'tis the Season

You know it's almost Christmas when...

... the Spider-man figurine has new playmates, in the form of a Little People Joseph, a Veggie Tales BabyJesus/Carrot, and a an elf named Buddy.

... my immobile 6-month-old has glitter flecks all over his fuzzy head, and I have no idea where they came from.

... his older brother stomps around the house, singing We Wish You 'Another' Christmas at the top of his lungs for hours at a time.

... knocks on the door in the early evening prompt excited rushes to retrieve packages, rather than irritated grumblings at the imposter who dares to wake the baby.

... a fellow preschool mother laughingly tells me that she's hearing all about our elf, and that Parks has told her daughter not to worry, that an elf will come to her house soon, too.

... swords of different types -one for a soldier, and the other for a pirate- have been created out of two very festive rolls of wrapping paper.

... the highlight of the day comes not from being surprised by finding an episode of Curious George on PBS, but by finding one or more Christmas cards in the mailbox.

... the rare nighttime drive transforms usually tired, whiny kids into ones filled with wonder at the twinkling lights and glowing Santas from the formerly darkened yards of neighbors.

... a sweet, 3-year-old heart is near to bursting at the magic -currently at its finest- that fills the air, and...

... his mother's heart is near to bursting at the magic of watching it all, and being able to once more view the enchantment of the season through the eyes of a believing child.

desperation

I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon.

I am super excited.

It's nothing major, just an ol' eyesight check.

Perhaps my most irrational and shamefully selfish pet peeve of the moment is when Cal comes home from work after a long day (both mine and his) and says, casually, as he's walking straight to the bathroom from the door, "I'm gonna take a quick shower!"

I understand that he wants to wash the grime of the day off, and it makes perfect sense.

But, you see, on most of those afternoons, I haven't had a chance for a "quick shower" in two more more DAYS. Yes, folks. I admit it. My children's schedules don't always allow me to clean myself on a daily basis, unless, of course, I were to get up extra early (say, 5:30 instead of 6... or heck, why not just stay up after John's 4:15 am bottle?). And let's face it; I'm not gonna do that.

So back to my appointment.

I might take a book! Or just sit and relish the quiet! Or... gasp!... I might go relieve myself, BY myself. And without having to preface it with the ever-informative and sophisticated phrase, "I need to tee tee/go potty; I'll be right back!"

Ahhhh. T'will be a blissful vacation. Watch the mail for a postcard!

in short

• My sister, Beth, gave me her old iPhone, and, although I don't have any sort of data plan that goes along with it, I can use it with wi-fi or for games and other non-Internet apps. I have fast become addicted to some game that requires the player to get water to an alligator so that he can take a shower in the depths of some city sewer system or something. Ironically, Parks is addicted to it, too. Today's rest time found him lying next to me, very closely, on the bed, trying to instruct me on how to finish a particular level.
• Parks has also taken to getting up in the wee hours of the morning, traipsing into our room, and asking 1) is it time to get up?, 2) can I play your iPhone?, and finally 3) can I sleep with you? Usually we are so exhausted that anything involving a quick resolution sounds like the best option at the time. In other words, usually he ends up in our bed. A friend of mine wrote on her blog that "they won't want to sleep with you forever," and that has stuck with me. I'm trying to enjoy moments like these with the boys more, rather than worrying about what I should do, or what ramifications my actions (ie, letting the 3-year-old sleep in our bed without much protest) might have for the future. It's the same with John, and I'm learning to enjoy his middle-of-the-night cuddles much more than I ever did the first time around, when I was consumed with how my attention at that time of the night would affect Parks' future ability to sleep. Obviously, whatever I did then failed, so why bother?
• That said, Parks had a little cold earlier this week and had to miss Monday and Tuesday of school. I thought the days would never end. Maybe it was the time change? I don't know, but I could've sworn it was 4 in the afternoon and almost time for Cal to get home when I looked at my phone and it was barely 9 am. Sheesh.
• We watched a heck of a lot of PBS kids and played a heck of a lot of the alligator iPhone game those days. Judge away.
• The other night, in the middle of the night, Parks was in our bed and he said, out of the blue (and while we were dead asleep), "Mommy. Daddy. When can I get a nutcracker? Like one that we saw at the United States?" um, okay. How do you respond to that at 4:17 in the morning?
• We had had the nutcracker conversation earlier that day. "Mommy. What was that thing that Ninny had, that man that Ninny had, at Christmas? That man that Ninny had at Christmas that liked peanuts?" Credit to me, please, for knowing immediately what he was talking about.
• Last night, again in the middle of the night, Parks said, "Daddy. When is it going to snow?" Cal muttered something incoherent, and Parks responded, "I know! It will snow after December." I really wonder sometimes what is going on in that kid's head when he's supposed to be sleeping.
• John has gotten two teeth in the last month. Hard to believe that he'll be six months old on Wednesday. Seriously, where did the time go? P's first 6 months seemed more like 6 years.
• Cal tried to correct Parks the other day when he said "Lou" instead of "You." I glared at Cal and he stopped. Yet another something that I'm trying to enjoy while it's here rather than wish (or correct) it away. He won't go to college, still asking us, "Can I sleep with lou?" And that thought makes me kinda sad.
• My honey is a bit of a celebrity, these days! Read this, if you haven't already.
• I survived my snack-duty week at preschool. I brought my goods to the teacher that Monday, and she said "Bless your heart!" like I had done too much or something. How am I to know? Since Parks doesn't eat, I haven't a clue what a normal snack amount is for an average 3-year-old. And for an average of 10 kids per day for 5 days, that's 50 snacks! Oh well. It's done. Better to go overboard than not do enough, right?
• Add unfolded laundry to the un-emptied dishwasher phenomenon.
• I am SO TIRED. I think that if I had the opportunity, I could sleep for at least 72 hours straight without even rolling over. One of these days, Cal will come home from work and I'll have checked myself into a hotel down the street for the night. You think I'm kidding. I even briefly wondered last week if I could be pregnant again... but I'm not. Phew. 
• I haven't been alone in my house since May 12, when I was on an all-too-brief bout of bed rest right before John was born two days later. See point above, and nod your head as it all starts to come together.

and again, oh dear.

It's my week for preschool snacks. Nice.

Our world's-worst-junk-drawer is finally about to lose one of its many, varied items. Shug pushed some spider cupcake papers on me about, um, three years ago? that have yet to be put to use. And my week very conveniently coincides with Halloween (also a perk because Wednesday's class party -not done by me- takes away one of my responsibilities), so we'll be digging those suckers out of the depths. Three of the fourteen over-ripe bananas in my fridge will be put to use for banana muffins (no nuts, of course).

Thankfully, also, I have the "Letter G" week. Grapes, Goldfish, Graham Crackers... can you think of anything else? Godiva chocolates? Oh wait. Those are for me.

oh dear.

This weekend, my mom, my dad, my sister, my brother-in-law, and my second cousin (first cousin once removed?) are coming to Macon for a wedding.

This, my friends, is what folks like me (ie, housewives who don't cook and rarely clean) call a serious crisis situation. It's why I live 150 miles from my nearest relatives and do my best not to make a whole lot of friends. Significantly cuts down on drop-ins, you know.

My amazing younger sisters would have breakfast casseroles, fruit salads, homemade cinnamon rolls and blueberry crumble spread out on every surface that wasn't already taken up by the fine china and sterling silver for Sunday morning. My amazing older sister would treat everyone to lunch at Macon's equivalent of the St. Pete Yacht Club on Saturday afternoon.

I just emailed my cousin and told her to pick up a sandwich before she comes to visit.

Oh, well. At least my kids are pretty cute, and at least one of them is well-behaved. That's all I got, people, and it'll have to do.

and so goes the whole day*

7:14 am -- Mommy! John smells like something yummy!

7:16 am -- Mommy! John still smells yummy! Like fruit!

7:22 am -- Mommy! Can I play in John's exersaucer?

7:24 am -- Mommy! Will you feed me my yogurt?

7:28 am -- Mommy! Why do my toes smell bad?

7:32 am -- Mommy! Why is Goliath so big? He must've eaten a lot lot lot lot lot lot lot of chicken.

7:34 am -- Mommy! Have you ever seen a green spider man?

7:42 am -- Mommy! Why do trains say "choo choo" and not "beep beep"?

7:48 am -- Mommy! When am I going to be like the real spider man?

7:51 am -- Mommy! When am I going to be able to shoot a web with my hands?

7:52 am -- Mommy! I can ask Daddy when he gets home! He'll know the answer.

Better start thinking, Cal.

*all of the above are actual conversations that Parks and I had within a one-hour span of time this morning, and these are merely the ones that I can recall offhand.

in an effort to practice what I post.

But seriously, isn't this what you really want to see?

And just for kicks...