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Where is Michael Phelps When You Need Him?

Mr. Husband has a very big family. It's in part because his parents are divorced and remarried, in part because the whole lot of them breeds like crazy, and in part because his Grandparents are all still living. The man has four sets of Grandparents, and three of them live in or near Indianapolis. We, of course, make an effort to spend as much time as we can with all of them when we are in Indiana, and that includes the ones that live on a farm a little ways out of town.

The farm was "home base" for us today as about 15 or so of us as we mixed a little shopping with Chuck E. Cheese and Pacers basketball. We started the day at the farm, and we needed to stop there in between our stages of running to drop off the non-basketball lovers. During the drive out to the farm, Alexis FINALLY succumbed to the Power of the Nap and was sound asleep in the back of our SUV as we pulled into the driveway. As I am a wise coward, I dared not risk waking the sleeping Toddler, so we left the SUV running and I stood playing with some of the other kids in the yard near the driveway while keeping a close eye on the sleeping beauty.

Meanwhile, Mr. Husband set out to take care of the dogs. They, of course, are with us on the trip because OMG don't ever show up to a family function without the Bulldog because she IS who people want to see. We figured we would leave them at the farm during the game, so Mr. Husband wandered off to take them out for a good romp around the back yard, in hopes of getting Cody (the Havanese puppy) to go to the bathroom. Somewhere along the line I gained an unwanted Bulldog, so I figured I would try ditching her by walking out to where Mr. Husband was walking with Cody. I looked around and finally spotted them out back by the pond.

As Meg and I trudged our way back there, Mr. Husband suddenly started yelling at Cody. It wasn't a, "You little jerk, stop rolling in the cow poop" sort of yell either (and, yes, I do know that yell, but Jasmine was the one who was on the receiving end of that), it was more of a frantic, desperate yell. It didn't take long to figure out that the facts that Mr. Husband was looking directly at the pond and that I couldn't see Cody anywhere were not a good thing.

Mr. Cody, heretofore to be known as The Little Sh@t, decided to run up and over the bank on the side of the pond and check out all the ice. In his quest to fully earn his new name (which will not be spoken aloud because Alexis doesn't need to call him that), he then decided to check to see just how thick the ice was on this cold November day. Cody weighs in at a whopping five pounds right now, and I can confirm with absolute certainly that while the ice was frozen pretty thick, it wasn't frozen thick enough to support those five pounds.



The Little Sh@t went for a swim in the icy, cold pond.

That's not the best part, though. The best part is that while The Little Sh@t is an excellent swimmer, he was not so skilled as to figure out how to get his little paws on a sheet of ice and fight his own way out of the murky water. Nope. Mr. Husband had to jump in and save his little behind.

I grabbed the soggy Havanese from Mr. Husband's arms as he emerged from the pond and ran inside to get towels for my two wet boys. It's too bad that I was in such a hurry as I passed by my father-in-law, because I'm quite certain that I missed a FANTASTIC facial expression as I breezed past him. He had noticed that Cody was soaked and I had said, "Wait 'til you see my husband."

Who was soaked.

Really soaked.

Everybody is fine, including the Toddler who slept through all of the commotion.

I'm just really glad a good portion of that big family was at the house at the time, because THAT is a story which will need to be retold several times.


Hoping You Had a Surprisingly Great Thanksgiving


Easily Impressed, but We'll Raise That Bar

If you have recently dropped in on our special brand of crazy, you may not know just how much of a Christmas freak I am. I like lights. A lot of lights. A LOTTA LOTTA lights. And trees. Oh, how I love me some Christmas trees. I love me five Christmas trees these days, and fully intend to love me more when we eventually move. One for every room, baby.

In order to accommodate my crazy, I usually start decorating shortly after Halloween. I catch a lot of crap about it, but there is simply no way to get everything up in one or two days. I need a few weeks at MINIMUM, and since we go out of town the week of Thanksgiving, in my perfect world everything is done before we go so that I can flip the switch on it all as soon as we get back.

This year, however, has been out of control. I'm soooooo far behind. In fact, when it became obvious that I was so behind that our household Light Up Night was going to have to be sometime in February, I decided to take a day off from work especially to put up lights out in the yard. Monday was the big day, and I woke up bright and early, threw on some junk clothes, and headed out.

Then quickly remembered that Mother Nature HATES me.

You know how I've been crying about the lack of snow? Um, yeah. I'm STILL crying about the lack of snow. I am open to two options when it comes to the weather on Christmas light days--it can be freezing cold and snowing (if it's going to be cold, I demand snow) or it can be 70 and sunny. There is no option for 40 and raining. NO OPTION.

And yet, that's exactly what I got. It rained and rained and rained all day Monday. You know what goes really well with electricity? Water. I would tell you how many times I got a nice little jolt of power through my rain-soaked gloves, but I have no idea how many times it happened. I think I lost the ability to count past ten right around the 8th shock. Or maybe it was the 9th. It was definitely before the rain managed to soak it's way all the way through my jeans.

I managed to put up about 5000 lights total, which is nowhere near where I need to be. I'm not sure how I'm going to find time to finish, but I can guarantee I will because when Alexis came home and saw the sad little light display she said, "Momma, it's so bootyful! LOOKY!" and stood in the yard for over ten minutes just marveling at the pretty lights.

Girl, you ain't seen nothing yet, but you will.