Happy New Year!

January 2019.

Can I be trusted to blog every month this year? #goals

Random happenings from the Andrews this month include:

Ty returning a pair of shoes we bought him for Christmas to find a pair that he liked better.  These are more his jam.

We did not purchase these shoes, but did have a lot of fun with them in the store.

 

The boys found an open office in Chris' office and took it upon themselves to hire each other as the newest members of CSP.  They are the Amateur Assistant Managers (AAM) and have commandeered the office, office chairs, a phone and plenty of supplies.  Any spare moment they can be found begging to go to work -- they have things to do.  Thankfully, Chris has found them unnecessary but helpful tasks.

Iowa finally got its first snowfall this month.  I remember moving to Iowa the first time in the month of December and having snow fully on the ground until May (no exaggeration).  While it was nice to put off the time before snow this year, now that it's here I'm ready for it to go away.

We had a family sledding day where the boys could try out their snowboards.  It was a toss up between the boarding and the subsequent Caribou Coffee for best part of the day.

 

Brady is playing basketball.  I am a horrible picture-taker at basketball games, so here is a team picture after a tournament they won in Ft. Dodge (taken by another mother).  He is playing for a new team this year and absolutely loves this experience; he is having a blast.

Coincidentally, it was on the way home from the Ft. Dodge tournament that we surprised-but-they-had-already-seen-them the boys with cookies.

And, apparently the cookies had seen better days themselves.  #fail

This was one of those ideas that played out way better in my head than in life, but the cookies were to tell the boys...

we were going to the Chiefs/Patriots game at Arrowhead the next day.  What a blessing!  With Brady being the avid Patriots fan that he is, we have tried for years to figure out a way to take him to New England to watch a game before Tom Brady retires.  With that trip appearing to be next to impossible for us, we've looked for the last couple of years at going to Arrowhead when the Patriots come to town.  That quite hasn't worked out either.

So, when the opportunity arose to attend this game, we grabbed our layers and headed down.  Brady was cautiously ecstatic; he thought we were lying to him.  (Clearly we may have scarred him with something before, but I'm not sure.)  The closer we got to it becoming a reality, the more excited he became.

In all of our 1500 layers of clothes and blankets (which, after this here Polar Vortex we've got going on, the game temps seem rather balmy) we set out for a frigid night in KC.

We got to the parking lot almost 2 hours before kickoff, and, thanks to a snail's pace entrance process, missed all pregame and kickoff.  That was a bummer, but did not deter us from a fantastic evening. 

Our seats were great, and we did a rather nice job of not getting cold.  I stood the entire game (I wore too many pairs of pants to sit) and Ty couldn't raise his arms above his head (he wore too many jackets for such movement).

They boys were in awe of Arrowhead, the sheer number of people and the volume level of the fans.  We warned them it would be loud, they were certain they'd dealt with loud stadiums before, and then they decided Arrowhead was the loudest place they'd ever been.

We were all happy campers leaving the stadium for being able to have this experience, but we had one extra happy little fella.

In an effort to simplify and cut back in certain areas, we found and cracked into Ty's game of Mexican Train Dominos.  We haven't been able to play more than a few rounds at any given time, but what fun its been to plug in by unplugging.

If you count down three rows from the top or up two from the bottom, you'll find Ty's newest endeavor this year.  Show Choir.  At the strong insistence of the parents, Ty signed up for the group to have something extracurricular other than sports.  For the last few months he's gone early to school twice a week and even on a few Saturdays to learn and rehearse the material. 

Really, it's been more of a pain to drag him out of bed and out the door 20 minutes earlier than a bus day, but I'm happy he's getting a different experience.  He'll probably never tell you, but I think he's kind of enjoying it, too.

Besides the other basketball games, lessons and practices, this just about sums up our 2019.  Who knows what great things next month will have in store?!?!

The after Christmas

Part 3.  Bowl Game.  San Antonio, TX.

 

Flight leaves Ames December 25.  Not our preferred day to leave given our Christmas last year was spent away from home (no complaints about Hawaii, though).  We decide to go with it.  The boys are pumped.

 

Plan changes.  Flight leaves Ames December 23.  That's really pushing it for wanting to be home for Christmas.  Decide to opt out of this plan and make our own.

 

New plan.  Fly from Kansas City December 26.  Just Chris and I.  The boys are not pumped anymore.  It's ok, though; it'll be a good getaway.

 

We get to the airport in plenty of time, grab a bite to eat -- Hey, this is fun -- and board in our special early-class group.  We get messages and see notifications from others driving to San Antonio about torrential downpours plummeting the state of Texas.  Wow.  That would stink to drive through.  Thank goodness we're flying. 

And, thank goodness fly we did.  Or something like that.  Said rains caused issues with landing in Dallas which caused a triple loop around the airport which caused a redirection to Little Rock, AR.  Stay on.  Get off.  Better stay.  Must go.  Take your things.  Stay close.  Four hours in the tiny Little Rock airport.  That ran out of food.

 

One lost airplane found, and we reboarded.  If you could find your pass.  Unwritten etiquette commands taking the same seat.  Except ours had been reserved in the delay for unaccompanied minors that had to get to Dallas. 

 

No big deal.  Sit a row back.  Unknowingly cause a ruckus because the lady originally in 3B couldn't find her Russell Stovers bag of candy.  It was brand new.  I spent $7 on that bag.  Who would steal someone's Russell Stovers?  Have you seen my candy?  Is there candy in that seat?  Flight attendant, has anyone turned in a bag of Russell Stovers?  Get a life, lady.  Throw back her $7 bag of unopened Russell Stovers.  You took my candy.  Why would you take my candy?  Look lady, I didn't take your candy.  We're all sitting a row back.  I thought we were supposed to sit in the same seats.  Flag on her for lack of flexibility.

 

Arrive in Dallas, TX 1:00 a.m. Thursday.  Guess we're not going to make the Spurs game at 7:00 p.m. Wednesday.  Southwest emails us about cancelled, rebooked and cancelled again flights from Dallas to San Antonio.  No more flights out tonight.  This morning?  Whatever.  We have luggage that's checked through to San Antonio.  No worries.  We pick up our luggage at claim and cab to a nearby, frantically reserved hotel.  Cabbie drives through a closed-off flooded-out street (Wow, that water came up a little higher than I thought it would.  *hand slap forehead*) and we check in at 3:00 a.m.

 

Leave hotel at 6:00 a.m. Thankfully, Southwest rebooked us on a 9:35 a.m. flight from Dallas to San Antonio.  Recheck bags at the terminal and get new boarding passes.  Check in at the gate.  Wait in incredibly long line.  Get dinked around by the lady who can't find our reservation.  Oh wait, I found it.  You are flying out at 9:30 p.m. tonight for Kansas City.

 

Mamma mia. 

 

Stand in line for an hour + while lady cluelessly calls customer service.  There's no record of us.  Excuse me.  My bag is going to San Antonio at 9:35 A.M. and I need to go with it.  No seat for us on this flight we have reservations for.  Maybe we can get one of you to Houston.  The other could go later.  You could possibly meet up in Houston tonight and fly to San Antonio later.  Oh wait, those seats were just claimed.  It looks like one of you can go and the other can go to KC tonight at 9:30. 

 

Time out.

 

Flag on Southwest for being dumb.

 

Scratch entire plan.  Secure rental car.  Finally leave Dallas at 9:00 a.m.

Too tired to be grouchy about it.  All we can do is laugh.  And go along for the ride.  And drink coffee.  Because we never would have seen the Dallas Mavericks offices from the air.

Be thankful for what you were spared in the change of plans.  And recognize the blessings on your new adventure.  Hello, Waco. When else would you ever get to swing by the silos?

What were our #milestomagnolia?  After all, we circled Dallas three times and went to Little Rock.  We win. 

Arrive in San Antonio at 3:00 p.m.  Go to the airport.  Pick up luggage sitting out at the claim.  Easiest part of the trip.  Don't sleep.  Quick shower and check in for the Cyclones Radio Show. San Antonio is a blur.

We finally sleep.  A significantly long time.  Return car.  Walk to a local breakfast taco shop.  Oh my goodness.  Hey.  Let's Lime back.  We'll put all the money on one account and share that. to save money.  Lime rookie mistake.  Set up another account on second phone with more money.

Have a blast Liming.  Settle in to see the San Antonio night life.  Riverwalk was crowded.  Beautiful.  Festive.  Overflowing with Cyclones.

Carriage ride through San Antonio.  It was almost like the Plaza.  Except we didn't have coats.  Or snow.

 

Alamo.  Should have read up on that one.

In the haze of sleep depravity we made every second count.  Trip cut short didn't slow us down.  Miles walked.  Boat tours checked.  Guacamole indulged.  Chips dunked.  San Antonio happiness.

Great news.  I just saved hundreds of dollars on my car insurance.

Not so great news.  Crazy game.  Cyclones lost. 

Thankful for the opportunity to be here.  Dreading airport shenanigans ahead.  San Antonio to Dallas.  Dallas to Kansas City.  Easiest trip ever.  What a ride.

Merry Christmas 2018

Fa la la la.  After a much-anticipated, hyped and busy season, Christmas came--and then went in a flash.  Because of Bowl travel plans (that changed then changed again), we bumped up our celebrations a day, doing our traditional Christmas Eve on December 23.  We had a festive morning at church, followed by a day of  preparation, relaxation and celebration. 

Everyone pitched in to cook, set up and prepare for the day.  We pulled out all the stops on setting the table with our Christmas finest and dined on the traditional fillet (with Grandma Lolly's red sauce) and all the sides.

With our bellies full we gathered in the living room, and the boys could barely contain their excitement as they distributed each gift.  I smiled watching them go from gift to gift thinking that it was just yesterday that they would bring each gift to Chris or I to help them read the recipient's name before proudly taking it to the person.  The days are long but the years are short.  So true.

Chris does a wonderful job of taking the boys shopping so they can pick out the perfect gift for each person.  The best part for the boys is that they take their own money (that they've saved throughout the year) and with joy spend it on something they are certain the other person will love.  Every year they nail it.

This year Brady gifted me a gift card to my nail salon, certain I'd enjoy getting my nails done.  Know what?  He notices every time I do.

Ty asked for a very specific sweatshirt, one that matches his dad's. You see, he has watched his dad wear an oversized baseball/coaching sweatshirt since the last baseball season; and when it came time to dream up a Christmas list, that sweatshirt was at the top.  He wanted to be just like dad.  Shame on you, kid, for teasing him about a short-sleeved sweatshirt and making him come home questioning his choice.

Chris generally gives the boys reign over what to get the other person; after all, they know each other the best.  Although we weren't enthused with Brady's choice for Ty of a PS gift card, Ty thought he had won the lottery.

In the days leading up to Christmas Ty placed a notepad and pen on his door with explicit instructions to write our wish lists to him.  He didn't want the same generic lists we doled out to others, but wanted to know how he could gift us something extra special.  I gave him a few ideas, but without a doubt, the #1 wish for me was a date night with him--an uncompetitive, unplugged gift of time with Ty.  That's exactly what he did.  Love.

When I say the boys always know what to get the other, I mean they always knock it out of the park.  This year, however, Ty took a chance on Brady's gift.  We've hung out with another family of girls who know every word to Hamilton, and Brady has never been able to sing along given he's never seen the play or heard the music.  Cue Ty's gift so now Brady can be "in the know."

In a non-Christmas Christmas gift, if the boys in this house get a dog, mom gets diamonds...

When the kids are older and the plan is to be away from home for the next week, prepping for Santa is both slim picking and less of a priority.  In fact, we had to insist that the boys write notes of which they wrote more of a note of complaint than the warm fuzzy Dear Santa letters.  (One was upset that he hadn't received a laptop or $200 tennis shoes from his parents -- are you kidding me?!?! -- while they other implored Santa to show compassion to his dear brother.  What in the world??)

In fact, the grudge carried over to "Christmas morning" when it was discovered that the Big Man didn't leave those items either.  Truthfully, I wasn't feeling all that merry and bright either and would have much rather settled for returning every.single.thing from under the tree.  Because, you know, when desires turn into expectations and thankfulness turns into entitlement, I'm not for that.  So, we pulled the players in for a time out, gave some extra coaching and sent them back into the game.

With this Christmas Eve being our Christmas Day, we traveled down to Missouri where we could spend a couple of days with the Lipiras.  In this season I'm learning to let go of things by picking my battles based on what's truly important.  Most of the time I fail.  Miserably.  This time, though, I let go of insisting the boys wearing the "proper" attire I had packed them for Christmas and dealt with an unfestive gym-look.  While my insides were a knotted up ball of angst at my planning and preparation not going according to plan, my outsides just let it go because it was possible to have a good day regardless of our attire.

Remember that everything-Christmas-related party look I have going on all season every year?  There are four of us who do the same thing.  Although sometimes we do plan, a majority of the time it just happens.  That's what sparked the planning anyway; we live in different towns and would show up for the weekend with bags packed of the same clothes.

If only we could find a way for my dad and brother to join the fun.

And then there's Precious that's just too cute.  I'll let you decide which one.

When this guy shares a chair and puts his arm around you, you sit there for as long as he does even if you can't feel half your leg.

Because even in spite of the complaints and the expectations and the plans and the changes and the hustle and the bustle, there is one Reason for the season.  Three boys this year means three birthday cakes for Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Leading up to Christmas

As we begin the first of this three-part series from the Christmas season, you’re welcome for the divisions. Draft One was the whole kit-and-caboodle from Thanksgiving to Christmas in what developed into a short novel. Nobody’s gonna be reading that stuff...as if anybody’s gonna still be around to read the trilogy. 

 

November ended and December began with the annual Christmas Cookie Exchange clad in the Everything Christmas attire (no joke--for the last ?? years I've worn this outfit to every Christmas function -- don't judge).  I was honored to host friends both new and old as we sipped and snacked, thankful to have a night sans responsibilities to kick up our heels and let our hair down.

The group has grown mightily in the three years we've been here.  I love how the varying corners of our lives effortlessly show how intricately we are all woven together; no one is a stranger to the other.  We are all different, yet of the same.  Each person represents a piece of us--of our time, our stage, our passions, our involvements and our place in life.

And, just as the party was getting festive, this little thing pranced her way through the party (as an uninvited guest).  The three boys in this house decided Ruby needed her own proper holiday attire.  They surprised me.  I hate surprises.

It saddens me to think of the various events and parties at school.  Saddens because I find myself shying away from these happenings the more I've subbed, and also because this is the last class Christmas party for the Andrews.  I'm generally so ready to go on to whatever is next, I lose sight of what we're enjoying now.  Perhaps I can regain perspective and cherish the final few months of "elementary lasts."  That was the plan when I popped in to Brady's class party.  I don't even think he acknowledged my presence (which is fine), but what a joy it was to watch him meander around with his friends, plotting and laughing in giggly excitement.

In what I'm sure will be a recurring theme in this trilogy of catchup, sometimes things are just tough.  Schedules, circumstances, dynamics; it's all so tough.  We get caught in the web of busyness that compounds with exhaustion, and we find ourselves in a regular ole slump.  And then I reminisce of a time that was slower, simpler and, despite having its own challenges, easier, and I feel the need to do something drastic.

Like go to IHOP.

The allure of Grinch pancakes, Grinch hot chocolate and a Roast Beast omelet was too much.  We tapped into our inner hearts and... ”And what happened, then? Well, in Whoville they say – that the Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day. And then – the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Grinch found the strength of ten Grinches, plus two!”

Because sometimes you feel the need to do something drastic.

Like go to Pella, IA.  Such a cute little place.  It had Christmas lights and carriage rides and hot chocolate and cute shops, too!  It was like we used to do...fun things.  Although there may have been echoes of "stupid" and "boring" ringing in the air, we needed the day to just get away and be us.

And maybe it wasn't all that we hoped for in preparation, but still it was time together and memories in the maker.  And maybe a few years down the road we'll look back and say, "Remember that one year we went to Pella at Christmas?" and we'll smile big smiles of adoration.