I think it's love.

How is it that my parents have the kind of good fortune that results in just being given an adorable 70 lb Weimaraner, that's just the right combination of clumsiness, goofiness and just outright canine sweetness?? Shoot. I've got to find a way to smuggle this home in my suitcase.

Nat'l Lampoon's Christmas Vacation...except not as funny.

Turns out Santa is a rather accommodating guy and he brought Christmas to us a wee bit early so we could travel west to visit the fam. The kids made quite the haul and then we busied ourselves finishing up holiday treats for neighbors, and packing up the essentials for a week away. E shuffled next door with the fish bowl, because, well, we didn't want the fish to starve. It is Christmas after all. Besides Christmas loot, Santa brought us a snow storm so we did all this in a blizzard, wondering if we'd even get out of town at all. We woke up the next morning and braved the just opened highway out of town. Pack three kids and a greyhound in a van for a two-day drive, complete with a stay in a Motel 6 (because accommodation options accepting of the aforementioned dog are limited), and you've got a sure recipe for adventure. So here's how you do it:

--First, pack light. Because when you're staying at Motel 6 (in Laramie, Wyoming for Pete's sake!) you'll be lugging every last thing into the building with you so you won't lay awake wondering if someone's slim-jimming their way into your vehicle to steal the Christmas presents.

--Next, you must, MUST have a DVD player if you plan to travel with kids. A dozen movies or so (and make sure a couple of those are new, never before seen) and you'll have no problem keeping the kids in a movie-induced catatonic state in the back seat for 16 of the 17 hour drive.

--SNACKS. Snacks, snacks and more snacks. And bottles of water. And then more snacks.

--If one of two of you turn out to have a stomach virus, you can snatch all the tissues out of a Kleenex box and toss your cookies in there. Wrap that box up in a grocery bag and you're on your way once again. Later, after you've stolen the ice bucket from Motel 6, you can catch spews in there.

Quote of the week:

Somewhere in the middle of Nebraska Wonderboy asked "Is this the kind of place we call THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE?" Yes, my boy. Yes.

And then about midway across Wyoming the kids became convinced that one of the small towns along I-80 was surely Radiator Springs (think Cars movie).

So we arrived without major catastrophes, although with a tummy bug or two still in tow, and here we are having a lazy Christmas break, eating more than anyone should, and giving Grandpa and Grandma and good heavy dose of kid mess and kid chaos.

Mischievous elf caught in the act.

It appears he was looking either for festive Christmas music or the perfect elf house.

A mischievous elf lives under our tree...

...and he is responsible for all kinds of elfish pranks. Our tree has been undecorated countless times - the solution to which problem is that ALL 300 ornaments are now hung on the top 24" of the tree. Wonderboy tried placing a few packages under the tree today, but that tricky little elf absconds with every label and bow! He has a language all his own that we have not been able to decipher. It's punctuated by spitting and clicking, so I think he might actually belong to the African Bushmen. And he keeps a stash of pacifiers conveniently located under the tree, because an elf never knows when one might be needed in a moment of mischief. I'm pretty sure Santa tossed him out on his ear because he's not so good at the kinds of things you would think elves would excel at. No adorable hand-made wooden toys have mysteriously appeared under the tree, and I've already mentioned the UN-decorating of the tree. He doesn't leave a trail of magical elf dust, rather a smattering of tossed-aside toys and animal crackers. And did I mention he sometimes smells really awful? I won't rehash the ladybug noshing horror, except to say that it wasn't an isolated incident. What kind of elf does that? You can see how he feels about candy canes below.

We're just hanging around...

trying our very best to stay out of trouble until Santa visits. Which will hopefully be early, then over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go.

See? Perfectly quaint and cozy!

Do I?

Don't I?

Aaaaargh!

Ok, maybe a little poll...

Feel free to vote either for:

A) Heck no! Are you insane?!? You will be living in a Tuffshed by the freeway and trekking out to a Johny-on-the-spot in the middle of the night. E's rump will be permanently flattened due to the hours logged in a train seat to and fro each day. You will effectively be a single parent and Wonderboy will have to rescind his policy on weapons given the neighborhood you will be able to afford to put up the aforementioned Tuffshed in.

or,

B) Oh ya! Forget the long commutes, the traffic and the over-inflated real estate, your kids will benefit from the rich culture and diversity, and family and friends will look forward to visiting you, as opposed to the boring place you currently inhabit. E is so crotchety anyway, a little time on a train will do him good. As for Tuffsheds, they are perfectly quaint and cozy.

Survival Mode

We've all got a little bit of cabin fever around here. Church was cancelled Sunday due to bad weather, no school for Wonderboy yesterday since his tummy was sketchy, and school is cancelled today because we're in the midst of the ice storm hitting the midwest. So what do you do with three kids who haven't been out of the house in three days? No, seriously, what do you do? We're a little desperate around here. E is working from home today, so at least there are two of us to wrangle the crazies...

Anway, we're in the Christmas spirit around here, despite being a little stir crazy, and Christmas always makes me feel a little like recreating Jr. High home-ec. E got me a serger, so I couldn't resist whipping up this little frock, although it will have to wait in the back of S's closet for spring.

And of course, you must bake and cook all kinds of treats at Christmas time. E has been domestic too. An impulsive purchase of 42 pounds of cream cheese at Costco means you've got to do something with all that cheese, right? Enter mini-cheesecakes! The kids are perplexed by and completely in love with this strange sweet food that has "cheese" in the name.

So don't worry about us folks. If we lose power and are holed up in our house without power for weeks on end in this absurd weather, we will survive on peanut brittle and cheesecake. There may only be 6 rolls of T.P. in the house, but we've got cheesecake!

And if we don't lose power, santa came early this week and brought me this shiny tool of domesticity... It's my mission to find ways to slow cook everything we consume from here on out. What can you make in the slow cooker with 42 pounds of cream cheese?

Her first performance

Princess S danced with her group for the local oldtown Christmas lighting just after Thanksgiving. She's the one with her skirt hiked up nearly under her armpits about fifth from the right with her legs a'kickin. She definitely blossoms in front of an audience. Probably the cutest thing in tap shoes I've ever seen.

And she made the front of the local newspaper. So she's famous. You can make formal requests for autographs here.

In case you're packing heat when you come for a visit...

...Wonderboy wants you to know you will be required to leave all fire-arms at the door. Seriously! This kid is so off the wall!

Word of the Day: Strefulated

As in "I'm getting strefulated!"

I believe it may be a linguistic hybridization of stressed + frustrated.