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Did I tell you about the criminal elves we have in Florida?

Yeah, it’s a huge news story down here.

On Christmas Day, a group of the sneaky bastards managed to get past Tucker, Cara, the dogs, the cat and me and stole our baby monitor receiver.

That’s right, folks. Stole it.

It’s either that scenario or Cara wandered off with the damn thing.

Has to be the elves.

We have looked everywhere for this stupid receiver. It really is no where to be found. I know that on Christmas, she was carrying the thing around and talking to it like it was a telephone, but I really don’t know where Cara went with it.

Last night was a tough night.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve bathed Cara and after a bit of playtime, have told her that it’s bedtime and to find Ugly Dog and to head on into her room.

She fusses and bitches, but follows me into her room, nonetheless. I nurse her and lay her on her velour crib sheet. I kiss her forehead and wish her a good night.

Since she was about six months old, I’ve employed the “Ferber Method” - something that I thought that I would never do.

We had to go get groceries today.

We were to that point where you start being “creative” when making dinner and Rice-A-Roni becomes the main course. [Don’t judge! You know you’ve been there.]

As we meandered around Target, Cara was being a rock star and she was completely engrossed by a box of Pop Tarts.

I was struck by how far she’s come in a year.

Trips to Target in the early months were things to be dreaded.

I would carry her around in the sling that Tucker had made us and pray that she could wait thirty minutes before her next feeding.

I’ve bitched written about all of our family being 16 hours away and how Christmas just didn’t feel right. But, despite my Grinchesqe feelings, I still planned a kick ass dinner and wrapped Cara’s presents.

Yesterday started just like any other day. Cara got up early, we all snuggled in bed for a few minutes and then Tucker and I accepted the fact that we couldn’t put off the paper strewing any longer.

Tucker spread all of Cara’s presents around her and she tore into the paper like it was her job; she knew exactly what she was supposed to do.

Here’s to hoping that Santa didn’t bring you coal and switches.

I just got some really good news from my mom.

As I’ve written many times in the past, we’re trying to find a house to buy when we move back to Arkansas.

I have the pre-approval financing paperwork sitting on my desk right now. I know I need to fill it out, but right now I think I’d rather have a couple of teeth pulled.

Anyway, back to Mom and her news.

She called to shoot the shit and mentioned that one of my uncles is “highly” interested in working out a lease-purchase agreement with us.

What’s wrong with me today, guys?

I have been nothing but an evil bitch all day.

I’m sure part of it is due to the horrible traffic and the fact that the weather won’t decide what it’s doing; one day it’s 80 and the next it’s in the 40s. Is it too much to ask for a month of similar weather?!

One thing that I hate about Christmas is the shopping.

I’m going to hell for posting this:

I’ve made a new discovery. As with all of my “discoveries” I’m a bit late to the party.

Oh well. It’s new to me.

My discovery is Google Trends.

Have you heard of this?

Click on that link [it won’t close this window] and look at some of the things that people are searching.

The things that are listed are the top 100 things that people type into Google.

Soupy sales. What the hell is that?

Sweet Home Alabama lyrics is the most popular search in all of Googledom?! I’m sure that says something about our country…I’m just not sure what.

Mom left about three hours ago. She’s been here since Saturday or Sunday and we’ve had a pretty good visit.

Yesterday, Cara, Mom and I all went down to St. Augustine and walked ourselves stupid; my feet still hurt.

I just felt like bitching a bit.

***

From now on you won’t be reading about my feelings on Mom. She’s asked that I don’t talk about her since you would only have my opinion/take on the issue and she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. Whatever. I’ll do what she asks. So, if she pisses me off, I’ll just write “Mom pissed me off today but I’m not going to write about it because she asked me not to.” [I know I’m not supposed to end a sentence with “to”…sue me]