Since We've No Place to Go

I can blog about our Christmas adventures. Which mostly consisted of sitting around the house, napping, eating, and opening presents.

3-2-1-stockings!

 Can I eat this Santa? Please?

 Can I eat these puffs? Please?

 Pretty please?

 Loving on her new puppy, a gift from Daddy

 Loving on his new grill accessories, a gift from me

 Opening his first present. Ever.

 Whew, that was a lot of work!

 Present madness

 More present madness

 I think I have this present thing figured out now.

 I've had this present thing figured out for years.

 Look! Toys!

 Christmas loving.

One of the best parts of Christmas? Throwing out The Coat.

Obviously, a successful Christmas

John and I agreed it was our favorite Christmas so far. We didn't travel. I made a salad and pies to go with a baked potato bar dinner at the Blanchards' house. Everyone got lots of gifts they really liked, and we spent lots of time talking about Jesus.

* * *

So far, our post-Christmas plans have been somewhat altered by a little thing the 24-hour news cycle has nicknamed the "Brrrrrr-icane." We were going to get the kids up early and sneak off to the outlets first thing this morning. The route is interstate the whole way, it wasn't snowing that hard, and John is justifiably confident enough in his Canadian winter driving skills to brave driving. So, we got up well before 7 to reassess, confirm our plans, shower, and get the car. Of course, the rental car counter had decided to open late. Since John was leaving for a business trip this evening, we cancelled our annual outlet extravaganza. We didn't think we could comfortably make it up, shop, and get back in time for his flight. We planned a substitute city shopping itinerary instead.

Then, his business trip got cancelled. All of a sudden things were looking up again. John is really on vacation! (Although he's still closing two deals this week). We can go to the outlets after all! John went back to the rental car counter . . . only to find out that his driver's license expired 11 days ago. Apparently, we really were not supposed to go to the outlets today. Our substitute city shopping itinerary included a Macy's stop; John is currently headed to Macy's alone, which will allow him to tack on a trip to the nearby DMV. And our annual traditional outlet trip is tentatively rescheduled for tomorrow. We shall see.

Merry Christmas Nonna

The Barrett tradition of taking pictures of kids in pajamas hanging stockings is alive and well at the Prete house tonight.

Except for the fact that Hyrum forgot to hang his before he went to bed.

Luckily, Evelyn was around to make sure we didn't forget to leave extra cupcakes for Santa. And carrots for the reindeer, of course.

Look, Mommy, Santa is celebrating Jesus's birthday!

Yesterday, we went to see Santa for our first and only time this year. My review of Bloomingdales' Santa? Santa himself = two thumbs up; he was very good with the children. The decor, etc = not so much. Since it took us approximately six minutes to make it from the door of our apartment to the very short line, I'm pretty sure we'll be repeat customers.

Apparently, our trip to Santa worked because we came home to a package from Aunt Cindi. Some things in the package were wrapped and went under the tree to be opened on Christmas morning. Others, not so much.

Evelyn hasn't stopped playing with Polly Pocket since. I see stretching before me a long love/hate relationship with Polly, who has shoes so small they might actually be too tiny to constitute a choking hazard.

Hyrum loved his crib quilt (and his tongue; he's very into his tongue these days).

The only thing he loved more was the idea of tearing into the mint M&Ms. Good luck with that, little buddy.



Family Christmas card pictures

We procrastinated taking our family Christmas card picture. So, last weekend, we asked John's parents to take a few snapshots of us in front of the Christmas tree. Unfortunately, the best smiles we got were the ones in the test shots I took before family snapshot fun began in earnest.

I've learned my lesson. Outdoor family pictures in summer or fall are officially on the agenda for next year.

Grandma

John's parents and sister came to visit, and I only took about two pictures of Grandma with Evelyn. They forgot their camera; I did a terrible job of compensating.

Luckily, aunt Sarah is getting married in less than two months, so we'll be back with everyone looking dapper all together before too long.

In any case, we had a great visit. Come back soon!

Retelling the Christmas Story

You've heard of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?

"It's the angel Gabriel. Hello! And a monster. No, he says. No, the angel Gabriel says there are NO MONSTERS in Bethlehem!"

We've got The Little Town of Bethlehem + Monsters. I doubt any family has ever gotten more use out of a paper advent calendar than ours has given us this year.

Only in New York

I'm pretty sure the administrators at Evelyn's school think I am mentally unstable.

Today, I showed up for drop off (9:00) and pickup (12:00) wearing Hello Kitty pajama pants. I was also wearing a 12-year-old red ski coat that was never attractive, even when new. I've been sporting this beauty since the weather turned chilly because my coat broke at the end of last winter. In theory, I could just buy a new one, right? But instead I turned the coat issue into an opportunity to prove to my husband that---NO MATTER WHAT---I could stick within my clothing allowance for the year. Two weeks ago, he didn't have early meetings so we arrived at church together. "Hurry! Take your coat off," he pleaded as I was still walking through the front door, We're going to dinner with his office and four of the nine partners of his firm tonight. I'm pretty sure he's told me to show up 15 minutes before anyone else is planning on being there so that no one else will see me in The Coat.

If we lived in the suburbs, no one would see my ugly coat or my Hello Kitty pants. I could cleverly hide them behind the wheel of my minivan. Instead, I have the privilege of being the worst-dressed person on the sidewalk, dodging suits with a stroller and a scooter during morning rush hour in midtown Manhattan.

There are, however, offsetting advantages.

I got home from picking Evelyn up at 12:27 today and saw a text from John saying he wanted to do lunch at 1:00 for his birthday. I managed to
-feed Hyrum
-get dressed
-get both Evelyn and Hyrum back into sweaters, coats, hats and shoes
-load the stroller (two kids, a wrapped birthday present I had cleverly "hidden" under the Christmas tree, my wallet, my phone, Evelyn's water cup, Evelyn's snow globe and stuffed kitten, Hyrum's puffs)
-travel to the bakery
-buy an enormous cupcake
-travel to the restaurant
-unload both kids from coats, sweaters, hats, and the stroller
-and sit down at the table
all by 1:03. Only in New York.

Happy birthday, honey, and love from your poorly dressed but efficient wife, your two children, and the city of New York.

Keeping it real

It snowed last night, and for the first time this season, a dusting stuck around. So, if I were a good mommy blogger, I would have some cute story about baby's first snow and how my son and I spent precious time together introducing him to the cold white stuff.

Instead, I am going to tell you how I really spent my morning.

This story begins a few days ago, when I noticed a slightly off smell in the laundry closet. (A whole 1/3 of a closet for laundry! I know! Try not to be jealous!) If I hadn't spent every waking moment of the past week running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I probably would have investigated. Instead, I assumed cleaning rags + burp cloths saturated with formula-fed baby spitup were the culprits. I'm going to need to start soaking that stuff, I thought.

Fast forward to this morning. I rolled out of bed on four hours of sleep and cracked my eyes open just enough to make it downstairs with three big buckets of laundry. I presort and pretreat the laundry as I throw it in the hampers during the week, so I unceremoniously dumped the loads into the right machines and started them off, then stumbled back upstairs.

A little later, I went back down to switch the loads to the dryer. I switched the coloreds and darks without incident. As I was pulling the whites out of the machine, though, I noticed that they still smelled slightly funky. Not terrible, but definitely not normal. Then, I saw something that really brought together everything I had noticed over the prior few days.

Much to my chagrin, Evelyn remains only mostly potty trained. She still uses diapers every few days to take care of her business. When she's done, I usually give them to her to dispose of in the (covered) "big trash can." Somehow, two of these diapers had ended up in the white laundry hamper instead.

The sad thing is, instead of being completely and utterly disgusted (which was John's appropriate reaction), I was actually a little relieved, in a grossed out way, to know that the funky smelling laundry is not likely to be a chronic problem going forward. I carefully went through the load, disposed of what should have been thrown away days ago, then put the clothes back in on a super cycle, hot wash, with bleach.

So, if you had a bad morning, just think, it probably could have been worse. And as far as baby's first snow goes, it wouldn't have made a very interesting post. Hyrum was more focused on his feet than on our terrace's light dusting.

December fun

Last Sunday, I half threw a half-birthday half-Christmas party. It was 6 months to the day after Hyrum's due date, and since he and his friend Jack were due on the same day (although born 1 week apart), it seemed appropriate to honor the fact that, together, they are one year old!

As far as the half-threw part goes, I mean that I agreed to buy a premade Costco birthday cake and tell my doorman to let the visitors up and Jack's mom Melissa did everything else (invitation, food, drinks, etc). At the last minute, I also drummed up a couple pictures of the boys in tinier days, bringing my contribution to just shy of 5% of the total work and expense involved.

In any case, the half-guests of honor seemed to enjoy the evening. Jack had much more impressive cake-eating skills than Hyrum. I looked forward to this moment the most because Evelyn had put on such a show back when it was her turn. Hyrum disappointed, managing a half-hearted lick of the bowl at one point and never really getting any cake into his own mouth. Thank goodness Jack was a little fiestier.

All in all, a successful evening.

Cinderella

John and I came back from taking tree trash to the garbage room earlier today and found this:

Cinderella herself! Cleaning up pine needles of her own accord.

"I'm cleaning. I have to clean this up so the doorman doesn't get mad. It makes the doorman so mad. Look at this mess! He gets really mad, so I have to clean it up."

I'm so glad when Daddy comes home

I was a rock-star mom this week, even if I do say so myself. (Monday: Winter's Eve festival at Lincoln Square/Columbus Circle; Wednesday: the Nutcracker at the World Financial Center; Thursday: gingerbread train decorating, train display at Grand Central, the Lionel train store, and a quick snack stop at the Pop-Tarts store; Friday: hand-pulled noodles in Chinatown and the Christmas tree at the Met

But there's just something about Daddy.

Especially when you get to set up the Christmas tree

and decorate a gingerbread house together.

Come on, Dad, I'm no novice. I already did an awesome train this week. Look. This is how you do it.

Can't figure out how to get to the Little Town of Bethlehem? Not a problem. The key is to live close to the train.

John has this magic sort of quality when it comes to the kids. For example, over the summer, Evelyn was no longer napping and Hyrum's naps averaged 30 minutes if I was lucky. But if John put them down? Two hours each. In fact, one time, he came home from work over lunch so I could take my mom out for her birthday. I put both of them down before he got here. They didn't even know he was in the house. All he did was sit outside their doors, and they still slept great. Anyway, he's special. (Or just so boring that they feel forced to sleep or entertain each other.)

Finally, it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas around here.