Busted

Her eyewear finally met its match. Something about a snowball fight, running children, a tank brigade followed by the running of the bulls, finished with a parade of bulldozers and one giant Zamboni. The other lens is MIA. Fortunately (or not), they were not on her face when they met this end.

Christmas Cake

A friend needed a Christmas gift cake for a party. And gluten-free!! I tested out the recipe with the kids, and they ate it up.  So here it is. Completely edible, too! It’s a gluten-free version of my chocolate cake and vanilla cream cheese frosting with vanilla and cherry fondant.

According to my friend, this cake was a SUCCESS.

The Naughty List

Once again, this guy appeared out of nowhere to scrape my windshield, and once again, I participated in some sassy catcalling that may have alluded to him removing his outer layers. But this time, he flung open my door, leaned in to my face, and said something that puts him squarely on Santa‘s naughty list.

The Chocolate Incident

About 18,000 of you tagged or messaged me today about the chocolate factory incident resulting in a river of chocolate flooding a village street over here in Germany. I have a solid alibi, people. So do my children! You know damn well that if I were in any way responsible, I would have been front and center, bathing in that gooey stream of confection for all the world to see.

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Strasbourg On Our Minds

My phone just lit up with messages requesting my family and I check in with my work, followed by notes from local friends.

No, my family and I are not in Strasbourg tonight, obviously. We are safe in our home. I was there a few weeks ago (with Junior), and it was lovely. The Christmas Market shooting is being called an act of terrorism. I will never understand this violence.

Getting Some Work Done

So, I‘m getting some work done. Cosmetic surgery. A tummy tuck. The toll from four babies and four c-sections (and resulting scar tissue) is becoming more and more obvious as the weight continues to drop and my core firms up. (That was my belly while pregnant with Lola. I was even bigger with Junior.)

Not that my post-pregnancy ”ball of bread dough” has ever stopped me from posting belly pics on my blog, or, uh, hitting the beaches in Italy, or sunning my bits for Google Earth documentation on my balcony. (True story … my blurry realness was captured via satellite.) That belly birthed four awesome humans. Martin’s never once made me feel bad about it. But I‘m just over it.

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