Don't tell your Dad.

Oh, is he not suppose to be up on the furniture?

Oops...



But just look at those eyes...



They could get away with anything.

It's even worse when I remember the day we got him...



Melt my heart, sweet little puppy...



Go ahead, teeny fuzz ball...



Do whatever you want.



Yeah, that's ok too.



...just don't tell your dad. ;)

One Saturday Morning

The sun was shining



The boys were playing



These little lambs never made it out the door



It was a good day

Somebody needs get that boy some cotton candy

I don't want to talk about the National Championship game on account of the fact that our star quarterback left the game injured within the first few minutes of the first quarter, and we had to bring in our back-up who has a ton of potential, but is a freshman who looks like some of the kids I used to babysit. A little guy out there playing in the National Championship game. Jimminy Cricket. Not the best combination for the BCS Championship, folks. I just wanted to go up and hug him afterwards for giving it what he had, despite all the big brutes around him ready to pummel his rookie butt right into the 50 yard line. We sure had a lot of fun screaming in the last 6 minutes of the game when we came back from a score of 6-24 (23?) to 21-24...then the last 3 minutes I sat with my jaw dropped as we watched the final score turn from 21-24 to an ugly 21-37. Ouch. Somebody get this crowd a band aid. And that's when I wanted to go up and give him a hug. Or at least some cotton candy. You know, for sticking with the big leagues in the biggest game of the year. I love cotton candy.

I also love getting my hair done. After I went to the hair salon for the first time in way too long, I came home and did some laundry then sat and read The Red Tent while I waited for the hubbers to come home from work. He walked in the door and said, "Wow. You look great! I'm taking you out to dinner. You just look too good to stay here and eat mac and cheese at home." At this point two thoughts crossed my mind: 1) How did he know I was going to make mac and cheese for dinner? and 2) I must look pretty "rustic" every other day of the week because the only thing I had done differently that afternoon was get some partial highlights and throw on a shirt instead of some pj's. Guess I'll have to pull the hair out of the ponytail and throw on a sweatshirt more often because I had a ball being treated to a dinner out on the town in the middle of the week.



I also love these puppy eyes. I mean, just look at him.



I also love wearing socks that match. This is because most of the time, due to my laundry affliction, my socks don't match. Similar to the predicament the hubs found himself in the other night when we were watching Biggest Loser. Nice socks, Big Guy. I'd be lying if I said that isn't really really normal around here.



And of course, I also love the chocolate ice cream that found its way into my freezer after our last grocery run. I also love eating ice cream while watching The Biggest Loser. Because who doesn't want to stuff their faces full of fats and sugars just for fun to see if Jillian Michaels will pop out of the screen and stand on the arm of your couch and yell at you and ask you why the heck you think you can sit there and eat that ice cream during the Last Chance Workout? I love it. Such a thrill. And I love watching this little critter eye ball my spoon until each and every last bite is gone and he has exhausted all efforts to convince me he deserves a lick and finally heads back to his spot on the other side of the couch. Bwa ha ha



Tonight I am racking up a record amount of clean laundry and doing a few last minute things to get our house ready for a showing early next week...looks like somebody did a drive-by and is interested in taking a look. So we'll see. Don't want to get our hopes up, but that little house out in the country with the woodsy fence and the dog romping in the front yard is sure to be haunting my dreams tonight...

Hook 'em

Tonight we are:

Fired up

Snowed in

Hanging out with family and the various animals that come with it

Surrounded by our own body weight in munchies

Cozy & warm

Rooting for our Texas Longhorns during the National Championship game



Hook 'em Horns!!!

Pudding

I can't say this isn't my stairwell. Because it is.



But lo, there are big plans in the works for getting this done. In a timely manner.

As in, like, before my baby is born in April.

Actually, maybe sooner seeing as how I hauled this stuff from our bedroom and tossed it down the stairs tonight. The mountain of laundry at the foot of our bed was seriously hampering my midnight bathroom runs. So I finally gave in and took step one of 80 in getting the laundry done. It's on the same level as the washing machine now. Sweet progress.

The laundry may be in peril, but we've made progress in other parts of the house. The Christmas stuff is put away, we conquered the nightmare that was our storage closet upstairs, and the hubs employed the help of the Scrubbing Bubbles and put the serious hurt on the shower tonight.

In addition to all that organizing, thanks to Santa, the nursery is well on its way. Eventually we're going to have to buy this little guy some diapers, but in the meantime, at least his pad looks good.

***Please note: The bear's name is Pudding. Don't let the hubby tell you any different. He got to name the Owl (Chuck) and the Raccoon (Squiggles? Really? Really?!?), so I am standing my ground and declaring the bear "Pudding". The hubs is not a fan. He thinks it needs something more manly. Squiggles?! But Pudding it is. Because who doesn't love Pudding?

And note to self: Don't finish the majority of your nursery decorating by the time you are 6 months pregnant. There are still 3 months to go, and you may start naming random objects.

Moving on...



I just love the chipmunky guy in the corner. So cute. So friendly. Maybe I need to name him.



We bought this puppy on sale for 50% off at the grocery store last weekend. It was an absolute beast to put together. Took all the brain power the hubs and I could muster, but boy is it a cutie.



These are my favorite curtains ever. My mom and grandmother bought them for me in a pre-Christmas Walmart shopping frenzy. I love pre-Christmas Walmart shopping frenzies.



And a nursery tour wouldn't be complete without featuring Squiggles the raccoon on his perch up in the sycamore tree. Or birch tree? Maple? Whatever. Sycamore sounds the most Hundred Acre Woods-ish. Sycamore tree.



So that's that. The laundry is in total and typical upheaval, but just about every other room in the house is a put together product of a post-Christmas nesting attack, compliments of yours truly.

Now I'm off to go grab a bowl of ice cream instead of throwing in another load of laundry. Bwahaha

Good to the last drop

We spent the last hours of our Christmas break venturing to the ends of the earth with Bear Grylls. I have never seen anything more disgusting than watching that guy prep a calico caterpillar for dinner. Oh. My. Gross. I finally decided to turn my head away anytime Bear said, "An this stuff is actually quite edible." Because it inevitably meant he was going to pop it into his mouth and stuff was going to gush out, and then we would receive a full status report on the way it tasted so we didn't feel the need to go scrounge up some sea cucumber for ourselves. When someone says, "it tastes as if all your pals put together all their boogies and stuffed them into a sausage skin," you kind of decide to pass on the sample spoon, thankyouverymuch. Anyway, I got a kick out of turning my eyes away just enough to block the tv screen, but also see all of the hubby's facial expressions as he watched every last bite. I figure I need to put in my time watching something the male species considers entertaining if I'm going to be raising a little boy soon. Bear Grylls seemed like a good place to start.

After clocking in our hours with Bear, and learning how to survive on a desert island or in a motor propelled parachute cruising over Mount Everest (thank goodness we now know what to do in those situations), the hubby suggested we watch one of his new hunting videos. Here's the thing: that didn't sound like any fun to me at all, and I had already put in my soon-to-be-mom-of-a-little-boy time. So naturally, when the hubs popped in his video, I made my way on over to the computer to catch up on my pressing blogging schedule. So many blogs to read, so little time.

As I caught up on the latest Pioneer Woman happenings, I hear the hubby laughing out loud and look over to see this:



It was the hub's dream come true. He has always wanted a hunting dog. At least, he's wanted a hunting dog since the day we brought home our puggle, who is anything but a hunting dog. We still aren't sure why we brought home a puppy who was bursting with energy and has an obsessive desire to exercise his vocal chords anytime the wind blows outside. But he is a good snuggler and has some seriously cute wrinkles. So we'll keep him. Especially since he's begun to show an interest in his daddy's favorite past time. The hubs was so proud. And they're both still snuggled up on the couch enjoying the sweet sounds of geese hunting, men grumbling, and guns shooting. The perfect bedtime story.

*Ringing in 2010*

We rang in 2010 with good friends, a 90 minute wait at the Outback Steakhouse, Bananagrams, crispy fondue (we haven't mastered the sterno yet), and all the faux fur we could find.

It was a good time...



















Happy New Year!