Miri's Version of Fifty Nifty...

as I heard her belt out through the house today:

".......Kansas, Louisiana, Massive Toots and Michigan..."


[Um, I believe that's "Mass-a-chus-etts," Miri]

A Perfect Storm

They said it wouldn't happen. It couldn't happen. Not here in Richmond! NO SNOW. They said that in Seattle, too: "We nevvver get snow here!" And then a big storm dumped snow and ice the week we moved in. Maybe it's us. Abby had just been bemoaning the fact that there would be no white Christmases here, when what to our wondering eyes did appear.....SNOW! And more and more and more snow! Snow all weekend long! So much snow they canceled Church!

I love the first days of a really good snowstorm. The kind that dumps a whole foot in a matter of hours, sequestering you in your own backyard and giving license to endless play. I love that we're forced to stay home and ignore everything that seemed so urgent yesterday; free to usher-out the "to do" lists and usher-in simpler, grander plans.

That's what we did.

The kids had their last day of school on Friday, so we were already in gleeful moods when the snow arrived at dusk. They pranced around outside catching snowflakes in their mouths and we all sat and watched it sparkle from our back windows. There are shin to ceiling windows that run along the entire back side of our house. I can watch the seasons change in full view from just about anywhere I am! It's a dream for me.

But back to the fun-- We built snowmen, went sledding and sledding and sledding some more, had hot cocoa, made a big pot of chili, watched Christmas movies and played Christmas music, wrapped presents, built a big ole' fire, and generally had a very merry time. We even went snowshoeing to the lake!....except we weren't wearing snowshoes....

Luke and I got creative with snowballs today, and discovered that they skip like rocks on a frozen lake. Who knew? Later, we turned our driveway into a luge run for the twins. They were pretty traumatized at first, but we just kept sending them down over and over again til they got the hang of it.

Just kidding.

They LOVED it!

Here You Go

Here's the Photo. A little lopsided in this picture, but it's not as short as you thought, is it? I cut at least 6 inches off. Abby cried when she got off the bus and saw me. She begged me all night to glue my hair back on. Our handyman friend and his two teenage sons came over yesterday and immediately offered to give me the name and number for their hairdresser. Bless their helpful hearts. They probably noticed it was looking a bit like a lampshade. I felt like I should be wearing shoulder pads and pearls..... so I went ahead and put a few layers in. A little snip here, a little snip there. I have this urge to just keep cutting and see how short I can stand it, but at this point I can still pull it back if I really want to, and as you know- it's all about options.

Here's a post-layers picture (don't you LOVE taking pictures of yourself? And then posting them?? Ugh.):



I'm pretty sure this style doesn't belong in this decade either, but it sure feels good.

I Need[ed] a New Hairdo

I have been wearing the same ponytail nearly every day for about 8 years now. [Read: Since the day I became a Mother] Okay- sometimes I wear it all twisted up and such, but it's still pulled back. I can't stand to have hair in my face. Living in Daybreak really sealed the ponytail deal for me. Every time I wore my hair down, gale-force winds would inevitably come whipping through those prairies and I'd end up cursing myself for even trying to have normal girl hair. And then I'd pull my hair back.

In Virginia, we have humidity. I can last 5 minutes with my hair down outside before it looks like I stuck my finger in a socket. I do it sometimes for church, or just so my hip neighbor will still be my friend and not lump me into the "Frumpy Mom"category [some people do that.] I hope I'm not really frumpy, but isn't that sort of what a ponytail every day says?

So yes, I know- I should try cutting it all off, right? I think about that. I would love to look really great with short hair- I mean like Gwyneth Paltrow Sliding Doors great. But I finally realized that I would have to have her face in order to look that good with her hair. Still, the ponytail has to go. I have to figure something else out. I need more options. The problem is, not only am I too cheap for professional photographers at Christmas Time, I'm also too cheap for real hairdressers. Or too practical. I hate the thought of taking time [and money] out to have my hair done every six weeks. I have friends with amazing hair and I know that's what they do. I just get tired thinking about it. I would much rather spend that time and money elsewhere these days. So my hair is my own fault. I take full responsibility for it. Which is why I took that ponytail in my hands today, grabbed a pair of scissors and chopped it right off.

Yup.

I really did.

The Underwear Years

The past couple of years when we attempt a family photo (we're too cheap to hire a professional), it always ends up that the best photo in the lot has a peek-a-boo of someone's underwear. Here's last year:



And this year (taken tonight.) Never mind that we're dressed for Easter in December:


Isn't this a horrible picture?! (I mean the lighting and the underwear)

Peek-a-Boo!

"Why," you ask "don't you just shoot some more pics til you get it right?"

Because it's MADNESS I tell you! It was no small feat for me to get us all dressed and outside and posed for a picture this week- and I didn't even make it in time for the sun! The camera was acting up, the flash kept going off without permission, the kids got restless. We had to take what we could get. So we have diaper in the photo. (No, I don't have Photoshop.)

The more I think about it, the more I like these underwear shots. They're so Me. So telling of my current state of mind. I kept nudging Creighton to pull her dress down, but in the end.....who really cares? Really. I just have to laugh.

Here's what was going on while we were spanking the camera:


Can't you just see those precious moments of good humor and decent hair ticking away? I'm so glad I have it documented so I can renew the anxiety anytime I want to.

Don't ask me what I'm talking about. It's late.


p.s. if you don't get your Christmas card until next year, it's because I'm goofing around with this post instead of addressing envelopes...