Happy Birthday Travis!

This started off with the idea of getting Travis's picture holding up six fingers. He decided he wanted to do it in a 'not normal' way, thus the three & three instead of five & one. Then Sophie started playing along and holding up four fingers and then two fingers and then one finger and one thumb. So we tried to train Sophie to hold up two fingers, since she's two, but she mostly just stared intently at her hands and did a lot of finger wiggling. Since Noah was not about to be outdone, he joined the ranks and displayed his three fingers as well.

Noah is three. Travis is six. Sophie is a forefinger and a thumb. I think.

Go Super Fast!

My last year of high school, when I was getting ready to graduate, they gave all of us seniors some form to fill out that included a bunch of psycho-analytical "you are at a crossroads in your life" questions designed to make us feel like we had better be planning for greatness or we were headed for some dead-end job filling popcorn buckets at the movie theater. One of the questions involved providing a list of things you'd never done but you planned on doing sometime in your life.

On the top of my list: Learn to ski.

I had never been skiing at that point in my life, and it just seemed to me a super-glamorous activity that no self-respecting mega-fabulous person would not enjoy.

A couple years later, in college, my future husband and his friends took me on my first trip. Not surprisingly, I sucked at it, and got injured in a really weenie-type way, but I loved it (while also fearing it) and am now hooked. And, if I do say so myself, have developed into a pretty darn good skier. I've black-diamonded in the Italian Alps, for pete's sake.

So of course, Ben and I have a plan to raise our kids into super-fabulous skiers. His first ski trip was at sixteen years of age, mine at nineteen, and the learning curve is pretty tough by that time, when you've already grown into all of your limbs and thought you'd figured out all the weird contorted ways in which you could place your extremities.

But, you start a kid on skis at age 3, and just think of where they could be by age nineteen. We're talking Olympic level awesomeness here.

Travis strapped on his first pair of skis at age 3 (almost 4). Two years later, he's not a wizard on skis, but he can hold himself up and does decently. We're not overly zealous about skiing with the kids, but we do try to take him a few times a year.

So yesterday, we decided to try a mini ski-trip with the boys, for Noah's first skiing adventure.

He started out as a 'wet noodle' on skis, as Ben describes it. But he got better. He was able to balance on his own as I pushed him ahead of me (on flat land), and eventually got to where he had some reasonable equilibrium on his skis.

For me, the trip was pure exhaustion. My legs hurt from squatting down behind a three-year-old for multiple trips down the hill, my mind hurt from the stress of it all, and my head hurt from the lack of decent nutrition (my new thyroid medication is wreaking havoc on my appetite and eating habits....that's a post for another day). But, it was a milestone for me, and part of a lifelong dream in the making -- our little family, going on happy little ski trips, making memories. Just think where we'll be in five years.

Some pictures to commemorate.....

Here's the kids, running away from me, while I'm trying to load them into the truck for our trip.

This is Travis, trying to help me corral Sophie, while Noah makes it farther and farther away.

I did eventually get them in the truck though. We took Sophie to my mom's house -- she's not quite ready yet for us to strap some sticks on her feet and push her down a hill. I felt kind of bad for leaving her behind.

But not for long. She fell asleep within 2 minutes on the road. I don't think she missed us too much.

Here's Noah, getting his bindings set for his first ski trip!!

And Travis

Here they are, ready to get started! They were both super excited!

Noah was so excited, in fact, he decided he could jump. While wearing his skis. Look closely, he's got a tiny bit of air on his right ski.

Huh. Turns out that's not such a good idea.

The batteries in my camera died just after this picture, so I didn't get anything of anyone going down the hill. The boys loved it, and didn't want to stop, and it was a successful venture even if it did completely wear me out. (The title of this blog, by the way, comes from Noah's request to me as Travis and Dad passed by us on the way down the hill.)

Oh, and another thing, Travis is 5 years old for only another two and a half hours. We planned a sledding party for his birthday. See all the snow on the ground in the above pictures? That was yesterday. Today? All melted.

Sledding party cancelled. There's not often I'm disappointed about mild winter weather, but I would have been much more appreciative of this warm front on any other weekend.

No worries though. We're trying for bowling instead.

Kiss me Twice

Sophie's got this European smooching thing going on. Every once in a while, when she is giving someone a kiss, she insists on kissing one cheek and then the other. I have no idea where she got this from. It's just instinct for her.

According to Wikipedia, this is a generally unpopular gesture in the United States, except for certain ethnic neighborhoods, Louisiana, and Miami. Maybe Sophie is trying to express her desire to move south.

You with your silly, single, Midwestern kisses.

Christmas Presence

I promise not to bore you with all the details of our Christmas mayhem. But, in an effort to preserve these memories, I do want to document it in at least some capacity.

We had four Christmases: Sunday the 19th at my Dad's in Indy with sisters and step-family; Christmas Eve at the in-laws with Ben's parents and brother & family; Christmas Day with just the five of us at home; day after Christmas with my mom and sisters in Valpo. Much fun, merriment, and food ensued.

I asked each of the kids if I could get their picture taken with their favorite Christmas present:

Travis debated.... Lego motorcyclists, Tonka truck, and then finally settled on his three Transformers toys.... Bumblebee, Drift, and Jet Blade.

Noah was also torn. In the end, he chose his new Backyardigans circus tent and his race track. He absolutely could not be forced to decide between the two.

Sophie's favorite is her new puppy dog that comes with fashionable purse in which to tote it around. You can't see the dog's floofy shawl that it's wearing, that matches the pink-and-white animal print handbag.

Travis and Noah and I helped Sophie come up with a name for her new dog. We decided on Lily. In retrospect, this probably isn't the ideal name, since Sophie can't quite pronounce her Ls. She calls her "Wiwwee". Oh well.

So, our many Christmases were a success. By the way, the Christmas countdown chalkboard has been packed away as of yesterday, with the message "363 days 'til Christmas" perpetually displayed, reminding all the other Christmas decorations in the box that they won't get to see the light of day again for quite some time.

And, finally, I have a couple more pictures of Travis that I need to post from the Christmas season. First off, Angel Mass on the last day of school:

In the pew

Singing with the class

Look at that angel face!!

Lastly, Travis at tae kwon do:

Aye-yah!!

Getting his first belt

The end.

Even my glands are lazy

Increased thyroid antibodies. Pre-hypothyroidism.

Finally, an explanation (and, I'll admit it, a welcome excuse) for the forgetfulness, depression, fatigue, weird weight gain, etc. that has plagued my last 10 to 12 months. Heck, it even causes cravings for carbohydrates and caffeine. (I'd blame my poor bowling skills and hatred of folding laundry on my thyroid if I could get away with it, but that's probably pushing it.)

So, I'm starting a medication to stop my thyroid from lounging around in its pjs all day, and hopefully get it kicked back into gear.

(Yes, it's true that I just wrote a blog post about wearing my pjs for a full day, but, come on, that was Christmas.)

I spent all day in my PJs

It's true.

You see, one of the things Santa always does for us is bring everyone in the family a brand new pair of Christmas pjs. And the first thing we do when we wake up in the morning, before we do anything else, before we go downstairs and begin the chaos of the day, we all put on our new pajamas.

And, today, we had no plans other than to play with our new stuff, so.... yes, I wore my pjs all day today.

I took a shower, and put my pjs back on afterwards.

It was awesome.

Pajamas rock. Thanks, Santa.

So this is Christmas

We have a little Christmas-countdown chalkboard that we've had out since Thanksgiving, counting down the days until Christmas. I keep it on the piano. Generally, I try to update it each evening after the kids go to bed, so it will be correct for the next day.

This morning, Noah woke up first, as per usual, and came into our room asking if he could cuddle with me for a little while. He climbed into bed, and as we were snuggling, I asked him if he knew how many days it was until Christmas.

He thought for a second, then said, "...two?"

I shook my head.

He perked up a little bit, and guessed, "One??!?" with excitement sneaking into his voice.

When I nodded, he shot up in bed and exclaimed, "I'll go check!" and raced out the door and down the stairs.

It dawned on me that he was going down to check that countdown chalkboard. It also dawned on me that I had neglected to change it the night before.

Moments later, Noah came back up the stairs. He climbed into bed, and, with just a trace of detectable disappointment, said, "Nope. It's not one day 'til Christmas yet. It's still two days 'til Christmas."

That blasted chalkboard. In this house, it's like the divine authority on the arrival of Christmas. Nevermind that the calendar says its the 24th of December, nevermind that the stores are having Christmas Eve sales. The chalkboard says two days 'til Christmas.

Thankfully, Travis soon woke up and remedied the situation for us:

By the way, it was his idea to x out the "s" in "days". He couldn't stand that the sign be grammatically incorrect by declaring "1 days 'til Christmas". Yep, another grammar snob in the house. That's my boy.

Today, we traveled to the in-laws. And what would Christmas be without some good old golf-cart sledding?

The big kids even got in on the fun. That's Aunt Jody with Nate, trying to overtake Noah in the sledding race.

And finally, I leave you with a couple pictures of our Santa set-up. Of course we set out cookies and milk, and some apples for the reindeer. This year, Travis wanted to leave Santa a note.

"Dear Santa, Under our tree is full so please leave some of our presents by our shoes. We are leaving apple slices for your reindeer. I hope they like them. Love, Travis."

Bedtime? It's for suckers.

The tides have turned.

My once-terrific sleeper, my little girl who used to climb in my lap and say, "I go night-night?"; my sweet baby who, once upon a time, at any mention of bedtime, would gather her stuffed animals and march upstairs of her own accord; the girl who, upon being laid in her crib, used to clutch her blankie, say, "night-night mom", and squeeze her little eyes shut until I left the room...well, suffice it to say she has finally decided to fight sleep with any tools she can find at her disposal.

For the last few nights, she has passionately resisted bedtime, pleading "Not bed, mom! Not bed!" and "cuddle? I need cuddle! I need mom!"

Tonight, she insisted it was not bedtime. No mom, it most assuredly Is. Not. Bedtime. After showing her the darkened sky out the window and reminding her that she can't tell time, and noting that I can definitively say that since we are now past the hour of 8pm, it most certainly is bedtime, I gathered a handful of stuffed animals and toted them, and her, to her room.

She begged, "I need cuddle Dad!"

I reminded her that Dad is at bowling tonight.

"I need cuddle Erin!"

Erin, who had stopped by earlier in the evening, is also not here and is also at bowling.

"I need...." pause ....... pointing... "that bear!"

I give her the requested teddy.

"I need to watch a movie!"

Okay, dear Sophie, now you're reaching. No movie. Go to bed.

So, I left her crying in her room. She's asleep now. So much for my stellar sleeper.

Choo Train

Here's some pictures of our trip to Coldwater to visit Santa on the train (or "choo train" as Sophie calls it).

Driving to the North Pole. Er, I mean, Coldwater, Michigan.

Met up with the cousins -- here they are, watching the little train go around the tree

Ben taking Travis and Noah onto the train

the boys!

(and, Uncle Mac's hand in the process of snapping a photo. I bet he got a better picture than I did. They're all looking at him.)

Sophie loved looking out the window

Choo Train!

Travis and Trevor missed each other. And, Trevor really enjoys being a ham for the camera. It's his calling.

A bunch of kids cuddled with Pa-pa

Noah with Santa in the caboose

Travis and Santa

the boys

Sophie's turn! I like how she's got Santa so involved in whatever story she's telling that he's looking up at the ceiling along with her while she chats away.

"And over there is a snowman, you see it? You see the snowman, Santa Cwaus?"

Doesn't Santa look thrilled?

We tried to get a family picture at the front of the train with the engine in view. Bad lighting. Oops. Trust me, we were there, and we were happy.

Santa Tales

Sorry, its been a slow blogging week. I told you Decembers make my head spin.

A brief catch-up:

I enrolled Travis in tae kwon do last week. He's been to two sessions and loves it. I think it will do him a world of good in terms of balance, coordination, self-confidence, and focus -- all things he needs a little work on. I'll post pictures soon - it's awesome.

Sophie turns two on Thursday! Her birthday party is tomorrow, just a small thing with family. I can't believe she is two already, but she has the personality of a precocious four-year-old. Sharp as a tack, fearless and stubborn, she is not one to slide under the radar. In fact, she is flitting about all over the place so that the radar mistakenly thinks there are three of her.

We took the kids on a train ride to see Santa over the weekend. Fun trip, they got to see cousins, and they all did good with Santa. Noah was the most leery of the gigantic bearded man, but he did sit with him and shyly make his request (a Backyardigans toy). Travis chattered on and on about his list; a Bumblebee transformer that really transforms, and also a Pillow Pet, preferably a moose but if not, then a bumblebee, but you don't have to get me both kinds of Pillow Pets, Santa, I only need one, so whichever one you can get me is fine. Sophie, of course, had no idea she was to have developed a LIST, so instead she clambered onto Santa's lap and regaled him with stories of Canada, and snowmen, and flashlights, pointing dramatically around her for effect. Santa and his candy cane wielding elf were properly charmed.

Tonight, Travis and I counted out pennies for a donation drive at his school. The teacher recommended tying it to some type of counting activity, like count the windows in your house and the put aside that many pennies in a jar. But, I'm sorry, that's only, like twelve cents. So, Travis and I decided to set aside two thousand and ten pennies, one for every year since Jesus was born. Perhaps a little ridiculous, but it's a good cause, donated to needy area families, and I like the symbolism by relating it to the birth of Jesus, since I seem to recall that that somehow fits in to this whole holiday season somewhere. We'll never miss the twenty bucks, I pulled it from a gigantic coin jar that I've had literally since high school (okay, you got me, it perhaps got raided once or twice in my college years). Travis counted out the last hundred and ten coins, and Sophie had a ball pretending to count them (ever try to count to a thousand with a two year old nearby screeching " one! Two! Six! Twenty, twenty, sixteen! Two!"? It's....er.....terrific.)

More to follow once I find some time to breathe.

10 Things That Make Me Happy

Okay, time for one of those blogs. I decided its a good time to remind you, faithful reader (and, perhaps more importantly, myself) of some of those things that really just brighten my day.

A caveat. You won't see my kids in here. Not because they don't make me happy -- on the contrary, they make me insanely, blissfully overjoyed. Sometimes Ben and I sit around and talk about how our kids are the coolest, cutest, smartest, most terrifically fabulous children on the planet.

But, I like to reinforce for myself, particularly in my blog, an identity beyond motherhood. It's just one of those things that is important to me.

Perhaps the title of this blog should more accurately be, "10 Things That Make Me Happy, With the Exception of My Awesome Kids, Which Are on the Top of the List, but Which Shall Not be Mentioned Here For Purposes of Satisfying My Internal Desire to be Recognized as a Person Beyond My Identity as a Mother". But perhaps that's overkill.

A second caveat. This is frivolous. It's not stuff like "world peace" and "the end of poverty". Would those things make me happy? Sure. Do they compare to a plate of crackers with a cheese ball? Clearly, they are not in the same ball park. But I am writing this blog from the ball park that involves petty selfish indulgences and guilty pleasures moreso than idealistic beauty-queen-pageant answers.

1. Ben. I'm not always very good at expressing my gratefulness to him, in between all the hollering about leaving his dirty socks on the floor and the bickering about who's going to haul Noah back up to bed (which, more often than not, gets resolved by a good ol' round of Rock Paper Scissors, best two out of three), but he can deal with me better than anyone else in the world. And he lets me be terrible at handling laundry without giving me too hard of a time about it. And he likes grocery shopping. And he plays cards with me. (See item #2)

2. Playing cards. I just love playing cards. And other games, but I tend to be partial to card games. Euchre especially. And Texas Hold 'Em. I could play those games for hours upon hours. Maybe its because those games tend to be played in large, social groups. I'm not the most socially extroverted of personalities, but toss a deck of cards in front of me and all of a sudden I'm in my element.

3. Working out. I am by NO MEANS a fitness guru or anything like that. In fact, sometimes I suck at working out. Sometimes I hit the snooze button too many times and sleep through my morning workout. Sometimes I don't push as hard as I could. Sometimes I grumble through the whole thing. But for the most part, I love it. I love the gym environment -- I've never been that great at working out at home. I love logging my workouts into my gym's automated system. I love getting a quick 30 minute run in over my lunch break. I feel good when I'm working out, and afterwards. Not always before, but I guess that's the point.

4. Ski trips. It's winter again, and I'm looking forward to our annual ski trip with college buddies. Extended weekend ski trips, in a log cabin in northern Michigan, with 8 of our closest friends -- you can't beat it. Plus, lots of times it involves some Hold 'Em Tournaments, refer back to item #2. Ski weekends at home where we make day trips to more local ski areas and then rush back to soak in the hot tub for hours. My ski trip to Italy earlier this year. Many of my fondest memories involve rushing down a mountain (or glorified hill, in some cases) with sticks strapped to my feet.

5. Cheese. I love almost all types of cheese. I crave cheese a lot. Cream cheese, cheesecake, string cheese, sliced cheese, shredded colby and monterey jack, I can never get enough cheese. Mmmmmm. Cheeeeeese.

6. My job. I'm so lucky. I've worked hard to get where I am, but I'm lucky to have an employer that recognizes and appreciates that. I'm lucky that I'm able to work a flexible schedule, and to keep a management position. Sometimes I get frustrated, what job isn't frustrating at times, but my office is full of a lot of terrific people. My boss is smart, level-headed, and fair. My team is hard-working, honest, and professional.

7. Football. I've kind of lost my muster as a football fan these past few years. Motherhood has done that to me (oops, I said the "m" word). I don't often spend all day on Sunday watching whatever NFL games come my way, and I've even missed a Colts game now and then. But my fondest memories involve Ben and I at a BW3 in college, playing pool and watching football on a lazy Sunday afternoon. And if I've got the time, I can get into a football game like nothing else.

8. Puzzles. Crossword puzzles. Logic puzzles. Sudoku puzzles. When was the last time I even did a crossword puzzle? I can't even remember. But I find them extremely satisfying. I used to buy logic puzzle books by the ton just to sit down and do in my free time. The biggest problem is that I've gotten progressively stupider after each kid. I'm three times stupider than I used to be, which mainly seems to affect the part of my brain that deals with a) simple logical deduction and b) where I put my keys.

9. Hot chocolate. This is the perfect time of year to sit down with a piping hot cup of steaming hot chocolate, but understand, I've been known to partake of same steaming cup in the middle of July. I'm not a coffee drinker, but I love me some hot chocolate. Chocolate LaSalles from the chocolate company across the street from my office are a particular favorite, but good ol' Nestle serves me pretty well too.

10. My awesome kids. Okay, I gave in. I couldn't not list them. But at least I didn't list them as items 1 through 9 also, like "the way my kids tell me they love me while quietly climbing into bed after putting all their toys away neatly."

My kids are terrific. I learn from them every day. I had a babysitter (who normally runs a day care out of her home, so she knows her stuff) tell me the other day that Travis has a such a sweet soul that you can't help but adore him. She nailed it. Noah, more rambunctious and stubborn, is one of those life-of-the-party personalities that lights up a whole room. Sophie - well, if you know her, then no further explanation is needed. She's a firestorm and an angel rolled into one. I'm such a lucky mom.

So my kids are awesome. Sue me.

A Day in the Life

A typical Davidson morning:

3:30 a.m.: Noah cracks my bedroom door open and peeks in. Door opens wider, he comes up to my bed and says, “Mom? Can I cuddle with you for a little while?” More often than not, I mumble something unintelligible as he crawls into bed next to me.

3:32 a.m.: Noah sits straight up in bed and whispers, “Oh! I forgot something!”, goes back to his room and gets some random toy, (this week its been the little table-top bead maze and a Backyardigans book), then climbs back into bed with me.

3:49, 4:17, 4:32, and other random moments: I’m startled awake by a little elbow digging into my back, or my pillow being snatched away from underneath my head. Fitful sleep ensues, but I'm just too tired to drag the little pillow thief back to his own bed.

5:30 a.m.: Alarm goes off. I ignore it and/or stare at it in disbelief. Noah hits the snooze button.

5:39 a.m.: Alarm goes off again. Noah hits the snooze before I even have time to register it.

5:48 a.m.: Alarm goes off again. Noah hits the snooze button.

5:57 a.m.: Alarm goes off again. Noah hits the snooze button.

6:06 a.m.: Alarm goes off again. Noah hits the snooze button. This time I’m starting to wake up a bit.

6:09 a.m.: I finally drag myself out of bed to the shower.

6:19 a.m.: I’m showered and have dug something out of the perpetual un-put-away clean laundry pile on the couch in my bedroom to wear to work. Noah is awake and waiting for me to head downstairs. He has way more energy than should be humanly possible. We head into the boys’ room to wake Travis up.

6:23 a.m.: I’m still convincing Travis to get out of bed. He’s complaining that he’s still tired, or that his leg hurts, or something like that. I tell him that I’m going to go wake up Sophie, and he shoots out of bed like a rocket so that he can beat Noah to opening up Sophie’s door. Noah then melts into a pile on the floor, screaming “I WANTED TO OPEN THE DOOR!”, and I step over him into Sophie’s room. Sophie, who is already awake and lying quietly in bed, glances at me out of the corner of her eye and then grabs some nearby stuffed animal or blanket to cover her face with and pretend she’s not there. I say, “where’s Sophie?!?” a couple times until she pops her head out and giggles with glee.

6:27 a.m.: The whole lot of us stumble downstairs and I toss some breakfast in front of them. They scarf it down. Meanwhile I throw together Travis’s lunch of PB&J and goldfish crackers. Noah insists on placing the sandwich inside the lunch box. I load up Travis’s backpack with lunchbox, snow pants, mittens, shoes, and folder. It’s stuffed full and practically too heavy for me to carry.

6:37 a.m.: I head over to the love seat where I laid all their clothes out the night before, and call for Sophie to come over and get dressed while the boys go potty. Sophie takes two or three deliberate steps towards me and then turns tail and runs away, screeching with delight. I holler at her that this is NOT A GAME, get over here so I can change your diaper and put your socks on! She comes over when she hears there are socks involved. She loves socks.

6:45 a.m.: I finally have Sophie dressed. She sits off to the side and tries to put Noah’s socks on over her own socks while I call for the boys to come in and get dressed. I tell Travis he has until I count to ten to get each item of clothing on. He starts to get a little frantic when I start counting and puts on his new underwear over his old underwear. I don’t realize it until I’m at “nine”, point it out to him, and then Travis panics and asks if that counts or will I please start over so he can try again? Meanwhile I am trying to get Noah to step into his underwear, which he does only after pretending to “miss” three times with each leg. I toss Travis his pants and start counting again, and finally manage to subdue Noah enough to get pants on him as well. When they’re finally both dressed I start looking frantically for their socks, which have mysteriously disappeared. Oh, that’s right, Sophie was putting on an extra pair and she also managed to hide the other pair inside of my boot, or the bucket of hats, or the dog cage.

6:55 a.m.: Everyone is dressed and ordered to the shoe bench for boot adornment. Travis gets his boots on in seconds flat. Snow boots are still a novelty to him at this point in the season, so he’s excited about it. Noah screams at the top of his lungs, “I CAN DO IT MYSELF! I WANTED TO BEAT TRAVIS!”. I grab a boot and prepare to shove it on his foot while he flails his leg around in defiance. Finally catch the foot and zip on his boot. Grab for the other boot but it turns out Sophie has it on her own foot. I yank it off and toss her her own boots, which she proceeds to pull on the wrong feet and stomp around in accomplishment.

7:01 a.m.: I am passing out hats and coats, only to find the zipper is missing on Travis’s coat and Noah’s favorite hat is MIA. He wants to wear Sophie’s pink polka-dotted hat. Fine.

7:03 a.m.: Everyone is bundled up so we head out to the car. I have to hold on to Sophie’s hood like a leash because otherwise she makes a beeline for the deepest piles of snow. Unfailingly she picks up a handful of snow for eating. Travis gets himself into the car, and I open the door for Noah. He climbs in, but then I have to squeeze Sophie in over the top of him because her seat is in the middle. She’s like a puffy marshmallow with her giant coat. I try to squeeze her in the car seat, which consists of regularly re-squishing her puffy coat so I can get her fastened. Buckle up the boys and we finally hit the road.

7:18 a.m.: Arrive at ya-ya’s. Unload Noah and Sophie. Noah heads straight for the bench where his granola bar and milk are waiting for him. He insists on giving Sophie’s granola bar to her. I blow them each a kiss and rush out the door.

7:25 a.m.: Arrive at Travis’s school. Unbuckle, walk him in, quick hug and kiss, and off he goes.

7:31 a.m.: On the road to work. Realize I haven’t put on deodorant or makeup. Grab each out of my workout bag and apply while driving down the road.

7:36 a.m.: Arrive at work. Whew. A chance to relax.

P.S. I don’t do this every day. Twice a week I have my morning workout, and I’m out the door before the rest of the house wakes up. On those days, you can substitute Ben for me in the above story. All other details remain about the same, aside from the over-the-road make-up application.

Look, it's cake!

For some reason, as much as she loves the guy, Sophie pretty much refuses to say Justin's name. She mostly calls him Erin. Yes, they're engaged, and yes, she sees them together quite a bit, but they are actually separate people and it's not clear that Sophie realizes that. Poor Justin, he's constantly shaking his head at her and saying, "It's JUSTIN! I'm NOT Erin!!" Her response is to kind of look at him with a quizzical expression on her face. You can almost hear her saying, "Okay. Whatever you say, Erin."

Tonight at the Boys and Girls Club, the kids played dodgeball. My job was to police the kids to make sure they actually left the field of play after being tagged 'out'. Tough job. Brought back many fond, and not-so-fond memories of my own childhood dodgeball experiences. What would childhood be without dodgeball? I shudder to think.

And my final piece of useless, random news, tonight I dropped Noah and Sophie off at Erin's house for a bit while we went to Travis's parent/teacher conference. As we were getting ready to head out to the car, Noah asked if he could bring a box of cake mix that Ben had picked up at Aldi's this week. It's a Christmas confetti cake mix. Anyway, he wanted to take it with him to show Erin. I reminded him that, last night, Erin had stopped by to drop off some winter clothes for Justin, and he had taken that opportunity to show her the cake mix. But, he insisted that he wanted to show it to her again. I complied. Yes, it's a little weird that we're toting a box of cake mix around, and that Noah thinks its important enough to show off to other people, but, whatever. Not too much of a hardship and it kept the little guy happy, so we'll go with it.

Hips Don't Lie

I've been neglecting my hips.

This morning was 4-mile run day at the gym. I just run around the track, which is admittedly quite boring, but I'm not up for outside runs on the hard concrete sidewalks in 30-degree weather these days. So, around and around the track I run. 42 laps for a 4-miler. It's a small track.

By lap 35, my left hip was screaming at me. I slowed my pace but by lap 40 you could scarcely call what I was doing running. I was shuffling. I decided to walk the last 2 laps, which frustrates me because I don't ever walk my workouts. But better that than overdo it and end up with more serious hip troubles.

On a side note, I've appeased myself by saying 42 laps might actually be a little more than 4 miles. The sign on the track says 10-11 laps is a mile. This also frustrates me because, hello, there is a difference between 10 laps and 11 laps, and a whole heck of a lot of difference between 40 laps and 44 laps. This is a skinny track, just barely two lanes worth, so its not as if the 'inside lane' and the 'outside lane' differ that much in distance. I've decided to consider 10.5 laps to be 1 mile, but perhaps the sign makers were just to lazy to measure and it turns out that one mile is 10 laps plus 3 feet, or something like that.

Back to my sore hips. After I'd cooled down, did some light stretching, and showered, my left hip was feeling better but my right hip was acting up. It may be from the rowing machine that I did yesterday, which I did for longer and a little harder than normal, so I'll ease up on that. But I also found a whole host of hip exercises and stretches I should be doing that I'm not. Tomorrow is my 'rest' day, I think I'll take that opportunity to get in some good stretches. I'm admittedly a slacker when it comes to stretching. I do about 10 minutes worth before my run and 5 minutes after, but its not very strategic.

Coming up for the Davidson family: Kindergarten parent/teacher conference on Thursday. We got Travis's report card last week, which was positive and pretty much what I expected. A few areas identified for improvement, nothing earth-shattering.

Friday night I have a girls-only birthday party for a college friend that I am super-excited about. We're going to dinner, and a Fort Wayne Komets game. There's something about a girls' night out that includes a hockey game that I find absolutely fabulous. We'll spend all weekend with these college buds as they are also having a get-together at their house Saturday night. Much fun will be had.

Yay.

All that for a shop-vac

I can tell it's been too long since I last posted, because the iPad didn't remember my blogger URL. Going forward, I vow to at least attempt to blog enough such that my cached website history includes said blog. Deal?

I partook in my first Black Friday shopping experience ever. It is important that you understand a few things about me. Firstly, I hate shopping. Secondly, I hate shopping. And thirdly, I especially hate shopping for the sake of shopping, which is the worst kind of shopping of all. When I say this is my first Black Friday, I mean it. Previous Black Fridays involved me purposefully avoiding anything resembling a shopping outlet as though my life depended upon it. No grocery shopping, not even a gas station stop if I could avoid it.

So, the fact that the wee hours of Friday, November 26th found me shivering outside a Menards in a line with 500 other crazed idiots hoping for a killer deal on a shop-vac is quite the separation from the norm. The fact that I was actually even excited about the experience is nothing short of a miracle.

For the record, we didn't buy a shop-vac. I can't tell you what we did buy because there are certain kindergartners that read this blog.

At any rate, I survived the experience, people were civil and for the most part friendly, in fact it's a sort of bonding moment when you're huddled together in frigid weather with complete strangers.

Other Thanksgiving-related activities were a success. First ever T-Day brunch at my sister's house (pancakes for Thanksgiving = AWESOME), then Friday at the in-laws. We missed Ben's brother and family, who were on vacay in Florida, but otherwise a pleasant day.

We debated driving down to Indy on Saturday to watch the football team from the high school Ben works at play in the state championship game. In the end we decided not to go. We both were quite agonized over the decision, but the prospect of trying to entertain Sophie for three hours at Lucas Oil Stadium finally trumped our desire to go cheer on the team. They lost. But had a good showing. Nice job, Indians.

Seventeen days until I have a 2-year-old again, and then another fifteen days after that, our little family welcomes it's first ever six-year-old.

Yikes. No wonder Decembers make my head spin.

Tis the season

Tonight, Travis asked me to sing 'Jingle Bells' for him, since he couldn't remember what came after "jingle all the way". So I did. Complete thru the first verse and chorus, and kind of muddling through the second verse. Then chorus again. A rousing rendition if I do say so myself.

Sophie, who was sitting on my lap at the time, watched me with a rapt look on her face throughout the entire song. Upon completion, she seemed quite contemplative, sat quietly for a moment, and then, still looking at me intently, said in a solemn voice,

"Try again."

Geez. Everyone's a critic.

Turkey Show

Full video of Travis's Kindergarten Thanksgiving program here. Cute.

But, in case you're not up for watching the full 11 minutes, here's a couple snapshots.

He was so excited to see us in the crowd.

Singing and dancing along

shakin his tailfeather

Noah loved it. He clapped enthusiastically for his big brother. And called out, repeatedly, "Come on! What's the next song?!"

Sophie alternated between enjoying it and screeching "I want cuddle Mom!"

Travis was super-proud of his turkey feathers