The 'Stache

Okay so I need to put this to a vote and I am asking you fine people out there to help me decide what to do. Even you stalkers who never comment, please take half a second to vote please- I promise it will be anonymous. Ü

My kid is starting to grow a mustache. He's only in seventh grade. He's only technically been a teenager for less than a week, but for quite a while now it's been looking like he's got a dirty upper lip. Or that maybe he's been playing in my mascara.

He gets it from his dad. His dad was shaving daily by the time he was fourteen. He doesn't want Nick to start shaving yet. Not because he's proud of his manly little boy and his facial hair, but because once you start shaving, there's no going back.

John hates shaving. It's the bane of his existence. When I first met him he was sporting his own mustache. I hated it. Truthfully, he's lucky I went out with him at all in the first place. It's a good thing for him that I could see past the ugly caterpillar growing on his upper lip that made him look like a sleazy used car salesman to the great guy behind it. All that was missing were the alligator skin shoes. (good thing for him he didn't own any, because they would have been a deal breaker). When we got serious I made him shave it off.

Later after we were married, he would grow a full beard in the winter time. He said it kept him warm -especially while skiing. I wasn't too keen on that either. But I couldn't blame him for not wanting to shave. The grizzly Adams look was better than the sleazy salesman look, but I'm just not a fan of facial hair. At least on someone who wants to kiss me. It gives me whisker burn and hurts my face and tickles my nose. And now that we don't live in a state with temperatures that dip below zero, and he doesn't have the problem of keeping his face warm while he skis, he hasn't sported a beard in a decade.

Now of course my objection to Nick's facial hair has nothing to do with my own comfort- I'm just not a fan of looking at his dirty lip/got into his mom's mascara/wanna-be sleazy salesman look. But I think he likes it. He's excited to be getting older, and it's something quantifiable that he can add to the list that proves he's growing up.

Almost as tall as mom- check!

Feet are bigger than dad's- check!

cell phone- check!

officially a teenager- check!

facial hair- check!

The only things left are to finally be taller than his parents, get a real job, and drive a car.

So- I would like to put it to a vote. I figure the three options are- wax it, (he's pretty adverse to this idea-it sounds painful) bleach it, (he's okay with this plan) or just leave it. What do you think? I'd really like some feedback here.

There's a little voting box thing on the top right side. Just click on your favorite selection. You have about a week to help me decide. Thanks!

how I wore my hair to church yesterday

So you all know my lack of hair skills are pretty pathetic. I admit I could use some serious help. Unfortunately most of the time I really don't care.

Madison is of course the real victim. While other little girls have mommies who can french braid or send them to church with elaborate 'do's, my little girl has to be content with a headband and the occasional (very occasional) curl from the curling iron.

However I have a friend who has magic fingers. I attribute it to her skill as a harpist. Sometimes, on the rare occasion we get together, she says- "So, you want me to braid your hair?" (She would have braided Maddies, be it was a little short.)

Yes folks, that is a FIVE strand french braid. Pretty cool, eh?

So, that was Saturday night- I wore it to church like that on Sunday, forgot to change the hair elastics so they matched, slept in it again last night, and now I'm off to the mall sporting the same hairstyle with my good friend Mindy (poor girl- she's a shopaholic living in a small town with only a wal-mart to meet her needs).

Merry Christmas!

Here's hoping you all had a very merry Christmas.

We sure did.

John's mom was able to come down and spend the week with us and the kids had a wonderful time running her ragged. She made Swedish pancakes each and every morning, and we went through more eggs than you would believe, but the kids couldn't get enough.

Santa made his annual stop despite Madison's fears that her brothers would keep him away because they wouldn't go to sleep. The kids were all thrilled with their presents. Santa brought the boys all skateboards (even Christopher) and Madison got a pink scooter, so they took advantage of all the closed stores to play in the parking lots near our home.

The festivities aren't over yet, friends will be arriving tomorrow to spend a few days, and then my parents are coming to spend New Years with us.

I love this time of year. Spending time with family and friends. Seeing the magic and wonder in little kids eyes when they see the tree all lit, with presents underneath, and a stocking full of treats.

Thinking of your friends and neighbors and fellow man and showing your love and appreciation for them through a plate of goodies or a bag of caramels.

While the commercialism of the season can certainly be distracting, I am grateful for the opportunity to celebrate the birth of my Savior. The food and the lights and the decorations and the presents are all great and wonderful, and I enjoy those things very much, but even more so I feel so blessed to know that in the humblest of circumstances, halfway across the world, a long time ago, a baby was born into this world to save us all.

May we all strive to keep Christmas in our hearts year round.

Happy Birthday Nick!

Aaaack!!! I'm the mother of a teenager!!! I can't believe it! 13 years old!! How did that happen? My teeniest baby is getting bigger by the day. (much to his delight) I swear some days you can watch him grow. His feet are already bigger than his dad's.

Truthfully though, I couldn't ask for a better kid. He's such a great kid, and a great big brother, and I am so proud of him for so many things.

I love you Nick. You're awesome.

Gingerbread parties

Growing up near family, there were many opportunities to spend time with family. Christmas just wasn't Christmas without busily traveling around to spend time with all the aunts, uncles, and cousins.

When John and I were first married, that travel schedule nearly doubled as now we needed to spend time with each other's families during the holidays.

It was crazy, but nice to feel surrounded by loved ones.

And then we moved 800 miles away.

It took us awhile to adjust, and more often than not we have grandparents visit us for the Holidays, but I still felt (feel) bad about not being able to give my kids what I had growing up.

Let me leave you with that thought as I shift gears here for a second.

Several (7 or 8) years ago our family got our first invite to a gingerbread house making party from our good friends who lived across the street. It was a tradition in her family when she was growing up. Their mother would make a bunch of gingerbread houses and invite family and friends over and have a party and make gingerbread houses. It had become such a part of the Christmas Holiday to her that she couldn't "get in the Christmas spirit" until she had a party. (She was living far away from her family then too.)

After a couple years of going to gingerbread parties at her house, we both ended up moving away within weeks of each other. We only moved a couple of miles down the road, but her family moved many hundred miles away back to her home town.

That December I was a little depressed. I actually pouted because I was not going to get invited to a party that year. Boo-hoo. Poor me.

It actually took me awhile to come to the realization that if it mattered that much to me, then I should throw a party myself.

I make the gingerbread house parts, and the icing, and make up some wassail, and each family brings a couple of bags of candy and possibly an appetizer or some other treat to munch on, and we listen to Christmas music until someone else convinces John to change it to football. And each family makes a gingerbread house. And that's it.

Now it's part of what we do. My kids have come to expect it year after year. And it's a tradition that I can give my kids. I might not be able to surround them with family and cousins, but we have friends.

We love it, but it causes me much stress. Cleaning, and baking, and the guest list. Mostly the guest list. This year we threw three parties because I have a hard time not inviting everyone. I have pretty much figured out that we can invite only 6 families per party. I have two tables, and borrow a third, and that means that two families have to share each table. Even if I were to figure out how to squeeze more people into the house, it's just too crazy and then we don't get the opportunity to visit with everybody. And that's the fun part for John and I.

But I really stress over the guest list. There are those friends who have been coming for years, and friends we have become close with, and then there are those that we would like to get to know better, and my kids always have requests, and it's hard to make those decisions. And I worry about offending people or hurting their feelings. And then I think that maybe it's just a dumb party and my friends humor me and show up because they like me and they have nothing else going on. (I plan them on Monday nights for FHE, and most people have Monday nights free)

And then I hear other things. One year I didn't have a party because I was pregnant and sick, and one friend said "oh good, I just thought you didn't invite us, and I was feeling really bad." And someone else said, "we had so much fun, thanks for inviting us, it's a tradition now in our family. We don't have many, but coming to your party is one of them." and someone else said that one person was telling her how happy they were that they "finally got invited to a gingerbread party." And then last summer there was the lady who cornered me and asked why she had never been invited. Her kids were all grown, and I didn't think she was interested. She brought her grand kids this year. Their mom was sick and in the hospital. She told me it was a highlight for the kids this month.

And we love it. The kids are in charge of decorating one gingerbread house for us, and it generally takes all three parties to get it done because they would rather run off and play with whatever kids they can drag away. Madison did most of the work this year. The garden is very extensive, it even has a swimming pool.

I added that window. Admit it, you're impressed.

When she was finished she said she couldn't fit one more piece of candy on the house.

you know you watch too many murder mystery shows when...

Disclaimer- I'm hopped up on a couple percocets at the moment so if I sound at all crazy, it's because I probably am.

So I admit it, I get little itty bitty crushes on certain tv/movie/music and even book personalities.

For instance, Harry Connick jr has made me swoon since high school. I've had a longer relationship with him than I have my own husband.

In books I have Edward and Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy also falls into the movie category as well, but only the A&E version. Edward doesn't make it into the movies, I switched teams and am all about team Jacob. I try not to think about the fact that I am twice his age, cause that's just creepy.

Growing up with the TV, I have always had crushes on one character or another- Alex P. Keaton on Family Ties, Mike Seaver on Growing Pains, David Addison on Moonlighting, amongst others.

Lately there's been Jim Halpert on The Office, although now that he's married and a manager, he's kinda boring. Chuck Bartowski on Chuck is pretty cute in a geeky kind of way (obviously I must have a thing for geeks since I married one) and then there's FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth of Bones. I think he's topping my list these days.

And to be clear, it's just the fictional characters, not necessarily the actors themselves. After I got into Bones I tried to watch the tv show Angel because back when it was popular, and I would hear people gushing over David Boreanaz, I never could understand what the big deal was. And frankly I still don't see the attraction- in Angel. And I really could care less about any interviews he does, whether he's on any talk shows promoting Bones, because I really could care less about David Boreanaz the actor- I like FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth. Oddly it's like the characters themselves are more real to me than the actors- I imagine that they (the actors) are so far removed from the general population due to being so rich and famous that they cease to be real people. Make sense?

So as I mentioned Seeley Booth is sorta my number one fictional boyfriend this week. I share this with you today because in a twisted, morbid way it helped me get through my ordeal at the oral surgeon's today as they were using a jack hammer to dig out my tooth, which was a hundred times worse than the bone graft which I thought sounded really scary but every bit as bad as I thought the actual extraction was going to be.

I was thinking how if I were to be murdered and buried in an unmarked grave somewhere and years later when my body was found but all that was left of me was my bones, this might help them figure out my identity. Bone graft... titanium screw in my jaw...those should be helpful right? Of course in my head my remains were laid out on a table at the Jeffersonian with Dr. Brennan and her squints pouring over then for evidence.

And then some lucky person(s) will be questioned by Booth. And hopefully an arrest made. Hopefully it wasn't John in some jealous rage over my fictional boyfriends.

Body parts

The other day Christopher and I were driving around running errands and I happened to notice something out my side view mirror.
First there was his hand, and then...


Apparently he had learned to roll down the window and decided to take advantage of the lovely weather we are having here.

Nothing like a nice breeze blowing through your piggies.

"I can't believe you're not crying..."

so I'm in a crabberific mood today. Maybe it's PMS. I don't know. Maybe it's all of my kids continual fighting, the fact that John is working when he's supposed to be on vacation, that I think I forgot to put in the vanilla on my last batch of caramels, this stinking headache that won't go away, the fact that I need to go out and face the crowds because I still need a couple of last minute things that I need to ship, (which also means a trip to the post office) or this stupid, stinking tooth that I need to have yanked (actually dug out) of my mouth, and it is bugging me.

So it's karma at it's finest when you crack a tooth on a piece of candy you stole from your kid. Candy that had been sitting on his dresser since Halloween. I thought it was just a harmless gumball, but it was really an evil jawbreaker.

And I chomped down on it.

And cracked a tooth.

Under a crown.

Clear down to the root.

It can't be salvaged.

They say there is nothing they can do except "extract it". I have to go an oral surgeon. Where they will talk me into an expensive and what sounds to be very painful implant. And apparently the whole process takes MONTHS. There are a couple recovery periods of several weeks while they wait for the swelling to go down. (Fun, no?)

When the dentist explained all this to me- I thought all they had to do was a simple fix because my crown seemed to have come loose- I sat there totally stunned and in shock, and the dental hygienist says to me "I can't believe you're not crying. If it were me, I'd be crying."

Gee, thanks. I feel so much better.

Truthfully I was actually debating between crying and throwing up.

as a little child...

I'm loving having a three year old in the house this time of year. The magic of the season might be lost on me, being chained to the stove and all, but at least I get to watch Christopher experience it for what might be the first time in his little memory.

He's thrilled with the tree and the lights and the music and with the fact that there is a constant supply of caramels to snitch. He prefers the plain ones of course. The pecan ones require a more sophisticated palate.

He loves to play with his Little People Nativity set, and show me his "Jesus baby".

The other day a friend of mine came over for some caramel instruction. She brought her own three year old with her. Christopher dragged this little boy into our living room and showed him our Christmas tree proudly exclaiming= "Chrisiss!! Chrisiss!!"

I am sure he thought this little boy must have never seen anything so wonderful in his entire life. I don't think he understands that the culmination of all the festivities leads up to one morning of presents and candy and such. He's just happy to enjoy the rest of the things this Christmas season has to offer.

With all the chaos and busy-ness that generally surrounds us this time of year, I am grateful for a little boy who reminds me to just enjoy the moment.

Summer School

Why am I thinking about summer school in the middle of December?

Let me tell you why-

I got the official phone call from Nicks HONORS math teacher on Friday that he has failed math and will need to repeat the first semester of math.

In other words- most likely summer school.

We're crossing our fingers there's an Internet option, but we're not holding our breath.

Several unanswered questions are out there floating around-

How, how, how, did he fail math? Especially when NOBODY thinks the work load is too hard and that he should be put in regular seventh grade math. Not Nick, not me, not even his teacher. We all know he is where he belongs.

He does great in class. He participates, he loves the class, he does his in class work- the problem occurs when the teacher sends home homework. Assignments get forgotten, only partially completed, I think he even forgets to put his name on things. He doesn't study for quizzes, then does poorly on them.

He studied for his final, and did pretty well, but he had dug himself into such a deep hole he would have needed like 150% on the test to rescue himself from failure. Obviously that didn't happen.

So our plans for the summer are up in the air. Vacations? Boy scout campouts? Swim team? Who knows.

I am crossing my fingers that this is the wake-up call. Not getting to play on the school football team wasn't it. Getting kicked out of Honors English wasn't it. Watching his mother have an emotional break down wasn't it. Spending the last four years grounded hasn't been it either.

To Do list before Christmas

-Make more Caramels (half a dozen more batches? Ten, tops)
-Ship presents, caramels
-find presents for niece and nephew.
-Finish Christmas cards
-Make cookies for Santa
-Clean house
-Get tooth extracted (at least by the end of the year)
-Take the kids to see the lights
-Plan menu for Christmas
-Birthday cake for Nick
-Finish Maddie's room (that I started in June)
-return hat to friend in exchange for caulking gun that I borrowed last June to work on Maddie's room, never used, and returned when she needed it back.
-visiting teaching
-Buy mattress for Nick
-Move Nick's old bed into Christopher's room so Christopher can be a big boy and move out of the crib.
-update blogs- (my food blog is even more pathetic)
-boys haircuts
-deliver "secret sister" gifts
-enjoy what is left of the season
-go to the gym
-spend quality time with kids/hubby
-finish wrapping presents

I think that's it. It's probably not though.

Maybe I should add "clone self" to that list, but I don't know when I'll be able to get around to it.

Christmas miracle #2

Out of the blue, John spent several hours wrapping presents the other day. Not just wrapping, but cataloging in Excel to keep track of what we have, what we spent, and what we need to get. (Grandparents find it easier to send money and we do the shopping- it's win-win for the grandparents and the kids, but for a scatterbrain like me, I sometimes have trouble keeping track of which presents are from whom.)

He's never done that before. That is generally an activity done by me, alone, in the quiet hours of the night while every one else sleeps. I think he realized that since I have been spending those hours making caramels, the kids were in danger of having all their presents wrapped in trash bags. Or Target shopping bags. Depending on the size of the present.

Better get back to those caramels. They won't cook themselves. TTFN

"Yay! E-nock!"

It will be a sad day indeed when you can't find egg nog in the grocery stores. Not for me of course, I'm not a fan, give me hot cocoa instead any day, but for Christopher it will be.

We can't pass the dairy case in the grocery store without him exclaiming loudly for all to hear "E-nock!!! E-nock!!!!" until the said bottle of goodness ends up in the cart. Then I am rewarded with "Yay! E-nock!" (I mean really, how could I possibly say no?) I frequently catch people laughing out of the corner of my eye.

At home a typical conversation will go like this-

Christopher- "E-nock! E-nock!".

Me- "What do you say?"

C- "Weez! Weez! Weez! Weez! Weez!" -as he frantically rubs his belly in his version of baby sign language.

(Again, I ask- how can I say no?)

Me- "Ok. here you go"

C- "Dank you e-nock."

At least it's only for a month or so. That stuff is expensive. I don't think we could afford it year round.

Forgive me. I'll do better. I promise.

A couple of days ago I got an e-mail from a friend who moved away recently letting me know that my pleas had not fallen on deaf ears- she had recently started a blog. She's a funny, smart, lady and I knew that if I could get her to write I would be entertained by her wit and humor although they've now moved a state away.

Then, I got a phone call from my sister in law today- she wanted help setting up a blog. I've been bugging her since nearly the day I started mine, that she needed to start a blog. They live in Texas and we see each other so rarely, blogging is such a great way to keep in touch and share what is going on in our lives. And the stories that filter out of Texas all too rarely never cease to amuse and entertain us as well.

But she's busy. Super busy. Mother to three kids with active lives, church callings, work, etc. She's the kind of person that makes you tired (and lazy) just listening to the things they've got going on. Despite having piles and piles of blogging material, she would probably have to choose between sleep and blogging.

I am happy to hear she finally chose blogging. Who needs sleep anyways?

So long story short, I am feeling a little guilty and hypocritical these days. Finally convincing others to blog, but I've written, what, like twice in three weeks?

Also there's the fact that there are little things to blog about. Madison and I shared a birthday the other day. Gingerbread houses. Christopher's new excitement for the season. How wonderful it is to have a three year old in the house this time of year.

Also, I want to have my blog published into hard bound books to keep in our family library for years to come. I plan to do a volume a year, and I need to publish 2008, and soon 2009, and would feel pretty bad later if 2009 only contained 11 months.

So, with renewed motivation, I am committing to do better. I'm still chained to my stove most of the day, and I can't make promises of lengthy posts with lots of pictures, full of creative, witty thoughts, but I recognize that at least in my own life, something, anything, is better than nothing.

Madison's birthday party

Ever since she went ice skating for the very first time a year ago with the girl scouts, Madison knew what she wanted to do for her birthday party- go ice skating.

So after cake and ice-cream, I handed out matching gloves and hats, (found in the Target dollar section) loaded up the car with as many girls as could safely fit, and we were off!

Some of the girls were pretty nervous as this was their first time, and a couple of them nearly had their moms come and get them after cake was consumed and presents were opened. Luckily peer pressure won out, and not a single girl went home early.

I admit to being a little nervous about taking seven girls ice-skating all by myself, and it didn't help much when the cashier told me I was brave to undertake this all on my own, but I was pleasantly surprised at how much fun I had.

I'm not a great skater, or even a good one, and for the most part I just pride myself on being able to stay erect and making it home without any major injuries (bruises from falling don't count), but I love skating anyway.

The girls were all super well behaved, they got along fabulously, I don't think any one girl ever felt left out, and no one got hurt (with the exception of a few bruises and blisters).

Of the two girls who were the most afraid to go, one of them took to it instantly, (but she loves to rollerblade) and the other one was my buddy the whole time. Which was fine with me- we had a good time together.

Besides having a good time, I had fun getting to know Madison's friends better. What a bunch of silly, funny, cute, smart, kind, beautiful girls. I think she has a lot of really great friends. I don't think I could have picked better ones for her.

Oh, and just in case any one was wondering whether the year long wait was worth it for her- it was- she said it was the best birthday ever.

Happy 10th birthday Madison!

Happy birthday to my one and only baby girl. You're beautiful inside and out. I love you!!

My Christmas Miracle

John put up lights on the outside of the house.

Before December.

Without any whining, begging, pleading, etc, from the kids or I.

It's been so long since we've had Christmas lights I had given up asking.

In fact, I was starting to count down the years until Nick could do it by himself.

Why, you ask?

John, aka the Grinch, hates Christmas lights. "They waste money and time- two things that are in short supply this time of year."

So what happened? I'm not really sure, but the Grinch has yet to make an appearance at all this year, and I couldn't be happier.