The impossible has happened. After the debacle of teething unrest, Gabey has actually slept through the night for the first time in who can remember how long. In fact, it's after 7 A.M. and I can still hear his little sleepy baby breathing. He's definitely considering his waking up options, but for now, he's giving me a break.

So, now I'm contemplating the fate of big cardboard boxes. The basement has been graced with a new couch and love-seat, but the sofa beds still loom large, now in the dark end of the basement. Along with the tent, crawling tube, Alex's table and chairs, the play kitchen, three toy boxes, a doll house, two farms, two castles, a basketball net, shopping cart, puzzle basket, and slide, not to mention puppet theater with -most- of its puppets, it's getting a wee bit crowded.

Like her love for all her things, the love for the cardboard boxes - one from Gabe's big boy car seat and the other from the slide - waxes and wanes from day to day. My instinct to recycle is starting to get the better of me, though. She probably won't notice the loss of her impromptu cave, and Gabey won't miss the boxes, especially since he's hesitant to go into them. So maybe, just maybe, they'll disappear some time soon. I mean, let's face it, of the cats don't use them, why do we have them?

In any case, a more pressing need right now is the need to de-Christmas the house. I've got replacement lights glaring at me just above my recently cleaned desk, and Alex's Christmas tree drives me crazy every time I go into her room. Most everything else is put away, and the big tree is waiting on the deck to be deposited somewhere more appropriate like the compost pile. Maybe before the next "storm" (One to two inches of snow is a storm? Am I missing something here? Clearly I must be...) I'll get around to dragging the tree somewhere less conspicuous. But for now, it's 17 degrees outside, and my hair is wet. Best not to venture out right now.