from here on out it will be Christmas all day, every day

Despite my best efforts, I've turned into a once a week blogger. I blame my poorly paying, time-sucking little boss.

Ya talkin 'bout me?

Throughout the month we wrote things we're thankful for on little paper leaves. I hung them on branches I collected in the backyard and made a Thankful Tree. When we asked Sesame what she likes that God gave her, she said "Pasta. Tennessee and Texas. Pasta and sauce. Pasta." Such a good little Italian. 

For the third year in a row we hosted Thanksgiving at our house. Elizabeth came up to visit two weeks prior to Thanksgiving and Dad, Mom and Aaron came up the day before. We cleaned bathrooms, planned menus and sorted out cooking times. I scheduled us to eat at 3 but around 2:15 I noticed someone had turned the oven off. It was barely even warm inside. Cue the despair. I almost ordered pizza. SEVEN HOURS after I put it in the oven the turkey was finally finished. 

I took advantage of the 500 hours it took the turkey to cook for a mini photo shot. I bought this 12 months dress in the summer and crossed all my fingers and toes it would fit. I was prepared to squish her in like a sausage but it fit perfectly.

*

Elizabeth always says she only comes to visit so she'll make an appearance on the blog. Here I was thinking it was because she loves and adores me so. She recently got her permit and begged me to let her drive my car. She mostly did a good job, but I did grab onto the door handle a time or twelve. I got SO irritated when Mom would do that when I was learning to drive yet there I was doing the same thing. She did well except for the time when I had to say, "Let's have a little less dancing and a little more driving." She said she was trying to imitate my driving. I can't be held responsible for what I do when All About that Bass comes on the radio.

We visited a Christmas decor store this afternoon. When we got home I went through some of my Christmas boxes and pulled out some of the 19 snowmen statues we were given last year. I found a gingerbread recipe and my gingerbread cookie cutter. I think I'll light my fir tree candle. It's beginning to look like the most wonderful time of the year. 

stayed tuned for my review of the new Star Wars movie

Last night, in a GREAT ACT of love and dedication to my marriage, I went with Christopher to see the new James Bond movie. This is the third year in a row we've gone to see a JB movie in the theater so I've learned how to make the movie viewing experience pleasant for both of us. Namely, I read the plot on wikipedia beforehand and set my expectations for enjoying/understanding the movie VERY LOW. I saw the two hours twenty-eight minutes in a dark theater as the perfect opportunity to catch up on some sleep.

I have previously gone into great detail about my feelings (ie. confusion, annoyance, major eye rolling etc etc etc) about this series so I won't hash them out again, so it came as a huge surprise that this movie slightly surpassed my (again, very low) expectations. I won't be requesting to watch it again for another thirteen years, but I didn't get so bored I started counting popcorn kernels. That's just the rave review the director was hoping to get!

Naturally I have some things to say about the film:

+ It was as unrealistic as ever. James flew an airplane with both wings broken through the woods, crashed through a building, landed in a snowbank and walked out as if nothing had even happened. He didn't have a button loose or so much as a single hair out of place. Two days ago I walked the 25 feet between my car and the front door and it was so windy I literally couldn't see, I had so much hair in my face. My shirt blew up and my stomach was hanging out. And yet there are no wardrobe malfunctions when your plane is on fire?

+ Speaking of his wardrobe, JB has an exceptional tailor. His shirts never wrinkle. His clothes fit impeccably and somehow they never rip. You'd think wearing such tight pants would be an issue when running across a roof and jumping over a chimney but apparently not. I'm sure I'd have rips everywhere. Maybe he wears the suit version of jeggings? Suitings?

+ He's slept with approximately 47 women. How is he not a father yet? How is he still healthy?

+ Jimmy B is obviously getting old but he can still run like nobody's business. The last time I ran was when the mail I was putting in the mailbox blew out of my hand and I had to chase it down the road. Running is overrated. Blogging >jogging.

+ Finally, Mr. Bond is not the most expressive of men. I made a chart to help you understand his emotions.

I hope that clears things up.

in which Annabelle becomes a book reviewer

My mom was sent a book in the mail and I took it upon myself to test it out. 

The front says it's called Daddy Flies but I call it Daddy Sooooaaaas (Soars). Yesterday we read it three times in a row. The dad goes to work just like my dad does! What a coincidence.  

My favorite picture is the one of the little boy playing with the toilet paper. I can relate on a very deep level.

I spend a lot of time looking at the picture of the author's family on the back of the book. It boggles my mind that the book is about a little girl AND THERE'S A LITTLE GIRL ON THE BACK. Was that planned? 

I read somewhere in the range of 57 books a day so I know what I'm talking about when I say this is a good book. The pictures are, in the words of the one who birthed me, delightful. My only complaint is the little boy doesn't have a name. I gave him one that sounds something like Ruuufinins. I think it's perfect. 

Gotta go unroll some toilet paper. 

Daddy Flies, Brye Butler Steeves

I will not be naming any fish after Bill Clinton

I'm pleased to say Christopher's birthday party went off without a hitch. Sure, we started eating 14 minutes late but compared to other years it was nearly flawless. I tried two new recipes which both turned out well and Annabelle behaved perfectly. Last year on his birthday I dressed Sesame up in a party hat and dress and stuck her in the swing while I made fried shrimp. Naturally Christopher got delayed at work and by the time he got home AB was falling apart and the shrimp was soggy. We make our party plans but the Army dictates if they actually happen. Two years ago I was pregnant and trying not to throw up. All in all this year was much more enjoyable. I ended up ordering him his favorite German sausage as a gift. Giving meat really felt like a low point in my gift-giving career, but I had literally zero other options.

I honestly can't remember what we did on Saturday. I remember that Christopher won the sleep-in lottery so I got up with Annabelle but that's nothing new. I do remember we had the following conversation when discussing the royals:
C: Is she (Kate) still pregnant?
Me: She had the baby in May. YOU DON'T REMEBER?!?!?!
C: No. What was it?
Me: A girl! We wore our tiaras and celebrated!

I guess our celebration wasn't memorable enough. We'll have to kick it up a notch for the next royal baby. Tea and crumpets for everyone.

Sunday was a memorable day. We added a new member to the family. Meet Millard T. Fillmore, esteemed Admiral in the Fish Fleet.

I've wanted a fish for a while and now that we don't have plans to move for the next few years it seemed like a good time. It was not my intention to name him after a president. I picked out the name Fillmore but couldn't decide on a first name. I considered Frederick, Richard and Norman but none were right. The merry go round to pick his perfect first name was similar to the merry go round we went on while picking Annabelle's name. Her name was decided last minute as I was being rolled off to the operating room. (I most graciously allowed Christopher his chosen name which has given me naming rights to any and all future children.) Admiral Fillmore's name was finalized in the pet store parking lot. If Millard Fillmore was a good enough name for a president, it's a good enough name for a fish.  

I have a long history of giving my pets lengthy names. When I was young I had a rabbit named Lance Corporal Brigadier General Bomber, or LCBG Bomber for short. I made up an elaborate story about how he was a decorated war hero from the Bunny Corps. When he died, my siblings 

grudgingly willingly attended his military funeral complete with American flags. It was very dramatic. 

Because I love a good comparison, here are Fillmore the man and Fillmore the (grumpy) fish. They do bear a slight resemblance in the hair/fin areas. 

Wednesday thoughts

+ Last night I was so worked up about something I saw on facebook that I couldn't sleep for ages. When I finally fell asleep I dreamt I was wearing hearing aids that looked like contact lenses. I popped them in and one could tell I was wearing them. I'd recording this now in the event contact hearing aids become a thing in the future. You heard about them here first. Twelve years ago I invented Skype but didn't patent it. Lets just say I'd be a lot richer if I had.

+ I made myself wait until November to buy AB any Christmas pajamas. It's no exaggeration that I believe she needs one pair for each night in December. I LOVE Christmas clothes. The more wintery and Christmasy the better. When I went to Target last week to buy diapers I almost passed out from all the Christmas jammie options. I wanted to buy them all then go home and drink hot chocolate by the fire.

+ Speaking of Target, I think I'm the only white girl in America who doesn't love that store. On a scale of one to ten I'm very meh about it. I hear that people like shopping while drinking the PSL they bought from the in-store Starbucks but that doesn't work for me. I can't shop and drink at the same time. The drink is sure to spill on whatever is in the cart. When I go to clean it up I'm sure to knock over a rack of hats. What if there's no place to put the drink when I need two hands to look at something? There are too many ways for things to end up terribly.

+ I'd like to make a small adjustment to the calendar. Can the powers that be please switch Thanksgiving to the beginning of October? I understand that it's an important holiday, but it really gets in the way of my Christmas decorating. I can't make myself decorate with reindeer and candles until after Thanksgiving but that only gives me a month to enjoy it. I want all the time I can get to soak up the Christmas lights and decorate trees. I want to hang our stockings and decorate the mantle with little houses. I need time to carefully craft paper snowflakes. If the government can dictate what time we set our clocks surely they can do something about this Thanksgiving situation.

+ Tomorrow is Christopher's birthday. I am all about a birthday. I love a good theme and fancy straws that match the table décor. The more festive the better. Christopher is not into birthdays. He'd be perfectly fine with a nice dinner and nothing more. I brought up having a Minnie Mouse theme because I know AB would love it, but he said no self respecting 33 year old man wants a Minnie party. Having previously said he doesn't care if there's a theme I think he lost the privilege of vetoing my ideas. Yesterday Sesame and I went to the dollar store for balloons. It should come as no surprise that they are for the benefit of the ladies in the family. Tomorrow we'll decorate a banner. It will be a very classy banner made from construction paper with an assortment of animal and Sophia the First stickers. It will be perfect for a manly man. This is the first birthday Annabelle will be aware of and I want her to learn how fun they can be. I'll probably break out the fancy straw so she can get the full experience.

I have THE HARDEST time finding gifts for him. He's so difficult to shop for. It was hard enough finding birthday and Christmas gifts but now I need to add Father's Day gifts to the mix and it's a million times harder. He had mentioned that he wanted a Texas flag to hang in the basement with his confederate and early American flags. Annabelle volunteered pennies from her turtle bank for the purchase. Last week I noticed all the flags were off the wall and when I asked why, he said they "looked silly". I'm not returning the Texas flag so tomorrow night he'll be getting more silly in a gift bag. 

+ I introduced Christopher to Dubsmash. There's no more festive way to ring in his year age than lip syncing songs from the by gone days of his youth.

the little honeybee



Last Halloween I really hit it out of the park. I peaked on my first year.



This year I went back and forth about dressing her up since I don't even like Halloween, but I'm a sucker for a baby in a costume. She was going to be a basket of flowers but I lacked both motivation and time to pull it together. She's so into Winnie the Pooh right now and we already had the tutu from her birthday so I slapped on some tights intended for a seven year old and called her a honey bee. She was obviously very enthusiastic. 

I love the way she's holding her hands. She can be so proper at times. Other times she gets ketchup behind her ears.



We have a clump of trees behind our house that we call the Hundred Acre Wood (Pooh's home). Almost every day we go out into the woods and look for Tigger, Piglet and the others. I brought her Pooh Bear out and she couldn't believe what she was seeing. She really believed that Pooh somehow made it from the tv to her backyard.

Just a girl carrying her bear through the woods.

(Let us have a moment of jubilation over that fact that she has enough hair to clip a bow into.)