Santa's other reindeer

Please, please . . . could someone drop a cookie?

Naughty or nice?

There is no doubt which list these angels are on.

This angel? Well, Santa thinks he's been pretty nice, too.

I almost forgot . . .

Your Christmas card is in the mail. OK, not really. I just didn't get them done this year. Sorry.

New Year's Resolution #1: Get my act together.

Random Christmas musings

Every time I turn on the radio in the van Karen Carpenter is singing a Christmas song. The same song day in and day out. It totally brings me down. I want my Christmas music fun and joyful and lively. Not sounding like my dog just died. Maybe she recorded this ditty at a tough time in her life. But today I found myself telling her to shut up, like she was in the backseat getting ready for the road trip to the mall. Chipmunks anyone?

I found those missing Christmas presents in the coat closet. I'm not really sure why I put them there because they weren't hidden from anyone except me. I have to admit being relieved. I was beginning to question whether I had actually bought them. Insanity is usually a sign of something, I'm just not quite sure what.

Tomorrow marks the start of 11 days of family togetherness. Once Christmas is over, it is my least favorite time of the year. I might be the only one who will admit it, but being together with the family all the time is really not ideal. In fact, the faster everyone gets back to the routine the happier I'll be. Next year I will be encouraging Big Dog to take his vacation early and often so we can avoid this end of year backlog. And now that my closet is clear I can lock the kids in there. And no, you can't steal my idea.

Calling 911, vol. 2

Grandma and Grandpa, stop reading now. The kids want to tell you this story on Friday and I don't want to spoil their fun.

Everyone else, I called 911 last night. Really. And it had nothing to do with too tight underware.

Carly and I were sitting here minding our own business when the smoke detectors went off around 9 p.m.. Lest you think I'm a drama queen, they have gone off before. Sometimes when my cooking gets a little "flavorful", sometimes when the battery gets low. But this time they went OFF. As in not stopping.

I took a quick look around, then sent Carly outside. Another look and still nothing. But those detectors were screaming. The next step was corralling the animals. All it took was a "car ride" for CC to head straight into the van. Mike was another story. Totally freaked out. Which freaked Carly out because she kept sticking her head in the door to see what was going on. I finally caught him and threw him and Carly into the van. Got them parked out front and went back inside.

So here's where I have to note that the experts always say go outside and call 911 . . . BUT there is something compelling that forces you to go inside and look for the problem. Because there has to be a problem somewhere.

At some point I called Big Dog and now he was inside too, looking around. And we're 20, then 30, then 40 minutes into this. And those detectors are still screaming. And we're still running around like crazy people looking for the problem.

I finally convinced him that we needed to call 911. It was late, it was cold, and this whole thing was a little surreal.

"911. What is your emergency?" Who knew they actually answer the phone that way?

And then, about five minutes later, the detectors stopped. They just STOPPED, like it was break time at the post office. It was about that time that the fire truck and the EMT rolled up. And, of course, by now the neighbors have noticed that something is going on.

The long story short is that everything was OK, but we need to replace all of our smoke detectors because, like most things these days, they're not made to last. Geez, that sounded just like my mom.

But tonight I am grateful that it wasn't serious and that our community has the first responders that it does. And hopefully I'll sleep a little better tonight.

It's a Mike Monday

I know this picture overwhelms you with admiration for my picture-taking skills. But I'm posting it anyway. Mike is a cat of mixed emotions at the moment. This photos represents the joy he is feeling. I did a little wrapping and got out the bow box, and now there are bows everywhere. He pounces on them, chases them down the hallway, carries them around. When he gets tired of the ones that are out he gets in the box and picks something new. It's a new game. He plays and I put away. And then we do it again. And, really, it's a pleasure. Watching his hours of fun reminds me of how enjoyable simple things can be.

Now this picture represents Mike's angst. That door is wide open and he wants to go out more than you can imagine. But the snow and cold temperatures have made him think twice. So he sits there and meows. And looks pathetic. And CC sits on the other side, bouncing up and down, waiting for him to make a move.

You know you're getting old . . .

. . . when you can't remember where you put the presents you worked so hard to hide. Guess it worked.

No good deed goes unpunished

Why is it that good intentions always seem to come back and bite you in the butt?

Back on the mammogram soapbox

If you need a mammogram, please get one.

And if you're not convinced, read this article, "Elizabeth Edwards, Rest in Peace," by Melinda Henneberger at Politics Daily.

Filling my Rx at the Von Maur shoe department

I am all about personal health this week, bloggy friends.

Yesterday's breast event was followed this morning by a visit to my general practitioner to have my cholesterol, blood sugar and what not screened. Mostly I just wanted a new Ambien prescription. Which he said he'd give me in January. Boo. But we had a nice chat about the maximum dose. All this time I thought it was just a suggestion.

And, drumroll please, my blood pressure was actually normal. That never happens. EVER. I felt like a superstar.

I told him about a spot near my toes that hurts sometimes. Apparently it's caused by a funky nerve. His suggestion? Buy new shoes. I love that man.

Have you had a check up lately? No? Then get yourself in there. I know I sound like your mother, but honestly, you're not getting any younger. And I want you to be well.

Loving my mammogram

Today was mammogram day, one of my very favorite days each year.

Seriously. I know it's ironic, considering how I go out of my way to avoid other medical appointments. Unless I need a new Ambien prescription. Then I am right there. As a general rule though, I hate to go to the doctor and have been known to postpone, reschedule, anything to get out of it.

But mammograms are different. I have seen first-hand the toll breast cancer can take. I don't want to go there, so I go to the outpatient imaging center instead, on time every year. And I smile while holding my breath and trying not to gasp. Grateful that it's an option.

If you're due for your mammogram, make your appointment now. Invite me along for moral support and I'll spring for lunch.

The case of cookie discrimination

At Hy-Vee yesterday, the lady behind the bakery counter told Riley he couldn't have a free cookie because he was too old. Then she handed one to the boy with us, who ironically is three months older than Riley, but shorter. Riley got one too after I threatened to sue.

Just kidding.

But it was a good reminder to not judge a book by its cover.