Christmas is in the Air

Lovin' when the car looks like this after a trip to the embassy APO!

Since we missed celebrating a traditional Christmas entirely last year while camping in Tasmania (and basically skipped Thanksgiving this year,) the kids were beyond excited to pull out all the decor earlier this month.

After coming home almost in a rage of disappointment from purchasing their Christmas tree IN A BOX - the despair quickly turned to delight as it all came together with eggnog and lights and music of the season. Will excitedly led them in writing Santa letters, we received a new Elf friend and as long as the drapes are closed, we can almost imagine it's snowing outside! :)

I caught their incredibly sweet and spontaneous jubilee on film...

Such a delightful memory. We just sat back and watched them revel in it all evening. They even sweated it out in their hot pjs to feel more like the real thing. (This is the first time we've missed the snow.) I love that the magic of Christmas is strong enough to linger long past the younger years. The Spirit of the season has such momentum when built on pleasant memories of Christmases past.

One evening as we were driving home from netball, the kids saw a homeless-looking man digging through a dumpster. We didn't have any food or cash on us so they begged to run home and grab the McDonald gift cards GramB had given us for such a purpose last year. Reading the fine print that they were only valid in the States, we heated up some soup and snacks and sped back, but of course he was gone. The fact that they were so invested warmed my heart though. I want never to be caught without a fast food gift card again!

"Fizbo" reading their letters to Santa - Will said on that same enchanted evening, "I guess my last request (peace and happiness in the family) already came true tonight, Mom!"

 We're just new to this Elf on the Shelf sensation, but I have to admit it's brilliant. Every morning the hunt is on, and to catch Annie laying on her tummy with her chin in her hands, just talking to him, being so careful not to touch... so precious. (Glad I have two little helpers to keep the magic alive too... there have been a few close calls.)

Like that lunch on his tray? "We elves like to stick to the 4 food groups: candy, candycanes, candycorns, & syrup..."

  Can you believe I didn't win the Best Holiday Cookie award at the embassy party with these beauties?! Darn Pinterest with with all those reindeer and melted snowman cookies.

And I loved Summer and Desmond's coping mechanism on Santa's lap...

"Maybe if I just don't make eye contact with the big scary guy, this will all be over soon."

Will and Kenna got to be Joseph and Mary last minute at the church nativity. We couldn't find the costumes that are used each year so we scraped together some awesomely random ones. I think Summer stole the show when she got to crawl up and give "Mary" the baby at the appropriate time, then just plopped her little self there like she was a born to be on stage...
I got to play a violin Christmas medley with good friend, Leah, on the viola. I really love pulling that instrument out! But didn't love so much when Darren threw me in front of the mic to sing O Holy Night a'capella to fill time before Santa arrived. (Next time I'm whipping out his guitar so he can jump into the program too.)

 We have such a fun ward, with so many loving laps that our babies just crawl into any old time. Like one big family, I tell ya. Very lucky.

ho Ho HO!

Camping's Dark Underbelly

Darren here. Camping with a bunch of little kids is admittedly crazy. Stir in some impressive miscalculations on the part of mom and dad, as we did, and the crazy gets compounded. We share among friends for the record. 

I spent hours meticulously packing the vehicle. Mounted the Yakima Mega Warrior basket to the roof rack, inserted the custom-fit waterproof canvas bag, filled the bag efficiently with the portable kitchenette, three burner stove, plush sleeping gear for seven, camping chairs and a behemoth 10-man tent that went by the name Colossus. To the interior of the vehicle, I added a 20 lb. gas cylinder, a 5 gallon Jerry Can of water, Igloo cooler, toddler hiking backpack, guitar, everyone's clothes, towels, all the kitchen gear, food, and, of course, the port-a-crib. It was a fabled fit, worthy of the ages.

All downhill from there. Departure time slipped from noon to one to four. "We're getting a bit of a late start," Ivey noted. "We'll be fine," I replied, confident we'd have plenty of time to set camp before dark. This was Miscalculation #1. The drive took almost five hours, not three and a half as expected. Fog, rain, and winding mountain roads slowed us.

By the time we reached the camping areas in the Blue Mountains National Park, it was dusk and drizzling. We decided to camp at the nearest of the four prospective sites we'd researched in advance. We missed the turn-off to Murphy's Glen--a fifteen minute time penalty.  We then missed it again, twin Miscalculations by Mom. Dad pulled the car over to switch seats. Once on the dirt track to Murphy's Glen, we were halted by a locked gate: Camp Area Closed Due to Weather. Back on the highway, now thrice traveled, we re-calibrated to camp at Ingar. Twenty minutes later, same story: Camp Area Closed Due to Weather. Prospects looked bleak. The next camp site, Old Ford, was thirty minutes away, half of that by way of a winding, downhill dirt road. For better or worse, we pressed on. Miscalculation #4.

In short order, Summer threw up in the far back seat, covering her car seat as well as a potpourri of camping gear stowed at her feet. We opened the windows to the rain--a compromise move to escape the malodorous stench. Ivey prepped the other children with sick bags as the wooziness spread among them. Annie was next. However, failing to heed mom's advice, she threw up in her hands, paused calmly to explain that she was not using a sick bag and then promptly threw up again.

In the tumult, we passed the Old Ford camp site without noticing. We eventually backtracked and rolled in just before 10pm. Four sites were occupied but a large site that would suit our needs was available. Enter Miscalculation #5.

The worst was over. Now was the moment to display my outdoors prowess. With Will at my side to assist, I sprang the canvas bag open and unloaded dozens of items large and small onto the wet grass to access the tent and tarp. In minutes the tarp went down, then tent went down, tent pegs came out. The back end of my hand ax rang loudly as it struck the 20" solid forged steel tent stakes.

There was one problem though. A big problem. The ground wouldn't take the stakes. And with this kind of tent, no stakes meant no shelter. Thirty or forty neighbor-goodwill-destroying strikes later, the first stake was only half-way in the ground. With fifteen more stakes to go, I realized the effort was futile. We had to pack up and go elsewhere.

I broke the news to Ivey as she was simultaneously nursing Desmond and cleaning vomit around half-sleeping children by the dim light of the interior car fixtures. She bore the news bravely, although later told me she died inside. I took Annie on crutches to the bushes where she could do her business. Ivey changed two diapers. The rain picked up. We had been in the car for almost seven hours. 

The thing about a beautiful pack job is that it is not easily recreated, especially in the dark while suppressing rage. Step one was to coerce the kids back into their seatbelts. Step two was to pile the damp chairs and sleeping bags and stoves on top of said angry children. Step three was to wrestle Colossus back on top of the roof. This last task was mine alone to face. Colossus, now my nemesis, was a 12' x 16' Army grade canvas tent that, with poles, weighed in at an intimidating 115 lbs. I rolled the tent and tarp together, no poles, and hefted them over my right shoulder. I tread tentatively across the sloped wet grass to our vehicle as Will attempted to help by waving the flashlight indiscriminately. Now came a vicious test of athleticism--a single 28" step onto the tailgate of the lilting Land Cruiser followed by a one-legged squat to a standing position. Will chanted meditatively, "You can do it, Dad" over and over again. There was a moment when I thought a tendon in my neck would snap and another when I thought I'd lose the right hamstring. But I defeated Colossus uninjured. He laid limp on the altar of the Mega Warrior.

the completely unphotoshopped view from our eventual campsite - glad we didn't miss out on this

 We had learned from a Park Ranger that stray campsites could be found beyond Old Ford. Crammed in amid the gear with grumpy kids falling asleep on our laps and an unzipped canvas bag on our roof--somewhat fearing we were leaving a steady trail of camping supplies behind--we drove on. Highbeams forward and flashlights left and right, we trolled slowly with windows down on the hunt for refuge. We found nothing. After five miles of dirt road, we were stopped by a gate. It wasn't locked and we believed Dunphy's campground laid beyond the private property the gate marked but we dared not drive deeper into the abyss at this late hour.

We had seen motels in the last town, Blackheath, and decided to brave the winding roads back out of the Megalong Valley. We didn't know if there would be vacancies or if anyone would even answer the phone. It was after 11pm now. The alternative was fairly horrifying: a night stuffed in a vomitous car full of camping supplies with five very unhappy children (and 2 spent adults).

Grabbing a blip of mobile reception, Ivey found a motel online and called. The phone rang 15 times before someone picked up at the High Mountains Motor Inn. The kindly gentleman took pity on us and prepared a room that would fit our family. Just before midnight we transported the kids to their dry, warm beds, looked at each other blankly, and crawled into bed. Ivey couldn't even speak of the escapade until morning.

Epilogue: To me, it actually wasn't that bad. In fact, there was something I really enjoyed about the experience. Being out on top of the Land Cruiser late at night lost in the rainy Blue Mountains was kind of cool. It made things interesting. We ended up camping at Dunphy's campsite the next three nights and it was one of the most beautiful places we've ever stayed. We got in some good 4-wheel driving, hiking, and swimming. The thing is, creating memorable experiences with the kids usually comes at a cost of some discomfort. I often hate the slog through it, but I'm almost always glad to have done it.  

Video soundtrack written and performed by Dave Peery. 
       

          

Annie Update

Just a medical update on Annie. As you can see, the flexible rods they slipped down inside her tibia have done an excellent job aligning the breaks in both bones. Her cast stays on over 2 months and the rods won't come out for about 6 months. It's heartbreaking to hear her excitedly count down "I get my cast off in 5 weeks!" when it has already been over a month. :(

But she's totally out of pain, gaining great balance and hopping skills and generally no worse for wear now. She's really doing well and we are so pleased with her cheerful demeanor despite the frustrating slower pace she's forced to take. In fact, now she's falling even more because she's too comfortable for her own good on those things.

Most of the time she's fine and able to join in with friends. (Or they join her on the spare set of crutches.) But occasionally she'll feel the sting of jealousy over her "celebrity" status (people generally clamor over her with loving interest and assistance) and the sibs will block her out. Which is when her crutches become a handy and brutal weapon, but that's another story...

she's a force to be reckoned with when they bust out the pinatas

But it really hasn't slowed her down too much. The worst is that she's kept from swimming with us on these 100 degree days. There's the rub and we definitely hear about it. :( But nothing some extra snuggles that night or a Netflix marathon won't heal - getting that cute smile back on her face.

We sure love what a trooper she has been. She even "hiked" over 2 miles one day last week when we were camping. (pics to come) She's seriously awesome.

Electronic-ville

What do you do to keep your kids from becoming robots?

 (And, okay, what are your favorite kid apps??)

Currently, we are camping in the great wide open so this post is ironic, but being semi-unplugged makes me ponder our normal electronics-obsessed culture. Our kids love sitting in their separate bedrooms and playing electronic Uno and Monopoly, shouting back and forth when needed. Summer's all over her letters with the amazing learning apps she does when Mom's trying to prevent a meltdown at the shops. It's a love/hate relationship...

TV zombies...start 'em when they're young

I do try to keep healthy tabs on their screen time. For instance, the aforementioned chore charts and point systems. Screen time being a dependable reward and/or punishment.

Hopefully we keep it balanced enough with healthy doses of this...

 But I do wonder what on earth it's doing to all of us to be so plugged in. I guess only time with tell. It's almost freaky to imagine what kind of world/schooling Desmond's going to grow up in. Maybe our grandkids will have miniscule iphone 9s implanted in their arms...

We Sleeps Him in His Own Bed

Someone likes the heat lamps in the bathroom. Capitalizing on the moment of quiet after the girls left the bath - he promptly fell asleep.

Sleep on, son, sleep on.

There's a funny story Darren's brother likes to tell about the time I was trying to describe what we did to get Will to sleep as a baby. I was obviously sleep-deprived myself because I somehow managed to say "Well, sometimes he sleeps in our bed and sometimes we sleeps him in his own bed."

We certainly don't sleep Des in his own bed. In fact, we seems to sleep him everywhere BUT his own bed. The floor, the carseat, the swing, the bjorn, the couch, a bed, but man, he hates that portacrib.

Ah, the life of the fifth child. (I remember being amazed at my niece, Cali, a third child, who napped happily curled up on the floor under the seat of a dusty old open air tour bus in Sedona, Arizona on a family vacation once. Kids can sleep anywhere, right?)

 He does tricks too. All of our kids have had fairly strong legs and necks as babies, but Des has this insatiable urge to stand, stiff-legged at all times. Kenna did too. Dad could balance her on his palm at just a couple months and she'd just stand there stiff as a board. So the kids think it's funny to prop Des up against stuff to make it look like he's just standin' around.

Then there's this little jewel. If we can get her to sleep ANYWHERE we're pretty happy about it. Here's proof of some of the hoops we jump through to extend that impromptu nap long enough for her not to wake up a monster. Nothing like arising refreshed with dried mango on your face.

Fortunately, we've got down a system where she's happy to be placed in the crib prison tent as long as we have ample snuggles/storytime together beforehand (and lots of babies to keep her company.) Sooooooo relieved it's working for now. Those were dark times for a while there...

 In fact, just last night she cried at 3:30am and Dad took her out to snuggle in the twin bed for a while. Unfortunately, he didn't put her back in before he fell asleep. (She wandered the house and then I had 4 of the 5 kids up at once, stubbed my toe in the dark bathroom and offended sweet Kenna who overheard me swear.)

At first, I thought I'd got her back to sleep with Dad in the bed again so I slipped away to feed Des, locking my door for good measure, only to hear her knocking at it 10 minutes later after unsuccessfully trying to unlock it with these: (I think I've finally confiscated all the bobby pins in the house, but props to her for checking thoroughly and then being resourceful!)

 Anywho... we were up for a few hours until I coerced her exhausted body back in the tent. In fact, it's now 10 am and she's still asleep in that blessed thing...

The Mo

We've finally put Movember to rest - here's how he grew this year:

Last year's pics were oddly akin to Kip from Napoleon Dynamite but this year his coworkers said he had the look of a '70s porn star. Hmmmm. He looks about 20 years younger with that mop chopped off, don't you think?

I tried to get him to wear his ponytail to work but he said that was too far. People wouldn't know he was joking. What?? Isn't 8 months worth of hair growth and a handlebar moustache already too far? Funny that he was hesitant about their reaction... I was told later that when he walked down the aisle in his 70s shirt with his arms up Rocky-style to receive his "Best Moustache All Around" award they were all laughing and clapping their approval. Aaaaand it was all worth it!

Can't decide if he looks more like his 19 year old self or his 30 year old dad.

It's funny how we ladies have ample opportunities to change our looks any old time we want, but thank you, Movember, for letting men in on the fun too. (And for a good cause.) 'Til next year...