The Christmas Report

Though our house is even more of a disaster than usual, we're still totally in the Christmas spirit around here. Well at least the girls and I are. Can't speak for Scott who has sometimes been confused with the Grinch in years past. He's at least going along with it as much as he can stand. A couple of nights ago, after the girls had their baths and were in their jammies, I filled their sippy cups with hot chocolate, dragged out the Nat King Cole Christmas CD and we were going to drive around to look at the lights. Scott decided to go with us! I was thrilled but said, "You're not going to rush us are you?" and he said "No! How 'bout we go out for 15 minutes and then come back?" Ummm... are you kidding? He wasn't. He was a great sport and lasted quite a while. Just as he was about to overdose we dropped him off back at the house and drove around a bit longer.

Some of you know that last year I was all excited about starting a new Gingerbread House tradition. That was before I'd actually made a Gingerbread House. It seemed like the kind of thing I would like until I actually tried it with two small children as helpers. It was one of those kits too, so it should have been easy but it wasn't. I've blocked out most of the ugly details but I do remember mumbling, NEVER AGAIN to myself pretty much the whole time.

Last weekend Scott and Alyssa went to a party while Amanda and I stayed home (Amanda had been sick and we didn't want to expose the whole party to cooties). Amanda was horribly disappointed about missing the party so when I spotted the gingerbread house kit at the grocery store I grabbed it and we had our own little party which included making a gingerbread house. In the spirit of embracing imperfection I told her she was in charge and could do absolutely anything she wanted. At the grocery store this sweet old lady saw the kit in my cart and started talking about how neat it was. She said a relative had made several of them as gifts and that most of them have lasted five years. She said the secret was keeping them in a cool dry place. I told her I have two small children and I’d be happy if ours lasted five minutes.

So Amanda and I actually had fun making our house. I let her do her own thing. Didn't say a word when she decided to use every single piece of yellow candy all in one spot. Right now I'm still feeling really positive about the whole Gingerbread House thing, but Monday I'm going to school and helping Amanda's class bake gingerbread and Tuesday they're building houses. So we'll see if I return to my NEVER AGAIN thinking after that.

We went to visit Santa last week too. Some of you may know that I have a weird fear of the whole "Mall Santa experience" but last week we braved it...and in the short version, let's just say that Santa obviously got the job because of his realistic white hair and beard and not for his charming personality. He called Alyssa "Booger Baby" after she put her finger in her nose. Alyssa then refused to sit on his lap to which Santa said, "What? Are you mad at me ‘cause I called you "Booger Baby?" That's when Alyssa scowled at him and said, "I HATE Santa," and there was no way she was going to sit on his lap. So now we've done it. We’ve pissed off Santa and I have no idea if Amanda will be getting her guitar (the only thing she asked for) or if Alyssa will be getting her baby doll. If it's up to me Santa's not getting any cookies and milk at our house and I may write an angry letter to Mrs. Claus. Call my kid, "Booger Baby"... Bah Humbug...

The Chaos Report

Things have been even more chaotic than usual around here. First of all we've got major plumbing problems. A lot of the houses around here have plumbing issues so this is nothing new to us but it's worse than ever right now. And my adorable perfectionist husband doesn't trust a plumber to fix things, so for as long as we've lived here, he's been handling the problems himself. The one and only time we did have a plumber here, shortly after we moved in, they sent out a female plumber, which I thought was cool, but it freaked Scott out a bit and he became more determined than ever to handle this stuff himself.

For some reason our washing machine drains into the sink in our garage and when the drain starts to get clogged, I can't get through a complete load of wash without turning the machine off to let the sink drain. I'm admittedly scatterbrained which leads to much excitement around here and we have floods on occasion. I also can't do dishes at the same time I do laundry since the kitchen sink and dishwasher also drain into the garage sink, causing the same flood issues. Did I mention that I’m scatterbrained in addition to having a couple little distractions running around here?

The last time Scott tried to fix the clogged drain, he broke a pipe. Currently the garage sink drains directly under the house, which is not a good thing. Right now, I'm not allowed to use the kitchen sink and I've been instructed to use the dishwasher and washing machine as sparingly as possible. So the laundry and dishes are piling up. But the good news that Scott is actually considering hiring a real live plumber!!! Does anybody know a good plumber? He won't trust just anybody and I'm not sure how much longer I can take this.

In addition to the plumbing problems, we also have ANTS. I hate ants! They're driving me crazy!!! I swear they’re like really bad houseguests. We finally get rid of them and breathe a huge sigh of relief. Then just when things are getting back to normal we wake up and they’re back again and they’ve brought friends. HUNDREDS of friends.

I've tried a few child-safe options in an effort to get rid of them... bowls of vinegar... ha...chalk and baby powder... supposedly hey won't walk through it. This actually seems to work but only until they find a new entry point. I can only imagine that they're laughing at me back at the colony. Baby powder??? You've got to be kidding! Yes they’ve been here for so long that I’ve begun talking to them and trying to figure out what they’re thinking.

Oh and they're coming in from UNDER OUR HOUSE... so it's not like we can just spray them with Raid or something... I asked Scott if we could get Stan-the-Termite-Man to spray for them and he said, “No! Ants are good. They kill termites.” Yes, but isn’t that why we’re paying Stan-the-Termite-Man? There’s no doubt in my mind that my darling frugal husband just doesn’t want to pay Stan to spray for the ants.

I finally gave up on the child-friendly stuff and and bought some ant-bait. They’re supposed to come in to get it and then carry it back to their colony and it’s supposed to kill them all. Supposed to. Sigh… The first kind of bait failed miserably. I moved on to a different brand and so far so good. They've been gone for a couple of days and every morning I wake up just hoping not to find them all over my kitchen or anywhere else in the house.

By the way, should you ever reach the level of insanity that I have, where you become fascinated with your nasty little ant-houseguests and start watching them like they’re the ant farm you never had or wanted, I highly recommend the type of bait that has a see- through lid. The first kind of bait was just frustrating. I had no clue if they were taking it or not. The see-through lid is far more satisfying because you can see them all in there dancing around… Ant party in the ant poison! Woo hoo! Eat up, guys… you’re all gonna die… But the next time I looked, the bait was empty save for two dead ants. That just ticked me off. Couldn’t they have gone somewhere else to die? I mean seriously, if you heard about a great party with great food but you showed up and there were a couple of dead guys laying there, would you stick around? Probably not.

The good thing is that so far the ants have only been in the bathrooms. I can’t figure that out. I swear that my children sprinkle crumbs throughout the house like fairies sprinkle fairy dust and have I mentioned yet that I broke the vacuum cleaner while I was sucking up ants? And don’t forget about the pile of dishes because I can’t use my kitchen sink or dishwasher. So it's bizarre to me that the ants haven’t left the bathrooms. It’s like they’ve landed right next to a fabulous vacation resort with all you can eat buffets as far as the eye can see but for some reason they’ve never left the airport.

The Amanda Report

Amanda is five and is enjoying Kindergarten but frequently complains that she’s not learning anything because she’s having way too much fun. Guess she must have picked up the reading and writing stuff from all that educational TV she watches. (Some of it is educational, I swear!)

She has not one, but TWO, boyfriends. I had one of those scary parental moments when I was taking these pictures of her and trying to get a real smile instead of the fake one kids her age are famous for. I was talking to her about all kinds of stuff and she mentioned her boyfriends and I asked her which one of them she wanted to kiss, fully expecting her to say, "EWWWWW! Gross!!!" or start giggling but instead she got this dreamy expression on her face and said, "Dante... no Anthony... no Dante... no both... can I kiss both?" Good thing I didn't drop my camera!

She's doing really well in school, in fact she just told me that she and one other girl are the only two in the class who have made it through all of the blue books, which is apparently a Big Deal. That means she's doing great at reading. That's my girl! But I've realized in the last few months that she's a total perfectionist in many ways. Homework can be incredibly frustrating because she completely falls apart if she makes a mistake. I still remember asking my mom what "perfectionist" meant after my own Kindergarten teacher called me one, so I know Amanda has it in her DNA... I'm sure she got some of it from her dad too.

I've been trying to emphasize that making mistakes is OKAY and part of the learning process. I'm always reminding her that everybody makes mistakes and it's no big deal. It took me a long time to figure out that mistakes can actually be a really good thing. Creatively, they can take you in a direction you had no idea you wanted to go. So my current motto is "Embrace Imperfection" and when I'm working on various projects I tell myself that mistakes are charming, kind of like a homemade quilt. I've come a long way... But I've also realized, in my effort to be a good example to Amanda, that sometimes I totally relax and don't worry about mistakes and other times I'm... well I'm a totally anal-retentive control freak. So I'm not quite THERE yet, but I'm still working on it. Nobody's perfect, right?

I've been volunteering in Amanda's class on occasion, which is a lot of fun. I don’t go as often as I would like because it can be tough to get a sitter for Alyssa but the teacher is so happy to have help that she really doesn’t mind having younger siblings along, so occasionally Alyssa comes with me which is always exciting.

Last week after a particularly long day of crafting with 5-year-olds, Alyssa was standing right next to me when the teacher said, “Let’s all thank Amanda’s mommy for coming to help us with our project.” So the eyes of 18 Kindergarteners and two other moms were all on me at the exact moment Alyssa somehow managed to tip over a shelf sending a flood of approximately 5 million crayons, 2 million colored pencils, 50,000 markers, buckets full of scissors, glue sticks, erasers, and every other school supply known to man into a huge mess at our feet. And all I could do was stand there and sigh. “Sure! Anything I can do to help! Same time tomorrow?”

The following conversation took place on the way home from home school today:

Me: So did you have a good day at school?
Amanda: Yep. Something really big happened today.
Me: Really? What?!?
Amanda: Dante kissed me today!
Me: (trying to remain calm and not crash the car) REALLY! Wow! How did that happen?
Amanda: I don't know. I was just sitting in the computer lab and Dante came over to help me with something and then all of a sudden he kissed my cheek!
Me: Wow! So what did you do?
Amanda: Nothin' I was just telling him not to do that and trying to get him off my cheek.
Me: Yeah? And then what happened?
Amanda: Well now he's my boyfriend for real. I mean since he kissed me. It's serious!
Me: It sounds like it. So are you two gonna get married?
Amanda: Yes, we are.
Me: You are?!? When?
Amanda: When we're all growed up. You know, when we're 16.

(Oh and just for the record, Dante is the blonde haired, blue-eyed boy that Amanda thought was so cute on her first day of kindergarten.)

Finally an update - The Alyssa Report

I know, I disappeared again. But since I've got a TON of stuff to do to get ready for Christmas, what better way to procrastinate than by blogging? I started writing yesterday and didn't stop 'til I reached about 6 pages. Either I don't talk at all or I can't shut up. So anyway, in order not to overwhelm anyone who may actually ever bother to still check in on the-blog-that-never-gets-updated, I thought I'd break it down into smaller pieces so I don't completely overwhelm you. It's feast or famine here. Sorry! So first the update on Alyssa...

She turned two in October. Really, extremely two. She has a mind of her own, knows what she wants (I believe she makes her choices based on finding out what I'm trying to give her and then immediately deciding she wants something else entirely) and will go to any extremes to get it. She’s completely fearless and despite my constant attempts to stop her, she has developed an extreme fondness for heights and once she climbs up she doesn’t want to climb down, she wants to JUMP down. It’s also getting nearly impossible to get her to keep her clothes on. If early childhood behavior is any indicator of future career paths I’m terrified she’s either going to be a stuntwoman or a stripper.

Getting dressed can be a huge battle too. I'm a pick-your-battles kind of girl and "Get dressed NOW and wear exactly what I want" is not a battle I choose to fight unless we're going somewhere important anytime soon. But at those times we often go through the "I hate this shirt, I hate those shoes, I hate clean di-pah... Want udder (other) shirt (preferably dirty), udder shoes (preferably Amanda's), want udder di-pah (I just got this one the way I like it, why are you taking it off???)" And then five minutes after going through the trauma that is Getting Alyssa Dressed, she will run through the living room singing happily, "I nakey, I nakey!!!" Yes I see that.

I swear to you that as I was typing this she started stripping right in front of me... I said, "Alyssa DO NOT take your clothes off. Do not take your clothes off. If you take your clothes off, you can't go with me to pick up Amanda." She disappeared for a second, returned completely naked and I said sadly, "Oh no! Now you can't go with me to pick up Amanda because you're naked!" So she went to put on a pair of shoes and returned to proudly announce, "Okay! I ready to pick up Uh-Nanda!" I said, "But you don't have any clothes on. You can't go pick up Amanda without clothes on. You'll be too cold!" So she ran off and brought me her jacket and said "Okay, now I ready to pick up Uh-Nanda!"

Her language is just taking off, which is so cool, but it also means a whole new bunch of headaches. If she's trying to tell you something and you can't figure out what she's talking about, it can get ugly. And the HATE word. I've been monitoring all of our speech patterns to see who is responsible for that little gem that is her all purpose tool to express her unhappiness with any given situation. (So far we're all guilty, Amanda hates almost every kind of food on the planet, Scott hates his job and I hate ants. By the way, know of any surefire kid-safe ways to get rid of ants? I HATE THEM! But back to Alyssa...) I imagine if she had the words she would say, "Why are you so stupid? Why don't you know what I want?"

Instead if I say, "It's time to eat lunch," she says, "NO, I hate lunch." If it's time to go to bed, it's "NO, I hate bed." And it can be something that she loved only a second before. Doesn't matter. The other day I was in a time crunch. Can't remember now what the heck I had to do but I had a limited amount of time to do it and I needed some quiet so I was happily going to let PBS entertain her while I did it.

I turned on Sesame Street. "No I hate Ehmo Wuh! (Elmo's World), wan Bonny (Barney), so I turned on Barney. "NOOOOOOOO!!! I hate Bonny! Wan Ehmo Wuh!" I went back and forth between the two with the same response and then she said, "No, I wan Cheh-wy!" Sherry? "No, Hate Sherry." Cherry? "NO!" Jerry? "YESSSS! Wan Cheh-wy!!!" Oh thank goodness!

You may wonder why I even bother trying to figure out what she wants at times like these. It's because if and when I get it right, I am met with all the overwhelming gratitude and pure delight a 2-year-old can muster. It's as if I have just performed some kind of breath-taking miracle and I don't know about you but I don't get that kind of appreciation elsewhere in my everyday life.

So Alyssa and I had a happy bonding moment over "Jerry" and over this major breakthrough in our mother-daughter communication and then, sadly, I had to ask, "Who is Jerry? Jerry Seinfeld? Jerry Lewis? Tom and Jerry? Jerry Springer? You wanna watch Jerry Springer???" The trauma started again and I finally turned Barney back on and fought the urge to say, "Look kid, Barney ATE JERRY. Jerry's not around anymore. Barney is it for you. I'm going to curl up into a ball and cry now. You watch Barney!" but instead I just said, "You can either watch Barney or I'm turning the TV off, to which she sweetly replied, "Okay Mommy, I love Bonny."