I gave my babies a bath and put them in their pajamas. That’s my favorite. When they’re all fresh smelling and still a little damp in clean pajamas. I promised them a treat because Mama needed to run a quick errand. I got my jammied babies Munchkins from the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru for a Saturday night treat and spent two more dollars. Two dollars for the chance.

The Powerball jackpot is $380 million tonight. I’ll battle those odds. People always say, “what they would do if they won.” I’m talking about what I would do immediately, in the 24 hours after finding out I had the winning numbers. If I win tonight, this is what I would do:

1. Call Greyson and repeatedly check the numbers. (He’s traveling.)

2. Make him come home.

3. Put the ticket somewhere really close to me and try to sleep.

4. Call the lottery office in the morning, but they may not be open or answering calls. I don’t really know how that works.

5. Go to church, thank God, try to get my head straight and not tell anyone else.

6. Treat the kids to Chipotle for lunch because, I mean, come on, we’re millionaires, baby!

7. Talk to Greyson about hiring a lawyer and financial adviser.

8. Hopefully go to the lottery office if it’s open. I think you may have to wait until Monday.

9. Try not to tell anyone.

10. Go to the Lululemon store and get me some new work-out clothes. I feel like a lottery winner should get to splurge on the $90 workout pants she’s had her eye on.

11. Email and call Dave Ramsey. I think we’ll need all the financial advice we can get.

12. Find out from the lottery office if I can be anonymous. I’m really not interested in telling anyone or doing a press conference. Let me be clear that as a former reporter I am super-pro media, but if I can get away with not going public, I will.

13. Take the kids home for naps and hope Greyson is home by this time. I imagine he’d be on a plane immediately.

14. Start making a list of things to pay off. Our washer and dryer. I’m sick of that bill. Suck it HH Gregg. I’m a millionaire! Gimme a new TV. I’ll pay in cash.

This is my current theory about Blizzard 2015. Only the mother of a 4-year-old girl would think this. Happy Super Bowl week! Stay warm!

There is a holiday epidemic plaguing the homes of infants and toddlers around the world. This year it hit our home.

Escaping Christmas trees.

Trees are taking their boughs and baubles and getting out of the homes where they are imprisoned. Many trees in the houses of young children say they’re sick of only being decorated 2/3rds of the way down. Their lower thirds remain naked. I can’t blame them. How would you feel if your lower third was bare? I like mine looking just as festive as my top, thank you very much. Why should a Christmas tree be any different?

Other trees feel gypped because the adults in their homes no longer put fine crystal ornaments on them like they used to. Cherished ceramic ornaments remain boxed up, replaced by BPA-free plastic balls. It’s insulting to the trees. If you have to be chopped down and hauled away from your family on the tree farm, you want to be decorated properly. Not haphazardly covered in makeshift toys some rugrat will drool on.

If your tree is artificial, check to see where it was made. China? It’s likely. The National Christmas Tree Association says 85% of artificial trees are made in China. Your tree may be trying to leave your house to get home before the Chinese New Year. It’s just after our New Year and it’s a long journey to your homeland if you’re made of polyvinyl chloride.

The number one way trees try to escape? Toppling over. Trees hope that if they topple over enough that you will get sick of them and drag them to the curb even if it’s just a week before Christmas. Broken ornaments? Water on the carpet? That’s what they want. They want out. It’s a conspiracy. That’s why they make tree stands so lousy.

Yes, you can dispose of an artificial tree on the curb too, although it’s much more rare. AE’s or “artificial escapes” don’t happen too often. Artificial trees are doomed to live in boxes. They want you to throw them out. China, remember?

Solutions For Taming Trees:

How do you prevent your tree from escaping? Fence it in. Check out ours. It’s going NOWHERE! That bad boy is doomed to live in our attic in a musty box 11 months a year! Bwa ha ha! You WILL bring us holiday joy, tree. You will! You live HERE! NOT in China!

Another option is to tether your tree to the wall like our neighbors did to their fresh cut Fraser Fir after it fell over when the kids were playing with it. They also have a one-year-old at their house.

A little known fact is that Christmas trees are afraid of heights. That’s why so few of them grow tall enough to be the tree at Rockefeller Center or at the White House. Funny, I was unable to find a fact from the NCTA to back that up. One family I know exploited their tree’s fear of heights by putting it up on a table. The tree stayed put, not daring to venture down near the family’s toddler.

It’s a holiday battle! Keep your trees contained and your little ones safe.

Do you ever watch something and you are laughing the loudest? Something that is funnier to you than it is to other people? For some reason you can’t hold it together when you watch it, but everyone else just kind of chuckles? I have a few things that do this to me:

• Any episode of “30 Rock”
• Kathleen Madigan’s stand-up
• Tina Fey’s book “Bossypants”
• Thinking about when I used to chase my younger sister with a feather duster when we were kids
• My husband singing “There She Goes” by Six Pence None The Richer

I have to add this character from Saturday Night Live. I first saw the “guy who moves like a baby” sketch last year. This weekend, SNL had another one. Beck Bennett plays the part. I think it cracks me up so much because I spend my days with a one-year-old who does all of these things.

Here you go, a little laughter for your Monday. Enjoy!

We’re preparing for Henry’s baby dedication tomorrow. For those of other faiths, that’s the Baptist equivalent of a christening/baptism for a baby. I totally meant to do it when he was younger, before his first birthday, but we just joined a new church. Tomorrow we are having a family celebration for the kids’ birthdays after the service.  (They are 4 and 1 this week if you haven’t followed all my nauseating activity on social media.)

First birthday. Baby dedication. I clean the house and feed everyone once. Boom. It’s a beautiful thing. I picked up the cake today. I just posted this on Instagram:

FYI, Harris Teeter is our local grocery store. You know, looking at it now, the baker probably just started his name too far over and needed to fill the space. Whatever.

Greyson says, “Um, why did you get a cross cake? You make us look like zealots or something.” I’ll admit. There is a hint of piousness mixed in that icing. I’m not one for Bible beating or forcing my faith through food or any other means. I just got your standard cake from the grocery store bakery under the “Baptism/Christening/Communion” designs.

Charlotte’s cake for her baby dedication was from a specialty bakery and had her monogram on it. Oh, and it must have been made with holy water and had edible gold flecks in the fondant for the outlandish price I paid. Screw that. I’m not buying that again. Poor second child. He gets grocery store cake.

I will say, there are two things I will NOT STAND FOR when it comes to cake.

1. Almond flavoring- Remember how old-school wedding cakes were RUINED by that stuff? Ugh! It makes it taste like Dr. Pepper. Dr. Pepper is the devils brew. Speaking of the devil…

2. Whipped icing- At the bakery they asked me if I wanted whipped or buttercream icing. Why would you even ask me that?! I would never subject my sweet babies to whipped icing on their birthdays. It’s “icing lite.” It’s crap. If I’m eating cake, I want cake, not “cake lite.” Beth Anne said it best, “Whipped icing is the devil’s baby batter.”

So true. Lord knows the devil has no place on my holy rolling cake. Can I get an “Amen?”