It's Sunday night, and I'm updating because honestly, I need a few minutes to focus on something other than dealing with my cranky toddler. The holidays make everyone a little tense, I know, but it seems---just based on my own personal experience---to be especially overwhelming for two year olds. Suffice to say that I THINK she broke her record for whining today, clocking in at over a half hour straight. I had to take myself outside and count to ten, and I wish I could say it was the first time over this long holiday weekend. Honestly, I know I have said this before, but I don't know how you full time stay at home moms and dads do this. I will be so happy to see my sitter tomorrow afternoon that I may just burst into tears at the sight of her. Hopefully not, as it would probably scare her. But you get the idea.

(I hesitated to even post the above paragraph, as I feel like it makes me look like a bad mom. It seems so effortless for a lot of people, or at least not this hard. But I look at parenting the way I do writing: I'm honest about how challenging it is for me. If it's not for you, I admire you greatly. And I wish I was you. But this is me, and I'm counting to ten, whether over whining or plotting frustrations. And that's okay. I hope.)

Tantrums and meltdowns aside, it really WAS a great Christmas. We had good food and good times with all our families (except those who couldn't be around my sick husband and child: we hope to catch up with them when we are germ free, if and when that ever happens). My husband bought me a kick-ass pair of cowboy boots, so I can totally channel Tammi Taylor and Lyla Garrity, and I got some gift cards to hopefully put towards a new desktop for my office sometime soon. My daughter LOVED Christmas and we now have even more plastic stuff than before. The craziest thing, though, is that for all I (and everyone else) spent on her---tent, blocks, tons of books, play camera---her favorite toy of all was this five dollar plastic tentacle ball I got at Target. She's obsessed with it. Second best? A ninety-nine cent Slinky. Gotta love that.

Now, there's four days until 2010 begins, so I'm thinking about my resolutions. First up: healthier living. Which means no popcorn or chips before bed, and trying to cut back on the desserts and maybe the red wine. (Note: I said MAYBE.) Also, I want to do more for my dogs, who I feel have been neglected for the past two years. Just more walks, more cuddle time, more pats on the head, that kind of thing. I also want to try and spend more time with my girlfriends, because every time I do I feel SO much better about everything. It's like a tonic, I swear, and I just need to make the effort to try to set things up more often, even if does mean sitters or NASA-level scheduling. What else? I want to stop sighing loudly so much (my husband tells me I do this constantly) and maybe lose that last seven pounds of my pregnancy weight I'm still carrying around. Oh, and I'd really like to see at least five movies, in the theater, with popcorn, this year. Which would be five more than I have in the last twelve months.

That's the start of my list, anyway. I've learned not to make resolutions that are too hard to do....which is probably why that six pounds won't make the final list. I guess my resolution, as always, is really just to try and be a better person all around. That's just vague enough to work. Not specific enough? Okay, I'll try to floss more and curse less. Done!

Have a great evening, everyone!

It's the day before Christmas Eve, and I have to say that I feel like I am finally getting into the spirit. Sure, there's still a level of stress and craziness as I try to juggle everything to do and everyone we have to catch up with. Also, both my daughter and husband have come down with this wicked cold, so I am doing all I can to rally my immune system so I don't go down as well. I really thought we'd get a pass on being sick for Christmas this year, after the debacle that was last year, when we all came down with a throw-up bug on Christmas Eve. THAT was fun. If I have to pick, I'd much rather have a sniffle and a cough than that. Although not being sick at all would be, like, the best gift ever. I'm putting out extra cookies and milk for Santa in the hopes he'll deliver.

Meanwhile, last night I had two of my best girlfriends over for pigs in a blanket (tofu pups for Dana) spinach dip, pizza, wine and Love Actually. It was just what I needed to mark what I decided was the official beginning of my vacation. When you are self employed, and in the midst of a tricky novel, it's REALLY hard to just stop working, even when you know you should. And I should, because my house is so incredibly messy, and none of my gifts are wrapped, and I'm totally exhausted and surrounded by sick folk. Plus, holidays are supposed to be relaxing, right? Please say yes. Anyway, so after having two great work days in my new office---which is so great, I can't even tell you---I'm stepping back. Clocking out until at least next week, and hopefully the new year. It will be good for me, and hopefully for the book as well.

I know it will be good for my house and the clutter that is piled up everywhere. I'm about to grab a garbage bag, put my hair in a ponytail, and get down to it. But before I do, I just want to wish all of you, wherever you are and whatever you happen to believe in, the happiest and healthiest of holidays. It's been a crazy year, busy and fun and stressful (at times) but I would not change a thing. I'm so grateful for all your support, for the fact that you don't judge me too harshly for watching so much TV (hello, Jersey Shore!) and that you read this silly blog so faithfully. You are my co-workers, in a lot of ways, the folks around my water cooler, who make those sort of lonely work days so much more fun. Thank you for that. It means more than you know.

Okay, off to clean. Maybe I'll chug down an Emergen-C first, though.....

Have a great a safe holiday, everyone!

Good morning from my kitchen, where I am sitting literally four feet away from not one but TWO leftover half cakes: one amazing red velvet, and one double chocolate. And don't even get me started on the cheese straws, coffee ring, and Whole Foods chocolate cake in the fridge. Give me strength. I just got off the treadmill, but I think it might take a miracle for me not to dive headfirst into them while I drink my coffee.

Our party was great, but crazy hectic as always. This is, like, the twentieth year we've done this party, in various incarnations, and it's always changing. Used to be everyone came late and stayed later. Now, the announced time is 6 but people show up, babies in tow, as early as 5:30. Then it's total mayhem, toddlers and kids running wild while my husband and I try to be good hosts and get a huge amount of food onto the table for everyone. At eight sharp, half the room has cleared. By ten, the only ones left are our friends who are in their twenties, who probably don't even go OUT until that hour in their normal lives. I tried to rally, staying up until 12:30, then was really hating it when my daughter got up at 5:30. Whoa. All I want for Christmas is sleep, sleep and more sleep. Are you listening, Santa?

One of my favorite parts of the party, though, is the night after. That's when I get to put on my pajamas and eat leftovers, and this year we did it while watching equal opportunity television: football, followed by Love, Actually. Oh, man. Nothing like eating leftover lasagna, beans and rice and chicken casserole while watching Hugh Grant dance to the Pointer Sisters. Good times.

With the party behind us, I can move onto the actual holiday. I've done most of my shopping---although there's always a few more things to pick up---and with my office done (yay!) I can spend the time I'm not checking things off my list geeking out by labeling folders and organizing boxes. It is nerd heaven, I am telling you. All I need to do is get the internet working over there, and I'll be all set to officially move over. Although really, what I SHOULD do is not hook up the DSL, because I'd probably get a done more work done without the distractions of Twitter, and Ebay, and reading the comments on this blog. But let's be realistic here. Me with no internet is about as likely as me actually managing to resist that red velvet cake. Well intentioned, yes, but not going to happen.

Just one, small piece. A sliver! Because it's Christmas....

Have a great day, everyone!

1. Okay, so it's one week until Christmas (I know!) and get this: they're calling for snow here today. Yes: snow. Can I tell you the last time I remember it snowing before Christmas around here? That would be NEVER. (Although my memory is not reliable, just as a disclaimer. I can barely remember my name or where I left my keys most days.) Anyway, I refuse to believe this until I actually see flakes falling and sticking, mostly because we are having a huge holiday party this weekend and I have already bought all the food. What will I do with three lasagnas and a vat of spinach artichoke dip if the roads are bad and nobody shows? (Remember, this is North Carolina: if there is even an inch of snow on the roads, people stay home. Yes, I hear you laughing in New England.) Don't get me wrong. I would love a light dusting, to help get into the holiday spirit. But more than that, not so much.

2. And do you want to know WHY it's going to snow? Because about a week ago, we had a thunderstorm. And according to Southern legend, if it thunders in winter, you'll see snow within nine days. Or something like that. My parents are from New York and Baltimore, respectively: I wasn't exactly schooled in the Farmer's Almanac growing up. Still, I have found that a lot of these things turn out to be true. Like you see cows laying down before it rains. Weird, right?

3. Speaking of the holiday spirit, I can't believe that with only seven days until Christmas I have not yet indulged in one of my steadfast holiday traditions: watching Love, Actually. Usually by now I would have watched it at least three times, and have it in the DVD on standby so I can revisit my favorite scenes whenever the mood hits. What is wrong with me this year? Well, there's this move to my office. And the little issue of this novel I'm writing. Oh, and the fact that I have a two year old who is not really a fan of Hugh Grant yet. Can I tell you how many times I have watched the Gabba Gabba Christmas special? No, I can't, because I don't even know. But I will say that it is on right now, as I write this. Sigh.

4. I really do want to get to the movies over the holiday. It's hard to believe, but I used to go to the movies at least once a week, if not more than that. Seriously! I loved to skip out on a writing day and hit a midday matinee with a small buttered popcorn and a bottled water I snuck in inside my purse. Ah, memories. Can I tell you the last movie I saw in an actual movie theater? I think it was Sex and the City. Yes, that was like a year and a half ago. How did this happen? Well, again, there's that issue of the novel. It's a lot harder to play hooky when I'm paying someone else so I can work. But maybe I'll do it over the holiday, as a present to myself. We'll see.

5. Finally, I just have to share this. My husband just came inside, shivering. "It's REALLY cold out there!" he said, and I turned, ready to offer sympathy. Then I saw what he was wearing:


(Yes, I documented it just for this entry. But I cut off his head at his request.)

I mean, honestly. Shorts and a t-shirt AND shoes with no socks? Of course you're cold! Then again, this is the same person who runs the thermostat at a crazy high temperature so he can wear shorts in the house all year round. I grew up in a house where if you were cold, you put on another sweater. Touch the thermostat and there were repercussions, big time. Marriage is all about compromise, I guess. If not about wearing socks and a jacket when it's below freezing.

(Oh, and before you ask, yes, those are tattoos. He's got a bunch of them. And no, I don't have a single one. I always say he's got more than enough ink for both of us.)

Have a great weekend, everyone!

On Monday, my office passed final inspection. HOORAY! The cabinets still have to be finished, and the internet isn't up and running, but yesterday my desk got moved over, so it's all happening. (As they say in Almost Famous. I also love, "Does anyone remember laughter?" and "Your looks have become a problem!" Oh, don't get me started on quoting from that movie, I will go on all day.) I have to say, though, even though I am way excited, it's also a little daunting. The last book I wrote in my actual office was Lock and Key: Along For the Ride, and what I'm working on now, have all been done in either my daughter's room, while she slept downstairs, or our guest room. Glamourous, yes? It's like when we moved to this house from our old Durham farmhouse rental, where I wrote in a back room with brown carpet and wood paneling that resembled a cave. And I still had to write facing a wall so I wouldn't get distracted. Then we come here, where I have windows and this big airy space, and I was convinced I'd never get anything done. But I did.

That's the thing. Writing is a job you can do anywhere. Sure, it's nice to have all your creature comforts, and I think most authors have their superstitions and habits, ranging from working a certain time of day, every day (guilty) to what kind of music they listen to, or what they eat while they're writing. But if the last couple of years, and books, have taught me anything, it's that really, I don't need anything other than my laptop and time. The rest is just gravy. Nice gravy, but gravy. So even though it may be daunting to take my show on the road (or across the breezeway and up the stairs) I know eventually I will adjust. Although I might have to face the wall for awhile first.

Now that I'm starting to pack up, I'm realizing how much stuff I have accumulated in my office since we moved in here ten or so years ago. LOTS of books, mostly. Now, I know a lot of people consider books to be decor, and the more you have, the better. But I'm a big believer in passing books along to other people. If I like a book, I'll usually pass it around to my friends and family and then donate it to the library. But if I LOVE a book, I'll keep it and put it on my office shelf. It's like the best of the class, or something. Going through them this morning, you can see what I mean: lots of Anne Tyler, John Irving (three copies of A Prayer for Owen Meany, my favorite book ever) my personalized copies of novels by Lee Smith, Doris Betts and Jill McCorkle. I also have signed copies from Pat Conroy and Dave Eggers. Nice, right? Plus some of my favorite books about writing---Bird by Bird, What If, On Writing---and ones that were given to me as gifts that have personal meaning. In all, they only fill about one big bookshelf, which isn't much, I know. Then I have a smaller shelf of my own novels. It's not rooms and rooms worth of books, like the house I grew up in. But they are all mine.

Okay, I have to go pack up some more boxes. The hardest part, I swear? Not getting all caught up in the nostalgia, looking at every single thing as I pack it. I found a bunch of How to Deal lipglosses yesterday and got all misty! I am such a sap. Honestly.

Have a great day, everyone!