my name is rozanne and i’m NOT an alcoholic.

(Warning: Super-Long Post ahead…this is for ME to remember so skip this if you are not in the mood to read a long-winded story.)

Here is another example of how life throws you curveballs, hands you lemons, and gives you a gray cloud when you least expect it.

This was the original plan for one of our weekends this December:

Have family movie night on Friday night.  Go to bed fairly early.  Wake up early Saturday morning.  Drive to #1’s volleyball tournament (about an hour away) with my dad (Ever-Patient and #1 would leave earlier to ensure they would get there on time).  Enjoy a day watching volleyball with our family.  Stop by my in-laws on the way home to celebrate my father-in-law’s 62nd birthday with a yummy dinner and possibly some cake.  Chill out on Sunday at home by watching some football, making some teacher gifts, and catching up on what else?  Laundry.

This is what actually happened:

Friday night went according to plan.  #2 and I had some alone time together as she accompanied me while I ran out to take care of some errands and then we had a nice family dinner early so we could enjoy a DVD and turn in early.  Early Saturday morning, Ever-Patient and #1 left early, as scheduled, and my dad came by to pick the rest of us up for the long drive up north to the tourney.

It was during the drive that things started to veer off course.

After a fairly uneventful 45 minutes in the car (although some may differ in the opinion that #3 singing along to the Black Eyed Peas is uneventful),  I began to feel a bit of cramping in my stomach.  Within minutes, as I began to break into a cold sweat, the cramping morphed into excruciating pain.  I unbuckled my seat belt and put my head between my legs hoping beyond hope that maybe if I could just squeeze the pain away.  (I’m obviously not trained medically whatsoever.)

At this juncture, the kids are all talking to me at once asking if I’m ok.  I try my best to yell as calmly as I can, “Shhhh! Stop talking right now!”  Yelling hurts.  Talking hurts.  Moving hurts.  Just breathing hurts.  My dad suggests we pull over somewhere so I could go to the bathroom and see if that will relieve the pain.  He frantically looks for some sort of fast food restaurant.  Again, let me remind you we are now almost an hour away from home, a couple minutes away from the tournament, and in unfamiliar territory.  However, there is now dead silence in the car  – a miraculous achievement for anyone who has ever been in a car with 4 children between the ages of 7 weeks and 6 years old.

We spot a Subway Sandwich place and I am sure I look as awful as I feel.  I run in, clutching my stomach and breathing heavily, I ask, “Bathroom?”  The scared shitless teenager pointed in one direction and I stumbled towards it unsure of how going to the bathroom would alleviate my suffering.  I spent the next 5 minutes throwing up in a toilet in a washroom in a Subway in a small town wondering if this was all for real.  The pain remained intense.  I sat on the floor and could not get up.  I remembered that my poor father had 4 small children with him in the car with probably at least one crying their lungs out.  I held my breath as I clutched my stomach and ran out of there (I was thinking that breathing would make the pain worse – again, I am obviously not medically trained). I opened the passenger side of the car.  In a frenzy, I emptied one of the plastic bags carrying our snacks and water.  It was like the pain was taunting me, “I am going to make you hurl woman!”

I crumpled in the seat with my head leaning on the middle console.  The kids were still silent.  I told my dad to drive me to my mom’s house which was about 25 minutes away and then realized she was in L.A. and told him to head to my in-laws.  I wasn’t sure how this would medically help me.  I think I really just was concerned about the kids and lying down on a floor somewhere.  In the end, my dad made an executive decision and took me to the nearest hospital.  Besides the sound of vomiting, there was nothing.  The kids had thought that making any noise was making the pain worse.  I can’t imagine what they were thinking or feeling as they watched me heave and struggle to cope.

We get to the hospital and my dad pulls up to the front of emergency.  He grabs a wheelchair and wheels me in to triage leaving all the kids in the car.  Although I am still consumed with pain, I somehow have the wherewithal to remember to grab my health card out of my wallet (after minutes of cursing trying to locate it since I carry 6 health cards in there) and talk to the triage nurse as I send my father back out to the kids.  I’m conscious.  I know my name.  GO TO THE KIDS.

My head is on the nurse’s desk.  My eyes are closed.  Each breath is laboured.  I am starting to unconsciously grunt.  She says, “So on a scale of 1-10, I’m assuming your pain is a 9/10?”  I nod politely although I am thinking in my head, “No shit sherlock.” She rushes me into a room.  I tell her that I have to nurse #5 soon and wonder how the logistics will work.  She tells me she’ll bring the baby in and not to worry.  Bless her heart.  All I can do now is worry.  How will my dad handle the 4 kids in an emergency waiting room?  Will they touch everything in sight?  What if they get hungry?  What if one has to go to the bathroom while another is having a tantrum?  My mind is going in circles which in the end was a good thing as it helped distract from the pain for brief moments.  The pain begins to dissipate a little bit.  It is not blinding anymore but I am still very uncomfortable.

My dad brings #5 to me for a feed and I assume that the nurses were watching #2, #3, and #4 although I never confirmed that tidbit.  After I nurse, I tell him to take the kids to my in-laws so that he can focus on taking care of #5 and because I don’t want them in emerg – a veritable petri dish of germs.  I can see he is torn because he doesn’t want to leave me alone but knows I’m right about what is best for the kids.  I am also torn.  Do I call Ever-Patient and let him know what’s going on when I don’t even know what’s going on?  Or do I wait?  I had an initial visit from a doctor who at first asked me a number of questions regarding alcohol consumption and proceeded to prescribe some gravol to manage the pain, they’ve taken my blood, a urine sample, and am now awaiting a visit to x-rays.  I know nothing new though I am just grateful the pain has subsided a bit.

I tell my dad to make the call to Ever-Patient just for the reason that if the roles were reversed, I would want to know what was going on.  My dad tries to call.  No signal.  What God-forsaken place are we in?  No cell signal??  He tries to text and nothing.  Lovely.  He leaves and I am alone, wondering again if this is all for real.  (Actually, I am not alone.  I am sharing a room with an elderly gentleman and we are separated by a super-thin curtain and I am fortunate enough to hear every cough, snort, and moan he makes.)

After a few hours, my father returns with #5 who is famished.  I nurse him and hand him back.  I ask about the girls and he assures me they’re fine, fed, and happy.  I am relieved.  My father’s phone rings.  A miracle!  It is Ever-Patient in a panic wondering what the heck is going on. He received an obscure text message from his brother that read:  “Did you know Rozanne is in emerg?”  I speak to him and reassure him that I’m feeling better but don’t know anything and am still awaiting someone to come get me for x-rays.  I tell him to stay put and I will call him once I know something.  Of course, the man doesn’t listen and he calls back a few minutes later saying he’s on his way but he hasn’t told #1 who is currently on the court playing a game.  He relinquished his coaching duties to a willing parent and made arrangements for #1’s godfather, who came to watch that day and whom #1 hasn’t seen in maybe 5 years, to take her back to my in-laws. On one hand, I am happy he is coming to be with me as I am feeling anxious about my situation but on the other hand, I am concerned that he has left our oldest daughter behind.

My father is now sitting on the edge of my hospital bed holding the sleeping baby.  He keeps shifting his weight in discomfort.  I feel awful that we are here, stuck in this makeshift hospital room, and I feel helpless as I curl into an even tighter fetal position.  I finally get x-rays done.  As the doctor walks in, he is looking down at my chart, and asks me if I am a “heavy drinker” only to look up and see me nursing the baby.  I give him an obvious “No, I don’t drink at all” look and he is still waiting for an answer as if to doubt that I am telling the truth.  “No, I don’t drink any alcohol nor have I had any drink for over a year now.” He tells me that there are no obstructions like gall stones or kidney stones though he thinks that I had an attack of acute pancreatitis and an added bonus – a urinary tract infection (and my bloodwork also shows I am anemic – what’s new?).  He orders fluids and antibiotics to be given intravenously and says I have to stay over at least one night for observation to have an abdominal ultrasound the next day.  And oh yes, nothing to eat OR drink until after the ultrasound of which the time is still uncertain.  Just to remind you, I haven’t eaten or drank anything for the last 6 hours at this point in time.  In fact, I threw up most of what was left in my stomach a few hours earlier.  I ask the doctor if the baby can stay with me overnight and he makes arrangements for me to stay on the maternity ward so that Ever-Patient will be able to stay overnight with me as well.  After the doctor leaves, the nurse sets up the IV, and I ask her what’s with all the “heavy drinker” questions.  She tells me that normally they treat old men who are alcoholics for this condition.  I really can’t believe how random my life can be.

It has been about an hour since I’ve spoken to Ever-Patient and I begin to worry since the hospital is only 10 minutes away from #1’s tournament.  Then it hits me.  When we spoke, I never mentioned which hospital I was in.  He probably assumed I was in the hospital that is close to my in-laws since I mentioned that the kids were there.  Crap.  Almost immediately after this thought, my father’s phone rings.  Finally a signal!  It is Ever-Patient and he is at the other hospital frantically searching for me, pissing off every single front line health care worker in the joint.  I break the news to him that I am at a different hospital and have to stay overnight.  We decide that it’s best he go home and grab clothes for the kids, him, and myself for our little overnight adventure before coming to see me.

They set me up in a nice little private room on the maternity ward.  (Originally, because we don’t have insurance, I was set up in a room with two other women and their newborn babies and was specifically told that I could not have a guest stay over and should I experience another bout of pain, the nurses would not be allowed to help out with the baby.  My father suggests I move to the private room which would cost us quite a bit money and basically says, “Merry Christmas.”  Another small miracle.)  Ever-Patient comes and relieves my father of baby-duty.  I ask about the kids and they are more than fine with their doting grandparents and #1 has made it safely to their house as well after catching up with her godfather and his wife.

I end up staying a few days in the hospital (apparently at this hospital there are no ultrasounds done on a Sunday).  During my stay, I have met kindest nurses who sympathize with me having a newborn while dealing with this and who sympathize even more when they realize that we have 4 more waiting for us to come home.  During my stay, I get more rest than I have ever gotten in the last two months and I am grateful that Ever-Patient is who he is – Ever-Patient.  He has been there for me through my many hospital stays over the years – sleeping on hospital floors after surgery to lying on cots snuggling his newborn children.  During my stay, we are both able to catch up and have conversations we’ve been meaning to have but haven’t been able to as we pass out from sheer exhaustion day in and day out.  During my stay, the TV people come just in time for Sunday football which I can watch without interruption or guilt.  During my stay, I lose 5 pounds from my “no food or drink” diet which turned into my “clear fluid” diet, although #5 drained me of most of those 5 pounds.  (After my ultrasound was postponed 24 hours, the nurses told me that I could eat.  As I was alternately stuffing a slice of pizza and a handful of perogies in my mouth, the doctor walks in stunned and says, “I told them you could eat CLEAR FLUIDS ONLY!”  Ooops.)  During my stay, as I worried about the kids and my health, Ever-Patient kept my spirits up by amusing me through his stories of walking down the maternity ward halls with a rather robust #5 pretending he was just a very very HEALTHY newborn to some very shocked hospital staff and parents-to-be.  During my stay, I counted my blessings.  I was grateful that none of my children or my rock, Ever-Patient, were lying in this hospital bed or that none of them had felt the horrible pain I had felt.  I was grateful for having my father, my in-laws, my daughter’s volleyball team’s supportive parents, and her godfather all helping us while I was in the hospital.  During my stay, I have an ultrasound which reveals no cause or preventable measure I can take in the future and only shows fluids around a pancreas that indicates it had been inflamed at one point.  There are no answers only questions, “Are you sure you don’t drink?”  or “Maybe it was due to your fluctuating hormones after pregnancy which may have caused a large excess of triglycerides to be released in your bloodstream?”  I think we’ll go with the latter explanation.  During my stay, I send Ever-Patient to the gift shop to find me a good book or magazine to pass the time after our TV time was up only to discover he just couldn’t decide amongst the vast array of Harlequin novels they had for sale.  He actually said to the cashier, “I just can’t decide which one to get.”  During my stay, Ever-Patient remarks that I look rejuvenated and calm. During my stay, we are flooded with concerned texts and phone calls from family including one from my witty aunt who said jokingly, “Where did she stash the bottles?  Under the bed?  Now we know how you can handle 5 kids!”

I’m ok now although I find that from time to time I feel a discomfort and brace myself for the excruciating pain which hasn’t returned thankfully.  I am finding comfort in sharing battle stories with my cousin who has experienced something similar since she has had her baby this summer but who has endured far worse. (Green tea baby!)

I realize that everything happens for a reason. This is the universe’s way of telling me to slow down and to take care of myself…and of course, to stay off the hooch.

from our family to yours…

We hope you had a safe, healthy, and…

It’s been a chaotic and eventful couple of weeks in our household…more details in upcoming posts.

December has flown by for us.  Here is a moment from the past month that sums up the month for us:

#2 and I prepare her little “giveaways” for her class the night before the last day of school before Christmas break.  She has this idea of stuffing little coin envelopes with candy canes for each classmate.  The problem is that a box of coin envelopes costs over $20 at Staples.  She begins to obsess over this little project because she can’t just give out candy canes to the kids…where is the attention to detail?  The personalized touch? (Wow…the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree…)  I tell her we will make the envelopes ourselves…from scratch.  God knows I have enough paper and glue.

So on a Thursday night, with Ever-Patient and #1 at volleyball practice, we set to work.  As we begin tracing envelope templates onto cardstock, I realize how much I miss the store and how easy it would have been to cut out some envelopes using the machine while chatting with friends.  Instead, I am cutting and folding and gluing each envelope while nursing #5.  By envelope #2, #4 begins to whine.  I play holiday music in hopes that she will get inspired by Christmas spirit and just give her mother a break tonight.  Instead she becomes increasingly annoyed that she is not allowed to “help” and begins to throw a tantrum screaming, “Mommy doesn’t love me!!!!”  I do what I can only manage to do physically and psychologically and I ignore her and continue to make envelopes – these little pieces of paper that bring so much joy to #2.  As we finish assembling the envelopes, #2 stamps a snowflake and the letter “j” on the front of each envelope – her personalized touch.  #4 is still writhing on the floor but not because I am still ignoring her but because #3 has started singing “Feliz Navidad” and dancing around.  #4 cannot stand it if anyone around her is happy if she is not.  Now #5 starts to cry – I’m not sure if it’s the sound of #4 screaming or #3 singing in broken Spanish that upsets him – and I yell, “BEDTIME!”  #2 gives me last minute instructions on how to finish stuffing her little envelopes with candy canes: “Don’t forget to put the candy cane upside down in the envelope so when the kids pull it out, the candy cane will be in the shape of a ‘J’.”  She amazes me.  Somehow I get them all in bed .

Thinking back now, I really can’t remember how I got everyone upstairs – probably through some combination of bribery, an explanation of Santa’s  naughty/nice list, and some humiliating form of begging.  And as I finish stuffing the last envelope, Ever-Patient comes home with #1 and hands me a Peppermint Mocha Latte.

God bless him.

fall activity #12.

Make mini-gingerbread houses.

The kids' gingerbread community.

#2 had a play date last week and all the kids made these mini houses.  I also made little boxes out of patterned paper so the kids could transport them home.  (Instructions for the boxes can be found here.)

We used graham crackers, royal icing, and various toppings like marshmallows, gumdrops, skittles, and sprinkles.

I assembled the houses first and let the icing harden so the house was stable enough for them when they started to decorate it.  They each got a ziploc bag of icing and went crazy.

The kids shoved some candy and marshmallows inside so when they broke the houses open, there would be a special surprise inside.  (#2’s idea.)

(Word of caution:  It’s never a good idea to make these right before dinner.)

how we do it.

Ever-Patient and I frequently get asked:  “How do you do it?”

“It” meaning: having 5 kids, me staying home, him being able to pick up and drop of the kids, us remaining calm (95% of the time) and do everything we were meant to do while living in 1100 square feet of space.

This quote explains “it” all:

You have to decide what your highest priorities are and have the courage — pleasantly, smilingly, non-apologetically — to say ‘no’ to other things. And the way you do that is by having a bigger ‘yes’ burning inside.

-Dr. Stephen Covey

one month.

(This post is over two weeks late…but gimme a break…I just conquered an Everest-size mountain of laundry…clean underwear trumps a one-month celebration any time.)

To #5:

Happy One Month Birthday!

November 22, 2009

It has been a whirlwind of a month.

It was full of:

• sleepless nights
• moments of disbelief that we have a son
• moments of disbelief that we have 5 children
• hugs and kisses and more kisses from your big sisters
• poking and prodding from you big sisters
• getting to know each other sessions (you like to eat, i like to sleep…we’re still having trouble reconciling those two things)
• baby grunts and coos and other noises I’d love to record and save forever
• yummy smells that I’d love to bottle and save forever
• not so yummy smells
• meals generously donated by family members (thanks Mom, Pop, Ever-Patient’s parents, and my cousin Francis)
• attempts to scrapbook (I especially enjoyed trying to do it with friends – thanks Shanley and the girls!)
• documenting via this blog and through taking photos when I can
• tantrums and anti-sleep protests from your big sis – #4
• adjusting to being a single mom on Tuesday and Thursday nights
• your attendance at various volleyball events including your first varsity game and #1’s tournament
• memory loss
• arguments over who gets to hold you (although the novelty is starting to wear off now – “He’s heavy!  Mom, can you take him back?”)
• lots of pajama days
• little smiles in your sleep
• mommy yelling, “He got me again!  Crap!”  at diaper changes
• debates over who you look like
• many well wishes as well as concerned phone calls, emails, and text messages
• staring contests between you and your sisters (you’re still the undefeated champion)

You were 7lbs 10 oz at birth and you now weigh in at 10lbs 8oz.  Crazy.  Time is moving too fast again.  You are already outgrowing your newborn sleepers and diapers.  You have a belly and a double chin and meaty thighs.  You can hold your head up when you’re on your tummy.  You eat every two hours, sometimes eating so fast you’re gulping as if I’ll run out of  milk.  When you eat, you have to hold my finger.  You sleep best curled up in my arms (or daddy’s – but he isn’t as soft as I am).  You are no longer hysterical at diaper changes.  We know you are in a deep sleep when your mouth hangs open.  You like Top 40 songs, and unfortunately your favourite songs are by Pit Bull much to the dismay of your mom and dad so to calm you, we hear #3 chanting, “I know you want meeeee…”  You are sometimes so frightened of the sound of your belches that you jump.

Although it is has been wonderfully strange having another man in the house, we all can’t imagine how we lived without you.  I remember when you were a fleeting thought (or more like a silent prayer for your dad) when we contemplated having a 2nd, 3rd, 4th or 5th child, “What if this was a boy?”  Now you’re finally here.  You have no idea how much you were meant to exist as a part of our family, how the stars were miraculously aligned to allow for you to be.  After your fourth sister was born, I thought I was as happy as I could ever be – complete with my 4 girls.  But now as I see your sisters surround you with love, making promises (and wild threats) to hurt any girl that would hurt you; and watching your father hold you tight and whisper, “my son, my son, my son” over and over again, I keep watch over you as you sleep and inhale each of your exhaled breaths and I literally feel my heart expanding inside my chest.

It’s unbelievable and almost too good to be true that I am this happy.

mama and you.

We love you,

Mama

fall activity #11.

Have a party/get-together/soiree/pow-wow etc.

Not only does this force you to clean your house, decorate it early enough to truly enjoy the festive season, and give you permission to indulge in egg nog, you are able to welcome the colder weather with the ones you love/like/tolerate.

This past weekend we hosted our annual holiday party for my cousins and their families.  (It’s a precursor for our larger family party on Christmas Eve.)  Pot luck and poker is always the theme and this year, there were also hilarious rounds of broken telephone and one cousin brought back a favourite childhood event: “The Funny Game” (Thanks for the chicken wing and egg roll, Marv!).  There really is nothing like sitting around a large table, eating samosas, chinese food, pasta, Hamilton cupcakes and catching up with family.  We all lead such busy lives that some of us really only get to see each other a couple of times a year.

Ever-Patient and I started this tradition a few years ago when there was drama in our family and some of my beloved cousins were not going to show up for the larger party on Christmas Eve, but now it’s just become a tradition that my kids really look forward to…although #3 desperately wants it to become a DANCE PARTY…

I must admit that we make the effort to host for purely selfish reasons.  I have 5 children and it’s important for us to keep them close to their cousins and aunts and uncles.  I’m a pragmatic person (although Ever-Patient calls me morbid).  I don’t take any day for granted that I have with my kids.  It gives me great comfort to know that they will have such a tremendous support system should anything happen to me or my husband.  I know they will be loved and taken care of.

This time of year is the perfect excuse to just get together with people.  People you haven’t seen in forever.  People you see often.  People who you’ve been mildly acquainted with like the neighbours two doors down.  People you love/like/tolerate.

Before winter arrives along with the hibernation and laziness, get out of your comfort zone.  Host a tea party, a cookie swap, a pot luck, a secret santa gift exchange, a play date, a cocktail party, a formal dinner, a brunch, or just invite a friend over for coffee.  And the most important thing?  Enjoy the little moments and don’t get caught up in your own expectations of being the perfect host.

(No photos of the holiday party this year…having too much fun and totally forgot to whip the camera out…so if any of my cousins are reading this and took some pics, please send!)

my new favourite holiday card.

A Knock Knock e-card.

dear santa.

Yesterday the kids wrote their letters to the big man.  (Actually, #3 and #4 drew pictures of what they wanted and #1 and #2 wrote their letters.)  I gave them each 3.5″ x 3.75″ squares of paper to draw/write on.  After they were finished, I collected them and made this matchbook type folder to keep them all in to send:

the outside.

Here’s the inside:

first page...sorry - a little blurry.

#4's letter. (a princess dress)

#3's letter. (A red toboggan.)

#3: “I  want a red toboggan to bring to the Bahamas.”

Ever-Patient and I look at each other puzzled.

He says to me: “Do you want to take this one or shall I?”

Me to #3:  “But there isn’t any snow in the Bahamas.”

#3:  “I know that.”

Me: “You know toboggans are to be used on snow, right?”

#3:  “I didn’t know that.”

Now off to mail the minibook of letters…

a crafty reminder and snowflakes.

I will enjoy the season. I will smile daily.  I will not stress over family dramas.  I will believe in magic.  I will give until it hurts.  I will listen more.  I will have a sugar cookie and a cup of hot cocoa whenever I get anxious or hyper.  I will be open to the spirit of the holidays.

This is my “Holiday Manifesto.”

I wrote this last year and created a scrapbooking layout to remind me.  I mounted it on a canvas and date stamped it: Dec 1 2008.  This year I decided to pull it out again as I went through my shopping list and calendar and started to hyperventilate.  I date stamped it: Dec 1 2009 and it is again displayed in my living room as a constant to reminder to just enjoy myself this year:

I should also add: "I will remember to breathe."

For today’s family activity, as per our advent calendar, we cut out paper snowflakes to be hung on the windows:

#3's masterpiece.

our growing pile of snowflakes.

#4 and her cutting fetish...she can sit for hours cutting up paper..and other things.

#2 opening up her little snowflake.

The kids made dozens of snowflakes.  Once they figured out how to make the snowflakes have hearts and diamonds and other shapes within them, they couldn’t stop experimenting with the scissors.  #2 tried to figure out how to make her snowflake have rounded versus sharp points while #3 and #4 just loved to test their skills in dexterity and coordination with the scissors.  #1 eventually joined in the fun and made a couple of them although she preferred making them here.  In the end, the girls enjoyed an artificial snow fall as they tossed their pile of paper snowflakes in the air.

A great start to December.

happy december.

What were you doing at 2am last night?

While most of you were sound asleep in your cozy beds, Ever-Patient and I took turns holding a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed baby and we finished this:

....our advent calendar.

The kids had stamped the envelopes about a week ago but the envelopes still needed to be stuffed.

Each envelope contains:

...a daily family activity...

...4 little love notes a day...each a different colour for each child...(sorry #5 - you'll be included net year)..

and… 4 Hershey kisses, since it’s not a real advent calendar unless there’s some chocolate!

The daily family activities include:

• Drive around the neighbourhood and look at the holiday decorations and decide on the best
• Sing Christmas carols
• Bake cookies and distribute to neighbours
• Donate mittens and other winter wear to a local shelter
• Learn to say “I Love You” in 5 different languages
• Write Santa letters
• Have breakfast for dinner and eat in pajamas
• Trim the tree
• Call 5 people and tell them you love them and why
• Watch Lord of the Rings Trilogy (our little family tradition…the little ones LOVE these movies! Weirdos.)..this lasts for 3 days when the kids begin their holiday
• Pray for peace
• Go to the library and borrow holiday-related and/or winter books
• Make a snow angel OR make hot cocoa (if there is no snow)
• Have a snowball fight OR decorate a gingerbread house (if there is no snow)
• Each buy a toy for gifts for a family in need
• Have a holiday party (Last year, #3 wanted it to say a “holiday dance party”)
• Have dinner by candlelight and dress formally
• Research how other cultures celebrate the holiday season
• Watch the Sound of Music
• Take photos with “Mall Santa”
• Send holiday cards to 5 people we’ve lost touch with

I will document each day in December with photos and recording the stories behind them (hopefully!).  Ever-Patient doesn’t understand why I make “things harder” for myself – and I know this thought was going through his head while I nursed and wrote 96 love notes last night (more like early this morning).  But I think when he saw the kids get excited at the sight of the advent envelopes hung over our mantle this morning, and when they couldn’t contain their anticipation over opening the first envelope, he understood the method to my madness.  This is our family tradition.  This is the stuff that the kids will carry with them forever.  I want them to see the holiday season as a time for celebrating us as a family and not just a time for exchanging gifts.

Although they do love eating the chocolate each day, the kids get more excited over the family activity to do together and reading their little note.  With each note, they are looking for the one that says: “Mommy time!” or “Daddy Time” which means that day, they will get a block of time with one of us.  They are already planning what they will do with us including go for hot cocoa with dad or just read as many books as possible with mom.  Truth be told, Ever-Patient and I look forward to these one-on-ones too.

So…with all the stress and drama that I expect to accompany the holidays, I am going to ENJOY the season nonetheless…..and not think about next year when I will have 120 love notes to write…