Blurgh.

After the holidays, I gave myself a virtual pat on the back. Almost mid-January, and we seemed to have escaped any bouts of sickness.

I should know better.

A quick stomach virus quickly blew in. Left trembling in its wake, my older daughter got the Fifths Virus. Then the little one got impetigo.

I haven't been alone in 168 hours. Yes, I'm counting.

The dog? He's a happy camper. The Mom? Not so much.

George

I haven't talked about this guy in awhile.

This is George.

He is adjusting to Texas. He doesn't like the heat, and is apparently allergic to everything in our backyard. He loves to watch the squirrels race by- but quickly learned that barking at them will set off our burglar alarm and cause quite a bit of hulabaloo.

Today is the kind of day that George loves. It's a sick day. My little one is home with a stomach virus, and yours truly isn't feeling that great either. We both fell asleep for a bit, and when I woke up- some kind and considerate four legged friend left a tennis ball on my stomach.

Subtlety is not one of George's strong points.

2011

Um, hi there. Is this thing on?

Happy 2011! Along with the usual "Hey, let's not be a fatty" new year's resolutions, I'm going to try something different this year. When I sit back and think about some of my favorite days- excluding the obvious ones- the wedding, the births, the day I met Jerry Seinfeld backstage at the 1992 Emmys, I realized something.

Most of my life's favorite moments are small ones. Unexpected little gifts that did not come with an anticipated check off of my calendar.

I love those small moments. And I like to think that when I'm gumming jello in the nursing home, my cup will be runneth over with millions of tiny memories that will leave me warm & fulfilled. If not, I sure hope the drugs are good.

So this year, I'm all about the small moments. The connecting with those that I love. The impromptu games of Trouble, the silly voices I give Barbie, a quick walk around the block. This year will have more Saturday morning snuggles. More doughnuts. More puzzles. More letter writing. More phone calls. More reaching out to those that I love that I've lost touch with.

I want to know the people I share my life with. I want to know them BETTER. And I want them to know they are loved.

Happy New Year, my friends!

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like...

Holiday season kicked off today.

I made my annual trek to the Houston Nutcracker Market. For those not in the know, the Nutcracker Market is the annual fundraiser for the Houston Ballet. Basically, it's like a tradeshow for girls. With booze. And no kids (ahem! strollers) allowed. Picture every interesting boutique this side of the Mississippi, and they have a booth. Same goes for every kind of tasty food. Home decorating. Jewelry. Nonsensical stuff you didn't even know existed. Station after station of wine bars, wine-a-ritas, bloody marys, mimosas. Tons of Christmas decorations.

We lined up, tickets already in hand, at 10am. Today was the first day the show opened. We had to wait for more than 30 minutes to get inside the building. (It's THAT crazy!) After we got in, my girlfriends and I did a happy jig and loudly wished each other a "Merry Christmas." Then we hightailed it over to a bar and got our shop on. Kids are in school for only so many hours!

If anyone is interested in going to the Nutcracker Market with me next year- you are most welcome! Please just help me find a buyer for my house in California. This rental house is now brimming with Xmas decorations that need more room.

For The Record, We Don't Know Any Pams

My Lucy is turning five. FIVE! She cannot wait, and is eagerly counting down the days (one left-) before the clock turns and she is now one entire hand old. I am furtively trying to figure out how I can get footie pajamas in a size 6- because I cannot fathom not having any anklebiters in footies. No footies equals a freaked out mamma.

My baby grew up a lot this year. She handled the move with grace and aplomb (I love that work- it sounds like a wonky fruit). She quickly slipped back into old friendships, but has also made some new ones. She is now reading. She is now writing. She is now telling jokes and silly stories that regularly keep us all in stitches.

One day, a few months ago- we were in the car. Kids are in the backseat, radio was on low. Lucy starts calling her sister by her family pet nickname- "Anne-Anne."

"Don't call me that, Lucy." Annie says. "I hate that name, and I don't want anyone to know you guys call me that."

Lucy pauses for a moment, and then says, "Ok, Pam."

Happy Birthday, my girl. Your Mommy loves you.

Hold Me

I like to tell jokes. This is both a blessing, and a curse. My husband likes to think that I have a sixth sense to inappropriately inject humor into un-funny situations. I don't like to admit this, but he's right.

It happened again this week. My daughter's school hosted a "tea" for parents. At 2:00 in the afternoon, on a Thursday. I put on a dress, took out my greasy ponytail, applied some makeup and tried to act well mannered. The tea took place in an empty 4th grade classroom. The head of the lower school sat in the middle of a horseshoe of tiny chairs- and encouraged the parents to join her in a casual conversation of raising children.

Sounds pretty harmless, right? Sitting next to me was an older mom- probably late 40's. Gorgeous. She was wearing a designer dress, beautiful boots. She had a huge men's sized Rolex on one wrist- a chunky gold bracelet on the other. Apparently, she has a third grade daughter that is growing up way too quickly for her comfort level.

During a conversation of study skills, Men's Rolex Lady continually asked why the third graders got so much homework. "There's no time to smell the grass!" she complained. She then went on to say that she decidedly refused to allow her daughter to participate in any after school activities this year because "this is the last year she'll want to spend time with me and I'm going to enjoy it. "

Alrighty. The conversation then shifted to advice the more seasoned parents could give new parents arriving to the school- and instead of suggesting the fall festival, or Santa's Breakfast, Men's Rolex Lady pipes up and encourages us to "just hold your little ones. Hold them for as long as you can."

That's when Genius me piped up and giggled, "Sounds like someone needs to hold YOU."

Oof. It was like all of the air sucked out of the room and I suddenly morphed into Fozzie Bear looking for the big hook to drag me off stage. Men's Rolex Lady's eyes got hard, and she stared at me for a full five seconds while I squirmed and felt that my little seat was growing smaller by the minute.

Someone quickly changed the subject. I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the affair. Afterwards, I approached Mens Rolex Lady, and apologized- explaining that I was just kidding, and that I hoped I had not hurt her feelings. And in the meantime? I need to brush up on my manners- these Southern ladies mean business.

Shop Till You Drop

Monday. Blurgh. As some of you know, I like to cook big family dinners on Mondays. Today, I was inspired by this recipe mostly because the weather has turned and I can think about baking a biscuit, and also- pickled jalapenos! My love affair continues.

So I'm in the local HEB Market. I go through the arduous task of selecting all my produce- weighing them & printing out the little sticker price tags. I make it about half way through the store, and stop in the cereal aisle. After finding my kids' Raisin Bran Crunch (Mommy's little fiber helper) I look up, and my cart is gone. GONE.

I immediately start to run- 45 minutes has already gone into filling that cart, and I really don't want to start again. I grab my box of cereal and start running the aisles- furtively looking at everyone's cart- and hoping against hope to find one with a pink bag of Baked Lays chips. (October is breast cancer awareness month- did you know?)

In other words, I look like a complete lunatic.

In the frozen foods section, I spot a cart with a pink bag of potato chips. I glance down, and the woman pushing the cart looks at me like I'm going to mug her Batman fruit snacks.

"Ummm.... I think you took my cart by mistake." I say as I notice my chili fixings, pickled jalapenos and HEB Kettle Corn (do not judge).

"OH CRAP!" the woman bellows, and I instinctively take two steps away from her and bump into the case of frozen pizzas.

"Where the hell is MY cart?" she says as she grabs her Batman fruit snacks and glowers at me.

"Cereal aisle?" I gulp and quickly grab the cart and hightail it over to ice cream.

Next Monday I'm ordering pizza.