Leave a Message After the Beep

Hi. Sorry I missed your call but I'm away for the weekend having a much overdue girly weekend with this fabulous lady over here. We have a lot to catch up on. I've never met two of her children. She will look at pictures of mine as they are staying home with the man who promised to love, honor and cherish me even after I leave him to fend for himself and those precious beams of hellfire for an entire weekend for the first time ever in the history of bearing his children. Can you tell I'm not at all nervous about this prospect? Dear God, please let them all live and remember to brush their teeth in that order. Or I'm fine with just letting them live and I'll take them to the dentist on Monday. Thank you. Hail Mary.)

Anyway, back to the Girly Weekend- Ah yes, we're going to drink a lot (of hot chocolate), eat a lot (of lettuce wrapped stuff), and listen to lots of music (this one's true) for two days straight and probably one really late night. I am very much looking forward to getting away for a couple of days. Even the drive alone is sounding more and more delicious by the minute. Although I'm happy to spend time away for a bit, I'm already missing my family. Life is funny that way. You go a little hysterical living it and you miss it even before you walk out the door. At least they'll have plenty of snow to keep themselves busy (oh Dear God, snow! Please help him remember where the gloves, hats, and warm jackets are. Fleeces won't cut it. And lastly, please jack the heat back up when he turns it down to frigid. Thank you. Hail Mary.)

* Editor's note: For the record, Abby's donning an outfit picked out by her Daddy in the picture above.

Me: (after seeing the Striped Wonder with my own eyes)
Honey. Really?

Him: What? Is it bad? Stripes go with stripes, right?

Me: Yes they do.

If you're in prison.

Him: You're not funny.

Me: Abby's outfit is. That should be enough.

Busted

Probably the real reason Grayson isn't in preschool yet:

































I'd miss him too much around the house.


































And so would Abby.






































But not Sadie.

Pile On

I'm pretty sure this picture here defeats the purpose of owning a coat rack. Now the coat rack looks exactly as the hallway below it once did. Which was why I bought the little buggar in the first place. That would be negative Home Improvement points for me. Yep, same problem...just five feet higher. (Please notice the pitiful white and red fleece that is at the "bottom" of this jacket frenzy. Poor thing, at this rate, it will never see the light of February.)

P.S. The above picture compliments of our in house photographer, Grayson, or "GoldenEye" as I now like to call him.

The Old Switcheroo

In an attempt to get past these night terrors and to get Grayson a happy kind of sleepy, last night his Daddy read him two stories before bed, no sugar and no TV. No dice; still very awake and restless. Then I was enlisted to read him two stories. Still not one yawn or sleepy gesture. Then I made up three stories that all involved some sort of magic carpet, roller coaster loop and castle. I definitely need new material. Thankfully he didn't seem to notice or care. However, even after all our parental story glory he was still having a hard time winding down. Finally, he requested we play the "I'm you and you're me" game. It's pretty simple without too many bells and whistles so I obliged on the one condition that it only last two minutes. This many. One. Two. He agreed.

"Grayson," he says with his finger wagging in my face (note to self: stop wagging finger in his face), "you have to eat all your weg a tubbles before you can have a treat."

"Noooooooooo, I don't want toooooo." I groan, laying it on thick.

"Yes, Grayson," he stresses with a hand on his hip. Clearly someone is enjoying his new place on the family totum pole. "You have to eat something hellshlee (healthy) first."

"All right, Mommy." I acquiesce quickly.

"No, I'm Mommy. You're Grayson." he says with a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"Okay, Mommy," I agree.

"No. Wait. Ummm. Yeah. You have to be Grayson so now you call me Mommy." I can see how this is becoming confusing for a three year old who just today learned how to pull up his own underwear. I step up my game:

"Okay, you are Mommy. Can I have gummies? I reeeeealllllllly want gummies. GUMMIES!!!" I'd like the thank the Academy.

"Grayson," he says with exaggerated worry, "I don't want you to get sick in your belly."

Wow he's good at this.

Then comes the dramatic pause. I'm speechless with anticipation of his next move.

"Grayson?" It is a big question with something serious behind it.

"Yes, Mommy?" I respond with equal sobriety. I'm super curious now.

"I will not send you to school. You will stay here with me and with Abby. Forever."

Ah, this kid is masterful. He is playing me like a fiddle. Two can play at this game.

"Oh no? What if I want to go to school and meet new friends?" I argue.

"You don't." He finishes. "And you don't have to eat your weg a tubbles any moren. You can eat gummies for dinner every night. And you don't even has to brush your teef again never."

Applause.
Curtains.

He'd like to thank the Academy.

I Will Make a Bridge

Seems just when you work through teething, new big boy beds, and Pull-Ups, you've got another rite of passage before becoming a member of the Dubious Toddler Club. Nightmares.
Or Frightmares as I'm calling them in this case. Poor little Grayson can't catch a break lately. About twenty minutes after we tuck him into his bed (sleeping bag) at night, he sits up with eyes wide open and cries out mournfully until my brain registers what's going on.

The first time it happened, I thought it was an isolated incident. He cried out to his general public, then a more specific order: "Mommy, play!" My hair completely stood on end. Not sure why but those two words together at that time of night was more unsettling than if he had yelled, "Ahhhhh, German Shepherds!" By the time I reached him, (maybe 30 seconds later) he was a sweaty wavy little mess. I scooped him up into my arms and rocked us both until I felt his muscles unwind and heartbeat become less enthusiastic. He asked me something but I couldn't decipher the message. All real words but in some kind of foreign order that sounded like he had taken an interest in Latin or Portuguese. His eyes flashed open so I assumed he was wide awake. Not the case. Though his eyes were looking directly at mine, he was looking through me. Shiver. Kind of horror movie-ish to have your little boy speak crazy while not really seeing you at all.

Then it happened again the next night. And the next. Then the next.

Pretty much without fail, Grayson hops up yelling incoherently until I hold him in my arms. But it's not always the stuff of horror. Two nights ago he wakes up suddenly to ask me what we are building. I tell him we are building a new house and thankfully that is an acceptable response for him to lay back down and continue his dream without discussing the "snow pond" or "outside tree" into confused oblivion.

Last night was the best one yet. Again, about twenty minutes after drift-off we hear him crying that sorrowful plea for Mommy to be there NOW. I curl my body around his shaky frame until he grows still and quiet. A few seconds later he takes my face with his small hands and peers (totally asleep, SO weird.) right into my eyes. "Mommy? Will you make a bridge?"

Hmmm. This is new. Kind of metaphorical. Let's roll.

"Yes, baby. I'm making one right now. Everything's all right. I'm working on it as we speak. Don't worry."

"You're making a bridge now, Mommy?"

(not sure if I overdid it with the urgency of construction) "Yes, Grayson. Mommy is on it. Building it right this second. Consider it done."

"You're a good mommy, Mommy."

And then I died a million tiny lovely deaths inside while I kissed his sweet speck of nose over and over again until I couldn't see him through my watery eyes anymore.

I will make that bridge. I will make that bridge out of Q-tips and mascara if I have to but it will be made if it means helping him through this awful Frightmare phase that is robbing him of the sleep he has rightfully earned. Little kids shouldn't have it so rough. Their dreams, especially their innocent dreams, should be untouchable havens of puppies, gummy worms, and park slides. I will make that bridge to make it so for him if it kills me. Or I run out of mascara. Whichever happens first.

Benches and Elevators

One of the greatest things about moving is exploring new surroundings. Although I grew up about 35 minutes away from where we are now, everything seems new again through the eyes of our children.

The other day we went to The Aquarium with my childhood friend and her family. Though I've been there at least a dozen times while growing up, I saw a few things I never noticed before. I never noticed they had a "rest area" next to the gift shop. This is where Abby had a chance to run her "being backpacked all day" legs out for a few minutes. I never noticed there were bathrooms on each floor. Grayson's half pint sized bladder appreciated that courtesy very much. And elevators! Did you know that "Special Needs Elevator" can mean two combined families with dripping umbrellas and four twisty children under the age of three? Oh yes it can.

And the aquatic life was different too. Where I once skipped right over to the big money like sharks and jellyfish, this time I had a chance to notice the D Listers: tree frogs shining lime green beneath their heat rocks and freckled coppery snakes coiling around a same colored tree limb. When I bent down to look through the aquariums with Grayon, we were met with a small yellow thing puckering at us like a gilled Angelina. This Pretty hovered and smooched the glass for at least three minutes before darting off. Next were the sting-rays; the gorgeous effortless sting-rays. Grayson found one in a corner, all by himself and according to him, it most likely in "time out." Misery does love company.



















The aquarium even supplied a mini TV room! Five minutes before the dolphin show started, we ducked into a small sitting area (with nice long benches) where Animal Planet kept Grayson riveted and not ping ponging through the massive crowd in the hallway. This TV room allowed for a quick reset button as well as a perfectly timed bottle for Abby who was beginning to lose her cool with being toted around like a bagged lunch.

The dolphin show was impressive, or so I heard because I was busy hiking the stairwell with Miss Mt. Everest. We had to give her kudos for her lasting this long, however, and The Husband and I tag teamed so I was able to sit next to a completely ensconced Grayson and catch the last few waves of Baily, the one year old dolphin. I guess it's the mom in me but all I wanted at that point in the afternoon was for Baily to be off the clock and swimming happily back to her baby pool for a nice long nap. It's what my kids needed and precisely what they got as soon as they completed the last leg of our trip: puddle jumping three blocks back to the parking garage.
Can't think of a better way to end a day as seen through the eyes of our children.

Love & Marriage, Bachelor Style

10 pm last night, The Husband hands me his latest paper (Command & Staff school) due today at noon.

Him: Edit please?
Me: K.

After making some old school deletion marks, circling a couple comma splices and fixing one spelling mistake all from the warm confines of my I-Just-Wanna-Read-New-Moon-Now-nestbed I returned the corrected version back to him.

Me: Looks good.
Him: Thanks. What did you think?
Me: I think it looks good. I have no idea what I just read. You Marines are way smart.
Him: (not sure if I'm serious or not. I was.) Hmph.

20 minutes later

Him: Let's watch Bachelor.
Me: Let's.
Him: Who's going psycho tonight?
Me: Who's not is the question.

A few minutes into the show.

Me: Was that girl's boob out?
Him: Who? Ali?
Me: I have to rewind that. I think you could see that girl's boob.
Him: Yeah. We should rewind that. Was it Ali?
Me: I don't know her name. Wait, how do you know her name?
Him: Roll back the video tape.
Me: Yep, definitely her boob.
Him: Ali's boob.

A few more minutes later into the show:

Him: That one's going home. She's a nutcase.
Me: Which one, Michelle?
Him: I don't know her name.
Me: That's because you don't find her attractive. (Pausing DVR) Which one do you like, Honey?
Him: Which one do I like or which one do I think is hot?
Me: Nevermind, I can see that is two totally separate questions...
Him: Ali's boob.
Me: You're a freak.

After Jake and Vienna went bungee jumping off a bridge:

Him: He screamed like a girl.
Me: He's a woman.

At the rose ceremony:

Me: Oh yeah, Crazy Number Two is going home tonight.
Him: Ya think?
Me: Definitelyyy-yyy.
Him: I think the crying blonde is out.
Me: Noooo, he's digging the blondes.
Both of us: What? Who the @!#! is Jesse?
Him: Who is Jesse? Did she just come on the show two minutes ago?
Me: We were distracted by Ali's boob.
Him: Ali's boob.

Credits and then I flip over to BRAVO.

Him: Housewives!
Me: You're a woman.

The End.

Must Love Dogs

Ever since Grayson came along I've been uncharacteristically afraid of dogs. Sure, I was bitten twice in my life (and one time really badly on my backside!) but never was I attacked so severely that it was something to "get over," yet there I was - Miss former veterinarian's assistant - afraid of dogs. Mostly big dogs. That in and of itself isn't a huge problem. There aren't that many big dogs in the children's section at Target. It is, however, an issue when your mom happens to have two of the biggest available canine breeds (two Bull Mastiffs and one Great Dane) in her house. You can imagine how often I visit with my children. Close to never and that's nothing short of shameful. She, T and my little brother have been to see us more times than I can count already so it is high time I lose the dog phobia and get over myself!

And get over myself is exactly what I did a couple of weeks ago. I am pleased to show you pictures of my greatest personal feat this year. And I'm also pleased to inform you there weren't any hineys marred, chewed, or mauled in the making of this post. Just some very belated tummy rubs and lots of relief!














This big beautiful creature is Harry. I call him Harold even though that's not his full name. He is totally as sweet and lovable as he looks.















Here we have T showing me how unscary is the belly of Sir Harold.















and Hallelujah! I may be shaking like a leaf in October but once I made physical contact, I realized the fear was all in my head and Harry was not going to lurch toward my jugular like Edward Cullen (sigh) but instead is only interested in more snuggle time.















This is T's (handsome and very sweet himself) son who happens to be a Marine (we like that around here.) He just got back from many months in Afghanistan. Hoorah, baby. (His brother is in the National Guard and is currently in Iraq for another few months. Do they take after their dad -Ret. Col. in the Army or what?) A is loving on superdog Zeke who has a tendency to take you by the hand and lead you to the couch for more love sessions when he's ignored. Zeke, that is, not A although I'm sure some of the ladies out there wouldn't mind if it was A!

Here's a couple bonus pictures of our visit to my mom's house. I love being there and miss my mom, T, my brother, Harry, Zeke, Runtly (not shown) and other assorted creatures very much. It's good to go "home" and I'm so proud to know I'm no longer afraid to run with the big dogs!!

How cute is my brother?














How hot is my mom?














And of course, I have to throw in some sugarplums for good measure.














Nevermind that this one is about to play with that Plug-In on the wall.

Not QuiteThat Tired

So the Fabulous Foursome is once again in the car on our way to the Dollar Store today. (We eat through rubber bouncy balls like jellybeans around here.) We come to a red light. I rub my eyes, turn my neck to the side to stretch it and - kazing!- "Ow."

Really? When did this happen? When did stretching my neck to the side become an actual exercise in pain? I so need to get back to working out. And Pledge these dusty bones off before they ossify in to stone.

"I'm getting old."

"What, Mommy?" the backseat says.

"Nothin' Bud."

"What did you said?" the backseat is still concerned.

"Nothing, Honey. Mommy feels old is all I said."

"Oh. Are you going to go to..." he searches his filing cabinet of "heard once but never used" phrases and locks in on the one that fits this equation, "to doggie heaven, Mommy?"

Doggie heaven. It's what we talked about the other day. I mentioned it - sort of - when chatting with him about dogs who are getting up in their years (ie: our sweet newly 8 year old Sadie) and what happens to them when they get very very old. Guess that pretty much sums up his thought bubble, eh?

"No Honey, I'm not that good." And not that old, thank you very much.

I think we should forgo Costco and go directly to mass this Sunday. Bless his sweet little confused heart. Doggie heaven. If only.

I DeLurked today, will you?

In the blog-o-sphere I hear it's Delurking Day which means whoever's (whosoever's?) blog you read, you must comment on. Or else. Or else the day will tick on exactly as it is going to anyway so you're safe here. However, if you like this little fluffball of a blog and don't usually comment I'd be ever so curious to hear from you and see who might be more inclined to leave tracks today just because I'm asking for a roll call. Asking nicely, not threatening to hunt you down via Sitemeter maps or anything extreme. To be fair and just so you know, I already "had to" leave three comments out there on blogs I delurk regularly. They were benign comments without wit or color. I'm having a taupe day and can't pretend it's fuchsia. You're allowed the same blase palette if you so desire. As always, thanks for stopping over and hope you come again for another visit soon.

Evolution of a Double Portrait

This is what happens when I try to snap a photo of my two children. Not three. Not eight plus Kate with New Hair. Not even two with a hideaway canine. Just two little children with short legs and a small personal radius. I can't say for sure but I'd guess herding buffalo is easier and produces better results.



































































And behold the grand finale and my personal favorite.

(I'm going to get it Warholled. And then hang it above the fireplace because there is no sense in celebrating an anomalous perfect smile and sweet embrace of a Sears portrait when the true essence of our two bugbites (said with love) is right here: Prince of Quirkness meets OhTearyMe.)

Two Conversations

Two nights ago in the kitchen while making dinner:

Me: Grayson now thinks he can throw flames from his fingers. In addition to the "sharp claws."

Husband: Cool.

Me: I love his superpowers.

Husband: Can I throw this out? (holding something lumpy in a Tupperware containter.)

Me: What would your superpower be?

Husband: I'm pitching it.

Me: Yeah. I don't know either. It's a big decision.

Husband: How about this one? (holding up a pear sliced in half also in a Tupperware container.)

Me: I'd probably just waste mine and opt for super cleaning powers or something dumb.

Husband: I know. That's what Ziplocs are for.


Seriously, we should just email each other from now on.

White Elephant Crew

This is my dad's side of the kid family tree: MiMi and PopPop's children with their children. It was as fun (and as loud) as it looks. The best part of this picture? My dad says Grayson looks like David Archuleta. I can't disagree.

Will Power Outage

Damn. Cadbury Eggs are out already. And I thought I was doing so great avoiding McLattes, peppermint patties, and leftover Christmas candy but the Cadbury Egg? You might as well hook me up to the Keurig and shoot the sugary yolk directly into my veins. Game over. Oh, and for the record, I also lost the recent will power struggle on those off road dirt colored half Ugg/ half moccasin Mommy boots. I found some in my size on the clearance rack and so now me, the UghMom boots and several half eaten (I'm no monster) Cadbury Eggs can be found somewhere in this house with a blissed out grin and a big fat vacuous hole where my resolve once was.













(Not a Cadbury Egg and not even recent. It's a 7 month Grayson but don't you want to eat him too?)

What I Want to Remember When I'm 80

Really bad dancing and all.

Choosing Words Carefully

The other day we drove past a cemetery. Since it was the holiday season this cemetery looked like a Christmas card with its poinsettias, sparkling winter wreaths and assorted bouquets. Grayson noticed. In fascination he asked, "Mommy, what is dat?"

Uh oh. I better not screw this up.

"Umm. It's...well...it's... it's..... a resting place," I say almost whispering.
"For who?" he does not hesitate.
"For ummm...well...for people who aren't here anymore. People who love them go there to remember them. Sometimes they bring flowers to put on their name." Jesus help me. Bring flowers to put on their name? Is that the best I can do? Wow. How do I explain this one...did I say enough? Did I say too much? Will he understand it all?

"Oh. Do you know what my fav'rit colors are?" Thankfully, terrain I can work with and also not simultaneously hyperventilate.

********

Three Days Later

We're in the car and pass the same cemetery and Grayson again asks, "What is dat?" I sense he already knows the answer but I tell him anyway.

"It's a resting place for people who aren't here any more." There, almost painless.

"Yes, day put f-owers ("flowers" - blasted word blends) on people who are dead."

"What did you say?" the shock chokes my volume and I whisper again, "What did you say?"

"I said day put f-owers on dead people. Then the tings (flowers maybe?) go in and make dem better so day come alive and feel all better with f-owers on dem."

What the??? "Who told you that?"

"Daddy did."

God bless you, Major. Leave it to a Marine to give it to him straight (Well, aside from the flowers bringing them back to life again. Another day, another conversation.)

Tonight I will do the dishes and walk the dog.

This Little Thing...

...will be married and dressing her own babies someday.
Impossible.
My heart won't live through it.
Neither will her father's.

Situation Crate & Barrel

The big outing today was to Crate & Barrel to find an organizational unit for the myriad of toys in this place. I know, I've been harping on this "organizational unit" for months now. I'm sure people purchase homes, vehicles and new tatas with less consideration than this but I haven't been able to pull the trigger as of yet (on the toy chest, not the toy chest). Today was my big day. We have this $250.00 gift card I've been holding hostage in my wallet since 2002. No joke. It's all faded in the crease and probably holds zero value anymore but I have to try. The suspense is killing me. Will they honor it? Will they laugh in my tardy for the party face? Will they call the McCops and whisk me away to the underground cubicle that smells of cheese and stale air freshener? I must find out. We must find out.

SO, with all children and of course dog in tow, we minivanned it to the nearest C & B store. There was a little odd shaped parking lot so we zigged and zagged until I realized we had a situation. Yep, we were stuck. But of course. Why wouldn't we be? I put us in reverse and slowly scooched out of our "spot" while hearing the tell tale "kkkkkkkkkhhhhh" on the back panel. Driver side. Mirror too.

Stop me? Hellsno. We trucked right into a plus size parking spot and this big ole Momma heaved we three upstairs via elevator coffin.

Because it was post magical-45-minute-kid-friendly-window time, I had to hold Abby on my hip, push her stupidass stroller, while making sure a tired and yawny Grayson wasn't touching any chachkes. Did I mention we were in Crate & Barrel? There are more chachkes in that joint than there are any crates or any barrels. He did well, however and I timed out before either of them could.

We bought nothing. We never even asked about the ancient artifact gift card. The suspense was outmatched by the passionate desire to rest my kinked up left shoulder blade.

Maybe fourteen minutes later we were back downstairs in the parking lot uploading everyone again into their very hot and all too itchy respective places for the ride home. Suck, do I.

Admittedly: fastest most useless errand running in the history of running errands.

Tomorrow we are setting our sights on some live (kid) music by 11am. Oh yeah. Nightmare City. Perhaps you want to wager some time tables? Twenty-two minutes? Do I hear thirty? Right. Let's not get insane here. Clearly, I should have some macaroni crafts planned. Probably should get the vehicle washed too before my husband comes home pre-darktime one night and wonders what sort of concrete pylon got fresh with the side of it.

2009 Reflections Cont'd

• Sometimes bad things happen to really good people- friend in S.MD
• Vampires are sexy- Stephanie Meyer
  
• Contentment does not equal complacency- me (yay!)
• Blogging is therapy- (internet bloggities)
• Love is an empty sink and tidy living room- Husband
  
• If kids are asking "those" questions then they are ready for "those" answers- John McClain
• Great hugs are more memorable than good conversations- Uncle Jimmy
• It's important to know your family history- PopPop
• A card in the mail is worth three on the internet- CRK
  
• Simple is often better- Husband
• Children are little so bend (literally & figuratively) - Grayson, Abigail and other Tinies I've had the fortune to hang with over the year.
  

Thanks for reading...I'd love to hear what your reflections are too, whether they are old or new!

Along the Way

No New Year's Resolutions for me because I tend to rebel instead of embrace. Instead, I give you:
Old Year's Reflections

2009- Things I Learned Along the Way (and Their Unlikely Sources):

• Get up and try again with a smile on your face- Abby
• Be nicest to those closest to you- Grayson
• Being loyal is always charming- Sadie
• Value "Me" time- Husband
• Drink more wine- Nonie (my mom)
• Drink less coffee- my insomnia
• Assume people will like you and they will - a little book I bought in the "inspirational" section at supermarket
• Never assume a person is a person's job- Former Navy Seal check out guy at very same supermarket
• Don't rush through life, especially the lives of your children- all my fellow mommy blogger friends (thank you.)
  
• Do take lots of pictures - Christie Pecor
• Work hard and have really cool toys to play with when it's time to play- Eric Pecor
• Make time for a cup of cocoa with an old and dear friend - Kathleen
• Plan well for your future - Aunt Jen
• Don't deny yourself your own musical tastes. Especially when that happens to also coincide with your own passion. - Cris & A.Wendler
  
• Really listen and respond accordingly- Steve (my dad aka: Gpa T)
  
• Teamwork is best - The Wonder Pets
• Nobody really prefers salad- PopPop (my dad)
  
• Food prepared with love always tastes good -MiMi, Nammy & Pop
• Make time for your family even when it's inconvenient - Uncle Donnie & Uncle Alex
• Ask for help when you need it - Peter Mayhew (Anissa's incredible husband)
• Make yourself the journey- Jessica
• Be unpredictable but lovely- PJMom
• Get sideways and enjoy the view- not gonna rat them out but they know who they are :)
  
• Take more sunbaths- Sadie
• You have superpowers- Grayson
• Everything's funny-Abby

If you did not find your name on this list, please visit tomorrow as I did not even scratch the surface with these top 26 (or so?). Now, however, I must turn off the TV that has entertained a little boy who really wants to make cookies and a little girl who wouldn't mind one bit to eat them all in one sitting.

Big Red

Not sure why but this gives me a good feeling for the New Year. This big puff of lovely has taken a liking for our naked little tree in the back yard. I find him swooshing from the ground to the skeletal twiggy remains at least four times in one afternoon and just the sight of him makes me forget Christmas is over, my family members have traveled back to their respective homes, and my husband only has one more day of "vacation." Seeing his downy chest flicker in the wind reminds me that beauty is at my fingertips all the time...not only on holidays or special occasions. Now if I could coerce myself out of my comfy slippers we might be able to explore for more!

Sweet December, You Kicked My Arse

And here, in picture form is our Christmas Day as seen through Grayson's eyes. He's a budding photographer and I find his candor inspiring. Honestly though, I only helped him with the first (and last) one. The rest is all him. I realize I should be posting pictures of our visit with MiMi & Pop-Pop & Uncle Donnie & Uncle Alex or The Peggs Christmas Open House or our gigantic Sibling Reunion/Gift Exchange or New Year's celebration with the Pecors and I will but I'm still catching my breath. I feel like November shoulda warned me about December; what a bear- a fun beautiful lively eclectic lovable bear. So, here is a fly-on-the-wall close up view of our morning after Santa arrived. Please know I'm throwing my vanity out the window for art's sake. If morning hair and Sadie paws are his canvas then who am I to edit?