Sunday, November 29, 2009

a check-in

I'm just finally coming down from my sugar cookie/turkey/stuffing high long enough to put together a quick blog post, lest my loved ones start to think me a blog slacker.  As usual, we're enjoying ourselves in California.  The family is fabulous, the sunshine is constant.  There's been a lot of shopping.  For the first time in....well, ever, I ventured to the mall on Black Friday.  Pregnant and prone to cankles.  With a toddler whose mall trips are limited to the short and sweet.  It wasn't my idea to join the deal hunting masses, but I'll admit I wasn't all that tough to persuade.  And guess what?  It was FUN!  Not too crowded, great deals galore, people watching after I'd made a nice dent in my Christmas shopping list.  And the Mister?  A total trooper.  As usual.  Other than a little lunch time insanity involving tossed apple fries for which he's completely forgiven since someone lost track of time and didn't feed him lunch until 2pm.  Whoops.

Mister A, recuperating on a mall bench at the end of our Black Friday adventure:

"Hey, Grandpa?  That's my hood, not a leash."

Not much else to report.  The usual pre-departure mixed emotions.  Mostly sadness to see a week I've long awaited come to an end as we say goodbye to departing family members one by one before our turn comes on Tuesday.  But of course, excitement about getting home to J, the pup, the kitties, and the continuation of the household Christmas-izing.  Oh, and there's some dread- I've got the gestational diabetes test awaiting me at the OB on Wednesday.  I'm pretty sure it should be illegal to test one for GD after a week of mass (and practically mandatory) carbohydrate and sugar consumption, but wish me luck anyway.  Hopefully the appointment will include a look at Bumblebee, who is growing at warp speed if my daily expanding tummy is any indication.  Orrrr....maybe that's the sugar cookies and stuffing.  I dunno.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

mister vogue

This is what happens when Mister A's grandpa takes too long at the Gap checkout line.  Mister gets bored, and Auntie and mommy entertain him (er ... themselves) with an impromptu photo shoot.  Complete with props.  And a little man who is clearly no stranger to the camera ... what a ham!



On this Thanksgiving-eve, I give thanks for so much.  My kind and loving J, my precious and sunny A, my sweet and busy Bumblebee, my amazing parents and sister and brother, my wonderful in laws, my far-flung family who are never far from my heart.  My beautiful friends who inspire and entertain and stand by through thick and thin.  My warm home, my good health, my adorably insane pet-kids ... my abundance of blessings both everyday and miraculous.  

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!  xoxo

Monday, November 23, 2009

so mean!

See this stink eye?
THAT is the stink eye of a boy with very, very mean parents.  Parents who say NO.  No to what, you ask?  No to joining daddy on the roof during yesterday's holiday light hanging project:

So mean of us, right?  I stayed inside with A, trying to engage him in books and dancing around to our Elf Christmas soundtrack CD and a discussion about whether he preferred my chestnut short Uggs or my chocolate tall Uggs with this outfit or that....all to no avail.  He just kept going to the window and making faces like this:

and this:

Hopefully, he'll realize I'm really not so mean when we get off the plane tonight and he finds I've taken him to see Grandma, Grandpa, Auntie Megs, and Uncle Michael for a very fun week of family and food and football.  And the beach.  Obviously.

Saturday, November 21, 2009

sorry, turkey

You know what's impressive?  That as big and awkwardly spherical as I'm becoming, I can still go from laying flat to on my feet in .00009 of a second when my kid falls headfirst off the couch.  We were lounging together, he catching some Sesame Street and me putting up my cankles and flipping through UsWeekly.  (Don't judge, judgers.  We'd just come in from circling the neighborhood with the wagon.  Twice.  And it's a very chilly, damp 58 degrees.  I earned this couch time.)  He crawled down the couch to cuddle the cat, and the cat wasn't having it.  I think there were claws involved.  Then a nosedive.  And that awful silence no mommy wants to hear when her kid has just taken a headfirst spill- screams are always preferred to silence, because silence makes you think he's broken his neck.  (Which he didn't.  Obviously, or I probably wouldn't be sitting here writing on my blog.)

Anyway, the whole point to that pointless tale is that I'm pretty amazed at how fast I can still move my 495 pounds of awesomeness.

And I have another confession.  The Turkey has been disrespected.  I know.  After the hard time I gave Monica, after all my turkey righteousness, I just couldn't hold out.  It started with taking down the fall decorations today.  Mister and I leave Monday for OC, and I wanted to get the fall things packed away before our trip.  But the problem was, after the golden leaves and jack o' lanterns came down, it looked kind of sterile in here.  Lots and lots of boring builder beige.  (Because my husband is allergic to colors, that's why our house is 90% builder beige after 3 years of inhabitance.)  So I went pawing through the Christmas bins.  Just to look.  Take inventory.  And I'll be damned if I didn't come to and find myself, stroller and A in tow, elbowing my way through the appliqued sweatshirt wearing mobs in the glittery aisles of Hobby Lobby.  Candles and sparkly twigs and wooden trees and I don't even know what else.  It was all 50% off, and truth be told, I got a little decor drunk and just bought one of EVERYTHING before those crazy old snowman sweatshirted ladies got it ALL.  You have to love A's 'roll with my crazy mom as per usual' attitude.  He just hung out in his stroller, munching on Cheerios from his snack cup, occasionally throwing out a helpful "GAH! GAH! GAH!" when he spied something particularly fabulous.  Like a flourescant light fixture on the ceiling or some glitter on his finger.  

So, Turkey, I apologize.  And I ask your forgiveness in advance for tomorrow, when I'll put up our tree and outside lights boss around J while he puts up our tree and outside lights.  But I assure you, Turkey, I'll still enjoy every bite of you on Thursday.  You and your BFF, the GBC (thanks, Nikki, for that superb acronym.  For those who aren't genius like The Little One, that means Green Bean Casserole.)

One more random note about our day.  This one's a tip for the non-moms in my reading audience.  So....probably for nobody, but I already started, so I'm going to say it anyway.  When you're at a packed shopping center during Christmas shopping season and set out to stalk a shopper leaving the building to snag that shopper's parking spot, maybe DON'T pick the impregnated lady with the stroller and the gazillion Hobby Lobby bags.  It's not even like I had a coveted front row parking spot, it was a mediocre spot at best, and just six or seven cars beyond my spot were about ten open spots.  But still, this crazy lady in a Ford crept along on my heels, slamming on her brakes and slapping on the blinker when she saw the tail lights of my car blink  as I hit the keyfob to unlock.  Seriously, lady?  This is a five minute process, minimum.  No, let's be realistic- probably ten minutes now that you've annoyed me.  Load bags into backseat, unbuckle kid, pick Cheerio debris off his face, arms and butt, set in seat, buckle into seat, get snack cup, hand over snack cup, pick up snack cup from the parking lot when he lobs it back at my head....I'll quit, but you get the picture.  And there she sat, blinker blink-blink-blinking and traffic backing up behind her.  'Tis the season......

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

on the job

There aren't enough zeros that could be added to a paycheck to make it more worthwhile than this form of compensation.  My sweet boy, his sunny smile, a happy afternoon moment shared over carrot sticks and graham crackers.

So while my job isn't glam or prestigious and the benefits are crap (some days, literally)...it's my dream job all the same.

Even if he looks like this one hour later.
Please, please, please let that just be mud.

Monday, November 16, 2009

momminess

Clearly I realize I'm a mom.  I've got a little person attached to my side and haven't gone to the bathroom in peace for a year.  However, I like to think I'm a cool, young mom.  I watch Gossip Girl, I read Elle, and my texting wpm is coming along nicely.  I don't go to the mall in sweatpants.  I refuse to listen to kiddie CDs in the car- A and I cruise along to the newest Britney or whatever I've most recently downloaded on iTunes.  There will never be a mini van in my garage, mark my words.  All that said, some days, the inherent uncoolness of motherhood overtakes.  And today, because I'm feeling honest, I confess.....

1) I went to a really classy store okay, fine, Walmart on Saturday.  (Don't judge.  I can't get out of Target for under $100, even if I just go there for, say, yogurt and toilet paper.  At Walmart, I get what I need and I run for my life.  And my hand sanitizer.)  Something I saw before we even got into the store made me really excited on this particular visit.  Want to guess what it was?  Keep guessing.  Guess more pathetic.  Ready?  It was NEW CARTS!  A whole cart corral crammed full of shiny, clean, brand-new carts.  I know, I know.  I probably should have kept that one to myself, but that's just not how I roll.  (Haha.  Get it?  Roll?  Carts?)

2) Christmas is a whole new experience this year now that I've got a child old enough to (sort of) grasp the concept.  It's become less about decking my halls impeccably with Pottery Barn's entire line of new Christmas decor, less about throwing booze-fueled tacky Christmas sweater parties....and all about hunting down the hottest toys in town, filling the underneath of our (babyproofed, gated off) tree with things that will make little A's eyes light up this Christmas.  One such object of my desire- the Fisher Price Little People Discovery Airport.  The Mister loves his toy airplanes and other Little People sets, and this airport one just had his name written all over it.  I had a Target coupon for $20 off of this $39 toy.  I KNOW!  That's like HALF!  (Right?  It is like half, right?  I didn't do so well in math.  Maybe it is half.  Either way, it's $20!)  Problem was, this toy was rumored to be in such high demand, especially after the release of this mega coupon, that my chances of getting one in my grubby mommy hands seemed slim.  So yesterday, with my boys napping peacefully, I forfeited my own nap opportunity and ran off to Target.  (And SWORE I was there for the toy and the toy ONLY!)  I'd be lying if I said my heart wasn't beating a little faster as I approached the toy aisle.  Then....there it was, sparkling on the shelf!  The TOY!  I grabbed it and sort of supressed the urge to jump up and down like I'd won a grandfather clock on The Price is Right.  Maybe I bounced a little.  And there may have been a teeny tiny squeal of victory that got me a side-eye from the lady down the aisle.  I left feeling victorious and thrifty  ..... though I did grab some face wash and gum and a Christmas CD.  But STILL- well under $100!

But just so we're clear on my Christmastime frame of mind: I'm certainly not going to turn Santa away if he happens to arrive with, say, these sweater knit Ugg slippers I've been lusting over.  It may be about Jesus first and Anderson second....but I've still got a pulse, people.

3) Those of you who have been following along since the old blog know the outlet mall is my special place.  In the old days of sadness and tears, it was where I went to self-medicate, leaving with a smoking debit card and a car packed full of Pottery Barn outlet goods, a new outfit or two, perhaps some shoes.  We went yesterday, and I bet you'll never guess where we spent 90% of our time and cash.  Yep, Baby Gap.  Mister A scored a huge bag of duds (for $52 during a big big sale with a big big coupon!) that will essentially make up his late fall and winter wardrobe.  As I stood in the never ending line with my arms heaped full of stylish toddler clothes, I looked toward the grown up side and didn't feel even a twinge of wanting to shop for myself, so giddy was I about A's so-dorky-it's-not sweater vest and slouchy hoody sweatshirt.  What did the adult portion of the family get on this retail outing?  Um, one little decorative holiday bowl from the PBO, a couple of stockings to replace the ones the cat peed on last year, and some dish towels.  Yup.  Cool.

And though it was hard, we did manage to resist this Nordic hat.  If anyone could have pulled it off, it would be A.  He's got some of dat der Nort'Dakota blood in 'em, eh.

4) This one may tie in lameness with the sparkly shopping cart enthusiasm.  I sniffed my son's butt in front of company, and didn't even think to be embarrassed until hours after.  A few weeks ago, I invited some neighborhood moms over for a playdate.  As one of the moms and I sat and chatted (about children's museums and the best shoes for early walkers, natch), I smelled something amiss in the playroom.  Instinctually, without so much as a pause in the conversation, I scooped up A and sniffed his butt.  In front of company.  Like I'm a Labrador Retriever.  Just.  Not.  Cool.  Only later did I stop and think that I'd sniffed another human's butt in the presence of someone I barely knew.  Not that sniffing butts is much better in front of people you really know well, but seriously.  Oy.


So on a note unrelated to my uncoolness, I've got to brag about my very cool baby sister, the up and coming PR star.  The one who definitely wouldn't notice new shopping carts at the store or know a Fisher Price Little People Discovery Airport from LAX, but who loves me anyway and doesn't judge me (to my face, at least).  She had her first styling gig on this recent photo shoot for Covers magazine and I'm SO proud to see her name there in the credits!  Ella Flynn better watch her back.  (See?  Another thing that makes me cool.  I watch Melrose Place.  The NEW one.  Ha!)  Anyway, congrats, sister- I'm sure it's the first of many big deal moments in your career!  

Friday, November 13, 2009

combing

Monkey see combing, Monkey do combing.  I think he's been spending a bit too much time locked in the bathroom while mommy "gets pretty".
video

Thursday, November 12, 2009

miss bumblebee

Oh, poor, neglected second children.  Remember when I was pregnant with A?  Each time I had an ultrasound, there were pictures posted to my blog, uploaded to my Facebook profile, and emailed to my 25 closest relatives and friends before the ultrasound goo was even off my stomach.  Or by the next day at the LATEST.  

I'm ashamed to say these photos of our sweet Bumblebee were taken 9 days ago at my ultrasound.  In my defense, I was sick with the VERY SERIOUS AND SCARY AND DEADLY SWINE FLU for a week, and then I was/am nurturing A back to health in the days after that, so it's not like I've just been twiddling my thumbs, too busy watching Soap Network to show off baby girl.  But still, it's a little sad, and I'll try harder from now on.

Without further ado, Little Miss B, 24 weeks.
Isn't she just the prettiest 24 week old fetus you've ever laid eyes on?  That's her umbilical cord she's snuggling up to her chin, which made me spaz out a little because it doesn't seem like something she should be playing with (what if she kinks it?  Or wraps it around her head?  Or chews it in half with her non-existent teeth?), but the technician rolled her eyes and assured me it's perfectly okay and as good a place as any for the cord to be.  Okay.

And here we have the diva pose.  "No pictures, I said!"

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

ridiculous

What's ridiculous is that this is the SIXTH consecutive post without a picture of A's cute little face.  As if yall come here to read about our various ailments and my post-CVS meltdowns.  Sorry.  I'll try harder in the coming days.  A's finally starting to feel a little better and may actually tolerate the camera in his face soon.

Quite an eventful day here.  First there was a miraculous lunch at Panera Bread.  Really, it IS a miracle when a 14 month old and a 9 month old sit quietly munching in high chairs, charming diners at neighboring tables with sweet smiles, and let their moms eat and talk and laugh for OVER AN HOUR.  See?  Miracle!  After that, we went home and I attempted to put the Mister down for a nap.  He'd taken one this morning (the first time in a week, but of course the one day we have plans to be out of the house by 10:50am, he'd decide to nap), but I pressed my luck and tried for another.  He was quiet in his crib for a few minutes, then babbled incoherently recited poetry for another few minutes, then there was some gagging.  Gagging is not really unusual, he likes to gnaw on his fingers with his new molars and this often means gagging.  But then there was suspicious silence for five minutes....followed by panicked yells.  Up the stairs I waddled.  (Yes, I've hit that point.  I waddle up stairs.  I accept it.)

***warning: if you've got a weak stomach, are currently in your gaggy first trimester of pregnancy, or happen to be eating, do NOT read the next paragraph.  You've been warned!***

As soon as I opened his bedroom door, the sour stench was unmistakable.  Like the sticky mess on a carnival ride gone wrong, the putrid scent of a frat house bathroom at 2am.  Puke.  Check another "first" off of the motherhood list o'fun.  While there was plenty of smelly spit up during those first seven months or so, there was no actual pukage.  I was afraid to look.  And rightfully so.  Chunky barf smeared around his face, through his fine hair onto his scalp, on his clothes, his sheets, his bumper, his poor unsuspecting teddy.  Blankie.  Rug.  Floor.  (I gather that he was standing when the incident occurred, otherwise that child has some very powerful barfing skills.)  Gooooood times.

All right, now that we've discussed that disgusting thing I shall no longer mention, I have a recipe to share!  This is an easy baby hotdish, and A surprised the pants off me by actually eating it willingly!  I used ground turkey instead of beef, substituted a bag of frozen mixed veggies for the the separate carrots and peas to save some time, and doubled the recipe to have extra for a freezer stash.  I found the recipe at wholesometoddlerfood.com.  Enjoy, babies!

1 cup cooked hamburger (or ground turkey)
1 1/4 cup cooked macaroni noodles
1/2 cup ketchup (OR one full can of tomatoes)
1/8 cup tomato sauce
1/2 can tomatoes, chopped (stewed tomatoes are nice)
dash Worcester sauce
1/3 cup cooked peas
1/3 cup cooked carrots

Combine all ingredients in large skillet, cook over low heat.  

Monday, November 9, 2009

fudgecicles!

Um, yeah.  I don't even know where to start on the hot mess that was this afternoon.  I'll just get to the point (for once).  Mister A has his first ear infection.  One ear is "raging and pussing" (go ahead, gag at "pussing", because I sure gagged right in the pedi's face).  The other is "milder but still painful".  Poor, poor Anderbug.  And poor, poor pedi's office.  We arrived at 3:30pm, A started screaming uncontrollably at 3:40pm (the approximate time he laid eyes on the medical assistant and her evildoing rectal thermometer), and HE NEVER STOPPED SCREAMING.  He clung to my shirt, miserable and terrified, just screaming away while I bit my lip to avoid tears of my own.  We left at 4:40pm and only when he was safely in his carseat, sippy cup in hand, did he take a breath and silence the screams. 

So as we drove away toward the pharmacy, A hiccuping and shuddering between sippy cup pulls in the back seat, I thought that had been the worst of it.  I'd get his meds, get home, feed him dinner, and settle him in bed no later than the usual 6pm.  Pfffft.  This plan wasn't to be, (no) thanks to the nitwits at CVS and A's pedi's erroneous belief that I wanted to pick up the meds at a CVS located in the middle of freaking nowhere, in a tiny town a good half hour from my house.  It took about seven Muzak-filled phone calls, a total of an hour spent idling at the CVS drive-thru singing every nursery rhyme I have in my repertoire to soothe the poor boy, and an excessive use of the pseudo-profane phrase "FUDGESICLES!  GOSH DARN MOTHER LEAPING FUDGESICLES!" before I got what we needed.  To add to the awesomeness, just as we were about to be freed, the CVS pharmacy window person apparently confused my saying "COULD YOU MOVE ANY FUDGCICLE-ING SLOWER IN THERE?" with "hey, I had so much fun paying yall $70 for my Tamiflu the other day, let me pick up the tab for the lady over in Lane 1 too!" and charged me $50 more than I owed so then we got to wait ANOTHER 15 minutes for the manager to come erase that transaction and ensure each lane was given the correct drugs.   

Finally, I walked into the house at nearly 7pm, meds in hand, crusty dried baby boogers all over my shirt, exhausted little A crumpled against my shoulder.  He'd never looked so relieved to be put into PJs and left alone in his crib.  He clutched his blankie and his teddy bear, smushed himself into a corner, and conked out.  Blessedly, he's on hour 3 without a peep, so I'm hopeful the meds are already kicking in and giving him some much needed relief. 

Phew.  That was all very therapeutic to get off my chest.

Alas, there is positivity times two.  

1) Mister and I both scored the coveted H1N1 vaccine at very long last.  I tried to not let my anxiety get the best of me, but A being without the vaccine made me pretty panicky.  There was some debate at my OB's office about whether I needed the vaccine, since I "most likely" already had H1N1 and if I did, Bumblebee and I would have protection.  However, I was a little uncomfortable leaving Bumblebee "most likely" protected when she's born in a hospital during flu season, and felt I'd rather be over-vaccinated than under.  Thankfully A's pedi wholeheartedly agreed and was eager to stab me with the goods, then stab A, who was so hysterical he hardly even noticed said stabbing.  

2) I got my new (to me) mommy-mobile!  I'd traded my beloved big SUV for a smaller SUV just before A came along.  Had I realized we'd lose our minds and have another child in less than a year and a half, I doubt I'd have made that trade.  So after a couple months of J searching high and low for a just-right big girl car for mama, he found one he approved of and brought it home to me tonight.  And I loooooove it.  There's room for like two MORE babies in there!  Juuuuuuust kidding.  No- I mean it.  KIDDING.  After the day we had, I'm thinking a tube tying might be on order come February 12.

Good night, sleep tight, send your 'get better soon, A' prayers.

Friday, November 6, 2009

animal kingdom

A sign that my kid has spent a whole lot of time at the neighbors' house this week?  Our cat is no longer sure which house we actually live in.  Sara sent this picture of Ralph peeping in her window earlier.  What a creep!

Then a few hours later, I heard frantic, unfamiliar yapping in our front yard.  After getting A laid down for his nap, I went out to investigate and found these two little guys with Ralph cornered in the bushes.  They were pretty proud of their cat hunting skills.  I called their owner, who said they must have dug out of the yard "again", and said she'd be by in a few hours for them.  Yeah, sure, why not?  So now, during my "nap", I'm listening to whining and the occasional yelp from our new friends in the backyard.  Griffin's at the back door whining and yelping right back at 'em, and both cats are under the couch hissing toward the back door.  (Don't mind the gross, smudgy glass door.  I have the SWINE FLU, remember?  It's a miracle I'm even able to TYPE, so forgive me if I can't yet muster up the energy to use Windex and paper towels.)


Swines and kitties and Toto dogs .... oh my.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

being swined, day 3

In case you were unaware, having the flu is right up there on the fun list with unmedicated root canals and, like, not having DVR on Thursday nights.  All pretty tragic things, right?  I'd argue the flu might be worst of all.  Especially when the flu means you can't do all the fun things your stay at home mom job usually entails- park trips, play dates, stroller walks, snuggling up and reading books.  Kissing your sweet baby goodnight without a face mask between your lips and his little forehead.  Walking up the stairs without having to sit down on the middle landing and cough up a lung.

Day 3, still feeling pretty cruddy.  Tired of sleeping alone in the guest room, tired of daytime naps where I sleep fitfully and wake sweaty and mumbling about getting that kitten out of the truck tire (?). 

However, I have one thing to be very thankful for.  Being sick has reminded me that I've got the best people in my life.  J gets up at 5am with A, works a full day and well into the evening, then stops at the grocery store to get milk and cheese and Kleenex, my mama checks in and worries as mamas do, my MIL offers to drop everything and come to help.  And the award for 'best flu helper ever' has to go to my amazingly kind friend Sara, who has taken the Mister into her house these past few days and loved him like she loves her own sweet little munchkins.  She's fed him and cuddled him and tired him out at the park and not for one second have I worried (quite a feat for me, you know).  I'm not good at asking for help.  I pretty much hate asking for help.  I don't like to feel like a bother or a burden or to cause anyone any inconvenience.  That's why I need a friend like her in my backyard- one who emails me at 8am and says (in so many words) "I'm taking your kid, you need to get better.  When can I come get him?"  So thank you, Sara and J and mama and MIL and everyone else who has emailed or called to check in.  I may be "swined" (oh, Hills, thank you for that one) but I'm still just oh-so-fortunate for all this care and love in my life.

Back to bed.  

Oink.  Cough.  Oink.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

very good, very bad

Today was a day of contrast.  It was very very good, and very very bad.  

I'll start with the good:

BUMBLEBEE IS PERFECT!  Well, so far as a fancy sonogram machine and experienced technician can tell us.  Heart, brain, kidneys, bladder, chubby wubby cheeks.....all present and accounted for.  Everything that needed to be checked out checked out very well, and there's nothing like getting to watch your baby move in utero for 25 minutes straight while your husband who swears he's scared to death of little girls looks on in awe.  She's already about 1lb, 11oz and measuring about a week ahead of her estimated due date.  And yes, she's still a girl, no new growths since we last checked.  I'm so grateful for this very good news.  And I'll upload a picture asap.

And now for the bad:

I guess I can quit worrying about catching the flu now, because I now have the damn flu.  Yes, quite possibly the swine flu.  I don't really even want to talk about it other than to say it sucks, I'm more than a little annoyed that all of my neurotic anti-flu tactics accounted for nothing in the end, and I'm on Tamiflu.  I've just had to quit reading all the back and forth debate about which is more harmful to my sweet innocent Bumblebee- the flu dragging on for weeks and invading my lungs and killing me ... or taking the damn under-researched, maybe-safe Tamiflu that should shorten the flu and keep me from developing scary complications.  I'm not pleased with either option, quite frankly, but the ($70!) Tamiflu seems the lesser of two evils and was my doctor's recommendation.  So here I am, all happy to be home and snuggle with my boys, quarantined to the guest room with a tiny television and box of Kleenex as company instead.  You suck, flu.  Please send your "healthy A & J" prayers now.  Obviously I am most concerned about the little Mister catching this, so if you see me in the next week or so (which you WON'T unless you're in my house), don't be surprised if I'm wearing a mask and my hands are scrubbed raw.  

As for the weekend, it was all good, even the game.  Wait, no.  Not the first half of the game.  That pretty much sucked and I would have taken a nap if 73,000 screaming people and sitting on chilly metal bleachers were conducive to naps.  But the Pack woke up at halftime and gave us reason for hope and cheering, even if the ending was not how we'd have liked it.  The very best part of the trip, though?  Really had nothing to do with football.  Or donuts or Dramamine or "stiiiinkin craaaap".  It was seeing mom and dad and Megan and Michael and Nikki and EVERYONE else that hopped aboard the fun bus for a really great day.  Love yall!

Here are a few pictures from happier, pre-flu times.

All the bus riders: a big, fun group of family and dealership friends

Megan, mama, me, Nikki

Welcome to Lambeau, Bumblebee!  


Me, brother Michael, sister Megan.  I know black isn't a Packer color.  One, I was cold.  Two, put a jersey on a pregnant lady and the effect is more "linebacker" than "cute fan".  Black coat it is.