Last night I dreamed that I was the amazingly fit Cameron Diaz, but I still didn't feel good enough. Now I really have an excuse not to exercise.

Two days ago I saw a rat cross a four lane highway. It is kind of a funny story. Matt and I were driving down the highway, when suddenly Matt yelled, "Look, a rat!" "Where?" I asked. "In front of us!" he responded. And sure enough it was a rat. I couldn't believe Matt and I had just witnessed a rat leave Taco Bell and cross the highway to get to Burger King. These two fast food joints are across the highway from each other, so I imagine that this rat and many more like it, make that same treacherous journey daily. I'll know if this is the case when I start seeing overweight rat carcasses on this strip of highway. Rats may be fast, but a belly full of soft tacos and Whoppers can slow down even the best of us.

We took the kids to see Santa last weekend. The entire ordeal traumatized poor Josie. When Santa asked her what she wanted for Christmas, she replied, "I'm shy." She quietly repeated that short phrase several more times before I escorted her off of Santa's lap. Then it was Hayden's turn to sit in Santa's lap. It was at that moment that I realized just how big he has gotten.(Hayden that is) He looked like a giant sitting there with Santa. Hayden quickly rattled off his list, and of course, he named only one item that we've actually gotten him. Every day he comes up with something new that he wants, but I know he will be happy with whatever we get him. He is easy that way. Lucas sat with Santa last. We did this intentionally because like all children 2 and under, we knew that the embrace of Santa Claus would bring him to tears. And it did. As we were leaving, I could sense that Josie was in deep thought. Her hand tightened around mine, and she curiously asked, "Can Santa read minds?" I immediately knew that she was worried because she didn't tell Santa what gifts she wanted for Christmas. I didn't want her to fret, so I reassured her that, yes, Santa can read minds, and yes, he knows that you want Barbie Mariposa for Christmas. Suddenly there was a spring in her step as we made our way to the car, and at that moment I knew that I was the hero for the night.

Sickness abounds! Last week it was Josie with strep throat; this week it is Lucas with an ear infection. Next week I'm predicting will be Hayden's turn. Maybe he will come down with a flu virus on Christmas Eve-Tis the season to be snotty, oops, I mean jolly. Matt and I have stayed quite healthy this school year, although we do both fight a daily battle with migraines. So as to not suffer in vain, we like play a game called "Top My Migraine." Matt wins when he pukes from the pain, and I claim victory when my arms go numb. The victor is awarded the medal of agony; it is really quite an honor. I'm beginning to wonder if migraines are like yawns. Some days I'm completely headache free, then Matt will waltz in with a grimace on his face and proclaim, "My head is killing me." Slowly the pressure in my head begins to build. Finally I'll pronounce, "I have a headache, too." But enough with the sick talk. Let's talk GHOST. I've been a believer since I watched my first episode of Unsolved Mysteries. There were always families claiming that their homes were haunted. These seemingly ordinary people would list the many ways that the ghostly occupant was terrorizing their family. Week after week these families would recount the horrors of living with these ghostly spirits. "Why don't they just move?" I would repeat to myself. "It's not that difficult. Just pack up and boot scoot boogie out of there." But these families never did move and now I find myself in the same predicament. What predicament you ask? Well, Matt and I have been hearing footsteps. We have wood floors, so it is pretty obvious when someone is walking down the hallway. Many nights we just ignore the footsteps, but some nights Matt will peek his head out the bedroom door expecting to see a child heading to our room, but nothing. No one is ever there. Then he will walk into the kids room to check on them, and they will be sound asleep. Freaky! When this is the case, Matt comes leaping like a leprechaun back into our room, bounces onto the bed, and then pulls the covers up to his eyeballs and shivers like he just drank curdled milk. At that point I know that my bladder is in for a long night because this mama is not lowering the covers below her chin. So far, footsteps and random noises are the only sign of a ghostly presence in our home. Pretty harmless stuff I guess. I'll keep you posted on our ghostly happenings, but until then- Au revoir

Note the dirty hall-
"Canada" by Joni Mitchell performed by Matt, my talented husband