It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas!

We get really excited for Christmas around here.  Craig begins playing those special tunes and decorating as soon as he possibly can.  We love it.  But I don't usually manage to blog a single thing about it until the middle of January.  So for what is probably the first time ever, here are a few pictures of our pre-holiday celebrating!!!  There will be many more to come as Craig's family rolls into town and we REALLY begin partying Smith do-stuff-every-single-day style!

But here's what we've already been up to:

Ryder climbs into the Christmas tree box, making it now look like a coffin.  Happy Holidays!

Colton's first look at a Christmas tree: absolute magic.  Baby's first Christmas is special no matter how old that baby is, but there is something fun about having a baby old enough to get excited about a glowing, ornamented tree!

Followed quickly by Colton's first try at grabbing ornaments off the tree.  They've all been moved to higher ground now.

Then Colton proceeded to get into a wrestling match with the tree skirt.

It was touch and go for a while

Yes, he actually did this to himself.  We did not pose him.

I think he finally beat it, fair and square!

Peace, good will towards men.

And women.

The finished product!

Let it snow!  And let school be cancelled!

I love that the kids put an extra carrot in his stick arms, looking like a fat cigar or something.  But if you start to really think about it, it gets weirder and weirder: he's holding an extra nose????  Creepy...

And what's Christmas without a white elephant gift exchange?  I got this treasure.  The kids are afraid of it.  I'm kind of afraid of it, too, actually.  Craig took it to school and plans to make a sign that reads, "Unruly students will be fed to Lenee."

We busted out our soft and cozy jammies.  And napped in them.

{Sigh}

Bentley got to ride the Santa Train with his friend Liam (and Liam's big sisters)

Craig did a heck of a lot of baking.  Featured here: spritz cookies, bark, triple chunk cookies, gingerbread man, fudge, and salted caramel Rice Krispie treats.  Most recipes can be found on my recipe blog!

We had moments of brotherly love (and notice all the snowflakes in the background!)

Colton turned 9 months old, and got to have his portrait done!

I was beyond excited when I found this outfit for him-- he looks like he could be in Newsies!

Rocking the backwards hat look, even as a Newsie.

And just because I can't resist...

We also attended the Cub Scout Christmas party.  Here Grandma helps Ryder with a sticker nativity set

Kendra is hard at work on hers, too.

And Bentley and Peter, of course!

I was experimenting with holding Colton in the Ergo on my hip.  I think I may need to watch the video again, though...

Grandpa also helps out

Three of the four went to see Santa.  Unfortunately, I couldn't get that dumb scout out of the background!

Afterwards, Kendra wanted to have a few words with Santa without those pesky brothers around

Too precious.

Colton clapping his hands and other general merriment.

And no Christmas is complete without a trip to see the temple lights (and the Capitol Clarion Bell Choir!!!)

It actually was super warm; they didn't need those coats at all.

The whole gang

Merry Christmas, everyone!  I hope your holidays are jolly and full of fun and a few moments of peace and goodwill!

And a Thanksgiving Video

Here are the kids dancing.  I don't think I would be exaggerating if I said that they are all crazy in their own unique and wonderful way:



Just because I can't help it, I'm going to add my own commentary: don't you just love how Ryder is simply walking in circles like some sort of bizarre automaton? And I found out later that what Eliot is doing is actually a monkey walk.  Not a duck walk.  And Kendra.  Dear sweet Kendra.  I love how she's just sitting there calmly, waiting for an invitation to join in the dancing.  And how she pops up as soon as it is extended and proceeds to prance all over the room like a fairy on crack.

This video makes me laugh every single time I watch it.  Every single time.

Pictures from Thanksgiving

We went up to New York again for Thanksgiving this year, and enjoyed spending the holiday with three of my four sisters (plus Juliana and her husband Jeff and my "Aunt" Jan, none of whom managed to be in any of my pictures!). The drive there was even more horrendous than last year's, which is saying something.  If you ask Google Maps how long it will take to drive to Leah's house, they estimate it at 4-and-a-half hours.  But throw in DC's horrendous beltway traffic, freezing rain, a major holiday that makes the beltway even worse than usual, and a baby who needs to be fed every now and then, and we're talking a VERY long and tedious trip.  We left at 5pm.  We arrived at 2am.  Yes, it took us double the estimated time to get there.  Ugh.

The good news was that the kids were sleeping for a decent chunk of that time:

L-R: Bentley Kendra (barely visible, wrapped in her pink blankie), and Ryder

I'm leaning way over the seat to take this one of the baby sleeping.  We had stopped to get new windshield wipers because the ones we had were streaking.  The new ones weren't any better.  We could barely see for the entire drive...

This may be my favorite picture of Colton ever:

Apparently it was "No Shave" November for Uncle Ian.  Colton was fascinated-- it was the first mustache he'd ever seen!  For me, it was the first time I'd ever seen a real live version of Super Mario!

Fascinated.  Or possibly horrified...

But he still slept in Aunt Tracy's arms just fine...  So apparently the mustache did NOT give him nightmares.

Ryder and Eliot in a rare moment of sharing!

The kids watching TV

Eliot liked playing with his youngest cousin!

Ryder pretty much stopped sleeping while we were there, so here he is being a snuggle bug!

And one more favorite: Ian managed to snap this picture of Craig with his own phone and change it to his screen background.  I liked what it did then when Craig plugged it in so it then read "100% Charged."  Sure, Siri, he looks totally charged...

Those are all the pictures I have.  Which is terrible because most of the people who were there aren't in them!  Where is Rachael?  Juliana?  Jeff?  Leah and Brian, whose house we were staying at?????  I should not go into the documentary business.  Unless I want to create VERY dishonest documentaries.

Suffice it to say, there were a lot more people there than what you're seeing here.  And we all sat around eating and talking a lot.  And cooking all of the yummy Thanksgiving food we all love.  Oodles of all that stuff.  So much cooking that when we were done with the main feast, you couldn't tell that we'd made much of a dent in it.  It was that awesome!  My children did NOT spend very much time sleeping, and we're just now getting them back into good sleeping habits again (just in time for Christmas to knock them all out of whack!).

We left Saturday morning and drove into Manhattan, hoping to eat a couple of our favorite foods while there: we met up with Tracy, Rachael and Ian at the Shake Shack and had a splendid lunch, and Tracy was sweet and brought us cookies from Levaine Bakery so we wouldn't have to stop by there, too.  The drive home was slow, but not as bad as the drive there had been.

And I learned, when we arrived back at home, that setting the thermostat at 55 degrees was a bad idea.  But it warmed up eventually!

It was a lovely break-- I'm always so excited to see my sisters!  Now if only we could convince Natalie to come along, too, it would be perfect!

Teachings of My Youth. Sort of.

So, if you know anything about the Mormon church, you probably have noticed that we place a HUGE emphasis on the importance of having/raising children.  And we begin teaching this to our youth, especially the girls ages 12-18.  (I assume they do the same for the boys, too, but I've never been there to hear it, so I don't actually know.  It's possible they emphasize going on a mission, with the assumption that marriage and parenthood is the next step after that...?  Yeah, I don't know.)

I've been working with girls this age for two-and-a-half years now.  And I'll admit-- I don't seem to talk too much about being a mother.  Mostly because, despite what I just told you in the above paragraph, I have no recollection of hearing lessons about being a mother.  I'm honestly not sure if this is because we didn't have those lessons, or because I just wasn't paying attention.  Perhaps I blocked it all out?  I don't know.  It's sort of a mystery to me.*

But whatever was or wasn't being taught, I knew having kids was an important thing to do in that same ethereal way that I understood my body's organs were busy pumping away, keeping me alive and functioning.  It must be important, but it wasn't something I gave much-- or any-- thought to.

But it's just now that I am realizing how thankful I am for this teaching.

Because-- to be perfectly honest-- I was never someone who was interested in having kids.  I babysat for several families with wonderful children who I adored.  But as soon as their parents came home, I was happy to flee back to my own carefree life.  And while there was the occasional baby that I thought was cute and would beg for a chance to hold, as soon as I found that baby in my arms, I would immediately realize that I had NO idea what to do with him and quickly give him back to his mother (or pass him off to another girl clamoring for the chance).  If I did hold on to the baby for more than a minute, I would be so bored.

So I was not exactly born with a thriving maternal instinct.

Having kids was not something I was overly concerned with.  Most people had kids, and I assumed I probably would, too... ? Some day...?  If I ever got married...?  But I was much more focused on my own bucket list of things I wanted to do before I bothered with children, which was why I went on a mission, did two study abroad trips, spent the requisite month backpacking around Europe, and went to grad school.  These were the things I was interested in!

When Craig and I decided we wanted to get married, we talked about having kids, and I told him I wanted to wait a few years.  "We'll need time to travel and play and do whatever we want, first!" I gushed.  And I fully believed that.  Once we were done having fun, we could have the five kids I figured we'd have (mostly because that was how many kids there are in my family, and I always thought that worked well), spaced out with two years between each one.

Craig was the poor guy who did the math and pointed out to me that according to this schedule, I'd be having my last kid when I was forty.  He was very nice about it-- actually, I think he was afraid of offending me-- when he said, "I don't want you to miss out on anything you feel you need to do to feel fulfilled.  But...  maybe we should only wait a year to have kids?"

I was a bit shocked.  Was it possible that I could age so quickly?  Just because I wasn't getting married until I was 26, did that really mean I'd forfeited my chance for an extended, 2-years-with-no-kids honeymoon?  But I also wasn't thrilled with the idea of having a baby at age 40**.  Craig's fears over how I would react to this revelation turned out to be unnecessary.  I laughed and admitted that my time table wasn't going to work very well.  Maybe just a year would do.

Then we got married, and suddenly I wondered why we were waiting at all.  And Bentley was born the September after our 1st anniversary.  I'll admit that I was terrified of having a baby.  Excited. But also very scared.  Sitting at the hospital in labor was awful, and not just because of the pain.  I think the fear-- of the pain that was yet to come AND of literally having a baby to take care of-- was probably a bigger problem than any of the pain I actually felt.  And I spent those first few months of Bentley's life scared every time he started crying that he just might never stop.

But gradually that all changed.  I knew what I was doing and I loved having a sweet little baby to take care of.  And I couldn't wait to have another.  And another.  And another.  And I felt like shouting, "Why didn't somebody tell me how great this would be???  No one ever told me how fun little babies are!!!"

Which is why I am now acknowledging now that they did.  Or they tried.  I think.  I just wasn't paying any attention. 

But I'm thankful that Craig persuaded me not to wait so long.  And I'm thankful for a religion that taught me-- very subtly, apparently-- that this was something that mattered in my life, something that shouldn't be put off for too long.  Because without these two influences, there's no telling how long I would have waited to have that first child.  It might have been too late to have them all.  I might have let myself run out of time.




*I've heard other girls talk about endless lessons on how to be good wives and mothers, and I wonder how we managed to have such different experiences.  But I can only tell you what I went through, which in my memory seems to be filled with putting on plays and learning to cook (because I asked, not so I could "be a good mother") and going on hikes and stuff...

**No offense to those who have or will-- and I no longer have such strong feelings about that number anyway.  I'm just saying that 26-year-old me didn't like the idea.

Happy Birthday, Ryder!

Ryder has officially joined the exclusive club for 3-year-olds!  It means taking the rule-testing of Terrible Twos to a whole new level.  But it also means learning to do so many things for yourself and finally talking clearly enough that even people other than me can understand and so much more!

And let me just tell you-- when Ryder isn't being a pill by refusing to put on his shoes or something, he sure is delightful!  I always tell Craig that Ryder will be a great boyfriend some day.  He enjoys telling me things like, "Your hair looks GREAT today, Mommy!" or if I'm having a bad day, will worriedly ask, "Okay, Mommy?  Okay?"  And I can always count on him for a quick hug whenever I need it (unlike Bentley, who will refuse, and Kendra, who won't let go).  Ryder is really good at making me happy, which is pretty impressive for a 3-year-old!

Since his birthday fell on Thanksgiving Day this year, and the idea of eating cake AFTER a Thanksgiving feast sort of turned my stomach, we celebrated early with Grandma and Grandpa.  And had a lovely time-- three years old is entering the perfect age for getting super excited about presents, as you can see from the pictures!

The birthday kid always gets to lick the cake batter

Very excited for the pile of presents Grandma and Grandpa brought...

That is one happy boy!

One of his favorite books (now I can stop getting it from the library!)

So excited!

He loves his new Lightning McQueen slippers!

This toy was a favorite (and made Bentley incredibly jealous)

Dessert time at Red Robin!

And time for cake!

Love those happy grins.  Where would I be without my little Ryder-Pieder?

I am so smart, S-M-R-T!

I recently cleaned out the cupboards underneath our bathroom sinks (first time doing that since we moved here, actually).  And I discovered a bunch of nearly empty bottles of shampoo and conditioner.  I really hate wasting stuff like that, but I never feel like I can get the very last bit out, so I end up buying new ones before the old ones are completely used up, then I get sick of trying to shake out the last bit and throw the bottle under the sink.  Which is a REALLY good way to deal with stuff like that and totally does NOT qualify me as a hoarder in any way. 

So now I'm trying to actually use them all up and throw them away.  Because, you know, just throwing them away be silly.

One shampoo/conditioner set that I found is Victoria's Secret's So Sexy shampoo.  I love this stuff.  It smells soo good.  And it brought back memories of when I was in grad school and had just met Craig and my friend Kristinia persuaded me to buy it.  (Now I'm too cheap to splurge on Victoria's Secret shampoo.  How did I have so much money when I was in college???)

So I loved this shampoo, except one thing: the bottles didn't open properly.  They had this helpful sticker explaining that you needed to twist it a quarter-turn, but no matter how much twisting you did, the lid would never come off!  You had to dig your nails into it and literally pry it off, and then jam it back on again.  And who can be bothered to do that while trying to wash your hair?  Later on they changed the lid, and made them so they just flipped open, so I doubt I was the only one who found them impossible.  I assume it was because of the annoying lid that I still had these particular bottles-- they were too much work to ever finish off!

Annoying lid or no, I am in no position to waste perfectly good, expensive, wonderful-smelling shampoo.  So they left their home under the sink and went back into the shower, to be used for special occasions like date night.

And it was in the shower that I read that stupid sticker and realized what it actually said: Remove seal and twist a quarter-turn to open.

Remove seal?  What seal?

You mean that stupid sticker with the worthless instructions? 

I peeled it back and discovered a hole for pouring the shampoo.  Which is opened when you twist the lid, a quarter of a turn.  Easy peasy.

Which begs the question: for all my being in grad school and working on my thesis, was I really that dumb nine years ago?

Cold & Flu Season Has Officially Begun

First Colton had a cold and a fever.  Then Ryder had a cold with a fever.  And while he was fighting that, Colton got pinkeye, too.

And just as they were getting better, we went to New York for Thanksgiving (which was awesome!!!  but that's a story for another blog post!), and now that we're back, they're both sick again.  And then last night, Kendra complained that her ear was hurting, so we're still waiting to see what's going on with her. 

Meanwhile, I'm at that point where all I care about is sleep.  You know what I mean?  Where you wake up plotting for when you can take a nap.  And you go to sleep at night full of dread because you know it's a matter of minutes before one of the kids (and you don't even know which one!) will wake you up and demand that you somehow make their cold less unbearable, although there's really not much you can do for a baby (or toddler, or even yourself) with a cold.  Fluids, try to rest, tylenol if there's a fever, and try to get through it. 

And all I want is sleep.  I nearly cried last night as Craig was dozing off and the baby wouldn't settle down and I knew that there was nothing I could do for him except hold him and hope he found that comforting.  And while I was holding him, Kendra began moaning again.

Oh, but it's miserable.

Part of the Problem

Bentley and Kendra's school classifies itself as a "Walking School," which means that the majority of its student body live close enough that they ought to be able to walk to school, so buses are unnecessary.  And we are among the "too close for the bus" population.  This is fine by me.  I really like walking to school with my kids.  I like the time spent together, I like the fresh air, and I like the exercise.  There are few things more enjoyable than a brisk walk with my kids on an early autumn morning.

Except: when it rains.  Or when we're late getting out the door.  Or when it's bitterly cold.  Or when my stay-at-home-boys are sick, like today.

On these days, we forgo the walking and simply drive. 

And as you can imagine, those days happen more often than I'd like to admit.

The problems with driving are manifold.  Getting all the kids in and out of the car can sometimes feel like just as much work as simply walking.  We aren't gone long enough for the car to heat up, so everyone is still cold (and since our car parks in our driveway, on rainy days we're also wet).  But the biggest problem is the actual moment of drop-off.  Because this poor school was never designed to have so many cars filing into the meager parking lot with their kids, so the place turns into one mess after another.

It really is a disaster.  Just getting into the parking lot is an exercise in gridlock, causing me to frequently drive very strange ways to the school in hopes of claiming the right of way for a few of the turns.  On one soaking wet morning (it was when my parents were here) it took us 15 minutes just to move 200 feet into the parking lot!  That's how long the 1/2-mile walk takes!  (And yes, the kids were totally late for school that day.  But so was everyone else, so no one got in trouble for it.)

Once you're in the parking lot, it doesn't get a whole lot better.  There's one long curb where everyone drops their kids off, but despite the safety patrol kids waving you forward, no one seems to know just when to let their kids out of the car.  And everyone's kids take different amounts of time to undo their seatbelts and actually get out of their cars, so it's a confusing mess.  My kids are particularly slow, actually, but since they're both sitting in the back of the van, and their only way to get out is to either go out the front passenger door or to crawl under Colton's baby carrier as they scramble out of the sliding door, I can't really blame them.  But what ends up happening is that some people pull up and sit while their kids get out, some people stop in the middle of the whole curb and block everyone else, and people like me tell their kids to get out of the car, only to realize that all the cars are moving forward and now I'm the one blocking the whole business!  Occasionally people will try to pull around the slow cars, but that just makes things even more confusing-- one person pulled around me in a huff and then parked right in front of me to let their kids out, rather than pulling all the way to the front of the curb.  And of course, by the time they did this, Bentley and Kendra had finally extricated themselves from my car, so I promptly had to just pull back in front of this guy!

So, yeah, it's a mess.  And I don't mean this in a snotty, "This would be fixed if everyone did it my way" sort of way, because I'm as much a part of the problem as anyone.

This morning, as the kids were getting out, they accidentally knocked Bentley's soccer ball out of the car, and of course it rolled under the van.  I put on my flashers and climbed out to look, hoping the ball would be within my reach, but no luck.  I had to pull forward six feet and then climb out once again so I could grab that ball.  All this was within minutes of the tardy bell ringing, so everyone was frantically trying to get around me and drop their own kids off on time .  (I'm sorry, everyone!  Really, I am!)  As soon as I was safely back in my car, I got stuck behind someone else letting their kids out (in the middle of the curb), and some woman who had pulled to the side for no reason that I could discern.  As I tried to scoot between them, she immediately jerked her car forward, and then acted annoyed with me when I tried to wave her forward (and out of my way).  I have no idea what she thought she was doing.

Maybe there was a soccer ball stuck underneath her car, too.

I love walking my kids to school.  But I still think longingly about just putting them on the bus, too...

My New Job Title

So it's Saturday morning, and I'm sitting around in my bathrobe, looking up books on the library's website.  I feel that this is a great way to spend a Saturday morning.  Or any morning, really.  Craig is getting ready to take a piece of furniture to the dump, so I offer to get dressed and help him load it into the van.  And Craig looks right at me and says "Do you still wear clothes?  Is that still a 'thing' for you?"!!!!!!!


Which made me think of this:



If I weren't laughing so hard, that might have hurt my feelings!

Seriously, though, he's not even wrong.  This last week, Colton was sick and all but stopped nursing (I think he was too congested to be able to breathe while nursing).  Which meant that suddenly I had hardly any milk for him-- curse these laws of supply and demand that my body follows!  So I've been working to bring my supply back up by nursing as frequently as possible (and drinking water like crazy).  Because I  really didn't want to have to start buying formula!

So, yeah, "getting dressed" has sort of felt "optional" all week. 

But the good news-- and probably TMI-- is that Colton's diaper was really wet this morning, so I think it's working! 


This Stay In Bed Mom just saved herself a boatload of money! 

Colors of the Wind (Just Kidding)

I have a new game I like to play.  While driving around town, I stare at the autumn leaves and try to figure out what they look like.  It started with this beauty just around the corner from my house:

Doesn't that possess all the same colors that you'd find in a perfectly ripe Georgia peach???  I love it.

This game led to the following weird conversation with Craig:

Me: Ooh, look!  That tree looks just like a mango!
Craig: I'm pretty sure there aren't any mango trees in Virginia.  (Pause.)  Unless they're annuals...


Once he understood me, he agreed that it definitely had the proper green-yellow-red ratio of leaves to make it look like a mango.  I've also seen a few pumpkin trees, fuji apples, jonagold apples, and some Rainier cherries.  All were perfectly lovely, although I do think the peach tree is my very favorite.

I feel like I'm trying to save up enough color to get me through the winter...

Personality Counts for a Lot Around Here

We have a sprawling, enormous, overgrown mess of a tree right next to our driveway which perfectly straddles the property line between us and our neighbor.  I think this meant that no one was ever sure who owned the tree, so nothing was ever done about pruning it and making it grow properly (not that I know anything about that-- I don't recall anyone ever pruning trees in Seattle).  We can't go a week in the summer without some tree business stopping by and offering a free estimate.  They never say out-right if they think we ought to cut it down or attempt to prune it into shape, but my guess would be the former.  My father-in-law informed us that it's a "swamp maple" (I have no idea what that means or why it's not good enough to be a regular maple tree). 
 

Lopsided loveliness, dwarfing our van right there...  And that picture was taken today, so you can see that I'm not exaggerating about it staying green!

But regardless of how ridiculous this tree might look, I sort of love it.  Because it just has so much personality.  It's got several huge limbs sprouting out in various directions and low enough that it's only a matter of time before the kids figure out they can climb it.  It's got a very obvious squirrel nest in the middle of it, and a hornet's nest so high up that it hasn't actually bothered us yet, although in matching with the rest of the tree, it's pretty ugly: 

There's the hive, at least 50 feet up

 And best of all, every autumn it stays green later than any other tree, until, in a fit of procrastination-catch-up, it turns yellow and drops all of its leaves all over our car in a matter of days, which is of course how it came to be called the Whomping Willow, despite the fact that it is a (swamp) maple.  It's kind of awful if you're the one raking the leaves.  But since that's Craig's job (and since I let him buy himself the awesomest leaf blower ever), it's mostly just hilarious.

I love my funny Whomping Willow.