Operation We Need a Little Christmas...

Papa and Gigi went on an adventure trip to see the penguins in Antarctica from Thanksgiving through mid-December. And although they were surrounded by snow their whole trip, I had a feeling that they would return home and not really have the energy to put up all their Christmas decorations. Jet lag will do that to you.  We were their transportation to and from the airport so I knew their exact travel schedule. And the Sunday before we were to pick them up at the airport, we snuck over to their house and up into their attic and we put up all their Christmas decorations!  Every year, they buy a live tree and say to each other "That's the best looking tree we've ever had." And usually they buy one for $20 at the grocery store parking lot or wherever. I know they prefer a live tree, so we went to pick one out at Lowes on the way over.  I'm inexperienced at the art of picking out a live tree as we have a fake one and relish the simplicity and low maintenance-ness of pulling the same tree out of the box each year. However, there is nothing quite like the smell of a live tree. That said, I never knew there was such an art in selecting a tree.  Actually, I still can't say that I have mastered this art form as when shopping in freezing temperatures with four boys in tow, actually three out of the car with me and one refusing to step out into the tundra of the parking lot. Then rapidly we were rushing up and down the aisles of trees as the remaining child in the car had ejected himself from his child restraint seat and was in the driver's seat honking the horn to hurry us along. (Bad mommy, leaving child in car, now everyone hears and sees it's your child in the parking lot. UG!) The transaction complete we load the petite tree in the back of our loud vehicle and we're off to commence Operation We Need a Little Christmas. It was not until arrival and unbinding the demure tree that I realized she was left at the tree lot because she has a significant bow to her trunk that causes her to lean to the side no matter how tightly one adjusts her in the Christmas tree stand.  Oh well, it's part of her charm. I named her Alice. Alice the Christmas Tree Angel. We worked feverishly to hang the trappings, the tinsel, the buttons and bows and make sure Papa and Gigi's house really did glows. (ok, there I go regressing to Dr. Seuss speak again. It happens when one reads How the Grinch Stole Christmas on command with too great a frequency.) Nonetheless, their house was soon full of Christmas cheer from the wreath on the front door to the Christmas Moose hanging in the bathroom and the Baaa-hum-bug lamb sign in the kitchen.  We slunk back home and I swore the boyz to secrecy not to tell Papa & Gigi until they walked into their own home and saw with their own eyes.  Carter and Kiefer were at school the morning we picked them up at the airport so I knew they weren't a risk and Griffin and Fletcher were buckled in their carseats in the back but when we pulled into their driveway Fletcher started to say, "Gigi, we…." and I cut him off before he could say anything else until they discovered it themselves.  They were amazed! The first thing TJ said was, "Oh, you found the tree in the backyard?!" I asked, 'Huh? what tree?" Ends up he knew they would sell out of the good trees while they were gone so he had already bought a nice straight one. But no, I didn't notice that at all! The birds enjoyed that one this season and Papa and Gigi said with all sincerity that they "had never had such a beautiful tree!"(As long as you tilt your head sideways, she was!) Trying to teach the kids through actions that Christmas is all about giving… and that it might be giving of your time more than anything that means the most.  Papa & Gigi still talk about that tree… and how much they were dreading having to put up all their decorations as tired as they were.  Operation We Need A Little Christmas was deemed a success! Ho! Ho! Ho!

The Christmas Tree Capers Commencing in Operation We Need a Little Christmas

All the trappings, trimmings, boxes and bows

Don't get caught!

There she glows!

"Ok everybody, now lean!" There now she looks straight!?

"The Nicest Tree Ever"

On Christmas Day… everyone lean… oops, too far! (All the grandkids: F, G, K, C, C, A, J, N)

The Jays

Papa & Gigi standing by the nicest tree they've had!

She's better on tilt

Vortex of Time and Vaccum of Disaster

Yesterday afternoon, I found myself saying out loud in a moment of despair, "What is it that happens between the hours of 4-7 p.m. that it's a vortex of time and a vaccum of disaster?" It's become my least favorite time of the day.  Carter and Kiefer get off the bus at 3 p.m. and we do a snack and I always let them play first thing. I think all children need to play more. Unprogrammed playtime is a dying art. But when we start the homework machine at 4 p.m. (or at least attempt to start it) the wheels fall off.  Or maybe it's more like a train wreck.

Carter's typically self-motivated and will willingly sit down and do his homework and often is finished in 20 minutes. Kiefer, on the other hand, is pretty much the opposite. I have to physically sit down with him, often pulling him back into his chair or fetching the pencil that he throws in frustration or snagging his blanket from him so he'll get his thumb out of his mouth to write with his right hand. This goes on for a while.

Oh, and did I mention dinner prep? The two always collide. Other, more organized, better prepared moms would have dinner made ahead of time or militarily mapped out on a spread sheet for the month complete with new recipes to try and a shopping list! But this disheveled, disorganized mom looks into the freezer at a bag of frozen chicken breasts at about 5:30 p.m. and wonders what's for dinner?

If you've ever seen the opening scene to the movie "The American President" with Michael Douglass as the president - it is the essence of what I'm feeling as I stare into my freezer.  Instead of staring at frozen food,  in the movie, the President is entering the West Wing being followed by a band of advisors coaching him on names, his schedule, political threats, edits to his upcoming State of the Union address and policy recommendations and debates as they walk along and enter the elevator. Then as the elevator doors open, you see him greeted by the panic stricken face of his African American female press secretary who says to him, in that tone of voice that only a ticked off African American woman can give, "You give me this at 5 o'clock? Five o'clock's news time! You don't give me this at 5 o'clock? What am I supposed to do with this at 5 o'clock?!!?" That's exactly how I feel.  And it only gets worse from there.

Griffin and Fletcher are usually very good about playing together but during the time when Mommy needs to be sitting down to keep Kiefer focused on math or spelling or reading or whatever, of course, that's when they need me. They come to me with policy changes or political threats or reports of terrorist attacks and they don't realize that it's news time for me. We're awaiting nuclear chemical weapon implosion melt downs if I don't prepare dinner by 6:30 p.m. But they just don't seem to understand the magnitude of the ticking clock.

Oh, and did I mention the state of affairs? As in the condition of my kitchen floors and countertops? I sometimes regret that I made the choice long ago to raise creative, imaginative kids.  Seriously, do you know how messy that is? But it's too late now. Now they are creative, imaginative kids and that comes with some serious baggage.  For example, last night at about 5:15 p.m. when I still hadn't started anything for dinner (and in the back of my mind wondering if we'd already had chicken nuggets this week for dinner? Could we do it again tonight?) I was kneeling on the floor picking up a million scraps of paper that Griffin and Fletcher had been entertaining themselves cutting (and I think a few locks of Griffin's hair was in that pile, but that's a different story for a different blog) and then I see the state of the kitchen table is covered at all 8 place settings with homework, rainbow loom boxes, rubberbands and patterns, my ipad that Carter's been using to video himself creating a new rainbow loom pattern, then there's library books, school books, piles of papers from the day's school work and the current homework that's being avoided by Kiefer. I sit down for a little more tudoring and homework coaching and encouraging and before I know it it's 6 o'clock. News time. Still no dinner. Finally, at 7 p.m. dinner was served. Grilled cheese, left over meatloaf and salmon and asparagus for those over 40. Nuclear disaster averted for another day. We'll see what tomorrow holds.

It's Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas...

We've now entered my favorite time of year! Summer's only rival is December! Maybe it's because my birthday is this month, but I think my love for December is treasured memories of Christmases past and trying to create positive memories for our children of their Christmases past and present. (and future?!)

It's our family tradition that the day after Thanksgiving, we put up the tree and deck that halls for Christmas.

This year, Jim's aunt was in town so we had a ladies lunch the day after Thanksgiving and I came home to a decorated house. The tree was up, the garland strung, the lights up, trees in each boyz' room. It was like someone flipped a switch and it was instantly Christmas. I know the amount of work involved and the challenge of reining in all the helpful energy so as not to destroy every Christmas ornament in the process of hanging them up!

But now that we have decorated, it's time for the season's traditions to commence!
So far, in this first week of December, Daddy-O and I have attended a live Christmas concert, we've watched at least two Christmas cartoons, listened to the Muppets and John Denver Christmas CD more times than can be counted already, we've consumed almost a full can of peppermint hot cocoa and one bag of mini marshmallows. We had our first Christmas Tea Party after dinner Tuesday night. Daddy-O was traveling and we ditched bath time in exchange for peppermint cocoa served from the Christmas Tree Tea Pot into santa mugs accompanied by peppermint ice cream.  So far, the boyz have only trashed the house three times playing Santa using my hot mits as stockings and stuffing them with toys.  And the tree is faring better than usual and we've not lost or broken any ornaments - yet. It's still early. But it seems that Carter's favorite place to be is behind the Christmas tree. He even did his homework back there the other day!

I actually accomplished a little Christmas shopping midweek while the boyz were all at school. I feel like Santa driving his sleigh as all the presents are still in the back of my car covered up under a blanket. I haven't had a chance to bring them inside to hide them in my secret stash yet. But so far they haven't noticed their current hiding place. Thankfully!

We've been talking about "Giving Gifts to Jesus" - which is my attempt to teach them that this advent season is really about giving. We keep track of simple acts of kindness or small gestures of self-sacrifice  and write them down in our Advent calendar house.  There have been some fun discussions about what  gifts we can give Jesus. Griffin wants to give Jesus a Pogo Stick for Christmas! Well, who wouldn't, right?

Then today we went through two boxes of butter, a half dozen eggs and a five pound bag of flour making our fist batch of Christmas cookies! Carter and Kiefer were at school but I couldn't hold Griffin and Fletcher back anymore so we made some dough and only cut out half the cookies, saving the other half for big brothers.

Fletcher was playing in the sugar jar like a sand box and when we were done he was so sugar coated I had to rinse him off in the sink!

Then, just on cue, we got our first snowfall this evening! It began on my way out of church from a Christmas concert.  The boyz were so excited they couldn't sleep.  Niether can I! I guess that's why I'm up writing at two in the morning!? It's still coming down and I'm wondering if we'll have a school delay. I hope we do! We need to dust off the sleds and make some tracks first thing!

As I attempted to put the boyz back to bed this evening, they pressed their noses against the frosty window and we watched the silent snow fall icing the trees and grass below. We sang together, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas."


Only 20 days till Christmas! (Yay! There's still lots of memory making to come!!)

Yes, I love this time of year!

An Attitude of Gratitude

We have so much to be thankful for. In our family. In our country. In our lives. But why is it that we tend to get so busy and distracted that we can forget? One of the many lessons we/I am trying to teach our boyz is to have a grateful heart. I often say, when handing out treats, etc. "A grateful heart says... thank you!" and have them say thank you with me. But such a simple concept is not necessarily instinctive or easy.  We try though. It seems some are more naturally predisposed to gratitude than others. Take Fletcher, for example. I can remember being almost in tears one time when he said, "Thank you for changing my diaper, Mommy!" Of course! It's my job! It's also my privilege to be the one to take care of these boyz.

Anyhow, I had seen an idea on a blog I follow that had a print out for leaves to make your own family Thanks Giving Tree.  I picked up a few random sticks from the yard and make a stick bouquet. (Daddy-O wasn't too sure about this one!) but then one night at dinner I had everyone take leaves off the tree, read the Bible verse and then write on the back something they were thankful for.

The kids really got into this! And the leaves in their writing are really something to treasure! How we delight in hearing our children say thank you! It must be a glimpse of how much our Heavenly Father delights in hearing our prayers of gratitude and thanksgiving.  

Thanksgiving is so much more than just a food binging holiday. It's actually become my favorite holiday. Mainly that it's so laid back, at least in our family. You show up, circle up for prayer, say what you're thankful for, eat, then hang out and enjoy each other's company for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Movies and football games are watched, poetry, songs, stories and laughs are shared, games are played, sometimes walks are taken, good food is always consumed -again and again! But it's really just about being together - sometimes with those we only see that time of year!

But I want to keep an attitude of gratitude all the year long. And I know that in order to teach the virtue of thankfulness to my children I need to model it myself.

So our list of leaves was a start! Here's what they came up with:

I'm thankful for...

Zebras (Griffin)

Cars (Griffin)

Balls (Griffin - drew a picture)

My bike (Fletcher)

Some sweet little scribbles (Fletcher)

Books that are good (Carter)

Our family (Mom)

God (Carter)

My singing voice (Carter)

Mom, Dad, Kiefer, Griffin and Fletcher, Alan, Jay, Debbie, Dough, Nana, Papa Dick, Papa & Gigi, Papa Tom & Grammy Pat, Mark & Sarah... (ran out of room) (Carter)

Soft Swords (Fletcher)

Pumpkins (drew a picture, Griffin)

Married to mom! (Daddy0)

Monkeys (Griffin)

Daddy's surgery and recovery, and donor tissue (mom)

Jesus and the Bible and God's love

Grateful to be dad to four awesome boys (daddy-O)

Good family (Carter)

Our Thanks Giving Tree

Pilgrim Griffin made his hat and turkey apple at preschool, so proud!

Taking turns being pilgrims and Indians

A little later, getting in the canoe as Indians - using my duster as their paddle. (I promise they're wearing pajama bottoms, you just can't see them!) :)

Is this kind of like being up a creek without a duster?

We made some kid friendly turkey treats

These got gobbled up!

Post Thanksgiving movie viewing

Aunt Phyllis came down from Chicago to join us for Thanksgiving this year!

Sally and Susie acting out Little Orphan Annie "And the Gobblins Will Get Ya If you Don't Watch Out!"

Balcony seats for poetry reading!

Aunt Susie and Fletcher share a sweet moment as he eats his 8th turkey cookie of the evening. (I think it's the only turkey he consumed that day!)

Sally's a school librarian and storytime with Sally is always a highlight

What do you do when there's a little peace and quiet?

If there's a rare moment when there's a little peace and quiet, some might think to indulge and treat themselves to a little pampering. A pedicure, perhaps? But to a mom, especially one with four busy boyz, when there's a moment's quiet, I start to worry. There's actually a maternal clock that sounds the alarm when the silence has gone on too long. (Which is usually only about 5 minutes!) This happened the other day.  I was actually enjoying a few moments of quiet and I had actually just sat down on the couch. Just when I started to get comfortable, I thought, "Uh oh, it's too quiet. Where's Fletcher?" At that exact moment I heard crying.   I followed the cries as my heart quickened. He was upstairs. The cries were coming from my bathroom. "Uh oh!" I started thinking of all the sharp objects he could have empaled himself with - fingernail trimmers, razor blade refills...  When I enter the bathroom I see him perched up on my countertop crying and a lot of red all over his foot, his jeans, my towel. Oh no! But as I approach, I realize his cries aren't cries of pain, they're cries of frustration. He's upset. He's trying to tell me something. I look more closely and realize the red isn't blood... it's fingernail polish!  He's crying and saying, "I can't get it off!"  (but it's more like "I caaaannnnn'ttt geeeetttt iiiiittttt  oooooooofffff!!!!")  I start to laugh. And I tell him, "No, you're right, it won't come off. Let me help you."  Then I asked him, "Were you trying to paint your toenails?" "Uh huh" comes his sweet reply. Who could be mad at a sweet face like his? I guess he was trying to give his toes a bit of pampering during his moment of peace and quiet.  That will teach me to leave a new bottle of fingernail polish out on my vanity! First and last time for that! Whew!  He certainly keeps me on my toes!!

Who could be mad at a face like that? :) 

Lovely toes! (Note the red all over the jeans!!) 

He's seen me paint my toes, so why not, right?

He tried to clean up, it just wasn't working!
I later noticed red all over the handle of my faucet.  It just wouldn't wash off! 

Preschool Preview

We were at the preschool preview this morning where we get to meet the teachers and play for a while to entice the kiddos to want to come back when school starts.  My boys were eager and excited to go (which I took for granted until I watched one mom drag her son by the arm through the parking lot.)  Their excitement only grew when we entered the familiar room that was Griffin’s last year and now it’s Fletcher’s room. And they both settled in quickly to play with the bat man cave and black helicopters with moving propellers.  I was relieved and a bit nervous for the teachers when I learned that there are 11 boys in the class and just a small handful of girls.  Fletcher will do well. Hopefully the teachers will survive.  

I couldn’t help but notice the pack of boys on the floor, each laying on their sides making motor noises and navigating around each other to all get their hands on the bat cave.  And over at the table, the teachers had aspirationally set out cups of crayons and stacks of coloring pages. But lo and behold, several prim and prettily dressed girls with their floral sundresses, sandals and pigtails pulled up a chair and began to color and expertly scratch out their names.  “Oh,” I thought to myself. “I guess I should start working with Griffin on writing his name, these chicks are even younger.”  Then I couldn’t help but smile as I observed Madelyn, who’s name I know because she had written it so nicely, was on the verge of tears when the tip of her new fushia crayon broke.  Her mother reassured her that it would still work but based on the frustration and sheer disappointment written on her brow, I wasn’t sure she’s ever going to recover from this tragedy.  I had to bite my lip not to laugh outloud.  My boyz break crayons for sport! Fletcher just recently stopped unwrapping them and eating them like candy.  Ok, I’m adding the those five little girls to the prayer list who have to endure preschool with 11 little boys.  Fast forward 30 years and Madelyn will be standing over her sons asking them, with all seriousness, "Why did you just break all the new crayons!?"  I guess it's named Preschool Preview for a reason.