this post has no real point

I'm glad I didn't broadcast my intentions to blog more this year because the month is halfway done I'm only dusting off the old keyboard for the second time.

(We're already off to a bad start. I dropped my memory card and had to go searching for it under the couch. Someone tell the maid to vacuum under there!)

Before we left Massachusetts we celebrated Grandma's birthday. We all brought a food Grandma likes and I made a batch of her beloved liverwurst sandwiches. I'd be happy to share the detailed recipe. 

This photo is currently being submitted to the Horrible Food Photography of America magazine.

Annabelle was front and center during the gift opening. I kept telling her the gifts were for Memere but she held onto the hope she might get something. 

You're not truly dressed for a party unless you're wearing a spool necklace.

Grandma's birthday party really kicked off Sesame's excitement about her upcoming birthday. She chose a Frozen theme (raise your hand if you're not surprised) and talks about it every single day. "You make an ice cream cake for my Frozen party? You have baa-yoons at my Frozen party? I wanna caterpillar at my Frozen party. Is Grammy be at my Frozen party? Can Mr. Lion come to Frozen birthday party?" If I got a quarter for every comment she makes about her Frozen party between now and March I could afford the tropical vacation Olaf the snowman sings about.

One of our Christmas traditions is to sleep in the living room by the lit Christmas tree. We didn't get to do it before Christmas this year so we did it last week. We laid seven blankets out on the floor and attempted to go to sleep. Less than an hour later, Christopher announced that he was going to sleep in our bed because the floor was making his hips hurt. I made a bunch of old people jokes in my head but the joke was on me because you know what happened two hours later? I moved to the couch because the floor was hurting my back. Then I moved to the guest bed because the couch wasn't comfortable enough. I'm only a few steps away from having to use a stairlift.

Yesterday we tried the Sunday school at the church we've been attending. The teacher made us go around the room and say something we obsess over. I HATE any scenario when I'm asked to speak in public. It makes me feel sick and like I might pass out. 

To make matters worse, I couldn't think of anything good to say. I didn't want to say "I'm obsessed with expanding my nail polish collection" even though that's very true. I could never say something so worldly when the man across the aisle said he's obsessed with reading the Bible from front to back. Too bad AB wasn't in the class. She's been talking about her obsession for weeks.