Going out in the snow

Our conversation this morning:

Let's see.... Got your hat? Mittens? No...where's the other mitten?Put your sweater on, please. 

How about snow pants? NO, SNOW pants, the ones on the hook over there. Yes, they're dry. Of course, they are dry. Just put them on. Seriously, do you want to go out or not? Put the pants on. 

Where are your jeans?  Why did you take them off? Take the snow pants off and put the jeans back on. Yes, and your tights. Now the jeans. And NOW the snow pants-yes!  Here's your hat.

Where is your sister? She's doing WHAT?!? Hold on, I'll be right back. Go find your coat and scarf....

Okay, I'm back. WHY ARE YOU NAKED???

Needless to say, we're watching movies this afternoon. 

Good Morning!

Eleanor has decided that it is her job in the morning to see if Jordan is awake.

She quietly walks over to the Jordan's room, carefully opens the door, quietly walks up the bed and pulls all the covers off.  Amazingly, Jordan has been awake every time Eleanor goes in to check on her. 

Guess what was in the advent calendar this morning?

Our conversation in the car this morning

Grace: Mommy. Mommy. Mommy!

Me: Yes?

Grace: God and Jesus are in my heart.

Me: Yes, yes they are. 

Grace: And Jesus is going to have his birthday. On Christmas!

Me: Really?

Grace: Yeah. And you know my favorite part of the God story? 

Me: No sweetie, what?

Grace:  Mary. Mary's my favorite part.  Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb. Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow! 

Cause there was a lamb in the manger, right? 

Can you feel the love?

Every morning, you guys get up and ask for gummi bears.  Years from now, when you read this and run your tongue over any fillings,  I give you full permission to call and yell at me about giving you kids sugary snacks that stick to your teeth.  Yes, I've heard the warnings and read the articles that the snack industry is trying to disprove (goldfish crackers are bad for you???) but I have a very good reason. 

Because every morning you girls get up individually or in a pack and come down to ask for your gummi vitamins. In the quiet of the morning, you descend like a delicate herd of elephants to kiss me good morning and remind me to give you your vitamins. I usually wait until all of you have come down so that every one gets theirs and no one filches the remaining piles of gummis on the counter- this morning was no exception. 

Eleanor woke up at 5:30 this morning and conned your father into thinking that she was going to drift back to sleep if he let her get into bed with me and snuggle. Ha. Fat chance.  Then Grace came down around 6:30 to watch the news with us. My response to your several requests for vitamins was to remind you that we would have vitamins when Jordan was awake and came downstairs. 

Twenty minutes later I could feel the bond of sisterhood when Jordan came round the corner in her footie pajamas and Grace and Eleanor started with their joyful morning greetings of "Good morning Jordan! You're awake! You're awake! That means we get our gummi bears!" 

Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!

Christmas traditions

When Grace was born, we were still living in Israel and brought her over to the party at the Ambassador's house to meet Santa Clause. She was less than impressed.  In 2006, we had just had Eleanor, so we decided against a trek out to the malls or parties to look for Santa.  While I was pregnant with Jordan we went down to the mall and visited a Santa in the mill of the shopping chaos. While Grace understood that the big guy was going to give her a candy cane if she let us take her picture, the torched was passed to Eleanor to shriek in horror at Santa. 

Last year, I took you and your sisters over to Beth's house and we were visited by Santa.  Your dad was in Iraq so I had all three of you lovelies on my own.  You were very well behaved and I had lots of extra helping hands, but it was still a bit stressful for me.  Despite being raised all over the place, I've got that good New England guilt in me that makes me want you to be perfectly behaved in social settings so as not to detract from the experience for others. 

Before you take this straight to your therapists, I know this is impossible.  And unrealistic. But I have every faith that you girls can behave yourselves.  Even when super duper excited.  Even when in a group of other kids. Even while wearing twirly skirts.  Just maybe not on a sugar high. 

So last year it was three against one and I was exhausted by the end of

 the evening. This year your dad moved heaven and earth to make it to this party (and if I didn't apologize to him a thousand times in person, here it is in writing. I'm sorry about my cruddy attitude. You made sure you worked that schedule, you were brilliantly Machiavellian and worked that group to have them leave earlier on Friday and come in on Saturday and you made it to the party. I should have had more faith. ) and were two on three.  I got to sit down and talk to other people. I got to watch your girls run amuck and I love watching you meet Santa again. 

And Jordan upheld the family name. 

Mommy is....

Mommy is ticked. No, scratch that. Mommy is frustrated. And angry. And perturbed. Not at your father, but at a situation that has been caused by your father's job. 

My off again, on again, off again and resulting disdainful relationship with the Marine Corps will probably not be a secret by the time you guys are older. I respect your father and most of the people that I meet who are Marines. I can appreciate the core values of the Corps and the excellent leaders they develop and the difficult missions they accomplish.  What I don't appreciate is the way they screw with my life. 

Now don't get me wrong. I'm not going to bite the hands that feed us. Sure, I pointed out a few idiotic things that the USMC does with the National Military Family Association (your mom is such an anonymous rebel) but your father loves his job and I'm going to support him. And I do mean LOVES his job. That is rare in this world.  And while the Marine Corps has it's negative quirks that are unique to it, I am fully aware that employment elsewhere or self employment would also hold different challenges. 

That being said.....

Mommy is frustrated. Six weeks ago Miss Beth and I started planning an evening with Santa at her house.  We did it last year and got to skip the traffic at the mall, the waiting in line and the rush, rush, rush.  Foolish me, I was lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that I checked every one's schedule, put it on the home calendar, called in and put in on your Dad's schedule and have been talking about it every week since.   Unfortunately, the almighty Marine Corps has called on your dad to be part of board for two weeks and is now coming home around seven, seven thirty every night. Not only do we have a naked Christmas tree because I'm loathe to decorate it without him (again) but he hardly gets to see you girls. This also means he is going to miss the party. 

He's promised that he is going to try and get everyone motivated to leave at five on Friday but that is no guarantee. All it takes is one guy to want to push through and work and your dad is stuck. I understand. Really I do. But that doesn't change the fact that Mommy is ticked. Or angry.  And frustrated.  How many more years until he retires?

Christmas Pajamas

 Every year, Aunt Michelle sends you guys the best Christmas pajamas. Joy!