RIP Wreath...

So, turns out Starlight mints are not meant to be the makings of outdoor wreaths here in the Rockies.  

Let's have a moment of silence shall we?  

For the once totally original (except for everyone else that made one) piece of home made art that hung from our door.  It is dripping red peppermint goo onto the step below, and let's face it - it's gotta go.  

RIP wreath... RIP.

For the woman (that's me) that painstakingly unwrapped and hot glued every single freakin' mint to that round wreath form - you rock.  You maybe should have thought that one through a bit more (I mean, oddly you do use the saying, "I'm not made of sugar" an awful lot - so you'd think that would have crossed your mind), but, alas, 'A' for effort sista.

And to Hobby Lobby - may you have a generic but not cheesy replacement wreath on sale since Christmas is only eleven days away.

Amen.

Do You See What I See...

The verdict is in.

It LOOKS like Christmas... Finally!

And the littlest snow removal crew in the hood could not be happier.

Or more serious about their duty to Mom and her sidewalks.

I do believe the pictures do the talking.  

We were in a marshmallow world nirvana.

For over an hour.

Which is like, an eternity, when it comes to kids and snow play.

So... I think skiing will be next.

Stay tuned.

  

And where was the runt of our group?

Oh yes, him... the little blue-eyed dark headed lad...  

Well, his mama opened the blinds in the playroom and gave him a little goodie bag stocked with Oreo cookies and let him watch and eat and watch and eat from the warm confines of our primary colored loft... surrounded by toys for JUST HIM.

 

And, verdict is in.

He enjoyed it thoroughly.

Talk Boy(s)...

Do you remember that awesome little gadget that MacCaulay Culkin had on Home Alone?  No?  Seriously, let's pour us something tasty and pull that baby up on Apple TV shall we?  Home Alone is a Christmas Classic, I say. 

Anyway, it was a little hand held recorder that could alter his voice and make him sound like Deep Throat or a Smurf and would cause a cacophony of laughter either way.

I totally remember it.  For your Jeopardy Holiday knowledge and for the record it is called a "Talk Boy" and it was like THE BEST gift I ever received from Santa.  I'm quite certain it provided days worth of entertainment for me and my siblings and friends and it became the funniest damn travel toy of all time well beyond the "recommended age" limits... oh the things you can do in the back seat of a car with a toy as cool as that one was.  I think it should maybe be a required feature in all new cars because it kept us all THAT occupied.  Just an idea, American Automobile makers.  Just an idea.

Anywho... I no longer have that little thing.  Though I wish I did because don't people buy stuff like that on E-Bay for big bucks?  If not, don't guffaw or choke on your morning beverage when you read that.  I am an E-Bay virgin.  Thus, I am clueless as to what people really buy on E-Bay.  Sorry.

I do, however, have something(s) that might just trump the old talk boy.  I have the live and in person version... also known as "talk boys" in the plural form.  Which even STILL sort of blows my mind... I have little boys - BOYS - like in bulk!  And they're gosh darn hilarious and they use their cute faces and giant saucer eyes to woo me every single day...

Anyway, the talk boys operate like your standard recorders - they hear what you say and then they spit it right back out at you in soprano voices.  It's a little daunting if I'm gonna be honest...

Here are this weeks recordings - played back in "Christmas Chipmunk Mode"...

"O-M-G, ACEY!"  

Courtesy of Kaelster who walked into the playroom to find every single book thrown from the bookshelf and scattered across the floor.  He followed it up with a, 

"Acey, time-a-go-n sit at waw?"

The consequences he knows - this little disciplinarian.

"Gaw-wee, K-OH!"

And this is when you know Kael has really done a number and Dax Man has caught him in the act. 

And both these guys are so "holier than thou" when they catch one another and they realize they miraculously weren't a part of the original wrong-doing.  Suddenly they are SO shocked that their brother would commit such a heinous play room crime.  Dude, you did the same thing TOGETHER just yesterday, remember? 

P.S.  Let's initiate a poll here:  Is it more embarrassing that I spelled out OMG or that I said Golly?

This is gonna be a close one.

What I'm really learning is to watch my tongue.  These little walking electronics are total sponges and they soak in every single word we say and remember every single detail no matter how insignificant I think it may be.  No pressure, right?

So, Mama's workin' on keepin' it clean.  Did I cuss in this post?  Fetch.  Well, from this point on - I'll do better.  Not perfect.  Better.  Scout's Honor.

Cause you know, Talk Boys don't lie and Santa Claus IS coming to town.

Jolly old Elf.

:)

The Middle - est...

This post is all about our middle babe, Dax-a-Million.  

As a fellow middle child, I feel the pressure to make sure that Little D doesn't feel like he lives his life in the shadow of his bigger brother or that he is skipped over because of "the baby".  

Oui - the angst of a middle child, eh?

Anywho - sometimes people are just really, really cool, you know?  

Dax Man is one of those people.  

He is equal parts chill and passionately stubborn.  He is sort of a genius and he decides to show off in the most random ways and the silliest of all places; but then he can flash a dimpled grin and look up at you from beneath those incredible "Maybe its Maybeline" lashes and bury his head in your shoulder out of elected and dramatic shyness.  

He kind of has these lofty expectations of himself and awesomeness seems to just fly out of his fingertips in the most unexpected of ways.  Like being super sneaky, super fast and super loquacious.  Seriously, talk about talking... Dax Man talks and talks and TALKS until he kills you over dead and even then he would get down and whisper in your ear.  AND, you can understand like 98% of it because little Perfectionist doesn't like to just dapple in things - oh no, he must only excel.

We've been doing a lot of "rule reciting" at our house - like before we enter a venue we sit in the car and discuss the rules and expectations.  Well, the other day we were all dropping Kael off for preschool and Daxi asked, "K-OH, What are the ru-ohs at schoow?"  And sure enough his older brother rattled them off like a champ.  To which Daximus replied, "OK, Be a good boy and have a good day!"
Thanks, Sarge.

So, I just thought I'd throw it out there.  I'm a huge fan of Dax.  Because, well, just look at him.  

How could "U" not be a fan, right?

(You're welcome, Grandpa Hooky, for wearing UofU gear)

PS - I think this blog needs a rating system real soon like.  Sorry for all the nudie-toochiness.  We might just clean up our act around here - but don't hold your breath.

Hot Couture...

If ever there was a timely event for avoiding the pitfalls of holiday smorgasbords, it is the annual Victoria's Secret Fashion show, no?  I mean, really, there is nothing that helps me walk away from another See's chocolate or a slice of pecan roll more so than seeing Candice (my stunt double) walk down the runway in some hot couture little sweet nothins.  I might even throw in a couple additional lunges today - just sayin'.

So, as the hubs and I took it all in (and may I say how proud we are that the only time we have seen Bieber perform was while soaking in the LEGS on the VS show) we compared notes and it is unanimous...

Lily, Erin & Candice, along with legs for a mile, Chanel are the favs of the year.  I feel bad that I passed on this year's show.  I was just trying to take a break from my career and wanted to focus on the littles this holiday season, but it was pretty evident that VS was in dire need of a leading lady.  You know, a Heidi Klum/Marissa Miller/Amber Gardner type to really bring in the viewers.  

The hole in the cast was pretty obvious. :)

If you ever wonder why I gush about my kids being the best it is because they are... no lie, my little helpers just saw this picture and said, "Wook, it's Mama."  
XOXOX Freakin' O cutest (and most far sighted) boys in the universe.

On the bright side, I am sporting a non-million dollar bra in a wild zebra print with Vickie Secret hot pink lining just to honor what probably should have been another big night on the catwalk for me and what will inevitably lead to fifty shades of good stuff here at home.  Oops - TMI.  Anywho... don't fret... My agent is already in talks with the producers of next year's show, so I'll more than likely be seein' y'all in lucky 2013!

Oh, the sarcasm.  Are you sometimes amazed at how completely lame this blog is?  Me too.

Tradition Take One...

I'm kind of riding a big old Christmas wave right now, so just go with the total holiday overload, eh and do pardon the Santa/Reindeer/Snowman PJs that you see in bulk.

Oooo-KKkkk - Let's begin now...



Big K made a paper Christmas tree at Preschool and "Miss Cimi" gave him a baggie full of enough stickers to place one sticker on the tree every day until Christmas.  It was such a cute idea and he was pretty excited about the whole process.

Well.... the next morning after we got all dressed and ready, I asked Kael,
"Should we put something on your Christmas tree?"

And Dax Man jumped up and yelled,
"YES!  Wet's put somethin' on my Christmas tree, Mom!"
And his little legs high tailed it into his bedroom where his jaw dropped open and he stood open-mouthed/grinning at his very own tree atop his dresser.

Whoopsie Daisey....
(Yep, I say that because I'm an old soul or something like that.)

Kaelster saw that Dax was totally trumping his little paper tree on the fridge and he too ran to his room to stare at his very own Christmas tree and wonder what magical thing this ditzy mama was about to produce to trim his very cute lit but bare little tree.

And so, let's fast forward to a trip to the dollar store shall we?

We now have a brand new tradition where every day leading up to Christmas we get to put one ornament on our very own trees in our very own rooms in the very fashion our little hearts desire.  And if I do say... it's VERY adorable.

Thus far, the collection includes a miniature horse, a Snowman from Daddy-o, an oversized plush reindeer, a couple of darling collector Santas from Grandma Jan, who must have had a crystal ball to see that one day we would be in need of personalized ornaments for personal sized trees... and one mangy looking football bear + one silly little basketball bear + a white haired toy soldier from the depths of the storage room on that initial fateful day.
(The one where I was sweating and frantically digging through Christmas Rubbermaid bins).

And you know what?  I kind of love it.
All of it.
(Especially how they look in their beds under the glow of the lights)

I think sometimes those completely impromptu, unplanned little moments become some of the most memorable.  Which is why Martha Stewart and her perfectly quaffed everything is just not up my alley.  I do like me some gorgeous doilies on a beautiful Christmas package, but really, it can't all be perfection, Miss Martha... take it from me... your antithesis here in the Rockies.

So thanks to my little men, for creating our little holiday game.  I love the way you make up the rules to our holidays as we go.  I love the way we're decorating your trees one day at a time.  I love the TOTAL and COMPLETE joy this little exercise brings to you, and in turn, brings to me and your Papa Bear who is about to arm wrestle me to see who gets to hand over the surprise ornaments tomorrow morning.  I should have suggested a "toilet scrub competition" or something else that would so obviously have me coming out the victor!  

Until then, little elves of ours, Nighty Night.

Naps are Awesome...

I don't know why it is that my littles fight naps like Ninjas on steroids.  For the life of me, I don't get it?  Naps, to me, are like, "Free shoes & chocolate all wrapped up into one."  

What gives?

So, a few days ago I was the Enforcer... the Nap Enforcer.  Also known as the Awake Terminator, the freakin' Sleep Fairy from the Land of La La or the Zzzz's Gal.  

Acey Boo snuggled in fast and sweetly... he is, after all, still a baby... or so I tell myself. 

Dax Man fought a good fight for a brief  moment and then succumbed because he is two and it is still inevitable much to his chagrin (Thanks be to Jesus).  

And Kaelster... whew, this one takes some raw talent on my part.  We peed.  We drank some warm milk.  We snuggled in to watch the "aminows" on my phone (that's animals in the event that your toddler speak isn't up to par) and then we peed again.  And FINALLY.  Holy blissful slumber that little big man fell into a deep and lovely sleep.

And me?  I slid out of the bed all smooth like liquid mercury and sat on the couch and ate a fancy lunch of a two-hour-old sweet potato by myself - cause I'm totally hip like that.  I didn't even multitask and look at Pinterest... I just SAT.

For the record, the overlap nap time reached a grand total of 18 minutes.  

But oh, those 18 minutes... Right?

And wouldn't you just nap and nap and nap if this is what you did in your "wind down time"?

Me too.

Also let the record show that I, Amber G, do hereby promise that there is nothing more adorable than long lashes resting against completely relaxed, flushed with sleep, rose petal soft cheeks.  Take it to the bank.  NOTHING.  

Those warm and snugly little lumps of baby meat all tucked into soft blankies and breathing evenly?  Perfection.  And that is one of those times when you know that the Big Man upstairs totally knows what he is doing.  Warm dreamy cherubs.  Well done, Big Man.  Well done.

And so, on a week day afternoon, there was bliss.

And maybe, just maybe, I have high hopes for a couple of nap sessions this coming week...

For the three amigos...

And Possibly their mama.

Amen.