Radical Mama and Avitable have both done this Elf thingee, so I decided to do it too.  At 10:44 on a Friday night.  That’s sad.  I used my Wee Me face for it because I don’t have any pictures of just me.  Is that weird or normal?  Anyway, here I am.

I have the munchkin for the weekend.  He was going to play Oblivion, but Guitar Hero was already in the XBox.  So rather than getting up and switching the games, he’s playing guitar on a regular controller.  He won’t even get up to get the little fake plastic guitar.  I think I might be ashamed right now.

But really, is that what I should be ashamed of?  I’m thinking not.  I’m thinking this is what I should be ashamed of:  my darling child said the words “nut sack” and “wang” today.  Right in front of me.  Actually, and more to the point, to me.  He wasn’t calling me either of those things, rather he was referring to them because the dog was stepping on his junk.  I guess this is what happens to twelve-year-old boys who have mothers with mouths like mine.  But he could’ve just said, “Mom, the dog is on my junk!”  Jeez …

Hey!  He just got up to get the guitar!  It’s a proud moment.

Tomorrow I get to go Christmas shopping for this same kid with my ex-husband and his new wife.  That should be fucking awesome.  I can think of many things I’d rather do than this, but we’ve discovered it’s the best way for us not to duplicate gifts and for stuff to be even money-wise.  Ex is pretty good about adhering to my budget, as far as I know anyway.  He could be going out and spending a bunch more money after I’m gone.  You never know.  The point is, if he’s doing that, it’s not in my face and I don’t have that, “Oh, I can’t keep up with you” thing going on.

I’m totally bummed.  My sister’s having this party in Austin this weekend and I can’t go.  There’s the issue of boarding the dog which I would do, but he just got boarded for Thanksgiving, and I’d feel bad about doing it again so soon.  Also, it’s my weekend with the kid, and since I didn’t have him for Thanksgiving and I didn’t have him last weekend because of Ex’s wedding, I would like to spend some time with him.  The party is sooooo not going to be kid-appropriate.  The invitation was along the lines of “2007 sucked … let’s get drunk!”

It’s okay though.  She and her husband will be here the weekend after, so I’ll see them then.  We’ll make up for me missing out, but we’ll have to be somewhat well-behaved since I do have the damn Christmas skating show on that Sunday, so I need to not be barfing and stuff like last weekend.  Of course, I do plan on having a drink or two before the show.  I’m sorry, but there is no way in fuck I’m doing “The Island of Misfit Toys” in the fucking Rudolph show without a buzz.  The other adult in the show thought that we should sneak alcohol into the show.  Really, it’s not a bad idea!

My coach introduced me to drinking before skating.  Clarification:  he introduced me to drinking before performing.  When I played hockey, it was kind of expected that you’d have a beer before the game (gaggers – that sucks on your stomach).  This is a little different.  The issue here is more stage-fright than anything else.  So last summer, when we had to do an exhibition, D was like, “Make a drink before the show”.  I was all worried about it, but I did it anyway.  And yes, it totally helped.  If only I had known about it when I was in ballet.  Of course, I was only legal for four of my performance years (I retired from ballet at age 25 if you don’t want to do the math) so it would’ve been an extraordinarily bad idea, but hey, whatever works.  Anyway, so the other day he asked me if I was going to drink before this show, and I said “You know, yeah, I am.”  And J, who is in the show as well decided that was a pretty good idea and he thought he’d drink beforehand too.  We are setting very bad examples.  D has also suggested from time to time that I drink before my lessons.  I get a little spazzy for him sometimes.

All right, I’m off to bed.  I think I want to be well-rested for the group shopping.  No need to be a snarky little bitch because I’m tired or anything.