I'm Baaaack.

Whoa! I haven't posted since October 26th?!? I think that might be a record. (Well, I don't know if it's a record)

Okay, very quick digression to explain the parenthetical remark up there. There's an old joke about a guy who was trying to steal some albums from a record store. In order to sneak them out of the store, he stuck one in the front of his pants. As he was leaving the store, the manager stopped him.

"Excuse me sir, is that a record in your pants?"

"Well, I don't know if it's a record...."

Hence the remark. Now anytime anybody says anything about a record, that's mine and Mr. Daddy's standard comeback.

Things are good here. Life is busy. Very, very busy.

We've taken a wintry camping trip (which deserves a post of its own), Bubba turned 8 (also post-worthy since we had a house full of 7 and 8-year-old boys). Bubba lost two teeth in two weeks.

Punkin wants to get her ears pierced. She refuses to tell me what she wants for Christmas, insisting that she'll be happy with whatever Santa brings her. I hope she's telling the truth.

Anyway, I've missed you guys. If you see Santa, please tell him I want more time. And yes, I totally got the idea from Burgh Baby. But hey, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?

Do You Smell Updog?

What's updog?

Nothin' man, what's up with you. Hahahahaha! I slay me.

No, I'm not dead....sorry it's been so long since I've written....blah blah blah...yadda yadda yadda. You guys know the drill. Sorry.

And now I'm posting only to leave again for a week in a day or so on our vacation. We were originally planning to go to Florida, but when tarballs started washing up on the beach, we canceled our reservation at the state park. I felt really bad about it -- I hated to do that to Florida, but this is our one vacation a year as a family. Plus, I cannot go to the beach and not get in the water and if tarballs are washing up on the beach, I don't trust what's in the water, no matter what Florida's tourism board says.

We're heading up to western Virginia for several days. The state park we'll be visiting has a large lake and beach and the surrounding town has a lot of stuff going on while we're there. Plus, Mr. Daddy's cousin and his soon-to-deliver wife live there, as does my good college friend (who also was my maid of honor). My friend and I haven't seen each other in years and a LOT has changed since we last saw each other.

I just picked my kids up tonight after they spent three days camping with my mom and stepdad and my niece and nephew. Bubba met me with a litany of every travail that had befallen him in the three days -- he got a ton of mosquito bites, he stabbed his toe, he cut his finger, and he threw up.

"You threw up?!? Why?"

"I rode too long on the tire swing."

Ah. My sympathies, Bubba. I cannot even look at a tire swing without feeling nauseated.

Punkin was asleep before we got through the park gates, as is her custom.

They didn't bathe the entire time they were gone and I'm pretty sure they didn't brush their teeth. If you caught a whiff of funk late this afternoon, it was probably them. If they get cavities I'm sending the Queen Mother the bill.

So, that's what's been going on. I've got some exciting news to share, but I'll have to wait until I have full confirmation before I share. Until then, you'll just have to wonder.