Two things.

1.) I hope the roads to the North Pole aren't bad.  Because the key info. Santa needs for success is in the envelope below. 

2.) Stella loves wearing weird Harry Potter glasses.  Even in her Christmas dress.

The end.

Look Out Fairchilds.

Christmas means one thing in my family. 

Gambling.

I mean, love.

I mean, a love of gambling.  Or of one another? Wait, I'm confused. 

In any event, we love each other - and we often gamble.  Let's just leave it at that. 

There's a particular game that has a bit of history in my family - Acey Ducey.  Fortunes have been won and lost in an instant under the influence of this cruel game of cards.  And I'm only slightly exagerating.

This year, Henry wants to play.  He says if he wins then he can keep all the money, but if other people win - then he can keep his money, right?  Right?  I've got 19 days to try and figure out how to answer that question.

A more important note is that we're PLANNING for the game this year.  And we all know what they say about the best laid plans.  Or something.
Anyway, Exhibit A.

Okay, so at first we weren't really committed to the cause and we only had a few pennies.  NO fun, man.

Now, we're serious.

Once the jar was full, Henry asked, "There's no way we can lose ALL that money, right?" 

I told him that was a much better question for uncle Dave.

Long story short - we're coming for ya, Fairchild derivatives.

Oh Tannenbaum.

We packed up the kids this weekend and took a trip to the mountains (or a hill in the city) to scan the forest (or the lot) for a perfect Christmas tree. 

We always go to the exact same spot and get the exact same kind of tree.  It's because of what we've heard about variety being the spice of life.  You see - Henry doesn't like no spice, man. 

So we go here.  Where I've gone for trees for 14 years.  And where Dave and I together have gone for 10.

And we look around for 5 minutes or so, like we really might try something new...  Because, you just never know.

And then we decide on the same kind of tree we always get. 

But this year it was a little more scragly than in year's past.  Wouldn't Chuck be proud?

Henry checks Dave's work through the sunroof.  

I marvel that it's finally sunny again in Seattle. 

And we all say hi to our newest noble fir.

Then, as families are apt to do, we bring it home, slap some lights on it and have a pretty merry time decorating (see iron man below) in the glow of some fabulous ambient, holiday light.

Wait.  This looks like I'm stalking my own family.  Hmmmm.

Tradition, you rascal, you.  You get me every time.

The Playlist

I've started my month-long homage to Christmas music. 

I'm addicted. 

It's a sickness, really.

From the classics, to wierd pop holiday ditties, to Joni Mitchell...singing about that river...I just love Christmas music.

Which makes me want to take stock in the music we've been listening to this fall/winter. Because we won't be hearing it for a while.  And I don't want to forget these bad-boys when this holiday madness is over...

• Folsom Prison (although we've learned that a 5-year old will take "I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die" to circle time at school if not told otherwise).
• Fishing in the Dark (lazy yellow moon coming up tonight, shining thru the trees - reminds me of home)  
• Forget You (Oh, Cee-Lo, I shouldn't let my children listen to you - but I do)
• Do-re-mi (Julie Andrews, do you have any idea what you've done to my family?)
• Sweet Caroline (Glee version - most of the music we listen to these days is a Glee version)
• Bust-a-move (for the dancing portion of the program)
• Poker Face (Stella is a Lady Gaga monster)
• Happy Days (Judy, Barbara - I mean, come on.)

Okay, playlist, we'll see you next year. 

For now, I'll just be over here...listening to the Charlie Brown Christmas album.

Okey Dokey

Sometimes, it feels like miracles are in the little things.

Other times, they're definitely in the big things.  Like, you know, living.

For instance - getting on a plane in -5 degreee weather, on an icy runway in Seattle at 6:00 AM.

And landing safely in Texas (where the breeze is warm and the bbq is hot) four hours later.  Miraculous.

Then there's a little miracle that cousins - who only see each once a year for a few hours - still love to be together.

And they all get to spend time with their Great Grandmpa Bill.

And we get to hang out with all the family. 

All that to say, I'm thankful for safe travels and running in warm weather and fantastic Texas bbq and family and my little circle of 4 that are quite fun to spend time with on a plane. 

And I THINK I'm thankful Stella hasn't stopped saying "Okey Dokey" since we left Texas.

Tomorrow We'll Be In Shorts. But Today...

Tomorrow we're making our annual pilgrimage to the Lone Star state.  Where it's 80 degrees and sunny.  Right now, I'm packing shorts and short-sleeve shirts for the kids while I look out my window at this...



And this...

It's supposed to be about 19 degrees when we leave the house tomorrow morning at 6 AM. 

I have a vision of us all wearing our sweaters, hats, gloves and big puffy jackets RIGHT up to the gate at the airport.  Where we change into our aloha gear. Oh, the sweet Seattle/Houston dichotomy.

My only hope is that Henry doesn't tell Gramma and Grampa Seward that he can't go outside when we're there because the sun hurts his skin.  He said that a few years ago. And I think it didn't make us Northwestners look very tough. Maybe I should send him to the tanning booth this afternoon to get him ready. 

JUST KIDDING.  That would be wrong, of course.  Of course.  Right?  Plus, we couldn't get there because there's too much snow.  For crying out loud.

So what does one do on a snowy afternoon?

My thought today was to play Sorry with a five-year old.  I love the game and I thought I'd let him win and that would really make him happy.  Except that he didn't just win - he whooped my arse.

We were neck and neck for the better part of an hour.  And were both THIS close to winning. 

I needed a one. 

He needed a three. 

Yeah. 

Guess what came up first?

That turkey!  Here's where I was at the end.

And here's where he was.

And here's his "I'm taking my chips and going home" look. Lovely.

What a great way to spend a snowy afternoon.  So - for today - as my dad would say, "Snow you motha!" 

And, Texas, we'll see your sunny face tomorrow.

Nature and Nurture. And Combat Boots.

It's been a  kook couple of weeks, man.  Airport lateness ("Passenger Seward, please report to gate A51.  Report to gate A51 now. We are closing the doors in two minutes."). Hotels.  Missing babies. 

I think what I'll take away from the last two weeks is that I'm not quite as cool as I thought I was at getting to airports right before the plane leaves. Cutting it close isn't as fun as it used to be.  And I'm not quite as good at it as I used to be. Let's just leave it at that.

All this time in cabs and airplanes got me to thinking about these kids.  Nature vs. nuture and all that.  Stella doesn't want to be a princess, but she's not a tomboy.  So where does that leave her?  Right in the middle?   Isn't that where we all are sometimes? 

In any event,  I like that she's a little nature and a little nurture. Tutus and combat boots, if you will.

And I love that Henry is a boy.  A boy's boy sometimes. But sometimes he likes his toenails painted like I do. 

But mostly he's all legos and building and craziness.

And, given the choice, Stella would take babies every time.  Did she get that from us?

Truly, tho.  Who cares? Nature, nurture. Tomato.  Tamato.  Planes. Painted nails. Tutus. Combat boots.

After two weeks of traveling, I'm just glad for the opportunity to try and figure it out.

ORD to SEA

I'm headed home.

Those are a few of my very favorite words.

I've been in Chicago this week for a conference. A wierd, healthcare conference in which I didn't really know anything about any of the topics but had to pretend like I did. 

I find myself in that situation a lot. 

Anyway. The work is done.

Now I just need to find myself a glossy magazine stand and I'm set for the 4 1/2 hour ride to SEA. 

I wonder what those babies are doing. Is it library time at school? Is Rosa taking Stella outside to play on the slide?

Big questions. Big questions. That I'll answer for myself in a couple short hours.

There's no place like home, man.

Seasonal Disorder.

Stella and I were at Macy's today.

We like to shop together.  She's a makeup and bag girl.  And I sure love that about her.  I love her for a lot of reasons.  Don't get me wrong.  But I simply love that this one enjoys a good bag and a nice lipstick.

Anyway, we saw that the Christmas decorations were out.  Which reminded me that I didn't share any Halloween photos.

Halloween is my favorite holiday.  And this year took the cake.  It went a little something like this...

1.) School harvest festival a week before Halloween. Costumes required.
2.) Classroom Halloween party the Friday before Halloween.  Costumes required.
3.) Matt and Michele's Annual Halloween party the Saturday before Halloween.  Costumes are a must (even Dave and I took part.  We were Hogwarts' professors.  Hear us roar).
4.) Oh, and then there was Halloween. 
5.) I might mention at this point that several weeks prior to Halloween I thought it would be a GREAT idea to have all the neighbors over for a Halloween brunch.  Mmmm.  Hmmmm.  Great idea. 
6.)  Will we ever get to trick-or-treat?

But.  You know, there were some photos taken. Of our hero. Hogwarts student extordinaire. Arch enemy of Lord Valdamere. Friend to Ron and Herminie.

And, let's see.  What would we call our heroine?  She was supposed to be a soft, fluffy bunny. 

But then I tried to put her costume on her too quickly.  And I pulled a single hair on her head. 

After that, the bunny costume could stick it as far as she was concerned. 

When I asked her what she wanted to wear if she wasn't a bunny, she said a superhero cape.  And a viking helmet.  And, after much work to try and convince her otherwise, she didn't budge.  No princess.  No kitty. No ballerina. 

She was a viking superhero.  Kinda wierd. Kinda cool. 

The superhero liked the bloody hand by the coffee cake at brunch.

And we partook in some serious trick-or-treating.  As in, Dave can you please take this candy to work with you?

The whole damn thing came to a very nice close.  A nice night. A nice walk home.



All that to say, Merry Christmas Charlie Brown.

Contradictions.

So.  Henry brought home his first school library book last week. 

We weren't there to guide him. Or influence his choice of literature (like we are at Barnes and Noble - when he wants to choose some random Scooby Doo number - or any book that makes noise and has no educational value). 

And this is what he comes home with.

In case you can't read that title, let me get you a better shot of it.

Uh, what?

Okay, I get that he's David Seward's son.  So this makes a little sense.  But...what?

I feel the need to take an aspirin.

And then he was eating a fudgesicle at the dinner table the other night and he looked like this.

With my untrained eye, I'd take him for a young-looking 11 year-old here. 

I'll say it again.  Uh, what? 

Where's my five year-old?

Sigh. Oddly enough, my saving grace at this juncture turns out to be that stench-ridden dog of blue origin. 

Because, for all the times I get slightly panicked that he's growing up and away from me, he still always comes home to blue dog.

Seriously. Thank goodness for that damn dog.