The End

This New Year's Eve went much more smoothly than last year.

Oh sure, the kids were cranky and still coming down off their post-Christmas high. And the house is a wreck because the storage boxes that I'm counting on to organize all our new stuff haven't arrived yet. And we've been eating leftovers for going on four days now, because I tend to over-bake around the holidays.

And that Noon Year's Eve party I promised the kids didn't even come close to happening. All partying took a backseat to keeping everyone content, well-fed, and in one piece. (That last part is critical. That's where we failed last year.)

But we did it. 2012 did not require stitches, which I'm pretty sure was my only New Year's resolution last year. The kids went to bed promptly at 7 p.m. with all fingers properly attached, and the hubby and I celebrated having survived another year of casts, ER visits, pregnancy, a new baby, sleepless nights, sleepy children, homeschooling, and more.

Bring it on, 2013. We're ready for you.

Smarty pants

The children's encyclopedia has a permanent home in Abby's room, and is typically her book of choice for bedtime and afternoon quiet time reading.

Three and a half hours a day spent reading the encyclopedia has made our daughter an expert on a myriad of topics, including how electrical currents work, weather patterns, planets and stars (her favorite subject), insect parts and development, pioneers and vikings, and, most recently, the makeup of the Kuiper belt in outer space. (This last one took me a while to figure out since she was mispronouncing it. But the hubby knew exactly what she meant when she asked, "Do you know there's a band of frozen rocks beyond Pluto called the 'kewper' belt?")

She read all the way to the end of her general encyclopedia and was a little disappointed.

"Mommy, did you know the end of this book is just a big list of words?" she asked me, showing me the index. I guess with all the build-up of interesting new information she'd found on every other page, she was expecting a more exciting conclusion.

We're working on deciding which reference book to buy her next. I'm leaning toward the Improve Your Grammar book, but her dad is pushing for the Illustrated Dictionary of Math.

Maybe we should just let our student pick.

Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?

"Really, mom. The antlers? Again? Does this never get old?"

(Since he can't talk yet, it's left to me to put his thoughts into words.)

And no. The antlers never get old.

Random acts of kindness

Levi was a little unhappy about tummy time, and was doing a decent job voicing his displeasure.

Sensing that he wasn't going to solve his own problems, I headed in his direction with a little toy he loves to see if I could calm him down.

Jacob, seeing the same thing, pried the toy from my fingers and raced toward his little brother yelling his new favorite phrase at the top of his lungs.

"I do! I do!" he shouted, shoving the blanket under Levi's face.

And then, just to make sure he was completely cheered up, he gave Levi a rough hug, and a kiss on top of his head.

"Wuh-vu, Wee-vi," Jacob told him. I love you, Levi.

And just like that, all was well.

These are my favorite moments.

Glory to God in the highest!

Merry Christmas from the Family of Fish!

The six stockings were hung by the chimney with care, the birthday cake for Jesus was ready for His celebration, the presents were piled high beneath the tree we hadn't watered in over a week, and the kids were about to emerge from their rooms.

It was 7:15 Christmas morning, and as I looked at our soon-to-be-chaotic living room, I smiled. My quiver, and my mantel, are full. And I could not wait to celebrate our Savior's birthday with all the precious little ones He's given us.

The day turned out better than I had hoped. We enjoyed a yummy easy breakfast before letting the kids dump their stockings out and inspect their loot--puzzles, slinkies and way too much candy for the 3 oldest, and a little lion for our little Levi to play with and chew on. Then it was into the car and off to deliver cinnamon rolls for the neighbors to enjoy. Next year, we might wait a little later, as we learned that not all of our neighbors are excited to have little kids bearing baked goods ringing their doorbell at 9:00 on Christmas morning. Oops.

Back home again, the kids had to be reminded that they were getting more than just puzzles and candy for Christmas. As soon as they realized all those boxes under the tree had stuff in them, they were ready to roll.

Caleb, ever the sweetie, was our thankful one this year. Every time he found one of his boxes, Abby would read off who it was from and he would thank the giver before he'd even unwrapped the gift. And then he'd hug whoever was closest after it was open.

Jacob was more enthusiastic about the removal of bows and ribbons and wrapping paper than anything else. In true two-year-old fashion, he had no concept of turn taking and no respect for gift ownership. In his mind, everything new was his, every sticker was his to remove, and everything wrapped was his to unwrap. I place on him alone full blame for the fact that we spent most of the afternoon playing a rousing game of "Who Gave Us That?"

Abby, as usual, was diligent about overseeing the proper taking of turns when it came to opening presents. I'm convinced she had a spreadsheet somewhere that she was consulting to keep up with all the presents being opened, but I can't prove it. She both loved and was intensely frustrated with every new thing she got. The labyrinth ball was a great exercise in patience and not being able to solve problems immediately. The miniature pink piano was, to her great dismay, proof that she is no maestro when it comes to tickling the ivories. At naptime, she retreated to her room to master both these skills, mostly to prove us wrong when we told her that she's not going to be great at anything the first time she tries it. And prove us wrong, she will, I'm sure. That's just Abby.

Levi, too, received a few small toys for his first Christmas. A few trucks that he's sharing with his brothers until he's older have been added to his stash, along with some new baby toys that haven't already been chewed on by three previous babies, and a cute little stuffed lion from his mom and dad, because that seems to be the animal we're pushing on this one.

Family stopped by for lunch, and after dinner we had our traditional Happy Birthday Jesus party, complete with peppermint chocolate cake. And in no time at all, the day was over, and the children were nestled all snug in their beds again. It was a blessed day and a great celebration, and all the kids (except for Levi) went to bed humming "Hark the herald angels sing! Glory to the newborn king!" their new favorite Christmas carol. It was a sweet symphony for us to enjoy as they fell asleep and we cleaned up, and a wonderful reminder of what the day was all about.

"Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!

Hail the Son of Righteousness!

Light and life to all He brings

Ris'n with healing in His wings

Mild He lays His glory by

Born that man no more may die

Born to raise the sons of earth

Born to give them second birth

Hark! The herald angels sing

'Glory to the newborn King!'"

A woman's place is in the kitchen

 I declared a family baking day. The kids worked on sugar cookies, with a little supervision.

Arguably, they could have stood to have a little more supervision.

Okay, maybe a lot more supervision.

But what's the fun in that?

They had their fun, and during their naps, I got to have mine. 

Final tally: twelve pounds of fudge, three dozen sugar cookies, two dozen chocolate espresso cookies, two dozen peanut butter chocolate kiss cookies, one dozen peppermint sugar cookie stars, and 22 trays of cinnamon rolls for the neighbors. 

This is definitely my favorite time of year.

Wade in the water, children

I admit I've thought very little about it. But when it has crossed my mind, I've assumed that fish exist in rivers because fish are born in rivers.

I've been very wrong.

Solely for the benefit of my children, or perhaps for the enjoyment of fishermen like my hubby, it turns out that many of those fish are brought to rivers in very large trucks and dumped into the water at the hands of volunteers armed with five-gallon buckets.

And that is where half the family found themselves on this very chilly morning, helping stock the river with trout by running back and forth between a truck heavy laden with fish and the water's edge where they found their home.

Until they decided the water's edge wasn't quite far enough and waded in to get a little closer to the fish being released from all those buckets. Then it was back to the warmth of the car and home for some hot chocolate.

And they're already talking about doing it again in February.

Reindeer games

"Daco's dees," he calls them. I'm pretty sure that translates to "Jacob's these," implying they are his antlers, and no one else's.

He commandeered my sparkly reindeer antlers the moment they came out of Christmas storage. He wears them around the house all the time, usually as a visor with the antlers pointing straight out in front of him, but occasionally pushed back on his head, if I insist.

And only on very, very rare occasions does he share these antlers. But only with his little brother. And only long enough for me to snap a quick picture.

They are his, after all.

He sees you when you're sleeping

With less than a week to go until Christmas, Abby asked the question on everyone's mind.

"Mommy, can we make a birthday cake for Jesus?"

Of course, we told her.

"And can we leave it out on Christmas Eve with some milk so He can have a piece when He comes to His birthday party?"

It occured to us at that moment that our kids know very little about this whole Santa thing. I'm confident that Abby understands Jesus is not Santa Claus and Santa Claus is not Jesus. But just to be sure, I asked.

"Abby, who is Jesus?"

"Jesus is God," she replied.

"And where is God?" I continued.

"God is everywhere!" yelled Caleb from across the table. (Did I mention we were in the middle of Mellow Mushroom having dinner? We were.)

"So if God is everywhere," I went on, "and Jesus is God, then if we have a birthday party for Jesus at our house, He'll be there!"

"So we can leave some cake and milk out for him?" Abby asked again.

Sure, I thought. Why not?

Bearded old guy in a sleigh has nothing on the cute little Savior in a manger around here.

Dot dot dot

Every once in a while I see a really cute project idea on someone else's blog that I want to recreate. Like these cute little polka dot stemless wine glasses that I justified by making it a Christmas craft for the kids to work on.

While I raced to paint as many glasses as I could while overseeing the painting of breakable objects by my favorite little bulls in a china shop, my kids' true personalities shone through.

Abby, meticulous and methodical, started strong and made one very nice glass for me, first painting green dots, then white ones, then red. She took utmost care to be sure all sides were evenly covered, all dots were similar in size, and no color overwhelmed the others. And then, in true Abby fashion, she moved on to what she wanted to do, which was to paint candy canes and snow men on the remaining glasses. I didn't have the heart to tell her she was painting with the glasses wrong-side up and that her pictures would be upside down when she was done. I let her have her fun. It was just acrylic paint, and it was easy to wash off when she wasn't looking to make some more polka dotted glasses to complete the set.

Jacob met and exceeded my expectations for his painting, proving that he could cover the inside and outside of a stemless wine glass with acrylic paint squiggles without breaking anything, and stay pretty clean in the process. It helps that he's kind of annoyed at being messy. His finished project, too, went straight to the sink for a scrubbing and returned to the table where he was allowed to start all over, ad nauseum.

Caleb surprised me most. He was my star student, and turned out more keepers than anyone else in the family. He was gentle with his handling of the glasses, cautious with his application of the paint, and quick to ask if he was doing a good job (which he was). I did not have him pegged as my standout painter-of-breakables. I was pleasantly surprised.

Don't tell Abby and Jacob, but those cute little dotted wine glasses in our cabinets were pretty much all courtesy of Caleb and their mom and dad.

My favorite empty box

Next time Abby asks if she can go downstairs and make me a present while I'm reading to the boys, I might think to ask exactly what she intends to do before granting her permission to do some unsupervised crafting.

Two bottles of glue and one hundred jumbo popsicle sticks later, she brought me a beautiful Christmas present to put under the tree.

"But it's just for decoration, Mommy," she informed me. "I didn't put anything in it. And I glued it shut."

I assured her that was just fine, and it would make a lovely decoration.

"I used plenty of glue so it won't fall apart," she explained. "I made for you because you're my favorite Mommy in the whole world."

And this just might be my favorite Christmas present ever.

Brotherly duties

I don't know why her head was resting on that Wilson boy's knee.

But I do know that I was very thankful to see Caleb's little brother instincts kick in at exactly the right moment to intervene.

He successfully managed to put a safe distance between his sister and his buddy, like a good brother should.

And he spent the rest of the Christmas concert showing all the other kids at church his six pack. Just in case anyone else was thinking about cuddling up next to his sister.

He's my secret weapon. Future suitors beware.

And to all a good night

Puppy. Puppy. Puppy. Penguin. Stegosaurus. Blankie. Puppy. Jacob.

Yep. That's everything. All's well in this crib.

Where she loves to be

When the recital was over, the tutu put away and the flowers she'd been given arranged neatly in a vase on her dresser, we tucked our tiny ballerina into bed and told her how much we had enjoyed her performance.

She was exhausted from all the dancing and all the excitement, and was almost asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. We kissed the top of her sparkly head one last time and turned out her light.

As we pulled her door shut, Abby whispered in that sleepy little voice of hers, "I had so much fun tonight!"

Maybe every little girl just loves to dance. Maybe the sparkly costume and the glitter I sprinkled in her hair backstage made her feel like a princess. Whatever the reason, what we know for certain is that she is never so determined as when she's on stage trying to remember all her moves, or so patient with her own mistakes. And there is nothing else that makes her smile quite like she does when she's a ballerina.

Problem solved

"Caleb, I don't think Santa can bring us reindeer," Abby told her brother last night, apparently still pondering the Christmas wish list they had shared with Santa earlier. "I think we should ask God if we can see some real reindeer."

I didn't comment, apparently because I have very little faith compared to my daughter. I didn't want to get their hopes up, so I just didn't mention the reindeer anymore. Whether or not they actually prayed for reindeer last night will remain a mystery.

But I hesitate to call it a coincidence that the neighbor up the street informed me today that her church, just minutes from our house, was having its big Christmas festival today. And what was first on her list of fun reasons we should bring the kiddos?

You guessed it.

Live reindeer.

"Mommy, do you think God knew we wanted to see real reindeer so he put those reindeer there?" Abby asked me later.

I don't doubt it in the least.

All they want for Christmas

Stinkers.

They're not supposed to ask Santa for stuff. I bought their Santa gift in bulk four years ago. Our St. Nick specializes in wooden train sets, and we look forward to him bringing a family gift of new pieces to add to our collection each year. So far, we've kept them blissfully unaware of the whole write-Santa-a-letter-asking-for-stuff campaign. They understand that the purpose of going to see Santa is so that Mommy can add another annual photo to her collection. And I'm just fine with that.

So when I noticed Abby and Caleb whispering to one another as we waited in line for this year's photo opportunity, I was a bit surprised. And when they told Santa of their desires for this Christmas, I was shocked.

"We only want to see real reindeer," Abby informed the jolly old elf.

"Yeah, just reindeer," Caleb added. "That's all."

Oh, that's all you want? To see some real live reindeer? You sure you don't want some new bridges or maybe some switcher tracks? Because I can handle train pieces. But an arctic caribou? That's kind of a tall order, don't you think?

Santa played it off well, telling them he'd left his reindeer at home. He did bring along Rudolph's bells, which Abby rang enthusiastically before hanging them back on his chair.

"We really just want to see some reindeer," she added as she bid him farewell.

I like that my kids dream big. But I'm kind of wondering how we're going to pull this one off.