The Lumberjack's Wife

Little Dude is very interested in all letters and numbers as of late.  Recently, he has noticed the digital clock on the oven.

He stares at this clock and shouts:  Mom!  Mom!  MOM!  MOOOMMMMM!  What time it is?

And I look at the clock and reply: 4:17.

Little Dude continues to stare at the clock for, oh, I would guess about one minute.

Little Dude:  Mom!  Mom!  MOM!  MOOOMMM!!!  Now what time it is?

Me, with an-ever-so slight smile upon my face, for I find my boy cute:  4:18.

Little Dude:  Oh.

And I go back to doing the dishes, sweeping the floor, and other such exciting tasks that encompass my life, thinking my boy must be the smartest boy in the whole wide world.

Little Dude:  Mom!  Mom!  MOM!  MOOOMMM!!!!  Now what time it is?

Me:  Ok, buddy.  I am not doing this all day.

Little Dude:  What time it is?

Me:  Time to play.

Little Dude:  NO.  What time it is?

Me:  4:19

And yes.  This continues on and on and on . . .

You would not believe the wrath I must endure when the oven timer is counting down by the second.

Rocks his world.

Handsome Dude has been discussing his birthday often as of late.  I have not come to terms with the fact that my baby will be turning five, so I like to pretend like his birthday doesn’t exist.

Handsome Dude:  Mom, when it’s my birthday, I want all my friends to come, ok?

Me:  Ok.

Handsome Dude:  But I don’t want you to come.

Me:  What?

Handsome Dude:  My friends don’t want to see you.

?

Me:  But who will make your cake?

Handsome Dude:  You will.  You just can’t come.

What a punk.

***

Today was going to town day, an exciting day if there ever was one.  You will be happy to know that I wore my magic boots.  I actually wore a skirt with leggings and my magic boots.  This is very un-Taylor-like, and most assuredly, very un-Ruralville-like.

My girls about died when they saw me.  I think they thought I was Barbie.  The Home-School-Mom version.  If that is possible.  And it’s not.  But I am 30 now, and apparently more willing to take such fashion risks.  Everytime I wear an outfit that Daisy Mae likes, she pleads with me:

“Mom!  Can I have that when you are tired of it?”

I try to assure her that when she is big enough to wear such things, she will have no desire to wear my clothes.  This thought is unfathomable to her.  Bless her heart.

You will also be happy to know that on this day, this going-to-town day,  I went to the optical center.

Shocking, I know.

And you will be ecstatic to discover that Handsome Dude has a new set of frames.  Of which they gave me for free.

I owe these people my life.  Perhaps I should make them cookies?  Send a thoughtful card?

What, pray tell, do you give people of whom you owe your life?

Your first born son?

He’s ashamed of me anyways.

***

In other news, we might get chickens.  Because that’s just what we need in our lives.

Chickens!

Oh, but wouldn’t it be cute to send the dudes outside with little baskets to gather the eggs?

Presh.

And “presh” is what cool people, such as myself, say to abbreviate “precious.”  FYI.

I am sure no trouble with befall us with the chickens.  I am hoping for an uber (or ueber if you are know-it-all like Sister Meagan) cute chicken house.

Knowing my luck, my husband will make it all hillbilly-ish.  He always does that to me.  This is my lot in life, my burden to bear.

Anyways.  Chickens?  What could go wrong?

Please Advise.

Today was our first day back to our home school co-op since the holiday break.  Despite massive preparations the night before to make the morning flow smoothly, I was still a disorganized, chaotic mess.

Are we surprised?  No.  No, we are not.

Working against me was my lack of:

a)  plastic sandwich bags

b) unused plastic food storage containers

c) plastic wrap

d) foil

Just try to pack lunches for 5 people without the above items.  Go ahead.  I dare you.

I remembered that once upon a time, I purchased sandwich bags to keep in the car, so I could easily bag up snacks if ever the need arose.

It appears that at one point in my life, I had a brain.

I sent Daisy Mae out to the car to get said bags.  She came in screaming her head off.

Yes.  She found two bags, but fell on the concrete patio, dropped one bag, and would, apparently, not be able to move or stop crying for the rest of her life.

So.  I had one, plastic sandwich baggie.  Go ahead.  Try to pack lunches for 5 people with one sandwich sized plastic baggie.  I dare you.

Then I remembered the camp trailer!  Yes!  The camp trailer!  So, I sent Sweet Pea out to the trailer and told her to find and bring back anything that could hold food.  She found the mother lode and brought back a plethora of sandwich bags.

Redemption!

After much running around, I finally had everyone dressed and fed, except for Handsome Dude.  Handsome Dude has a fear of everything, ever since his little accident.  One of those fears is now washing his hair.

The shower is out of the question.  Because the shower is the devil.  Clearly.

Putting a plastic trash bag (yes, I had those!) over his leg was out of the question so he could try a bath.

I resorted to sticking his head over the tub and washed his hair, forsaking the rest of his body.

Everything hurts his leg now.

Putting his underwear on.

Putting his pants on.

Brushing his hair.

Brushing his teeth.

Picking up his toys.

Eating his dinner.

Going to bed.

Not hitting his brother.

These are all the things that just cause his leg great agony.  Poor thing.

We were to leave no later than 9am.  At 9:15, I was half-dressed, running around, shouting for people to get GOING.  Then I had to load that darn fire.

Oh, how I loathe it.  It’s just so tedious, you know?  And I always pick logs the wrong size and I have to go tromping back out to the wood pile.  And then I get a splinter and soot on my face and sap in my hair.  Super convenient.

But, alas.  If I do not feed the fire, our house will be a frigid tundra upon our arrival.

And that would hurt Handsome Dude’s leg.

I run up the stairs and finish getting dressed.

I look at my girls and say:

“When you grow up, promise you will be more organized than me.”

Daisy Mae:  What does that mean?

Sweet Pea:  She’s talking about her clothes.  They don’t match.  She wants us to match when we are older.

?

I totes matched.  For the record.

We get in the car and drive about a mile away when I started to do a run down on what we needed to bring.  Sweet Pea was supposed to pack a change of clothes for basketball practice.

Me:  Did you pack basketball clothes?

SP:  Yup!

Me:  You remembered basketball shoes, right?

SP:  Um . . .

Me:  Quick!  What shoes are you wearing?

SP:  My dressy boots.  Will those work?

*sigh*

So.  We had to turn around.  And, yes.  We were late.  Because we like to impress people like that.

Handsome Dude didn’t want to go to his class.  Because it hurt his leg.

He didn’t want to eat his bagel.  It hurt his leg.

The brownie was fine.

He didn’t want to ever go back to co op again.  Because, “Mom.  You know my leg?  The one the log hurt?  It not feel good.  I can’t go to school.”

He could not be quiet at the library.  It hurt his leg.

Running around the library in complete book-ecstasy was completely fine, however.

He could not join us for dinner.  His leg would rather play puzzles.  Plus the soup was “lucky.”

Lucky means “yucky.”

But his leg would be able to join us when it was time for dessert.

That boy.

And I love him.

***

This post is really, really, pointless.  I am wondering what I even planned on blogging about?  I cannot be certain.  But I have made it this far.  There is no turning back.

***

You may recall that back in the day, Sweet Pea had planned a library birthday day with my dad.

My dad was aghast that I did not include this in the blog.

So, let the records show:

Sweet Pea and Dad went to two different libraries and stopped for a corn dog and ice cream sundae.

I have no pictures or humorous stories to share in regards to this information.  But it happened, nonetheless.

Consider yourselves informed.

Later, dudes.

You may recall that the girls and I went to Tennessee to visit Bimlissa and company last fall.

During said trip, we took the girls to the American Girl store in Atlanta.  We had a tea party there and life, for my girls, would never be the same again.

So, for Sweet Pea’s birthday, she wanted to have an “American Girl Tea Party.”

Now.  I am not “creative.”  Nor am I “girly.”  And I’m definitely not “lovely” or “graceful.”  So throwing such a party was a bit of a challenge for me.  But I prevailed!

Prepared to be wowed by my awesomeness.

First, I coerced my mother into hosting.  This was brilliant on my part for a few reasons.

1)  Her house is nicer.

2)  She is nicer.

3)  She lives closer to, oh, you know, PEOPLE.  Therefore we might actually get some humans to come.

My mom and dad had the table all set up for us before we got there.

Mother used Sister Meagan’s American girl dolls from her childhood as centerpieces.  I would like the people to know that I, their eldest daughter, received zero American girl dolls during my childhood, while Meagan, their youngest daughter received TWO.

Not that I am bitter.

(But I would have picked Samantha.  She was the bomb.  There’s no denying it.)

My dad made a huge pot of hot cocoa and talked to himself.  He talks to himself often, he cannot help it.  Apparently, he was trying to figure out what was going to take place in his home today, seeing as how his granddaughters were about to burst from excitement.

What is a tea party?

What are they going to do?

I don’t understand how this works?

Well, Dad.  I fear you don’t understand how many things work.

Mother sent father out to do some errands.  It was for the best.

The girls and I had prepared a menu beforehand with many delicious treats.

What was on the menu, you ask?

Felicity’s Hot Cocoa with Marshmallow Dippers

(Marshmallow Dippers recipe and image source)

Samantha’s Pink Lemonade

Kaya’s Fruit Kabobs with yogurt dip and mini poppyseed muffins

Kit’s Turkey and Cheese Sandwiches (cut out into a bunny shape)

Rebecca’s Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches (cut out into a star shape)

Julie’s Mini Bagels with Cream Cheese

Josefina’s Candy Brownies (brownies with M and M’s on top)

Molly’s Tea Party Cupcakes

I am sure you are all amazed . . . and rightfully so.  But allow me to let you in on a little secret:

All you do is pick a finger food and stick one of the American Girl character’s names in front of it.

I’ll do it right now.

Veggies and Dip . . .

Kirsten’s Veggies with Dip.

BAM!

And that’s how it’s done, folks.

The girls all arrived with a doll and felt they were all that and a bag of chips.  During the tea party, I suggested the dolls get acquainted on the couch and not risk getting some of FELICITY’s hot cocoa on them.

The girls.

After they ate, we played American Girl Bingo.  It was all free and gameboards could be printed from this site.

I printed them out on cardstock, so we can use them over and over again.

I KNOW! Can you believe I am this “with it”?

The birthday girl, enjoying a rousing game of Bingo.

Happy Birthday to Sweet Pea!  I hope she enjoyed her MOLLY TeaParty cupcake.

We purchased all the tea cups for 25 cents and saucers for 10 cents at a thrift store and sent them home as party favors for the girls.

I told you I would wow you, the Susie Fantastic that I clearly am.

Nailed it.

***

We opened our Christmas presents from Jason and Amy today.  It is a long story, and mostly our fault, but there is no time to explain as to why we are opening Christmas presents on January the 8th.

Just go with it.

Look at what Amy made me!

A collage frame with the photos already in it!  Score!

Now if I could only get her to create all my photo albums from the years 2007-2012 . . .

Perhaps if I told her she was more precious than fine rubies?  Thoughts?

They also gave the kids Legos.  Little Dude has been “cleaning up” his mess for about 90 minutes now.

*Gasp*

I used the flash.  Isn’t that a mortal sin in photography nowadays?

I care not.

Obviously.

Later dudes.

We went to town today to get Handsome Dude’s leg looked at.  Since it was going to town day and all, I donned my new, albeit late (fashionably speaking) Christmas boots, so I was feeling quite city-like and all.

And, yes.  This is exactly how I choose to believe I looked.

(source)

Except, I could never fix my hair like that nor look that carefree with a sweater.  And I weigh a teensy-bit more.  But just a hair.

Oh!  And I was carrying Handsome Dude all around with him having one leg sticking straight out because, did you hear . . .

The boy had a bit of an accident.

So, I probably didn’t look quite that glamorous.  Before the appointment we had to make a quick little stop.  You better sit down for this, folks.

We went to get some glasses fixed.

Yes.  I know.  Gasp if you must.  And I have said it before, and I shall say it forevermore:  I love MY Glasses Repair People.  I do.  I truly do.  For they worked for FORTY minutes on getting Handsome Dude’s glasses in working condition and then ordered some new frames and don’t plan on charging me.

?!

It’s probably because of my new boots.

They are magic.

While we were there getting Handsome Dude’s glasses super glued/welded/taped/what-have-ya back together, Sweet Pea got her new glasses, because we like to frivolously throw all of our money towards medical professionals, didn’t you know?

I am lazy and shall not take a picture for you at this moment.  It’s the kind of good, quality blogging you have come to expect from me.  But I can offer you this picture of both of my girls showing off their new mini American girl dolls they got for a late Christmas present today from Brother Danny and company

Will that suffice?

They are blue.  And they cost a pretty penny, yes they do.

The astute reader might notice that Daisy Mae looks like she just licked the spoon of the brownie batter David was preparing.  And that reader would be correct.

Anyways, after the glasses ordeal, we went to the orthopedic surgeon for a follow-up on Handsome Dude’s little surgery.  Because we like to frivolously throw all of our money towards medical professionals, didn’t you know?

The ER doctor referred us to an orthopedic surgeon because of all the trauma that was around Handsome Dude’s knee.  In case you were wondering why on earth we were going to see an orthopedic surgeon.  And I know you were.

When we first got there, he was doted on by all female staff and given several pieces of candy.  The nurse came and called us back and I remembered that before the candy, HD had gum.  And I, being the responsible parent that I am, thought it might be wise to confirm with the boy on the whereabouts of the gum.

Me:  Hey, where did you put your gum?

HD (mumbling, because he is mad at the world for noticing his leg):  In the trash.

Nurse:  Oh!  Did he throw his gun in the trash?

Me (Laughing):  Oh, no, I said gum.

*awkward silence*

Me:  You must think we are pretty responsible parents . . . getting our kid’s leg trapped under a log . . . letting him pack around a gun . . .

Nurse:  Oh, no!  I was thinking of a toy, of course!

Ah!  She didn’t think of us as that redneck at all, even though it clearly states on our information sheet that we live in Ruralville.  And nothing normal comes out of Ruralville.

Trust me.

It must have been my boots.  Yes.  She must have known I wasn’t a full Ruralville-ite on account of the boots.

I am a vixen in these boots, yes I am.

His leg is getting better, but the wound is still pretty gnarly and will need some care.  I would show you a picture, but it might make you toss your cookies, and who needs vomit in their computer keyboards anyways?  He is now out of the immobilizer, which is good, because I am pretty tired of the boy yelling at me because he can’t ride his bike.  But, I think he will be needing to take it easy for awhile longer.

After the appointment, I planned to run a few errands.  This was “going to town” day and all.  Before we left home, I had asked Sweet Pea to grab Handsome Dude his other sock and shoe, since he wasn’t wearing one with the immobilizer, but would need one after the appointment.

Did I lose you?  Are you with me?

Anyways, Sweet Pea, the good helper that she is, did get Handsome Dude the necessary items, but she left them by the front door.  Which isn’t as helpful as it would seem when we are many miles away.

Luckily, David, my dashing and dapper Electrician/Lumberjack was in the vicinity and met me and the grocery store to take HD home.

And would you like to know what he said when he saw me?

“Nice boots, Teller.”

You see!  These boots!  They are life-changing!

True.  He was most likely making fun of me.  But I care not.  I will take the compliment.

And, yes.  My husband calls me “Teller” instead of “Taylor.”  He thinks he is hilarious like that.  This is because his father and brother, Jason, call me “Teller.”

And I have no idea why.

Alright.  I’m out of here.

PS-Someone asked if Sweet Pea was still going to get her birthday party.  Yes, it has been rescheduled to this weekend.

Happy Thursday!

Saturday was Sweet Pea’s ninth birthday.  This was really strange, seeing as how it seems she was just born last week.

?

Sweet Pea sleeps in later than everyone nowadays.  I would have never believed you if you told me this when she was a newborn.  The child did not sleep at night for the first few weeks.  It was against her rules.

When Sweet Pea woke up, the other children bombarded her and she opened her presents before she could even fully comprehend it was morning.

Here she is with her new mini Kaya doll from her friend, Jordyn.

As usual,  I am sure you are praising my photography skills.  And I thank you for that.

After all the present excitement, David took the kids outside to get ready for the Winter Olympics birthday party we would be hosting later on that day.  I stayed inside to cook, clean, and do laundry, for it seems that is my lot in life, my burden to bear.

A bit later, I heard frantic screaming coming from the girls.  It was terrifying, and I was sure somebody was dead, I kid you not.  I was running all around trying to determine where the source of the noise was coming from.  I looked off of our deck and I saw Handsome Dude, lying on the ground, with a large log on his leg.  David had been pulling a tree that he had cut down with his bull dozer, the log twisted, and somehow trapped Handsome Dude underneath.  The girls were standing near him, screaming.  David had run off to get a tool to help get the log off.  And Little Dude seemed oblivious to any sort of trauma and was singing to himself.

I ran downstairs and outside, screaming all the way, hoping the chicken frying on the stove would not burn us all to the ground.

Because I am safe like that.

I pushed the log with all my might and nothing happened, which was discouraging.  David came running back with some large tool.  Please do not ask me what the tool was, for I have not one clue.  David got the log rolled off, picked Handsome Dude, up and ran him into the house.

Chicken was burning.  The girls were screaming.  Daisy Mae kept asking if HD was dead.  Little Dude was mad that he had to come inside.

David and I stripped Handsome Dude’s pants off.  His leg was terribly scratched and bruised and there was an open wound in the back of his knee.  We knew we had to take him to the doctor immediately.

It takes us about 40 minutes to get to the doctor. Daisy Mae could not be consoled the entire time, poor thing.  We got to our doctor’s office and the doctor took one look at the open wound and told us to go straight to the Emergency Room.  Thankfully, my dad met us at the doctor’s office and took the other three home.

David felt terrible, since the accident was his fault and would not let go of Handsome Dude.  At this point, I have barely seen his leg, nor have I gotten to hold him.  While David was holding HD, the doctor flipped HD over and stretched out his leg to look at the cut.  The cut was much worse than David and I knew it to be and I almost fainted when I saw it.  It was about 4 to 5 inches across the back of his knee and (sorry for the gross detail) his flesh was hanging out.

Handsome Dude was obviously in a lot of pain and kept yelling at everyone who came near him.  It was so horrible when they had to give him X-Rays, the poor guy.  The doctors thought his femur might be broken at first, but thankfully he had no broken bones.

But, since the cut was so bad, it was decided that he needed to be taken to the OR and be put under general anesthesia so the doctor could check for tendon damage, clean out the wound, and stitch him up.

So, he had to get an IV, which he was not appreciative of.  The anesthesiologist came in to ask when the last time he had eaten was.  David had fed him breakfast and neither of us had fed him anything since.

But, my son is known to go into the pantry and sneak himself a marshmallow from time to time, so . . . .

Dr:  Buddy, can you tell me if you ate anything after breakfast.

HD:  I DON’T WANT TO TELL THE TRUTH!!!!  NO!!

Lovely.

Dr:  We are just going to assume he has eaten.

He is a brilliant man, that doctor.

Finally, about 3 1/2 hours after the incident, the poor boy was finally given something for the pain and drifted off to sleep while they prepped the OR.

Poor boy.

The nurses felt bad for him, too.  Each one that came in brought him a new toy.  And he would furiously tell us to remove it from his presence.  That cranky boy acquired a new teddy bear, stuffed elephant, and a Hot Wheels set.

The procedure took about an hour.  While we were waiting, my mom sent me a picture of Sweet Pea, who had opened her birthday present from them.

It was sad to miss out, but I was glad she was having a bit of birthday fun, in spite of the terrible day.

Handsome Dude came out of surgery fine, but he has to wear a full leg immobilizer for one week.

Poor boy.

We got him home, and I got him all set up with a snack and some soda pop.

Yes.  I gave the boy soda.  Don’t judge me.

He took about one bite of his bread and fell back asleep.

Poor boy.

He decided he would like to watch a little TV with us.  He will not allow me to carry him anywhere, just David.  Apparently, I am not to be trusted.

He looks pretty lively for the TV show.

He gets it from his father.

The next day, he was still in pain and refused to try and walk all day long.  But finally, right before bed, he decided to give it a try.

And now, there is no stopping him!

For now, he is sleeping on a mattress on our floor.  The girls have a fun time making up a bed for him and doting on him.

 The astute reader might notice the weighted hula hoop to the left of Handsome Dude.

I use this a lot, as is evidenced by my, *ahem* rock-hard abs.

So, that was our weekend.  It was very scary and sad and a lesson learned in safety with kids!

I am so thankful that he is going to be ok and it wasn’t any worse than it was!

My poor boy.

I have nothing of importance to say, yet here I am, starting a blog post.

Lucky you.

First off, I must share with you a few more of the Christmas gifts that were given to me.  Because you care.  I just know it!

1)  New silverware.

This is exciting on so many levels.  Something strange has happened to our forks.

?

They are all twisted-like.

Turns out our loved ones have had enough of us serving them my delicious cooking with those poky forks.

Oh, sure.  There were a couple of good ones in there.  David and I always used them and gave the poky forks to the kids.

It’s good for them.  They are hearty, rural folk.

But now, I am all fancy-like with forks that have straight prongs.  I am getting a bit “highfalutin” for ruralville, if you ask me.

2)  I got a new purse!

Remember my ginormous mom purse?

Justin loves it when I post that picture of him.

Anyways, my mom got me a new purse.  Handsome Dude really wanted to model it for you all.  For he is all that is boy.

It is much more reasonable, don’t you think?  It is called The Sak.  My mother also has the same one in brown-ish.  I feel it is cute.  If I am wrong and this purse is only for those persons closer to my mother’s age, please to do not tell me.  I want this purse to work out for me.  Thank you.

We got the kids Super Mario for the Wii for Christmas.  Last night we decided to give it a whirl.

We were stuck on this screen for 30 minutes and I am not exaggerating one bit.

We couldn’t do anything.  But all the mushroom trees were moving, causing to Little Dude to furiously shout:

“Why are the TREES dancing?!  Why!?” every fourteen seconds.  It was a blessed family memory.

Eventually, after 30 minutes of trial and error, Sweet Pea finally discovered that if you push the button bearing the letter “A”, the Mario character-type peoples finally start their adventure.

Unfortunately by that point, it was time for dinner.

That was money well spent.

I am greatly enjoying my Christmas break and not teaching the home school.  I mean, don’t get me wrong, home school is a barrel of laughs, but sometimes it is nice to take a break, you know?

Today, I was putting Handsome Dude down for his nap.

Which is a glorious moment if there ever was one.

HD (short for Handsome Dude . . . keep up!):  Mom.  Did you fix your hair?

Me:  Yes!  Do you like it.

(I had curled it)

HD:  Um.  It looks like you died.

Me:  What?

HD:  I mean, I think it’s not done.  You should do it more.  Good night!

That boy is lucky he is so cute.

He is pretty precious these days.  He loves helping around the house and vacuuming.  He is the world’s worst vacuumer, but I do not want to crush his spirit, you know?  Lately, he has also taken to organizing the pantry for me.

He insists on doing this and it totally messes me up.  He puts everything in different places and I pretend to not notice the stash of marshmallows he has hidden for himself.

Sneaky, sneaky.

Saturday is the last day of the year, and also Sweet Pea’s birthday.  She is going to be nine, if you can believe it.  I sure can’t.

I saw this post on Money Saving Mom about things some new homemade things she wants to try and make.  I was thinking of trying to make some new homemade things, since I am a 30 year old, rural, home school mom and all.

I already make my own laundry soap.  My dad makes fun of it.

If you can believe that.

Anyways, here are some new things I am considering trying:

Baking my own bread (we go through a lot)

Homemade Face Soap

Homemade OxiClean

Homemade Hand Soap.

I know, right?  Could I be any weirder?

I think not.

Anyways, I think one of my New Year’s Resolutions is going to be to do more homemade things to save money and cook healthier-more cooking from scratch and exciting stuff like that.

What about you?

Have you made your own face soap? And if so, does your face look weird?

Do you have orange whites like I do?  Darn well water.

Does your son tell you your hair looks like you died?

Did your husband fall asleep on the couch at 6:53pm?

Are you able-minded enough to play Super Mario on the Wii?

Is my purse cute?

Darn.  I should probably exercise more next year, too.

Boo.

Do your forks bend all weird after a few years?

Talk to me!  Chat with me!

My husband did fall asleep before 7pm.  It’s the least you can do.

Or not.  The choice is yours.

Happy Thursday!

I trust you all had a Merry Christmas, no?  I am feeling a bit overwhelmed as to how I shall recap ours for you, so I shall go with a list of the top memories from the holiday season.

Please try to contain your excitement.

1)  David and I took the kids to our church’s Christmas Eve service.  The dudes had a hard time acting “appropriate” for “big” church.

Little Dude (whisper-shouting and pointing to a lady near us who was singing and raising her hands up):  Why HE have his hands up?

Me (trying to figure out how to explain this):  Because SHE is singing to God.

For the next song, this dear lady opted to not raise her hands.  As was her prerogative.

Little Dude (whisper-shouting):  Mom!  Why HE not sing to God no more?  Does HE not like God?

Handsome Dude decided to kneel on the floor and stick his upper body through the seat in front of him.  Therefore, his lower half was in our row and his upper half was in the row in front of us.  Because he is well-behaved like that.

He was singing “Silent Night” super loud.  I mean really loud.  We had several adults nearby looking around for the source of the not-so-heavenly noise.  Everytime someone would spot Handsome Dude, sporting his glasses, stuck in a folding chair,  and singing his little heart out, they would chuckle and smile at us.

It was presh.

And isn’t it annoying when someone writes “presh?”  I mean, how hard is it to write precious?

2)  After church, we celebrated with David’s side of the family and I did not get one, single photo.  We had our white elephant gift exchange.  Little Dude opened a garage-sale rabbit cage that my sister-in-law had stuffed with stuffed animals.

It was, quite possibly, his most favorite all-time gift and it sits in his room right now where he lovingly stores all of his furry friends.

3)  On Christmas Day, I woke up at 5:45am and no one else woke up until about 7:30.  Daisy Mae was the first to come upstairs.

Daisy Mae:  Mom!  It’s Christmas!

Me:  Yes!  Merry Christmas!

Daisy Mae: I remember in, like, October, I thought to myself when will Christmas be here?  And now it is here!

Me:  Yup!

Daisy Mae:  Also, I thought to myself, “When will I be fourteen?”  But that might take longer.  You know?

?

Why 14?  I cannot be certain.

4)  My family came over on Christmas Day.  I did remember to get pictures of this event, mainly so I could send some pictures to my Auntie Datenut who lives far, far away.

Sweet Pea

My mom and Handsome Dude

Me and Handsome Dude with my gift from Auntie Datenut.

Please notice how the wrapping paper says “Taylor.”

David with the cd Auntie made him.

That smile is about to break his face.

Handsome Dude with the pj’s Auntie made for him.

Little Dude trying on his new cowboy boots.

Daisy Mae with the outfit Auntie made for her.

5)  For Christmas dinner, my dad made prime rib.  My mother insisted I take a picture of the hunk of meat for my blog.

?

So here you go.

Meat.

My parents have discovered AllRecipes.com and are quite proud of themselves for doing so.  I haven’t the heart to inform them that this site has been around for a bit. They found this recipe for prime rib where you leave the meat on the counter for like 5 hours, which sounds a bit shady to me.  Then you put it in the oven at 500 for one hour and shut off the oven and let the meat sit in there for two more hours and NO ONE CAN OPEN THE OVEN DOOR EVER until that 2 hours is up.

It was extremely stressful.

6)  My mom got me boots for Christmas.  The kind of boots that go up over jeans.  You know?

Like this:

(source)

And yes, that is exactly how I expect to look when donning my new boots.  I may be a couple of years late to this boot party, but I am finally here, nonetheless.

7)  Yesterday, the day after Christmas, Handsome Dude was trying to re-hang an ornament that fell down.  Instead, he knocked the entire Christmas tree over.

No.  I did not get a picture of the tree once it had fallen.  It was pouring water everywhere and we could not walk through the living room, so I decided I had better get the tree up post haste.

David and his large muscles were, conveniently, at work.

As I lifted the tree I knew that there was no way I could lift the tree.  All of my babies were in the “fall zone”, so I got that super cool adrenaline rush and somehow got the tree to rest against the wall.

Be impressed.

8)  As a result of my heroic moment, my neck/shoulders/back area is killing me.  I literally cannot move.  It hurts so much.

9)  When David came home from work, he helped me put away all the Christmas decor and remove the tree of death.  Little Dude, who was apparently unaware of our plans to un-deck the halls that evening, came down the stairs and shouted in fury:

“Mom!  Why do you HATE Christmas?!  Why?!”

Happy Tuesday!

PS-Is today Tuesday?

I have no idea.

David had the day off today, which is rare for him.  I was bummed because I had many things to do today, and was looking forward to a day off with him on Monday.  But now, he has to work Monday.  Lame.

But that is neither here nor there.  As I just mentioned, David had today off and was being “helpful” with the kids so I could spend all day in the kitchen.

Would you like to see how David “helps?”

Sure you do.

First, he entertains Little Dude.

By sticking him up on high places.

?

Hmmm . . . .

It’s probably my payback for my new sign that states:

“All Because We Fell In Love.”

Do you see it there?  In  the shelves?  Do you?  Do you?

Oh, he loathes it.  He truly does.  But it was on clearance for about $1.99, so he needs to get over it.

And now, whenever the kids are acting up or glasses are breaking or I am walking by with my 9 millionth load of laundry for the day, David gleefully calls out:

“Hey, hon!  It’s All Because We Fell in Love.”

Such a punk.  And I love him.

It’s like David’s version of Elf on the Shelf.

(source)

Have you guys heard of this?  I hadn’t until I saw them on Pinterest.  But anyways, we don’t put elves on shelves.
Just our children.

David also helps by helping the children get in touch with their creative sides.

He gave Little Dude a tattoo and did this to the girls:

Can you believe him?

He did, however, peel 10 pounds of potatoes for me with a twinkle in his eye and a song in his heart.

Plus, Handsome Dude was begging and begging him to take him on a bike ride all day long, and he did.  And it was like, 22 degrees outside.  What a dad!

So, I guess I can get over it.

Just like he can get over my “All Because We Fell in Love Sign,” because I have to deal with this business:

Let’s move on.

We made “flat” gingerbread houses.  And, yes, I got the idea off of Pinterest, and, no, I do not spend a lot of time on that site . . . why do you ask?

Here’s what they are supposed to look like:

(Source and Link to Instructions)

And here’s what our decorating party turned out like.

Daisy Mae

Handsome Dude

He was pretty modest with the amount of candy he put on his first house, don’t you think?

Little Dude.

Little Dude NEVER sits on his bottom.  He is such a rebel.

Sweet Pea.

Sweet Pea is going through a “Don’t take my picture” phase.  It’s not annoying at all.

My houses:

The one on the right is either A)  Santa, B)  A Puppy, or C) Santa-Puppy.

Your choice.

David’s houses.

David was quite proud of his houses and declared them the best.  He also informed us all that he had taken a cake decorating class in his youth.

?

This was news to me, my friends.  He may have been lying.  As he oft does when he is at home “helping” me.  I will have to go straight to the source on this one and get back to you:  his mother.

And now, it is almost Christmas Eve.  We have a very busy weekend ahead of us and the children are about to burst from all the excitement and whatnot.  We will spend the morning at home.  I will attempt to make my own clam chowder for lunch, which should be interesting, seeing as how David is the only one who likes clams.

But, he enjoys the clam chowder and his mom used to make clam chowder on Christmas Eve, so I will give it a whirl.

If I can cook elk, I can simmer clams.

Then we will go to church for Christmas Eve service, which is my favorite part.  Afterwards we go spend time with David’s family and eat finger foods, open gifts, and do a white elephant gift exchange.

On Christmas morning, we are opening presents and the like and then my parents, sister, and her friend will be coming over to join in on the merriment.

And yes, I am hosting a big dinner.  Because I am 30 now, and these are the things I must do.  But before I impress your socks off . . . my dad is bringing and preparing prime rib.  I am to be trusted with only the side dishes.  Which is fine by me.

I hope you all have a wonderful time with your families and remember the true meaning of Christmas.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

And I must share one, last thing with you.  The very first Christmas after David and I met, I spent Christmas eve with his family.  We had a wonderful time and he even surprised me with a diamond necklace.

This is because he had a job, but no house payment, car payment, electric bill, children, a not-so-efficient diesel rig, and a four-year-old boy who is not so gentle with the glasses.

But I remember that Christmas.  I knew that night that I was going to marry him.

Not because of the diamonds, people.

Because I just did.

And here we are, 13 years later from that first Christmas.  We are blessed with four healthy, children.  We have bills that seem to add up too quickly.  Appliances break.  The gas tanks always seem empty.  We never have enough milk.  And there is always somebody crying.

But God has blessed us and we have everything we need.

All Because We Fell in Love.

Ha!

Did you see what I did just there?

That was smooth.  There’s no denying it.

Merry Christmas!