Why does it ask for a title? I'm no good at titles.

Well ... where to start?

I'm still not full of humor and amazing witticisms today.
I'm close to seven steps from bursting into tears (unlike this weekend, where it was more like three steps away).

Howsabout we just start with a recap of the weekend...

• The kids got home from school shortly after Michael got back from doing some visits for Elders Quorum. I made sure to give them hugs ... and not to burst into tears, which would probably freak them out.
• We ran some errands with the kids ... picked up a hold at the library, turned in some books, took them to the bank to put the contents of their piggy banks into their accounts (Bruise and Bucket also made their first withdrawal from their accounts. Money to buy each other Christmas presents), and to the mall to pick up our portraits (I had to go back later to get our cards) and for Bruise and Bucket to get each other gifts.
• Michael made dinner while I ran back to get the aforementioned cards. As I went, there were lots of sirens approaching the mall. Apparently, as I headed back home, a fire truck was stopping at a local restaurant. I have no idea what was going on ... but I hope it all went well.
• Michael had me watch a couple episodes of Psych to help get me cheered up again. It was a good effort. I wasn't feeling like crawling into the shower, curling up into a ball, and weeping. ... But I wasn't about to break out into a Vaudeville-esque routine, either.
• Saturday morning, our ward (congregation) had our Ward Christmas Party/Breakfast. We ate pancakes, scrambled eggs (well, not Michael. He's anti-egg.), sausages, orange juice, and hot cocoa. We sang hymns and the youth put on a little production. Bucket didn't want to get up and sing. We didn't force her to. She also complained that she had a headache and a stomachache. Then she was mad/sad when I, shockingly, wouldn't let her run around with the other kids (Hey, if she's not feeling well, running around screaming is NOT any cure for a headache. And I'm not taking a chance that she'd throw up the hearty breakfast she'd bolted down shortly before). So, after the breakfast was over, I took her and Bubbles, who was getting fussy, out to the car. They fussed and cried and I read a book and waited for the menfolk (Michael and Bruise) to finish helping clean up so we could go home.
• I know that we cleaned the house. Bruise ate mashed potatoes! And we did talk to the kids about Sandy Hook (I'd much rather they hear about it from us than from kids at school. I learned that one quickly after last year ... a car got caught in some flooding [which they passed on their bus route]. A mother and little boy drowned. The other passengers were able to get out. I hadn't thought about telling my innocent Kinders about it. However, one of their fellow bus-mates did. So much for keeping them sheltered, right? ... Well, at least I always knew, even before they were born, to talk about the birds and the bees with them.)
• Speaking of ... we finished reading "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever" on Saturday evening. And, since one of the lines in it was about some kids being accused of always talking about sex and underwear, Bucket asked me, "What's sex?"
  "Sex is how babies are made. It's what mommies and daddies to to make a baby." And I told them that it should be between married people. And that they should wait until they're married, please.
  If they ask any more, I can give them more specifics ... They're aware that people make babies. And that, as we've stressed, they shouldn't be doing any of the things to make babies until they're married.
  (I strongly stress to them that if they respect a person, and that person respects them, they'll wait. I know that not everyone feels this way ... but, well, I figure that if someone genuinely loves you, they'll take your well-being with more concern than their being able to satisfy a biological impulse. ... That and I've seen so many wonderful girls [and boys] hurt when they're so intimate and things either don't work out ... or things go VERY badly. ... Again, I'm aware that you might not share that opinion. And I'm not going to judge.)
• We went to church yesterday. I got to make it through MOST of Relief Society (the women's class) before Bubbles started squawking. Oh well. At least, after we left the room, we got to talk to a couple people in the hallway. That was nice.
• Had to do ANOTHER factory reset on my phone. Looks like we'll be getting new phones soon. What with how this one is starting to freeze up or turn off when I plug it in to charge ... It's an old phone. At least, unlike Michael's phone (my older phone), it stays on when it's in my pocket ... so it could be worse, right?
• Michael had more EQ visits. The kids watched more Schoolhouse Rock (yes, they are my kids. Now to get them started on Bill Nye, Science Guy. And Mr. Wizard).

Bubbles had a fever this morning. I gave her Tylenol and, as she was acting tired after playing for a half hour or so, laid her down for another nap.

The kids headed off to school, all bundled up, with their lunches and a gift for their teachers. (I'd rather get it to their teachers early than late.)

Washed some laundry. Emailed Michael. Made some phone calls for my calling (church responsibility) and reported back to my Relief Society president. Got a shower. Put a load of dishes into the dishwasher. Talked to my dad and his girlfriend on the phone.

I'm about halfway through A Christmas Carol. Then to read The Forgotten Carols. 

Before I put Bubbles down for another nap, I cuddled her on my chest/abdomen until she fell asleep. But her fever's gone ... so that's good.

And I'm battling the ants again. They're trying to take over the hall bathroom. And, well, anywhere else they can think of. I'm hoping that this is their last stand of the year/season. We'll see.
Regardless, I need to buy another container of the organic/child-and-pet-safe ant killer.

And ... I need to paint my toenails. I'll feel better. I just need to get round to doing it.
And I should paint Bucket's and Bubbles' toes, too. Why not, right?