Hey Jakey,

Merry merry day-after-Christmas. We're all a bit worn out and over-stimulated.

We got back last night from spending a few days at your gramma and grampa's. This stay was particularly toxic for me this time around. About a half hour in the house was my limit, before I started wheezing and crying and itching and swelling, so I spent a good deal of time out in the RV. I managed to get through the entire fourth Harry Potter book, and about a dozen femmi-femme-femme magazines: US, Lucky, Allure and Cosmo and such.

Sarah Jessica Parker states in US Magazine that she tells her young son that very good boys get TWO presents from Santa at Christmas, and that her son gets soooo excited that he's getting two presents. I think that's what we're going to have to start doing. This was Christmas-present overkill for an 11-month old infant. I refrained; I actually only bought you a rocking horse and a baby cell phone (as did everyone else. You now have a total of 5 brand-new baby cell phones...). Daddy bought you a train and a Fisher Price trike. We filled your stocking with packs of next-step type baby foods.

And that should've been it.

But you're grandparents (all five sets of them...) went crazy. You're drowning in toys and clothes. You've actually regressed a bit when it comes to walking, because you cannot go two steps in our living room without tripping and falling over one of your presents. We need a new house just to house you and your stuff.

Oh well, it's all about you nowadays anyway.

More later. I always say that, but this time I mean it. Love ya!