Twas the night before Christmas...

Merry Christmas Eve, from Joanne, Fred, Elise and Seven. How did we spend December 24th? Funny you should ask; let's see some pictures:

Decorated some homemade gingerbread cookies with Elise. If you're wondering why so small and just round, it was so Elise could have a cookie or two and we didn't have to be too worried about the carb count (I didn't have any small cookie cutters). In case you're interested, they're 4g of carbs each. I know this because I am insane. Let's just leave it at that.

Posed for our annual Christmas card photo. This one was a fail (Seven was sticking out her tongue in protest of having to endure such humiliation).

Went to Christmas Eve service at our church. Sorry random guy who somewhat looks like the owner of the Cowboys, I am too tired to photoshop you out.

Went to our annual after-Christmas-Eve-service dinner at a steakhouse... YUM!

There are no pictures of this, but on our way home we got into a very sticky situation trying to drive over a frozen over-pass. Thank you God that my husband is such a competent driver and was able to get us out of something could have ended very badly.

Took some pictures of the snow in our backyard. Why, it's ever so pretty!

Unwrapped our traditional Christmas Eve ornament. Every year since Fred and I have been married, we've given each other an ornament that we open on Christmas Eve. After Elise was born, she got to join in the fun. The only downfall is she then opened Fred's ornament, my ornament, and tried to open every other present under the tree.

She likes hers!

Elise's carousel (she LOVES a good carousel ride... heck, she even loves a bad one).


My snowman... how apropos!

Fred's ornament... he is!

Fred took Seven for a walk in the snow. A little insanity on her part ensued. Snow is like crack to this dog.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

The Seven 2002 Operating Manual

When we went to San Francisco a few weeks ago, we entrusted the care of our dog Seven to our wonderful friends, Nate and Leanna (and their horse-of-a-dog, Nellie). They asked us if we had any instructions for Seven's care, and I remembered that I had written out something years ago as a joke. It made me laugh, so I decided to post it here. Enjoy!

Congratulations on your temporary ownership of the Seven 2002 model. We hope you will be pleased with her many features as a pet. We have included some basic instructions on the operation of this model so you can maximize your temporary ownership experience!

The Seven 2002 model operates best if given the food that is designed for her make and model. Feeding food that is not normally in her diet may lead to the expulsion of noxious materials from either end. Normal intake of food for this model is approximately 2 cups per day, 2/3 in the morning, 2/3 around 3:00 pm, and the last 2/3 before bedtime. This model must maintain food in her stomach due to a system bug that causes purging from the front end when the stomach is empty.

Please make sure the Seven 2002 model is separated from other makes and models at feeding time. Failure to do this may cause, but is not limited to; snarling, gnashing of teeth, biting, flying fur, bleeding, serious injury and even death.

The Seven 2002 model is equipped for swimming, and enjoys it, but we ask at this time for you to deny her this privilege. Please make sure she is not left unattended for long periods of time near swimming areas.

Please do not allow the Seven 2002 model up on beds. Though you may do this with your current make and model, the Seven 2002 model is prohibited from lounging in beds as it could lead to rebellious behavior. You may, however give her permission to sleep under the bed.

Normal bowel movements for this model is approximately twice daily.

Just as funny was the email we received several days into our trip:

2002 model works well despite propensity to molt into many new and smaller models. This model may not wish to be returned. :-)

Thanks Nate, Leanna and Nellie for taking such good care of our girl!

Let's get us a tree!

Ahhh, the annual jaunt to the Christmas tree farm. Or as I like to call it: "Let's try and make Joanne's head explode day".

It's not that I don't love our tradition (which started 9 years ago), of trekking out to a Christmas tree farm in the middle of nowhere, selecting our "perfect" tree (this one... no wait, this one. How about THIS ONE? Where's that first one again? They all freaking look the same!), and schlepping it back to our house. It's that life these days is a little more complicated, and everything rides on keeping with the schedule.

So we started out this morning by waking up late. Okay, no problem, let's just get ready as quickly as humanly possible. We piled into the car only 45 minutes behind schedule. And we were very low on gas.

But because we like to live dangerously, we pointed the car east and drove. At a very old-lady-like speed of 60 MPH. Fred has learned the hard way not to speed.

We got to the farm and ran to where the tractor picks you up for a hayride out to the field. I gave Fred, Elise and Seven very explicit instructions... we have 20 minutes to find our tree. At the end of those 20 minutes if we're not chopping something down I'm going to close my eyes, spin around and point. Whichever tree I'm pointing at, we're taking. I don't care if it's 20 feet tall.

tractor ride!

With that in mind, we were off. To my surprise, we found a tree we all agreed on quite quickly. Unfortunately, there was nobody around to take our traditional "in front of our tree before we sacrifice it in the name of Christmas" photo, so we propped the camera up on Elise's diaper bag, set the timer and ended up with not a bad picture, considering.

Our tree!

After we cut down the tree, hauled it back, paid for it and strapped it to the car, that's when the fun began. We were trying to get out of a rather small parking area when one of the cars in front of us got stuck, essentially blocking our way out.

Now I was starting to freak out. Elise is on a type of insulin that starts to peak around four hours after we give it to her (hence the keeping to the schedule thing). If she's not eating her lunch when it starts to peak, her blood sugar will drop and she could pass out or have a seizure. We had planned to leave the farm and drive about 15 minutes to Chick-fil-a for lunch. We were fast approaching her time to eat and were stuck in the parking area. But like any good D-Momma, I had some food with me and started to feed her in the car.

Luckily there was another way out, but Fred had to go down a long line of cars and tell them to back out the other way. Which commenced the poorest display of driving I have ever seen in my life. People were backing out and turning the wheel the wrong way and almost crashing into trees. Women were vacating the driver seat so their husband (or some other male) could back them out. It made me weep for my gender. We were finally free about 10 minutes later.

Now were we not only running against the clock for lunch, but to get Elise back in time for her nap. We don't miss nap time at our house for anything. Because I said so.

What followed is a comedy of errors that you can only shake your head at and laugh. We missed the exit to Chick-fil-a and it took an extra 10 minutes to turn around (due to stupid drivers in front of us, and slow, small-town lights). We were pretty much running on fumes, so we decided to fill up right after lunch. First a guy stole our pump. Then the pump we picked was on the wrong side for our car and the hose didn't stretch. Then they didn't take Amex (the card we use because we get 3% cash back). On the way home I swear the tree was going to take flight from the roof of our car at any moment.

But, we made it. They tree stayed attached to the car, Elise BG was fine (albeit a little high), and she napped for an hour and a half when we finally got home. Most importantly, my head didn't explode.

If it had, Fred wouldn't have been able to take this rather cute picture of my daughter and I.

Why I'll be taking up residence in a mental insitution soon

I don't know what you think it looks like, but it's dog fur.

But that alone is not enough to make me want to commit myself.

It's the fact that this tuft of hair (admittedly rather small compared to some of the tumbleweeds that roll through my house), appeared a mere 60 seconds after I had just finished vacuuming.

But that's not even the whole story either.

This seemingly innocuous furry flotsam showed up only a minute after I turned the vacuum off, AND my dog was not even inside the house!

Which begs the question, where did it come from?

It shouldn't surprise me, really. I mean, my dog sheds her body weight in fur every day. And while I should roll out my Eureka at least every other day, I don't. Because who has that kind of time? Who would eat all the bon bons if I did that?

I've threatened to shave Seven on many occasions, but Fred is not cool with it. Not even if I do something funky, like just shave her body and leave her head and tail intact.

Sometimes Fred is just no fun.

I may do it anyway.

Walking the (real) Dog

All safety measures were observed during the taking of this photo. All squirrels were cleared from the area, lest Seven take off after one with Elise in tow. Yes, I let my child play in the street.

A Girl and Her Dog

Too many long posts lately. Instead, a picture!

Elise and Seven

Elise discovers the window

They seem to be plotting something...


Check out those legs!

There's my Poppa!