Belated holiday wishes and continued traditions

When your last holiday card is epic, it's a hard act to follow. When you used to write regularly, and now barely every - it's hard to think of what to do next. 

But you can't very well give up now, can you? 

Christmas Spectacular

Christmas time is full of magic, wonder, and amazement. One of our most favorite times of the year. If I had to guess, it's probably one of the most talked about topic on this blog. I mean other than moving and straight up crazy things that only happen to us.

This year was important & unique. Important because the girls are strong with their belief and it was baby boy's first Christmas. Unique because Thanksgiving was late & shortly after the big day we were jetting off for a vacation. This is important to note because the pressure to start Christmas came on strong the very weekend after Thanksgiving.  While there was still turkey leftovers to be had - it was a tree that was top of mind. The first day we could, we were off to find a tree. We found a tree, but I thought it was too small. I like a big tree. We have 6 million ornaments and enough space to get a big full tree. This particular tree? While it looked perfect, looked short to me. But my husband felt strongly it was big enough. The guy on the tree lot? Also spent time convincing me that the tree was big enough. Both tried to convince me of our ceiling height, neither having ever measured the actual height of the ceiling. I agreed, I knew better, but I agreed.  We got adorable pictures. And maybe it was a success...

We got the tree home, cut off the netting and as it fanned out we quickly realized I was right. More accurately the ball & chain was wrong. And I'll be honest with you, this wasn't my finest moment. Queue: adult sized temper tantrum. I knew I was right. We weren't going to be able to use half of our ornaments, how will we choose? I can't believe how wrong he was? Why did you fight so hard for something wrong?

Christmas time is full of magic, wonder and amazement. And apparently throwing a plastic water container clear across the house.

We took a gamble. Next time measuring - and wouldn't you know? The tree stand took the tree back. And the magic was back...

Until it wasn't. And the tree we got was too big. We didn't have enough lights. And those that we did have? Half went out.

Maybe you'd think - this is the end of the story. And maybe this is the first post you've ever read here. I went on to trip the tree, create several holiday displays throughout the house. 

 And finally, it was Christmas time. It was full of magic, wonder and amazement.

Until it wasn't. 

The bigger they are. The harder they fall. 

We lost a lot. But we gained a new tree stand. Which required a bit more tree trimming. 

Do your lights hang low? Do they wobble to and fro? They do when you have to further cut the tree to fit in the new stand. You know. So it stops toppling over.

 And finally, it was Christmas time. It was full of crooked magic, wonder and amazement.

I gave the kid $10 for a field trip. Told her to bring back change. She brought back 7 cents.

She used most of her/my money to get me a Christmas present. The rest? A mood ring. Because of course. This morning I opened an ornament. "in memory of this year! So we remember how the tree fell on you." It's a glass one. Like most that we lost. And she is the best. The end. 

Until it was over.

... and to all a good night!

We triple-dog-dare you to have a merry Christmas

Perhaps my lack of posting can be forgiven with holiday wishes.

Holiday cards in 2013? Nailed.It.*


*Except for those folks who haven't seen "A Christmas Story." For those people: they were confused as to why we would dress the kid up as the Easter Bunny, they missed out. Mostly in life, because it's a classic and they should see it. But also? The card. 


 

A magical Easter

Holy delay, Batman... err Bunnyman, as it were. 

Here's what I know about Easter:

• I know that it's not really about bunnies, eggs or scavenger hunts.
• We usually go to church, and a better part of me feels like we need to go regularly verses holidays.
• We most certainly didn't go this year. To keep the beast JJ still for 10 minutes, let alone an hour would take a miraculous event, indeed.



I believe this gets filed under: WTF.

• All of that said, the kids? Big fan of the bunnies, the eggs and the hunts.

Time out: what is UP with the bunny thing. I get chocolate bunnies (indirectly/kinda). But what's up with packaging a real bunny up in a cage... to then eat?

Time in: onto the magic.

This year, we decorated eggs without the baby, for the most part. We left her one egg and it was pure joy for her. Pure. Magic. This year, we were reminded that you can have the simplest of activities and win. 100%.

Note to self:

1. Keep it simple. While I appreciate all the wonderful, natural and/or complicated possibilities of decorating a damn egg - freaking Pinterest - they have egg decorating packages on the cheap for a reason. $2.50 a box? Don't mind if I do. I will say, I read somewhere (freaking, Pinterest) that if you add more tabs you get brighter colors. So I went for more than one box. And it worked. It didn't matter though, all the eggs turned a green or blue - because eventually every egg was dropped in a blue or a green. The kid couldn't leave well enough alone. No egg was ever truly "done." It was like a Pringle... once she started popping she just couldn't stop.
2. A clean work area is a happy mom. Or whatever the saying is. Boxes. Boxes man. In the last few weeks I've used boxes for creative mornings, getting my car out of mud - and now a table top to decorate the eggs. There is going to be spilling. And if you consider the baby? There is going to be splashing. The box down on the table top? Just totally kept the stress level in check. And clean up? WAY easy.
3. Hoarding helps. I have longed hinted at my label in this house as a hoarder. But I tell you, it has it's benefits (if you can remain semi-organized). I mean, the boxes alone have been invaluable. Beyond that I save the same grass where I can, Easter baskets, plastic eggs - all the makings of what we need for our festivities without waste or unnecessary cost.
4. Free is good. Some years the Easter Bunny and Santa seem to be at odds, in some kind of competition. I He doesn't like to over do it with the candy, so a few little treats or prizes typically turns into an unwieldy amount of goodies from the Easter Bunny. This year, we I he didn't go too crazy. With an upcoming trip to Disney, it was reasonable & just things the kids needed with one extra or two little extras. Things I would get anyway and some real necessities. Yea, the Easter Bunny got straight necessity this year and gave socks & underwear. The kids made a bunny out of a toilet paper roll for cuteness-sake with craft supplies already in the house.
   
   The best parts of the day,  were totally free.

• A tradition we have is a scavenger hunt, just like the ball & chain had as a child. Rather than written clues, as he remembers, we the Easter Bunny hides plastic eggs (see hoarding benefits). In each egg there is a clue to the next spot. At the end of the scavenger hunt the kids find their Easter basket. The clues are a picture of where the next egg is. This year, since the kid is starting to catch on faster we the Easter Bunny got a little more abstract with the photo hints.  For example, instead of including a picture of the small ottoman in the living room, there was a picture of the pattern of the ottoman. It's a great, simple, fun, and practically free bit of fun. Big hit. Each year, after she's done the kid usually wants to "do it again."

• This year, I think a new tradition was born. In the move we cleared out a lot of stuffed animals. The thought was to donate a lot, but it's never actually gotten out of the house. Not a win, in intent. That said, it worked in our favor in the column of magic. Every bunny that was previously tagged for donation and each bunny that was in their room was unearthed. In the morning, as the kids (well really just L cause JJ didn't really get on board) ran through the house and upon walking in the play room the scene was intense. Well, to an adult - totally creepy. But magical to the babes and that's what mattered. JJ even participated in their tea party. I mean. Come.On.

One day, they won't believe. And when that day comes, I'll be sad. Bright side? I'll be excited that there will not be hours of set up for 20 minutes of action. The math doesn't add up.  Scavenger hunts take time. Staging takes time. Hiding eggs? The ones that go bad, complicated in the morning. Doing it all quietly as to not stir suspicion? Even more time. I hope though, when it's all over, they remember these little snapshots of magic. Creepy bunnies & all.

Our story of Christmas Eve

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a present was wrapped especially for the spouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
While the kid freaked if St Nicholas would ever be there.

The kids were worried not snug in their beds,
While visions of lost Santas danced in their heads.
And mamma with her beer all cold in a can,
Had accepted her fate of not sleeping; not a big fan. 

When up in our room there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my seat to see what was the matter.
Away from the pile of toys I was midst,
Tore open a storage box and threw up a fist.

The reality of running out of paper and tape was clear,
It's too freaking bad I didn't buy enough this year.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But only one dispenser and eight packing tape spheres.

With a little bit of patience, so rare for this chick,
I knew in a moment I wanted a St Nick.
To come to my house and wrap these presents for me,
I'd be lying if I said I didn't have the thought to flee!

Now toys! now, movies! now, mittens and socks!
On, dolls! On, paints! On clothing with no box!
To the bottom of the tree! to the top of the wall!
Now wrap away! Wrap away! Wrap away all!

And then, in a twinkling, I heard right beside me,
The placement of the final gift under the tree.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
this wretched task was done and it was time to lay down.

My eyes-how they twinkled! My heart oh how merry!
My cheeks were like roses, my nose like a cherry!
I'd like to say it was the Christmas cheer,
but I think we all know - I probably had too much beer.

The pile of presents they were all finally wrapped,
If one more was delivered, the mail man would be slapped.
It wouldn't be pretty if he came by one more time,
I'd probably spend the holiday convicted of a crime.

Back to reality, I thought, did we get everything?
God damn it Alessandro that Elf on the Shelf.
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
How I'm glad we didn't name him Chippy or Fred.

I sprang to my feet, to get my ass to bed,
And thought of how long I'd sleep, those kids I did dread.
But I heard the ball & chain say, ironic & trite,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

Christmas Eve - decoded

Me/ "L, you want to write a letter to Santa?"
Her/ "Um, nah."
Me/ "You don't want to tell him anything?  Thank him for coming?"
Her/ "Well, I would like to tell him I hope he enjoys the cookies."

Maybe you aren't reading it the way she said it - but what freaking five year old says she hopes he enjoys the cookie? She had a slight British accent when she said it. Who IS this kid?

She also needed to ask him about was the chimney situation we have. We have a fireplace in our bedroom and one in our living room. We sound fancy, don't we? Something you should know: neither work which drives.me.bananas. The one in the living room that I stare at on the regular particularly irritates me because not only does it not work, but it's a gas fireplace. And I don't know. I don't understand gas fireplaces (sorry). I don't mind them.  I think people should get what they like, but I like a mess. The smell of wood burning. The real deal. Instead I have a pho fireplace that doesn't even do me right by not taking up space. It's large. In charge. And just for looking at and how could you not see it? It's huge. WHICH I would love, if it would work.

I digress.

We have two fireplaces, which means two chimneys in her head. I didn't really want to get into the fact that they share the same chimney. She was obsessed.

What if he goes in your room? What will you do? Will you be scared? If I hear you scream, what if I forget it could be Santa and I come to your room?? Will he use the stairs to get in the living room? Will he leave the presents in your room? Will he go back up to come back down? What will happen if he goes down the wrong chimney????

She got stuck on it, I was worried (terrified) she wouldn't go to sleep. This was problematic.  I may or may not have been ONE present wrapped. She could hypothesize all night long about how the big man was going to choose the right chimney. If she didn't hush it and go to sleep that bastard wouldn't be able to wrap a single one of those packages. And by that bastard I mean me and the ball&chain. Oh and PS I didn't have one of his gifts wrapped either. And he had many a gift to wrap. MANY. Oye. Oh and the kids. Between Santa, us, the generosity of family.... I anticipating seeing the sun come up. We have been receiving deliveries to our house for weeks. And for weeks, I've been saying "I should start wrapping."

We solved the chimney issue by having her include it in the letter and explain that Santa knows which one to choose. Worst case scenario, (if you don't freaking go to sleep you will have nothing to open. NOTHING I say!) he'll figure out where the tree is. Think about it, not everyone has a chimney- he has to know how to get to the tree? That seemed to satisfy her so we could begin the wrapping process.

Each year, I get made fun of for having too much wrapping paper and a million rolls of tape. Each year, I hear him say "Gee. Hope we have enough paper." Sarcasm is the language of the devil. And this year? I decided - not this year! NO.

It was just hilarious when two gifts in I realized we were out of tape. (Sarcasm may be the language of the devil, but it's mine.)

Good news / bad news:

• We had a ton of packing tape we could use. 
• We had a ton of packing tape we could use. 

It was a crazy pain in the ass, and I feared it would make opening presents take even longer, but it all worked out. We didn't wrap everything and had a few presents out in the open, which really worked out. And of course, I scared up as many gift bags as I could that made sense. I didn't want to take the present opening piece of the morning away, though I considered it. It only took a little under 3 hours but Jingle Bells it was worth. Another magical Christmas, indeed.

The work of an elf is never done.

The very night Santa could say he was "done" with the Guarro girls, this happened.

Her: "Daddy, I've been dreaming things. But I can't tell you, because I want my wish to come true."
Him: "Well, that's not really how it works. Are you talking about a birthday wish? Those you keep to yourself, but you can tell me other wishes."
Me (in my head): "For the love of all things good & jolly what in the what is she going to want now?"
Her: "Well, I've been dreaming about my list for Santa. But I can't say it, otherwise they won't come true."
Him (begins the con on our 5 year old): "L, that's really not how it works - we already sent our letter to Santa and you already told him what you wanted when you met him. If you want to change something, you kinda have to say it out loud so he gets the message? He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake...  he doesn't reads minds."
Her: "Ok, well - you know how I said I wanted a Mérida doll?"
Him: "Yes."
Me (in my head): "SON OF A CANDY CANE. We have 3 Mérida dolls in our possession. Two we bought when we were out because we didn't know if the next place would have the version you wanted. We bought a safety and then found the one you wanted. A third just came in the mail; sent as a gift. You best say you want more than one Mérida doll, because we got'em."
Her: "Well, I don't want a Mérida doll anymore."
Me (in my head): "Of fa la la course."
Him: "Why? Would you be disappointed if Santa already packed up a doll for you? Why don't you want one now?"
Her: "Well, I don't want a doll. I want a stuffed animal Mérida, not a doll."
Him: "Hmmm... honestly, L. I don't know if stuffed animal princesses exist. I don't know if princesses are made into stuffed animals or just dolls."

Her (in her sassiest most serious tone): "Daddy. They are elves, they can make anything!"

Me: (immediately on the Internet finding out if a stuffed Mérida exists. It does. The shipping required, but not guaranteed, due to timing would cost almost $30. There is also a Disney store, 40 minutes away.): "Of course."

While a mother's love can't be measured it should certainly say something that I found my way to the Disney Store that night. I got the plush Mérida. And maybe her horse and three brother bears. If she doesn't freak out when she realizes Santa heard her new & improved Christmas wish, I'm invoicing her for gas.

Lennie: v. to love something so much that you over do it, killing it, unintentionally*

I've been known to be in the company of those who Lennie.  I'm not proud to say it, but I occasionally Lennie a situation. I can't help it. I love it so hard and so much what other option do I have? Love it responsibly? Hell to the no.

I find a song I love; I play it over and over again, on repeat. I'll read a book that I love, for days. I won't put down. I become entirely too obsessed and will read for days straight, never breaking to talk to a person or sleep. Or I'll love a story so much (not for the writing, so much as the story it tells) I'll read it. Again and again, despite it being a young adult series (whatever, I love their love, it doesn't have to make sense to you). I'll get started on a TV series and since every episode is available the next thing I know I have watched a season of 24 in, that's right - you've guessed it, 24 hours. Sometimes some thing is so funny, I watch it over and over again. Most times, I take things too far.

Exhibit A.

A few years ago, someone passed along this ridiculously hilarious video. It's especially funny if you or anyone you love is from the Island. (Long Island).

And it's a holiday tradition. Pick up that shit around the tree and all. I can't help but play it. A lot. And while I try not to highlight that specific part. It may be a casualty of the holiday & humor. There is even a song. I may have it on my holiday play list.

When we go to get our tree? We call Nana Lu & play the video. We talk in the voice with her, throughout the holiday, going to get the tree, sitting in front of the tree, saying goodbye to the tree. When we pass strangers on the street, we roll down our windows, honk and say "Hurry up! We're going to get the tree. C'mon!"  It's what we do. As the kid gets older, I should probably watch the language... but really? What's the benefit of that? If I did that, I wouldn't get this. 

Photo, me & Instagram. Genius of putting captions ON said photo,
Brenna over at Suburban Snapshots.

This video? It's kind of just the beginning. I may or may not be on a quest to really do the original right. But in the meantime I can't help to but share my gaw-jess girl.

*I'd credit the person who thought of this description, but alas she wouldn't like that. Due to the inability to credit another: I'll say I didn't come up with this term, but I'm taking it. And making it mine. And loving it. And squeezing it & likely over using it until it dies.

Good news, bad news: the holiday card edition

Good news: I am obsessed with mail. We have the best damn holiday card, ever, each year. If I do say so myself. And I do. Toot toot. Beep beep.

No. Serious.

Bad news: there is a lot of pressure to keep up with the amazing nature of the year before. Sure, it's self-inflicted. Sure, no one is waiting by their mailboxes for our genius... no one probably even notices how amazing our cards are... but you know who does? ME. I do. Every year I usually have some kind of idea brewing. This year? I got nothing. Nadda. And when I bring this up... I get "you haven't printed your cards yet?"

Um. No.

I have a few ideas, but they require the kids to make specific faces and do what I need them to do. Let's be honest here: as adorable as they are, doing what I tell them to do is not going to happen.

Another part of the rub, is I have these gorgeous family pictures that we had taken. They are amazing.  We all look cute. We are all looking at the camera. We are in semi-coordinating colors but not catalogey (sorry. no offense, you.) They are beautiful. However after years of funny, different, and surprising... how can I just send cute?

-Desperately trying to find the next great holiday card

Kitchen renovations

Do you remember those catalogs of toys you would go through? I believe it was Toys"R"Us and Sears or something? The paper was thin and with each category of toys there were be a new color bar at the top. It was glorious. I wish my kids would be able to experience this. Oh, the JOY of getting my grips on that mammoth catalog. It's sad. Now, there is an app for that. And frankly, let me be so bold as to say, Toys"R"us... it ain't great. You've saved all that paper - the least you can do is include the same amount of toys. It's all ads, not everything. I've been in a Toys"R"Us, I know.

Over Thanksgiving, the kid used the app to look through toys. It is neat to be able to just click a toy and put it on your wish list, or Santa's list as it were. I miss folding paper, and circling toys - but whatever. In going through her 98 selections, as she felt the need to speak for her sister, I noticed a few things.

• Two, count them, TWO motorized cars. Both for JJ, of course. 
• Countless princesses, some I'm fairly sure she has. 
• Games, many games, including but not limited to a gems like: Doggie Doo Game. True. Doggie.Doo. 
• A new play kitchen.

Some of these things I can easily talk her down from.

Me, "Babe, we are not getting cars for kids. That's not happening. I will let Santa know that. I override your list, true story."
Her, "Yea, maybe it's a bad idea. But it's what JJ wanted...."
Me, "No."
Her, "Ok."
Me, "Sweetie, we have that princess. We don't need duplicates of princesses, you know? Why don't you choose ONE princess to ask Santa for?"
Her, "Ok, Mommy."
Me, "Um. No. This game, no. This can't be for kids. It's for kids. Well, no."
Her, "Is it inappropriate? Does it say bad words?"
Me, "No. It's gross... sorry."
Her, "Ok, Mama."

The kitchen, she held onto.

Me, "Hon, we have a kitchen. Let's try to stick to things we don't have, just like the princesses, ok?"
Her, "Well, I don't have that kitchen."
Me, "No, but you have A kitchen."
Her, "Yea, but... my kitchen? Doesn't have a microwave. I NEED a microwave."
Touche, my dear. Touche. So guess what? Would you believe they sell TOY microwave? They do. And home girl is getting an add on, not a full on renovation.

I win. Santa wins.

Traditions are important

2011 "perfection"

2009 PERFECTION

I'll be honest, last year's photos scared me. Not only did I buy matching outfits for the girls (who am I?) but everyone looked so happy.

I am aware I don't make sense.

I mean, 2011 pictures were ok. It's NO 2009 though. Let's be honest.

Today we went Ohio City Holiday Festival. I hoped, maybe, we'd get to grab a picture with Old Saint Nick. Did I have high hopes for a little less perfection that we found in 2011? Maybe, I did. Would I have preferred tears? No, though I won't say it would have bothered me. Mother of the year, I'm coming for you.

The Holiday Festival was fine, I think (at first), I expected more. To be fair, if you look at the information they said there would be crafts, Santa, and gifts to buy. There were local stands for this & that, one craft and one booth you could decorate cookies. Cute. There were trees for sale, the smell of Christmas. It was nice. But then, in addition to the ability to take a picture with Santa something truly magical happened. Something they should have put on their flyers.

Santa was there, all right. He sung, real songs, many of them. He sung his way into his chair, awaiting the children to tell him their wishes and dreams. But not before he rapped, moon walked, churned butter and did the cabbage patch. 

 

Good times, had by all. That was until it was time for pictures with Santa. And just like that, tradition continued and the baton was passed.  We'll be back. 2013 I'm looking at you.

2012

Gifts for You, Gifts for Me

We usually don't break out the Christmas big guns so early, but after a weekend full of fun with the family, in their absence I wanted to make sure the kids (specifically L) could continue to let the good times roll.

We are huge holiday fans. And each year between me pillaging the clearance aisles and gifts from family we are really putting together a wondrous hodgepodge of Christmas crap spirit. This includes a bunch of music playing tchotchke. Including, but not limited to a piano that plays "Deck the Halls."

L comes out dancing to the jingling and the jangling and with all her Christmas spirit she bursts out:

"I know this song! I LOVE IT. One for you and one for me - you you you me me me - BLACK FRIDAY!"

No, YOU let your kid watch so much television she recognizes a song that dates back to the 16th century as a Target commercial. 

Consider this my application for Mother of the Year.

The Bug & the Beast

Halloween is delayed here this year. We'll trick-or-treat on Sunday. Maybe I'll have more pictures, but who knows. It's anyone's guess.  We have a long standing history of our love for Halloween. I mean, normally we're all - we are going to match, it's going to be epic.

This year, we were going to all be bugs. I envisioned some kind of "We're buggin out" holiday card. L wanted a butterfly, and we were going to have JJ get into that adorable ladybug costume, since the ball&chain staunchly refused to be a lady bug. Seriously. HOW funny would that have been?  I was going to be a bee and he was going with beetle or lightening bug. Instead? I couldn't find the lady bug costume, and needed to figure out a plan B.

We did the only thing we could do. If she couldn't talk what would she want to be?

A lion.

She growls & roars. All the time. And she's a beast. Boom. Adorable lion, order UP.

2012, Halloween, I give you. The bug & the beast. Plan B? Rocks.

My Funny Valentine

This happened. My little girl.

I called the ball & chain to tell him I was running late, he had picked up L from school and by all calculations he was home. He was not. He was out. Why, you ask? He just picked the kid up from school and "ran an errand." I asked the same thing. Smart, people. And so the story goes...

"Well. After I picked up L, we went to the florist. We picked up flowers for you."
  

Inner monologue: WHY in the world are you busting the secret? 

"So, she carefully picked out each of the flowers. She was really into it. Then she asked if we were picking out flowers for Mary {our au pair}. Of course we did and she was very specific which flowers she wanted for her. She was into it. When we went to pay she turned to me and asked, 'but Daddy, who is going to surprise me with flowers.'"To which, his heart promptly melted. 

He had a follow up question and she had more heart melting one liners. 

Him: "L, what's your favorite flower? I don't think I know."

Her: "Um, I don't know. They're all so pretty. They make me feel so special."

Of course he was out, getting his girl some flowers to surprise her with. This kid? She's too much. And for whoever she ends up with in life? I hope they are ready for her.  

Merry MERRY

Yeah, don't even get me started how far behind I am. Good news? I'm here now, m'kay? Let's hug it out. 

This year we had our second annual, we ain't going NOWHERE Christmas. Of course, this one was different in that we didn't have visitors. This was one was special. Dreamy.* Wonderful* and just what you think when you think "Damn. That was a relaxing holiday." It's also where we learned we have holiday rush PTSD. 

Example:
Christmas Eve our plan was to go to the fish market.  I know, we are landlocked - what are we DOING going to a fish market. We asked the kid: What do you want to eat for Christmas Eve? She answered, "Lobster." Look, my kid has champagne taste, we indulge. It's the holidays. I digress; we had to go to the fish market and the Hill. The Hill is an Italian section of the STL and we heard full of delicious. We figured if we couldn't have Arthur Avenue food, we'd have the Hill for Christmas dinner. That morning as we were getting on our way the husband & I started to feverishly rushing around. We had to go. We had to go fast. We were running late. We wanted to get on our way earlier. Go GO GO!

Wait. WHY are we late? Where did we have to go? What is the rush? We had ZERO plans other than the two stops we had to make.

We seriously had to check ourselves.

You know what that is? PTSD. Loud & clear.  Look at those faces? HOW can we be stressed with those FACES?
So we chilled out and had a lovely day. Fast forward through (surprisingly) delicious lobsters and we let L stay up late and bake cookies for Santa. Her entire body was filled with Christmas magic.  It was palpable and completely indescribable until it happens to you.  Last year was great, she got it - it was fun.  But this year? This year you could see it in her eyes Christmas freaking spirit. And when I tucked her in to sleep, I cried. Big baby that I am - I just couldn't wait for my baby to experience what was to come. 

Christmas morning, went a little like this. All of it? Pure magic. 

• Present opening - between "Santa" (aka great deals), family, and friends it took close to 2 hours for my methodical kid to open her presents (and her baby sister's). While it may look like she got a lot of stuff - Santa wasn't only thrifty - he was practical.  
• L got to eat candy before breakfast and have Christmas cookies for breakfast (she is still talking about this amazing Christmas magic).  She asked nicely. I said sure. She looked at me in disbelief.
• We sat around a fire. We drank coffee, had breakfast (for those of us skipping on the cookies). We watched a movie - we stayed in our PJs. We had antipasti for lunch and then. We took a nap. All of us. CHRISTMAS.MAGIC. 

Finally we got up, got ready (jeans, baby) and sat down to a lovely Christmas dinner. 

LOVELY.

 * I would be remiss if I didn't mention while the holiday was dreamy it was also something of the best of the situation we were in. Of course, if given the opportunity to see family at our house and share the magic with family or friends we would have gladly shared the magic.

Santa Babies

Oh how the me of yore would kick my ass.

To be honest, I rolled my eyes at myself when I considered even BUYING these matching outfits.  But I did.

I scoffed when I thought to put them in those matching outfits for our Santa picture this year. But I did.

I judge me, but you can't deny these girls are too.freaking.cute.

What a difference a year makes, indeed.





Beyond the completely NEW little person on Santa's lap - we've been able to go from this:

2010 L meets Santa (again)

to this:

2011 L giggles with Santa

Magical, people. MAGICAL.

Slimed

For a moment this was going to be a Wordless Wednesday, but then I realized even though this will be posted on a Wednesday there was no way I could be wordless about this one. I present you with an outtake from our holiday card photo shoot. I'm pretty much obsessed. 

JJ is not a fan of the whole family "photo shoot" - she's more of a on the fly smile type of girl. And getting TWO girls to smile at the same time? Mission impossible. She's more likely to spit up. Obviously. L on the other hand isn't as used to being puked on as yours truly. Me? I don't know what I look forward to more. A full night's sleep OR not being puked on.  It has come to the point I just wipe it off (barely) and get on with the day. Why change if I know it's just going to happen again? L on the other hand? HORRIFIED. And now, I have proof. {insert evil laugh}

Magical Holidays

Oh my Elf, I am so behind. I started writing this - who knows when. I wanted to interrupt my Elf on the Shelf obsession to bring you good clean family fun. The holiday season was upon us and oh what fun it was. I was all wrapped up in Alessandro, I forgot to breakdown our turkey (Thanksgiving). As I look to edit this post a bit we may or may not still have the tree "up" and all lit up. We usually take the tree down on January 6th but this week has been hell-a busy.

OK, back to the story from way back when. AKA 2 months ago in a time long, long ago called Thanksgiving.

Seeing as we are in the STL - we didn't have to decide where to go (win) and was able to host Thanksgiving (win). Grammy & Poppa made the pilgrimage to the Midwest and in addition to not having to travel (have I mentioned, win?) L + J got to spend time with some of her grandparents. 

We went to the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade (yes, they have that in places other than NYC - thank you very much). Sure the one in NYC probably doesn't have a firetruck with the leg lamp from The Christmas Story - but hey. They DID have giant balloon floats.  And lots of candy. After the morning at the parade we came home and just hung out. We watched more parades on TV. Glorious.  The day was filled with enjoying good food (thanks ball & chain), good company and cold beer.  Let me highly recommend hosting Thanksgiving in a low key event?

Sometimes lurkers aren't up to no good

When it was time for the kid to get a bike (thanks Santa), I went to the store, ill prepared. Let this be a lesson to all parents - those looking to purchase a bicycle and those being stared at by another in the bicycle section. 

Here's how it went down. Santa wanted to bring something for his best little girl special, so bicycle it was. When I went to go do Santa's dirty work (truth: it's not elves that are working around the clock, it's overweight moms like myself. Not quite the picture you expected, huh?). I got to the store and in typical fashion - I'm checking out the style.

She loves pink. I hate pink. But I won' t be riding this bike - so pink it is. I checked out the selection on pink, and it was character based or neon. I will bend on the pink thing, but I can not, will not, get character based apparel (though I have) or toys (though I have). It's your typical parenting conundrum. You say you won't do something, but you do. I decided to pass on Barbie and go for a Tony Hawk neon pink "racing" bike.

Too much. Apparently.

Just enough. Turns out.

I'm hoping she "fits" the bicycle, because of course I learned something new on my shopping spree. Size matters.  I didn't measure her before I left, nor do I know really how tall she is. I basically just stood in the section awaiting children running by looking for someone "her size" so I could ask that parent if they knew how tall their child was. 


Yeah, nothing weird about that - at all.

Ruldolph's Dad is D*ck & Other Holiday Discoveries

Like a scene from a holiday classic, often times the holidays can throw me into a mood. Are you picturing sugar plums fairies dancing in my head? Don't. 

At different points within the holiday season there is serious stress. There is the gift getting, traveling, working out where we will go and when, figuring out work vacation, traffic, transporting said gifts through the said travel to where we figure out we'll be and sitting in traffic covered in bags. Multiply that by 3 and get BACK from said visits through traffic with more stuff than we left with - it gets me quite a mood, indeed.

This year the kid really 'gets it.' What fun! It's the first year we'll be home for the holidays and Santa is coming to TOWN, our town.  I've been hoarding collecting things through out the year so there can be a HUGE pile of goodies under the tree.  Santa is going to BRING IT this year.  It's going to be awesome. The best news? Whatever she asks for - I am 99% sure Santa has it covered. How can I be so sure?  The kid has brilliant parents, if I do say so myself.  We may or may not have been planting giving her "ideas" to ask Santa for.  These 'ideas' just so happen to match up to what I have it on good authority Santa already has packed in the closet already wrapped cause I'm unseasonably and oddly prepared like that his sleigh. 

Dad: "L, have you been a good girl this year?"
L: "Um. YEAH. A real good girl. I'm three."
Dad: "Yup, you are. So, we are going to see Santa next weekend, what are you going ask for?"
L: "Santa coming tomorrow? After school?!"
Dad: "Nope, not yet - we have to tell Santa what you want for Christmas - what are you going to ask for?"
L: "I dunno. Barbie? Horses?"
Me: "How about Barbie ON a horse?"
L: "YEAH! BARBIE ON A HORSE! And Princesses."
Me: "Awesome, what about a princess puzzle?"
L:  "Yeah! Princess puzzle!"
Me: "And maybe some games and videos?"
L: "YEAH!"
Me: (Insert the rest of the gifts in the closet in Santa's sleigh.)
L: "YEAH! I wantta all of those things! Mama, can you help me?"
Me: "Sure, with what?" (we were eating dinner at the time)
L: "Mama, when I talk to Santa, will you help me tell him??" 

CAN you STAND it?  Things were looking up over here on Happy Holiday Lane. All this Santa talk made my heart grow three sizes that day. I had stashed away a DVD box set of Holiday Classics: Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, Santa Claus is Coming to Town and more.  I thought I would break it out, we were all in the mood.  It was awesome. We snugged up on the coach and watched Rudolph together. I admit it. I nearly teared up. 

Fast forward: 1 week later. Things on Happy Holiday Lane are going great. The tree is amazing (more on that later), the house smells like the spirit of Christmas, we are done with presents for the kid and thanks be to major sale sleuthing we didn't really spend that much money and a last minute MAJOR purchase is going to be tear jerking if she has the reaction I think she will.  There is one small exception to this wonderful life.

Rudolph, that god dang bastard, is practically on replay. I don't know if you've re-watched it lately but it's serious. How did we not have more issues with bullying growing up? These elves are little bastards. They are so cruel to Hermie.  The head Elf is a cranky little B and all he does is tear down Hermie who is the only elf that doesn't look like the rest (with the exception of one random tall elf).  It's probably hard enough to not look like everyone else - what kind of world were we living in where everyone looked the same and that didn't raise any red flags? Beyond his Farrah Facet quaff in the front of his face he appears to be wearing lipstick and wants to be a dentist.  I'm not sure what kind of euphemism dentistry is supposed to stand for, but the whole thing is uncomfortable to watch (on re-play, no less).

Beyond the elf leader, Santa is a real D.  He puts down the elves when they try to make a new song for him, alienates Rudolph, is passive aggressive to his wife and Rudolph's dad - just a real a*hole.  Why, after viewing this as a child, did I want to visit this cranky old bastard and put hope that he would make my dreams come true? 

Finally, Rudolph's dad perpetuates a feeling of the opposite of unconditional love.  After a quick google search, apparently this is conditional hate (duh). He hates his kid because he is different. Um, how is this a feel good holiday movie again? In addition to him being a real jackass, he is also sexist. Well, maybe Sam the Snowman is because as he narrated a pivotal scene in the movie he dropped a bomb I seriously do NOT recall ever hearing. What am I going on about? Let me lay it down for you. 

As you may remember, Rudolph runs away because everyone hates him because he is different.  Despite a youth of being taught to hide who he is (thanks Dad) the breaking point is when the reindeer coach specifically instructs the other kids to "not let Rudolph play in their reindeer games."  The love of his life, Clarice (creepy fact all I hear is "Why, hello Clarice" when her name is mentioned in the movie) chases after him, proclaims her love for him and accepts him for all that he is.  He is feeling better about life until Clarice's red-nosing hating dad come by and crash their dreams. No daughter of his will be spending time with a red-nosed freak. Crushed, Rudolph runs away. 

Now this is where I freaked. As Sam tells the story and Donner (Jerk Dad) & the mom (don't speak unless spoken to woman) realize that Rudolph is gone Donner has buyers remorse and tells the little woman he's going out to find Rudolph. Of course the mom wants to come to, probably realizing if Rudolph is as smart as she thinks he is there's no way he's coming back with this idiot. The response?  

"NO. This is mans work." - Donner, Rudolph's dad. Not only a hater but a sexist. Don't believe me? I'm serious. This happened. 




The story continues on to say, "And no sooner did the man of the house leave..." (Seriously. Is this serious?) basically Clarice and mom decide to rebel again THE man and go find Rudolph on their own.  Maybe the lesson here is "Girl Power!" as long as the man of the house is gone? Geesh.

I've heard of things looking different looking at them through a child's eyes (see magic at Disney), but being horrified after the fact looking at something with adult eyes? This is news to me. Have you ever seen something after the fact and wondered HOW you didn't notice it before? I get to relive this nightmare everyday, at approximately 6pm once the kid requests another round of Rudolph the FREAK Nosed Reindeer and the Dysfunctional Family of the North Pole.