What Matters

http://www.curvemag.com/Blogs/Hook-Up-Blog/Web-Articles-2011/Trouble-In-Mind/

That blog up there is right on. Read it. I’ve been in that relationship, the one where they track every single move, literally wait outside the bathroom door, follow you places, snoop through your stuff and emotionally abuse you. I didn’t really realize until I was out of it, and seeing the way the manipulation was happening to people around me, to my friends and the lies that were being spewed around, that it was downright abuse. No one should have to feel that way and be manipulated and coerced into being with someone. That is prison, it felt like prison, dude, it was prison and I will never ever be in that relationship again. I’ll be honest, sometimes I felt like the only way out for me was to just disappear, and I often contemplated it.

I have never felt like that, and never will with Melany.

We inspire each other to grow and change, to go out into the world and do the things that we love and care about. Though we don’t often do much apart, it’s because we choose to be together. We love each other and genuinely enjoy the time we spend with each other.  After almost two years together, I’m still falling more and more in love with her. Everyday that I wake up and she’s snuggled with me in our bed, I get butterflies. Our life isn’t ‘perfect’ (see last blog. Ha.) but it is our life, and we are working extremely hard together to achieve our dreams, and build each other up, and love love love. Through the hardest times, we’ve still gone to bed together in love and happy.

Like Stephanie said in the blog, there is a very distinct list of things that symbolize “success” . The home, the new cars, the dinners out, the designer clothes. We do our fair share of cool things, and we are surrounded with fantastic, fun, creative friends who we love spending time with, our kids are happy (except the teething three year old with nasty molars coming in, but that’s another story) and adventurous things on the horizon. We may not be able to go out to La Belle Vie every week, or even every month, but we’ve gotten to be mean cooks in the kitchen, and I love a Chipotle picnic as much as anything else.

I would never see my relationship as a prison…as some tight rubber band that needs to be vice-gripped to be good. We give our relationship room to breath, room to have conflict and voice our opinions, we give lots of room for patience and grace as well. Forgiveness and understanding, and every single day we touch base and remember that we are together because we are madly in love with each other, not because we made some sort of agreement to be together.

I guess, coming from this place, I can see how lucky I am to have ended up here.

Perhaps everything that we’re going through right now, is to remind us to be humble, and to also remind us that at the end of the day, kindness and love are really the only things that matter. (Thank you Jewel. Ha.)

So, things are good.

Well, I’m back. Not really, but sort of. So far 2012 has been a veritable grab-bag of wins and losses, triumphs and setbacks, all culminating in these last weird couple of days. When I reflect on how I’m feeling right now, I just imagine this weird pile of mud. No seriously. Life is really hard right now…complicated and interesting, endlessly frustrating and tiring. There are some days I wish I wasn’t so driven to do what I love. Inspired by the relentless pull of our passion for the arts, Melany and I are unable to be reigned in by the man. Before I sound too much like a character on Portlandia (my new obsession), I will say I am down to work and work hard, but I’m just not programmed to feed this greedy, weird world by doing one of the many pre-approved trades. In the past month we’ve been royally fucked over by the law (thank you Canada and your divorce-proof marriages, and American lawyers who charge us a thousand bucks for doing nothing) , by greedy corporations who have no direction and end up laying off almost their entire workforce leaving families stranded. And thank you, commercialism for having a never ending grip on our psyche, but not enough jobs in this desperate island of a state to need people to write your advertisements. And perhaps this is my somewhat debilitating sense of empathy talking, but if I see people I care about (or even at one point in my life cared about) struggling, I’d do my darndest to accommodate their success…or even their not-completely-flailing. Fuck people disappoint me. And that’s another thing. In this weird day, I’ve learned that the people who I most expect to be dicks weren’t, and the people I most expected to care didn’t. Big surprise. I am always giving people too much credit…laughing jovially when things are going well, nodding with suburban-Mom understanding eyes, but when things really get stripped down, I need to remember no one really, at the end of the day, cares about anyone but themselves. So, yay. That’s inspiring.

Today on Twitter, JD Samson posted something to the effect of if every follower donated a dollar she’d be a lot less worried about the future. WOW, what a coincidence! Me too! I’d be able to pay my electric bill. Or buy groceries. Or actually put a full tank of gas in my family’s cars! But, you know what, I don’t expect people to think I’m that great, and for some reason that tweet and that sense of entitlement, or gesture of some strange self-satisfaction (probably coupled with the exact moment I saw it) made me feel really angry.

We heard a statistic today that Minnesota has the highest rate of unemployment over New York. That people with Masters and Doctorates are standing in the welfare lines because this state is a fucking dry well of nothingness as far as jobs go. I’ve never felt so utterly stuck and angry and frustrated and sad, and no one deserves to feel like this. To feel like our family is stuck in this position that we’re in for…what? Why should we feel this way? It’s not fair. It’s not okay. It’s just not going to go on. It’s really that simple. We’re not going to be stuck anymore.

I started 2012 with so many hopes and dreams, and though the fun projects are still there, and the inspiring stuff is around the corner, it’s just not enough anymore to keep me going. We need things to start happening.

Shake It Out is my anthem right now…and like Queen Florence says, It’s Always Darkest Before the Dawn. I’m betting on that.

 

zoo confessions…

This post (http://www.katiespencilbox.com/2011/08/beauty.html) from my most favorite blog ever serves as inspiration to me in our own family.

We have a big family. It started with two moms and two kids and it changed and grew to be two homes and four moms and two really, really loved kids.

We were at the zoo the other day and Stella struck up a conversation with the lady in front of us in line. I wasn’t paying much attention, the little one was grabbing at me, and then I heard Stella say “I have four moms!” proudly to the shocked woman. The woman looked at me, confused and slightly horrified. I said “Yep! Stella has four moms!”, pretending not to be surprised myself at our little chatter’s confession to a perfect stranger.

It was my first of what I expect to be many proud proclamations of multiple parenthood. I just wanted to clarify to the woman that it was a split lesbian parent home, not a sister wives to Cody Brown home. Ha.

Either way, there’s room for love, for growth, for each mom to bring something unique to the table, and room for our kids to grow in a family of women who love love love them.

Grumpkin Days…even though its sunny.

Support.

Every person needs it, and I’m finding out now just how much its needed and appreciated. No family is an island. Ha. I’ve been feeling off today, and I’m not sure why. It’s been a day of grumpkin kids, a mom who is in pain, and a mommy trying to keep it together. I’m so sick of being in pain. I’m sick of waiting for jobs and phone calls. Okay, there I said it. My two pains wearing heavy on my heart…out in the open. I have gone off my pain killers, but being on non-narcotics isn’t helping much, especially with my new exercise fanaticism. I don’t know what to do. So, instead of doing anything, I burst into tears after finding out the exercise room had people in it and called my doctor, but because of my panicked tearfulness (I covered up the actual tearful part) I think I came off like a freaky drug-seeker and scared the nice receptionist when I said “But, I feel like I’m just at the end of my rope. I’m in so much pain and don’t have any insurance and I need help from you!”

Needless to say I got a curt but polite “She’ll be happy to help you in person next week.” Thanks, lady.

Melany and I were just talking about how the girls must be able to sense when we’re low on resources and energy and that’s when they choose to attack us with relentless demands and attention-seeking behavior. Ha. Those kids. What stinkers. I mean that in the most adoring of ways, of course

We had a lovely day yesterday, though, and a beautiful weekend. We went to the water park for a little birthday celebration for Lucie. The girls had a blast and I saw all of the beautiful parts of them come shining out. In an environment just begging for a tantrum they both held it together (until the verrrrry end) and had a blast. Lucie was so independent and sweet and smiled wildly and went down the slide a million times, and Stella found her big sister groove and went down her slides, being sure to check in every couple of minutes.

I went down the big slide, and somehow started backwards and it was HORRIBLE. I was looking forward to this slide since the moment we decided to go to Waterpark of America. You can see this huge slide from the highway, jutting out of building with ominous swirly-ness and I went down right before Stella and Melany and I somehow started backwards and it was the scariest minute of my life. I felt like I was going to tip backwards the whole time. Then I tried to turn myself and banged against the side. Then I shot out of the bottom backward with nothing but an a very stoic look of disapproval on my face. I waited for the girls and when they came out laughing and cheering, and asked if I was going to go again I said “Absolutely not” and went and found the rest of our clan.

I’m trying to focus on all of the lovely things I’ve been blessed with…and am learning to cherish all of the little moments. The little moments are what make a beautiful life. To me, those are more important than the big events that are usually too full of pressure to be that much fun anyway.

We are praying and hoping for a break, and for opportunity to pour itself into our world again, but I’m also realizing that it has already started to. And every moment of every day should be optimized…filled with love, and hard work, and opportunity seizing and ballsy email writing, kissing cheeks and encouraging words.

So, I guess if I can get past the pain, mellow out and work with what we got, life can be pretty swell.

 

The Princess Problem

The girls and I watched Snow White this morning. I was sick of watching Lion King, “the shark show”, or for the love of Pete, Little Freaking People, so I pulled out my personal collection of favorite Disney movies from my youth. They picked Snow White from the bunch, they’d never seen it, and we piled into the kids’ room to watch old school style on VHS. I took a walk down memory lane as I remember Sleeping Beauty and Snow White to be my all-time favorite Disney movies. Personally I feel like they jumped the shark with Aladdin. I don’t really know why, but that movie is like ice cream to me. I think I don’t like it until I have it and then I’m like, oh it’s okay.

Anyway.

I know I’m supposed to hate all Disney movies because I’m a woman and I don’t need no Prince(ss) to save me, but I LOVE the older movies, the ones that were voiced by glamorous women from the 1930s and had that beautiful vintage-y aesthetic that is currently (and always) making me swoon.

I have a Disney problem, though. The examples these women set isn’t very good, I mean, if you want to get all political, which I’m not sure I do. Like, oh hey I’m so beautiful people hate me, then I run away and cook and clean for men, then I come back from the dead or a deep sleep because a Prince kissed me, then I bail on my people.

Seriously…Snow White was all “We’re all together, we love each other! Me and the dwarves, kickin’ it, together forever”

Then, as I hadn’t seen it in a long time, I sort of figured that Snow White and the Prince would bring all of the dwarves and the cute little forest animals back to the  castle together, or better yet, they’d build a little house together next to the Dwarves’ home. I feel bad saying dwarves.

Anyway…no! She kissed her people goodbye and ran away into the sunset with the Prince! She ditched her friends!

Now, more than the whole Princess being saved thing, because if I were passed out from a deadly apple, I’d want a kiss to be woken up too, I was mad she ditched her people for a man (or, in our case, it would be a woman). That’s the message that rubbed me the wrong way more than anything.

Nowadays I prefer Pixar movies, because let’s be real, the Disney princess thing is really old. And, for the record, no matter how much I love the old classics (the first three Disney movies) I will never, I repeat never, buy anything Disney princess for the kids. Somehow, some princess things have snuck into our house but we save those for ‘gotta do laundry’ occasions.

On a totally different note, I’ve been feeling very Anne Hathaway pre-makeover in Princess Diaries lately.

 

 

My hair is ridic long and thick and frizzy with no real shape or style. It’s time for my woman to get out ye old scissors and work her magic. My daily work outs are bringing this frumpy stay at home mom back to life. My goal, lofty but attainable, is to be quote “in the best shape of my life” by my 30th Birthday.

Look out high school Janelle…this girl’s gonna blow you outta the water!

 

saturday bits

“I’m glad you’re with me,” she said sweetly.

“I’m glad I’m with you,” I replied.

It’s been one of those days…the days that start early, run hard and finally settle after the littlest sister’s nap and have us doing animal impressions (sad panda is a favorite) by only the Christmas tree light because suddenly day turned into evening without us noticing much.

Day two of working out went spendidly and I can already tell this new ritual will be cleansing for both my mind and my body.

I’ve been reading a new blog I’m just in love with, Katie’s Pencil Box, and have been sort of a fanatic and reading her entire backlog…swooning at the beautiful pictures. It’s been really inspiring to me as I ponder the future of my own blog.

As a weekend recap, in case anyone cares, a list of things I’m loving

1. Winter Berries Bonne Bell. It was a present to the girls from Santa, but no one really notices that I keep in my purse. Or my pocket. Or with me always.

2. Magical Thinking

3. Breaking Bad. We still haven’t decided if we like or not, but we keep turning it on anyway. To be determined.

4. Reading: Respectful Parents, Respectful Kids

5. The smell of the littlest sister’s breath is super cute and comforting. Not to mention her cuteness is her saving grace as she navigates the twos (almost to be three! Tomorrow we celebrate her birthday with a big family trip to the indoor waterpark!)

6. Job searching. I don’t love it, who does, but it’s fun to make up a different future for every day.

7. Late night talks and giggles with my love

8. Organizing and prematurely spring cleaning

9. Till the World Ends channel on Pandora. Don’t hate. That sh*t makes me dance!

10. Planning for upcoming friendy visits and hopeful spring fun!

Also, a very happy birthday to my best childhood friend and veritable sister, Melanie. We’ve been through a lot together over the 25 years we’ve been friends (omg we need to have a quarter century friendship anniversary!) She was the first to be there, and now we always stand by each other’s sides. I love her and hope this year is the best year yet!

How Britney Spears is bringing me back…

Once upon a time, a long long time ago, I was a figure skater. From the time I strapped my first pair on at age 4 or 5 (I can never remember), I was a skater. My dad (or mom, but usually my dad) would wake up with me at the crack of dawn every Saturday and take me to the rink to go to lessons. I was in shows…most memorably my Hey Hey We’re the Monkees routine I did when we were, like, 7. I just got more and more into it and started passing tests and all of a sudden I was a skater. Like, the wake up before school at 5 to train with my private coach kind of skater. Like, had custom boots and dresses kind of skater.

I won’t say I was really good, but I was really serious. For kicks I’d sit in on trainings with the hockey boys and kick their asses in killers. I loved the rush of the speed and feeling that powerful and agile. I was in competitions and I loved it.

I was in shape. I was powerful. Throughout that time I also played tennis and dug that, too. It wasn’t as serious, but my point is that I was…don’t laugh…athletic.

When I was 16 or 17 (I can never remember), I was in a competition at the Apple Valley High School rink and I fell. I fell hard. On my tailbone. I wasn’t able to finish my routine, and I skated off the ice knowing that everything was going to change.

The details around all of this are fuzzy, but I went to the doctor and my back was screwed up and I had two choices a) stop skating (the jumping was going to be too much of an impact on my spine and just perpetuate the injury) or b) get surgery and therapy and keep skating.

At that point, I knew I wasn’t destined for Kristi Yamaguchi-level success anyway, I had sort of lost the motivation behind it, and I decided to quit.

I kid you not, every time I’m in Burnsville I drive by my old rink and reminisce. The smell reminds me of my whole childhood, and I love it .

After that, I got into theater, and graduated high school and started college and started gaining weight. I wasn’t really doing anything to keep in shape and my body type definitely warrants hard work to keep it in shape.

Since then I’ve gained a million pounds. I’ve gone up and down gaining and losing the same 40 pounds. It’s, as you would say, an “issue” of my adult life.

I always had a hard time getting into exercising…I thought exercising would like, damage my indie street cred or something. I’m not even kidding. For my early twenties, I was very misguided. I thought it would make me preppy and I didn’t want that. Ha. Wow.

Anyway…so, a while ago I lost almost 50 pounds on South Beach coupled with exercising, and then…over the course of the last four years gained it back. I’m just being honest. I’ve learned a lot about my body and my little engine needs to RUN to keep moving. I’ve waved as I’ve gone up and down past my “never to weigh again unless I’m 9 months pregnant weight”.

It seems strange that at 28, I’m relearning what I knew when I was a teenager. My body likes to move. When I start moving, it responds quickly, muscles wake up, metabolism revs and I see results really quickly.

So, today, I was feeling really frustrated with the cycle that has been ‘hurt, rest, hurt, move a little, feel bad, feel lazy, feel frustrated, feel like my body, MY body, the skater and tennis player, fit and healthy body is hidden down deep down in my un-fit, stuck in a rut body’. SO, I put on an ill-fitting work-out ensemble, kissed my girls goodbye and went to our work out room.

And I killlllled it. I moved until it felt like my legs were going to fall off. I was determined to move until I felt like me, the fit healthy, figure skater me was in there somewhere fighting to get out. I blasted Rihanna (We Found Love), Britney (Til the World Ends) and Katy Perry (ET) amongst others and just ran. I even ran.

And you know what? When the chorus kicked for Til the World Ends, I felt that me. The felt like there’s hope for my body to go back to normal, to shed this unhealthy disguise I’ve worn for a while now. To be healthy and fit and light.

I felt, for the first time in a long time, that if jumped, I just might be able to fly.

The Year of Wild Success!

Alright, you guys. Happy New Year! Happy 2012! Happy Year of Enlightenment!

I’ve been MIA because I haven’t had much to say, and well, that’s a lie, yes I have, I’ve started about 4 posts then stopped for various reasons.

But, I’m coming to you now to proudly pronounce this year as the Year of Wild Success. Yes, 2012 is going to be the year of wild success. You heard me.

We’re deep into the production of our new film project and I had NO idea what I was getting into when we first threw this thought around. But, now that we’re seeing it get fleshed out, and the characters coming alive and the stories writing themselves we’re SO excited it’s sick. Yesterday we danced around maniacally in the dining room when storyboarding the trailer. I may have danced, actually. But, whatever.

We’re also gearing back up for the 2012 Festival season for Bring It 2 Peter and hopefully that will be exciting and fun. It’s sort of like winning the lottery, and it’s a fun way to sort of throw your film out there and see what sticks.

In addition to our film projects, we just finished up a big thing for the magazine, which should be out in a month or so. AND, I was just assigned a majorly awesome assignment that I’m SUPER passionate about and can’t wait to start working on. This one hits really close to home and is not music related. And it involves a celesbian. Fun, fun, fun.

Tied into that project, I’m also looking at embarking on a bigger journey of my own as well (see? this is the Year of Wild Success!) and in the next month or so I’ll be launching something exciting (thank God I date a web designer! ha) that will hopefully fill a void and can start a dialogue.

I know this vaguery is probably irritating and ego-maniacal, but I can’t help but talk about it because I’m so passionate about my career right now and simultaneously under contract not to talk about any of it. It’s the first time in…well, a long time if ever, that I’ve felt like I hit the nail on the head of exactly what I’m wanting to be doing. I enjoyed my year as a stay-at-home mom and I may continue to do that on and off (afterall, freelancing isn’t really a go to an office sort of job) but, I just feel really pulled toward my career and writing and creating.

It’s sort of this balance that I’m trying to reconcile in myself. I am only 28, and I have a long way to go before where I am comfortable with where I’m at professionally, and I can’t go for that, if I’m putting all of my daily energy into other things (not speaking of the kids, because duh, I love them, but more to the effect of laundry, dishes, dusting, stupid stuff.)

I feel like my priorities have been really skewed as of late, and as we’ve been navigating this time of struggle and searching for jobs and searching for direction and asking God “Why us?” This struggle, towards the end of 2011, made me really sad and hopeless and I struggled with anger and jealousy and a great lot of feelings I’m not proud of. I’m a Finn, I have Sisu! We rise to the challenge of life. I’ve stayed thankful for all of our abundant blessings, our healthy kids, my generous and loving family, food on the table and our friends and  community.

I found this great article about 2012 and the real Maya predictions and let me say, I am on f*cking board for this enlightened shift we are going to make. I’m sick of rampant materialism, consumerism, banks having a monopoly on our money, evil, disease, power and money. As we enter into the 5th World, I am open and ready to bring my family to this place. Where there is less hate and inequality, more one-ness with each other and our land. For a long time I was really afraid of 2012. I can remember driving in my car in junior year of high school listening to Incubus’ Certain Shade of Green and being pierced with fear when they’d say “2012 AD…what are you waiting for, a certain shade of green?” and then I’d be like Yeah whatever, I’ll be so old I won’t care. I must have had a hard time doing math, because 28 is not old, and I have a LOT of my life to still live.

And really, how likely is it that the ‘rapture’ will happen? That suddenly out of nowhere people will beam up to Heaven and buildings will collapse? I’m sorry, but sounds like some crazy Sci-Fi shit. I really am on board with this whole stars aligning for the first time in a million years thing. And the way things have been going, with tsunamis and earthquakes, OWS, the economy…I mean, hello? What other signs do we need that something isn’t right? All of the hate and greed in this world? Really.

So…anyway. I’ve had way too much coffee and am obviously on a rant. I just scared Melany with my insane ramblings and aggressive behavior (maybe it was when I did a “Night at the Roxy” move at her and cornered her in the kitchen while singing the Kendra theme song…)

We’re having a lovely date day today and after our morning of work, we will be shuttin’ down and going on an adventure!

 

Movie Night…

So, last night we were in the mood for a documentary as we are super bummed our run with Stephen Fry’s America is over. At first we thought we’d watch Forks Over Knives, a food doc about health problems in America. A little light viewing. Ha. We started watching it and instantly thought better of it as we just had made cookies and were determined to not feel bad about eating them.

So, thinking it’d be along the charming lines of Moonshiners, we picked the Wild Wonderful Whites of West Virginia. We were seriously mistaken. It was an hour and a half of the most vile behavior. Pill snorting, murders, robberies,  smoking, pregnant women f*cked up out of their minds, kids being around people smoking pot…and it was made to look fun and wild.

It stuck with me, obviously, as I’m feeling so compelled to write about it. It is based on the White Family of Boone County West Virginia…dubbed the “Last Outlaw Family.” Most members have been killed, some are in jail, and the rest of the family are on disability and engage in criminal behavior, made to look glamorous and fun.

Johnny Knoxville produced the movie, and is set in the same tone as most MTV productions. Lots of music, spastic camera angles, lots of ‘loud loud and wild!’

The last scene of the movie, the now matriarch of the family is musing upon the fact that she thinks all members of the White family will end up going to hell, and the camera spins around at the mayhem around her…kids smoking cigarettes and drinking beer while she laughs maniacally.

This is a sad film, at its core. It’s a glimpse at a sad life, a product of poverty, a poor mining town, and Appalachian mountain culture. Before I sound too “suburban white girl”, I’ll defend my stance by saying that it just made me uncomfortable. Melany, who grew up in Ontonagon County, said she knew people who acted like that, and it’s not that weird for small rural towns to be so steeped in poverty and desperation that they do anything they can to escape their own sadness (I’ve added that last part, but she’s alluded to that fact before).

Part of me feels angry that a film glorifying such behavior (there are parts that are made to look like snorting lines of Vicodin and shotgunning pot smoke are average party behaviors) is so popular. It was a ‘festival darling’ and Robert DeNiro actually picked it up for distribution after screening at TriBeca.

After the movie, I felt shell-shocked and wanted to cuddle my kids and watch the  Golden Girls. Then I think, maybe that’s the point.

I read a director’s interview and he was saying don’t the down and out people get to have their stories told? Don’t they matter? Then I thought, duh, yes.

I’m not sure what the story was supposed to be, and Melany and I both wondered if the director knew what direction he wanted to go in. Are we to love the Whites? Or feel bad for the Whites? To support them, or look down on them? There wasn’t any clear directive, when used cleverly in a film that can be thought provoking and smart, but in this story it made the whole thing feel like an afternoon movie played on MTV.

Then…it made me think of poverty and class differences and how everyone’s struggles affect us differently. “Hillbilly” is the way they would describe themselves, and there are plenty of hillbillies in America. People are proud of that identity. The confederate flag, the Marlboros, the beer, the lifestyle. I think spaghetti strap tank tops and smoking around kids. The Kid Rock and Big and Rich on the stereo. I’m probably dipping into controversial territory. It’s the disability stereotype…everyone is collecting from the government but doing nothing for it. They have shotguns on the counter when the kids are around. These people, in my experience only, tend to be dangerously conservative, thus why I feel angry and threatened by them. Like rural renegades they wave the flag of freedom but don’t feel like they have to do anything for the communities they are a part of.

This is not to say that I’m some big, buy into the government enthusiast. Come on…I’m pro OWS and this is a government that won’t even recognize my relationship.

It just feels like there’s a very large sense of entitlement from the people in this film, and their reckless behavior made me uncomfortable. And again, maybe that was the point.

To turn the camera on people who aren’t America’s definition of “beautiful and successful and interesting” can be the best way for people to realize what is important and valuable to each of us…and that can be very different. And maybe, just maybe, that was the point of the film.

 

The Holiday

Merry Day after Christmas. I’ve discovered that this is also now known as Unpackage and Assemble Day here at our house. Since the kids were up, I’ve been unwrapping, assembling, and played a rigorous two round game of Sorry! with the 6 year old. She has a sneaky way of playing, sometimes. Just saying.

We had a seriously wonderful holiday. Best ever, to be honest. It still feels like it’s  going, with our house full of toys and wrapping and the fact that my breakfast consisted of Tadberries (my Grandma’s best favorite most awesome cookie ever).     We had Christmas Eve at my Grandma’s house, the ‘fancy’ Grandma’s house, and I’m always nervous when we bring the girls over there because I’m scared they will tear her fancy house apart. There I go, underestimating our brood again, because they were awesome. They were so nice and funny and sweet and when their presents were opened, they were opened and they didn’t make a peep about wanting for more. It made me proud. I know how hard it can be as a kid to have control when it comes to a holiday in which they are showered with gift after gift. Once they’re on a roll and the present train ends, there’s always a moment of ‘but waitttttt….morrrre!’

After an ill-fated trip to Wal-Mart (don’t ask. Don’t. Ask.) we ended up going home while the kids had Christmas with their other moms and we cleaned house and prepared for the girls’ arrival on the most exciting night of the year!

The girls came home, and we ended up having a four mom social hour before the kids (way past their bedtime) tucked in for a long winter’s nap. But, let’s be real here, it was not long. Stella woke up before Lucie is a shocking turn of events and came creeping to our bedside at 6:22 am. Santa came and left chocolate mice (I was really too excited at the creepy idea of chocolate mice…I mean, how weird, right?) amongst other goodies and fun stuff.

We spent the day playing with toys and battling against colds, but the girls were little champions. We went to do some filming and visiting at good family friends’ house and we had a ball. The little girls were well entertained by friends while we got some work done, before we headed over to Auntie Pam’s house for Neese family festivities. It was filled with fun and family and gifts for all and heaps of holiday foods and treats and tons of little girls! There were five little blonde kids running around causing serious hijinks.

Towards the end of the party, Grandma discovered she lost her wedding ring in all of the hullabaloo. Major buzzkill. The kids were getting sleepy so we had to bolt, but Grandma was really sad about this.

Just a little bit ago, Stella was digging through gift bags that were set to go in the Misc. Things We’ll Forget About Closet and as she started pilfering through a bag of tinsel when DING! I heard the clink of metal ding off the table. It was Grandma’s wedding ring! It was a Christmas Miracle! Stella and her naughtiness saved the day! Way to go Stella!

Well, that brings us up until this moment. Grandma’s on her way over to get it, the kids are getting way too bombastic to keep in the house all day, and we’re leaving to do some fun stuff to be determined.

Hope everyone enjoyed their Christmas