I hope you get fight this right away. The longer you wait, the more it's going to look like you're pulling your explanation out of your ass.

I gave them a basic two-page handwritten version of the events the day of, and kept a copy. Everything I've written since has been thinking and clarifying, and realizing some of the nuance.

Oh, Daniel. Bless you. And bless Andi.

Cindy, you're a doll. I've kind of given myself a free pass for Christmas Day & Boxing Day, but I'd planned on getting back on the wagon today - surprising my metabolism with exercise and sensible eating, when it's been lulled into a false sense of security. And I did spend 3 hours or so walking around town, and I've not been Crazy Overeating Girl or anything. Still.

Hmm.

I may go for a swim, perhaps. Silly to not, really, when my parents have a pool and I have a nice new 40s-type (?) minidress-swimsuit thingy.

Right. It's a plan.

*I* want a Man-pony!

I'll just bet you do.

I'd be the best Man-pony owner EVER.

You could lather him up and rub him down and put him through his paces and ride him all night long.

Er. Or something.

It's liveable. We went for over three years with just the very crummy shower in the basement. I cheer you on! You can do it!

Also, watch for close-out paint at Home Depot. When they sell the mistakes, you can get good paint for $5 a gallon. I don't want to think about how many cans of paint I have in the basement from when I discovered this fact and went bonkers, but suffice it to say, I managed to get a few room's worth. (Mind you, we have 10x10 bedrooms, so one can does a whole bedroom with two coats AND leaves enough for touch ups.)

Good tip, that would definitely do Julia's room. Part of the problem is that Scott hates painting the way I hate having episiotomies. In the past, it's been my job to remind him that it's really worth the money for him, to get a painter. That's right out. But I don't mind painting. Once my mother moves out, I don't see why I can't put the boys in my mother's room, and paint a couple of hours a day, while Chris is at school.

This bonus was supposed to go to storm windows, and the balance was going to go into an account to save for eventually getting new kitchen cabinets/counter/floor, and a stove, and you know, Christmas. We did Christmas fine. We just skipped ourselves, and neither of us really cares about that. Santa gave them about what he usually does. Our gifts to them were significantly less, but we explained that up front, and they were sweet about it. The kitchen sucks, but whatever. That's a someday thing.

Sweet kid story: Ben has about a hundred bucks, right now. When we were car shopping, he offered it to give it us, to help out.

aww... good for Ben.

Awww, that's a good kid you're raising, Cindy.

Yeah, it kind of made me teary, because he's had a love affair with money, akin to Emmett's or Anya's, ever since he figured it out. Most of that money is his clear-pee money. When my mother first moved in, he was at the height of his blood in urine phase, and every time he peed, with no blood present, my mother would give him a buck. After a week or so, she started giving him a fixed amount, a day. It was just something sweet she did, to take his mind off of the medical side of it, and make him laugh. So that he offered it up so quickly, was really kind of allergy inducing, for me. Still, I think he was mighty relieved when we didn't take him up on his offer.

Crying now. That is very sweet of your mother. Medical stuff is so difficult for kids.

That is so sweet. Awww.

Things I have acquired this holiday season -- fingerless gloves (present from my little brother) and big fuzzy hat! (bought today on sale -- marked down to $18 from $42). It's VERY BIG and fuzzy.