Sometimes, I don't think my kids are normal.

So we did the "thankful turkey" thing.  And this was the first year Mitchell seemed to grasp the concept of being grateful.  "What are you thankful for, Mitchell?", I asked.  And his answered ranged from, "Heavenly Father and Jesus" to "my wife" to "underwear pants"  And I think Ali just thought we were listing random things, so she's thankful for "Ali and babies!", "Red!", "'W!'", "Chicken!", "Grammy!"and "Twinkle Little Star!" All good things.  The world *would* be a lot different without "W".  And chicken, too.

The turkey hangs nicely on our fridge.  A good reminder, I think, we can never be too thankful of anything, really.  Including underwear pants.

And then it started snowing.  To Ali, that meant "Snowman! Snowman! TALL! TALL! TALL!" I had no idea she knew the song, and then Mitchell said "Build a Snowman! Build a Snowman!" and then, before I had a chance to say anything (re: "it's a blizzard, out there.  Ali would literally blow away") they were both running/screaming/dancing in circles, chanting "YAY! YAY! YAY!" which is something they both have learned how to do fairly quickly in their little life, probably because it seems to make my protesting invalid.  So we bundled up a lot and put some weights in Ali's shoes, and trekked out into our backyard with high hopes of snowman-building, but what actually followed, was an snowball ambush of me, mom, and then lots of laughter and wide-legged toddling because they both had about 25 pairs of pants on, and 3 pairs of socks+boots each and they couldn't run fast, at all.

However, I, being fearless, only wore one layer+coat so I instantly won the snowball fight (2 against 1, even) but since they have an endless amount of energy that exponentially increases every second of being outside, the snowball fight lasted half of an afternoon.  After I was finally exhausted, they insisted we build a snowman and complete the task that would have been finished hours ago, had Mitchell not started the snowball fight of the year.

And after rolling and lifting and scraping dead leaves off Mr. Snowman's body, I looked ahead to see both kids chilling on the back patio, watching the whole process.  "Why are you not over here helping me?" Ali laughed at me and Mitchell said, "Oh, mom.  You doing a good job! He's so handsome!" And then I said, "This snowman is a girl, Mitchell" Which Mitchell responded, "No you're a girl! Snowmen can't be girls!" Which, after I thought about it, had to be true, otherwise we'd have "snowwomen" and I don't think I've heard anyone say "snowwomen" So I'd start a snow-feminist-movement, but I don't have any more spare time.

And finally, I, finished the snowman, and went inside to find some face-things. Which was a (baby) carrot nose and some grapes.  And finally, we declared it complete.  I bribed the kids to come inside (we were on hour 6, and that's not an exaggeration) with some warm hot chocolate (which we have to call "warm hot chocolate" otherwise it's automatically too hot to drink -ever-) and they both seemed delighted to come inside.  Then I said, "Wait! We need a picture!" Mitchell always thinks this is a good idea.

But Ali....

pretty much thought all the talk of warm chocolate milk were lies.  No smiles. No standing by Mitchell.  Just screams "CHOCOLATE MIIIIILLLLK! CHOCOLATE MILLLLKKK!"  It's coming! Take a picture! JUST SMILE!

The child is such a pre-madonna.  Especially, when it comes to food.

Actually, she refers to herself as "Ali Pin-cess"  (well, also, she refers to herself as "she" a lot lately, which is really funny.  "She likes it! She likes it!")  Every morning, she puts on a little tutu and parades around the house dancing/spinning/declaring herself a princess.  This also means, we watch a bunch of princess movies, and the child loves Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty.  We went to the opening of the Outlet Mall by Thanksgiving Point (Actually, we were going to visit the dead animals at Cabelas, but then I we got a little sidetracked by the new shiny mall.  Hello, Coach store.  This is what I want for Christmas, Mike.  No, not the bag, the store.  The whole store.

Anyway, Oshgosh had all the disney princesses (teenagers in pretty dresses) walking around so parents would practically be forced to shop there, but I voluntarily took Ali in to say hi to 12-year old Cinderella. Ali was too excited to say anything so she waived.  And then let Jasmine hold her.  Aw.  And then waved "bye" to all of them when we left.  Fun.  I would love to take the kids to Disney.  Tomorrow, if I could.

Her maternal instincts have kicked in, so she cuddles her babies and puts them down for naps.  I tried to put her to bed, one night, after a long day of Ali being generally a terror, and she looked right at me and  said, in a stern voice, "No!" and looked away from me.  That was the first time she had ever said no to me, so I chuckled and said, "Do you want to try that again?" "NO!" So I went over and picked her up and said, "Bedtime!" She flailed her arms and swung her little body hard enough that I almost dropped her and she said, under her breath, quickly, and suspiciously just like her brother does, "stop it! stop it! stop it!" okay, really? Are we really going to do this?

So this became the general nap-time routine for awhile.  I tell her it's naptime, she yells and me and pretends like she's a teenager, ready to attack.  After putting her in bed for a nap, the other day, she starting crying big crocodile-drama tears and Mitchell came running up the stairs "Ali's awake?"

"No, Ali is mad because she doesn't want to go to sleep."

"Oh, I go cuddle her"

"No.  Don't go in her room.  She's really tired, Mitchell"

"Okay, I go make sure she has her baby and water"

"No.  She has her baby and water, I promise she's fine"

{brief pause of about 2.8 seconds}

"Mom, Ali's awake.  She wake herself up! I go get her!"  And like lightening, ran in her room.  "Ohhh Ali!  Don't cry!"

So I go in her bedroom, and try to lay her back down for bed.  Of course, she's mad at me, so she's screaming for Mitchell to help her.  "Mitchell! CUDDLE MITCHELL!" and me, "Lay down, Ali, you have to take a nap" and Mitchell, "ooohhh baby.  It's okay! I cuddle you! you want to watch the princess movie with me? I hold you and we watch the princess movie!" Ali: "Movie Mitchell!" I'm still trying to get her to lay down at this point so she wiggles out of my arms screaming "Stop it! Stop it! Let go! Mitchell! CUDDLE MITCHELL MOVIE!"

are you serious? This is really happening?

So I say, wimp-ly and a little sob-ish, "you have to take a nap."

and Ali says, "BABY! It's QUIET TIME! GO! TO! BED!" and just like that, puts her baby doll down for a nap, pulls the covers up on the bed.  "Shhhhhh," she says, "it's nap time.  Go to sleep." She leans down, kisses the babies forehead, "Goodnight.  I love you."

And then turns and holds Mitchell's hand and they start walking out of the room, and she turns to me and says, "baby's going night night.  shhh."  and I'm left standing there trying to figure out how she conned me into making her doll take a nap, and not her.  I'm such a push-over.

Oh, yeah, go ahead and watch that movie with Mitchell. You definitely don't need a nap.

 Meanwhile, Mitchell, wanted to relive the snowball fight with dad.  Mike's a pretty good sport, and just stands there while Mitch chucks snowballs at his face.  They both  came inside soaking wet.

And I gave into Christmas.  Mitchell and Ali got sucked into the retail Christmas decorations that were everywhere, and it was too cute to not give into them. And then I found a pretty shelf to hang my stockings that I love, I couldn't resist.  I finished them just in time last year, so I'm really glad I get to enjoy looking at them this year.

And Mitchell started the whole "I need to take a lot of pictures of me." phase, again, that he probably picked up from his Aunt Madeline.  

They're probably related.