Pictionary

Okay, now that I'm home, I'm trying to do my Write Night entry. I asked Wes what he remembered from the holidays, and he said, "Pictionary."

"Pictionary?" I wondered, then remembered the Christmas Eve game in Albany. I guess we've played Pictionary the last two years, so now it's a tradition. We build traditions quickly in our family. We also realized this year that we had been making candy for about twenty years--that's one of the more longstanding traditions in my family.

Okay, back to Pictionary. This year, I decided not to play. Instead, I helped our nephew in case he wasn't sure what a word was. Wes teamed up with our niece, putting the artist and the brain on the same team. Of course, they won, and now they're not allowed to work together any more.

There were some moments of brilliance, though. Wes drew a house. In one room he put a toilet and a shower. The shower was dripping water. My niece shouted out, "House of bathing." The clue was bathroom, but the ensuing laughter prevented any more guesses. Later my nephew drew a house with money symbols in it, and his partner shouted, "House of money." They never got bank out of that one either.

Okay, I can't write anymore because we turned on American Idol, so now we're busy laughing at the people who don't know they can't sing. (I can't sing at all, but I know that, so I don't sing in public.) Gotta go laugh.

Christmas with Anna

First, Donna did NOT ignore the cakes from Red Velvet. She ate 15 layer chocolate in front of me. Yes, I'm bitter.

This was Anna's first Christmas, so we spent our time making sure we scheduled time with everyone. Most of them came to our house, but it still seemed more hectic this year. And yes, I bought Anna presents. After I swore I wouldn't because she didn't even know it was Christmas. Oh well, commercialism wins again.

Our Christmas went pretty smoothly overall, so here's my Christmas gripe. If you don't know what to buy someone, get them a gift certificate you know they will enjoy. Not a sweater. And please, stop buying my child ugly clothes. I hate princess stuff. And tiaras. And anything froo-froo. Trust me it's a word. I know that one day my daughter may want to dress up as Cinderella, and when she does, that will be okay, but I'm not buying her pink frillies with tulle and sparkles. I want a little girl, not a Barbie doll. I have too many friends who think they can't be happy until their married, and not to just anyone, but to a Ken doll with a good job, good hair, and a great wardrobe. Doesn't matter how the prince treats her as long as he's rich. Yea, I'm the product of divorce. So, I don't want Anna to expect a prince, nor do I want her to play dumb to look pretty. I want a self-sufficient princess who can kick prince charming out of the castle when she finds him in bed with another girl in tulle. And if her prince is a real prince, he won't expect her to look perfect all the time and he'll let her express her opinion. And those princes don't normally want fairy tale princesses anyway. So what I'm saying in a not so brief way is buy my daughter books, or gift certificates or outfits that match my style or hers. Not red velvet with fur or cheetah print. She's a baby, not a streetwalking princess. Let's keep it that way.

Quiet Holidays

A trip to Gulfport for Thanksgiving was eventful. My son's in-laws joined us, and they are quite as insane as us, a nice revelation. It was a quiet weekend though. A couple of weeks later I graduated, a minor accomplishment haha! Parents visited, lots of cards, tea, and crosswords. A quiet Chrsitmas, hubby lost a job, but he got another one today.

Well that was boring. I suppose that is my life really. I have loads to do and always keep busy, but it is just routine stuff. I need to have a vacation where the fun is unplanned and inconceivable.

So what shall I write about??? My grandson has a first tooth, and since my son will be going to Afghanistan this year, and his wife and baby will be living in LA, I do not know when I will get to see him.

My hubby's new job is in Dothan, so he will be traveling back and forth. Not much chance to visit family with a schedule like that.

Donna is walking baby Anna around, anything to try and keep her occupied while Lindsi writes. Only one 15 layer pice of chocolate cake touched this group tonight, a few lonely looking crumbs scattered around a small mouthful are reminders of what was. The fork lies prongs up waiting for a hand to hold it and scoop up a crumb or two, but it appears as if the wait will be in vain.

OK, I truly have no idea what to write, I am all over the place tonight and caanot seem to get a focus on anything that grabs at me as needing to be said to the world at large.

Write Night

Okay, folks, it's that time again--to sip coffee, avoid eye contact with the delicious cakes at Hildegard's from Red Velvet Bakery, pull out the laptops, and write.

Tonight's topic: Holiday Havoc. Share one of your favorite (or least favorite) memories from the recent holidays--Granny getting into the eggnog, your dog attacking the Christmas tree, pretending you love that six-week subscription to NutriSystem your mother-in-law bought you, etc. Let's share.

I think I've already won though. I have descended into true redneckdom. One of our toilets is currently on the back porch while Wes is doing repairs to the bathroom. Yep, my black lab is fascinated by it, and I just rush past it, pretending it's not really there.