Done!

With the last of my Christmas shopping! Hallelujah! I've finally got the last of the gifts- those I-really-don't-want-to-give-you-a-gift, but-I-have-to ones are completely out of the way, hurray! Although I could use a few more stocking stuffers for Cameron & Brent, but those don't really count.
Went to Pier 1 today- they had oodles of neat stuff at great prices. Managed to find a present for me (although not really for 'me' so much, since it's for the house, right?) Found these cool circus dominos for Cameron's stocking. They always have neat little toys for kids there- the cool wooden ones. I dig anything that requires no batteries though. I try to make it a point to never buy any toy that requires them for our own children, since everyone else seems to cover that base for us. That's really great to include the first round of batteries, but three hours later, those are dead, and it's time to reload, hence finding an itty bitty screwdriver to unscrew 10 itty bitty screws, only to put in 10 batteries that will last approximately 3 more hours. Fun times.
Gotta start getting ready for the Christmas party soon... although the getting ready entails so much more these days that doesn't really entail getting me ready. Like bathing the kids, getting dinner ready for Cameron, getting bottles ready for Megan, getting all possible things that the grandparents might need ready and accessible, and then jumping in the shower and attempting to get dressed and ready and walk out of the house without any snot or spit up visible on me. Brent gets to come home, change shirts, and be ready to go. Which is fine, but there's nothing more irritating than the traditional, "Why are you so stressed out? We're just having a fun night out!" To which I feel the urge to reply, "Where would you like me to bop you exactly?"
I also have the joy of packing my pump, because by the end of the evening I shall look like Anna Nicole and need to pump on the hour ride home so I don't explode, which is another joy. Brent always gets so paranoid about me pumping in the car, but I figure if some guy gets off on watching a boob get sucked six inches through a tube over and over, and is willing to stare through a tinted window while going 70 miles an hour down the freeway to get a peep at it, then he's earned it by then. I really don't see the attraction, but hey, whatever. Nothing says sexy night out like a breast pump.