Monday, December 15, 2014

Stage Fright

About twice a week, I am treated to a loud and joyful concert by our two year old. She sings proudly with genuine excitement and often, surprisingly, on key. It's beautiful noise that stops me in my tracks and puts a smile on my face.

Cute, no?

Unfortunately for me, most of these loud and joyful concerts usually take place when said two year old is supposed to be napping.

So, smile on my face, but fear in my heart because, oh God, are we are approaching no naps?

Somebody hold me. Or, better yet,  hold HER-rock her to sleep-sing her a lullaby! Anything! We CANNOT give up naps yet.


As I was saying, for the last month and a half during "nap time" she has been perfecting her preschool's Christmas pageant song, "Away In a Manger." For an hour or so a day, she would sing about the little Lord Jesus laying down his sweet head. She knew every single word of the song and she sang it LOUD. It was adorable and the reason why I could hardly contain my excitement for her first ever Christmas pageant.

On the day of her performance, we dressed her in her red holiday velvet and headed off to church with our cameras  ready to capture all of the adorableness.

Well maybe not all of it......

Shortly before her class was to take the stage, while sitting in the middle of a quiet church, Mila loudly declared she needed to poop.

Of course she did.

Five minutes later, business taken care of, Mila joined her class on stage already midway through "Away in a Manger." I ducked down in the front row and pulled my phone out hoping to proudly catch her loud and adorable voice belting out the second half of the song.

But she did nothing. NOTHING. Despite months of private dress rehearsals, she did not speak a word on stage. She also didn't smile on stage. Or move.

That's her-front left-adorable red velvet dress, no smile on her face and no songs coming from her mouth and frozen in place.

Still cute, but.....

Perhaps she was aware of how ridiculously cute she looked just standing there and didn't want to risk making it any more adorable by singing too.

Or, maybe she was tired from her lack of napping.

She did manage to give us a private performance later that day at, yep, you guessed it-nap time.

PS: Mila also had her first ever dance recital this week where she was able to sing and dance on stage.  Her curtsy at the end was with her back to the audience and slightly resembled an attempt to moon us. I guess she's worked through her stage fright.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Like Father, Like Son

In 1998, when Daddy graduated from high school, he was named best athlete of his graduating class. It's an accolade he won't let us (or anyone he meets on the street) forget. Its clear to us that Tyson, at the ripe age of 5, is already following in Daddy's footsteps.

Already a multi sport athlete, he excels at hockey, basketball and football. Not one to limit his talents, he also dabbles in golf, baseball, wrestling, soccer and tennis. We're happy he's keeping all of his doors open and hoping for a contract (any contract!)that will help pay for our retirement.

Just a few weeks ago, Coach Pitino of the Minnesota Gopher basketball team asked for his assistance on the court.


At 41 inches tall, his layup percentage was poor, but he never missed a dunk.

Thankful for his help, the team invited him back to watch their first home game. He was a bit confused as to why the players didn't recognize him, but we explained it was good to keep a low profile.

His quick feet on the court have also proven useful in his backyard football games against Daddy where he consistently wins by at least 145 points. Yes, you read that right-145 points against North St. Paul's 1998 Athlete of the Year. Pretty impressive stats if you ask me.

He has also inherited the art of armchair quarterbacking from his Daddy.  Every Sunday you can find him on the couch yelling at the Vikings to "Get the Packers!" We've tried to explain that the Vikings don't always play the Packers, but are hesitant to squash his staunch disdain of Cheeseheads.

His hockey talents have also continued to amaze all (2) of his fans. Despite actually being smaller than his hockey bag, Daddy says he is one of the fastest skaters on the ice. Apparently this stems from his ability to stay low to the ground when he skates which, despite how it might appear from the stands, is not the same thing as staying on the ground. Just yesterday he told me he was looking forward to his first "real" hockey game so he could "crush up the other team." Obviously.

All this to say, Stillwater class of 2028, you better start working out if you expect to beat  Tyson for best athlete-he's got good genes working in his favor.

PS: Daddy was also the runner up for best hair in his graduating class. Looks like Tyson is going to one-up him on this one. Touche, Daddy.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Santa and Sass

My mom warned me that dealing with sass was an integral part of having a daughter. She cautioned me about the defiance, reminded me of my own back talk and advised me to prepare for the eye rolls.

I guess I just didn't realize it would start so early. Like today. At the ripe age of 2.

This morning, because I believe in cruel and unusual forms of parental torture, I took the kids to the Mall of America to see Santa. By myself.

It's ok, you can laugh.

Our day started off swimmingly. We took in the free performance of Rudolph in the rotunda, colored at the Disney store and took this adorable pictures in front of their giant Christmas trees.

Don't let that sweet smile fool you.

As we waited in line to see Santa,  I wasn't even anticipating the sass that Mila was about to throw down to the innocent bystander behind us.

Sweet Lady in Line: "Oh I bet you two are excited to go see Santa!"
Tyson: "We are!"
Mila: "I'm not..." (please read in the most annoying whiny sing-song voice you can imagine)
Sweet Lady in Line: "What are you going to tell Santa you want for Christmas?"
Tyson : "I'm going to ask for more Legos"
Mila: "I want a GETTHAT!"

************We interrupt this story to bring you the story of "GetThat." "GetThat" is a (usually dirty) lovie that Mila has slept with since birth. It was also one of her first word(s?). Since just over a year old she has referred to her lovie as "GetThat" and we have lovingly complied. Looking back, this probably was a strong indicator of the amount of sass she possesses.********************

Sweet Lady in Line: "Oh! You want a cabbage patch?"
Sweet Lady in Line: "A what, honey?"
Mila: "A GETTHAT!"

Sweet Lady in Line looks to me for an explanation. I mumbled the above story as my cheeks turn red.

Sweet Lady in Line: "Ohhh. Well, wow. You certainly have a lot of sass in that one, don't you?"

You have no idea, sweet lady. No idea.

And just think, Sweet  Lady in Line didn't even get to witness Mila rolling her eyes at Santa a few minutes later.

I'm saving this picture so I know there is someone who can commiserate with me in a few short years.

On a bright note, sass still looks cute on a 2 year old.

Monday, December 1, 2014

Chippy 2014

Prior to getting married, I was told I needed to register for China. It was, apparently, a requirement of marriage. A necessity. As a 27 year old who frequented such fine establishments such as Chili's and Applebee's, I was faintly aware that China referred to fancy plates of which we were to eat off of. I was even more faintly aware of the price of said China.

We searched high and low for China. Oh, who am I kidding, I searched high and low for China. Dan didn't give two shits. I scoured the Internet and visited multiple stores searching for the perfect China.

Afterwards,  I would meet Dan at Chili's to discuss my findings.

We (read I) finally decided on the perfect place settings. They were simple, yet classic. Timeless and elegant. Everything China is supposed to be, I'm sure.

To date, we've been married 6 years and 4 months. We've used our China three times total. It's sat on our table for less time than I spent searching for it.

Even more pathetic? Each of the three times I've hauled out (and dusted off) our China has been for our Elf on a Shelf, Chippy.

Not exactly the special occasions I imagined I would need the required China for.

Elf on a Shelf season is quite possibly my least favorite time of the year. It's stressful and exhausting and it stretches my highly uncreative mind to all of it's limits-I mean I dusted off China for this foot tall visitor. I also spent over four hours (ahem) hand painting a sleigh for him to arrive on.

Yes, I've questioned my sanity.

Thankfully, the looks on their faces when they saw Chippy in his pint sized sleigh and their tiny donut snowman on our beautiful China made it (mostly)all worth it.

Happy Elf on a Shelf season. If you need me I'll be busy stringing lights around our toilet, hanging underpants on the tree and attempting other elf feats.