guess who's no longer 32?

You.

Happy Birthday Nate. Because the boy decided to be sick on your birthday, I plan to share mine with you in a few weeks. Can't wait. I love you, Nate. Everyday.

let the indoctrination begin.

One of the best things about having kids is that you get to share all of the goofy things you love with tiny people who will probably love what you love because they love you.

"Mommy, are they mermaids?"

"They're princesses!"

"Get up, they're dancing again!"

the weary world rejoices.

Tonight we braved the elements to celebrate Christmas Eve Eve with our church family. These are the people that we choose raise our children with. My closest friends. The people that I call when I'm at the end of my rope.

I watched little girls in velvet dresses sing. I cracked up while Caleb sat up on his daddy's shoulders, plugging his ears while pipers played. I watched my Clairegirl eye a long table full of treats.

We were all up past our bedtimes. The kids ran wild. One child in the ergo, and one in my arms. Still we sang. "A thrill of hope. A weary world rejoices." Perfect words for exhausted mommies and daddies. Perfect.

sugar.

Me: Clairegirl, smile for the camera and I'll give you a candycane.
Claire: Okay! *giant smile*

Claire: Mom, what's a candycane?

Today we're making these to take to our church's Christmas Eve Eve celebration tomorrow night. Wish me luck, candymaking is hard with a little person who wants to do "all the sings (things)."

santa: not a fan.

Apparently, Mister Baby feels about Santa the way the girlie feels about tulips.

Seriously, Mom?

Um, is there an infant sign for get me off of this bearded stranger right now, lady?

I like how even Santa looks annoyed in the last shot.

merry & bright: a holiday savings guide.

1. Purchase festive Christmas leaderhead at 75% off at the end of the holiday season, 2008. Store for safe keeping.

2. Write Christmas letter.

3. Tear up contents of one 2400 square foot house (basement included) searching for festive Christmas letterhead.

4. Purchase new festive Christmas letterhead at full price because you can't find the discount package.

5. Print Christmas letter on full price letterhead.

6. This, of course, is the ideal point for your husband to point out an obvious type-o.

7. Purchase second package of festive Christmas letterhead.

8. Eat a few (thousand) Christmas cookies (bless you Jenn K and your crack cookies).

9. Repeat step 5.

v-bac to this again.

"Mommy, did I come out of your private area?" She asked, casually.

For me this will never be a casual question. And I have resolved to never lie to her. This is what I said:

No, Clairegirl. You came out of my tummy.

"But Everett came out of your private area..." She wondered aloud.

And you, sweetgirl, came out of my tummy. I told her about how we'd hoped she'd come on Easter. How I had a sweet little pink dress just in case. I told her about walking at the park with The Dada, and all of the things we tried to get her to come out. I told her about how she just wouldn't budge. Then I told her about the meconium. She wanted to hear that part again and again.

"Were my toenails brown when I came out too?" She asked.

Nope. Just your fingernails.

"Tell me the part about the poop again, Mommy."

So I did. And I told her about how long it took to get her out and that the midwife was starting to worry about her because of the poop. I told her that we decided together that the most important thing was that she would be born safe. I told her that we only cared about meeting her. I told her that they gave me good medicine so that it wouldn't hurt when they cut into my stomach. She seemed concerned for a moment then. She asked questions about how they got her out. I explained the cutting. I told her she could see the scar.

"You mean in a picture, Mommy?"

No honey, on my tummy. There's a line where you were cut out of me.

"Oh."

And Clairegirl, you were the most beautiful baby I had ever seen. We only cared about seeing you born safe. Three years later, I can say that and mean it. As frustrating as that day was, I have no regrets. That is the magic of this girl.

never a dull moment.

Recently, I went to a friend's house to decorate Christmas cookies. Claire threw a gigantic fit. She threw herself on the floor and sobbed, "I need ladytime. I am a lady!" I wiped her tears and told her, "You need to help dad make cookies tonight, he doesn't know how to do them."

She was off and running, "Alright, Dad. I'll show you how to do all the things."

I came home to some suspicious looking cookies and photos of the girlie.

advent at our house.

I like to do these easy advent envelopes with the kids every year. Last year, Claire called them endebopes.

Before you get too impressed, know that inside each envelope includes really simple things that we were going to do anyway. Things like Let's go cut down our Christmas Tree or Today we'll make gingerbread people.

Some even say really complicated things like, Let's sing Jingle Bells! or Let's watch a movie in our cozies.

It will be tougher to pull these off when she's able to read the contents of each envelope herself. I'm hoping I have at least one more year of creative license when it comes to the contents.

what the what?

N: Kar, who's my favorite character on Sesame Street?
K: Murray.
N: Yeah, Murray. He's a badass.
K: Thanks for writing my blog post for tomorrow, Nate.

and then we got a tree.

I love all of the traditions around Christmas. I love that we go to the same spot every year to cut down our tree. I love that he is old enough this year to play in the mud.

We were planning on getting a small tree this year, for fear that the Mister would destroy it, but we let Claire choose and she found a perfect tall tree for our living room.



This is the face she made after saying, "I was thinking we could get another little tree for my bedroom."