More than Half-Way thru the ABCs....

P is for Painting ornaments, a fun cheap craft we do almost every year that keeps the kids busy enough that I can fit in some of that grading I put off until the break....whoops, maybe P should be for procrastination was a bad idea this year.

Q is for Quandry, as in I'm in one because seriously, nothing Christmasy starts with Q.

R is for Regis, yeah I fit him in to my ABC's twice so far, that's my tribute okay, and so far the wanna be guest co-hosts for Ripa aren't cutting it. They're not grouchy enough, they're too nice and Kelly keeps gushing over all of them. I want to see tension, playful banter, and eye rolling please. If I wanted to tune in to 2 people being polite to each other, I'd watch Good Morning America.

S is for Sunday - the day Christmas falls on this year, and you know what even though in my initial fleshly state, that initially seemed inconvenient, I realized that's the best day for Christmas, since after all it is supposed to be about Christ, and it's going to help me teach the kids that concept I'm still struggling through - delayed gratification. Yep, we're ganna make 'em wait to open gifts AFTER church!

T is for Tim Tebow, as in that's all my sister wants for Christmas this year, and Dan would be fine with having him as a brother in law.

ABC's of Christina's Christmas Continue

K is for Kindergarten performances, as in, I've sat through 3 in the past 7 days. The twins sang with their teacher's singing group in one performance (dressed in their PJs), they had Oscar-worthy performances as "cow" and "lamb" in the annual Kindergarten Nativity chapel, and all 4 girls sang in the school Christmas musical. What can I say, their talents are endless, and my attention span is, well, short..... because at each performance I kept thinking.... another song, oh my, how ambitious, when do we get to eat cookies?

L is for Lights, we drive through Gemini street each year, the local neighborhood that decks out each house with lights and cartoon character themes. Instead of being grateful for the experience, now the girls just complain about the single string of lights Dan hung that go across the trim of our roof. They all say, "Dad, Dad.... our lights are the worst ones on the street, we need a nativity scene on our roof, we need a sled hanging over our driveway, Daddy, please..... build us an ice rink in our front yard....."

M is for Making Cookies for Darla's annual cookie exchange. Every year, I slave over making 72 cookies of some sort, well, not every year, sometimes I get my sister to do it for me! And every year it's worth it because seriously, I LOVE COOKIES, and because I'm so self-sacrificing, I hide all the good ones in the freezer for a rainy day (for myself people, I don't waste the good stuff on the kids).

N is for Neighbors, Christmas is a great chance to spread some Christmas cheer to the neighbors you don't usually see or talk to and bring them some cookies or a card.

O is for Open your gifts with low expectations that way you're not disappointed when you see that your student gave you yet another apple shaped ornament that says #1 teacher on it in shiny letters when all you really wanted was.... well, anything but that.

More later....

More ABC's of Christina's Christmas

F is for fragile.... as in, hey I paid a lot of money for that ornament why did you feel the need to drop it and shatter it into a plethora of dangerous tiny shards of glass that I'll be finding in corners from now until March? What me angry? No of course not honey, I love you more than things, or at least I will in an hour or so when I calm down.

G is for guilt-ridden.... because I'm a mom and it's required that you feel guilty about either spending too much money at Christmas, feeding in to the materialism of our culture, or not baking sugar cookies from scratch (because the store bought pilsbury ones are just as good).

H is for Have you bought your kid's teacher a present yet? Because you really, really should if you haven't already, I hear they make like no money.

I is for I miss Regis, which has absolutely nothing to do with Christmas, but hey I've never been good with change.

J is for Justin Bieber.... his Christmas album plays repeatedly in my van, at my house, in my head..... and yes, I'm starting to like it.

More Later.

Some ABC's of a Christina Christmas

A is for Are you serious, it's December already?

B is for Better not shout.....so much at the kids anymore, the neighbors are going to turn you in, and when I say you, I mean me.

C is for Coffee, Coffee, Cup of Coffee..... caffeine.... it stimulates the dopamine in my brain, it's my own version of an anti-depressant.

D is for Dan, please stop being a scrooge, and complaining about putting up lights, taking decoration boxes down from storage, and griping about buying me something, I'm starting to think you're the grinch!

E is for Explain to your kids that just because we don't believe in Santa doesn't mean everyone else doesn't believe in Santa, and that when they destroy other children's faith in jolly St. Nick, chances are, mom's going to get a phone call from that child's mom, and that phone call will end up with me apologizing awkwardly and sweating a little.....

More Later

Move Over Freud

I realize I haven't posted as religiously as I used to, and I'm also realizing that I'm entering a whole new chapter of this thing they call parenting. For a few years there, I really thought parenting was exhausting, the lifting of chubby babies in and out of car seats, high chairs, and grocery carts, the running across the room to perform the Heimlich maneuver because your toddler just swallowed a nickel, and the never ending cleaning up of diapers, spit up, and spilled everything.

Well, a few years have passed, and I'm now realizing that parenting is still indeed exhausting but now in a different way. Before so much of what I did with my 4 girls was physical, but now we're entering into new territory, and I feel as if I must put on counselor's cap. As the girls grow, I'm starting to really get glimpses of who they are as people, and here are a few things I'm realizing.

1. Though genetically linked, our children are not miniature versions of ourselves or our
husbands. Chances are they have some striking similarities, but sharing in the same gene pool does not make them entirely like you. Example: For me to have a daughter that does not like school is almost unfathomable. I soooo loved school, so much so I became a teacher. One of the things I'm learning is that just because I like something doesn't guarantee my kids will. I know this seems like common sense, but I think if we're honest with ourselves we expect our kids to be just like us in a lot of ways, and then when they aren't we're almost disappointed. We need to accept it, and adapt.

2. Secondly, I am just now truly coming to grips with the fact that my children are flawed. Let's face it when my babies were babies, I was pretty much secretly satisfied with the fact that they were superior to all other babies in every way. Obviously this is ridiculous, and maybe it was the post-pregnancy hormones that were blurring my sense of reality, but I was content in my own children's perfection. However, as they get older, they each are showing that not only do they have amazing individual strengths and unique preferences, but they also each have their own set of struggles (aka sin issues). I think as parents this is really hard for us to truly admit to ourselves. If we see something unbecoming in our children like laziness or a mean streak or a selfishness, we are very reluctant to acknowledge to ourselves, to our spouses, and definitely to other people. However, I think the very best thing we can do is look at it honestly for what it is, so that you can (in love) help your child to deal with that issue early on.

3. Lastly, I'm learning that parenting is still exhausting, but in a different way. It requires a tremendous amount of thought, discipline, grace, love, time, and prayer. Mainly prayer, and if you think I'm preaching to you, I'm not, I'm preaching to myself. I'm admittedly a typical teacher, which means I'm controlling, bossy, and I like things run a certain way. No matter what I say or what I do, ultimately I cannot control the people my children become. Only God can orchestrate the direction of their lives, only God can move their hearts, and convict their souls. I can do everything right or I can do everything wrong (more likely) but my input only takes them so far, which is why we have to continually put them in God's hands.

Shwew.... now that I got that off my chest, I feel better. Oh and my kids haven't turned rotten lately in case you're wondering, they're still nearly perfect in my eyes, it's just every once in a while they remind me of me, and I get a little terrified.

The Eye of the Beholder

It's my favorite time of year - Picture time! Our amazing friends/photographers just did a shoot with our fam. last week so that we could find a pic for the annual Christmas card, and as usual, they were creative and cheerful and immensely patient with a family of 6, a blaring hot sun, multiple pesky flies, and a group of cross country runners that kept running through our shots! Part of their talent is that they like to take pictures of shadows and backs and feet and other fun angles that reveal a certain charm and whimsy that is somehow simultaneously current and vintage at the same time. Kat is in love with all things romantic, like rainy days, old movies, and sentimental mementos, my husband and I are a bit more pragmatic than she is. So it cracked me up that she said that the 2 pics above (the one of the girls' backs, and then the one of their feet) were some of her favorites. Dan just looked at them, and said, "I don't get it, why does she like those?" He super loved the close ups of the girls and the more traditional family shots. It was just another reminder for me that beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder.

But seriously, the pictures are awesome, will reveal more soon, or you'll just have to wait till the Christmas card comes out. If you're a local, be sure to check out herveyphoto.com or her some of their other info. which you should be able to find via her blog at somissurfergirl@blogspot.com.

How Bout them Apples?

In Morgan's class last week, they measured all of the kiddos with apples. Morgan was 9 apples tall. The teacher made a chart and hung it up for everyone to see. It listed each student's name, and how many apples tall they were. I noticed everyone was at least 1 apple taller than my Morgie. I picked her up, and said, "Wow, I heard you're 9 apples tall!" She smiled her gigantic face-breaking, dimple-cheeked smile, and said, "Yep, I'm the smallest one."

I've always loved the runts of the litter.