It doesn't count til you blow out the candles

Abby's birthday was Saturday. And it was quite uneventful. Why? Because who wants to celebrate when they can barely breathe. When their ears and head are hurting so bad, they are on the verge of tears all day. When all they want to do is crawl in bed and sleep for hours. What kind of birthday fun is that?

So invoking my supreme power of Mom, I declared Abby's birthday rescheduled for Monday. It had to be Monday, we had way too much going on Sunday. I am seriously looking forward to February when maybe our lives can settle down. A little. And yes, I admit, I did feel a wee bit guilty that I was relieved to not have to celebrate. I'm plum exhausted, a day off was what we all needed.

Except after lunch and a great nap, Abby came rolling in my room to tell me she was feeling much better. Well what does that mean, I wondered. Because it was after 6 on a Saturday night and we had no reservations at her restaurant of choice. And I was told she was not in the mood for cake, so therefore did not bake one. I had rescheduled the birthday in every way and even I, who am the queen of things coming together at the last minute, was not about to try to pull a birthday celebration out of thin air. Not to mention it was cold and rainy outside and I was already in my sweats curled up with a good book. So I reminded her, It's not your birthday today, your birthday is on Monday.

But I did at least let her open her gifts. Bad enough she felt like crap and was deprived a dinner and a cake. And is screwed every year unfortunately being born two days after Christmas. Hopefully her gifts more than made up for the fact that her mom sucks. At least until her birthday Monday...

Which I'm thinking it did. And on Monday, she was very well. It was some of the other girls down for the count. But they could suffer through. We're very used to having one kid or another fall asleep at the dinner table, in fact I'd be worried if one didn't.

So she got her dinner, she got her cake. A masterpiece if you ask me. I know, it's a shame I don't bake professionally. And even though she had to wait two extra days for those candles which, yes I know, they aren't enough of, but there's 1 and then there's 2 and that makes 12, so it all works out, she is now officially 1 year away from the terrible teens.

Happy FINALLY Birthday Abby! We love you!

Every now and then, I cram a little culture down their throats

Last night we took the girls to yet another musical event. But this was unlike anything we had ever seen before.

Fans were dressed in black leather boots, long black coats with big silver buckles, heavy black eyeliner. And that was just the men. They pumped their fists in the air and yelled at the dueling electric guitars.

The lighting and set was the most spectacular I had ever seen. There were lasers, smoke machines, pyrotechnics, snow, and fire. Lots and lots of fire. It's a miracle that none of the long flowing locks of the musicians went up in flames.

So where did you take these sweet girls of yours Amy? Metallica?

Umm no. Did I mention that everyone on stage was in either a formal black dress or tux with tails?

We saw the Trans Siberian Orchestra and words really can not describe it. I had no idea what they were all about, just was looking forward to night out with the family. But now, I think I could totally get on board with this whole rock orchestra thing. I'm not sure that anyone else could go from playing Silent Night to Kashmir to Charlie Brown to Canon in D.

I'm not going to lie. It was a little weird. But I'm thinking I like weird. The girls seemed to like weird. And lord knows it's a far cry from the Hannah Montana and Jonas Brothers shows that we are used to.

I'm really hoping that Abby's orchestra teacher doesn't send me a note about her either twirling her bow or banging her head while rocking out to Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star on the violin. Oh, it's totally possible. We saw it.

And I'm not so sure that I'm ever going to get the girls, or myself, to the old fashioned boring symphony. EVER. Although, Kathryn might go and she still would probably do this...



But maybe without the hands. She wasn't so much a fan of the electric guitars. Then again, she's still a little young for culture.

Not quite the reaction I was hoping for

Christmas Eve, I let the little ones sleep in the playroom, the room directly above my room, so that in the morning when I heard the pitter patter stomp, stomp, stomp of little footsteps, I could jump from my bed and meet them at the staircase. Because I would be devastated if I didn't see how surprised my children were on Christmas morning at the wonders that Santa brought for them.

I waited for them to come down. It was only one. Kathryn was struggling while carrying two blankets and three teddy bears. Mom please help me. I relieved her of her load and she sleepily rubbed her eyes. She glanced towards the fireplace where Santa had left his spoils and then...walked right into the kitchen and told me she was hungry. Huh?

She ate her breakfast while I waited for her on the couch. Surely as soon as she was done, she would run right over and check it all out. I mean there was some pretty cool stuff there: a pink machine, the softest stuffed elephant ever, and Bendaroos which Santa had to sell Dasher so he could afford the expedited shipping. Note to self: Do not let girls watch Nick Jr the week before Christmas, they will see an advertisement for something that the simply cannot live without.


But no, she just crawled up on the couch and cuddled with me.

Kathryn, what is all that stuff over there? Who brought all that?

Santa.

Well don't you want to see it?

I see it.

Don't you want to go closer?

No.

Well how about checking if he drank his milk and ate his cookies?

Okay, as she stayed as far away from the fireplace as possible.

It's gone.

Great, hey, why don't you wake up Emma and let her know Santa came?

Surely, if she saw how surprised her sister was, it would pump her up. Because Emma was going to be in hog heaven when she came down and saw the new bed for her American Girl doll and the fancy-schmancy pram stroller for her babies.

Emma came racing down the stairs, came to a stop, glanced at the fireplace, and walked right to me on the couch and sat down to cuddle.

Umm, WTF???

Emma, what's that stuff over there?

A bed and a stroller.

And are you excited about that?

Yes.

Well go check it out.

Not right now, I'm hungry.

And then I looked over. Kathryn's pile, Emma's pile, Abby's pile which had a bad ass pink Ripstick, and Alli's pile which had...

Uh-huh.

Which had a life size stand up poster of Edward. Which was the first thing the girls saw as they turned the corner of the staircase. Which might freak any 4 and 7 year old girl out on Christmas morning. Because I'm sure the last thing you are expecting Santa to bring is a vampire.

Eventually they got over it all and were thrilled with their gifts. But when Alli got home the next day...




Now that's what I'm talking about! At least someone was excited to see him.

Spirit: Christmas and Life

I want to show you something...

This picture was taken in Galveston in July, long before Hurricane Ike hit.

This picture was taken yesterday from the same exact spot.

We went to Galveston this weekend to do one of our favorite things, the Moody Gardens Festival of Lights. Usually this is our Thanksgiving tradition but you might remember we went on a crazy drive to North Carolina instead to see some grandmas.

4 generations

So this was the weekend we could squeeze the lights in. It was our first trip to the island since the hurricane and all I can say is WOW! I have to tell you how amazed I am at the spirit of the people who live there. They are AMAZING! So many have taken the storm and turned it into an opportunity to better their homes and businesses. I had my doubts about what Galveston would look like and what would be open. Oh yeah, it was a mini HMIMs Weekend scouting mission as well! And there is so much more going on than I thought. And the spirit of the people there is truly inspiring.

The girls loved the lights, they always do, even though it was a condensed version this year. But the fact they put on the festival at all was so nice. I'm thinking the folks of Galveston really do appreciate this little bit of Christmas!

We were FREEZING! I mean, I know I shouldn't complain, seeing what temperatures are up north and all, but seriously we were cold. All the gear came out and the girls were ready to roll. Kathryn says What up!

The favorite display, every year...

And how can you not love a man who willingly wears a goofy hat?

He got so many compliments and heard none of them since his ears were covered.

We miss Alli and Abby!

And best of all...

the reason for the season! And the true meaning of spirit all around.

Sometimes, I make Scrooge look good

Every other year around the holidays, I go on a crazy emotional roller coaster ride. I sometimes downright scare my kids and my husband, it's so bad. I turn into this mean, unhappy, anti- Christmas thing. But I've got good reason. I don't like to share. And every other year, I have to.

My girls, Alli and Abby. It's an even numbered year, which means that Christmas is not spent with me but with their father, which just plain SUCKS!

I've figured out that on these years, I spend a whole lot of time dwelling on the fact that they won't be with us on THAT day, rather than taking advantage of the days that they are home. It was easier when all the girls were younger. We'd totally reschedule Christmas. We'd write Santa a letter letting him know that we needed him to make a special stop on this night instead of that one. When the girls had no idea what a calendar was, it was so much easier.

But now there are two other sisters who are avid followers of every stinking advent countdown thing in our house. So there is no rescheduling Christmas. And there is no we'll just wait for your sisters to get home to celebrate. Could you imagine if I told them they couldn't open any of their gifts under the tree for a few extra days? Do you really think they would believe now that Santa makes special trips just for us when they've seen or read a billion versions of what happens on Christmas Eve, and only Christmas Eve?

Alli and Abby miss out on so much when they are gone. It hurts to think that they are not sharing all the celebrations with us. On our trips to La Grange or the children's service or Christmas Eve at Granny's or mimosas and cinnamon rolls on Christmas morning. And in all of our "family" photos during the season, our family is not complete.

I have to know that they are with their father and his family, who do indeed love them to pieces. I have to know that they are having fantastic celebrations of their own. But I can be a little pissed that they aren't here with me.

After all, I'm the one that carried them, that birthed them, that struggled as a single mom with them, that nurses them when they are sick, that gets them to school every morning, that buys them socks and underwear, that grounds them, that forces them to eat their peas, that comforts them when friendships go awry, that takes them for their dental cleanings, that runs out at 10pm for a white poster board, that yells at them to clean their rooms, and every other joyous thing that comes with being their mother. So yes, I'm a little bitter, all Bah humbug if you will, when every other year, they aren't here.

Not that I think their father doesn't deserve that time with them as well. But I'm the one that does all the grunt work and gets none of the glory. So I kinda don't feel bad that I really want them on that one day of the year. I'm speaking as a divorced mom and a child of divorce myself. Sometimes, Christmas just sucks!

But this year, I'm trying, I really am. I'm trying to be positive and fight off the gloom and doom that sometimes washes over me. I'm trying to not fall to pieces as I did in those early years when they were gone and I was all alone. I'm trying to be happy for the man and the children that are here with me. And I think I'm doing okay, so far.

In a few days, it might be a different story.

I could still be happy. Especially if I keep spiking that egg nog.

Santa...and steak. It doesn't get much better.

I can't remember a better visit with Santa. Front row parking in the mall lot and absolutely no line to see him. And no tears, oh how I love no tears. Although Alli was close.

"Do I really have to take a picture with him?"

"Umm, yeah. I outfit your little butt in abercrombie, allow you to have a cell phone, and take your friends to concerts, I think the least you could do is sit there and smile. But not on his lap, because you're a little too old for that."

At least I didn't force her to wear a matching shirt like last year. I wouldn't dare cause her the embarrassment of actually looking as cute as her sisters. Although I did have them all in black, to signify the coal they are all getting this year. They've not been so good.

The best part of our little time with Santa would have to be what the girls asked for. Usually I'm standing there praying they aren't wanting the latest and greatest and sold out toy. Usually we do this much earlier in the month so I can track down whatever they ask for. This year, I just crossed my fingers and heard that Kathryn would like nothing more than some paper and markers. And Emma said ,"Whatever Santa, just surprise me." Is that not brilliant? Santa so LOVES those answers!

Every year after seeing Santa we go to our favorite restaurant to visit during the holidays. Nothing gets me in the mood like going to Taste of Texas and seeing how beautifully decked their halls are. Not to mention the awesome steaks, fantastic wine, and the BEST baked potato soup on the planet. I could seriously eat a barrel.

I was posing the girls in front of the fireplace for a picture when a very nice old gentleman rolled by and basically ordered me to surrender my camera and go sit with my family. He asked "how to work this new fangled gadget" to which I replied, I'm still not really sure. He rolled forward and backward and forward and backward again in his electric scooter and I had to whisper to Emma that she could not have a ride. It only took him 5 minutes to get situated and we weren't about to ask him to snap another, just to make sure. So as good as it gets...

And why is Momma so happy? And blurry? What happens when 7 year olds play with cameras.

Because she's so happy to be sharing this wonderful night with her family, who maybe will get a little more than coal? Because she was able to relax and just let some stress melt away, if only for an hour? Because her husband is grabbing her butt?

No it's because our waiter looked exactly like Vin Diesel.

As if I needed another reason to go back. The birthday is only 18 days away...

Stress, It's part of the tradition

Every year, there are a few things that raise my blood pressure just a bit in getting ready for the holidays. But every year, I forget them. I liken it to childbirth. You forget how much it hurts until you are doing it again.

Every year the Tarn-X comes out. I curse the fact that I ever bought these stupid Santa stocking holders from Pottery Barn. I dig for gloves and cotton balls and stand in the kitchen and rub, rub, rub. And say never again, this is the LAST year, but then they just turn out so pretty.

Every year the tub of Christmas books comes out and of course the FAVORITE from the previous year is the one missing. They fight about what book we're reading every night, no matter that I have them draw the titles from a jar. Because half the time, I put the title back and tell them to draw again. Yes, it might be my fault that I have 17 different versions of The Night Before Christmas, but I don't necessarily want to read them all.

Every year, we paint their handprints to add to the tree skirt and I holler after them the whole way down the hall, "Do not touch anything!!" They do.

Every year, they decorate the tree in two minutes flat and I now have absolutely no say so in where any ornament goes. But next year, I'm hoping there will be a second tree and maybe then I can at least hang the angel ornament from when I was a baby.

And then I try to get a decent picture of them in front of the tree. Which is never, ever gonna happen. So I choose to let them act stupid, they seem to do that well.

We've added a few more stresses traditions to our season.

He's back...

And not quite as effective as last year. But sometimes the threats still work. Of course I still manage to wake in a sweat around 3am when I realize I forgot to move the damn elf!

Here we grow again.

I'm a glutton for punishment. I am bound and determined to be able to keep a stupid grasshead alive. Although Santa is looking a little doomed right from the get go. At least these guys are seasonal so it won't be too traumatic when I kill them.

Of course there are many more. The yearly fight with the banister and the garland. The yearly fight with the hubs to get lights in the yard. The trips to multiple grocery stores to find Borden Egg Nog, the rich recipe, because I'm a snob and that's all I'll drink. Making sure that everyone has the same exact number of gifts to open because you know they are counting. Trying to remember who's turn it is to put the ornament on the advent tree. Fitting two of the girls' birthdays into the mix. And don't even get me started on trying to take the Christmas card photo.

Which is why, every year, the best gift, is the gift certificate to the spa.

Teacher's Pet

I kinda don't have it all together this holiday season. I'd say I'm more or less a giant fruitcake with no plan this year and totally winging the holidays. Luckily, I'm blessed with really awesome room moms this year who have been on the ball about asking for cash to purchase a class gift. Even though I haven't been so on the ball about getting it to them on time. But it's all good, my daughters names are on the cards.

Teacher gifts seem to be the last thing I think of at this time. Maybe because I really want to avoid them all together. I mean we like to eat and we appreciate all the benefits of electricity and if we had to buy gifts for all the girls' teachers, we might be cooking Spam over candles.

And of course, I forget about all the extra people as well. Coaches, dance instructors, horseback riding, bus driver, etc...

So this morning when Kathryn walked into ballet and just so happened to be the ONLY kid who did not bring a gift for Miss D, I felt about an inch tall. And I couldn't even blame it on the fact that I have four kids, because I'm not the only one in that class that does. Even the two moms with newborns had their acts together. Why couldn't everyone just be a fruitcake like me? I thought I might run up to Starbucks real quick and grab a gift card, then decided against it since Miss D is pregnant and coffee might not be what she's needing this year.

Kathryn was a little sad that her mom sucks she didn't have a gift but Miss D was so sweet about it. She told Kathryn all she really wanted was a big hug and Kathryn gives the BEST hugs so boy did she get a great gift there.

Because honestly, how many ballerina ornaments and hand lotion does a teacher really need?

She's Crafty

I'm a little confused when it comes to the whole party favor etiquette thing. I thought that getting whatever ceramic creation the girls painted at Emma's party should be good enough, but those wouldn't be ready until the next week. And I didn't want to be the mom, or her the child, who God forbid, did not provide a proper party favor. But I sure as heck wasn't going to provide the standard bag of junk bubbles, candy, and necklace.

So Steven and I went to Hobby Lobby and I found plain white aprons. He was ready to go, because he really hates Hobby Lobby, says it smells funny, but I told him I wanted to look at the iron-on patches. To which he replied, in front of several other patrons, "Well that would mean you would actually have to iron right?"


We also ended up with a new accent table. Because I am a really good actress get my feelings hurt easily.

Some pics from Emma's party, she had a super fun time!

Make a Smilebox postcard

I love when I get it right

Well, her, obviously. I definitely got her right. And each year it just gets better.

EmmaBear turned 7 today! And a great day it was.

GranDad and GranJanet came for a visit and dinner. Her choice, the Japanese steakhouse of course. Hoping we can continue the streak of not getting lice from the communal birthday hat.

THE present! I mean she got a few, but she's probably already forgotten them. She scored some more Webkinz which are still my favorite toy ever. She was super excited to finally be old enough to get a James Avery charm bracelet complete with a popcorn charm, her favorite everyday run to the kitchen and don't even tell mom hi before she puts a bag in the microwave after school snack.

But THE present...

Seriously pure joy.

I don't think I've ever gotten a better gift.

Attached at the hip they are. "Elizabeth" even helped blow out the candles.

Dude, if only Christmas is this good...

We've got spirit, yes we do

We've got spirit, how 'bout you? Corny I know, but I bet you would never guess I was a cheerleader in middle school. And honestly, I really haven't been much in the spirit until yesterday.

In the morning, Kathryn was a shepherd in the telling of the story of the birth of baby Jesus. Her and about 20 of her closest friends. While I was sitting back watching these precious little kids dressed as shepherds, angels, cows, and sheep, I realized that the really cute one, right in the front row, smacking her gum as loud as could be, was no other than my pride and joy. Oops, forgot about that. I sunk down in my seat a bit. But when it came time for the line, the one glorious line that ALL the shepherds were supposed to say, only ONE voice rang out loud and true. And that voice belonged to that sweet gum-smacking cutie whose momma sat up a little taller then.

I ran to the mall to do a little shopping. Did you know it was all of 31 in H-town yesterday? Which meant the gloves, hats, and coats all made appearances from the deep recesses of the closet. As I was walking in, talking to my sis-in-law on the phone, I asked how the heck did they shop in NJ? I mean I was going to have to walk around, carry my bags, carry my purse, and carry my coat? Because I couldn't very well bring the stroller in with no kid, could I? That would just be plain strange. I was very irritated with the fact that in New Jersey they have coat checks and here they do not.

I went to the cookie counter to grab a snack, pulled out a five from my wallet to pay, which was quickly rejected. Apparently if all four corners are not accounted for, the money is no good. I stood there and started digging in my purse for change, because even I am not going to put $1.22 on my credit card, when the nice young man behind me told me he would buy my cookie and wished me a Merry Christmas. I just really appreciated such a kind and unexpected gesture but was a wee bit disappointed when he did not offer to follow me around the mall and carry my bags.

While sitting at gymnastics watching Kathryn flip around, I looked outside and saw it. SNOW!! Or our version of it, which to us native Houstonians was pretty dang cool. We raced home and the girls ran around and played for quite a while. None of it stuck, you could barely see it, but it was there, and you could catch flakes on your tongue, and it was just plain exciting for them and all the neighbors. You never saw people acting more like idiots over some frozen water.

In the evening, we attended Abby's orchestra concert. I didn't dare miss this performance. Sitting there listening to Jingle Bells and looking out the window to see real actual snow coming down, I can't even describe the feeling. But I know that I was happy and joyous and proud and ready to embrace this time of year with family and friends.

The house is decorated. The traditions are in place. The cards are piling in. The white elephant gift exchanges and catty thefts are occurring, can not believe that witch took my candy jar. The Christmas music is on. The hot chocolate is flowing. The love is all around. The spirit is abounding.

And the flip flops are coming back out. 78 on Sunday and maybe it could stay for a while. I really don't wish for a white Christmas at all. If I did, I'd be in New Jersey.

He must love us

To accompany us on our little outing last night. And when I say us, I mean Alli and Abby and 6 of their closest friends. That translates into 8 girls aged 11-14.

Not that he had a choice really. I mean I have a huge honkin' mom-mobile but it doesn't seat that many. And by forcing asking Daddy to come along, Emma and Kathryn got to go too.

Go where? To Jingle Jam 2008!

David Enchilada Ackalotta Archuleta- too stinkin' cute and I'm really hoping he's not going the way of Clay Aiken

Colbie Calliat- boooooorrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnngggggggggg zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Gavin DeGraw- rocked the freakin' house, my new musical crush and he just so happens to have the most awesome concert T-shirt I've ever seen.

Rhianna- the girl can sing but she can also work on her showmanship. Let me wrap up her dance routine for you :bend down, stand up, bang the head, raise the fist, bend backwards. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Chris Brown- dude, AWESOME! You couldn't even see his feet, they were flying so fast. He might want to show his girlfriend some moves.

Special guest host Nick Lachey called out the Dallas Cowboys, I'm not thinking that was a personal shot at his ex-wife at all. And the football reference was probably all Steven was excited about seeing as how he recognized two maybe three songs the whole night.

But he endured the screaming, the squealing, the dancing, and the giggles. All in the name of love. For me, for them. He's a good man. And I owe him big time. Especially after being thrown up on.

Note to self: Emma should not overeat on cookies, popcorn, french fries and nachos just because she's bored. The consequences are not pretty. And lead to 12 people trying to inconspicuously leave the arena pretending they have no idea what's all over the carpet. Dang, we were thisclose to the parking garage.

It's just too fun...

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Winner and Still Champion- Mommy Guilt

So this is the time of the year where all you folks north of here let me know how much of a wimp I am for whining about the cold. Well, there's a reason I don't live north of here, so I can whine if I want to ;-)

Last night I was debating on whether or not to take Krazy K on her class field trip to the Christmas Tree Farm. Debating because the numbers on the forecast were well below 80. And I'm not a fan of coats or hats or gloves. I think I actually own all of those things but seeing how I really only need them once, maybe twice a year, they remain hidden somewhere deep in the pit known as my closet.

Since my dear sweet husband was off today I took the liberty of sleeping in. At 9am my eyes popped wide open. It was at that exact moment we were supposed to be assembling in the classroom to get maps and such and head on our way.

I called Kathryn to my room and let her know that we would not be going to school today. Which should have been totally fine, since every time I drive her to school, she doesn't want to go. So the one day that I give her free rein to hang out with Mom all day, she sticks out that bottom lip and it starts quivering. Dang teachers, why do they have to go and let the kids know they scheduled something fun?

But Kathryn, it's going to be so cold outside.
But I want to go.
But none of your friends are going to be there. (I totally lie to my kids. All the time.)
But I want to go.
But wouldn't you rather stay home and help Dad put lights in the yard?
You said it was going to be cold outside.
Hmm, she got me there.
But I really, really want to go.

Guilt set in, we were dressed, threw some snacks in a bag and we were out the door in ten minutes. Luckily everyone's noses were running so no one could smell the fact that I did not shower. Got there, hay ride, playground, Mom, ALL my friends are here, swinging some more, checking out trees, train ride, snack lunch. And since I was the only unprepared mom with neither hat or gloves for my child (what do you expect in 10 minutes) it was all riddled with MOM I AM SO COLD, CAN WE GO HOME NOW?

Which we couldn't because the stupid tractor had left us in the middle of a "forest" and I had no idea where our car was and I'm not so good with a compass.

So we both sucked it up and had a miserable great day and I only said "I told you so" 3 times and now at least I know that my kid could totally use some cold weather gear for Christmas. And maybe her mom too, or at least make it accessible. Because 51 degrees is so not fun.

Hey woman, could you take the damn picture, I'm freezing my booty off here!

It takes a lot to make me cry

I admit that I am not a sappy gal.

But lately, I've been wrestling with some feelings. You see, it's hitting me that my babies are growing up. And as I sat in the car pool line yesterday morning and watched Kathryn skip up to her preschool class, with her giant backpack on, and not turn around and wave goodbye, I teared up a bit. She's my last one. And next year, she'll be gone every day.

At my MOPS meeting today, there were babies. And babies, and more babies. The heart and the uterus started aching a little. Because I'm done. And I thought I was okay with being done, but lately it's been hitting me that maybe I'm not okay with it. My mom and I talked about it a bit and she was completely right when she told me no matter how many kids I have, when the baby goes, the baby goes, and it won't get any easier if I have another one because that one will too grow up and move on.

So I've been dealing with the realization that there will be no more babies for me. It's actually been a realization for a while seeing as someone had a little procedure a few years back. When I thought I was sure.

Kathryn and I went for our weekly lunch at Pei Wei, one of the many things I'm going to miss when she starts kindergarten. We were sitting there, laughing and talking, and playing war with the chopsticks and this song came on. This song, that I've only heard a couple of times, that makes me freaking lose it each and every its played:



As I sat there in the middle of lunch hour, tears rolling down my cheeks, patrons and employees looking curiously on, I grabbed my sweet girl and hugged her close to me and wished my other babies were there as well. And realized that I am not wanting another baby, I am wanting the babies I already have. And started thinking that I really need to dance, giggle, color, dress up, jump, swing, kiss, hug, snuggle, etc. a lot more. Before they're gone.

Bright Lights, Big City, Mapquest Directions

Let's face it, I need them. And as much as I think the state of North Carolina is beautiful, it sure could use some street lamps. I'm a big city girl. I like the hustle and the bustle. I'm a fan of the concrete jungle. Wide expanses of land and lots of trees scare me. I like knowing where I'm going and having it all lit up along the way.

We'll take for instance the other night. After a fun filled day of horsing around, we decided to end our evening with a visit to see the world famous Lipizzaner stallions. Don't know about them? Just imagine beautiful white horse doing ballet, they are quite amazing. So going on my mom's memory and vast knowledge of the North Carolina highway system, we set off.

Somewhere between here and there we saw a sign. We couldn't read the sign because at 6:30pm it was already pitch black. And there are no lights along any roads here. Had we been able to read the sign we would have made our exit. Instead I was pointing out the fact that all the millions of lights that we could see, in the sky, were stars, not airplanes. And the girls were in awe.

So we missed our exit. And we decided to pull into our friendly gas station and my mom ran in for directions. And there she met "Billy Bob" who instructed her to go out "that-a way (arms flailing wildly) and take a left at Stanley's Quick Mart. We headed in the direction in which we thought "Billy Bob" flailed the most and quickly realized he was drunk.

After miles of driving on the highway, because they was no turnaround, seeing how we seemed to be going parallel to the river, I finally pulled over and decided to punch in the Senator Bob Martin Eastern Agricultural Center into my fancy-schmancy GPS system. So fancy that it apparently recognizes nothing in North Carolina. Or just doesn't consider that place much of a point of interest. I bet it would have found us a Starbucks...

Eventually we found another gas station, received coherent directions, pulled in the parking lot, raced in minutes before the show started, went to buy tickets, and were stunned to see that no credit cards were accepted. Neither of us having cash or check and of course there being no ATM on site, it was back into the wilderness I went. After getting fabulous directions from the nicest Southern belle I ever did meet.

"Well hon, just go out on the highway there, and take the next exit and go left and you're going to pass a hitchin' post and then you'll see a place where they sell Christmas trees and there's a big blown up Santa there, and then of course you'll pass the Walmart and a Sonic and a fried chicken place and there's a credit union right there."

Translation: Exit 514, take a left, it's two miles down on the right.

I hightailed it out of there, leaving my mom and the girls in the heat because oh yeah, did I mention, it was FREEZING? I went to drive out and apparently crossed over the street, seeing as how it was only two lanes, two very small lanes. I turned around, once again, on some unlit street and headed towards the freeway. Took in all the sights along to way to the ATM, got some cash and was good to go. Pulling out of the bank, I decided I was not going to make the mistake of crossing over another street, so paid careful attention to turn into the second lane.

I was speeding cruising along back to the show and suddenly realized that those headlights were coming directly at me. Seems I had finally found a four-lane road in North Carolina and was driving on the wrong side of it. I said Oh, Golly Gee and calmly pulled over...

The hell I did, I screamed several profanities and hopped the median.

Finally back at the show, where the nice Southern belle had let my mom and the girls in with no tickets, I settled in with the fine folks of NC to take in the beauty of the Lipizzaner Stallions. And while my girls probably did not appreciate the skill it took to make these horses look so graceful and beautiful, my mom and I did. And it ended up being a very nice evening mostly in thanks to the snack bar that kept the young'uns supplied with pretzels and M & Ms.

When we left and I was able to hit the preprogrammed destination of Grandma's house on the GPS and the highlighted route appeared on the map, the evening just got better. And the friendly voice came on and gave me the best turn by turn directions of the night.

But you know, I never did see a Stanley's Quick Mart.

Well, I've got some to spare

My mom bought a horse. Which might not mean all that much to you, but to me, it means I've been bumped down the ladder of her favorite living creatures. I, who used to be first and foremost in her heart, keep getting trumped by animals. A few years ago, it was Dog. Now it's Sirus:

And oh yeah, Chico got thrown in the mix too. But we're not going to let her know that I really, really like Chico!

So we went out to the barn to see my mom's new favorite and do a little riding. The girls were super excited! Abby because that's her thing. Emma because she wants it to be her thing. And Kathryn because she thinks horses are just so cute.

Years ago, I used to ride. English, hunter/jumper. It was good fun. Years ago, I was fearless. I'd walk behind a horse no problem. Tack it up without thinking twice. Jump right on without a second thought. And now that I'm a mom, horses scare the be-jeebus out of me! Horses do, apparently thrill rides do not.

But it was perfectly fine with me that the little ones got led around the arena. And when Emma came to me so excited and asked if Grandma could trot her on a lead line, I reluctantly said okay.

They started slow:

And then picked up the pace:

And suddenly a trot turned into something a whole lot faster:

Did I mention that my child's feet were not in the stirrups. And that she was in an English saddle, which has no horn to hold on to for dear life? And that she wasn't wearing a helmet because, well because, that was just plain stupid on my part.

And my mom started yelling at her sweet, beloved horse to stop:

Commence major freakout on my part. But all I could do was watch and hope my poor baby didn't fall and break something. And when it was all said and done, (my interpretation) Grandma walked over to Emma and told her to smile and act like that was fun, so that I wouldn't kill her:

And Emma came running to me and let me know that she REALLY wants to take riding lessons now! Yay.

A few other pics of our otherwise anti climatic day at the stables. Even I got on the horse...

The Road Trip- By the Numbers

3100- dollars it would have cost to fly, which is why we chose to drive

+2600- miles driven

7- states travelled through

+/-40- hours in the car

32- Cracker Barrels between here and there, the cleanest bathrooms and a great bribery candy selection

36- state license plates we saw

1- high speed chase since I thought I saw Alaska, but we had to make sure it was Alaska, no matter that I was endangering my family to get that verification

2- nights spent in Atlanta taking in some sights and spending time with some good friends

5- awed faces when we saw trees with red and gold leaves, in H-town it's green or dead

9- officers seen hiding along the stretch from Mobile to Montgomery

1- herd of wayward goats on that same route, yes on the Interstate

0- pages of Marley and Me read, apparently I now get car sick :-(

6- only 6, movies watched, very impressive that they actually entertained themselves with gameboys and coloring and books instead

1- crazy, harebrained idea to drive straight through on the way home, 20 hours in the car, we're still recuperating

23- "are we there yet"s, but only on the way there, they knew how freakin' miserably long it was on the way home

2- yahoos on an Interstate overpass that caused me to slow down and ask "What are those freakazoids up to?" since I wasn't sure if there were throwing rocks or spitting or what. Turns out they were only raising their shirts. Somewhat anti climatic seeing as they were guys.

314- miles from home when all the girls freaking lost it!

312- miles from home when they got it all back together after threats that they would walk home from there

1- very happy family to have been able to spend time with loved ones, pictures and details soon

A Good NIght's Sleep

Is for me 100% completely unattainable.

Why I expected it to be any better on this trip is beyond me. We'll start with the night before we left. Nerves, I guess. My stomach was in knots and hurting rather badly. What to be nervous about? Well 20 hours in a car with 4 kids and hoping to not lose my cool or sanity along the way. So when Steven woke up at 4:30 to get ready to leave and I was already up, he knew we were in for a wonderful trip.

Saturday night we reached our checkpoint, Atlanta. After driving all day and having a great dinner with old friends, I was T I R E D. And the second I hit the pillow I was O U T. So far gone that when the hotel's fire alarm went off the first time, I slept right through it. The second time, I rolled over, opened one eye, and asked "is that an alarm?" I barely heard the manager on the intercom letting us know that the fire department was walking the building looking for a faulty smoke detector and to remain calm and stay in our rooms. No problem-o. And rather shocking that I didn't jump right up and scope out some men in uniform. And the remainder of the night I slept through the beep, beep, beeps. But woke up repeatedly whenever Emma decided to stick her foot in my nose, her leg on my hip, or her arm on my forehead. Sleeping with her is truly like sleeping with a monkey.

We stayed in Atlanta on Sunday as well, to take in some sights and have some more time with our friends. It was a great day. And my turn to sleep with Kathryn. Who is one of the main reasons I am up all the time. My favorite, usual 2am alarm clock. Night terrors. And it was pretty bad that night. But coupled with whatever she was freaking out about, she was talking in her sleep and crawling all around the bed. Emma had lost her monkey status.

And the other reason I am up at all hours, came into play last night.

We're at my mom's. And since my baby brother moved back in and took over what was the guest room, Steven and I am staying in the "study". Which has a daybed and a trundle. And also decorated with several Salvador Dali prints. Which is the main reason Kathryn is NOT staying in there. Could you imagine her night terrors waking up to that??

Since the daybed is bordered on three sides and my giant of a husband could only sleep in it if he remained in the fetal position, I took the high bed. Plus I didn't really relish the fact of him accidentally stepping on me in the middle of the night having to take a bathroom break. Not that he's that much better off. I've done nothing but eat since we left the house and am packing on the pounds! And we haven't even had the feast...

So I'm on the high bed, he's on the low bed and the distance between us is deep and wide. And my husband snores. Loudly. And a lot. And the majority of my evenings consist of calming Kathryn down and trying to get him to stop snoring. At night, I don't worry so much about Alli going off to college in a few years. Because then we can institute the whole separate bedroom phase of our marriage.

We had a sleep expert talk with our MOPS group the other day. And he mentioned a few fixes for snoring.

Elevated pillows... don't work
Sleeping on one's side... don't work
Breathe strips... don't work
Nasal spray... doesn't work
A gentle "honey, you're snoring"... works for about 3 seconds
a swift elbow to the ribs... most effective, but results wear off quickly

So to make a long story short, none of the above worked last night. And I couldn't reach him for the last few options. And everyone is irritated with me this morning because I am not in a good mood, I'm cranky, and bitchy and just not nice. Because I'm tired.

And on the way home, I think I'm booking a second hotel room all for myself.

Once Bitten

I think one of the reasons that I had kids at such a young age was because I wanted a valid excuse to go see Disney cartoons when they came out in theaters. You know, so I wouldn't look like the biggest dork ever just sitting there by myself. No matter that Alli was only a week old when I took her to see Pocahontas. She totally loved it ;-)

So now, tonight, it was great to have the girls with me when we went to see Twilight. And there was nothing better than seeing that movie with a few screaming adolescents! And of course with her and her!

I will be the first to say that I was afraid, very afraid that they were going to butcher this movie. Especially since the last few books-to-movies that I have seen have all been disappointing. And since I thought they had the casting all wrong from the get go. But, and now brace yourselves people, cause I never, ever say this, I was wrong! The movie was great! And that's all I'm gonna say about that because I'm not a critic and you should totally just go see it.

And Alli is still hyper-ventilating. And shaking. And saying We have to go back and see it again. She is crazy obsessed. But not as obsessed as the lady who took the life-size cardboard cutout of our favorite bloodsucker to the movies as her date. But of course we were crazy enough to chase her down for a photo op:




And yes, I did push Abby out of the way to get closer to him. Cause I'm the mom and I can do things like that. I totally play the birth card, every chance I get.

So can you guess what Alli is asking for from Santa ;-) Good, because he had no idea what to get her!

Next, it will be my credit card

Mom, can I please go outside and show everyone my new Slinky?

Not right now Kathryn. Maybe in a little bit.

PLEASE, I'll give you a million dollars!

Okay, pay me first.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out two quarters and a nickel.

Now can I go?

Umm, no, you still owe me $999,999.45.

She ran off and returned with another sixty-five cents.

Now, can I go?

You still owe me a LOT, hon!

She ran off again and returned with a handful of coins. Most being gold dollars. All totalling up to $6.75.

Now?

No, not yet.

I don't want to go anyway, I'll just keep the money.

Somehow, I'm thinking I got scammed here. Because her piggy bank seems to be holding a lot more coin than my boob fund jar!

Sometimes I just wish we could do the #2 fade

With the four girls, you can imagine that a simple little thing, like going to get haircuts is quite an ordeal. Finding the time to take them all is way too hard. Which usually leaves me going to the salon 4 times in a week. Well, that gets old, so last night I bit the bullet and loaded them up and we headed to the nearest establishment with scissors and Chi flat irons.

It only took 3 1/2 hours, my girls have a lot of hair, and needed a lot of work. Note to self, when only one stylist is working, come back another day. So needless to say, I wasn't ready to see the inside of a salon for a long while.

This morning while cleaning up all the scraps of paper that my sweet Kathryn just tosses on the laundry room floor next to the trash can while doing "art" projects, I picked up something else. Hair, hair, and more hair. I tracked her down and sure enough a big chunk was missing in the front. A very big chunk. A so very obvious, I can't believe I didn't beat you hard enough the last time you pulled this stunt, why did I waste 20 dollars last night, could you have at least waited til after we took our Christmas card photo chunk was missing.

I was back at the salon much quicker than anticipated. And she's grounded from scissors for life. And now rocking some face framing layers.

And someone else is missing some big chunks as well. Almost 6 inches worth. She saw the picture in the style book and there was no going back. Not even my tears and bribes of bubblegum and Webkinz could change her mind.




And the other two... well, Alli of course hates her cut. Because she's a teenager and they hate everything. Even though she still has freakin' movie star hair. And Abby is happy. She'd be happy with a mohawk. She's always happy. Because she's not a teenager. Yet.

And I'm thinking it's high time to start training myself on the damn Barbie head no one plays with anymore. Except I can't even cut paper straight...

I've only been waiting 24 years...

The tickets had been purchased 6 months ago and last night it was finally time for MADONNA!!

Don't laugh. Yes, I admit, I am a huge fan. And why wouldn't I be? I've only been dancing and singing her music since I was a wee little girl. Nothing like jumping on your bed at the age of 8 belting out Like A Virgin and having no idea what a virgin is... Hmm, kinda like a certain 6 year old of mine who likes to sing I Kissed A Girl.

You have to admire the way the lady has reinvented herself and her music over and over and over again. And we the public, keep buying it and buying it. In fact, I'm gonna bet the huge "M" stands for money!

Miss Thing kept us waiting two hours but when she finally appeared it was non-stop. She's so much tinier in real life...

Really, though, we had great seats, right in front of the Jumbotron so we got up close and personal with all her fabulous crotch shots. But she looked A-MAZ-ING! And I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she is 50! Seriously no amount of surgery exercise would possibly get my body looking like that!

I was so happy my Shana got to come down and sing and dance with me. And do lemon drop shots ;-) And laugh with me at the insane amount of bridal gowns and lace to be seen in the audience. And sequins. On men. And listen to me stress about the condition of the baseball field under the stage. And not freak out at my impatient driving skills in trying to exit the downtown area after the show. I can be quite scary.

And we met up with another HMIM at a bar beforehead, Andrea, my sista from another mista!

So great to see these gals and making me want another HMIM getaway real SOON!!

I would like to address the moron in the front row. Madonna personally asks you to choose any of her old songs for her to sing and the audience to follow along with and you pick... SECRET?Hello? Dude, Material Girl, Cherish, Express Yourself, LIKE A VIRGIN?? Seriously.

Best show I've ever been to. I feel sorry for Coldplay now on Tuesday night. Talk about a tough act to follow!