Wow! Where do I start? Life has been so crazy that I haven't had time to write anything for a long time. I'll try not to get too wordy, but I'm not guaranteeing that. Sorry, no pictures this time.
Jingle All The Way
When I was a kid Christmas was almost more excitement than I could bear. I was a little booger about Christmas, too. I hated waiting for Christmas to come to be able to know what all those presents accumulating under the tree were. I remember the Christmas that I was 13(?) we were living in the underground house in Declo and we had gotten a big package of presents from Grandma and Grandpa Carter. All the presents were wrapped when they came and Mom & Dad had put them under the tree. I seemed to do a lot of babysitting for my parents that year because in my memory they were always gone. I became expert that Christmas at opening the presents without making them look opened. I didn't just open my own presents, either, I opened everyone's presents. I knew what all of those wrapped presents were way before Christmas. Even knowing what all the presents were, I still couldn't get to sleep on Christmas Eve. That was nuts!
Christmas started early at our house, too. We were always up by 5:00. Sometimes we had to wait for Dad to get done milking the cows or come home from working a graveyard shift. When we had to do that, Mom always had us breaking up bread for stuffing. (To this day, I always get a "Christmas morning" feeling when I break bread for stuffing, no matter what time of year it is.) That's how she kept us from going out into the veritable wonderland that our living room had transformed into in the middle of the night. I'm not sure how my Mom managed to not kill us on those Christmas mornings. She couldn't have gotten more than a couple of hours of sleep after putting out our presents, but I don't remember her ever being angry at us on Christmas morning. Sadly, I cannot boast of such a quality in myself. Around here, it has traditionally not been the children who are excited for Christmas morning and waking me up for presents. It has almost always been The Man of My Dreams. Most years I wake up to, "Can we wake up the kids now?" (My Little Warrior has beaten him at waking up the last couple of years, though.) This year I thought maybe we'd get to sleep in a little since everyone at our house was finally certain about Santa's identity. Was I ever wrong!!! I think My Little Warrior started asking if he could wake people up at 3:00! We made him wait until the much more decent hour of 5 or 5:30. I don't remember. It's all a blur.
Our biggest Christmas surprise this year came on Christmas Eve. That evening, there was a knock on the door. Assuming it was a neighbor dropping off some wonderful Christmas treat, My Little Warrior and My Silly Girl raced to the door to be the one who received and the one who handed out our little neighbor gift. (This year we handed out "Cowboy Bubble Bath," which is actually a bag of dry beans with instructions to eat them two hours before bathing, to eat lots for better bubbles, and to bathe alone and away from open flame. Our intention was to make deliveries, but we ended up only passing them out at the door to anyone who came by.) I also went to the door. Somehow, I managed to get there first and when I opened it, there was a man dressed in black with what I thought was a Storm Trooper helmet on his head. (I have been informed that it was actually a Clone Trooper helmet. Does it really matter?) On my porch next to him was a huge box. He said, "Is this the Mudrow house?" I said, "Yes." My Little Warrior hadn't registered that something was not normal yet and handed the man our gift. In return for our bag of beans which he dropped into a big black bag that he was carrying, he handed My Little Warrior an Ipod Touch, reached into his bag and handed him another Ipod Touch and another and another. I just stood there completely dumbfounded (literally.) He said they have names on them. Then he handed in a Wii console, an extra controller, a Toy Story Wii game, and a huge package of batteries. As if that wasn't enough, he started pushing in the huge box, which finally registered in my brain as a very large TV. The Man of My Dreams had joined us by this point and he had more presence of mind than I did. He asked, "Who can we thank for this?" To which the Whatever Trooper replied, "the Galactic Alliance. Merry Christmas." Then he walked away into the night. (If we had been in possession of working brains, we would have watched where he went, but that was not the case that night.) As I closed the door, My Little Warrior was losing his mind with excitement. The Ipods all had one of my children's names etched onto the back of them. I am still flabbergasted when I think about that night. One part of me was astonished. Why would someone do this for us? Another part of me was frustrated. Why would someone do this to us? (I am anti-gaming system and now all that I had done for my family for Christmas paled in comparison.) Another part of me was just completely baffled. How could someone afford to do this for us? I am completely embarrassed to admit that on that night and for probably a week or two after, no part of me was grateful. Looking back now, I am. It was very kind of someone to do that for our family. My Little Warrior told me that night that he had been praying we would get a Wii for Christmas. I am grateful that the Galactic Alliance was listening to the Spirit so that my son's prayer could be answered. That particular tidbit of revelation would never have found it's way into my heart or mind. So, Galactic Alliance, thank you wherever you are.
Five A Day
As days grew shorter and colder my chickens stopped laying. Only Alice was still giving me an egg any more. I figured it was just because it had been so dang cold. The Man of My Dreams was concerned that the chickens were going to freeze to death. He wanted to install a heater, but I assured him that the chicken coop was staying warm enough. My Little Warrior was worried because all the chickens who had stopped laying were molting. He didn't know what that was. All he knew is that they had no feathers only the pointy quill things sticking out of their necks. I kept telling him that they were fine, but he was clearly concerned. It finally dawned on me that it wasn't the cold that was keeping the chickens from laying and causing them to molt, it was the length of their day. Everything I had read when we first got the chickens said that they stop laying in the winter because they don't get enough light. So, we decided to light the chicken coop. The week after Christmas, we rigged up the heat lamp that we used when they were just chicks. The first few nights, I'd go out and unplug the lamp. Since then, we have just been leaving it on all the time. (It looks like a party in the hen house all night long.) All the chickens who had previously been laying slowly started laying again. Lucy was still not laying -- she had never started. ThenTwo Sundays ago, I got five eggs! I was so excited!!! Since then, I have gotten four or five eggs every day. Who'da thunk that all those people who wrote those books knew what they were talking about. I was fine just waiting until spring to get eggs, but for some people around here, it is all about the eggs. If I lived in the chicken coop, I would be a basket case by now -- I cannot sleep with the light on -- but the chickens seem to be handling it well enough. So if you can't sleep at night, there is always a party going on in my chicken coop.
Payback After All These Years
When I had My Princess almost 16 years ago, I had a C-section. We had some really good friends, who came to visit me in the hospital and see our little Rarah, as her not-so-big, big brother called her. It was during their visit that I discovered the absolute pain of laughing after your stomach has been cut open. The Man of My Dreams found this to be VERY amusing, and did all he could to make me laugh. I swore someday I would get him back. (I have to admit, I found it fairly amusing, too.) On Wednesday, I finally got my sweet revenge. Tuesday, The Man of My Dreams had double hernia surgery. (I'm not sure he wanted that to go public, so shh, don't tell anyone.) On Wednesday, I went to the library and checked out some episodes of the Carol Burnett Show. We watched them on Wednesday night. Well, he watched them, and I watched him. It was great! "Oh! Ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh! Ha-ha-ha! Oh!" Thank you, honey, I needed that.
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