A Meaty Christmas to All

Last night, we drove around looking at decorative light displays. Our 3y0 son asked why we didn't have lights on our house, and my husband told him that he had wanted to put some up but he was busy and didn't get the chance. He said he'd try to do it next year. My son asked if he would use crispy bacon. "Crispy bacon?" I asked. "To decorate the house?" He answered yes in a way that suggested that I don't know anything about decorating a house. Silly me.

Holding Out Hope for the Day

Happy solstice everyone. I know I'm a day late, but that's the only way I can get it to miraculously coincide with the husband's schedule. Hush, don't tell the kids. Speaking of kids, they aren't making the day easy. Not that they ever do, but I'd like it to be festive. I'm sleep-deprived, and for some reason have sore muscles here and there, as well as an impending headache, but I have a lot to do. Most of it is fun stuff, like wrapping presents and making festive food for Christmas brunch with the maternal unit, but indeed it takes work, and that requires energy.

So here I am, recharging by relaxing a little at the computer. I know, I'll read something funny. So I go over to the blog that the Late Show with David Letterman writers have up and what do I see? Not only do I see a lame joke, but it's a lame joke that I made about a year ago. At least it wasn't for pay. If I saw it on the show, I'd have to cry.

I'm holding out hope that I'll feel better at dinner time. First, I don't have to cook it. Second, it's a rare treat that my husband is bringing home. It's NY pizza from my favorite pizzeria, near where we used to live when we first got married. Sicilian pizza, even! And a small salad pizza too! Can't get that stuff here in CT, though I like living here much better than living in NY. I just hope that by then, I haven't lost my mind. It's 2:30 and I have one kid still in her pajamas. Five hours and counting.

They Just Know How to Make a Mom Feel Bad

Today my 6yo said "Maybe Odin Claus will give me some cough medicine."

Golden Globes Dilemma?

Given the situation with the writers' strike, there are Golden Globe nominees who are torn between promoting their work, and honoring the picket line. Now, aren't these supposed to be the creative people of the world? How are they missing the obvious solution?

Here's what I would do, especially if I were already fairly well-known. I'd show up in my evening finery, with my gorgeous gentleman, step out of the car and smile for the cameras, then turn and pull out my picket signs from the back seat, smile for the cameras again, and go join the line. There you have it. Support for the WGA and a shitload of publicity. Plus, you still get to wear a fabulous dress and go out for dinner later. So what is the problem?