He Came!

Santa, that is. Along with an obscene amount of gifts, Santa also left a note declaring bankruptcy and promising to not go so overboard next year.

Ho, Ho, Oh No...

I go back and forth about telling Mason about the guy in the red suit. Some days, I remember how devestated I was when I found out my parents had lied to me and decide I'll just cut to the chase and let him in on the big secret of parents everywhere. Other days, I remember so clearly that dizzy, magical feeling I used to get when I ran down the stairs and saw the mounds of toys from The North Pole that I can't imagine not giving him the chance to feel the same thing.

Decisions, decisions. Luckily, he's still little enough that I didn't have to decide this year. I did take him to see Santa at the mall though - mostly for picture's sake.

Last Christmas, at only seven months old, Mase LOVED Santa. Sat on his lap, waved his arms, smiled a HUGE smile. This year:

Not so much.

Wrapper

On Christmas Eve, Mase helped me wrap all the presents that weren't for him. There weren't many; it was only a few small things that should have taken twenty minutes, but with Mase's help, it took two hours.

At least we had fun.

Resolutions... or Something Like Them

I don't think I've ever made New Year's Resolutions before. And actually, I'm not even going to call them resolutions, because then I'll be disappointed in myself if I don't follow through with them. So...

Gentle Suggestions for 2010:

1. Become a little more patient. There's nothing more frustrating than trying to negotiate a diaper change with my stubborn little toddler. Except maybe finding the entire dinner I just slaved over for twenty whole minutes tossed on the floor and Mase sitting in his highchair in a fit of giggles. Take deep breaths.

2. Worry less and try to focus on the big picture. Because if I don't stop freaking out now, I'll be gray before I'm thirty.

3. Put my ice cream in a bowl, rather than eating it right out of the container. I don't know why... it just seems like the right thing to do.

4. Try to stop hating my job. Spending five nights a week waiting on drunken frat boys isn't my ideal career, but it's all I've got to work with right now, and it pays the bills (almost, anyway). Next time I get a table of ten kids having a wing-eating competition I'll do my best to smile and not curse them out in my head on my millionth trip down the stairs to the kitchen.

5. Spend more time being me. There are dozens of unread books under my bed and I haven't scrapbooked since Mase was three months old. I can't remember the last time I went out to lunch with a friend alone and I spend little time doing anything but coloring and pretending to be a sheep/elephant/cow/dog. How did this happen??

6. Shave my legs once a week. Self-explanitory and very much needed.

7. Get out of pajamas on my days off. This includes showering, wearing jeans, and maybe (maybe) even putting on a little makeup. At the very least, I want to be presentable enough to not be completely embarrassed when the Fed-Ex man knocks on the door.

8. Get Mase involved and out of the house. I hate being cooped up in the winter, and as soon as I get my license back (hopefully by the end of January!) I want to sign Mase up for swimming lessons again, maybe do Kindermusik, and spend a bunch of time at the library.

9. Travel. Take Mason to at least three new states in 2010.

10. Stop beating myself up. I'm not a perfect mom and I probably never will be. I work 40 hours a week, most of the time 'til 1AM, and I'm in charge of keeping myself and another human alive twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I sleep a maximum of six hours a night, so if I pass out before the toys are picked up or the dinner dishes are done, I'd like to be able to cut myself some slack. If I get frustrated with Mase or feel like taking a nose-dive off the balcony, I don't want to be up all night feeling guilty. I'm human.

The Eve

This year, we followed through with the same thing we did last year - opening two presents on Christmas Eve. Mase's night-before-Christmas packages contained the same thing they did a year ago, too: jammies and a Christmas story.


Carefully, Mase unwrapped his first two gifts of the year, making sure to hand me every scrap of paper he tore off.

After bath, Mase jumped into (okay, I wrestled him into) his brand new jammies and sat through the ENTIRE Night Before Christmas.


Looks like we have our own little Christmas Eve tradition.

Yikes, Christmas (and Stripes)!

I was doing so good about blogging this month, and then the holidays crept up on me ridiculously fast. I stayed up until 1AM on Tuesday putting together a play kitchen, I shopped on Christmas Eve, and I wrapped presents into the wee hours of this morning.

Aaaanyway.. I'll try to recap everything that's gone on this week. Well, what I have pictures of anyway. Most of it is just a blur..

Found Pictures II

Little Dipper

Mase is really into dipping lately. Toast into dippy eggs, chicken into honey, sandwiches into soup. The kid will dip anything. "Dip" is even one of his new words this week (along with turtle!).

Today, I cut up some yellow peppers and gave him some baby carrots and let him have at a (gasp!) container of ranch veggie dip.

There are no words to express how excited he was.

I've heard that letting a kid dip everything can lead to bad eating habits later in life. I didn't really see the logic... until Mase decided to forget about the veggies and dip his fingers.

I was forced to stop taking pictures when he submerged his entire hand in ranch.

There's More Than One Way to Eat a Grape

... because bowls are way too boring.

I Wish it Had Been My Face

This morning I had to go to a serving alcohol training session at work and, since George worked too, I had to take Mase. The thing was three hours long - from nine until twelve - and it was going to be completely boring, especially for an eighteen-month-old. I spent the morning packing everything I could think of that would stand a chance at keeping him occupied and semi-quiet and ended up running out of the house with a backpack full of toys, a bag of snacks, a sippy cup, Piggy, and my purse. I put Mase on my hip and headed out to the cab waiting in the driveway.

Little did I know, it had just started to freezing rain. I took one step onto the sidewalk and lost it. With all that crap in my hands, there was no way I could catch us. I went down first, landing hard on the ground. Mase went down next, landing even harder, and his little head bashed off the ice-covered sidewalk. He burst into tears, I burst into tears, and the cab driver flew out to help us up. Mason's little dome instantly swelled up and he's now sporting a giant, purple, scraped up bruise above his eye, compliments of his own mama. He cried for two minutes. I cried all afternoon long. I worried about him having a concussion, obviously, but he's been acting like himself ever since, so I think he's gonna make it.

I feel horrible though. Beyond horrible. Especially since I walked away with only a bruised knee, hip, and elbow. Bad, bad Mommy. :(