So before I forget...

I'm losing it! My memory is completely gone.  I can't remember what happened earlier today, let alone last week.  I'm blaming the (caffeinated *gasp!*) diet coke.  That stuff is terrible for you.  (and I'll continue drinking it now!)

Awhile ago, before the 6 week Christmas break of doom (we're year round and super bored over here!) Mitchell had a little concert.  Grades K-6.  Each grade sings 2 songs.  I'm thinking two 2-minute songs equals, what? 28 mins? We'll be done in an hour, max.  Nope! That wasn't even close.  And kindergarten is last.  And Mitchell put his hand in his mouth the entire time.  And then I took a picture of this mom taking a picture of her kid, in all the pictures I took.  Really great.  But it was cute.  And really cute that Mitchell thought it was the best thing ever we were there.

Anyway, Christmas.  Every year, Santa tries *really* hard not to buy everything in sight, but fails, always fails. Some parents really love buying and keeping cute little clothes for their children, or shoes, but I, for some stupid reason, love toys.  I've never actually got rid of a non-happy meal toy yet.  Which is sort of terrifying.  And then I got all choked up *boxing* up my baby baby toys.  It's ridiculous.  I try to rein it in buy just buying the same thing over and over again (re: legos & playmobil sets), so storage doesn't become (more of) an OCD issue (guys.  It's intense.  I'm the least clean person in the world, and yet I have the most insane toy room storage set up.  Not that it's ever clean, but when it is, it's not normal.)  But the lego duplo bucket has officially become too small. And I'm not getting rid of those.

So, Ali & Mitchell got figurines for their huge collection and some (more) legos. Mitchell is into the feet breaking small kind.  He loves the instructions.  He's actually got all the instructions under his bed (for some reason, he feels this is a "safe zone". His homework is also under there.)  He keeps them with him since he knows his mother (me) throws papers away without blinking.  (See.  Not a hoarder.  Only a hoarder of toys.)

And Jessica (Ali's child), got a bed.  Ali helped Jessica open it, and it was the funniest thing ever.  Jessica is terrified of sleeping without Ali, so mostly she just takes naps there.

Also, video games. Yeah, we're that family.   But I did add "put pants on" to Mitchell's chore chart, so *usually* they're not totally naked when the UPS man comes to the door.  Fun times.  If only I could add "get dressed once, and only once, and wear one outfit for an entire day" to Ali's.  But Ali doesn't do her chore chart without me nagging at her all day.  Mitchell, on the other hand, completes his chores every morning by 6am.  Have you ever woken up to your 5 year old scrubbing base boards? Let me tell you, it's really quite nice.   I wish I would have thought of it sooner.  The kid lives on routine.   Add "clean the entire house" to the routine, and guess what? It gets clean.  Amazing.  I do not have that kind of stamina.

Moving on, everything keeps breaking.  I get frustrated and Mike says "it's the 7 year itch.  The year all the appliances die"  Toaster=gone.  Pencil Sharpener=gone, tears, broken opened, hacked, sort of fixed.  (that seems stupid, but I love my pencil sharpener.  It was a wedding gift and I nearly cried when I thought it was gone forever)  And one level of tree lights=gone.  Right after we decorated it.  Upon closer examination, I found that each light was zip-tied on.  Hhaha. right.  I'm not taking those off.  We've been meaning to replace this $20 tree for about 3 years now.  So we  threw it away this year.  (Mitchell freaked out.)  So it has to happen.  I'm trying to tackle one down now, (because, *sales*) but I'm having weird anxiety over the whole thing.  (I don't know.  I wanted a new tree for so long, but now I have options.  Will skinny ones be in style for a long time or will I hate it 2 years?) stress. loads of stress. stupid stress, I know.

Speaking of stress, something in my brain died.  The part that says "no, no.  Just say no.  You literally are out of day light and sanity" and so I started another business.  It started innocently enough.  "We should add some illustration things to meags & me" But meags & me is pretty established as a quilt pattern company.  The goal was famous by Christmas, that hasn't totally happened yet hahah.  But it seemed against the brand. (Yeah, that's right.  I called it a brand)  So the idea was dropped until mom & I taught with the same primary manual and our little story stones sort of exploded. "You should sell these" said too many people.  So I did.  I listed them on etsy and people bought them.  Weirdest thing ever.  Not expected at all.  Not that anyone is buying them now but apparently people buy things for their kids at Christmas.  It was great.  I had every spare corner of our house covered in rocks.  So we didn't cook.  (you win some, you lose some.  Everyone is sick of corn dogs and pizza hut now)

And THEN! My baby is a sunbeam.  I can't. I can't even handle it.  But, as I should have expected, she waltzed right in like she owned the place, sat by Dean (Dean had a little deer in the headlight look, like all the other children (the other children that weren't in tears, that is), and said "bwahaha, BYE MOM. See you later!"

Okay, cool. See you later, darling.  She was so happy they sang lots of songs.  She loves singing.  Especially when she's supposed to be quiet.  Like when Mitchell is trying to sleep, or church.  Also when people say "shhhh".   She sings constantly. It's been "Let It Go" from Frozen, lately.  Also, "I came in like a wrecking ball" she sings it "I came in like a le-go" I don't listen to this nonsense.  No one I know listens to it.  She hears things one time and can sing all the words.  It's amazing and also freighting. (And a tiny bit embarrassing when it happens in front of the in-laws and also my mom that one time)

Ali didn't have a hat that fit her, so I put on Mitchell's hat from a previous year.  She said "Grammy is making me a pink one?" I said, "uhhh. I don't know honey, but we can get you a pink one at the store." Since I don't want grammy to feel obligated to knit new hats and gloves every year for my kids. I did *not* tell my mom this story or show her this picture:

Ali doesn't smile like a normal person. (I guess you know that at this point in the post).

But when we went over there, later that same day, grammy was knitting her a pink hat.  I have the best mom. 

And Ali loves this hat. 

Mitchell loves drawing.  I am biased, I know.  But is this not the cutest cat you've ever seen??!

 And finally, Ali got a(nother) outfit on, and coat/hat/tights and came downstairs announcing she had a date. "With whom?"
"Daddy! I is a princess, and mommy is the queen.  Mitchell is the king and daddy is the prince"
"Why isn't Daddy the king?"
"Because princesses marry princes and I'm going to marry Daddy!"
oh, okay, great.
"And then I will be Queen and have ICE POWER" (and she hold her arm out straight with her hand in my face ( a la Elsa, the snow queen, from Frozen)

Needless to say, Mike took the girl out.  How can you even say no to that.  They got ice cream.  Mike actually got water.  She was really concerned about that. (I mean right? Who doesn't want ice cream?)

 She does the most hilarious things.  I wish I could follow her around with a video camera all day long. I don't want her to grow up at all.

It was quiet upstairs, so I went to check on her and found this:

"What....are you all doing?"

"Shh. We are race cars.  We racing."

"....who's winning?"

"Shhh! ME."

Of course.  She wins at life.