Dead deer, newborn babies & Christmas decorations

Let’s just go ahead & get the gross stuff out of the way first.  Last weekend was opening weekend for gun season (for deer) & Greg went out on Saturday morning, guns a-blazin’.  Unfortunately, he didn’t get anything and he was pretty bummed out.  He went a few times before/after work this week and saw a few things but didn’t have the chance to shoot anything. 

But Saturday?

Saturday morning around 7:30 I got a hushed phone call from him telling me that he got a 9-point buck!

Look at how proud my boys are!

I was a little worried when Greg said he was going to come home to show it to us because I was afraid that Brock would be scared of it.

His reaction?

“Whoa.  I’ve never seen a deer before!”

Either he’s really brave or he’s on the path for a really weird profession.

As far as the logistics of deer hunting goes, Greg likes to kill bucks for the trophy but does (the she-deer) really have better meat.  However, we didn’t want to just have the thing mounted and then throw away the meat.  Greg has a friend that was willing to take the meat off of our hands so it worked out great!  And, a few years back, Greg won a free deer mount from a taxidermist at a benefit (hmm, that was an incredibly strange sentence-fragment) so he can get it mounted for free!  Yippee!

Even though bucks have tougher meat, their tenderloins are still the bomb.  So, before Greg gave the rest of the meat away, he cut out the tenderloin.

I’ve got one more disgusting picture to put up so if you have a weak stomach or can’t stand the sight of blood or don’t like to look at the raw meat, turn your head, scroll down several inches & then resume reading.  Trust me, it will be worth it.  I got to snuggle & take pictures of a less-than-2-week-old baby this weekend & I’m going to share.  Just, not quite yet.

I know it’s pretty gross, but damn.  That’s a lot of tenderloin.  Yum!

Alright, now that I’ve made you vomit in your mouth first thing Monday morning, here are some super sweet pics of a deliciously-fresh-out-of-the-oven baby that I got to snuggle this weekend!

Beautiful momma. Beautiful baby. Beautiful moment.

And, that’s all I’m going to give you right now!  But, as soon as I get some of them edited, I promise to post more.

You will want to come back.

Trust me.

Now comes the part in which I tell you how ashamed of myself I am. 

Normally, we honor the turkey.  I’ve always been a one-holiday-at-a-time kinda girl and it drives me bananas how Christmas things are for sale before Halloween and when my husband is singing Christmas music long before I’ve even starting thinking about tryptophan.

But this year?

This year we did this:

Why yes that IS my kid in his Toy Story underwear.

And this:

And this:

And even this:

These are in the bathroom. Just in case the shower curtain didn't give it away.

Brock loved getting out all of the ornaments and hanging them on the tree.  He loved looking at the old ornaments that Greg has from kindergarten with his picture in it saying, “Hey!  My dad wooks just wike me!”  He also loved playing with all of our singing/dancing characters:

Adrianna was not nearly as impressed:

Despite my best efforts to encourage her to explore the tree, she wasn’t having any part of it.

She did finally come around:

And they even let me take a few pictures of them in front of the tree that we might end up using for our Christmas cards.  I was so shocked that they were both looking toward the camera and somewhat smiling, I’m not even concerned that neither of them have pants on.

Merry Christmas, everybody!

Love,

Former Scrooge-ette