Just Like The Number

Chocolate + Super Mario + Guns = A Merry Christmas

It was a quiet Christmas here.  Well, as quiet as a day could be with two rambunctious, stir-crazy kids.  It was just the four of us this year, as my parents spent Christmas in Dallas with my sister's family.  Where they had snow.  And we got rain.  But I digress.  Despite it being quiet and wet instead of white, we had a lovely day.

Family of four, but only two stockings.  I love the idea of stockings for adults, but just buying the normal gifts for me gives Mike a seasonal nervous tic.  I'd hate to send him over the edge during the holidays.  Eli's stocking has the cutest crocodile tongs from Kuhn Rikon peeking out.  I envisioned him using them for some Montessori-esque manipulative exercises.  He envisions using them for pinching Elena.  Elena's stocking has her very first copy of Mad Libs peeking out.  Do you know how many times you can use "poop" as a noun and an verb? A lot.

Can we open presents now? Huh? Can we? Can we? Yes? Presents? Now? 

Santa delivered on Elena's most desired gift -  New Super Mario Bros. Wii.  She started playing as soon as we cleared a path through the wrapping paper to the Wii.  In fact, she's still playing.  

Not really.  I make her stop to use the bathroom and from midnight to 6 a.m.

Not really.  But it feels like it's on that much.  Hum the Mario theme music with me now . . .

Eli got some nice gifts as well, but his favorite at this particular moment was the leftover Halloween chocolate Elena wrapped up in a toilet paper tube for him.  This is precisely why Mike and I don't do stockings for each other.  He'd get the equivalent of Super Mario Bros. Wii in his stocking, I'd get leftover candy in a toilet paper tube in mine.  Then again, I do like chocolate. 

The Nerf guns for both kids are also a big hit, literally and figuratively.  There's something so right about siblings chasing each other around the house screaming, "I'm gonna get you!"  

I hope your Christmas was merry and bright, filled with equal parts of joy and chocolate.

Lovely Christmas

Love came down at Christmas
Love, a lovely love divine
Love was born at Christmas
Stars and angels gave the sign

Love will be our token
Love be yours, and love be mine
Love from God to all of us
Love for plea and gift a sign

    ~ Christina Rossetti

Elena sang this carol at church a few days ago.  A few days later I heard the Jars of Clay version.  I wasn't familiar with the carol, but it's become my favorite of the season.  Despite my best preparations, the few days we spent out of town just before Christmas caused me to spend the two days before Christmas scrambling to get the last few things done.  I found myself running errands the morning of Christmas eve and quickly settling into a gloomy funk.  Grumpy over cookies not decorated, feeling guilty about activities I'd planned for the kids that we never got around to doing, missing my family.  And then this song came on the radio.

I am notorious for planning too much, for expecting perfection, for getting easily frustrated when things don't go according to plans.  As I listened to the lyrics, I realized I have a choice.  I can focus on the details of Christmas, and in return drive myself and my family crazy.  Or I can focus on the love.

I chose love.  It hasn't been a perfect Christmas, if you pay attention to the details.  The cookies still aren't decorated.  There were tears when we thought the Wii was broken.  Tempers flared when Eli's monstrosity of a race track wouldn't come together properly (was there ever more dreaded phrase than Adult Assembly Required?). I still miss my family.  

But there is so much love.  Love for and from my children, who were ecstatic this morning and who are still floating on a cloud of happiness.  Love for and from my husband, who wants nothing but the best for me and our family.  Love for and from my family, who support me in all I do.  Love for and from my faithful readers of this blog, who encourage me with their kind words to pursue a passion for writing.  And last, but most important, love for and from Christ, without whom none of this would be possible.

Merry Christmas to you and yours.  May your day be filled with love.

Angie & Ana's First (But Definitely Not Last!) Annual Cookie Exchange

At the beginning of every holiday season, I like to take some time to think about how I want to spend these few magical weeks.  It's a yearly reevaluation of sorts - what did we do last year that we loved?  What have we always talked about doing but never attempted?  It's essentially trying on traditions and seeing which ones fit and become part of your family story and which ones become the equivalent of an itchy wool sweater passed on to Goodwill.  

For a few years now, my sister Suzan has hosted a cookie exchange that's become quite the envy of Coppell, Texas.  Unfortunately, we've yet to make Texas a Christmas tradition, so every year I miss out on the extravaganza.  This year I decided to take matters into  my own hands and host my own Cookie Exchange.  Seeing as how there seems to be a genetic predisposition to becoming a cookie diva, I enlisted my other sister, Ana, to co-host the cookie exchange.  With our fearless Texan sibling as our mentor, we went for it.

This Cookie Exchange tradition? It's no wool sweater.  It's cashmere, baby.  As long as cashmere sweaters go with elastic waist pants.  Because when you're done eating all the wonderful cookies our 19 guests baked? Those skinny jeans won't fit anymore.  Look at the pictures, though.  So worth it.  I'll work on my waistline in January.  For now, I'll just work on the six dozen cookies I scored when all was said and done. 

Happy nom nom nom Holidays nom nom nom!

C is for Cookie

Looking for me?  I'm not here today, but you can find me over at Inexpensively.  They asked me to do a guest post about my upcoming Cookie Exchange, and I was happy to yammer on and on about the big event and why you should host your own.  Come on over and say hi!  Extra points if you leave a comment over there about your favorite holiday cookie and the story behind it.

Hap, hap, happy Holidays

I really hope this isn't a sign of what kind of Christmas were in for.

Eli was so excited to see Santa.  Both kids ran up to him with glee.  Then Santa dropped Eli.  Twice.

It's kind of how I'm feeling.  I was so excited for this particular Christmas.  I was getting things done right and left.  We were going to have the most peaceful and "hap, hap, happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny effin' Kaye.*"

And then . . .

• My mom ends up in the hospital over Thanksgiving and the holiday just isn't the same without her.

• I seal and address over half of our Christmas cards before I realize our name isn't printed anywhere on the card.  Happy holidays from that family that looks vaguely familiar!

• There is an incident with our laptop.  I won't go into details, and I'm using it at this very moment, but the monitor has some interesting visual effects to work around.  Where is the Mac Book fairy when you need her?

• I step on the scale only to realize I've gained back every single pound I've lost since August.

I realize it's early in the season.  Therefore, I'm not ready to give in to my inner Scrooge yet.  I resolve to find the bright spots in an otherwise grumpy week.  This includes:

• Hearing Eli sing along to The Killers in the car.  And knowing the lyrics.

• Elena offering to set her alarm and wake up with Eli on the weekend.  She might not change diapers, but she makes a mean bagel and she knows how to work the TV.

• Seeing "New Moon" last Saturday.  Sparkly vampires and rock-hard werewolf abs can really elevate a girl's spirit.

• Wine and Graeter's Pumpkin Ice Cream.  Which very well could explain the recent weight gain.  Hmm . . .

Hope you're having a cheerier start to your holidays.  And if not?  Venting is always in season here at Just Like The Number.

*To paraphrase the great Clark Griswold, who also makes my holidays cheery and bright.

Halloween Recap: In Which I Nearly Forget To Photograph One of My Kids

I like to think that I do a pretty good job at documenting holidays and major events around here.  That's why I nearly dropped my camera (which would be bad, very bad) when we got home from trick-or-treating and I realized I had yet to take one! single picture of Elena.  Lest you think that I'm a bad mother who favors certain short, adorable tigers over bigger, older Padme Amidalas let me assure you that is not the case.  We spent the first part of our Halloween evening at a neighborhood party, and as soon as the older kids figured out it was time to start trick-or-treating, Elena was G-O-N-E, with Mike hustling after her and trying to keep up.  I never had a chance.

I thought I would take Eli to a few houses, let him have a bit of fun, and then we'd be done.  He was sold on Halloween from the first knock on the door.  He couldn't quite manage, "Trick-or-Treat!"  He preferred the more direct method of walking up to the door and saying, "More candy."  Mike's always been the one to take Elena trick-or-treating while I stayed home and passed out candy.  I never minded one bit.  I don't think I knew what I was missing.  Yeah, we have loads more candy than is good for us.  But seeing your little guy turn around after every house, giving you that look that says, "Can you believe it?  They're just giving away candy!"  Well, high-fructose corn syrup and artificial food coloring be damned.  It's worth it.

I'll leave you with a few of our favorite photos from the evening.

Tiger heads are really heavy.

I think I got a rock.

Rolling around in candy is normal, right?

Hope you had a Happy Halloween!

Wrap Today Up In A Giant Bow

Mother's Day is coming to an end, and I sit here in a state of bliss.  I told Mike I didn't want him to buy anything for me this year.  I saw him shudder; he knows what that means.  It means I want nothing but time and the permission to do the opposite of mothering: to loll about and be selfish.  I'm pretty sure he'd rather buy me something ridiculously expensive and call it a day, but after nearly 12 years of marriage and 6 years of Mother's Days under his belt he knows better.  And so there were no presents of the unwrappable sort.  Instead my gifts looked like this:

Waking up at 8:30 and rolling over to find the laptop in the space where my husband normally sleeps.  Getting showered with homemade gifts and little notes from Elena.  Homemade cinnamon rolls, coffee, and the Sunday paper to read at my leisure.  Finishing my coffee in bed with the laptop.  Chinese food for lunch.  More reading and an afternoon nap (lolling about is very taxing). Dinner with my parents.  Coming home to a clean house.  Having my daughter read Harry Potter to me.  Tucking my children into their beds.  Savoring a chocolate-covered caramel sprinkled with sea salt. 

 I haven't had a day this lazy and restful since, well, probably Mother's Day last year.  I knew I was still a mother because from time to time I would feel pangs of guilt about all the things I could be doing.  It's either motherhood or the remnants of my Catholic upbringing. 

Tomorrow it's back to normal, and that's okay.  My cup is full again.  That, and it will probably take Mike a whole year to recover from being at my beck and call.  Don't worry, babe.  Father's Day is just around the corner.

Because Explaining the Crucifixion To Your Kids Isn't Hard Enough

Around 8 a.m. on Easter morning I was already having visions of what my Easter round-up post was going to look like.  Baskets had been prepared the evening before and I thought they were quite fetching.  A cinnamon-vanilla baked french toast was in the oven, filling the kitchen with a heavenly aroma.  The kid's outfits for church were pressed and ready to go, and I just knew I was going to get some adorable pictures of them together.  After a week of cold, dreary rain, the sky was blue and the forecast was for temperatures in the 60s.  And for the first time in my nearly 7 years as a parent, I had gone the extra mile and hidden eggs in the back yard.  I was sipping my coffee at the kitchen table and thinking of all these wonderful things that I would share here later.

And then Mike came downstairs, looked out the back doors, and said, "What the hell is going on out there?"

This would be going on out there:

A hawk was perched on the top of our play set.  Maybe he saw all the eggs in our yard and thought it was some kind of breakfast buffet.  The eggs weren't to his liking, but not to worry.  He wouldn't starve.  He found his very own Peep, formerly known as Robin Red Breast.  The fact that he was enjoying an Easter breakfast in our backyard wasn't a problem.  In fact, it was borderline cool.  This, however, was not cool:

That stuff all over the plastic egg and the ground?  It's not poop, as Elena guessed.  That would be feathers.  Poor little Robin Red Breast feathers.  Every time he took a peck or a bite or whatever it is they do, a shower of feathers would float to the ground.

If you even think about letting those kids out here to hunt for Easter eggs before I'm finished I will carry off that little round chickadee of yours and have him for dinner.



Dang.  I thought it had a marshmallow center.



He eventually did fly off, and thankfully he took his leftovers with him.  Nobody wanted to pick up this egg.  I wonder why.

As I'm taking pictures of the egg and all the feathers underneath, Elena says, "Momma, since you're so interested in taking pictures of it, you should be the one to get it.  And then put it in my basket, m'kay?"

After all that excitement, it was a relatively peaceful day.  Elena was thrilled with the face-painting set she found in her basket and proceeded to paint anyone that sat still for 2 minutes.  Eli ate his weight in candy and has declared Easter the best holiday ever.  And as for all those adorable pictures I was going to get of the kids together in their Easter best?  Yeah, not so much.  Apparently threatening them to sit still and smile nicely or the hawk will come back and peck their eyes out wasn't my best idea.  Who knew?

Kiss Kiss From Us Us

Happy Valentine's Day from all of us to all of you.  If you have a hot date with your sweetie tonight and you are wondering what to wear, allow my in-house fashion consultant to model something festive:

I just provide the clothing, people.  How they will be combined is beyond my control.

I will not be wearing anything nearly as beautiful this evening.  We are celebrating by watching a bunch of other people's kids so they can get all dressed up.  Yup, guess who drew Feb. 14th as their night to work Parents' Night Out? 

But ya'll have a lovely day and evening.  MWAH!