Wordless Wednesday: This is how we roll...

Christmas-Isms....

Decorating Cookies for Santa

He decided to hide in the fridge to wait to surprise Santa.

Putting out "reindeer food"

First Christmas Smiles

Putting out cookies for Santa

Checking to make sure the chimney is clean so Santa can get in...

The Story of Jesus' Birth

My older two had chapel today where Father read them the nativity story.  They recounted it for me on the way home:

Girlie: Mary and Joseph were married and going to have a baby named Jesus.  They decided to go on a vacation, but the hotels were all full because of the convention.

Boyo: So they had to sleep in a barn.  And it smelled like poop!  Isn't that silly?

Girlie: I'M TELLING THIS STORY!  So Baby Jesus came and He was God.  And the angels came and told the sheep that the baby was here.

Boyo: IT'S MY TURN TO TALK!  And there was a star.  And the smart men came from the star.

Girlie: Like aliens.

Boyo: BE QUIET! I'M TELLING IT! Um... I don't know.

Girlie: So they brought presents...

Boyo: But Baby Jesus didn't get a train.  Or a Darth Maul lightsaber.

Girlie: No, he got lotions.  Like for his butt rash.

Boyo: And the angels came back to the smart men.  And told them to go to tell a lie.  Lying is bad, right Mommy?

Girlie: No, no, no.  They HAD to lie.  So Baby Jesus wouldn't get hurt.  Mary and Joseph and Baby Jesus went to 'Gypt.  I think to build a pyramid.

Boyo: And that is why Santa Claus comes! 

Santa Claus

Wordless Wednesday

My son wants to hang these on our Christmas tree next year.

Way to dream big, little man.

This one has my sister written ALL over it....

Because I'm an idiot, I decided to take my kids to the mall yesterday.

The day after Christmas.

Did I mention that I am idiot?

My kids were dolls.

The salesclerks were nice enough.

But it was crowded. And people just STOPPED for no reason.

Right in front of me.

And then they would stand there and not move.

While I had two kids in a double stroller.

So I used it as a battering ram. (And I'm not ashamed of it either.)

Finally, we left. And I was tired. I was tired of pushing a stoller. I was tired of the crowds. I was just tired.

And as we were pulling out of the parking lot, someone cut me off.

I so desperately wanted to scream and curse, kick and punch. But my kids were in the car. And they have picked up enough of my more colorful language to have my friends commenting on it.

So I gritted my teeth, laid on the horn, and shouted, "You IDIOT!"

Girlie piped up from the back seat - "Was that a man or a woman?"

"That," I fumed, "was an idiot."

Girlie sighed and said, "So it was a man."

Twas the Night After Christmas

'Twas the night after Christmas
(Christmas morning that is),
and the children were finally sleeping,
new toys clutched tight in a fist.

Daddy was playing
with his new electronic
while Mommy surveyed the mess;
it made her quite sick.

Buzz Lightyear lay on his side, all but forgotten,
along with the My Little Ponies heaped on the ground.
Ripped wrapping paper littered one room to the next
And ribbons and bows and boxes lay strewn around.

Christmas had come and gone rather fast --
Weeks of shopping and planning forgotten so quickly
And nothing was left to remind Mommy and Daddy
except for the mess and the credit card fee.

When in the kitchen,
there arose such a clatter,
Mommy rushed into the kitchen
to see what was the matter.

When what to her wondering eyes should appear
but an unopened bottle of wine and a new case of beer.
Left there by that wonderful man, so lively and quick,
Mommy knew in a moment it must be St. Nick!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave her to know she had nothing to dread.
"Drink this, you'll need it," he told her
pouring her a nice glass of red.

"For the next week will bring the noise
of new toys and the tantrums they bring,
but also the joy of watching your children
have fun with their new things.

And do not worry at all,"
he said with a wink.
"The year will fly by,
and Christmastime will be back in a blink.
With new demands for toys,
and new finance charges to be had.
So drink this right now,
and it won't seem so bad!"

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

Merry Christmas from Our House to Yours!

Are You Santa?

I can't take credit for this -- I found it on my friend's FB wall, and it moved me. I need to remember this for when I get the same question in a few short years.

"A 3rd grader left her mother a note that said:“Are you Santa? Tell me the truth.”

This was her mother’s reply....

Dear Lucy,

Thank you for your letter. You asked a very good question: “Are you Santa?” I know you’ve wanted the answer to this question for a long time, and I’ve had to give it careful thought to know just what to say.

The answer is no. I am not Santa. There is no one Santa.

I am the person who fills your stockings with presents, though. I also choose and wrap the presents under the tree, the same way my mom did for me, and the same way her mom did for her. (And yes, Daddy helps, too.)

I imagine you will someday do this for your children, and I know you will love seeing them run down the stairs on Christmas morning. You will love seeing them sit under the tree, their small faces lit with Christmas lights.

This won’t make you Santa, though. Santa is bigger than any person, and his work has gone on longer than any of us have lived. What he does is simple, but it is powerful. He teaches children how to have belief in something they can’t see or touch. It’s a big job, and it’s an important one.

Throughout your life, you will need this capacity to believe: in yourself, in your friends, in your talents and in your family. You’ll also need to believe in things you can’t measure or even hold in your hand.

Here, I am talking about love, that great power that will light your life from the inside out, even during its darkest, coldest moments. Santa is a teacher, and I have been his student, and now you know the secret of how he gets down all those chimneys on Christmas Eve: he has help from all the people whose hearts he’s filled with joy.

With full hearts, people like Daddy and me take our turns helping Santa do a job that would otherwise be impossible. So, no. I am not Santa. Santa is love and magic and hope and happiness. I’m on his team, and now you are, too.

I love you and I always will. Mama

--Martha Brockenbrough"

Wordless Wednesday

Remember when I mentioned wanting to wait until Thanksgiving was over to celebrate Christmas?

Well....

~~~

I'm mildly ashamed of myself.

Only 40 more days until Christmas...

I saw this on FB and it made me laugh.

I've always been adamant about NOT celebrating Christmas until after Thanksgiving. Don't get me wrong, the Friday after Thanksgiving (after I hit the Black Friday sales), the tree goes up.

Besides, there is so much going on between now and Christmas... my birthday, Thanksgiving, Boyo's birthday, finals... thinking about getting ready to celebrate Christmas stresses me out.

Added to that, I haven't started my Christmas shopping yet. Normally I'm done by August (yes, I'm one of those), but this year there wasn't room in the budget to start shopping until the payday after Thanksgiving.

But then, as I was walking around the neighborhood with my kids the other night, I noticed that two houses were all ready decorated for Christmas.

My first thought was that the president of my HOA is going to be pissed.

My second thought was Come ON! It's much too early for this.

And then I saw my kids' faces.

They literally looked like Christmas had come early (since it had). Their angel faces were alight with joy and wonder and excitement.

"Look at that," Girlie whispered. "Do you see the magic lights, Brother?"

"Uh-HUH!" Boyo said, shaking his head vigorously. "It's CHISSMAS!"

Hell.

I guess I'm going to start celebrating early this year. And if you had seen the look on my kids' faces, you would too.

But I refuse to decorate until after Thanksgiving.

You know what the problem with holiday cards are? My kids have to be in them.

This year, I got a brilliant idea. I should take a picture of my daughter kissing my son for our Christmas card, I thought. I'm an idiot. I'd clearly forgotten the Valentine's Day fiasco of 2009.

This is what I got:

You would have thought I was torturing Boyo.

The Best Christmas Gift

"You're so brave, Momma."

I think every woman wants to hear that phrase from her children at some point in her life. I know I hoped to hear it some day. But I wasn't expecting to hear it coming from my 2 and a half year old.

Yesterday was Christmas. Yesterday also sucked. My son and daughter are sick, my son is teething (which means I have gotten 2 hours of sleep in the past 48 hours), my family is scattered hither and yon, I had a whining induced headache, and my husband was exhausted because he had been up until 2:30 in the morning wrapping my Christmas presents. So yesterday didn't go exactly as I wanted.

Somewhere in all of this, I had to make a dessert for Christmas dinner with the in laws. I had wanted to make a Chocolate Mocha Creme Trifle. Doesn't that sound delicious? The picture looked great too. But I didn't read the recipe all the way through, so I started to make it at 11. For dinner at 4. When step 12 of the recipe called for refrigerating the trifle for 8-12 hours.

Still, when I got to that step, I gritted my teeth and soldiered on, turning the trifle into a cake instead. I figured a cake wouldn't need to set for 8-12 hours. I put it in the fridge, forgot about it, and went to take a nap.

At 3, I went to pull the trifle-cake out of the fridge.... it was a mess. The icing didn't set properly and there was chocolate mocha creme icing ALL over my fridge. I couldn't handle it. I sank down onto the kitchen floor, fighting back tears. Christmas was not going the way I had foolishly pictured in my head, and now I had f@#%ed up dessert.

My husband gave me a hug, told me he loved me, and manipulated me into the car. We drove by 3 different places, looking for a dessert - all closed. We made it to my in law's empty handed (except for two boxes full of presents), but they were all really cool with it - my sister in law had picked up an ice cream cake, so it worked out.

Back at home that night, my daughter played while I was curled up on the couch, pretending that it wasn't 2 hours past her bedtime. I was exhausted, overwhelmed, and just wanted the damn day to be over. As I thought about the day and how it didn't go the way I wanted, I started to cry. At that point, my daughter came over to me and gave me a hug.

"You're so brave, Momma," she told me, petting my hair. "Don't cry. You okay. I love you too much. You need me kiss it better?"

Naturally, this made me cry harder and laugh at the same time. Her comforting me was completely unexpected. But it was exactly what I needed to hear to make my day better.

Granted, I tell my daughter the same thing exactly every time she gets hurt, or sad, or upset. And I know that she was probably just mimicking my "mommy" behavior when she saw me crying. But I don't care. In that moment, I got a glimpse of the woman she is going to be. And I am so proud of her.