Yeah, I’m still here. I know it has only been just over a week since I posted something, but somehow the nine billion holiday gatherings we attended has made it feel like I have slowly fell out of touch in this space. And with the landslide of new posts from other bloggers in my inbox the last two days, I guess that means the holiday blogging break is over. So…hey. Remember me? I’m that girl who blogs about stuff you sometimes read. We shared comments about wishing things away, scorned nine-year-olds at slumber parties, and most recently, being okay with the fact that your child found out you were Santa Claus. Here, maybe these super cool and tiny business cards I got for Christmas from Lone Orange Marketing Design will help jog your memory. You can even choose your favorite design:
Um, yeah Kelly. We remember you. It’s only been, like, a week. Besides, you need to be relevant first before you can be rendered irrelevant.
Oh. Okay. Cool. Then let’s get to it.
So you all may not have missed me this past week, but I did not miss me either. I had pretty legit distractions. Sure, there was the whole birth of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ thing. But more importantly, I was busy playing interior decorator and literally watching a robot vacuum my house. Uh huh. That’s what I said. A ROBOT VACUUMING MY HO– USE.
Meet Bobert, my iRobot Roomba and Christmas gift from Heaven. Yes, we named it. It only makes sense considering it has become dearer to me than the dog. And poor Scout just thought she had already been relegated to the bottom rung of our hierarchical family ladder after the turtle and goldfish.
You may not think a vacuum is the sexiest Christmas gift to receive from your spouse. But YOU GUYS! It literally vacuums for me…so I can do more important things, like write, or laundry, or play with my kids, or follow it around and watch it vacuum my house for me (which is what I have done almost every time I’ve used it so far)…or take a ride in my flying car. Because I’m basically Jane Jetson now. And let’s face, it: Jane was a pretty hot little number, by cartoon standards. Probably because she used her time to pamper herself and put George’s credit cards to good use instead of toiling away on housework. So it turns out Bobert was a pretty sexy gift after all. (My husband would want me note, for the record, that he also got me a sparkly bracelet. He once heard Kristi Lee from The Bob and Tom Show, his go-to authority on the universe, say that if you get a woman something that plugs in for Christmas, you better make sure it is accompanied by jewelry. So now I get to be blingy AND lazy. Best. Christmas.Ever.)
When I wasn’t standing around watching Bobert do its magic, I was busy transforming my daughter’s bedroom into a haven mature enough for an eight-year-old, which is arguably the most mature age of childhood. The only thing she wanted for Christmas was to redecorate her room, because apparently the color purple is synonymous with “a baby lives here.” Little did she know that the mere mention of the word “redecorate” awakens a beast inside of me. Give me a gallon of paint, a few trips to Target, and a 40% off coupon at Hobby Lobby, and I will make you a room fit for the cover of some low-budget do-it-yourself design magazine. I’m not going to lie. That little girl’s bedroom was my bitch.
So now you know how I rounded out my 2013. And this being my very first post of 2014 obviously sets the tone for the year ahead. It looks like for the next twelve months I will be resting on my laurels of a successful room makeover, and resting on my couch while Bobert sucks up dog hair.
Happy New Year!