Proof we ruined him.

When Ben was two, we brought him up to my mom and dad's bed on Christmas morning and asked him if Santa came last night and brought him any presents.

In the tiniest, shakiest voice ever, he replied, "Santa's not scary."

Last year we had him and Renee write notes to Santa and since Ben was learning to write letters, he told us what he wanted to say and, since you hang on my every word you may remember, his letter ended up saying, "Dear Santa, Thanks for the good work."

This year he knows how to write whole words, and all we had to do was give the monkey a marker and tell him to dance. Here's what the kid came up with.

In case you're not up to speed on deciphering 6-year-old, that says "Dear Santa, Even if you're not there, I still know you're watching!! Love, Ben."

So Ben's impression of Santa is a home invader stalker who demands encouragement. If that's not the makings of a Merry Christmas for a kid, I don't know what is.

Here's a pic of Renee with her letter too. Renee, since you hang on my every word you may remember, has a tendency to write novels about how good she has been and is hellbent on riding on Santa's sleigh.

These damn kids. Why are they so fun to torture?

Regressing is totally rad.

I live in my parents' basement. It looks like a lawyer's office and has a bar and a bathroom and a bedroom and a living room and isn't like the basements that I imagine World of Warcrafters live in until they're 40.

And sometimes, when I'm laying on the couch bundled up in a down comforter watching a marathon of Dexter and being totally devoid of any adult responsibilities, my dad will appear in my basement apartment and hand me a dish of exquisite homemade pudding topped with fluffy whipped cream.

I pay nothing for these fancy quarters and this extraordinary service, and it makes me wonder, why did I ever leave home?

The whew to end all whews.

Good news, guys. THE WORLD DID NOT END.

Instead, Dec. 21, 2012, ended up being a practically fantastic day. Yes, it was freezing outside and I had to hang posters for work and that made my fingers and toes very angry, but that was the absolute most awful thing that happened to me all day... if I actually had run out of gas on the interstate exchange like I thought I did, that would have been the most awful thing but it turns out, that was just my car's way of saying, "I'm fucking serious."

Last night, when it was snowing and I saw lightning and then I pulled into Target and everything went black because the power failed, I wasn't so sure it wasn't the beginning of the end. But now, as I'm curling up in my nice, warm covers and preparing to watch some Netflix, I realize that was just more of the usual. The usual weirds and wows and uh ohs that is the everlasting now.

I knew the world wasn't going to end. See, I am a rational person with reasonable thoughts. I don't believe in nonsense, even though I love make believe and magic and hope ghosts are real. The whole planet simultaneously going POOF! is absolute nonsense. I know this as much as I know I am Amber. Plus, USA Today said it wasn't going to happen just last weekend, and USA Today knows things. Still, I was fuhreaking out about it on and off for about three years.

I have had a great life, and if everything had gone to shit today, I would have been okay. I would have managed to drink my stiff drink and give myself over to the burning meteors or the aliens or the black hole or the angry Jesus or the whatever that was our fate. My only hang up about the world ending was this: I didn't want the babies I know to have to feel the terror that must come with an event like the end of the world.

When 9/11 happened and I watched people experiencing their personal end of the world jumping out the windows of a burning building, all I could think about was the terror they must be feeling if hopping out a window 80 stories in the air seemed like a reprieve. Babies shouldn't have to feel terror like that. No one should, but especially not babies.

Luckily, the babies are okay. In fact, I got to spend the evening pretend-eating one and teaching another one how to throw elbows. I got to have fish sandwiches and coleslaw with my parents and sister and my cousin Nate. I got to have an impromptu trip to the mall with my friend Heather, and then I got to have three long-awaited old fashioneds and watch the clock roll over to 12/22.

So, the world didn't end. Life not only went on, it continued to be better than I probably deserve. And I got to wear an awesome "I ain't going down" hat all day long. Today was the best day ever.

Cornbread you have to try before the world ends.

You have 3 days to make and eat this.

I'm only enh about cornbread but when my mom makes this, I get all OMGOMGOMGOMG about it. I don't know if it's the zucchini or the onion or what, but I love the texture and heftiness of this cornbread. It's a little, hmmm, gooeyish, when it's still warm, but I usually can't wait for it to cool, so I just make cornbread butter mash and eat it with a fork. I look real sexy when that happens, let me tell you.

Zucchini Onion Cornbread

Mix these dry ingredients with a whisk in a large bowl. Make sure it is large because you'll be pouring the wet ingredients down there into it in a minute.

2 cups cornmeal
1/2 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 tsp. black pepper
1/2 tsp. dried lemon peel

Mix these wet ingredients in a separate bowl using a rubber spatula.

3 egg whites and 1 whole egg beaten well with a whisk
1 and 1/2 cups buttermilk, do not substitute
3 cups grated, unpeeled zucchini
1/2 cup vegetable oil, not olive oil
1 medium onion chopped fine

Pour wet ingredients into dry and mix into a batter.

Spray a glass baking dish with Pam (we use a round stoneware or casserole dish, but you can also use a preheated iron skillet or a muffin tin if you want bite sized cornbreads).

Pour in the batter.

Bake at 425 degrees 25 to 35 minutes. May take less time in preheated iron skillet or as muffins. It should be golden brown on top and have a clean toothpick when inserted.

Allow to cool for 15 minutes before cutting or it may crumble. (Ain't that a cute suggestion? Clearly this recipe was written before the end of the world was just a few days away...)