Tucking away Christmas memories

So, I told you how our pre-Christmas season went (a trip home to OH). And now a bit about Christmas Day. In spite of how this list may "read", I assure you, we had a LOVELY day.

HIGHLIGHTS:
-Reece ate pirogi and smelts until he got sick. Literally. He barfed in his bed in the middle of the night. Twice. I cleaned him and his bed the first time, then gave him a Children's Tums. Never heard round 2 (he usually cries so we know, which he didn't do.) Found him sleeping in pink Tums puke on Christmas morning. Swell!

-Speaking of pirogi, Carl boiled all 5 pounds of potatoes. Do I need 5 lbs of potatoes to make pirogi for five people? Well, would you eat a whole pound of potatoes yourself? Of course not. But given Reece's barfing episodes, I assume at least he tried. So, what's a woman to do with all those potatoes? Easy. I rolled pirogi as big as your head. LOTS of them. They were Texas pirogi, I tell you. And don't harp on me because I failed to put on an apron first. I'm just glad I got 'em done.


-Brandon came down with explosive diarrhea. We had planned to go to Christmas eve services. However, I'm thinking we would have been asked to leave with Brandon (as the workers muttered, "And never come back") if we had taken him to church. For those who are keeping tally marks, I was now cleaning bodily ick from both ends, two different children, in the same 12 hour period. Did I mention it was Christmas eve? Good thing I didn't have anything better to do (rolls eyes).

-Carl woke up on Christmas Day feeling sick (gosh, can't imagine why) and had to go back to work (great timing for a return from vacation first day back).

-Since we deferred gift opening until Daddy came home at 5:45 pm, I made my kids do school. Yeah, well while you're calling me the meanest homeschool mom ever, just give me the Miss Congeniality banner too. Why? Because I don't give snow days either.

-Olivia screamed with delight as she opened her gifts. I mean, my 8yo literally screamed and spoke in unnaturally high pitches of excitement . Her joy was thoroughly intoxicating, yet bittersweet at the same time. I'm thinking it was the height of childhood Christmases for her. Pass the Kleenex.

-Reece needed a CSI kit (less the asbestos dust) because he totally micro inspected every detail of every box he opened. He doesn't squeal with joy like Olivia. He's contemplative and he'll straight up tell you if he doesn't like something. He mulls things over, as he's doing in this next photo. I had taken the tree down the night before while the kids were sleeping. I came downstairs the next morniing to find Reece looking like Eeyore, sitting in the spot where his tree had been. A quick inquiry revealed that yes, he was feeling sad about his tree being gone.



-Cierah wanted her mug in as many photos as possible. So, as I snapped a sibling I would hear a somewhat sarcastic tone saying, "He-looOO!", in which I would discover staged poses and forced smiles as she awaited the click and flash of my camera.

-Now here's a Christmas Day moment. My neighbor was cuffed and stuffed. Uh huh, on Christmas Day. He moved someone in the day before Christmas eve. It might be the girlfriend who left him last spring, the one who told me he was abusing her, the one whose very wild son damaged several sections of our fence, the one whose children kept poor company and had our nice culdy looking like a street gang headquarters. Anyway, regardless of who it is (they haven't made many public appearances), 2 sheriffs were there on Christmas Day. Oh, and we were already contemplating how to deal with neighbor guy's barking dog (he leaves it out at 5am and it barks ALL DAY until he returns from work.) Well, whoever moved in brought two more dogs. One is definitely half Pit bull (you might think they get a bad rap, but I don't.) Sigh.

-Mormon missionaries came to the door on Christmas eve. I wish we could have invited them in for pirogi and a sharing of our faith as well, but the kids were just too sick.

-Liv gave me a ring. Now this was S-W-E-E-T. After all the gifts had been opened, she passed by and very casually said, "There's something for you on your bed. I think Santa might have left a gift there."
I teased. "Uh uh!"
She continued, "Uh huuuuh. You might want to check it out." A few minutes later, I discovered this on my bed.



And inside, this.


Olivia had taken one of her toy rings and placed it in her most special box; the box her Nana used to present a most special ring to her just a week before. That box had contained a ring that my mom had received as a child from her much older sister, Toni. Toni was 13 years older than my mom and she died a week after giving birth to her first child. Needless to say, the ring Olivia received from my mom is very special and she does seem to understand that. So for her to use that box to give me one of her "treasured" rings told me how truly giving her heart was in that moment. It was a very special gift indeed. She walked in as I was admiring my gift. I began.
"Whoa! You were right. Santa did leave me a gift. Look at it. It's so beautiful. I absolutely love it."
"Uh,..mom??? I hate to tell you this but uh,...Santa didn't leave that. I'm Santa. It's from me." She smiled ear to ear.
(Insert much drama from mom. Gasps. Raised eyebrows. Gaping mouth.)
I then told her how much I loved my gift, slipped it on and showed it off for all to see.

Okay then.
Some good highlights.
Some not so good.
But even in spite of the less than stellar moments, many things were right this Christmas. Our church body brought their gifts to Jesus (singing, musical instruments, etc.), we got to spend part of the season back home in Ohio with family, my immediate family is healthy in spite of the virus that passed through, Carl survived his Christmas season root canal, Carl read the Christmas story to the children from Luke, the kids are at that peak Christmas wonder of childhood, we are now on adoptive status with Brandon, I nearly finished my vacation scrapbook (100+ photos), and as for me and my house, we will (continue to) serve the Lord. Joshua 24:15

Onward now, 2008!

Toni

Blog fodder: the husband

Carl cracked me up the other day. It's okay. He knows he's blog fodder. In fact, we've been laughing at with one another for a very long time.
First, on the way home from work he called me from the gas station with the following news;
"Honey, hold off on making dinner tomorrow. I may be taking us out. Corndogs are on sale 2 for a dollar here! You need time to think about it, sure. No need to commit right now. Just mull it over."

Well! I may not be a princess, but I do have my standards. And corndogs at a local gas station don't cut it. No, I prefer the shay chicken salad served in triangle shaped containers with the plastic wrap on them. Because I'm classy like that.


And he cracked me up some more too.
That night we took down the tree (or more accurately, *I* took down the tree while he grocery shopped, what with that pine sap allergy and all.) Have you ever tried to bag a live pine? It aint pretty, folks. It's kind of like trying to diaper an elephant (if you've ever given that a shot).

Okay, so. Tree bagged and curbed. On to the needle cleanup (and if you're one of the three hundreds of people who regularly read my blog, then you know I wasn't up for another cleanup, a la my previous blog entry.) I grabbed the hand vac because if you know anything about live needle cleanups, they'll put a kill on your upright vacuum cleaner (it only took us three rounds of "take this beast apart and clean out the needle jams with a wire coat hanger" to learn that lesson). So, I was hand vaccing my little heart out when what to my wondering eyes should appear? But a kind hearted hubs and his "vacuum" quite queer.
I crawled along using my trusty handvac with the limp handle (Carl didn't tuck it far enough back on the shelf last week and it came crashing to the floor, the handle splitting on impact.) And as I did so, Carl joined me in my efforts, bringing his own vac of sorts.
Let us pause to allow the photo speak for itself, shall we?

Isn't she a beaut? No. NoooOo! Not the silver hand vac. Look closer.
The trusty Hilljack Handvac XLR.
Packing tape, if you will.
In all seriousness, he crawled beside me, Hilljack in hand, trying to assist with the needle cleanup. As if that weren't enough, he then went the extra mile. As I attempted to vacuum needles from along the baseboards he insisted, "Don't worry about that. I'll get it for you." Nothing says I love you like a doting hubby and his trusty Hilljack.
I love you right back, Babes. Kiss. Hug.

And now, as we begin the new year, do me (and you) a favor. Head on over to Mixed Bouquet and say hello to my friend Marilyn. Her New Year post will truly bless and inspire you.

Toni

Fun, fun and DONE!

Fun, fun! That's how the last 24 hours have been (And just for the record, I'm being snarky, folks.) Lessee...

-Went to Penn Station for dinner, where Brandon (who has been sick) gagged at the sight of food. Now, I have to say. It was quite funny to see our 1yo smiling and gagging all at the same time. It was even a bit funny when Carl and I got too engaged in chatting with our other kids (who wanted to sit at their own booth behind Carl) to notice that our 1yo got a hold of Carl's iced tea and was loading up on as much caffeine as possible while he could (with half of it spilling into his lap). But I wouldn't say it was exactly funny when he got this strange look on his face that left Carl and I with furred brows of confusion. Nor would I say it was funny that as we pondered, "Huh? What's that look for?" Brandon proceeded to chuck up 15 pounds of baby food and iced tea.
All over himself.
All over the high chair ("Mr. Penn Station dude, you might want to grab the sanitizer.")
All over the floor ("Mr. Penn Station dude, and grab the mop while you're at it.")
All over my shoes ("Mr. Penn Station dude, you wouldn't happen to have a spare pair of,....never mind.")
Nothing says delicious like a Penn Station sub served with the toxic aroma of baby yack. Nice!

***********************

-Went to Michael's to check out their after Christmas sale. All the good Gouda was already picked over, but I did find some smaller cheesy items in the dollar bins. I grabbed a few sticker and ribbon items for scrapbooking and headed to the checkout.

Scan. Wrong price.
Scan. Wrong price.
Scan. Dang it, wrong PRICE!
I began.

"Those items should all be on sale."
(scowling expression, then monotone) "They're ringing up full price for me."
"Well, I got them all from the dollar bins, so they should be 50 cents each."
"Uh huh. Well, they're not ringing up that way."
(bite tongue and proceed) "Uh huh. Well, they should be."
(sighs out loud, then picks up phone)"I'm gonna take care of this right now because I can see you're it's gonna be a problem all day." Dials extension.

"Yeah, Donna? We've got another sign reader customer here whose items are cheap to begin with and she won't just pay the flippin' dollars and get out of my face aren't ringing up on sale. She got them from the cheap, cheesy bottom of the barrel bins discount bins. Uh huh." (looks at me with that "we're talking about you" expression).
"Okay then, that's what I'm gonna do. Oh, and Donna? You'll need to pull those signs before I have more sign cops up here like this one a bunch of dissatisfied customers because of the error."

Error??? What error? They were Christmas items and there were signs EVERYWHERE that read 50% off. EVERY. WHERE.

You know, I think her digits were bruised last night after the angry plunking she did to type in my discount. But hey, a deal's a deal. If I had wanted full price cheap stuff, I'd have spent my money at Joanne (I have a discount card there, snicker snicker.) Carl says I needed to have a professional with me; one who knows how to read the signs and hold 'em accountable. I'm such an amateur by comparison. But (evil grin) I'm a great student of the master!!!

*****************************

-Carl woke me this morning before his shower, stating, "Did you set up the coffee last night?" He usually does it and had forgotten. Off I went, sleepy eyed, to put our morning pot on.

Icky, what in the world is that?

While making the coffee, I stepped in a big puddle of wet on the floor. Wet what? I dunno. It was bluish green in color. And it was about 3 inches from the baseboard under our kitchen sink. Not oozing out from under the baseboard. No water noted in the cabinets under the sink. Freestanding puddliness, if you will. But, what is it? I dunno. Puddles don't generally just appear. There must be a source. I didn't really think so, but,...cats do tend to be prone to bladder infections. Could it be?

Smell check.

Nope (thank goodness).

But,...what IS it? I still DUNNO! I clean it up and assume it must be a melted down Noodle. Silly assumption, I know. But one reaches for bizarre answers when trying to explain the paranormal (which I don't ascribe to, so that makes it REALLY hard to explain away).

Clean up mess.
An hour later, mess has...GASP!...reappeared.
(play Twilight Zone ditty now.)
OKAY THEN, just what kind of freakish blue-green puddle IS this? I again open the cabinet, this time with a flash light.
Holy haberdashery, Batman!
Oh well, too late to save the pressboard. I literally did a clean sweep. One gigantic swipe of my arm to clear the entire cabinet out. Then the mess. The soppy wet mess under the sink. The mess that was leaking out the front left joint where the base of the cabinet meets the cabinet front (and thus the freestanding puddle that kept forming about 3" out from the baseboards).

Dry. Dry. DRY! I blow dried the now spot-warped pressboard until I couldn't stand it anymore. So, just where was the leak coming from? Well, I'm no plumber (though I play one on tv). But it appears our seal is broken around our right basin, where it meets the drain. Where the rubber meets the road if you will (I'm losin' it, I tell you. I'm losin' it.) It still doesn't explain the blue-green though. Not at all sure what that's about. Is the dishwasher somehow involved? Could the little bit of water left in the sink overnight with a bit of green dishwashing liquid, cause that deep of a color on the floor? I dunno. I can tell you this, though. It put a serious cramp in our homeschool morning and now I'm just,...just,...done.
I'm just done.
Done cleaning baby yack.
Done cleaning bluish-green mystery puddles.
Done cleaning up the floor of bad attitudes at the after Christmas sales.
Just done already.
So if you find yourself in need of a cleanup on aisle 9, don't call me. At least not until I change into a proper pair of plumber pants.

Toni

THURSDAY THIRTEEN

Thirteen resolutions for the New Year 1. January: Get a job like Jarrod of Subway commercial fame. I'm going for a niche, so I'll try, "I gained 10 pounds by eating Coldstone Creamery icecream every week." Watch for me in future advertisements. 2. February: Lick the sugar frosting off all Valentine cookies that pass my way (it's okay; I'll have the Coldstone Creamery gig anyway). 3. March: Catch that Leprechan (the kids and I make a trap every year. We've never caught him, but we do seem to snag his gold chocolate coins every year.) 4. April: Make a point of playing in more puddles with my kids (and if we're muddy, so be it). 5. May: Resist the urge to plan a g'zillion summer activities. 6.June: Enjoy my most favorite month of the year to its very fullest. This will include several drives in the country and several picnics at a nearby dam. 7.July: Go to fireworks with Uncle Scot and Aunt Lori in the dinky town of Rochester. 8.August: Savor the last days of summer with my kids, especially when all the local schools start back so very early but we don't begin homeschool until after Labor Day. 9.September: Attend as many highschool football games as we can manage. 10.October: Make several MORE drives into the country before winter steals the beautiful landscape away and transforms it into one that's sometimes beautiful, sometimes dreadful. 11.November: Resolve to find the positives in the long winter ahead, and to embrace it. 12.December: Place Christ at the center of our Christmas. 13. Scrap 'till I can't scrap anymore. My goal is to complete 3 years of photos.

Visit other "thirteeners" here!

Toni

All is right with the world

Well, the gifts are all opened (Christmas evening after Daddy got home from work) and all is right with the world. I'm left with reflections of the season; what we did, how we celebrated, whom we celebrated. One of the special things our family got to do was to head home to Ohio for five days, returning here just a few days before Christmas eve.

We originally planned to make the 6 hour drive on Sunday the 16Th, but a big nor'easter was due in the night before. Enter plan B.

Carl was scheduled for root canal on Saturday after work (I know, a Saturday evening root canal seems a tad, what, bizarre). He finally called me at 8:20 pm, telling me he was done. We had been toying with the idea of leaving after his dental work. However, it took much longer than I had anticipated and so I suggested we wait until Sunday as originally planned.

Uh, that was before weatherman Waldo threatened 5 more inches of snow that night, also stating freezing rain would begin in about 3 hours. Given that I had shoveled the drive twice that day and packed lickety split in case we had to leave earlier than planned, I again concluded that we needed to leave at 9pm when Carl got home.

And so we did. It was raining hard when we left and the roads, while not yet icy, were "slushy". They cleared about an hour east of the city and we never saw another rain drop or snowflake the rest of the way. Carl tired out around Columbus (it was after midnight by then), so I drove the rest of the way home (2½ more hours). We didn't climb into bed at my parents' house until 3:15am, but we made it safely. All is right with the world.

The next four days were a dizzying pace of wonderful holiday memories in the making with family. On Sunday, we were quite tired from our drive, so we just hung out with my parents, drinking coffee, cappuccinos, etc. The kids were ecstatic to be at their Nana and Papa's house and ventured out into the snow for some "back home" winter fun.

Monday, we ran some errands and did a bit of shopping too. Scrappers, I found 12x12 solid scrapbooking cardstock, 18 to 25 sheets per $1.00, acid free. WOO HOO! Olivia helped her Papa deliver flowers for the florist he works for. They're two peas in a pod, I tell you. In the evening, we met my brother Scot and sis-in-law Lori at the county nature center where the grounds and woods are transformed into a winter wonderland. There is a train ride through the woods, hot cocoa and cookies in the fireside room, and of course the 20 minute walk through the woods to see all the sponsored light displays. It was so very nice to spend that time with my brother and sister-in-law. The kids loved that they didn't have to share Uncle Scot and Aunt Lori with anyone. And sure, we all froze (it was bitter cold) but we had too much fun to take serious notice.

Olivia, Cierah, Carl, Brandon and Reece on the train. You were expecting something bigger? Well, this baby has been known to fall off the tracks if anyone leans over, tumbling riders into the snow.

The kids in the woods (see Brandon in the stroller?)

Tuesday we had a matching meeting with CPS, where we were placed on adoptive status with Brandon. This *IS* a big and important step, as it means he is now in his adoptive home and waiting for a court date to finalize. All is right with the world. We then rushed over to the health department for TB tests (Carl hacked up a lung as he checked in; I can only imagine what the secretary must have thought, lol), then went out to eat with family before heading to a local holiday event to meet up with Reece's birth sister and her family. The English Tudor home where the event was held, is gorgeous. A former judge in our hometown donated it to the city when he died many years ago. In fact, Carl and I had our wedding photos taken there. The kids all got their picture with Santa, then had hot chocolate together before we parted ways. In all, there were 7 children, ages 8 to 1. Yep, that's one mighty big chocolate sugar buzz.

The tudor home where we met Reece's birth sister.


Wednesday we celebrated Brandon's first birthday and, to a lesser degree, mine. The kids baked cookies with Uncle Scot, Aunt Lori, Nana and Papa. They had SUCH a great time doing this. Cierah literally put her whole hand in the sprinkles and would put mounds on top of each cookie, which someone would inevitably have to fix "finish" for her. And the bell shaped cookies came with a potential side of Pango Pango, as Reece sneezed right onto one while decorating it. Which one? Nobody was sure.Lori, Cierah, Scot, Reece, Mom, Dad, Olivia and Brandon decorating Christmas cookies together.

The kids also opened some gifts after dinner. I had visions of holes in the drywall when Olivia and Cierah rode new scooters down the hall. And Reece was thrilled with the beautiful new bike his Uncle Scot and Aunt Lori got him. And both girls put Aunt Jackie right to work with their new craft kits. Little Brando got the cutest outfits, pjs and a few new toys from family. Uncle Todd gave a generous gift of his own. It took Carl and I over an hour to pack our van as much as possible for the drive home the next day, lol. It was organized chaos, sure. But it was the kind of life moment that is earthly perfect in every way; family together, health intact, no crisis pressing down, holiday spirit flowing, and did I mention family together? All is right with the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "I don't wanna be 1." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


...Really, boxes make the best birthday gifts of all when you're one.

Thursday, Carl and I had to get our TB tests read before making our trip home. Olivia was doing her best to wear a brave goodbye face (she hates to leave and gets quite emotional about it). I'll add that she had about 7 band aids on her hand and one on her chest because she had insisted on chasing and holding my parents' Persian kitten the entire time. The kitten really is quite sweet. However, Olivia ignored our requests to stop chasing after it and, as she often does, she learned a lesson via natural consequence. I wish I'd taken a picture of the band aids because it was quite funny to see her covered in them.

Our time passed too soon (as it always does), so we said our goodbyes and made our way down the road. I was feeling nostalgic as we left, passing homes of childhood friends who are grown and gone like us. Reflecting on memories with my family and leisurely days with my childhood friends made it all the harder to leave, and yet all the sweeter to take in. And as I posted recently, we made our way past our old home in the country. It was the nostalgic icing on the cake. My cup was indeed full (not just half full either; it runneth over) but it was time to go back to the place God has identified as "home" for this season of our lives.

A boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do to fight off boredom for the long drive home (even if it means playing with a girl's pink Barbie computer).


As I now reflect, I'm reminded that God is so very able to meet our needs. For, even though we really miss so many people, places and things back home, we also have new and dear friends here in Indiana, a wonderful new church family, a nice home and new favorite places to make new memories. Life moves forward and there's an element of yearning and sadness that comes with it sometimes. But when I look at it through heaven fixed eyes? My glass truly is half full. And that's a Christmas gift I can treasure for all time.

Matthew 6:19-20
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal."

Toni

H.E.T..S.

I'm thinking of joining our local chapter of HETS.
I know.
I knooOOW!
It's time consuming and borders on making political statements.
But it's also quite prestigious and, really, a cause that my heart is passionate about.

You don't know what HETS is? Well, what rock have you been sleeping under? Everyone knows that HETS is Hoosiers for the Ethical Treatment of Sasquatch.
G'head, track down your local chapter and see how you can get involved.

From the Indiana Bigfoot Awareness website (and I quote);
Indiana Bigfoot Awareness Group is a "No Kill" website as it pertains to the intentional hunting or killing of a Bigfoot/Sasquatch.

I'm so glad I live in a state where citizens have carefully considered the future of this fictitious... superstitious... Willie Jo and the boys had a few too many on the porch last Friday night rare and mysterious creature.
Now, it's only a hunch. But I'm pretty confident the Loch Ness, Hogzilla and the Jackalope are also rightfully protected here.
Hoosiers! We're givers.

Toni

Boogie Man

Okay then. We were on our way home from church (no less), when dh made a stop at our local grocery store for a few last minute Christmas Eve dinner items. The kids and I listened to the radio while we waited in the van.

I reminded them for the umpteenth time that they were "sooooo lucky to have parents who grew up in the late 60's to early 80's."
Can you believe they roll their eyes every time I say this? Honestely, just what is that all about? ;)

So, KC and the Sunshine Band began to rock us out.

I'm your boogie man, I'm your boogie man.
Turn me on!
I'm your boogie man, I'm your boogie man.
I'll do what you want.

Only, when you're 6 years old (a la little man Reece), this song takes on a different meaning. For instance, I learned today that Boogie Man is a funny song. And I mean a very funny song, y'all. After all, any song about boogers (as Reece erroneously gathered) is sure to make a 6yo boy giggle. Seriously, throw in some misunderstood lyrics? Uh hem, well now,...just you try and stop my boy from gigglemania. You see, the following is what his ears heard (and sang...and pretended to act out).

I'm your boogie man, I'm your boogie man.
Turn me on!
I'm your boogie man, I'm your boogie man.
Chew what you want.

Oh, the giddiness of childhood!

Toni