Happy New Year . . .

. . . despite the ongoing basement saga.

We celebrated New Year's Eve at our friends' home. It's the first New Year's party we've ever gone to (except for family parties). It was a blast. Good food, good friends, noise makers, and hilarious jokes from the "Made in China" party favors. I was laughing so hard I cried. Here are a few:

Q: What do you get when you cross a cow, a sheep and a goat?
A: A milky baa kid.

Q: What do you call a mischievous egg?
A. A practical yorker.

Q: Where does Tarzan buy his clothes?
A: At a jungle sale.


Ha ha. I did not mistype anything; that's how they were printed. The phrase "lost in translation" comes to mind.


Here are some pictures of my boys partying it up:





I had a proud parent moment when Sam connected a toy air pump to his party blower. He excitedly showed us all his new invention and how it worked. Future engineer:



Mick crashed the next day. I think he's stayed up past midnight every New Year's Eve since he's been born. Current night owl:



Jeff's New Year's resolution is to be a punk:




Carrie just wants the never-ending basement saga to end. We have a company coming over tomorrow to put in a drainage system to prevent flooding. We cleaned out the laundry/storage room and moved the toys and carpet away from where they will be working. Even after they're done we'll have to re-glue the carpet pad, re-stretch the carpet, re-attach the baseboards, and re-do all the touch up paint. I'm re-really sick of it. I've been trying to look on the bright side by telling myself, "well at least the furnace hasn't gone out yet so we don't freeze in this unbelievably frigid weather." Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.