Wegmans

I adore Wegmans. It's a pure love, fueled by their bakery (foccacia bread, nonna's cheese bread and do not get me started on their unbelievable 'ultimate chocolate cake'!), their prepared foods, the ingenious recipes and cooking stations, and the beauty that is their drive up service. (Helping Hands guys, you rock my world. Seriously.)

But I think I could love Wegmans even more. I could. Really! If only I could convince the kiddies to enjoy an hour or so in the beauty that is WKids - climbing, playing, coloring with all the other happy kiddies. (Oh, not only do those kiddies look so happy in WKids, but I have seen some pretty joyful faces on the mommies after the WKids drop off too.)

Unlike all the other children at Wegmans, my boys prefer to enjoy their grocery shopping with me. All three of them. With me. Helping and Hugging me and Feasting aisle after aisle. No WKids for them, no sirree. We must be with our mommy All. The. Time. (Yes, I am currently authoring my own book on how to raise codependent children. Look for it at bookstores near you.)

But I was determined this morning would be different. My friend Christine agreed to meet me at Wegmans with her adorable and WKids aficionado girls Ellie and Casey to entice my children to the wonders of the WKids experience. Aidan and Brennan were psyched. Go WKids, Hurray! Drop off was a success. I set off from WKids with only one child in tow. I was one of those joyful mommies! (It's amazing how easy grocery shopping is with only one child to entertain.)

Blissful, blissful Wegmans. My love deepened for you in the bakery aisle, through the produce and up to the deli counter. But while perusing the meat counter, I faintly heard my name being announced over the loudspeakers. Hmmm, is that my name? Me? I look at my friend Christine with confusion in my eyes. She's already laughing. Yes, after only two aisles of one-child shopping bliss, I am being beckoned to return to WKids to retrieve my other two children. Damn it. DAMN IT.

I hoof it over to WKids in record time and see Aidan and Brennan standing by the entrance with tears in their eyes. I immediately think something happened, someone was hurt, some emergency must have occurred to set them off.

Nope. They just missed me. They just wanted to shop with me. They just wanted to be with me. Sigh.

After a sad, forlorn wave to Christine's kids, happily playing in WKids with all the other jubilant, engaged kiddies, I turn back to grocery shopping with a heavy heart. The joy is gone. Wegmans, I still love you - but oh, the potential is there for our relationship to go to the next level. If only my boys would cooperate.

As an added bonus to my grocery shopping, I heard Brennan singing to himself as we walked out of the store after check out. His singing was low - loud enough for me to know he was singing, but not quite loud enough for me to understand his words. Until we got outside. The wind picked up his voice and I made out a sing song, "My mommy has a v*gina, but boys have p*nises. No v*ginas for the boys only for the mommies." I started to laugh - a full out hysterical belly laugh that had tears streaming down my face. Anyone who may have seen me in the middle of the parking lot, clutching my side howling with laughter, holding a forty pound one year old with a five year old and three year old hanging on to my jacket, must have concluded I have gone and lost my mind. No worries. My mind has been gone for quite some time now.

The Story of the Necklace

Chris asked me to throw him some hints and wishes for Christmas gifts this year. I obliged and showed him a pretty beaded necklace I saw online. The necklace was strewn with beads of different colors and would assist me in my attempts to learn accessorizing. But Chris took one look at it and refused.

"Please," he said, "100$ for that necklace!? It's ridiculous. They are just some beads someone threw on a chain and called it jewelry."

I gasped. "Those beads are vintage! And it's pretty! It takes talent to create something like that." I argued while I gestured to the picture of the necklace on the computer screen.

Chris laughed. "Vintage is just a clever way to sell some old beads some lady found in her basement. And talent? I could make that without even trying."

"You so could not."

"I could."

"Fine then. All I want for Christmas is for you to make me a necklace."

I figured I shouldn't hold my breath on that wish though.

On Christmas morning I opened a large white box. Resting on top of the tissue paper inside of the box was a small card folded in half. Inside the card read:

"Vintage 2007 Christmas necklace. Created with love exclusively for Tara. Artist signed..." with Chris's signature.

I started to laugh as I yelled, "You didn't!" Chris laughed in response and told me to open the tissue paper.

It was the necklace.

"You did NOT make this." I laughed with tears in my eyes. Chris just nodded yes in response. I laughed uncontrollably. "There is no WAY you made this!" I yelled.

By this point, we were both laughing so hard we had tears streaming down our faces.

It was truly, really the necklace. And he made it. I didn't believe he actually made it until he showed me his jewelry tools and left over beads. My sweet darling husband - beaded for me. I am not quite sure if it was out of love or just a plain stubborn desire to prove me wrong.

The necklace is beautiful. I wore it all day Christmas. In fact, I love it so much I told him I want him to make me another one for my birthday. His response: "Oh no. We can't mass produce these things or your exclusive design will lose its value." Uh huh.

Christmas Parts Two, Three, Four and Five or Is It Over Yet?

Christmas is not just a day in our family. Christmas is a stream of days marked by a gluttony of food, drink and presents.

We continued our Christmas celebration on Christmas Eve morning with Chris's parents and brother. The boys were on overdrive, awed at the amount of toys infiltrating our home. We just managed to organize the bounty of toys and gifts, clean up the wrapping paper and minimize the chaos, when it was time to set off for Christmas Eve dinner at my grandparents' house.

There are no words to describe how much I love Christmas Eve dinner. It is, simply put, my most favorite and special day of the year. All the people I love most gathered in one place to eat, to drink and to enjoy each other. My grandmother dishes out an Italian feast of epic proportions: homemade sauce and pasta, meatballs, braciole and veal - it is a meal a cut above all other feasts. We drink much wine. My aunt mans the bar and tempts us with her artfully made cosmos. The kids run wild - the older children watching out for and playing with the younger ones.

We stayed at Christmas Eve well past the kiddie's bedtimes, relaxed from the wine and conversation, giggling over the antics of the kids. The chaos was unbelievable, but also captivating. My cousins set up a skeet shooting game in the kitchen and practiced shooting targets in between the stream of family stealing dessert. The older kids challenged each other to Wii games of tennis and bowling in my grandparent's bedroom. ( I think Aidan reigned as champion - beating both Uncle Travis and Uncle Seth!) My grandfather engaged in a fake snowball war with Brennan - conjuring snowballs out of scraps of wrapping paper littering the living room floor.

I next see Brennan wrestling on the couch with his Uncle Seth while Aidan buried himself under mounds of discarded wrapping paper next to the Christmas tree.

Griffin refused to miss even one minute of fun and protested our attempts to put him to sleep in an empty bedroom in his pack n' play. Instead, he stayed up with the big kids and entertained Jenna, Aunt Tennille and Aunt Linda with his artfully worn beret, a gift to Tennille, just unwrapped.


We oohed and ahhed over everyone's presents. As tradition goes, the kids all put on their pjs and cavorted around the house strung out on too much sugar. We finally had to call it a day at 10 p.m., well past the normal 7 p.m bedtime. Of course, we were the first of my family to leave. They would be at the revelry for hours.

I thought the late night would guarantee the boys would sleep in a bit for Christmas morning. I was wrong. 7:01 a.m: Aidan jumped into our bed, eager to see the Santa bounty. The presents were opened and the stockings dumped out in glee. When the dust settled, Chris was put to work, assembling and constructing in a frenzy. (I am grateful I possess zero skills in this area. I can barely make a lego house, let alone a lego star wars naboo command fighter.)



After a relaxing day of play in our pjs, we enjoyed Christmas dinner at my Aunt's. The boys were back in heaven, chasing cousins and uncles, in a frantic, sleep deprived state.

And now it's over. Christmas 2007 in all its glory.

Christmas: Opening Day

We started off the excess of toys, presents and good cheer last night with festivities with my mom, brothers and sister in law. After some pizza, a little wii playing and the boys all time favorite "tackle the uncles", the frenzy of present opening began. The boys were lost in a haze of wrapping paper and toy glory - going from one present to another with barely a thought or breath in between.

When the wrapping paper had settled, it was clear the boys loved all their presents, but it appears my brother Travis hit the home run this year with this and this. Yes, helmets the boys can wear that change their voices into either Darth Vadar or a Transformer. They are addicted. And I can now blame my brother for at least one year of Griffin's therapy when he is driven into psychosis because of his older brothers stalking him with freaky helmets and even freakier voices. (They even sort of freak me out a little bit.)

Baby Jedi

A sign, perhaps, we should play less Star Wars around the house and spend more time attending to my children's spiritual development:

"Let's play house Brennan, okay?" yelled Aidan.

"Okay." Brennan replied, always game.

"Okay, I am Joseph, Mommy is Mary and you are the baby Jedi."

Highs and Lows

Today was a day of highs and lows. I started the day with great expectations - Friday! A Mommy Day! The weather was warmer than usual for December - perhaps the kiddies and I would take a nice long walk and enjoy the Christmas decorations. And bake more cookies! And play! And...

I got a migraine. Hell is being home alone with two children three and under, losing your vision and feeling as if your head was being split in two by a giant hacksaw. I don't get migraines often, but when I do, they come on quickly and always manage to scare the pants off me. I have a gradual loss of my vision until I can barely manage to see shapes lost in a blurry mess. All I can do is get myself to a dark room and ride the waves for an hour or two.

So, I shut the doors to the playroom, locking the boys and me in, and called the hubbie in a panic. He managed to make it home in record time to rescue me.

It was not the Friday morning I had planned.

I did manage to rally to enjoy our planned and eagerly anticipated date night. My mom watched the boys so Chris and I could escape to the Sabres game. Great game, a chance to meet up with many friends and enjoy a child free night out. At least my Friday night went as planned!

Large and In Charge

"Mom, I'm in charge when my teacher leaves the classroom," Aidan declares with serious eyes over dinner.

"Aidan, I know you like to be in charge and stuff, but you really can't just boss your classmates around the minute the teacher leaves the room. Okay?" I say in my best 'I love you even though you're bossy' voice.

"No, Mom. Really. I'm in charge."

"What?"

"The teacher said so. When she has to leave, I'm in charge. Isn't that great?" He laughs and throws me a huge grin.

"Well, what do you do when she leaves the room?"

"I watch everyone. And no one is allowed to get up from their seats. I watch them to make sure. And they don't get up because they know I'm watching them." He shoots me a smile full of self congratulations.

Oh dear lord, does this teacher have any idea of the Pandora's box she has just opened? Give this kid a little power and he may soon be staging a kindergarten coup. She knows not what she does.

Too Much Christmas?

Signs we may be on Christmas overload at our home:

"I would like 'roast beast'." Brennan, channeling the Grinch, in response to my question on what he would like for dinner tonight.

"Can you hear it Mom? Can you? Can you hear it?" Aidan asks as he incessantly and repeatedly shakes a small silver bell on a ribbon. On hearing that I, indeed, can hear it, he smiles and replies "that's because you believe in the spirit of Christmas." Perhaps Aidan has seen and read the Polar Express one too many times this holiday season.

In related Christmas topics, my Christmas song of the year has to be Josh Groban's rendition of "Angels We Have Heard on High". I'm obsessed with it and have started pretending that I am actually singing the duet with Josh instead of Brian McKnight. (Yes, I do have an active fantasy life, thank you very much.)

Brennan at Three

Happy three my sweet little boy.

You are a bundle of joy and humor wrapped up in the sweetest little boy. You love to make people laugh and will go to great comic lengths to achieve a suitable reaction from your audience. You love to giggle, run and jump. You are fearless and greet each day with energetic exuberance.

You are so full of love. You pronounce your love for me, your Daddy and your brothers as many times as you can - eager to let us all know how much we mean to you. You love to hug and cuddle. And you love to steal away for a quiet moment of cuddles with just you, your blankie and your ever faithful bink in your big boy car bed.

You love to eat, especially pizza, mac n' cheese, blueberries and yogurt. Your favorite meal is breakfast - two eggs over easy, bacon and toast, all shared with your Daddy as you sit on his lap.

Your favorite television show is Caillou. Your favorite movie is Monsters Inc. or Shrek. We could probably all recite Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by heart.

There is nothing that brings a smile to your face like hearing today is a mommy day. You are always eager to help me bake and cook. We love to share our lazy mornings of pjs and reading books in bed after we put Griffin down for his morning nap. You are my grocery shopping buddie and eagerly anticipate our next visit to Wegmans.

Your smile, your face, your heart brings us joy each and every day. Happy three to our B.

The Concert and the Tie

Aidan's Christmas concert was last night. His very first concert required his very first shirt and tie combo and his very first lesson with his Dad on tie tying.


The concert was cute. Brennan was beyond delighted when he spotted Aidan up on the risers on stage. He gasped and yelled, "I see Aidan. I see him!" And before I could shush him, he yelled again, "Hi Aidan! Hi!" as he waved furiously to his big brother. Aidan basked in the attention and confidently sung every one of the three christmas ditties with his classmates.

It's only a matter of time before he has graduated to prom and a tux, right? Sigh.

Veggie Subterfuge

Aidan is a picky eater above and beyond all picky eaters. He eats because he has to eat to survive, but beyond a deep affection for pepperoni (blame his father) and baked goods (totally my fault), his food intake is at a minimum. It gets even worse when we talk veggies. It's a daily struggle to get some form of veggie in that kid's body. He probably end up with scurvy or some other horrific disease that leads to the doctors concluding it is ALL the mother's fault because I didn't force feed him more veggies. (Because, yes, it really is all about me, isn't it?)

So then I saw Jessica Seinfeld on Oprah with her genius little book Deceptively Delicious. I loved the idea of hiding the veggies in my kiddies' food and I thought about getting the book. I never did it, but I really pondered it. (I get good mom points for the thinking about it at least, don't I?) And then my friend Danielle (an amazing mother) got the book and upon hearing I was interested in reading it, photocopied the whole flippin' book for me and dropped it in my mailbox. (amazing friend too!)

It's a cool idea - this veggie subterfuge. I like it. As a mother to children who eat mac n' cheese at least once a day, I love the idea of hiding some veggies in with all that cheesy processed goodness. But - oh lord, who has the time to clean, steam and puree all those vegetables? I mean, I consider the day a success if I shower, let alone puree? Based upon my reality, I determined my kids were just doomed to their veggie nonexistent life.

But then! I was making yet another box of mac n' cheese the other day and I happened to spy a leftover jar of Griffin's butternut squash baby food. Hmmmmm. My mind started working overtime. What is baby food except pureed veggies? So I tempted fate, threw that jar into the cheesy mix, and served it to my boys with bated breath.

They ate every last bite. Not a word of complaint. Their lunch actually had some nutritional value. This is so unbelievably great. I am like the lazy version of Jessica Seinfeld. Slacker moms of the world unite!

My Christmas Gift

Wednesday was a big Christmas present to me, all wrapped up in some shiny paper with a big fancy bow.

I took a day off work. I sent the kiddies to school. I was alone in my house. Alone! Do you know how long it has been since I’ve been alone in my house? No? Me neither. But if I had to take a guess, I’d say it has been about a year. As the door shut behind Chris and the boys, my huge sigh of relief was overwhelmed by the need to run leaping from room to room in jubilant glee. Whee! I’m all by myself!

Instead of leaping, I got myself a fresh mug full of coffee and enjoyed twenty minutes of my buddies over at the Today Show. It was delightful. I followed this with some unencumbered time playing with my ipod and itunes. I made myself a mixed cd of my favorite Christmas tunes. Next came a blasting of Christmas music as I prepared some cookie dough to bake with the boys on Friday. I loved each and every second of it. Of course, time went in a flash.

I bet you thought it couldn’t get any better than me in a house alone, right? But after my solo morning, I joined my lovely friend Christine at the spa where we indulged in massages, pedicures and facials, oh my!

And then. And then! Dinner with the girls. Yes, dinner out with my girlfriends, the amazing and wonderful Carolyn, Cynthia, Christine and Danielle at the incredible Stillwater with many bottles of delicious red wine. And cheesecake. And some peppermint schnapps hot fudge. (Must figure out how to duplicate that stroke of culinary genius at home.)

Merry Christmas to me. I wish I could give all my fellow busy mommies a Wednesday to themselves for Christmas. We sure as hell all deserve it.

Ladies Holiday Extravaganza

My neighborhood association throws an annual ladies' Christmas cocktail party at the local country club. The whole thing has a definite Desperate Housewives vibe to it. I admit to finding it all very amusing and planned to attend more for the amusement and snark value than anything else.

I was pleasantly surprised this evening to find the party, well, nice. The women were friendly and kind. We each donated an item for a silent auction and in two hours raised over 1200$ for charity. There were appetizers to nibble, wine to gulp and gossip to share. I didn't find one thing to snark over. Not a thing. (Okay, maybe just one thing. I had to giggle over the gaggle of women who moved as a collective group and looked exactly alike with their bleached blond hair, fancy jeans with sparkly tops and size zero frames. I swear I couldn't tell one from the other.)

I even managed to bid and win on an elaborately decorated gingerbread house for the boys to make up for our attempt at a gingerbread house that had some, well to put it mildly, construction issues. I am leaving it on the table to surprise them at breakfast. Elves deliver gingerbread houses to good little boys. It's a new Santa service.

The Mall Rollercoaster

I made the questionable decision this morning to hoof it over to the mall with Brennan and Griffin. The mall at Christmas is at best, stressful and overcrowded. (and filled with Canadians! Hello there half of Ontario, welcome to Buffalo!) But when you add in two children three and under to your shopping (and hello double stroller!), the mall is a bit of a roller coaster ride with pronounced highs and lows of emotional giddiness.

High? Brennan shouting "Hey there Santa! Whatcha doin'?" to the delight of many onlookers who stopped and just laughed at the shouted conversation that ensued between Brennan and the Mall Santa. Brennan finished his little gabfest, grinned at his audience, waved to Santa and walked off yelling, "Yeah, so see you Christmas then Santa, okay?"

Low? Brennan yelling, "I have to pee! Oh boy do I ever have to pee!" in the Disney store as he grabbed his penis as if he was hanging on to each drop off urine by pure force. He continued holding his private regions and yelling about how he had to pee as I ran through the mall desperate for a sign of a bathroom. (Pottery Barn, god bless you, your very nice bathroom and the hysterically laughing sales associate who held the door to the bathroom open for me and my double stroller from hell.)

High? Griffin trying on his very first "real" pair of shoes and enjoying his very first ice cream cone.

Low? Griffin also apparently had his very first shop lifting experience. He had shoved some small "stocking stuffer" items under his seat from an (ahem) unnamed specialty store that I didn't discover until we were on our way home. Ah, his very first misdemeanor. I am so exceptionally proud. Can a one year old have a rap sheet?

High? We passed through Macy's on our way out to the car and I spied the most perfect necklace to go with my outfit for a holiday party tomorrow evening. And it's on sale. And I have a gift card left over from last Christmas. Score!

Low? Turning away from Brennan for, I swear, thirty seconds, and finding him with bracelets and jeweled watches on both arms from his wrist to his elbow. How is it that it takes me twenty minutes to undo something an (almost) three year old can do in thirty seconds? How?

High? Brennan hugging my arm after we sat down to lunch and telling me "I love you momma."

Low? Griffin discovered ketchup by the handful. Ugh.

The Price of a Shower

I really, really wanted a shower this morning. I didn't want to wait until nap time. After daydreaming of clean hair and shaved legs for most of the early morning hours, I decided to throw mommy caution to the winds and attempt to shower while home alone with Brennan and Griffin. I took all necessary precautions. I locked the doors to my bedroom. I turned on good tv and left an abundance of attractive toys for play. It was go time.

I got through the first minute or two of the shower by playing peek a boo with Griffin who had placed his nose up against the glass of our master bathroom shower. I had just lathered up my hair when Brennan burst into the bathroom and declared he had to go potty NOW! As in right now. As in no time to rinse even though I begged and pleaded with him just to hold on for one second so I could help him.

Brennan peed all over himself and the bathroom floor. And then before I could get out of the shower, Griffin played in the puddles of urine.

This is the price I paid for coveting shaved legs and clean hair. I'm still debating if it was worth it. It might just be.

Odds and Ends

Randomness from my day:

I swore I was going to run into Old Navy and do a quick return. NO new purchases, just a quick return. But, I was stymied by the wonder of the 20% Friends and Family discount. Return plan thwarted! I had to do a quick shop of the boys section. As I shopped, a little girl who was maybe four or five walked up to an Old Navy salesperson (probably in her late teens) and tells her she can't find her daddy. I start to eavesdrop because I am a nosy nellie and I can't help myself.

"You can't find your daddy?" The salesperson asks wide eyed.

"No." The little girl looks around the store sadly.

"Oh. Well, Hmmmm. Um, Okay. Hm, well." The Old Navy customer service wunderkind is at a loss. She honestly goes on like this for a solid two minutes until the little girl interjects with, "Maybe we should look for him?"

"Okay." The salesperson agrees in a relieved tone as if she has finally uncovered the right answer.

"I'm going to go look for him now." The little girl tosses this over her shoulder as she starts to walk AWAY from the salesperson and rounds a corner into the big bad store. ALONE. And the salesperson just stands here nodding as the little girl walks away.

Um, really? These are the geniuses we have working in customer service? I can't help myself. I shoot the salesperson an exasperated look and yell, "You can't just let her walk away by herself." I turn to chase the girl around the corner to ask her where she left her daddy. By the time she's finished explaining, a harried looking man walks up to claim her.

The entire time? The salesperson never moved. She never called anyone for help. She just stood there and let that adorable little girl walk off on her own in search of her parent. Yeah, note to self. Keep an eye on your kiddies in the store. Most of our four year olds are smarter than the people working as Christmas help.

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I am directionally challenged. I can get around the greater Buffalo area reasonably well, but I have a bad tendency to get lost if I move outside of my comfort zones. My husband, however, is a directional whiz. He knows how to get anywhere and everywhere here in Buffalo. He has no direction limitations. I like this because this means he can always direct me when I lose my way. It's a win win situation. Except, I get lost alot. This means I call him for directions a lot. And I have a tendency to call him for directions no matter where he may be at that moment. In the past six weeks, he has given me directions in Buffalo while he has been working in Boston Mass, Park City Utah and Portland Maine. On two of those three occasions, I may have even cried because I was both lost and late. He never complains. He is patient. He always gets me where I need to go. I hung up my cell phone today after seeking directions from him while he is in Utah and I had a flash of self awareness. I think I might be a little bit high maintenance. But just a little bit.

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Aidan's class gets tested once or twice a month on their reading comprehension. So far he has done well, earning a 100% on each test. Today he came home and told me he got another 100. Then he remarked, "I think I like getting 100%. I'm going to get 100 on every test. But only until fifth grade, Mom. Then I'm done. No more 100s."

I guess I better enjoy it while it lasts.

My Last Baby is One

Happy Birthday my littlest boy. You turn one today. Before you joined our family, I worried you would lack for attention as the third child. But now, that fear just seems ridiculous. You are the center of our family. Your grin, your giggle, your infectious howls of excitement bring joy to not only your mom and dad, but your big brothers too. Your brothers compete over who can make you smile more, who you hug more and who you want to play with more. You are fawned over, hugged and cuddled to death, you are loved. So very loved.

You have the sweetest disposition. You love to give hugs. You wrap your arms around a person, squeeze them tight and yell "aaaahhhhhh." You love to laugh and run. You believe you can keep up with your brothers, regardless of age. You have learned to tackle and chase, crumble forts and throw a ball.

You are so very stubborn. You have an amazing streak of independence. You like to do things your way.

You are the first of my boys to be as equally a mommy's boy as a daddy's boy. Your love for your daddy is fierce. You squeal with delight the minute he walks into a room, toddling as quickly as your legs will carry you to jump in your daddy's arms.

You love to dance. At the littlest sound of music, you will start to bust a move, giggling and grinning as you shake yourself back and forth.

You are such a joy my little one. You are a gift to us. I thank God for you each and every day.

Twas the Night Before Griffin's Birthday

My last baby turns one tomorrow. With each of my children, I am always a little sad about their birthdays. It is such a cliche to talk about how fast they grow, but they do. They grow up before our eyes in a flash. But with Griffin's birthday approaching, I am feeling a little more melancholy than usual. He's my last baby. And it breaks my heart to see him leave babyhood behind and go stomping into toddlerhood.

You celebrate so many firsts with your children. Their first smiles, first steps, first words. I spent a lot of Griffin's first year mourning the last "firsts". The last first smile. The last first steps. The last first words. The last time I would snuggle with a baby under a blanket nursing in a room lit only by the moon outside. The last time I would feel my child's tiny fingers clinging to mine for the first time. The last time I would wake with a newborn cuddled into my arms fast asleep. And tomorrow, the last first birthday.

I wanted to spend some extra time loving Griffin up tonight as I put him to bed. I fed him his bottle, rocked him and sang softly to him. I had tears in my eyes as I held on tight to his fingers and held his loving gaze. I was in full on mushy mommy mode. Griffin finished his bottle, sat up in my lap and hit me in the face. He laughed and yelled, "Ouch" and then tried to do it all over again. I guess it was an appropriate response to my self induced mommy melancholy. My last first encounter with my toddler's sense of humor.

Christmas in Whoville

Whoville celebrated Christmas last night with their annual Holiday in the Village extravaganza. We had to drive around for a good fifteen minutes to find a parking spot at which Chris commented, "People are insane in this town. This many people want to come out and sing carols and hang with Santa?" Why yes they do want to. Because it's the Whoville thing to do. (Yes, I am channeling Dr. Seuss.) Oh, did I happen to mention that it was all of 20 degrees out last night?

Brennan was overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Santa. As we walked to the festivities, he kept shouting, "Santa! Santa?" in the hopes Santa would just hop out from behind a tree with Christmas greetings. The local library was set up with arts and crafts - and the boys made some Christmas trees:

We saw the local dance studio dance their tails off to some Christmas tunes, passed on the face painting and met Mrs. Claus before she sat down for story time. Griffin enjoyed some quality time with Daddy while the boys arts and crafted to death.

Then we left the library to walk to the local train depot for more Whoville fun - Santa and caroling. The boys shocked me at how easily and readily they hopped on Santa's lap to whisper their Christmas wishes in his ear. (It may have been the promise of the giant candy canes full of M&Ms they had seen passed on to the other kiddies after their visit with Santa. Candy will do it every time.)

We were all set to jump on the hay ride and go caroling after our visit with Santa, but, well, it was just too damn cold out. We called it a night and headed home for hot chocolate and marshmallows. (Many, many marshmallows.)

Next week: Whoville does breakfast with Santa. I so love this town.

The Love of a Deal

As I may have mentioned yesterday, I hate to pay full price for anything. This may be a good personality trait, but sometimes I get a little over excited about a good deal. I can't help myself. And as Chris likes to remind me, "all those good deals start to add up over time." Sigh.

Yesterday, a friend invited me to the employee sale at Fisher-Price. The prices were almost 40% off the regular price of items. 40%!!! The scene was complete chaos, people grabbing toys every which way (but doing so with good cheer and utmost politeness!) and the lines to check out stretched the length of the store - both ways. It was SO much fun.

I got a little caught up in the bargain mayhem. Rather than sticking to my list of two or three things I needed to finish off the holiday shopping from the boys, I filled a cart to the brim with so much stuff, the cart couldn't even manuever up and down the aisles without toys toppling off the sides. I had a harsh dose of reality when I checked out. Because yes, those bargains really do add up when you grab a million and one of them.

Sigh. Now I have to figure out what I am going to return and what I am going to keep. I think I just made a whole lot more work for myself. Unless, anyone have a need for a Fisher Price toy this holiday season? I have a few I could sell.