musings of a christmas elf

I LOVE Christmas.  I love everything about it.  I love decorating and buying gifts for people.  I love all of the family events that occur around the time of Christmas; this years events were gingerbread men at the Gaylord Hotel, driving to look at lights, crafting, baking, and going to see Santa.  However, my favorite day is actually Christmas Eve.  I love how quiet it is since we've finished buying, wrapping, decorating, and baking.  I love the focus on Jesus.  I LOVE Christmas Eve service.

My first Christmas Eve service memories were my friend Brent singing "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem" year after year.  I still think of him as I hear that song. As we got older, my youth group friends and I would always sit in the balcony and exchange gifts and would wait until midnight to say "Merry Christmas."  After B. and were in high school, we would go to his service at 7, then go to our friend Pam's house for a party and then on to my church at 11.  I don't remember many of the services though I do remember one particular service at B's church where it was silent prayer after each bible verse.  We prayed silently for sooo long that Brandon's mom leaned over and said, "I have cancer and i"m praying for my hangnail."  It was a sign of a service too long. hehe

Since moving to our home, our Christmas Eve services haven't been the same.  One year we went to the late service and got there 30 minutes early like you have to do at our home churches and we were practically alone and in the front row.  It just wasn't the same with out all of the family and friends.  After A. was born we tried the family service and got there on time.  We sat outside of the sanctuary where people had to keep going in front of us to get to the bathroom... 30ish times.  We couldn't hear anything and we didn't know any of the kids... we didn't get any closer to God from that service.

This year, was a whole new experience.  A. was in the service this year.  She was a shepherd.  According to her, there were too many girls that wanted to be angels and there weren't enough wings.  So, she got a pink shepherd shirt. She wanted to know her name.  I tried to find some names int he bible though surprisingly, I couldn't really find any, even Joseph's brothers weren't named.  Anyway, I finally just settled on some random biblical names that she didn't know.  She was Typhus.

 She was an adorable Typhus.

She was a scared to death, I don't want to wear my head piece, Typhus.  

Then, she turned into a I'm so comfortable up here, I'm going to sit down and take off my shoes Typhus. 

I was a proud mama, tearing up at the "Happy Birthday Jesus song,  that was thanking the Lord for putting us in this church. 

Only in America

We went to go see Santa a few days ago.  Not only did we go see him, but we went to Bass Pro Shops at the closest outlet mall.  Now, are you picturing the type of people that were also vising such a fine establishment?

We got there at about 4:57.  3 minutes before Santa was taking his hour long break for dinner.  We were told that we had to wait until he got back.  But, the family behind us that happened to be large and rather scary looking that were ALL wearing their Ravens jerseys did make the cut.  Apparently, one of them worked there...

We were left with 1 hour to kill before A. could climb on Santa's lap.  A. and B. had a blast.  Here are a few of their great adventures...

there just are no words for this picture

 K. and I quietly obliged them.

About 5:40, I left all of the fun to go stand in line again.  This time, the line was about 15 people deep.  It wasn't too bad but I'm glad the kids weren't standing with me.  Here are my observations...

1. A lady standing in front of me on facebook the ENTIRE time as her daughter proceeded to pull the entire display of camouflage onsies off of the shelf.

2. A shelf full of antifreeze surrounding the play area so that when A. came up she immediately ran over to the pretty pink liquid and tried to open it.

3. A woman that brought 2 different dresses for her child to wear.  I guess, she was going to force her child up there 2 times.  Said child proceeded to run around and cry the entire time and her mother was literally chasing her down the women's clothing aisle.  I don't think that she got her into either of the dresses as she missed her turn.

4. 3 teenagers who went to sit on his lap. They all wanted Kinects.

Now, on to the good...
1. A little boy who write his letter to Santa that said something like, "I want my family to get what they want and be happy."


2. My sweet little girl that was so brave that she walked right up to Santa and sat down.  She asked for Charlie Brown "night nights" and for her brother to have a good day.

Here is A. dropping her letter to Santa in the box. 

 Merry Christmas!!!

mixed messages

We've tried really hard to make this Christmas about Jesus but, we also think it's fun to make believe.  So Santa definitely has a presence.  It's a smaller presence than in most homes, but he is still here never the less.  We have read the true birth of Jesus almost every night.  My child, now has a fear of Herod.  I think she is the only child ever that before she goes to bed asks if there are monsters, ghosts, or King Herod.  Here is a brief conversation that she had tonight as Daddy was putting her to bed.
A. Are you sure that there are no ghostes, monsters, scary things, or things that go like this (she then stretches out her eyes like in imitation of an Asian person)?  -- side note: I have no idea if she is really saying she is scared of Asians and if she is, I have no idea why--

B. I promise you are safe, go to sleep.

A. Does King Herod know where I live?  Is he coming?

B. He isn't coming, he died a long time ago and he lived very far away.

A. Did he live in the north pole?

B. No, that's Santa

A. Oh, because that is really far away too.

The first clue

Maybe the first clue should have been how quiet that it was as A. was playing by herself...

Maybe the first clue should have been the beeping that signals that the refrigerator/ freezer door was left open

Maybe the first clue was that I heard A. tell baby Bella that her lunch was ready soon.

But, I was so happy that A. was playing by herself and letting me get some cleaning done that I didn't go check. See, A. is not an independent player.  She needs others and usually needs adults.  I'm sure this is a product of being in daycare since 10 weeks, being the first born, and having a mother that had such mother's guilt that I spent all my time away from work playing on the floor with her.  Now, I'm only working only 2.5 days and we've gotten rid of the cleaning lady.  So, independent play is a skill that I"m trying to foster. 

Well, maybe some ground rules are necessary...

As it turns out, I was organizing and putting away the toys from our first Christmas gift exchange (a beautiful chore to have to do, but a chore none the less) and A. was setting up an ice cream party for her dolls.  She used a spoon and put a scoop (really only a spoonful) in her toy dishes for each of her dolls.  I believe there were about 10 dolls each with their own bowls.  Now, the next step, she had to eat it for them, obviously.  When I asked her about it later, she said, "I didn't want to leave a melty mess"  Again, obviously...

The best part, I came down to this part of the party.  

She was washing and drying the dishes all by herself.  Gotta love her!!

Lucy

Who is Lucy?

Well, Lucy is anything and everything according to my 3 year old.  She names every doll, fish, and car Lucy.  Here are some of my favorite Lucy's.

1. the elf on a shelf at her school.  I asked her if everyone else calls the elf "Lucy".  She said no, only her.  The others call it Elf.  I guess that is not nearly creative enough for her.

2. The elephants that we say on our way to get a Christmas tree.  Both of them.

3. The 2 stuffed dogs that she alternates taking with her to sleep with at school.

4. Every fish in our aquarium.  But, surprisingly, the fish that we saw at Bass Pro Shops were named Carlisle.

5. Any dog that we pass on the street.

6. The eye doctor that will be checking her eyes next week.

7. The ENT that will be checking K.'s ears next week.

8. Probably all of you that read this blog.

Are you happy?

"Are you happy?"  I must hear this about 25-30 times daily.  A. asks this every time she thinks she has done something wrong.  Here are some from the past 2 days...
1. We are at the dinner table and A. decides to take the bottle that she has made for baby and put it into her glass of milk.  B. has thoroughly explained water displacement theory (seriously) to her several times.  But surprisingly, it seems a little over her head.  "Are you happy, Mommy?" 

2. 5 minutes later after we have cleaned up and gotten her a new glass of milk, A. falls off her chair onto the floor.  Her milk goes with her.  "Are you happy, Mommy?"

3. A. is making macaroni and cheese for baby which includes water in 2 tupperware containers with a few macaroni noodles.  She is dumping one container into the other because, obviously, that is necessary when making macaroni for your doll.  She dumps the entire container on the floor.  "Are you happy, Mommy?"  She then says, "I bet Daddy won't be happy, he hates wet feet."  -- true statement as wet feet are one of B.'s greatest displeasures in life.

4. We are getting ready to go to school this morning and A. would rather play with the dog and with K. than put her shoes on.  "Are you happy, Mommy." 

She sometimes takes this to the next level.  "Mommy, you're not happy, you have those lines between your eye brows."  I guess she knows "the look" though it apparently isn't very effective.

My answers are kind of difficult.  Yes, I am happy because in the grand scheme of things, I don't really care about spilled milk or shoes in a timely manner.  But, usually, she is asking the question because she knows what she is doing is not the best idea.  I tried explaining happy and frustrated at the same time but just like water displacement theory, this seems a bit over her head.  So, for now, we'll go with the simple answer of "no" and then turn my back and laugh.

How can you not be happy with these two cuties as your kids?

 

that face

Nature vs. nurture?

K. 9 months

A. 10 months

Why did both of my kids make this crazy face? 

St. Nick

Last year A. was just starting to "get" Christmas.  She knew it was a special time of year and was excited on Christmas morning.  This year, she is into it.  But, I am happy to say that she does realize that it is Jesus's birthday and her favorite Christmas thing to do is use her nativity to act out the story while I read the Christmas Story.  Last year was also our first year that we had a St. Nick's Day party.  To me, this romantic idea will let the kids know that Santa is around at Christmas time because he celebrated Jesus by giving gifts to those in need.  Over the years, he has made it his mission to give to everyone and spread God's love, just like we should.

Well, like I said, its somewhat a romantic idea for a kid to comprehend.  I spent time researching on www.stnicholascenter.org and found an abundance of traditions from different countries.  So, here was my vision of the party on Dec 6. 
1. Our friends down the street would come over and we would make "letter" cookies -- a German st. Nicholas tradition
2. We would eat a pork chop recipe that I alwo found on that website and talk about how it was food that the real st.Nicholas used to eat
3. We would read a book about the real Santa (I recommend Saint Nicholas by Julie Stiegemeyer because the rest are too old for the preschoolers)
4. We would play a game of pass the parcel aka hot potato and the winner would share the gift just like St. Nicholas would.

Here is how the night went...
1. Only one of the kiddos was interested in baking with me, the rest wanted to play with toys that we have out year round.

2. I did read the story but with about a billion "A. are you listening" throughout because she was so happy to have all of her friends that she couldn't listen (she has since read it about 13 times and I think gets the point)
3. Only A. would eat the food as it wasn't exactly kid friendly.  Though the other parents and I enjoyed it
4. We never played the game so we played it after the party.  After an obviously rigged game where A. was really confused as to why you did not want to keep the present in your lap, she reluctantly gave us each some disgusting candy that I did eat to rove a point though lets put it on the record that tootsie rolls and dots are disgusting.

So, overall, I think they all had a good time playing with their friends.  We'll keep trying on the love one another. 

9 months

My little man is now 9 months old.  He is still the most laid back baby ever.  He laughs and smiles most of the day except when A. is trying to hold him.  He is fantastic and in to everything.  Here are a few of his favorite things...

waving "hello", "good bye", "haven't seen you in a few minutes", "I'm happy"... He pretty much waves 24/7

power cords.  I think that he remembers where they are from day to day.  I am CONSTANTLY chasing him away from power cords.

Its a good thing the love of cords came at the same time as Christmas.  It makes life really easy.  hehe  Don't worry, before you call CPS, I removed him from the cord immediately after the picture

A., though he doesn't like to be held by his sister, he follows her around all day. 

I don't have pictures of these other things but...
Dog food- I think I chase him away from the dog bowl at least 15 x while I'm making dinner.  That doesn't count the other meals or the other times he is ... awake
Balloons- My dad had a mylar balloon for his birthday and K. crawled with it attached to his back for hours/ days.
 Food- my boy eats and eats and eats.  He now eats whatever we do, we just cut it up in small pieces. he even eats more adult foods... hummus, chicken stew, spaghetti, edamame.  He has eclectic taste.  However, he was only in the 25% for weight.

Things he does not like....
car seat
coats
being held to he can't crawl
lying on his back.  It is practically a magic trick to get his diaper changed.

K., I love to be your mom!! You have brought me so much happiness!!

carrying on

When B. was growing up, his mom made his advent calendar by stringing candy onto numbered ribbons and placing them in his stocking.  Christmas Eve was always a small toy.  Apparently, as b. got older, his mom said it was too much work to attach numbers to the end of each ribbon so she stopped adding them; there was then just ribbons and candy.  According to B. it was better that way.  Well, since this was our first year, we decided to do the labels.  By we, I mean that A. and I started as a team and she finished about 4 or 5 and then got bored so I finished the rest.  But, the tradition was started.  Now, someone just remind me not to have a fire in the fireplace so we don't have melted chocolate all over the stockings!

adding candy to ribbons

we had to use reese's cups and pink, green, and blue ribbon.  Her only requests

the best part, dumping the candy into the stocking

adding stickers onto the number tags

the finished product

Add caption

the polygamist

My little one is still in a marriage phase.  She has been talking about marrying daddy for weeks now.  So, today, she dressed up, made her bouquet, and surprised Daddy when he got home from work.  She could NOT wait until he got home.  Finally, he got here and she ran upstairs to get her beautiful white dress (courtesy of my 5th grade teacher, Ms. Moore) before he knew what was happening.  Here is my little bride surprising her daddy 

Her fantastic daddy then went upstairs and got on his groom clothes.  Here is their ceremony

She then wanted a party.  It was a movie party where they toasted and then watched the movie of the wedding on the computer.  Brandon had red wine, A. had grape juice.  A. didn't spill on her white dress.  B. spilled on his suit.  You can't take him anywhere, even his wedding to a 3 year old. 

no more monsters

Since we came back from Thanksgiving at B.'s grandparents house, A. has been scared to go to bed.  She all of a sudden thinks there are monsters or "ghostses" that will come.  The first night, she was awake from 2:00 am to 4:00 am crying and wanting us to sleep with her.  The second night she had a hard time laying down.  I think we are rounding the corner because each night since has gotten a little bit better.  But, her conversations throughout the day have revolved around monsters.

We got out most of our Christmas decorations yesterday including a nativity that sits above my mantel.  She asked to play with it so I agreed.  She was naming all of the people and having them talk to each other.  I went in to check on her and realized what she was saying...

rule #1

There is a rule in my house... messes are ok, but you have to clean them up.  A. recites this rule on a daily basis.  She is typically loves cleaning up and actually, cleaning in general.  She mops, swiffers, puts dishes away... well, depending on the day.  On this particular day, we were putting away the fall decorations to get ready for the Christmas decorations.  She made a scarecrow with Oma around Halloween so we had a discussion that the scarecrow, Lenny, was now ready to go into the trash.  So, she set out to take out the hay and put it in a trash bag so we could save the clothes for another year.  I walked away to be with K. for a minute and this is what I came back to....

Hay all over the floor

with little tiny, tiny pieces just perfect for K. to put in his mouth.

A. was singing, "messes are ok, ok, ok, messes are ok, yes they are.  We just have to clean them, clean them, clean them, we just have to clean them, yes we do."

This was her introduction to using the dyson.  She's a pro now.

scribbling disaster

This morning, K. was sleeping so I got A. some crayons and her coloring book so that I could go take a shower.  She immediately said, "I can't do that."  A little confused, I persisted.  Again, "I can't do that."  So, I thought it was because she didn't want to stay downstairs while I was showering.  I stopped trying to convince her to do something by herself and simply asked why.  Her answer broke my heart.  To sum it up, she didn't want to color because a little boy at school told her she scribbled and didn't color.  So, I decided it was more important to color than to shower.  I tried to color sitting next to her with the idea that I would color and tell her what a great job she was doing.  Instead, she cried and cried and only wanted to color on top of the parts that I already colored.  Well, that wasn't going to solve anything so I wouldn't let her have my paper.  Apparently, I picked the wrong battle because she had a HUGE meltdown and would not touch the paper until we switched papers.  I then compromised by outlining the paper and letting her color in between.  She made the tinniest, tiniest marks in the center of the paper so that she wouldn't draw out of the lines.  Any time that poor little thing went over my lines, she had tears rolling down her face.  I was at a loss, and am still at a loss as to how to tell her that 3 year old little girls color outside of the lines.  She did finish her picture and I think it looked great.  Then we decided to draw in her scribble book, where she is supposed to scribble.  I don't know about her, but I don't feel better.  And, I want to scribble all over that little boy's face.  There you have it...

back to the beginnings

A. has been quite into weddings since we went to a wedding a few weeks ago (Congrats Kerry and Joey!!!).  Anyway, while Daddy was away golfing, A. and I watched our wedding video.  I don't know what we paid that videographer, not much since it was his first shot, but it was worth every single penny.

Here are my favorite quotes:
A- "Mommy, you are the BEST bride." 
A.- "Mommy, how did your hair get so big."
A- "Where do brides get their clothes?"
A- "When I get bigger and marry Daddy, can I wear that bride dress?"

A- "Look, Gram is there to dance with Gramps.  She's so pretty."
A- "Why was Aunt Pam crying?"

 Scene- me on the dance floor with some of the people from my church youth group.
A- "Where is daddy?"
Me- "I don't know." 
A- "Oh, probably getting a drink."

A- "When can I marry daddy?"-- I answered that I already married Daddy and that so no one else could marry him.  I told her that we promised God and all our family that we would love each other forever.  Her answer-- "Was God at your wedding?"

girls are more better

A. thinks girls are "more better" than boys, B. thinks boys are better than girls.  A. is 3, B. is 30, they argue.  A. says girls are "more better" because they can paint their nails.  B. says, they feel pressure to paint nails so boys are better.  A. says girls are more better because they have long hair.  B. says boys are better because they don't have to mess with their hair. A. says girls are more better because they get to be brides.  She followed up with, "I will be a bride when I get bigger and I can marry daddy.  I'll paint my nails and braid my hair so I can look pretty."  He said no more.

Daddy and A. at 1 day old

A. and Daddy on his birthday (7 months)

Daddy and A. at 10 months

A. and Daddy on Halloween, age 2

A. and Daddy checking out a rainbow 3 years

A. sharing her daddy with K.

always a mom

It is fair to say that once a person becomes a mother, their children are never far from their minds.  We may escape for a few hours for work or a few days for vacation, or even a few months while our children are in college, but our kids are a part of us that never goes away.  As a mom of a breast feeding infant, this goes beyond thoughts to actual physical importance.  I can not be away from K for longer than 4 hours with out pumping.  I lock myself in a room at work with a computer print out that says "busy" for 15 minute increments 2-3 times daily.  It's not uncommon for me to pull up in my parkinglot at home and remove my breast pump before going inside.  Needless to say, I am used to this after kid #2 and I've pretty much lost my modesty.  However, this week B. and I were granted a FABULOUS vacation by John Deere, one of his vendors, so we flew to Arizona for 4 days.  I,of course, had to bring my pump.  I got to the airport and expected there to be somewhere in the vast terminals for me to go to pump.  I was wrong.  The best I found was the corner of the bathroom by the changing area so I could rest my pump and plug it in to the wall.  Besides the germiness of a public bathroom, this didn't bother me.  However, the mother with her 8 year old that asked, "what is that lady doing to her boobs?", may have a different opinion of my options.  4 hours later, we were only half way into our flight.  It was time to pump... I asked the stewardess and she said, "hhhmmm, well we will figure this out."  The bathroom wasn't a very good option since the other 100ish people didn't want to hold their bladders for 20 extra minutes while I tied up the room.  And, we know they would have held their bladders longer since they would not want to be the first to enter the bathroom that was held up for 20 minutes.  So, she and another flight attendant stood with their back to me as I stood in the corner of the back of the plane.  The pump rested on the door handle which I did question a few minutes into the process since I didn't think the pump would make a really good parachute.  She reassured me that I was not falling out of the plane, I was securely stuck in the corner, kind of like time out.  I did learn a few things...
1. flight attendants get to pick their flights and most only fly a few times a week.
2. the pilot of the plane was a father but told the flight attendant that he liked flying better and "wasn't really into the whole parenting thing."  I wanted to cry for his child
3. The 2nd flight attendant blocking me, who happened to be male, had 3 children who were very colicky until they started feeding them goat's milk.  Interesting...
4. my love for my son is great, my love for breast feeding is decreasing

Gramps perspective

Having watched my two sports-minded boys grow into adulthood, and having made more than a few trips to the hospital for broken bones and an assortment of stitches, performed late night car rescues, and held bleeding toddlers over the sink so the carpet wasn’t ruined, I have the thick skin of a veteran parent.  My grandson K was only born 7 months ago and doesn’t particularly care how smart I am, so when I picked him up after his swan dive face plant into the parking lot and tried to cover my guilt with “it will be OK, you’re fine,” well, he just wasn’t buying it.

Perhaps I should explain…

It all started an hour or two before, after we had successfully gotten both A and K into their Halloween costumes and delivered them (on time no less!) to a church fall festival party and “Trunk or Treat” in the parking lot.   Trunk or Treat is when folks decorate the trunks of their cars (some very elaborately decorated BTW) and the kids go from car to car through the parking lot  collecting candy.  A was dressed in a mini-diva cute pink leopard costume and made her way through the games and fun in the church social hall under the protective eye of Granny J, while K was in an adorable monkey suit and hung out with Gramps, who were both sitting quietly and enjoying the general commotion all around us.  At the appointed time everyone poured into the parking lot and set up the displays in their trunks.   We had candy to give away to the kids and only a set of golf clubs for our trunk, so as A and Granny J went from car to car collecting candy, Gramps, no creative genius but with a monkey in hand and an open trunk, put two and two together and soon the “monkey in the trunk” became quite a popular place among the Trunk or Treat set.

Being good grandparents we took a picture of the monkey in the trunk, and then another, and as we were looking at the pictures we did not realize that K was planning his escape. But K can’t walk or even crawl, but he can move, and he can move fast. And so in an instant he pushed over the lip of the trunk and was on his way down, head first.   And as I scooped him up and checked him for serious damage with a  veteran eye,  he was quiet, and for 2-3 seconds as he gathered his wind he listened as I told him “it will be OK, you’re fine.” He didn’t buy it; he didn’t buy it  AT ALL!!  I tried to reassure K, Granny J and myself that he would be OK. Granny J would have none of it, and Googled “baby fall” when she wasn’t demanding that I dial 9-11.

The only thing worse than those next few minutes of K’s wailing (OK, half hour) were having to call K’s parents later that night and tell them. “Yeah, out of the trunk…no, no bleeding… but his face is scratched and bruised…no, he didn’t hit his head… A was great, she sang songs to him in the car because she said sometimes that helps if he’s upset.”

K about to take his nose dive

So K came through it without any lasting effects and will probably not remember a thing.   K’s  parents are turning into veteran parents.  Gramps and Granny J are rookie grandparents and will never forget.  K will be walking soon.

Granny J.'s perspective

A. on the quilt made of Gram's clothes at age 6 weeks.

Granny J. and Gramps watched A. and K. while we were gone last weekend.  Here is her perspective of the journey.  Stay tuned for Gramp's version in the next few days.  And, thanks Granny J. and Gramps.  We appreciate you soooo much!! 

A lot of people ask me what it’s like to be a grandma while skipping that whole kid-raising thing (believe it or not, that’s not unusual.  I have several friends who are in the same situation).  After the usual jokes about how easy – and unfair – it is to leapfrog right over the hard part to the fun of grandkids, it’s been more of a journey than might be imagined.

I love my grandkids and would gladly cut off my right arm to keep them from any harm.   Actually that’s a metaphor, since I’d be limbless already, but you get what I mean.  Still, when Sarah asked us to watch A and K for 24 hours while they attended a wedding last weekend, I was confounded as to what to do with them. I calculated the math, determining down to the minute when they would sleep and nap, and figuring out what to do with them in the remaining minutes.  Still, I fretted.

“What are we going to do with them for 24 hours?” I wailed to my husband Mike.  Mike and his wife Leslie (Brandon’s mother), who had raised both him and his younger brother Pat, looked at me like I had a tooth growing out of my ear. 

“I can do it myself if you don’t want to do it,” he grumbled. To be fair, I asked him in the middle of that historic fourth game of the World Series. 

I turned to my friend Holly, who is also a kid-less grandma.

“What are you going to do with them for 24 hours?” she asked me.

D-Day came.  We arrived on a Sunday, in time for Sarah and Brandon to leave at 9 a.m.   We stayed and talked until 10:30 a.m.

 

Another hour and a half less of worrying about what to do with them.

Sarah and Brandon left.  A and I decided to call my mom.  She would know what to do.

“A and I are making cookies and then we’re taking her to her church for a Halloween event,” I told my mom.  “I don’t know what to do after that.”  

I waited for my salvation.

Mom laughed.  “I wouldn’t know what else to do either.  I was never very good at that stuff.”

I was alone.

After A’s nap she decided I needed a nap.  She told me to lie on her bed and then she put a blanket over me and shut the door as she left the room.

I lay on the bed, grateful for the break (5 more minutes!) when I realized that I was covered in no ordinary blanket.  It was the blanket made from Leslie’s favorite shirts, made for the granddaughter she’d never met.

You should know that I’ve been on somewhat of a spiritual exploration, thinking about what kind of grandma I wanted to be for my grandkids, what kind of wife and stepmom, and how to contribute to the family in spite of my lack of ability or interest in the traditional expectations of a grandma.  I was also on the lookout for metaphors, symbols and instructions that, I believe, appear to help you on your journey, if you only ask for it and are open to seeing them.

I knew I was literally covered in the wisdom of someone who loved this family more than any woman ever has.  This was no coincidence, I realized.  I relaxed on the bed and let the blanket cover me, letting her wisdom and love for this family envelop and guide me.

I was not alone after all.

strengths and weaknesses

My good friend Jackie once told me that your biggest strength is also your biggest weakness.  I contemplated that for awhile and have found it true in most cases.  I think my biggest strength (disclaimer, if you have had me in a job interview or will ever have me in a job interview, you will hear this same answer) is my attention to detail.  In the workplace, I think this works wonders because I am great at program development, logistics, and even observations of my patients.  However, I often miss the big picture because I'm so focused on the details.  At home, I plan out things to do, have supplies, and even plan our grocery list based on coupons and the sale at Safeway.  However, sometimes I get bogged down in what needs to be done and don't spend enough time soaking in my kids or our family.


I'm sure that over time, the strengths and weaknesses of my children will change and evolve, but as of now, their strengths influence their weaknesses.

1. A.'s is her intensity.  She loves more intensely than most people.  I felt such pride as I watched her move my sister-in-law to tears when she left her playing to come over and sing to K. when he was fussy.  When I'm gone for a day, she will call and say, "I'm missin you" and I thouroughly believe her.  She said a prayer tonight for our friend Bennett down the street because he was sick a week ago and she was still thinking about it.  She still prays for her old teacher, Ms. Sheila, every night because she knows she had surgery on her leg 5 months ago.  However,  this intensity dominates a room... ALL THE TIME.  That pride that I felt last night then made me leave in tears because I couldn't even sit and enjoy a 5 minute conversation with the same sister in law that I hadn't seen in 2 months. All I heard was "Mommy, Mommy, Mommy" from the room upstairs where I laid A. down foolishly thinking she may fall asleep.  It had one of my closest friends say, "I don't envy you" (don't worry, I know it was said out of love.) today after A. directed the other children in the church nursery as to what they could and couldn't play with and held the toys of her choosing hostage.  This side of the intensity needs to be taught compassion and kindness and this detail oriented mama needs to learn how to instill this.

2. K.'s strength/ weakness is the exact opposite.  His is his flexibility.  Perhaps this has to be his characteristic because of his domineering sister, but he is the most chill baby ever created.  My friends often joke at family dinner if they hear a peep out of him because he is typically so laid back.  He goes with our days and revolves his sleep around as necessary.  However, this flexibility makes a schedule nonexistent.  It makes it very difficult when people watch him and want to know when to feed him and when to put him down for a nap.  Its hard to tell someone that isn't with him every day to listen for his high pitched cry to lay him down and his goat like whimper to feed him.  Perhaps the biggest issue is we don't know when he'll be tired at night and how long he will sleep. Sometimes, he is ready for bed at 6:00, sometimes 8:00.  Sometimes he sleeps all night, sometimes he is up 3 times.  It's unpredictable.

    
In addition to the 3 other confessions I've made via this blog, I have yet another confession.. I never read a single book about parenting.  I have read umpteen books on child development and behavior for my undergraduate and graduate degrees, but none on parenting.  When my children were born, I figured I would be a blend of somewhat knowing what to do, somewhat doing what my parents did, and somewhat flying by the seat of my pants.  So far, I think B. and I have been pretty successful, but I don't know how to make my detail oriented, not always seeing the big picture self support the strength side of my children all while nurturing the weaker side. So, I'm now reading 2 books simultaneously, Parenting by the Book, and Healthy Sleep, Happy Child.  I don't know if it will make a difference or magically give me the answers to promote a sleeping yet flexible child and an intensely loving yet patient child but I will try to be looking at the big picture that this is just a detail in the huge picture of their lives.

your wish is my command

Since this is one of my very favorite pictures of A. It is still framed on our wall.  People always comment on and those same people asked if we were going to do the same thing with K.  Here is the difference between my children:

A. at 6 weeks.  Very unhappy in her pumpkin

K. at 7 months.  He is one with his pumpkin.  He probably sat in there for 15 minutes smiling and looking around.

Now, the fun begins:

 A. decided she also wanted in the pumpkin that is also on top of the art table.  I'm sure you see where this is going... She had her picture taken and then promptly fell off the back of the table.  I think this is the order of the next chain of events...
1. I plopped K. on the floor and ran to her. 
2. K. immediately started screaming because he was scared from A.'s screaming. 
3. B. dropped the camera to run over. 
4. Since I had A. and could tell she was going to be fine, I was trying to direct him to pick up the pumpkin so it didn't get ruined all the while yelling because he dropped the camera. 
5. B. couldn't hear me over the crying so was saying, "what, what, what." 
6. That then made me talk louder so I think our neighbors were thinking they should call the cops because someone was dying or that we were putting on a haunted house. 
7. A. stopped crying and asked us if we were alright and if she could please have some ice.

All for the sake of a picture!

Here are some beauties of the pumpkin carving adventure...
 

yell "fish"

I have a confession... I am cheap.  I LOVE yard sales and consignment sales.  My kids have mostly used toys and clothes, and they don't know any different.  So, when my friend Emily found A. this puppet show stage for A. at a yard sale, I was really excited.  It will foster creativity, its recycling, and it was cheap.  To boot, this particular puppet stage also came with some puppets. Now, here comes the problem with used toys.  The finger puppets are a knight, a dinosaur, a dog, a shrek like monster, 2 long haired girls, and then a dog hand puppet.  Interesting...  We got out this stage today to put on a show outside.  I challenged A. to put on a show with all of the puppets.  I was really interested to see what she could come up with.  Here is her show












Let me set the scene:  a lizard finger puppet and dog hand puppet are held up on the stage.  A.'s head is fully visable as well.

A. When you see a fish, yell "fish."

long pause....
Me as I realize she is waiting for me to yell:  I don't see a fish.
A. When you see a fish, yell "fish"
Me:  you have a lot of puppets and none are a fish.  I won't see a fish
A. Just yell fish
Me: fish
A. (no puppets have moved) when you see a cow, yell "cow"

yelling "cow"  I still don't see one!!

Me (laughing yet looking at her like she's crazy): Again, you don't have a cow.  I won't see one
A:(yelling at the top of her lungs) "cow", "horse", "boy"
Me: Is this the puppet show because no puppet is moving?

Well, that was the end of the performance because she then decided she wanted to be a puppet and climb into the stage.  So, she still has some time for her acting and play writing to develop before I send her to Hollywood.  See now, I am thankful that it was a used toy.

yep, we're doing it

K. checking out a pumpkin his own size

"One of the marks of a certain type of bad man is that he cannot give up a thing himself without wanting every one else to give it up. That is not the Christian way. An individual Christian may see fit to give up all sorts of things for special reasons--marriage, or meat, or beer, or the cinema; but the moment he starts saying the things are bad in themselves, or looking down his nose at other people who use them, he has taken the wrong turning."- C.S. Lewis

I like Halloween for kids.  I haven't been a fan as an adult, I feel like an idiot in a costume and I'm a loser that likes to go to bed early rather than drink away the fact that I feel like an idiot.  But, I like it for my children.  I love how excited that A. is to wear one of her costumes day after day for the weeks leading up to Halloween.  I like little snickers bars and mounds bars, I like pumpkins, and I like meeting more of our neighbors.  To me, it was never a question. I never researched Halloween, I never tried to "make the decision"  It wasn't a decision to be made.  But, I was actually asked the question this week by one of the parents of a kid that I treat.  We decided not to hold our cooking group from 3:30-4:30 since I'm sure some of my kiddos would rather be at home donning their fairy wings and super hero capes. She said, "I'm surprised you are cancelling group next week since you are a Christian."  I was VERY caught off guard since 1) I was at work where I am very guarded about my faith with the exception of the cross I sometimes wear around my neck 2) in my mind, one has nothing to do with the other.  Why does everything have to be such a decision instead of a fun time?    


I guess it did make me question the basis of the holiday though I still never questioned if A. could wear her pink leopard costume and still love Jesus.  So, here is what I learned (this is a summary from www.history.com, I'm not an expert nor claiming to be) 
 Origin- The first celebrations started as the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain on Nov. 1, the end of the harvest season.   The Celts believed that on the night before the new year, our land and the after life blurred together and people who died returned to earth.  It was believed that these ghosts would cause trouble to the crops but would also allow the priests to make predictions about the future. They built bonfires to burn crops and sacrifice animals all while wearing costumes and telling each other's fortunes. 

Evolution #1- year 740- The Pope decided to move the feast of All Martyrs Day from May to November 1, probably to replace the Celtic festival with a related but church- sanctioned holiday. The combination holiday was celebrated similarly to Samhain, with big bonfires, parades, and dressing up in costumes as saints, angels and devils.
Evolution #2- mid 19th century- Halloween comes to America- Celebrations were public events to celebrate the harvest.  Neighbors would share stories of the dead, tell each other's fortunes, dance and sing.
Evolution #3- mid 1900's- Immigrants were coming from everywhere but many from Ireland to flee the potato famine.  People would dress up and ask for food or money.-- so begins trick or treating
Evolution #4- 1950's- Trick or treating was revived and changed to give small treats to ward off the mischief that had started to surround the holiday.

So, my more educated decision to the nonquestion is this community holiday is pretty far from its origins though it has been influenced by people of faith.  I recognize that I got all of my information from 1 source going against a strict rule by my 10th grade English teacher, but I am more convinced that I can hand out candy and still be a Christian.  So, we will go to the fall festival hosted by the church down the street, go to trunk or treat hosted by our church, go to A.'s parade at her school, and then finish it off with trick or treating.  Then we'll come home on a sugar high and say our prayers before we go to bed.    

A. painting her pumpkins that she got from bible school today

K.'s reaction to being told he can't go trick- or treating... or his response to spinach... hhhmmm