Getting back into life...and scrapbooking

I think pretty much all my readers (all 3?) are aware that our family experienced a death a couple weeks ago. I plan to blog about that when I can get my thoughts together.

In the meantime...

This week I burned thru my Hobby Lobby gift cards from Christmas! I was able to complete six pages for Connor's baby book and just last night, two for Mia's. I am overjoyed to be able to finally utilize all the little doodads I've been saving from the hospital (am I nuts for keeping the kids' cord clamps? Maybe. Am I nuts for keeping Mia's little dried umbilical stump in a Ziploc bag? Probably. Gross. Oh well. It's goin' in there.).

Enjoy the layouts. Click the images to enlarge.

Performing Arts, or Self-Torture?

Perhaps I'm writing this so I won't chicken out.

It's been *insert embarrassingly lengthy time span here* since my last confession--er--audition. And I'm thinking of doing one. Oh Lord. Why?

Most days I'm perfectly content doing what I do with my evenings, tucking in wee ones and parking my rear on the couch beside the Hubby to watch DiscoveryHD in my slipper socks. Quiet time in our household is cherished. Relished. Anticipated. During the week, my daylight hours are filled with appointments, trips to the gym, to preschool and play dates, housecleaning, sibling mediation, meal preps...and then, blissfully...nothing after ten PM. Steve and I--we just quietly allow ourselves to zone out (I know, most of you thought our night life was spicier...) until our eyelids won't stay parted. Why would I want to disrupt such a beautiful system and commit myself to a possible three months of obligation from 7-11 pm? I'm not sure. Also, I think maybe there's a little demon inside me whose sole pleasure is watching me turn white with terror.

CTC's doing Company in March (Ah, Sondheim!), and auditions are in a week. I just...I think...oh, criminy. I'm picturing something along the lines of that scene in The Little Mermaid, when Scuttle picks up the snarfblatt and blows into it, expecting beautiful music. Instead, a load of sea sludge and kelp bubbles out. Me? I'm the snarfblatt. It's been a while.





LEFT PHOTO: In my youth and channeling Carol Burnett.











RIGHT PHOTO: Taken this morning, before I'd had my coffee and OsteoBiFlex.











I'll borrow a line from my son when he first saw me acting, in a skit for Vacation Bible School:
"Mommy, don't get up on that stage again."

Dinner conversation

Me: Connor, tell your daddy what you learned today. What kind of letters are A,E,I,O, and U?

Connor: Vowels!

Me: Right on, Son! And what are the other ones called?

Connor: Coincidence!

Photo peeks

We're all quarantined with the post-Holidays crud virus (except Lucky Steve), so just thought I'd post a few more pics from Christmas. Back when everyone was rosy with health. Get your eyes full of my youngest fully clothed. This week she's learned to undress herself, and nothing will do her but to run around half-clad, icy fingers and toes growing ever more frost-prone. I suppose she'd accept dress if she got cold enough...



This sweet pic just tells a story, doesn't it? I love her little upside-down rabbit.



They're at Mom's house here. Mia's trying to get those britches down in this picture. We found a bug bite on her bottom (how the heck?) she was probably trying to get at, but I still think she just wanted to be naked. My little girl is a nudist.




Watching for Santa? Hardly. The neighbor across the street had to call a tow truck and it was THE entertainment pinnacle of our trip to Alabama.

Auld Lang Syne

Ever get the post-holiday blues? I can't settle on why I'm a touch melancholy this afternoon...maybe it's the gloomy skies and our soggy backyard...maybe I'm experiencing sympathy pangs along with my poor little invalid son--bless him--he hasn't budged from his little blanket cocoon since I piled him on the couch this morning, feverish and bubbling from the lungs and nostrils. A simple virus, but he just looks pitiful. I think we all have a touch of the Christmas Decompression Sickness.

We are finally back from our travels and settling into nice, normal life. In a way, I'm glad the Holidays are over for another year, although it was simply magical experiencing it through the eyes of my children this time. Connor got just what he wanted this Christmas--games and art supplies. And Mia is now the proud "Mommy" of about nine new baby dolls, as well as the owner of a passel of supplies to keep them happy: bottles, bath set, stroller, diaper bags. I won't rattle off the complete list of their treasures, but suffice it to say nobody's going to be bored in our household for quite some time. With few exceptions, both sides of our family remain well and content, and we got to spend time with nearly everyone. A true blessing.

Our most recent and final Holiday stop was to visit Mom and my grandparents. There, we rung in the new year. We did our best to brighten my 90-year-old Poppie's spirits at his hospital bedside in Montgomery, AL. Although I fought impending anarchy as the children quickly became bored and restless, I knew it was as important for them to be there as it was for me. After some coaxing, Connor agreed to read an adaptation of Luke chapter 2 (the story of Christ's birth) for everyone. Poppie was proud as could be of his great-grandson. The two of them have always shared a special friendship. Our prayers for Poppie are ongoing.

Now at home, I'm left with the wonderful job of packing up the decorations, washing up travel duds and finding places for all the new STUFF (After cleaning out the basement and hauling a van-load of donations to the thrift store last week, I certainly hope we won't have trouble in that department!).

If I can get the bloomin' video to load properly, I'll post Connor's Bible reading. It touches my heart like nothing else.