The Worst Perfect Christmas EVER!

Ok, ok, ok...Clark Griswald gets the award for the Worst Perfect Christmas Ever; we'll just settle for second place. Don't get me wrong, we had a wonderful time but perfect? Hardly! Thankfully John preached a sermon earlier in the month reminding us to not get all strung out trying to create the perfect Christmas; for heaven's sake, the first Christmas lacked candlelight, crackling fires, packages and snow--it was simple and rude in it's very nature. I listened, got the point and I tried but I was hosting Christmas! I was going to be a grown lady! I was going to at least give it my best shot to be magical, all the while remembering that if things go hay-wire to just roll with it...but I don't roll very well. Before my parents arrived, I yelled at Birdie once for sitting on my porcelain plates although someone should have yelled at me for putting them where an-almost-2-year-old COULD sit on them (but I was pulling them out to set the table!) and I yelled at Beatle once for repeatedly coughing on the sugar cookie dough and eventually had to kick her out of the kitchen for further offenses (it icks me out when people tell me their kids helped make something because I know how hygenic children are). So, I tried to regroup and be laid back the rest of the day. My goal was to make the house perfect for when the guests arrived and then let go because I can only hold a house of cards together for so long, people! Once I regrouped, I let go of the stress and enjoyed it and our house looked beautiful! It did! I should have taken pictures but this one is scarily similar...


My parents were about 30 minutes away and I thought I would jump in the shower. A few minutes later Brent came barging in saying something. I had to get him to repeat it several times and lean out the door to figure out that he said, "Beatle just threw up." Oh freakin' no! Why does that child start to puking every time we're about to have a great time? It's so normal now that it feels just like the background music of the high moment video montage of our lives. So we get her set-up in the recliner. Jas dirties her diaper while BR's still cleaning Beatle's mess. So, the only one who realizes and greets my family at the door is a weak child with a puke bowl.

We hoped that it was Strep for Beatle but when Birdie threw up later that night, we knew the Holiday House had just become the House of Horrors. Brent and I subsequently got it and, while the girls were over it in less than a day, I'm still not right! I spent WAY more quality time with my bathroom than I wanted while having houseguests. Unfortunately, my parents wound up taking the virus home with them as a parting gift. We tried SO hard to keep it contained to just us.

Now for the Christmas Eve debacle heard 'round the world and will probably be the reason cited for why she is on Lockdown: Texas Women Prisons in 30 years.



Oh yeah, buddy. There are so many words I could use but to pick one--DISASTER! Santa's elves had been happily assembling a trampoline for the girls in our neighbor's backyard during the day on Christmas Eve. That was a risky move but successful so when night fell, the elves didn't have to do anything but move it into place while the girl elves stuffed stockings on Santa's behalf. Perfect! We delighted in our plan, mused at how smart the lead elf was and secretly back slapped each other for once again, a job well done. Please, please heed my advice. These are sage words from a woman who was chewed up and spit out by a cross-examination that felt more like from a shrewd prosecutor than a 6-year-old on Christmas Eve: NEVER, EVER LET YOUR CHILDREN NAP ON CHRISTMAS EVE! WEAR THEIR BUTTS OUT!

Beatle, all jacked up on sugarplums and her 2-hour-we-thought-she-was-still-recovering-from-the-tummy-bug-nap, came out of her room announcing that she couldn't sleep. I leapt at her, swooping her back into her bedroom but couldn't stop her wandering eyes from glancing over my shoulder and spying already full stockings. She burst into accusations and tears. "You stuff my stockings! You eat the cookies and make it look like Santa! You write the note with fancy handwriting! No wonder you all were so excited, you get to stay up and eat cookies and peek at your presents! THERE'S NO SANTA!!! Why??? Why did you do this to me???" She went on for several minutes--anger mixed with sorrow. At one point, I nervously giggled because I knew we effed this one up big time. I've wondered before if we should do Santa. I mean, I like the big guy and our parents did it for us but I never wanted our children to believe in a man/force they couldn't see and it turn out to be fake all the while we encourage them to believe in another man they can't see while we keep promising that HE'S real. But then again, I've never even heard of an adult that doesn't believe in Jesus because Santa isn't real! Laying beside her in her bed while she wailed, I realized that I have no idea what I'm doing as a parent. I'm just trying the best I can.

Aunt Suzy came in. I breathed a sigh of relief, ah, ye olde auntly advice and some much needed backup. She came and sat on the bed and, trying to assess the extent of the damage, asked, "What's wrong, Brenny?" Then, Beatle hammered away on her too. I could see the whites of Suzy's eyes in the dark bedroom get wider as Beatle descended further into her devastation and as quietly as she came in, Aunt Suzy got up, walked across the room and left me for dead! (But as I found out, she was calling in the big guns and went to fetch our resident-Wonderful-Counselor.)

Brent came in and spoke such soothing words to her and, with my partner there, I was able to find some words too that left her feeling excited instead of betrayed by the morning. (For the record: We've never looked her in the eye and said, "Yes, Brendle, there is a Santa." And, even at Easter when she proclaimed she loved Santa more than Jesus, Brent laid the hammer down on Passover Friday in his office but kids want to believe and she kept believing. Heck, we all want to believe in magic. So, through the whole thing, we could at least say that we did tell her the truth.) It was rough! But in the morning, she had brushed it off and had a fantastic time on her new trampoline and playing with the rest of her presents.

Birdie loves the trampoline and will say, "Outside, PEEEAASSS!" or "More jump." She was precious this year on Christmas. She knew how to open everything and with each thing she opened, she wanted to play with it right then and was perfectly content doing so until we gave her something else to open. And Beatle gave me my FAVORITE gift ever. She loves to craft but will usually come up with some doozy things that really stretch the imagination to get what she was getting out of the whole thing. She had crafted something in the play room in early December and wrapped it and put it under the tree. Honestly, I didn't give it much thought because I figured it would be some little junky "treasure". It was perfect though! The card said, "Thank you Mom for everything. I love you. Have something for you. Love, Brendle <3 :)" and inside was a red solo cup with three different facial expressions completed with googly eyes around it: mad, happy and not sure. So I can turn the cup and give everyone a warning as to how I feel throughout the day! (Poor kid, she knows I'm an emotional train-wreck apparently.) :) She gave such good gifts. What a big heart she has!

We truly did have a great week but sometimes I'm glad Christmas only comes 'round once a year! ;)

Fat Larry

Ahh...Larry's Pizza. We throw down in that place! We used to have one here but then we didn't and now we do again...the saga continues. We would drive a town away just to eat when we didn't have it. We broke the new one in today. I saw a girl from the fitness ministry up there and made her solemnly pledge she would not count how many times I got up to go back to the buffet. Since I drew attention to it, she probably kept a tally mark at her table. :) In the car, before we went in, Brent said in his most cautious voice, "Let's lose our minds in there." It took me a second to realize that the word "NOT" wasn't in that warning. Beatle and I have this running joke about that place; their supreme pizza is called "Fat Larry". When they are busy, the waitresses walk around with the pizza calling out what they have. On more than one occasion, Beatle and I have been hunched over, going to town on our slices when some one comes up behind us and calls us a "Fat Larry". It makes you want to spin around and ask if they kiss their mothers with that mouth until you realize that they're just offering you a slice of pizza. So, Beatle and I will randomly say to each other "Fat Larry!" We've gotten so used to it that we usually wind up calling the place Fat Larry's.

Today, Brent, Birdie and I had a really nice day. Brent was off work and neither of us had any obligations so we ran errands together. On our way home from Fat Larry's, he sighed a contented sigh and said, "I love it when it's just the two of us." Gesturing to the backseat, he continued, "And sometimes, I just ignore her and pretend like it's still just the two of us." Well, that explains a lot, buddy! :)

Wish me luck...we're going to try to do Santa pictures this weekend. I tried to lay the groundwork with Birdie but it was quite evident when she saw him earlier today that she hated his guts. She's going to be a cryer unless we can work through this in group therapy before our attempt.

Utah Peril

We were in the car the other afternoon and Beatle bursts out singing "Deck the Halls" but it's so funny because in these Christmas Carols there are a lot of old fashioned words that are hard for kids to get right. "...la, la, la, la. Join the ancient Utah peril. Fa, la, la, la..." "What did you just sing?" "Join the ancient Utah peril." "Oh!" I laughed a little. "What?" "Well, it's actually Join the ancient Yule-tide carol." She tried to say it a few times slowly but kept flubbing it up. With an exaggerated twang she said, "Oh mom, I'm just too cou-ntry to say it right."


The next evening, we were at the Fitness Ministry's Christmas gathering and before the meal our Minister of Activities was going to pray. I was feeding Jasmine on the bleachers while the rest of the fam had sat at a table across the gym. The minister, obviously emotional, started with "Lord Jesus, we celebrate you and only you this season." Then, from the peanut gallery, I hear Birdie, "NooooOOOOOOO!" and not long after, the supressed, church giggles being forced through Beatle's nose while her lips stayed buttoned. Oh my gosh, I can't take them ANYWHERE! :)

Christmas is kicking our butts. Last night, I went and did my churchly duties but as soon as my part was over, I loaded the girls up and went home early. Beatle's been extremely emotional everyday; everything just seems to be overwhelming to her right now. I can't blame her; when she leaves the house, sometimes she won't be back for 12 hours--that's too much for a 6-year-old. Brent and I have agreed that we are going to tag-team parties--someone stays home with the girls while the other goes to the necessary party.

We were asked to light the Advent Candles on Sunday morning. I made no promises that Birdie would mind. Honestly, I can't wait to see what happens. Plus, Mom just got the girls Christmas dresses and new shoes so I know that they will look well groomed (that's a rarity!). I can't decide if we are going to take Jasmine up there with us or not. Probably so...she's doing just about everything else with us!

A friend came over and helped get my sewing machine situated so I could make stockings. We haven't had proper stockings which wasn't a problem until...Christmas is at MY HOUSE this year! I've been a busy little elf. But Beatle's totally freaking out because we have NO presents under the tree and John just preached a sermon asking "Why do we give gifts to each other when it's Jesus' birthday?" I should have given her a paper bag to breathe into. :)

Jelly of the Month Club

For the first time in my life, we have Christmas lights hanging on the outside of our house. We took a stab at it when we lived in Ft. Worth but this is for real. When I was a kid, I remember finding some old Christmas lights and asking my dad to hang them but he never would, always citing, "We live in the country; who would see them?" Good point. But now, oh now, we've got them up! So fun!

I teach the 3-year-old Sunday School class and in our class we have the sweetest, most chipper child. She's tall and slim with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Although her features are delicate, she's more on the tom-boy spectrum. This poor child CANNOT sit still for ANYTHING. Her nature is so sweet though! In her little chipmunk voice, every Sunday, she calls me "Miss Cordy". It is the most precious thing ever and I will never correct her.

All of the girls have junky coughs. Today, Birdie, with all of her delicate features, woke up with sinus breath that could slay a dragon. Yikes! Poor kid!

I picked up a book for my brother-in-law to mail to him while he's deployed but I didn't think it was fair to mail him a book I've never read personally, so I thought I'd read the first chapter at least to get a feel for it. I can't put it down! And, after college, I haven't stuck with many non-fiction books at all. The crazy thing is it's called "Wild at Heart: Discovering the Secret of a Man's Soul". Random! I wonder if when I finish it, I'll look down to find that I've sprouted chest hair of my own. But really, it's given me such perspective!! I grew up with a sister, have girls of my own, girl friends with girls of their own; I don't understand boys and haven't really tried. This book has convicted me of my gender-superior attitude I have toward men and my usual dislike for the majority of boys. How wrong I've been! I would highly recommend this book to just about everyone--wives, mothers, men. It's been very interesting. I thought about highlighting or underlining parts for Zac but Brent said that would be creepy. Probably true! :)

So, I'm feeling a little like Clark Griswold this Christmas...with all of our unexpected expenses this fall, our gift fund has been depleted so if the church opts for a jelly of the month club bonus, we're screwed. Haha! Not worried though; it's just stuff. Beatle would probably disagree. :)