Internet Germs?

You will remember that just a short time ago, the poor little fellows over at Stomper Girl's place were pink cheeked victim's of Fifth's Disease. More commonly known as "Slapped Cheek Syndrome." Guess who woke up with similar rosy cheeks on Sunday?




He has been slathered in creams and ointments until he doesn't look quite as elfish as he did this morning, but he is very embarrassed to "look funny."

Several months ago, Jennifer at Precious Pink Pumps had a sty. Weeks later, I had an itchy, painful bump develop on my inner eyelid. First time ever. Torture for a contact wearer who is just a few flips of the eye chart away from legally blind.

So... do you think electronic viruses are the only things spread via the magic of the interweb?

Aftermath

The lead up to the holidays was hectic. Little Abby had a doctor visit Friday for cold symptoms, had a temp of 103F on Saturday then topped the weekend off with ear pain just at bedtime on Sunday. My total sleep hours for the weekend were in the single digits. Rob's were only slightly higher as we took turns comforting the sick one and doing anything and everything to distract her from the terrible pain of not one, but two, throbbing ears.

So we truly started our holidays on a bad note. I had planned to not stress, let the little things go and just enjoy the spirit of Christmas.... the best laid plans and all of that, huh? There were cookies and cakes to bake, presents to wrap (from Santa, I already had the others done), dinners to host, places to be, Santa to kiss and assist, and the usual laundry, cleaning, and kid refereeing to be done.

I have vowed that next year I may hire cleaning help, buy the candy instead of making it and perhaps have a restaurant do the meal hosting. Rob and I went to bed on Christmas Eve feeling like we had been beaten. Laid low by the kind of physical and mental exhaustion that makes your muscles, especially your brain, ache.

In the end, we DID have a marvelous Christmas DAY. The kids had to be wakened as they were much too excited to go to sleep the night before. Their sleepy joy at beholding the treasures under the tree was priceless. It repaid the sleep and energy debt in full and restored our spirits. J.T. was thrilled with the Wii, it's accessories and the action figures Santa left for him while Abby has already tested the cupcake maker (adult supervision required of course), used up all of her light brush paint and is currently rocking out with her Hannah Montana guitar.

Merry Christmas

I still haven't taken the Christmas card photo. Still have some shopping to do and haven't even begun the baking, making and creating of homemade goodies for teachers, co-workers and friends. But here is a little seasonal geek humor. Merry Christmas my dear friends. Hope yours is happy, joyous and peaceful.

So This is Christmas...

Mary wrote a lovely post about choosing a day or two ago. It really connected with me. There have been times in my life when I have had to choose the good, the happy, the beautiful over others things, feelings, people who are the opposite. Though I firmly believe that there are times when you have to let some things simply be, wash over you from head to toe until you are drained and empty. More often than not, though, I choose to be happy.

This time of year I am choosing to find the lovely bits of Christmas that drown out the commercialism and the busyness of the season. A few of my favorite Christmas things:

Setting up the creche with the children. They always put poor Joseph in the back. This year he was accidentally decapitated. Thank goodness for super glue.

Supervising the hanging of our odd assorment of homemade ornaments, store bought goods and candy canes, most of them clumped together in various spots on the tree.

Scraping the pot of the leftover bits of fudge and spooning them into my mouth. It is the same fudge recipe my mother used when I was little, found on the back of the marshmallow creme jar.

Counting down the days with two very eager children.

Reading "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" so many times I have it memorized.

Singing Christmas Carols in the car. Every day. Every trip. Everywhere.

Cards coming in the mail. A daily reminder that I MUST get ours done and mailed.

Hiding Santa stuff in the attic, the closet, the cupboards. Knowing that, a little sadly, this might be the last year the seven-almost-eight year old "believes." He's asking some very tough questions about the "science" behind this whole Santa gig. "Yes. Well how do we know about Rudolph if no one has ever seen him?" and "How does Santa get into the houses with no chimneys?"

Reminiscing about Christmases past with brother, sister, parents. My siblings used to ask me if I could hear the reindeer on the roof. Which meant I was too excited to sleep by far. Were those reindoor hooves I heard?

Looking forward to all the Christmas treats to be had at the parties. Those delicious party foods you only get to sample a few times a year.

The gaudy Christmas sweater with glued on stars, sprinkles and beads. Only time of year I'd ever wear something like it.

Water Conservation - Abby Style

I don't think she had the environmental benefits of a sink bath in mind when she crammed herself into the guest bathroom sink.

Dumber Than I Look?

Why does it seem that if you are ever really, truly exhausted... the kids aren't? Why do they choose such a night to stay up late, too excited for one reason or another, to fall asleep?

Abby got in bed with me as Rob and I were both too tired to cope with bouncy, springy, hyper little girl. She kept saying she needed to pee. Made several trips to the bathroom and came back to bed.

I discovered the next morning that perhaps, just perhaps, she didn't really have to pee after all. On my floor, between the bathroom and the bed, was a trail of maxi pad wrappers and contents.

And one wrapped around her foot like a bandaid.