Tonight I went somewhere I hope I never have to go to again: a memorial service for a 20 year old who took his life on Christmas Eve. I never met Nick, but I play tennis regularly with his mother, who is a wonderfully lovely woman. She's also the yoga instructor I go to when I manage to make it to a yoga class. She also had a small business selling tennis clothes, which she just liquidated this past summer, and she is always so amazingly generous with helping us as customers, letting us take clothes home to try on so that we aren't putting them on while we're dripping with sweat at the club. So when I heard the news about her son, my heart just about bled for her. And I'll admit, one of my first reactions was some anger that anyone would make her hurt in this way, particularly at Christmas, with a pain that will stab hard again every year at this time.

The memorial service was both heart-wrenching and inspiring in many ways. There were probably 300 people there, and at least half of them were friends of his. He had a ton of friends, friends who clearly loved him very much. The slide show playing before the service and the pictures that were everywhere through the funeral home spoke of a little boy who was deeply loved by his parents and siblings and who was surrounded by people who cared about him. I don't think there was a dry eye in the place as his "crew" of friends (just like my dh's in high school) came up one by one to tell a (clean) story about him. Clearly he was quite a character and kept his parents on his toes--full of mischief and just fun to be around. Over and over I heard person after person from all over his life, from the headmaster of the school he attended in middle and high school to his neighborhood and college friends to his own family saying that he had an incredible laugh and was kind and generous to an extreme. I kept thinking that I hoped that these would be the kinds of things that people might all say about my own children when they are his age.

Even though I didn't know him, my reaction came deeply from being a parent myself. And what struck me so deeply was that I have no idea what made him feel that he had no other way to find peace, but no matter how "mischievous" a child might be, no matter how many sleepless nights he might bring his parents, hundreds of hurting people sitting there tonight were a loud, strong testament that parents, siblings, family, friends--they are resolutely and absolutely not better off without this person here with them. And it also brought home to me that the kids who stand out, for whatever reason, whether it's because they find all kinds of mischievous trouble or have the zany ideas or are always thinking of others and perhaps not covering their own ass--they're the ones that we all remember and just love. It made me reaffirm that no matter what my kids do, no matter how "difficult" their teen years might be, no matter how much they may end up standing out in whatever way, they are still deeply, wildly loved and I hope that they will constantly know that. Judy, Tony, and the rest of their family were such manifestations of that kind of love.

My resolution after tonight is that I know it isn't entirely realistic, but I want to live with my children in a way that I would have no regrets. If, God forbid, their lives were cut short for some reason, I want to feel like I have given my best with them and have been kind and forgiving and loving. I want to always see them as the gift that they are, perhaps as an imperfect gift, as a gift that will surely give me many more sleepless nights and worries and trials, but as something entrusted to me for a limited amount of time (no matter what, they will one day not be under my primary care). I also hope to bring more patience to this job of parenting. I can't expect it to be easy, but it's so important to keep your eyes on the big prize--that you love these people more than anything, that the more "character" they have, perhaps the even more lovable they are, and I want them to know that. It was just a very sobering week processing something that was both not so close to me and yet so very close to all of our lives.

I am seeing such a change happening lately with Walter and Ollie. It's also sobering. I can easily say things like, "Oh, they are more than halfway to leaving home now," or "It's been longer since they've been born since when they will be in college," or "Only a little over 5 years until they have a learner's permit!" But really, they are becoming people we can do things with. Tonight we played real Scrabble for the first time. They needed a lot of help this time around, especially because their spelling skills aren't that great, but there they were playing. They can play Trivial Pursuit if the game is multi-leveled. We can play Risk and Stratego and highly competitive games of Monopoly. I can start thinking about Ollie reading the history books I get for myself (today I used my B&N gift certificate and got a National Book Award winner about the Dust Bowl and that Pulitzer winning _Founding Brothers_). It's exciting, but it also makes me realize that it might not be long before they are going to be far more their own people and probably less open to my agendas. They are starting to be responsible enough to look after siblings while we're home and busy. They can change diapers, put clothes on toddlers, and help make their own food. I know that the whole point of parenting is to help them become independent people, but it is hard to accept that those formative years, the primary time of influence from me is rapidly coming to its conclusion. Have I done enough? Have I harmed them for life? Have I fulfilled my obligations? Have I done the best job that I could have?

We also did most of the work making the four model rockets we bought this week tonight. The original plan was to launch at a different site from the last one we did, where we lost both of our rockets, so I let them get some more very small, high flying ones. Now it turns out that the new location is going to be locked this week, so we are back at the old spot. I'm afraid that Ollie's little "Hi Flier" and Walter's wee little "Gnome" are going to never be seen again. I made sure that Rutledge and Frances's rockets were larger and less lofty, since I'd like to bring a bit of our investment home with us for once! This also made me eschew some of the choices that had things like a helicopter propellor to bring back the nose cone separate from the rocket, which comes down by parachute (how much do you want to bet that we'd come home with a nose-less rocket?) or the one that had two space shuttles that come off the sides and 'glide' back to earth. Simple was the name of the game for me. I also decided that there were going to be no badges given out for choosing a kit with a Skill Level higher than 1 and that no one was going to banish me to the Space Loser Camp if we got ones that required no sanding, painting, or complex construction at all. Here's our progress so far: the Pencil, the Gnome, the Hi Flier, and the Chrominator.




This is what my van looks like. People are always climbing over seats, changing positions to be near someone or away from someone. And Rutledge is almost always screaming about something. The grumpy face here is one of his old standbys: "I want Toke! Give me Toke!" (That's Coke, for those who actually pronounce their /k/ sounds.) The big outing today was to B&N to use our gift certificates from Grandma. Ollie got The Hobbit on audio CD, a Monk book (from Monk the TV show), and an Elvis cookbook. I got two history books and the Percy Jackson series--yeah, I know it's a kid's book, but I want to read all of them myself. I still have quite a bit left on my card. Rutledge got a counting book featuring dogs, a Kumon cutting book and a mazes book, and a stuffed gold dragon. Walter got Marley and Me and I can't remember what else. And Frances got an American Girl kit where you design t-shirts for your doll and a hairstyling kit with a blond wig with pink and blue hair extensions. She has been saying lately that she wants long hair. I don't know...whaddya think? Given that she yanked out a whole pile of that hair with a brush when she got home, I'm not sure it's such a great idea.








I've always loved finding these kinds of photos when I download things from my camera. We get the typical pictures of people's fingers or the roof of the minivan, but then there are these fascinating little photo shoots:



Poor Bilbo in his jail.

Frances claimed she has never flown a kite, which I'm not sure is true. But at any rate, yesterday morning was beautiful and windy, so it was a perfect time to go out to the playing field across from us with a kite. Unfortunately, it was late afternoon by the time I found string, so the day wasn't quite so beautiful, and it was starting to sprinkle and I was getting a weather pressure change migraine at that point. But Frances and Rutledge had a super time.


Then there was today:

I'm Nancy, and I'm an emetophobe. I recently found an absolutely fabulous resource on the web about emetophobia, and I am so thrilled to hear that I am not alone. Check out http://emetophobia.bravepages.com/emetophobia.html. It was like reading a biography of myself!

* At the grocery store, the emetophobic may verge on obsessive-compulsive, carefully examining each of a dozen oranges going into the bag (they might actually wash those oranges before eating them too); reaching back in the cooler to get "colder" items; hounding the deli personnel for certain items to be selected or cut; and our favorite, hand-washing following a visit to the meat department.

*Dietary restrictions are universal among emetophobics. Most emetophobics have a list of foods they won't eat because they suspect them of being likely carriers of food poisoning; many avoid other foods because they associate them with a childhood episode of vomiting. Since most food poisoning is caused by unsanitary preparation rather than tainted food, phobics are roundly meticulously hygenic cooks. (Easiest way to lose an emetophobic? Lick the spoon while cooking.)
(Yeah! It gave me particular pleasure today to throw out salad dressings that were out of date and to know that at least for a while, all food in my fridge is going to be new and in tip-top condition. Let's not get into my list of requirements for seafood or my fear of deviled eggs or my terror of spaghetti or how I don't like to eat things in red sauces in winter...)

* Nearly all emetophobics report being unable to care for their children and other family members when those people fall ill. Some will sleep in another room when a family member is ill. (Well, duh. Kerry is sleeping downstairs right now with the sick child, while I'm sitting on my sheet-less bed because I'm washing my sheets for the fourth time this week. Only once was my bed actually thrown up on. I'm washing now because people who were going to become sick later or who were sick a day ago touched my bed.)

* It is not unusual for emetophobics to have a particularly stringent set of criteria for eating out. Some avoid restaurants altogether. Some will order an entree but will never eat from a buffet or salad bar. Some claim to have a 6th sense that tells them not to eat in a particular restaurant. (Would Nancy go to a Mongolian barbecue place? Do I tend to prefer chain restaurants, especially when I'm traveling and don't know about the reputation of a local place?)

* Nearly all emetophobics avoid water travel; some refuse to fly as well, and a few even stay out of land vehicles. (Ask me if I want to go on a cruise...)

* Although more common in children, emetophobics frequently have superstitions about their trigger event or subsequent times they vomited. being anxious even about the day of the week they vomited, or the month, even blocking out pleasant memories of a year in which they vomited. (But look, it's not a superstition if I really do have a house full of vomiting people in the week between Christmas and New Years! I also mark the date of October 19th, February 18th, and February 26th.)

* Emetophobia affects career choice as well, with many otherwise-qualified (and perhaps even interested), intelligent sufferers eschewing fields that they see as high-risk for vomiting, such as health care, the military, teaching, laboratory research, aviation, and space. (Since I was very young, I've always wanted to go to medical school. I still regret it! But as my mother always said, "You can't get to be a doctor if you are afraid of people throwing up." I wonder if that's true...)

With all this said, this has been a very trying week for me. My fear is that I'm going to vomit, so while I don't really appreciate seeing/hearing other people vomit, I am increasingly able to deal with it without rushing out the door and hopping a plane to another country (okay, the plane part is a little extreme because people sometimes vomit on planes, and that wouldn't be good...). There was last Monday, when Frances threw up five times. And last Sunday, when Rutledge coughed until he threw up on himself in the car in Hampton (I did insist--in the form of driving the car away from the restaurant we were pulling into--that we go directly home, but I was able to be in the vehicle without undue fear). And yesterday, when one of my greatest fears happened. I was in the shower with a head full of shampoo when I heard Kerry say, from the bedroom adjoining, "Are you going to throw up" and then a hulaballoo of running around. I screeched out, "Don't come in here!" And thankfully he didn't. It terrifies me to no end to think that I could be in a bathroom showering or brushing my teeth and someone could come rushing in and throw up. Thankfully, there were no other episodes yesterday, though he was feverish and lethargic all day. And then today, I could see the telltale signs in Ollie. We were out at Chick-Fil-A when Ollie decided that he couldn't really eat more than two fries and didn't want the Coke he had begged for. I rushed him home, and so far, so good. He's not eating, and he says he's really cold, but it's been many hours, and nothing worse yet. This was the pattern for the two others, though. The night before, they mentioned a vague stomach ache and then didn't eat, or they didn't eat, but then later said they were hungry, I fixed them something, and they only took two bites. Then 15 hours later they threw up. I'm trying not to freak out, but I'm just really ready for this to be over.

But this isn't our only drama. Oh no! I forgot to mention that on the day after Christmas, I received a call from the police saying that our totaled van had been broken into. The aftermarket stereo was stolen, and perhaps a Home Depot credit card (now cancelled). That's kicking you when you're down!

But the real drama had to do with the fridge. Kerry has had a cold, so he can't smell or taste anything, but I thought that the water from the fridge tasted terrible yesterday, and so did Ollie. I finally decided that I was, indeed, losing it and that it was just me. Then this morning, when I got up at, get this, 10:30 and went downstairs, I found that the water was not only still tasting awful, but was warm. I started to make myself some toast and when I opened the fridge to get some jelly, I discovered that the bag of yeast that I touched was warm...very warm. And that it smelled very, very bad in there. And that all kinds of substances were dripping. You have to understand that the fridge was crazy full, so there was a lot of stuff to drip, including pounds and pounds of butter. There were things whose lids had been knocked off kilter that ended up oozing and spilling around (gravy...ewww). I started filling garbage bag after bag, and then realized that I needed to dump out all of the condiments and other things that were weighing so much and I should recycle them. More than an hour later, I had about 30 bottles and jars on the counter, my garbage disposal was working overtime (gotta love 78 degree mayonnaise, pickle cubes, maraschino cherries, a one pound jar of minced garlic, and oily blueberry vinaigrette salad dressing all floating in a 6 inch high soup of water in the sink and not going down). Then I had to bleach out the entire fridge, which had such lovely problems as 78 degree gravy dripped on a light bulb. All of the crisper drawers had to come out, everything had to be bleached and cleaned. For whatever reason, the fridge saw fit to adjust its temperature to 78 degrees, even though it was set to 37. Who knows what happened, but it was $130 to get it diagnosed and will be over $300 for the part. The repair guy looked at our FUBAR dishwasher as well, and that just needs to be replaced. It no longer lets us change any settings--the control panel is completely non-responsive. What's sad is that it is only about 3.5 years old. He said that this model has had incredible troubles and we aren't alone. And Maytag is now out of business. I know why. (This is actually a Jenn-Air, but is owned by Maytag). Not a happy day for appliances in our house.

The very clean, but offending appliance in our family after the icky bailout. And the darn thing has gotten back down to 38 degrees mysteriously tonight while we await the $300 part. Sigh....

T-Plus two days after Christmas.

It started with a real bang. That's right: massive dog diarrhea! Kerry is constantly guilty, God love him, of giving the dogs things that are guaranteed to cause (1) a mess on the porch (2) diabetes (3) fat beagles (4) massive dog diarrhea and/or vomiting. But I think this time he outdid himself. He decided that because the 24 pound turkey we got was difficult to clean when dinner was over and since we often don't really eat much of the dark meat anyway that he was going to give it ALL to the dogs. ALL meant probably 7 pounds of dark meat turkey and the fat that went along with it. I suppose he thought that a morning serving of Christmas dinner would give them all day to, um, deal with it. Wrong! Wrong, wrong, wrong! I was the lucky one who was still in bed when he discovered the gigantic piles of rancid, acidic, burning hot dog poop that were all around on our family room rug. It made him throw up. We still have spots because we are out of enzyme cleaner, and when he was out, he got other things that just don't work all that well. I don't want this kind of crap in my steamer, so I'm going to wait until tomorrow. Meanwhile, despite Resolve and Lysol and soap and water, it still stinks.

My sister in law and brother in law were coming today for "Christmas" with us, so there was much cleaning to do again. It is my yearly tradition to make biscotti at Christmas, usually chocolate chunk walnut biscotti, but since I lost the recipe I had saved in my bookmarks on Firefox last year, I had to find something new. I searched *everywhere* for that recipe or one that almost the same (my original biscotti recipe came from a Baker's Chocolate free recipe book from Kroger and has long since been lost, so I have a history of losing these recipes). In the end, it was baking, Nancy style. I made four or five different biscotti recipes today, searching for that perfect one. Also, Nancy style, I glanced over the first recipe I was going to try, but didn't register that it required a rather complicated type of cereal (Post Cranberry Almond Crunch) that I didn't have. Well, duh. I wouldn't have chosen the recipe if I knew it contained (1) cereal (2) a commercial brand of cereal like htat. But anyway, I got the cereal and made the biscotti, which stuck a bit to the pan and spread out a lot, especially on my bar pan, where the two logs of it 'became one' by the time the baking was over. I was able to separate them for the rebake, but they remained a little short.

My second attempt was with a chocolate biscotti that used unsweetened cocoa powder. It came out pretty well, but wasn't spectacular--I think it should have had white chocolate chunks or cranberries or something to make it a little more exciting. This was with a Master Biscotti Recipe that you could customize.

Third recipe was a walnut and chocolate chunk biscotti that used two tablespoons of milk, and I think milk is an interesting ingredient for a biscotti. The milk was supposed to make it a little softer, which is really not the point with biscotti (the recipe suggested substituting water for a harder product). I made a really big mess with this one because the dough turned out way too sticky and was all over my hands and the baking sheet and was unmoldable. I ended up adding probably a full cup of flour to it, bit by bit by bit, until I could finally get it into the flattened log shape I needed. But you know what? This one turned out to be the best one! Firm, but not brittle, attractive to look at, cut well, and tolerated the baking process without breaking.

My fourth attempt was another chocolate biscotti, and I used the Cuisinart with it because I was tired of cutting Baker's chocolate with a knife. Overall, I'm not sure how it went. At that point, I was really over baking, and I forgot that I had left them in the oven for the second bake. I guess you can't really overbake biscotti, but I just might have. They aren't burned, but they're very firm. I'd suggest dunking these in something to soften them up so they don't break your teeth!

Finally, I think my kitchen is kind of clean and all cookies are appropriately stored. Since Christmas Eve I have made chocolate cut-out cookies, reindeer noses, gumdrop cookies, sugar cookies, Moravian spice cookies, pecan praline muffins (that Pampered Chef non-stick muffin pan definitely needs to be sprayed before the batter is put in!), and dough that is now chilling for Amish sugar cookies (they had a lot of sour cream in them). I also made my second loaf of bread last night--a white bread with non-fat dry milk in it (my first was a dairy-free wheat bread) which turned out quite nice. It's still a little bit heavy, which I'm going to work on, but the loaf was much more attractive than the first one done in the machine, whose top looked like the Andes. This one I put on the dough setting and then baked it in my regular oven.

I think it's time for me to stop baking. It's time consuming, makes a big mess, and my kids are eating nothing but sugar. We still have some pork loin and turkey left from our big meal, so I'm going to concentrate on protein for tomorrow. Tonight was our traditional Chinese from the Zheng Garden when Annie and Tim were here--this is our Christmas meal together when they come.

If I wasn't baking, I'd surely be wasting time. And I have a host of new ways to waste outrageous amounts of time lately. The iPod Touch is a rather amazing device. I didn't know just how much I needed one! Of course, I haven't even begun to plumb the depths of what I can usefully do with it yet--the things like making a calendar, keeping lists of things like library books I need, or setting it up to check my email. No--I've been doing intellectual things like popping bubble wrap (you can do this for money!) and catapulting penguins and dive-bombing polar bears and laughing until I cried with a virtual Whoopie Cushion. Last night I spent close to four hours addictively playing Yahtzee, a problem I had before there was an electronic version. When I was pregnant with Rutledge, Kerry and I would play game after game of Yahtzee. Then, when he quit and went to sleep, I would sit and play by myself for several more hours every night. At 12:55, I made a pact with myself that the next time I got a score above 250, I was going to turn the thing off and go to bed. Then it was when I got three scores over 250. Then it was as soon as I finish this game here.... Next thing I knew it was after 1:30....

Frances had a friend sleeping over, and that's always a bit of an adventure. She slept over at this friend's house last Saturday night, and a day and a half later had the stomach flu. So I'm a wee tad nervous. I try not to let my severe emetophobia seep into my children's tender psyches, and I feel like I'm being especially gracious and calm this fall/winter about not limiting activities out of my own (ir?)rational fears.

Merry Christmas!

Whew! What an exciting day!

I'm pleased that our family Christmases don't begin at the ungodly hour that mine did as a child, when I woke up at 4:30 a.m. ready to open gifts. The twins were up around 7:15, and Rutledge and Frances were up a bit before 8, at which time we all headed downstairs (Walter and Ollie had already been there). I'm embarrassed at what a Not Economic Downturn Christmas we had. In fact, yesterday afternoon, when I was out and part of my job was to look for this Cabela's Dangerous Hunts game that Ollie wants, I felt like I was morally decrepit for even contemplating One More Gift. Thankfully, I didn't find it, and I wasn't going on a multi-store adventure looking. But here's what they did get:

Ollie:
Calvin and Hobbes Complete Collection
Nerf Vulcan gun
Call of Duty 4
Wintergreen lift ticket and snow pants
2 fleece jackets

Walter:
Lego Indiana Jones Temple Escape
Lego Cargo Plane
various small lego sets--street sweeper, a police car, etc.
Wintergreen lift ticket
Erector set
Lego Mindstorms books
Fleece jacket
Three stuffed mooses with a note from Santa--his favorite gift, though he was very disturbed by the ceramic "dirty shoe" that one of these mooses was in

Frances:
American Girl: Julie
Charm bracelet
Makeup set
Two Calico Critter families, 3 Little Pigs, and three small accessory sets, including a General Store
Art supplies
Two pairs of pajamas--silk and red and white striped
Fleece jacket
Teddy bear
Mancala

Rutledge:
Imaginext Dinosaur Mountain
Playmobil Police
Playmobil Knights Rock Mountain Tower
Tonka crane
Giant wooden pirate ship and boat dock
Red and white striped pajamas
Some slightly more age-appropriate XBox games (Viva Pinata, Cars)
Star Wars figures
Army transport vehicle that makes lots of sounds

Then there were some family gifts--Blokus, Ticket to Ride, Settlers of Catan

And a large number of things that I'm forgetting now--there were many, many presents under that tree!

Though Kerry and I weren't supposed to exchange gifts because we got a car, I got him some small things (and lost and still haven't found the wallet I got him)--some gym pants, some car care stuff, a keychain that beeps when you whistle so you can find your keys. And he cheated and got me an amazing bread machine (though I probably won't make too much of this dairy-less bread I made tonight when some allergic guests were coming; it was rather dry), two sweaters, two shirts, a skirt that is tight (for some reason I've gained about 5 pounds in the past week!), and some jeans. And the big thing: an iPod touch. I haven't even touched it yet...literally. It's still in the box because I haven't had a second to sit down today. My Dad also gave me us some money and paid for our room at our family reunion at the beach next September.

Here's my progress on yesterday's list:

* Made 5 different kinds of cookies
* Watched It's a Wonderful Life
* Finished Risk
* Went to Christmas Eve service at church
* Saw award-winning decorated houses in Woodlake and the incredible computer-controlled lights of a house in Charter Colony where the lights change with the beat of the music--they have their own radio station that broadcasts the sound for their display!
* Read to Frances

I also did some last-minute shopping, picked up our Christmas cards from Costco, and did a ton of cleaning.

Today was even busier--the opening of the gifts, then non-stop cleaning and preparation for our dinner this afternoon. I am shocked that I even got a shower. Erased most evidence of the wrapping papers and bows and shards of cardboard boxes that was everywhere from the unwrapping. Shuttled gifts into people's bedrooms so that our living room had some space in it. Set up the dinosaur mountain, only to have it be knocked over into smithereens. Made bread in the new bread machine. Made slice and bake cookies with Ollie. Folded tiny little paper magazines and books for the Calico Critters and put the stickers on their vanity tables and general stores and microscopic tubes of toothpaste. Tracked down batteries for giant guns, fake hamsters, flocked animal nursery lights, and laser tag weapons and targets and fiddled with all those dadburned screws that you have to unscrew to put in batteries these days. Untwisted outrageous numbers of twist ties holding on everything from Mary Poppins and Bert to members of a SWAT team. Served dinner to 8 adults and 10 children. Drank another glass of wine after everyone went upstairs for a few minutes. Cleaned my trashed kitchen and hand-washed about 25 pans and serving pieces so that the queue waiting for the dishwasher didn't appear so ominous.

Injuries today:

* Sliced a big chunk out of my fingertip while trying to knock wax off a candlestick with a knife
* Submarined my index finger and its cuticle in a battery holder of a Nerf weapon
* Stood up and banged my head with the full force of standing up into the underside of a rock countertop
* Burned my finger through an oven mitt that was not properly stuff in some spots while trying to pop some recalcitrant bread out of a pan

Where I am now: waiting for the last cookies to bake and watching Home Alone. Wishing that I lived in Kevin's lovely house in Chicago, where it is no doubt snowing just like it is in the movie. Wondering how I'm going to stay awake for Christmas with the Cranks, which I'm in the mood to see.

Plan for tomorrow: RELAX!!!

I finally got the elusive Christmas card picture on Sunday. They're wearing all those elf hats I knitted since the summer.

It's been a goofy few days.

Sunday we decided to make our Christmas trip down to Norfolk, unannounced. My Dad wants us to visit him, and Kerry's parents and grandmother wanted us to come there, and since these trips are in two different directions, we thought it would be wise to space them out. The pictures were taken at his parents' house in their yard. They live on a mud pit within visual distance of the Lafayette River, so the kids were, of course, in the mud, taking apart the brick retaining rip rap whatever to make stepping stones.


Looking for the raccoons' house with Grandma.

Rutledge is always full of sticks and dirt.



I never have enough pictures of Ollie. We were loading up the digital picture frames we got for our parents and realized that Ollie is way under-represented. Probably because he always looks serious or sullen, if we get a picture of the front of him at all. I was practically chasing him with the camera trying to get a shot of him, but all I saw was the back of his head. I wonder if there's any deeper meaning to that....


Walter's always there, though. I don't have as many pictures of him as I do of Frances and Rutledge, who still spend a lot of time hamming for the camera, but he does stop for a minute to show me things or to make sure that his interests are recorded for all time.


Walter found snails that were just like the ones at Marty and Peter's river house. What's gross is that I think he brought them home in a cup, but I haven't seen them in the house yet, which means they're still in my van. Eww....

We ate at Cracker Barrel on the way home. I have to say, there's something that restaurant is doing right. My kids all love to go there and it has become our tradition whenever we are on a car trip anywhere. The store is what makes the experience. They used their Christmas money from Grandma to get some very exciting things: a kind of scary looking monkey with a flocked face; a light-up sword that makes clinking noises; an Elvis CD; a bell like you find to 'ring for service.' They have the best ornaments there, too--you always know you can find that perfect Elvis ornament there!

The bad news this week is that the next day, Frances woke up and threw up on my bed. And then numerous more times on a towel in front of her because she was too sick to move. Words can't really describe how much fear this strikes into my heart, especially at Christmas. We are supposed to have three other families over for dinner on Christmas day, and I don't want us to have to cancel. Nor do I want to have one of "those" Christmases that we've all heard about--the ones where Santa can't come because everyone is too sick to move from the bed or the children are too delirious with fevers and nausea to even care what day it is. Thankfully, Frances recovered very quickly and was back riding her bike and eating doughnuts today. And my house is very disinfected!

I'm so excited about Christmas, and for once, I'm feeling relatively prepared. I think Christmas Eve is my favorite day of the year. I love it even more than Christmas. Here is my list of what I'd like to do tomorrow:

* Watch "It's a Wonderful Life."
* Watch "Scrooged"
* Watch "Miracle on 34th Street"
* Finish our Risk game
* Go bowling with friends
* Bake biscotti
* Bake cookies
* Repair our gingerbread houses
* Play a game that I think my kids are going to open as their Christmas Eve gift
* See some of the lights in our neighborhood, especially the award winners
* Go to the Christmas Eve service at church
* Finish the beaded snowman ornament Frances started three weeks ago
* Make the photo ornaments we didn't get to at our co-op
* Read to Frances

I had all of these great plans for what we could do today with all of this time to relax. So what did we do? Well, I slept late, which was good. Then I took Frances to her gymnastics party, where the vexing question of whether I should just cough up the rest of that $250 that I didn't fundraise (like many others didn't, it seems...) loomed very large. It all has me wondering whether we should be moving toward sending her back to her previous gym, which was further away.

And just as when you give a mouse a cookie, he's going to ask for a glass of milk to go with it, when you ask about going back to Olympiad, you're probably going to start thinking that you need to move. So after the party, we all piled into the car for our family's favorite activity: looking at houses. Year after year, every year since we've lived here, we've been looking for somewhere else to go. We've never quite made it out of our house, but if we thought it was at all possible to sell our house, we'd probably have been gone long ago. Now there's the whole economic bust thing going, two houses already for sale in our little neighborhood and another one going on in about two weeks. We have no possibility of competing with the state of our house and the craziness of our schedule and family! Nor do we really have any business buying something new, given that we're as prone to the economic disasters that are happening all around us as anyone else is. So I'm hoping that this time the urge to move on will pass as quickly as it came.

We've decided that perhaps Salisbury is our desired location. The areas we looked at today included Queensmill (perhaps too locked in and not quite on main roads; slightly more difficult for getting to work); some areas in Bon Air (most houses too small); other areas off Robious (absolutely no houses for sale at all--a good sign, but not when you want to buy something). I don't want to be house poor, especially if one of the primary reasons we would be moving would be to be closer to children's activities. With as much attending open houses as we've done and as much driving around as we've done in the past, the activity now ceases to thrill me with the possibilities and just makes me feel very, very tense.

I picked up a few more very small things for Kerry (no surround-sound speaker systems!) and a few other little gifts after everyone else was dropped at home. I bought crickets for the frog. But then we did a decent job of just enjoying a day with no obligations. Frances is sleeping over at a friend's house. The boys and I played Monopoly and Ollie won the first game. He is not very much fun to play with because he cheats so often and so subtly that it is hard to trust anything he does or any situation on the board where something good happens to him. But I strongly believe that one key to improving his character and making him into a future friend-worthy person is to teach him through games how his behavior affects people and how to lose gracefully and still enjoy the time with others. Kerry played in the second Monopoly game, and I kept the bank far from Ollie and we had two adults scrutinizing his moves and rolls. He came extremely close to winning. Kerry went out earlier, but Ollie and I battled on with lots of hotels and large amounts of money going back and forth and back and forth for probably 45 minutes longer. I am proud to say that I finally have won a game! And I won it fairly and squarely!

We are hosting our now annual Waywards, Waifs, and Wastrels holiday dinner. I'm not sure how many are coming, and I blush to say that I hope that it is a manageable number because we have not yet begun to prepare. As of now, we have two families from across the street coming, each with two children. They came over last year, and it was tons of fun. I'm just really excited that we are going to be able to spend some time with other people so that Christmas day feels special. I miss the holidays we had when I was little, when my grandparents were staying with us and there was just a warm, enclosed feeling about our house. My kids haven't had that same extended family holiday experience, so finding other people who are also without extended families during Christmas has been a great way to get some of that warm, fuzzy holiday spirit back.

I think we're going to try to go to Norfolk tomorrow. I should be happy and energized about it, but right now, I just want to sit down and hole up at home! I want to finish cleaning up the boxes that are lying around after decorating the house. I want to do some last-minute shopping for some friends. I want to watch Christmas movies and play board games. I want to go out and look at other people's Christmas lights. I want to wrap presents. Maybe we would be better to wait until after Christmas for this. I guess we'll see where the day takes us tomorrow.

Today was our annual homeschool group Christmas party, and it was a very fun time. Like most of these parties, it went by way too fast, and then there was the crazy cleanup. We made the most adorable angel ornaments out of oyster shells, some of the kids made snowflakes from coffee filters, the older kids had a gingerbread house decorating contest, and many kids were engaged in the dreidel game. There's nothing quite like gambling to keep everyone interested, and it was nice that the game can accommodate any number of people and being who slip in and out.

I think we're kind of on a break now, though what that means when you're always reading and making things and coming up with projects isn't really clear. I'm excited about hopefully being able to play some games, read some good books, and spend some time at home. We'll see how that works out!