Eleven

Originally, we'd planned to leave somewhat early today to visit my in-laws and celebrate his eleventh birthday at his grandparents house in Dallas. Instead, we decided to keep it low key, stay home at least another day, and celebrate by hanging out and playing with our Christmas presents some more. He didn't mind this idea at all.

He woke up this morning and came downstairs to be greeted by most of us, already awake, wishing him a "Happy Birthday!" This made his newly eleven-year-old heart very happy and satisfied. He spent the day playing with friends, outside, using his new Nerf guns, playing football with his new football gloves, wearing his new clothes from Christmas, laughing, living, happy.

He asked if he could run with me today. For his birthday. Just like we always run, he rides his bike alongside me, but he specifically asked to do it today, with me, for his birthday.

As we ran, he told me how this was his "best birthday ever." How everyone has said "Happy Birthday" to him, and how special it is, even if we didn't do anything out of the ordinary.

He's that type of kid, the one that finds the beautiful in everything, even the little, "insignificant" things. He's the child that appreciates the thought, and not just the gift. The one who loves actions more than words, and one who makes me very proud to be his mother.

Today, he's celebrating eleven years on this Earth.

As his dad is in the kitchen, proudly preparing from-scratch cake with which I will hand-decorate a Pittsburgh Steelers symbol on later, I am here, reminiscing looking at his pictures, prouder than I've ever been at the young man he's becoming.

Happy Birthday, my beautiful boy.

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A Christmas Wish

He's bowling the several barrels of wrapping paper down around him, banging them together, giggling as he whacks things to and fro. I watch, fixated by his playfulness. He has no idea what these rolls of decorated paper are for, what will be beneath them tomorrow as he shreds his way to find fortunes and unending smiles. How lucky he is, how lucky we are to have him, sitting here, healthy, happy. Blessed.

I'm peeking from behind the corner of a basket that sits up high on my desk, looking at my toddler eating her "skettis" like a big girl, except she wipes her mouth on her pink Dora sweatshirt as she chews and chews and chews as she draws at the table. The tears undulate in my eyes, trickling across my cheeks as I heave and sob silently, thanking God and fate that we are so very blessed, and that my almost-four-year-old (along with her siblings) are fed well, clothed warmly, and aren't without anything they need.

I often think of those who aren't as fortunate, aren't as lucky as we are, and my heart aches and bleeds for them every night, but especially tonight, Christmas Eve, as they prepare for an empty holiday tomorrow. I wish I could help them ALL, if only I had eleventy-kajillion arms to cook and wrap and sweep them under my hugs to help ease their pain and suffering, if not for good, only for a day, or two. I wish I could adopt each family, bring them all holiday treats and wrapped packages and some comfort, something, anything.

I will never forget how blessed we are, and never forget to give to those who aren't as fortunate. They are and continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. And until then, until a day I can magically help them all, I will continue to help those I can help, those within my grasp, and encourage my children to always do the same.

Tomorrow, as we wipe the slumber from our weary eyes to attempt to awaken enough to match our children's celebratory calls to meet them downstairs, and as they feast their eyes on the treasures beneath our tree and treasures upon our dinner table, I will count my many blessings, celebrate with my children, but silently wish everyone could do the same.

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Our Homemade Christmas Tree

Over the years, we've accumulated many of our children's crafts, as well as made it a family tradition to get each family member a commemorative ornament for that year. For example, it's my son's first year in band? His ornament is a musical note this year.

On top of what the children make at school with their school pictures and teachers, or pine cones from our yard we sprinkled glittery on, clothespin and Popsicle-stick reindeer, coffee-filter angels, whether they are crafts made with grandma or with us at home, we've collected quite an eclectic collection of homemade ornaments for our tree, that each year spent putting them on our tree makes me happier than the last. We relive each year, each memory, as we place these cherished ornaments on our tree.

"Look! It's your baby picture!"
"Look! This is your ornament from that vacation three years ago!"
"Look at how much you've changed from kindergarten to now!"

Our tree twinkles differently with these homemade ornaments on them, and not because we now have LED lights on it, but because the tree, I feel, is as proud of the memories that sit upon its branches as we are in putting them on it.

I recall first buying my very own Christmas tree. When you first start out and are single, there are no children, no crafts, no memories made just yet. It's store-bought balls and matchy-matchy decorative ornaments and a tree that resembles a department store's display, too new and shiny and with no individuality.

There is nothing store-display-esque about ours today. It is magnificently hand-crafted with all of our family's adventures, one-hundred and fifty percent us, topped with a bow on top to represent the present this tree, our memories, and this holiday is to us. A gift in it's own right.

And other than having to constantly watch my youngest like a hawk to ensure they all remain on the tree unscathed? I wouldn't have it any other way.

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Virtual Holiday "Roast" of Collective Bias Member Nicole Rosen of FinanceDiva.com

Twas the months before Christmas, when all through the wallet
Not a penny was wasted, not even out of pocket.
The purses were hung by the laptop with care,
In hopes that The Finance Diva soon would be there.

The parents were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of savings bonds danced in their heads.
And momma with her calculator, hovered over the computer,
Had tried balancing our check book for the upcoming tax year.

When out in the driveway there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to shining objects below.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But Nicole Rosen and her bookkeeping skills are here!

With a little old skip in her step, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be Mrs. Nic.
More rapid than eagles her credit building skills thus came,
And she whistled, and shouted, and called all her talents by name!

"I do Tax Prep! And Credit Repair! And always, Refinance Review!
I love Loan Audits! And Bookkeeping! Also Business Credit Building a new!
To the top of the bank! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away debt for y'all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with a tax obstacle, mouning to the sky.
So up to the debt-top the Finance Diva she flew,
With the purse full of money, a calculator, and Mrs. Nic, too.

And then, in an instant, I heard on the step
The preparation and number crunching of The Diva had crept.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
In the door Mrs Nic came with a large money mound.

She was dressed all in a suit, from her head to her foot,
And her clothes were all steamed nicely and covered in loot.
A bundle of money she had flung on her back,
She looked just like Santa Claus, opening her money-saving pack.

Her eyes-how they twinkled! Her dimples how merry!
Her cheeks were like roses, her nose like a cherry!
Her pretty lipstick mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the twinkle in her eye was as white as the snow.

The end of a pen cap she held tight in her teeth,
And the bun in her hair circled her head like a wreath.
She had a determined face, so committed and steady,
She shook as she laughed, so excited, and ready!

She was eager to help, a right jolly old tax elf,
And I laughed when I saw her, in spite of myself!
A wink of her eye and a twist of the hair on her head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,
And balanced all my tax books, then turned 'round with a jerk.
And laying her finger aside of her nose,
And giving a nod, up from the desk she rose!

She sprang to her car, to us she gave a whistle,
And away she did drove like the down of a thistle.
But I heard her exclaim, ‘ere she drove out of sight,
"Happy Holiday Tax Prep to all, and to all a good-night!"


More about our roasted blogebrity, Nicole Rosen. Also known as The Finance Diva, Nicole is a military wife, mom to two, and self-taught financial guru. She has spent the past several years in the role of CFO of her family. Her credentials include passing Washington State DFI’s Loan Originator test, managing a tax office for two years, preparing taxes for other people for seven years, being registered with the IRS and State of New York as a tax preparer, and repairing her credit in order to purchase their first family home. Nicole has been self-employed since March of 2003 with her first taste of finances at the age of 15 when she ran a roadside watermelon stand in Oklahoma. Nicole has managed the books/recordkeeping for the family business for over 10 years. She sure knows her stuff.

Why not friend her on Facebook or follow her on Twitter. 

Nicole and family, summer 2009

I was more than happy to participate in Collective Bias' Holiday Roast, to not only help showcase another CB member, but get into the holiday spirit creatively. To see all the Collective Bias roasted members, visit Jerri Ann's post, and to see my "roast", visit Chris' blog post at Dad of Divas. He made my day!

"Happy Holidays to all, and to all, a good night!"

{Giggle}


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DIY Christmas Centerpieces (Budget Friendly)

We pared down a lot this holiday, to include our holiday decor that hadn't lasted the years. This left our table bare, and me scrambling for what to put there that was (seemingly*) kid safe.

After weaving in and out of Target's aisles, I saw some beautiful items, but that either seemed a) too pricy b) too dangerous (I envisioned kids getting knocked out cold from iron reindeer throwing games) c) not my style.

A friend sent me a few links to create my own centerpieces, and it inspired me to get off my butt, dig out my creativity, and go grab some ingredients to concoct something magical. This is what I found at our local Walmart:

What do you think? I love it! That tree in the basket is a live tree called "Norfolk Pine" for $5. (Isn't it sweet?) (That basket is mine, and it fit perfectly inside!) The red tinsel tree in the center was $6 and the last one they had! {Whew!} And that gift in the back? That was FREE! It was part of a display they no longer needed, I found it in the trash can, and they said I could have it!

This vase is called the "Sidney Vase" and was $10, my most "expensive" item. The ball ornaments came in a tube of 4 each, in each color (gold, red and green) and was only $1 each. I purchased six but only needed 5 to fill it. I popped off the ornament clasp on each ornament, and staggered the colors.

This vase is called the "Poppy Vase" and was only $6! Each floral pick was only $1, $2 or $3 each. I used a Holly Bush, Velvet Poinsettia, a Glittery Fir and a couple other Holly picks with sparkles and berries on them. To mask the stems I cut with a wire-cutter in the vase, I used two $1 red sparkle curling ribbons (the kind to put on gifts and make bows with). (Also, that gold sled is something I already owned. I placed a wayward poinsettia flower and votive candle in it.)

Total spent? $38! Wow!! What do you think?? Do you create your own decorations when you can't find what you want?

(P.S. I shared our homemade Christmas tree! Come see!)

(*P.P.S. "Seemingly" kid-safe because the present has been "opened" a couple times from a few excited children. Ahem.)

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Utter and Complete Insanity

My husband has been stuck in a 8-5 course since last Monday. For two weeks, he's been attending this Sexual Abuse Prevention course (yes, not class, as he'll become certified in some God-forsaken thing when all's said and done) that couldn't have been scheduled at a worse time. Just before Christmas. The last two weeks of school. Christmas plays, band concerts, social studies fairs, class parties, special meals at school, yadda-yadda-yadda.

To say I want to kick someone's ass for this ridiculousness is an understatement. "Hey, let's send the guy with SIX FREAKIN' KIDS to a two-week long class, and let his wife flail around like an idiot for two weeks by herself, bouncing from school-to-school, function-to-function like a yo-yo."

Tomorrow is yet another one of those days - I have to make eighteen (18!!) children pancakes for my first-graders class, with syrup, drop those off, take pictures of their pajama party, to turn around and run to my older children's fifth-grade celebrations, take pictures, attend their Christmas performance in which they sing "Mele Kalikimaka" in Hawaiian shirts, eat pizza, and generally spazz out on their last day of school.

"Oh, and mom? I need chips and dip for this class, and drinks for this class. And a snack for this class. We're having five parties tomorrow," so-sayeth my teenager tonight, in "preparation" for tomorrow. Now I get to go out and get those things. Why couldn't they have told us sooner??

Doing all of this with two strong-willed toddlers in tow, who probably won't nap and will wreak havoc. All while feeling under the weather.

This is, by far, way harder than it was when my husband was deployed. I had just given birth to our fourth child back then. We now have six. Back then we only had one child in school. Now we have four attending school. With events and things and sports and crafts and lists and homework and demands and ARGH! {stress headache forming}

What's worse, is because he's been in class these last two weeks of school, we have absolutely no time to go shopping without all the children in tow. I depend upon school-time to go Christmas shopping - generally work is slow, people are on leave, he gets extra time off, so we get to sneak in that all-important shopping time.

I mean, for crying out loud, I haven't even finished decorating the tree yet! Not a single speck of holiday decor is up. (And it's usually up in November, because I love this holiday so much.) I am so behind, it isn't even funny. This house is a wreck. I can't catch my breath.

I am doing my best to put on the "mom face" and suck it up, because I enjoy seeing my children perform, having lunch with them at school, and doing all the wonderful holiday things their teachers have to offer, but having to do it all-day, every day, all by myself is just plain tiring. Exhausting. Utter and complete insanity.

Can I haz a nap now? {end rant, I promise}

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First Band Concert and Celebrating "The Firsts"

The day he was to "try out" to get into band, he was unfortunately sick. In fact, he forced himself to go to school that morning, specifically to try out, but by lunch he just wasn't alright. "Mom, I need to come home. I will miss out on trying out for the trumpet."

My heart broke in eighty-kajillion pieces, hearing my son so defeated, wanting so badly to try out that day, but unable to. The friday prior, him and a few others had performed the proper sound with the mouthpiece to be able to even try out to begin with. The band director was expecting him to try out. Neither one of us even considered that he'd become sick.

When I arrived at school, I explained the situation and pleaded with the secretary to let me speak to the band director on his behalf. I had hoped, maybe, my son could try out when he felt well. I knew try-outs were happening right then, but maybe he could give him a day or two? They put me through to his office, and I spoke with this very southern-accented man who said he'd pray for my son's well-being, and he was more than welcome to try out when he was well again.

Two days later, he came home celebrating. "I made it! I made it, mom! I'm gonna be a trumpet player!"

My heart burst with happiness - he'd done it! I was so proud of him. Thus begun a love of playing music within him - he'd always loved singing and listening to music. Now he's playing it, too.

Monday night was his first "concert" - a collection of three, very simple Christmas-type songs that had very few notes and easy to perform. You could definitely tell the band had a lot of new-to-music instrument players playing their hardest. My daughter showed me their concert booklet, and much to my surprise, my son had a solo in the second song. Oh my gosh!

His "big" solo

"I was so nervous, mom. I had butterflies."

"You did wonderful, baby. You can watch yourself when we get home!"

I had caught it all on video (thank goodness for tripods) while I snapped away pictures, cementing into our family's history and memory his first time playing in a band, and his first musical solo.

As they get older, there aren't a ton of firsts as when they're small, so when they occur, it's got to be a huge celebration - first tooth lost, first bike-ride on two wheels, first book read, first speech and social studies fair, and now, this.

Life is just too damn good to not fill it with celebration, don't you think?

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Steelers + Christmas Fun + Hot Cocoa = Magic

Steelers game on deck? Check.
Jingle Jam holiday celebration on post? Check.
Surprise hot cocoa and chicken nugget tater tot casserole* to warm us up after being in the cold weather? Chiggity check, yo.

Donned in our Steelers best, we piled into the car to attend the "Jingle Jam" on post where FedEx "Trees for Troops" were passing out Christmas trees to our soldiers and the most hilarious tree-loading could be found. Why oh why did I not take pictures of people with trees out their sunroofs, or strapped to the front of their car, in their passenger seat, out the back of their trunk. It was seriously the most hilarious thing to see, one after the next, they got the trees in the car any way they could get 'em for the short trip home.

At the event, we made crafts, nibbled on some sweet treats and had a lot of fun with many other military families, helping us get into the overall spirit of Christmas and the holidays. I loved the decorations Warrior Community Center had up for the holiday, and I have to admit, their Santa was the best Santa I'd ever seen!

After the event, I surprised the kids by purchasing hot cocoa to warm them up afterwards. It was, after all, such a chilly day (after quite a few unseasonably warm days).

Sharing hot cocoa together is so much like a celebration, and I love any excuse to celebrate! We decided to try the new Cold Stone Creamery Hot Cocoa in both milk chocolate and dark chocolate flavors. Really rich and delicious. Unfortunately, it wasn't until afterwards I noticed there was artificial flavoring in it (I had missed it on the label at first glance). However, it didn't affect my children's behavior at all (they normally would "spaz" from the artificial stuff) so thankfully, there must be very, very little in it.

All in all, it was a great day. I look forward to many more moments of togetherness with my kids like this. I love this holiday time, don't you?

*The recipe for Chicken Nugget Tater Tot Casserole recipe is coming, as well as one for a Chicken Nugget Macaroni and Cheese Casserole. Yum!

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'Twas A Good Day

(Preface: Today was one of those hair-on-fire, MACH-10 kind-of days where I bounced around like a pinball between both elementary schools for events, but oh, my heart couldn't keep from bursting into a big, mushy mom puddle of happiness. I splooshed around in it as I watched my first-grader be the center of attention for his part in their Christmas performance, only to finish my busy day watching my children take first and second place in their social studies fair. Like I said, it was a good day.)

---

Happy the Hound Dog

There he stood, center stage, as the entire cast spoke and sang to him. The microphone was as big as he was, as he nervously looked up at his classmates, ignoring the crowd of parents behind him.

He howled his bestest, as was required of him. The cast covered their ears, sang songs about how he didn't fit into their Christmas choir with this off-key howl. He wailed into the microphone how badly he wanted to be a part of it with them. He was the star, and I was a smiling, teary mess.

Eventually, Mrs. Claus convinced Santa and the rest of their friends that he could sing "Deck the Halls" with them, howling the "fa-la-la's". You couldn't help but laugh out loud with joy.

As the play ended, and they took a bow, he looked over at me - video camera on the tripod, snapping away pictures of him as it hung heavily around my neck, toddlers tugging at my pants interrupting. But he smiled slightly, embarrassed and nervous but in that smile was pride of a job well done.

Afterwards, the teacher let them come to us for individual pictures and hugs. Despite wanting a solo picture, all I wanted to do was hold him close and tell him how proud I was of him. He has worked so hard, he'd practically memorized the entire script himself, he knew exactly when to go, and every word to every song, too.

With that smile and personality, I think he's going to be a performer when he grows up, what do you think?
 

Oh yeah.

---

Social Studies Fair Winners

As I entered the gym, it was practically pandemonium. Students from younger grades were weaving in and out of exhibits to take one final look before the awards were announced, but little hands kept roaming onto the exhibit boards, touching in interest. I suddenly had a pit in my stomach, had they touched my children's boards? Were their projects okay? With a sleepy Baby Dude in a wobbly umbrella stroller, I made way through the "S"-shaped snake-path of students to find my daughter's. I was nervous, as we experienced trouble getting her pictures to stay permanently glued to the spray-painted boat to begin with. Thankfully, her Titanic project seemed okay, and her mp3 was still there, too. (She played music the band played as the Titanic sank during her oral presentation.)

But what about my son's project with his best friend? Was it still alright, too? They did their project on the Atomic Bomb and we had two atomic bomb "cloud" models that could be pretty tempting to roaming kids to touch. Thankfully, their's was (mostly) alright, they did mess with the cloud I made, picking at the poofy marshmallowesque surface. Hot glue would be on the menu for that later, that is, if they win and advance to the next round. Gulp.

My son and his friend worked with his friend's mother (our close friend) for this board, isn't it absolutely wonderful? She's so crafty!

As soon as my children entered the gym, they waved and ran to me for hugs. I was so proud of them regardless of the outcome, we all had worked really hard on these projects for several weeks (there were papers, speeches, crafts as well as the project boards). I am ashamed to admit that, at one time, I actually hoped they wouldn't win because of all the issues we'd endured with the teacher's non-communication, misunderstandings, I just wanted the experience to be over and done with, one more thing checked off the list as complete. But as soon as I saw their ecstatic faces and sheer excitement over a job well done, their faces forced that feeling went away. How could I even think that, after all this work we put in? Shame on me!!! I couldn't be a prouder mother!

But then nerves set in as teachers came over the microphone to announce everyone to take a seat. This was it! After all these long weeks and so many participants! They began with the left side of the room, where I was sitting, and I watched, third, second and first place in other categories get announced, wonderful projects and ecstatic kids come skipping to the front as parents snapped pictures and hugged children. "Group C" was next, my daughter's group. Project number 3 in Group C won second place! She won second place!! Ahh!

She walked up near-tears, half in shock, I think. 

Her winning smile posing with the principal

After a few other categories, the last winners to be announced were my son and his friend, the "Group History" category. "Third place goes to...." and "Second place goes to...." and then the doubts set in. Oh my gosh, only first place was left. They had to win first, or they didn't win at all. My heart was in my throat, my camera was ready, and I kept praying silently I'd hear number two called. Please call number two!

"First place goes to, project number two!"

Ahhh! They won first place!

The ran up, hands over their head, like Rocky Balboa winning the SuperBowl. "We won" "Yeah" "We did it" they said as they ran up to get their award from their principal.

Here are my winners with their winning projects!

Later my daughter told me she did almost cry when it was announced she won. "Mom, I feel pride in myself, so proud of my win. Mom, I have you and daddy and (brother) to thank for helping me! Thank you so much!"

(And then mom almost lost it.)

Yessiree, it was a good day. My heart is so full.

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Breakfast for Dinner

Every so often, you've got to do it. You know? Sometimes, it's just gotta happen, when breakfast for dinner is warranted. When I was a kid, it was because we wanted a little celebration, or maybe we forgot to take out dinner in time and were stuck with what to make, and eggs, bacon and toast is pretty quick to prepare. For us, big breakfasts are a feast meant for kings, we go all out. We wanted to eat, and celebrate, and smile. Breakfast - it's what's for dinner.

Old school waffles in a 30+ year old waffler (that made ME waffles when I was a kid)

Homemade Blueberry Muffins with sugar lightly sprinkled on top

Look at them! Can you smell 'em?

Had to zoom in on the sugary goodness on top, just like the bakery! Easy ways to make it even more special! (Is it me, or does that muffin look like it has eyes, and it's sticking it's tongue out?)

Homemade potato pancakes from my old Betty Crocker cookbook from when I was a child. (More oldies but goodies!)

Um, it got a little smoky making them.

Okay, a LOT smoky. It looked like I was burning my house down. Ahem.

All-natural sausage, anyone? (And only 80 calories a link!)

Add some made-to-order eggs, and this breakfast was complete. And, if you play your cards right by making extra, you have a stockpiled, nutritional, ready-to-eat breakfast you can easily reheat for a rushed morning. How about that?

What about you, do you ever do breakfast for dinner?

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Military Housing Woes. Flooded. Again.

On March 4th, several weeks after we'd complained about a leak, Picerne Military Housing finally sent guys out to dig up our front yard to repair a leaky pipe flooding our yard and neighbor's yards down the street. It was quite an issue, because they had to determine what was leaking at first, make sure the concrete did not have asbestos, and then have utility crews to come out and spray-paint our lawn for utility wiring before the crew could come out. After many weeks of a soggy, miserable front lawn, Picerne sent some men out and over the span of a couple days my yard was a destruction zone.

Our house before paint job.

Fast forward to approximately three weeks ago. We suffered a few days of heavy rain. Two days after the rain had long since ceased, we noticed a familiar puddle in our yard. My husband bent over to investigate to find we had, in fact, the same leak again. This time, it was flowing faster and was much, much worse. We immediately called housing.

They investigated right away, but as of today, December 4th, nothing other than spraying of utility lines has been done. We learned that we are not the only side of the street with a leak, our across-the-street neighbors have the same leak, too. No digging to date, and no idea how long they've had theirs or how long it'll take for them to come to repair it.

I documented in the following (crappy camera-phone) video just how fast the flow of water is seeping up from the ground and flowing from our yard to our neighbors. In the video, you can hear a neighbor asking me where it was coming from. His yard was about as soggy as mine.



I am increasingly aggravated with Picerne's lack of action on this and other many issues we've had. I look forward to 6-7 months from now moving away from here, hopefully into better, more cooperative and responsible hands.

I will keep you updated as to what happens.

*UPDATE: 11:29am CT I just went to run the water to wash my hands, and it's turned off. I look outside my window to see the same crane digging up my lawn. They've apparently shut off my water, but decided NOT to knock on my door to FOREWARN ME that they were here or shutting off my water. WHAT.THE.HELL?

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