Monday, January 28, 2008
Every year Hunter's school participates in the Reflections contest hosted by the PTA. The kids are given a topic and are to create something that falls under that specific theme. Kids can submit art in any of the following six areas: literature, musical composition, photography, visual arts, dance choreography, and film/video production. This year the theme was "I can make a difference by. . . ." Long before the contest began Hunter had composed his very first song on the piano, a very catchy little tune that all of us were caught humming at one time or another. When the Reflections contest came up, both Mark and I suggested he write some lyrics to his little composition and submit it. The night before his project was due and terribly sick with Strep Throat, he and Mark stayed up until midnight recording his song and getting it ready to submit, complete with sheet music and a c.d. recording of the music and Hunter singing. It was a huge undertaking and Hunter was in tears by the time it was over. However, when everything was finally complete, Hunter had one amazing piece of music to submit. Here, listen for yourself:
A Difference by Hunter Henrichsen
 Anyway, this past Friday morning the entire family headed up to the school at 7:30am for the Reflections breakfast and the judge's decisions. We were all pretty excited and confident that Hunter had done well. While we were waiting for the program to begin, Mark ran into the mother of a student he used to teach piano to. They chatted for awhile and then she announced to Mark that her daughter had won first place for the musical composition and that the school had called her to make sure that she would be there for the awards ceremony. Mark and I were both very disappointed because, of course, we were certain Hunter had won first place. Anyway, the ceremony began and Hunter received Honorable Mention for his submission and received a ribbon and a certificate for his efforts. He was bummed to find out he wouldn't be going to Nationals but seemed proud of his Honorable Mention and even wore his ribbon to class, anxious to share the news with his classmates.
As Mark and I were leaving the mother over the Reflections contest caught us and shared with us that the judge, a music teacher at another school, had been terribly torn over Vandy's and Hunter's compositions and had deliberated for a very long time before he finally made his decision. She said we should be very proud and that Hunter had done an awesome job. We shared this with Hunter and he seemed satisfied with everything. Later that night, when he said his prayers he said, "And thank thee that I could technically win first place in the Reflections contest. . . " and then he asked once again if that meant he would get to go to Nationals.
Unfortunately Hunter, no matter what we do, you won't be going to Nationals. But this much I know, you earned Grand Prize in my eyes and your Daddy's and next year, we're taking it all the way, Baby. Watch out Vandy--here we come!
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Saturday, January 26, 2008
 I just finished your third book in the Twilight Series, Eclipse. It was absolutely, positively addicting and simply delicious. Of course, that's no surprise considering so were the other two books in the series. I couldn't put it down. Luckily, one of the babies was sick this past Sunday and I got to spend the entire day holding him and reading my book. The laundry piled up, the dishes went undone, the kids were clawing at me from all sides, I was sleep deprived, the house started crumbling and my husband barely recognized me when I finally came up for air. But it was totally worth it. That is until the depression settled in. Now what? What am I going to do for another eight months until Breaking Dawn is released? Really this can't be healthy. Which brings me to the reason for this letter. I have a small favor to ask of you.
I know you are in the process of writing another book and I'm glad, really I am. I think you are a very gifted writer. And really I love your books. I more than love your books. I lust your books. I'm totally addicted to them. I think about Edward and Jacob and Bella all the time. I wish vampires and werewolves were real and occassionally I catch myself thinking maybe they are. Your writing has a way of sucking us readers into a whole new world and try as we may to escape, we simply cannot, at least not until the last page is read. And even then we're not really free because we're addicted and we need that next book, like a druggie needs their next high. I'm not the only one that feels this way because I've talked to several other women who have read your books. We're all the same. Life as we know it stops when we read your books. Our homes suffer. Our children suffer. Our husbands suffer. Nothing is more important than Edward and Bella and everything takes a back burner. And when we're finally done reading it takes us weeks to dig our way out of the mountains of laundry and scrape the dried-on, crusty leftovers off the dishes and satisfy our children's desperate need for attention.
Anyway, so about this next book--I was just hoping that maybe you could wrap things up. You know, get Bella and Edward hitched, give us all that steamy honeymoon we've been waiting for and turn Bella into a vampire. And then just end it there. You know, we don't need Bella getting pregnant or the Volturi stopping by for another visit. And we don't really want Jacob messing things up between Edward and Bella so you could probably leave him out for the most part, unless you want him to imprint like maybe on Bella's daughter, (I mean if you have to get her pregnant and all that) but you really could just leave Jacob where you left him in Eclipse, you know, just let him keep running. And we don't need anymore stressful run-ins with newborn vampires or even old ones for that matter. We just want Edward and Bella together, two vampires living happily ever after. And then, I promise, you can start up another series about whatever you'd like and I won't read it. I'll walk away and I swear I'll never look back.
I realize that I'm asking a lot. I know you could make a ton of money by stretching this series out as long as possible. Can you say J.K. Rowling? But if you have any sympathy for us young mothers you would see that ending this series is the kindest thing you could possibly do for all of us. This waiting, not knowing, it's just plain torture! Please put us all out of our misery as soon as possible, that's all I'm asking for--just a little sympathy, just a little closure, just a simple wedding and a transformation. Thanks for understanding and of course, best of luck on this next book.
Sincerely,
Shana Henrichsen
P.S. After looking at your website and seeing your preview of The Host and Midnight Sun I realize this letter is pointless and my family may as well just get used to my periods of irresponsibility and neglect. I simply cannot help myself. Hello, my name is Shana and I am an addict.
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Friday, January 25, 2008
So just before Thanksgiving Mark went to the doctor and received some not-so-good news. His diabetes was out of control and I think it scared him quite a bit. I mean, dealing with me on a day-to-day basis is rough but dying at 35 is harsher. So he and the doctor decided to take some drastic measures and Mark started the Atkin's diet. I was a little doubtful because I've heard Atkin's is almost as harsh as death (at least it would be for me, the carb addict queen) and Mark has struggled with dieting in the past. But his mom gave it a whirl this past year and lost so much weight, I think it gave Mark some hope that he could do it too. So just days before Thanksgiving Mark started his new carb-free lifestyle. Two months later you will hardly believe your eyes. He's gone from this (his shirt bulging at the buttons):
to this (two pant sizes smaller):
Amazing, isn't it? He has been so good, only taking a break on Thanksgiving and Christmas. He's exercising regularly, his diabetes is in good control, he's down more than twenty pounds, and my biggest worry now is the line of women outside my door hoping for a chance to get with the new man. It's shocking to hear what women are saying about my husband--I always thought he was extremely handsome but now I have a whole lot of competition going on and I'm a little bit worried I don't have what it takes anymore. I always wanted to be the one that men drooled over but it looks like Mark's earned all the drool this time and he totally deserves it, don't you think? Keep up the good work my "not so chubby hubby." I love you!
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Sunday, January 20, 2008
So the other day I had this nasty craving for some homemade chocolate pudding. I like it homemade versus "out of a box" and I like to eat it warm. That way it's just like eating hot fudge straight out of the jar. Anyway, shortly after I made up a couple of batches (because Noah hates chocolate and I can't live without it I had to make vanilla and chocolate) Mark said one of the twins looked like they wanted to finger paint. And that reminded me of when I used to let the big boys paint with pudding way back when--when I was young and energetic and motherhood was fresh and new and ideas like this came to me much more readily. So the other day I thought, "Hey, we have a bunch of leftover vanilla pudding. I'll let the babies finger paint." Clearly, they had a blast and by the end they looked like they'd been mud wrestling.
 
Of course I probably should have just given them the pudding in the bowl because they weren't really painting so much as trying to get as much possible from the paper to their mouths. Everytime I tried shooting a picture of them painting all I got was a picture of them eating. Oh well, like I always say, at least it was one hour that they weren't sitting in front of the TV and anytime I can get them away from the television is a good time.
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Saturday, January 19, 2008
You know how on those cell phone commercials they always have the teenagers talking in abbreviations like B.F.F. (Best Friends Forever) and I.D.K (I don't know)? That's how Hunter talks to us nowadays. It's either that or he gives us some complicated math equation to tell us what his blood sugar is--something like 38 below 187 plus 12 or 46 below what I was three days ago at noon. So it is in his honor that the title of this blog has been abbreviated. And for those of you who are still struggling to unscramble the riddle--Hunter turned Nine Years Old on Tuesday.
It was weird waking up on Tuesday and realizing that I had a nine year old. Probably because it doesn't feel like that long ago that I was that nine. I remember eight like it was yesterday. That's when I learned the truth about Santa (my mom told me and I cried myself to sleep because I was still a serious believer), how babies are made (Ewww, gross!) and I received my first offer of marriage (Justin V.) I had two best friends--Molly Mills and Amy McShane. I couldn't understand what the difference between a cursive "q" and a cursive "g" was. And that's when I learned my first dirty joke. All of the sudden Hunter didn't seem so little anymore. He's growing up and I'm getting old and for some reason his birthday seemed so much bigger than the rest.
Hunter's so much different than me when I was nine. He still believes in Santa and the Tooth Fairy and even Leprechauns for that matter. And I have yet to teach him about "the Birds and the Bees." I think the fact that he still believes in Santa makes it really hard to teach him about vaginas and sperms and sex. I think I'll save that for another birthday or two. And instead of barbies, Hunter is into Lego Mission Mars and his new Nintendo DS Lite and all computer games. He has one B.F.F. Christian and when they are together they talk about baseball and computer games and religion of all things. Just the other day Christian was quizzing us on the Ten Commandments and Hunter begs me on a regular basis to let him give Christian a Book of Mormon. (Don't worry, the missionaries have already delivered one to his parents and Christian informed us yesterday that his mother is probably going to sell it.) They are a funny pair those two but Hunter loves Christian and I'm certain he'd never survive Ms. T if he didn't have Christian to look forward to everyday.
Hunter loves his second grade teacher like I loved my fourth grade teacher. I didn't realize how much so until yesterday when I was up at the school for Hunter's birthday celebration. He requested sugar-free Jello jigglers (why he didn't ask for cupcakes or cookies beats the heck out of me) and that we donate the newest Magic Treehouse book to the class library. So that's what we did and afterwards Ms. T asked Hunter if he needed a minute and he nodded immediately, scooped up the tray of jigglers and headed out of the classroom. "Where are we going?" I questioned him. "I've got to give Ms. K a jiggler and also Ms. O," came his reply. He delivered the first to his gym teacher and then headed down the second grade hallway to find Mrs. O. Just his luck, Mrs. O was walking right towards us and Hunter said, "Just the person I was looking for!" I thought his head was going to burst off his shoulders he was so proud and excited to see her. When she seemed surprised that he'd remember to bring her a treat, Hunter said, "How could I ever forget you?" It was really moving to see their little relationship and to realize that he's really growing up and building relationships and finding people who really love him outside the home. I couldn't have picked a better person for him to fall in love with myself.
Anyway for Hunter's birthday I practically killed myself trying to pull together a birthday celebration good enough to meet Hunter's expectations. There were four very important criteria I had to meet. First, everyone in our neighborhood had to know it was his birthday. Second, he had to have Marble Cake. Third, he wanted Swedish pancakes for dinner. And fourth, presents. So I dragged the three babies to the grocery store and Party City to pick up candles and balloons and strawberries. And I sacrificed the babies naptime and my shower to make his cake and make a dozen banners to hang all over the outside of the house and wrap his presents. Mark went to extremes to find a red DS Lite for Hunter. And I'm not sure how I managed it, but we had Swedish pancakes for dinner. Hunter seemed pleased with the results and even though I thought for sure I was going to die of exhaustion, I can't think of anyone more worth it. In his nine little years Hunter has had to battle more than his fair share of challenges. And certainly, his life isn't going to get any easier. But Hunter continues to walk tall, confident, happy, untouched by the difficulties, unafraid of the future, optimistic, a spiritual giant, an example to us all. There's so much more I wish I could give him and do for him and be for him that just seems impossible right now. And if I could give him the moon I most certainly would. But since I can't, hopefully the marble cake and the balloons will do for now. I love you Hunter. H.B.N.Y.O.
 
 
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Thursday, January 17, 2008
We had Barry Bear again this weekend. I sort of hate it when these guys come home with Denver because that means I can't let my kids play Nintendo all weekend while I ignore them. We actually have to do something worthy of writing in Barry's (or Barbara's) journal. It doesn't help that this weekend I was down with a major bladder infection and the only thing I really wanted to do was rip my urinary tract out of my body and flush it down the toilet. But we hit Build-A-Bear Workshop anyway and purchased a couple of teddy bear backpacks (which Denver has been begging for since Thanksgiving) and then spent a good part of Sunday morning making miniature school supplies to fill the packs with. I must admit everything turned out rather cute and I didn't feel so bad on Monday when he packed up the bear and his journal and headed back to school.
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Monday, January 14, 2008
This is one of my favorite presents that I got for Christmas. Kak got it for us. It's on the back of the Suburban and I'm certain it is so cute it's going to cause a car accident, especially when the people behind us are worrying more about how many kids we have than our brake lights.
And this is one of my favorite pictures from Christmas. Caleb was so sick while we were in Ohio but he sure did perk up when he opened this present from Uncle Michael. And he loved it so much, he fell asleep snuggling it. I wonder what he'll do to it when we finally put it together and he gets to paint it.
And one of my favorite quotes from Christmas was on our drive home from Ohio, not too long after we stopped in New Jersey. It was Christmas Eve and all of the kids had Santa on their minds. Then out of the blue Noah said, "You can even get lice in your beard, huh Mommy?" Of all the things to think about when you're dreaming of Santa's arrival. Noah is so silly.
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Saturday, January 12, 2008
 Last night we attended Hunter's cub scout pack meeting. Hunter has been working especially hard lately to earn his Wolf Badge and I'm happy to inform you that he did it! We're so proud of you Hunter! Keep up the good work.
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Friday, January 11, 2008
The other day I was sorting through our home videos looking for a video I'd promised to show Kak while she was here. I found that video but unfortunately for you, I'm not allowed to share it with anyone else. It's embarassing to Denver. But while I was sorting through the videos I came across this one and I thought it was especially cute. I filmed it the day Denver did this to his hair.
Click Here for Video
Anyway, that got me thinking about spikes and how much I miss having them around. That was the last time Denver really let me spike his hair and although I've tried spiking Caleb's hair it just doesn't look the same on him.
Anyway, ever since finding the video on Sunday I've been thinking a lot about spikes and I finally decided on Tuesday to try out the twins' hair. And since I really don't have the heart to cut their hair yet, this is my new solution. What do you think? Yeah. . . I like it too.
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Thursday, January 10, 2008
I just recently went on an anti-depressant. It's not the first time. Not too long after Denver was born I became severely depressed and even suicidal. I knew exactly how I was going to kill myself and there is no doubt, if I had actually gone through with my plan, both Mark and the kids would have found me in the morning, dead. The thought still haunts me. Mark was beside himself--he didn't know how to help me. And I really didn't know how to help myself. I was miserable and death sounded sweeter than life at that point. Eventually I got my guts up to ask my doctor for help and a couple of pills later I was back from the living dead. It was nothing short of a miracle. A few months later I decided I no longer needed the pill and have been fine until just now.
I started feeling it again in October. But I thought it would just go away. Afterall, I'm prone to a little depression every now and then and it usually does just pass. And this time I didn't feel so depressed as just "off." Really off. Something felt wrong and it was affecting my ability to cope with every day life. That's when I started to worry. I definitely didn't want to go back to being suicidal but I was quickly headed in that direction. But I wasn't sure if I really needed a pill--I wasn't convinced I was really depressed so much as in permanent PMS mode with a vengeance. And I've always felt that by taking that pill I'm admitting defeat, that I'm weak, that I can't do everything. And I'm definitely a perfectionist and there's something not so perfect about taking an anti-depressant. And I guess my underlying beliefs about anti-depressants were making it very difficult to swallow that teeny-tiny, little blue pill.
Anyway, I've been on it a week now. Kathy finally convinced me it was a good idea, at least until the weather warmed up and I could get outside again. This time I was afraid it wasn't working. Last time I had a quicker response. But finally, today, I can feel it working. I can't hear all those voices in my head telling me what an awful, failure of a person I am and that no one could ever possibly love me. Today there is quiet and the world doesn't feel like it's crashing down around me. And for now there couldn't be anything more perfect than that.
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Wednesday, January 09, 2008
One thing I am constantly worried about is whether or not my children are getting enough love and attention. I grew up with seven siblings and I don't know if we didn't get enough attention or if we're especially greedy in that department, but we still fight over our parents' attention today. So I suppose I'm overly concerned about my own children and how I can possibly give all six of them all of the loving they need to grow up happy and healthy. Anyway, in the last week I've managed to snap these three pictures and all of the sudden I get it. My kids aren't deprived because there are so many of them but rather they are blessed. Rather than only having two parents to love them they have two parents and five other siblings to love and care for their every need. And that's a really good thing, not a bad thing. And even though I know I'm still going to worry about giving my children enough, at least today I know all four of those boys have been snuggled in the past week and nothing could be sweeter than knowing it's because they have each other.
 
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Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Last week Denver came home from school, handed me a folded up piece of paper, and said, "Look what Lexi gave me." He sounded a little disturbed so I hurried over and took a look. Here, have a look for yourself. . . .
And yesterday when he came home from school he showed me another piece of paper, only this time it was in the shape of a heart with "Lexi" and a heart printed right in the middle. Yeah. . . she's totally smitten. Of course, Denver isn't completely disinterested. Yesterday as we were getting ready to leave for school, Mark pointed out a bus to Caleb who was sitting at the window watching everyone walk to school. Denver's immediate response was, "Is it bus 87? That's Lexi's bus!"
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Monday, January 07, 2008
Since Christmas we've had three kids with ear infections and two with Strep Throat. I have a feeling the one healthy kid left (Denver) will be counted with the Strep Throat victims in a matter of days. And all I have to say about all of this is. . . let Germfest 2008 begin! Oh. . . and y'all should probably stay very far away for at least until March. That's when we tend to miraculously heal and grow immune systems again.
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Sunday, January 06, 2008
For Christmas Kathy got two tickets to see Wicked in New York City and I was lucky enough to get invited to go with her. Yeah, I'm totally spoiled. So Mark watched the kids and away we went to the Big Apple. Kathy took me to Ellen's Stardust Diner where all the Broadway wannabes sing for you while you eat your burgers and fries. Kak had a burger and I had chicken parmigiana and then we stuffed ourselves the rest of the way with chocolate chip cheesecake and chocolate malts.
After dinner we hit a coule of cheesy New York City souvenir shops, snapped a couple of ridiculous photos, walked through the M&M shop, a gourmet popcorn store (um. . . hello Country Smokehouse Cheddar and White Cheddar and Black Peppercorn -popcorn. . . I love you), and Toys R Us in Times Square. I grabbed me some Welch's grape soda and Kak grabbed some sugared nuts (only because there were no hot dog stands open--it was too cold) and then we hurried our frozen little selves back to the Gershwin Theatre for the show.
This is us being just plain ridiculous. We were trying to get a photo of the Wicked billboard behind us in Times Square. You'll notice we were successful in the above photo and not so much in this next one.
Anyway, the show was fabulous and I had so much fun. After the show we hit Starbucks for some cider (with whip cream--I know. Sounds gross but tastes heavenly.) Then we picked up the car and headed home. I have a feeling that will be my last big outing for awhile and I'm sort of bummed. Between all the movies I've gone to see and my trip to NY and the books I've been reading and all the eating out I've been doing, I've hardly felt like the mother I'm supposed to be. It's been sort of nice.
Kathy left today and I'm totally gonna miss her. When I'm with her I feel like such a geek. She's cool, she's stylish, she's talented, she's fun, she's smart, she's young. I feel so old and out-of-date and uncool when she's here. But despite all of that, we seem to get each other in so many ways. And it's nice to have someone like that, that just understands you for you and loves you despite all the blah parts--no strings attached. And she loves my boys, completely and they love her. Can you tell? Denver was especially attatched this trip and today while he was in the bath he asked why he had to be a Henrichsen and if there was anyway he could be a Stout, like Kak. We're glad she came and shared Guitar Hero with us and kept us fueled up on Dunkin Donuts hot chocolate and played and partied and played some more. Thanks for all of the fun Kak and of course, you're welcome back anytime. All eight of us would love to have you.
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Saturday, January 05, 2008
 This summer I read this book called The Road (by Cormac McCarthy) which is basically about a father and his son who have survived the end of the world and are searching, hoping, to find some sign of life, something left surviving of the world before it died. It's dark. It's cold. There's no food. There's no safety. There are people who want to eat them. It's scary. It's terrifying. It seems hopeless. And yet they continue, every day, to endure. I had nightmares from that book for months. And it still haunts me today, almost six months later. I don't know if I could endure such terror, especially with children. And that's when I started questioning myself, my hope, my faith. Could I endure it? Was my hope, my faith, strong enough to face the test of hopelessness? And could I watch my children live in horror day in, day out, freezing, starving, lost? As a Christian I've been taught to have hope in Christ. Afterall, I believe He is over all and that everything happens for His divine purpose. There's a reason for everything, right? And He surely wouldn't give me a test bigger than I could endure. But then I wonder would hope be enough? Maybe it would be better to end it all--for my children, for myself? It was just a matter of time before the monsters got them and killed them anyway, right? Wouldn't it be better to let them go peacefully in their sleep, than have them caged and tortured and killed? And wouldn't God forgive me? I wouldn't be killing them out of hatred or malice but out of mercy and compassion and love. Would a God of love and mercy damn me forever for that? But then again, does that show lack of faith in God and His plan and purpose? It's not really my choice to decide what my kids can or cannot endure, right? Even six months after reading that book, the debate rages in my mind. I'm not sure I could do either--watch my children live in fear or end the fear for them.
 Then this week Kathy watched the kids for us, so Mark and I could go see a movie. Everyone told us we should go see I Am Legend and so we did. I knew it was going to be a little intense and a little scary, but I figured I could handle it. Well, it was a lot scary and a lot intense and I sat through the entire film with my ears covered and one eye shut. Call me a whimp, you are probably right. The lone survivor at the end of the human race and rabid vampire-like things longing to drink my blood for their midnight snack is not something I think I'd want to endure. And definitely not something I'd want to endure with children. And again, I was faced with the question: let them live, no matter how terrifying, or end their lives with the hope that there would be something better waiting for them in the next life. Of course, in I Am Legend there is still some glimmer of hope. They still have the daylight. And they have food. And there is life--trees, water, animals, clean air to breathe. And there is a woman who believes there is a safe place, that there is hope and that God hasn't forsaken them. But there is still terror, and lots of it.
Anyway, I'm just wondering what your choice would be if it were you. And the prerequisite, before you answer, is that you read The Road (don't worry, it's a quick read) and that you go and see I Am Legend. If you had six small children and the world had been lost and monsters were thriving and it was your blood they were thriving on, and the sun no longer shone, and food was scarce and each day was filled with terror and hopelessness, would you be able to carry on? Would you be able to watch your children endure the horror life had become? I still don't know. I suppose in both the book and the movie the characters all find something to hope for, enough of something that it drives them on, despite the fear. And I would like to believe that despite the horridness of any situation, my hope in Christ and His ever-knowing hand, would carry me and my little family forward til the bitter (or the sweet) end. But I'm afraid, when it really came down to the test, that my lack of bravery would outwin my hope and that I would fail completely.
 Personally I'd much rather believe that those kind of things will never happen and that everything will turn out as wonderful as it does in P.S. I Love You--my new favoritest movie ever. Because see, her life isn't without challenges, but she most certainly doesn't have to worry about things like cannibalism or monsters. Go see that one after you're all scared and traumatized by my other two reccommendations. You'll be glad you did.
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Friday, January 04, 2008
 I finished book two tonight and the kitchen floor is barely visible beneath all the gunk, the kitchen sink is overflowing with dishes, the fridge is bare, the family room is a danger zone, the toilets are getting fuzzy, I'm a week past due on the bills and I'm pretty sure if Caleb sees me pull out book three tomorrow, he'll die of a heart attack. I don't know. Should I take the day off and put the house back in order or should I just dive into book three this weekend and start fresh on Monday? Now that I know Edward is alive and he and Bella are together again maybe, just maybe, I can wait until next week for book three.
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Thursday, January 03, 2008
Over Christmas, my mom and Kathy rolled into town and Chris, Melanie, Meg and I joined them for a night out. We went to Bertuccis and then hit Mom's hotel conference room for some board games. I don't think I've laughed so hard in awhile and although it hurt, it felt really good too. Between Bertuccis and the hotel Kathy and I hit Dunkin' Donuts for some hot chocolate for everyone, Dad's treat. We pulled up to the drive thru, rain pouring through the windows and I requested a box of hot chocolate.
The kid behind the intercom informed us that they don't sell boxes of hot chocolate, just boxes of Joe. "Why not?" came our reply.
"Because we don't sell a box of hot chocolate, just a box of coffee and that's a box of Joe."
For obvious reasons we didn't trouble the kid anymore but seriously, is it that hard to fill a box of Joe with hot chocolate rather than with coffee? I suppose making six individual cups is much easier.
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Wednesday, January 02, 2008
 Edward is going to come back and bite Bella just enough to turn her into a vampire and that everyone is going to live happily ever after. But I'll kill you if you dare ruin the ending for me.
This is why I don't read books when I'm a mother. It's way too distracting. I was up until two this morning reading. Then I dreamt about the blasted book all night long and woke up at the crack of dawn, no wait. . . the sun wasn't even up yet, just so I could squeeze one more chapter in before I had to get the kids ready for school. I don't want to do anything but read and I have so much more to be doing than reading. Good thing I only have like eight hundred pages left to go. . . just eight hundred measley pages until I'm finished with this stinkin' Twilight series and I can get back to normal life.
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