I made a promise I don't think I can keep.

We leave for our Christmas "guilt trip" next week. In a fit of pique, or rather, a lengthy negotiation with CPT Dick about child duty this weekend so I can finish up some work, I somehow promised that if I got my work done I would not take my laptop with me to the states.

That I would be laptop-independent for 9 whole days.

I can't explain my reasoning. I was tired and cranky and really thought I was pulling one over on him. I was stupid.

Someone help me get out of this one.

Stunning.

Have you checked out The Full Body Project? Leonard Nimoy -- yes, Mr. Spock for you Trekkies -- is now dabbling in photography. And doing pretty well.

One of his most recent projects, now a book, is of full figured models. The photos, in black and white, are absolutely stunning. Visually arresting, beautifully composed. Just gorgeous.

And yet, as much as I go on and on about how unfair the world is to women and their bodies, I find that I must admit that these pictures make me somewhat uncomfortable. I can't quite figure out why.

Definitely worth a ponder.

She has a point.

"Mitt Romney's wife was on the radio again. And of course, as if she hadn't told us enough, when asked about how her husband was different from the other candidates, she felt it necessary to mention that she is his first wife."

"She does like to bring that up."

"Here's the thing. I figure it's politics, right? I should expect it."

"You should."

"But by the same token, this guy's been in the game for a while. Chances are, he hasn't been faithful to this woman. Hell, I wanted to cheat on her just in the five minutes she talked on the radio. I can only imagine how bad he must be itching after 20 odd years of marriage."

"You're funny."

"So let's be honest. He's probably cheated but just not gotten caught. And like, I know this sounds jaded, but that makes me wonder what else he's getting away with. I mean, Clinton got caught in a lie. Sure. But it makes him somehow seem more honest because he was just so bad at covering his tracks. And that's how I'm approaching politics these days. How fucked up is that?"

Where is the spirit?

Judith Warner, who usually writes about Mommyhood and all the stuff that comes with it in her NYTimes Domestic Disturbances blog, hits the nail on the head when she takes on the presidential candidates and faith.

Where are the moderates, indeed.

My favorite Christmas song.

I've added it to my iPod's Christmas play list. (And actually, this rendition by Robert Downey, Jr. is one of my favorite covers EVAH. I remember seeing it on Ally McBeal -- yes, I'm that old! -- and just tearing up. He's got a great voice).

Christmas cookies.

So if I only have to bring three dozen to the coffee and the recipe makes six dozen, how much dough and how many cookies can I eat and still be in the safe zone?

Exactly right.

An editorial in the NY Times, for me, has gotten why presidential candidate Mitt Romney's speech defending his faith was in such bad taste.

An excerpt:

We believe democracy cannot exist without separation of church and state, not that public displays of faith are anathema. We believe, as did the founding fathers, that no specific religion should be elevated above all others by the government.

The authors of the Constitution knew that requiring specific declarations of religious belief (like Mr. Romney saying he believes Jesus was the son of God) is a step toward imposing that belief on all Americans. That is why they wrote in Article VI that “no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States.”

5 more things.

Tagged again for this. Guess it traveled 'round the Internet and back again. Why not? Certainly there are five more things I can share.

1. There is an old Indian superstition that children with moles on their feet will be travelers (and as part of that old tale, break a mother's heart by leaving her alone). I have two moles on my feet. Munchkin has four.
2. I see nothing wrong with flirting to help get things accomplished, and as such, do so whenever the opportunity presents itself (which, I admit, is less and less now that I'm old and sporting the large post-baby ass). But still, I think whomever said you can get more flies with honey underestimated just what you can accomplish with cleavage.
3. I have a thing for the movie, "Harold and Maude." When life looks its bleakest, I can pop that movie in the DVD player and feel instantly renewed. And for the record, I find the idea of an 18 year old boy and an 80 year woman in bed together very romantic. Probably because I feel like most days I'm set on warp speed towards old age and hope that someone will still want to jump me when I'm a card-carrying member of the AARP.
4. The book I read over and over again? That touches me in a new way every time I pick it up? Margaret Atwood's "The Blind Assassin." The perfect novel, as far as I'm concerned.
5. I cannot read a uniform. I've taken the AFTB classes. I've taken the FRG training. My husband has told me a million times. I've read the books. I just can't bring myself to care. But it embarasses my husband, who doesn't understand how I can still, after all these years, recite the chain rule and discuss where I can be used, but can't remember how many guidons a Staff Sergeant makes. What can I say? I'm quirky.

Anyone else want to play?

Immer Weider.

There is a great German saying: immer weider. Loosely translated, it means "always again," and is basically used to talk about those things that we seem to be permanently cursed with, too much rain, the kid not bothering to sleep through the night, and, of course, how you never realize that you are out of that one crucial ingredient until you are ready to start cooking that gourmet meal.

I love to say it. It just is such a perfect fit for so many situations. Especially for a misanthrope like myself.

And so, immer weiter, we are going to see a new speech and language pathologist (SLP) tomorrow. I'd like to be excited but I am also a little wary. This is our last shot, really. What our pediatrician called, "the only game in town." With a shortage of SLPs in the Army's medical system and those who are here being strictly resourced to injured soldiers, it's been hard to find someone willing to spend some time with Munchkin and figure out his language issues. We've had all kinds of one-off evaluations -- with only the kinds of corresponding diagnoses that you can get after only spending 1/2 hour with a toddler in a strange environment -- but no one to actually treat him.

But after fighting the Army system for months, I've been awarded a victory (not without cost, though -- when the Tricare ladies see me in the PX these days, they quickly turn and walk away lest they have to speak with me). I have won my son some space on the calendar of that one last SLP treating kids, not only for an initial evaluation but for further treament if warranted.

But as I said, if she doesn't work out, I've exhausted my last option. And then I'll have to seriously consider returning to the states.

Needless to say, I'm nervous. I want to like her but I want to make sure I like her not just because she's my only option and I don't want to leave Europe. I want her not to be another cog in the Army medical system wheel, throwing oversimplified and just plain scary diagnoses at me. I want to like her because I want her to be able to help. It's always scary to still find those last vestiges of hope, even after you've been disappointed so many times.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

I might have peed my pants a little.

"Hi, NEE. How are you?"

"Good, thanks."

"Good, good. You probably are wondering why I'm calling. I don't know if you saw the invitation for the non-denominational Bible study that I'm starting after the holidays?"

"Oh, yeah. A couple months ago, right? I'm pretty sure I forwarded the invite on to the families in our FRG back then."

"Yes, and thanks to everyone putting the word out we've had a tremendous response. So much so that it looks like we are going to need to set up a second group to properly minister to everyone."

"Ummm, okay, is there like a time change or something you want me to put out to our families?"

"Oh, well, we're not quite there yet. First, before we can set up that second group and figure out the times and dates and other logistics, we need to find someone to lead it. And I thought you'd be perfect for the job."