The Haps

Hey y'all. As my kids say: 'What's the haps?'

Okay. I'm lying. My kids don't actually now say, nor have they ever said that. This is what happens when you are out of practice with writing. You just make stuff up just so you can get going. But now, having lied and having started, I'm pretty sure I can keep going without resorting to lying. I shall, forthwith, update you on "the haps" at Chez Sara and I shall tell it like it is. Or was, depending on when things happened. Time, it's a tricky business, dontchaknow.

First off, let me start by telling you that I was slain by that dastardly little drummer boy. It was an unholy pairing of an army of fake Kardashians and that evil song that pah-rum-pum-pummed me right out of the game. Thanks SNL for your Kimye skit. You really should have a warning. Anyway, it was only 24 hours before the game ended that I was done in. I was sitting in my room, watching a dvr'd episode of SNL with my daughter when it happened. I screamed. In agony. In such a way that my beloved, who had just finished showering, ran out of the bathroom to make sure that someone hadn't actually lost a body part. (Well, he couldn't see it, but I'm pretty sure The Boy took part of my soul.) Then, after hearing my explanation for the ruckus, he just shook his head in disgust and headed back into the bathroom to finish grooming himself and his manly, manly beard.

We had a joyful Christmas with most of my family. My folks and Uncle Grumpy and his kids headed down and we celebrated. And they left this for me:

Yep. I was given the dreaded owls, dressed as a drummer boy, ox, and lamb. The HORROR!

After they left, we had a day to recover and then we had a houseful of friends over on Christmas eve. And then Christmas morning dawned bright and early and this happened:

Select. Fill. Relax. Lying liars!!

Guess who's still finding random styrofoam beans?

It'll be easy, they said! Just select a cover, they said! Just pour in the foam beans, they said! Then relax, they said! Lies! ALL LIES!

Mary was trying to help me and when my father finally came upstairs to see what all the laughing/cursing/crying/screaming/shrieking was about, he shook his head in disbelief. It wasn't long before he, too, was covered in the liesbeans.

After Christmas, Mother Nature decided it was time to bring me to my knees by sending us 12" of snow and a polar vortex that kept my children out of school for the whole first week that they were supposed to be back. Instead of having a two week winter break, they had three. And I almost and a nervous breakdown. The laundry! The food! The different waking/sleeping/eating schedules!

3/4 of my children working on a tunnel. The 4th was off being cool with his friends.

Taken about two seconds before having snow thrown at me.

Then they were back in school for 4 and a half days when they had an early dismissal and a day off for MLK day. As I told my daughter, I'm fairly certain that the Reverend King wouldn't have minded them celebrating his day IN SCHOOL. You know, where they could LEARN and EXPAND their tiny, little MINDS. The bonus this weekend, was seeing my folks again. They came over because my other brother--my TX brother--Uncle SupahJeenius and my niece were here visiting a University and having an audition. It was a fun visit because snow! While my brother grew up here in the midwest, it's been many years since he's been here on purpose in January. He said it was a matter of pride not to wear his hat, but when it got down to about 14 degrees F, he decided he'd rather be warm than proud. He also had a hard time remembering to button his coat and THEN put his gloves on. Winter FAIL. My niece, who has experienced snow a handful of times and wasn't quite mesmerized, was fascinated with the fact that the snow squeaks when you walk on it. Yep. Winter--it's entertaining on so many levels.

I'm hearing now that next week may rival the first appearance of the polar vortex. Yippee. Even my children, who were delighted at having an extended break, are starting to grow bored. They are not hoping for anymore snow days, since their school year has now been extended into June. Now they are just looking for 2 hour delays. I, however, am no longer on speaking terms with the school district's Director of Transportation. Um, not that I ever spoke to the man before. But boy! If he tried to speak to me now, I would give him one heck of a cold shoulder!

Let's see…

Oh!

There was also this:

I got a disco ball for Christmas! So. Much. WIN!

It's just part of my decor--I'm not actually hanging it and doing the hustle or anything. And the best part is--well, besides the faces of people who come over and then exclaim "You have a disco ball? WHY do you have a disco ball? Now I kinda want a disco ball!"--if the sun decides to show up in the morning and do its job instead of hiding behind the gray, gray clouds that are trying to make me curl up in a ball and die, it looks like this in my family room!

And do you know what happens next?

The Dumb Dog loses her mind.

Winning on two levels. Feels good!