I’ve been tagged again. 8 things you don’t know. Seriously, in about 6 months you’ll probably know my SSN – I’ll have nothing else new for you.

1. Apparently my love for M.Damon has been around longer than I thought. Yesterday when looking up my credit report, my secret question was favorite movie. Usually I pick the obvious question like maiden name or school mascot – if nothing else so H. Pimp could answer also. But that was my question and I blanched, trying to think of what I would have chosen back whenever. Goonies? Karate Kid? Some Kind of Wonderful? But when I asked myself honestly, the answer was Goodwill Hunting. And tadow! That was the answer.

2. [Warning: Parenting TMI. Stop if you’ll get grossed out. ] Yesterday I put some baby oil on Lo’s head and let it sit for a while, then while she calmly watched some Sesame Street I combed out most of the cradle cap she still had left. It was both repulsive and compulsive.

3. I really don’t like Christmas music a whole lot. Maybe because it’s the same songs again and again, but I usually want to stab myself in the ear by December 31st. The two exceptions, without fail and in perpetuity, are Carol of the Bells and O Holy Night. I get chills every single damn time I hear those songs – if they’re actually people. No muzak, thank you.

4. My mom unknowingly bought Lo an outfit from Jay Z’s Rocawear children’s line, and as truly adorable as it its, I simply cannot stop laughing when she wears it. I’ve been trying to teach her to brush her shoulder off, to no avail.

5. We’re pretty close to selling our dust-catching elliptical in the basement, and the thought of someone bringing me cash to take clutter out of my house is filling me with a profound excitement. I’ve noticed the last two days that I’ve subconsciously been scrutinizing items all over the house. No wonder people get addicted to this process. Watch out, dog. (I kid! I kid!)

6. We’re still debating whether or not to put up a Christmas tree. Truth is, we don’t really have room for it anywhere, I’m not looking forward to a climbing toddler or asshatcat, and it just doesn’t do much for me. Jack’s never known or cared, so it’s been a few years since we’ve done it. But apparently we are horrible parents. I’m shocked at the number of people who have openly told me it’s not cool to Jack. My MIL told me that Jack told her “our Christmas tree is outside.” She acted hurt, like maybe we were so cruel as to put it in the landscaping, laughing maniacally and dancing around it while Jack looked out and cried with his hands on the windows. Gimme a break. I don’t know what in the hell he was talking about. He could have been scripting from Charlie Brown Christmas for all I know. He hasn’t said anything to us. And it’s not like we’ll never do one again (though really, it’s a stupid pagan ritual anyway and I could forgo most of the consumerism of this holiday and still give the kids tradition, but I digress). Sigh. We’ll see.

7. One time a few years ago one of Jack’s lashes fell out and when I taped it and measured it, it was an inch long. Fo’ real. The kid’s got creepy long lashes. Well, somehow – despite the fact that I for once was truly not trying to exaggerate – when it came up I told people it was two inches long. I can’t think of the number of people I swore it was two inches long to, before finally realizing this past Thanksgiving how patently absurd that is. It just never occurred to me that the number I had been throwing out was impossible. And now I wish I could remember how many people I’ve told that to so I could send out an addendum with the real number – which is plenty impressive without the need for exaggeration. Man, I can be such a moron. For the record my name really is Jennifer.

8. When Jack stands up to pee in the toilet he leans forward but throws his arms straight back like a ski jumper. Give him some goggles and he’d be good to go. Funny little dude.

So there ya go. Not all about me, but new info nonetheless. I tag Tuck, Tracy, Lauren, Jamie McJ, H.Pimp, Jen-nay, Casey and Mads.