Better Blogs and Christmas Cheer

I am not in a blogging mood.

I am more occupied with negotiating Christmas with my husband,

who apparently doesn't want to buy our kids any sort of magical Christmas gift.

Can I say the man is imagination challenged

without spurring on my haters

to call me to repentance?

Do you know that the father of my children

let Santa's cat out of the bag

three years ago?

Oh, Yes he did!!!

Our kids were 8,5, and 4.

And they now think the world of their daddy.

Because he is Santa and the tooth fairy.

But I am still struggling to forgive.

Because I believe in magic.

And Harry Potter.

But because of all the things I have been learning lately,

I will not Christmas shop until LG and I are on the same page.

Because that is what Dave Ramsey says.

And that is what the Bible says.

And who can argue with the Bible or Dave Ramsey?

And I have to say after reading the Bible just now

and hearing God's admonition to reverence my husband,

I am feeling guilty about this whole post.

I guess I will have to repent.

Once I do I am sure that

our marriage will prevail.

One challenge at a time.

Even if everything seems to be a challenge lately.

I think Christmas should not be a challenge.

Who knew two people could be married

for 13 years

and never be on the same page?

This year if anything,

we will be on the same page.

And both of us will be happy with what is under the tree.

Even if it is only due to the generosity of others.

And hours of negotiation.

I've said it a million times before

but

2011

is gonna be our year.

Next Christmas will bring no negotiation.

And that will be LG's best gift to me.

The fact that he cared enough to negotiate this one.

If that makes any sense.

From now on,

we will hopefully be on the same Christmas page.

Is that just wishful thinking?

The older I get, the more I think

that life is really just one negotiation after another.

T'was the night before Christmas

and all through our house,

no raised voice was heard,

because we're espoused.

We negotiated until our hearts

were content.

And now the wife will not overspend

and have need to repent.

But, I will have to repent about the reverencing the man.

How can I reverence Santa Claus?

Huh? Huh?

He's fictional.

I hope your kids don't read this blog.

Or maybe they should.

Because then my husband will have some more

little people to reverence him.

He needs that.

Since he isn't getting it from me.

Well anyhow.

I wanted to share some better blogs.

For my loyal readers

who I have just left totally confused.

But before I do.

Really, how do you married people

agree about Christmas?

Just curious.

Did you negotiate year 1

and never argue again?

Or do you still fight about it?

I love my husband.

A lot.

I want to be on the same page.

Even if his page is to pay the bills

and give the kids as little as possible.

And mine is to make Santa magical.

There has to be a good medium.

Do you ever even think about these things?

Are all other married couples like us.

I can remember my parents always fighting over Christmas.

Mom wanted to make it magical

and dad didn't want to go into debt.

I wonder if this is the same story in every household?

So, on with the real fun.

My friends all have it figured out.

They don't blog about their private business,

leaving their blogs actually entertaining.

Unlike mine.

There is good reason why I am not blogging right now.

Check out Cally's homemade gift tags.

And Lori's movie making skills.

And Erika's honesty.

Jeremy's love for an awesome father, who just passed on,

and made me have a greater desire not to fight over stupid stuff.

Gina's photography.

Jennifer's yummy food.

Rachel's consistent gratitude, maturity, and resilience in the midst of battling childhood cancer.

There are definitely a lot better blogs out there.

But at least many of them belong to my friends.

I am off to make a spreadsheet for my husband.

Maybe it will help if I speak his language.

Lesson With a Flair

Abigail has been making dinner on Sunday nights.

I got really stressed about her learning to cook before she goes to college.

I am not sure why since that is at least 7 years away,

but it's all good since it gets me out of dinner duty on Sunday.

Abigail loves to search the cookbooks for something.

She is completely opposite from me.

I like to cook the same thing over and over again

so I don't have to refer to a recipe.

Anyway, last Sunday, Abigail found a recipe for

Chicken Catchatore. Or however you spell that.

I have never made it before, how would I know.

We decided to tweak the recipe a bit

because we don't shop on Sunday

and we didn't have all the required ingredients.

However we did have ginger.

Abigail wanted to add it.

LG kept saying to add more.

I told him that ginger is really strong

but he wanted more.

We ended up chopping and sauteeing

what Abigail calls

a whole leg of ginger.

About an eighth of a cup.

We fried it up with garlic and onion

and the diced tomatoes

and added some spinach

and then added the leftover Thanksgiving turkey.

And Abigail declared proudly to her sisters

that we would be eating

turkey catchatore with a flair.

I said, "One big flair of ginger,"

as I secretly added some brown sugar and milk

to lighten up the overwhelming ginger.

Abigail and Bella then got into it

about what kind of noodles were being served.

Abigail assured Bella that they were linguine.

Bella argued back, like she had some kind of authority in the matter

knowing full well that Abigail was

the one to fetch the noodles from the box.

Before I knew it, Abigail and Bella were having it out

about noodles.

I then hollered,

"Fine, you are both right

the noodles are NOT linguine,

from now on in our house

they will be called:

'Love one Another, who gives a crap what kind of noodles they are' ".

End of story.

As we ate Bella says,

"So we are having

Turkey Ginger Catchatore over 'Love One Another, who gives a crap kind of noodles they are."

And Sophia in typical Sophia fashion.

Always with perfect timing

and always keeping the peace

says "with a flair."

So from now on, our noodles will remain nameless

(don't they all taste the same anyway)

and anything that has ginger in it

will be with a flair.

And I call that one productive Sabbath.

I'm thankful for

frozen pies

frozen rolls

a turkey small enough to fit in my crockpot

redbox codes for FIVE free redboxes

(yes, we will probably watch all five in one day)

a family who is happy to spend time all by ourselves

a fridge full of food

a good book or the fourth good book in four days

friends who are smart and kind and thoughtful

(even when just an hour before doing something extremely thoughtful

they swore they were never thoughtful)

a singing baby in footed jammies and curls

(I always wanted ONE daughter with curly hair)

a place to live, no matter how humble

coupons

good weather

a working washer and dryer

cragislist - I made $20 today

good good kids (the best)

a husband I love

faith

peace

hope

grace

love

and

did I mention frozen pies?

and Sister Schubert rolls?

Peace and Quiet

Tonight I am grateful for peace and quiet.

I am not sure what is making me so grateful.

It may be living 24 hours a day with a very hyper 17 month old.

Or the fact that I am now the mother of a teenager.

Or that I have a daughter exactly like me who could talk non-stop all day.

Or the cheers and incantations that my only quiet child has felt loyal to practicing.

Tonight, LG is getting a sleep study.

I can't wait until he gets his C-pap machine.

There's nothing like a c-pap'd husband that can make a woman feel old.

For some reason, that just made me think the man was getting his yearly vaginal exam.

What is that? Not c-pap. But some other form of pap.

So, tonight, I am grateful for peace and quiet.

Because it may not be too much longer that I will enjoy this luxury through the night.

(Insert the sound of c-pap)

But really, I have found serenity.

In peace and quiet.

And I long for it.

Even if I only get it for a few short hours during nap time and before I conk out in bed at night.

Really Important Stuff My Kids Have Taught Me #25

Toads aren't ugly, they're just toads.

My two cents:

people who pose kissing toads

are ugly.

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

At the end of last week,

when I was having a really bad day,

a friend showed up

with a beautiful sketch

and a hand written poem.

It told me to

keep having faith.

It was perfect.

And then earlier in this week,

on my birthday,

my husband and I weren't speaking.

I am not trying to talk bad

about my husband

because I love him dearly.

It is what it is.

And it is as much my fault

as his.

But

what does a girl do

when she isn't on good terms

with her bestest friend

on her birthday?

I contacted one of my

newest and coolest friends

and begged her to go to lunch with me.

She ended up paying for my lunch

and bringing me a gift.

And it was all so sweet,

but the conversation was the best part

of my day.

A lot of my other friends

had already planned a lunch for later in the week.

And I couldn't call any of them because

we all had our kids home.

A lunch out for your birthday

is no fun with your kids.

And I had to eat out for my birthday.

And I really didn't want to do it alone.

My birthday was on election day

and it was so nice of Knox County

to give the kids the day off

for my birthday.

As my girls grow up,

every day,

they are becoming greater friends to me.

It's an awesome sight

to see them growing

into women.

Women who I want

to hang out with.

God is good.

He let me birth

some of my best friends.

They all know their mom well.

They let me sleep in

and baked me a birthday cake.

And they know how I feel about

birthday candles,

so they lit my cake up

for me to make a wish.

They said, "Hurry mom,

unless you want a wax cake."

I did it.

I blew out

all 37 candles.

My birthday wish

was for my husband to

...........................

Now that I told you,

I guess it isn't going to come true.

But it's o.k.

that we still weren't speaking

in time for him to take me to dinner

because two friends took care of it.

A friend on facebook recently

asked if Mormons put crack in their food

when they brought people meals.

Someone answered it

wasn't crack she was tasting

but

love.

That Mormon dinner was scrumdeliumptious.

And so was the venting binge

with the friend

who had made it.

Understanding hearts and

big hugs are sometimes the best gifts.

Yesterday I had lunch with

the previously mentioned friends

at one of their homes.

They got me a mani/pedi

and Baskin Robbins

gift certificates.

They also gave me a framed picture

with a mom laughing with her children

entitled

"Time to Laugh."

And one made me some

homemade salsa.

Again the conversation

was the best part.

And the

yummy homemade chinese.

I think it had crack in it.

Well, I almost made it through my week.

But I have been extra tired all week long.

I think we have a little bug.

This morning both Caroline and I slept until about 11.

Abigail walked in the door at noon.

She was supposed to be at school.

She said that she wasn't feeling well.

And that Rita had brought her home.

LeGrand was out of town for the day,

and everyone had tried to call me,

but I never heard my cell phone.

We got rid of our home phone last week.

LG ended up calling Rita

who went and brought my sick baby home.

Where would I be without my friends?

I don't think I would be getting by.

I love you all!

Thanks for helping me

scrape by.

Especially as of late.

Need to knows

Let's just say that Caroline

can be pretty intense

when she gets a hold of something

and doesn't want to give it back.

Let's pretend that she has never poked someone with a fork.

Mom's Revenge

I'm 37 years old today,

and the last thing I want for my birthday

is cake.

Why, you ask?

Keep reading.

This morning I shopped at Food City

so that the school would get a portion of my sales

for new computers next year.

Even though I may have gotten what I needed cheaper elsewhere.

(For the sake of this story,

let's just pretend I shopped at Food City

out of school pride,

and not because it is

the closest grocery store to my house.)

I bought frosting with Box Tops on them

even though they were 50 cents more

than the generic brand.

The frostings I bought were in special containers

that had TWO boxtops

each worth 25 cents for my school of choice.

And my kids get prizes

from the PTSO

if they turn in the most boxtops.

I then proceeded to make

TWENTY

cakes

for the second grade's

cake walk

at the school's

fall festival tonight.

In case you are wondering

what I did for the third grade,

I already bought

items for their

gift basket

auction

last week.

Coincidentally,

last week,

I also bought

the

sugar free

frosting

for the third graders

to decorate their

healthy rice krispy treats.

The sugar free kind is

mandated by the federal government,

who doesn't seem to care if it cost me

a dollar more than the regular

kind with actual sugar.

Oh, and for the second grade

I bought frozen yogurt

(also mandated)

and it

cost me $2

more than

the ice-cream

I would have preferred to eat.

I am sure that my kids

will not come home

tonight

without one of my cakes.

I wonder how much that is gonna cost me?

Not to mention

how many songs I will have to endure

as they hope they

get picked.

1/20 chance.

"Teachers,

I made 20 of those cakes,

please take mercy on me

after ten tries."

And

tonight

when I get a bite

of my own

homemade cake,

that ended up costing me

who knows how much,

and gave back to

the school

more than my tax dollars,

I will smile

because somehow I beat

the federal government,

and got a cake

full of sugar

from a public school.

I will also be smiling

because I will

be 100% certain

that I am an amazing mother.

If only I had some

regular ice-cream,

instead of leftover frozen yogurt.

Oh, and did you notice

the silly bandz

as part of the packaging?

HA!

Two can play at this game.

Even though my cakes might be

smaller,

yuckier,

and

cheaper to make

you know my cakes

are gonna be way more

desired tonight

than those store bought ones.

Thank you to the

founders

of Silly Bandz,

who have also taken

who knows how much

money

from me

in

the past year.

P.S. I wrote this post yesterday.

It only took $6

to win a cake.

And Bella chose

someone else's

cupcakes.

And nobody was choosing mine.

So much for mom's revenge.

But, I am still the best mom in the world.

Because it's my birthday,

and guess what my girls did

this morning.

They let me sleep in

and they baked me a cake

for breakfast.

Southern Drawls

The other day

LeGrand was getting onto Abigail.

How could she have a crush on a boy

who is always misspelling his texts?

I took the opportunity to tell him

that while I was on my mission

every time I read a letter from him,

I would cringe

and resist the urge to edit

with a red pen

and mail it back.

I know

I'm just a tad controlling.

But he had to admit

that I am about

the smartest gal in the world.

Not because I can spell

(for the most part)

but because I chose to marry him

before he could.

And he was in the 14th grade.

Abigail then said,

"Dad, it's texting,

you don't have to spell right."

I am sure LeGrand

was secretly wishing that he

could have dated me via text.