I Got Got Got Got No Time

Well, you know I've been busy if the first snow of the year came and went without a peep from me. I honestly can't even tell you when it happened, just that it was sometime between the last post and now. Christmas is in full swing around here, and there is just no time to blog. The tree is up, the house is decorated, and as of a few minutes ago, most of the gifts are wrapped. I still have to wrap all of Kev's stuff (Christmas AND birthday!) and a couple of unfinished items. I am pretty sure that I will not be able to do everything I need to do by the time it needs to be done. Christmas cards may go out in January again this year.

But if that's the case, so be it. The world is not going to end.

This is the year I was going to give everyone handmade Christmas gifts. I was going to have everything done by Thanksgiving so I could just enjoy Christmas, all stress-free. Well, I am sad to say that pretty much nobody is getting any handmade anythings this year. And I didn't even start on Christmas until after Thanksgiving. Oh well. My intentions were good. And although the season has hardly been stress-free, I AM enjoying Christmas very much. Daphne is at the perfect age. She helped with the tree and the Christmas cards and a few other things. The town had a parade and a festival, which she loved. I have managed to avoid malls, and so I haven't had to deal much with cranky shoppers and bad traffic. We had some nice snow. There has been eggnog and Elf and hot chocolate and fires in the fireplace and even a few nights out with friends and with Kev.

So, if I don't get to write again until after the holidays, which I probably won't unless it's pure procrastination, I hope you all have a really great Christmas. Try to make yourself stop to enjoy it. It'll be over soon.

The Very Most Important Job of All

This angel is the tree topper from my childhood. It's the only one I ever remember having. My parents gave it to me when I moved out and started getting my own tree. This is Daphne's first time putting her up on top. Good job, Little Peanut!

Somebody Tooted...

Boomboowa...

Here is a short video of Daphne's class performance. I should probably take it down after a couple of days since there are other kids in it. But for now, have fun watching the mild chaos...

Little Sacagawea

Today when we picked up Daphne from school, we were treated to a performance by the class. They just finished their unit on Native Americans, so they did a little Indian dance for us. It was so dang cute.

One time, we had a Cinco De Mayo party in the neighborhood, and my neighbor thought sopapillas were called "sacagaweas." We all thought that was pretty funny. But you probably had to be there.

Notice, Daphne chose an orange feather for her hat. She is so cool.

Not a Creature was Stirring...or WAS There?

Normally, I don't mind laundry day. On laundry day, I usually do all the laundry in the morning, then after Daphne goes down for her nap, I take it all into the TV room to fold while I watch old episodes of Project Runway or some sort of cooking show. It's very peaceful and relaxing, and I actually look forward to it.

Last week, laundry day was not what I was hoping for. I read Daphne her naptime story and headed downstairs. When I got to the bottom, I thought I saw something scurry under the TV room couch. I froze. It appeared to be bigger than a Texas waterbug roach, but smaller than a mouse, it was blackish, and if it had a tail, I didn't see it. I had no idea what it was. When I started to move again, I saw it on the opposite side of the couch, and again it ran for cover. Ugh. I emailed Kev, "Something just ran under the couch. It might be a mouse. I am freaking out." Then, I sadly took the laundry into the living room, where I folded it in fear, and without TV. Kev replied to my email, "Um...OK. Never a dull moment." Then he called, and offered as much help as he could from his office, which was not much. There were no more sightings and I forgot all about it.

Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, I spent naptime in the kitchen making my apple pie and some biscuit dough. By the time I was done and cleaned up the huge mess, Daphne was awake and I was exhausted. I stuck some baked potatoes in the oven and collapsed on the couch. After a while, I got up to check the potatoes. I stuck a fork in them, and they were done. I opened the dishwasher to put in the fork, and there, near the silverware caddy, staring up at me with his beady little eyes, was the cutest, tiniest, most horrifying little gray field mouse you ever saw. Imagine my reaction. There was a scream. There was a slam. There was handflapping and dance of panic. Thank God Kev was home. I spent the better part of the rest of the evening up on a chair while my poor nice brave husband completely disassembled the dishwasher, only to be thwarted by the crafty little critter. We had just about given up hope, and I (still on the chair) was about to start to cry, when Kev saw him run under the fridge. AHA! Cleverly using strips cut from a cardboard box and some packing tape, Kev trapped the little monster under the fridge. I got down from the chair, and we all ate some very well-done baked potatoes for dinner, after which Kev went to the store and bought a trap.

That night, I didn't get much sleep. I woke up at about 3:00 with a really bad case of the heebie-jeebies, imagining all the possible escape routes we might not know were behind the fridge. The next morning, there was nothing in the trap. Doom.

I went to Thanksgiving dinner vowing to forget about the mouse, which I did. Until we were about 15 minutes from getting back home. Then the panic started to return. But, awaiting us was a Thanksgiving Miracle! The mouse was in the trap! Poor disgusting little guy. He must have been really scared. So, our little family of three marched down the street at once, Daphne with the flashlight, Kev with the trap, and me with a giant weight off my mind, and we ceremoniously set him free by the creek. I slept really well that night.

I really hope there aren't more where he came from. I will never ever get that dishwasher scene out of my mind. Never. Ever.