Kissing "Normalcy" Goodbye

Alienated. That is the only word that I can come up with. It is the only word that describes the way I feel when I'm not surrounded by people like my family. It is how I feel when I'm in my hometown and almost every other town. It is a weird feeling to walk into the grocery store and be stared at by everyone else, because I have seven kids in tow. It is strange to pull into the pick up line at school and hear the principal call out,"Prescott Bus!" All of the other moms look as we drive by, no doubt wondering if I run a daycare. I've even had women ask me if I have any vacancies for their own kids. Sometimes I wonder if I've really turned a pea shade of green, by the way people study us when we are in public. I feel like they are waiting to see if another baby will shoot out from my loin at any given minute.

But when I'm here, amongst family (the other "crazy" people who enjoy having a large family,) I don't have to worry about being stared at, studied or made to feel like a freak. Here, they take pictures for the sake of memories, not to show other people for pure shock value. Their cars are all littered with toys, shoes and trash. Their homes are all tributes to their children, their families and their devotion to God. They have crayon on the walls, stains on the carpet and more fun than you could ever imagine. It is a comforting feeling to be with them. It makes me want to start a big family utopia.

Yes, that is exactly what this world needs. A place where big families can feel normal. A place that preserves the idea of procreation and the values of the traditional family. I'm not suggesting segregation, but a place of refuge that is adjoined to the already exsisting society. A sanctuary where big families can habitate or just visit without feeling judged for their number of members. Where they are not faced with a barrage of questions about their lack of birth control and serve as subjects of ridicule by a society that scoffs at people who have more than two children.

I'm not suggesting some separate creepy super breeder society. Just a place where parents of large families can seek out support, friendship and normalcy. It is no wonder that the Mormon church is so tightly knit. My Uncle and his whole family are Mormon, and it is no big deal to have a lot of kids. Everyone is supportive of it, and the ones who choose not to have a large crew, do not bad mouth the ones who do. I'm not saying that I am converting to Mormonism. I could never do that. I love coffee and wine far too much to ever be LDS. But I would like to see more kindness and support for large families, instead of it being limited to primarily the Mormon and Catholic communities. Heck, I'd even be satisfied if people would just keep their eyeballs in their heads and their rude comments to themselves.

Maybe we should implement something along the lines of the Castro district, in San Fransisco, except not with the whole gay thing. It would be called the "FastGrow" district. We could all hang flags outside our doors with a big uterus emblem on it. Every place of business would have drive through service. The stores will all have mega sized carts with four kiddie seats in each one. Each one will be equipped with with sippy cup holders and built it baby wipe dispensers. The streets will all be named after gynecological terms. Why? Because it will be much easier to give directions without misunderstanding street names. "Yes Barbara, to get to our house, you make a right at Embryo, a left at Ovulation and another left on to Placenta." You'll never have to repeat or spell another street name again, because everyone who lives there will surely know those terms like their own last names.

Yeah, I know...it's a far stretch. But one can wish, can't they? All I'm really saying, is that it is certainly nice to hang out with other large families and feel like I'm part of a common circle of humans, instead of feeling like I'm walking around with two heads in a strictly one headed world.

The only other time I ever feel normal in California, is when I talk to my mother in law. Which inspires me to also start up a retired parents of large families community, where mothers who have completely lost all long term memory and most of their sanity, due to high stress levels, can reminisce about their glory days as young and insane mommies of large broods. At least I'd have somewhere to go after I'm done raising my own brood and I need a place where someone understands my tendency to call my kids by each others' names and follow people around with a tissue saying, "Blow!"

But for now, and probably forever, since a utopian fertile myrtle society is an idea that will never come to fruition, it is just nice to not feel so freakish. The sad thing is, we are leaving tomorrow. (Sigh) I'll sure miss feeling normal.

Day One, The Fun Has Just Begun!

Here we are in beautiful Gilbert, Arizona, with the best family anyone could ever ask for! How many people do you know who would welcome nine extra people into their home right after recovering from Christmas chaos and right after returning from deployment in Afghanistan? Only my Aunt Danielle and Uncle Jim, that I know of!
Of course, they do have six kids and twenty one grand kids who are here all the time, so what's another nine? To them, it's just more fun to be had! Never mind the broken ornament, grafitti covered water cooler and lipstick mural that three of my kids have managed to create on the very first day of our stay. Those are just insignificant details to them. They are the rare breed that enjoy the company of family so much, that the ruins of toddlers are just a tiny side effect of having family over. While I wanted to die of embarrassment and beat the offending children, my Aunt and Uncle just laughed and told me to relax. They are truly the products of many years of raising a wild bunch. I remember the visits to their house, as kids, and all of the glorious mayhem that was our short stay and their daily normalcy!
Yesterday, my Uncle and cousins took the older boys out to shoot. You would have thought that someone had handed my boys a million dollars, by the looks on their faces! "Real guns?" Daniel jumped up and down, "Can we touch them?" When my family goes out shooting, they don't really mess around with small time artillery. They were packing an M4 (a gun used by the US military), AK47 (a weapon used by the Taliban), a 357 (a revolver), two shotguns, a few 22 rifles and some other assorted weaponry. Mind you, they were only shooting at targets, not anything alive. They also had to listen to Uncle Jim's gun safety lesson, before commencement. But that will surely be an experience that my boys will never forget. In fact, being here with them will be an experience that they will never forget, in itself.
I'm trying to convince Daniel to make our trip an annual tradition, as we did as children. They really need to get to know my side of the family as well as his. Our bloodlines may be different, but we are all fundamentally the same in our view of the family unit and the importance of being close. The Prescotts and the Cobbs know that family is the most precious gift a person receives in life, other than the grace of God, of course! We all joke around and pick on each other in the name of good clean fun, and we may have differing views on religion and other details, but the love and respect for each other is very evident. I love being here, watching my second generation of cousins while reminiscing with their parents and just being part of their inner circle again. So far, it is an experience that Daniel, the kids and I are enjoying and will miss come departure time.

Co-Captain's Log

3:15 pm: We are going after all! Dad’s eye is doing much better and we are on the road. First stop, the dog kennels to drop off Dakota. Marlie is having severe separation anxiety over leaving her at the kennel. The manager informs me that the rate is higher due to her lack of rabies shots…twenty dollars per day higher. I’ll not be mentioning that detail to Daniel. He might just feel inclined to put her out on the street. We have only been in the car for fifteen minutes and have already been through a whole pack of Ritz crackers, a box of juice and survived the first boredom inspired round of, “No, you shut up!”

3:40 pm: Oops! We forgot to leave crickets for the boys’ lizards. Off to the pet supply to pick some up. We drop them off and stop to fill up the gas tank. The tank is pumping at the speed of a handicapped 80 year old sloth. I’m not sure if we’ll ever leave this city, much less the state! What’s worse is that Marlie and Trenton are repeating the same chorus of Jingle Bell Rock, over and over again.

4:20 pm: We have stopped twice now, at Ella’s annoyingly shrill insistence, to let her poop in the port-a-potty. She has yet to produce any results and still she continues to request another stop every five minutes. Will her perseverance pay off? I sure as shit hope so.

4:30 pm: We have some tamales that the neighbor made, in case we need a little snack. The kids are complaining of hunger pain. I’m going to feed them, so I’ll be back… Okay everyone got a half of a tamale each. I had just taken the first bite of mine, when I realized that it still had the corn husk wrapped around it. As I removed the wrapper, the slippery devil escaped my grip and fell to the van floor. I have a feeling that this is going to be a very long trip. Also, I am still hungry. Are we there yet?

4:50 pm: I just gave Ella some Dr. Pepper. It went against my better judgment, but I really couldn’t hear my better judgment due to the high pitch screaming coming from her car seat. So I decided to go with the not so great judgment, and gave her a few sips. Was that a smart thing to do? Probably not, but I had to do something before my ears started to bleed.

5:15 pm: Ella has to poop… again. She promises, upon threat of death, to actually poop this time. We stop and allow her to download. It is a rancid deposit and stinks up the van something terrible. The kids are all grossing out from the malodorous aftermath, and I’m in complete agreement with them. It is nasty and I’m no longer hungry.

6:00 pm: The kids are bored out of their minds now, so we turn on a “My Little Pony” movie. I want to rip my own ears off because the kids in the back can’t see the screen, and the cries of protest are growing louder by the second. The boys finally sit up high enough to see the screen and realize that the movie is a giant musical number full of dancing pink ponies. They act as if someone is pouring acid into their eye sockets. I am seriously considering jumping out of the moving vehicle.

7:00 pm: The movie is over and the kids are starving. Some have to urinate. We stop at Jack In The Box. The boys all use the port-a-potty and leave the clean up to me. Hey, what do you know? They actually got some into the toilet bowl! I am basking in the glory of the moment as I carry the potty to empty it out, when I trip and spill pee all over me.

7:25 pm: It’s nothing short of a miracle! The kids have all fallen asleep. The van is dark and quiet. The absence of whining and bickering is lulling me into a state of sweet slumber. I’m going to take this opportunity to get a little rest.

9:00 pm: Well, that lasted longer than I expected! The rest was nice and now I am now feeling able to handle whatever else this trip hands me…as long as it doesn’t involve flat tires or puking.

10:00 pm: We are getting close. The bright lights of Phoenix are visible in the distance. I am excited to see my family! Even the now alert children and their constant barrage of pointless questions cannot ruin my merry mood.

10:30 pm: We have arrived alive and in somewhat good spirits. The van is totally thrashed. Reed has one sock on, one bare foot and a six pound soggy diaper. Ella’s hair looks like it belongs on Don King’s head. The boys all have dried drool crusted on their faces. But we are here and I will try to forget about these last several hours until we have to do it again on New Year’s Day, when we go back home. Trust me when I say, we will not be leaving without some heavy sedatives, duct tape and a rain poncho (in case I have to empty out the potty again.)

'Twas The Night Before Road Trip

‘Twas the night before road trip,
And all through the house
The rooms were all littered with
Every sock, shoe and blouse.

Suitcases were stuffed
‘Til they threatened to burst
Excitement was building.
This trip was our first.

Prescott children,
Too hyped up to sleep,
Gathered round in my bedroom
Like a herd of sheep.

“When are we leaving?”
One child asked with a whine.
“In the morning,” I answered,
“At a quarter to nine.”

After many stern warnings,
The kids stayed in bed
While Dad and I packed,
‘Til our eyes turned blood red.

“Don’t forget diapers,
And grab every toothbrush!”
Things are always forgotten
When packed in a rush.

Just eight hours left
And we’re almost all done.
Stage one is complete,
But we’ve only begun.

After hours of prep work,
We load up the van,
Collapse on the bed
And sleep all we can.

Soon morning dawns,
With a clear, winter sky.
But soon we all notice
Dad’s swollen, red eye!

“What the heck happened?”
He studies it intently.
Red, puffy and watering,
All bad signs, evidently.


Is it injured? Contagious?
“We must call the doc!”
“But we leave in three hours,
Look at the clock!”

“I’m not going anywhere,
Looking like this!
I’m a one eyed freak,”
Daniel says with a hiss.

Things look grim for our trip…
Delayed for bit.
The bags sit untouched,
As angry kids throw a fit.


Will plans be called off?
Or, will we still go?
Will Daniel get better?
As of now, I don’t know.

‘Twas the morning of road trip,
And the whole Prescott clan
Has to wait to find out
What becomes of our plan!

Our Christmas, Captured

Okay, here are the Christmas pictures that I promised. I may not be able to come up with accompanying witticisms, as I am pooped from our trip to Disneyland. BTW: do not ever go to Disneyland right before or right after Christmas, unless you like anxiety provoking crowds and waiting in two hour long lines for a five minute attraction. I learned this lesson the hard way. Anyway, we are off to Arizona tomorrow, so I'll be blogging from the road. Pray for our safety, but mostly our sanity as this eight hour road trip is a first for us. Now, on to the pictures:



5:30 am. The kids wait to see
if Santa really did put them
all on the naughty list.



Proof positive that Santa exists...
reindeer poop. What will my mom
think of next?



Aiden got his wish! Then his
wish broke after 5 minutes
of use.



Phillip got a cool Spider Man bike.
The glasses are fake, but not the
eyebrows. Maybe Santa should have
brought him some tweezers.


Now this is a GREAT gift. A
device that keeps an older
brother from pummeling his
siblings on a long road trip.
Santa's a freakin genius!!


"Hey! I wanted a real pony.
I'm a one year old...not an
idiot."



Ella got twin babies. She named
them "Ella Bella" and
"Ella Bella II"


I hope that whatever this blue
blob is, it wasn't made in China.



Uhhhh, honey? I think that
Optimus Prime toy was for
Phillip.


Trenton is rockin' out in true
bare chested, gold chained
rock star fashion!



I don't mind that my house looked like a hurricane had hit it. (top)
But my mom obviously doesn't feel the same about hers.
Even the DISPOSABLE cups were washed and in the dish rack.


The Prescott house was bursting with the usual merry mayhem. 80+ family members
gathered together for food, fun and Christmas carols! It was as crowded as Disneyland,
but with people that I love, as opposed to rude foreigners... so not too anxiety provoking!!


We ended Christmas day with lots of
Christmas carols, lead by the voices
and guitar talent of our brother in laws.
It's awesome to have such talented family members!


And so we bid farewell to another Christmas day, carrying with us the fond memories and tons of now broken, overpriced presents that are still crammed under the van seats. I hope you all had as wonderful a holiday as we did!

The fun has just begun!

No time for long drawn out posts today. Hope your holiday was wonderful! Mine sure was. But it's not quite over yet. Today is clean up day (I've got a crap load of pics to share w/ you all!) Tomorrow we will be braving the crowds at Disneyland with my Dad and sister. Then we pack and head out to Arizona on Friday morning. I'm giddy with anticipation at the thought of a six hour road trip...not. But we were smart and bought the three oldest kids portable cd players for the trip. It just might stave off a few rounds of Daniel's favorite road trip game "Never Leave Your Ribs Open!"
I do have some news to share, though. My husband bought me a Christmas gift this year. It is the first one he has ever gotten me. Usually, our money goes towards the kids only, out of sheer necessity. But this year he shocked the you-know-what outta me, and surprised me with...
a LAP TOP COMPUTER! I am now a mobile blogger! I can write about our adventures as they happen! I will be coming to you from the many pit stops along the road, the few restaurants we dare go into and our final destination...my family's home! We will be staying with my aunt and uncle, who have six kids, over twenty grand kids and a new great grand baby. It's gonna be crazy fun!
Now, I'm off to tackle the mountain of toys that need batteries, the mountain of laundry that needs washing and the mountain of dirt that has collected over the past few days! I'll be back tonight to post some mementos of our Christmas chaos, and I'll be doing it lap top style!

HELP!

Dear God,

I know that your Son's birthday is rapidly approaching and you are probably getting last minute celebration errands done, but can I just have a second of your time? What am I saying? Of course I can! After all, you are the ultimate multitasker! I'm sure you're overseeing party plans, granting your childrens' prayer requests and making a giant birthday cake, all at once. If you were a mom, you'd make me green with envy!

I honestly don't know how you handle having so many kids and being able to make them all feel loved. I've heard rumors that your palace is gleaming white and nobody ever goes hungry! My kids are running amok through my nasty, filth encrusted house, eating See's Candy for breakfast and battling to the death. I've threatened them so many times with a phone call to Santa, that its effectiveness has worn off. I am five seconds away from beating them all with the empty box of candy and locking them outside in the 30 degree weather, so I can get some stuff done.

I have only a few hours before I have to leave to pick up my earthly father at the airport. I desperately need a shower, as I think the gross odor I'm smelling is me, and not the dog. I forgot to leave the key for the cleaning lady, and my house needs to get cleaned this morning, as I have family get togethers to host all weekend, and I'm sure that my guests will not appreciate their shoes getting stuck to the marshmallow covered floor. My van is busting at the seams with trash, half eaten Christmas goodies and dirty clothes, and badly needs to be decluttered before I can shove all of the kids in it, today.

God, if you could do me the favor of granting me the strength, patience and the superhuman speed needed to get through this day, I would sure be grateful. I'm really trying to make your Son's birthday a memorable one in our family, but so far, most of the memories we've made have been of my being a frantic, frazzled mother who endlessly makes empty threats and tries to restore some kind of order to our mayhem plagued household. I know that this season is not intended to be a stressful, anger inducing celebration. I really would like to change the course that our day has already taken, but I need your help. I am only one human mom, and I know when I have met my ultimate demise. Today just might be that day, if I hadn't called on you.

Thanks for taking the time to listen, and thanks in advance for your help. Keep your ear close, as I will probably be calling on you several times today, for moments of strength and sanity. I'll see you tonight for our usual end of the day chat.

Love,

Kadi

Survivor: SAHM edition

WHEW! I am one tired little lady. Today threw me some curve balls, but I still swung at 'em anyway.
I'm too tired to do an all out post, so here are the random thoughts that are floating around in my brain, amongst the lingering echos of Kindergarteners' demands for assistance:

• Thank God for my adaptive nature, or else I might have been down right pissed when Stater Bros. had no record of the turkey I ordered for Marlie's class feast last week. I found some cooked turkey breasts under a heat lamp in the deli section, and decided that it was better than nothing. Later, when I tasted the leftovers, I realized that nothing might have actually been better (yeah, it was that bad.)
• I forgot to leave my house key for the cleaning lady I hired, and I badly needed her help, as I neglected my house work all week. Which means that I will be my own cleaning lady tomorrow morning. Not a good thing, since all of the kids will be home!
• The Simpson's movie is not a kid movie. I say this because I let my kids start to watch it, foolishly not checking the back of it for a rating (What an idiot I am.) Five minutes into the movie, I realized what a bad choice of movie it was. Their new favorite word is now "penis." It could be worse. At least it is a biologically correct term. But I just prefer them to call each other "wiener head" like they usually do. "Penis head" just sounds more crass. Did I really just say that?
• Making a gingerbread house is more fun to watch, than it is to execute. I watched my friend, Corinne make one with the kids today. It was hilarious to observe. I don't get to be the observer very often, so it was nice. I'll post photos later.
• I'm worn out and the holiday rush has not even started yet. I'd better get my sorry keyster to bed now.

Thirteen Thankful Thoughts

Thursday is here! The last day of personal freedom before my monsters are out for holiday break! I have two batches of mashed potatoes to make, twenty rice krispie treats to whip up, one giant turkey to pick up, four class parties to attend (w/ my toddlers in tow,) and an overabundance of "woman cramps" to deal with. But rather than focus on the negative, I'm going to do my Thursday Thirteen list about 13 things I am feeling thankful for:

1. I have two legs. If this seems like an obvious and stupid observation, read this.
2. My kids are not in the hospital. My friend, Shannon's new baby "Briley" is in the hospital with RSV and pneumonia. Please pray for them today.
3. My house is filthy. It is filthy because I have been spending some fun holiday time with my kids, which I get to do because I'm blessed enough to be able to stay home with them.
4. My husband is keeping a secret from me. It is the first big secret he's ever taunted me with. I'm so excited because it is the first time he's ever planned a Christmas surprise for me. It makes me feel so appreciated!
5. My Dad is arriving tomorrow! I get a whole week with him. It is the most time I've spent with him in many years, which is best Christmas gift I've ever gotten.
6. My monthly visitor is here, which means that I am not pregnant. I don't know when I've been able to avoid pregnancy during Christmas, since getting married. My body is thanking me.
7. It's COLD outside! But the sky is blue, the mountains are gorgeously capped with snow and I can wear a sweater.
8. Corinne is coming over today! I haven't had a friend over in too too long, and I miss them all dearly!
9. I have half of my presents wrapped. That is way more than I usually have done. Most years, I wrap everything on Christmas Eve, and end up tired and grouchy. Not this year!
10. My grandparents will be here on Sunday. I do not see them much anymore because we live too far. I love their visits!
11. I really wanted to give my mom a better gift this year, to show how much I love her. Then I realized that a gift doesn't say "I love you." I do. I love you, Mom!
12. I'm still wearing my robe and blogging, when I know I should be making class party food. I care not.
13. Christmas is only 5 days away! I look forward to all of the chaos, yummy food, great company and joy that comes with being around family (all 77 of them!). I am so blessed to have so many family members to love!
    

Pie Is Yummy! (Just not humble flavored)

Do ever get caught wallowing in self pity? I do, but not by humans. It is usually God who finds me curled up in a corner, tears and snot running down my face, blubbering about how hard I have it. Today, God pulled me out of my corner and gave me the "You think you have it bad?" speech. No, not an audible speech. I'm not a good enough Christian to get one of those. It was more of a bitch slap, which I needed.
I was getting out of the van at the local gas station, and thanking God for allowing me to make it to the station before running completely out and having to hoof it. As I opened my van door, the chilly wind whipped it back towards me, gouging my shin. I quickly forgot my gratitude and replaced it with a whole slew of curses. "Mom, you said the "D" wood!" Aiden preached with his little speech impediment. "Who cares!" I snapped back at him. I got out of the van, remembering that I had yet to change out of my pajamas. Luckily they were only sweats, but they were pretty grungy.
Pulling the gas nozzle from the pump, I silently wished that I hadn't been so lazy this morning and actually gotten dressed. My shin was throbbing and I was trying to urge the unresponsive gas pump to hurry the hell up so I could slink back into my van before anyone saw me. Too late! A mini van pulled up in front of me. I was preparing myself to feel embarrassed at my appearance, as the driver was a decent looking mom type, who would certainly take one look at me and wonder what could be the cause of my gross lack of fashion sense and personal hygiene.
My mouth almost fell open as she exited her own vehicle. She was wearing overalls, with one leg pinned up behind her. She was missing her right leg, but didn't even look around to see if anyone was staring at her. She went about her business, unaware of the enormous piece of humble pie that I was choking on over at my own pump. Had she noticed, she probably would have hobbled over and offered to help me.
"Hey you self pitying sorry excuse for a human," I scolded myself, "tuck your tail between your pajama covered legs (the TWO you have) and get in your van." I spent the whole ride home praying for forgiveness for being so ungrateful and allowing myself to think that I have it bad when my shin hurts and I'm wearing jammies. I didn't even put a band aid on because I wanted to feel the sting of my tiny wound, just to remind me that I had a leg there.

Proof Positive

After this morning's ranting about the sick, materialistic nature of our gift giving traditions, I decided to prove my point. My theory about the children's natural connection between the Christmas season and receiving presents, is that all of them automatically associate the two. But I needed a way to test my theory. I did what any therapist would do and gave them all a word association activity. First, I devised a list of words. Then I called each child into an isolated room and drilled them all. Here are my findings.The original word is in red, answers in white are given in this order: Marlie, Daniel, Trenton, Phillip

Holiday: Tree, Present, Christmas, (blank stare)

List: Toys, Naughty, Toys, Buy

Christmas: Present, Present, Present, Present,

Peace: Quiet, Quiet, Cake, Quiet

Baby Jesus: Holy, Born, Christmas, Naked

We can learn a couple of things from my research:

1. I should have been more specific as to what kind of "Peace" I was referring to.
2. My kids will never know peace, as they will never know what quiet sounds like!
3. I have to wonder why Daniel would say "naughty" and still have presents as two of his responses. Maybe I have not made the meaning of being on Santa's naughty list clear enough to him.
4. Phillip doesn't know what a holiday is.
5. My theory was correct...much to my chagrin.

Merry Giftmas?

This morning's blogging began with an answer post on The Fertile Farmer. A frustrated mom had emailed me with a very common complaint of greedy children, and the need to know if she was alone in her quest to undo the tight grip of Christmas commercialism. As I formulated my answer, I realized how utterly sick the whole concept of gift giving has become in our own family. As much as I love the Christmas season, our gift giving has become so far removed from its original meaning, that I feel a deep sense of shame for having gotten so lost in Consumer-ville. Allow me to break down our gift giving traditions:

1. We start off the season by having the kids make lists of what they want. Excuse me? Now I'm taking orders from kids who cannot bring themselves to perform a few simple chores, at our request?


2.. The school gift fair opens. Each of our kids gets 10 dollars (of our money) to spend on family members of their choosing. Whatever gifts survive the day without being thieved by other students (that was actually a problem this year at school,) may possibly make it to the wrapping and exchanging stage. Oh wait...never mind, the kids already exchanged them on the way home from school because they just couldn't wait. Now they will whine because they have nothing to exchange with their siblings, on Christmas morning.

3.I shop, and shop, and shop. I try to make everything even. I pay way too much for shipping. I spend hours and hours wrapping at my mom's house so the kids do not see their gifts. Why? They know what they are getting...remember? They made lists!! I spend an ungodly amount on things that will surely be broken a week after Christmas, because if I don't, I will feel like a bad mom.

4. My husband adds up the total shopping bill. He passes out cold. I try to justify all of my purchases. I try to appease him with the fact that I bought him some stuff too. He tells me that he doesn't want anything. I feel defeated.

5. Christmas Eve: opening and eating at my mom's house. Christmas morning: opening more presents and getting ready for The Prescott Christmas Extravaganza. Christmas day arrives. Nobody can even walk in my in laws' living room because it is PACKED w/ gifts. (I'm taking pictures this year to prove it!!) The day is spent opening and eating delicious food and doing more opening. The majority of this day is spent opening gifts. Do we sing carols? No. Do we read any scripture? No. Do we go to church? Nope. No time. Too much opening to do. Do you see the sickness of it all?

6. I look around at all of the presents that are tightly packed into our 15 passenger van. Boxes are shoved in every nook and cranny. The kids do not have room for their feet to dangle. Daniel cannot even see out the back window. I am sickened by the fact that no matter how much stuff we buy, it will always end in the same way: Crying kids on the way home from Grandma's. Why? Some how, the fifty gifts that they've received are just not enough to stave off the "That's It?" mentality. In fact, the more they get, the worse it is.

7. I swear to myself that next year, things will be different. I make a vow to get back to basics, to bow out of obligatory exchanges and gift buying, to try and instill the true meaning of Christmas in my children. But as I vow these things, I realize that I myself have lost sight of the true meaning. I might as well start writing "Merry Giftmas" on our Christmas greetings. Oh wait...I don't even send out Christmas cards. (sigh) Next year, things will be very different.

*Take a peek at what's under the tree over at Humor-Blogs! It's one of the only free gifts I'll be giving this year!

Why I'm A Crappy Friend

There are two kinds of friends, in life. I have a large network of friends, and they all fall into two categories. There are the friends that are great for a laugh and a coffee date, once in a while. They make me smile and are fun to talk with. We usually have the same interests, raising snot nosed children and sharing funny husband stories. I enjoy emailing them and getting occasional phone calls. I hold these friends dear because they provide me with the stress relief I badly need, and I try to reciprocate.


Then there are the kind friends who are just down right invaluable. They are the friends that I can count on for more than just a laugh. They are the ones who I know I can call and cry to because their shoulders are always at the ready. I can share my most private thoughts with them, and I feel secure in the knowledge that those thoughts will stay just with them. No matter how long it has been since we've talked last, I know that I still hold the same place in their hearts as they do mine. They are the ones that help me through hard times and celebrate with me in joyous times.


There are days like today that I feel an utmost appreciation for the second type of friend. For example,I have a full plate of "to do" items on Thursday. I know that even the most driven, coordinated woman cannot clean such a full plate by herself. I've considered my options, and realized in the end, that I needed help. So I called Corinne. What have I done for her lately that would make her want to take the time to help me? Nothing at all. In fact, we haven't even talked much lately due to our hectic schedules. I am pretty sure that I am not a nominee for the good friend award, judging by my recent drop in my regular friendship maintenance. To put it bluntly, I've been a sucky friend.


Never the less, Corinne didn't even flinch before agreeing to help me out. I'm sure that there are a hundred other things that she could be accomplishing, with Christmas fast approaching. I'm sure that she's not crazy about the thought of getting up at the crack of dawn to drive an hour away. I'm pretty sure that she's not loving the fact that I sprung this on her at the last minute. Did she show any sign of displeasure or hesitation at my request? None what so ever. She will be here Thursday morning to accompany the toddlers and I to the grocery store and every class party we have that day. She will be helping to make Phillip's Kindergarten Christmas party possible. I say 'possible' because his class just got their second long term sub in a month. Nobody had planned anything festive for his class. Without Corinne, the room mom and I, there would be very little merriment in his classroom at all. That's just not acceptable in my book!


Corinne is a much needed reminder to us all, (especially me, who only seems to call in my hour of need,) that having best friends is the result of being a best friend. It is clear to me that I need to start being a true best friend, and not just the fair weather/I need a favor, kind. So a huge "Thank you!" goes out to Corinne for saving my rear end, and being the kind of friend that, sadly, I am not. You're an angel, and you serve as an example of what best friends are really about.

Yep, I'm A Multitasker!

According to today's poll, everyone wanted to see me drink myself into a coma before Wednesday rolls around. Although that is how I used to deal with stress, pre-baby days, it is no longer a great idea. I do have to get up with all of them the next morning. So, while I did indulge in a glass of wine as we finished making cookies, I tried to take it easy. However, the poll did show me one very important thing. The fact that my readers are bad influences!!

I did a lot of relaxing today. Then, when the kids got home, we made cookies. I decided to photo blog it. It wasn't pretty. Word of advice to mothers who are teetering on the verge of insanity this week, do not bake cookies with your kids unless you have some help, a crap load of patience, or a lot of wine!

Me: "Okay kids, it's time to bake gingerbread cookies!"

Daniel Jr: "We're gonna do what? Are you serious?

This cannot end well."



Ella sees her window of opportunity and decides

to paint it with a purple glue stick.


She quickly learns that she who maketh the

mess, cleaneth it up!

Where are all the other kids? Good question.

Probably setting fire to something. But I

cannot stop now. My cookies are gonna be

perfect, dammit!


Aiden is just testing them to make sure they

aren't poisonous.