Yesterday morning Kate and I attended an abbreviated, kid-oriented performance of The Nutcracker presented by the New Mexico Ballet. We've had tickets for weeks, but I didn't say a word to Kate about it until Monday morning, because I am not stupid, and I knew that if I told her we were going to see ballet dancing with tutus we would have to talk about it non-stop from that moment until it was time to get in the car and go to the performance several weeks later. As it was, when I told her where we were going that morning, her immediate response was "OK! I get tutu!" And ten minutes later she came back wearing this:
The reflective look on her face is because while I was taking the picture I asked her if she thought she might want to wear something else, seeing as how it was 20 degrees outside on Monday morning. Her response was "Hmmm .... nope." At least she thought about it.
I don't imagine it will surprise anyone to hear that she LOVED the performance. Loved. It. That child sat still on my lap for a solid hour, mesmerized by the dancing and the beautiful costumes and the music. Her only complaint was that it was not an audience participation event. She kept turning around to me and saying "Kate dance! Kate dance!" I have no doubt that she would have happily gotten up on stage and run around with the dancers if she had been allowed. She treated Dan to her own version of the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy when he got home from work, and she's been talking about pretty dancing with tutus for 24 hours now. I am starting to think there might be some ballet lessons in our future, assuming Kate can overcome every single bit of her genetic makeup and have some physical coordination and grace. Let's just say I never took ballet and the art form is probably better off for it, so she doesn't have history on her side. But stranger things have happened.
I think I may have mentioned before that I am not organized enough to take a family picture, print it up, write a little newsletter to go with it, and then mail it using stamps and actual paper in time for Christmas. That has not changed since last year and it probably never will. But we still end up taking a family picture most years so that my mother-in-law Lorrae can have one to use in her family newsletter. We took a photo for this year recently, and it only struck me as funny after I had sent it to her that we put Dangles the Monkey in the picture without even thinking about it. Of course we did. He's part of the family.
It made me realize that it's probably time for me to issue a plea for help with a problem I'm having related to this monkey and his serious maintenance needs. When it became clear that Kate was exceedingly attached to this particular stuffed monkey, we acted on the advice of several friends and bought two identical back-up monkeys so that if we ever lost one our lives would not descend into total chaos and suffering. That proved to be a very wise decision a few months ago, when Dan and Kate returned from an errand-running jaunt without the monkey they had taken with them. And now there are two. Obviously, given the amount of wear and tear this poor toy receives from being the companion for literally every second of Kate's days, I have to wash him pretty frequently. He's perfect for that in most ways, but the one problem that has arisen is that his mouth, which consists of a brown thread stitched across his face, has come loose. At first they were just a little loose but then Kate started pulling on them and at this point they're basically completely undone. I recently took a stab at stitching one back in place, and it didn't go so well because I don't know if I've ever mentioned this, but in addition to not being a very good wife in the Christmas card department, I am also a domestic failure in that my ability with a needle and thread ends at being able to replace a button. Badly. And with way too much thread so that it won't even button right. Translate that onto a stuffed animal's face and Dangles is starting to look like Frankenstein's monkey.
So. I am wondering if anyone has ever encountered this kind of problem, and if so, what you did about it? Do I just need to perfect my mouth-sewing technique, or is there someone I can pay or beg to fix these monkeys up for me? Monkey plastic surgeons? Toy fixer uppers? Your input is much appreciated. I have a feeling my job might be on the line. That's how important this monkey is to her.
Kate and I spent the very very cold morning with some good friends recently returned to Albuquerque after a few months away. Katie, Ellie, Clarence, and their husband and father Luke, have been much missed while Luke was in Afghanistan and Katie and the kids were with her family in Massachusetts. Now that they are back, we are looking forward to lots of play dates. Katie had these awesome sticky window decorations for the girls to play with, and I need to find out where I can get some for Kate. I mean, the sliding glass window in our dining room is constantly covered in fingerprints anyway, so it might as well get decorated in the process. More than one photo today, just because the girls were so cute.
And a shot of Ellie's handiwork that also shows off our blustery day. It's not that it's a lot of snow. It's the fact that it was blowing in sideways. My hat is off to all my northern and midwestern friends, because clearly I would never survive a real winter. I thought I was going to cry every time I had to get out of my car.
This is the first year in our seven Christmases as a married couple that we will not be traveling on Christmas. Around October we made the decision that we would stay home. Actually, air fare costs made that decision for us. It's criminal how inflated the ticket prices get during those two weeks of the year, and now that we have to buy a ticket for Kate, we just can't afford to pay the hiked up prices. We'll be spending some time with both sides of the family in January, but for Christmas we'll be at home. In our own house. Not in an airport. I'm not going to lie: I'm pretty excited about that. At first, it was a really emotionally hard thing for me to accept that we wouldn't be able to see family on Christmas. We really do love both sides of our family, and I think it's natural to want to be with those you love on the holidays. But air travel at Christmas is a nightmare that is unparalleled at any other time of year. See the Great Stranded in Denver Adventure of 2008, for instance. So while I wish we could have it both ways, there's a part of me that is relieved to have a break from that after seven straight years of holiday travel.
I've had a long time to get used to the idea that we'll be here for the whole month of December, and once I got over feeling a little sad, I found myself getting excited about making our own traditions. Which leads me to today's photo. This is Kate hanging an ornament on our very first Jesse Tree. I've always wanted to observe Advent in a structured way in our home, but since we're always picking up to leave the state sometime around the middle of the month, the truth is that we usually put up a Christmas tree for a couple of weeks and then work on packing suitcases and buying gifts in time for our departure. Not exactly an intentional, contemplative approach to the celebration of Christ's birth. So starting some kind of Advent observation for us was one of my first priorities this year, and I chose a Jesse Tree. I've always liked the idea of the Jesse Tree, and I like it now because it gives Kate a very tangible way to see both the days ticking off the calendar between now and Christmas and the progression of the story of God's redemption for sinners. I know she's really too young to make all the connections this year, but I hope this is something we can start now and keep doing until it does make sense to her.
I basically made up our Jesse Tree based on information I found online, and it's probably done all wrong, but I figure that makes ours unique. I found a list of all the ornaments we'd need, like an apple to represent the fruit Adam and Eve ate and a wooden star to stand in for the star that shone at Christ's birth. Some of them I was able to find as ready-made ornaments, and those I bought. What I couldn't buy I made using a great template I found online through the Reformed Church in America that allows you to just color and cut and paste the symbols for the different Bible readings. This was no great feat of craftiness, and that's a good thing, because I am not up for that. My crafting ability pretty much ends at cutting and pasting. I think Jesse Trees are really supposed to be leafless trees that simply display the symbols, but we have a short fake Christmas tree left from our apartment days, and I decided that instead of making a special tree, we'd just use that one. The whole thing cost about $13 between Hobby Lobby and Target, and we can use it all again in future years.
We're only a few days into Advent, so there are only a handful of ornaments on our tree so far. Actually, at any given moment, there might not be any ornaments on that tree, since Kate is so in love with them that she takes them off and carries them around the house. Unlike our big Christmas tree, which is located in our office and can be closed off behind double doors along with its multitude of fragile ornaments, we put the Jesse Tree on the floor in the dining room, where Kate can see it any time. None of the ornaments are breakable, and this is, after all, something we're doing to give her a way to touch and see the story of Christmas, so if she wants to cart the story around with her, that's OK with me. Even this early into the process, she gets excited about putting a new ornament on the tree and reading our Bible story every night. Her enthusiasm may have something to do with the fact that she generally gets some kind of post-dinner sweet treat at Jesse Tree time, but I suppose that's alright too. We are celebrating something here, and I want her to feel how special that is. Special and sweet.
Here is a picture of what our tree will look like with all its ornaments, on Christmas Day. Not that all these ornaments will ever stay on the tree at one time. Kate will see to that.
We talked to Dan's Mom and Dad, Grammy and Grandpa, on the webcam tonight. Teaching Kate to use this thing is an exercise in attention deficit disorder. She loves the idea, and tonight she even asked to talk to Grammy on the computer. Once the devices are all synched up and ready to go, she sits and talks briefly and then after a few seconds she hops down off Dan's lap and runs away to do something else. Tonight she was eventually persuaded to come back to the camera when Grammy and Grandpa pretended to eat cookies she "baked" and handed to them through the webcam. Those two must have eaten about three dozen pretend cookies between them. Greedy grandparents.
Dan has this uncontrollable habit of picking up little toys and trinkets for Kate whenever they leave the house together. Actually, I really can't even send him out by himself without running the risk that he'll come back with some new thing for her. His explanation is always something along the lines of "But it only cost 88 cents!" To which I usually respond "Yes, but the storage unit we're going to have to rent for all her junk is going to cost us eighty-eight dollars a month!" It's not that I'm trying to be the Grinch or that I don't think it's sweet that he wants to buy her presents. It's just that I am insane, and part of my crazy is that I hate clutter. I'm constantly trying to find new ways to eliminate and organize the unbelievable clutter that comes with having a child before it takes over the house. Meanwhile Dan is bringing more in through the front door.
Today's photo perfectly illustrates what I'm talking about when I use the word "junk" to describe this stuff. That? In the photo? That's the head of Elmo she's pretending to feed baby food. Why do we have the disembodied head of a Sesame Street character that you can carry around by a convenient handle in our home? Because it was sold in Wal-Mart as a holder for Halloween candy back in October. Now Dan had already bought Kate a traditional jack o' lantern pumpkin before Halloween, but on November 1, he was in Wal-mart and noticed that after the holiday had passed, this little gem was marked down from three dollars to an amazing 88 cents! How could we resist? An Elmo head! Just what we need! (I should note that Dan is standing behind me as I type these words going "No! No! It was 18 cents!" Like that makes it right.)
Kate calls it her "Elmo Ponkin." That is only almost cute enough to make up for the fact that I now have to find a home for the dang thing. And feed it, apparently.
Also, note that once again, my child is shirtless in this photo. We are really trying to put the "T" in "Tacky" around here lately. Please do not report me to the authorities. I promise she sometimes wears clothes.
Behold, Spicy Corn Soup topped with bacon. The weather in Albuquerque has gotten very, very cold, and this makes me want to cook soup. I really enjoy cooking, and lately I have been feeling creative and trying out lots of new recipes. This one I tried for the first time a few weeks ago when my mom was in town, and we love it. The poblano chile and red pepper add just the right amount of heat to balance the rich creamy texture. Here is the recipe with a few notes from me now that I've made it a couple of times. My main recommendation is that you cook a good bit more bacon to put on top of the soup than the three pieces suggested. The involvement of bacon is really the only way I was able to sell Dan on a soup based otherwise on vegetables, so I can't skimp on that. This soup is great served with corn bread!
Spicy Corn Soup
Bacon (3 slices, chopped. Or, you know, 6 or 7 pieces. More is also good.)
One small yellow onion, chopped
Celery, one stalk, chopped
Poblano chile, one, seeded and finely chopped (I don't use the whole chile if they are large. Mr. Bacon is also not a big fan of overly spicy food, and poblanos are no joke. If you don't like much heat, about a half of one of these will probably be fine. Also, do yourself a big favor and wear gloves when you chop this thing, because it is lethally hot and if you were to accidentally touch your eyes after handling one, you would pretty much need an eyeball transplant.)
Garlic, two cloves, minced
Milk, four cups
Heavy cream, one cup
Boiling potatoes, two, peeled and cut into bite-sized pieces. The first time I made this, Dan said he thought it would be improved by more potatoes, so the second time around I used three boiling potatoes, slightly larger than my fist, and he liked that better.
Corn kernels, 3 cups frozen
Red pepper flakes,1/2 teaspoon
Salt and pepper to taste
Cook the bacon in a large saucepan over medium heat. Transfer bacon to paper towels when done and reserve some drippings in pan. Add the onion, celery, chile and garlic to the bacon drippings and saute over medium heat until lightly browned, about six minutes.
Raise the heat to medium-high, add the milk, cream and potatoes and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, uncovered, until the potatoes are tender, about 15 minutes. Stir in the corn and red pepper flakes and simmer until the corn is tender, about five minutes. (While you're waiting, start adding salt and pepper and testing to see when you get the right amount.)
Transfer about 2 cups of the solids to a blender or food processor and process to a smooth puree. Return to the pan and reheat to a serving temperature. Ladle into bowls, garnish with the bacon, and serve.
I admit up front that this photo is kind of cheating, since I did not take it today. Tuesday's photo-taking did not go so well in that I discovered around 6:30 p.m. that I had unwittingly had my camera set to night mode all day, and so anything shot in normal light (i.e. all my pictures from today) looked like a laser light show. So I'm using a photo I took a few days ago.
Dan went out of town last week on business. This isn't something that happens too often, and for that I'm thankful. But in the last month he's had several two or three-day trips to make, and we miss him when he's gone. On the last night that Dan was away, I staggered to bed in total exhaustion, turned off the lights and went to sleep without taking much notice of my surroundings. Which is how I missed this:
Apparently, at some point during the day, Kate snuck into our bedroom and tucked her baby doll into Dan's side of the bed. When I opened my eyes in the morning, there was the doll. It made me laugh to think of her arranging the covers just so and then just leaving it there for me to find. I guess she didn't want me to be lonely.
Kate in the gift shop of the Albuquerque Aquarium.
Kate and I spent the morning at the aquarium. We have an annual pass to the Rio Grande Zoo and Botanical Gardens and in nice weather we probably go to the zoo or the aquarium once a week. Since it's gotten cold we've been venturing out less, and I didn't realize Kate had noticed until Monday, when we were driving home from Target. Out of the blue she starts talking about how she wants to go see fishies. Now. Right now. Fishies. The problem with this was that it was time to go home for lunch and a nap, and she did not take that news especially well. "I go see fiiiiiiiiishies! Fiiiiiiiiishies!" she wailed from the back seat. So to get her to calm down I told her we could go see the fishies on Wednesday. It's a good thing I really meant that because she woke up this morning talking about going to the "fishy house."
A few months ago I posted my thoughts after reading through Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. My conclusion was that while I thought the books improved greatly in quality as the series progressed, and I found them harmless and entertaining and engaging in a pop culture kind of way, I would not let Kate read them if she were, say, 14 right now. In the last couple of days I have come across two articles that articulate why I feel that way a lot better than I could, and I wanted to link them here.
The first is from Wired magazine, which manages to make a surprising number of very astute points in pulling apart what's disturbing about the Edward and Bella love story in their article "The Top 20 Unfortunate Lessons Girls Learn from Twilight."
The second is from Credenda Agenda, where Doug Wilson is blogging his way through the first book. That's a pretty funny proposition to begin with, so I've been following that series. I'm not always Wilson's biggest fan, but I think he's right about why this is not the ideal love story. Particularly this bit:
Last night after Kate went to bed, Dan and I put together her big Christmas present, a play kitchen. Rather, I should say that Dan put it together while I sat on our guest bed, drank hot chocolate, and read him three chapters of Harry Potter. It was a much better deal for me. Here is Dan surrounded by all the parts for this thing and still pulling more out of the box.
When we did the research and picked out this kitchen, which is a gift from Dan's parents, I read a lot of online reviews where people said they loved the play set, but it took them days to put it together. So I warned Dan we should get started early. But it really took less than two hours for my brilliant husband, and the end product is unbelievably cute. It's all set up and hidden in our guest room, covered by a quilt, and the only problem now is that I desperately want to show it to Kate, but I have to wait two whole weeks until Christmas! Gah! It's killing me. Still, it feels good to have it done, and I feel like we have passed some kind of parenting milestone by putting together a Christmas gift. And by "we" I mean "Dan." Good work, honey.
Tonight is the Christmas Pageant at our church. Last night was dress rehearsal, complete with two-year-old angels. Here are Heidi, Lily and Kate. I realize none of them are exactly acknowledging that I'm taking their picture, but if you only knew how hard it was to get all three of them in the frame at once, you would think this was the most amazing photo of all time.
And here are the kids on stage. This photo cracks me up because all the little kids are facing in different directions, contrary to their instructions, and Kate is standing perfectly still in the middle, not so that she can pay attention to what is going on, but so that she can check out her pretty outfit. That's my girl.
Last night's Christmas pageant at our church was so much fun. The kids were amazingly poised, some of them while reciting lengthy passages of Scripture or singing solos, neither of which I would have had the composure to do at their age. Many thanks to the intrepid Mrs. J and Ms. Margaret for leading all the work that went into this. I'd say it was a beautiful success. The only problem is that Kate is now under the impression that when we go back to church tomorrow morning, she's going to get to put on her sparkly angel costume and sing "Go Tell It On the Mountain" again, complete with hand motions. I keep trying to tell her that costume changes are not really a big part of the Presbyterian experience week in and week out, but I'm not sure I'm getting through. Here are a few images from the evening.
Most of the cast before the costumes were put on.
Our real live baby Elsa playing Baby Jesus. Elsa was also remarkably well-behaved, especially considering that she's technically about seven months old and capable of crawling away.
And, because I know the grandmas cannot get enough pictures of Kate dressed as an angel, here is some more of that.
It's been a long, busy Sunday and I'm barely slipping this one in before I put myself to bed. Not to mention I am cheating, since I actually took this photo a couple of days ago. But Kate had the funniest case of bedhead when she got up the other day that I couldn't resist a photo or two. If Johnson & Johnson Leave-In Conditioner and Detangler is looking for a new poster child, I believe I may be able to help them. That product is the only reason this child ever looks like she's been groomed.
Tonight, Dan is working late. Really late. Knowing this, I decided in advance that I would deploy my super amazing strategy for surviving a long post-nap afternoon and evening with Kate on my own. It's a very complex strategy with three points. Those points are as follows:
1. Get out of the house.
2. It doesn't matter where you go.
3. Seriously, just get in the car.
I know it's complicated, but it really makes the time go by faster once you get the hang of it. On days like this, I find myself so very thankful for the giant corporation that is Barnes & Noble Booksellers. I have a great affection for any place filled with thousands of books, but at this point in my life, I am particularly fond of Barnes & Noble for their childrens' section, complete with a train set for the kids to play with and a conveniently located Starbucks on the ground floor for me. I can sit in peace and drink some (yes, pregnancy police) decaffeinated coffee and maybe even glance through a couple of books, and Kate is happy. Lately she has even started looking at books with me, which I like. Books are good.
Once she was done with that, she started working on climbing the giant tree-shaped pillars in the atrium. While I was taking this photo, she was hollering "Kate climb a tree, mommy! I do it!" She totally thought she was about to get to the top.
This is Kate about five minutes before I put her down for her nap.
She looks about like I felt. Today we had one of those mornings. I tell myself everyone has days like this, but I'm not really sure it's true, so just to make sure we're on the same page, let me tell you about it. Before 9 a.m., Kate had several emotional meltdowns over nothing as far as I could tell. Everything was a conflict, everything was drama. Even though we had to be somewhere by 9:30 a.m. I stupidly didn't get up and get dressed before she woke up, so my entire morning was spent trying to get things stabilized enough that I could actually go get a shower.Inevitably every time I would get close, the phone would ring or Kate would ask for something else. As I was leaving the living room for my fifth attempt at this, Kate, who was running around in circles in the living room, ran herself straight into the front of our entertainment center. Much screaming and kissing of boo-boos ensued. She wasn't seriously hurt, but it took a strawberry sucker to calm her down. I actually got in the shower at about 8:55 a.m. Somehow, we got to our 9:30 a.m. commitment, survived it and returned to the house around 11 a.m., hungry and cranky all around. When I started listing lunch options to Kate, another inexplicable meltdown started. I completely lost my patience and went on a rant I'm not proud of, but in the process of counting to ten to try to regain my composure I remembered something that has worked in the past and asked her if she wanted to go take a break in her room for a few minutes while I fixed lunch. To my shock, she readily agreed, so I took her to her room, helped her climb into her crib, and at her request, shut the door behind me. Honestly, I think we were just stressing each other out. She spent a few minutes in there alone while I got lunch ready. When she called for me, I went and got her and gave her a big hug. She ate lunch, got out of her high chair and promptly laid down on the floor a few feet in front of the chair to watch some Sesame Street in the minutes remaining before nap time. I put a blanket over her, laid down on the floor too, and took this photo. I find it kind of sad and comical at the same time that she's lying there looking so completely exhausted while wearing a fairy princess dress up outfit complete with wings on the back. Dangles the Monkey makes a good pillow in these situations.
I don't know what the moral of that story is except that you know it's one of those days when you're both laid out on the floor in a heap by 12:45. Now I'm just praying she gets a good nap in and we can start over. Maybe I'll take a nap too.
Let the holiday reading begin. Every year in December, I read the same two or three books. It's a weird little personal ritual, but I love it. Those books are The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, and if I get all the reading time I dream of, All the King's Men by Robert Penn Warren. I am a re-reader, so if I really enjoy a book there's a good chance I'll pick it up again in the future. I also read plenty of new stuff in a year, most of it fiction, most of it from the 20th century, and probably half of it pretty forgettable. I don't view that as wasted time. Every book can't change your life. But this time of year is about celebration, and in my little world of reading, I celebrate by breaking out books that age like fine wine, that get better every time I read them, and that never fail to remind me that a great story, well told, is truly a beautiful thing.
Today I was enjoying the incredible luxury of having breakfast by myself at one of my favorite places and reading the first few chapters of The Great Gatsby. Kate was at Mom's Morning Out at our church (Oh how thankful I am for Mom's Morning Out) and after a checkup with my midwife for the baby, I had some time to myself. The hostess seated me next to a table of three middle-aged gentlemen in suits who were having some sort of high-powered business discussion. As they got up to leave, the last one to leave the table stopped in front of me and said "Oh, that's such a great book.I saw that you were reading it and I just had to say something, because I love that book."
"It really is so good, isn't it?" was about all the response I managed in my surprise. But I swear I thought that man was going to come around the table and hug me, one reader to another. I probably would have hugged him back. We book people have to stick together.
As this pregnancy progresses, a lot of people ask me how much I think Kate understands about the impending arrival of her new sibling. The truthful answer is not much. Dan and I talk about the baby a lot, and she'll even bring him up from time to time, but most of the time I am not under the impression that she really understands what is going on or even thinks about it very often. Then occasionally she'll do little things that make me think she might be paying more attention than I think she is. This is one of them: Recently, Dan and Kate came to an appointment at my midwife's office, and we all got to hear the baby's heartbeat. That was several weeks ago and she really hasn't brought it up since except to refer to the "bebe docta" a few times. But this morning, out of nowhere, she walked up to me with her little pink pretend doctor's kit, all business, and told me she was going to "check a hot," which means "check your heart." This is a pretty common game for her, but this time, she she was done checking my heart, she put her little pink stethoscope on my stomach and said "I check a bebe hot." (I check the baby's heart.) She listened for a really long time, and she was very serious about it. Here she is making her best bebe docta face. Of course, right after this, she decided the bebe needed a shot, so it wasn't the most accurate game. This poor baby is going to get a lot of plastic shots, I think.
Live from my kitchen at 3:30 p.m., here's what we have going on this afternoon.
Cookies: Baked dozens of these for neighbor gifts and to take to a baby shower tomorrow. Recipe here, posted last year during the DPP. They are good cookies if I do say so myself.
Clementimes. Those are the orange citrus fruit in that other blue dish. I'm pretty sure I've eaten about two pounds of these unaided in the last week, and I went to the grocery store and bought another ginormous bag today because we were getting perilously low, like maybe down to eight or nine left. If we ran out, I would have to cry. So we can't have that.
Crazy kid: She paused momentarily from recreating The Nutcracker's Waltz of the Flowers, which was playing on the stereo system at the moment. Her choreography for this selection involves running around the table in circles. We always clap.
Ten minutes before I took this picture, Kate had on a real outfit, one I had picked out for her and convinced her to wear, which is no small feat. Then she appeared in the kitchen like this. But she was so proud of herself because she put these boots on all by herself that I took the picture anyway. What are you going to do?
I am blogging early today and posting a cheater photo that was taken a couple of days ago because today, the Saturday before Christmas, is filled with various activities and happenings and we are not going to be pausing for breath much. It's that time of year. But Dan has been telling me that I really need to blog about something Kate said the other day, and for some reason, this photo seems to go along with it, so before I go, let me tell you a story.
The first thing you need to know to understand this story is that last Saturday, Dan very graciously loaded Kate up with him and went to run some Christmas errands so that I could get some shopping done without her assistance. Before he went, we had a conversation about stocking stuffer ideas for each other. We're not an exciting bunch, so when Dan and I talk about stocking stuffers, there's a pretty good chance we're mostly talking about picking up the kinds of things one might buy in an average trip to Wal-Mart -- I like certain kinds of pens, for instance, and Dan likes these little chewy Lifesaver candies. We also tend to give each other socks and underwear because you have to replace that stuff, or at least women have to replace it. I have realized in almost seven years of marriage that when a man's wife buys him new underwear, he doesn't think that's any reason to throw out the old ones. Men, or at least my man, will keep underwear until it just disintegrates into thin air and ceases to exist. That's how it leaves the house. But that is another subject. All you need to know for today's story is that we had a conversation about underwear before Dan left to go run top secret Christmas errands.
Fast forward a couple of days. The night that Dan worked late this week, I blogged about how Kate and I went to kill some time at Barnes and Noble. The bookstore is adjacent to one of our large shopping malls, so to get there, you pull into the mall parking lot. Kate was in a pretty chatty mood, and since more and more stores have Christmas lights up, there was a lot to talk about, at least from the perspective of someone who just this year started noticing Christmas lights and thinks they are a-mazing. I was only about halfway listening to her little monologue from the backseat. But when we pulled into the mall parking lot, the one-sided conversation took the following interesting turn. I will translate the toddler jargon for you:
Kate: "OH!!! Pannies for Mama!" (Panties for Mama.) "It a secwet Kisses supise (secret Christmas surprise)."
Me: "Haha, did you buy underwear here? And it's a surprise for Christmas? Wow!"
Kate:"Yeah. Not tell Mama!! Shhhhh!"
Later I told Dan that Kate had not only remembered what errand she was on last time she was at the mall, but had promptly ratted him out, and we laughed. Dan said the remarkable thing is that she basically repeated verbatim what he told her when they were making the purchase, which was. "This is a secret Christmas surprise for Mama, so we don't tell her about it, OK?" I think the lesson for all the dads of two-year-olds out there is that maybe you want to leave the human tape recorder at home when you shop for your wife this holiday season.
All in all, it's not like Kate really ruined any earth-shattering secret, and I might still be in for a bit of a surprise when I open my stocking on Christmas morning. Dan mentioned that Kate helped him with color selection in the umm, underwear store. She is really into hot pink these days. So this could be interesting.
The ladies from our church spent a fun Saturday morning at the home of Mrs. J celebrating the upcoming arrival of Baby Owen at a shower for my sweet friend Erika this weekend. Erika and Cody's daughter Lily is about five months older than Kate, and Owen will be three months older than our little guy, so this is the second time we've been pregnant at the same time. It works out really well for me because Erika is always a few months ahead of me on the new-kid process and she gives me all this great advice. I'm like "First kid? You go first, Erika. Time to have a little boy? OK, but only if you do it too." I should probably ask her how many kids we're planning on having.
In the first photo, Erika is holding a quilt handmade for Owen by his grandmother Linno, our pastor's wife, who makes beautiful quilts for all the new babies in our church. And look at this diaper centerpiece our friend Cora made for the shower. No, she didn't buy it. She made it. How are people this talented? I have no idea.
I promise this isn't going to become a blog where we routinely discuss the underwear needs of everyone in our family. It's really just a coincidence that today's topic, like the day before yesterday's, happens to concern undies. That's the only piece of good news I have for you, since from now we'll be discussing the exciting world of potty training.
Today, for the first time ever, Kate randomly announced that she wanted to use the training potty I got her, oh, six months ago, and then she did it. Before now, her comprehension of what we expected her to do with that thing has been less than stellar. It's not something we've made a big deal out of. I'm not too wound up about her getting potty trained and it really just seemed like something she wasn't ready to do. Still, Dan and I had agreed that the first time she actually sat down and used the potty we would make a big deal out of it in hopes of raising her interest in the whole process. So this morning we loaded up and went to Target to buy big girl panties (Kate picked out Hello Kitty themed undies. Hot pink.) and Gummi Bears to be used as bribes. I am all about bribery in this arena. I've gathered from talking to plenty of moms about this that potty training is more of a process than an event, so I'm prepared for this to take a while. But she was really into it today, and actually stayed dry all day, which was a great start. She is super proud of her new undergarments too, and if you see her soon, there's a good chance she's going to introduce you to Hello Kitty in person.
Now that I think about it, maybe I should have a little chat with her about that before our church Christmas Eve communion service.
Because of this dog, who was patiently waiting for his owner in the parking lot outside the bank we visited today, Kate is now convinced that dogs can drive cars. I don't know. This dog was big enough to drive a car. He had great posture. Maybe she's right.
Back to Barnes & Noble this morning for Story Time, which featured books about snowmen, a snowman craft, and actual snow that started falling outside the windows of the children's section while we were there. It's still coming down and it's nice to be in our house all warm and cozy.
They let Kate have her very own glue stick, which was brave. She was ecstatic, and there is a lot of glue on that snowman. I don't really have any photos of that part of the project because I was busy trying to keep her from gluing herself to the table.
Tonight we went to our church for a Christmas Eve communion service. We sat next to the Steeles. Here are Kate and Lily before the service got started. There were pictures of lit candles on the front of the bulletins for the evening, and they were blowing on them to blow the candles out.
Unfortunately, that was about the last time Kate actually sat still for the whole evening. The service started at the time Kate normally goes to bed at night, and she cycled through all of the Toddler Stages of Grief and Exhaustion before the night was over: Antsy, Crying, Squabbling and finally, Running Around in Circles in the Foyer During Communion. During that last stage, we had totally given up on keeping her in the sanctuary and Kate was alternating between dancing to the closing hymn and screaming "Christmas! Christmas!"
We did get all dressed up for the evening and managed to get a photo as proof. Merry Christmas Eve everyone!
It's about 2 p.m., Kate is down for a much-needed nap, and we her parents may take one too if we get a chance. It has really been such a fun day. Here are some pictures and video of the highlights.
We started the morning off with Monkey Muffins, a variation on Monkey Bread ala The Pioneer Woman. I heart the Pioneer Woman. I'm cooking another recipe of hers for dinner. But more about that in a minute. Kate was thrilled with the name of the muffins, and wanted to wear her monkey pajamas and eat breakfast off her monkey plate. And it's Christmas, so she got her way.
Then we read the Christmas story and prayed and headed into the office. Bless those locking double doors that close our office off from the living room, because they allowed us to hide the tree and all its presents until we were ready to open them. I mean, we were already up at 7 a.m., and being able to get some coffee and have a little time to wake up made the whole thing much more humane.
It was such a funny experience to open gifts with a two year old. Every time she opened one, she just wanted to stop and play with it for a while, so we'd hang out and do that and exchange our own gifts until she was able to move on to a new gift. I thought we were never going to get past the fact that there were Hello Kitty stickers in her stocking, which was the very first thing she opened. Stickers! Can you believe her good fortune? It was hard not to laugh, knowing that she had so much bigger gifts waiting, but it's still adorable.
Her two big gifts were given by grandparents. Gam and Geez, my mom and dad, sent her a totally frilly ribbon and tulle extravaganza of a ballet outfit, which she promptly put on and wore until I persuaded her that it would not be very comfortable to nap in. Here is video of her opening that and the dancing that ensued:
And from her Grammy and Grandpa Wachdorf, she got a play kitchen. I love the video we got of her seeing this for the first time because of her reaction: "Awesome!" I think I say that more than I realize, but it does pretty much sum up how she feels about the kitchen. Kate also got about 6,000 pieces of play food to go with the kitchen, and she has been cooking us elaborate meals since then.
The morning was so exciting she needed a sit-on-the-couch break by about 10 a.m. because she was getting so tired. So we watched some "Annie," and then it was time for more dancing and cooking.
As for me, I got the Pioneer Woman's cookbook, which I have been longing to buy since it came out in October. I am going to have so much fun cooking from this thing. I love the fact that the cookbook is set up like the Web site, with a lot of photos of each step of the recipe process. It makes things turn out well even that first time you cook them, which for me at least is usually the time when I make mistakes and take notes for next time around. Anyway, I am loving cooking these days, and now that I'm armed with this book, you really want to get invited to my house for dinner sometime soon, because I've never cooked a Pioneer Woman recipe that wasn't fabulous. I'm just saying.
And my big gift from my sweet husband was this:
A Bissell ProHeat steam cleaner for the carpet! Now I realize there are women who might not appreciate this gift, who might even be offended to receive a housework tool for Christmas, but I am ecstatic. If I had realized before we had a child how much damage kids do to carpet, I would have ripped every square inch of carpet in our house up before Kate was born. There is not enough Resolve carpet spot cleaner in the world to keep up with it, and I am just obsessive enough that it drives me crazy to vacuum and spot clean and still have carpet that constantly looks dirty. On the other hand, it's not like you want to have a hard tile floor when you've got babies crawling and learning to walk and such. So my husband comes to my rescue, because he knows me and accepts that I'm crazy, and that the filthy carpet is making me crazier. If this thing does a good job, I might end up doing a commercial for Bissell. I mean, if it cleans my carpet, it must be good. I'll let you know after the epic day of carpet cleaning I have planned soon. Seriously, I can't even tell you how excited I am about that. Many thanks to Mike and Susan, who helped Dan pull off this surprise by hiding my gift at their house and then smuggling it to church last night. Sneaky people.
Dan is currently playing the new Super Mario Bros. for Wii game to his heart's content, playing with his I-phone, which was not a Christmas present, but is a whole other story in itself, and has a pretty sharp new Minnesota Vikings jacket to wear thanks to my awesome wifely gift-buying skillz. Since I confessed my blog crush on the Pioneer Woman earlier, have I mentioned that my lifelong and largely dejected Vikings fan husband is probably just a few more wins away from leaving Brett Favre a love note next time we're staying at my parents' house and drive past the Favre estate? (The Favres live in Hattiesburg, where my family lives. I once served Brett Favre a sandwich at McAlistar's Deli, where I had a summer job, and did not recognize him. The male kitchen staff nearly had a collective aneurysm when they asked if Brett liked his sandwich and I was like "Brett who?") But seriously, I think I might have to compete with Brett for my husband's affection pretty soon now that he's gone to Minnesota and made my husband's football dreams come true. Good thing I have that cookbook.
Stuff aside, it's really just been such a lovely thing to spend a day at home together and be thankful for our health and our growing family and the blessings God has poured into our lives this year and every year. I hope your celebrations have been filled with the deep joy of the salvation we celebrate today.
"For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Savior, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you: You shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying 'Glory to God and on earth peace, good will to men.'" Luke 2:11-14
