I usually do this on Tuesday, but I’m a little behind this week.

Ah, glorious Thursday. One day away from Friday, which puts me thismuchcloser to the weekend.

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I am so behind on my Christmas shopping this year. I’ve tried to do a lot of it online, but the bigger issue is that I’m stumped for ideas. My mom, for instance, is THE hardest person in the world to shop for. Yes, it’s really that difficult. It’s hard to shop for someone in her late ’70s who pretty much has whatever she wants. And the fact that her birthday is next week doesn’t make it any easier. She is the 9th out of 10 kids, so she had a childhood full of combined gifts, so really, I need to come up with two ideas.

My brother asked her straight out what she wants—no sense being subtle with her—and she told him she wanted a Roomba. You know those robot vacuums that you turn loose on your floor? I guess Target had a Buy One Get One deal and she wanted both—one for one end of the house and one for the other. He called her back and told her he found them, thought they were cool and decided to give the second one to his mother-in-law. Needless to say my mom was sort of annoyed at that one.

Roomba by iRobot

So now the question is, should I go out and get a second one for her? Oy. I hate this time of the year.

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I finally got my tree out of storage this weekend and put it up. At 7:00 p.m. Sunday night I got an energy boost and decided to tackle it then. Big mistake. By the time I got the tree set up and all the ornaments unwrapped and ready to put up, I was done. I’ve been decorating here and there during the week, and last night I decided I was done—until I looked at the tree and realized there weren’t any ornaments on the top half. I thought about leaving it that way—after all, I’m only 4’11” and the tree is 7′ tall, but I knew Bill would notice, so I added some more and called it a night.

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It’s no secret around here that I bought a purebred dog. I struggle with that sometimes because I totally believe in rescuing animals from shelters. Gracie’s predecessor was a shelter dog, and she was the most awesome dog ever. The irony of that is, of course, that finding a Samoyed in a shelter was not going to happen again and I wanted another. In purchasing Gracie I got sucked into the world of dog shows, and I pretty much embraced that (it’s an odd world, but that’s part of the fun).

But there’s a big downside—getting an AKC registered dog from a breeder ties you to people you might not normally associate with otherwise. It’s like having in-laws: you have to tolerate them because they’re family, but you don’t necessarily like them (Sue, if you’re reading this, I don’t mean you!).

Today I got a panicked phone call from Gracie’s breeder. She’s breeding Gracie’s mother again to a different father (hussy!) and she needs to show proof that the puppies from Gracie’s litter are healthy. And by healthy, they mean certified to not have hip or eye problems, not just regular health issues. This requires X-Rays and a few other tests. Personally, I think Gracie needs glasses the way she walks into walls and doors, but I think they’re more concerned with bone density and hip dysplasia.

Gracie's stamp of approval

She was panicking because she never told me she needed this done in a certain time frame. It was always, “If you decide to breed her, you need to do this first.” And frankly, I haven’t decided yet.

And because I can’t just drop everything and run our during the day to do this, and because, let’s face it, this isn’t really MY problem, she’s going to pick Gracie up at my office and take her to a vet to get all of this done.

Bill doesn’t trust that she’ll bring Gracie back to me. I don’t think she’s that devious or shady, but Internet, you are my witness. Gracie will be picked up at 9:45 a.m. tomorrow and if she isn’t returned to me by noon, I’m going to hunt her down. Who’s coming with me?!