Oh, I've been a bad, bad blogger.

I haven't even looked at this since Sunday. SUNDAY! And now it's Friday. I mean sheesh, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday are effortless, and yet I haven't even managed to summon the energy to slap up a picture or two. Sorry about that. I'm just... tired. Wrung out. Depleted. I tell ya, when someone in your household has issues, everybody suffers.

I've mentioned before that my husband has OCD, and he's been clinically depressed for a very long time. Oh, and did I mention he has some serious problems with Christmas? And Seasonal Affective Disorder? These are the darkest, coldest, busiest, stressiest days of the year, and there is not enough chamomile or Calgon in the world...

Between the hormones (mine), the meds (his), the laundry and the vacuuming and the holiday prep and the cold and the worrying, the supporting, encouraging, frustrating, exhausting... (see how I switched from verbs to gerunds there? Did ya like that?) I'm beat.

Distance Santa is in the mail. Local Santa is bought, wrapped and under the tree, for the most part. The stockings are ready to be hung, the children can nestle themselves, thankyouverymuch, and the sugarplums have their dancing shoes on. That long winter's nap? Bring it.