I Resolve to NOT...

Tomorrow it will be 2009.

A lot of people scramble to come up with resolutions that they hope to keep for the New Year.

For a twist, I’m going to write down resolutions that I know I will not keep.

--------------------------

I resolve to NOT try and lose weight. Let’s be honest here. I like to eat. I tend to gravitate towards the foods that aren’t healthy. If the pounds drop, that’s fantastic. If not, well, I can still fit into my pants so all is well.

I resolve to NOT mention the Twilight series anymore. The fanatics frighten me. Plus, no one else thinks it’s amusing when I say things like, “Whenever it’s written that one of the vampires hiss, I think of a hissing cat and it makes me giggle so it sort of kills some of the serious moments of the book…”



I resolve to NOT stop watching those horrible MTV shows. I can’t help it, I enjoy the drama of The Hills and that new show The City. I suppose I can feel better about myself though: at least I don’t watch that horrid Tila Tequila program. Or that Paris Hilton one. What was she looking for again? A maid? No wait, I think it was a best friend or something. At least I never watched THAT show.

I resolve to NOT stop cursing silently at the people who refuse to use their turn signals while driving. How hard is it to flick your wrist?

I resolve to NOT stop cursing silently at the people who talk on their cell phones while driving. Get a Bluetooth.

I resolve to NOT stop watching sugary chick flicks or movies with aliens in them. I tried several times to broaden my horizon by trying to watch those movies with subtitles. Because apparently you’re a well rounded adult if you enjoy them or something. I don’t know. I do know that I fell asleep while watching several subtitled movies. I couldn’t follow the plot. I suppose this means I’m not well rounded. Oh well. Pass me The Notebook please.

I resolve to NOT stop shopping Gymboree. I just can’t. Perhaps if they started designing clothing with only animal print on it I could stop. I cannot stand animal print on clothing. But as it is, they keep releasing these lines that I MUST put on my darling children.

I resolve to NOT stop laughing when someone passes gas. I can’t help it. Farts are funny.

I resolve to NOT try to be a great cook. It’s just not in the cards for me. When I cook, things will most likely always burn. Some people just automatically know what to do in the kitchen. I obviously do not. I’m usually in there darting around like a chicken with its head cut off with my arms flailing in the air trying to stop this from burning and that from boiling over.

I resolve to NOT stop frequenting McDonalds. I can’t help it. The fries rock.

The Only Non Edward Obsessed Chick...

So over the weekend I decided I ought to watch the DVDs that came from Netflix.

Sometimes they sit on my kitchen counter for months before I get around to watching them.

It's not as easy to sit down and watch a movie when you have two kids running about. And then when they're finally asleep that's the time when you have to clean. Because if you try to clean when they're awake, well, then they want to "help" and their version of helping is to make an even bigger mess. Which you don't TELL them because you don't want to hurt their feelings.

I ended up watching Made of Honor which was a DVD that had been sitting on my kitchen counter for awhile.

It was pretty good.

All chick flicks seem to be the same though. I had figured out the ending within ten minutes of the movie.

Then I put in The House Bunny and felt like I lost a few brain cells.

It was stupid.

The only plus was that Colin Hanks was in it and he's nice to look at.

The next DVDs are my Netflix list are The Duchess and The Women.

I sincerely hope those are better.

Today I went to the commissary. I had to pick up the stuff to make lasagna. Tom has been craving it. I hate making it because it's just a huge pain in the butt. But he surprised me the other day by cleaning the stovetop--which looked like a tiny bomb had exploded on it. And as a thank you I begrudgingly agreed to make his beloved lasagna.

I also picked up some 50% off Christmas scents. They had their Harvest air freshners marked half off so I scooped some of those up. Harvest air doesn't bother me. It smells good and it doesn't scream holidays to me. Any smell is better than the smell of fresh Max the cat poop, really.

As I was checking out I noticed the cashier had a copy of Breaking Dawn beside her.

"Oh," I said, gesturing to the book. "I just finished that."

Her eyes lit up. A few seconds prior she had looked half asleep, as though she wanted to crawl back into bed. "Isn't Edward DREAMY?" she gushed.

Oh no.

Not another Edward fanatic.

It's just, well, I'm 26. My days of being obsessed with a fictional character are over.

Had the series been out when I was a teenager then perhaps I would have been Edward obsessed. Because it's acceptable then. But because I'm 26 I can't get myself excited over someone who doesn't exist.

I just can't wrap my brain around the thirty something year olds who say that they want to marry Edward.

"But he doesn't EXIST!" I want to scream.

"Edward is...he's nice enough," I told the cashier politely.

She seemed aghast. Her jaw even dropped open a little bit. "He's PERFECT!" she swooned.

And she looked to be in her thirties.

I wanted to say, "Perhaps you should focus your affections on someone, I don't know...alive.."

"I get cold easily," I felt the need to explain from the expression the cashier was tossing me. "And Edward is cold therefore I'd be freezing all the time with him around me. So no thanks." I flashed a smile as I brought out my debit card to pay.

The cashier seemed genuinely confused. "But.." she spluttered. "He's PERFECT!" she repeated.

Oh lordy. Remind me NEVER to bring up the Twilight series with anyone EVER again. It seemed whenever I do, the person is obsessed with Edward. And when I explain that actually no, I'm not crazy about him, they look at ME like I'm the crazy one!

Sorry, my crushes are ALIVE. And exist.

Elijah Wood. He's alive.

Michael Phelps. Alive.

John Krasinski. Oh, look at that..ALIVE..

"I don't like perfection," I said, quickly swiping my card. At that point I wanted to get OUT of there.

Never EVER bring up Twilight again. Never EVER bring up Twilight again.. I chanted in my mind as the words APPROVED appeared on the screen.

"You don't LIKE perfection?" the cashier boomed. She gave a high pitched giggle and made eye contact with the woman behind me. She gestured to me and told that woman, "She doesn't like perfection! Who wouldn't like a perfect man?"

The woman shrugged politely and looked utterly baffled.

"I like a man with imperfections I guess," I said, waiting patiently for the cashier to hand me my receipt.

She finally reached for it and placed it in my palm. "I have never heard of someone not wanting the perfect man," she said and tossed me a sympathetic look as though I were an invalid or something.

Then she went to scanning the other person's groceries and I hurried out of there.

But yeah, thinking about the guys who I'm attracted to, they all have imperfections.

Tom? It's the big ear thing and the fact that he THINKS he's funny and he's really not. He'll say something that he believes to be funny and then he's met with cricket chirps in the background. Almost like he's tries so hard to fit in.

Elijah Wood? The gap in the middle of his front teeth, the fact that he's deemed short (he's 5'6) and the fact that he's been dubbed a nerd. I love nerds. Bring me the nerds.

Michael Phelps? Again, the big ears, the goofy face, the slightly messed up teeth. I like that. He's also been dubbed a dork and apparently was picked on in high school. I wouldn't have picked on him. I'd have hissed to my friends, "Quick, go see if Michael Phelps likes me.." while in high school. Sure they may have been all, "Erm, but he's a bit of a dork, Amber.." and I'd have been all, "Who cares??" That's basically what happened with my boyfriend before Tom. Everyone was all, "You could do SO much better..he's a dork.." But I didn't care. I like who I like!

John Krasinski. His messed up hair. I dig it. And again, yup, he's been called a nerd. The Office cast call him that a lot.

I guess I have a think for nerds and dorks.

I dunno.

Maybe because I am a nerd and a dork.

I also don't like men who look like models. As Edward does. The whole angel face thing that he has going on, according to Bella..nope, not my thing.

So yes. I may be the only non-obsessed Edward Cullen woman out there.

I read the series.

I enjoyed them.

And now I'm moving on to the next book. It'll actually be a little shocking to read about human beings again. I'll probably be all, "What, no vampires? No werewolves, no Volturi??"

Christmas 2008

So Tom went into work Christmas Eve night.

But then he returned a few hours later. I was startled when he walked through the door.

"You came back," I said in a stunned voice.

Tom gathered me into his arms. "Merry Christmas," he said and gave me a kiss.

Which was promptly interupted by a jealous Natalie.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" she shrieked and rushed over, wrapping herself around Tom's leg. She gave me a dirty look.

Tom picked her up while I asked what he was doing home.

"Holding Natalie," Tom answered in a cocky voice.

I swatted his arm lightly. "I can SEE that. I mean...I thought you had to work tonight."

"I did. I left," Tom joked.

I rolled my eyes. Tom would never do something like that. "To-om!" I whined. "What's going on?"

Tom finds it amusing to get me worked up for some reason. He likes when I jump up and down in frustration. He says he's never seen anyone do that before he met me.

"I got tonight off. So I can sleep and be awake when you guys open presents. Unfortunately, I still have to work on Christmas," Tom explained.

Having him home was a wonderful surprise though.

He helped me set up the room when the kids went to bed.

He seemed a little shocked that there was so much.

"I thought we weren't going overboard," Tom said, gazing around in shock.

"We didn't," I replied.

Tom looked like he wanted to argue but he bit his tongue.

The room looked like this:







And then we woke up at 7:30 to open presents.



Tommy was thrilled to find the airport Geotrax.



Natalie loved that baby in the stroller.



Jennifer got this for Tommy. It's a human body toy. He's all, "There's the heart, the lungs, the small intestines.."



Grandma got him this lego plane.



He thought these were cool.



Natalie started giving all her babies to Tom.



Natalie thought this toy mat that Jennifer got her was a bed. She was all, "Night," and pretended to snore.



Tommy loved this remote control car.



Tom showing Natalie her Princess breakfast set.



The creepy Yo Gabba Gabba gang!



Tom has been begging for a new razor. I surprised him with one.



She pushes this baby all over the house.



Helping Tommy with her piano. Tommy was all, "Natalie can share it with me, right?"



Since Tom had to go into work I made dinner early. We had ham, a green bean casserole, yams, mashed potatoes and rolls. Oh and devilled eggs, of course. Tom always has to have devilled eggs.

My day went by in a blur of opening toys, plastic twisty ties, cooking, cleaning, plastic twisty ties, cooking, cleaning...

My fingers started to become sore after opening the twentieth toy. I felt like I needed to soak them in warm water or something.

And still Tommy would approach me with another toy to open.

"Can you play with the toys that you have now?" I'd beg. "We can open that tomorrow."

"But MOM-MEEEE.."

Towards the evening I was cursing those plastic twisty ties.

"Hate you, plastic twisty ties. Twisty ties are evil. Twisty ties are evil," I would mutter.

And you know how it hurts like the dickens to stand over a lego with a bare foot?

Try a plastic ring.

Natalie got a jewelry set and the ring must've escaped her pile. I was trying to (you guessed it) clean and I stepped right over the thing.

Pain shot up my entire leg and I shouted a word that should not be said around young ears. But I couldn't help it.

After I tucked the children into bed I took a seat on the couch. My fingers still hurt. My foot still throbbed.

But my kids were happy. And really, that was all that mattered.

The Wal-Greens Debacle

So I haven't had the best day.

It didn't start out bad.

First, I had to run to the bank to cash a Christmas check. Usually family members just send us cash for the holidays. It works for us because then we can go out and buy what we want. I usually buy books. Or Gymboree. Though then I get scolded and reminded that the money is for ME and not for the kids.

"But," I'll argue, "I get just as excited buying new clothes for the kids."

Most people don't understand that though.

I did buy myself two new books with my Christmas money though.

I bought this one:



He's the author of one of my favorite books She's Come Undone. He also wrote I Know This Much Is True. Which is also a wonderful book. I've been waiting years for him to write a new book and was thrilled to find out that he had one out.

I also bought this:



It had an interesting concept. Basically this married woman wonders what life would have been like had she remained with an ex-boyfriend.

I'll probably also buy myself a few Wii Games.

Anyhow, after I went to the bank I had to go to Wal-Greens to drop Tommy's prescription for Vyvanse off. Unfortunately they do not offer it at the base pharmacy. Which means I have to actually pay for the medication.

Tommy's ADHD appointment was yesterday. They basically weigh and measure him to make sure he's growing properly.

He is.

He's now 44 lbs. For the longest time he's been holding onto 40-41 lbs.

And he's now 47 inches.

He used to be 46.

The doctor said he was perfect.

Awesome.

So yeah, I dropped the prescription off and said I'd be back in an hour.

Then we headed to Target to kill some time. Plus, Tommy received some Christmas money from his Great Grandma and wanted to pick out a toy.

He picked out Transformers.

Surprise, surprise.

And The Santa Clause 2. He's been watching The Santa Clause practically every night since the first week of December. When I informed him that there was a part two he got all excited. Yes, I know there is a part 3. But it was awful so we don't speak of it.

After that we headed back to Wal-Greens.

I gave my name and expected the woman to nod and go and retrieve the medication.

But no.

She went, "Oh. I tried to page you. The prescription you gave me wasn't on the proper security paper."

Huh?

I had filled the Vyvanse twice before with no problems. So I sort of blinked at her for a few seconds and then told her that I never had an issue with it before.

"Well," she said, fingering the prescription paper. "This isn't the right kind of paper. I don't feel comfortable filling it."

She smiled sweetly at me and tried to hand it back.

"Uh," I said, refusing to take it. "Could you please call the base clinic? I'm positive that they'll tell you it's legit."

I gave her my own sweet smile.

The woman's smile became a little stiff as though she weren't used to people arguing with her. She squeezed the paper in her hand and said, "I'll go check," in this tight voice.

Then she turned around and picked up a telephone. I saw her dial and then mutter a few things into it. Then she hung up, turned around and gave me another tight smile.

"They said it was okay," she said. It looked like she seemed a little disappointed that she was wrong. "I'll put a rush on this," she added.

I nodded curtly and moved to the side.

Ten minutes later she called me back.

I expected to see the medication all ready to go.

But NO.

"You can't fill this now. Our records show that Thomas should have enough Vyvanse until January 3rd. We can no longer fill early." She gave me another sweet smile and tried once again to hand me back the prescription.

You have no idea how hard it was for me not to screech, "All I want is the FUC*ING medication. That's ALL I want."

I swallowed it down.

"I filled a few days earlier before," I said, my voice bordering on pissed off.

The woman shrugged as though she could care less. "Yeah, the rules changed. We got reported to the board of Wyoming and got into a lot of trouble. We can't do it anymore." She started to push the paper back at me.

I pushed it back. "Perhaps you could call the base clinic?" I wondered.

The woman looked like she wanted to shout something at me.

"Look you irritating customer, I don't have TIME for this. Take your fuc*ing prescription back and come back January fuc*ing THIRD. Okay?"

She didn't say that. Instead she gave me another tight smile, grabbed the prescription and marched over to the phone.

She returned a few seconds later. "I left a message with the nurse. The doctor is calling me back to let me know if it's okay for you to fill earlier."

So we moved to the side and took a seat in the chairs.

Tommy started to get impatient at this point.

"What are we DOING? This is BOR-ING. What is TAKING so long?"

Natalie was putting on a show for the customers though. She had on her adorable Christmas outfit complete with the fuzzy white boots. When people would ask if she was ready for Christmas she'd nod her head and go, "YETH!"

If they tried to talk with her some more she started explaining what things were to people.

"Door," she told this one old lady who told her she looked adorable. "Chair," she replied when the woman asked how old she was.

"NOSE!" Natalie shrieked when another woman said hello.

After fifteen minutes I went back up to the counter.

"Has the doctor called back?" I asked hopefully.

Nope.

She hadn't.

I knew this would take awhile. Getting a hold of a doctor at the base clinic is near impossible.

So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

"Mommy! This is BOR-ING," Tommy repeated, sliding dramatically down the chair. He slid all the way to the floor and sprawled out like he was dead.

"Tommy," I hissed. "Get up right now."

"I'm sleepin'" Tommy explained and shut his eyes.

"Well you can't," I answered and bent over him. I tried to lift him back up in the chair but he went limp on me.

"Tommy Eugene," I whispered. "Santa is watching and Santa is PISSED! I mean, very very angry."

That did it.

Tommy immediately got back into his chair and gave a loud sigh.

Natalie continued to point things out to people.

"Floor! Wall! Boob!" She said the last one while pointing at me.

That got a few snickers.

I went back to the counter.

"Any luck?" I asked hopefully.

Nope.

At that point we had nearly been there an hour.

And Natalie started to touch everything.

"What IS this?" she asked, handing me some sugar free cough drops.

"WHAT IS THIS?" she wondered, tossing a DNA results box in my lap. Really? Those come in a BOX now? Interesting.

So I went back to the counter and said they could just call me when they got a phone call from the doctor.

I went home and relayed the story to Tom.

I may have used the words "fu*king Wal-Greens workers" more than once.

I mean I know they have a job and all but sheesh.

About an hour after I returned home the phone rang.

It was Wal-Greens.

The doctor said it was okay to fill a little early.

Just like I thought.

So I drove BACK to Wal-Greens. At least I was able to leave the kids with Tom this time.

I went back to the pharmacy counter.

And was told it would be ten more minutes.

SERIOUSLY??!!!

I forced another smile and took a seat.

Then I was finally called back.

$66 later I had the Vyvanse.

Finally.

To calm my nerves I decided to stop into Gymboree. I always am cheered up there.

Plus the Red Balloon Sale was supposed to start. Which means there are a lot of clothes under $10.

Of course my store didn't have a lot of that out yet. I was told if I came back Friday that more would be out.

"I'll be here," I assured my favorite worker Dorothy.

And then I came back home. When I walked through the door I held the bag with the Vyvanse up in the air in victory.

"Look what I got," I sang out to Tom.

"Finally," he said with a goofy grin.

My thoughts exactly.

Guess Who Learned How To....

...to tie his shoe?



That would be my son.

He's been working on it for the past couple of months. His fine motor skills have always been awkward and he sees an occupational therapist at school to help with that.

He's been growing frustrated over the fact that he wasn't able to tie his shoes.

"All my friends know how!" he'd moan at me, attempting to twist around his shoelaces.

I told him to keep practicing.

And then one morning, he all of a sudden shouted, "I did it!"

I was in the kitchen cleaning the breakfast dishes and suddenly a shoe was pushed in front of my nose.

"I DID it!" Tommy repeated, waving the show around.

And then I realized what he had done and gave a loud whoop.

He's very proud of himself.

And because I don't have much else to write about I'll just do some random photos.



Those would be the chocolates that Jennifer sent. Sometimes it rocks to have a best friend who works at Godiva. She sent me these delicious peppermint chocolates that were delicious. They were long gone by the end of the day. The only thing I haven't tried yet is the Godiva hot chocolate. I will probably try that on Saturday.



These are the cookies I made for Tommy's teachers. That's buttercream frosting on top. So good. I'll be making sugar cookies with buttercream frosting cookies for us next week. It's a tradition.



Natalie got into my chocolates again! Hmph.



This is what I'm currently reading. And ew, Bella is drinking BLOOD. I nearly got sick after reading that. No, she's not even a vampire. I won't elaborate in case you haven't read this book yet but seriously. Ew. Ew. EWWWW! So far I'm still Team Jacob.



Tommy had $20 to spend at the Secret Santa Shop at school. He bought this stuffed dog for Natalie, who immediately scooped it into her arms and told Tommy "Cank ooooo."



Tom and I got rings.



I told Tommy he could pick out something SMALL for himself. He picked out a dinosaur in goo.

The Christmas Concert

So Tom donated plasma this morning.

He had heard from a bunch of people at work that he could get $20 for doing this.

He came home with his elbow area wrapped in a neon green bandage.

"How was it?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. Anything to do with blood creeps me out. I passed out after giving blood when I was pregnant with Tommy and I nearly did with Natalie. The room had started to sway and black patches started to obscure my vision and I muttered that I was dizzy. A few seconds later a cool drink was pressed in my palm and I was instructed to lay back.

Tom has no problems with blood. I suppose it's a good thing, considering he's in the military and all and could potentially see combat one day.

He was able to watch the entire opening scene of Saving Private Ryan with no problems while I covered my eyes and kept asking when the gore part was over.

"That's war, sweetheart," Tom told me crudly.

Which, I know, but I don't exactly need to SEE.

"Giving plasma was easy," Tom told me with a shrug. He set down the folder of information that BioLife had given him. "A little boring though. You have to sit there for about an hour and you can't move your arm."

Then he started explaining exactly how plasma is taken out.

Ew.

I covered my ears.

"I get it. Thank you," I said when he started talking about how they had pricked his finger first to find out his blood type. I was beginning to feel faint just thinking about all the blood.

"Anyhow," Tom continued. "I made twenty bucks. And I want to take my best girl out to lunch." He pulled me into his arms and I shied away from his bandaged one. He noticed and laughed. "There's no more blood, Amber," he said in an amused tone.

"I know. I just...ew," I replied.

At that moment Natalie spied me in Tom's arms and gave an ear piercing scream.

She's incredibly jealous. If I so much as kiss Tom she has a fit.

I do not envy her future boyfriends.

"Oh. Little miss Natalie. Daddy still loves you," Tom said, letting go of me and scooping her up. He pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Do you want to go out for lunch? Where do you want to go?"

Tommy looked like she was really contemplating this. "Ummmm," she answered.

"I know where I want to go. QUESO!" Tom exploded.

Oh.

"Chilis then?" I questioned.

Tom nodded and swung Natalie around. "Queso rocks. Queso is delicious. Queso, queso!"

Weirdo.

He loves that queso though.

So we did go to Chilis. We were there right when the doors opened at 11. That's the only time Tom likes to go to restaurants. Otherwise they are much too crowded for his liking.

After we ordered--I got the Big Mouth Burgers and Tom got the quesadilla--oh and the queso, of course--I snickered and Tom looked at me with a confused expression.

"What?" he pressed.

"Only you would spend your plasma money on FOOD," I joked.

Natalie behaved the entire time. Basically so long as we get a booth she's fine. This means she's able to move around beside me. The high chairs have never worked for her. I've always marveled on how a family can walk in, pluck their baby in the high chair and the baby will happily sit there..THE ENTIRE TIME.

We were lucky if Natalie sat there for five minutes.

I shared my food with Natalie and she surprised me and actually took a few bites.

Sometimes getting this child to eat anything is a battle.

After that we came home and I got ready to head over to Tommy's Christmas Concert.

Tom decided that he'd stay back and watch Natalie. I was just worried that Natalie wouldn't want to sit.

So I left soon after we got home and headed to Tommy's school. I'm glad I left early. The parking lot was already mostly full by the time I got there. I found a seat and pretended I didn't hear the irritating trill of cell phones going off all around me.

Then the show started. Tommy's class was one of the first ones to perform.

I was nervous at first because the stage was dark. And before the show was supposed to start the entire room went dark and a droplight appeared on the stage.

Oh no, I fretted. How is my awkward kid supposed to find his spot on bleachers in the DARK?

My son, I love him to pieces, but he isn't that coordinated. Thank goodness Tom never expected his son to play sports.

While the lights were still off a low light appeared over the stage and I saw the kids start to file onto the bleachers that were set up on the stage. I didn't hear a thump or Tommy's voice so I let out a breath of relief.

Then the droplight turned on and the class stared back at us. My eyes immediately went over the faces, searching for my son.

And then there he was.

Right in the middle.

I could tell his eyes were searching the audience for me. But I knew he couldn't see.

Then the music started and he began to sing.



Okay, so it's not the best picture. I had my crappy camera with me. But you get the point.

After his class was over I left. I mean no offense to the other children but there was really no point for me to stay. I noticed a lot of other parents leaving too so I didn't feel too bad.

I figured I ought to drop by Tommy's classroom so he knew I was there. Plus I had gift bags to give his teachers.

So I headed for his classroom and then I ran into another parent that I knew.

"Hi," she said brightly. "I was just in the classroom. Your son is crying. He thinks you didn't come."

Oh.

Poor Tommy.

He so hates to be disappointed.

Though he doesn't cry much at school anymore it still happens occasionally. However, he's learned to control it. While last year he would heave huge sobs and throw himself into a fit, now he's able to cry silently and quickly wipe his tears away.

"I tell my brain not to cry," Tommy once told me. "Because I'm a big boy now."

I thanked the mother and rushed to the classroom.

When I walked in, Tommy's back was to me. He was squatting down with his friends in the make believe corner. I heard a loud sniff from him and then one of his friends noticed me.

"Tommy," he said. "I think your Mom is here."

Tommy swirled around hopefully. And then his face, which was blotched red from the crying, brightened up. He quickly wiped the stray tears away and shouted, "MOMMY!" Then he bounded over to me and threw his arms around my chest. "Mommy," he said again, his voice muffled.

I hugged him back and pressed my lips on the top of his head. "I told you I'd be here," I said. "I promised."

He pulled away and gave me a wide grin. He sniffed one last time and whispered, "I'm sorry I cried."

"That's okay," I said, and cupped his chin lovingly in my palm. I gave him a kiss on his cheek, knowing that my days of doing so in public were most likely numbered.

His teacher smiled brightly at me. "We did have a few tears," she explained. "But I kept telling him that I figured you would show up. You always show up when you say you will after all."

Tommy took my hand and pulled me over to his cubby. "Mommy," he said. "I made you a card." He went through some papers that were in there and pulled out a red card that was crookedly cut. He handed it to me and pointed out the writing. "See? I wrote, "'To Mommy From Tommy. I love you.'" He pointed out each word as he read it to me and gave me another wide grin.

I held the card to my heart. "I love it," I told him. "It's fantastic."

Tommy's grin grew wider.

I took a deep breath. "Well. I better head off. I know your recess is ending soon and you need to get back to work."

Tommy nodded seriously.

"But you sang wonderfully."

"Did you see me?" Tommy asked excitedly.

"I did," I answered. "You looked very handsome."

Tommy nodded again. "Oh yeah," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

And then with one last kiss for my boy I left.

Tomorrow is his last day of school before Christmas break. And then he's off for two weeks.

"Christmas is next week!" Tommy keeps reminding me. As though I could possibly forget.

I'm excited about it too. I can't wait to see Tommy's expression when he realized that he's received both the Grand Central Station and Airport Geotrax sets. He thinks he's only getting one because, "it's very very big and Santa only has room for one."

He's such a good kid.

Chocolate Gifts and College

Okay, so the UPS man dropped off one package yesterday.

It was a small order from Crazy8.com which is from the makers of Gymboree. Only slightly cheaper. They were having an excellent sale with free shipping so I bought 4 items that came to a total of $15. For Tommy. I let him pick out what he wanted since he has a Clothing Opinion and won't just wear whatever I lay out for him anymore.

It was Phil, the nice UPS guy thank goodness, who brought the box to me.

I think I've frightened Frank, the cranky UPS guy, off.

Phil knocked politely at my door and when I opened it he flashed me a wide smile.

"You get more packages than the man on the moon!" he said cheerfully, handing over my box. "I'm shocked that there is only one today."

I took it and thanked him. "Usually I don't get this many boxes," I felt the need to explain. "But Amazon.com is having an excellent toy sale at the moment. I ordered three more items so you'll probably be back in a few days."

Phil didn't even looked irritated. He just nodded his head and said, "Then I guess I'll see you soon."

Because he was so polite, I decided to get him a box of chocolates as a thank you. I went to the commissary this morning and bought a few boxes of those Pot of Gold chocolates from Hersheys. So good.

I bought one for the UPS guy and Tommy's teachers. And he has a lot of them. He has his regular teacher. His two resource room teachers. His two language lab teachers. Plus I got a holiday themed bag of M&Ms for the librarian since Tommy is always talking about her. He says she's very very funny.

Oh and I bought some M&Ms and some chocolates for his bus driver. He's always been patient with Tommy. Especially last year when Tommy had all his crying fits.

I have Phil's chocolates and a thank you card all ready to go. Because I think the Amazon packages may be coming today.

If it's Frank, however, he won't be getting a thing. I can do without his annoyed expression and the cigarette smell that seems to surround him.

I'm also making some cookies tonight to add to the teacher's goody bags.

Also, while we were at the commissary a lot of people admired Natalie's outfit.

She had this on:



With her furry white boots on.



This is the shirt underneath it.



In other news, I inquired on how many college credits I had.

This is what I have:





I am embarrassed over those Bs and that one C. This was before I had Tommy and I didn't take school seriously. After I had Tommy and I started to take some classes I realized that I needed to really study hard. I admit, before kids, I barely looked over my notes. I'd stroll into the class and wouldn't even care if I didn't get an A.

That all changed after I had Tommy. I guess I felt like I needed to show him that it was important to do well in school. Granted I'm not saying a B is a BAD grade...but when you know you can do so much better, it's just not good enough for me.

However, that C in College Algebra? Yeah, that was seriously the best I could do. I HATE math. Plus I took a summer course where everything was cramed into like 6 weeks. That was dumb of me to take that class. I obviously need the entire semester. I was so incredibly lost in that class.

You may be wondering what my major is?

I have no idea.

I was going for my Early Childhood Education degree. That's why I have all those Child Development classes. But then I realized that I don't really like other people's children. (Unless you're a friend of mine, that is.)

So yeah.

No idea.

When Natalie is older I hope to get my degree. I just want to show my children that college is important, you know?

Plus I know I need more for my life. I love staying at home with my children but I need more. My dream would be to get my book published. But if that doesn't happen, well, I need to find something else to do.

For some reason the idea of being a receptionist sounds appealing but I think it's just because I've been watching The Office a lot. I have to remind myself that if I did become a receptionist that there would be no Dwight Shrute or no Jim to stare at.

I also have another class that I need to get my transcript for. I took another history course.

I eventually need to do a Biology class I think. Blech.

So that's that. My college courses, thus far.

Another Anti-Cell Phone Entry

I just finished reading Eclipse.

Which, for those who don't know, is the third book in the Twilight series.

Don't worry, I'm not going to go ga-ga over Edward. Because to be honest, he sort of creeps me out. Maybe because I like my space. He's just always around. He's always there in her room, watching her sleep.

That's creepy to me.

I know he's protecting her and all but, I mean, what if Bella snores? Or farts in her sleep?

That's not very romantic.

And the fact that Alice, Edward's "sister" can read Bella's thoughts. That would disturb me. I think some pretty bizarre things sometimes and it's best that those thoughts remain in my head.

I guess you could say that right now I'm Team Jacob. We'll see if Breaking Dawn changes my mind.

Anyhow, on Saturday we decided to have lunch at The Olive Garden. You have to get there right at 11. Otherwise it'll be packed. I see people waiting outside to eat there all the time.

We got there around 11:03 and were brought right to a table. Well, a booth really. We always request a booth because at least it means Natalie can stand up and such. However, she started to lean over the booth and tried to talk to two women who were in the next booth over.

"Peeky boo!" Natalie said, bobbing her head up at them and then ducking down beside me.

Don't worry, I stopped her from doing it again. I happen to realize that not everyone loves my children as I do. Some people probably ought to comprehend this too. It baffles me when I see parents allow their children to roam around a restaurant. Or to stare at other customers. I HATE when other kids stare at me. If I catch Natalie or Tommy doing that I tell them to stop.

But some parents just allow their kids to STARE.

One time this one little boy (probably around 3) just gaped at me the entire time.

I waved politely at first, as I always do, and hoped that he'd move on and concentrate on his meal.

But no.

He just continued to stare.

And his parents just happily went on with their conversation.

Thankfully, this time at Olive Garden I didn't have any other children around me. Except for my own. Tommy happily colored on his paper children's menu and Natalie became amused with my cell phone.

Then this huge group of elderly people came in. We were seated across that giant party table that seats like ten or something and they all shuffled in and took their seats. I guess their entire party wasn't there yet because there were some empty seats and one old lady went, "Where are the others?"

And then a shrill cell phone ring pierced through the air. Seriously, it was LOUD.

And annoying.

I'm wondering if this old lady got it as a Christmas gift or something because she had no idea how to turn it on. She pulled it from her purse as it continued to ring and went, "How do I talk?"

Another old lady leaned over and pressed a button for her.

"Now you can talk," she said.

But I guess the person on the other end had hung up because when the lady brought the phone to her ear she went, "No one is there. HELLO? HELLO?"

It was difficult to start a conversation with Tom. We started one and then the loud cell phone started again.

"Okay, someone needs to teach that woman how to change her ringtone," Tom groaned, rubbing his temples. "That is just annoying."

The ringing went on and on because I guess the woman forgot how to turn it on again.

Then the ringing stopped.

I started talking to Tom again.

"So what are you getting with your Christmas money?" I asked.

Tom opened his mouth to answer.

And then the cell phone went off again.

Seriously, I wish cell phones could be banned in restaurants. I hate hearing them go off and I don't care to listen to other people's conversations.

(Well, unless they're particularily juicy. Like once this woman was talking to her lover I'm guessing because she was muttering, "He won't be home tonight. You can come over. Bring the lotion.")

But most conversations are dull. As in, "Where are you? I'm here." Or, "Could you pick up some milk?"

I mean geez.

"I think I'm going to get Mario Party with my Christmas money," I told Tom after the cell phone ringing had ceased. From the corner of my eye I saw a bunch of old ladies scramble around the small silver phone. I think they finally got a hold of the person who was trying to call because one of them shouted, "We're at Olive Garden. Should we order or do you want us to wait? I could order an appetizer now if you want!" Then I heard the muffled voice of the woman over the phone. I couldn't understand but then another old lady practically screamed, "YES. I can get that. It comes with CALAMARI, the MOZZERELLA STICKS and I THINK some OTHER THINGS!"

Okay, obviously that party table needs walls around it. And a door. So people don't have to be subjected to said party.

"If they weren't old I'd have told them to shut up," Tom said angrily.

Our food came soon after that. I got the chicken carbonara. Which was pretty good but I thought it was going to be so much better.

Oh well. The salad and breadsticks were delicious at least.

"How is yours?" I asked Tom, gesturing with my fork to his plate. He got some pasta with chicken and shrimp. Ew.

"It's--"

But then Tom was cut off.

Because yes, you guessed it, the cell phone went off AGAIN.

So we pretty much finished our food and left. As we were leaving the woman who kept calling came in. She walked past us, spotted her group and shouted, "I FINALLY MADE IT!"

No crap.

Would have been nice if you had made it like a half hour ago so I could have enjoyed my lunch.

So please. If you have an incredibly loud ringtone, please lower it when you're in a restaurant.

Or better yet, turn off your phone.

Or at least put it on vibrate.

I Am What I Am - 100%

My cousin Judy sent me an email today. It caught my eye immediately. It was entitled "I Am A Teacher" and by a man named John W. Schlatter. I had to share it with you all because it pretty much sums me up and it may mean something to many more of you.

I am a Teacher.
I was born the first moment that a question leaped from the mouth
of a child.
I have been many people in many places.
I am Socrates exciting the youth of Athens to discover new ideas
through the use of questions.
I am Anne Sullivan tapping out the secrets of the universe
into the outstretched hand of Helen Keller.
I am Aesop and Hans Christian Andersen revealing truth
through countless stories.
I am Marva Collins fighting for every child's right to an education.
The names of those who have practiced my profession ring like a hall
of fame for humanity...Booker T. Washington, Buddha, Confucius, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Leo Buscaglia, Moses and Jesus.
I am also those whose names and faces have long been forgotten
but whose lessons and character will always be remembered in the accomplishments of their students.
I have wept for joy at the weddings of former students, laughed with
glee at the birth of their children and stood with head bowed in grief and confusion by graves dug too soon for bodies far too young.
Throughout the course of a day I have been called upon to be an
actor, friend, nurse and doctor, coach, finder of lost articles, money lender, taxi driver, psychologist, substitute parent, salesman, politician and a keeper of the faith.
Despite the maps, charts, formulas, verbs, stories and books, I have
really had nothing to teach, for my students really have only themselves to learn, and I know it takes the whole world to tell you who you are.
I am a paradox. I speak loudest when I listen the most. My greatest
gifts are in what I am willing to appreciatively receive from my students.
Material wealth is not one of my goals, but I am a full-time treasure
seeker in my quest for new opportunities for my students to use their talents and in my constant search for those talents that sometimes lie buried in self-defeat.
I am the most fortunate of all who labor.
A doctor is allowed to usher life into the world in one magic moment.
I am allowed to see that life is reborn each day with new questions, ideas and friendships.
An architect knows that if he builds with care, his structure may stand
for centuries. A teacher knows that if he builds with love and truth, what he builds will last forever.
I am a warrior, daily doing battle against peer pressure, negativity,
fear, conformity, prejudice, ignorance and apathy: But I have great allies: Intelligence, Curiosity, Parental Support, Individuality, Creativity, Faith, Love and Laughter all rush to my banner with indomitable support.
And who do I have to thank for this wonderful life I am so fortunate
to experience, but you the public, the parents. For you have done me the great honor to entrust to me your greatest contribution to eternity, your children.
And so I have a past that is rich in memories. I have a present
that is challenging, adventurous and fun because I am allowed to spend my days with the future.

I am a teacher...and I thank God for it every day.

Thank you John W. Schlatter for making me proud of what I do. I am a teacher and what I do everyday makes a difference.

The UPS Guy Hates Me...

Why?

This is why:



Most of those packages are from the Amazon.com toy sale. It really isn't as many toys as it seems. For some reason Amazon will sometimes just put one toy in per box. And some toys are repeats as I'm donating some to Toys for Tots.

But all these boxes makes for a disgruntled UPS man.

Three of the packages were from Tom's Mom which were filled with presents.

And Little Debbie Christmas Tree cakes. It's a tradition. She always sends those cakes to Tom.

Anyhow, I heard the rumble of the UPS truck and my heart fluttered with excitement. Sometimes I'm disappointed as the truck drives past my house. But that day it stopped right in front of the house. I watched as the UPS guy got out of his seat and walk into the back. Then I watched him walk back out and pull the dolly thing out--and then start loading box after box on it.

"Good mail day!" I exclaimed to no one in particuliar. I even clapped my hands.

Then the UPS guy huffed up to the front door as he dragged the boxes behind him. He did not look amused.

Because the day before he dropped off two boxes from Amazon.

And the day before that, one large box.

He's probably all, "Jay-sus, what is WITH this woman?"

Oh, and remember how the UPS guy used to be attractive? I dubbed him Chad?

He's gone.

One day some older guy dropped off my package and I assumed that Chad was sick.

Or on vacation.

But no.

I've never seen Chad again.

I wonder if some housewife took advantage of him and he got fired for it?

Hrm.

Now Chad has been replaced by an older man with thinning hair and a beer gut who I've dubbed Frank.

Frank doesn't smile much either. Chad always smiled as he handed me my package.

Frank sort of shoves them at me. If he even bothers to hand them to me at all. Usually he sets them all by the front door, rings the doorbell and waddles back off to his truck.

Oh, and he reeks of smoke. Which means my packages reek of smoke.

Gross.

Anyhow, yesterday Frank started to set each package by my front door. I stepped out and propped the door open so I could start carrying the packages inside.

Frank did not look amused as he set box after box down.

"One of your boxes is crying," he muttered.

To which I burst into hysterical laughter.

He looked bewildered--as though he had never had someone laugh at something he said before--and then his expression changed to wary. As though he were afraid of me or something.

But I mean I'm sorry.

You don't just tell someone that your box is crying and expect them not to laugh.

I knew exactly what it was.

I bought Natalie a baby doll at the Amazon Toy Sale for $8.99.

As I lifted that particuliar box up I heard it crying at me and giggled again.

Frank once again paused in setting a box down and looked at me as though I had placed my panties on top of my head.

When he set the last box down he hurried off to his truck.

Probably thinking, "Insane housewife who needs to stop shopping!"

I wanted to shout, "But Amazon only does this toy sale once a year. I haven't paid over $10 for anything I've bought. Amazing deals, I tell you! AMAZING!"

But I figured that would just scare him even more and suppose he refuses to give me my packages?

So I kept my mouth shut.

I carried all the boxes inside and then started pulling them open.

I rescued the doll first:



And found that it wasn't crying, but cooing at me.

Then I realized what doll this was. Those creepy dolls at Target who always make noises when I pass them at Target. The ones who always startle me and make me think that my underwear is showing at the top of my pants and that someone is laughing about it.

It kept cooing as I opened the other boxes.

"Shut up," I told it.

But it kept cooing.

So I shoved it in the closet.

I hope there is an off button. Otherwise the doll might just disappear someday and I'll tell Natalie that I have no idea what happened to it.

When Tommy came home from school he noticed the new presents under the tree right away. He notices everything.

Tom's Mom said he could open one so he did. And got Transformers.

Which I have no idea how to transform.

I was staring at the instructions but they weren't making any sense to me. And Tommy was crying because he couldn't Transform it back and I kept saying, "I don't know what I'm doing! I played with Barbies and My Little Ponies growing up. I don't know boy stuff!" And Tommy just got louder and louder.

Of course Tom was working so I couldn't run to him. Usually I always shove Transformers at him and he can fix it in a matter of seconds. Then he'll hand it back to me saying, "Um. That was really easy."

In the end I was able to fix the Transformer--sort of. One part I couldn't figure out but the top part was transformed. Which seemed to keep Tommy happy enough.

I better go finish cleaning. Dinner is currently cooking in the Crock Pot. I'm making shreaded chicken with salsa and sour cream. See, all you do is place chicken breasts in the crock pot. Cover them with salsa. Then 30 minutes before you eat shread them up and mix sour cream in. Cook for 30 more minutes and serve on tortillas.

Sooo good. And easy.

Seven Year Itch? Nah.

Woah.

I've been married for seven years today.

This picture basically sums up my relationship with Tom:



I'm insane.

And he's...well...not.

Last night we went to Wal-Mart and I casually reminded him that our anniversary was the next day and did he remember to get a card?

So he made sure to detour to the card section.

"Make sure you write something in it," I added cheerfully.

To which Tom rolled his eyes. "Why?" he boomed. "The card says everything already!"

It's a long standing arguement between us. I say that you should always write in a card to make it personal.

He claims that it's not necessary because the card already has everything that he would have written anyhow.

A few times, while we were dating, he'd hand me a card and I'd open it and nothing would be written in it.

"Uh?" I'd say. "Where is the writing?" I'd turn the card over in my hands in confusion, searching for his familiar scrawl.

"It doesn't need writing," Tom would explain patiently. "You see all that?" he continued, gesturing to the gold writing on the card. "That says everything already."

"But," I said, "it doesn't make it PERSONAL."

Tom always tells me that he's not going to write in the card.

But each time he does.

I woke up to this card at my place on the couch.



I flipped it open and...

Writing!



In case you can't read what Tom has written, he says this:

"I love you very much. I am sorry that work keeps me away from you and the kids all the time. Just know that all the bull that I go through keeps you and the kids safe. You are a very special woman and one of a kind. I am privledged to have met and married you. You are the love of my life. I love every moment that we spend together."

I left him a card of course:





As you can see, my card is one of the humorous ones. Tom's attention goes fast so I always get something brief and to the point. If I got him a card like he got me, he'd get that glazed look in his eyes and probably politely pretend to read it while thinking in the back of his head, "Oh. I really want to see that new movie Valkarie. How much longer do I need to stare at this to make it seem like I really read it?"

This is what I wrote:

"I hope you realize how important you are to me. I may not always say it but I am so proud of you. You work so hard so that I am able to stay at home with our babies. I can't tell you how much I appreciate that. You are a wonderful man and father.

I also appreciate you putting up with my crazy butt. I know I'm a bit strange at times.

I love you so much. You are my person."

I think Tom was confused on the whole "you are my person" thing.

"Oh," I said. "It's a Grey's Anatomy thing."

No presents though.

The Wii was our present.

Which, by the way, I suck at. The computer keeps beating me in tennis.

And once, during bowling, I accidentally hurled the ball at the pixelated Wii people behind me.

Oopsie.

I took these pictures of Tom playing with Natalie. She was "talking" to him and Tom was going, "Oh really? How interesting.."



Natalie's speak came out as, "Ba da da eh ah oooo ba.." She was probably saying, "Okay, when I'm sixteen you're totally buying me a car, right?"



I made this video last year. A lot of you have already seen it. But I'll re-post in for those who have not.

It basically sums up my relationship with Tom.

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

The Fire Truck Scare

So Tom called me from work on Friday.

I was in the middle of putting Natalie to bed. She was trying to get me to read a third book even though she knows she only gets two. She was pressing yet another Elmo book to my chest and going, "READ!" in an irritated voice. As though she were insulted that I would dare tell her no.

But then the phone rang so I leaped up and went to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Are you okay?" came Tom's voice. "Over the radio it said that a fire truck was dispatched down our street. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't our house."

I was slightly amused by this. He was probably paranoid that I had caught the house on fire with my cooking. Which, by the way, I've never done. I've come close a few times. And okay, I have set off the fire alarm. Twice. Was it my fault that the house suddenly got all smokey?

I remember that I set the fire alarm off when we were first married. I had decided to try out this new recipe because we were a little sick of Hamburger Helper. But I realized I had no idea what I was doing in the kitchen. I think Tom was a little stunned that he had married a terrible cook. Because after all, his Mom is a fantastic cook. In his mind, probably, all women know how to cook. He most likely expected to dine on delicious lasagna or an elaborate roast meal.

What he got was slightly burnt Cheeseburger Macaroni and frozen pizza.

Anyhow, when I set that fire alarm off the first time, Tom immediately clapped his hands over his ears to drown out the shrill beeping and shouted, "You don't know what you're doing, do you?"

Uh no. How did you figure that one out, buddy?

So when he heard that a firetruck was rumbling down our street, he probably flashed back to that moment and wondered, "Oh no. Did Amber decide to try a new recipe and burn the house down?"

"I'm okay," I assured Tom over the phone. My heart suddenly swelled with love. "You LOVE me," I burst out. "You really LOVE m--"

"Amber, I've gotta go. We're in the middle of an inspection, remember." Tom cut me off in the middle of my speech.

I didn't have time to say another word.

Because then I heard the click of him hanging up.

I put the phone back on the charger and did what any other adult in my situation would do.

I totally peeked out the window to figure out where the fire truck was.

I saw it down the street. I could make out a fire truck with the lights flashing. Plus a police cruiser in front of it with its lights going off. It didn't look out of place only because a lot of people have their Christmas lights out. So it looked like someone just had a festive car or something.

I gaped out the window and pressed my nose to the glass. I could make out a few fire people coming out of their truck. They had on yellow jumpsuits and those huge hats. I saw them make their way into a house and I continued to stare.

"READ!"

Natalie's voice broke me from my Nosy Staring.

I pulled away from the window and saw her staring at me with a look of annoyance. She still had the book gripped in her hands. The look she was giving me clearly said,

"Hello? Did you expect me to forget about this book and just go to sleep on my own? You should know me better than that."

I glanced out the window one last time and nothing new was happening. So I scooped Natalie up and carried her back to her room.

"READ!" she insisted, putting the book primly in my lap.

"Oh. Fine. You win," I said, opening it up.

"MoMo!" Natalie said happily, pointing to Elmo. She gave me a wide grin and my heart melted. I love that my children enjoy reading as I do.

After I put her to bed--which took twenty minutes (the kid is stubborn)--I rushed back to the window and peeked out.

Nothing new had changed.

Oh well.

I just hoped that no one was hurt. Or worse.

The next morning when Tom came home I threw myself on him.

"Huh?" he asked, stumbling back. He caught me in his arms. He's not used to be hurling myself on him first thing in the morning. Usually I'm half asleep and he's met with a zombie-like wife when he comes through the door. Which I know all the experts frown against. They say something like, "Make sure you look nice for your husband when he comes home from work. After all, he's been working with well put together women all day and he doesn't want to come home to a messy wife."

Well. All the women he works with are clad in uniforms and heavy equipment.

I really don't think I have much to worry about.

"Thank you for checking on us," I told Tom, kissing his confused lips.

He blinked a few times as though he had no idea what I was talking about. He probably didn't. Then recognition appeared over his face and he nodded. "No problem. I know how you cook." He gave me a wink as I playfully slapped his arm.

"Did you find out what happened?" I pressed. Seriously, because I wanted to make sure no one was hurt. (Okay, and because I was being nosy.)

Tom shook his head as he started pulling off his boots.

I held my breath, prepared for the musk scent that would momentarily stink up the room from his feet being pried from a tight spot the entire night.

"You didn't even check?" I wondered.

Tom shook his head again. "Why would I? It wasn't my family."

Ugh. Sometimes it's hard to be married to a man who isn't as nosy as I am. I mean seriously, I can tell him that I bought him a present and he's all, "Oh. Cool."

Whereas if he tells ME that he bought me a present, I start doing a jig around the room and I demand to know what it is. I beg him to give me a hint, a speck of a hint, a smidge of a hint, a teeny tiny dot of a hint...

"No hints!" he'll boom out at me. But a smile will be playing on his lips. I think he's amused on how excited I can get over things.

"Do you suppose anyone was...seriously hurt?" I asked.

Tom shrugged, pulling off his other boot.

I held my breath for a few seconds again.

"If someone was seriously hurt, we'd have found out about that," Tom assured me.

Oh.

Well that's good that no one was seriously hurt. Or worse.

But I still wonder what happened.

Maybe there is another wife down the street who has no idea what she's doing in the kitchen. Maybe her fire alarm went off and a tiny fire started in the kitchen and she had frantically called 911.

At least that would mean that I wasn't alone in the whole I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing-in-the-kitchen thing. I mean I'm getting better at it at least.

I went an entire week without burning something once.

That's a record for me.

What You See Is What You Get?

What you see is not always what I see....or what you get? I got out my passport the other day to see if it was current....and got my driver's license out to see if it looked like me....I had to admit....the more I looked at it....and the more I begged God to not let it look like me....it did....and does.....I am who I am.

Yet I worry, what will people think? When it comes to my appearance....but you know....God thinks we are fine just like we are. He made us.....Oh my....I must have found another idol....my image....so here I go.....sinning again.

You know when it comes to idols in my life....there is only one way to loose their hold.....repent, replace, rejoice. I know to know that bad boy specifically....in order to repent.....that is the only way I can take away it's power over me.....I have to identify it as a lie and understand that it is dangerous.....after I repent....I have to replace it with Christ....then rejoice......In the song, "Farther Along" there is a life lesson on idols we should all follow....." Tempted and tried we're oft made to wonder. Why it should be thus, all the day long. While there are others, living around us. Never molested, though in the wrong. There is no magic formula.....no money back guarantee...and you will not see a perfected you in 30 days.....but you will have inner peace and forever satisfaction. Praise God for His love, satisfaction, and being.

Bless you all, K

Wal-Mart Character

Oh, I keep forgetting to mention that I picked up our Wal-Mart pictures that we took.

I actually went on Tuesday before the snowstorm hit.

You seriously never know what you're going to see at Wal-Mart.

I've seen people strolling around in their pajamas. Which I guess isn't a big deal in the morning. But in the afternoon?

I've seen countless people muttering to themselves. Which again, is fine. I admit that I talk to myself. But not in public. I once passed this woman who was shuffling down the aisle saying, "But Dave doesn't like potatoes. Maybe I should make green beans? Does he like green beans? Maybe we should have a party."

I also see a lot of babies without socks. I suppose it's not strange if it's during the summer. But it's been cold here so when I passed a baby sitting in the cart with bare feet, I did a doubletake. Then I started to think that maybe they couldn't afford socks. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. But when I peeked in the cart I saw Mario Party for Wii and I know that it's $50. So if people can afford to fork over $50 for a game, surely they can afford socks for their baby?

I have to say that all the babies I encounter at Target have been properly clothed.

Wal-Mart is almost like a circus to me: you just never know who you are going to see. Or what you'll see happen.

Once I saw an old man take his teeth out and place them on the jewelry counter.

Or at the display case for the Twilight books one teenager gripped a book to her heart and shrieked, "Edward, BITE me."

Some people need to be reminded that it's a fictional book. There is no Edward. There are no vampires.

I still go to Wal-Mart though. Mainly because I like their bakery.

So yeah, I headed to the PictureMe studio and picked up my pictures. Of course the lady tried to get me to buy more.

"The studio printed extras and they can be yours for $7 a sheet. A fantastic deal!" she told me exuberantly waving her hands around for emphasis.

"No thank you," I said politely.

She looked stunned. Maybe I was the first person who told her no that day? Maybe she assumed that her jazz hands would hypnotize me into saying yes?

"Are you sure? FANTASTIC"--she said the word sharply--"DEAL!" She gestured towards a black and white photo of Tommy and Natalie together. "WONDERFUL...MEMORIES!"

At that point I wanted to giggle. I mean she was trying really hard, I'll give her that. But it was almost too much. She was like those flamboyant gays you saw in that old show where gay men taught straight men how to dress. I could feel the corners of my lips tingling and I had to swallow back a burst of laughter. Thank goodness I didn't have a friend with me. If I had, we probably would have locked eyes and collasped into loud guffaws.

"No, thank you," I repeated, working hard to keep a straight face. I hope she wouldn't realize that I was no longer looking her in the eye. I was now staring at the holiday hours and trying to focus on that.

The lady shrugged. "Fine. Okay." She seemed to have realized that she wasn't going to make an extra sale as she took the extra photos and put them away. I wonder what happens to them? Are they simply tossed in the trash? What a waste. Hasn't the company heard about going green? I'd hate to see what their carbon footprint looks like.

I took the pictures that I ordered and then went home.

I'm pleased with how they turned out. Thankful that Natalie didn't scream and have a fit. Because when Tommy was Natalie's age, he absolutely refused to cooperate for pictures.



As you can see, Tom is sort of smiling. I'll take that look over his downright pissed off expression from last year. Yeah he might look mildly constipated but I think it's the best I can get from him. It's not the best quality since I don't have a scanner but you get the general idea.



I wanted one of the kids together. I always try to get a good picture of the two of them but it never works out. Either one of them looks upset or it comes out blurry. I wish some of you fantastic OD photographers lived nearby. I'd totally fork out some cash for you to take pictures of my brood. And who knows, maybe you could get Tom to smile?



I couldn't decide which photo of the two of them I liked more. So I got both. Tom is really no help when it comes to picking out photos. I kept asking him which one I should get and he's shrug and grunt out, "Get what you want."





And then I got some individual shots.

Again, I was impressed with the children's behavior. Towards the end Tommy did start to whine that it was "taking too long" but I hummed the theme song to McDonalds ("ba da ba ba ba..") and he quieted right down.

I also have some fantastic deals to share.

Amazon is having their annual toy sale. A lot of their toys are 60% off. Sometimes even higher than that.

To see what toys are on sale go here:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html/ref=amb_link_82941971_11?ie=UTF8&docId=1000317451&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-2&pf_rd_r=0FBKM34NQANQ43FS01A8&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=465319111&pf_rd_i=360960011

And sometimes there are even more toys on sale. Just check out the bestselling toys and that will give you an idea.

Also, you can sign up for a free trial of Amazon Prime for a month and get free two day shipping.

Word of the wise though: if you see something you want, get it then. Amazon prices can jump back up in a matter of hours. I see that everything I ordered last night have now jumped up to at least $10 more.

Also Gymboree.com has 25% off everything with FREE shipping. I am trying to resist.

Happy Shopping!