Over the holidays, I baked quite a bit. I baked cookies, bread, pies, cheesecake, and a few other things. I enjoy cooking and baking, so I always tend to go overboard during the holidays. Plus, I get a larger than normal sweet tooth during pregnancy. It's a great excuse!
With all the sugar being poured, I'm quite conscious of how much I let the kids have. Sawyer practically gets nothing. I just don't see the need except if it's a special occasion. I've become a little more lax with Jackson and Cullen, but it is definitely far from a free-for-all in my house. My kids are already active enough without sugar. There is no need to torture myself by getting them all hyped up and having to deal with that particular fall out.
The boys had gotten into the habit of having a cookie after dinner if they finished it all. Yes, one cookie. Aren't I generous?! With the holidays wrapping up, Andrew and I decided Jackson and Cullen needed to be broken of the habit of having a cookie every night after dinner. Good parents that we are, we just started flat out denying them sweets.
One night after dinner, Jackson and Cullen were being very persistent about getting their cookie. I told them no at least three times, as did Andrew.
Cullen decided to take it upon himself to go into the pantry and get himself out a cookie. He really wanted that cookie. Jackson, being a typical big brother, didn't actually touch anything but was within inches of Cullen at all times and was telling him what to do.
"No cookies," Andrew stated for what felt like the dozenth time.
"Yes!" exclaimed Cullen while trying to pry open an almost empty pack of Oreos.
Then it happened. I witnessed it from the other side of the breakfast counter. Andrew took the last three or four cookies out of the Oreo packet and shoved them in his mouth. Then slammed the empty Oreo packet into the trashcan.
"See! Now, there are no more cookies. I ate them all, " Andrew said around munching on the cookies.
I couldn't help it. I started laughing and had to walk away. The look of utter devastation on both kids faces was horrifyingly priceless.
But hey, they've stopped asking for a cookie after dinner time.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Saturday, January 4, 2014
O Unholy Night
It's been awhile since I've been able to write anything down. The holidays descended upon us as did grief, stress, frustration, family, and some fun. Not in any particular order.
The wrapping was done, but the presents were spread out all over the dining room table because a certain 13 month old, Sawyer, would have ripped open everything had they been left under the tree. I was waiting on Andrew's last Christmas gift to arrive and was really worried it wouldn't get here on time. It was supposed to be delivered the 19th, but got delayed when the ice storm hit Dallas. I was one of the lucky ones whose package arrived on the 23rd. Go me for having the foresight to buy all my gifts early in December!
Our family decided to attend the 4pm Christmas Eve Mass. I am not the kind of person who gets to church an hour early to reserve a seat in the church. I just don't see the point. I arrive 15-20 minutes early and just go sit in the Parish Hall. Andrew, the kids, my brother, Matt, and I pick out premium back row seats in the Parish Hall where one of us can escape with a child if necessary. You can never be too cautious sometimes. As we are waiting for Mass to start, the kids are really good. Jackson and Cullen are sitting quietly looking at a few books or asking questions. About 10 minutes into Mass, all hell breaks loose. Sawyer is now a full time walker, doesn't want to be held anymore, and just wants to walk around. Cullen is playing musical chairs because he can't figure out who he wants to sit by while asking a zillion questions or stating obvious facts. Jackson meanwhile is making Sawyer laugh and has ants in his pants. Plus, Jackson feels the need to tell me about a dozen times that it's Jesus's birthday tomorrow. Normally, I have no problem with him telling me this but it gets really old after three days of the same thing. All three of us are juggling a kid. About half way through Mass, I lean over to Jackson and say, "I'm going to call Santa and he will give you nothing but rocks and coal if you aren't quiet and behave!" The look of absolute horror on his face was one not to forget, but he at least calmed down to a manageable level. I was desperate! After Mass, we headed home in completely silence since the kids knew they were in trouble for misbehaving at church.
Once home, I make our annual Christmas Eve dinner of Shrimp and Grits. It's not hard or time consuming, but I do have to pan fry the bacon in order to cook the shrimp in the bacon grease. Once dinner is on the table, Cullen refuses to eat it. Yes, he has had it before and likes it. He has some kind of monumental breakdown induced by the fact he had no nap. In the end (and it was a long way to the end), I ended up giving him the delightful dinner of chicken nuggets and corn. And he ate it all by himself in isolation.
Before bed time, Jackson and Cullen put out cookies and milk for Santa. Both boys helped me bake peanut butter cookies with Hershey Kisses on top that morning, so Santa enjoyed freshly baked cookies. The boys sprinkled reindeer food out in the lawn. I read them The Night Before Christmas book which I found out was my brother's and mine from when we were kids. It had 'Read along with the cassette tape' in the front; dead giveaway it was far from new. The boys crawled into bed, and the lights were out.
At long last, the house was quiet. We moved all the presents under the Christmas tree. Andrew popped in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and Andrew and Matt drank homemade egg nog. I obviously couldn't have any, so I had a cup of hot chocolate.
It was an early night since Santa had to come, and the boys would get up early.
Christmas morning wasn't too bad. Jackson slept in 'til 7am, and Cullen woke up at 7:30. That's sleeping in in our family. I got up and started breakfast while Andrew entertained the boys with their presents Santa left. We eventually opened presents after coffee was poured. Don't ask us to function without coffee. It was so much easier and faster this year with Jackson and Cullen being able to open all the presents by themselves. Sawyer had a ball ripping wrapping paper and playing in boxes.
With all the unholiness our family amassed in church the night before, Christmas ended up pretty low key and nice.
I can say I am glad the holidays are over. I'm ready to get everyone back into our regular routine. And I'm ready for preschool to start again, so I can have a small break from the kiddos.
The wrapping was done, but the presents were spread out all over the dining room table because a certain 13 month old, Sawyer, would have ripped open everything had they been left under the tree. I was waiting on Andrew's last Christmas gift to arrive and was really worried it wouldn't get here on time. It was supposed to be delivered the 19th, but got delayed when the ice storm hit Dallas. I was one of the lucky ones whose package arrived on the 23rd. Go me for having the foresight to buy all my gifts early in December!
Our family decided to attend the 4pm Christmas Eve Mass. I am not the kind of person who gets to church an hour early to reserve a seat in the church. I just don't see the point. I arrive 15-20 minutes early and just go sit in the Parish Hall. Andrew, the kids, my brother, Matt, and I pick out premium back row seats in the Parish Hall where one of us can escape with a child if necessary. You can never be too cautious sometimes. As we are waiting for Mass to start, the kids are really good. Jackson and Cullen are sitting quietly looking at a few books or asking questions. About 10 minutes into Mass, all hell breaks loose. Sawyer is now a full time walker, doesn't want to be held anymore, and just wants to walk around. Cullen is playing musical chairs because he can't figure out who he wants to sit by while asking a zillion questions or stating obvious facts. Jackson meanwhile is making Sawyer laugh and has ants in his pants. Plus, Jackson feels the need to tell me about a dozen times that it's Jesus's birthday tomorrow. Normally, I have no problem with him telling me this but it gets really old after three days of the same thing. All three of us are juggling a kid. About half way through Mass, I lean over to Jackson and say, "I'm going to call Santa and he will give you nothing but rocks and coal if you aren't quiet and behave!" The look of absolute horror on his face was one not to forget, but he at least calmed down to a manageable level. I was desperate! After Mass, we headed home in completely silence since the kids knew they were in trouble for misbehaving at church.
Once home, I make our annual Christmas Eve dinner of Shrimp and Grits. It's not hard or time consuming, but I do have to pan fry the bacon in order to cook the shrimp in the bacon grease. Once dinner is on the table, Cullen refuses to eat it. Yes, he has had it before and likes it. He has some kind of monumental breakdown induced by the fact he had no nap. In the end (and it was a long way to the end), I ended up giving him the delightful dinner of chicken nuggets and corn. And he ate it all by himself in isolation.
Before bed time, Jackson and Cullen put out cookies and milk for Santa. Both boys helped me bake peanut butter cookies with Hershey Kisses on top that morning, so Santa enjoyed freshly baked cookies. The boys sprinkled reindeer food out in the lawn. I read them The Night Before Christmas book which I found out was my brother's and mine from when we were kids. It had 'Read along with the cassette tape' in the front; dead giveaway it was far from new. The boys crawled into bed, and the lights were out.
At long last, the house was quiet. We moved all the presents under the Christmas tree. Andrew popped in National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, and Andrew and Matt drank homemade egg nog. I obviously couldn't have any, so I had a cup of hot chocolate.
It was an early night since Santa had to come, and the boys would get up early.
Christmas morning wasn't too bad. Jackson slept in 'til 7am, and Cullen woke up at 7:30. That's sleeping in in our family. I got up and started breakfast while Andrew entertained the boys with their presents Santa left. We eventually opened presents after coffee was poured. Don't ask us to function without coffee. It was so much easier and faster this year with Jackson and Cullen being able to open all the presents by themselves. Sawyer had a ball ripping wrapping paper and playing in boxes.
With all the unholiness our family amassed in church the night before, Christmas ended up pretty low key and nice.
I can say I am glad the holidays are over. I'm ready to get everyone back into our regular routine. And I'm ready for preschool to start again, so I can have a small break from the kiddos.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Christmas Card 2013
Merry Christmas Eve! Here is our Christmas card for this year.
Merry Christmas from our family to yours!
Merry Christmas from our family to yours!
Friday, December 13, 2013
Christmas Shopping
It's almost done. Every year, I dread Christmas shopping. I always feel I never know what to get family, friends or even my own children. Thank goodness my brother and I are old enough to just ask what each other wants and get it. It makes things so much easier.
Andrew and I felt we went a little overboard last year with our own kids, so we decided to dial it down a notch. We don't want those bratty kids who think they are entitled to everything on their wish list. Although getting a wish list out of my kids is cumbersome since they change their minds every 5 minutes. Jackson is the only one who is getting a little better about it, but he's only 4. In the next few years, I'll probably wishing this was the case instead of them wanting every electronic gadget under the sun.
We have approached gift giving with the philosophy of something you want, something you need, something to wear, and something to read. And of course, Santa will bring an extra gift or two. With the change in philosophy, it's almost done. Yea!
I just need to wrap (ugh!) and decide what to get Andrew (double ugh!).
In the Christmas spirit, we participated in the kids' preschool's Angel Tree again this year. We bought a gift for an underprivileged child and brought it to school. Trying to explain to my kids what we were doing was difficult. They're not quite old enough to understand the full meaning of the Christmas spirit, so I'm starting young. Jackson is old enough to start understanding it, but I feel like I'm jamming it down his throat. Gift giving is more important than receiving. You need to be grateful for what you have and not always expect or demand things.
I'm trying. It may be fruitless, but in another year or two, he'll start to grasp it. That's what I keep telling myself in the mean time. I'm planting the seeds to his understanding so he'll be a giving, selfless child/adult and not a little brat. It's my mantra, and I'm sticking to it.
Andrew and I felt we went a little overboard last year with our own kids, so we decided to dial it down a notch. We don't want those bratty kids who think they are entitled to everything on their wish list. Although getting a wish list out of my kids is cumbersome since they change their minds every 5 minutes. Jackson is the only one who is getting a little better about it, but he's only 4. In the next few years, I'll probably wishing this was the case instead of them wanting every electronic gadget under the sun.
We have approached gift giving with the philosophy of something you want, something you need, something to wear, and something to read. And of course, Santa will bring an extra gift or two. With the change in philosophy, it's almost done. Yea!
I just need to wrap (ugh!) and decide what to get Andrew (double ugh!).
In the Christmas spirit, we participated in the kids' preschool's Angel Tree again this year. We bought a gift for an underprivileged child and brought it to school. Trying to explain to my kids what we were doing was difficult. They're not quite old enough to understand the full meaning of the Christmas spirit, so I'm starting young. Jackson is old enough to start understanding it, but I feel like I'm jamming it down his throat. Gift giving is more important than receiving. You need to be grateful for what you have and not always expect or demand things.
I'm trying. It may be fruitless, but in another year or two, he'll start to grasp it. That's what I keep telling myself in the mean time. I'm planting the seeds to his understanding so he'll be a giving, selfless child/adult and not a little brat. It's my mantra, and I'm sticking to it.
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
The Nail Polish Incident
It had been a relatively quiet Friday night. I should have known something was going to go wrong. The house was just too quiet. It seemed everyone was content or had fallen asleep early.
Until Cullen walked into the living room terribly upset yelling for Mommy, it took a downhill turn.
I glance over to see what could be wrong this time. Did his finger get pinched? Did he walk into a wall and hit his head? Did his brother take a toy away from him? He's three so everything is the end of the world.
All I see is red. Red all over his fingers, his cast, and a lot of it running down his pants. Add on the fact he is crying, and I am immediately start looking for the gash or cut all this blood is coming from. That is until I kneel down beside him to pick him up and smell the distinct whiff of nail polish. Any women knows that particular smell quite well. There is no mistaking that scent.
I immediately went from concerned for the well being of my child to pissed off Momma ready to smack down my the offender of the heinous incident. It's quite shocking this complete transition took about 0.3 seconds.
I yell for Andrew who was standing in the kitchen. He comes running over concerned about the amount of 'blood' all over our son until I stand up, pass his son off to him, and say, "It's nail polish."
Running to the only place this could have happened, I find my OPI I'm Not Really A Waitress red nail polish all over the floor and inside the cabinet of my bathroom. I'm running around grabbing cleaning supplies and paper towels to clean as much of this mess up as possibly before it starts to dry.
Andrew eventually wanders back into the bathroom to see how he can help with the little offender in tow. Andrew starts taking off Cullen's pants that are soaked from crotch to knee on both of his legs and trying to clean it up. I just look up and say, "The pants are ruined. That will never come out." And ladies, we all know how true that statement is.
Luckily, I was able to get the nail polish cleaned off the floor without any residue. Cullen on the other hand, now has nail polish permanently on his cast until it comes off, along with some of the crevices of his finger nails. I just couldn't get all of his off with my nail polish remover.
I have no idea what came over my boy to have him go back into our bathroom, into my cabinets, into my nail polish Rubbermaid box, get the red nail polish out, and open it. Was he trying to paint his nails? Was he just trying to paint? No clue. I'm just happy the entire bottle didn't spill and nothing besides his jeans were permanently ruined. At least I'll have this story to tell him when he gets older.
Until Cullen walked into the living room terribly upset yelling for Mommy, it took a downhill turn.
I glance over to see what could be wrong this time. Did his finger get pinched? Did he walk into a wall and hit his head? Did his brother take a toy away from him? He's three so everything is the end of the world.
All I see is red. Red all over his fingers, his cast, and a lot of it running down his pants. Add on the fact he is crying, and I am immediately start looking for the gash or cut all this blood is coming from. That is until I kneel down beside him to pick him up and smell the distinct whiff of nail polish. Any women knows that particular smell quite well. There is no mistaking that scent.
I immediately went from concerned for the well being of my child to pissed off Momma ready to smack down my the offender of the heinous incident. It's quite shocking this complete transition took about 0.3 seconds.
I yell for Andrew who was standing in the kitchen. He comes running over concerned about the amount of 'blood' all over our son until I stand up, pass his son off to him, and say, "It's nail polish."
Running to the only place this could have happened, I find my OPI I'm Not Really A Waitress red nail polish all over the floor and inside the cabinet of my bathroom. I'm running around grabbing cleaning supplies and paper towels to clean as much of this mess up as possibly before it starts to dry.
Andrew eventually wanders back into the bathroom to see how he can help with the little offender in tow. Andrew starts taking off Cullen's pants that are soaked from crotch to knee on both of his legs and trying to clean it up. I just look up and say, "The pants are ruined. That will never come out." And ladies, we all know how true that statement is.
Luckily, I was able to get the nail polish cleaned off the floor without any residue. Cullen on the other hand, now has nail polish permanently on his cast until it comes off, along with some of the crevices of his finger nails. I just couldn't get all of his off with my nail polish remover.
I have no idea what came over my boy to have him go back into our bathroom, into my cabinets, into my nail polish Rubbermaid box, get the red nail polish out, and open it. Was he trying to paint his nails? Was he just trying to paint? No clue. I'm just happy the entire bottle didn't spill and nothing besides his jeans were permanently ruined. At least I'll have this story to tell him when he gets older.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Homework
Jackson's Preschool assigns homework for the Pre-K students. Over Thanksgiving, he was given a packet of about 20 pages, front and back, to finish. Although the teachers said it wasn't mandatory, Andrew and I made it a point for Jackson to work on and finish it over the break. It's important to us to instill completing homework is important at an early age, so when he starts being assigned homework in elementary school, the foundation is already in place.
Jackson had a simple work assignment of cutting and pasting the numbers in the correct order on his Menorah. He was very excited to complete his assignment, and he did it all by himself. It is very important to me Jackson learns I will not being doing his homework for him. I'll watch and help where needed, but I will not be doing his work. My days of home work are over.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
M&M Thief
I was in the kitchen when Cullen came up to me and said, "Sawyer's eating the M&Ms."
I was completely confused by this statement. One, the M&Ms are in a metal container that I would have surely heard. Two, they're in the pantry which is closed. And when I glanced over, I learned it was open. Three, Sawyer has never had M&Ms, so I don't know why he would be after them.
"What?" I asked for clarification.
"Sawyer is eating the M&Ms, Mom. Come see," Cullen is telling me while pulling me into the dining room.
I go through the doors and in a little alcove (little as in just a few inches long because it is piled with pictures we have yet to hang on the walls) Sawyer has emptied almost an entire bag of dark chocolate M&Ms in a corner and is gorging himself on them. Said M&Ms were not in the metal container. His face is a multi-colored smorgasbord of color. His hands are rainbow like, and he still has M&Ms clutched in one hand as the other hand is shoveling them into his mouth.
At first, I'm too astonished at the scene before me to even react. I quickly get with the program, move him, and start trying to pick up the candy. I grab the half empty container still in the pantry and start throwing M&Ms in it. I had to stop in order to remove Sawyer from the room and put him across the house because he was willing to do whatever it took to get back to those delicious little crack candies. Cullen was a great little helper and helped pick up all the M&Ms without trying to eat them. I gave him a couple as a little reward for being a good helper.
Unfortunately, no picture was taken. I was too worried about our dog, Thibie, discovering the mess and eating chocolate to contemplate taking a quick picture. Luckily, Thibie was taking a nap by the back door.
Note to self, Sawyer has discovered M&Ms and acts like a crack addict to get some more. And I need to put them significantly higher in the pantry to avoid another such situation. For, I have a now known little M&M thief.
I was completely confused by this statement. One, the M&Ms are in a metal container that I would have surely heard. Two, they're in the pantry which is closed. And when I glanced over, I learned it was open. Three, Sawyer has never had M&Ms, so I don't know why he would be after them.
"What?" I asked for clarification.
"Sawyer is eating the M&Ms, Mom. Come see," Cullen is telling me while pulling me into the dining room.
I go through the doors and in a little alcove (little as in just a few inches long because it is piled with pictures we have yet to hang on the walls) Sawyer has emptied almost an entire bag of dark chocolate M&Ms in a corner and is gorging himself on them. Said M&Ms were not in the metal container. His face is a multi-colored smorgasbord of color. His hands are rainbow like, and he still has M&Ms clutched in one hand as the other hand is shoveling them into his mouth.
At first, I'm too astonished at the scene before me to even react. I quickly get with the program, move him, and start trying to pick up the candy. I grab the half empty container still in the pantry and start throwing M&Ms in it. I had to stop in order to remove Sawyer from the room and put him across the house because he was willing to do whatever it took to get back to those delicious little crack candies. Cullen was a great little helper and helped pick up all the M&Ms without trying to eat them. I gave him a couple as a little reward for being a good helper.
Unfortunately, no picture was taken. I was too worried about our dog, Thibie, discovering the mess and eating chocolate to contemplate taking a quick picture. Luckily, Thibie was taking a nap by the back door.
Note to self, Sawyer has discovered M&Ms and acts like a crack addict to get some more. And I need to put them significantly higher in the pantry to avoid another such situation. For, I have a now known little M&M thief.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)