Everything I've been meaning to tell you

Nice of Rambo to help with the lights, don't you think?

There were so many, many things I wanted to tell you while I was on my blogging hiatus.

I wanted to tell you about Ollie deciding that Leon Redbone is his favorite singer (based on a Christmas compilation album we listened to ad nauseum in the car).

I wanted to tell you about the Mister having to put together the ginormous play kitchen Maggie received from our former nanny and how, I really, really hate the way it looks in my living room, this big piece of green and beige plastic as big as a love seat.

I wanted to tell you that Oliver has decided he's going to be a writer when he grows up and that we are going to share an office (swoon).

I wanted to tell you about how Maggie just says, "I'll try it when I'm a teenager," when she doesn't want to taste a new food.

Oh, and and I was going to gush about the amazing new home decor shop I discovered in Hayes Valley. And how I just really want to move in. I could sleep on the pile of felt rugs in the back and be happy forever.

And, speaking of home decor, I'd be remiss if I hadn't mentioned my new silver Christmas pouf, aka: best Christmas gift of 2009.

And I wanted to make list of all the vendors I loved at the Renegade Craft Fair.

And I wanted to admit the fact that I always get sick of having a Christmas tree about a week after we get one (too big, too many needles).

I was going to transcribe this conversation:

Oliver: Mom, how good are you?

Me: I'm good, Ollie. How good are you?

Oliver (in laid back surfer voice): I'm good. I am definitely real good.

I wanted to tell you about how Maggie fell in love with Santa and how she is in the Christmas photos of at least three other families because I could not detach her from his side.

Oh, and the Nutcracker. How my kids sat through the entire thing and Ollie said, "I loved Clara because she was so beautiful when she danced in the snow," and how my heart just about died.

But now, here I am finally blogging again and I feel as if I have nothing to say. Isn't that always the way?