She lived to see Christmas and get her presents from Sandy Paws. Believe me, for a while, it was anybody's guess who would make it to the finish line...me or her.
And truth be told, we haven't crossed the line...yet.
See that precious adorable face? That is the face of a killer.
Yep. Seems little darling Angel girl has decided to suddenly go through a "seek and destroy" phase...but she's selective about it. (And unless I'm paranoid, it's only things that I've touched. Explain this to me.)
Where to start? Okay, two weeks ago, I'd gone through all the presents, gotten everything wrapped and bows attached and looking lovely. Gifts for the parents and family members to be sent off (*cough* those same packages that sit under my tree as we speak *cough, cough*). It looked so lovely to see presents under the tree.
And I got out Santa. About 3 years ago, my Mom and Step-Dad bought me a beautiful Santa for Christmas. He's about 2 feet tall and all in cream colors. Beautiful robe and hat, white beard and a face that I just love. He's just beautiful. I love getting him and my Angel out. (Some years, I don't put the Angel on the tree, but I put her and Santa together with a light up christmas (glass block) box and they look lovely in the light...but I digress.)
I take care to fluff and fix their costumes, make sure they look good and have survived a year of waiting to come out to play. Before I set Santa to stand by the tree (my lovely white tree, of which I'll have to post a picture), I scared Darla with him. I shook him, made loud sounds and fast movements and told her to leave him alone. She didn't want anything to do with him. Two nights later, I came home from work to find wrapping paper all over the living room rug.
Oh.&hit! What did she do? What did she destroy? There wasn't a piece (truthfully) that was bigger or longer than 1/8 of an inch!
The object of her wrath? A small Wonder Woman action figure we'd picked up for my Step-Mom (whom I love) as an inside joke gift. (I'll have to explain that later.) But the fact that it took us 2 years to find said figurine, I was not happy. To put it mildly.
I repeated the scaring technique with the gifts under the tree. And I ignored her for a while. She kept trying to suck up to mek, but I was having none of it. I was mad, and this was not acceptable.
Okay, so all was fine.
Until.....Thursday. Just a couple of days ago, Thursday. The 20th of December.
I got home from work, excited because my boy would be home to spend the evening together AND it was my last day of work until after the first of the year (I'm on vacation!). I was greeted with a hug, kiss and an offer of dinner out. (YES!)
Before we go, DH points at the tree and I look and there is a beautiful new Santa Claus in bronze robes with a bird cage and garland. HOW BEAUTIFUL! Oh, I love it! And he'll look so sharp standing next to the cream Santa. Oh honey!
And then this look came over DH's face. Seems that the bug in Darla's ass twitched and she went on a bender and d.e.s.t.r.o.y.e.d. my Santa. From the time I left for work (7:30) to the time DH got home for morning break (10:30), it was over. I did not see any signs of the carnage, nor the body for identification...I'll keep my memories happy thank.you.very.much.
Daddy was not happy, to put it mildly and D (one of her many knicknames) had to spend the day, until he was done with school, in the laundry room. Pass, thanks. So the bronze Santa was the replacement. But he is beautiful. (I did sneak out Friday to Bombay Company, where the original was purchased and got another cream robed Santa to keep him company...and they look lovely, on their elevated perch by the tree.)
Let me tell you something, zoloft and a couple of El Presidente margaritas at Chili's is a great combination! ;)
So, D is no longer allowed free roam of the house without supervision and does get closed up until she proves she can stay out of trouble. (Because Boo Hahn is quick to point out that she had nothing whatsoever to do with any of it.)
Yep, it was a bit of a gamble if she'd make it to the 25th...but she did. Now it's just another couple of months until she's one and then we'll be thatmuch closer to 2 and when they calm down.
I can make it. I can make it. I can make it. My new mantra...I can make it.
And truth be told, we haven't crossed the line...yet.
See that precious adorable face? That is the face of a killer.
Yep. Seems little darling Angel girl has decided to suddenly go through a "seek and destroy" phase...but she's selective about it. (And unless I'm paranoid, it's only things that I've touched. Explain this to me.)
Where to start? Okay, two weeks ago, I'd gone through all the presents, gotten everything wrapped and bows attached and looking lovely. Gifts for the parents and family members to be sent off (*cough* those same packages that sit under my tree as we speak *cough, cough*). It looked so lovely to see presents under the tree.
And I got out Santa. About 3 years ago, my Mom and Step-Dad bought me a beautiful Santa for Christmas. He's about 2 feet tall and all in cream colors. Beautiful robe and hat, white beard and a face that I just love. He's just beautiful. I love getting him and my Angel out. (Some years, I don't put the Angel on the tree, but I put her and Santa together with a light up christmas (glass block) box and they look lovely in the light...but I digress.)
I take care to fluff and fix their costumes, make sure they look good and have survived a year of waiting to come out to play. Before I set Santa to stand by the tree (my lovely white tree, of which I'll have to post a picture), I scared Darla with him. I shook him, made loud sounds and fast movements and told her to leave him alone. She didn't want anything to do with him. Two nights later, I came home from work to find wrapping paper all over the living room rug.
Oh.&hit! What did she do? What did she destroy? There wasn't a piece (truthfully) that was bigger or longer than 1/8 of an inch!
The object of her wrath? A small Wonder Woman action figure we'd picked up for my Step-Mom (whom I love) as an inside joke gift. (I'll have to explain that later.) But the fact that it took us 2 years to find said figurine, I was not happy. To put it mildly.
I repeated the scaring technique with the gifts under the tree. And I ignored her for a while. She kept trying to suck up to mek, but I was having none of it. I was mad, and this was not acceptable.
Okay, so all was fine.
Until.....Thursday. Just a couple of days ago, Thursday. The 20th of December.
I got home from work, excited because my boy would be home to spend the evening together AND it was my last day of work until after the first of the year (I'm on vacation!). I was greeted with a hug, kiss and an offer of dinner out. (YES!)
Before we go, DH points at the tree and I look and there is a beautiful new Santa Claus in bronze robes with a bird cage and garland. HOW BEAUTIFUL! Oh, I love it! And he'll look so sharp standing next to the cream Santa. Oh honey!
And then this look came over DH's face. Seems that the bug in Darla's ass twitched and she went on a bender and d.e.s.t.r.o.y.e.d. my Santa. From the time I left for work (7:30) to the time DH got home for morning break (10:30), it was over. I did not see any signs of the carnage, nor the body for identification...I'll keep my memories happy thank.you.very.much.
Daddy was not happy, to put it mildly and D (one of her many knicknames) had to spend the day, until he was done with school, in the laundry room. Pass, thanks. So the bronze Santa was the replacement. But he is beautiful. (I did sneak out Friday to Bombay Company, where the original was purchased and got another cream robed Santa to keep him company...and they look lovely, on their elevated perch by the tree.)
Let me tell you something, zoloft and a couple of El Presidente margaritas at Chili's is a great combination! ;)
So, D is no longer allowed free roam of the house without supervision and does get closed up until she proves she can stay out of trouble. (Because Boo Hahn is quick to point out that she had nothing whatsoever to do with any of it.)
Yep, it was a bit of a gamble if she'd make it to the 25th...but she did. Now it's just another couple of months until she's one and then we'll be thatmuch closer to 2 and when they calm down.
I can make it. I can make it. I can make it. My new mantra...I can make it.
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