2010: the year it's been

i'm seriously struggling with my final post on this blog for 2010.  i feel compelled to somehow recap the year, to tie up the loose ends as if our family narrative were a literary work with a conclusion.  of course, that's not the case at all; tomorrow we will wake up and the kids won't even know that the calendar has turned over a new page unless we remind them.  (shoot, in our old age, chris and i will need reminding ourselves.  we're spending our new year's eve at the beach -- i'm on the computer and he's playing the wii -- does it get any more exciting than that?!)

so i'm really running dangerously low on creative juices at the moment, but there's only one december 31 and the hours are waning.  here goes.

MOST EXCITING EVENT
susanna:  she attended her first wedding (my brother's) and even had her own tiara to wear, and she met real-live ballerinas at the nutcracker.  but her dance recital wins the prize.  we were concerned that our shy, often-withdrawn daughter might shrink on the stage, or perhaps refuse to even perform at all.  not so!  she knew every step, every cue, and especially every curtsy.  with a dab of blush on her cheeks and a dollop of lip gloss on her mouth, this will definitely be a hard one to top.
sara: choosing a builder and collaborating on a plan for a major kitchen/powder room/mud room renovation and expansion. getting to make all those fun selections -- layout, cabinets, flooring, appliances, backsplash, counters, etc. was easily the most exciting thing for me in 2010. and we're not even starting the project until summer! can you imagine the level of my excitement when it's actually complete?
chris:  he won the two top prizes in his fantasy football league, which is a Very. Huge. Deal.  i hereby relinquish all rights to complain about the time he invests in this pastime, as it has turned into quite the lucrative hobby.
liam:  liam had more exciting events in 2010 than the rest of us combined.  he rode in his first airplane.  he jumped off the diving board for the first time.  he pulled out his own tooth while we drove down the interstate to the beach.  he started kindergarten.  he played joseph in our church's christmas pageant.  but the #1 event?  his first ride on the school bus.

SADDEST EVENT
for all of us, it was definitely losing my sweet, dear, beloved grampa, one week shy of his 88th birthday.  he was an absolutely amazing man and we miss him terribly.  but every so often, totally out of the blue, one of the kids will stop, look up at the sky, and wave.  "just wanted to say hi to pop-pops!" they'll smile, before returning to whatever they were doing.  it was their first lesson in loss, but it turned out to be a very meaningful way to show them how vitally important our faith is.  there's a silver lining in everything if you look hard enough.

BIGGEST CHANGE

sara:  my work hours almost doubled and switched from afternoon to morning.  while it works out quite well in the sense that now liam and susanna are in school while i teach, i have to admit that it's cramped my style somewhat.  i've had to rearrange things like bible study, tennis matches, and volunteer commitments, and most stores don't open early enough for me to do any serious shopping.  life is rough.  J

liam: whew -- the whole kindergarten thing can turn someone's life upside down!  (it can turn an entire family's life upside down, come to think of it.)  instead of being gone for just three hours in the morning, liam's now gone for almost eight.  he's got homework, responsibilities, and less time for playdates.  and don't even get me started on bagged lunches.

susanna: she's really starting to come out of her shell socially.  she's constantly talking about all of her new friends at school or church or on the playground, and was actually invited to 14 parties in a five-week span this fall.  (i guess she just saves that surly attitude that i've recently mentioned just for us at home -- aren't we lucky?)

chris:  okay.  i have to admit that i've written this entire post and come back to this one piece, stumped.  i couldn't think of any big way that chris's life has changed ... his job is the same, his volunteer positions are the same, his interests are the same, and he's even driving the same car (incidentally, my college graduation gift that currently has like 160,000 miles on it).  so i just interrupted his wii game to ask him.  he thought about it for a minute or two, before coming up with one.  "i now have to check the box for ages 35 to 44 on surveys," he said. 

COMING ATTRACTIONS
susanna: six weeks until our family trip to disneyworld, and she's already discussing the pros and cons to which princess dress she'll wear to our dinner at cinderella's castle.
liam: he starts attending a higher-grade math class as soon as we return from christmas break. i am crossing my fingers he doesn't dissolve into a fit of hysterics the first time something doesn't come easily for him. our first child is a total perfectionist and i daresay an academic challenge might be just what he needs, if for no other reason than to show him that it is healthy to sometimes not get things right away and watch your peers solve problems more quickly than you. (i'm packing some tissues just in case this lesson is lost on him the first few days.  breathe in, dear child, breathe out.)
sara: my new kitchen!
chris: paying for the new kitchen.  and disneyworld.  let the fun begin!

sparklers on the beach deck to ring in the new year -- at 8 p.m.

dreams fulfilled

according to the chinese calendar, last year was the Year of the Ox.  here in the US, of course, it was just 2009.  i've often thought that the chinese should be commended for creativity -- who needs numbers when you can define time with living creatures instead?  so this is my idea: in the future, we'll refer to past christmases not by the year, but by the presents the kids received.  for example, we won't look at pictures and say that they were taken in 2009; we'll say, "oh yeah ... that was the Year of the DS and the Bike."  and 2010?  "that was the Year of the Basketball Goal and American Girl Doll."  (hmm.  that's a pretty long name.  no wonder the chinese stick with animals.)

anyway, for months now, the only thing liam has requested has been a basketball goal.  it was actually quite difficult to give suggestions to family, because we knew santa would likely be taking care of the one thing on his list (seeing as how he'd heard about the thing every time liam sat on his lap) and there wasn't much else liam would even mention.  susanna, on the other hand, had a list a mile long, which varied depending on the day of the week and what toy catalog she happened to be holding.  but the one constant was the american girl doll named kit.

on christmas morning, our two poor children were forced to wait at the top of the stairs while i positioned myself with the video camera near the tree.  they entered the family room, mouths agape at the transformation that had taken place while they slept and a bit overwhelmed at where to begin, so we finally suggested two particular boxes to open.  santa had written liam a riddle to solve and had enclosed it in his box, which was supposed to lead him to look out the window -- but in all the hubbub, he didn't quite get it.  (he races through reading the poem outloud on the video, so don't expect to understand anything but the final two lines, and that's only because i repeat them for emphasis.)

but what is clear is their sheer JOY at discovering that santa had granted them their wishes.  unfortunately, what's also clear is my high-pitched squeal.  when susanna does it, it's endearing.  when i do it, it's grating.  perhaps 2010 will go down as the Year of the Shriek.

the magic

there's just no better way to describe christmas with a four- and six-year old in your house than magical.  i know these years are fleeting; sooner than i want, that magic will begin to wane and i'll have to use more common adjectives like special and memorable.  but for now, chris and i submerge ourselves in their delight and wonder, letting their enthusiasm transform us into giddy, awestruck, excited little kids too.

out of all the festivities surrounding the holiday, from the beginning of advent through epiphany, my absolute favorite time is christmas eve.  and i'm not even talking about the day of christmas eve, although it's filled with events like the children's pageant, and the church service that follows, and our extended family lunch, and the dinner that we host in our home that evening.  i'm talking about the eve of christmas eve, when it's finally dark outside, and the last guests have left and there are just the four of us.  liam and susanna's pajamas are on, their teeth are brushed, and the platter of carrots and cookies for santa and his reindeer is sitting on the table.  they're curled up on the sofa, flanking chris as he reads twas the night before christmas, just as my own father did to me and my siblings for decades and how i imagine millions of households also wind down their day.

i think that i am more consciously thankful at this moment than at any other time of year.  thanksgiving day, after a while, seems almost forced, as if we are being hit over the head with reminders to BE GRATEFUL OR ELSE.  but on christmas eve, as the night turns dark, everything gradually slows, and i become reflective.  the hectic, crazy, busy season, with its parties and shopping and cooking and school programs and the inevitable stress that results despite your best efforts otherwise, is over.  in its place is calm.  peace.  quiet.  and all that's left for us to do is simply wait.  i look towards the couch with my camera in hand, and i stare at the three most important people in my world, and i am humbled by our blessings.

and that's the kind of magic that means the most.

o holy morning

liam was honored to play the role of joseph in this year's christmas pageant at our church.  what makes this even more meaningful is that, thirty years ago at our same church, i played the role of mary.  while the heavenly host (including susanna, decked out in a glittery halo and huge gold wings) quietly observed, he made his way down the long aisle with mary and the little gray donkey trailing behind.  he learned his lines well: "do you have any room in the inn?  my wife is going to have a baby!" and i wouldn't be surprised if hollywood comes calling soon.

i'll assuredly have lots more pictures to share of christmas fun, but for now, on this christmas eve night, as we wait in anticipation for christ's birth, i'd just like to post these.  we wish you all the merriest of christmases!

with love,

chris, sara, joseph, and an angel

sweet.

it's hard to predict, even after six years of parenting, what gifts are going to be worth the money and which ones aren't.  it seems like every year, one of the kids will have their hearts set on something -- whether it's a certain game or toy or craft -- and then, after their elation of tearing open the wrapping paper to find their heart's desire inside, we never really see much of it again.  (whenever this happens, chris calls it a Kix Experience.  growing up, he became convinced his life was not quite complete without having kix sitting on the cereal shelf of his pantry.  but when his mom finally caved in and bought it, he was sorely disappointed.)  this happens often enough with our kids that we currently have a trunk full of these treasures headed over to goodwill to, hopefully, make some other children truly happy.

on the other hand, there are many, many items we've bought that have shocked us by how loved and used and adored they turned out to be.  this is never more apparent than at christmastime, as we drag out the holiday boxes from storage.  because, without a doubt, the biggest hit in the mann family -- the most loved, most used, and most adored -- is the fisher price nativity set.  did we have any notion of how well received it would be?  no.  it was a last minute decision at target, when i noticed there was only one box left and figured that it must be a good thing to have if they were down to their last set and it was still early november.  it seemed divinely inspired, so i squeezed it into my cart and carried it home.  

and what a treasure that non-researched, unrequested, unknown item would turn out to be!  our loyal readers might remember it from a few years back -- i was so enamored with the thing that i actually wrote about it twice (here and here).  the kids' interest in it hasn't waned one iota, but especially after re-reading those posts, i realize how far their understanding has come.

liam and susanna like to team up to put on "puppet shows" (a misnomer, because, of course, these are not puppets, but figurines.)  they'll crouch down on the rug in the family room underneath the coffee table and instruct their audience (usually eight or ten stuffed animals) to sit on the couch.  and then they'll stage a somewhat rudimentary production of the first christmas -- unscripted, unrehearsed -- but surprisingly chock- full of biblical truth.  for example, in yesterday's production, liam made sure that joseph was lying down because the angel was going to visit him in a dream.  today, mary and joseph had a short discussion about how they were only engaged and now that they were expecting, they knew that they needed to go ahead and get married. 

and tonight, right before bed, susanna positioned the angel gabriel in the sky above the manger for a very important announcement.  in her high-pitched voice, gabriel informed the audience of one (me) that, "the baby has been born!  and he is so great and he is blessed and he will be called M&M - ull!"

M&M-ull.  Emmanuel.  a candy, and our Savior's name.  both are so sweet, in completely different ways.  it is my sweet daughter who already knows the story so well, at the tender age of four.  it was a sweet angel, proclaiming the best news of history.  and it was the sweetest message the world has ever heard.

no matter how you pronounce it.

wordless wednesday

a friend of mine whose last child left for college this past fall estimated how many lunches she had packed for her family over the years, and i seem to remember the number was close to 10,000.  ten thousand.  bagged lunches.  TEN THOUSAND.  no matter how many times i say it, i still have a hard time wrapping my mind around the digit one with four zeroes behind it. 

i was on lunch #78 yesterday afternoon (but who's counting?) and was on auto pilot.  sandwich (either ham & cheese or PB&J, put in a green tupperware container).  baggies of pretzels or crackers.  water bottle.  fresh fruit (or applesauce when our produce drawer is bare.)  cheese stick.  dessert.  by this point i honestly think i could do it in my sleep.  and a few times a week, i'll throw in a note with a joke or drawing or message to brighten his day.  i know in a few years, such inserts will probably make him roll his eyes, but for now, he loves to find these little surprises nestled among the other goodies.
 
while i was absentmindedly rinsing out the water bottle to refill, susanna was bent over something at the kitchen table, pink marker gripped in her left hand and a frown of concentration on her face.  and as i began to zip up liam's lunch box, she hopped up from her chair to join me.  "wait!"  she said.  "don't forget his napkin!"

and this is what she gave me:

 (translation: Dear Liam, I love you.  Love, Susanna.)

look at how far we've come

join us, won't you, for a walk down memory lane?  you'll wonder why mr. claus still bothers to come visit us, given the reactions our children have had to him over the years.

2006: six-month old susanna wanted nothing to do with him

2007: liam lasted all of a half of a nanosecond on his lap

2009: susanna.  meltdown.  enough said.

but we FINALLY had a successful visit with the jolly old guy at our club today.  in fact, susanna excused herself twice from brunch to go back and talk to santa since she kept thinking of additional presents she needed to request from him.  a far, far cry (no pun intended) from what happened last year, to be sure.

2010: all smiles!

and after a year of intense therapy, i'm pleased to report that chris has come quite a long way himself this year.   

wordless wednesday: the gofster chronicles, part 1

on the first of december, a new month arrived along with our old pal gofster.  we'd been anticipating the arrival of our elf friend ever since the christmas music started being played on the radio (which felt like right around halloween), so when he finally appeared rappelling from a zip line he'd rigged up in the family room, the kids couldn't have been happier.

he's got quite a few tricks up his sleeve this year.  some he's created with the help of inspiration from his other elf friends (who must discuss ideas when they return to the north pole each night), and some he's created all on his own.  we've neglected to photograph all his antics, but below are a few.

just what will this sneaky elf think of next?  stay tuned ...

after a long flight, seems he was ready to relax in bath of M&Ms

perched up high in the playroom, reading a book to a reindeer

and the kids' favorite so far -- he created a mii for himself on the wii

winning by a nose

who's the fastest?  who's the smartest?  who's the best?  it doesn't even matter what we're talking about ... if liam's in the vicinity, he will be doing whatever it takes to claim the prize.  he has a competitive streak that we've been hoping for a while now would begin to wane, but so far, there's no end in sight.  he wants to win -- and if there's not a contest of some sort to be found, you can bet your bottom dollar that he's going to turn whatever he's doing into one.

take yesterday, for example, when my parents invited us over to their house to help trim their tree.  my dad opened up the box of ornaments and the kids peered in, eager to see the treasures inside.

well -- not quite.  susanna peered in, oohing and aahing at all the beautiful decorations.   by the time she'd extracted her first one, however, liam was making his third trip to the tree, bound and determined to hang the most.  at least a fourth of the ornaments he put up wound up falling to the floor (carpeted, thank goodness), since he'd done such a poor job in attaching them in his quest to be the fastest.  he felt it imperative to lap susanna twice in order to ensure a victory.

chris and i would exchange glances, so tired of this insatiable desire of his to win, win, win ... but knowing that anything we might say would fall on deaf ears.  i mentally made a note to ask santa to put a little more patience in liam's stocking this year.

after the final ornament was hung, my father asked the kids to get together and stand in front of their handiwork for a picture.  while he was waiting for the camera to turn on, liam took the opportunity to, um, use his finger to clean out his nostrils.  dad couldn't pass up the opportunity to rib him a little.  he joked, "hey liam -- pick a winner!"

true to form, liam immediately stepped forward and raised his hand in the air.  "ME!"