As the month progresses, I am jotting down some blurbs to be published in January...
*Glory hallelujah! Costco tortillas now come in resealable packages!
*The kids ever-changing Christmas lists have kept me in stitches. Joshua has asked for a big bike with a kickstand, a DS (I asked him what a DS was and he didn't even know), and his own real tools. EmJ has asked for a new computer for Luke and I (Luke's was crashed for a while, so he took mine to school, severely limiting EmJ's ablility to watch Taylor Swift videos on YouTube), and a desk (which we would put where?). Benjamin wants cookie cutters and a "candy cane like a wrench."
*The other day in the car, Luke asked the kids each in turn if they wanted a brother or a sister and what they wanted to name it...Benjamin said he wanted a sister named Kyree (?), Joshua wants a brother named Ewan (???), Emmeline wants a sister named Lucy, and Samantha wants a kitty named Kitty (not a joke, no prompting!)
*We have taken to calling the unborn "Trey"...as in uno, dos, tres...because whether boy or girl it will be the third. I don't know why "Five" or "Seven" didn't make the cut, so "Trey" it will be. However, when we tried to go all Utah and invent a name using "Trey", we hit a wall. Treyson, Treylee, Chantrey, McTrey, Treyton, Treylyn...nope. Despite all the angst involved in choosing a name, it's about the only thing that distracts me from the misery of pregnancy.
*During the month of December, I got my first, "I'm never talking to you again!" from one of my children. That's got to be some rite of passage as a parent, right? I've finally changed rank...Oh, and there is a note on Emmeline's door that says, "Do not enter! And I mean it!"
*I just noticed today that Luke has cleaned off a section of bookshelf. He would never admit it, but I'm pretty sure he's preparing for all of the books he hopes to get for Christmas. Too bad I got him socks.
*While at Fred Meyer with Sam the other day, she found a very life-like rubber frog. She started hopping with it all around the store, yelling, "wibbIT! wibbIT! wibbIT!" If you're Sam, you can't just say the animal sound--you have to hop, or gallop, or flap your arms, or meow as if you're being sprayed repeatedly by a hose.
*On a bunch of blogs the last couple of days, I've seen pictures of kids with Santa. What good moms you all are! We didn't pay Santa a visit this year. Instead, the kids shouted their wish lists up the chimney (a tradition that I read about from....um...somewhere in Europe?) I thought it was very fun, and much easier than trying to wrangle all the kids at the mall! I'm sure the neighbors were wondering what was going on at our house.