December has thrown blogging out the window.  It's been kind of nice actually, but I don't want to forget the details of the season.

We had our ward Christmas party, including a visit from the big S.C. Lily was scared of his jolly old self from clear across the room, so we didn't even attempt a picture with her. Is it only my kids (the older ones included) that always get shy in front of Santa? They never look him in the face and Ty always looks like he's being tortured. Their voices are barely audible when they answer him in one word only responses. It's a shock Santa is ever able to get their gifts right... proof that Christmas magic lives on.

Maggie had the opportunity to participate in a small, but incredibly talented children's choir that sang with our stake choir and orchestra at this year's Christmas concert.  That's right - our stake has its own orchestra.  They are amazing!  Children have never been asked to be a part of the concert before.  The choir is unbelievable!  They practice once a week year round along with the orchestra, performing a few times a year.  We were so excited that Maggie was asked to participate.  It was a lot of hard work, but so rewarding.  She did great and we were so proud of her.  I don't have a single picture to show for it all.  Grrr.  Just know that she was cute.  Very cute. 

The hunt for the perfect Christmas tree is always one of our favorite parts about Christmas.  It seems like fewer and fewer families are buying fresh trees, but for us that's how it will forever be.  Yes, the needles are a mess.  Yes, it's always tricky getting the tree to stand (and remain) straight.  But there is absolutely nothing that can duplicate the scent of the real thing.  LOVE it.  I love that when visitors walk through our front door they are drawn to the fragrant, real tree.  And of course everyone wants to run their fingers through the needles, sending a few more to the floor.  That's ok though.  It's all part of the experience.

In true cheap frugal decorator fashion I have a fast and easy Christmas craft to share.  I tested this one out at the church ladies' white elephant gift exchange over the weekend.  I figured if no one else liked it, who cares!  It's a white elephant.  It's ok if it's ugly (but yes, deep down I would have shed a few tears if it got laughed at).  Thankfully no one laughed, and it was even pretty highly sought after.  SO.  Here's what I did:

Let us reflect on this picture for just a moment.  Claire captured this lovely moment in time, I think because she's been trying to figure out why I've been wearing a flannel blanket as a permanent accessory for 3 days.  I'm cold.  So cold.    Currently, the thermostat reads 71 degrees in the house.  It's not cold.  Why am I shivering with 30% control of my half numb fingers?   There's only one explanation, well two maybe - old people get cold easily.  I had my 32nd birthday a couple of weeks ago, and I don't think I've been warm since.  Seems like sound proof to me.  And maybe I've lived in scorchin' Vegas too long.

Here's the other thing. I've actually considered what it might be like to be the proud owner of a Snuggie.  Old.  Maybe in a nice navy blue, or a chocolate brown.  Those colors would work much better with my complexion than the cherry red.  The red is really not becoming.  The problem with the blanket draped over my shoulders is I have very limited movement without risking it slipping off my back.  A Snuggie could be so much more maneuverable and mom friendly.  I mean I'm not saying that they're fashionable or anything.  I wouldn't consider wearing one to the grocery store or probably not even to answer the front door.  But for all those hours spent at home with just the kids...I might actually consider it.  And don't worry, I'd ditch it before Reas walked in the door each evening.  I'm pretty sure a Snuggie wouldn't be healthy for our love life.

I guess you could say that if someone handed me a Snuggie and said, "This is for you," I'd secretly be happy.  And then I'd become the next closet Snuggie wearer.

Come on, admit it.  You've at least thought about it.

 




 So, here's how it all played out.  Soccer games had just ended, it was late, I was without husband.  First, there was me with a diaper bag on one shoulder and a lawn chair on the other.  Then there was screaming Lily, facing outward in my left arm, her arms and legs flailing in anger, and slipping down my body at a disturbing pace.  Then there was the stroller being dragged along in my right hand, spilling over with a picnic blanket, leftover dinner containers, trash, and sweaty socks.  Then there was Ty, covered in strawberries and 3 more in each hand, thus explaing his complete uselessness in helping me.  Then there was Claire about 20 steps behind us whining of being cold and tired,  Tired, yes.  Cold?  Well, I guess it had dropped to like 80 degrees by that time and being Vegas born...who knows, maybe she really was cold.  Did I mention I was talking on the phone too?  I was.  As we trudged onward, a nice man asked if I needed help.  Hmm.  Help?  Aren't I supposed to do this all myself?  I AM the mother and I HAVE control.  "No thanks. We're parked pretty close."  About 1.3 seconds passed by before I realized what I had just said. What!?  Did I really just turn down the help of a willing adult?  That was plain stupid.  Here I am about to drop one kid, lose another one to the crowd, and dump over a stroller full of junk, and I actually tell him I don't need his help!  I'm sure the nice man was thinking, "Dumb lady. Why doesn't she let me help her?"

I don't know why I refused his help.  Maybe because I'm so used to having a baby on the hip, holding a little hand in the other, and being loaded down with twice my weight in kid supplies, it's normal for me.   All of that is such a part of me, that I wouldn't be any more likely to ask for help managing it than I would ask someone to help me brush my teeth.  I do it because it's my job.

Here's what I realized.  I don't have to do it alone all the time.  That man was completely willing and I sort of blew him off.  I would've loved help and he obviously would've felt good about providing a chivalrous deed for a damsel  mom in distress.  Instead, neither of us got anything.

Bummer.

So, mom lesson learned today:  let others help me once in a while.

Everyone will be better off that way.