Kiss those babies!
~Dy
Sent via DROID on Verizon Wireless
If you don't mind the construction dust, come on in. The coffee's hot, the food's good, and the door is open...

Oh, have mercy! It's all going too quickly!I've got ten minutes while the Creamy Citrus Ginger dressing mellows, then I'll have to go round up the children and turn a hose on 'em so they can eat. Ah, it's gorgeous out. AND, I have a child who asks to mix up something called Creamy Citrus Ginger Dressing. Seriously? When I was 12, I failed a Home Ec assignment because my lab partner and I were convinced that if we doubled the brown sugar and the chocolate chips, we'd create the BEST COOKIE BARS EVAH. For obvious reasons, Mrs. Baker (kid you not, real name) disagreed. We could not choke down the cookie bars to save our grades. But here, I have been blessed with a child who makes this, and not even for a grade! Ah. Sometimes, when life is not fair, it's totally not fair in-a-good-way. Mrs. Baker would be proud. Or shocked. But I'm going with proud.
Zorak, turns out, broke. his. arm. on our ski trip. Yeah, I know. I have no clue what can be done a month later, but he goes in tomorrow to see a specialist about how to deal with it. He asked me last night to go with, so I've spent the morning leaving messages with everyone I know who either lives between us and the doctor, or isn't afraid to watch five kids at a Chick-Fil-A playground for an hour. On a day's notice. Wee! (You can imagine how terrifyingly short that list is. *sigh*) I very briefly considered giving Jase a heavy dose of Nyquil and just taking them all with us, but that was only for fun. Nobody really does that. Anymore. Ah, yes. So, I'm hoping somebody will call me back and say, "Sure! I love those fries!"
We spent the weekend thinking about getting some work done on the land. Got the driveway graded, so that was huge. Plus, we got to visit with friends when that was done, so that was cool. You can't hear the Volvo cry out in pain when Zorak leaves each morning, now. It's very comforting. Now, to get gravel on it before it rains. That will be the challenge.
And, I do believe that was ten minutes! Time for lunch! Yum!
Kiss those babies!
~Dy

Hindsight perspectives:
James, once he figured out the math behind it, was fearless and amazing. He did all the jumps and wiped out much. Twice, I fully expected to see blood and have to call the dentist for an emergency surgery. Nope. Turns out the kid's not much of a bleeder. 


Jase was an angry, angry elf. Poor kid. Didn't like his snow boots b/c they were "too slippery". He finally came to terms w/ them, and then we got there and he had to put on ski boots. He stood up and slipped on the concrete floor. "Too slippery!" So what did we do? We put him on skis and set him on an icy surface. Yeah. I can totally see how, from his perspective, the day just went from bad to worse. Thankfully, he'll not have any concrete images upon which to hang his vague, nebulous fears in the future. So we can blame some total stranger, right? (We took his skis off, and he had a wonderful time climbing the snow residue at the edge, and eating Cheetos by the fire inside the office. He's fine. Really.)
Zorak had a blast. He loves to ski. Today, he got to ski with his children. He was so happy.
I didn't particularly relish the idea. Not that we weren't already active and busy with the organization, but let's face it -- Those pants would be unflattering on Lauren Bacall. And I'm not Lauren Bacall. Plus, there was the training. The study. The
And I was right. There are hours upon hours of training to wade through. And that's just the online stuff.
Winter Wonderland, Day 4. I think the kids are just about done "enjoying" the cold, snow, and ice. Well, it's mostly ice, now. And very, very cold. (For here.) As of one in the afternoon, two had *just* gone out to play. One went back to bed (he's not been feeling 100%), one hunkered in with the Gears, and one begged for a long, hot bath. I could do with a little of that, myself. All of it.
It's been fantastic, though! EmBaby, who has been heartily resistant to ski lessons, slid down one of the sledding hills on her feet, declared it a "total blast", and then embraced the whole ski-thing when we explained that that's pretty much what skiing is, but with longer shoes and no tread to get in the way. If only all obstacles were so easily overcome, eh?
We have a hint of a fort in the upper meadow. James and a friend started it, and spent hours building bricks, stacking them, and chinking the cracks. Wow. I don't think the fort is going to get much beyond the foundation levels, though. It's too icy now to pack well, and they get frustrated. But it was fun. I think we need to go spend Christmas at Yellowstone some year. The kids can stay in the igloo they build, and Zorak and I could pretend it was a "romantic getaway", there in the lodge. (Yeah, I know. But it's fun to pretend.)
We're down to the newest wood we gathered this year. It's too wet to burn well. Or something. Could be me. Probably is me. I'm not good with fire, really. But until Zorak gets home and proves me wrong by getting the fire stoked and hot, I am going to insist the dropping inside temp and the copious smoke are all due to damp wood.
Kiss those babies!
We had enough to sled...
To build snow forts...
To sled some more...
To have snowball fights...
And to stump a toddler!
(If they knew who Patrick Dempsey is, I might have mentioned that he did it on screen, but I haven't seen this movie, so I don't know if that would have helped.) Instead I had to make up numbers about heat loss through the head. I know it gets out, and I know it's a significant percentage, but I couldn't remember the exact rate. So I did what any good mother does when she's right, but just doesn't have the documentation on her - I punted. Now they can live long enough, and comfortably enough, to forgive me later.
Tamales - this is Zorak's Christmastime tradition. He loves doing it, and the water bath canner works perfectly for larger batches (plus, this saves it from the shame of being a unitasker, per Alton Brown).
We left some for Santa. He was very good to us, in exchange.
We found a new pecan pie recipe! I know, I know, this comes very close to announcing, "We have reinvented the WHEEL!" But it's true. This recipe is very different from traditional pecan pie, but it's oh, so very good. OH so good. It's the recipe on the back of the 40 oz. ALAGA Original Corn Syrup. I can't explain it. You'll just have to come over and we'll make you one.

He's really changed so much this year - got in his two-year molars (that was fun - you'd think, by the fifth child, we would automatically suspect that, but no, I spent a week wondering if he'd been bitten by something that was making him miserable and weepy), he ditched the diapers and the toddler bed. All that was left was a haircut, and we'd be waving goodbye to the last of the Truly Baby Years.
We hated to do it. He's got curls in the back, and he can pull off a carefree surfer dude thing without any real effort. Unfortunately, his hair is baby fine and he has enough for four toddlers. Add in how much time we spend outside, either on the trail or wrestling the dog, and you have the perfect recipe for having that one child who looks homeless more often than he looks cherubic and clean, and... well, we had to do it.
He did beautifully - had a blast, no trauma, and he got a great cut. It helped that Michelle, the lady who cut his hair, was a sweet, patient, funny lady who didn't mind that he has his own entourage/vaudeville act that follows him around. Honestly, sometimes I wish we'd had a pack of children living with us already when we had James. Siblings just make every outing an adventure, and every new milestone something fun and interesting. Jase has it good.
Kiss those babies!
2010 simply got away from me. It wasn't a bad year, but it wasn't a stellar year, either. Zorak noticed it, too. We couldn't figure out why, though, until a friend posted her reading list for the year. Then it hit me, like all obvious things do when you've been narrowly missing the point for quite some time: we lost our focus.