If you would have come by today, and peeked in my windows...

I might have called the cops. I mean, who does that? The peeking thing? Scary people. And my mom.

Nah. I wouldn't have even noticed, because most of the day I was meandering around with my head near the floor, my rear in the air, sorting piles of toys, piles of papers, piles of clothes.

I'm feeling almost giddy about the improvement in the clutter situation. I'm feeling like crap, though, with a scratchy throat and stuffy nose. I'm thinking it might be a cold, so I'm swilling Airborne every few hours. Most likely it is dust from all the excavations I've been doing.

As I doggedly plowed through the piles, I kept unearthing notes written to me by my oldest daughter. And with each new discovery, I realized that I take her adoration for granted, and that I've been focusing on the times where we struggle to see eye-to-eye lately. She's an amazing kid, and she freaks me out with her big ideas and party planning and the eye-rolling. I mean, look:

But then I go and find a note that she wrote for me at school that says:

Novemder, 18, 2006

Dear Mom,
You Have gave me alot. But you shurlyderserv a cacke or present. Anyway. I Love You!

She frustrates me, and then gives me props. I love that about her. She's got my number big time.

Like the fact that she and her brother spent this afternoon emptying the ink out of the pens I bought for Christmas card writing purposes (grrr!) making special drawings for me. My son crafted a winged X-mas Dino that is striped green, red, gold and silver, and features many spikes and horns, including a really long one on the forehead that is topped by a star. My daughter drew me an X-mas unicorn who is sprinkling the earth with silver Christmas magic.

You can't be mad at that. You just can't be.

And then there's my wee monster, who has been singing her delightfully off-tune version of We Wish You A Merry Christmas. I mean, how cute is this?



She Wishes You A Merry Christmas on Vimeo

How Mommyblogger can you get, huh?