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Actually, it’s the first day of February but I took these pictures yesterday. Just to clarify.
It’s the Superbowl today. Normally, I’d be all over it. I love any excuse to cook all morning and then sit around, socialize, watch a little foolsball and stuff my face. But two things have influenced the fact that today I’m doing the exact opposite.
#1 – Hubby’s working. It’s just not the same without him around and hollerin’, “Drink Wench!” I giggle every time.
#2 – Kids are sick. At least not with the dreaded flu I recently wrote about. So far we’ve escaped that one. But we’ve had some nasty colds that just won’t let up. And in case you don’t have kids and so don’t know this… sick, cranky, whiny kids don’t mix with football, relaxing and socializing. You’d find yourself very quickly either in a back bedroom trying to keep from going insane while everyone else watches your tv OR you’d be hitting the road within the first hour, heading back home with your snotty-nosed crabbies.
So here I type. Thinking of you, my bloggy-friends, instead of cheering at the tv and stuffing my face. Well, I’m actually still stuffing my face, I’m just doing it in private so it doesn’t require napkins. I might have to call the dog in to clean me up before I get up off the couch so I don’t make a mess of the floor as well as myself.
This past week I’ve felt a tad guilty. Why, you ask? Well, a lot of people have been suffering through some nasty ice storms, trying to stay warm without the help of electricity and setting up camp within the walls of their homes. I’ve been blessed not to have this worry. But my guilt comes in to play because I have the opposite type of weather and the fact I’ve been boo-hooing that I’ve gotten to wear a sweater this winter only a handful of times. We’ve been suffering through 70+ temps. Believe me, after seeing all your pics of icy trees and yards full frozen mess, I use the term “suffering” extremely loosely!
So yesterday I decided to actually appreciate my weather and quite moaning about my lack of winter. So we may be water-rationing in a few months… pshaw! Rationing – smashioning. Having a brown lawn is so easy to maintain. Brown’s the new green, right?
**We interrupt this completely random and blabbering post to inform you that Kurt Warner has 7 children. Did you know that?? I sure didn’t. I’m impressed by that. That and the fact that he shaved his stubble for his wife today. Nothing says love like a clean shaven face. Similar to loving your hubby enough to shave your legs even when no one else would ever know that you could braid your leg hair. **
Here are some pictures from our last day of January 09. We spent it playing with the garden hose.
Lucy and Lil Blue enjoying the hose together:
It didn’t take long for Lil Blue to shed his wet clothes and sport just his diaper. Look at that pasty white skin!
Hmmm, I can almost smell the wet dog from here!!
Water play tuckers a puppy out:
Her puppy sleep was interrupted by an almost naked, pasty-white 2 year old who insisted on planting a wet one on her snout. Here he is getting lined up for an accurately planted smooch:
Moooving in… Lucy still has no idea, that girl can sleep through almost anything
Oooohhhh! Her eyes are open now. I’m sure it was a dream come true.
Did this help defrost some of you? I hope so. If not, post some of your frozen tundra pictures and help me cool off. Maybe we can find a happy medium.
As you can tell, my “thought-mare” didn’t come true. Phew! What a relief!
But my brain is so overwhelmed I can’t even do a recap. Or at least one that makes any sense what so ever and isn’t just me rambling on and on all the while just trying to sort things out… out loud.
Oh wait. That’s what all my posts are like!
Really though, I’m just going to let everyone else try to sort this one out for me. I think my brain is plain out of shape after 8 long months of LOST-lessness. I guess I have to warm up to the high brain activity LOST requires.
Man, is Hubby going to enjoy that sentence.
Point is, this week, I’m reading all YOUR recaps for insight into the delightful chaos those two hours wracked on my poor, slow, out-of-shape brain.
I had a bit of a distraction too. Lucy was feeling a tad neglected in the light of LOST so I ended up fighting this off all night:
(She’s in mid-bounce here and that would be a cow hoof in her mouth. Please don’t ask me to explain it. For some reason she likes chewing on it and I’m desperate for her to chew on anything that isn’t human… or on a human… or near a human…)
As a little more proof of the abuse my hands were subject to for the first whole hour of LOST, I present:
Exhibit A: The Fang
Just when I was ready to toss her outside on her ear because I was having to listento LOST more than watch LOST and because she was running around like a rabid bat outta hell and had knawed my hands down to bloody stumps… she, well, she pooped out:
Somehow the bloody stumps don’t seem so bad when she looks like this. Look at her bottom lip. It cracks me up.
LOST does too – crack me up that is. Like Hurley’s comment to Sayid, ”Maybe if you would eat more comfort food, you wouldn’t need to go around shooting people.”
LOST also perplexes me and makes my head hurt.
So I’m off to read some brilliant recaps because mine is not.
I don’t know about you, but I’m tired. Is that really a good way to start the new year? Bleary-eyed, groggy, day-long bed-head… sucking off a coffee pot all day. I mean, I love hanging out with friends, grazing for 7 hours straight, playing games and chatting up a storm (after the kids have been bedded down) but when I have to be up at 6am New Years Day, I start to seriously consider swearing off all New Year’s Eves as my new year resolution.
I’m starting to feel a little better though, after my 8th cup of coffee and 3rd helping of Monkey Bread. Man that stuff is addicting. And that’s why we restrict it to New Year’s Day breakfasts only. It’s a treat. It’s a celebration. It’s special. And it’s also the reason why I have to get up at 6am the first day of every year instead of snoozing in until 7. It’s worth it. I don’t feel that way at 6am but by 7am, when I’m stuffing my face with Monkey Bread, I’m singing the praises of alarm clocks and early morning baking.
Since my brain is going to be fuzzy all day today (despite the gargantuan amounts of coffee I will ingest over the next 12 hours), I’ve decided to finish this post off with puppy pictures.
I don’t know about you, but when I hear “New Year”, I think ”puppy pictures”. Doesn’t everybody?
Besides, she sooo cute.
One glance into her big baby eyes will clear the cloud of sleepy gloom from around your noggin’.
In the interest of keeping her cuteness and adorability intact, I will refrain from sharing the scene that greeted me last night when I ran home to check on her and let her out mid-way through our all-night revelries. Let me just say, I wanted to shower when I was done. And I would have, had there not been Guitar Hero Band going on in my absence at the party. That stuff is good… blackmail good.
This is Lucy’s sleepy look. She tries real hard to keep those peepers open but gravity wins.
Her first chore, as a new member of the Runningamuck family, is to keep the windows clean. And that’s no easy task let me tell you. I was happy to finally be able to pass off the responsibility. A girl has to lick ‘em all down at least 3 times a day to keep up. And Lucy is proving herself very capable.
But all that licking wears her out. This is how she lets me know her saliva’s all dried up and she won’t work under these conditions.
And then Lil Blue decides he won’t work under those conditions either and they both lay down on the job. Then the grime piles up, the dishes don’t get done, the laundry sits, wrinkling, in the dryer, and the grass grows 10 feet tall outside. Just kidding, we have gardeners to mow for us. Lil Blue doesn’t edge very well.
See?! Don’t you feel a little less, tired?
At least until I have to take Lucy outside to potty again.
I’m here to testify that she has the teeniest bladder on the face of the planet.
Course, after all this coffee, I may be needing to go just as frequently as she does. So I guess I’d better stop pointing fingers at her and start worrying about my own bladder.
Happy New Year!!