Christmas week...

....is done.

The tree is shedding needles all over the deck. The living room is vacuumed. The presents are (mostly) put away. The dining room that transformed into a wrapping station is now again a (rarely used) dining room. The blowup outdoor Santa is deflated and back in storage. Twinkle lights are no longer twinkling.

Woo freaking hoo.

Sorry Christmas-lovers, but I am glad to be done. This week, for me, to put it bluntly, sucked. The stomach flu that I was hoping was a 24 hour thing turned into a whole-gd-week thing. I think I finally turned the corner today. The 16 hours of sleep I got yesterday must have helped.

It was great to see my family a bunch though. I am sure they loved being around my germy, pukey, sleeping during Christmas eve dinner self. (Trying not to be a negative jerk here...trying.) The girls had a great time and are loving their gifts.

Still, I haven't worked out since last Sunday. (Unless Wii tennis counts for a workout?? My gift for Mike was really a wonderful gift to myself, too.) But seriously. Last Sunday. I am starting to grow crazier and crazier by the minute. Mike being on the treadmill right now is not making things any more sane in my head either. So jealous.

Just want to wait until tomorrow to see if I actually feel well enough. This virus is a really tricky bastard. One day I feel okay....the next terrible....the next, okay. So strange. And no, I am not pregnant.

Just sick. And mad about it. And glad that tomorrow is a new (non Christmas, non stomach flu) week.

Gotta run, E is faking a sore throat to score an ice pop. "Ouchie. Ouchie. My froat hurts. I think a popsicle make me feel better, mommy."

Maybe I will try one, too.

Some Christmas pics.

My sister and Alice. One of them is drooling chocolate from her mouth.


My favorite present. My mom had this made for Alice, the Hi-Ya Baby, as E calls her.


E resting on an Annabelle pillow.


My dad shaking some sense into the Hi-Ya Baby.


Christmas dinner. Alice was replaced by a bottle of wine. Wine doesn't yell at us. :)

Purging

Saturday started with this.


All morning long. I commenced the long overdue playroom purge. Getting rid of all the broken, mismatched, no longer played with toys. All to make room for the new ones from Santa that are not yet broken, mismatched and still interesting to play with. At least until the new year.

Alice toddled around, undoing my neat piles. Mike and Ella helped in their own way. If you consider drawing unflattering cartoons of me then cracking up at them, helping. I did not. Jerks. Okay, funny jerks. But honestly, my eyebrows don't look like that, right?? :)

Sunday ended with a different kind of purge. I will spare you pictures, promise. The kind that wakes you up in the middle of the night to sprint to the toilet. Again. And again. And again. Oh my. Stomach flu...again. Awful. Hellish. Painful. Mike amended for his caricatures of me by staying home from work to watch the girls. Just awesome. I was unable to care for myself much less two little girls. Ugh. Slept most of the day away.

Feeling a bit better today. Just tired from being up most of the night with E. Who, you guessed it, was purging herself. Poor kid. Fingers crossed that (1) this crud is gone by Christmas and (2) Mike and Alice remain purge-free.

2010

Yes, I, like everyone else in in triathlon-blog-land, have figured out my 2010 races and goals. I emailed Jen what they were last week.

And now that there out there...I kind of like it. I am what you call "goal oriented", to say the least.

I feel pretty much lost without one. So, it is nice to have a few for 2010.

My main one for the next few months is to get ready to kick some serious Gulf Coast A$$. I love this race. Love it. Flat, fast and hot. Yes, yes and YES!

I think the early season Half IM is perfect for me. I seem to be more motivated to train hard in the cold months. Go figure. I am not burnt out yet, no nagging injuries, etc. Works for me.

Plus, as cheesy as Panama City is....that beach is so darn beautiful. I will take the Gulf any day over the skanky leech infested lakes we swim the rest of our races here in North Georgia. I did a 5:22 in 2007, let's just say, I am ready to beat that time this year. :)

I have a few more. Under 20 in the 5k (wanted that one so badly this year, but 20:09 just doesn't cut it). Under 43 in the 10k. Under 1:40 at ING Half. Hopefully, a few minutes under 1:40.

I think all of these are totally doable...once the incredible soreness from the butterfly sets in the pool (what these look like to anyone watching? i shudder to think), and the actual doing of the strength training workouts this winter (last year, i took those as a rest day) fades away.

Totally post unrelated but seasonally appropriate pictures of the girls' preschool Holiday program from yesterday.

Things to address

First on my list....Christmas cards. Duh. But, my hand hurts. (I did a bunch last night.) And chasing down all those missing addresses is so much harder than sitting here on the couch, eating Twizzlers, and watching "100 Greatest Songs of the 90s" on VH-1, while blogging.

Second? Um, yeah, the Twizzlers. It is bad. Really bad. I really should address this. Once the family size, resealable (pointless considering there is not enough down time for them to actually go stale before they are eaten) bag is consumed, I am done. Now that the training is ramping up again, there is no way Twizzlers are going to fuel me. Offseason? Sure. Not so much for the winter/spring...

(Side note--I can't believe I found Nelson (the band) attractive in high school. Or that my cousin actually went to their concert. And I was jealous. Yes, still watching the 90s songs thing on VH-1.)

Third? I've got to really get over my "I am going to throw up. No, really...I will puke" feeling that I have when I look at Annabelle's surgery site. I have to look at it. I have to check it to make sure it is okay. The vet said so. I have to empty the (gasp!) drain from the incision. (WHAT?!?) That's my job. But.....but....MOMMY!!! I want mommy! What? That's me? You sure? Ah...okay....(Belly is doing okay. Thanks for all your concern. I am just glad to have her home, scars and all.)

(So get up get, get get down 911 is a joke in yo town -- still watching...)

Fourth? Training Peaks. Oh my....this new version is killing me. I was never good at entering my workouts in before they made it IMPOSSIBLE to understand. First it crashes safari. Every time I open it. Then when I finally get in through Firefox, it is like reading a foreign language. I must sit down and address this....take the time to figure this damn thing out....after this bag of Twizzlers is finished.

"Show Me Your Belly."

Last night, post bath/and pre highly choreographed "I not tired/I don't want to go to bed/I'm hungry/thirsty" dance begins... we were hanging out in our bedroom with the clean, silly sisters.

My favorite time of day.

Dad is home. Both are going nuts. Just how I like 'em.

Ella is racing around the room winning an imaginary race. Alice is walking on her head. Then showing us her nose. "Where is your nose, Allie?" Points to her nose, then my nose, then Mike's nose...

Okay. Let's try something new.

"Where's your belly?"

"Show me your belly."

She crawls her chubby little body over to this. Twice. And pounds her on the back.


Her belly. AnnaBELLE. Whom we mostly call "Belly".

Normally, that would rate as an "Awww. That's so cute" reaction from me.

But, last night, the night before Annabelle's second cancer surgery, it broke me.

All day long today, it was like I was watching a loop of "Marley and Me", "Old Yeller" and "My Dog Skip".

My 22nd birthday present is now a 107 lb.,11 year old Golden Retriever with 2 tumors, a "foreign body" in her stomach (No clue as to what she ate this time. My $$ is on a super ball.) and a rescheduled surgery for Monday.

I have always known that she wasn't going to live forever, but the reality of her getting older,slowing down and now getting sick is tough. Tougher than I thought. But, hopefully, not tougher than Allie's Belly.

Bleh.

I am in the minority on this one.

The definite minority judging from my unscientific sample size of houses in our neighborhood already decorated for Christmas.

THEY ALL ARE....well, except for the dark, sullen, naked (as in UNdecorated naked) loser of a house pouting at the end of the street. The house wishing for orange lights, hale bales and spiders. The house yearning for gaudy, scary, stupid, silly adornment.

I curse thee....ye tasteful Christmas decorating.

White lights all a flickering, Santa Clauses waving merrily, red, green, blah, blah, BLEH....puke.

I don't like Christmas.

Yes, I said it.

Too much damn work.

I used to love it. Back when all I had to do was show up. Eat some fudge (my dad used to get Fanny Mae fudge every year to fuel our tree decorating), toss some decorations on the tree, laugh with my family, get spoiled with presents. WHO doesn't love that kind of holiday?!? Side note -- E is pretty pumped for the big day. Duh.

Now I am a lazy-Grinch-Scrooge. And completely understand why my mom looked so tired in all of our Christmas pictures from when I was little. (4 kids. She and my dad would go to Toys R Us Christmas Eve and get everything. Were you guys nuts??)

The girls' upcoming school Christmas program, my fun cookie exchange party this weekend with girlfriends, and shopping for my family (very unGrinch like of me to enjoy "doing for others" isn't it?) all should chip away at my currently green exterior.

Oh, and Christmas cards. Love 'em. Love sending 'em, getting 'em. Opening 'em and putting them on the fridge.

My icy heart is melting already.