1.) Sophie and Great Grandma George getting their groove on to "Ralph's World". Very entertaining. And uber impressive to see my eighty-two year old grandmother hanging with my ever-perky little Energizer Bunny daughter in terms of dance stamina and zippy moves. Go Triple G! Shake your groove 'thang!
2.) Russell asking for a vent-free gas log for our fireplace for Christmas. Then changing his request to a Nintendo Wii after playing a couple gazillion rounds of bowling and boxing at Grandad and Nana Sandy's house over the holiday. (In a particularly amusing sidenote: Adam, you win the prize for Least Intimidating Boxing Form. But if ever there's a Girly Slap Fight that you're called to participate in, you will WIN. 'Fo sho! Hee. I'm just sayin'.) Has anybody else ever Wiied? It's addictive, I'm telling you. We've been searching the world over since returning home in hopes of fulfilling Russ's Christmas wish. So far, it's a No-Go. Wiis, it seems, are DARN stinking hard to come by. And apparently little old ladies across the country are at risk of being mowed down as Wii-Seeking Fanatics seek to get one.
3.) Sol and Sophie having a round of WWF Smackdown in the living room Christmas night. Shirtless cousin wrestling and rolling. Yeah!! The rock fireplace at Mooms and Fafa's made for a scary obstacle. (For the parents and grandparents. The children were totally oblivious to the fact that they were dangerously close to adding cracked skulls and stitches to their list of things received for Christmas.)
4.) Sophie lovingly making cookies and milk for Santa. Then sampling (repeatedly) the cookies and milk that she had ever-so-gently placed on the hearth and declaring them "absolutely perfect for Santa!"
Then exclaiming the next morning, "What?? Santa ate my cookies and drank my milk!" (Said in the same hugely annoyed tone as, "That Fat Rat! He took my stuff!!")
5.) My sweet, almost-always smiley mom having an Academy Award winning meltdown in the kitchen the day after Christmas. Oh, yes. DOOOOzie-ville. Sorry Mooms, I know you're going to post a comment about "appropriate venues for discussion". But it definitely was a highlight. Or a lowlight, as is probably more accurate. I'm sure the neighbors heard the antelope-been-shot cries from down the road. They are all relieved to now discover the origin. (In her defense. It was an understandable outburst. Her son is moving in three weeks to Germany for five stinkin' years. FIVE. As in, I will be FORTY when my brother returns to the good 'ole U.S of A. If he returns then. ...But, ahem, sniff. Waaaaaaaaaa! We're not really talking about that. Oh, no, we're not. Denial. Such a comfy place to reside.)
6.) Finally meeting Jackson, the sweetest little cuddly son of Sarah and Dave, in person. And then proceeding to cram him, his parents, Mark, Molly and Dylan, Walt and Annie, Margo and Josh, Alan, Hannah, and Ava, and me, Russ, and Sophie all together in our living room for New Year's Eve. Sixteen people. All squished in one room together to watch the ball drop. Oh, and watch a Wanna-Be-Evel-Knievel idiot attempt to jump across an entire football field on his bike without breaking every bone in his body. Woo hoo! Party on, Garth! We also discovered that night that pepperoni and sundried tomato cheeseball is not as yummy as it looks on the package. Margo's comment: "Hmm. It tastes like pizza." Me: "Is that good?" Margo: "Well. It does taste like pizza!"
7.) Me banging my toe on the doorjam in Sophie's room, tripping on the rug, and hanging my pinky toenail on the carpet. (It was very Nancy Ferguson-esque. For those of you who remember my hilariously clumsy roommate in college.) In one very fast and hellish swoop, that bad boy was off. RIIIIIIP! Oh, yes, indeedy. I am talented. Like how my Big Daddy Toe is disproportionately larger than the rest of the herd, and how my second toe is as long (or short) as my third toe? And like how everything is Playdoh-y squishy and "boneless"? I understand that's not really normal. Or sexy. Ah, yes, a Hello Kitty bandaid really improves the Wack-o-Factor of my poor feet, don't you think? Nothing says cute and fun like Hello Kitty!
8.) Marking Year #2 where somebody (last year it was everybody) has gotten The Pukes during our time together in Mena. At least this year it was at the very end of the visit. Zach, Fafa, and Sophie took the hit - with Sophie taking the prize for Longest Time Taken To Get Back To Normal. Ah, reflux. You just gotta love it! Last night I heard Sophie walk up and tell her father, "Daddy, I think there's a dead squirrel living in my bottom." Oh, good. Clarification. That definitely helps explain the horrid gas smells that have been nearly knocking us unconscious for the past several days. I'm no doctor, but I think we have a Virus-Killed-The-Good-Bacteria-In-The-Gut situation here. Whoo-EEE. Got Acidolphilus, dear daughter?
9.) Having our traditional macaroni/hot chocolate/midnight superhero movie at Nana's on Christmas Eve. And then me having my traditional Ten Minutes Of Sleep that evening. Ah, yes - cats fighting and coughing up furballs, barking dogs, multiple snoring men, blazing hot furnaces, and the hide-a-bed sofa bar in my back. All by the festive glow of the twinkling Christmas Tree lights, of course. Good times!! (Just kidding, of course, Nana and Poppy. I wouldn't trade it. You know I'm a girl who does NOT monkey with tradition. I'll fight you for that sofa bed! Plus, Poppy's fabulous traditional breakfast spread always makes the delirium of the night a distant memory.)
10.) Aunt Kay shouting "GO, DARIAN!!!!!!" at the top of her very capable lungs (whether Damian was on the court or not) continuously during the Razorback basketball game. She was one hoarse, but very happy gal when her (quite obviously) favorite guy was declared Player of the Game.
11.) Sophie and Solomon making beautiful music together. And then showcasing their dance talents to wrap up the concert.
Okay. So. Yeah. I don't usually do resolutions. At least not publicly. I think about them - silently, in my head. I mull them over and give them some consideration. But I do not write them down, in "goal" format (as dad always wanted us to do growing up). I do not then post them on the fridge. For one very large reason. Because when you do that, what you're basically saying is, "Here. Right here is a list of all of my flaws. These are the things I suck at. This year, I really need to get busy changing these glaringly obvious things."
But for some reason I'm feeling the need to participate in the resolutions game. (I blame my friend, Kristen.) So...
The following is a list of some of the things in my life that need working on. This year I resolve to try my darndest to do these things. Drum roll, please.
1.) Become a single-chinned girl with significantly smaller ta-tas. Er, I mean, lose weight and get healthy. ...So, really, how exactly do we get to the Sloppy Me point? I guess it's actually pretty easy to trace it back, if we're honest. For me, it's a combo of two factors. Part: I-Just-Really-Like-Food. And Part: Emotional Chaos. During, and especially after, the Seth thing, and then the Sophie stuff, I felt like I only had control over ONE aspect of my life. Food. And how much of it I put down my piehole. I, alas, have never been one of those Become Skinny Under Pressure People. (Dang it!) I am, and have been since many a procrastination/crunch time at Hendrix, one of those women for whom the super nifty "solution" to stress is food. Add pain, grief, and anger to the mix- and, well, that's a cocktail that just increases the desire to stick things in my mouth. Why? Heck if I know. But I do know there's nothing quite like eating a whole bag of Cheetos to make the crap of life just melt away - in a nice salty orange haze on your fingers.
2.) Resume my love affair with Billy Blanks and the stationary bike. When the three of us were hanging out on a regular basis last year, I felt better. I had more energy, I slept better, I was less stressed, and I wore stretchy pants a lot less. Yes, as good a look as Yoga Pants and red spandex capris are for me, I should probably not allow "expandable waists" to be such an intergral part of my wardrobe. Sigh. I guess I have to acknowledge it. Exercise really is a giant part of the solution. Ugh. Sheesh. Stupid sweaty endorphins.
3.) Sign up with Skype and set up my webcam so I can communicate with my brother and sister-in-law in Germany. Perhaps that way I won't make a donkey bray noise and cry a river every time I think about how far away they'll be and how much I'll miss them. Oh, and work on my fear of flying over the ocean for a ridiculous number of hours. (Seriously. I don't know what my deal is. For some reason my brain is convinced that the chances of falling out of the sky increase exponentially when a large body of water is present. ...I know. Roll your eyes. I'm weird. What can I say? But I do know I need to get over it.) And that's why it's a resolution...and not just another weird thing about me. Get it, Walt? I strive to work on it. Go, me!
4.) Make God a priority again. My relationship with Him took a pretty major hit during the Rage-O-Maniac Anger Ball moments of the past few years. Still not completely sure why since I trust in His sovereignty and really do feel His will was done in Seth's life. But emotions...they're kooky things. The logical part of the psyche doesn't always exist in harmony with the emotional part. I know that mending my spiritual relationship needs to start with going to church again every Sunday. Yes, I know. "Church" isn't the Be All, End All of Christian existence. But fellowshipping with, learning from, and praying amongst other believers is important. For many reasons. I know it is. As is spending time in the Word and having a daily Quiet Time. As is Sunday School for the Wee One. Sophs is such a little sponge right now. Soaking everything up. That girl needs to be learning what Jesus Would Do!
5.) Drink more water. It's simple. It's good for me. I KNOW it will help with #1 on the list. And it's the easiest resolution to start immediately tackling. Especially since there's a giant box of sparkling clear Dasani in the garage right now. Here me now, I'm gonna chug-a-lug.
So, there you go. Public humiliation and self-flogging. Internet Public Humiliation, nonetheless. YES! ...And, hopefully, accountability. Nothing like "writing it down" on your blog to create a little willpower and motivation.
That's the plan, anyway. The good news is, since I have a blogging "public" of about ten, I won't really be accountable to very many if the plan goes to poop. Yeehaw! Ha ha. Just kidding. I'm really going to try to make this a brand new year, with a brand new me. (Right after I hoark down the last of the Christmas chocolate. After all, my mom spent many an hour teaching me to "Waste Not, Want Not". All of her parenting efforts and proverbs will be for naught if I let those delicious Doves just sit there, uneaten and sad.)
Love to all. Keep chiming in with those comments. It's so much fun to hear from everybody! Oh, and feel free to share your resolutions too. (I double dog dare you!)
Happy, slightly late, New Year. May 2008 be just GREAT.