Herding singing cats--oops, I mean, kids...

There is nothing like watching 50 3- and 4-year-olds sing their hearts out. We adults are reserved and subtle in our singing most of the time, but not toddlers. These little stinkers gave it all they had...Jingle Bells, Feliz Navidad, Twinkle Twinkle complete with hand motions, intense facial expressions, and most of all, individual "character." It was hilarious. Every single child was doing something or saying something slightly different at all times--sort of like a giant toddler Cybil.

Take Landon. This mini-blue-tie wearing, adorable 3-year-old was seriously a caricature of himself--every jingle bell hand swing swung higher than the rest, every word was over-enunciated through his lips (I swear I saw his tonsils) for emphasis, and every "get loud, kids!" moment was just that much louder when it came from Landon. At one point the kids had to say the words "eat some turkey" to which Landon yelled, "I LOVE TURKEY!" Funny thing was that his dad was sitting right in front of me and could barely keep it together...he sort of waffled between covering his eyes and laughing, and throwing out a nervous "can you tell he's shy??"

Then there was poor Tyler. Normally an outgoing kid, this preschool holiday event was just too much for the little guy, so rather than sing, he proceeded to sit cross-armed on the end of a bleacher perfectly clad in his "reindeer jumper" (think: a toddler version of Colin Firth in Bridget Jones). He was like our little Xmas scrooge--not even a candy cane bribe worked with poor Tyler.

Then there was nameless wandering child. This crack-us-up kid decided midway through the program to get off the bleachers and walk to the middle of the stage and just stand there, smiling. He'd then wander around a little on stage, sing a line or two, then reappear mid-stage for the chorus. Gotta love it.

Finally, there were my two. Gotta admit, both looked darn cute in their matching red turtlenecks waving at mommy and smiling. Cole sang every word with gusto and full-body movements. Rhys sang most of the words, but seemed to forget he had hands for most of it. The best part, however, was about 5 minutes from the end when both boys decided they'd had enough and turned around on the bleacher and hung over it backwards. There were 48 kids singing and grinning from ear to ear, and my two MIA. We hear their teacher say "RHYS and COLE TURN AROUND!"...and of course, no reaction. Finally when they do sit up, it's with their backs to the crowd. I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

I can't believe those amazing teachers practiced with these munchkins for weeks--they're saints! I'd be willing to bet they're all drinking right now...Cheers!
M

RIP: The pre-kid, married-people bed

It is with much sadness (but much more laughter!) that I announce the passage of Mark and Melissa's four-poster, duvet-covered, thick-mattressed lovely respite. Their first-ever gorgeous, plush, non-hand-me-down bed has now joined the rest of the heavenly angel, once-saw-intimacy, twilight "homes" for smitten married people without children high up in the sky.

Mark and Melissa would like to welcome, however, their lovely respite's replacement--its ugly twin sister: the much-crunched-duvet-due-to-jumping, now-fits-four, land for "dark eyes," horizontal utility vehicle (HUV) with blue sheets.

Help us in fondly remembering its beautiful, once-crisp-and-lovely young twin today...Rest in Peace, oh sweet one.

I wish I could say that I was alone in losing "ownership" of my favorite place in the entire house, but in all honesty, this post was driven by a recent email from a friend of mine that just said it all.

Picture this: Being 8 months pregnant on semi-bed rest. Laying on the one thing that brings you peace and joy--and relaxation--and hearing this: "Toooot, tooooot!!!!! Chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga...tooot, tooot!! [CRASSSSHHHHHH.] Daddddyyyyy!!!" Need I say more? Yes, my poor friend's 2-year-old son had decided to use the perimeter of her bed as a train track for his wind-up-Thomas (full disclosure: we gave it to him...so sorry!). And as she put it: the train would go around and around until it took a wild turn and careened into one of the many things shoved under the bed...which then resulted in daddy (other former resident of lovely respite) coming into the room for a serious "Search and Rescue" mission.

Yep, sounds so familiar. Add to this picture two large, mouthy dogs who also reside in said bedroom at night and you've got our house.

As I lied in bed this morning and grinned from ear to ear that it was 7:30 and the boys were still sleeping, I lamented the days when we rolled over in quiet happiness after a long night of uninterrupted sleep. Then again, I can't help but laugh thinking about a story another friend shared with me the other day that proves our lovely respites are not necessarily "all that" even without kids...

Every time she and her husband retired to their king bed for intimate moments, their 8-pound pomeranian was kicked out of their bed. Needless to say, their then-child wasn't so thrilled with this and proceeded to poop in small piles all around the bed until they were "finished" and she was allowed back up on the bed.

Just imagine THAT experience...I think I'd pick the Thomas the Train search and rescue.

Will "peace and joy" please raise their hands??

We came back on Monday from a fantastic trip to visit some of our best friends and goddaughter in Kansas in a bit of a family-togetherness glow. You probably know what I'm talking about--the conversation on the way home that includes: "Our kids are so amazing," "Family time together is so terrific," "Who needs TV when you've got friends and family??" All of that great stuff. I found myself thinking about how work really gets in the way of life, how more time together would just be the best...etc.

And then it hit. Reality smacked me in the face. Yep, one morning later, while waking up with the lingering leftovers of our fantastic, relaxing Tday break, the day went from zero to 60 in about 2 minutes. Dogs barking, kids waking up needing a kleenex and "some orange medicine because their nose is stuffy," a sink full of dirty dishes...and the darn reality that none of my Christmas decorations were up yet! Where was my insta-mood changer when I needed it??

It may sound trivial, but I always put the decorations up the day after Thanksgiving. Why? Because the holidays are my absolute favorite time of the year. No day can go wrong if it starts with Andy Williams and ends with a dark house lit by Christmas lights. I want to soak in every moment. Especially this year, I want to watch as my little stinkers really get into the fun and true meaning of Christmas. (Translation: Spend an entire month watching Mark "teach" them about the special drink that Santa likes better than milk, but no one knows about except us--yes, Dr. Pepper is Santa's drink of choice. And his favorite food? Moon Pies, of course.)

So, there I was, longing for the holidays to have entered my home and nada--not a single thing to help me regain the peace and holiday "glee" that was our Tday break. Ugh. Fortunately, I can improvise, so the boys and I sang Christmas songs during breakfast--or, rather, we sang one verse of one song, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," because it's their favorite...and I could feel my mood lightening.

I smiled as Rhys and Cole sang the chorus over and over with their little dimples popping out at me..."You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not..." and then suddenly it must have hit them that they didn't know the word "pout"--in fact, they didn't buy that it was "pout" and decided it was worth fighting about. I made a pouty face to show them what it meant and Cole proceeded to tell me that no, it "WAS NOT POUT" and "THERE WAS NO WORD LIKE POUT."

Well, so much for peace, joy and holiday glee! I guess I had my moment. So, that's my goal for this holiday season: savor the moments. You definitely won't see me pouting...then again, the word doesn't exist, so how could you? ;)