Don't faint

So I was just reading someone else's blog, and it reminded me that it has been a long time since I've been here. I've been oddly busy lately, not as much of a loser as usual. It's been kind of nice. Today I feel like I've been trampled by a herd of buffalo, so I've been hanging out online catching up here and there.

I keep aiming high in my holiday preparations, but somehow I keep falling flat. I've done all kinds of ambitious things, but not the things that I should be doing. I've been making homemade ornaments for the Christmas tree with the girls, but I don't have the tree up yet. I've bought a cupboard full of baking supplies, but done no baking. I did, however, make chocolate covered cherries. Who knew you could make those yourself?

My friend Denise gave me a recipe, so I did it. I'm pretty damn proud of myself, too. I had to rearrange the fridge and hide them behind 47 jars of pickles (how does that happen?) to keep my family from eating them before they liquefy, and I'm hoping there will still be a few at Christmas.

That's all I've done. I have done no shopping, no baking, no decorating. It's 18 days (447 hours, 26783 minutes, or 1606938 seconds) until Christmas. Remember a few minutes ago when I said I haven't been loserish? Yeah, I take it back. We might have a Whoville Christmas this year - we'll just sing a song while holding hands on Christmas morning and call it a year. Think the kids will buy it?

Yeah, me either.

My husband, a zip tie hero

My kids broke my Christmas tree. It wasn't intentional... there was a cord wrapped around the base leg (it's a fake tree), and the cord got caught in their play shopping cart. They kept pushing it, which tightened the cord, which broke the plastic. My tree fell over.

I cried. I picked up broken glass balls. I cried some more. I got out the boxes to take it all down.

"But wait," my husband said. "Let me see if I can fix it."

"It's hooooopelessss. I'm taking it downnnnn."

"Give me one minute. I'll see if I can rescue it."

I had to leave the room. I couldn't stand the thought of Christmas without a tree (so I was being overdramatic, I'm a girl and I'm allowed), and I couldn't watch him fail at his mission. Approximately one minute later, he followed me into the bedroom.

"It's fixed."

Huh? By means known only to those with rocketing testosterone levels, my husband fixed the Christmas tree........ with a zip tie. He saved Christmas with a zip tie. My hero.