Jolliest Bunch of Assholes...

It has definitely been a nuthouse this December.

This holiday season is kicking my ass, and I can't help but every day or so, scream - YES! YES, THE MENTAL LOAD!!!!! IT'S TOO MUCH!!!

And then I go drink four glasses of wine and pass out in my clothes.

Not really.


Well, really on the four glasses of wine....



This December has been a trip to Foxwoods to surprise my sister for her 30th birthday, kids birthday parties (4 parties in two weekends), a family going-away party, hockey games, dentist appointments, Button's hockey clinics, work holiday parties (3), Christmas shopping (as if I don't have enough between 19 people in our families, I have THREE secret santas for work), and running to the post office to get packages mailed to Seattle and TX. (Oh yea, and our Christmas cards - which have been sitting addressed and stamped for almost a week - finally got put out in the mail today.)

And let's not forget - Ms. Mack's SECOND BIRTHDAY is tomorrow!  She had her kids party on the 10th, her party with family on the 17th, and her party at daycare today (had to remember the cupcakes!) 

There's the kids' holiday party at daycare on Friday - for which I signed up to bring fruit.  (Store run last night for pre-cut fruit bowl.)

E's work party is tomorrow night, so after work (which I will hopefully leave a little early) I'll haul ass home and we'll celebrate Ms. Mack's actual birthday with the four of us (E will have to stop at the store for a cupcake) and then I'll need to start glamming up to leave when the Uber arrives around 7pm (yes, the company pays for ubers for everyone.. nice perk!)


Let's add on now - during the family party on Sunday, the IL's fed the dogs all kinds of crap table food.  So both dogs shit (TWICE EACH) during the day, so I walk in Monday evening and have to clean that up.
Zoey continues to have diarrhea for the next 36 hours.

This morning E reports it as slightly bloody, and warrants this calls for a vet visit. 


Of course, who is being left to shoulder all that? 

-_-


It's no wonder that I've forgotten to try and get a molar extraction done before our main dental insurance expires on 12/31/17.  But guess what - that office is closed on Wednesdays. 


So I'll try to remember to call tomorrow and hope I can beg for an appointment and - YAY - get a tooth pulled before New Year's Eve.


But for now - gotta run, the dog's appointment is in 45 minutes and I need to wrap up stuff at work, because I am so totally taking the rest of the day "to stay home and monitor Zoey and make sure she stays hydrated" (aka finish Christmas shopping for Secret Santas and for stocking stuffers from Santa for the kids, and for E's gift.)


Aren't you jealous?

On the Precipice

Benjamin Button.

A nickname that - I can't even remember when it first emerged - but it fits you.  You're only 4 (and a half!) but we've been told that you speak like a little adult, holding conversations about matters above and beyond (like the flight patterns when we flew to California in July, explaining to Gigi that we were "over HERE (NJ) on the map, we flew to HERE (CA), and you live  HERE (TX)!"  It's because we speak to you like an adult.  When you ask (the millionth question of the day) why, say - plants need good dirt and sunshine to grow, we give you an elementary explanation of photosynthesis.

I mean - the other night at dinner, you asked what the difference was between an illustrator and an author, both words perfectly pronounced!

"HEY MOM!  HOW COME BIRDS CAN
LIVE OUTSIDE IN THE RAIN?"


"HEY MOM!  WHY DO CARS NEED GAS
TO GO?"


HEY MOM!  WHAT'S A REFLECTION?"




"HEY MOM!   WHAT'S THE
SQUARE ROOT OF 64??"







You're tenacious in your pursuit of knowledge, and some days I can see your future so clearly.

As you build and create with blocks and legos, telling me at daycare pickup that "this is a crane, and it carries this car over here, and when the car is released (yes, "RELEASED") it will roll over this bridge, here," and I just know that you're going to be an engineer.

Sometimes your affinity for "cutting" makes me think you'll be a surgeon.  (And by cutting - I mean scissors. and ANY PAPER you can get your hands on.... We have to watch where we leave important mail around the house!)

THRILLED being able to wield a (little) pumpkin saw!

But then I think you're going to be a rockstar or musician, when you jam and rock out in the car (EVERY TIME requesting "Jon Jovi" and Creedance) and singing into the late hour while in bed - anything from Justin Timberlake's Trolls hit to that catchy tune that Dwayne Johnson, demi god from Moana, belts out. (Oh yea? It's stuck in your head now? You're welcome  ;) )

Or then I know for sure, you're going to be a scientist who travels the world researching the earth's crust and all its volcanoes (because that's one of your favorite themes for questions lately.... "Is there a volcano that just ALWAYS keeps blowing up?"   .... "What happens if every volcano blows up at the same time?"   ....   "Did you know Mommy that way way way down, there's LAVA and it comes up and blows out of volcanoes?!")

Maybe - maybe one day, we'll be going to one of your NHL hockey games at Madison Square Garden!  

Because let's be honest - this will be the LAST TIME you wear a NJ Devils Jersey...

Let's Go Rangers!!!

But really, you're going to be in politics.  You've been dubbed The Mayor ever since pre-school last year at daycare, and everyone knows your name, loves you and thinks you're the funniest and funnest kid ever.

They must not have seen your tantrum this morning.... which then leads me to believe you're going to be a lawyer.  You like to rebuttal when Daddy or I give you deals or negotiations - what pants you have to wear to daycare (not sleep-pajama pants) or how much more dinner you need to eat before dessert. Your solution? "Mommy - how about I eat just one bite of THIS BREAD, and then I can have a GOOD dessert, like a yogurt pop."

just one more mango, mooooom!!

You are definitely a funny kid, and I do my best to jot down the things that make your Daddy and I just double over in laughter.  Last week when Grandma was visiting, she came downstairs after checking on you and Ms. Mack (who was crying) at bedtime.  You said to her, rolling her eyes at your sister, "Grandma. Can you imagine having to listen to this all night??"

Holy hell, child, you can test my patience as well.  But if you didn't, then you wouldn't be your mother's son - stubborn AS ALL HECK!  That stubbornness will be both detrimental and beneficial for you in life (trust me, I can attest) - as long as you know when to curb it and when to let loose, it should serve you well.

Same for those mischievous grins, you little devil - they'll probably get you out of so much future trouble.

This is your last year before kindergarten, before "Big Kid School." (During one recent ride as we took a friend, 'Tommy,' along with us to daycare, your enthusiasm for beginning your academic career was, well:
Tommy: "There's the big school!"
Button: "no. no - that's the school for big KIDS. And after that school, we go to HI-EEE SCHOOOL! and after that, we go to college! and THEN we go to work, and we make a lot of money, and we can buy whatever we want!"

(But first. You still need a few more naps!)

Next September won't be as drastic a change as for some kids (and parents), since you've been going to all-day daycare for almost four years, but it feels to me like a precipice - the real beginning of who you will become.

And I cannot wait to see!