The best love letter I've ever gotten...

I've threatened to post this love letter for quite some time. Oh, how I laughed when I received it. It is far too great to keep to myself, so here I go, sharing it with the world!

"To the only dwarf that I love,

Indeed all other schlumpys (schlumpies?) pale in comparison. Here are a few of the things I love about you:

1. Thou art the perfect height. I doest not have to look up thine nostrils, nor upon thine scalp when speaking to thee.

2. Thine earlobes art naught overly pierced, and thus, saggy (my heart desireth a taunt earlobe).

3. Thou doest naught cause me to feel shame over my non-stepford wife ways. Contrary, thou encouragest it.

4. Thou hast produced an offspring, wherewith mine firstborn might be able to wed. For this, I thank thee, my lovliest of schlumps, for I am indeed....motivationally challenged, and it would have taken me a great deal of time and trouble finding a rightful beau for my daughter.

5. Thine laugh is contagious, oftentimes to the point that I doest pee into mine pantaloons. There is no truer friend than one that makest one void oneself.

The list could go on forever, but Kaitlin must go to school. Thus, my waxing must wane.

Love ya lots,

Christina

p.s. from henceforth "not" shall now and forevermore be known as "naught" "

Don't get them wet...they'll multiply!

Meet the latest member of our feline family, Boris' evil twin, Horace. The two of them spend a lot of their time sitting on the front porch and howling at one another. I spend a lot of time sitting on the front porch trying to be the mediator. Neighbors frequently stop and stare openly at me as I comment, "Now, Horace, you and Boris can learn to co-exist if you really try. Look for common interests!" Unfortunately, their common interest seems to be the sitting and howling. Oh, well, such is life.

In other news, we all enjoyed our Christmas. The kids got way too many toys, and I keep tripping over them, which amuses kids and cats alike. Chris gave me this nifty new laptop, along with wireless internet. I'm lying on the couch typing! Woohoo! Now, if only I can learn to use it! Or, more importantly, sew myself a new tote with a laptop compartment. Then I'll be cool and full of technology (most of which I still don't know how to use!).

Decking the Halls!

Is he cute, or what?

Once again, I've managed to upload the pictures in backward order. So, we start with the decorated tree...

And the decorated wine rack...The stockings, as you can see, are hung on the wine rack with care. Hey, don't knock it! We don't have a chimney!


My pink flamingo tree!

Jack likes to blend in with the decorations. He's very festive.

One of the few pictures of me. For some reason, when I looked at the ones we took, all the ones of me were of my backside only. CHRIIISSSS!!! Yes, he was in trouble for that one.

Timothy enjoyed decorating the tree. He's also enjoyed undecorating it daily ever since!

Gabe helped set up the tree!

Chris, freezing to death while hanging Christmas lights! What a guy! I might have to forgive him for the pictures of my posterior.

Santa's helpers!

Just us reindeer!

Merry Christmas to all! And to all a good night!

Iced in and going crazy...

Ok, "iced in" might be a bit of an exaggeration. The roads are fine and I could leave anytime I wanted to, if there were anyplace to go! Our house seems to be located right in the middle of a tiny oasis of uninterrupted electrical circuits, so we're warm and dry. Technically, I shouldn't be complaining. But the fact of the matter is, I'm stuck inside a house with two small boys, one big one, six spoiled cats, and a dog with a sense of humor. That's not a misplaced modifier. The dog is the one with the sense of humor, not me. I lost mine at about noon today when I realized the dog had one. Maybe he has MINE!

I'm starting to smell odd odors. Let me also admit that I'm the only one who can smell them. Conversations tend toward the following:

Me: "Do you smell that?"
Chris: "Smell what?"
Me: "That horrible smell."
Chris: "No, what does it smell like?"
Me: "Sort of like a combination of feet and moldy potatoes."
Chris: "Been walking over any moldy potatoes lately?"
Me (pacing around and sniffing): "Not funny. It's not my feet, it's right here. Come smell it."
Chris: "Now why would I want to get up and come over there to smell something bad when I'm perfectly happy sitting right here and smelling nothing?"

At this point I may or may not have burst into tears and stated that men never understand anything. You never know what I might do when I've spent too much quality time with my sons, who haven't been allowed to run off any energy in days.

On the bright side of things, after having spent my entire summer lamenting the annoyance of a crew of tree trimmers, who camped out in my yard every single day and appeared to do nothing, I have working electricity when nobody else does because they did a fantastic job of clearing away all offending trees from the power lines. This should teach me a lesson about giving thanks for everything, but it apparently hasn't, since I'm already on to complaining about the ice storm. Ok, ok, I'll be thankful for the ice storm, too. But I'm only slightly thankful. How's that?

I would put up pictures of what everything looks like under a blanket of ice, but my camera was misplaced in a moment of mad cleaning earlier today. I remember setting it down somewhere...but I'm not sure where. Perhaps the dog has it. It would be his idea of a practical joke. That and sneaking up behind unsuspecting cats and woofing loudly. His practical jokes are beginning to wear on my nerves. Pray for my sanity, and the sanity of all other moms trapped inside with energetic children!

The most disgusting story ever...Not for the faint-hearted (or the faint-stomached!)

Ok, not really sure why I feel the need to tell this story, but perhaps I feel you should share my misery. And if you've read the title and are still reading, don't blame me for what follows. I've already said that this is unspeakably disgusting. Read at your own risk!

Last night Chris and I fell asleep on the couches. We do this every night, actually, and some odd mental alarm clock wakes me around 2 o'clock, at which time I pry Chris off the couch and we go to bed. Last night was a little different. First off, I had fallen asleep earlier than usual, knowing I'd have to get up at 5 to go teach a class. For some reason, this had the effect of resetting my mental alarm, and therefore, I was still peacefully asleep at just after 2 am, surrounded by blissfully snoring cats. Well, at least three of them were blissfully snoring...the fourth was awake.

Let me take a short side trip from my story to state that the sound a cat makes when hacking up a hairball can wake me from a dead sleep. Seriously, if I ever die, don't try to give me cpr, just put a hacking cat nearby. As the owner of numerous cats, I often wake long enough to mentally note, "Uh oh, there goes a hairball. Be sure to check your slippers before you step into them, and then watch where you step," before I'm asleep again. Three of my cats make that sound. The fourth doesn't. Back to the horrifically gross story...

Where were we? Oh, yes, we were asleep at 2:15 am! Then, quite suddenly, I wasn't asleep at all. I was wide awake, wondering what HAD JUST LANDED ON TOP OF MY HEAD!!! It was wet, it was slimy, it was a hairball! ON TOP OF MY HEAD!!! I sat up and it slithered off and splatted on the floor. Anyone need a barf bag yet? Yes, Meanie, who in this story, is the fourth cat, was sleeping on the back of the couch above my head when he suddenly launched a hairball. So, at a little after 2 this morning, I was up washing my hair and trying not to curse. The remainder of the night was spent shivering in my frigid bedroom, trying desperately to get some sleep before the alarm went off. Futile. My normally compassionate husband nearly fell out of bed laughing when I got back from my early class and woke him for some sympathy. Need I mention that Meanie and I are not on speaking terms? Anything I have to say to him at this point, I could say with the toe of my tennis shoe, and sensing this, he's giving me fairly wide berth today.

On a side note, I have several cats currently ready to be adopted, if anyone's interested. What, no takers? Your loss! And just remember, if a cat hasn't thrown up on your head today, your day is going a little bit better than mine!