And the New Year starts with a sarcastically thrown fistful of sparkles over this household.

When it rains, it pours, essentially means:
*When you have one car problem, the other car will join in the fun.  And then you fix it, and it breaks again, and again, then the other car dies, and forces you to buy a new car, the new car keeps dying, and keeps dying, and basically, we've rotated through 4 different cars and my car heater/radiator is still broken (and if you haven't noticed, it's been so so so so so cold)
*When your fridge light goes out, it's just joking, and it's the *actual* fridge that is secretly rotting your food away.  But then it really goes out, again, and then another time just for kicks, so you've replaced all your food 3 times.
*When the first (and only) time Ali decides to refuse nursery, you're walking the halls (she wouldn't stop singing twinkle little star and saying "is that baby Jesus?" when all the new babies came in during sunday school), the primary randomly gives you a new calling.  It was more like "you know how primary works, right? We can move you wherever we feel like it.  Here's your new class.  Sorry no one asked you"  awesome, yes.
*When one child gets sick, it will slowly and painfully go through the entire family 5 hundred billion times.  And then again and again.
*When you accidentally lock the house door, you won't have a way to get back in (no really, that actually happened)
*When you wash a load of whites, there will be a red bleeding sock in the dryer.
*When you finally remember to buy more toilet paper, the children will learn how to dissolve an entire roll of it in the sink (!!).
*When you decide the Les Mis soundtrack would compliment the melodramatic mood you're always in, you realize "do you hear the people sing" is not included.
*When you can't find your gum, Ali chewed it up and spit it back out on the carpet.
*When you need just a tiny bit more flour for the pizza dough that's almost done, your husband will come back with no flour and frozen pizza.  He's hilarious and thoughtful at the same time.

But before the storm of all storms hit our family, we did have a wonderful holiday.  We're so grateful for family and friends who look out for our little family and help us solve our ridiculous and often unbelievable situations.  I think sometimes people get off the phone with me thinking, "is she really that dumb?" That was the motto for December.  "Is Meagan really that dumb?" And the overwhelming answer is yes!

My in-laws (some, anyway) came to Utah and Shelby stayed with us, which was a blast.  It was so fun having someone to talk to at 4 in the morning, when Mike is asleep and I'm avoiding being productive/healthy. She's completely awesome and my kids absolutely adore her and are already talking about the "next time".  Which, if we're lucky, will be soon since she wants to go to BYU.

My father-in-law and step mother-in-law were also in town (in the relative sense of 'town') and it was fun shopping and hanging out with them.  It's always nice to be with family we don't see often.

And Santa came.  We could hardly contain the excitement.  Christmas Eve, I woke up to Mitchell and Ali in their new pajamas, "Children! Where did you get these!?"

Mitchell: "You said we could open them tomorrow!"

Um, hello! Not without me!  I was a little relieved we could talk about not opening anything without mom and dad before Christmas morning.  He, thankfully, got the message.

But didn't have a chance to prove his patience, since Dad decided 5am was "late enough" and downloaded an air horn app on his phone.  "Miiiikkkeee just let them sleep"

"It's Christmas!"

"An air horn? Are we really having this conversation?"

And without anymore thought, 5am Mike and I were standing over his tent (yeah, a bed is so overrated) with a phone making somewhat loud and definitely obnoxious noises.  Mitchell rubbed his eyes and Mike and I said, "Santa came! He did!" like children (probably) do when they (theoretically) wake up their parents (and you know, come to think of it, we haven't had that happen yet.  Mike and I are still trying to grow up)  And then the three of us woke Ali up, who was *basically* already awake.  I'm not sure she ever sleeps.

And then we walked down the stairs to find new dinosaurs for the children (yes, both.  Ali loves dinosaurs) and stockings literally overflowing because "Santa" hasn't quite figured out how to reign it in.

Mitchell also received new underwear in his stocking.   He tried them on immediately.

Mitchell noticed the mostly eaten cookies and the empty class of milk replaced by bowls upon bowls of candy and a note "Mitchell and Ali. I brought something SO BIG! it didn't fit under the tree.  I had to leave it in your playroom.  Which, by the way, thank you for cleaning.  It looks so nice!  Love, Santa"  Mitchell just about flipped out right there.  He cleaned his playroom Christmas Eve, without asking, and without even really telling us.  He was so excited Santa noticed (and how could he not?)  And so, Mitchell grabbed Ali's hand "C'mon Ali!" and they went down the stairs to find the cutest kitchen ever.  Ali just smiled and beamed. Too tired amazed to even touch it.  And Mitchell jumped up and down and opened the fridge to find their already owned food and dishes nicely put away.  He coaxed Ali into playing with it, and Mike and I went upstairs.  They were down there for a good hour playing with it (best. gift. ever.)

Mike & I + Shelby went upstairs and did the whole stocking thing, which is always fun.  We started a game or two when Mitchell and Ali came back upstairs to find fun little things in their stockings.  Ali was thrilled to have 2 new baby hedgehogs for her dollhouse family.  She immediately went upstairs to put them "to bed".  Mitchell, at the bottom of his stocking, found "Jake, Izzy, and Cubby" which are kid pirates from his favorite TV show and immediately realized Santa must have brought the big matching boat he saw at the toy store months ago and has been (practically) talking about nonstop.

The child walked under the tree and found the dang package.  "This says 'Mitchell' right mom?"

"Yes.  Yes it does"

"CAN I OPEN IT!??!?!?!?! PLLLLEEEEEAAASSSEEE"

what is this, Christmas? "Yes! Open it!"

And luckily for him, it was a big boat named "Bucky".  Complete with sounds and popping crocodiles and a working "water" cannon.  sweet.  He was so so so excited.  We could not get it out of the packaging fast enough.

And then Ali opened some new play cookies for her kitchen.  Cutest thing ever.

So then, they were content to play for another hour.  And so, around 7am, my parental inlaws arrived at my home and enjoyed most of Christmas morning with us.  Which was lovely.  Mitchell and Ali loved having Grandpa Taylor there to show him all their new toys.  Ali could sit on Grandpa's lap forever and be content.

And I decided the week before Christmas, close enough to last minute (but just barely before everything began falling apart and being expensive), to get Ali a baby doll for Christmas.  I had been battling the idea since the beginning of Christmas season and just took the plunge when the cutest doll ever was on sale online.  And I'm so glad we did.  She opened her and said "Santa bring Ali baby? Santa bring baby! Baby, baby!" She wouldn't let go of the baby who was attached to the box with ties made of basically steel.  We managed to get the baby out of the box, and that baby does not ever leave her site.  Even now.  She makes dinner for baby, gives the baby milk, sleeps with the baby, and even found a binky for the baby.  Today, the baby was "stinky" and she pretended to change the diaper.  She already has one doll she loves, and completely rejects the doll I made her (which, sadly, is understandable.  that doll is creeeeepy)  as well as another doll given to her by someone else.  So I was worried.

And plus, Mike said one time, "No more stuffed animals or babies!" And I took him seriously (okay.  I took his statement into consideration while battling the doll issue out by myself)  Then had a nearly mental breakdown in my head and bought her a baby doll and then told Mike. Who said, "oohhh.  Which one did you get her? Did you get her a 14 inch? Because that's the size she likes.  And it doesn't make noises right?  Does it smell good?"

"I thought you banned dolls from this house.  I was so prepared for you to be mad at me."

"well....yeah.... but that was before we knew how much she loves them."

Okay, then.  That was.... weird.  You know how big her doll is? She doesn't even know that.

So when the doll came in the mail, I showed Mike who commented on the dolls cute lips and cheeks and how much Ali was going to just adore this (previously banned) doll.

Duuuuuude.  She has got you wrapped around her little finger.

Mike's a good Dad to the babies, too.  (Named "Jessica" and "Lucy".  And for whatever reason, she named her dinosaur "pooh" (I'm hopeful it's pooh and not poo but no one can be 100% sure of these things) Ali gives daddy the babies to cuddle and feed and it's adorable.

Mitchell actually has figured Mike out, too.  He climbed up on the couch and said, "I want to watch football with you, Dad" So they cuddled and watched a half a game and Mitchell said, "When I grow up, I will beat those Buckeyes!"

Mike: "No one beats the Buckeyes! When you grow up, you will be a Buckeye"

"Yeah! When I grow up, I will catch the ball and run soooo fast!"

The whole conversation was hilarious.

One time, Mike was commenting on how much something was.  Said something like "It's 5 bucks" and Ali said "GOOOOOO BUCKS!"

He's brainwashing them.

Annnnyyyway, back to Christmas.

Christmas night I cooked a ham, and some homemade rolls and we had a nice dinner together.

Shelby and I ditched Mike and the kids and saw Les Mis, which was amazing.  I only cried 3 times.

We went shopping together, and played games together, and Mike fell asleep (as always) at ridiculous times, so it was nice having someone to talk to!  And Shelby introduced me to "cookie butter" at Trader Joe's which is the most addicting thing ever.  I love it a little too much.

New Year's Eve we stayed home and watched the ball drop. And Mike was out at 9:30.  He's ridiculous!

Anyway, I find I enjoy hosting a lot.  More than visiting, but probably only because I like my bed.  I love being surrounded by nice people that are normal.  I love that it forces me to clean my house from top to bottom.  So.  Next year, party o'va here!

Overall, 2012 was a crazy fun year.  It's day 5 of the new year, and I haven't failed my new year's resolutions.  Mitchell and Ali are growing up so nicely and hilarious-ly it's hard not to video tape every second of every day.  Ali knows pretty much all the songs on the radio and sings them.  Even some obscure ones.

And she's talking all the time, and everything she says is so. dang. funny. I tried to put her down for a nap, and she stated, very clearly and in an authoritative voice, "I want tacos."

She is hilarious with Mitchell.  Mitchell is such a good big brother.  He loves her so much.  He has become so helpful.  While messes are inevitable, the child loves cleaning (no, really.  And no, that is definitely not a trait I passed down).  He can sweep the floor and sweep up the little pile.  He loads the dishwasher and can start the dishwasher.  He loves cleaning the windows with windex.  He vacuums.  And then he does things like fill the sink with water and drop an entire roll of toilet paper in there watching it get all nasty and creamy-like.  Lovely.  His sink doesn't drain very fast anymore.  I've got to figure out how to solve that.....

Anyway, I'm so lucky to be their mother.  Not that they really need one, but it's so fun watching them grow up, sing and dance, get hairy, and pray about "finding a girly wife" (no, really. that happened) with Mike.  Who deserves some sort of recognition for putting up with my insanity this long.  I feel like we've been married long enough we've started to "get" each other.  I understand, now, that his dirty socks on the floor is not some personal vendetta against me and he understands that me losing my keys, mind, wallet, and/or purse is not his fault like I say it is.  Also, thank you, darling, for the near 500 pairs of women socks for no reason. I know you'll really miss me wearing yours all the time, but you're right, socks that fit are way more comfortable.