Christmas + 2015 Madness

Hang on.

Let me catch my breath.

Ok. So, 2015 was a shit show.

Yes. I just swore for the first time ever on this sweet and horribly neglected family blog (hi mom). But you know something? There is no more appropriate way to describe this past year. It was fast, furious, overwhelming, exciting, intense, sad, rewarding, the biggest learning curve of my life, and an all around blurry hurricane.

Without sounding ungrateful, I'm very ready to be done with 2015. I love the start of a new year, mostly because of the lazy power-down period between Christmas and New Years, but also because it forces me to hit the reset button.

Well, most years.

To be honest, I'm still buried deep in the game of catch up in just about every area of life, so my clean slate isn't so clean this year. But I'm sure going to make the best of the chaos and maybe even make some time for goal setting before Monday morning, when real life stings with its rude awakening.

A few things I'm hoping to implement to help get my life back in control is to start waking up at 5 am, setting clear work boundaries (working from home with two little ones is far from the walk in the park it seems), letting go of my pride (and frugal ways) by pulling the trigger on hired help in various areas, and making more time for me. That last one is a must. This past week, I used a massage gift card from MOTHER'S DAY for Pete's sake, and the massage therapist told me it was like Fight Club with all the toxins and knots in my neck and back.

But the last two weeks have been so lovely. I completely unplugged for Christmas Eve and Day for the first time since January, and it was dreamy.

The holiday festivities were more fun and rewarding than they've ever been because, children. The joy is so contagious! Some of this year's favorites were cocoa and carriage rides at Bradley Fair, our annual watching a movie and "spending the night" by the Christmas tree, and hopping in The Green Fam Polar Express (aka Honda CRV) for a Christmas light tour around Wichita.

Lyla talked about "the dancing lights" for weeks.

The holidays were kicked off with Lyla's first preschool Christmas program, and I'm absolutely positive there is nothing cuter in the world than a bunch of 3 year old's singing "Go Tell it on the Mountain". We got off to a rough start though. Lyla walked in as the "line leader", waving and beaming - she was so proud and excited to see us. But, she lost her shoe in the shuffle and started crying while all the kids filed up on stage. She was so embarrassed.

Thank goodness for her sweet preschool director who told her another girl lost her shoe too. Lyla immediately stopped crying and proudly went up to the stage. Break my dang heart.



She also felt pretty special for her fancy date night with Mom and Dad to go see The Nutcracker. We were skeptical a three year old could sit through a ballet, but she loved it. She asked questions throughout the entire show - Who is that? The mouse king isn't scary? Where are their tap shoes?

Both girls loved the holiday carriage rides, despite the 2 hour wait in the FREEZING cold. Lyla felt pretty rad that she got her own special almond milk cocoa and was so excited to pet the horse. And Addie thought she was big stuff getting to stay up late to watch a movie in her big kid chair.

After three Christmases with children, I've finally caught on to PLAN AHEAD. Sort of. We're usually left scrambling at the last minute for gifts, tools, batteries, and butter. But this year, I *tried* to plan as much as possible. I still saved all my grocery shopping until the day before Christmas Eve - which left me with a bunch of baking substitutes and fat free cheese.

We went to our church's Christmas Eve service, and Lyla was so excited to hold the candle. I only had to intervene once. Then we went to GiGi and Bots for our tradition of shrimp, mushroom soup, and dessert by the fire.

And we actually had our Christmas brunch prepped and gifts assembled all before 11:00. Success!

Christmas morning is always my favorite - those brief moments we have together as a family of four before the continued holiday rush. The girls thought their new tee-pee from Santa was the bees knees, and they giggled and squealed as they went through their stockings. 

Gabe and I decided to exchange stocking stuffers only this year because we're saving up for our big 10 year this year. 10 years - Holy moly.

And he did good. Because let me tell you, nothing screams sexy like an ergonomically correct keyboard. But it was my favorite gift, and my pre-arthritic hands are grateful.

So here's to a full-from-the-holidays heart and hope for a less-stress kind of a year!

Annual Trip to the Patch + Our Little Halloween Stinkers

Oh, this poor rusty little blog of mine.

Truth be told, I'm sad that it's taken the back burner for the last year. I wish I had the time and creative energy to write and create and document life with the littles. But I simply don't. Life has not paused for even one second since sweet Adaline was born and had my "third baby"/started a business shortly thereafter, and I don't see it slowing anytime soon.

But, my hope is to still share when I can (note to self : NO PRESSURE. Keep up when you are able!)

It has been a jam-packed fall, so crammed to the brim, that sometimes even the fun stuff has been overwhelming. But fun, nevertheless.

We made our annual trip to the Pumpkin Patch with the girls, and it didn't go quite as planned. And actually, it never really does. Lyla is usually sick or not feeling up to all the incessant pictures I feel are necessary.

We were completely unprepared for the weather - it was the first really cold day this fall with some intense Kansas-style wind. I forgot blankets for the girls, no one had jackets, and we made the mistake of getting to the patch a bit too close to lunch and nap time. Oh, and I didn't remember a bow for Addie. HOW was I going to get some good pictures with no BOW at the pumpkin patch??

We ended up running out of time for a family photo anyway, the girls got really cranky and we forgot to pick a pumpkin. #reallife But, Lyla did get to pick out a "patch" pumpkin at the gift shop for both her an Addie. For her, she picked the smallest little green gourd and named him Gordon (and slept with him every night for a week) and a little white pumpkin for Addie.

But we made some great memories, and even got a few pics anyway (thanks to Lauren who let us borrow Baby Isla's bow!)

Oh, but the Halloween festivities this year! The kiddos had a BALL and loved every bit of dressing up in their little homemade skunk costumes, and they sure didn't complain about all the extra attention. They wore their costumes FOUR times this year between dance class, trunk-or-treat at church, a friend's birthdayween, and trick or treating.

I'm still catching up from the excitement (and still sneaking candy from Ly's Halloween stash).

photo via : sally cavanaugh photography

I've found that my "homemade" costumes get simpler and simpler every year. This year, I pieced together some outfits (and used Lyla's one year birthday party outfit for Addie), glued on some faux white fur to headbands and tails, and made Lyla a tutu. I made the mistake of putting fur on cat ears - everyone thought the girls were the cutest little black and white kitties. I corrected everyone before they could even finish their sentence. Skunk costume fail.

But it was so cute seeing how excited both girls got this year. Lyla rode the wagon with her little buddy Jack, and she proudly said "trick-or-treat" AFTER getting her candy in her trick or treat bag. And Addie jabbered and kicked and squealed and clapped her hands at every house we went to.

One of the craziest, but most FUN days of the year in the books!

Happy 3rd Birthday, Lyla Beans!

Dear Lyla,

I have so many thoughts on the eve of your third birthday.

I guess I'll start by saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Sweet Girl! We've heard, "I'll be fwee on August 19th" for the last six months, and that day is finally here.

Three years, and I can still remember every vivid detail of your birth day. The moment you were first placed on my chest, the way I stayed up all night that first night putting my finger under your nostrils to make sure you were still breathing, the comfort I felt as I cradled you in my arms, how proud I was to be your mom.

This is why I adore birthdays. I love the thought of celebrating everything about you, and I love reflecting on the year.

This past year in our house can most accurately be described as, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. There was laughing and joy and exploring and moments so sweet I nearly melted into a mommy puddle of mush. But there were just as many tears, melt-downs, time-outs and power-struggles. Who knew such a tiny human could elicit such strong feelings of anger? Luckily those feelings are fleeting (for both of us), but I guess that's why they call it the terrible twos (now is not the time to tell me the year of the threenager is worse).

To be fair, this was also the year of change. We started potty training the week you turned two, (WHAT WERE WE THINKING), brought home a new baby, and mom started a business. It took most of the year for you to adjust to potty training, and some days, I think you're still adjusting to your sister. You love her more than anything in the world, but you don't love change (or sharing).

Both good days and bad, I love everything about you. From your physical features - like your pudgy toes to your protruding belly (that gets smaller by the day and makes me sad) to your amazing curly hair that you get compliments on everywhere we go. And I love seeing your personality develop, still resembling the same characteristics from when you were a baby - cautious, thoughtful, playful, sensitive and very independent. You've never been much of a cuddler, but some days, you act out until I finally figure out that you just need to be held. I love those moments. And every night you demand (we're working on this) "snuggle me, mom/dad." The day those requests end is the day my mommy heart will shrivel up.

I do not want to forget who you are on your third birthday. You are such a delight and our pride and joy!

- You are just like your dad in so many ways. You are a processor and I can see the wheels turning, as you take time to really think about things. Like upon the mention of any of your little friends, you like to talk about their moms and dads. Or anything Addie does, you point to yourself and say "I did that when I was a baby?" Or how you always want to know if our activity for the day will be before or after your nap - "I'm going to swimming after my nap, mom?" It's your point of reference for everything. Well, nap and lunch of course.

- Also like your dad, you love to have a good time. But you have your limits and hit a point when you immediately need some alone time to recharge. This is something that taken me three years to finally figure out, and I always want to respect this need. You like to explore new places but prefer to be a homebody who enjoys reading and quiet time. And you are sure to tell me (usually after a weekend full of activities), "I'm feeling grumpy today, Mom. Everybody gets grumpy sometimes."

- I love how you say "Wywa" and "Adawine", "Hickory Ickory Dock", "skeeto bite" and "Addie say umph *mimicking her grunting noises*.

- You are very particular with everything. The way you color, the way you eat and even how you play with your toys - it's so methodical. You do not like anything out of place. You can't stand sand on your feet, anything in your shoe, or water on your clothes. You notice if a piece of fuzz is sticking out of the carpet or if a blanket has a snag. Those things drives you crazy.

- You have become quite the negotiator. With everything. "No mom. I want 3 more grapes. No, I want 2 more stories. No, I want 5 more minutes of snuggle time."

- Two has been so fun because you get excited about the smallest things : You jump up and down and squeal to watch the TRASH TRUCK every Thursday. You light up when you get new socks/underwear/cup (anything new) and talk about it for the rest of the day. Or like, when Dad and I decided to take you and Addie to KC for the night just to get away, you found everything amazing : the hotel bed, the indoor swimming pool, the elevator. That was a parent win for sure.

- Your grandparents are everything to you. And the feeling is most definitely mutual. You love to pray for your Grams and Papa and GiGi and Bots. And you like to tell me, "I'm my Bots' Lyla."

- You constantly blow my mind with the things you remember. Like the other day when dad was wearing his argyle socks and you told him, "Dad, you got your new socks from Uncle Zac's wedding." (which was six months ago). Or how every time we go to the zoo and the hippos blow water out of their noses and you say, "The hippos get the bees out" because of the time months ago when Grams and Papa took you, and there were bees flying around. Or how you say things like, "where'd my little back owie go? Is it in the trash? Or in the sky with my balloon? (in reference to a balloon that flew away almost a year ago now). It's absolutely amazing (and slightly terrifying) the things you remember, kid.

- You LOVE food. This is both a good and bad thing. Good because you will eat absolutely anything. Well, anything except pizza. (I know, what kid doesn't like pizza?) Bad because food is the cause of all fights/tantrums/melt-downs. You don't have an off-switch and make yourself sick if we don't stop you. Which you do not appreciate.

- You are so innocent and sweet, and I want to preserve that as long as possible. You say things like, "I feel sad today, Mom" (usually because I won't give you cookies or something) or "Mom, will you fix my balloon? It doesn't feel very good (when the helium came out). And I often find you helping Addie when she can't reach something or "nursing" your babies or rocking your Teddy Berry and saying "shh-shh-shh" like I did with Addie when she was a newbie.

- You absolutely love all things girl right now. Like putting on my makeup, trying on my shoes and dressing up in play clothes. But, I absolutely love that you also play with trucks and trains and tools. And you love playing with all your little boy friends.

- One of the things your dad and I have noticed over anything else this year is your newfound confidence. You've never been much of a risk-taker (it's quite alright, neither is your mom) and are definitely not the first to try something new. But since we started swim class last winter, you have all kinds of confidence and love to tell us all about "stream line" and "I go back to the wall!" The first time I saw you confidently jump in the water, roll to your back and swim to the wall - my eyes welled up with tears. I was so proud and you had no fear! Swimming has helped you grow up and face your fears. (So much, in fact, that you try to jump in the water without floaties and without mom and dad present).

Oh my sweet Lyla Girl. What a wonderful year it has been. I feel a bit weepy as this year has gone so fast. And I presume the years will only continue to go faster. That's life, I suppose. But, I am so thankful to be home with you and spending quality time with you every day! I have completely and finally found my place and my comfort, and you are the one who helped me find it.

I love you more than I can even put into words. Happy Birthday to my best girl!

Merry Little Christmas

Phew. The holidays always leave me feeling a bit like I just ran a marathon. Or gave birth. Or both.

Simultaneously.

It could be the fact that we go from one family event to the next for four days straight. Or it could be that we typically have company stay with us for a few days. Or that we have friends in town from all over the world whom we make every effort to spend quality time with. Or that we throw an annual Christmas party, inviting just about everyone we've ever gone to school with and beyond.

Even though all of the hustle and bustle still took place {minus the Christmas party - we settled for a very casual Wine Wednesday with a close group of friends since many would not be in town this year}, there wasn't a bit of frazzle in me this holiday season.

It only took 8 years of "Adult Christmases" {counting since I've gotten married} to finally get the hang of this whole holiday thing.

...to where I finally have the right mindset and have learned to not sweat the small stuff.

...to prep Christmas brunch the day before, instead of the morning of.

...to be in search of great sales for gifts year-round, rather than wait until Black Friday when everything from my "saved carts" gets emptied. Only to begin back at square one in figuring out what to gift people.

...to realistically accept the fact that we won't get to everything on our holiday bucket list.

...to be okay with a dollar limit and find more creative ways to give.

...to appreciate the fact that Gabe and I tend to give the gift of experiences over material things to one another.

...to eliminate stress {as much as possible} and to embrace the sentiment of the holidays.

...to stop creating memories, and let the memories create themselves.

That's right. Memories create themselves. Who knew?

I just can't help it. I'm a sucker for sentiment. I love all things that generate something special to look back on. And I especially like to capture those memories so I can go back and remember, relive even.

But I think I can, at times, get obsessed with sentiment. And quite possibly even try to create it. And when you try to create what's pictured in your mind as perfect memories with children, it more often then not backfires. Because children, if you haven't heard, are unpredictable. Especially during the overstimulating blur of the holidays.

So, I guess after a lot of practice and self-motivating talks, I've simply learned to plan ahead for the details that can cause stress if left until the last minute. And I've also learned to let memory-making details unfold naturally.

I've also tried my best to avoid stress and embrace simple. Not that we didn't do gifts or introduce Santa or decide last-minute the week before to sand/paint/and put together a new play room for the kids. Ha! I guess embracing simple, for me, was more of a mental shift. To focus on what really matters.

And let me tell you. It may have been simpler than years past, but this was the best Christmas I can remember. {Next to the Christmas where I woke up to find Malibu Ken, a set of Pound Puppies, and a pair of "high heels" under the tree, of course}.

This year sort of felt like a first. Maybe because it was Adaline's first Christmas. But also because Lyla was just so excited and really got into the holiday spirit. She couldn't wait to wake up Christmas morning to see if Santa did in fact put "lunch" under the Christmas tree like she asked.

We hear it over and over again, but it's just so true. Experiencing the holidays through your child's eyes is even better than when you were a child yourself.

And this year was so wonderfully special.

Even though Gabe and I didn't account for the fact that Lyla and Adaline's kitchen would take 4 hours to put together. Or that Miss A blew out her sister-coordinating Christmas jammies first thing when she woke up Christmas morning...and I didn't get a single picture of her in them. Or that Lyla wanted to open every single present's plastic packaging instead of opening the remaining presents under the tree. Or that we forgot to buy coffee for Christmas brunch, and so we had to use my stocking-stuffer.

It was still perfect.

The holiday started with Lyla and I baking and decorating Christmas cookies to take to our neighbors on Christmas Eve Eve. This recipe was extra special too - one of my sorority sister's lost her mom years ago, and to honor her, my friend sent out her mom's famous sugar cookie recipe. They were delicious, and I kept thinking how special it was to be part of the fun memories that were created year after year with this recipe. I can't wait to bake them again next year! #cookiesforpaula

While the girls napped on Christmas Eve, I prepped for the Christmas brunch we host each year. I was super bummed because we had to skip Christmas Eve service this year as Gabe had to work. Bah Humbug. But I still dressed the girls up before we headed to GiGi and Bots' house for our traditional chow-down on shrimp, cheese, mushroom soup, and fudge.

 Lyla is going through a new {hopefully} phase where she is nervous around the camera

GiGi and Bots sure know how to make a Christmas Eve spread. If only I had a picture of it. Luckily, I did get a picture of Lyla trying ginger beer for the first time. She felt sooo big because we were all drinking Moscow Mules and she got to drink ginger beer out of a fancy Fostoria glass. She has been saying "more ginger beer" ever since.

After rushing home to tuck in the kiddos, we got started on Operation Kitchen Project. It was 9:30, mind you. Four hours later, and thanks to the best husband and daddy of all time, we had a play kitchen! The girls slept until 8:30 Christmas morning, which was the best gift of all because I still had some dish-prepping to do. And even though it totally takes away from the romanticism of Lyla waking up and running out of bed to see what Santa put under the tree, we went in to get her {because she doesn't get out of her bed} and fed her pre-brunch breakfast first. I mean, she's two and wanted "lunch" for Christmas. Girlfriend has to eat. So after breakfast, we dug into the stockings and presents under the tree.

Wearing Mama's old holiday dress

And then the BIG REVEAL. Santa's Elves decided to finally complete the last room in our house. It only took 4 years. The trim and walls were painted and shelves were stocked with current toys to make a play room. {One that is not yet complete. Like, it has exposed outlets. But that's neither here nor there. Because I'm avoiding stress...remember?} And of course the four hour kitchen was revealed as well.

Then we topped off the rest of our four-day-Christmas-extravaganza with more family, food, and merriment.

And that is what I like to call a merry little Christmas.

**Oh. And I just want to give a special shout-out to my saint of a mother-in-law. Who spent her entire day-after-Christmas rummaging through bags upon bags of garbage to find an ornament we misplaced. Only to find it in the very last place she looked: the garbage bin at the curb ready to be picked up in the morning.

That, my friends, is what we call the Christmas spirit.