After my wisdom-tooth entry, I emailed a copy of my picture to my mother, hoping for sympathy. It came in the form of a gift card to WalMart, which I decided was to be spent on something frivolous and luxurious for me and myself alone.

I got an espresso and cappuccino maker. It's pretty and shiny and looks good on my kitchen counter. It also has provided me with a novel new source for caffeine, which I really didn't need and probably shouldn't be allowed to have. I love it.

Picture me, calling Eric this evening at work while on my second espresso:

"Hi, Honey. I need to know what time you'll be in for dinner tonight. I gathered up a whole bunch of cans of food and I'm thinking of making a stew with some pork chops I found in the back of the freezer that were really old and freezer-burned but I didn't want to waste them and I think that if I use the tomato sauce that I found they might be tender enough to eat anyway - "

"Sweetie? How many coffees have you had?"

"Only two. It's really really really good, but for some reason I can't figure out how to keep my milk from de-frothing before I spoon it onto the coffee, but that really doesn't matter, I guess, and I bought some amaretto syrup to put in but I haven't tried it yet because I'm drinking the "Holiday Peppermint" flavor and it's good enough without any other flavoring, but I did buy you some Splenda, so you'll like that, and what time will you be home?"

"Later than I'd planned, I think."

The buzz has worn off now, thank God. I was actually beginning to feel taller, if that makes any sense; when I sat at the computer and reached for the keyboard, I actually missed the keys by a few inches. Honestly, I must have the weakest constitution in the world; just like with alcohol, it really does take only a few drinks to do me in entirely.

In the height of my caffeine-induced whirlwind, though, I signed up for Holidailies. Every day in December? Not only did I get energized, I apparently entered a whole new realm of optimism. Still, I'm a woman of my word, and I intend to stick to this little resolution. Expect most of my entries to come at the very end of the day, though, after I've managed to send Young Mister off to La-La Land.

I haven't done this sort of updating since before the boy was born. Let's see how it goes!

Thanksgiving went well. It was hard being away from my own family, but with Rita's health being what it is, we thought it best to be with her. She's been given four months to a year as an estimate from her doctors; the wide range takes into account whether or not the chemo helps any at all. With her form of cancer, the only way to get very much success is to cut, but when you're down to your last lung, that's obviously not an option. She's hoping to see the leaves turn next fall. I suppose you have to have whatever hopes you can.

Sam enjoyed his visit. He's decided that cousin Hailey is friend material, and he keeps asking for her; tonight, as he was falling asleep, he called out for her in a whisper. Consider the fact that he pronounces her name as "Hay-tie," and you've got a recipe for sugar shock. He also misses Eric's dad greatly; I think he'll be happy to see them again in a few weeks for Christmas.

Thanksgiving Day itself would have been more fun had it not been hosted, as usual, at Eric's childless aunt's house. She fancies herself a sort of Martha Stewart, which would be fine and dandy if the family weren't now inclusive of a couple of toddlers. Really, putting them in a room with a piano and a large dog and expecting calm dialogue with a little light background music isn't at all feasible; my little budding musician insisted upon climbing up on the piano bench whenever he could, tapping out songs and demanding that we all dance to his melodies. Hailey was right behind him, though her preferred activity was chasing the dog until it ran to hide.

Their behavior was by no means horrible; it was typical childhood activity. Nobody else cared a fig, and in fact the other adults seemed to enjoy the play and even turned off the football game to watch them. The aunt get more and more tense as the evening progressed, however, so I was glad when we were finally able to leave and I could stop having to hound Sam away from the keyboard.

Now that we're back, things are back to hectic. As we sat on the couch last night after getting home, surrounded by unpacked bags and the mess we left in our wake, the phone rang with a call from our realtor. She wanted to set up a showing for this morning. We were able to do a scurrying clean-up job, but what a way to come home! She's even set up an open house for our home on Sunday, but at least we have a little more breathing room before then.

I wonder when we'll ever get to really breathe again.

Keep your fingers crossed that sickness avoids our family. Sam had a little bit of a runny nose tonight, and Eric's throat feels scratchy. That's the last thing we need right now. I'm debating flu shots for us all, though I've never been tempted before now. I read an article today suggesting that there may be more flu cases this year with the FluMist vaccine that uses the live virus and has a longer shedding time in those who receive it. Scary stuff, that. Stories of children dying from the flu terrify me, but in a practical way, I'm actually more worried that we'll get the flu and will be unable to show the house, travel, or any of the other things that we very much have to do right now. Yuck.