Regardless, I realized how much I had missed getting my word on. (Despite the fact that you probably haven't missed that phrase. At ALL.)
So, 2012, it's ON. I promise. For real.
And while I'm talking to you, 2012, I'd like to thank you for a great start to the new year. Well, except for that time I took AG to school with my pants on backwards.
That wasn't so great.
Other than that, I've enjoyed starting the year without morning sickness, or being in the thick of nursing a baby, and definitely without a pesky snowstorm that shuts down the whole entire city for a week straight. Right when my girl is dropping her morning nap. Even if it would perhaps make for some good snow-kayaking.
(Oh, who am I kidding? Snow-kayaking is never good. And if you think I'm not praying that it has no opportunity to make it's rednecky appearance this year, you would be mistaken.)
Ahem, point being....2012, you're getting your own post. But it'll have to happen at a later date, because right now I need to recap Christmas 2011. Also known as the year that AG loudly proclaimed that she was Santa AND baby Jesus, to anyone who would listen.
A.k.a The Year of the Christmas Identity Crisis.
We started off Christmas two days prior to Thanksgiving, when I put up our Christmas tree. That's also when I begin maniacally wrapping presents that I had stashed all over my house like some kind of Christmas-y hoarder.
|Yes, we had to cram our tree into a corner. A section of lights also went out about a week before the big day.|
While my OCD-ness
We went to my hometown to spend Christmas Eve Eve with my parents, and then went over to my aunt's house for Christmas Eve lunch.
Later in the day, we came back to Atlanta for Christmas Eve dinner at Jamey and Sara's house.
|AG's face cracks me up in these pictures. I feel that she's all "Hey Ma, Why's this bow the size of Texas?"|
(Except that she totally doesn't call me Ma, but it sounded better for the story.)
On Christmas Eve, Sara gave me the cutest pair of pj's to wear on Christmas day. She and her sister always wear matching pj's on Christmas morning, and I felt completely honored to be included in their tradition. After I stopped geeking out about our new sisterly bond (and after John and Jamey stopped making fun of us in obnoxious valley-girl accents), we read the Christmas story and all went to bed so that Santa could visit.
(Or so John could put together AG's new giraffe rocker. One or the other.)
Here are our Christmas Day photos....also known as, I Need to Post Them On the Blog, Just in Case My Computer Gets Another Virus and Really Dies Next Time.
Also known as, Sherri Needs to Go Buy An External Hard-Drive or Something Else Tech-y Sounding To Back Up the 5 Years of Pictures Housed on This Computer.
Matching pajamas and silly hats....what's not to love about Christmas?
During the week after Christmas, we spent time hanging out, seeing movies, and crazily trying to visit the Atlantic Station H&M the day after Christmas.
(Hi Sherri? Remember how stressed out you get when you shop at H&M? All those unorganized piles, loooong dressing room lines, and random strangers stepping on you? You know how you eventually begin shoving random articles of clothing into your shopping basket without even trying them on? Which results in you giving Sara the cute dress you found that sadly fits only one of your legs?
But the day after Christmas? Girl, that is truly certifiable. Let's not do that ever again, shall we?)
Next, we were on to New Years. As total slackers, we decided to have friends over, oh, about 2 days before New Years Eve. We ended up with a great crowd, and I actually stayed up til almost 3am.
(Which probably hasn't happened since college, and resulted in me guzzling caffeine like a champ 4 hours later.)
|Hey, thanks for the self-taken portrait guys. It's never at all alarming to find out that your camera has been confiscated by boys.|
|Kristin's due in about another month, and I cannot WAIT to spoil her little one to death.|
And may I note that she is almost full-term, and looks about like I did in month 6 of pregnancy?
I would hate her if I didn't love her.
There ya have it. Our Christmas & New Years in a very picture-padded nutshell. Is it acceptable or embarrassing that I'm blogging about Christmas on January 9th?
Um, maybe you shouldn't answer that.