I apologize, as of late I love the word wench. I don't mean actually calling anyone a wench (although I don't mind it when that happens on the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills - which I only started watching, well, in December. Side note - WHAT is wrong with those women?). It's more that I've been finding myself using it this way..."Self control is a real wench." OR "Multi-tasking is double wench."
I don't know what's wrong with me.
In any event, December wasn't actually a wench. I was trying to be sarcastic - but now I'm just too far down the road for that work.
December was actually one lovely month.
There was food.
And drink.
And presents.
And grandparents.
And toys.
Oh, sweet toys.
Wait. Doesn't this look like the Seward Family Band? They're all in purple and jamming.
Oh, and there was popcorn. Lots of popcorn. Thanks Uncle Jeff.
Mostly - it was just nice to have two weeks together to slow down as a family. Because, as it turns out, we do best as a family in slow-motion. We're not run-arounders. We're sit and play-ers (sometimes in dress up clothes).
So, January is here, and with it comes work and school and discipline. Sigh.
And to top things off, Dave and I are embarking on some sort of cleanse/detox thing (not in the Lindsay Lohan sorta way) this week, and all we'll see for the next three weeks are food items that look like this.
Help us. Please.
Actually, don't help us - stay away from us. Because we're probably going to be angry, mean people. But that's okay. Because we've got 11 more months before we have to answer to Santa again.
Happy January.
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