At first...

I'm like, "this is New Years!!  Gimme somma that!"

and wonder how people drink on a regular basis, 

because that's crazy bubbly!

...and then I don't care because it's SO DELICIOUS!! 

 And I feel greeeat!

So I guess what I'm trying to say is have a safe (and very happy) New Year's Eve.  Kids get crazy...even if it is only a sugar high from sparkling cider!

Gingerbread Houses & Animal Cookies

When I was younger, so were my grandparents.  Totally rude of them, I know.  Since they were "alive and kicking" then, whereas now they are "almost dead and stiff" (directly quoting them), they had the energy to host a huge gingerbread house party for our entire family every Christmas Eve.

A few years ago they called it quits (not life - just cooking and laundry) and moved into a Veteran's home an hour away.  And so ended the tradition.  Until this Christmas, anyways.

Now that our immediate family is large enough (due to my own, generous donation), my parents thought it would be fun to start that tradition up again.  Like usual, they were right.  Because tell me one person who doesn't love a sugar rushed launch into their childhood dream of becoming an architect?  You know I'm right.  And then that sugar crashed nap afterward?  Heavenly.

P.S.  I would like to point out, for honesty's sake, that I did not make a gingerbread house because I was helping Lincoln choke down more sugar than he's had in his life, all concentrated into 15 minutes (courtesy of Mrs. Claus).

The house I'm 'reppin in the last picture was made by my dad.  And isn't it beautiful?  Well...not as beautiful as the "teepee-turned-Santa Claus-hat" created by Jake (whom should love this holiday because all he needs is a green shirt, and, bam!  He's Christmas colored).

Christmas in California

While Tyson was working in Salt Lake (driven by his merciless district manager, whom deserves a high five in the face), Lincoln and I flew home to be with my family for the Christmas season.  Every time we go back to California it gets better and better because Lincoln gets older (dang him) and is able to interact and form connections with family members more easily.

When my dad would run outside to grab more wood for the fire, Lincoln would call, "Papa!?  Paaapaaaa!  Papa?"  Once my dad was back inside, Lincoln would either begin a game of hide and seek, or lead him to his tent, where Lincoln tried to pull him through the (very) small tunnel attached.  My dad's response was, "oh this is nothing, I do this for work every day!" then army crawled through a baby-sized, nylon and spiraled metal tiny hole into Lincoln's fort.

Each morning, the first thing he'd ask for was "Ann Way" while signing "aunt" so it was clear he wanted to be taken to his Aunt Ray STAT.  Lincoln loves that girl more than cheerios, and I've gotta admit, that's a hard love to beat.  When Lincoln couldn't find my mom, or just wanted her attention (so probably 95% of the time he was awake), he'd call "Meeeeiiaa!" until she'd come scoop him up for more hugs.

Lincoln drug me out of Spencer's room so they could play at 11 p.m., and he'd rope Hannah into playing on the stairs or watching The Wiggles with him every time she came home from school.  Amy, her boyfriend Jake, and McKay were all entertainers and made it possible for me to actually make a meal for Lincoln without distractions.

And I had time to just sit and watch everyone else take care of my child...except when Lincoln would catch me on the phone. I'm wondering if it will ever be possible to have a conversation without Lincoln trying to steal (and run away with) it.

5 a.m. seems logical, right? (that was rhetorical)

I've sort of been living moment to moment, trying to wrap my head around the fact I no longer have a baby, but a toddler - a buddy, a dude who regularly has deep and meaningful conversations with me...even if I don't understand anything he's saying.

And so, after staying up all night in the name of "alone time," (which is horrifying when I think about Lincoln waking up in 3 hours), I have firmly decided an attempt to re-commit.  That I should dust off my laptop and post a few highlights from the bajillion days I've been MIA to the internet world, but haven't because I've allowed (also near a bajillion) excuses to get in my way.

Is it weird my eyes literally feel as if they were burnt by mustard gas?  Probably not.  It is 5 in the morning,  ya know.  And yet here I am. Attempting a blogging "re-commitment."  Holla!!