The Christmas Interviews, Part Four: The Houdin Files

Mama: Are you having a good Christmas?
Houdin: Yeah. Other than infection.
Mama: What's your favorite gift this year?
H: Um...a present. It was a...um...the...lightsaber that you build, basically. It's pretty awesome.
M: What was the worst part about Christmas?
H: Um...I think I already said, being sick and having a, uh..what is it called?
M: A sinus infection.
M: What's the best gift you gave?
H: (long pause) Ummm...I gave cars to Monet but I didn't see him open them, with trading cards with them.
M: Was there anything you really, really, really wanted but you didn't get?
H: Oh, a pocket bike, but I wasn't expecting to get it.
M: Was there anything you didn't ask for that you're really glad you got?
H: Um...all the presents I got were really good, they weren't just "Oh, I think he might like this stuff..." It was really good stuff. So I like everything I got.
M: Was there anything you got that you don't like?
H: No. No. Nothing.
M: Do you remember any of the gifts you got last year?
H: Uh...dominoes, army soldiers, uh...was that the year I got Superman stuff? I can't remember anything other than that.
M: What can you do this year that you couldn't do last Christmas?
H: Um...I can ride a unicycle across the garage. I can do two chin-ups in a row, which is wimpy for my age anyway, so...
M: You can play piano.
H: Yeah, that too. And I can play a little on the guitar.
M: What do you hope to be able to do next Christmas that you can't do this year?
H: Um...I'd like to learn to play bass. Um...I'd like to get a job and buy a pocket bike. Learn a few more magic tricks.
M: What does Christmas mean to you?
H: Um...Not really much. It's just another holiday, I guess. I do appreciate celebrating the birth of Jesus, though.

The Christmas Interviews, Part Three: The Monet Files

Mama: Are you having a good Christmas?
Monet: Yeah. A really good Christmas.
Mama: What's your favorite gift this year?
Him: Probably pirates. The pirate set with the harpoon and the octopus.
M: What was the worst part about Christmas?
Him: Probably Dad having to drive someone and it took a long time.
M: What's the best gift you gave?
Him: Heroscape extension set which was to Houdin.
M: Was there anything you really, really, really wanted but you didn't get?
Him: The huge pirate set.
M: Was there anything you didn't ask for that you're really glad you got?
Him: Narnia soundtrack. No, no, no. And, uh, the pocketknife thing!
M: Was there anything you got that you don't like?
Him: These little cheap squirt guns.
M: Do you remember any of the gifts you got last year?
Him: Um...that big treehouse thing that had like string people.
M: What can you do this year that you couldn't do last Christmas?
Him: Um...play piano and guitar...um...is that it?
M: What do you hope to be able to do next Christmas that you can't do this year?
Him: Get a remote control car.
M: What does Christmas mean to you?
Him: Giving and taking.

The Christmas Interviews, Part Two: The Sweetheart Files

Mama: Are you having a good Christmas?
Sweetheart: Yes.
Mama: What's your favorite gift this year?
S: Well, I'm not sure. Everything. The books are pretty good. I like the one with the pictures, and I like the Barbies, too. And the Playmobil! I'm playing with them right now. I don't know what else to say.
M: What was the worst part about Christmas?
S: Um...I don't know. The devil.
M: What's the best gift you gave?
S: The markers for Monet. He likes those. He was just like, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
M: Was there anything you really, really, really wanted but you didn't get?
S: Well, I really wanted American Girls doll and a lamb, but I didn't get them, so I'm gonna save up my money and get them, so it doesn't really matter.
M: Was there anything you didn't ask for that you're really glad you got?
S: Well, Barbies. And books. But I don't know how to read. And Playmobil! That's what I didn't ask for.
M: Was there anything you got that you don't like?
S: Nothing. No. Nothing.
M: Do you remember any of the gifts you got last year?
S: I think I got a couple of Barbies. And I got Chocolate Oranges and lots of candies. And in our stockings, I think we got dolls. And clothes...pajamas. I don't know what else.
M: What can you do this year that you couldn't do last Christmas?
S: I don't know. Jumping on the trampoline.
M: What do you hope to be able to do next Christmas that you can't do this year?
S: Oh...get a pony and ride on it.

The Christmas Interviews, Part One: The Baby Files

Mama: Are you having a good Christmas?
The Baby: Uh huh. But my sister is not going to give me her toys.
Mama: What's your favorite toy?
The Baby: This. (holds up doll she wrangled away from her sister)
Me: What else are you doing?
The Baby: Being nice to my sister.
Me: Did you get any good clothes?
The Baby: Yes. Like this clothes. It's...uh...other clothes.
Me: What did you do last Christmas?
The Baby: Ran away. And there was a monster behind me.

Hillyer for Christmas

 

Houdin's Vintage Cordoroy Jacket

Time to Open Presents!

 

Christmas Morning Kids

...in their Christmas pajamas!

Christmas Collage

 

Finally! A Pocketknife!

 

Thank You!

 

Sisters

 

Christmas Bustle

 

Sweetheart on Christmas Morning

 

12:43 A.M.

It's officially Christmas.

The presents are wrapped and piled under the Christmas tree, a group effort since Mom is exhausted, Dad's back is acting up and Kids were quite anxious to help, anyway.

The children opened their Christmas pajamas and they all look just grand. Being the wonderful mother that I am, I washed them first; I even splurged on the Good Fabric Softener, so the jammies smell like lavender and vanilla. Quite yum.

Bard and Houdin wrote a new song, she on the guitar and he vocalizing. If I can get them to record it, I'll attempt to post it. It was a sweet song about their sister and her traveling adventures. Better than Ben Folds, I say.

And then Bo took over the guitar, playing a few Christmas carols while Bard, Houdin and I sang, thanks to a great little Christmas book I picked up at Sam's Club. It has all the verses to all the old Christmas carols.

And now, all of the children are piled, too, just like the gifts, but they're piled in front of the tellie, watching A Christmas Story with Bo. It's where I should be, too.

And so I will go.

But not before I wish you the very, very merriest of Christmasses ever. My love to all of you and blessings for the years to come.

For Lolly

I wish you well this Christmas day.
I wish you kindness, too.
I hope for you to know what's right
And hope that's what you'll do.

I pray that everything will fall
Exactly into place,
and that each person you do meet
Will find Peace on your face.

I wish you Love this Christmas day,
the Love that's true and real--
a Love that fills your heart so full
with Joy you can't conceal.

Merry Christmas, Lolly. May God bless you richly this season and always.

Grandma Max

January 11th, 1921-December 22nd, 2005

Our family was blessed by your presence in our lives.

Stream of Consciousness Before Running Off to the Cheesehouse

Don't like to go to work.
Wish I could stay home.
Won't do this again next year.
Too much stress.
People can be so mean.
And confused.
And confusing.
It's not worth it,
no matter how much it would pay.
It's not right to trade Christmas for money.
I haven't baked cookies.
I haven't made candies.
Bo and I were up until 1:30 wrapping presents.
He asked if I feel better (than what? more on that later) after wrapping presents.
I don't.
This has been one of the most disheartening Christmasses ever.
I don't know if I spelled "Christmasses" correctly.
Our advent calendar isn't even half done.
We didn't read any Christmas stories.
We didn't go caroling.
Three of the kids have been sick.
The baby had a fever for five days.
I haven't caught it yet.
Neither has Bo, Monet or Bard.
Will we be sick for Christmas?
I still have presents to make and buy.
I still have no money and no time.
Our tree is up.
Some of our decorations are up.
My house is a mess.
There are no groceries in the fridge, which really needs to be cleaned.
Good thing: Bard cleaned the kitchen and piano room yesterday.
There had been HUGE cobwebs on the ceiling.
She also did five loads of laundry. Maybe more.
I took her to Wal*Mart.
We bought wrapping paper and Christmas cards.
She made me laugh a lot, because that's how she is. Very funny.
Funny, funny Bard.
I have to go.
I don't want to.
But I have to.
God bless us. Every one.

What They REALLY Look Like

 

Skating with Daddy

 

Unexpected Blessings.

Happy Housewife, I truly do not deserve your friendship! You are kind and thoughtful and wonderful and amazing. You are truly one of the world's natural wonders.

Everything...the package sitting atop my snowy mailbox, the beautifully wrapped box with the shiny packing grass inside, the lovely peppermint-striped tissue paper,and the thoughtful blue warmth of a gift that peeked through the paper all made me feel very loved and appreciated.

Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for the silky soft, handknit shawl and shawl pin, my initial surrounded by acorns. I love them! My family surrounded me while I opened them and gasped with glee! I'm wearing them even now and hope to get a photo later so I can show the world how much I'm loved.

My very deepest thanks. I'm in awe of you.

ABC News: 16-Year-Old Wins Science Scholarship

ABC News: 16-Year-Old Wins Science Scholarship

What Color Are Your Underwear?

The other day while we were out Christmas shopping, The Baby had her first little accident since forsaking diapers. While she stood in a puddle guarded by husband Bo, I ran to get paper towels from the bathroom and some replacement undies. I scurried her out to the car, along with my six-year-old daughter Sweetheart.

"What kind of underwear did you get her?" Sweetheart asked.

"Tinkerbell," I answered.

"Awww! Bard (the fifteen-year-old daughter) would love those! Too bad they she can't have any."

"Why can't she have any?" I wondered aloud.

"Because they don't make them in big people size. When you get old, all you can wear is white underwear."

Bo and I cracked up. Appearing confused by our laughter, Sweetheart demanded, "What? What are you laughing at? It's TRUE!"

The Blog of Bonnie J.

If you haven't yet done so, please check out The Blog of Bonnie J, prespectives from a homeschooling teen. I explored it tonight and was completely hooked when I saw these photos:





Well, Houdin, looks like you'd better get crackin' with the unicycle!

Lil Sis and Lil Niece

Lil Sis, my husband's youngest sister, is a frequent visitor to this blog; I've known her since she was just six months old, right around the time I first met my husband Bo; he had invited me to his house to go sledding and Lil Sis was a babe in her mother's arms.

Now she has a sweet little darling of her own; how blessed I am that she chooses to come and visit us from Illinois, that I am able to witness even a few precious moments of her motherhood. I thank God for you, Lil Sis, and I'm grateful for your friendship. 

A Resale Christmas

This Christmas season, money is tighter than it's ever been before. I mean, yeah, we have this wonderful house and we have five fantastic children, but our cars are falling apart and our bills are falling behind.

I'm not a big shopper. I don't really care to go to malls an spend all day and all my money (well, I guess it wouldn't take me all day to spend all my money) just to shop. There are really only a couple of times a year that I do like to shop; Bard's annual birthday shopping trip with a couple of her friends (our equivalent of school clothes shopping) and Christmas.

I love buying stuff for other people, and, gosh, can I help it if I find just a few perfect things for me, too, while I'm there? After all, my husband isn't a shopper either, so most Christmas mornings leave me very little under the tree from my darling soulmate. He has, much to his credit, outdone himself on several occasions, though. But I feel a bit more secure if I wrap up, say, a really good vintage book or an herb and onion chopper to open on Christmas day.

I can't help it. I love the festivity of shopping at Christmas time. I love the hustle and bustle, the lights, the music and...okay, okay! I admit it! I love all the stuff!

But this year, the stuff just ain't gonna happen, so I'm approaching Christmas a bit differently.

It's a resale Christmas.

That's right. Goodwill. eBay. Save-n-Serve. The used bookstores. The antique shop.

And ya know what? I find that I'm having much more fun. Scouring the shelves of Books In Stock for just the right tome for one of my bookloving children and sifting throught the racks of duds for my newly fashion-conscience son Houdin has been a real blast. And I've found some of the best bargains--bags of Beanie Babies for The Baby for a buck each, way mobie cool retro ties for fifty cents, and other cool things that I can't tell you about at this time because little blog readers have big eyes. And I've found a few awesome things for me, too, like my lime-green boiled wool coat with a mink collar for THREE DOLLARS! It so very looks like it's been in careful storage since the day it was purchased!

Sure, there are still a few things coming from retail stores, things that were specifically requested but can't be purchased at Goodwill, and the annual gift of cheese that goes to friends and family, but the majority of my gift-giving is going to be from shopping resale.

And yes, the kids know. And, yes, they're cool with it.

In years past, we've spent more than we could afford, upwards of $2,000. But this year I've only spent a bit over $200. I'm nearly done, too.

I feel good about this. I had veered away from resale shopping at one time because it seemed like too much work with little ones in tow, but now I'm hooked again.

What's best is that I feel very little guilt and only a minor need to walk through the doors of Target. Ah, well. Old habits die hard.

Family Photo

 
 

Thanksgiving Weekend

 
 

Touring Ensemble

If you click on the photo to the left, you'll be taken to a fifteen-second clip of Christmas Lullabye. Bard is the one with pigtails in the second to the top row.

Young Men's Ensemble

If you click on the photo to the left, you'll go to a fifteen-second video clip of the Houdin's concert last night.

Christmas Photo

On Saturday, Bard, Houdin and Monet had a choir concert. It's the one time of the year when we really get into the festive spirit, dress up and bundle for the cold. Then, it's off to the concert where we're treated to two hours of wonderful music. Sweetheart went with us this time, and she's really looking forward to joining the choir this Summer. Bard has been singing with the choir for eight years and has taken several in-country and two international tours--Italy and China--and rumor has it that the next large tour in 2007 will be to Hawaii! Houdin is singing his first year with the Young Men's Ensemble. He got lots of "oohs" and "ahhs" from the ladies. :-) Mr. Lorah, our music appreciation teacher, blessed us with his presence for the evening. It was great to have him there because the kids aren't often represented by grandparents or other family members and sometimes they feel a little left-out when so many of the other choir members have lots of family in attendance. They were so happy to see David Lorah stand up when Dr. J called for music teachers to stand.

We ended the evening with a very fun dinner out at Luigi's, a nationally know pizza place in Northeast Ohio. We shared good laughs and excellent food with Houdin's friend-who-is-a-girl's parents (he's only fourteen and still plays with lightsabers, so he can't have a girlfriend yet ) and then drove home in the snow for the hour and a half it takes to get back to our cozy house on the hill.

More photos to follow. 

The Tale of Two Certificates, Part The First

And now I will tell you the Tale, Best Beloved, of the Two Certificates. It is a wondrous story, and I do believe you'll like it most greatly.

A lovely girl, not much older nor much younger than yourself, Best Beloved, stumbled upon the month of November and the busyness contained therein. She found that such a month ushers in so many opportunities and activities that she could scarcely choose just one, and so, as many do when faced with several delightful choices, she chose many.

What activities did she choose, you're wondering? Well, indeed, that's a very fine thing to wonder! Before I tell you, however, I hasten to say that not all of the activities did she choose. Some of them very simply, dare I say, chose her.

For instance, that of Thanksgiving. Best Beloved, you know what an enigma food can be; well, in the days of this young girl, whom we shall henceforth call Bard, there was a Special Day set aside to feast and give thanks, and then to feast some more with a little less thanks, and then the feasting continued and the thanks diminished until there was no more food nor thanks left, and only the very bones of the turkey remained, out of which Bard's mother would craft a most delicious Turkey Carcass Soup. You really must try it, Best Beloved, should you ever happen upon it. It has a simplicity that somehow carries with it all of the Thanks that had been lost in those final days of Feasting.

The days leading up to Thanksgiving were filled with their own busyness which included Bard's preparations of delicious foods with names like Cheesecake and Pickle Wraps and Cranberry Sauce. And there, of course, was cleaning, Best Beloved, which you know full well about, being the fine helper that you are.

Yet more activities, aside from the cleaning of the dwelling and the preparation of foods for the day of feasting and the visiting of relatives, surrounded Bard's busy month; but, alas, these were things which occupied Bard of her own choosing and those things were numbered many. Have you ever, Best Beloved, found yourself presented with so very many good choices that you simply couldn't force yourself to choose just one or two or maybe even three? Well, this is where our dear girl, Bard, who was not much younger nor much older than you, found herself.

For the month of November carried with it leftovers of quite a different sort, which were continuations of Very Important Classes, such as Algebra and Philosophy and Biology and Speech Club and Drama of two different flavors and a beautiful Choral Ensemble, to which Bard's voice was added to bring forth the sweetness of many other voices.

Now, Best Beloved, I know that you have your own learning to do, and you must know that these November Leftovers were in addition to Bard's regular lessons, which included piano pieces and guitar strumming and delightful readings of the works of Sir Winston Churchill and C.S. Lewis and Mortimer J. Adler and Richard Halliburton, and it is this last, my Dear One, that inspired a November choice for Bard which was most difficult for her to resist.

A funny challenge existed among writers in those times, and surely you will find it queer, as many did even during The Day of it, but still it existed, and for the fact that it is most essential to this tale, I will explain it to you.

But not, Best Beloved, at this time, for I'm sure that you have busyness of your own to which you must attend, as do I, and while I would like nothing more than to sit here for all of the days telling tales to you, I cannot. So, scurry on, and return back later, and we will continue our tale.

For the Man who Loves Cheese More than Life

I thought about you today.

A lot, actually.

I thought about how important your cheese must be to you; that's the only explanation I can imagine.

It had been a rough day for me, for all of us in the office, but you didn't know that. How could you have? You had much more important things on your mind, and you had no time for niceties and pleasantries.

While I was taking a phone order from a very kind woman, one of my coworkers came to my side. A problem, she said. He's furious, she said. I had to put the kind woman on hold so that I could answer your insistent call.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. Can I put you on hold for a minute?"

"It's okay. Take your time, Honey," she said, not knowing that I was leaving the sweetness of her voice for the harsh impatience of yours.

"You people need to get your act together," you spat. "We've been ordering for years and this is the second time you've screwed up our order!"

You didn't see the irony in this, I'm sure.

"I'm sorry, Sir," I responded, thinking of the teachings I give my children, how I instruct them to show respect to their elders. I believe that people can be won over by respect and kindness, that behavior breeds behavior. I don't think you share that philosophy. Still, I showed you respect. I'm to do unto others as I would have them do unto me.

Not AS they do unto me.

"I was supposed to get two cases of cheese, and you only sent one! This is unforgivable!"

"Sir, I apologize, and I'll gladly send your order tomorrow. You'll recieve it by Friday." Most people would find, at this point that the situation had been resolved. I think you just wanted to be angry. Maybe your day had been worse than mine.

"You screwed up my order last year, too, and you said you'd replace the cheese for free..."

"I understand, Sir. Did we replace your cheese?"

"Well, yeah, but...that's not the point. The point is, your company needs to get its act together."

"Sir, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make this right. What would you like me to do?"

"Well, I...well, you can.... Well, just send the cheese, but this is ridiculous. I don't know what's wrong with you people, but you need to get it fixed."

"Yes, Sir. We'll send that cheese out tomorrow, then. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

I heard a disgruntled "harumph." I could feel that you were attempting to conjure more reasons to be angry. I don't think you found any.

I will send your order. I will not charge you shipping. I will send a complimentary wheel of cheese to you, and I will include an apology. "We forgot to ship your cheese. We're very sorry. Can you ever forgive us?" You will probably open the box, smugly, and applaud yourself for being a Man.

Honestly, I don't even remember how the conversation ended. I just wanted to be rid of you. Is that your general affect on people? I do hope you were just having a bad day. Then again, I remember how angry you were last year when we only sent you one case of cheese. Maybe you were having a bad day, then, too.

I hung up the phone and saw that line one was still blinking. When I picked it up, that dear woman was still waiting, patiently.

"I'm very sorry about that, Ma'am," I said, trying to focus on her while mentally processing the conversation I had with you.

"Oh, that's alright, Honey. I'm sure you're very busy..."

And I went on taking her order, listening to her pleasant voice and her polite demeanor.

But all the while, I was still thinking of you.

Homeschool Blogger Awards

Spunky over at Spunky Homeschool is hosting the Homeschool Blogger Awards. If you have a favorite homeschooling blogger you'd like to nominate or vote for, head on over to Spunky's place and check out the information.

A Circle of Quiet: Remembering

I love to read as I eat. I don't know if this is a learned characteristic, or if it's genetic, or programmed by eating in front of one-too-many cereal boxes, but when I sit down to take in a meal, I almost always have to have some kind of reading material in front of me, generally a magazine, catalog or other fru-fru type media because I can't concentrate completely on both words and food. So, here at work, I've just sat down to my desk to eat my lunch--an Amish Butter Cheese sandwich and cheese fries--and I decided it would be a good time to catch up on the lives of my favorite bloggers.

One of my very first blog visits is always A Circle of Quiet. Her blog is a feast for the eyes and the heart, and I always feel encouraged and warm after visiting her, taking a glimpse through the window that she provides.

Today, I read her post titled "Remembering" and it struck such a deep chord with me. I have much to think about over lunch now and many tears to hold back as I eat and sit within the semi-private local of my office.

Thanks, Circle of Quiet, for a very thought-provoking post.

Country Football

Bo gathered the kids, some visitors and a few neighbors for a game of fall football. The field was literally a field, complete with horses and their emissions.

Our kids don't really play football; they didn't know the rules and Bard complained the next day of being very sore.

But it was fun to watch. 

The Baby

 

On Being Appreciated

When I walked through the door yesterday, they all waved and smiled at me. "Hello! We've missed you! We're so glad you're back!" A big hug, a pat on the back, an offer of a cup of coffee.

It almost makes me feel like they like me. Like they appreciate me. Like I'm actually wanted here--needed.

This is what greeted me on my first day back at the cheesehouse for the holiday season.

Okay, so it's a little different from the greetings I heard when I returned home.

"What did you bring me?"

"I was only trying to do my lessons! And he just came up and--WHACK!--punched me in the face! For NO REASON!"

"Can I have something to eat?"

"Finally, you're home. Can I leave now?"

To be fair, there are some similarities, too. I did get big hugs. They did tell me they missed me. And I think my husband even offered me a cup of coffee. Or maybe that was on Monday.

I also have to be honest. I didn't really want to work this season. Our lessons at home have been going so well, and even though I'm organized, having printed weekly schedules for those who need it and creating a balance between everyone's precarious schedules so that an adult is always present, and all chores are covered, at least theoretically, I didn't really want to add the big rush of leaving for eight hours a day to my home life.

But this is such a great place to work that I do truly enjoy it. From here, I can hear the clip-clopping of horses' hooves on the pavement outside my window, and the bell-tower chiming lovely, peaceful music. I get a Christmas bonus and a very, very nice Christmas banquet.

And, of course, there's always the cheese.

I wouldn't want to do this all the time, I don't think; work away from home, though it's not that far away.

It is, however, a nice change of pace.

For those of you SAHM, do you ever enter the work world?

Do you remember what life was like in your pre-SAHM world?

What are the biggest differences?

Do you miss it?

Sign me...Cheese Girl

It's CHEESE, Gromit!

It's around this time of the year that I get a bit peckish, longing for a nip of garlic cheddar, montery jack or even a bit of horseradish cheese. You can find me raiding the cooler for a baggie of cheese tidbits, tasty morsels that will sustain me throughout the day and and give me fodder for my daily dose of Dr. Pepper.

It's Christmas at the Cheesehouse again.

Every year for the past five years (except for the year I was pregnant with The Baby), I have been working in the mail order room of one of our local cheese manufacturers. This is a great fit for me. I LOVE cheese. I've often said that I could exist on bread, fruit and a little smidgen of something dairy--gorgonzola, harvarti, gruyere, smoked cheddar, baby swiss, sharp cheddar. I could even, if I had to, forgo my Dr. Pepper if I could keep my sour cream, Double Gloucester and my real butter.

So, this season, I'm delighted. Cheese all around me. Completely at my disposal. On a whim, I can sample some of the world's finest cheeses. I can even order a hot sandwich--thick bread with Amish butter cheese, a patty melt dripping with butter, thick-cut steak fries smothered in sharp cheddar. Isn't it sinful?

I have to admit that my intention today was to avoid the temptation of all that extra fat by bringing in a bottle of ice water and a lunch bag of almonds, trail mix and fruit. After all, I just sit here all day. Sit, talking on the phone to people from all around the globe who love cheese. Who order cheese. Who talk about cheese.

I made it all of seven hours today before caving. I simply must...have...my...tidbits.

To offset the impending damage, I'm hoping, planning, determined to walk to work. It will definitely be a challenge during these Ohio winters, but I think it's going to be necessary. There's a spiral staircase leading up to my little corner of cheeseworld, and if I'm not careful, I may not fit. Could be a touch painful upon reentry.

Over the next few weeks, I'll be grabbing a moment here and there to blog about life in the cheesehouse, what it's like to be a SAHM tinkering around in the working world, and what the damage is when I return home.

In the meantime, will you join me for a taste of fondue? Maybe a cracker with a smidgeon of Boursin? Or how about Mirabo Walnut...?