So, It's been a while, I know. Sorry about that. I went away for a while. No, the place I went didn't end in "psychiatric center" or "rehab" or anything like that. Nope, my wonderful In-laws took the whole family to a Beaches Resort in The Turks and Caicos. It was AMAZING. Amazing. Really. A beautiful resort. Beautiful room. Breath-taking beaches. Wonderful service. The weather was perfect. 80's, sunny, breezy. Perfect, really. We had a large cast of characters with us. Hubby's whole family - parents, brother, sister-in-law, grandmother, Aunt, Uncle, two cousins, and us. 13 of us to be exact. Lots of mishaps, crying, laughing, drinking and lots and lots and lots of EATING. I felt like I was on cloud nine for four whole nights and days. My children were adorable, my husband was attentive and funny. The sun was shining, the heavens sang down on us. God, was it wonderful. Exactly what I needed to get myself out of a late winter slump.
Then we came back. Funny thing about vacations - they end. My Mother generously offered to come the day after we got back to help with the kids and let me rest after a long and late flight home. Well, ok, so I begged her to come. It was still generous of her to show up! My kids were, ummm, how do I say? A handful once we got back? A little out of sorts? Absolute monsters? Yeah, I think the last one is most precise. The plan for my Mom was to come and stay overnight then leave the next morning. Well, the next morning I was hit with an absolutely blinding and debilitating migraine. The sweet angel I call Mom put me to bed, gave me pills to knock me out, and took care of the monsters, errr, girls while I slept. I was in and out of consciousness that day. So I heard bits and pieces of life for my Mom. Actually, I felt like I was easedropping on myself for a day. Varying voices wafted up to me. Calm but stern ones, yelps of surprise. Hollers of "No"! The ever present phrases of my life "why would you DO that?" and "stop". Eerily familiar statements that I've been saying way too often, but haven't heard my Mom utter in at least 25 years.
Feeling better that evening, I hung with my Mom on the couch, chatting for a while. She informed me that I don't give justice to this blog. That I could be writing so much more! She, in fact, could write an entire book on just that one day! The wrestling, the fighting, the fibbing, the messes, the running, screaming, screeching, playing, dancing, scratching,pulling hair, singing chaos that is a day with my dear D1 and D2! And, best of all, she has promised me to testify on my behalf that they do not act this way because I'm upstairs locked in my room manicuring my nails all day! Nope, the things they do really happen in split seconds. VALIDATION!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yay Me! So, if you don't believe one of my posts that says I really was just gone for a minute, then you go ask my Mommy!
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
Broken
So they broke me. I'm certain. Cracked beyond repair. My mind is gone. Spirit gravely injured.
I woke at the usual time today, in the usual way: D1 arriving in my room at 7:30. But from there, things went a little differently. First of all, D1 greeted me with poop ass. What a duty, to wipe someone else's bum before you've even had time to wipe the crusties from your eyes. Then, as I gained more consciousness, I thought to ask - "where are your pants?" to which she replied "downstairs". Hmmmm... downstairs, already?
And so after collecting D2, we go downstairs. Where I find the refrigerator door propped open with a step stool. Pudding and juice on the counter. Then I head into the family room - tv is on. My little angel is so self sufficient, isn't she?
Breakfast is a mess. A lot of crying, pushing and fighting over cheerios. There's probably more to say, but I'm already starting the process of blocking it all out.
Ok, bath time! I've heard other people remark that bath time is such a fun, relaxing time in their house. Huh. Can I move in? Bath time in our house involves Mommy yelling not to dump ALL the water out onto the floor, and then very aggressively washing hair, because I haven't found any other way to get it done.
Ok, next I dare hop on the computer for a few minutes. Check email, send an email, and see if I can find any sort of free activity for the morning. Afterwards I come downstairs to see D2 covered in red sharpie marker. Her new pink pants stained already. And don't even dare ask why I would leave a sharpie out again, yeah, I know, I should have learned my lesson after the carpet incident. Well, here's the thing: I didn't actually leave it out. Well, yeah, I did, sort of, if you include leaving it on top of the fridge as "out". The little angels now know how to scale the sides to get the things on top. I'm going to have to start leaving things in nets on the very tops of our trees to keep them away from my sweet babies. I'll have to train pigeons to fetch stuff for me. My hubby was right, a helper monkey really would be wonderful.
Next comes trying to get them to go to a park to play for a while, take advantage of this crazy warm weather we are having. Well, after several meltdowns, in becomes apparent that they do not want to go outside. Ok, maybe D2 needs an early nap, she's still not feeling 100% after last week's bug. Into crib, and starts a 20 minute tirade. Out of bed. Ok, let's play in the basement. As I'm walking down to the basement, a friend calls and I attempt to have a conversation. Silly me. In the 10 minutes I'm on the phone, the girls unroll an entire thing of wrapping paper. Then begin to fight over it, which leads to a sword fight with the legs of a dismantled table. My friend remarks that my house sounds like a chinese take out kitchen. I'm thinking more like a cock fighting arena. I abruptly end the conversation when it becomes apparent that D2 has been injured by the sword fight.
Ok, lets have snack lunch! Snack lunch is when Mommy doesn't really feel like making "real" food. I bring out a bunch of snacks and let them eat it on the floor in basement. A relatively good time for a while.
As they are finishing up, I run upstairs to brush teeth and do a few things so we can go to the open gym time at our township building. A few minutes pass, and D1 comes upstairs. Naked. Informs me that D2 has made a mess in the kitchen. "but where are your clothes, D1?, Did you pee?". "Yes, Mommy, I did not make mess in kitchen". Which, for those of you who do not interpret 3 yr old speak, means "I made a mess, but blame my sister".
So I go downstairs. I find half a dozen eggs broken all over the floor, with half chewed pepperoni mixed in. Their clothes thrown on top. I big eggy disgusting mess.
Naked D1 climbs on top of the counter and starts to jump up and down saying "not me! not me!" D2 wines and cries because she can't scale to those heights.
I, I begin to cry. I call hubby, and tell him "I'm broken - they finally did it - they broke me" He tells me to put them in their rooms, and take a shower. Tells me to leave the eggs on the floor.
And that is what I do. D2 into her crib. I put the safety handle on D1's door so she can't get out. And I take a long, long shower. My shower has a little bench in it. I've never used it. I mean why would I? I did today. Sat there, head to knees and watched the water go down the drain.
Now, I'm writing this, with wet hair, wearing my bathrobe. I can't get myself to go downstairs and clean that mess. Nor can I get myself to go into D1's room to see the mess she has created in there.
I woke at the usual time today, in the usual way: D1 arriving in my room at 7:30. But from there, things went a little differently. First of all, D1 greeted me with poop ass. What a duty, to wipe someone else's bum before you've even had time to wipe the crusties from your eyes. Then, as I gained more consciousness, I thought to ask - "where are your pants?" to which she replied "downstairs". Hmmmm... downstairs, already?
And so after collecting D2, we go downstairs. Where I find the refrigerator door propped open with a step stool. Pudding and juice on the counter. Then I head into the family room - tv is on. My little angel is so self sufficient, isn't she?
Breakfast is a mess. A lot of crying, pushing and fighting over cheerios. There's probably more to say, but I'm already starting the process of blocking it all out.
Ok, bath time! I've heard other people remark that bath time is such a fun, relaxing time in their house. Huh. Can I move in? Bath time in our house involves Mommy yelling not to dump ALL the water out onto the floor, and then very aggressively washing hair, because I haven't found any other way to get it done.
Ok, next I dare hop on the computer for a few minutes. Check email, send an email, and see if I can find any sort of free activity for the morning. Afterwards I come downstairs to see D2 covered in red sharpie marker. Her new pink pants stained already. And don't even dare ask why I would leave a sharpie out again, yeah, I know, I should have learned my lesson after the carpet incident. Well, here's the thing: I didn't actually leave it out. Well, yeah, I did, sort of, if you include leaving it on top of the fridge as "out". The little angels now know how to scale the sides to get the things on top. I'm going to have to start leaving things in nets on the very tops of our trees to keep them away from my sweet babies. I'll have to train pigeons to fetch stuff for me. My hubby was right, a helper monkey really would be wonderful.
Next comes trying to get them to go to a park to play for a while, take advantage of this crazy warm weather we are having. Well, after several meltdowns, in becomes apparent that they do not want to go outside. Ok, maybe D2 needs an early nap, she's still not feeling 100% after last week's bug. Into crib, and starts a 20 minute tirade. Out of bed. Ok, let's play in the basement. As I'm walking down to the basement, a friend calls and I attempt to have a conversation. Silly me. In the 10 minutes I'm on the phone, the girls unroll an entire thing of wrapping paper. Then begin to fight over it, which leads to a sword fight with the legs of a dismantled table. My friend remarks that my house sounds like a chinese take out kitchen. I'm thinking more like a cock fighting arena. I abruptly end the conversation when it becomes apparent that D2 has been injured by the sword fight.
Ok, lets have snack lunch! Snack lunch is when Mommy doesn't really feel like making "real" food. I bring out a bunch of snacks and let them eat it on the floor in basement. A relatively good time for a while.
As they are finishing up, I run upstairs to brush teeth and do a few things so we can go to the open gym time at our township building. A few minutes pass, and D1 comes upstairs. Naked. Informs me that D2 has made a mess in the kitchen. "but where are your clothes, D1?, Did you pee?". "Yes, Mommy, I did not make mess in kitchen". Which, for those of you who do not interpret 3 yr old speak, means "I made a mess, but blame my sister".
So I go downstairs. I find half a dozen eggs broken all over the floor, with half chewed pepperoni mixed in. Their clothes thrown on top. I big eggy disgusting mess.
Naked D1 climbs on top of the counter and starts to jump up and down saying "not me! not me!" D2 wines and cries because she can't scale to those heights.
I, I begin to cry. I call hubby, and tell him "I'm broken - they finally did it - they broke me" He tells me to put them in their rooms, and take a shower. Tells me to leave the eggs on the floor.
And that is what I do. D2 into her crib. I put the safety handle on D1's door so she can't get out. And I take a long, long shower. My shower has a little bench in it. I've never used it. I mean why would I? I did today. Sat there, head to knees and watched the water go down the drain.
Now, I'm writing this, with wet hair, wearing my bathrobe. I can't get myself to go downstairs and clean that mess. Nor can I get myself to go into D1's room to see the mess she has created in there.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Back into the swing of things
So D1's behavior was really, really good. For close to a month. The Holidays were not nearly as horrifying as I thought it would be, as far as her behavior went, that is to say. I even started getting a little nostalgic about it. Thought she was growing up, maturing. I started stressing over the blog even. What would I write about if I had a well behaved child? Nothing to complain over, no stories to make you laugh. Well, that's all wrong. D1 is back. Back with a vengeance. I've been so busying policing her and D2, I haven't had time to pee. Seriously, the last two weeks have been insane. Insane.
So what's been going on? Well, first of all, D2 is really coming into her own. She is becoming D1's accomplice in so many acts of vandalism, even creating her own.
Here is a short list of what they have been up to, once again, I've blocked out some of the things to conserve my sanity. Keep in mind, this is an incomplete list spanning just two weeks.
- squirted lotion all over bathroom floor
- wrote with a sharpie pen on the living room carpet (yeah, that doesn't come out)
- D2 drew on wall with bic pen (that doesn't appear to come out, either)
- dipped makeup brushes in lipstick (bye bye make up brushes)
- D1 dumped a bottle of Burts Oil in her hair. (oh, and then denied it. despite the obvious evidence of grease in her hair. Which, btw, took four hair washings to get out)
- smeared gel candle goop all over bathroom wall
- D2 wrote on brand new play kitchen set with marker
- bit off edges of almost every piece of a foamy puzzle
- stole ice cream container, and hid it and ate it in dining room. Left a crusty mess in carpet. Yum.
- D1 turned A/C and fan on before we went to bed one night, one night that was just 8 degree outside. We woke up at 1 am in house that was 50 degrees. Then coincidentally, I'm sure, the heater broke and we had to have it fixed on a Saturday.
And then there was the straw that broke the camels back. As I've outlined before, I really don't spend much, if any, time on myself. The one thing I do is put facial moisturizer on every day. It's special stuff for my sensitive skin. Well, they got into it and dumped most of it down the sink. I say most of it, because a nice glob of it also found its way onto D1's face. Which was rather humorous because when we caught them, she said she didn't do it, that it was just her sister. Hmmmm.
This one made me cry. Sob, actually. The usual Mom-esque statements. "I can't have anything nice!" "There is nothing that is my own anymore!" Blah, Blah, Blah. I even said "I don't feel like a human anymore!" To which my eloquent Husband replied "You're not human, you're a Mom now" ahem, yes he did!
So that's what I've been doing. Losing my mind. Slowly.
I'm going to make myself a cup of coffee now.
So what's been going on? Well, first of all, D2 is really coming into her own. She is becoming D1's accomplice in so many acts of vandalism, even creating her own.
Here is a short list of what they have been up to, once again, I've blocked out some of the things to conserve my sanity. Keep in mind, this is an incomplete list spanning just two weeks.
- squirted lotion all over bathroom floor
- wrote with a sharpie pen on the living room carpet (yeah, that doesn't come out)
- D2 drew on wall with bic pen (that doesn't appear to come out, either)
- dipped makeup brushes in lipstick (bye bye make up brushes)
- D1 dumped a bottle of Burts Oil in her hair. (oh, and then denied it. despite the obvious evidence of grease in her hair. Which, btw, took four hair washings to get out)
- smeared gel candle goop all over bathroom wall
- D2 wrote on brand new play kitchen set with marker
- bit off edges of almost every piece of a foamy puzzle
- stole ice cream container, and hid it and ate it in dining room. Left a crusty mess in carpet. Yum.
- D1 turned A/C and fan on before we went to bed one night, one night that was just 8 degree outside. We woke up at 1 am in house that was 50 degrees. Then coincidentally, I'm sure, the heater broke and we had to have it fixed on a Saturday.
And then there was the straw that broke the camels back. As I've outlined before, I really don't spend much, if any, time on myself. The one thing I do is put facial moisturizer on every day. It's special stuff for my sensitive skin. Well, they got into it and dumped most of it down the sink. I say most of it, because a nice glob of it also found its way onto D1's face. Which was rather humorous because when we caught them, she said she didn't do it, that it was just her sister. Hmmmm.
This one made me cry. Sob, actually. The usual Mom-esque statements. "I can't have anything nice!" "There is nothing that is my own anymore!" Blah, Blah, Blah. I even said "I don't feel like a human anymore!" To which my eloquent Husband replied "You're not human, you're a Mom now" ahem, yes he did!
So that's what I've been doing. Losing my mind. Slowly.
I'm going to make myself a cup of coffee now.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
I know
So, I just want you to know that I know. Ok? I know my hair looks like shit. I have a hair appt for next Saturday, ok? I know, What's up with it, right? It's the freaking water here, that's what's up. The hard water in the Lehigh Valley is doing some serious beauty damage here. My stylist told me to start using a shampoo for color treated hair, said it would help my hair from turning this weird brassy color. It helped, sort of. But maybe I bought the wrong kind? It's totally making my hair look greasy and limp. Ok, ok, I know, I know that's not the only problem with my hair. I'm WAAAAYYYY over due on the hair dye thing. My grey roots are to my ears. I KNOW. And yes, I know if I took the time to blow dry it after my shower it wouldn't do this weird flippy thing. Yeah, I know. But if I'm using the hair dryer, then I have no idea what D1 is up to, and I already took a huge risk of house damage simply by taking a shower. Besides, the hair dryer could wake up D2, then I would really be in shits creek.
Yes, yes, I know that if I took 3 extra minutes to apply some concealer and blush I would look awake and probably like 15 years younger. I know. But then D1 and D2 would want me to put make up on them, and it would become this long THING. This THING that would eventually turn into yelling. Anyways, most of my makeup brushes are completely ruined because D1 dipped them into lip gloss. And I'm not buying any new ones till they are in middle school, at least.
Of course, I know my shirt has a stain on it. There AND there. I know. It's just that if I bought a new one, it would be christianed with a stain within the first hour of wearing it. Yes, I know, if I was more careful, or treated the stain right away, it would wash out. I know this. I don't do this. I take the shirt off, run around half naked, and then forget to pre-treat the stain, because I'm yelling at the girls for emptying out my dresser.
So I just want you to know that I know, ok?
And knowing is half the battle, right?
Yes, yes, I know that if I took 3 extra minutes to apply some concealer and blush I would look awake and probably like 15 years younger. I know. But then D1 and D2 would want me to put make up on them, and it would become this long THING. This THING that would eventually turn into yelling. Anyways, most of my makeup brushes are completely ruined because D1 dipped them into lip gloss. And I'm not buying any new ones till they are in middle school, at least.
Of course, I know my shirt has a stain on it. There AND there. I know. It's just that if I bought a new one, it would be christianed with a stain within the first hour of wearing it. Yes, I know, if I was more careful, or treated the stain right away, it would wash out. I know this. I don't do this. I take the shirt off, run around half naked, and then forget to pre-treat the stain, because I'm yelling at the girls for emptying out my dresser.
So I just want you to know that I know, ok?
And knowing is half the battle, right?
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
painting a picture of family life
So my friend Valerie, over at A Frugal Family Fun Blog recently wrote this post about a family painting event. She even provided photos. The pictures are a snapshot of domestic tranquility at it's best. A tranquil activity to wind down the day. With the chaos of Christmas, it had been a while since I painted with the girls. With the icey, rainy weather today, I figured it would be a good time to pull out the new painting supplies I bought them for Christmas. I bought them two little kits. One is acrylic paint with a cute miniature pallette and really nice paintbrushes, the other is water paint with lots of great colors. I gave D1 the choice of which one to use. She chose the acrylic paint. This is how the conversation went once everything was set up:
D1: I want water, tooooo! Why D2 have water? I want water.
Me: Your paint doesn't need water to work.
D1: But I want water.
She then runs over to D2's paint and paper and starts using it.
D2: SCREEEEECHHHHH!! Noooooo! Mine!
Me: D1, get back to your chair. Use your paint. Back to your chair! Back to your chair!
D1 then goes back to her chair. Mixes all the pretty colors together to form an ugly black.
Me: D1, why did you do that? Now you only have black. D1, don't paint your hands, we aren't doing handprints today. D1, back to your chair, leave your sister alone. D1, clean off your hand, paint is everywhere now. D2, stop screaming. D2, stop throwing your paintbrushes on the floor.
D1: I want water.
Me: Your paint doesn't need water.
D2: Screeech!
D1: I want more paint.
D2: Screeech!
D1 then gets out of chair and grabs more paint.
Me: No, D1, you have to use up your black paint first.
D1: I want water.
Me: No, D1, we are not doing handprints today. One more time and we will stop painting.
and 30 seconds later...
Me: Ok! Painting is done! You didn't listen!
D1 & D2: Screech!
Thanks for the suggestion, Val.
D1: I want water, tooooo! Why D2 have water? I want water.
Me: Your paint doesn't need water to work.
D1: But I want water.
She then runs over to D2's paint and paper and starts using it.
D2: SCREEEEECHHHHH!! Noooooo! Mine!
Me: D1, get back to your chair. Use your paint. Back to your chair! Back to your chair!
D1 then goes back to her chair. Mixes all the pretty colors together to form an ugly black.
Me: D1, why did you do that? Now you only have black. D1, don't paint your hands, we aren't doing handprints today. D1, back to your chair, leave your sister alone. D1, clean off your hand, paint is everywhere now. D2, stop screaming. D2, stop throwing your paintbrushes on the floor.
D1: I want water.
Me: Your paint doesn't need water.
D2: Screeech!
D1: I want more paint.
D2: Screeech!
D1 then gets out of chair and grabs more paint.
Me: No, D1, you have to use up your black paint first.
D1: I want water.
Me: No, D1, we are not doing handprints today. One more time and we will stop painting.
and 30 seconds later...
Me: Ok! Painting is done! You didn't listen!
D1 & D2: Screech!
Thanks for the suggestion, Val.
Monday, January 5, 2009
New Years Resolutions
So, I guess I'm optimistic enough to still come up with Resolutions each year. But cynic enough to roll my eyes at my ownself as I'm doing it. After the decadence of too much eating, too much spending and not enough time spent on me, by January I'm always up for some healthy eating and pampering. But as I do it, my eyes are rolling, knowing that it will be over with by The Superbowl.
As I sit here, with my now snug fitting fat pants - the one's that just two short months ago were baggy, and wouldn't stay around my hips. Not only am I thinking about changing into sweatpants, but I'm thinking about the resolutions for this year. Last year Valerie Bertinelli made quite a revelation in her Jenny Craig commercial. It was the first year that she wasn't going to have to make her resolution be about losing weight. Will this be my year? Probably not. See, right there is the reason. Obviously I don't have what it takes. Sighhhhh. So what exactly are my resolutions?
1. Eat better, less sugar, less mindless shoveling in of the kid's leftovers.
2. Drink more water - I used to have this one down pat, not sure what happened.
3. Make the time to exercise.
4. Wake up 30 minutes before the kids, so I can have some quiet me time in the mornings.
Well, I started these resolutions today. I always start anything new on a Monday. Who cares what day New Year's Day landed on, Mondays are my days for starting over.
I set my alarm for 6:30. Got out of bed at 7:30. Actually got to take a shower with out D1 or D2 bothering me. So no, I didn't do what I resolved, but hey a quiet shower works, too.
I actually didn't eat the kid's leftovers today. I think that will be a matter of reprogramming. I remember when I was single, I would hear women complaining about gaining weight from doing this I would think "yuck! why would you do that?" Well, here I am!
What are your New Year's Resolutions? Or are you too jaded to have any?
As I sit here, with my now snug fitting fat pants - the one's that just two short months ago were baggy, and wouldn't stay around my hips. Not only am I thinking about changing into sweatpants, but I'm thinking about the resolutions for this year. Last year Valerie Bertinelli made quite a revelation in her Jenny Craig commercial. It was the first year that she wasn't going to have to make her resolution be about losing weight. Will this be my year? Probably not. See, right there is the reason. Obviously I don't have what it takes. Sighhhhh. So what exactly are my resolutions?
1. Eat better, less sugar, less mindless shoveling in of the kid's leftovers.
2. Drink more water - I used to have this one down pat, not sure what happened.
3. Make the time to exercise.
4. Wake up 30 minutes before the kids, so I can have some quiet me time in the mornings.
Well, I started these resolutions today. I always start anything new on a Monday. Who cares what day New Year's Day landed on, Mondays are my days for starting over.
I set my alarm for 6:30. Got out of bed at 7:30. Actually got to take a shower with out D1 or D2 bothering me. So no, I didn't do what I resolved, but hey a quiet shower works, too.
I actually didn't eat the kid's leftovers today. I think that will be a matter of reprogramming. I remember when I was single, I would hear women complaining about gaining weight from doing this I would think "yuck! why would you do that?" Well, here I am!
What are your New Year's Resolutions? Or are you too jaded to have any?
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Christmas is Over
So that's it, huh? It's all over. How exhausting! I'm still catching up on the sleep I missed for a full month, trying to put together the best Christmas ever, or something like that. How was it? Did I buy the freaking Dora Pegasus? Did I survive?
No, I did not buy the Dora Pegasus. I was very proud of myself on that one. I looked till Christmas eve, trying to find it for less than $30. I didn't, so I kept to my promise not to buy it. Did she miss it? Not at all. Didn't even mention it. Her favorite Christmas gift was the V-Tech Camera. She has barely put it down. I hate it. All her shots are, well, at her level, which means way more ass shots than one person deserves to see of herself in a lifetime. The horror. Although I almost peed myself when I saw some of the other shots. The camera has this thing where you can add stuff to your images. Hats, horns, googley eyes. Some how Miss D1 managed to add the googley eyes to a chest shot of her Great Grandmother. Got them right on target, if you know what I mean.
I think for D2, favorite gift was a tie between two things: a plastic spoon and cup and play dress up shoes. I've never seen a 20 month old so obsessed with accessories. That's my girl, alright. No denying that one.
Did I survive? I'm not really sure. I'll let you know next week when I catch up on sleep. But was it worth it? Yes, I think so. It was our first Christmas spent at home, our first time hosting the Hubby's whole family for Christmas dinner. Have I mentioned the word exhausted? Still, watching D1 and D2 run around and play with their new toys, unhurried or forced to do anything else? Totally worth it.
Seems like I should have more to say, I know I've been running blurbs through my brain for the past few days, but somehow I can't think of them now. It's just that I'm so tired....
No, I did not buy the Dora Pegasus. I was very proud of myself on that one. I looked till Christmas eve, trying to find it for less than $30. I didn't, so I kept to my promise not to buy it. Did she miss it? Not at all. Didn't even mention it. Her favorite Christmas gift was the V-Tech Camera. She has barely put it down. I hate it. All her shots are, well, at her level, which means way more ass shots than one person deserves to see of herself in a lifetime. The horror. Although I almost peed myself when I saw some of the other shots. The camera has this thing where you can add stuff to your images. Hats, horns, googley eyes. Some how Miss D1 managed to add the googley eyes to a chest shot of her Great Grandmother. Got them right on target, if you know what I mean.
I think for D2, favorite gift was a tie between two things: a plastic spoon and cup and play dress up shoes. I've never seen a 20 month old so obsessed with accessories. That's my girl, alright. No denying that one.
Did I survive? I'm not really sure. I'll let you know next week when I catch up on sleep. But was it worth it? Yes, I think so. It was our first Christmas spent at home, our first time hosting the Hubby's whole family for Christmas dinner. Have I mentioned the word exhausted? Still, watching D1 and D2 run around and play with their new toys, unhurried or forced to do anything else? Totally worth it.
Seems like I should have more to say, I know I've been running blurbs through my brain for the past few days, but somehow I can't think of them now. It's just that I'm so tired....
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