View from my front porch...

...at 11 p.m. last night.

Obnoxious much?

Too much partying, Part 2

On Friday, the partying continued.

I took Blake and Sydney to school, and we were just a minute or two late. And the tardy team wanted to give them tardy slips. Seriously, y'all? We're here ONLY for a party, and we'll be out of here by 9:30. Why do we need to record that we were 1 minute and 45 seconds late?

Their parties were very usual, and I actually really love these times that I get to meet their friends and have real conversations with their teachers and the friends' mothers. Here's Syd and her friends with their teacher.


By the way, her teacher this year is amazing. She understands the girl drama, and she does such a great job of helping the girls build relationships. She's no nonsense, but she has a great sense of humor, and she loves to teach. I love her.

And here's Blake with his teacher:


She, too, is amazing. She's awesome with the kids, giving each of them an endearing nickname, and fostering their individual skills. She's VERY organized, and I really enjoy the days I get to work for her in the workroom. Blake adores her, and I feel so fortunate that the Lord saw fit to give each of my kids teachers who are perfect for their learning styles.

When we left the school, we ran by the house to pick up the little guys. (Thank you, Uncle James, for staying the morning with them and feeding them breakfast. You rock.) Then we took them to their OTHER school for their Christmas parties. And yes, they're in two schools, but only for the months of November and December because we're in the midst of switching them over. Come January, they'll be enrolled in only one school for two days a week. (Did you really need to know that?)

But what I love about this little school is that it's little. And it's sweet. And it's informal. Yet the kids learn a ton and I feel so safe leaving them in a place where they're nurtured and cared for. Brady's class did a sweet little play, and he was a shepherd. He stepped up and sang his part beautifully, all the while tossing around that sad little stuffed sheep.

Here's a picture of the whole class, doing their play. Is it horrible that the only decent picture of Max that I have is by accident? He snuck into this one. Poor youngest child. He just wants in on the action.

Since I didn't get a video at the actual show, I had Brady recreate his part this afternoon. Enjoy the video. He is SO adorable. And I'm not one bit biased.

Too much partying, Part 1

This has been the week of school Christmas parties. Lots of parties. Really, why do they have school this week at all because it's really just a bunch of parties.

Anyway, we'll start with Thursday because it was probably the most hilarious. Brady and Max attend a little MDO in Boerne, and their Christmas program each year is OUT OF CONTROL.

The children are trained to yell songs over funky recordings of Christmas carols, and we parents line up to take pictures like the paparazzi. Really, seriously, over the top for a bunch of preschoolers. But we do it. We do it because we love them.

So the morning starts with the actual program. I was sitting in a place where I couldn't even see Max, so there are no pictures of him, and honestly, I have no idea how well he performed. Does that make me a horrible mother?

But Brady was hilarious. He started the program sweet like this.


Then he began making faces at me like this. (Please note the little girl in the pink cowboy boots that so obviously scream "Merry Christmas". Welcome to Texas.)


Then he began play-fighting the little boy next to him like this (which I actually found more entertaining than the program itself).



After the program was over (and not a moment too soon), parents were supposed to take the kids to their classrooms. Brady wasn't about to let me out of his sight, so we went to Max's classroom, where Santa was waiting for him. Max, as usual, lunged for Santa and loved on him like he's known him all his life.


We then snuck out of the room to take Brady to his classroom for his party. That's when we encountered Santa again. Man, for an old guy, he moves fast. (Look closely...the preschool had managed to find TWO suits, so the morning moved along much faster. Thank you, preschool.)

This was our last day at this particular preschool, and we will miss them. They are a sweet bunch of ladies who work hard to provide a place where parents can feel safe leaving their children to be loved on. I hope they know what an awesome ministry they provide.

Facebook is good for something

Sometimes I really hate Facebook. Sometimes there's high school drama revisited. Sometimes it sucks way too much of my time, and I wonder why on earth I ever signed on to the monster network that is Facebook.

But sometimes it's awesome. I've been able to catch up with friends I'd forgotten I had. And with friends that I treasured in my teens. And while it's totally surreal that we're all grownups now, with our own children, it's great to catch up. At our core, we probably haven't changed all that much. At least most of us haven't. We're more kind and more forgiving and more mature. But we still possess the same personalities that drew us to each other in the beginning.

So this week, Maria (LAHS class of 1991) and her clan came to dinner. They currently live in Colorado, and they lived in California for several years, making her the most amazing wine country tour guide (my deepest thanks to her for her guidance on our trip this past year). She is now married to an Englishman, which means she now uses the word "lovely" and says a lot of things with a British accent. Her little boys are gorgeous, and she is a "lovely" mother. I was thrilled to have her sweet family in our home.

(Please, no comments about the hat. It had been a long day, and I never had a chance to shower. I'm begging SOMEBODY to tell me that I'm not alone here.)

My fondest memory of Maria is that she was my partner for some kind of cruel project in the 7th or 8th grade. I felt sorry for her because she got stuck with the kid who had a THICK southern drawl (that would be me). She was WAY smarter than I was (and probably still is), so I'm thinking that she probably did most of the work. Sorry, Maria. I think we invented a cordless hairdyer. A really heavy and totally hypothetical cordless hairdryer. Which, come to think of it, was likely my idea because like I said, Maria was way smarter than I was and probably could have invented something way cooler if she'd had a partner that valued anything more than she valued her own hair (which apparently I've grown out of, thus, the hat).

Anyway, the boys ran around all evening like houligans. Syd went to bed early, so she's absent from the really perfect picture we managed to get of all of our boys. I don't care who it is, when you get this many little boys together, you're blessed if only one of them is screaming bloody murder. Lovely.

Side note: Earlier that day, I'd gone to the HEB to pick up wine for dinner. I'd left my ID in another bag, and do you know that sweet girl at the checkout actually CARDED me? When I couldn't produce an ID, she refused to sell me any wine. And while I was irritated to have to ask Andy to pick some up on the way home, I've never been more flattered. So thank you, HEB checkout girl. You're my new BFF.

More flags, more fun

Sunday evening, we took the kids to Six Flags to see Santa. We got season passes REALLY cheap this year, and the park was only open from 4 to 10 for Holiday in the Park. Rumor had it that they had a decent Santa and a sled run, and we figured it might be worth fighting the crowd, so we lined up along with a few other people to get in when the park opened.

And it was so worth it.

We went straight to Santa, who was the most awesome Santa ever.

Too bad my photography skills are so lacking. And too bad I couldn't get all four kids to smile and look at the camera AT THE SAME TIME. Oh, well. Some day.

Santa really took his time, and it was so sweet. But check out Brady's hair. What on earth was going on there?

I will say that Santa might have been playing favorites just a little. He LOVED Max and threatened to take him home to the North Pole. I thought about letting him give it a go because have you spent more than an hour with Max lately? Santa would be back. Like I always say to Max, "It's a good thing you're so darn cute." And it is. A very good thing.

Humor me

I love that my boys are funny. I live in a house full of comedians, and it makes my job amazing. This post is just a tidbit of the hilarity in our home.

Earlier this week I asked my little guys what they wanted to be when they grow up. This is what they said:

Brady: A knight who flies in an airplane and kills dragons.

Max: An elephant.
Brady: You're a boy. You can't grow up to be an elephant.
Max: Oh. A guy that wears an elephant costume. And scares birds.

Ba-dum-bum. And they're only two and three. I cannot WAIT to see what these two grow up to become.

And if you've only met Blake, it's easy to mistake him for completely and totally serious. He definitely thinks a lot, and he is often pretty serious. But that kid has a sense of humor that I just adore. Recently, he's been studying the Alamo at school (we live in San Antonio, after all). He had to make up some multiple choice questions about the Alamo, and this is what he came up with:

1. Who brought 14 more men to the USA army?
a. Davy Crockett
b. the New York army
c. George W. Bush

2. What did Texas become?
a. a place for weirdos
b. a giant cup of hot cocoa
c. independent

3. What did the Alamo become?
a. a library
b. a national landmark
c. Santa Claus's house

And yes, I am aware that Texas has indeed become a place for weirdos.

Praise God for the gift of laughter. And Praise God that He has blessed us so lavishly with that particular gift in this home.

Fancy family

Saturday morning, Syd and I thought we'd run down to the Michael's at the Rim to pick up supplies for an afternoon of Christmas crafting. I pulled on a pair of jeans and slung my hair into a pony tail.

When I walked out of my bedroom, Brady asked, "Mom, where are you going? Why are you all dressed up?"

I'm not sure whether it was the lip gloss or the sequins on my t-shirt that threw him. Really, Amy, get out much?

When I came home, Brady was dressed in his usual home-all-day-with-no-good-reason-to-put-pants-on outfit. Please notice the plastic backpack and trendy green rubber belt.

In other news, Sydney is doing a fabulous job of teaching Brady his letters. She will make a fabulous teacher and mother some day. He spends hours making B's and P's and a whole bunch of other letters that he really likes to think he knows, but really hasn't a clue quite yet. I love that he's taken this sudden interest in using crayons appropriately, and he's always so proud of himself. Who wouldn't love that grin?

It's all in the family

Thanksgiving Day was great fun around here. I was honored to host both sets of grandparents, my in-laws, and my uncle Brian and his sweet wife, Carla.

But once again, I did a dreadful job of taking pictures. I did not take a single picture of either set of grandparents or of the in-laws. I know, it's like I'm discriminating against AARP. I wish I had a decent excuse, but I don't. I'm just really bad at remembering to take pictures, even though I own at least three cameras.

But thanks to Dale and Larry for being the most awesome in-laws ever. Dale is so natural in the kitchen, and she thinks of everything I forget, which pretty much means she thinks of everything. And Larry, oh, sweet Larry, is the dishwasher. And he never complains. Love that.

My sweet Nonnie showed up early for dinner to help out. She vacuumed my carpets for me and shined up my dining room table. And she acted as if it were an honor to do so.

Grandma made her famous pralines, which were gobbled up rather quickly. Yum.

James, uncle-extraordinaire, is always up for a story, and he suckers for Max's little smile every time. And Max adores him for it. As a side-note, they are reading a Justice League story, and Max always points to Wonder Woman and calls her Mommy. Love that kid.

There were lots of gifts from grandparents. The kids love to open their treasures. Syd loves to model hers. This kid was born for the camera and the stage.

I love being in regular communication with my grandparents, and now with my uncle B. I grew up making laundry-room-recordings with him, and at the risk of offending other uncles (like any of them actually read this), Brian was always my favorite. As he and his amazing wife Carla sat at my kitchen table, I asked him if he ever would have dreamed when I was seven and belting "Elvira" at the top of my lungs that he would one day sit in my kitchen on Thanksgiving, watching my four children play with his dog. I think his response was something like, "No, that pretty much still blows my mind." Um, mine too.

Speaking of uncle B's dog, Jake was the guest of honor, as far as the kids were concerned. Carla has done a fabulous job training him, and we adore him. Now if I could just talk her into training a dog for us.

Sydney has been begging for a dog for...well, pretty much forever. Look how much she loves Jake.

Even Brady took to him. Amazing. Seriously. That dog is welcome in my home any time. And that's saying something.

They grow up so fast

That's what all the little old ladies at the grocery store tell me, anyway. Some days, it's so hard to believe. Some days, I'm just praying for bedtime to get here ASAP so I can lose myself in peace and quiet.

But yesterday was not one of those days. Yesterday, I loved my job. The kids were well-behaved, and we even braved dinner out with my friend Jennifer and her gorgeous teenage daughter (no, James, you can't meet her). I was so proud of my little clan. They were sweet and charming, and generally amazing. How is it that I am so blessed?

I've been waiting for the perfect time to move Max into his "big boy bed". And yesterday night seemed just perfect. Both he and Brady were worn out but still happy, so I was pretty sure they'd both go to sleep pretty quickly. And Max was SO excited when I brought the toddler bed in from the garage. He was ready to go to bed immediately. He did great last night. He fell out of bed once, but I put him back in, and he went right back to sleep. This morning, he woke up so proud of himself.

Perhaps I'm a little biased, but he really IS cute, isn't he?

These are the moments that being a SAHM is a dream job.

And as I look at the pics I took last night of my baby in his new bed, I can't help but be a little sad that he's growing up. That they're all growing up.

Those little old ladies know what they're talking about. Next time one of them tells me to cherish these days, I am making a commitment to take their advice seriously.

These days will be gone before I know it, and I'll be wishing to have them back again. I don't want any regrets.