It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

Team Stinson visited the Kings in Nashville this weekend.  Brad and I went to the Titans game, which was great.  The whole way to Nashville, Waylon was clearly under the impression that we were going to visit his cousin Brayden in Iowa.  The names are just so similar to a 21-month old.  No matter how many times we explained it, he didn't get it until he laid eyes on Aidan.  Here, clockwise from top left, are Waylon and Aidan cruising in Aidan's car; Waylon looking through the View Finder his Aunt Pam sent him (he sees "Grandma, Briggs, and Mama" in every slide); another pic of the boys (Waylon taking the wheel); and our boy last Christmas.  

 

 

I am finishing Carol Felsenthal's book, Clinton in Exile: A President Out of the White House.  I have enjoyed the book, which relies heavily on the author's interviews with certain of the Clinton presidential and post-presidency "team," some of whose identities are revealed, others who remain unnamed.  It fills in some of the gaps left by Clinton's revisionism evident in his memoirs, My Life, which starts out interesting and devolves into hundreds of pages of defensive chronology.   

  

Suni's reading Brothers and Keepers by John Wideman.  I read this book in Colorado back in my freshman year but had forgotten about it.  We found it when we cleaned out our attic to blow insulation last weekend.  It bore an interesting stamp: "Coe College, Stewart Memorial Library."  Oops!  Wonder how much I paid for that damn book? 

Update (12/24/08): We went for Suni's 35-week checkup and learned that the baby is breech.  Next week, we'll discuss the options, but I think Suni is really hoping a C-section is not the reality.  I'm not yet educated enough to know what we're hoping for, other than hoping that the baby turns on his own.  I guess there is still time for that.  We still have no name for this kid.   

I have to have my tonsils removed on Tuesday, and I am not looking forward to that.  It's hard to believe it will be my first surgery ever.  Nobody has spared me the horror stories about adult tonsillectomies.  My Granny warned, "The first three days you'll wish you were dead."  Considering my Granny is the toughest person I know, I'm nervous about being a pansy-ass.  I think I am most nervous about the anesthesia. 

Have a MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone!