8 minutes to locate snow clothes
23 minutes to wrestle children into snow clothes

2 minutes to pose for pictures

3 minutes for E to stand frozen in snow bank

4 minutes for E to attempt to escape gloves

1 minute for E to realize it's warmer inside

30 minutes for G-bean to play in winter wonderland and end up at neighbors for hot chocolate
90 minutes of shoveling for Dad to wish Santa brought a snow blower

**building an indoor snowman and making apple juice slushies with rosy cheeked E

PRICELESS

Naughty or Nice

Time for the yearly check in with the man in the big red suit. This year, G-bean fearlessly marched up to Santa and placed her order. E on the other hand eyed him like a wolf in sheep's clothing. She wasn't fooled by the synthetic beard or covert ear piece revealing each child's Christmas wish. Instead she took her complimentary candy cane and stood watch in case G-bean needed back up.

It's a yearly tradition to visit Santa and light R's parents neighborhood Christmas tree. It snowed just in time for the evening's festivities. Out came the snow suits and pink cheeks. It was truly magical. E finally understood what the snow craze is all about. She kept saying "I bite snow." We have yet to indoctrinate her on the various shades and quality...Fortunately she was working with a fresh batch. As for G-bean, she could not have been more content with her cousin Stella, glazed donut & hot cocoa.

By the way, the random little boy in our family picture kept pelting me with snowballs. I guess I'm an easy target these days--big, slow moving, hard to miss. Doesn't he know not to mess with a Mama bear, especially when she's with her young.

Rodeo Queens

Thanksgiving break brought free days, good weather & little people with energy to burn. With my fellow belly in crime, Joni and I packed up the girls and headed to Maja's house. We spent a magical morning feeding animals (both 2 & 4 legged), giving riding lessons, and leading horses around in circles. The girls were in heaven as were the horses with their excessive treats. Adorned with rhinestone hats & cowboy boots, the girls transformed into true rodeo queens. Jack supervised the whole operation as the proud watch dog and master of ceremonies. As we rode off into the sunset at the end of the day, everyone was tired, happy and stinky. Mission accomplished!

Don't Look Down

"Whatever you do, don't look down." Advice usually spoken to a person standing on a precipice. Well people, I am teetering on the edge of change (aka baby number 3). And those words of wisdom have yet to help me. For the last 7 months, I have done exactly that... not looked down. I focused on more pressing matters and paid little attention to my ever changing figure. Mad cravings and cankles were given little thought...perhaps a weird side effect from bad Indian food.

Problem #1: All the realizations that a person would normally have experienced in the beginning of pregnancy are hitting me NOW. So with less than 3 months to go, I feel like I just had a date with my EPT and must prepare for the aftermath. All I can say is holy bananas! What am I going to do with 3 little people?! My sanity is already in question. The midgets will have me surrounded! Our man on man defense is shot. What do I do when they all decide to mutiny and run in different directions? Are kid leashes still kosher? What do you do with a newborn? I think I have blocked it all out for a reason. We've come so far with the first 2 kiddos. We can go to the movies and talk politics. Who pressed the reset button?

Problem #2: I am having delusions! First, I do not recognize my own body. I feel like a science project in paneled pants. I could charge admission. When reflecting on my pre-baby bod, I fancy myself to have looked quite a bit like Heidi Klum. Please say nothing! Remember, I'm delusional. Now I feel like someone photo-shopped my head onto Roseanne Barr's fuller figure. To top it off, I fantasize about working out. Right now just putting on socks is exhausting. My poor lungs are out of real estate and I am constantly out of breath. I sound like an obscene caller all the time. I dream of doing sit ups and laying on my stomach. I haven't been able to locate my ribs for quite some time. I long for rigorous bike rides and long runs. HA- where were those desires 7 months ago? When I am not cursing at skinny runners, I am marveling at their agility due to the fact I no longer walk, I lumber.

Solution to Problems 1 & 2: Accept my reality and embrace the look of a wild-eyed mad woman. I hear that comes with 3 kids. I think I would have preferred a complimentary toaster for all my trouble, but what are you going to do.

Halloween Spooktacular

The best day of the year and I practically missed it. In the hustle and bustle of life, I did not devote the proper time & creativity required by this spooktacular holiday. The kids were without costumes, the mom had drained the candy supply, the dad was preoccupied packing boxes and all was not in order for Halloween. My last ditch efforts at a costume for G-bean had failed miserably. Some even made her cry. She was close to cancelling Halloween all together and was in jeopardy of never smiling again. Okay so that last part was a little dramatic, but she did threaten not to trick or treat. GASP! Fortunately, E was oblivious to the drama and had lower expectations of this haunting occasion. Her only demand..."More candy mom." Alas, had I ruined the best day of the year for my children?!

No! By some miracle, it all came together. We even managed to pull off our annual chili party the night of Halloween. We had a house full of family dressed as all walks of life eating off of paper goods and dining atop cardboard boxes. The dry ice was floating and the root beer was flowing. E was double-fisted all night with long neck root beer. I daresay that little lady bug was seeing spots and could not fly a straight line by the end of the night. As for our Rapunzel, she made a full recovery. The only thing that could have topped her delight was if Prince Charming were to show up and ask her to let her hair down. And then there's the parents, don't they looked haggard?! They were. We did not dress up...SHOCKER! If anything, we were dressed as survivors. Hopefully next year we will get our act together, so that we won't get voted off the island.

Details, Details

Some people say that it's all in the details. Or is it?

In anticipation of our move, we have abandoned conventional living. We have decided to live in a maze of cardboard boxes. We forage for our needs of matching shoes & a clean towels and forgo our wants of furniture to sit on & home cooked meals. The girls have deserted their toys and created their own little shanty town out of storage containers. We are up to our eyeballs in STUFF! It's a danger zone. I have toyed with the idea of handing out avalanche beacons 'just in case'.

I do have a point. It is this. In an effort to be a more organized version of myself, I have tried to pay the utmost attention to every detail. No clutter or excess will enter our next abode. I have sorted, cleaned, mended, and thrown out years of material baggage (aka crap). For heaven sakes, I sterilized the bath toys. Alas, some details have escaped me. I tucked G-bean in the other night with her shoes on. I somehow overlooked the fact that E was playing Picasso with a sharpie on her white dresser. I discovered all to late that G-bean had unwound a full roll of toilet paper needing a telescope for her highseas adventure in a box. I found the phone in the fridge. I have thrown the toothbrush in the sink and spit in the drawer. And it was brought to my attention that 5 out of 7 days this week, my underwear has been on inside out or backwards. Hmmmmm...

Is it really all in the details or just the important ones...like survival.