Several hours pass and we hit up the party store.  Greeted of course by the (why the hell are you bothering my txting with showing up at my job) employee mumbling something about “welcome to Party Universe blah blah blah”  Boog of course tells her we are here to get decorations for his brother’s birthday, that he was five yesterday just like us and now he’s not, asks her if she likes Sushi and then asks her if she has kids.

Yes.  He.  Did.

No.  She didn’t.

“Well then why couldn’t she get to work on time?”  he asked me.

Crap.

“Oh look, streamers.”

We got our Star Wars paraphernalia and headed to Target.

Boog shot off in the direction of the toys at 100 mph while Little Miss Sunshine strolled at the breakneck speed of a Hoveround.  We past the make up aisle and the girl asked me why they didn’t make a lipstick that lasted longer than a “Spongebob” (our standard measure of time for 15 minutes) while commiserating with her I heard the walkies  going on about a lost boy and “does he know his mommy’s name”.  Urging the girl to walk a little faster, figuring I was said mommy, we round the corner to find Boog standing in a hazmat zone having puked the length of the Lego aisle.

“He’s mine, thanks.” (you totally know that puke is not my domain inside a Target store right?  I am the mayor after all.)  And I hurried out of there with my ill child, at the breakneck speed of a Hoveround.  All while dodging two calls from CPS and the therapist, plus the knowing eyes of those with walkies judging me for not being more active in vomit clean up.

“Hey, I saw that look.  I’m the mayor around these parts, I totally have no power over you.”

Other than that it was a gorgeous day here in north Mexico.  Mid 70s and if Tech Support had the time to windsurf anymore, it would have been a great day to do so.  I feel the outdoor pool is within our grasp here shortly, (pending results of the skin cancer biopsy and a ton of SPF).

We ate cupcakes decorated like dogs and petit fours.   After of course a dinner of pork tenderloin and spinach.  (Felpsy’s choice)

Then we hunted for presents.  I would excuse my not wrapping birthday gifts as the “green” alternative buy you know that’s a bunch of bull.  But I don’t wrap birthday presents.  We scavenger hunt for them.  This year I let the twins give their own clues as to where they had hidden their gifts.  There was wailing and gnashing of teeth.  Finally it was revealed that they were “on my bed”.   When it got to be my turn I told him mine was hidden “not on top of my bed” to which a major fit was thrown.   “Fine it’s under my bed.”  Happiness.

Then a big fight where someone may or may not have ended up with a gaping head wound.

Blood.  Tears.  Timeouts. Chocolate.  Awesomeness.

No one even noticed.

Santa got zero credit for all of the awesomeness.

We got up without any stress from the imaginary being.

We ate our free breakfast, we hung out, the kids played in the snow.   I cooked, because I stay at the Residence Inn, and they have a full kitchen, and thanks to a grocery store for delivering it to us.  (I did not get all that I ordered, but neither did I get a bill.  I will decide whether or not they get a favorable mention when I see how much they charged me).

So….

we just hung out

it was perfect.

Each of the kids bought each of their siblings a Christmas gift, which I had lovingly packed in a checked bag.  Yes, just one thing to each from each ended up taking an entire checked bag.  We started out with Boog wrapping each of his gifts to the others, then worked our way up.  By the time I got to helping the Princess out, I was like “screw it” wrapping sucks.  Thank God for gift bags.

Since nothing was opened we were forced to hang out with each other (and by we I mean, them with me) and play the Wii.  Which if you are watching people play the Wii, is entertainment in itself.

By noon we were doing our own thing, and by that I mean the kids were ignoring me and I was wishing a Merry Christmas to my bff Sadie.

We had a marathon playdate with the snow and I’m sure all of Colorado was laughing at us Texans in full ski gear playing in the snow in the parking lot.  But whatev.  The kids had a blast and came back exhausted.  I became the meat in a nap sandwich involving a couple of littles, it was truly the best Christmas ever.

This would be our last night in this location.  The following morning we were getting up early and taking a train up to the  mountains.

And there was one more surprise for the kids.

(Me.  Tech Support and the many small , not to be photo’d, children inferred.)

So, because I am highly unorganized and very frugal (cheap) this is your card.

2009 has been the year of annieology.  After a year or two of multiple blogs, they all consolidated here.   Being honored with the 16th Funniest Blog in the known universe.  Having people beg (ask) me to put ads on my site.  Actually getting paid, some money.

2009 also marked my refusal to go into the deep dark world known as stereotypical American woman.  Always doing for others and letting my own wants and needs remain unmet.  Possibly a mid-life crisis, yet I have yet to secure the convertible and have no need for a personal assistant.

In June I got LASIK.  Love it, can’t believe I waited.  It’s a freakin’ miracle is what it is.

In August, Tech Support insisted I quit pretending that I am domestic and I hired a housekeeper.  Hello?  Why didn’t I do this sooner?  We have finally gotten into a rhythm and she basically folds laundry and mops, but what a blessing she has been.

2009 also marked the year I stopped doing things I didn’t want to do.  Evidenced by the Christmas tree above.  My entire life we had access to a forest.  Many years we endured the tree hunt.  Eventually buying a fake.  After moving to the City by the Sea (that is nowhere near a forest) the Awesomes bought a fake.  I would have loved to fill it with ornamental heirlooms, and become the poster child for Hallmark yet instead of Keepsakes, I filled my home with RADs.  Ornaments lovingly made by the many small children were destroyed to remind themselves they didn’t really belong here.  Last year it culminated with our tree lights being removed by a four year old while we slept, taken outside and thrown over the fence. So, this year?

No tree for you!

We got rid of the duct taped fake and bought a tree shaped lighting display.  Usually meant for outside, but this year, it’s smack dab in the middle of our living room.   Two of them actually.  There are no ornaments to be broken.  I love it.  I did not want to fight another year to keep “things” on a tree.  Best of all, it took twelve seconds to set them both up.  One day, if we live near a forest, I will force my children on a death march for the perfect tree, until then?  A tree shape will have to do.

2009 also remained the same.

We are still, fostering.  We have tried diligently and spent much money to get out of it.  We are hoping that 2010 is our year.  (that statement has secured my top ten finish in Funniest Blog 2010).

Things change.  Things stay the same.

We are looking forward to moving somewhere in 2010.  Starting to find God in a different way.  Becoming closer everyday to the people we were intended to be.

Many blessing to you and yours.

Merry Christmas!

Radical asked for a total of five things this year.  All totaled equal less than the budgeted amount.  YAY!  I guess the extended nursing paid off, as he is the most agreeable child in the world.  Hoping that doesn’t come back to bite us.  He’s ten so I didn’t really expect him to ask for a car, although that would not be unheard of with others who have spent time in our home.

Big Boy will be so surprised when his entire wish list from a certain website is in his box.  Yes, I am being sarcastic.  He is his mothers child.  I think he even did the shopping part of it, but it’s what he wanted, and when they are teens you go with what works.  I’m still banking on the fact that he will be at least a bit surprised as to our little holiday.  Holiday as in European for vacation, not that the actual date on the calendar being a holiday is a surprise.

The littles will get their Leapsters.  And I CANNOT wait.  They are driving me crazy with the one shared Gameboy.  Yes, there WERE three at one time.  But those things are 5 years old, and in terms of technology, extinct.  I played with one of the Leapsters the other day, just to make sure we were on target for interest.  Spot on.  I even had to force myself to put it down, I’m obsessive with technology, even when it’s for four year olds.

What?  Are the littles four or five?  You keep changing it.

I know.  I apologize.  Felpsy is five, the twins are almost five….I’m easing into having THREE five year old children.  We officially are out of the baby department at Target. Full on “Boys Department”, the Princess has been in the girls department for awhile.  But Boog was my lone hold out.

I found the most hilarious gag gift for Dagan.  But will not say anything as she has been known to stop by.

The only thing I have left to do is find six boxes that are big enough to hold what I’ve purchased for each of the kids.  They will be getting ONE present, (plus a ski vacation – so shut up).  They will also be getting gifts from grandparents, each other, CPS and our agency, at the very least, times all of that by six and you have quite a pile.

Although, this year the grandparents are pooling their money at our request to outfit us with Wii stuff.  Extra controllers, multi-player games, accessories that make it more fun like steering wheels and what not.  We should be set up when all is said and done.

We are not doing Santa this year.

My fantasy Christmas has always been no Santa, one REALLY cool gift per kid and the extended family getting a family gift.  Looks like I will get it this year.  It’s not that I am anti stuff.  I love stuff.  It’s just that Christmas is looking a lot like the lottery these days.  Write down your every whim and voila, there it is.  Ten minutes later there is nothing but a pile of trash and too many things for their small brains to process.  System overload and by the time the New Year rolls around, nothing is left but a big old overload hangover.

I would much rather get ONE thing for them that they enjoy for the entire year.  I would rather the extended family have their monies go to something for everyone to do together.  I don’t remember but three gifts from Christmas’ past.  Maybe, just maybe my kids will remember.  If not, I will blind side them with a snowball and try again next year.

Anyway, she wants to know what we are gifting ourselves this Christmas.

For me, I think I will be getting a Dooney.  Well, I and some generous contributors, thanks Omom!  That being said….I feel it is absolutely ridiculous to spend money on a purse to the point where there is nothing left to put inside it, but I bought a Dooney several years ago, on clearance and with a coupon.  I’m cheap like that.  I could literally carry that bag everyday for the rest of my life and it would be in as good of shape as it was the day I bought it.  So, I’m okay spending money on that.

Plus they go nicely with the new Uggs.

What, Uggs aren’t your gift to yourself?  No, and I will tell you why.  They are a necessity because we are going to Colorado for a week, where it is reported to be snowy and cold.  Yes, this is by design.  But it makes the boots a necessity.

But wait?  Isn’t the vacation a gift to yourself?

No.  It’s an OPPORTUNITY for the kids.  My babies have never seen snow, well, they did for four minutes last Friday, and once when they were 9 months old, but never got to experience it.  This trip is for that.

Also, WE’RE DEBT FREEEEE!  So, this is what you get to spend your money on when you don’t have a $400/month car payment.  When we get home, we will still be debt free.  So, even with a “job” that pays well below minimum wage (even based a 40 hour week) on my part and six kids, one in college, we can afford ski vacations, Uggs and I can still get myself a Dooney, with a little help from my friends.

This month we are talking Holiday Traditions.

Love them?  Hate them?  Have a co-dependant relationship with them?

I hadn’t really thought about it much until I became a foster parent.  Culturally speaking, yes.  Cake on birthdays, Santa at Christmas, Easter eggs and what not.  But the these are the traditions that are important to our family that other families don’t do?  Hadn’t really embraced them.

It was not until M, M and T came to live with us when I realized that Christmas would probably suck for them.  My kids would look forward or not to our particular bent.  Good or bad they knew what was coming.  They knew ham balls for dinner and one gift on Christmas Eve.  M, and T had no idea.  Other M was living elsewhere during Christmas, and in an even worse predicament.  These kids had spent five years in foster care, never in their life had they spent two consecutive Christmas’s in the same home.  Yet another reminder that they did not belong to anyone.  You can imagine their stress and reactivity.

When I was growing up we had tradition, I didn’t know that’s what it was called, but I knew that every Christmas we would do the same thing we did last Christmas.  We would walk across the driveway to the house of my father’s mother.  We would gather with the cousins on that side of the family and have soup and cocktail crackers, which as a kid was the highlight of my year.  We would open ONE present, the giver having been determined at a drawing held at the very same home on Thanksgiving.  There would be rice pudding after the festivities, which I NEVER once partook in, YUCK!  But was not allowed to say so, just politely decline.  We would beg to go home so that we could hang our look alike stockings by the chimney with care, put out milk and cookies and be in bed before Santa arrived at midnight.  The morning we would drag Ma & Pa out of bed for approximately 90 seconds worth of chaos of stockings and presents before heading out to our mother’s parents house for Christmas dinner.  We ate, we begged, we did dishes, we opened presents ate “Yucky Cookies” and fudge while playing games until we started again with the bugging for food as we had been too preoccupied with presents to eat a proper lunch.

And that was our Christmas.  Every. Single. Year.

When I got married the first time.  We did not establish one tradition.  I blame RAD for that, as The Ex was extremely so, although I did not have a label for it at the time.  Tradition meant he might belong, and belonging was just too much for him.

Tech Support had the idyllic (ish) childhood like I did.  Full of tradition and what not. When I married him I knew his traditions would become mine as well. Although I was appalled that their stockings hung long before Christmas Eve, and they didn’t match.  I mean really (eye roll).  They went to Christmas Eve services at church and drove around looking at Christmas lights.  They ate ham balls and contained themselves to immediate family.

As we made our own home and traditions, we took some of his, some of mine and made up our own.  These tradition have become part of our family over the years.  Tradition symbolic of his family.  My family.  Our family.

Christmas Eve dinner happens after Christmas Eve service, but not on Christmas Eve as our church has many services throughout the week before Christmas.  We have ham balls because they are down right delicious.  We invite the family that is made up of our friends and throw on a turkey breast for those who among us who are Kosher, because you do that for family, even when they aren’t related.

We haven’t firmly established our position on “Santa”.  We would like to not, but realize that he is such a big part of culture that it’s hard not too.  This year will be the first year we will definitely not.  I know it’s the right thing for our family, but still feeling nostalgic about it.  At least I won’t have the anxiety of knowing our stockings don’t match.

This may not fall under the category of tradition, but as soon as the turkey bird is off the table at Thanksgiving, it is acceptable to play Christmas music.  (I do it all year round, it only becomes acceptable at that point.)  I love singing Christmas songs, and what I lack in talent, I make up in enthusiasm.  Tech Support is fully to blame for that one, encouraging my enthusiasm all these years.

Mobile Christmas music is now allowed, but only during our nightly light looking expeditions.  Which we look so forward to because of Boogs infectious enthusiasm for that activity.

While I am sure that the kids have rolled their eyes and turned up their noses at some of these traditions, I don’t care. It’s what Christmas is to us.  Not the date on the calendar or the collective cultural or religious meanings.  It’s what sets us apart. These are the traditions that make our family ours.  The activities that our family does, in this way, at this time of year.  We incorporate the cultural and religious traditions, with some of his and some of mine.  What we end up with is something that is uniquely Awesome.

It’s an infectious kind of excitement that he has.

And now, we drive around looking at Christmas lights every night between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Even I look forward to it.  Me, who is not at all excitable about much.  I would like to be.  I really want to be.  I’m not.  If I go off keel, it’s always down.

What fun would hunting lights be without Christmas music?

Not much.

For the last two years our soundtrack has been Relient K ‘Let it Snow Baby, Let it Reindeer’.  The littles sing all the songs.  You’ll know  “Eat at Chelsea’s day oh”  of course I don’t think those are the real lyrics, but that’s what we sing.  I forget what my true love gave to me on the fifth day of Christmas, but it wasn’t golden rings.

This is the very reason I am glad we went out of our gene pool for our final three kids.  Love my kids, but they are just as boring as their parents.  Even keeled.

The littles, not so much.  Either up, way up.  Or down, way down.  I don’t enjoy the down so much.  But they have changed who we are, for the better.

So, if you are missing me, check out one of the neighvorhoods in the City by the Sea, we are looking at lights, singing wrong lyrics and trying to outdo each other with a “that’s what she said.”

And in the words of Randy from Earl, (which was great until they decided to go off the list).

Feliz Nabiblah.

Yesterday, the newly ordained driver loaded the truck with wood and we all caravanned out to the beach to meet up with some friends. The many large families of our church. You must have at least five children to join the group, but we do make exceptions for the ultra cool.

The evening began with a hunt for ghost shrimp, and playing in the waves, and catching fish and putting them in pools they’d dug on the beach. Then torturing the poor fish by catching them by hand. Then tossing ghost shrimp as high as you could to see if the sea gulls could catch them mid air.

They passed the time building sand castles and boogie boarding. There were a couple of attempts at the skim board, but that is really an acquired skill and must be practiced when girls are not around. Then the fire pit digging began. The official pit, and the many small ankle breaking pits the kids dug around the beach to “help”.

The first half hour of fire was not fun for a mom with many small children. Reminding the teenagers that jumping over the fire pit is not a good example. But eventually, they felt the fire and realized how close was appropriate.

As we were there to celebrate many birthdays, there was Shanda cake. Boog, who is rarely awake after 9 p.m. kept requesting to be taken home, but I wasn’t about to leave without the Shanda cake. So we stayed, and he lived.

Anyway, we had a great time. Leaving you with nothing hilarious and thought provoking this morning. My apologies, but I cannot turn into the crazy cat lady. There isn’t an allergy medicine strong enough to keep me alive.

No, this is not your sign to return to the mother ship.  Did anyone see Close Encounters?  Does anyone remember it?  I told you to go and watch it.  People started having visions of The Devil’s Tower and then felt compelled to get there, and they all turned out to be aliens or something.  I don’t know.  I don’t remember.

I grew up with this in my back yard.  Relatively speaking.  It was about an hours drive from my house.  And my parents loved to take us there.

I once walked from about where this picture was taken up to the monument with my grandma.  She didn’t particularly enjoy it, seems about half way there I decided I was afraid of heights.  Since everyone else had driven, she had no choice but to drag me up with her.  I wonder why she never took me again.  Mysteries from my youth.

Anyway, around the base of the monument is a trail, approximately 1.2 miles long.  My parents, hereafter referred to as the evil genius’s would “race” us around.  We would run around that thing and catch up to them and they’d have only gone like 1/16 of a mile.  Losers.  But then they’d get all cocky and challenge us again.  They had to repave the path annually just from the seven of us running around it.  Unfortunately, I was embarassingly old when I finally figured out that they were on a romantic walk while simultaneously trying to kill their children.  Don’t worry, I’m sure we were safe, it was the 70s and there weren’t any pedophiles yet.

And if you are getting all warm and fuzzy about the greenness you see.  Don’t.  You know the band Green Day?  I think they may secretly be from Wyoming.  I’d suggest you Google it, but they probably deny the fact.  Who else could know about the green day that happens but once a year there?

And if that wasn’t enough about my youth, this picture is courtesy of Sadie who took it on her family outing there.  She still lives there.  Apparently she must like her family.  Don’t worry that mine will be offended, they neither read me nor like me, so it’s ok.  Well, some of them read me, but they agree we are a screwed up bunch.  Comes from being mislead as youth.  (See paragraph four).   Anyway, Sadie was nice enough to give this to me, I think she takes great pictures.

That picture feels like home to me.

This morning I heard an interview about a guy and his girl who fought and worked in the war.  He in the Pacific fighting the Japanese and she building planes in Washington.  Very cool.

Now, their efforts afforded me the following today….

Took the little boys on a 1.5 mile walk this morning, had a breakfast picnic at the park.  Taught them the reasoning behind not feeding the seagulls until you are finished with your food.

CVS was again giving away lots of things, I took the opportunity to stock up on the Band Aids.  The kids love the Band Aids.  Also note, Band Aids is now marking their boxes in braille.  How cool is that?

I also learned today that Big Boy would like to die in such a manner that it requires a new law.  Luckily, sexting is already off the table.  I promised to fight diligently to avenge his death, thereby giving me a pass on parenting him any further.

Daddy took the kiddos to the pool, shocked, I know.  No, not really, we are always at the pool, and he is more than happy to take them so that I can have a zen moment alone in the house.  Upon returning, Princess was giving me the play by play where she mentioned “we had a great time, but we didn’t fix Boog’s heart”.

“Oh, really, what is wrong with Boog’s heart?”

“It keeps beeping.”

Well, actually that’s preferred.

Daddy also took all of the kids to the cemetery where we lay flowers on the graves of military men and women who served our country.  He’s such a good dad.

Felpsy fired Princess, from what I don’t know.  Princess took great offense and screamed.  When asked if she even knew what it meant to be fired, she replied,

“No, but he said it.”

We had a totally awesome meal, made by moi.

Everybody pitched in and cleaned up the kitchen and living room, so we could have a nice “burlaxing” evening.

Hung out on the driveway while the kids rode bikes and scooters, played ball and drew family portraits in chalk.  Fun times.

It was a great day, and I am so blessed to have this life.

Later, I’m going to appreciate it more when I watch the train wreck that is Jon and Kate.