Merry Mayhem With Weapons…and Pink Eye

Can you find the Christmas cat?

The days have been filled with coffee and sugar cookies and more coffee. They have been runny nose, ear infection, pink-eye days, but they’ve been decorated with e e cummings poetry, plastic ornaments and pine needles.

On Monday I enlisted my mother to help me make Christmas sugar cookies. I have a hippopotamus cookie cutter that I break out for Christmas time, an ode to the immortal Christmas tune, “I want a hippopotamus for Christmas”. I think it’s hilarious but my dear mother was just…not impressed.

And she kept calling it a pig.

And she frosted all of my Christmas hippos green.

Nonetheless, they were delicious. Q was in charge of decorating them and he took his job very seriously. I’m still stepping on sprinkles.  I am sorry to say that they are almost gone and it’s only December 8.

My mother has been asking me why I haven’t been blogging and there are lots of reasons, some big and some small, but mainly I’ve been distracted by conversations with my kids that challenge my ability to keep a straight face. Example:

“MOM! Come into the barn for the party!”
“Um, I’m trying to do dishes, then I’ll come.”
“NOOOO! You’ll miss it, come now! Hurry”
So, I hurry to the playroom AKA barn. I say, “OOOH! Party!” and start to do a little shuffle with a side of a wiggle…
“MOM! NO! NO! You can’t dance!”
“What kind of party is this! I thought you could dance at a party!”
“NO! Not this kind of party. Here! Here’s your sword. You have to ask us what you can touch, because some of these things are dangerous. Like this, this dinosaur, it’s dangerous….its…MATCHES. So, don’t touch it. We are storm troopers, here we are to fight some bad guys.”
“Storm troopers don’t fight bad guys,” I explain, crushing their dreams in the name of Star Wars accuracy, “They work for Darth Vader, who is a bad guy”
“Oh. Well, we are going to fight bad guys so we aren’t Storm troopers. I’M SPIDER MAN! You’re a storm trooper. Try to get us.”
I do an interpretive dance with the foam sword. The baby laughs. I stab two boys in the bottom.
“MOM! Watch out! Tobin is Darth Vader. Run! RUN!”
I look at Tobin, who is in his exersaucer, chewing on his baby toy. He is super chubby and he has pink eye.

If there was a way to wrap all this madness up in a neat bow, I’d do it, but frankly I don’t know how to wrap this thing up. So, THE END and Merry Christmas.

p.s. I still haven’t done the dishes.

11 thoughts on “Merry Mayhem With Weapons…and Pink Eye

  1. we have way too many christmas cookies. like 150. and they're not frosted yet. and i'm dreading the frosting. my husband always makes christmas cookies with the kids and then expects me to decorate them with the kids while he is at work. and i always tell him i hate making christmas cookies, that's why i don't do it. and yet i still have to decorate them. and there's 150. i really don't want to frost them. how about i'll come do your dishes and you can come frost our cookies?


  2. kids and cats and sugar cookies and pretending are much more important than blogging. you can fill us in after christmas, when things quiet down again. ( i realize “quiet down” is a relative term, when you have three kids and a cat and a dog and a husband and the occasional fluffy chicken to consider, but you know what i mean)

    is the cat hiding under the tree? our fat striped tabby, named “junior,” (don't ask me why) used to love hiding under the tree. and sometimes climbing it. which was often disastrous, ornamentally speaking.


  3. I could totally come to this party. Because I don't dance well, I never play with matches and I haven't done the dishes either.


    I totally want a hippopotamus for Christmas.
    Even if he's a green pig.


  4. My dad used to make my mom so mad when we were decorating cookies. He like to have funny and make them look all goofy, and she'd get mad because he wasn't doing it right. I say, if you get mad while decorating cookies you probably aren't doing it right anyway. I gave up on making sugar cookies a couple of years ago. My mom still makes them and sends them to us.

    Your boys are so creative and funny. Wonder where they get it?


  5. i have tears in my eyes from the realness of it all (and ok, from laughing, too).

    guess what? my 15 yo had pink eye last friday. and my daughter had strep. on the same day. no lie. BOOM!



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