"Gross and disgusting? Or charmingly frugal? YOU make the call!" or... "Gawd, Mom, what's that SMELL?"

Hey kids,

I'm sitting here late at night, waiting for the above gingerbread house to set up a little before I add the roof pieces. I thought I'd get the grunt work over with, then tomorrow you kids can do the fun decorating part.

So I have a habit of picking up gingerbread house kits after Christmas, when they drop down to 99 cents or whatever. I figure, any ol' time is a great time to make a gingerbread house, Christmas or not. But then we never do. But I keep buying them anyway. So we have four or five kits in the back of the pantry, in various stages of decay. (Hoarder alert!)

But it's okay! It's not like we're going to actually EAT them or anything, right? When I broke this innocuous-looking kit open, I was knocked back on my heels from the ... aroma ... that hit me in the face. Rancid, and then some. You know that smell that you get when you find a 13-year-old canister of Crisco hiding in the cupboard? (No? You don't, you say? Another Hoarder alert, perhaps?) Well, it's kind of like a moldering cardboard smell, for those of you who don't know. I figure the smell will go away after it sits out for a day or two.

So how gross of a mother am I to not just throw the whole thing away and spring for a new one? Discuss. Or disgust?

But THIS, this is my very secret wish: that tomorrow you kids can decorate your endearingly sloppy, smelly little gingerbread house, but when you leave for grandma's, I will make my own, painstakingly overwrought gingerbread masterpiece that I will post on Facebook.

Anyway. Big day today:


Started the day out with some robot action.


Then to the park to get some scooter time. It's been in the 60s all week, so we better make hay while the sun shines.


While we were at the park, we found a bunch of acorns. So we brought home a handful, slapped some glitter glue and some googly eyes on them, and will hang them on the little Christmas tree in your room.

As a side note... we found plenty of acorns, but there was a dearth of the little "hats" that are supposed to be on them. We spent a good deal of time looking for hats, but could only find four, while we found dozens of the hatless acorn bodies. I had formed a little theory in the back of my head as to why this might be, but didn't want to bore you two with it. But then Jakob pipes up, "Mom, I think there aren't any hats because they're still in the trees. When the wind blows, the acorns fall down, but the hats are left behind." Okay, Dr. Science. Any random thoughts on this whole global warming mess?


Decorated the tree tonight.


Posed in front of said tree.


More practice tying shoes. You're both right on the verge of "getting it."

Not pictured: Dinner at Jethro's with Nana and Papa, a trip to the Dollar Tree for gingerbread house candy, and the long, satisfying nap that I took when you guys hung out over at Nana and Papa's house for a couple hours.

All this, and I get tomorrow off, too! I can't believe that I worked Saturdays for as long as I did. That was just stupid crazy.

Okay, back to the rancid gingerbread house. Stinky-ass thing needs a roof! Love you much. Be good. Santa's still watching you.