Saturday, December 24, 2011

So this is Christmas

As a kid growing up, Christmas was absolutely magical. As my kids get older and I watch them wriggle with excitement like puppies, I remember how hard it was to wait until Christmas day Our house was always decorated to the nines, our doorbell would ring nightly with neighbors bringing homemade gifts, and wrapped presents would magically appear under the tree. We spent hours arranging, stacking, rearranging and restacking presents under the tree, comparing, shaking, counting, and in general making my mom crazy. The door to her sewing room was frequently shut, although she would measure us several times during the season, always telling us to "Be quiet and don't ask any questions." With six kids running around, my parents decided to have us draw names among the siblings on or around Thanksgiving. The idea was not only to buy a gift for that person, but to spend the whole season of Christmas doing acts of anonymous service for that person. December was always spent sneaking around making someone's bed, leaving treats on pillows, and trying to figure out who drew your name.

On Christmas Eve, we all loaded into the big red van and made the trip to visit the Grandmas. When we were younger, my Grandma Call hosted a yearly Christmas party on Christmas Eve. While it was incredibly important for my grandma to have all her children and grandchildren together, it was torturous for us to mingle and make conversations with relatives that we only saw once a year. The cheek pinching and the "Now, who do you belong to again?" was inevitable, as was the chili with optional noodles that Grandma cooked. Once the excitement died down, we trekked to see my other grandma, where we badgered her with questions about why she didn't have a real Christmas tree, and wound up her ceramic music boxes so that "Oh Holy Night" and "Silver Bells" were playing simultaneously. Once my grandparents had opened their presents, (usually a Peppridge Farm food basket for Grandpa and a book for Grandma) we bounced off the walls until Mom and Dad loaded us back into the van. It wasn't until we were all quite a bit older that we realized that my mom had been stashing presents at Grandma's, and that they loaded the present in the back of the van on Christmas Eve, covered them with blankets and hoped that we didn't see anything.

Once we got home, we opened the one present from our brother or sister, and got sent to bed for the torturous night long wait. One year, my brothers convinced me to set my alarm for 4 am so we could go see our presents. My brother set my alarm wrong, and it went off at 1 am, 2 am, 3 am, etc all night long. My parents used to yell at us that no one was allowed out of their rooms until 6am. I don't know if that ever happened.Santa presents were left unwrapped, arranged carefully in piles with our stocking on top. Bikes, trikes, stereos, all made frequent appearances. After we tore through, opened and examined all our Santa gifts, we put our loot away, had breakfast and then it was "Christmas torture:" every room in the house had to be clean and vacuumed, and we all had to be dressed with our rooms immaculate before we could open presents under the tree. Now, I like a clean room as much as the next person, but I still think that was a little over the top.

As a teenager, my Christmases were filled with music and performances. As a senior, I was in seven performing groups, and I think I counted 21 performance in 13 days. I carried 3-4 uniforms in my car at all times, and vividly remember changing from my Jordan Youth Symphony Uniform (tuxedo shirt, black skirt, red bow tie and cummerbund, (yes, we were stylin', shut up!)) into my Madrigals uniform (black one piece pantsuit with a black embroidered jacket) while stopped at a stoplight in downtown Salt Lake City. It was a crazy busy time, but I was exhausted and exhilarated by the constant performing.

 Ashylnn decorating the tree, 2008

Tom and I have had twelve Christmases together. Some have been leaner than others, but there's always been love, excitement,  and joy. 
Christmas, 2008

 I smiled today when I realized two out of the last three Christmases we've had a brand new baby to celebrate with us. 
Baby Max in the Christmas stocking

Ian, Christmas 2010, overflowing with excitement

I'm particularly excited about Christmas this year. Not only have I been an online shopping ninja, but I've very excited about the gifts we've secured for everyone. I can't wait to see the kids opening their presents tomorrow, and that anticipation has had me smiling for a month! We've baked cookies, cut out snowflakes, delivered neighbor gifts, and attended several of Abby's Christmas performances. I missed playing Christmas music on my violin so much that I volunteered Abby and me to play a musical number in church last week. We've bought and wrapped presents, and the tree is stocked.
Abby, Abravenel Hall, 2011

My kids today are as excited as I've ever seen them. Abby in particular has so much nervous anticipation flowing through her body that she can't sit still. And here's the funny thing: I remember feeling like that. I remember driving my mom crazy on Christmas Eve asking if we could "Just open one present, please, please, please?" and having her banish me out of the kitchen so she could get things done.

I wonder sometimes if we've done enough. Baked enough, sung enough Christmas songs, read enough scriptures. Have we focused enough on service, love, and what Christmas is really about? Will my kids be able to look back and say their childhood Christmases were magic? I hope so, because I'm fully planning on tomorrow being magical.

Friday, December 16, 2011

The Twelve Days of Christmas- Mom Style

So is everyone else tired of being bombarded with ads advertising everything from plastic surgery to plastic toys as the perfect Christmas gifts for you? The other day, I heard that ridiculous "Twelve Days of Christmas" song and realized that what I want for Christmas has nothing to do with cashmere sweaters, drummers drumming or gold rings. So here, for the benefit of my girls, my husband, and anyone else who is wondering what I want for Christmas, is my Christmas list...

The Twelve Days of Christmas- Mom Style

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
A full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Six vacuumed rooms,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Seven gourmet meals,
Six vacuumed rooms,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Eight girls' nights out,
Seven gourmet meals,
Six vacuumed rooms,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Nine days with no fighting,
Eight girls' nights out,
Seven gourmet meals,
Six vacuumed rooms,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Ten pedicured toes,
Nine days without whining,
Eight girls' nights out,
Seven gourmet meals,
Six vacuumed rooms,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Eleven full body massages,
Ten pedicured toes,
Nine days without bickering,
Eight girls' nights out,
Seven gourmet meals,
Six vacuumed rooms,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,
Twelve months of housecleaning,
Eleven full body massages,
Ten pedicured toes,
Nine days without crying,
Eight girls' nights out,
Seven gourmet meals,
Six vacuumed rooms,
Five vacations planned. (And paid for!)
Four happy children,
Three bars of chocolate,
Two potty trained toddlers,
And a full night of uninterrupted sleep.

So friends, what's on your list? And really, I know it's a big list. I'd settle for the sleep...

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Mush Brain

My brain has turned to mush.

I've been the single parent on call for seven full days. We've done Christmas concerts, violin and piano lessons, school every day.  Yesterday, I took all four kids on multiple errands, including the bank, the outlet malls, and the evil store ending in -Mart. We wrapped presents, and as of yesterday, the blessed Christmas shopping is done.

We even went to the ward Christmas party. Ian was less than enthusiastic about the fat man in the red suit.

Today though, was a mess. We've officially entered the stage with Ian where you get dressed up to walk the halls for 3 hours. Problem was, I had three other kids in the mix. The highlight of sacrament meeting came when Ian slipped off the bench when he was trying to escape and opened up a cut behind his ear. We came home from church, had soup from a can and watched a movie.

I'm done with single mom duty. Done. Don't know how actual single moms do it.

I keep reminding myself that my husband will be home Tuesday. Then I want to be the one to run off to Europe.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Monday mind dump

In the wee, frozen hours of this Monday morning, I took my dear sweet husband to the airport to board the first of several planes bound for Europe. Nope, not kidding. I know he is at least visiting Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Helsinki, Finland, and Rome. Yup. Rome at Christmas. Jealous, me? Of course not.

If you've hung around this blog for any length of time, (and why wouldn't you? The writing has been so incredibly riveting lately, especially the part where I just don't write for weeks on end...) you know that my husband's international travel habits and I don't get along so well. He's been international 3 times, and 2 out of those 3 times, someone has ended up in the ER, or gotten stitches, or a combination of the 2. I'm thinking tomorrow, I'll make a trip to the store for bubble wrap, duct tape, children's ibuprofen, and extra Diet Coke. That should keep us for eight days, right?

But here's some good news: my Christmas shopping for my kids is done. Thank you Amazon and your brilliant 2-day free shipping. A good portion of the non-Santa gifts are wrapped and under the tree as well, which as any 8 year old can tell you, is pure and complete torture! And also on the Christmas front, the tree has only tipped over once so far. I think that's a record.

People keep asking me if we're going to homeschool next year. While I'd be lying if I didn't say that the thought of kicking the girls out the door at 8:35 to go to school sounds like a good idea at least two mornings a week, we're also starting to find our groove. I don't know what will happen next year. I can barely remember what day it is, and that's on a good day. But, I do know that for the first time, my girls are starting to write cohesive, coherent paragraphs and papers. This is new, and I am proud. And, Ashlynn only throws a fit about division once a week now, so we're definitely making progress.

My baby still does not sleep through the night. Not even close. I have attempted night weaning twice, and it has failed miserably both times. Someday, I will sleep again.

Most of the time, I really love my job as a violin teacher, I do. But I'm really ready for Christmas break to roll it's way around here. Is that bad? Mostly, I want to not teach lessons at 6:15 am for at least a week or two. And I wouldn't mind having an afternoon or two to lounge around in my pajamas, read a novel, and eat Nutella out of the jar with a spoon. Perhaps I should inform my children of my plans.

Speaking of, how is it that I have gone my whole life without buying a jar of Nutella until now? I will have to buy extra for the next 30+ years to make up for it.
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