bleurghy all the way

Um, so. I'm here. WAAAAAAASTING AWAY. While I know that the cats are warmly ensconsed in various blankets and stripey fur. Yes, people: I'M JEALOUS OF THE CATS. For they did not awake at 4am. And then lay in bed. For the next two hours. Attempting to WILL THEMSELVES BACK TO SLEEP.

Also: despite our best efforts to dose the cats with The Lax (heretofore our New Best Friend at preventing the 2am hairball vomit-fest), they reverted to form last night. Or, shall I say, PHOEBE reverted to form at 2am this morning with the yak yak yakking. And then there was more yakking. And yet MORE yakking. Chip's statement this morning: "It sounded like Phoebe was chucking up her entire stomach in that first round, and by the second it was on to the other organs. I have no idea what she rid herself of in that last bout."

Not that you want to read about CAT VOMIT - even though it is mightily entertaining (so says I).

Our Christmas recap is short and sweet because we did NOTHING (or, next to nothing) and I LOVED IT. My girth prevented us from flying to see my family for Christmas, and our work schedules prevented us from driving to see Chip's family - so we had a quiet Christmas at home. Eve was spent at a movie, with chinese take-out for dinner. NO DISHES TO DO = AWESOME. We slept in on Christmas day and then opened some lovely gifts from the fam. Our gifts to one another included things like THE FLOOR (STILL LOVING IT) and a brand spanking new camcorder. Which, I have to add, Chip is obsessed with. I finally had to request that he PLEASE ASK ME prior to the busting out of the camera, because I was so tired of having this happen (and also very scared about capturing my cranky self for posterity). What follows is an amalgem of various filming occurances over the last week. This is an approximation...


Chip (approaching with camera - recording in progress): Look, Bean! There's your mom! Look at her belly! (see Whimsy sitting on the couch stuffing her face with sugar cookies).

Whimsy (gulping down cookie and attempting to push crumbs off burgeoning body onto floor): Hi Beanie... um, yes, this is what I look like without a shower, in my pajamas, eating cookies. Aren't I GORGEOUS?

Chip (panning around room, trying to avoid the foot I'm kicking his way): Well, Bean, this is what we've been doing today... I think your mom wants to say one more thing.

Whimsy (grimace): Yes, um, in the nicest way possible, CAN WE TURN THE CAMERA OFF? I'M NOT DRESSED FOR THIS.


Don't get me wrong, I'm totally excited for the camera. It was my idea, after all. And I think it's going to be fantastic to capture our undoubtedly hilarious pratfalls in early parenthood. I think I've just been a teeny bit cranky the last week. (Chip - you don't have to be nice here, you know exactly what I'm talking about and I've been CA-RAY-ZEEEEE.) I have decided to Blame the Hormones, because, why not? And they're at fault for most of the other exciting things happening to my body anyway. Sometimes I imagine The Hormones like little constructure workers, wearing wee yellow hardhats and using various tools to tinker with my inner-workings. When I think of them messing with my mood, however, they morph into itty bitty evil secret agents, with black hair and bushy black eyebrows, wearing dark suits and laughing evilly - all he he he HA.