Ho Ho Ho and Ha Ha HA

Ways in which the past week has sucked:

For the 3^rd December out of the past 4 (I think – it might be 4 of 4 if I’ve lost count, and what’s with the regularity?), a load of laundry has turned our kitchen into a lake, thanks to the washing machine somehow backing up into the kitchen and bar sinks. It’s a sickening feeling to hear that distinctive gurgle and realize that your drains are about to vomit.

When Chris casually asks what a message on the computer means, it is never casual or simple. This was no exception. Pan to an entire afternoon trying to stop pictures of boobage from randomly popping up on my screen even though the anti-virus software said the computer was completely protected, all “La la la, I’m doing my job and all is sunshine and candy here in hard drive land!” Uh, no. Nakedy nakedness, all over my screen. Baby girl, running commando after a bath: cute. Skanky women with very large fake hair and very large fake other things and very little else on my monitor: decidedly not.

After finally removing said virus (thank you thank you thank you Dad), the browser was irrevocably screwed up. And couldn’t be uninstalled. Or reinstalled. Or anything. Yes, I know IE is the Velveeta in the land of fine browser cheese, and yes, I’m now a Firefox convert, but I was used to things the way I was used to them and I hate change. Whine, grouse, grumble, complain.

One more computer thing: Firefox was able to import my bookmarks, sort of. None of the headers were linked with the corrected addresses. Food Network pulled up CNN. Amazon pulled up Fantasy Football Today. I have eleventy million bookmarks. I cannot play hide and seek all day with them.

Weather Monday: 70+ degrees, sunny, and gorgeous. Weather Tuesday: barely in the 40s, blowing like a jet turbine. It’s time for the weather to take a melatonin.

Ways in which it didn’t:

The Good Husband Award: Chris spent Saturday afternoon on the roof snaking the drains, which will hopefully prevent a repeat of the Great Flood of ’09. We shall see later this week (please cross your fingers, if only so we don’t have to rent some gigantic machine from Home Depot that makes terrifically disgusting noises and will likely freak my kids right out).

As of yesterday, the Christmas shopping is finished (save 1 Starbucks card, but I’m saving that errand for when I desperately need a gingerbread latte). The Christmas baking, she is also done (why do I feel compelled to bake so much all at once, especially when I’m trying not to resemble the Pillsbury Dough Boy, my mom is diabetic, and I’m not about to let my already amped up children near that much sugar?). The cards, they are mailed (except for those of you who will get yours in person). It’s all over but the wrapping. Um, maybe I should list that last part up above, ugh…

Preschool Christmas Program. All the adorableness of the season wrapped up in 50 some odd kids gleefully signing carols in 17 different keys, none of which actually match the song. Alas, my kid, front and center in the group (and therefore in each and every video and photo taken), spent the entire performance a) coughing into his elbow (points for being coached in proper coughing technique), b) blowing his nose, c) for the love of God, PICKING his nose, and d) randomly staring off into space. Oh well. The video will be eminently useful for showing his prom date in another decade.

I’m really trying feel the festivity and joy of the holidays, but I’m about 50-50 for working the holly jollies versus the bah humbugs. Maybe that gingerbread latte will perk me up. Especially if it’s spiked.

Feel free to send some merry merries my way, as they’d be greatly appreciated. I may have the wrong holiday, but I’m certainly thankful for you this year.