Introducing Arby...

I made a rash decision today and bought a Christmas tree. I wasn't really planning on it. Luke and I have been married for 3 and half years and we've never once decorated for Christmas. Why start now when you can be a Grinch forever, right? Especially since the tree would have to be guarded by armed forces 24/7 to stop Finn from tearing the thing down for his own amusement.

But I did it anyway...we've (I've) named him Arby...its short for arbol...which (I hope) is Spanish for tree! A lot of clever going on over here.

He's not really a looker, Arby. But guess what, for $20 you can't beat him. I would have taken token pictures of Finn at the tree lot, but it was pretty ghetto. The lady who owned it was walking around with a mini chainsaw in her hand (I'm not joking, people) and I thought if she ended up in the background CPS would come and take Finn away...

...sidenote, she ended up being really nice and let me take the tree home without paying for it since I forgot cash was still something people use buy things. I did go back a pay, lest the mini chainsaw end up trolling outside my apartment looking for retribution...

Anyway, the tree guarded by our couches even though Finn can climb up onto our couches and pounce on him...as of yet, they've both remained relatively unscathed. I'll give Finn an ornament and tell him to be VERY GENTLE with it over and over again, and he gets very serious about it and walks around guarding the ornament for the rest of the night. It's cute.

And while the tree may be scantily (and ghetto-ly) decorated (Wal-mart didn't have ornament hooks at 7pm so we've used fishing wire and the rope used to tie the tree to the car to hang up the decorations for the moment), he's definitely looking more spritely, especially since we put silver bows all over him...everyone wants to feel pretty :)

He's got chunks missing that I aim to fill...with love.

How Foreigners Do It...

Thanksgiving in our household is something to behold...not one of us was born in the United States so when Turkey Day rolls around we all kind of stare blankly at each other and wonder if we really need to get a whole turkey. 9 times out of 10 my mom rolls up with a rotisserie chicken and I bring 4 boxes of stuffing and we call it good. Enter Luke, the lone American. He has expectations, people! He was born and bred in the heartland! His mom made cranberry sauce! How do you even eat that with turkey?! Isn't it a dessert?!

(As you can see this whole T-Day concept excites my sensibilities)

So we rallied this year and my mom covered some roasted chickens in bacon (Amurica!) and I still brought the 4 boxes of stuffing, there was pumpkin pie (sorry, no cranberry sauce, don't push your luck)! Overall, I'm sure he was impressed. I would have asked him but I've been in and out of a food coma ever since...

And would you believe it, I even got sucked into Black Friday shopping...I know, I know, me and shopping, who'd think we'd be a good match...

...ahem...

But seriously, I saved $40 on a new camera...cha-ching! And I bought it at like, 2pm...not am. AND I didn't get pepper sprayed in the process. Total success.

And now that I have a new camera in my possession I'm using it to humiliate my little stinker. He'll thank me when he's older...and by thank I mean disdain:

Christmas slippers!...and not much else :)

In my defense he kept trying to put it back on whenever I took it off...

But it also means I can snap beauties like this:

The view from our apartment living room.

Good times, people...good times.

As for Finn: He is still loving it here, too. Every morning after he has his breakfast he goes to the closet and gets his boots out and sits on the floor, waiting for me to put them on so we can go to the park even though it's about -2 degrees outside. He's getting really, really good at sign language type communicating. He knows how to show me when something is cold or hot (I was talking to Luke about how cold it was outside and he started doing his little 'sign' for cold), and when he needs to take a nap, wants his stuffed dog and when he's thirsty or hungry (which is always). It's very clever, indeed. And a great way to avoid having to formulate, you know, actual words :)

And when you give him your cell phone he puts it to his ear and starts 'talking'...definitely affirming the fact that I talk on my phone waaaay too much.

What You Missed

Being the exciting, world-travelling, always in demand, fantastically fabulous, busily busy family that we are, this blog has been neglected, not for lack of ideas, but lack of time....and internet...we didn't have internet for a week. Because we moved. To the most exciting place that could handle people like us...Springville, Utah....yeah, maybe not.

But we're here! And because my camera is broken (aka it ran out of batteries and I can't find the charger, therefore it is broken by my standards), you'll have to use your imagination. But it looks a little something like this:

Great, huh!?

In other news, Mr. Mister (aka Finn) is settling in great. There is a playground at the complex and he totally digs the slides and can go down them sans me now. Which is a total thrill for the independent little guy. Also the library nearby has a train set that parents like to take their kids to and sit back and watch as the kids duke it gladiator-style out for the last train. It is BRUTAL. Finn got shoved and stepped on by some nasty 2 year old girl who wanted his train. I was like, "Finn, she is a GIRL! Hit her back!"...because its never too late to start encouraging misogyny, right?

Also, due to the absence of my mom being upstairs I have to work out at 6am in the morning before Luke goes to work. Which is fine because I'm a morning person if I can't sleep in and go to bed at 830pm the night before. There is a workout room in the clubhouse (yeah, we have a clubhouse, waddup) and there is always the same three people working out there every morning. I desperately want to be welcomed into their group so I can talk about 'pumping iron' and 'protein shakes' and 'calories burned' with them...you know, everyone likes to feel welcome. But unfortunately I have not broken through yet and as a result they watch me in silence as I wog slowly on the treadmill or struggle with the weights. Sigh. One day.

And for now, I'll leave you with the image of me wogging on a treadmill, which won't be getting any better because tomorrow is Thanksgiving and I aim on gaining 5 lbs on stuffing alone :)