Hold The Whip

So I saw that some of my fellow bloggers listed out meaningful and thoughtful resolutions for the New Year. I don't really like to make resolutions, because I never follow through with them and then I feel like a loser in March when people are asking me so how's that whole exercise thing going? And then I give them the blank stare and wonder if perhaps they're addressing the person behind me.

So I had to think of it this way: Baby steps. One small resolution, that's not ridiculous like hey I'm going to be nicer to my kids, yell less, and start ironing.... I mean really. And we all know I'm not switching over to brown rice and soy milk. I'll die before I buy organic produce (I hate spending money on food when I could be spending it on accessories), and I'm certainly not going to give up caffeine or anything like that.

But I was thinking, I could make a conscious effort to cut out a few calories in my life, now that I'm facing being 35, and I'm no longer the 98 pound 16 year old that had Mountain Dew and old fashioned doughnuts every day on my way to school for breakfast (see I have evolved). Now it seems calories are actually sort of creeping up on me, slowly, bit by bit, year by year, despite my denial and insistence things fit weird because "I just had a baby," wait, how old is Morgan now? Oh never mind. So here's my resolution folks. When I go to Starbucks, and order my most favoritest drink, a grande Carmel Macchiato with whip, well, from now on, I'm going to sacrifice, and ask them to please, hold the whip.

Sigh. I really like whipped cream. It's so good, but apparently it adds a bunch of calories to the already excessive and unnecessary drink.

So there it is, there's my resolution. If you run into me at the coffee shop and I have a whipped cream mustache, please feel free to confront me and make me feel very small.

On Behalf of My Other Daughters

About a year or so ago, I think I mentioned something about a cute little 3 year old boy planting a kiss on my 2nd oldest daughter Noelle. I didn't think much about the fact that he had singled out Noelle, I just thought it was a cute, kind of funny story.

Then this past Sunday at church, a little 5 year old boy (the pastor's grandson actually), approached my husband, and said, "Just so you know, I'm going to marry Noelle someday." Dan took a serious tone, and replied,"Are you asking me if you can marry my daughter?" The little boy said, "yep."

Well, as Maylin recounted the story to someone in the back of the church, yet another little 5 year old boy objected right in front of me, saying, "I was going to marry Noelle...."

Wow, she's popular.

I would just like to say, that Noelle Christina is my namesake, and perhaps with the name, came all of my less favorable qualities. She talks too much (like me), she's overly dramatic (also like me), she has a propensity to stomach aches (me too), and truthfully, she can be quite a handful (possibly this is all my fault).

My other 3 daughters remind me more of my much more agreeable husband. Maylin is diligent and hard working, she can really stick to a task. Lorelei is easy going and likes everyone. Morgan is fun loving, and laughs at life.

The point is fellas, I appreciate your interest in Noelle, but I would like the world to note, I have 3 other perfectly charming daughters, and if you offer me the right amount of cows and goats, I'd be happy to hand them over.

But if you insist on pursuing our little Noelle, it looks like you'll have to take a number, and in the words my father once used when addressing Dan about whether or not he could marry me. Sure... but remember, no refunds!

Christmas Gets A Little Retro This Year

Barbies, a microwave that cooks things with a lightbulb, scooters, and the rip-roarin' headache of a game, Hungry Hippo were some of the fun gifts that the girls scored with this year. As I was flipping through the photos, I realized these were all toys I'd had when I was a kid. Hmm, am I trying to relive my childhood or what? This concept surprises me since mom always said I was an old soul. When the other little kids wanted to play tag type games on the playground, I would always say, "No... let's sit under a tree and talk." But I guess despite, my "old soul" tendencies, I do have a nostalgic hankering for the little things that can bring a kid great joy (for at least 9 to 11 minutes).

Anyway, it was a Merry Christmas this year, and I'd love to tell you all about it, but the truth is, as I type this silly little blog entry, a stack of short stories written by well-meaning 15 year olds awaits me. And instead of putting them off yet one more day, I should probably tackle them NOW. Who knows, maybe the next great author of our future is among them, and if not the next great author, perhaps at least I'll encounter a future housewife that blogs a little on the side.

Snow: It Does Exist

Having been raised in the dry heat of the San Joaquin Valley, my ideal climate is tanning bed warm. I like to be warm, I like to be dry, and I like to be tan. Is that so wrong? The point is I have almost NO experience with snow, because rumor had it, snow is wet and cold, which always made me wonder why people deliberately choose to go to it. Then I had kids and in my imagination, I daydreamed about them frolicking in the pure white snow, laughing, and playing. I asked Dan if on Christmas Eve we could drive to Grant's Grove just 2 short hours from Visalia, and introduce the girls to the snow so that I could make my daydream a reality.

Well, I'll say this, it was indeed very beautiful. We even visited the Big General Sherman tree that I believe is the tallest Redwood in the world (275 ft). It was majestic and an impressive testament of God's creation. The girls were very excited, and that made me happy, but as it turns out.... genetics are a mighty thing. Apparently, that whole liking to be warm & dry thing was passed on from me to them, because as soon as we got there, Morgan got snow in her boots and I have never heard that girl cry and fuss and whine so much in her entire 3 years. The older girls got to do a little sledding, and as they finished up, Lorelei went into hysterics about her freezing cold feet. She thought she had frostbite.

Dan accused us all of being a bunch of babies, and looked at me accusingly as if perhaps I was to blame for all of the crying. Then we left.

Needless to say, it was a little bit of Christmas magic, Leaman girls style.

It Wouldn't Be December Without...

The annual Christmas show at school. Plus side: the girls were

cute & loved singing their songs! Down side: We were there for an

eternity, because we had to sit through the preschool performances

& then the elementary school performance.....I have no patience.


The office party. Dan's office mates and our dear friends all

get together and our kids exchange gifts. Plus side: We get to

hang out and eat a lot. Down side: Our friends gave Noelle a

slide whistle, need I say more?

The annual Christmas parade in Camarillo. Plus side, it was

a beautiful, sunny California day that day. Down side: It was

too long (there goes that impatience of mine again), and a guy

yelled at us for sitting where he had staked out his cones hours

before the parade. There's some Christmas spirit for ya!

Frosting Cookies at my house with a few of the girls

friends from church. Plus side: My sainted sister made the

gigantic batch of sugar cookies for us. Down side: Remember,

in addition to the fact that I have no patience, I also have no

self-control, so I ended the day with a sugar over-dose headache

and a vague conviction that I may be getting too old for eating frosting

till I'm sick.

Merry Christmas to Me

Well, I've got to tell you this morning has provided me with a unique glimpse into what it would be like to be a real housewife of Orange County (or wherever... and no I don't actually watch any of those shows because let's face it, I can't afford to lose any more brain cells into the vortex of mindless television). Anyway, I'm officially off of work until January, but all of the girls had to go to school for one last day before vacation, so I find myself here.... at my house...... ALONE!!!

I thought about buying a box of bon bons and eating them in front of the television for a while, but then I remembered the hundreds of cookies I brought home from the Christmas cookie exchange I went to last night, and I figured.... they'd do. So yep, here I am, a mom alone in her house, drinking coffee, eating Christmas cookies, with no small children to ask me how many more days there are until Christmas, with no one yelling, "I'm telling on you," and there are no cups of sticky milk being spilled on my dining room table right now. Instead, it's just me, relaxing, contemplating painting my nails for the first time since August, and wasting time on my computer.

Insert contented sigh.

I guess Christmas came early for me this year.

A Lesson From Scrooge

I have 4 neighbor girls in my neighborhood that live but a stone's throw away from me. I know, I know I'm very lucky to have friends that live so close by. But here's the deal, they're all younger than me, they all have fewer kids than me, and for whatever reason, they're all much perkier, cheerier, happier, more fun-loving type of folk than I happen to be. They all like to make crafty-craft things, or do other people's hair, or of all things run around the block together. I try to avoid all of these types of activities, because I like sit and sulk in my house about how many kids I have, and make fun of them for being hopelessly optimistic about life and love and cuteness for cuteness-sake.

So it should have come as no surprise to me that they had some type of festive fun for the holidays for me to begrudgingly be a part of. Sure enough, they suggested we do Secret Santas this year. You know, we pick names and anonymously drop off gifts on each others' porches and mailboxes, etc. I attempted to refuse, and complained loudly that I have SOOOOO much going on right now, and this will be just one more thing on my "to-do" list, and they made me do it anyway.

I was determined to be a scrooge about it, until this morning when I opened my front door and saw the coca-cola in a bottle pictured above, and guess what........

It made me SO HAPPY!

One little bottle of soda is really all it takes to thoroughly make my day. So thank you Secret Santa, whoever you are, and thank you to all my perky, happy little neighbor girls that love rain drops and Santa Clause and twinkle lights..... thank goodness there are freaks like you guys in the world, because if everyone was a Scrooge like me, there'd be no Disneyland, no ridiculous movies starring Reese Witherspoon, and there'd certainly be no such thing as Secret Santas.