Dear Santa...

I'd like to dedicate this post to Tessy and Renee. I am A LOT more snarky and cynical in real life, and luckily I have these people to vent to about my distaste for tacky "Mommy blog" crap.

I don't understand the need for the Mommy Bloggers with national audiences to sweetly, innocently post their "Dear Santa" lists. I know what you are doing, ladies.

Then again, if I had a national audience I would sweetly, innocently post my list and sit back with a steaming mug of supreme smugness while my Christmas presents came rolling in. I would save all my money on the after-Christmas specials, because y'all know those deals are just as good, if not better, than Black Friday.

Here we go. Here are my lists. So, for all five of you who read my blog, sharpen your pencils!

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Dear Santa,


It's me, Cash! Normally a kid my age would say, "Gimme trucks and balls!" (LOLs, Santa! I love saying, "Balls!" NEWAY...) For Christmas, I want bandaids and ice packs for the poor souls I abuse. I like throwing things at people and the more I love them, the harder I throw. Apparently this hurts the feelings and faces of people. Also, I'd like a bowl that endlessly feeds me bananas and steel cut oats.


Later bro,
Ca$h-man

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Dear Santa,

It's me, Bradley! I just have to say, sir, I admire your scheduling. How do you do it? Do you have a Blackberry? Day-planner? Personal assistant? I'm trying to figure out the best system for my family, because I need to know what everyone is doing, what they were doing, what they will be doing, etc. It's a thing with me. Also, I need some more combs because my mom keeps trying to do crazy things with my hair; I just want it combed normal, like this:

Respectfully,

Bradley

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Hey Santa,

Jeff here. Hot sauce, bacon, and PBR. Same a last year, man.

Thanks!

Jeff

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Dear Santa,

I've thought really hard about what I want: an Anthropologie jacket, an Instagram family portrait, my cookbook published, Perez Hilton to be a bitch again, or a monthly portrait with my halo highlighted in a different color? It's really tough to choose. 

Ultimately, I think what I really want is a $10 giftcard to Target. It's small and doesn't take up to much space or detract from the joy my family will have opening their presents. With it I can buy Christmas decor and necessities for NEXT Christmas, because I just want to make each Christmas better and better.

Loving all your hard work,

Your favorite martyr Keiko 

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Hmmmm.... Yeah. That's about right.

Initial Stools

I wish I'd take before pictures. It would make things so much more interesting.

Anyway, I took some grandma looking footstools with nasty, pastoral print fabric and turned it into something more appropriate for the boys' room.

I about lost my sanity removing the 478 staples from EACH stool. Seriously, these things were well-made and the Italians who made them had no intention for someone to take them apart.

I taped then painted and stenciled the boys' intials on some burlap. I had Jeff cut out formed backing because the original stool was just the batting and fabric--I anticipate lots of jumping off and on these things. I used all the same colors, patterns, etc. since I didn't want to have to deal with the drama of someone's being "better" or having "more".

Originally, I considered giving these to them as Santa gifts, but I am really eager to get going on these rooms. It might take me a couple more weeks and a good chunk of my Christmas money and gift cards (who's a martyr?), but I'm excited to get it done.

The Nutcracker

If you've talked to B in the last week you know Auntie Erin and I took him to see The Nutcracker. We went to eat at The Outback, went to the theatre, and saw my friends dance. Oh, and he really liked the flips.

One of my students was dancing in a local dance school's production of The Nutcracker and his mom graciously gave me tickets so I could take B. Erin and I let him pick dinner; even though he picked Sonic first, I was able to talk him in to something a bit more...classy.

At dinner and as we drove to the show, we tried to explain to him what to expect. He seemed concerned that he had never actually been to the theatre, so when I told him that as a baby in my tummy he went to many shows and even saw some Broadway, he was tickled.

"What did I think, Mama?" he asked.
"You told me, 'I looovvvee the theatre, Mama,'" I goofed.
Giggles.

I was nervous he would be bored or scared once everything started, but he was enthralled. The boy sat on the edge of his seat for the first 20 minutes, until the full-sized Nutcracker appeared. He was quite literally taken aback, scooting all the way from the front to the back of his seat, with eyes wide as saucers. He adored the acrobats and Russians. And when Connor and Katie were dancing, he'd whisper, "There are your friends, Mama!" Despite the fact we were going hours past his bedtime, he made it through all but the last 5 minutes.

The best part of the night was when B kept whispering to me, "Mama, I love The Nutcracker," and "Mama, I love the theatre."

Heart cockles, on fire!

Dear Jenna

We miss you. Thank you. We love you.

You take great pictures.

And your hair makes for an awesome Santa beard.

Are they extensions?

Love,

JKBC 

No words, part 3

No words, part 2

I did a lot of kissing.

No words

More to come! Thank you Jenna! xoxo

Santa Sigh

We don't get good Santa pics. Ever. Next year I am considering Photoshop.

Bradley is practically eating his own face off. Poor baby is trying to be so brave despite the fact just seconds before he was seriously trembling. It wasn't until we reminded him that Santa gave candy he even took a step forward. Like a champ he mustered, "Hey, Santa."

Cash is clearly pissed. Not because he is panicked that he is sitting on Santa's lap. No, because he is sitting on Santa's lap and not being held by Jeff. Dad is the shit. Santa is not.

The stuffed reindeer is looking good, no? And Santa looks very cheery. (His blush is frightening up close and personal.)

Suddenly, Jenna!

I've told you guys before how much I hate Thanksgiving, right? Let's recap: lots of food that I am not interested in, bad color scheme, and it gets in the way of Christmas.

This year's Thanksgiving was a bit more fabulous since my cousin Jenna came to town. (Remember, her?) We flew her down from Eugene, where she is going to school, with a business arrangement to do our pictures. Seriously, call me a Highly Effective Person because I figured out the best Win-Win situation. Not only did we get to spend time with Jenna and get stellar family pictures, but we did some Black Friday shopping and had a picnic on top of a mountain. You think I am lying about the last part, but hand to God, I'm not.

Anyway. She sent a picture sneak peek and it makes me giddy for the rest.

Before she arrived she suggested I get ideas for family pics, so I proceeded to pin a bunch on Pinterest. Then I promptly forgot that I did that. Good thing she directs us.

Cash (being Cash) is a tough photo subject: he either sluts it up for the camera or could give Kate Moss a run with his bitchy antics. He didn't want to have much to do with posing this day. He was more about trying to sit on a cactus or throw himself off the mountain. Tickling. Dancing. Singing. Nothing worked. Until we flipped him upside down.

It worked for his brother four years ago.

Looking through my Pinterest tonight, I realized we totally ripped this one off. Oh well.

At least we didn't do this one.

Happy Anniversary

Jeff and I have been married for 7 years. It sounds like a long time to me. And it feels like a long time, too. Especially if you ask Jeff. But there are many more years to come, many more house projects, snarky comments, and mornings of me taking out the trash in my heels.

Even with my hints, Jeff went off script. It was sweet of him because I was pretty sure he stopped listening to me at the four year mark.

Have I ever told you how pathetic I look riding a bike? Actually, it's more like when I get going. Oh Lord, is anyone else afraid they are going to get their feet tangled in the pedals, crash, and break their face in the first ten seconds?

For Jeff, I gave him a "favorite things" box of 8 items (seven years plus one for luck). Dickies shorts, peanut butter Twix, a coupon for free coffee at Waffle House, iTunes and Home Depot gift cards, Ziploc bowls (he is always forgetting them at work), a membership in a hot sauce club, and this:

You would think it was our honeymoon all over again. He looked at that Bacon Spam as loving and tenderly as he did me seven years ago. And I could not have been more thrilled for the two of them. The man has yet to cook it, though. He keeps telling me of the grand meal he has planned for it. 

I am in love with a weirdo.

We tried to scare the cancer out of her

I told you about bestie. The only updates I have to give are :-/

1. She was unable to go Black Friday shopping. She was busy getting her lady balls pinned out of the way so they wouldn't be effected by treatments. (The next time you see her, please ask how they are hanging.)

2. Insurance companies are ridiculous, petulant children. This shouldn't be a newsflash.

On a happy note, a couple weeks ago, her brother and I pulled off an epic party. We called it, "Oh balls, Erin has cancer." It was a surprise party where we invited a bunch of friends and family to rally support for Erin and her treatment. Or, as Erin put it, her "Cancer Shower".

There were presents, too--gift cards, blankets, jammies, and such. Lotsandlots of food. And amazing cakes.

Yep. Those are balls on her cake.

Her treatments haven't started. That will require dealing with insurance companies in a firm voice and many faxes. So, the moral of the story is if you know someone at United Healthcare, kick them in the shins. We're fighting fire with fire.

Update!

We waited for Neighbor to leave and then....

They aren't the greatest pictures, but you get the idea.

Christmas with Neighbor

In an effort to make their ridiculous dues worth it, my HOA does sad things like have yard decorating contests for Halloween and Christmas. I think the only thing we "win" is our name in the newsletter and one less night to cry ourselves to sleep.

After seeing the winners of the Halloween yard contest, Neighbor has decided he will conquer the Christmas contest.

Last weekend he spent hours and hours wrapping his tree in lights. Do you know how many? Over 800 lights! A total of 3,300 in his whole yard!! I hate that I remember this because I need that space in my brain for memories of boys' childhoods.

He decided that LIGHTS aren't enough and promptly hung massive ornament balls from his poor tree. That wasn't enough so he put a ginormous inflatable Santa in his driveway.

That is B standing next to it.

The view from our driveway. Notice our now-tiny Snowman and pitifully bare shrub?

This clearly shows that not just a huge truck can clue everyone in to how minuscule your *ahem* is.

Apparently a Santa Hulk wasn't good enough and tonight he approached Jeff about putting lights in our shrubs that border his yard. Just to make his point, he laid a pile of lights by them so he could spring into action the minute we agreed.

I so want to do something like this.

And so it begins...again. For like the 20th time.

The boys are moving in together! You know what that means....DECORATING! Hollerrrrr.

Thanks to Pinterest I have been saving many of the ideas I have come across. And it is paying off!

I fell in love with the idea of a pallet wall.

Inspiration picture

My pallet wall

It looks amazing! At first I wasn't a fan of the green peeking through from this:

But now I think it makes it more interesting.

Here are some more of my inspiration pics. I'm not sure what will become of it, which is a lot more exciting than I thought it would be. Usually I have everything planned to the final detail.