I'm moving to the country.

Do you ever have the urge to just shut everything down and move to the country?  I've been having that feeling a lot lately.  I think it has to do with having overcommitted myself in just about every way.  I'm supposed to be building a new law firm, training for a half marathon, serving as a board committee member for a local charity, running Junior Woman's Club, writing special blog posts for the state bar, organizing my book club, cooking dinner, and being an overall good mother and wife.  I have to admit that it all adds up to a bit too much sometimes.  But I guess the best I can do is just keep swimming.  Glad you all are out there to listen to me vent.

I feel like a terrible person mostly because I'm letting my running slide.  At first, I was all about not running for a very long time after the marathon, but now, I just feel like I'm a lazy, fat slob who has no motivation to do anything healthy.  Today, I'm drinking water and I ate a Kind Bar for lunch.  Maybe it's time to get back to MyFitnessPal, but doesn't that just add one more thing to my daily to-do list?  And let's not forget all those little things that aren't getting done like responding to Trivia Crack and Words With Friends, and Facebook posts, and blog entries, and bathing the dogs, and raking leaves, and the list goes on and on and on and on...

Sigh.

Do you guys ever feel this way?  Am I the only one who thinks cooking at home only adds to my unending list of things to do?

I want to cut back on my commitments, but how?  What do I cut?  Exercise and blogging are the first things to go, but to be honest, those are probably the only things that keep me healthy and sane, other than my sweet husband.

Or maybe perhaps I'm feeling this way because I'm just coming off of a four-day weekend during which I was constantly surrounded  by my precious children who I consider little nuggets of gold in small doses, but in large, extended doses, they seem to suck the energy right out of me.

Well, so much for that.  Back to client meetings and phone calls...

Christmas Cat Testicles

So remember how George wanted to know what cat testicles look like?  Well, our dear friend Lauren actually sent over a pair of cat testicles in formaldehyde.  Disgusting? Yes.  I still can't believe it, but it still cracks me up!  She insisted that George have them for his birthday.  So, after George celebrated turning SIX at Chuck E. Cheese (the restaurant I despise the most in this world), Lauren's husband grudgingly made a special delivery to our house.

And here they are--Cat Testicles.

I jokingly set them in front of Hobbes and sang, "Reunited and it feels so good..."

The only person even slightly amused by this was Chuck.

You think my house and my life is strange?  Yes, yes it is.  You are correct.  We are definitely the weird neighbors.  And George's teacher made sure that the cat testicles were not an appropriate show-and-tell subject.  I totally agree.

But then, when I picked up the kids from school yesterday, Luke announced, "I told my class that George got testicles for Christmas."

My eyes widened with shock before I closed them in defeat and before I could even respond, Evie asked, "Testicles or cat testicles?"  And all I could imagine is that Luke's class is wondering why George was born without testicles.

I would have spit out my drink if I had been drinking anything.  Instead I let out a nervous, embarrassed, defeated laugh.  When I could breath again, I told them all, "You really shouldn't talk about  testicles at school.  Even cat testicles. Got it?"  Oh good lord in heaven.  They are my children.

But even with cat testicles in our possession, we had a lovely Christmas.  Just look at these adorable kids!

It was Evie's year to put the star on the tree.

George and Chuck are always trying to make me swoon.

Seriously? Christmas kitty?

Two of my favorites!  All dressed up for church on Christmas Eve.

Posing before they destroyed their outfits (although I notice that G's shirt wasn't tucked in at this point).

He insisted on posing on his own.  I'm not kidding.  He insisted, and he chose this pose.

Luke also insisted and chose this pose.

Evie did not insist or want to take a picture, but after I took pictures of the boys I figured I ought to get one of her too.

And then there was Christmas Morning.  

How very blessed we are!

Especially after the hell that is known as the Barbie Dream House.

Santa was not pleased with its mocking instructions.

And I just have to throw this one in there for good measure, since they love each other so much.

Calvin and Hobbes -- spooning.

G - It's a good letter.

My Cowboys are in their second playoff game this Sunday up in Greenbay, Wisconsin, against the Packers.  A while back, George picked the Greenbay Packers as his favorite football team.  He likes that they have a great big G on their helmets.  When we told him that the Cowboys were playing the Packers, he insisted that he would root for the Packers over the Cowboys no matter what.  I feel so bad for him since the Packers are going to lose that I bought him a Greenbay shirt so he can be a real fan.  I can't wait to show it to him!