Stalling

One of the greatest lessons I have learned from motherhood is how to milk the moment. I am doing this right now, even as I write this blog post.  I am milking this moment that both my mobile kids are in separate tubs, de-sanding after the park, completely entertaining themselves, without fighting, without getting into anything, without breaking anything, without rearranging the presents under the tree again. At this very moment no one is crying, no one is asking for anything, no one is tattling. Every thing is right in the world.  

I should be rushing them out of the tub and onto the next activity, or I should be mopping my now sandy floor, or folding the laundry.  But I am stalling. I am milking this moment of peace and quiet.  

Usually these rare moments of quiet mean that something terrible is happening behind a closed door. Like yesterday, when I suddenly realized that it had been quiet for a while, I found that #1 and #2 and taken EVERYTHING out of #2's closet.  In our tiny house every closet is packed like sardines. So you can imagine how much stuff was unfolded, unpacked, and unhung.

I knew it couldn't last long. #2 is yelling for me.  

  

pink and brown, sitting down

#3 sat for a whole minute before toppling over. She is 7 months today.

Santa's helper

So last night at our ward Christmas party #2 was running around with a herd of kids, when he accidentally ran right into Santa who was just entering the stage to make his appearance. Up until this moment I haven't been able to determine just how much #2 understands about Christmas, Santa, the whole bit. The boy doesn't talk so it's really hard to know what he knows. Well, last night when he ran into Santa, he stopped dead in his tracks, dropped his jaw and with ultra wide eyes was only able to mutter, "Christ Mas, Christ Mas!" Yay! He gets it!

Then while #1 and I were waiting in line to see Santa, she asked me if that really was Santa. I quietly told her that no, it wasn't Santa, but a special man who does a special job for Santa.... basically the Santa's helper story. Just then her friend who overheard her ask if it was Santa says to her, Yes, it really is Santa! And #1 says in a super loud, instructive voice, for all ears to hear No, it isn't Santa, just a helper. Ooops! Immediately the surrounding parents, reassure their kids that it is indeed Santa and one parent whispers to #1, "Please, keep that secret quiet."

I thought that was the standard explanation. I didn't know anyone really let their kids think that those kinds of Santas were the real deal. What do you guys think? What do you tell your kids?

I've always operated under the premise that the less you tell, the more mysterious Santa is and that makes it all the more fun for them.

Panda Express

I'm dedicating this post to my beloved spouse who finally found something that I could eat and like at Panda Express.  

For years Panda Express has been off limits because the first time I ate food from their menu I was prego with #1 and it totally grossed me out.  I hate dark meat. HATE HATE HATE!  When the food was served, it didn't look bad and didn't smell too bad.  But when that first bit of meat hit my lips I could tell like a mother knows her child that it was sick, wet, fatty dark meat. And I've never gone back.  

Last night spouse brought home the one and only dish that Panda Express serves that is exclusively WHITE meat, String Bean Chicken.  Not only was it only white meat, it was also fairly delicious.  

There is another mainstream fast food joint that has the dark meat problem, Qdoba.  Can you believe that all of their chicken is THIGH meat?!?!  (gagging noise)

Doesn't every one serve white meat now?  How can we live in the year 2007 and still have restaurants using dark meat? (shivers)

 

Home again, home again, jiggity jig

Where have I been? My email has been flooded with desperate PFP readers, begging for my return, pleading for a new post explaining my absence. Because there is just too much to write about, and because I don't want to totally loose your interest, I'm going to report my recent vacation by photograph.

We went up to Spouse's family cabin the day after Thanksgiving with lots of his family. The kids loved running wild with cousins.

I love this picture because it shows how #1 is so excited by the snow. Little did we know that we'd get three more huge snow storms in the next week and a half. #2 called it SMOW.

Who are these beautiful women? My dear friends from back in the day of flannel shirts and Dr. Martins..... high school. These girls are as good as they get; always inspiring me.

#1 and went to the local production of The Nutcracker with her Grandma and cute cousin. #1 was spellbound by the dancing, costumes and music. However, for a girl who goes to bed at 7:00, that late night got the better of her. During the Pax de Due, she struggled to keep her eyes open and helplessly said, "This music is so beautiful its making me sleepy." Then she passed out in my lap.

Here is a baby who loves babies. Every morning my nephew would greet #3 with a big "Hi baby!"

Here we are at Tempe Square. The kids loved the lights, but got tired and cold quick. We went with our long lost friends the Judds.

McCall, #3 and I. I'm really not taller than her (a former pro-basketball player)... just wearing four inch heels to trduge around in the snow.

My little sister tied the knot November 30. She was a lovely bride. #1 called her "the bride" all day. "Mom, can I go talk to the bride?" My new brother-in-law is really great, but makes me feel old because he's so hip and cool. I have his name for our Christmas exchange. What do you get a cool 22 year old musician?
These are all the men in my life, waiting outside the temple for little sister to emerge all glorious in her dress. My dad, spouse, two brothers and two bros-in-law. Handsome hunks huh? Especially that gentlemen in the shades. Next to him is my totally amazing brother who was on an 18 day leave from his tour of duty in Afghanistan. He is supposed to get home next May, so if you know of any single young women who could handle this honorable, rugged, smart man, point them his way.

Getting this picture was painful. I had big plans. We were all clean, all dressed up for my sister's reception ... perfect opportunity for our family Christmas picture, right? Wrong. This one was by far the best and #1 and #3 aren't smiling or even looking in the right direction. #1 loved the reception. She danced to the band and ran around with her cousins in matching dresses. #2 ate at least 4 pieces of cake. So did I.

Mom, Grandma, three of my sisters, and one sister in law. My dress is totally the wrong color. That's what I get for shopping while on Vicodin.

Now, I'm home trying to settle into reality. I hope that once I get my floor mopped and my Christmas things up I can start to think again and maybe squeeze a few creative drops out for my next post.