Packing up

One of Isabel's goals for Christmas vacation was to clean and organize her room, making space for her new birthday/Christmas gifts and clearing the shelves of stuff she didn't play with any longer.

Her collections of Littlest Pet Shop and Barbies were on the top of the "too babyish" list.

Yesterday, we spent hours packing and sorting and saving the favorites.

We laughed and reminisced about all the many hours we spent playing Barbies together.

I managed to make it through without shedding one single tear.

It's bittersweet, these milestones.

I remember doing the same thing when I was eleven.  Feeling too old to play with "kid" toys, though not yet old enough for the teen stuff I wanted to be a part of.

And so it begins with my own daughter.

Have there been any milestones that you had a hard time with?

A Christmas Message

My sister emailed this to me, and it speaks volumes about what Christmas (and life) is all about.  Take a few minutes and read it...it's worth your time.

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, 'Hi.' He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment.  I looked around and saw the source of his merriment. It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.  We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. 'Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster,' the man said to Erik.  My husband and I exchanged looks, 'What do we do?'  Erik continued to laugh and answer, 'Hi.'  Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, 'Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek- a-boo.'  Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk.  My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.  We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. 'Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik,' I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's 'pick-me-up' position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man.  Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder. The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time.  I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, 'You take care of this baby.'  Somehow I managed, 'I will,' from a throat that contained a stone.  He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, 'God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift.'  I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, 'My God, my God, forgive me.'  I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking, 'Are you willing to share your son for a moment?' when He shared His for all eternity.  The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, 'To enter the Kingdom of God , we must become as little children.'  If this has blessed you, please bless others by sending it on. Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us of what is really important. Remember who we are, where we came from and, most importantly, how we feel about others. The clothes on our back or the car that we drive or the house that we live in does not define us at all;

it is how you treat your fellow man
that identifies who you are..

Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year,

to all my sweet friends and family!

See you in 2011!

Virtual Cookie Exchange

Since we can't manage to get together in real life, a group of blogger of friends and I decided to have a virtual cookie exchange to celebrate the holidays.  Mep, Erin, and Cara are sharing a new or favorite recipe today...hop on over and pay them a visit!  I hear they may even have some spiked eggnog to share :)

I couldn't decide between my favorite:  chex mix with extra butter and tobasco and worchestershire (seriously, how DO you pronounce that, anyway?)

Or a new recipe for Nutmeg sticks that I found at LoveFeastTable...

But after these cake pops were such a hit at Isabel's party, I decided to share this not very easy recipe for any of you brave enough to try it :)

First, a disclaimer:  our cake pops were not the gorgeous creations that you may have seen on other blogs or in the new Cake Pops book recently published.  However, they tasted delicious, and were well worth the trouble!

You start with a box of chocolate cake mix (I used Duncan Hines' Dark Chocolate Fudge, with a bit of sour cream mixed in before baking).  Bake the cake in a 9x13 pan according to the directions on the box.

Allow the cake to cool completely, then crumble in a large bowl.  The pieces need to be finely crumbled (I did it with a fork and knife).

Make cream cheese frosting in a separate bowl:  I used an 8 oz block of cream cheese, 1 tsp vanilla, 1 Tblsp Heavy cream and 3 to 4 cups powdered sugar.

Mix frosting a bit at a time into the cake crumbles.  It took about a cup and a half to get mine to be a playdoh consistency.  Get ready to get your hands dirty, and make 1 1/2" balls of the mixture.

On a sheet of wax paper over a large plate/container, place the cake balls and poke a lollipop stick or popsicle stick in the center, like this:

 Cover the container with foil or plastic wrap, and freeze overnight.

For one box of cake mix, it took three bags of these to make the white candy coating:

Melt the chocolates in the microwave for a little over a minute, stirring often.  (We added food coloring before dipping our cake pops).

Employ at least one or two helpers to dip and sprinkle the pops, placing back on the wax paper to set.

The coating took about two minutes or so to set, and the cake pops were ready to eat within an hour.  They weren't as pretty as I had envisioned, but wow, were they good!

These were for Isabel's birthday, but you could leave the coating white and use red/green sprinkles for a lovely Christmas treat!

Don't forget to visit my other friends for their cookie ideas!

I remember when I was eleven...

It's a very strange feeling when your kids get to be an age that you yourself remember being...

I distinctly remember when I was eleven.  The drama, the friends, the hormones, the (ahem) growing pains.

Today, the baby girl we welcomed into the world at the time of Y2K (remember that one?) is eleven years old.

Isabel grows more beautiful every day, and she does not yet suffer from the preteen angst that I recall from my youth.  (I did say "yet").  Look at how cute she was, just ten years ago:

Check out those mad scrapbooking skills...oh, my word.

Having a birthday so close to Christmas might be a challenge for some kids, but Isabel has taken it in stride.  She has a great family and lots of friends who make every effort to separate her special day from Jesus' special day.

This past weekend, we celebrated with her choice of a party:  at the local dive, I mean, skating rink.  There were rented skates, skinny jeans, and fashionable hairstyles.

And yes, they still do the Hokey-Pokey.

We had Cake Pops (check back tomorrow for the recipe).

And a special Raspberry Bismarck cupcake for the birthday girl herself.

She didn't even mind that the moms skated, too!

I love that Joe joined in on the fun, and even her brothers!

Since today is her actual birthday, we are celebrating yet again, with family gifts and dinner at the place of her choice (she's thinking Olive Garden).  I'm looking forward to another great year with this amazing daughter of mine!

See Gabe...

Read.

Read, Gabe, read!

Here he is, showing off his skillz to Aunt Chelle on Thanksgiving, reading her a book he made in kindergarten.

If you were a reader of my blog two years ago, when Gabe started preschool, you would understand my delight in the arrival of this day.  I didn't think this baby of mine would ever sit still long enough to learn his ABC's, much less put it all together and be able to read a whole book.

Thank God for answered prayers (and patient kindergarten teachers!).

Christmas spirit

Some people dread it, some people boycott it, but I love this part of Christmas.

I started making my cards in September, a few each day.  These were a few of my favorites.  I hope everyone who receives a card from me knows how much love and time goes into each and every one...

Decking our halls was so much fun this year.  Gabe was actually a big help, and so excited about each decoration, with his own particular ideas of where to put things.  I love his enthusiasm!

We found the "perfect" tree and trimmed it with ornaments old and new, and lots of colored lights.  Still don't have a good pic of the tree post-decor...

Ahh, the nightmare of the gingerbread house (this year, a whole village!).  It always sounds like a good idea, but the amount of frustration and tears (Gabe's, not mine) are NOT worth the trouble.  Someday, I will learn my lesson.

Today, I decided to forgo a decent day's sleep and took Gabe to his kindergarten's "Winter Wonderland".  It was SO worth it...according to him, it was "the best day EVER!".

Gabe and his awesome teacher!

He giggled the whole time he got his face painted.

So far, many good memories have been made...and we're only halfway through the month.  Loving this Christmas season!

Heavy heart

Back in 2005, my family lost three men in one year.

My grandpa died in June, to dementia and kidney failure.

My dad died in August, to lung cancer.

Joe's grandpa died in October, to emphysema and pneumonia.

My kids lost three grandpas in four short months.

The only one left is Bob.  Joe's dad.  My father-in-law.  Kay's husband.  The kids' Papaw.

For the past several years, he has suffered from high blood pressure, heart issues and a whopping case of denial.

In this past month, all of these issues came to a head.  Bob was hospitalized for congestive heart failure, atrial fibrillation and renal insufficiency.  After a week, he was improved enough to go home, but not healed altogether.

Last Friday, we found out that he needs open heart surgery to bypass the three blocked vessels (yes, you only have three main coronary arteries, and all three of his are nearly completely blocked with plaque).

Next Wednesday, he will go into the operating room at the hospital where I work.  An excellent cardiothoracic surgeon will stop his heart, repair the problem, and restart it.

When I think of it from my "nurse mode", it is all very routine and not scary in the least.

When I think of it from "family member mode", I think of the many things that could go wrong and I get choked up just thinking of losing this man.  I know in my heart that Bob's heart is in God's hands.  I know that He has a plan.  I just want to know that the plan doesn't leave my kids without their Papaw.

Would you please keep our family in your prayers this week, and specifically next Wednesday?  Thank you so much, sweet friends.