A Mom's letter to Santa

Dear Santa....




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I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on demand, visited their doctor's office more than my own doctor's, and sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground.

I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmas', since had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt, in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find anymore free time in the next 18 years.

Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the grocery store.

I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year, I'd like fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools.

I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother", because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container.

If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely.

It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back.

Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and come in to dry off so you don't catch cold.

Help yourself to cookies on the table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours Always,

MOM

P.S. One more thing ...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.

Wasilla Winter

This is a view of the beautiful sky yesterday when I went to pick up my crew from school. (No, not night school...elementry...gets out at 3:30pm?) A few more weeks and we'll be at our 5 and 1/2 hours of daylight. But sunsets like this are hard to get upset about. Sorry its kind of fuzzy, it was on my camera phone.

A tree for Morgan

Everybody has their own tree for their room, and this is Morgan's tree. She just wanted "pink" lights, but we couldn't find any, so we have red and white. She didn't want any decorations, only a snowflake star at the top. Matt and I have a tree in our room...it's always called the "love" tree. It has red and white lights, red poinsettius, red ribbon, hearts, and all kinds of ornaments we collected growing up, and as newlyweds. The boys have a hunting fishing tree. Blue lights, and Alaska ornaments. Our family room tree changes every year. Patriotic, country, red and green...this year, Matt said the theme is RED. Red balls, red ribbon, red berries, red ornaments. I love my red tree.

Doll House Nap

I was updating our blog tonight, and Matt came down the stairs, chuckling. (or doing the Shelby Shake for those of you who know that one). He said, you've gotta come see this. This is how we found Morgan tonight, after we'd already tucked her in her bed. She was recently given this Barbie dream house....and she loves it. I guess I just never thought she's want to sleep with it. Oh well, if the Mountain won't come to Morgan, I gues Morgan will come to the mountain.

Houston's Gym

So we spent Saturday evening at one of the middle schools with a few friends of ours. The husband works there, so we had the whole school to ourselves. It was awesome! We went to the band room, watched Hairspray on the big screen while the kids played in the gym, and then we all went to the gym and played games with the kids. Eric brought out the pogo sticks, but none of the kids weighed enough to make it gounce at all. The favorites of the evening? The big pink ball, and the little square scooters (My personal favorite...especially with Matt pushing me all over the gym:)

Hilarious Snowman!

I've been looking for a poem, for this adorable ornament my SIL made a few years ago, and I found this...

www.poofcat.com

Cracked me up! I'm totally going to use it with my melted snowman ornaments. Thanks Karin! Your idea, and my research will make a really cute little ornament gift for teachers, friends, etc.

Pregnant Turkey Story

Last year at Thanksgiving time, my mom went to my sister's house for the traditional holiday feast. Knowing how gullible my sister is, my mom decided to play a trick. She told my sister that she needed something from the store and asked if my sister wouldn't mind going out to get it. When my sister left the house, my mom took the turkey out of the oven, removed the mixed stuffing, stuffed a Cornish hen, and inserted it into the turkey... then re-stuffed the turkey. She then placed the bird(s) back into the oven. When it was time for dinner, my sister pulled the turkey out of the oven and proceeded to remove the stuffing. When her serving spoon hit something, she reached in and pulled out the little bird. With a look of total shock on her face, my mother exclaimed, "Barbara, you've cooked a pregnant bird!" At the reality of this horrifying news, my sister started to cry hysterically. It took the entire family almost two hours to convince her that turkeys lay eggs! Yes, my sister is a BLOND.


Matt had a good chuckle when he heard this story.

Our Fabulous Friday

96...The number of boards my committy and I painted.
92...The number of 12X12 tiles I carried into the gym that night.
38...The number of glass bathroom blocks my dad and Garth drilled holes into.
3...The number of glass bathroom blocks that didn't make it.
57...The number of women who attended our WARD fabulous friday night. 6pm-midnight.
450...The number of marble magnets made that night.
270...The number of tile coasters stamped on.
4...The number of women who got high off the varnish spray we applied to our boards and tiles. (just kidding)

All in all, a most successful evening. Plenty of food, fun, and friends enjoying a night of crafting. Even for the not so crafty...everything was super easy to complete and take home looking great. The glass blocks turned out especially awesome. Thanks to everyone who made it such a wonderful success. I'll try and get more pictures downloaded of the evening soon. For right now, all I have is the sign I made for Gabe.

If I make it to Friday...

Okay, so if you don't hear from me till the weekend, its because I'm up to my ears in 6" X 24" boards and red, green, and blue paint everywhere! If you call me, I'll be talking while I paint, and no guaranty that I'll be able to focus on two things at once. I'm just not that talented.

You know mom's sick when...

So, we've all kind of had the icks the last couple of weeks. Nothing horrible, just a stuffy nose here, scratchy throat there. Then Monday, we had to take Chandler to the doctor for a rash. Tuesday morning, I woke up with the worst sore throat. You know, the kind where you can't swallow? You know you're sick when your workaholic husband stays home to take care of the kids while your mother runs you to the doctor. He took one look at my throat, and said "Oh ya, I don't even need to do a culture on that". Two trips the pharmacists, and a Z-pack later...strep throat. The next 24 hours are kind of a blur to me...Matt kept the kids busy, dinner was brought by a saint of a woman in our ward, and I finished registering everyone for our wards Fabulous Friday. You know mom's sick when the kids stay home from school, just because they have the sniffles, and get to hibernate in the basement with movies all day. You know mom's sick when Morgan wakes up, says "I want bekfast" and when she finds a container of Pringles, I don't stop her from eating them.
Consequently, I had to take Morgan into the doctor Wednesday, for symptoms of Strep, and yup, sure enough...our doctor was such a sweetie though. It was around 5pm, he saw that I wasn't feeling good, and I had left my insurance card at home. So instead of making me go all the way home, get my card, just to go back to the pharmacy to stand in line for an hour with a sick toddler, he sent home a back of the prescribed medicine.

You know mom's sick when she spends a week on the couch, no gym, no salad, and ice cream for breakfast is perfectly acceptable. Good thing my personal trainer is out of town...

Thankfully, 3 trips to the doctors, and 3 prescriptions for antibiotics later, we're all doing fine. Morgan is bouncing off the walls again...I can speak in more than a whisper, and Gabe and Matt have somehow escaped the ickies. This weekend is going to be spent reclaiming my house. Laundry in droves, dishes stacking in the sink...you know, a week of mom being sick, and dad doing good just to keep every fed, and...well, fed.