I know I'm a slacker--so shoot me

When shooting me, I'd go for a tranq-gun with lots of Demerol.  Or some form of codeine.  Just make sure the dose is high enough to knock me out until March when the weather is better and we see more than 10 minutes of sun a day.

Loyal fans, thanks for your patience as I went through a blogging funk.  I promise it won't happen again for at least 20 more minutes (at least as long as it takes to finish this post and go back to my life of procrastination and leisure).  It's not for lack of material--baby, I have material!  And I write dozens of witty posts a week in my head as I'm falling asleep, vacuuming or comforting my dumb baby.  Sadly, I rarely remember anything more than 2 minutes after thinking it (2 seconds on a bad day), so you have to put up with my not-so-witty posts.  Oh, and really cute pictures.

 Most of them of the baby, because hey, people like to see pictures of babies, even if the babies are just staring at Lego Star Wars.  Maybe it's the cheeks.

Christmas was great, except for the influenza and stomach bug.  The picture above was taken just 12 hours before both of those hit.  The two who were vaccinated for the influenza got the yaks.  It was just joy, joy, joy.  We were well enough by Christmas to at least enjoy the fact that we had no broken baby this Christmas.

We made time to go see the "inflatable house", about 10 minutes away.  It's so incredibly hideous that of course it's a family tradition.  We noted that they now have the lights timed to Christmas music since we last went a couple years ago.  Wonder if they've ever been picketed by environmentally-conscious folk?

Lots of snuggling from the peanut gallery since I like it a balmy 64-65 degrees in the winter.  It's the only time I don't work up a sweat just from brushing my teeth.  Scrooge likes it because we save on our gas bill.  The kids just plain don't like it...

You'd cry too if you were dressed like a Who.  (ooh, even rhymed!)  Not to mention the whole gender issue.  At least it matched the bathtub.

The girls & Dh taught the Baby Kitty-Launcher(TM), a game Derek made up when the oldest girl was about 3.  The object of the game is simple: the kid(s) on the top bunk throws all the stuffed-animals down, and the parent(s) laying on their back on the floor below tries to throw them all up.  First one to clear their space wins.  Needless to say, this was a hit with the Wudge who delights in any mischief and mayhem. 

 

 Every time he would throw things over, he would check to make sure it went down saying "Wow" or "Ohhhh".

He's a climber.  He wanted grapes, so he helped himself.  We found him eating freshly rinsed black beans from the strainer in the sink the other day.  (Really regretted the diapers after that one.)  Doesn't he look devilishly handsome in his ski-chalet sweater?...

He thinks if he does his cheesy-cute smile that it will be okay that he's sitting on the table, next to a container of nuts...

 He loves his sisters.  It's unfortunate that he usually expresses that love is such violent ways: slapping, body slams, and eye-gouging.  You can see how unhappy Domba is about the whole situation.

 I'm trying to remember things like what eye-color my family members' have.  It's hard when Band Hero sees them more than you.  I'm sure those karaoke & guitar skillz are going to come in handy when they turn in the college applications.  Or maybe Taylor Swift will let them be her back-up singers. 

 More climbing, more buttons to push.  I found him in a quandry today: he was sitting on top of the piano and mad that he couldn't push the keys his booty was already depressing.  It's all he has since we won't let him throw the Wii controllers against the TV screen.