7 Quick Takes

It's not quite midnight yet, so I'm going to sneak in some quick takes. 

*********** 1 **********

I really wish I could have seen the events that led up to the following conversation with Cuckoo.

Me: Why don't you have pants on?
Him: They fell off.

*************** 2 **************

Our three oldest kids had their Christmas musical last night.  Buttercup got to play a few Christmas songs while everyone found their seats. 

****************** 3 ********************

 Once the musical began, I was hit upside the head with a whole fistful of reality when I saw all of my babies up there with their classmates.  When all dolled up, their classmates look so very almost grown.   I was most struck by the girls.  It made me realize how much I have failed my daughter thus far.   She isn't a little girl anymore, even if that's what I see when I look at her.  For years, she didn't want me to touch her hair, so I would simply stick it in a ponytail.  Once she figured out how to do that on her own, I stopped doing her hair.  As a little girl, she was not interested in clothes at all.  I was happy to put her in sweats and similar play clothes most of the time.  Over the last 6 months or so, she's been getting up early to "get ready" for school.  I let her, but didn't get involved.  I realized last night that I haven't taught her anything about what to do.  How to curl her hair or straighten it or braid it or take care of it.  I don't discuss clothing with her, except on the rare occasion that she asks my opinion. 

It's shocking, really, as I was so, so awkward growing up, not knowing how to do anything with my appearance.  Now that I have learned, you'd think I'd be all over teaching my daughter and saving her from that awkwardness as much as possible.  It never crossed my mind. 

******************* 3 ******************

Last night, after the musical, after the middle school party, after the kids were in bed, I went up and climbed into bed with Buttercup.  She was quite taken aback, for sure, as I have only done that maybe once or twice since she was five.  I assured her there was no emergency or terrible news.  I simply wanted to apologize for not being the best "girl" mom I could be.  With five boys in the house, my "boy" mom tendencies got center stage, as they are so much easier for me.  I promised to change.  I will tap into that young girl I used to be and help her through these funky middle school years.

While she doesn't want me anywhere near the middle school party, (tough cookies.  I'm chaperoning.) I think she was quite happy that we had our little talk.

***************** 4 *************** 

Hubby and I watched a short bit of Barbara Walters' Most Fascinating People show the other night.   After a minute, Hubby said,  "Add "my booty" to the end of any and all of Barbara's sentences".

You must try it at home.

********************* 5 ***************

Are you surprised and impressed that I got to #5 without talking about my kitchen?  Be patient.  It's coming.

*************** 6 *******************

The wind blew in yesterday, bringing cold, cold temps and snow.  It was the perfect weather for cuddling up in jammies for a lovely Christmas movie marathon.  Too bad it couldn't happen.  School was not cancelled, but delayed two hours.  And it was an early dismissal day.  So basically, I took the kids to school in order for them to turn in their last homework assignments and participate in their extra-long class Christmas parties.  I'm fine with that. 

And I'm not just saying that because the principal of the school has now seen the blog. 

Giant came home today with the news that my friend, the assistant principal, showed the blog to the principal.  Mrs. P approached Giant and said, "I saw A Fly on our Chicken Coop Wall and read the post about the pig.  Does your mom like to exaggerate?"

When he got to this part of the story, I cringed.  I know him enough to know that he will say exactly what he thinks.  I really like to prep him for these types of questions.   My mind immediately went into damage control mode, coming up with a plan in case he called me out as a liar.  After the killing the bitch essay, I'm a bit twitchy when it comes to my kids telling stories about our family.

I was so, so happy that his reply was, "No, she doesn't.  That's really how it happened."

******************** 7 ********************

And the moment you've all been waiting for.  Unless you're tired of hearing about my new kitchen, which is really quite possible.  The counter tops were put in today!  Because of the bad weather, it was delayed a bit.  Just a bit, but enough that the plumber couldn't get here.  So, while my kitchen looks good, it is not quite usable yet.

The view from the mudroom:

and from the dining room (that doorway in the previous photo (while standing on a chair)):

******************** 7 1/2 **********************

It's finally starting to feel like Christmas.   We have been able to move a lot of things out of the piano room and into the kitchen, thus leaving room for a tree.  We have a tree!  Tomorrow afternoon we will decorate it.  Seeing as how Santa is coming to our house tomorrow night (We're on a special "We travel for Christmas and aren't about to drag gifts for six children back from Ohio" route.)  I'd say it's about time. 

Have a lovely day!

And because Hubby is in bed already, I have to tell you what I just did.

As soon as I pushed "publish" I broke into a coffee cup of Hershey Kisses I received as a gift from one of my preschool students.  (I recently gave up my peanut M&M habit, and wanted just a bite of chocolate.  (Get your jaw up off the ground.  I don't move enough to work off the pounds of M&Ms I consume.  So I quit.)) I popped it in my mouth, only to discover that the green tinfoil didn't just mean Christmas, but also mint.  I hate mint.  If you like mint, I don't want to hear it.  Mint is a polarizing taste, and I hate it.

So, to get rid of that horrible taste in my mouth, I grabbed a piece of candy my mom sent back with us from our trip to her house in Kentucky last weekend.  I don't know what it was, but it tasted terrible.  I actually spit it out into the trash.  So, I did what any desperate woman with a horrible taste in my mouth would do.  I cut myself a big ol' piece of apple pie that a baker-client had given Hubby for Christmas.  

I know there's a moral in there somewhere, but I'm too tired to figure it out.