I also bought 50 pounds of oatmeal. That'll take a few months.
I'm scared to know what our food consumption will be in a few more years.
Early yesterday morning, before anyone had emerged from bedrooms, there was a crash.
The tree that had been standing tall for over a week fell over. No one was in the room, it had never threatened tipping before, but there we were, drenched gifts and broken ornaments strewn across the living room.
I headed for the kitchen to make Blaine’s gift. Without a clue what else to get for him, I decided to try my hand at the very Dutch pastry banket, or butter letter. Not being a stitch Dutch myself, I had yet to try making it, but my completely-Dutch husband grew up with it, loves it, and has hinted many times that I ought to make him some. After a thorough search of my city’s grocery stores, I found one that carries almond paste, and we were in business.
The filling melted out of the dough EVERYWHERE. Every single one I made leaked. My dear husband assures me this is relatively normal, but after the tree, an imperfect gift for my husband was not what I’d hoped for. Frustrating. From his consumption of his gift, I’m thinking Blaine’s less than bothered.
While the butter letter baked, I had one of my girls mix up the pumpkin pie. The oven sat hot and empty for over an hour before I found the pumpkin pie batter in the mixing bowl, pie crusts sitting empty, oven sitting empty. There went my target time for dinner. We didn’t eat anything beyond fruit for the first time yesterday until 1:15 pm. It wasn’t the meal I’d planned. Our big meal was supposed to be a late lunch. It was supper. We didn’t open gifts until 3:00.
We ended up eating three hours after I’d planned. Charlotte dropped and broke her brand new ornament. Several of the dolls made by dear friends for my girls took a bath in Christmas tree water. Pierce peed on his new truck. Ruby decided to take the paints out of her new paint by number and Pierce opened the lavender and painted the floor, Ruby’s new skirt, the couch, and the paint by number package. I found out said paint washes off of wood floors and leather couches and skirts well when wet. Charlotte’s new sock has a small seam in a place where a seam ought not be from the scissors she used to open the package. The Christmas tree was down and out of the house before supper when it threatened to fall again after we cleaned it all up and straightened it once. The kids loved their Lincoln Logs, played heartily, picked them up and filled an entire five gallon bucket with them before bed, and Pierce helped them out by dumping them with a crash during devotions.
Sitting back last night, exhausted by the day and reminiscing on years past, I couldn’t help but think. Things were not like this growing up for me. It was just my sister and I, life was organized and quiet. Traditions were upheld. Yelling over the noise never happened. I remember exactly zero toppled Christmas trees. We took the tree down when we wanted to, not when it forced us to. We always opened gifts in the morning. The living room didn’t look like a hurricane had hit after gifts were opened.
Was that better? What am I complaining about? It was less stressful, to be sure. Things were more organized. There wasn’t chaos. It was quiet.
My kids weren’t complaining. My husband wasn’t complaining. It was me. It was my picture of the ideal way to celebrate Christmas that was being skewed.
Jesus was born in a barn, my friends. He left a perfect world to become man, to dwell among us, to save us from our sins. He humbled himself from God to baby. A not-talking, not-walking, helpless infant laid in a hard, stinky, dirty manger, a baby sent to save. And I’m complaining that there’s chaos in my house, that things aren’t happening when I wanted them to, how I wanted them – on a day that we celebrate Him.
Humbling.
Blaine’s been off from work this week. We didn’t take a vacation this year, so he was left with time off that had to be taken before the end of the year. Darn it anyway… it’s been awesome to have him home. I’ve decided he should work from home. Of course, I’m not sure how much work he’d be able to get done with no enclosed office and six children who seek him out on a constant basis, but… it’d be fun for me!
With him off, I’ve gotten a bit of Christmas shopping done. Some of it’s been fun, but most of it’s been frustrating. Somewhere along the line, we hit the point where they have need for little, space for none, and nothing in my budget seems like it’ll make it to the new year. Eden and Pierce were the easiest, and I have Blaine’s statement that he’ll take care of Sterling’s gifts, but the other three girls have me stumped. I have a few things for them, but nothing that thrills me overly much. Frustrating.
My house is being taken over by winter clothes. Towels spread with mittens, hats, and scarves to dry, times six (if they put them away as they dry…) makes for a big mess. Coats that don’t get hung back up, eight pairs of boots in front of the door… I’m starting to think I’ve been spoiled with this non-wintery state in which we live. I couldn’t handle this mess long term. We’ve upped sizes in puddle boots to make space for extra socks, nearly left a hat on the grocery store shelf, and, miraculously, not lost a mitten yet. I’ve been accused of not liking the snow because I’ve only ventured out to play in it one time in the last week. I have to admit, it’s prettier from the window. It’s hard enough to move this bulky body even remotely gracefully without walking through a foot of snow. Something about a coat that won’t quite button in single digit overnight to 20’s during the day doesn’t quite scream warm.
I got a Kindle Fire! I can’t stand it I’m so excited. I need to get faster at the one finger typing, though, or blog posts suffer. I found a grocery list app and another app for a calendar… trying to make it less toy and more tool. So far, the kids have watched from afar – except for Pierce, who doesn’t fear Momma’s wrath nearly as much as he ought and wants to try this screen swiping business out for himself. I’ve wished for one for over a year now, and am having so much fun with it.
I’ve begun my third trimester. Baby kicks often, but goes crazy when I eat something with sugar. I’m pretty sure I’m waddling when I walk, have nearly outgrown my winter coat, and can’t wait to see who this baby will be. Names have yet to be discussed, I waffle on whether I’m guessing boy or girl, and Pierce loves to lay on my belly and get kicked.
Liberty decided to use the snow to “cook” up something. Here’s her recipe:
1/2 tsp lime juice
1/2 tsp lemon juice
1 tsp water
2 T sugar
2 cups snow
food coloring (optional)
Mix together: lime juice, lemon juice, water, sugar, and snow. Add drops of food coloring according to the food coloring box. Stir it up. Add a straw and spoon and ENJOY! :)
Momma’s note: something tells me, from the amount of sour and sweet going on, her estimates of lime and lemon juices and sugar were a little low. Or a lotta low. Or, if you ask Pierce, not even on the chart low. He couldn’t get enough. Judging from the amount of lime juice left in the fridge… it was closer to 1/2 a cup per serving. The first batch contained a ridiculous amount of real vanilla as well. I found myself explaining the benefits and drawbacks of vanilla with citrus… all agreed it was better omitted. My vanilla stash and frugal side appreciated their omission.
I made three batches of soap yesterday. My house smells like a lovely citrus/clean cotton/Barber Shoppe combo. It’s interesting. Christmas, it would seem, is the best time for soap sales. I’ve sold 2-3 times as much as I did last year, and I’m scrambling to make more. Fun times.
Charlotte swallowed a penny. She’s my first to try this tactic – some of the others put coins in their mouths, but none of them were chewing gum at the same time and somehow swallowed both down. Her biggest concern: the coin came from the school money we use during math and she can’t put it back, so she stole it. Love that girl; she has a conscience that won’t let her get away with anything. Anyone have experience with this? What next?
We ended up with about six inches of snow. The kids are having a blast. Sterling remains king of the cold; he’ll stay out there for hours, loving it. Pierce wants to be out there but spends most of the day going in and out, not handling the 20 degree temps so well.
Pierce is trying to talk like crazy. Now if I could just understand him. He gets so frustrated when he has to say things three times before I get it.
Some Guy’s Rooster isn’t thrilled with our snow. Neither is Brady. Wimpy animals don’t know how good they have it.
Liberty asked if we could just lay three twin mattresses, side by side, in the bedroom and get rid of all the beds. She thinks each set of buddies could sleep on one mattress, they could stack up the mattresses during the day, the bedroom would stay cleaner and she’d never have to clean out from underneath beds again. Um… no.
It’s snowing. For the first time this season, the weather is in the 20’s and it’s snowing enough to stick. Slightly. Ruby went out to help her older siblings gather kindling this morning before the snow (might, just maybe, if she’s lucky) covered up the ground, but she was so top heavy she was fearful she might go headfirst when she bent to retrieve sticks from the ground.
I, of course, laughed and took a photo before I sent her on her way.
Just for the record, this climate is nothing like I grew up in. They have –30 degree wind chill temps.
We were at the zoo yesterday. In t-shirts. It was 62 degrees.
The kids are hoping it snows enough to sled in. This whole southern living business is pretty odd, I tell you!
Mom and Dad are gone. It’s the moment I dread from the moment I know they are coming. We hadn’t seen them since June, and now Thanksgiving is over and my house is quiet again – and the mess that it is is all from us and my not having really cleaned in four days. Hello, Laundry.
We took photos this morning, after ignoring cameras for the entire visit. Good grief. Everyone scrambled to get dressed before Grandpa and Grandma left. It would appear that stripes are the choice for shirt of the day.
Today, we’re back to school. Blaine’s back to work. I’m three loads of laundry deep and have four more left. Supper tonight: Turkey Pot Pie. It’s 56 degrees outside and as soon as the babies wake up from naps, we’re headed outside to play for a bit. This somber mood is killing me.