The Christmas Newsletter You Weren't Meant to See

Life has been busy for us during 2014!  Here's the latest and greatest about our brood:

Hudson and Corbin--They spent much of the year prepping for the 2030 Olympic games in wrestling.

Preschool teacher: Your boys just randomly start tackling each other throughout the school day.  During gym time, story time, craft time.  It's never with the other kids, always with each other.  It's the craziest thing.  Have you seen them do that?
Me: Um . . . like once or twice or yeah. 

Their biggest excitement this year, however, occurred at the doctor's office as they awaited their 4 year old shots.  If you had been a fly on the wall, you would have observed them dancing around the cramped room in their socks and superhero undies, singing Christmas carols, and pestering the nurse: "Is it time to get our shots now?  Is it time?  Is it time?"

Why so much excitement?  Because my stash of bandages comes from Ben's overabundance of bland, boring band-aids in his classroom.  (Yes, I am that cheap.)  But Hudson and Corbin's doctor springs for Spiderman and Scooby Doo clad bandages.  Sadly, the thrill of this amazing event was deflated a bit by the sharp needles which penetrated through two very skinny thighs. Corbin noted afterwards: "I think next time, we'll skip the shots and just ask the doctor to let us borrow some fun band-aids."

 

 

Jovie--Our sweet baby girl.  Her last few months of the year can best be described by this heartwarming incident in October: Jovie woke up screaming hysterically from a nap.  I tried everything to calm her down--Barney, snacks, letting her keep her paci--nothing worked.  She screamed, cried, fell down, and shook her legs uncontrollably.  Something was clearly wrong, so I frantically called the doctor.

 

Me: I'm not sure what's going on with my baby.  She's crying uncontrollably and acting like she has no control over her body. 

Nurse: Does she have a fever?  Is she able to make eye contact?

Me: Her temp feels fine, and she's looking right at me.  But, I've never seen her act like this. I've tried everything.  I can't calm her down!

Nurse: Let me talk to the doctor.

(A minute later)

Nurse: Ma'm, I talked to the doctor.  It sounds like your daughter is having what is called a temper tantrum.

Me: Ohhhhh . . . (Red sweeps up my face as I realize I'm made a rookie mistake.  Except this is my third kid.)

Lindsay--When I'm not making frantic calls to the doctor about my daughter's tantrums, I can be found surviving other life defying adventures.  My greatest claim to fame this year--possibly so great that I want it memorialized on my tombstone--is this: I took my three children to Sunday School and church all by myself.  Aren't you completely impressed?  Are you giving me a standing ovation right now?  Well, you should.  Nevermind that we frantically and gracelessly charged into church 15 minutes late (while my Sunday school class of 2 and 3 year olds "patiently" waited for my arrival).  And we'll ignore the fact that as I rushed to greet my squirrely class of toddlers, I threw Jovie into church nursery with bare feet and crust all over her face while spluttering, "Here are Jovie's socks--I know her feet are freezing.  Sorry--can you put them on?  I'm really not a bad mother.  And she has crust all over her face--could you do something about that?  Ben's out of town, sorry, flustered, super late, gotta go!" 
Let's just say that on the way home, I had to gorge myself on a box of Arby's onion rings to recover from the sheer madness of it all.  And I also realized something very important: Single parents who bring their children to church by themselves, deserve a round of applause.  Each and every week. 

 

 

Ben--I have always prided myself on my ability to multi-task well, but Ben has one uped me this year.  He just can't let me win at anything!  Clearly teaching an overload of several new Latin courses and serving wine on select Saturdays during the warmer months while being a hands-on dad, house handy man, and thoughtful husband was not enough.  He had to go start his doctorate in education to fill in the extra globs of time that were oozing everywhere.  The first semester has ended (only 3 1/2 more years to go!), and we'll call it a success: Ben has gotten high marks, his sanity is still in check, the children still recognize him, and Clairol Natural Instincts is making big dough from my need to cover up the ever sprouting grays that accent my head.  A successful year indeed. 

From our home to yours, Merry Christmas!