Good news!  It is indeed possible to avoid succumbing to a stomach bug of misery and destruction, no matter how pervasive it may seem to be.  Apparently you just have to will yourself to not get sick.  Because even though the Virus of Doom felled all other human members of my  family, I managed to avoid it entirely, save for a feeling of general blah for most of the day Friday.  Score one for extreme stubbornness!! 

*****

Miss T puked twice more on Saturday, one of those times in the car on the way to my aunt’s house to celebrate Christmas.  (Of course, that was probably entirely my fault.  Word to the wise:  it probably isn’t the best idea to give a greasy tater tot to a toddler with an already iffy stomach while in a moving vehicle.  Just FYI.)  However, upon further investigation, I think that puking may have been less stomach bug-related and more four-molars-coming-in-all-at-once related.  Probably that also has a lot to do with her crankiness of late.  I’d be crabby too if I had four giant teeth attempting to make their debut all at once.

*****

Every year (well, since 2003) around this time I am reminded how much I love the movie Elf.  If you haven’t seen this, I highly recommend it.  It is hilariously funny, sweetly heartwarming and even a little romantic.  I have never been a huge fan of holiday movies but this one is so adorable I watch it whenever it comes on TV.  And given how often USA Network repeats the movies they show, I think I’ve seen it at least 3 times this month already.

If you are like me and have grandma-like sensibilities that are easily offended by toilet humor, Elf is totally safe and fun.  Will Ferrell does an awesome job of playing a very child-like Buddy the elf.  Annnnnd, that’s all I’ve got.  I was trying to think of something more enlightening to say here, but in all honesty, it is a cute little movie about a human raised by elves.  Not profound in any way but certainly entertaining and definitely worth watching if you like Will Ferrell, even just a little bit.

*****

Within the last few days it finally dawned on us (or to clarify, ME, since I can see my husband’s comment now:  “I’ve been TELLING you!  And trying to get you to write it in her baby book!  Blah blah blah told you so talkyspeak!”)  that Miss T has been saying “brother” and “bottle” for at least a couple of weeks.  And now she seems to have added “doggie”, “kitty” and possibly “mama” to her rapidly expanding repertoire.  Of course, so far “mama” has been reserved for when she really wants something.  Like the forbidden styrofoam cup placed out of reach on the kitchen counter.  Lucky for her, mama is a sucker for long eyelashes.