12 Days of Christmas

My hubby and I like the Dallas Cowboys. I mean we really like the Dallas Cowboys. Alright, I am a HUGE fan, and my husband has what borderlines on an unhealthy love/obsession for the Cowboys. I call our living room a shrine to the Cowboys somewhat jokingly. We are members of the True Blue Fan Club, subscribe to Cowboys Weekly, and our closets are filled with Cowboys jerseys. My family and friends know better than to call during a Cowboys game, and my hubby is incredulous that people would dare schedule a birthday party for their child on a Sunday during football season ("don't they know the COWBOYS are playing right now?").

So it goes without saying that our kids are Cowboys fans, too. About a week ago, E and C decided that the Cowboys deserve to have their own Christmas song, and thus was born the Dallas Cowboys 12 Days of Christmas. Feel free to sing it at your house, and don't be surprised if it is on the radio by next holiday season.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, the Cowboys gave to me:

Twelve signed footballs

Eleven cheerleaders cheering

Ten stars a' shining

Nine touchdown dances

Eight pro-bowl players

Seven interceptions

Six giant fatheads

Five superbowl riiiiiings

Four forced fumbles

Three awesome helmets

Two Romo jerseys

and a ticket to the Superbowl Game

Laundry woes

My hubby and I split many chores, and laundry is one that falls on my side of the list. I don't mind laundry, but after a week without a working dryer, I was WAY behind. Now that all appliances are in working order, my kids finally have clean socks and underwear, and my mountain of dirty clothes has worked it's way down to a manageable hill, I decided to share with the world (or my handful of blog readers) my laundry woes.

Socks- Not only is there a pile of socks with no mates at the end of every basket, but matching socks is like a jigsaw puzzle. There are 6 different pairs of feet in my house, and while the kids only have one or two types of sockes (N has some with lines, and some with grey toes; K has plain pink toes, and some with girly patterns), the hubby has an endless variety. He has long socks, ankle socks, and some in between; grey toes, grey soles, plain white, some with a stripe, some that say "Hanes". I won't lie, some (ahem, most) weeks, I leave all the socks in a basket and let the family find their own matches.

Pockets full of stuff- Luckily, E has finally broken the "crayon in the pocket" habit. There were several years of shirts and pants with crayon markings on them. We have also moved past the "MP3 player in the pocket" stage- or it could be that we stopped supplying MP3 players (and they wonder why we won't shell out $200 for an Ipod). Unfortunately, both E and C are hanging in the "DS games in the pocket" stage. Which means few DS games have titles on them, since the stickers have washed off. On the plus side, DS games are resilient and work after several trips through the washer.

Clean clothes in the laundry- my kids have been known to leave some clean clothes on the floor of their room either because they didn't have room to fit shirts/pants in their drawer or just didn't feel like putting their laundry away. And of course, anything on the floor finds its way to the laundry basket downstairs eventually. I'm sure I wash more clean clothes than I realize, but occasionally I catch a clean shirt before it enters the washer, and it is followed by the typical "do you think I wash clothes because I like it?" speech met by their blank stares (b/c of course Mom likes to do laundry).

And finally- All the clothes that need to be pulled apart or turned around before being returned in a neat, clean pile. There are the balled up socks, with all their dirty, sweaty grossness. Should I undo them (EWWW) or wash them as they are (they won't get REALLY clean that way). Shirts inside out- I can't help but turn them right, but one day when I dial down my laundry OCD, I swear I'm gonna leave 'em be. And in the winter, shirts inside of shirts. I am all about layering to stay warm, but can't you take the layers apart for me?

Many have suggested that I let the kids help with the laundry, or let them takeover the chore entirely. And I've thought about it, really I have. One small problem, it has to be folded a certain way, and the stacks of laundry have to be stacked the right way. I've tried to teach them, but I'm pretty sure it is going to take several drinks (for them and me*) to make it through that lesson. Yup, as laid back as I think I am, I am completely Type-A, OCD when it comes to laundry. I've even caught myself refolding clothes my hubby has folded and rearranging the piles (he just can't get them right). So until we move to a nudist colony**, I guess I better keep this pile of laundry moving.

*Don 't worry, I wouldn't really give the kids drinks while teaching them to fold laundry, although it couldn't make their dewrinkling and folding any worse. If I ever try to teach them the right way to fold pants and shirts, I will spring for the years of counseling they will surely need. Or maybe it would be cheaper to hire a maid. Hmmm.

**Do they ever wear clothes in a nudist colony? I bet they do in the winter. Must do research.

Dinner Stand Off

G is two years and not quite two months--officially old enough to be part of the "Terrible Twos". I know from developmental psychology classes that this is a time when he will try to assert his independence. I know as a mom that this is the time I need to be calmest or the battle will rage for much longer than necessary.

Now, B never gave me but so much trouble. G, however, is a redhead, and he has the fiestiness to prove it. Luckily, I worked as a middle school teacher for twelve years. Bring it, Baby.

Monday night's menu: ham, mashed potatoes, and lima beans. G loved limas as a baby. He adores bacon now. Who doesn't like mashed potatoes? Still, he refused dinner. During the twenty minutes when B and I ate, he sat in his high chair and announced that he wasn't going to eat "this dinner." That's a shame, really, since I'm mass producing cookies this week. I'd answer, "If you don't taste dinner, you can't have a cookie later."

He refused. He "had to go potty" (though he didn't actually have a deposit). He took a few bites of mashed potatoes while I cleaned up from B's and my dinner. He got down afterwards, and played until he had a real potty break. After the successful pee, he announced, "Now I get a coo-kie!"

"No, G. Cookies are for those who ate dinner tonight."

I kid you not at this point. I assure you, that even though he's only two, he feigned surprise and asked sweetly, "Oh, I gotta eat dinner?"

I took deep breaths, cussed in my head, asked him if he was TRYING to make me crazy (for the record, he answered, "Yeth. Yeth, ma'am.") He got no cookie.

Tuesday's menu: pizza. I was trying to help him, by choosing one of his faves for dinner on this cookie night. He ate just a couple bites, then stalled til it was snickerdoodle-producing time. I balled up the sugar cookie dough, dumped it in his bowl of sugar and cinnamon, and he'd spoon the mixture over the dough. His uneaten pizza sat just a foot or two away on the table.

"I gonna eat this dough," he said as he swiped one from the bowl and took a bite.

Now, I am big on sanitary while baking. I know him well enough to know he'd put it back in the bowl if I told him not to eat it. "Give it to Mommy. You didn't eat."

He relinquished it. I ate the half eaten cookie dough ball. Then I asked if he wanted to eat his pizza so he could have a cookie. Without even looking up, he continued his cinnamon sugar cookie spooning ask he calmly answered "No. I good."

He is good. Really good.

Tonight's menu: spaghetti and garlic bread. Cookie of the night: gingersnaps. Tonight he ate a cookie and a half before I realized that he'd skipped the spaghetti and only eaten half a garlic bread.

Cookies

This is nothing. When we were growing up, Mom would bake from November-December, and fill an entire freezer. Now that we are older, we split up the duties and exchange, with one day of mass-rollout cookie-baking with all of mom's nine grandkids.


It is one crazy day, where kids come and go between the cookie table, cutting island, outdoor play area, and playroom as they please until batches and batches of cookies are done.

We all wash our hands a million times, laugh, and make a mess of our OCD mom's kitchen. But it's wonderful. Now we get to see the older kids help the little kids decorate, and each year our little artists come up with new ideas. Sure, they pile on the sugar and stress us out a little bit, but they look forward to "Cookie Day", and we love teaching them to make things for the important people in their lives.

Here are 2 slideshares. Why 2? Because I'm too cheap to go Pro and they won't all fit in one on the free account.

Cookies Baking

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Cookies

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Each year, we have a middle finger and a dog pooping. This year, E takes the cake for introducing the yellow snowman.

"I Want Mama!"

When G was born, he spent some time in the NICU. He'd had trouble breathing regular air, and needed an oxygen hood. I spent nine days in the hospital, waiting for him. My husband visited us daily, and B stayed with his godparents during the entire ordeal.

When we returned home, G slept in the snuggle nest in our king sized bed while Josh slept in the guest room so our night time feedings/my snoring wouldn't keep him awake. As G grew, he often would fuss as we were all busy cleaning the house. Josh would set him in his high chair, face him towards me and say, "There's your Mama!" Sure enough, baby would calm down.

G has pulled a few times of screaming at his godmom's house as I walked out. It makes no sense. He loves that woman, and asks about her whenever we aren't there. He fusses about nursery, too. His lip pokes out as soon as we park the car. I'll toss him to the worker, grab a pager, and reassure her that he'll raise Cain for about three minutes, then be fine. He is, too, til he sees me walk through the door, then he'll turn on the waterworks. If I hadn't known better, I might think he'd been crying the entire time.

"Mama, hold you!" in Wal-mart as I'm trying to push a huge cart of groceries. My motto is, "If he'd have been my first one, he'd have torn my nerves straight up."

Don't get me wrong. This kid is overall pretty laid back. He'll laugh and play and be generally jovial. Still, he wants mama when he wants mama. It can be draining sometimes!

Then just the other day, as we were reading a book with photographs of babies, we came across a crying baby. "He's sad," I noted.

"Yeah," G said, "He needs my Mama."

Heart MELT.

Black Friday 2011

Our first combined blog post!

Catina: I remember my first Black Friday. I went with my aunt- and grandma-in-law in Louisville. I thought I would browse and see what deals I could find. Amateur! Deals that year: 0

Cassie: With the lessons you learned from that year, and years following, we have gotten BF down to a well organized machine.

Catina: Yes, it is the closest I come to sports. Our record now is pretty good. I don't think we've had any misses! Course, we also have a great team.

Cassie: And like sports, you have to go in with a good game plan. I start trolling online for ads a couple weeks before BF.

Catina: I'm old school. I like to wait for the circulars, then circle in sharpie.

Cassie: The week before, I start gathering gift cards and coupons and make a tentative list. But the real planning starts after Thanksgiving dinner. We sit at the table with a couple of newspapers, scrap paper, sharpies, and pens.

Catina: We organize lists by store, then make a copy for each player.

Cassie: Each list has the store name, items we are looking for with prices, and the time the store opens. I also write the coupons or gift cards I have at the bottom of my lists.

Catina: Generally we put the list on index cards for easy sorting.
Before leaving, we coffee up, bundle up, tie our tennis shoes tight, and pile into a vehicle or two.

Cassie: We also make sure our cell phones are charged and make a quick contact list for whoever is in the group that year for easy communication.

Catina: The plan at each store is: split up,grab what you can off the list, call/text updates,
and meet back at the checkouts where extras are ditched or given to newfound friends.

Cassie: And if we have an extra person, that person typically stands in line with a cart for us to put our deals (b/c BF lines are insanely long at the major stores like Target, Toys R Us, and Kohls.)

Catina: Exactly. Thuis year, we texted ourselves observations so we could share them with you!

Cassie: "Shoulda had drinks before this. Oops."
"5 people in a little Honda. They should have gone to sleep. They don't even know what they are doing. I screamed at them "you suck at Black Friday!" But in my head- I'm not getting shot."
"The pizza delivery guy just walked by. WTH?"

Catina: We were at Toys R Us at that time.My MIL and I had caught up with Cass and Mom, who waved us into line where they were. People behind us looked a bit miffed, but I didn't want any cool stuff, plus, I really wanted to visit, so we chanced it.

Cassie: Yeah, the one chick looked like the type of person that would cut a line cutter, but we made it without any altercation. Probably b/c Catina kept saying loudly "I just want legos this year. No electronics for me."

Catina: Just to be safe, I avoided her when we got inside.
I liked the bouncer at the Toys R Us, too. We could have used him at Target last year, when I had to loudly proclaim so the dushkanu that cut in front of us would hear that if he took the last of what I was there for, he'd be going down. Cass, remember you talked me down from telling the police officers?

Cassie: Yeah, it would have taken too much time and we would have missed the good deals. Like Season1 of Punky Brewster.

Catina: Also while in the Toys R Us line this year, I searched on my SMART phone for the 1600 piece Legos I'd written down as in Walmart, but couldn't find in Walmart. Stupid mobile app couldn't find it OR Colonial Heights. Luckily, I fussed about it on FB enough that a pal shopping in PA picked me up a set. LOVE her!

After that was Kohl's, which was NUTS with the line. A pal offered us 20 bucks to cut when we reached the front of the line, but I'd already tested fate with the possible cutter, so we did not take him up on the offer. If we HAD, though, Cass would have paid for all of her Walgreens purchases with $8 and change to spare.

Cassie's Walgreen Loot: $11.62 total

Cassie: If you didn't know- drug stores are the sleepers of BF. No lines, no crowds, and great deals.

Catina: Cass also uses Rewards coupons there, and makes out like a bandit. I should have visited them before school, when I got ripped off at major stores. Could have gotten a teacher discount there, too. Let's move back to BF; I'm still bitter!

So Target, my MIL got some movies at good prices. I was disappointed at the "Shirt and Beanie" combos for boys--they were all Christmas themed! Sure, $6 apiece is a great deal, but not if he can only wear it for another month. Besides the fact that I have a $5 rule. I buy sizes bigger and limit myself to $5/shirt. That's a general rule, not just BF

Cassie: This is the first year I didn't buy anything at Target. The only thing I wanted was a $4 game- not worth an hour in line. Lines aren't all bad though- they are great for making friends, trading coupons, and trading info on BF deals.

Catina: The line was surprisingly fast. MIL made it out so quickly, I didn't have time to bring up my $4.45 shirt for B!I was done after Target. So done, that I didn't even let Mom buy me a drink from Starbucks. I was ready for sleepy.

Cassie: I kept it going- Walgreens, CVS, and Walmart. (I usually wait till the crazies are out of Walmart to avoid lines and drama, but that means I miss out on some video games and movies. I feel it is a good trade-off).

Then JCPenney for a free snow globe and some boots. Mom and I finished our night at Michaels and JoAnn's for crafts and decorations. I highly recommend making a stop at Michaels, even if you don't need anything, b/c they give out free chocolate if you get there early.

Catina: Wait, FREE Snowglobe? AND free chocolate? Boo!!!!

Cassie: Yup, and the chick at JCP that handed them out started at one door but moved to another while we were shopping. Since she was our reference point for where we parked, we wasted at least 15 minutes looking for our car. I'm wondering if that was her payback to the crazy shoppers for making her get up so early for work.

Catina: Well, that and all the chocolate she could eat.

Cassie: Nope, that was the snowglobe lady. No wonder she was so smiley. She knew what she was doing.

Catina: Gotcha.

Cassie: After over 24 hours being awake, I called it a night and headed home for sleep. Later that day, I added up my deals. I spent a total of 189.54, and got over $400 worth of toys, decorations, stocking stuffers, and... toothpaste.

Catina: Ooh, ooh! Tell, them the rate of spending/hour!

Cassie: I saved an average of $17.99/hour. Totally worth my time.

Catina: She posted that on FB. That's the gifted in her that makes her do that.

Cassie: Not only did I save a bunch and get a ton of shopping done, but the entertainment of BF is priceless. And I don't mean people cutting each other or getting maced. I've never seen that. I'm talking the comraderie of strangers, the laughing, and the thrill of getting all (or almost all) of the stuff on my list.

Chicken-Pop, Alfalfa, and Spanky

Halloween morning, my husband called me down to the playroom to check on Chicken-Pop, our sweet guinea pig. Chicken-Pop wasn’t moving much, or really at all. We tried giving her some lettuce (one of her favorite snacks), but she refused to take a bite. I picked up Chicken-Pop to snuggle with her, and could hear her breathing catch a little with each breath. For the first time ever, Chicken-Pop bit me, which may have been because of the lettuce my husband put on my shoulder, but I’m pretty sure it was because she wasn’t feeling well. Either way, it made me feel even worse for her, because she just wasn’t herself. It wasn't very long before Chicken-Pop passed away, and we were all very sad. Ok, N doesn’t really understand death yet, so he wasn’t so much sad as he was confused about where exactly his beloved guinea pig had gone.

After her passing, my husband was very clear – “No more guinea pigs. Do not bring home anymore animals.” Well, I’m not great at following directions, especially when I’m on cold medicine, so tonight I brought home our newest family members, Spanky and Alfalfa. My husband is a great sport, and helped me carry our new additions in. He didn’t even fuss at me once (although I’m pretty sure I caught him shaking his head).

Oh, and I am pretty sure the names will be changing. Not that I don’t like the Little Rascals, but I think it is weird for my kids to call anything Spanky. Also, I think guinea pigs eat alfalfa hay, so naming one Alfalfa is the equivalent of naming your kid Hamburger or Pop-tart. Weird, right? Yeah, I think so too.