Sydney time

One of the things I love about kids is their simplistic outlook on life. Sometimes it's exactly what I need to remind me to stop worrying about things I can't control. Problems at work due to an unexpectedly cut budget? What good can come from stressing about it at home? Especially when a Barbie tea party is about to begin in the enchanted forest.

Jeff's Aunt Dee once again has showed her amazing generosity (and very impressive gift wrap abilities) by showering the kids with some early Christmas presents. The Barbie in the turquoise dress reigned supreme, inviting other Barbies to join her. The only requirement was a strict dress code. The party started with an insistance that everyone wear a gown and a crown. A shortage of crowns ended that rule, but the long dress rule remained in effect.

I think it's safe to say that the Christmas season is Sydney's favorite time of the year. The gifts, of course, are nice, but she also loves the decorations. I took her shopping Friday and she was in awe. Pier One Imports and Hallmark are both now known as the Christmas Store. So many ornaments. So little time.

Barnes and Noble is another favorite shopping destination for her. Though in her innocence, she calls it the library at the mall.

As we made our way through the mall Friday, I asked her if she had any ideas for a gift for Daddy. Hmmm.... she thought hard, then held her finger in the air as inspiration struck. "I know. We could get him a Thundar the Barbarian movie. He likes Thundar."

If I thought it was possible to find a DVD of the hideous 70s cartoon, I'd help her buy it. What a perfect way to reward Jeff for upgrading our satellite service to include the Boomerang network. As it is, I guess we'll keep looking.

And I'll keep enjoying all the magic and wonder of Christmas that I get to see through the eyes of my kids.

Christmas carols

"Being a writer is like always having homework."

I've seen this quote attributed to several people, and I absolutely love it. It totally explains why I feel a never-ending need to write. Especially about my kids. They do things, and I want to write about it, to record it so it's never forgotten it. Most of the time, the writing is an absolute pleasure. Only rarely does it actually feel like homework. Such as when I should be writing about yet another elementary school choir concert.

Now you know why I haven't written the last two days. I had nothing particularly inspiring to write about it, and with Christmas preparations reaching the frantic stage, I was able to find plenty of distractions.

Here's a very, very short clip of one of the songs.

Now, imagine listening to that while sitting on hard wooden bleachers, packed into a gym for an hour with hundreds of other family members, which meant the temperature quickly rose to uncomfortably warm levels. Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!

A few random thoughts worth mentioning:

• I've lived in our small town long enough to realize that any time you see a dramatic increase in traffic on our main road, it means one of three things: It's the community wide garage sale, it's election day or there's a music concert at the school.
• Kudos again to the music teachers and school administrators. They started off the program with kindergartners singing Away in a Manger. How's that for a statement about keeping Christ in Christmas and in the schools? Loved it! (Incidentally, each grade sang three songs, one of which had a religious theme.)
• The opposite of kudos to the third grade teachers who thought it'd be a good idea to send the gingerbread house class projects home with students after the concert. Trying to retrieve your child from his/her classroom after the concert isn't hard enough, trying to squeeze up the twisting staircase along with hundreds of other parents/grandparents who aren't completely sure where they're going. So let's hand out fragile art projects for parents to balance on large trays as they squeeze into the mob. That doesn't further slow down the flow of traffic at all. Good thinking!
• Next year should actually be easier. Sydney will be in kindergarten, which means it'll be her teacher's job to keep her busy while the rest of the kids are performing.

Oh Christmas Tree - part II

I am happy to report after Sunday's Christmas tree disaster, that our oversized evergreen is not only once again upright, it has stayed upright ever since.

We spread the re-decorating efforts over two nights. Jeff and I maneuvered the tree out of its broken stand and into the newer, industrial strength version Monday night. I let him do the stretching to put the star at the top of the tree, and then followed with lights and garland.

We waited until Tuesday to make sure those initial decorations survived, and then unleashed the kids with the box of ornaments.

Sadly, we discovered the ornament casualty rate was slightly higher than first realized. The number destroyed has risen to two, plus one is seriously wounded. But luck remains on our side. The second broken ball was identical to the first - part of a set of four I'd picked up at a post-Christmas clearance sale years ago that has no particular sentimental value. Meanwhile, the injured ornament - Mom, take note - is the ball my Mom made for Jeff. Somehow the hook and couple beads at the very top have come off. The ornament is intact, but I just have no way to hang it on the tree. I can't find the original pieces. They may still be in the tree somewhere. But I'm assuming this is a fairly easy thing to repair.

Alex (I need to get in the habit of calling him by his real name, not his nickname.) helped hang ornaments for a few minutes - just long enough to annoy his sister by commandeering the step ladder. But then, to Sydney's delight, he got distracted by something on TV, which meant she got the ladder and decorations all to herself.

Sound the trumpets. Ring the jingle bells. Sing a Halleluia. The tree again looks glorious.

For his part, Gus has mostly avoided the tree. He's hit it with his tail a few times, and of course had to sniff the new tree base. But we've consistently scolded enough that he - amazingly - seems to have lost interest in it.

One morning earlier this week, I'd let him outside in the backyard as is our routine. When he reappeared at the door, ready to come inside, he carried a small pine sprig in his mouth. (Most likely it was one of the small pieces Jeff had trimmed off.) The way Gus was carrying it seemed almost symbolic - a naughty puppy's way of extending an olive branch.

Of course then he ran past me, circled the couch a few times like a maniac and plopped down and began chewing it.

(Sigh.) As beautiful, big and expensive as the tree is, this just may be the one year I'm ready to take it down December 26.

Christmas card pictures

'Tis the season when I force my family to dress up in festive finery, gather close, stand still and smile brightly. Yes, it's time for the annual Christmas card photo.

This year, for added fun, we decided to use our fireplace as a backdrop. You know, the fireplace that was buried under so many children's toys it took us 45 minutes to sort and clean it all up. Yes, that fireplace. And then, as an added bonus, due to some technical difficulties with a camera lens, we got to do it not just once, but twice! (A huge thank you to my very busy friend Crystal for volunteering on two different days to try and make this crazy crew look good.)

As I looked at the proofs, comparing the good ones and laughing at the outtakes, I couldn't help but think about yesterday's blog post. I'd complained about my kids' lack of smiling in photos with Santa.

It just might be in their genes.

Our cat has become amazingly good at avoiding this annual bit of torture. Both times, as soon as Crystal showed up, Spike ran and successfully hid. Meanwhile, Gus did fairly well. Jeff's iron grip on his collar may have had something to do with that. I warned Gus he better just learn to accept it. This is just one of those things that'll be expected of him for as long as he's in the family.

Santa pictures

Dear Santa,

What I want for Christmas is two kids who can smile nicely on command for the camera. They both used to be really good at doing it. And goodness knows, as often as I take their pictures for this blog, it's not that they lack practice. AJ generally still smiles nicely, but every so often just seems to forget how to do it. Meanwhile, Sydney has started this silly, prissy squint that she thinks makes her look like a Disney princess.

You know what I'm talking about, Santa. You saw it first hand when you showed up at the kids' school for the annual Pancake Breakfast with Santa.

I will admit, perhaps it has something to do with the photographer (yours truly), because I managed to catch even you with some odd expressions.

Photo opps aside, Santa, thanks for listening to my kids' requests. AJ has been wanting a Lego police boat for a very long time. Sydney, if you couldn't understand her mumbling, was trying to tell you she wants the Barbie Princess Charm School version of a Barbie doll. 

I hope you had a chance to get some pancakes, Santa. They were pretty good. Though watching Sydney turn her breakfast into finger food made me glad we'd had pictures taken before we ate.

And even though he wouldn't smile for me, AJ made me proud. As we went through the line, he told the Boy Scout leader servers, "Two pancakes, please." They told him he was the first child to say "please" all morning.

So anyway, Santa, I've got my stocking in its usual place, and while I'm no mother-of-the-year, I've done my best this year. If you can help me out with this smile request, I'd appreciate it. See you at Christmas!

And that's how a ridiculously expensive 12-foot Christmas tree ended up draped across my couch

It all started so innocently. One of those wonderful family traditions that marks the coming of Christmas. Jeff and I took the kids to our favorite tree lot in search of the perfect tree. I probably should feel guilty that we've never given the kids the experience of trudging through the woods to cut down our own tree, but the guy we go to has a real sword from Thailand hanging on his garage wall, and for AJ, seeing that sword each year is the most exciting part of the Christmas tree selection process.

We looked at the trees in his garage, and they were all lovely. But me, always wanting to know my options, headed outside to check the trees propped along the fence. And that's where I saw my top pick. I called Jeff over to get his opinion. (Jeff's usually pretty agreeable if it means we can get out of there faster.)

Jeff pulled the tree away from the fence so we could see it upright. It still looked beautiful, though was bigger than I'd realized.

Note: Jeff's version of the next portion of the story is probably a little different than mine, but since he doesn't blog (and generally doesn't read what I write), guess whose version counts as the official one?

Me: "Oh... do you think it's too tall?"

Jeff: "It's fine. Have we ever had a tree too tall for our ceiling?"

(For anyone not familiar with my living room, it has a really high vaulted ceiling, though the tree sits in a corner where the ceiling's not all that high.)

Me: "This tree doesn't have a tag. We should ask how much it costs."

Jeff: (calling to the tree guy) "We're going to take this one."

The guy came over and helped Jeff carry the tree over to our minivan. He grabbed some twine and tied it to the roof. And that's when Jeff got around to asking, "So, how much is this one?"

I"m not going to list the price the man quoted. Suffice it to say it was $15-$20 more than we've ever paid before. Jeff tried bargaining down the price by $10. The guy said no. It was, after all, a really big tree. And it was already tied to our roof.

Jeff paid full price. We loaded the kids in the minivan, and headed home, with AJ happily chatting about how cool it was to see the sword again.

So just how big/heavy is the tree? Note Jeff's facial expression as he unloaded it.

AJ eagerly volunteered to help carry the tree through the yard to the back door. Ahhh... such a Rockwell moment.

Jeff wrestled the tree through the sliding door and together we got it into the tree stand, only to discover...

the tree

was too

tall.

We carefully slid the tree away from the wall until we reached a spot where the top of the tree cleared the ceiling. There was now enough space for Gus and the kids to squeeze between the wall and the tree.

Does anyone else sense disaster looming?

Rather than take the tree back outside and saw a foot off the bottom, Jeff thought it'd be easier to trim the top. He grabbed a step ladder and pruning clippers from the garage, and went to work. To his credit, it looked fine when he finished (as opposed to the lopped off trees you often see beneath power lines) and we were able to slide the tree closer to the corner.

I filled the base with water and covered it with a tree skirt. And then we let it sit for a few hours. Gus, of course, was curious, and so we did our best to yell and instill the fear of God in him any time he got close.

After hockey practice and dinner - by then, Jeff had left for work - I at last let my little decorators go to work.

The kids loved looking through the box of tree ornaments. Some they remember from years past, especially the ones they've made. Of course those were the first to hang on the tree.

It took a step ladder and some stretching, but we did it! I e-mailed Jeff a picture so he could admire our handiwork, noting that he was going to have to straighten the star on top when he got home. I just couldn't reach high enough.

And then I happened to get a photo that reminded me of my earlier fears.

In fact, after the kids went to bed, I started thinking about my next blog post. I figured I'd use a caption with the above photo saying something like "anyone want to guess the odds of the tree surviving the season?"

But before I took time to write, I ran to the bathroom to take out my contact lenses. And it was then that I heard a noise. The distinctive clang of a large jingle bell ornament. I ran from my room, praying that Gus had simply knocked the ornament from the tree. But when I rounded the corner into the living room I saw...

Disaster realized! 

Gus had pulled the entire tree over onto the couch.

Fearing everything from an electrical fire to water damage (The gallon of water I'd poured into the tree stand had all spilled out. Water tends to do that.) I unplugged the lights and did my best to lift the tree. Not an easy task. And once I got it upright, there was no way to leave it standing because the legs of the tree base were now seriously mangled.

Leaving it leaning against the couch, I grabbed towels and started sopping up water. Then I resumed my tugging, trying to pull the tree over to some wooden flooring near the door. I succeeded, but again was trapped because I couldn't let go of the tree. I finally dragged it back into the corner and propped it.

Bad, bad dog. Look ashamed!

I called Jeff and said I needed help. While I waited for him, I did my best to clean sap out of the inch-long gash I'd gotten in my finger at some point. Once Jeff got home, we moved the tree. He held it upright while I used towels to soak up more water, and then re-propped the tree. Jeff went back to work. I went to bed. Gus stayed in his kennel. Amazingly, only one ornament didn't survive the fall and, thankfully, it was a simple glass ball with no sentimental value.

Yesterday morning, I put a positive spin on the situation for the kids. "Hey, remember how much fun it was to decorate the tree? We get to do it all again!"

Jeff bought a new, stronger tree stand, so the tree is again upright. We'll re-decorate it tonight. Gus is still alive. He's acting relatively meek. Sometimes.

Ahhh.. the joy of the holidays. Let's hope this particular event doesn't become a tradition.

Let's see if his enthusiasm lasts through February

The first time it snowed, a week or so ago, AJ excitedly asked if he could go outside and shovel. We had other things to do at the time, and then it was too dark, and then there was some other reason that kept him from going outside. Bottom line... by the time he had a chance to shovel, the light dusting had melted.

Luckily for him, as is all too often the case, Mother Nature gave him a second chance last week. It snowed Wednesday night. Hockey practice Thursday kept him from getting outside before dark, but by Friday, he was not going to be denied.

AJ got off the bus, saw Sydney and I playing outside, and dropped his backpack on the porch and ran for his shovel.

It was little more than a dusting of snow, but we'd driven over it enough to pack it down. I told AJ he didn't have to shovel the snow with tire marks, but Mr. O-C-D insisted he wanted to clear the entire driveway.

He got about halfway done Friday, but then needed to come inside to warm up. Saturday afternoon he headed back outside to finish the job. He was so proud he insisted Jeff and I come outside to look. (We compromised by looking out the window and praising him profusely.) The entire driveway was clear.

Just in time for it to snow again Saturday night.

After Sunday School today, AJ couldn't wait to put on his snowpants and head back out again.

Part of me wants to tell AJ to save his enthusiasm for a real snowfall. It's going to be a long winter. Thankfully, We're already a month into it, with barely any measurable snow.