the year in review

my final post of 2008 was a list of the five highs and lows of our year. i considered repeating the idea, until i realized i just lacked material. we didn't move across the state in 2009, we didn't buy or sell a house, the kids didn't change schools, and i didn't potty-train anyone. as far as life-changing events go, i'd say that 2009 was pretty much lacking. (which isn't necessarily a bad thing.) so instead of highs and lows, i thought i'd just briefly hit the major points for each of us. as a challenge to myself, i'm going to try to do so in chronological order.

chris: trained for a half-marathon. ran it in a cold drizzle. marked it off his "bucket list" and says he'll never do another one. went on a guys' trip with fraternity brothers to chattanooga to root on their beloved davidson wildcats to yet another southern conference tournament win. watched davidson lose in the first round. kept plugging away at his job. spent weeks (and a few choice words) screening in our back porch so that it's now our favorite place to be in the warmer months. appointed as chair of the outreach committee at church for the next two years. patiently explained every nuance of football and baseball to an eager son. constructed a firepit in the backyard and has become quite the s'mores expert.

sara: went on a girls' weekend to the beach and missed the kids and hubby a little. advanced to the state tennis championships in pinehurst. lost both matches i played. made fun of all my friends who became obsessed with the twilight series. read the twilight series and became obsessed. had a letter to the editor printed in the paper. celebrated our ten-year anniversary by receiving a beautiful diamond ring, and promptly lost the center stone in the sand at the beach. found it. started my first job in six years, teaching expelled students high school math online each afternoon. danced a jig all the way to the bank each month to deposit my meager paycheck. celebrated the big 35 in grand fashion at red robin with a free birthday burger coupon and was reminded that i now am classified as Advanced Maternal Age.

super: did a whole lot of transporting shoes from closets to random spots all over the house. left out of the family christmas card picture yet again. could win an award for canine flatulence. is loved to pieces anyway.

susanna: continued sobbing hysterically each day during drop-off at 2-year old preschool in the spring (a true momma's girl.) became even more obsessed with disney princesses than i was with twilight. rebuffed my suggestion of taking gymnastics and insisted on beginning ballet. counted down the hours until the next time she could don her pastel pink leotard and tutu. walked into her new 3-year old preschool class in september without a single tear and never looked back. (hallelujah!) mastered naming all 26 letters. began writing her name. is definitely a lefty. attended the local production of cinderella and was honored to have prince charming come down to the audience to try the glass slipper on her foot. requested only one item for christmas -- princess pajamas -- that cost $12.99 at target. gave us hope that her future wedding aspirations might also be of a similar price range.

liam: played his first organized sport (t-ball) and second organized sport (soccer) and third organized sport (basketball). exhibited athletic abilities that thankfully come from chris's side of the gene pool. also exhibited a strong dislike of losing. began reading chapter books. fell one time on a slight hill while riding his bike and refused for months to get back on the dadgum thing. had his picture printed in the paper (at left). can add and subtract double-digit numbers. observed me teaching integers one day and now can add and subtract negatives as well. proved to be a little freakish in the numbers department. lost his first tooth. became even more obsessed with the game of bowling than susanna is with disney princesses. walks around the house all day rolling imaginary bowling balls and yelling, "strike!". upon opening his christmas gift of a nintendo DS, declared that "santa made all my dreams come true!", prompting us to wonder if we should just return the rest of his unopened presents.

i guess in looking back, 2009 was a tad busier than i initially gave it credit for. but most importantly, we continue to have our faith, our health, our happiness, and our love of family and friends. we thank God for our blessings and look forward to what might be in store in 2010. happy new year from all of us!

xoxo ~ chris, sara, liam, susanna, and super

wordless wednesday

a couple of important notes about the following video:

• chris and i both suck at recording video. (just makes you want to watch it, right?)
• our plan was to have chris stationed downstairs to capture the kids' looks of awe as they entered the family room for the first time on christmas morning. instead, liam just stares at the camera and says "cheese" in a bewildered tone, and susanna needs major prompting to approach her new bicycle.
• liam is then more interested in reading the note santa left behind than opening the big present sitting right in front of him with his name on it (his #1 wish: a nintendo DS).
• and, in true sucky-recording-video fashion, the second he discovers what's under all that wrapping paper and exclaims, "SANTA MADE MY DREAMS COME TRUE!", the camera ran out of memory. so listen closely, for you will hear the beginning of that genuine, unsolicited declaration. (we asked him later to re-enact it; it kinda loses its charm the second time around.)
• i'm sorry about the length (~100 seconds.) not only do we suck at recording the video, but we also have no idea how to edit it.
• this is about as opposite as "wordless" as you can get. my apologies, all the way around.

bookin' it

back in the olden days, when i was Mother of One, i scrapbooked. i wasn't ever one of those crazy-into-it types, taking part in weekend scrapping retreats or subscribing to scrapping magazines, but i did buy my occasional issue every now and then for ideas. i had several nifty tools and was known to go a little wild when 12x12 paper or ribbon was on sale. and while my sweet infant napped for three or four hours a day, i would painstakingly create double page spreads of each month (with an additional spread for special holidays) of his first two years of life. i still love to go look back through them -- they are, in their own small way, works of art that fully capture his milestones and escapades, complete with clever plays-on-words, creative embellishments, and pictures and journaling galore. if our house ever catches on fire, they seriously might be the only possessions i'd run back to get.

then Baby Two came along, and it all went downhill from there. there just wasn't time to devote to editing and cropping photos, designing layouts into which i'd affix them with acid-free mounts, printing the journaling (in a sassy font, no doubt) with the perfectly-measured margins on coordinating cardstock, and finding interesting ways to adorn the pages ... all while entertaining a toddler and breastfeeding a newborn. Mommy Guilt set in, as i fell further and further behind. i managed to finish susanna's one year album before her second birthday, but then, right after a spread on our first trip to the zoo, it abruptly stops. from my computer chair i can see a girly pink album sitting on my bookshelf, with dozens of clear page protectors yearning to be filled.

 susanna, admiring her one scrapbook with my mom, june 2007

BUT this is where the wonder of modern technology comes in. thanks to our blog, the kids' stories are still told. the memories are still documented, the pictures still shared. and when i discovered an online service that allows you to turn your blog into a book, i took full advantage of the downloadable program and put hours of effort into making it, in its own small way, a work of art. we now have a hardcover "blogbook" of 2008 sitting on our coffee table, complete with every post and every photo from our blog that year.

i share all this before i launch into my final posts of 2009 to explain that our blog is more than just a way to show to family and friends (and anyone else who stumbles upon it) what our children are up to. when i started, i hardly even knew what a blog was. i fully expected my interest to wane; i had no idea that a year and a half later, i would have amassed close to 200 posts (and, even more amazingly, upwards of 14,000 hits.) it's really become my way of time-capsuling our life. my way of creating something tangible that liam and susanna can pick up years down the road and relive their experiences, smile at their cute kiddie faces (have you ever met anyone who doesn't love seeing themselves at age three and five?), and learn things about us as a family that they might not have otherwise known. i know that much of what i write isn't terribly interesting and is certainly not earth-shattering. but pieced together, the posts do a pretty good job of describing our life as we live it.

even if it, sadly, doesn't have a cute polka dot ribbon tied in a jaunty bow.

wordless wednesday (a day late)

"and there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night." luke 2:8 merry christmas from our shepherd and sheep!

down with some updates

our week in review, facebook-style. (in other words, i have nothing interesting to say, so i thought i'd just pull my status updates i've written over the past seven days, put them in a list, and go wrap some more presents.)

sunday: "ho ho, Mister Toe, hung where you can see ...": christmas lyrics according to a five-year old

tuesday: the song "all i want for christmas is you" came on the radio today. liam's reaction: "this is the silliest song i've ever heard. who wants a person for christmas? i sure hope santa knows to bring me toys instead."

thursday: so this is what it feels like to turn 35: i got beautiful jewelry from my husband and an as-seen-on-tv Snuggie from my parents ... and i'm not sure which one i'm more excited about. when does the AARP card arrive? saturday: my little brother was driving home to raleigh from st. louis and has now been stranded on I-64 in the storm for 24+ hours. no food, 1/4 tank of gas. he's melting snow to have water to drink. say a prayer for him and the thousands of motorists around him. i can't even imagine how the families with babies or the elderly are surviving ...

an update on the updates: after the snow plows cleared enough for ben to get off on the nearest exit, he waited in line for three hours for gas, tried every hotel in the vicinity, and wound up spending the night on the floor of the fitness room in a hampton inn in west virginia. he arrived home, safe and sound, after 48 hours on a trip that normally takes 12. thanks be to God! and on a completely different note, i've discovered i tend to overuse ellipses ...

wordless (truly) wednesday

ROOKies

i came to the startling realization recently that my five-year old now actually knows things that i do not. case in point: chess. i have never in my life learned how to play chess. i know most of the names of the pieces, but have no knowledge of the game past that. i don't know the objective of the game, i don't know the rules, i don't even know how the men move.

but as of last week, liam does. he stood in our playroom one of our seventeen rainy days (oh, it sure felt like seventeen days, after being cooped up with no end in sight) and perused the shelves of games we have stacked in there, and trotted out with chris's old chess set. i explained to him that the best i could do was checkers -- and even that would require a quick review via the internet -- but chris was home by then, thankfully, and sat down with him for the first of what became a series of lessons on the fine art of chess.

i know that chess is arguably the most difficult game ever created, but from all that i can tell as i get dinner ready in the evenings while listening to the two of them play in the next room, liam is starting to actually get the hang of it. i can hear him mulling over his options, and even thinking a step ahead: "if i move the pawn there, then next time i can do this." or, "i want to go here, but then you can move here and that wouldn't be good."

susanna has been a quiet observer through all of this, so it came as no surprise that she wanted to give it a hand herself one morning. she and i sat down with the pieces all in the right spots, and then realized that neither of us had a clue what to do. we stared at the board for a few seconds ... and then hers began jumping over mine. mine asked hers to dance. her king took my queen for a spin around the checkered dance floor, even going so far as to dip her. and after a few more minutes of maneuvers, susanna declared the game to be over. liam walked up at this point, interested in who the winner was. he saw the state of affairs on the board, with each of her pieces paired up with one of mine, and told us that clearly, the game was not finished. "oh yes it is," replied susanna, "because look! can't you see?" she showcased the board much like vanna white would on wheel of fortune. "all the people are now married."

and what's that called again? oh, right. check mate.

wordless wednesday: the gofster chronicles

gofster, as i shared last december, is our Elf on the Shelf. after enjoying the off-season in the north pole for the past eleven months, we returned home from charlotte the day after thanksgiving to find him hanging out on the chandelier in our foyer. he's been keeping a close eye on the happenings in the mann house ever since, reporting back to santa claus each night and popping up in a different spot the next morning. the very first thing the kids do after they wake up is to scour the house for gofster. on tuesday, after an exhaustive search, their discovery was accompanied by peals of glee from their bathroom. there was that mischievous elf, perched on the window next to a note he had left. now we just need to teach him how to flush.

vaccination non-elation

i schlepped my two poor, unsuspecting children to the pediatrician this past week for H1N1 shots. of course, i made no mention of the shots ahead of time, and even when we pulled into the parking lot i tried to pull a fast one. "we've come for our vaccinations!" i exclaimed, hoping that i was conveying a sense of excitement. "what are vaccinations?" they asked, as i knew they would. i pretended not to hear as i ushered them through the doors with the promise of the lollipop of their choosing. which really should have alerted them that something was up, but they were still trying to figure out what a what letter the word vaccination started with. i have a history, myself, with shots. if i weren't so vain, i'd offer photographic evidence of my passport photo, taken when i was 19 and headed to europe to study abroad. i was stupid enough to have my picture taken directly after getting a whole round of necessary vaccinations to be approved for international travel, and after sobbing hysterically for two hours before, during, and after the traumatic event, my tear ducts were on such overdrive that my face swelled up to twice its normal size. to this day, i'm absolutely terrified of needles. pierced ears? methinks not. i endured two natural childbirths just to avoid an epidural. but given the choice between subjecting my children to such pain, or dealing with the possibility of being housebound for a week in the winter with two sick kids, i chose option #1. and it was really quite sad, the way the whole thing went down. the nurse called our names in the waiting room and they both jumped up, eager to see what this vaccination business was all about. it apparently sounded quite interesting. "who wants to go first?" i asked, knowing that just the mere mention of the word "first" sends shivers of excitement up and down their spines. "ME!" cried susanna, as she waved her hand wildly in the air like she was amidst a throng of people instead of in a crowd of two. "no, mommy, ME!" retaliated liam, who even had back-up reasoning: "i'm the oldest! i'm almost 5 1/2! it should be me!" and this is where my post draws to a close. i simply can't relive trying to contain their squirmy bodies on my lap as it began to dawn on them just what this whole vaccination thing meant. i can't bear writing about the looks they gave me as they realized how horribly deceitful their mother, the woman they trust most in this world, had been to them. i can't rehash the guilt i felt that while their sweet chubby thighs were being stabbed, i turned my head, unable to watch, the whole time thinking to myself, i'm so glad it's not me. because yes, i'll admit it: i'm not getting the H1N1 vaccine. i'd rather actually have the flu than see a needle come anywhere near me. but you know what? i have reached the age that i can make that choice for myself, as ill-advised as it may turn out to be. i have earned the right to decide what i need and what i don't. yes, thankfully, at this point in my life ... well, i call the shots.

wordless wednesday

the advent conspiracy folks are back with another timely and relevant message about this season we're in. i love it so. i hope you do too. (and in case you missed their original video from last year, here it is:)