A lot of thoughts start going through my brain.  One, where the heck is this coming from.  We’re just sitting here watching a show about absolutely nothing.  We hadn’t just been having a deep discussion.  Granted it is Christmas and the Little People Nativity that Kara shared with us is nearby, but she wasn’t even looking at it.  And my second thought is, this is what you decide to say isn’t real?  Ella you believe in Santa Claus (but I guess you see him at the mall, even though Mommy tells you that isn’t the real Santa.)  You tell me there are ghosts in the attic.  And you think the Pajama Guards (she’s always talking about the guards coming to get us) just might be real and are more than a little bit afraid of them.  Frank invented the Pajama Guards as a way to motivate Ella to get her jammies on, we were trying to be playful about it, but wound up scaring her.  But you see my point, right?  She questions the existence of Jesus, but not Santa, ghosts, or Pajama Guards.  Oy.

I tried to talk to her about how just because you can’t see some things, it doesn’t mean they aren’t real.  Like that I love you, Ella.  You can’t see my love, but you know it is there, right?  I got a resounding, “What?” to that comment.

She really is trying to figure this whole God and Jesus thing out.  One night after church she asked me why can’t we see Jesus?  Like in those books.  The people could see him in those books.  Why doesn’t he live in our neighborhood?   My response, while trying desperately hard not to laugh at the image of Jesus living in a two story down the street from us, “Jesus lives in Heaven with God.”

“Because he’s died?”

“Well he did die, but then he came alive again and went to live in Heaven with God.”

“What?”

“Jesus lives in Heaven with God, until he comes back to Earth again.”

“Shhh. Stop talking, I hear the guards coming.”

I hear how other people’s children so eagerly swallow all the morsels of truth about Jesus.  Why in the world would it work that way for me?  No I’m having to defend why he doesn’t pay subdivision dues.  Good grief.  But I still trust that eventually she will get it.  Someday.

Then a year or two later we watched an Elmo called Elmo’s Happy Holidays.  It was about all the different holidays people celebrate around Christmas.  Still very cultural oriented.  Ella fell in love with the Hanukkah segment.  She loved the songs, the menorah, and most of all the jelly donuts.  She would constantly play with her “kenorah” (a ring stacking piece of wood) and ask Evan to play with her.  She even asked me when we could celebrate Hanukkah.  ”Because then, Mommy we could eat jelly donuts and play that dreidel game.”  And all of her friends and family could be there, too.

Over Hanukkah this year they played a whole hour of Shalom Sesame on PBS, and Ella watched it riveted.  Then begged for her Daddy to “download” her most favoritest one.  Any interest in Veggie Tales?  Nope, nada.  Should I have screened Shalom Sesame.  I still don’t think so.  Ella sees it as a party with candles, donuts, and a fun song.  And besides, Jesus was Jewish.

I did explain that we don’t celebrate Hanukkah, because we aren’t Jewish.  To which, she looked up at me and asked why not?  Um, well.  We celebrate Jesus’s birthday instead. “Well, then let’s celebrate Kwanzaa!”  I’m speechless.

And Ella, Ella just makes my heart smile (when she isn’t making me want to rip my heart out.)  But she just warms my insides until they are a pile of mushy goo.  I am so thankful for such a precious daughter.

And when I look at Evan I see a little man.  He is so grown up.  Just seeing him getting so big for some reason makes me so proud.  He is writing books at school and was so proud to show them to me yesterday.  He can read a bit more, and he is just so smart.  He’ll always have that hint of defiance about him, I think.  But hopefully he is learning to use it for good.

When all three of my kids were flipping out tonight at the same time (the five o clock meltdown) rather than joining them, I told them, “The Bible says children are a gift from God.  I’m so blessed to have three such wonderful gifts.”  And it worked, it made them be quiet while they thought about that, and he made me thankful rather than cuckoo.  :)

My girl in her first bikini.  She was so excited.  She asks me to shop online for clothes for her and loves to look at shoes.  She begs to have her nails done.  (She calls a pedicure a pedi-background.  No idea why.)  She’s such a girl.   And I love it.

Ignore the mess.  Someday we will teach him to eat neatly.  And I will pick up a bit more.  You can see my head in the background and Maya on the couch.  Oh, and he’s eating chili with LOTS of crackers.

A sweet, sweet, sweet, baby boy.  Who wonders exactly WHY am I always in my carseat?  At least it seems that way…

(So what’s this about? Andrew had what I think actually was a cold and slow weight gain. The doctor sent us to get tested for cystic fibrosis due to slow growth and wheezing. He also tested for malabsorption issues and thought a milk allergy might be a potential cause, too. The CF still seems a bit extreme to me, but was a bit of horror to worry about. All his labs came back normal. Yay! And I think he’s on the up and up now. Sweet baby boy. Frank doesn’t like to share things and likes to wait and see, which is why you may not have known.)

All Purpose Cleaner (for just about everything:)
1 c. white vinegar
1 c. water

All Purpose Scrubber:
Baking Soda (Try putting it in an old Parmesan Cheese container to sprinkle)

Window Cleaner
One part vinegar
Four parts water

Dishwasher soap:
1 part baking soda
1 part borax
(You can add a bit of citric acid if cloudiness is a problem. I like to add a few drops of scented essential oil.)

Rinse Aid:
Fill dishwasher compartment with vinegar instead of Jet Dry.

Laundry Soap:
1 cup Dr. Bronner’s Liquid Castile Soap
1 cup baking soda
1/3 cup salt
2 cups warm water.

Dissolve soda and salt in water. Add soap. Put in gallon container and add enough water to make one gallon. Shake before using. Use 1/4 cup per load.

Fabric Softener:
Add small amount of white vinegar to your fabric softener dispenser. I like to add a couple drops of essential oil. Borax is a great laundry booster, too. Add 1/4 cup to a really dirty load.

Dusting Aid (Pledge):
1 cup olive oil
1/2 cup lemon juice

Pour into spray bottle. Shake well before use.

I plan to continue buying Dawn for my sink dishes, Shout for my stains, and Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser for those Dry Erase Marker on the stair railing moments.

My favorite essential oils are lavender, peppermint, and eucalyptus. (I boil water on the stove and add eucalyptus when we have colds. It clears out the sinuses and is supposed to help disinfect the air, while the boiling water adds moisture.)

There was a story in the news not that long ago in St. Louis. A young, single mom killed her one year old son. It only took them about 24 hours to unravel the whole thing and she was taken into custody and put on suicide watch. And the reaction from the public (and on facebook) was outrage. How could a mother do this to her OWN child? What a horrible person she is! But I felt something other than outrage. I felt sad. I realize it is possible since I didn’t know her that maybe she is just a violent, sick, horrible mother. But since she had no history of abusing her child and her friends were all completely shocked, I think something else happened. I know personally how depression can mangle your thoughts and take you somewhere you never thought you’d go. (Not quite to her extreme, but still not fun.) And I couldn’t help it. Oh, I wanted to. But I couldn’t. So I read this post tonight: and I agreed with her. Maybe the real story is society is also to blame for not offering more support. In so many ways. Things aren’t always black and white. It would be so much easier if they were.

You know what I realize as I get older, though? It isn’t like when I was younger and the year ended and I hadn’t lost the ten pounds, hadn’t gotten uber organized, hadn’t stuck to the budget, and felt disgusted with myself. I feel content now. Because even though I am not perfect, I am a little wiser. The last year has brought experiences that have taught me more lessons. I’ve grown a little stronger. I know myself a little better. And that makes it a very worthwhile year.

I think the greatest lesson of the year for me has been strengths versus weaknesses. We all know we have them and that other people DEFINITELY have them, but what does that really mean? Well, I explained it to Evan like this: Evan was upset because he has to “move his stick” at school sometimes. A discipline measure for not holding still, being quiet, etc. And that some of the other kids NEVER have to move their stick. He felt they were better than him. Do you see the danger screaming at you here? So here’s what I told him.

Evan you have strengths and you have weaknesses, and everyone’s are different. It is very hard for you to sit still and be quiet. However, you are caring, very smart, athletic, funny, thoughtful, creative, and so on… Those people aren’t better than you, they just have different strengths. This isn’t to say we shouldn’t work on our weaknesses and try to improve ourselves. (Happy New Year!!!) You still have to find a way to sit still and be quiet in class, but it will take more effort for you than some other people.

And then I thought about this. Had I learned this lesson in my own life? Some things are easier for me and some harder for me. Doesn’t mean that other people are better than me, they are just better at some things. The example that really drove the point home for me personally? Probably TMI, but breastfeeding. Other women tell me they don’t know how I do it. But come to think of it, it really isn’t THAT HARD for me. I don’t feel tortured by it. Hmmmm.

Maybe the fact that I can’t stay on a schedule doesn’t mean I’m hopeless and disorganized, maybe it is just harder for me. Something I have to work on. I want to be more scheduled so that I’m less stressed. (Have I ever mentioned that my children will say they are hungry and I’ll realize I kind of missed lunch?) Who does that? (I guess I do.)

So here’s to me working on my weaknesses in 2012 and accepting myself for who I really am.

But really, I count my blessings. My children were all significantly healthier today, our house is overflowing with toys and love, and we all had lots of cuddle time. So maybe for Evan it was the worst Christmas ever. But for Mom and Dad a precious memory of Christmas 2011: The year everybody hurled.

Oh, and as a side note: Guess how many pics of Andrew we took for his first Christmas? Zero. That’s right. We’re awesome. Gonna have to dress him in a Christmas outfit and hold him in front of the tree. We love you little one!

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