Monday, November 30, 2009

Christmastime and other things that have been keeping me busy.

What a week.

I'm still recovering from Thanksgiving traveling, Christmas decorating, and all the doorbusting I did last week and part of this weekend.

My sisters and I doorbusted (Screw you, Grammar Police. I say it's a word.) or as we like to say, "We busted down some doors," last Friday at 5:00 a.m. Why? I have no idea. Just because we could. The doors of Macy's and Target were beckoning to be busted wide open, and we more than happy to oblige.

I have no idea what we bought. We just grabbed two carts and just started throwing crap in them. I do know that I got 700-thread count sheets for $30 bucks. 30 BUCKS, BABY. So, while you were sleeping soundly and peacefully in your warm and cozy 300-thread count sheets last Friday morning, just know that I was out there, fighting the cold, the crowds, the lines, and my own lack of sleep, just so I could upgrade to the 700 model. Oh yeah. Totally worth it.

We promised the kids once we got home from our trip on Saturday that we would put up the Christmas tree. It's an artificial tree, and before we put up the lights, Annabel took matters into her own hands and decided to decorate it herself. Here's the result. I didn't notice it until I went to hang the lights. Can somebody say future interior designer?



I know, I know. I promised you no more Barbie pictures, but I lied. Look how Babs is upside down, naked, and hanging all askew in the tree. Is this a political statement? Is Babs secretly a tree hugger? Is she lamenting the fact that trees have to die to make our Christmases merrier? Well, sorry Babs. I hate to break it to you, but our tree is as fake as your boobs. Your political statement is futile.

Of course, the true statements on this tree come from the the My Little Pony hanging out on a nearby branch, along with a Little People sheep. PETA would be so proud.

Speaking of animals, would you like to meet the current bane of my existence?



Cute, huh?

Nope. He's a total effer. Really. Don't let his cute face, his floppy ears and his reindeer antlers fool you. He is as annoying as the day is long, and I can thank my mother-in-law for him. She gave this to the kids last year for fun. Ironically, there is nothing fun about him, at least according to me. If you press his paw, he sings, "MEEEEEERRRRRY CHRISTMAS BABY!" to the tune of "Shout". You know "Shout", don't you? It's that annoying song that has been played at every wedding in the history of EVER and at one point people even lay on the floor inappropriately and kick up their legs and give you a little unwanted glimpse of their "world"? Yeah. That song. So just substitute, "Jump up and shout now!" with "Merry Christmas now!" and then sing it OVER AND OVER AND OVER.

Why is it that my television remote control batteries die after about a month, but this thing has batteries that will still be working in the next millenium? No matter how many times the kids push that stinkin' paw and I hope that this will be the time that nothing comes out of his mouth, he manages to start up with a, "MEEEEERRRRYYYYY CHRISTMAS BABY!!!!"

I'm not going to be a Scrooge about it. But this dog may or may not have accidentally been dropped down the basement stairs this evening at a high velocity when no one was looking. Or it was thrown. Thrown, dropped. Same thing. Alas, this doggy still has his vocal cords intact.

Violence doesn't solve anything, kids.

Before I forget, guess what, among other things, the boys are getting for Christmas this year?

Roller skates. Inline skates, to be exact.

Because I am stupid like that, and furthermore, in love with the Emergency Room. There is no better way that I'd rather spend an afternoon with all four of my children, than having one of them get a plaster cast on a vital body part.

But really. The boys asked for them, and they are seasoned, veteran skaters who have been skating a grand total of ONCE, so it's a good idea, right? I'm not one of those moms who wants to bubble-wrap her kids just so they'll never get hurt, but I have a tiny inkling that I'm just asking for trouble. I fully expect my medical insurance company to call me and be all, "Hello Clare. We heard that you bought the kids roller skates for Christmas. We'll be handling your claim for your visit to the ER on December 26. So good luck with that!"

I'm not totally stupid. I did buy them all new helmets, and a bag o' armor, i.e. wrist guards and knee pads. Perhaps I will consider sticking maxi pads to their butts just to decrease my chances of serious injury even further.

Oh...it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas in our neck of the woods.

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