I Survived the Christmas Portraits and All I Got Was This Blog Entry

So we did the whole every three months/Christmas portraits at Sears last night (coming to mailbox near you) and the ONLY way we could get the Gavinator to participate was to feed him trans-fat laden cookies and crackeres, let him play with shiny balls, and throw things at him. You all better appreciate our Christmas cards this year because I broke a friggin' sweat. A sweat I say! As usual, Grace was mello yellow and Gavin was Pookie (New Jack City) on the highest crack high ever.

Speaking of Christmas, can I give a shameless plug to the two most adorable things I want for Gracezilla this year? I want this and this Too cute. Our plan is not to buy her any toys because the same toys we bought for Gavin in 2003 are the same hot toys now. Unfortunately, the Gavin throws a fit anytime we let Grace anywhere near something that belongs to him so he may just be our giant, screaming wrench in our Christmas gift-giving plans. Today I gave her a teething toy that had never belonged to him- it was a gift from his cousins- and he ripped in from her grasp and crossed his arms to tuck it under his pits and screamed "NONE!!!!!!" (translation: hell no, beeeeeyyyyyaaaaaaccchhhhhh!). I'm in for a long 18 years, aren't I?

I'm tired so I'm off to veg on the couch before Grace awakes screaming after realizing there is not a boob in her mouth. For the past few nights she has given me two beautiful, wonderful, orgasmic hours of uninterrupted bliss for me to channel surf and eat candy before she wakes up. 5 months old and I consider two hours sleeping through the night. There is something wrong with me.