Monthly Archives: December 2010

There Ain’t No Stoppin’ Us Now

Merry Christmas and all that jazz. A little belated, and the heady stuff came last year, and, p.s., it SNOWED! (I like to mix things up a bit, keep you on your toes.)

Photo from

Hubs came through like The Ryan Express (that will be the only – I repeat, only – baseball reference ever to grace this blog) and got me this sweet contraption for Christmas. Why, yes, that is a Nikon D3100. Why do you ask? I would have taken a picture of it with my new toy, but, well, even M.C. Escher couldn’t swing that.

And in response to Hubs’ totally rad Christmas gift to me, I got him a slightly less rad but equally thoughtful present. (If I had known he was going to go balls-to-the-wall on my behalf, I would have stepped up my game.) Alas, he had to settle for an engraved iPod Touch (engraved with lyrics from the song we played at our wedding. Wha-BAM!) preloaded with Angry Birds and a handful of songs I knew he loved. And the real present was that I actually resisted playing Angry Birds before he had a chance to open his gift, resulting in virgin territory. Ahh, a gamer’s dream.

And now. Let the fun begin. Prepare, dear reader(s), to have a visual aid with Every. Single. Paragraph. From here on out. And because I only deliver empty promises to my children (hyuk hyuk), behold the power of the Nikon, a set of mini-drums, and staggering beauty that will make you catch your breath and possibly weep. If you’re a total nancy. (Just kidding.)

He's gotta FEEL the music...

Bug’s Christmas list to Santa was a whopping four-and-a-half things (the half was an afterthought), all of which he received, except for the half (he asked for a puppy, the little snot). He got the extra-cool things from Hubs and me (Epic Mickey and a skateboard) and the kinda-lame thing from Santa (Kung Zhu pets…honestly, who sat around and thought, you know what animal would make a deadly ninja? HAMSTERS! WIN!) and the pièce de résistance, a fully functional (Fully. Functional.) three-piece drum set, courtesy of my baby sister, who is still childless.

Behold, my little ball of noise (read: he who needs no help) jamming out to his numero uno Christmas present. Earplugs not included.

It must be nice to get everything on your Christmas list. I’ve been asking for a horse since I was three, and I have yet to get one that is black with a white mark on her nose so I could name her “Star.” Just kidding. Horses frighten me, because they are large.

Bean, Beauty Incarnate

And then there is this gorgeous gal, whose Christmas list was basically anything she could put in her mouth. We obliged, because how can anyone say no to that face? (Just to clarify, I’m pretty sure you are staring at the most beautiful baby on the planet.)

And so, Bean’s first Christmas was one to be remembered (not by her, though, obviously), with chew toys galore, a personal rock concert in-between naps, and snow on the ground to boot.

At this point, I plan to hibernate until April, now that the only reason I put up with cold weather is over.

Merry Christmas! Happy New Year! Joy to the World! Fruit cake!

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Your Love is Better than Chocolate

I promise, one day I’ll get used to it.

Actually, that is a blatant lie.

I will never get used to it.

What I will do, probably today in fact, is ignore the sink full of dirty dishes that something living just scampered out of, and turn a blind eye to the pile of dirty laundry so large I can carve a cave into it for shelter, and then I will sit in the corner with my two babies in my lap. They will be quiet and affectionate and understanding, and won’t whine to please, Mom, let me go, I want to karate chop something, or whine because the view hasn’t changed in awhile, and she is utterly bored and demands stimulation for her growing, growing brain, but they will let me hold and kiss and slobber all over them without complaint.

And then, because I refused to do anything, Time will stop and I can sit there for as long as I like, and twenty years later, my two children will still be six-years- and six-months-old, respectively, and I will have had my fill of being a mother of a six-year- and a six-month-old, respectively, and then we can pick up where we left off, dirty laundry and all, and continue on our way, and Bug will be six-years-old for another six months, and Bean will be six-months-old for another two weeks, and I will be ready, then, to have a seven-year-old and a one-year-old, twenty years from now.

Because if I had twenty years to experience the way my Bug smells after kicking and punching imaginary foes into submission, and twenty years to experience the sheer, unadulterated glee and wonder shining from my Bean’s new and ever-amazed eyes, and twenty years to experience the exact weight of two little first-grader arms around my neck granting me a blissful hug, however brief and obtrusive it may be to his busy, busy agenda of sharpening his kung fu skills, and twenty years to experience the tiny pressure Bean’s tiny fist makes when pulling, feeling, tasting my hair, and twenty years to experience the timbre of my son’s voice and six-year-old lisp as he tells me about dinosaurs, or volcanoes, or outer space, and twenty years to experience the intoxicating aroma of Bean’s skin after a bath, and twenty years to experience the excited expression on Bug’s face when I pick him up from school, eager to see me again, or maybe his baby sister again, or maybe his coin collection again, and twenty years to experience Bean’s toothless grin, so easy to come by, so unabashedly shared, usually in company of a squeal or a coo or a wet and delicious spit bubble…

If I had twenty years to memorize the way my children are today, then it will hardly be enough time, but I can be sort of okay with it, if I can have another twenty years to memorize the way they will be tomorrow.


Filed under Parenting