And then Dear, Dear Internet, my very own smallish punk (Punk #2, who is not at all small compared with Ty-Guy) decided that sickly is the new pink. And guess what makes her feel best? Momma Snuggles. And I loved it, well, at least for the first 14 hours. And from here my conflict arose. Because Auntie B and Momma can not snuggle Ty-Guy AND Punk #2 at the same time. So decrees Punk #2. And she decreed it all over the house, at the top of her lungs, for hours. Finally, after copious amounts of meds, both wee little babes rested their heads. And here I sit, Dear Internet, unable to think clearly or form complete sentences; attempting to explain my absence. And writing articles about Stuffing for AC- cause it's due today and I have never missed a deadline and I won't start now.
Also, I just ordered out Christmas Cards. And they were free thanks to The Happy Housewife!
Unfortunately, I cannot find my photo CD and this was the only picture I could think of to have my Mom e-mail me. So, Internet, if you don't care for my Christmas Cards this year please try and remember: I no longer care. So decrees Momma B, aka Auntie B, aka B-Dub; who, in an unfortunate turn of events lost hearing in her left ear when Punk #2 decided enough was enough. She wanted her Momma, and her feelings were stated very clearly on the subject.
And now I must continue packing Internet, because we are supposed to leave North Carolina today. We are supposed to drive to Georgia for Thanksgiving with my Fam. And all I wanna do is cry, or sleep, or maybe hibernate. Wake me in January when we are finished moving to Tennessee. Because really, the thought of moving December 15th is scary. And I'm not sure I can do it while single handedly pulling off Christmas for the Punks. Aarrggg.