Dislike of Michigan in the Winter, # 43,589

She's got her butt in the road, and she ain't goin' in er out.




I just wanted to go get some milk.

Winter's Day Occupation

Okay, maybe not a day... more like 6.4 minutes, but I'll take whatever I can get.

Fancy a Trip to Australia?

Cuz I think that might be just about SOUTH enough for me...



I like the story of the guy who strapped a snow shovel onto the hood of his car and started to drive south. When people started consistently asking what that thing was on his car, he knew he'd gone far enough.

I think I know why I've been having a hard time blogging lately. It's cold in here where my computer is. I spend most of the day with the woodstove practically attached to my behind (not sure how I get anything done that way... I do have a problem in that every time I walk by it, I have to stop and roast my tooshie.) Last winter, the dining table was still right next to the woodstove, so I had my laptop permanently parked there and I could easily sit there and edit photos and blog about them. Now I have to brave the cold office, or bring my computer out by the fire with involves pulling up a chair to sit in plus a chair to set the computer on AND unplugging my machine from it's multitudinous USB hookups and caaaaarryiiiing it allll the way oooout into the liiiiving room and plugging it in and then fighting with my finicky wireless card that only connects according to it's whim of the moment. Frankly, that's an awful lot of work to do. I know. My life is hard. (Hello? Wireless network in my house? And I don't take advantage of it at every available oportunity? I'm a freeek. And whiny.)

So I'll try to do better.

I got all my Christmas mailing done yesterday. It was insane. But now it's done. Also, I just have to say-- I'm so thankful for Flat Rate Boxes. Yay, even though I still did spendethed my birthright on priority shipping.

Fortunately, I'm not quite self-effacing enough to post pictures (because I forgot to take them) of the aftermath in my house after all the baking, wrapping, boxing etc. that was involved in getting all my mailing done in one day.

But now that it's done, I can relax and enjoy Christmas (e-hem) and get started on a long winter of whining on my blog about winter! Weee!

Miscommunitationing

I just went over to an Amish neighbor's house to get some maple syrup. I asked for it and she asked how much I wanted. "A couple quarts." I said.

"Just a couple? So a half gallon?" she said and sent her son out to the ice-house to get it.

Hmmm, that's different, I thought, usually they have it right down in the basement... and they must only have larger bottles left instead of quart jars...

"I thought I might be too late in the year to get it," I said. "I'm glad you still have some."

"Oh yeah, we just made it a month or so ago and it keeps well in the ice house. We had to run over to get some more ice down the road, but it's keeping just fine."

"Oh wow! I've never heard of that!" I thought they made it all in the spring... "I didn't know it would keep like that so you can just cook it up when you want some..."

She gave me a quizzical look, "Well, as long as you have ice... I would suppose you could do the same with the freezer..."

Just then her son came in with... a jug of apple cider.

Confusion reigned for a moment, then I realized my slip and sputtered, "Oh! Uh... I mean... Did I say 'cider'? Oh dear, I meant to say 'syrup'! Oh, I'm so sorry... I must have seen your sign for 'cider for sale' and I had that in my head..."

She enjoyed a hearty laugh at my expense and went down to the basement for some syrup. "I thought it was strange that you wanted a couple quarts of cider" she said and chuckled some more.


Now go back and read that again with the understanding that she thought I wanted cider and laugh at what a ding-dong I appeared to be (and AM, actually...).


Oh, how we all did laugh.

No Whats?

Jonah and I were mixing up tortilla dough for supper. Jonah got out the rolling pins.

Me: No, we don't need those yet. The dough has to rest a while. Put them back for now.

Jonah: But!

Me: No "buts". Just put them back until we need them.

Jonah: Not any "buts"?

Me: None.

Pause.

Jonah: But there are butts in here! In our pants!

Me, stifling giggle: In our pants?

Jonah: Yeah. Where the poop is.

Shakeup

I've been thinking about Christmas lately. Okay, I'm thinking about it pretty much all the time because I have about approximately nine hundred (900) projects in the works right now that have to do with Christmas. Most of them I can't talk about here because I'm not in the habit of spilling beans in public. Especially my own beans. (That explains the void of photos on my blog these days as I can't really take pictures of things that I'm doing... Ha- I knew there had to be a reason for that...)

But just for example, there's the pile of pine branches and grapevines on my porch waiting to be made into wreaths. I've never made wreaths before, but I was at the dump (we go there frequently, being scrounges and all) and someone had just trimmed up one hurk of an awesome yard. I had to climb around on a mountain of brush, but I pulled out plenty of branches and vines (sadly, I passed up the red berry branches because they were sporting some especially wicked-looking thorns... Yeah, sometimes even I wimp out on DIY projects. Ya gotta draw the line somewhere.) as well as a pile of bamboo. Someone grew bamboo right here in southern Michigan! And then cut it down and dumped it at the dump. And I was in the right place at the right time to snag it. It will become vine-support structures in my garden next summer.

Oh, and yesterday was our church Christmas party/decorating party. We decorated the tree (during which, Jonah dropped a glass ball ornament and it -POP- shattered on the floor. He cried in mortification for a full 10 minutes, despite our reasurrances that it was just an accident and it was okay), sang carols, held a hilarious white-elephant gift exchange, and ate lots of goodies.

But where was I going with this? Boy was that ever a rabbit-trail... Oh yes, I've been thinking about Christmas lately...

Actually, the previous examples only serve to prove my point (which I'll get to, soon... really). We always seem to want to skip to the fun part and start celebrating Christmas before it's really the Christmas season. We tend to celebrate Christmas starting after Thanksgiving, kicking it off with the societally sacred celebration of Black Friday, emphasizing how commercialized the holiday has become. Then we shop and plan and party and by Christmas Day, we're spent and tired and sick of Christmas. Of course, this is the logical conclusion of a misspent holiday seaon.

The truth is that Christmas Day marks the true beginning of the Christmas season. If we remembered the real purpose of the Christmas celebration, maybe we wouldn't have this problem. You can't celebrate an event that hasn't happened yet, can you? Would we sing "Halleluiah, He is Risen!" on Good Friday? That would be weird and unnatural as Holy Week is the time to remember Christ's suffering and death. Neither can we say "The Savior is born!" during Advent-- the time when we remember the wait for the promised Messiah.

Now, here's a caveat, one which certain readers will be sure to point out to me as Nathan already has: of course, the Savior has already come, so it's not wrong to proclaim it any time of the year. I'm not trying to make a new rule, but only point out the traditional uses of the seasons and what we remember and learn in them.

So here's the course of events that we're supposed to be celebrating this time of year: Advent begins four Sundays before Christmas and during that time we remember the wait and preparations for the birth of the Savior-- the prophesies, the announcement to Zacharias, the announcement to Mary, the birth of John, etc. We also use this as a parallell for waiting for Christ's second coming at the end of the world. Then we have the birth of the Savior, which is actually Christmas Day, but we start that on Christmas Eve. Traditionally, Christmas Day is the real beginning of the Christmas season since that's when we're celebrating that our Savior has been born! You know the "12 days of Christmas"? That count begins on Christmas day and goes until Epiphany (January 6), which is when we remember the wise men that visited Jesus and begin the Epiphany season. During the real Christmas season we also celebrate the New Year, which in the church calendar is for the naming and circumscision of Jesus.

So, with all that in mind, I've been trying to find ways to celebrate a little more closely to the intended meaning of the seasons.

Now I suddenly understand (duh) why the Christmas tree (along with the other decorations) was traditionally put up on Christmas Eve. There is no way we could do our tree on Christmas Eve since we have church services to prepare for, but we decided that we will put up our tree on the fourth sunday in Advent ("Joyful Sunday") and leave the lights off until Christmas Eve. (The funny thing about this is that we do this in our church and it's always bugged me because I like to see the tree with the lights. But now I get it, so I'm okay with it.)

I tried to talk Nathan into changing the way we open gifts-- maybe we each open one each day throughout the 12 days of Christmas (till Epiphany or they're all opened, whichever comes first), but he really likes the Christmas Eve traditon of opening everything in one big bash.

My other idea is not listening to Christmas music during Advent, but this is hard for me. (Well impossible if you go into any stores or turn on a radio station...) I like Christmas music! But on the other hand, I get kind of tired of it by Epiphany, and looking forward to playing my favorite Christmas CDs might serve to emphasize the "waiting" of Advent. I'd love to build up a little collection of Advent music, but that might be considerably difficult to do.

So the purpose of all this is just to try to adjust my thinking away from the commercialized version of Christmas that is so prevalent around us. I find myself easily getting lost in my "to do" list of baking and and decorating and of gathering, making, wrapping, and shipping gifts, of making and sending Christmas cards, of planning church activities, etc. etc. etc. I want to find things that help us keep the POINT in mind. And I'm hoping to be able to use these traditions to teach Jonah the real meanings and lessons of the Advent and Christmas seasons and try to prevent them getting totally lost in the "gimmies" always floating around us. I hope that we can always use the symbols and traditions for teaching Jonah, instead of only doing them because they're fun or they're what we've always done. And of course, it might help if we get the order right...

Ode in Couplets

Oh, water softener, water softener,
Why can't you just work... oftener?

You gave us a wonderful week!
Your praises I often did speak!

But with a devious wink
You went back on the blink.

"Call company" you say
But we don't want to pay!

I went in for a shower
My soap, it lacked power.

My laundry is rusty,
The dishwater's musty.

And orange is the bowl of my toilet--
Oh! How I just knew you'd spoil it!

I should send you to scrap!
You're nothing but crap!

So I'm throwing a fit
You big piece of... garbage.

Daily Delight

A coffee drinker, I am not. Not at all. Except mochas made with half'n'half. I'll drink that kind of coffee, but coffee dripped into a pot? I've never seen the appeal. My husband, on the other hand, is part camel (um, a coffee-drinking camel) and even drinks it before bed so that he can relax and go to sleep. Yeah, I don't get it, either. I'm pretty sure it feeds his super powers. Or, I know! He's immortal and needs his elixer like the Jakie Chan in Forbidden Kingdom needed his wine. But Nathan's elixer is coffee.

Anyway...

I don't drink coffee, but I do have my vice:



Mmmmm... What is a winter in Michigan with out tea? UNBEARABLE.

Aditional pleasure in this ritual comes from the lovely tea pot and mugs that my Mom made. It tastes better from a real tea pot than it does from a canning jar.

My Mom used to have tea with a friend of hers from time to time. I remember them arguing about whether the tea should be straight or amended. My Mom was in the "black and strong" camp and her friendwas in the "honey and evaporated milk" camp. She used to go on about how her friend only "scared the water with the tea bag" whereas Mom would let it soak in there for 20 minutes or so. The result was remarkably like... well, like coffee. Black and bitter. But I, as the dutiful daughter, thought that surely Mom must be right and I tried to drink it that way. And I tried to like it. Really, I did.

I know, "to each his own." But here are my rules for making tea:

1)The water must be freshly boiled, but not allowed to continue at a rolling boil.

2)Use good tea. Not from the grocery store. I have yet to find anything even remotely drinkable at a grocery store. And no fruity-froo-froo, either. Here's what I drink and love:



Seriously, if you haven't tried this stuff, you haven't lived. It's deeelicious, as is the orange flavor from the same company. The flavoring is very light, but intoxicating and not fruity or overpowering. Mostly, you taste the tea. Also, do not confuse this with herbal "teas" which are actually herbal "infusions". And I like them in their purposes, but generally, tea from a real tea plant is the way to go. And organic because non-organic tea will concentrate high levels of toxins (from pesticides) and flouride. White tea has the lowest levels of flouride (don't listen to what "they" say, the stuff is poison) which tea plants tend to absorb.

3) Let the tea bag steep no more than 3 minutes! This is an important step because it's not coffee, people! It's not supposed to grab the back of your throat and make your uvula wrinkle in agony.

4)Remove the tea bag. That's included in step 3, really, but I'm trying to emphasize the point, here You wouldn't leave the grounds in your coffee, right? Take. out. the. bag.

5) Pour into a pretty mug. I don't insist on tea cups because I'm don't have any tea cups. And I'm a crunchy, granola momma and I'm "earthy" that way. Also-- no extending of the pinky. That's just silly.

6) Add a blip of fresh, raw cream first, then a drizzle of raw honey.

7) Stir.

8) Sip.

9) Repeat step 8 until the cup is empty.

10) Repeat steps 5-9 one more time. Or two. Whatever.


This is the only thing that gets me through winter days in the frozen North. Of southern Michigan.

That and my daily cod liver oil.

Also, this tea doesn't have enough caffeine to make me twitchy, but it does have enough to banish the fog in my head that I get when my inherited insomnia acts up and my brain won't shut up and let me sleep but prefers to keep alarming me about things I already know I need to do intermingled with thoughts of clever scorpions, naked mole rats and underarm deodorant for horses.

Mmm... time for another cuppa.

Getting in a Christmas Spirit

To get into a Christmas mood today, we baked gingerbread cookies.

I have mixed feelings about this endeavor.

In fact, I kinda hate it, and yet I do it every year.




Don't get me wrong... I love cookies. I usually love making cookies. I mean really-- cookies. Nothing better. I could eat them all day.





And doing them with a silly little person --rolling, cutting, baking, playing with the cookie cutters-- of course it's exasperating fun!




But when I get to the decorating part--



--I start wondering why I bother. I don't like making and dealing with the sticky frosting and getting it into a bag with the decorating tip (not to mention "wasting" a perfectly good ziploc bag... oh be quiet. I'm weird that way.). Then my hand gets tired and then the frosting gets too soft from my body heat and it starts running and spurting everywhere and then I get it all over my hands and there's the "sticky" part again and then Jonah bumps me and the gingerbread guys have mustaches and arg I'm starting to stick to everything and the lines are all squiggly. I'm to the point where I could almost -almost- buy those little tubes of ready-to-use decorating frosting. But I'm too much of a frugal, do-it-myselfer that I can't quite bring myself to buy those. Why buy something when I am completely capable of making it? Besides, I live out in the booney and can't just run to the store for things. So I make frosting and put it in little baggies with those decorating tips.

Ugh. But I continue to do cut-and-decorated cookies every Christmas because they're fun for Jonah (or whatever other little person I've borrowed for the purpose of making myself crazy with these cookies) and because... well... it's Christmas and Christmas always seems to involve a trip to the looney bin.

But Jonah had fun and we did something Christmasy together and now I can move on to the more fun Christmas cookies that don't involve frosting.

You Know the Old Saying...

... "Measure twice, cut once."

Right.

Whoever came up with that failed to mention the part about using the same end of the ruler both times.

Okay, well, maybe I'm the only one who needs that reminder... Still.

Also-- why can't I work on making Christmas gifts in, oh, I dunno... July, maybe, instead of December?

Hilarity

Jonah has been really into reading a Calvin and Hobbes book, Yukon Ho!, that I picked up at a thrift store. He just pours over it, often giggling incessantly. It's hilarious to me to hear this constant chuckling, especially since he's laughing because, well, he actually gets it... Like this:




That gem really got him going--

To The Batcave!

He lurks in the shadows...




Relishing cover of darkness...




...for the perusing of comic books...



...oh, and also so that his mother won't yell at him to Get Some Pants On, Already!