Let's Review

It's been an interesting week with highs and lows, summits and valleys, clouds and sun.

Kaiden was talking to a girl from his class on my cell phone. He had it on speaker. He had mentioned that this was the first year that Santa Claus hadn't heard him right and didn't get him what he wanted for Christmas. (I'm sure Santa is feeling the budget crunch that we all are and had to make cuts in his elf workforce as well.) Anyway...she replied with, "You know Santa isn't real, right?"

Me: "Time for supper, hang up the phone."

Nice save. After we had eaten and the kids had gone to become TV zombies, Shawn asked me, "So how are we going to tell him?" What? NO! I do not want to be the one to pop that magical bubble. Shawn had brought up that he didn't want Kaiden to be teased because he is the only one left among his peers who still believes. I, of course, try to approach with logic. If Kaiden knows, well then there goes the Easter Bunny, leprechauns and the tooth fairy. Plus, he has a younger brother. Ever try to get a 6-year-old keep a secret? Good luck. I give it 42 seconds, a minute at the most. Feeling I needed allies on this one, I posted the question on Facebook...should we tell him or not? The overwhelming response was in some form or another, "No." Some had already been down this road. The suggestions ranged from belief in the 'Spirit of Christmas', helpers, and just redirecting the question back at them. And then there was this from my friend Stacey in CA:

My 9 year old (4th grader) asks me "Mom, I need you to tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?". Me: "No, Thomas, there isn't, it's Mom and Dad". Thomas begins to sob uncontrollably. Me: "Thomas, I'm so sorry but you asked me to be honest and I thought that's what you truly wanted." Thomas: "I did but I used to have a little tiny hope, and now I have absolutely no hope. None". Yeah, good parenting moment.

We're choosing to let him believe.

I've decided to combat my newly-at-home boredom with a new Wii workout regimen. I was getting bored with Wii Fit and ordered, EA Active, Personal Trainer. It's awesome. I actually was sweating, and I don't mean just damp hair, I'm talking running down my back, off my forehead, needing a shower afterwards kind of workout. It's been 2 workouts on the 30 day challenge so far. Today, it took me 30 minutes to carry a load of laundry up from the basement. Hello thighs and glutes.

I also know why prisoners are so buff. They're BORED! 

I had to turn in 1/4" worth of paperwork to get my kids discounted health insurance. After collecting proof of the children's actual existence, finances, daycare costs, a paycheck stub and a blood test to testify that I AM actually from Earth (okay that's pushing it), I must pass through a metal detector to even enter the office. I awaited my chance to approach the receptionist who reminded me of the human version of the undercover secretary, Roz, on Monsters, Inc. 

"Mmmm, can I help yoouuu?" I told her I needed to hand in my paperwork. "Staple it together and put it in box #1." I merely took a step to get a clearer look at the box, when the deadpan, nasal voice addressed the person behind me with as much enthusiasm as a wet dishcloth. She didn't let me tell her that I had a letter in my hand which said I needed to fill out an affidavit of identity and she had to copy my birth certificate. I took one look at that people behind me in line, one holding a squirming screeching toddler with snot running down his face, and trudged back to the end of the line. Now I know the need for the metal detector. The box, by the way, was some random brown box with a rugged hole cut in the top and #1 written on it with a Sharpie®.

Wow. Professional.

There is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WORTH WATCHING ON DAYTIME TV. Maybe it's a blessing, maybe not. I can't do my step aerobics to drivel. I need something to keep my attention away from my burning calves. Although, apparently, people in Texas are totally clueless to the fact that you can't abandon your dogs/cats/lizards or whatnot when you move and you cannot keep a herd of horses in the backyard of your trailer home. Or at least that's what Animal Cops Houston would have you believe. (No offense intended, I have several relatives in Texas.)


My youngest son, having finished his business in the bathroom, yelled for someone to help him. My oldest, in a rare moment of trying to get on my good side, said, "I got this." I looked questioningly at my husband. He shrugs. Kaiden makes a big show of coming back into the room, shaking his head with a big sigh, he squirts hand sanitizer into his palm, (he needs to make sure that everyone is aware of his good deeds.) "I had to help him wipe his butt," he sighs. "And why did you do that?" I inquire. "Because someday I'll have a baby and I need practice doing these things." Which actually translates to, "You grounded me from video games, and every brown-nosing opportunity I have, I'm going to take in order to get me back into good graces." I see right through you buddy, but you go ahead and believe because I need the garbage emptied too.

I have re-established that I am a good cook, but horrible baker. Let's just say that mint can be overpowering in the minuscule of doses.


I was overjoyed to see 40 degrees in the 10-day forecast, but I've lost all faith in my local weatherman, so I'll believe it when I feel it. That's the last time I will put any sort of hope in a rodent, groundhogs in particular.


But all in all, my ups and downs were reduced to their actual scale when I woke up to the tragedy in Japan. Just further proof that no matter where you are, what you're going through, happy or sad, the world keeps turning and we must revel in the small joys in life.