Bullet Train

• So, there are several things we can take from NaBlogPoMo:
  • I should not participate. I completed a post every day but since then I have been actively avoiding my blog because I cannot bear to post.
  • I need a break from the children by 10pm. I looked back over my entries and in probably at least a third I am talking about how Audrey is high maintenance. She IS, but usually that doesn't bother me until late at night. I mean, I don't spend every day bitching about it. Except when I write late at night...
• We went to try to visit Santa again today. Patrick was excited. He talked it up. "Santa is at the town hall? I am going to tell him what I want. I have to think about it. Town hall, you said?" We got to the town hall. Well, back up. First I had to threaten him with getting a babysitter and taking Audrey to get him in the car. (Remember how I mentioned getting the stink blowed off? Patrick SERIOUSLY NEEDS THIS.) So we got to the town hall. He was still excited. We walked in the door. There was a very nice Christmas tree. Sitting on one side was Santa. Patrick cowered behind me. Santa seemed very friendly, however in Patrick's defense, Santa also seemed to be about 90 years old and I wondered if he was going to make it to Christmas. He also randomly had a half-inch-long thumbnail which was CREEPY. Anyway, Santa tried to get Patrick to talk to him. Patrick hid under my jacket. I asked Patrick to let go so I could get Audrey. He did not. The lady taking the picture asked Patrick if he would take a picture on the other side of the Christmas tree, opposite Santa. Patrick refused. The nice guy who was minding Santa said we could go get some cookies and milk and watch Frosty the Snowman and then maybe Patrick would want to talk to Santa. Patrick DID manage to tell Santa he wanted the remote control Molly and the wooden Cranky the Crane. Santa misunderstood and thought Patrick was telling him he was getting cranky. (Ha.) We went to go get cookies. Patrick cowered at the door. Eventually he cracked a smile at Frosty and chose a gingerbread house frame to take home. He wanted nothing to do with sitting down, having cookies and milk, or watching Frosty. He did say he would like some cookies to take home. Finally I gave up. As we were walking out, Santa had gotten up and was looking at the pictures on the walls. Patrick, who had been on one side of me closer to Santa, immediately crossed behind me to cower again. Oh well. Maybe next year.
• Dude, speaking of Santa, Christmas gifts are EXPENSIVE. Those toy manufacturers, they know their shit. Anyway, I have been saving for two months to buy Patrick the stuff he wants. I was all excited because I finally had it all. THEN he asked for Cranky. But before that, I sat down to wrap it. There are five gifts. FIVE. And one of those is for his birthday. How did this happen? How? Thomas the Tank Engine, that's how.
• I think I had more to say but apparently I can't even sustain a bullet point post.