Obligatory Bath Pictures

We figured we'd better document the radical bathtub hair before it gets too long to be so awesome.

P.S. Man, I love this munchie-kin.

P.P.S Merry Christmas!

When in Doubt, Take a Nap

My mom tells me that my Grandma used to say, "I have so much to do...I think I'll take a nap first and get it out of the way."

Nothing makes me want to take a nap like the current state of the kitchen sink.

 Good night, folks.

Cooking with Frankenstein

In the words of Richard Nixon, "I am not a cook."

Indeed, cooking is not something that I do exceptionally well. (Believe it or not, there is a whole litany of areas in which I don't particularly excel, but let's save that list for another moment when we have more time.) For this reason, I can't make a meal without a recipe, I shy away from doing anything experimental in the kitchen, and I avoid anything resembling challenging kitchen tasks at all costs.

It is also for this reason that I never make a pie crust. While I have many fond memories of hovering over my mom while she very adeptly mixed, rolled, and executed beautiful pie crusts filled with yummy goodness, my own attempts never come close to what her talents seem to have effortlessly produced.

Sadly, my own pie crusts resemble something that only Chef Frankenstein would be proud of-- painstakingly pieced-together catastrophes that barely pass for pie crusts at all:

And yet, when leftover turkey and gravy persistently beckon my hungry family's post-Thanksgiving taste buds, I have no choice but to don the surgical gloves and perform this unpleasant procedure, which typically involves a huge mess of flour, an increasingly grumpy Mommy, and 2-3 phone calls to my mom and/or sister. 

Until next year, adieu, ugly pie crust.

(The final product: it's a wreck, but man, it sure tasted good.)

Raise Your Glasses

Looks like Julia has unofficially inherited my horrible eyesight. For the moment, she is far-sighted, but the eye doctor said that it will likely progress into nearsightedness as she gets older. (I have no idea how this happens. Good thing I'm not an eye doctor.)

She could hardly contain her excitement when she found out she was destined for a brand new pair of glasses. Little does she know that she will shake her fist at her bad eyesight for many years to come.

Is it sad that Craig and I don't like her glasses because they make her look so much older? As far as we're concerned, she is plenty old enough already.

(working on boring homework with
her fashionable new accessories.)

More Quotables

They're cooky, they're funny, and oh, so quotable. Here are a couple of recent gems from the girls.

Julia, after being forced into an early morning clean-up last weekend: "I wish you and Daddy were still asleep so that we didn't have to clean our room right now."

Savanna, in response to my mention of a "super-cute" ornament that my friend left on our doorstep: "Uh, sometimes I'm super-cute..."

Lexa, excited to answer my question of "who's Mommy's big girl?" responded with, "I do!"

The Trouble With Volunteering

As a kid, I was super-clingy and had a ridiculously hard time adjusting to my new surroundings at the beginning of each and every school year. As a parent, I worried that those innate fears would be passed on to my children and that they would get to school age and be...well, like me. Thankfully, Julia adjusted really well to both kindergarten and first grade, so my worries have, thus far, been alleviated.

But alas, volunteering in Julia's classroom has shown me that a portion of my genes--however small--has indeed been passed on to my oldest child without my consent. When it was time for me to leave after spending an hour volunteering with her class on Thursday morning, Julia told me that she didn't feel well. I knew this was her attempt to get me to bring her home with me, so I dismissed her complaint. When I walked over to her desk to kiss her goodbye a few minutes later, I found her with her head on her desk softly crying into her sweater. 

Gulp.

 I'm not sure which was worse...her heartbreak, or mine. I did the responsible thing and left, with a quiet mention to the teacher that she was having a hard time, and I crept guiltily back home.

I knew she would be fine, and, of course, she was. When I picked her up that afternoon, I asked her how long she had felt sad after I left and she told me that it had lasted until snack time. After some thought, and, I'm sure, a keen remembrance of that morning's heartache and suffering, she tells me, as serious as can be, "Mom, if you're going to volunteer in my classroom, then you need to stay all day." 

This kid. Thank goodness she's only a tiny bit like me. 

Breakfast the Lexa Way

Never one to enjoy the old-fashioned way of doing things, little Lex has developed a peculiar way of eating her delicious Strawberry Frosted Mini-Wheats. (Have you noticed that I always use the word delicious when referring to cereal? It simply can't be helped.)

Here's the process: First she takes every piece of cereal out of her bowl and lays it on the highchair tray. Then she drinks the strawberry milk. Next she puts all the cereal back in the bowl and eats it like nothing happened. And, when appropriate, she gives me a pouty little look when I try to take pictures of her Royal Quirkiness.

(did we mention they're delicious?)

December Moments

December is here in full swing, my friends, despite the fact that, here in Phoenix, it is barely cold enough for our heater to kick on once a night.

We may not be traipsing around in any winter wonderlands, but we still know how to celebrate the season. Here are a few of our favorite moments so far:

(okay, so this picture is from last year but it's noteworthy nonetheless.)

Decorating gingerbread houses with our friend Holly:

Sugar cookies with mommy:

(man alive, this rolling pin is a blast!)

Savanna's winter ballet recital:

(the recital, not unlike Savanna, was so cute I could cry.)

Ward Christmas party:

Riding a bike sans training wheels for the first time:

Tickles with Mommy:

Stories with Grandma:

Sitting on "Santa's" lap:

Merry (20 days 'til) Christmas, everyone!