The stable from the manger scene.
A Santa who reads "Twas the Night Before Christmas" aloud (over and over and over again).
A mini snow globe.
What do these three things have in common? They are all Christmas decorations that have been broken by little hands so far this season. The sad part is our "season" only just begun 24 hours ago. We decorate our house the day after Thanksgiving. I'm thinking perhaps more than just our halls will require some "decking" this year......(just kidding....I wouldn't want Santa to switch me to the naughty list at the last minute).
David and I used to go to a Christmas Tree farm and chop down our own tree. Then we started having kids, and it just got to be too much to bundle them up and work around feeding schedules. We plan to revisit this tradition when the kids get a little older and can all walk around on their own and get excited about picking a Christmas tree for Daddy to chop down....and, yes, we'll continue on through their teenage years and try to ignore the eye rolling accompanied by the pleas of "Do we have to go help pick out the tree?". That will be a sad day. This year we piled the kids in the van sans coats because it was a crazy 65 degrees outside, went to Lowe's Hardware Store and found the perfect tree in 3 minutes flat.
It is so exciting to see Christmas through our childrens' eyes. It brings back that same magical feeling it once did when we were kids ourselves. Since Reese has no concept of time yet, now that all our decorations are up, I'm just sure she's going to wake up every morning from now until Dec. 25th asking, "Is this Christmas Day today?".
It really has been quite humorous listening to the new fights that have been occurring over our decorations and the admonitions that ensue:
"GIVE ME BACK MARY! I WAS PLAYING WITH HER FIRST!".
"GIRLS, WE DON'T THROW BABY JESUS ACROSS THE ROOM!!".
"DRUE, IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE ORNAMENT OFF THAT TREE......" stern parent walks swiftly towards her as she covers her little tushy pleading, "Don't 'pank my bottom."
"REESE, PICK THAT HOOK UP OFF THE FLOOR BEFORE TATE PUTS IT IN HIS MOUTH!"
I'm afraid there'll be no Peace on Earth or Goodwill Towards Men at the Hollaway house this season.....
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving!
Harvest Time has come again
That's how the story goes,
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving
From our 3 little Scarecrows!
That's how the story goes,
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving
From our 3 little Scarecrows!
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Perspective
I've mentioned before about the differences in our attitudes about parenting/child rearing with each child. Crazy- overprotective- overreacting- first- time- parenting vs relaxed- been-there-done-that-they're-not-as-fragile-as-we-thought parenting. One other difference I've noticed during our 3rd go 'round at this is that, while I am truly thankful for my healthy little boy and thrilled that he is developmentally on track......I WISH TIME WOULD SLOW DOWN A LITTLE BIT!!!
I think it must be a case of "Thisisourlastplannedbabywewilleverhaveitis" or something. You would think I'd be prepared for all his milestones and take them in stride. However here are some examples of my reactions to his development thus far:
- I eagerly awaited the day when I could start Reese and Drue on cereal and solid food. Both started cereal at 4 months, then solid foods a few weeks after. Our doctor once again gave me the green light to start Tate on the same regimen at his 4 month appt. At his 6 month appt the doctor asked how it was going and I admitted I hadn't started him on solids yet. I bought the food, but just couldn't bring myself to feed it to him. I wanted to continue to be his only source of nourishment for awhile. (In fact, in my plot to keep him a baby forever, to David's horror I announced to him that I would be nursing Tate until he went to kindergarten.....no offense to you mothers who actually do that, but I was totally kidding about it and actually plan to wean him at about a year).
- A few weeks ago I did a double take when I looked up and Tate was on his hands and knees rocking back and forth. "That's odd," I thought to myself. "The girls didn't crawl until they were at least 7 months. Must be a fluke. He's got at least a month or two before he really gets going." Wrong. He is all over this house now and is only 6 months old. I keep watching him thinking, "He's too little to be doing this. He's just a newborn." With Reese we were shouting on the rooftops when she started crawling rejoicing at her newfound independence. I keep trying to talk Tate out of it, telling him it's much more fun to cuddle with Mommy and have her carry him everywhere in the house.
- Also at his 6 month checkup, the doctor informed me it was about time for a new carseat. He is getting too tall for his carrier. What? Too tall for his carrier? Now I will have to come up with an entirely new gameplan for running errands with the kids because I won't be able to just whisk him out of the van into the cart via his convenient carrying case. When it was time for the girls to graduate to a larger seat, I rushed out that very day and excitedly installed it in the car.
- And instead of eagerly looking forward to the night my sweet little bundle sleeps all the way through, I rather enjoy our midnight meetings together and will be sad when they are no more.
Somewhere deep in my subconcious, I must think that if I don't encourage and give into his natural growth progression patterns (i.e. not feeding him solid foods, being in denial that he is indeed a crawler now) that I can somehow pause the hands of time and enjoy the days of having a baby around the house a little bit longer.
Poor little guy. I promise I won't try and hold you back too much.....you will definitely be potty trained before you start Junior High.
I think it must be a case of "Thisisourlastplannedbabywewilleverhaveitis" or something. You would think I'd be prepared for all his milestones and take them in stride. However here are some examples of my reactions to his development thus far:
- I eagerly awaited the day when I could start Reese and Drue on cereal and solid food. Both started cereal at 4 months, then solid foods a few weeks after. Our doctor once again gave me the green light to start Tate on the same regimen at his 4 month appt. At his 6 month appt the doctor asked how it was going and I admitted I hadn't started him on solids yet. I bought the food, but just couldn't bring myself to feed it to him. I wanted to continue to be his only source of nourishment for awhile. (In fact, in my plot to keep him a baby forever, to David's horror I announced to him that I would be nursing Tate until he went to kindergarten.....no offense to you mothers who actually do that, but I was totally kidding about it and actually plan to wean him at about a year).
- A few weeks ago I did a double take when I looked up and Tate was on his hands and knees rocking back and forth. "That's odd," I thought to myself. "The girls didn't crawl until they were at least 7 months. Must be a fluke. He's got at least a month or two before he really gets going." Wrong. He is all over this house now and is only 6 months old. I keep watching him thinking, "He's too little to be doing this. He's just a newborn." With Reese we were shouting on the rooftops when she started crawling rejoicing at her newfound independence. I keep trying to talk Tate out of it, telling him it's much more fun to cuddle with Mommy and have her carry him everywhere in the house.
- Also at his 6 month checkup, the doctor informed me it was about time for a new carseat. He is getting too tall for his carrier. What? Too tall for his carrier? Now I will have to come up with an entirely new gameplan for running errands with the kids because I won't be able to just whisk him out of the van into the cart via his convenient carrying case. When it was time for the girls to graduate to a larger seat, I rushed out that very day and excitedly installed it in the car.
- And instead of eagerly looking forward to the night my sweet little bundle sleeps all the way through, I rather enjoy our midnight meetings together and will be sad when they are no more.
Somewhere deep in my subconcious, I must think that if I don't encourage and give into his natural growth progression patterns (i.e. not feeding him solid foods, being in denial that he is indeed a crawler now) that I can somehow pause the hands of time and enjoy the days of having a baby around the house a little bit longer.
Poor little guy. I promise I won't try and hold you back too much.....you will definitely be potty trained before you start Junior High.
Monday, November 20, 2006
'Atta Girl
I swear strangers are breaking into our house at night, wearing our clothes, then putting them in our hampers. There is no way my family is going through as many clothes as are needing laundering each week. This weekend was "catch up" weekend on the laundry that had begun to spill out over onto our closet floor.
I did find one surefire way to enlist David's help without asking though. There was a pair of pants that he was wanting to wear, and when he asked where they were I said, "In the washer", (which had finished its' cycle). He quickly took the load of clothes that had been in the dryer up to our room and transferred the washer load and started drying them.
After a busy day and dinner at his moms' house, we returned home and got Drue and Tate down for bed. I piddled around downstairs picking up and at about 10:00p Reese, David, and I headed upstairs for the night. I think you can guess what was hindering me from collapsing into my nice cozy bed.....THE ENTIRE PILE OF CLOTHES DAVID BROUGHT UP EARLIER!
I didn't scream. I didn't shout. I didn't even berate him on the woes I endure as a worn out housewife. I simply said, "Dear, whoever brings the load up....folds the load." I would like to tell you that David saw the error of his ways, ushered me to a nearby chair, propped my tired feet up, and folded the laundry. But that wouldn't make for a funny story.....he went to brush his teeth while Reese offered to help me fold.
Without any prompting from me (honest) Reese said, "Daddy! These aren't magical clothes. These are just regular clothes. They aren't going to fold themselves!".
And you men thought we took a class on Sarcastic Nagging 101.....nope....it's just inate.
I did find one surefire way to enlist David's help without asking though. There was a pair of pants that he was wanting to wear, and when he asked where they were I said, "In the washer", (which had finished its' cycle). He quickly took the load of clothes that had been in the dryer up to our room and transferred the washer load and started drying them.
After a busy day and dinner at his moms' house, we returned home and got Drue and Tate down for bed. I piddled around downstairs picking up and at about 10:00p Reese, David, and I headed upstairs for the night. I think you can guess what was hindering me from collapsing into my nice cozy bed.....THE ENTIRE PILE OF CLOTHES DAVID BROUGHT UP EARLIER!
I didn't scream. I didn't shout. I didn't even berate him on the woes I endure as a worn out housewife. I simply said, "Dear, whoever brings the load up....folds the load." I would like to tell you that David saw the error of his ways, ushered me to a nearby chair, propped my tired feet up, and folded the laundry. But that wouldn't make for a funny story.....he went to brush his teeth while Reese offered to help me fold.
Without any prompting from me (honest) Reese said, "Daddy! These aren't magical clothes. These are just regular clothes. They aren't going to fold themselves!".
And you men thought we took a class on Sarcastic Nagging 101.....nope....it's just inate.
Friday, November 17, 2006
I'll be one busy Grandma......
Reese is always talking about things she'll do when she's a mommy. Today we were on the floor playing with Tate and here is how our conversation went:
Me: "Reese, how many babies do you want when you're a mommy?".
Reese: "78".
Me: "78?!?! How are you going to take care of 78 babies?".
Reese: "I'll say, 'Babies, let's take turns now'. And I'll also call 'Daaaddddyyyy!' because everyone knows there's a daddy around if there's a mommy and he can help me."
Me: "Reese, how many babies do you want when you're a mommy?".
Reese: "78".
Me: "78?!?! How are you going to take care of 78 babies?".
Reese: "I'll say, 'Babies, let's take turns now'. And I'll also call 'Daaaddddyyyy!' because everyone knows there's a daddy around if there's a mommy and he can help me."
Sunday, November 12, 2006
That's the Spirit....(well, not quite)
Our church participates in one of Franklin Grahams' ministries called Operation: Christmas Child. The idea behind it is to fill a shoe box (or similar sized box--we had to buy plastic container boxes because David makes me throw out all shoe boxes and other items I don't have an immediate use for) with small gifts for children living in poverty stricken countries so they will have something to open for Christmas. They are also provided with little booklets in their own language that tell the Gospel message.
This was the first year our family took part. You are supposed to pick a girl or boy and specify what age group your box is intended for (2-4, 5-9, or 10-14). My first question to David was, "How are we going to decide what gender/age to buy for?". He had the great idea to do three boxes, one for each of our kids....and buy for 2 girls and a boy. (Yes dear, you actually have it in writing that I gave you a compliment and admitted that, once in awhile, you really do have a great idea....I may regret this later).
We hope to make this one of our holiday traditions and as our children get older, get them involved by getting to pick out the gifts that go in the shoeboxes. This year, however, I was rushing around at the last minute, and during a solo trip to Target, I just picked out all the gifts myself. When I got home, I dumped them all out on the floor and started separating them into the appropriate box.
Reese happened to be the only child not taking a nap and was quickly lured over my way out of curiosity. Her eyes got wide as she surveyed all the neat little treasures that came out of the bag. David started explaining to her how we were going to send these toys to children who probably wouldn't be getting any other gifts for Christmas this year.
A little while later, as I was wrapping the last box, Reese appeared at the kitchen table where I was working. I again used this opportunity to talk about why we were sending gifts to these children who don't have a nice house to live in, or many clothes to wear, or toys to play with. One of the neat things about getting your gifts together, is that you are supposed to say a prayer for the child who will be receiving your shoebox. I asked Reese if she would like to say a prayer with me.
I went first and asked God to bless the children who'd be receiving our gifts, etc. and then nodded to Reese that it was her turn to pray. She bowed her little head and prayed, "Dear God.....I like sending these gifts to those children.....and I hope that they will send me some gifts also....."
This was the first year our family took part. You are supposed to pick a girl or boy and specify what age group your box is intended for (2-4, 5-9, or 10-14). My first question to David was, "How are we going to decide what gender/age to buy for?". He had the great idea to do three boxes, one for each of our kids....and buy for 2 girls and a boy. (Yes dear, you actually have it in writing that I gave you a compliment and admitted that, once in awhile, you really do have a great idea....I may regret this later).
We hope to make this one of our holiday traditions and as our children get older, get them involved by getting to pick out the gifts that go in the shoeboxes. This year, however, I was rushing around at the last minute, and during a solo trip to Target, I just picked out all the gifts myself. When I got home, I dumped them all out on the floor and started separating them into the appropriate box.
Reese happened to be the only child not taking a nap and was quickly lured over my way out of curiosity. Her eyes got wide as she surveyed all the neat little treasures that came out of the bag. David started explaining to her how we were going to send these toys to children who probably wouldn't be getting any other gifts for Christmas this year.
A little while later, as I was wrapping the last box, Reese appeared at the kitchen table where I was working. I again used this opportunity to talk about why we were sending gifts to these children who don't have a nice house to live in, or many clothes to wear, or toys to play with. One of the neat things about getting your gifts together, is that you are supposed to say a prayer for the child who will be receiving your shoebox. I asked Reese if she would like to say a prayer with me.
I went first and asked God to bless the children who'd be receiving our gifts, etc. and then nodded to Reese that it was her turn to pray. She bowed her little head and prayed, "Dear God.....I like sending these gifts to those children.....and I hope that they will send me some gifts also....."
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Move over Gerber....
One day a week on my days off, I treat the girls (and myself) to lunch from Sonic or McDonalds. It's normally on an errand day and is their prize (aka bribe) for them not causing me to check myself into a looney bin. The routine usually is....run errands, grab lunch, go home and set them up at the kitchen table, turn on Family Feud (I'm actually getting used to the new host....I was sad when Richard Karn was replaced) and nurse Tate while I eat.
Today our culinary delight was from McDonalds. (We got back too late to see Family Feud--BLAST!). I perched my bag up on the arm of the sofa and started nursing Tate. He would eat a little bit, then stop, lift his head up, and stare intently at something....eat, stop, look up, stare intently. What in the world? He usually only does this when the girls are in the room.
After about a full minute of this, he finally stopped one last time, sat himself up on my lap, and reached out with BOTH HANDS towards my quarter pounder, sitting in it's box, apparently beckoning him this whole time!
Poor little guy. I removed the distracting dish to the kitchen, and outta sight outta mind, he contentedly finished his milk. Perhaps it's time to move on to bigger and better things besides rice cereal....
Today our culinary delight was from McDonalds. (We got back too late to see Family Feud--BLAST!). I perched my bag up on the arm of the sofa and started nursing Tate. He would eat a little bit, then stop, lift his head up, and stare intently at something....eat, stop, look up, stare intently. What in the world? He usually only does this when the girls are in the room.
After about a full minute of this, he finally stopped one last time, sat himself up on my lap, and reached out with BOTH HANDS towards my quarter pounder, sitting in it's box, apparently beckoning him this whole time!
Poor little guy. I removed the distracting dish to the kitchen, and outta sight outta mind, he contentedly finished his milk. Perhaps it's time to move on to bigger and better things besides rice cereal....
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