Just Dance 3

I just lost to a 7 year old. With a 5 year old commentator: "Mommy!!!" (laugh laugh laugh) "You have to move your FEET, Mommy, your FEET!" (laugh laugh laugh) "Now your bottom is going up and down and up and down!" (laugh laugh laugh)

Matt and Becky knew just how good this was going to be when they gave their very generous Christmas gift to all of us. We've been honoring them by playing it pretty much every day. :)

"Everybody dance now!"

Aspirations & Motivations

While Evelyn had a play date with a friend this afternoon, I took Amelia to Dunkin' Donuts to have some special time together. While she was eating her ice cream cone (she INSISTED that she wanted ice cream--and I said yes.:), I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. In the past, she's wanted to be a teacher, but today, she replied, "A doctor."

"Really? What makes you want to be a doctor?"

"Money."

Hmmmmm....my five year old...hmmmmm....I'll be re-reading I Timothy 6 this weekend...

Thank you, Alan!

He figured out how to get my posting back to normal. It makes no difference on how it LOOKS, but wow does it make a difference while posting. And besides fixing my blog ailments, Alan cooked a batch of great cookies this week...AND cleaned up the kitchen afterwards. Yes. A good man.

So today I took the girls for a play date to my friend, Janie's house. Amelia and her son, George, were classmates in pre-school. Amelia was IN LOVE with Janie's youngest, Maggie, who is one. Amelia was carrying her around relentlessly, and I said to her, "Amelia, if Maggie starts to cry or wiggle to get down, what should you do?"

Her reply? (Right in front of Janie, of course,)"Drop her."

Those are such great parental moments. Fortunately Janie has a good sense of humor. And a mother of four. I think she'll still invite us back.

New blog format driving me crazy!!

Can I just say that blogger changed the way one posts and I can no longer figure out how to create PARAGRAPHS. I miss paragraphs. Now I'm going to have to edit myself. WHILE writing, because another thing I cannot figure out how to do is go back and edit previous posts. Ugh.

Where's My Quiet January?

I'm going to have to have it in short bursts. Like this Saturday when Becky comes to visit with cousin Casey. We have absolutely nothing on the calendar. Very nice. The basement has not changed since the last post. The first floor, however, is so nice. I used WAY more than one hour taking care of it Saturday night. And I'm still paying for it. When am I going to learn that I can no longer stay up until 3 am and shake it off? To top it all off, Alan and I borrowed Season 1 of "Downton Abbey" from my parents. Now my head spins with Edwardian British class culture subtleties (and not so subtle-ties) and all these incredible characters. As soon as I find someone to loathe he or she does something somehow redeeming or makes me pity him. It's wonderfully human. But that's not helping me go to bed early. At all. It does, however, make for nice moments snuggling with my husband on the sofa in our newly-arranged and tidy living room. Gotta love a man who enjoys Downton Abbey. One of the ways my husband reminds me of my dad. That's such a nice thing.

The Battle of the Stuff!

I'm not sure it was a wise choice to start cleaning out the basement before putting the Christmas decorations away. Usually I'm a fan of keeping the Christmas stuff up until about Super Bowl, but this year for some reason I am feeling ready sooner. Problem is, I need at least TWO areas of my house that are sanctuaries (or where "sanctuary-ness" can be restored in 10 minutes of quick straightening), and right now there is hardly a sanctuary to be had around here. Even the floor of my precious library has become a dollhouse campground. So I've got to stop blogging and get to work. I'm going to give myself an hour to make some sense of the first floor. I'll resist the urge to start putting Christmas things away. That--not including the tree--is a solid two hour process, and I only have one good hour left in me tonight. At some point I will reminisce about December, with its myriad of concerts and family gatherings, and about Christmas in VA Beach and New Year's Eve playing cards with Shelley while trying desperately (like the trio of pretty much middle-aged people that we are!) to stay awake until midnight. Finally, I announce the birth of our newest little cousin: Shelley's sister Stacey and her husband, Brad, (introduced here before), had their little girl, Ryan, last night! Mother and baby are doing well--more details to follow as we hear!

What Evelyn is Learning from C.S. Lewis

(I'm so behind in posting, which is probably why I continue to procrastinate on posting. So I will just post and catch up later! All of December is still on the camera--and it was a great month!) So this week, when Alan told Evelyn and Amelia they could not have something they were asking for, Evelyn scowled and said, "Daddy is such a soft blanket!!" It took me a few seconds to realize she was attempting to pull a metaphor out of "The Silver Chair," where Eustace barks that Puddleglum's habit of always seeing the potential negatives in every situation makes him "a wet blanket." The girls and I had discussed what this meant--that if you wrapped a wet blanket around yourself it would not warm you or feel good, and if you threw that wet blanket on your campfire, it would put it out. In Daddy's (and all accused "wet blankets'") defense, a wet blanket is exactly what you would want if your house caught on fire and you had to run out in the flames. You'd want nothing more than to wrap yourself in it to run to safety. And, as it turns out, Puddleglum is "The Silver Chair's" unlikely hero.