Yes, She Got Two Baby Dolls for Christmas, And She Loves Them Both

Boys and Their Toys

One of the Christmas toys Peter loves.

The one toy Cooper asked for.

Bryan's Favorite Gift This Christmas

One of My Favorite Christmas Gifts This Year

Ready For Her Close Up

Happy Christmas To All

And to all a good night!

Peter's Christmas List

Peter came home from school one day a few weeks ago with a letter to Santa. His class spent a surprising amount of time focusing on the Jolly Head Elf. In fact, Peter has been all about Santa this Christmas.

And that makes me sad.

Several months ago he brought up Christmas.

Peter: Mom, you know how Santa is just a game?

Me: Yes.

Peter: Well, I want to play the game.

That's straightforward, don't you think? He wants to play the Santa game. I smiled at him when he told me and said as long as we remember it's a game, then we can play.

I'm not sure he remembers.

I know his classmates have talked about Santa and what they're getting. When I went to Peter's class Christmas party most of the kids told me what they had asked for. Thanks to the list he brought home from school, I know what Peter wants too.

Can't read the list? Peter has decided he prefers artistically arranging the letters rather than legibly printing them. I'll translate. He wants:

• Hot Wheels tracks
• roller skates
• an iPad
• another Hot Wheels set
• a nicer little brother
• art supplies

I've struggled with the Santa game the past few days. Since we agreed to play, we have a present for each child from Santa. I've wrapped them in paper that I haven't used on anything else. They're hidden in a box in the office, waiting for Christmas Eve. And I feel sick about it. Peter might know, deep down, that we're pretending, but Cooper and Phoebe don't.

How can I teach my children that Christmas can be magical without Santa Claus? How can I play along without feeling like I'm lying to them? We play pretend all the time. Seriously, the majority of our time is spent jumping and running as animals or speeding down the track in a train or flying around the house as superheros. Why is this so different for me?

The Ghost of Christmas Presents

Did you know that Christmas is in four days? Really, it's only four days away. And since today is almost over we might as well say that Christmas is in three days. I shouldn't be so surprised, I've had a Christmas tree decorated and in my living room for almost a whole month. And yet, I'm still a little shocked that Christmas is this week.

I love wrapping presents and seeing them under the tree. But no wrapping has happened yet this year due to a sweet little girl who is fascinated by the crinkle of that pretty red and green paper. The UPS Santa Claus brought a package from Bryan's family yesterday. I took a chance and had Cooper put all the presents under the tree as I pulled them out of their boxes. Today Phoebe pulled several of them out, hugged them close, and cried out, "ME!" It was adorable, but I finally had to take the gifts away so they could stay wrapped until Christmas.

Inspired by the sight of the packages under the tree, I've decided it's time to wrap. Most of my time during the next few days will probably be spent keeping small hands away from presents, but that's okay. Maybe then the fast approaching Christmas will seem real.

And that brings me to this moment. Here I sit, on my red couch, staring down several Amazon boxes, ready to remember what exactly we've decided to surprise our children with on Sunday morning. Perhaps I should have started this process before 9:45 at night...

Mama's Girl

Phoebe has been waking up in the middle of the night for the last month or so. We're not sure what's causing her to wake, but she's pretty consistent about it. There have been a handful of nights that she's slept through, but sleeping has been the exception and not the rule.

She woke up tonight just as I was folding the last of the laundry. Her cry had moved from, "I woke up and I'm grumpy and disoriented" to "COME IN NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW." When she reaches that second level of intensity, she's not going back to sleep.

I picked her up, got her a drink of water, and snuggled with her for thirty minutes. When she was asleep I put her back into her bed. And she was awake again. I figured I'd done my part to help her get back to sleep. Now it was her turn.

Bryan heard her cries and, like a good dad, went to rescue his baby girl. He came out holding her and reported that she was thirsty. I bid them both a good night and said that I would come in once I was done writing this post.

As soon as Bryan turned to go back into the bedroom, Phoebe let out a heart-wrenching wail. Bryan comforted her as best he could. "I know. I know Phoebe. You love Mommy, don't you?" Phoebe nodded as she continued to sob.

In spite of the tears it generates, it's nice to be someone's favorite.

Seek

One Down

Bryan took his last final of the semester today.

Do you know what that means?

We made it through the dreaded first semester of the MBA program! We've been told it's the hardest and, based on Bryan's (and my) level of exhaustion, I hope they're right. I spent most of the last four months with my head down, pushing forward, going from one late night to the next. I'm kind of in shock that it's over.

I think I might need to sleep for the next week to recover. My family can finish all the Christmas preparations without me, right?

Play Along

During breakfast this morning I had to ask Cooper to stop using bathroom words. After my warning, the following interchange took place.

Cooper: Can somebody help me play poop?!

Me: (A look telling him his choice of words was not okay.)

Cooper: (under his breath) Can somebody help me play timeout?

She Gets Her Facial Expressions From Me

The Mama Elf

My hands have been busy the past several days.

Maybe after Christmas I'll show you why...

Stairwell Gallery

A few weeks into the school year I realized that paper was piling up on most of our flat surfaces. I didn't want to just stick it into a box, so I brainstormed about what I could do to display what the boys were working on.

This is my solution.

Peter's side.

Cooper's side.

A view from the top.

Our hallway gallery is made possible by two loooong pieces of ribbon, a handful of clear pushpins, and forty-four wooden clothes pins. It makes me smile every time I go up or down the stairs, which is several times a day.

The Key to Sanity

I got eight hours of sleep last night. Eight! That hasn't happened in ages. It's always my goal, but it's rarely achieved. Last night as I was tucking Peter in he said, "Mommy, I really need you to get enough sleep tonight."

I guess the kids can tell when I'm running low.

All day I've felt great. I've been calmer and dealt with back-talk and accidents with much more finesse.

And now I will end this post and go to sleep in an attempt to duplicate last night's success.

Good night!

Bard Games

I agreed to lead the MBASA Book Club discussion for the month of December. The meeting is next week, our book: The Winter's Tale by William Shakespeare. Given my fan-girl status when it comes to The Bard, I guess it's fitting that I lead the meeting. Actually, I think I got the job because when the name Shakespeare was mentioned I gasped with excitement the loudest.

My last year at BYU I was an Assistant Stage Manager for The Winter's Tale. I sat in at least half the rehearsals (there was another Assistant Stage Manager, but I seem to recall that I covered some of his rehearsals) and all the performances. It was wonderful.

As part of my preparation for next week I've been reading The Winter's Tale again. Peter has to read or be read to for twenty minutes each day for school and yesterday he got to hear twenty minutes of The Winter's Tale. Bryan helped me and found a free audio version of the play. I'm still going to finish reading it because my version has fantastic footnotes, but I've just listened to the first three Acts of the audio version. It's amazing how many lines I remember from so many years ago.

Have you read The Winter's Tale? It's one of Shakespeare's lesser known works. And I love it. Here's the link to the free audio book. The first scene is a little painful, but the acting improves quite a bit after that.

A Day In the Life

I just got back from an activity called "A Day in the Life of an MBA." The spouses and significant others of the MBA students were invited to hear two members of the faculty teach lectures that they teach to the MBAs. I heard an hour long lecture on accounting and then one of the same length on operations.

And it was awesome.

Seriously. It was really fun. I never thought I would say a lecture on accounting was fun, but it was. The professors were engaging and funny. They explained the material in a way that was, if not easy, at least manageable. Accounting still made my brain feel a little fuzzy, but I understood a lot better than I thought I would.

And the operations class was really enjoyable. I didn't look at the clock at all until we were almost done. From what the teacher said about operations I conclude that all moms are operations experts.

Bryan has said a few times that he thinks I should get an MBA. While I don't see that happening, it was a relief to be able to understand and participate in the discussions. It's nice to know that my brain hasn't turned to total mush.

The Call of the Theatre

Cooper was in his first play this afternoon. His Joy School class performed a very short nativity as part of their family Christmas party. Cooper played the shepherd. Do you see the sheep tucked under his arm?

We still need to talk about not turning your back to the audience, can you tell?

He did a great job following cues and hitting his marks.

The whole cast, including the sheep.

The Apple

I just got back from Writer's Group. I didn't write anything last month and I was nervous to jump back into it. Would you like to see what I wrote? Here it is, plus a few small edits the group suggested. I think it might be the beginning of something longer, but so far it's just a beginning.

The Apple

Round.

Red, pink, green-gold.

Sweet.

Sour.

Heavier than it looks.

The object that poisoned Snow White.

The item that led Newton to discover gravity.

The reason Adam and Eve were thrust from the garden.

Joanna opened her bag to eat. The day was warm and the view from her office window had been calling her name. Now she sat, breathing in the eucalyptus trees, rummaging through her bag that was too big to be called a purse, looking for her apple.

The morning had been rushed, not unlike most of her mornings. The alarm hadn’t gone off. Or, if it had, she had silenced it without being aware of doing so. The shower was cold, the toast was burnt, and the only seat left on the train was next to the woman who smelled of old cats and fresh Ben-Gay. At least she had grabbed an apple as she had run out the door.

Where was it? And why did she have a bag big enough to lose an apple in? She didn’t have the excuse of children to necessitate a bag large enough for a pack animal. Her fingers sent messages to her brain: keys, Kleenex, measuring tape, lipstick, wallet. The list of odd items grew. Finally, her hand rested on something round and firm. Out came the apple, shiny and green. Joanna gave it a cursory rub with the hem of her shirt to rid the fruit of possible ickiness. She brought it to her mouth and bit down. Her eyes squinted as she registered how tart the apple was. Tart, but satisfyingly juicy.

What was it people said about apples? An apple a day keeps the doctor away? Her mother would tell her to put down the apple, if that were true. Joanna had been told more times than she cared to remember that a doctor would make a good son-in-law. She had heard the same thing about lawyers, businessmen, engineers, teachers, construction workers, and waiters. She expected that her mother would next champion the cause of ditch diggers, explaining why wielding a shovel qualified one to be a good husband.

Who wanted to be married to a doctor? Joanna took another bite. Those long hours couldn't be conducive to a happy home. No, she preferred the apple to the doctor any day.

Support System

Peter and I sang at our ward Christmas party tonight. He sang with the Primary, I sang in a duet. I spent most of the morning preparing to sing. During lunch Peter asked me a question.

Peter: Are you nervous to stand up and sing in front of all those people?

Me: Yeah, but only a little. And it doesn't stop me from singing. Are you nervous about singing with the Primary tonight?

Peter: Yeah. (Pause) Mommy, if it would help we could come up and stand behind you while you sing.

Me: Is that so I would have fewer people to sing in front of? Or is it so I could be brave?

Peter: So you could be brave.

Noises Off

Peter wants his own room. Or, at least, he wants a different room. He's called me back into his room three times tonight, complaining about how loud Cooper is being and that he needs to go sleep in a different room.

Cooper is asleep and has been for almost two hours. The loud sounds he's making consist of breathing and the occasional cough. He did sneeze a few times, so maybe that's the problem.

Actually, I think the real dilemma for Peter is that he would rather be on the couch in the front room where I am instead of in his dark room. I told him to do his best, and no, he could not sleep in my room or the front room. My reason to him was that I was tired and needed to do a few things before I could go to sleep and I needed some quiet "mommy-time."

And now I'm feeling a pang of guilt.

He just wants to hang out with me, right? At least that's what he says. I think he really wants to watch TV and stay up late. Is it unreasonable of me to want a little quiet time during the day? While my children are awake there is constant noise in my house. Even quiet time in the middle of the day consists of Cooper reading to himself, describing the pictures as loud as he possibly can.

I'm loud too. And I talk a lot. A lot. I don't begrudge my children these inherited traits, I just need a little quiet time to recharge before we begin this whole dance again tomorrow.

I can hear Peter still. He's coughing quite forcefully. I don't know if he's asleep and coughing because it's that time of year and our house is dry, or if he's awake and coughing because he's trying to get my attention and I told him to stop yelling for me.

I hope he's asleep.