Ginger Jesus

We love baking Christmas cookies as a family. We do it every year, and we try to be more and more creative. Basically, as with most things in our family, it becomes a competition. This year, all the children were talking about (boasting?) the cookies they were cutting out and what they were going to be. "I'm making a star." "I'm making a sparkling star." "I'm making a tree." "I'm making a tree with ornaments." Christopher pipes up, "I'm going to make Jesus." Chris, possibly thinking this would be a good opportunity to bring faith in, says, "I don't think we should make Jesus as a cookie to be eaten." Without missing a beat Christopher responds, "Yes we can. It's Ginger Jesus."

Over the river and through the woods...

We left for Thanksgiving around 9 am. It was going to be a 7 hour drive and we thought we'd get going. Packing the car went smoothly and we went about deciding who was going to sit where. It's funny how the third seat of our station wagon lost it's appeal after the first month. So we decided boys first in the "way back " and then girls. And off we go--everyone fell asleep in the first 30 minutes, we didn't see many police and I settled in thinking how much easier traveling was now that they were older. (BIG MISTAKE!!!)

We stopped for gas; everyone woke up and switheroo with the children. Still everyone seemed happy. A little bit later-around 11:30 the children start talking about being hungry. Chris whispers to me that he wants to get to Knoxville before we stop (I look up at this time to see the sign Knoxville 83 miles--uh oh!) The children get more and more grumbly so I tell them stories about when I traveled as a child and my dad wouldn't stop. We're all laughing, but we are passing more and more exits with food and the laughing begins to fade. Chris, in a moment of what he considers pure brilliance, tries to convince them how great it will be to get to Knoxville where we can maybe find a Zaxby's-one of our favorites and not available near us. They're not buying it--I think it was the maybe that did them in. I call my niece, have her get online and yes indeed there are 3! Around this time Caroline starts whining more; she is our best whiner, and she shifts from I'm hungry to my stomach hurts, back to I'm hungry, I don't want to sit back here--you get the picture.

I think to myself, "I'm going to use this as a learning moment." Caroline has called me several times over the past 3 weeks to tell me her stomach hurts and she needs to come home. It's a miracle that when she gets home, after a few minutes she's fine. (And yes I have made sure there's nothing going on at school that's causing her distress.) I explain to her that when you cry wolf so much then we never know what's really wrong and we begin not to trust you--etc. you get the picture. I settle back in thinking I have had a Cosby family moment of parenting--no anger just pure learning-YEAH FOR ME! Not more than 3 minutes later we hear a strange sound and then Sarah Katherine says, "Um Mama, she wasn't crying wolf!" I have got to give it to Sarah Katherine she has sick all over her and she's not completely freaking out. I now am as Chris is TOTALLY stressed and there are no exits in sight. We finally see one, get off, but there's no place to stop, back on and 5 miles down the road is another one. Off we go again.

I look ahead to see a walmart. I try to think quickly and calmly, Chris hates walmart, it's the day before Thanksgiving, but we can get wipes for the car and an expensive sweat suit for Caroline. I think it's the way to go, so I quietly and sweetly say, "Maybe you should stop at the walmart. It will be one stop for us to clean up everything and get back on the road quickly." To my surprise he agrees. We pull in and find a parking space fairly easily. It's about this time I realize that we are indeed in Knoxville (Please dear God tell me they have sweatsuits that don't say Tennessee!) But worse than the knowledge that there is a very real chance my daughter might be wearing an orange Volunteer sweatshirt, I see that it is a SUPER walmart! I choose to keep this information to myself. I tell him we need trashbags, wipes and a sweat suit-how hard can it be to find 3 things quickly?

In goes Chris and the boys--low blood sugar for everyone-certainly not good at a super walmart on the day before Thanksgiving. I clean out the car as best I can with the wipes I have, get Caroline's clothes off her and wrap her in Chris' coat to wait and wait and wait. During this time several people stop to offer their assistance. They were all so very nice. I did stand in front of the Georgia bulldog license plate just to make sure they'd stay nice. I tell everyone, it's okay my husband will be right back. That is only true if right back means 45 minutes!!! Finally he comes out, I'm certain he's going to be in the worst mood, but being the brilliant man he is he bought candy to increase his blood sugar. Quickly change Caroline and back on the road--only a little over an hour delay. And no we never did find a Zaxby's!

My children are right

Sometimes children really are right. Recently my children have been saying, "Mama you're losing it." I forget where I put things, call them by random names and lose track of time. If I was older I'd be on my way to the doctor, but seeing as there is very little likelihood I have Alzheimer's I just think the children are right. But I think I have figured out why? It's trying too do to much and be too efficient. Multi-tasking is not all it's cracked up to be. I learned this for sure a little while ago.

This morning it was 13 degrees--far too cold to go running, but I knew I wanted to run today. I certainly didn't want to have to take two showers, so I just put on my running clothes, went to study, lunch with friends, back to study, pick up Sarah Katherine and home to run before the other children get home and I head off to basketball, cheerleading, and a holiday party. I know I only have a window of 30-45 minutes for the run. So, I rush home, sync my ipod throw on my running coat, gloves, and ear muffs. Out the door I go and I felt horrible. My legs and feet hurt terribly. I'm usually a morning runner, so I assume I'm just not used to the time of day. After almost 2/10 of a mile I realize I can't do it--I look down to discover I had not put on my running shoes--I was running in ugg boots. Yes, the children are right, I'm losing it.