Nose Pegs

Dear Millie,

I love when you write!  I wish you could write to me for a living.  Thank you for your sweet words yesterday!  And also for the cookie recipe…I like my peanut butter cookies just so, and yours are killer!

We let the kids sleep by the Christmas tree last night.  Kind of.  We have the Christmas tree on the wood floor, so we set out all the cushions from the couches and sheeted them together and put a mattress pad on top for good measure.  Everyone was comfy and cozy (except for Lucy, whose nightly migrations take a couple of hours before settling).  Around 1am, Paul woke Gordon up (good boy!) to tell him he’d thrown up.  I’ll spare you details, but everyone spent the rest of the night in their respective beds (except Lucy, who ended up on the mat in our bedroom, and Paul, who informed me this morning that he’d slept on the landing midway down the stairs).  It would be naive of me to think that this was a fluke and that Paul will be the only sickie, but I hope we experience a Christmas miracle and that Paul’s episode will be the extent of it.

I was making breakfast and Paul was sitting on a stool behind me in the kitchen.  I noticed that he had some skin flaking off his nose, and Truman walked in as I was brushing it off.  Truman asked, “Was that a peg on his nose?”  I was completely confused.  I was informed that nose pegs are common (I was conjuring up images of Pinnochio), though they can be anywhere, really, and that if you don’t take care of your skin, they can be black dots, or red bumps.  Teenagers get them a lot.  Pegs!  I love it.

For the last couple of days, I had a sign on the basement door letting the kids know that the basement was off limits until further notice.  I was wrapping presents down there yesterday and there is a large one that I hadn’t gotten to yet.  Lucy was with me so that I could keep a better eye on her, and Vanessa was supposed to be upstairs playing with play dough.  I got a phone call and was trying to keep Lucy occupied while I talked.  When I hung up, I noticed Vanessa was right next to us, riding the swivel car thingie (similar to this, not that it matters, but if/when there’s a Little Adams, you should get one!  Only, find it for half off or something because that’s kinda pricey)!  WHAT.  I hollered at her Beast-style to get out of the basement (“GET OUUUUUUUUT!”) (okay, it probably wasn’t that bad, but it wasn’t sweet, that’s for sure).  She ran upstairs and I felt terrible (sounds like Stephanie Nielsen had a similar experience)!  I apologized to her and gave her a hug.  I still felt bad about it, but last night, Vanessa walked up to me and said, “Mom, I forgive you for getting mad at me when I was in the basement.”

Because Vanessa is awesome, I’ll leave you with this gem from about two seconds ago: “Mom, guess what happens when you come to a girl slumber party?”

“Umm, I don’t know, it’s been a long time since I’ve been to one.”

“You have to spend the rest of your life eating cake in the bathroom!  Bye, Mom!”

Maybe we should have a slumber party?



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