This Post Sponsored by...My Conscience

I'm not blog savvy enough to know whether the average reader can tell, but I happen to have a state-of-the-art, big-brother-ish site meter on my blog sidebar. Sitemeter tells me how many visitors I get, where they come from (Brazil and New Zealand...no kidding!) and even how long they stay. (Amazingly, some of my visitors are speed-readers!) 


 I love site meter.


 I hate site meter.


 I love it because it makes my reading audience a little less invisible (especially since many of them apparently have comment allergies....), but I hate it because when I get my weekly report and it shows I had 182 visitors last week (only 100,000 less than Pioneer Woman does per day...), any joy I might glean from knowing I had visitors is promptly squelched by the guilt of knowing that all those visits surely ended in disappointment as they came upon Nothing New. 


Oddly enough, when I occasionally do write something ...My numbers go up significantly. Probably coincidental.


 I have suggested to my (2) fans, that they go back and be re-entertained by the older posts - Some of them are funnier the 2nd time around (and all of them are funnier with a glass of wine in hand...). 


Guilt is often the vessel it takes to kick my procrastination in it's shiny hiney (why won't spell check let me spell hiney, with or without an e?) So, to my faithful readers (that means you, Grandma Lane :), here's my guilt-inspired offering - and I'm throwing in plenty of pictures as part of my penance. Click on them to enlarge. Especially this first one (see below for reason...)

This is the picture I'm sending with our Old Year's letter this year. The whole top row looks washed out - and my beautiful big girls are hidden behind that rail...Shoot, a couple of the boys aren't even smiling - But man, oh man, I look skinny. This photo was such an obvious choice to send out this year :) I'm thinking of having it made into a wall mural for our living room.

Around here, every other year Thanksgiving has to do holiday-double-duty since someone did some very poor planning in scheduling Thanksgiving and Christmas a mere 6 weeks apart. (And I have it on good authority that it wasn't Jesus, or His mother.  Bible scholars say He was born in the spring...a good 3-4 months after Thanksgiving.) My best guess is that the close holiday proximity has something to do with global warming. I hear that's to blame for quite a few of our problems so we might as well just tack this on.)


EVERYone came to our house for Thanksgiving this year, since it was the married kids year to be with their in-laws for Christmas.


And, for the first time in way too long, my sister and brother and their families also joined us. Throw in the brother's mother-in-law and the sweetest step-father on earth - and you get hospitality for 36.  No problem-o, right? .... because surely all us Mother's of Large Families are used to running their dishwashers 24/7 and restocking toilet paper on the hour.  Caring for the multitudes should be second-hand, right? 


Absolutely Not.  I survived by the skin of my weary bones. I'm usually a realist when it comes to holidays, but I spent a good deal of time battling an attitude of taken-for-grantedness. I had plenty of help, but I still worked my tail off. (I'd show you a picture, but I get enough comment spam as it is.) However (as I told my therapist when it was all over) I'd do it again in a heartbeat. It was so worth it to have everyone together in one big (clutter-strewn) house.  

Next year things will be a little different. Paper plates. Store-bought tea. Molly Maids.

                                  Grandma Story Time. 

Sophie is up for best-dressed baby of 2010. The fistfuls of white "fur" do make thumb sucking more difficult, but you really can't teach Fashion Sacrifice too early.

Because we are gluttons for punishment, my husband and I tried again this year for one of those "Our Grandchildren Adore Us" photos.


And again, we were not successful. 

I know all the grandparenting lit says not to have favorites, but if we were allowed, this next photo gives a hint as to who I'd pick. (Look at all that sweetness, still posing in the midst of all this uncooperativeness.)

After (too long) awhile, it was time to call in the Big Guns/aka parents for reinforcement..... which did not help one iota.

Thanks to the crop feature, we did get one acceptable photo.

Our oldest children,  affectionately known as the OK's (because the jury's still out on the younger ones, but we feel pretty good about these first six....Or because OK stands for older kids. Your choice.)

Mary-Faith with baby Sophie.

Winston with baby Sophie

Molly with baby Sophie (a very popular subject...)

Sophie with her family (who must have told her a funny joke right before this was taken...)

And how 'bout I end this post with some pictures of exceptionally cute guys? As part of the penance and all....

(Does he look like he's just glad to have it over with? ...)

Until next time (and I'd like to think it will be soon...),

Debbie