Merry Christmas ... a few days late

Merry Christmas! I hope that your holiday was filled with loving moments and fond memories. You'll have to excuse me for not sending out cards this year; time got away from me, and since we didn't have much to report about the year (I mean, aside from the pregnancy), I just thought I'd skip the cards this year. Besides.... there will be baby announcements in a couple of months...

Since we spent Thanksgiving with my family, we shared Christmas with Scott's. And oh what a Christmas it was! There were plenty of loving moments and fond memories were definitely made (and some not-so-fond ones, too). Our 20-month-old niece Kate certainly kept us busy and laughing; she is one smart little girl. Her vocabulary is rather impressive, too. (Though I'm sure this isn't the case, at one point I was confident Kate said "cadaver" and "harpoon". Of course, why would she know such words? Still, it's amusing to think that's what she said.) Scott teases that Kate's going to know him as "mean old Uncle Scott" since he kept her from having her own way not once, but twice. The first time he caught her climbing upstairs to see Grandma, who was in bed resting. Scottt promptly snagged her from the steps and then blocked them with a gate; to hear Kate cry, though, you'd have thought Scott had done something horrible to her! Then, the next day, Scott blocked her in the family room while Grandma was on the phone in the kitchen. Again, it was just temporary, but boy, Kate did not like it! (Evidence of Kate's smarts: After Scott blocked her in, I sat with her on the floor to look at a book, which quieted her down. Scott remained in the doorway, though. As soon as he moved, Kate popped up off the floor and dashed toward the kitchen. She's a clever one!)

The not-so-fond moments included Mel (Grandma) and Scott both getting the stomach virus. Poor Mel was sick on Christmas day, so she spent most of her time resting. Thankfully, she was rested enough to join everyone for opening our stockings. Scott got sick two days later (Saturday). The tragedy in that? He didn't get to meet his newest niece, Mila Taylor.

Which brings me back to fond memories; my sister-in-law, Dib, gave birth to a 7 lb 15 oz baby girl named Mila Taylor on Friday. The next day, Roger, Mel, Kate, and I went to the hospital to meet the newest family member. Roger and Mel sent Kate intot he room first so that she could have a few moments with just her parents and sister. Every few seconds, Kate would pop out the door to see us, a bright smile and sparkling eyes lighting up her face. You could tell that she was excited about "baby sister". Once we were in the room, we were witness to Kate's attempts at loving on her sister. She kept asking to hold her ("come up") while tugging on Mila's blanket. Then she'd pat Mila on the head. Boy, will Dib and Erik have their hands full trying to keep Kate from loving too much on her sister!

Here are a few photos from the holiday. Enjoy! This was taken Christmas Eve, just two days before Mila was born. Poor Dib was about ready to pop!

Of course Scott and Erik had to compare their "pregnant" bellies, too.

Mmmmmm.... sugar cookies. Looks like decorating Christmas cookies has become a tradition when we're up in NY. Scott reaped the benefits; homemade cookies with lots of icing.

Great Grandma Teddy with Kate. One of Kate's rare still moments (though I managed to capture a couple of them on camera).Caught'ya! Kate sneaks a few chips while we finish laying out the dinner spread Christmas Eve.

Kate and Papa on Christmas Day. That orange was one of many that Kate confiscated that morning; she seemed to enjoy those more than some of her toys!

Grandma and Kate on the phone with Erik (Daddy) as he calls with news of Mila's arrival.

Erik and his girls: Mila, Kate, and Dib.

Introducing Mila Taylor.

Here's Santa!

Here's the elusive mystery man himself... Santa! He had to come out of hiding for this shot, but you'll be happy to know that he's now safely hidden from paparazzi... and my husband.

Candy Cravings?

Chocolate? Caramels? Lollipops? Skittles? Snickers? Jolly Ranchers?

Uh, negative (though I do still enjoy my chocolate on a regular basis). I'm talking about Tums. Oh yes, the antacid. Lately, I've been popping 'em like candy. And for the most part, they are much more satisfying than any chocolatey goodness out there.

After all, can a Milky Way soothe my aching esophagus? Can a Dove bar tame the indigestion that flares up regularly? As much as I wish they could, they don't.

So my hero, my candy craving at the moment, is Tums. That berry-flavored chalk that leaves a film on my hands and an after-taste in my mouth. That sweet relief that must be accompanied by several gulps of water. That two-tablet magic "candy" that erects a barrier between my stomach and my esophagus.

Mmmmmm, Tums.

Tradition

Ahhh, Christmas. A time for traditions new and old. For the past few years, our tradition has been spending the holiday with Scott's family in New York. Thus, we haven't exactly established too many traditions pertinent to just us... except one: the little man on the tree.

Okay, so this tradition actually traces back to Scott's growing up years, but it has definitely become part of our holiday tradition, too.

See, Scott made a Santa (or as he calls it, "the little man") when he was a kid. And by golly, he is certainly proud of his handiwork. So proud, in fact, that this Santa occupies a position of honor on our tree. No, not the topper, even better. Front and center. Not to the side, not down low. Front and Center. As in, you can't help but notice him.

Like most men I know, Scott's not really into decorating for the holidays (though he does help with the tree). As I sat unpacking our ornaments, the sound of Christmas music accompanied my husband's persistent inquiry ("Where's my guy? Babe, where's my guy?"). As far as he was concerned, that was the ONLY ornament he had to hang. In fact, he figured he'd be done decorating once Santa found his place on our tree. (But knowing what Scott was thinking, I didn't unpack his "guy" until the end.)

But our tradition doesn't end there. I mean, what would be the fun in that? No, now I have a role in this tradition, too. Periodically, Santa "mysteriously" moves. He likes to take a break from the spotlight, so he finds another less obvious, less demanding spot on the tree. Often, he likes to face a corner or wall. (Maybe he doesn't feel the pressure so much there.) But alas, his respite is often short-lived. For Scott, upon noticing that his "guy" is missing, will send out a search and rescue team to locate Santa and restore him to his rightful place on our tree.

Ahhhh... but Santa has ways of sneaking away again...

Thanksgiving

We spent Thanksgiving here in VA with my side of the family, as well as our "extended" family. Total there were probably about 20 people or so in attendance.

We've (my family) been spending this holiday with the Allen family since I was in high school, and so I couldn't help but notice how the dynamics have changed over the years. During those years, dinner consisted of the adults (both sets of parents and occasionally some additional adult friends) and the "kids" (more like the teens and pre-teens). After dinner we'd play Tripoley or watch football (translation: the women played Tripoley while the men watched the game). Then we'd drift around to having a dessert or two before finally heading home.

Nowadays the time frame is pretty much the same, but the cast has changed. My sisters and their families spent the holiday with their in-laws, so we didn't get to see them. We've also included a few more people (like Jill and Rob, whose families are out of state; Milon, Jessica, and Megan, Katie's in-laws; and Phil and his family). My cousin Mike, his wife Megan, and their son Ben also joined us this year since they couldn't head home to CA or WA for the holiday. The adults now officially out number the kids, but the number of little ones is slowly increasing.

Watching the little ones (Mabel, Weston, Max, and Ben) brought a smile to my face; to think that this tradition started so many years ago, and here we are continuing it with our own families and children.

I love this holiday.
Sarah with Max; he LOVES those glasses. Seriously!

Weston kept hiding from me under this hat; luckily, my camera finger was quicker!

Mabel hid under the table with the apple cart while we women gabbed and enjoyed dessert.
You have no idea how many pictures we had to take to try and get a decent one of my husband.
Katie, Me, and SarahBelly picture! Katie is one of my many friends who is also pregnant. Here our little ones "high-five" each other in utero (or at least we think they are).
Belly picture #2: Scott and Nevin... uh, no comment.

For my Bible Study gals...

You (my BS gals) knew it was coming; it was just a matter of time. And since Amelia actually checked the blog on her own accord to see if "it" had arrived yet, well, I figured that was a sign that "its" time had come.

What am I talking about? "It" was the source of many giggles and much delay at our last Bible study. "It" is not something discussed in polite company (and certainly not during a Bible study). "It" is .... gas. No, not like fuel for our cars; I'm talking about the gas that percolates in your stomach on occasion and then has to go somewhere.

So, we had finally gotten down to business (or so we thought), when Alison directed our attention to the lion symbol in our guide. At this point, Amelia "roared"; unfortunately, Alison thought that Amelia had burped, so she (Ali) started giggling. From there, our conversation went downhill. Amelia admitted that she could burp on command, and even demonstrated this skill for us. Rachel seemed quite impressed, so much so, that she asked for tips on how to do so. (Now that will impress her hubby!) Of course, she also confessed her fear that at this point in time sucking in air to expel as a burp might backfire... literally. (For some reason, we pregnant women have a tendency for flatulence... at the most INOPPORTUNE moments. I just keep hoping it doesn't happen when I'm walking down the rows of my classroom!)

Anyway.... I don't have the precise directions for how to burp on command (Amelia, looks like you'll need to send those my way), so these will have to suffice.

1. Suck down some air, filling your stomach to capacity.
2. Use your diaphragm to expel that air up and out.
3. Repeat for others' enjoyment.

Sleepless nights

Looks like Leah is preparing both me and Scott for her arrival in a few months. I haven't been sleeping well lately (already!), and well, Leah apparently thinks it's unfair for Scott to rest while I'm not, so she woke him up the other night. Seriously.

Saturday morning Scott informed me that he woke up during the night because his daughter kept kicking him. I thought he meant that I had kicked him, but no, he really did mean Leah. At one point while we were sleeping, his hand was across my belly, thus serving as a sort of target for Leah Jordan. Sure enough, she kept kicking away at his arm, eventually waking him from his usual restful slumber. Guess she wanted him to experience a bit of what I'm experiencing on a regular basis.

Pouting

If only pouting would make the undesirable disappear. Like Mondays.

Today felt like a great day to pout. Not because of anything that happened, but just because it's the Monday after a holiday and I really didn't feel like going to work.

Picture a grown (and pregnant) woman sitting in bed, arms crossed and a mean pouty lip plastered across her face. Then she drags herself to the bathroom to get ready for the day, all the while begrudging the fact that a new day has come. Somehow she makes it to work, but as the time draws near for students to enter her domain, she wants to ball up her fists, scrunch up her face, stamp her feet, and well, pout. But I don't wanna teach today. Anh.

Of course, pouting gets us (more specifically, me) nowhere. I still had to teach. I still had to face the day and accept my responsibilities. But, boy did it feel good to visualize a pout session.