Mr. Christmas

There's no escaping farm life and cows around here.  And our elf is no exception. Mr. Christmas has recently been spotted driving a combine and catching a Hereford who was on the loose.  Needless to say, the boys are pretty impressed that even our elf is a farm boy too.

Paschal Family Christmas

Today we celebrated Christmas with all the Paschals at Mama and Daddy's house.  This is the first time we've ever had Christmas away from Lillington, but since Granny and Papa moved out of their house and into an apartment, there just isn't room for all of us there.  I missed being at their big, old house, but enjoyed watching them open presents as much as I always have.  There really is nothing sweeter than how they respond to every single gift they receive.  They genuinely act like it is the best thing they've ever gotten in their life.  And if you give them homemade sweets or fresh eggs and sausage?  Forget about it.  You'd think they'd been given a million dollars. They really are  happy with the simple things, which makes me love them even more.

Unfortunately, only six of their eight grandchildren could be there for the Christmas festivities this year. Thankfully, all eleven of their great grandchildren were there to share the day with them.

This year Granny was surprised with a cookbook full of her recipes.  Jane and Mama sorted through her boxes of recipes and Mama compiled it all into a book.  Jane wrote the sweetest letter about Granny for the beginning of the book and everyone received their own copy of the cookbook.  Needless to say, Granny was shocked when she opened her gift and realized what it was.

And then the tears came.  She was so touched, so honored, so appreciative.  Her reaction moved all of us to tears. I doubt she knows that we are just as grateful to receive the book as she must be to have such a labor of love performed in her honor.  Those books and every recipe is a true treasure.  Just like she is. Just like they both are.

 

It's Not July, Sweetheart

Someone around here is enjoying the warm December weather a little more than I'd like him to.

Enjoying it, that is, by dragging out the water hose and dousing everything in his path with the freezing water.

The mischief that occurs when he slips on his new black cowboy boots is really starting to get him in trouble.  I'm one more Sharpie mishap away from tossing them in the burn barrel.

Note to self: Don't ignore a suspicious wet area in your driveway just because it's December and you think there's certainly no way that suspicious area could be the result of a forgotten water spigot.  Because four hours later when you peak outside again and see the wet area again, there may just be a reason for it. Like your littlest redneck may have been filling up his egg-collecting bucket and walked away without the slightest thought of turning the water off.  And that wet area in the driveway may be the result of the small river flowing out of your flooded back yard.  Little rednecks don't care that it's December when it's time to fill up a bucket.  Merry Christmas to our utility company.  Our water bill should cover the Christmas bonuses for the entire water department.  You're welcome.

257

Reason # 257 I love Sam's kindergarten teacher...the precious ornaments adorning my tree.  As a mother who treasures (and saves) every single trinket, my heart can barely contain the lovel when I look at the perfect keepsakes hanging from my tree.  Thank you, Mrs. Morris.

Just in Case

I took a picture of my tree today.  Just in case it doesn't make it to Christmas.  Because it ain't looking good for the dry, drooping, water deprived thing.  It began turning brown just days after we got it.  After taking in all the water in the base on the first day, it has yet to take in another drop of moisture.  The water hanging out in the base is merely part of the decorations now.  Our tree has chosen to accept it's fate with a a large dose of stubbornness and in doing so, we may likely not have a tree to greet us Christmas morning.  I expressed my concern to Jody, feeling certain that it was a pretty significant fire hazard.  I expected a dose of reassurance accompanied by a plan for what if.  What if the thing goes up in flames?  I expected to hear him coach me through grabbing a fire extinguisher (that he would of course run out and buy and mount by the tree for convenience) and putting out the flames while minimizing any damage and avoiding any injuries.  Instead I got a quick Don't ever turn the lights on again and if you do and it catches on fire, just open the back door and push it outside.  Easy enough.  Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without him.  

Just What I Need

Just what I need.  Another child obsessed with Angry Birds.  At 21 months old no less.  All I want for Christmas is my iPhone back.

Signs

A recent conversation with Jack...

Jack:  "Mama, I can read that sign right there."

Me:  "Really?  Read it for me."

Jack: " It says (with great emphasis and enthusiasm), No rolling in here!"

 Jack:  "Mama, I can read that sign too."

Me:  "Okay, go ahead."

Jack:  "It says, No cigaretting!"

Not only can he read, he can turn any word into a verb.  Talent.  Pure talent.

He Strikes Again

This entry is alternately titled  My Husband is an %&@.

How rude to use my oversized Santa against me.

It's just plain wrong.

There's nothing like rounding the corner to find this sitting on the toilet.

Sometimes

Sometimes Poppa lets him drive.

Sure, it's just down the dirt path to one of our pastures, but Will doesn't know that.  He just knows he's behind the wheel.  And I'll never tell.

These Two

Currently obsessed with Angry Birds.  It brings out the best and the worse in them.  Sharing sprinkled with a little fighting.  One wants a dog for Christmas.  The other wants a pig.  One is learning to read and wants to know how to spell everything.  The other is content with telling you that his name is spell "455."  My big, big boys.  My heart wrapped up into two handsome grins and big brown eyes. 

Disturbing

This disturbs me on so many levels.  My youngest tossed his obsession with bras to the side (evidence: the bright red bra on the floor) after one glimpse at a thong.  I'm thinking about banning him from Target for a few months as punishment.  

No Denying It

These two really love each other.  Even when he disses her for the older boys.  And in turn, gets a nice talkin' to from his Mama.  The truth is he's crazy about her.  And it shows itself in scattered hugs and little gifts. Everywhere we go, he insists on buying her things.  Most recently, a Grinch t-shirt and a Cinderella cell phone. Big boys around or not, there's no doubt that he really loves her very much.  And she's his best buddy.  His very patient buddy that puts up with him kicking her to the curb when the older boys are around.  Deep down she must know it.  She's his number one.  And there's no denying it.

21 Months

My sweet Will. 21 months old today.  Sadly due to the craziness of the last few weeks around here, I haven't taken a "real" picture of you recently (insert overwhelming Mama guilt here).  Thankfully, these iPhone pics are a true depiction of who you are today.  My little farm boy.

You are still obsessed with the barn, especially the chickens.  You chase them, corner them in the coop and stalk them until you can scoop one up in your arms.   It still drives me crazy and still delights you.  You run, squeal and laugh the whole time you are hanging out at the barn.  You love to gather eggs and fill your bucket with hay to feed the cows.  You are thrilled that we now have four new pigs at the barn too.  You are talking so much now and love to repeat what we say.  You say Mama at least 100 times a day and I love hearing your little voice call for me.  Your newest words are...more, boots, Daddy (no more Dada), more, tree, pie-pad (iPad), bed, ack (Jack), side (outside), eat, nnnaaack (snack), night-night, kitty, dog, tractor and miss muss (Christmas).  You have become more of a Daddy's boy at night, choosing to cuddle with him in his chair.  You love to wrestle with your brothers and have quite a little temper when you get mad.  Poppa is still your favorite person other than me and Daddy and more than once lately you've chosen Ally over me (sniff sniff).  You make us all laugh with your funny faces and silly dances and we enjoy every day with you.  You are sweet and love able and such a blessing to all of us.  I love you, Will.  More than you'll ever know.  

No Title Needed

(Jody swears he looks just like Poppa in this picture.  The mustache, of course, not the eyes.)

His First Best Friend

Early yesterday morning, Jody's Papa left his earthly home for a new home in paradise.  We are all so heartbroken, but so thankful that he is no longer in pain and his suffering has ended.  My heart aches for Marie and the entire family.  But for my precious Sam, my heart breaks.  You see, his Papa, his Du-Dolph, was his very first best friend.  Sam adored him and Papa loved my little boy in a sweet and special way that I will always remember and treasure.  Their bond was something to behold and I'm so thankful I had the opportunity to witness it.  We prepared Sam by telling him how sick Papa was and that he would soon be going to heaven.  Telling him that Papa was gone was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.  I thought he handled the news so well.  I was actually surprised by his reaction.  He was calm and appeared unaffected.  I got busy doing something for Will and turned back to see my sweet boy, face buried in the chair, sobbing.  I took him in my arms and held him  as he asked me why no one helped Papa when he stopped breathing.  I loved him and held him tight, wishing I could mend his broken heart.  I know only time will mend all of our hearts.  Especially for my Sam, who has lost one of the first real loves of his life.  His Papa.  His Du-Dolph.  His first best friend.