Faux Gingerbread Houses

The thoughtful comments from my lovely loyal readers have convinced me to keep this little blog going such as it is and as much as I can.  I don't promise regular posting, but, as one reader said, it's here when I feel the urge to write.  And I like writing, when I can get to it.

We had a snow day today (and might have several after this by the looks of things).  It's quite a blizzard out there, so we're hunkered down waiting it out.  And tomorrow is Epiphany, so Christmas is coming to an end now.  I had all sorts of plans to do fun Christmas things (or, uh, I had plans to make plans... or something) with the kids for the 12 days of Christmas, but we've been sick and the weather has been bad, so regrettably, nothing has really happened.  But today the kids and I were snowed in alone (Nathan was fixing a horrible broken pipe mess at church) and we're feeling better (coughing and sniffling, but no longer miserable) so we  had some fun.

I even took all four of them outside to play in the snow.  Usually I kick them out the door and enjoy the quiet, but it was suggested to me by someone on facebook that perhaps my children don't stay out long to play because I'm not with them (duh), so I caved.  I got myself and my little ones bundled and we went out.  Even Eleanor go a snow suit, and she was fascinated to sit in the snow, until she tipped over.  Then she had to be held.  I helped the boys figure out how to sled on garbage bags (because, um, we don't have any sleds) and we started to dig a snowcave, and then the baby and two-year-old were done, so we trooped back in and made blueberry pancakes for lunch.

And no, I didn't take pictures, because I can barely manage the baby and two-year-old contingent in the snow.  The camera seems to be a bit too much.  Once again, lots of snow pictures of Jonah when he was little.... none of these guys.  Ah, well.

Jonah has been begging to make gingerbread houses for a month.  I have made gingerbread houses as a kid, and all I remember is how much I always regret starting the project once I'm half-way through it.  They never seem to turn out like they look in my head, and they have a way of falling down and getting lopsided andandand...

But I had a bit of inspiration the other day.  I realized that I had some chocolate graham crackers left from our summer s'more making and that they would make lovely houses, without all the work of making gingerbread house parts.

We also have piles of candy that came from the candy bags that are given out at church for Christmas Eve.  While it wasn't quite the usual candy that would be used for house decoration.... who cares?  The boys didn't know the difference and were quite creative with what we had on hand.

They had a great time, and it was pretty low-stress for me. Win-win!

Of course this was a nap-time project because I wouldn't dream of making gingerbread houses with Andrew at this point.  When he woke up from his nap, he sat in his new big-boy-bed (that we recently got out for him for the very purpose that he can get himself out of bed when he is done sleeping) and yelled for someone to come get him.  After a while I went up and asked him why he didn't come down by himself.

"I thtuck."  he said.

Hm.

So that was our day.

And would someone please tell me how this baby is big enough to be standing up and playing with toys at a bench already?

Questioning...

I just love looking over the history on this blog.  It's just about six years now that I've been posting snippets of our life here.  Reading back through it is just so fun!  It's all the scrapbooks and photo albums of our family that I don't actually make.

(I really wish there were some way to easily transmute this all into a print book that I can keep for my children to see later.  That would sure be a special book.)

The question now is:  can I keep going?

I seem to have lost my momentum... I can use the "busy" excuse, and it's certainly true, but I have time for what I make time for, right?

One post last month, two each of the months before...  It's a new low, really.  I haven't posted a single thing about Christmas.  Compared to almost 300 posts in the first year, 38 over the last is a little pathetic.  Does it matter?  I really don't know.  It's like the saying that the older kids are photographed more than the younger.  That certainly seems to be true.  It's like the complete baby book that I have for Jonah, the partial one for Evan, and the, um, NO baby books for Andrew and Eleanor.  I know they will love to have them, if I can ever get to them, and just what are my priorities, again?

So I'm trying to decide whether to keep this blog going, or just let it go.  Do I still love it?  Is it worth it?  Am I over it?  I really loved posting here for the first few years --it's been such a great creative outlet-- but I feel like it's turning into a chore.  But I do so love having this little family history like this.  But do I still want it to be public?  But if it isn't, will I even bother?  In general, dealing with photos and keeping records are grueling chores for me anyway, and that is all this blog has turned into.  I used to really love the funny and creative things I used to write here.  It's turned into just an occasional journaling of our life and times.  I feel like my "funny" and "creative" has been broken by "crazy" and "depleted".  Maybe it's not gone, maybe this is just not the time.   I hate to be a quitter, though.  Is "something" better than "nothing"?

In any case, I'm not sure than anyone even reads this anymore, considering the woeful lack of content.  If it's just family looking at this, isn't that why I have Facebook?

Anyway, these are the questions I've been pondering while I've been not posting anything.  Along with, you know, making and enjoying my little family Christmas, feeding growing little bodies and minds, and planning trips all over the country in the very near future.  Nathan just bought plane tickets to go to his Grandpa's funeral next week, and after he gets home we'll be preparing to leave for our Annual Epic Journey Across the Country.  These kiddos need to have a visit with their long-distance relations, but it means that the next six weeks are going to be freakishly crazy.

In the meantime, maybe I'll post some of it here, or maybe...

Little Drop of Sweet

Andrew and Evan love to hold their baby sister, even though she is no longer very amenable to being held by them.  Shes wiggly, and she's got places to go.  Andrew holds on tight.

Who can resist a little girl in polka dots?

I had a little thought this morning.  It's personal.  I almost don't want to post it here.  But I think I will.

I looked at little Eleanor Carolyn, and I thought how thankful I am for her.  She's fun.  She's sweet.  Not that that isn't also true of my other children, but I tend to be slow to come around to things, and my adjustment to motherhood has been slow and grueling at times.

I recall that sometime last year --I can't quite remember just when-- I was struggling, treading water, and having a particularly hard time with life.  Not for any particular reason, or even any good reason.  It's just the way life is sometimes, I think.  So I started to pray for joy.  Joy in my children, joy in my life.  There I was, trying to figure out how to love and care for three boys-- two who were so little, both still nursing, needing me so much.  I didn't want to hate it.  I didn't want to feel the air being slowly squeezed out of my lungs. Then I was pregnant again, and I was sure I was really going to drown.

So I kept praying --desperately imploring God-- for joy.  I thought it would elude me forever.

So I looked at Eleanor this morning, and I laughed out loud.  My Heavenly Father --I think HE laughed out loud-- heard my prayer and answered it.  "Here's some joy." He said.  "Joy in the form of a sweet baby girl."  He knows me well, of course.  He knew I wouldn't be happy at first.  He knew I would cry.  He knew I would complain.  He knew the work would be hard.

I was (and am) more overwhelmed than ever.

And more joyful.

To refresh my joy in motherhood by increasing my motherhood?  Only God can pull off a stunt like that.

Punkinheads

I guess it's been awhile since I've just posted photos of our recent goings-on.

We carved Reformation pumpkins.  Jonah did his completely on his own, and Evan pretended to do his.  I hadn't planned on him carving a pumpkin, but he really wanted to carve his tiny little pumpkin.

We may not celebrate Halloween, but we like to have fun, too.

It turned out pretty cute.

This little punkinhead is the cutest of all, though.

She learned a new trick in the last few days.  It always cracks me up how determined babies are when they are learning something.  Once she figured out how to get up on her knees, she's done nothing but practice, practice, practice.

"Push her down!" her Grandma says.  Yes, really.  I actually kinda sorta want to.  I'm very happy with an immobile baby, but babies will grow and she will learn new things no matter what I think.

I made her some little hairbows.  A friend told me about the idea of making baby hairclips from the zippers of ziploc bags.  It's genius, really.  Those things really grip little bits of fine baby hair.  She's lost so much hair that she really only has a little shock of long hair on the top.  I try to spread it around. Like a little baby comb-over.  Poor girl...  But never has a comb-over looked so cute on anyone, right?

Balding like a middle-aged man, and she's still stinkin' adorable.

A Two-Year-Old!

Andrew turned two today!

I admit that I was actually a little surprised to realize that he's only just now turning two.  He's been acting like a two-year-old for quite a while now, and I was already thinking of him as being two.  I hope that doesn't mean that the terrible twos, I mean, uh.... terrific twos... are going to get worse now that he's actually two...

He's been so sweet today, though, and he had a really fun birthday.  It's always so fun when they know what a birthday is all about and can enjoy it.

His Grandma gave him new boots which he sorely needed and is very excited about.  I was praying he wouldn't ask to sleep in them, because that's the sort of thing he would do.  He got lots of new little cars and trucks, too, though he spent more time lining them up neatly on the floor than playing with them.  He definitely has a little case of two-year-old OCD, I'd say.  After he finished eating his cake, he couldn't get down from his chair until he had stacked all the cake plates within his reach and laid the forks neatly on top of the stack. All things decently and in order, unless it's contradicts his will in which case he always just opts to roll on the floor and yell "NO".  

Life is so complicated for a tot and there's just so much to learn to make it all tolerable.

It helps to be cute.

Happy second birthday to my sweet little chunka-lunka hunka-monka!  (For some reason, I have more nick-names for this guy than all the others put together.)

And it was all over too fast

I took my two littlest people and went to Oregon to visit family.  Did you know that?  No?  Oh, that would be because I have completely failed to tell you about it.

  I actually got home a week and a half ago, and then I uploaded these photos, but got interrupted and never actually wrote the post.  And then, all week, I've been thinking of other things to post, but I couldn't, because I knew that this post was unfinished, so I could hardly start a new one, now could I?

So we went, and came back, and it was a terribly short (but full!) trip.  Nathan stayed home with Jonah and Evan because it was just too expensive for us all to go. I think that was a little tough on them, but they survived just fine.  Everyone back home was just itching to meet Eleanor before she got any bigger.  Andrew got to go, too, much to the jealousy of his brothers.

I'm pretty much used to living far away from everyone, but every time I have a new baby, the distance really grates on me.  I want so badly to share the babies with everyone who loves them.  This is just the way things are, and we make the best of it, but sometimes I almost can't stand it.

We really made sure to pack this visit with love and fun.  Andrew and Eleanor were snuggled and kissed and generally doted upon.  Andrew has been shaping up to be my most challenging 2 year old (and he's not even 2 yet...), but having him away from his brothers for a while on different territory was actually wonderfully refreshing.  Once he settled in, he was sweet as pie and I was able to enjoy him more as well.

Eleanor is the most social baby I have ever known.  She's never shy, never afraid of going to someone new.  She just loves to see people and talk and be talked to.  She never tires of attention, she (almost) never gets grumpy.  It's kind of amazing to me.  And a little scary because I'm so... well, not very social.  It appears that she may very well be a "people person" and a chatterbox and even, yes... an extrovert.  (Yeek!) Time will tell.  For the present, she charms everyone.

I greatly enjoyed the change of pace from normal life.  My siblings are just such a fun group of people, and my parents love the rare times we're all together, even though it means a lot of noise and chaos and food to cook.   We played cards until late at night, drank lots of wine, and had some rousing and hilarious discussions.  A group of us went to my sister's play --a small-town production of Shakepeare's Macbeth-- and had a lovely evening out.

We managed to get some family photos while we were all together.  We did a four-generation photo with my Mom and Grandma.  We have one from when I was a baby with my great-grandma as well.

You know how hard it is to take a family picture with little kids clowning around and/or crying?

Yeah, well, I'm thinking that never really changes.

And before we knew it, the week was over, and we had to get back to real life.

I miss those people.