Stocking Lunch

Growing up, one of the most anticipated traditions of Christmas was the stocking. My parents made such an event of the little gift appetizer.

My dad would come up with elaborate ways to hide the stocking. Each Christmas we had a list of rules we had to follow and clues to lead us to the hidden treasure. The whole lead up was thrilling, but the stockings, oh the stockings! My mom was a master of cramming as much good stuff as she could into the foot-shaped sacks.

I think we did the treasure hunt until I was about 22 (my dad does it now for Ellery). When we gave up the hunt, neither Liz or I could quite bear the idea of giving up our mom's amazing stockings.

Side Note:

When Andy and I got married

I think he was REALLY intimidated

by my mom's stocking.

We've had to make new rules for

stockings in our house.

As adoring and clever as Andy is,

I just don't think a boy can

stuff a stocking the same way

a girl, especially a mom, can.

The solution we came to was what we call our Stocking Lunch. We put an afternoon date on the calendar and meet to exchange stockings. My mom makes one for Lizzie and one for me, and Liz and I work together to fill up a stocking for my mom.

To this day we have never achieved as awesome of a presentation as she gives us every year, but we keep trying!

Today was our Stocking Lunch. Oh how I love being with my mom and sister!

Lunch was yummy and our stockings were lavish and we laughed a lot. There is something wonderful about sitting in public, digging through one of the icons of Christmas that is usually reserved for children and surrounding yourself with heaps of festive wrapping paper (my mom wraps each individual item that goes into the stocking).

We all ordered the same thing for lunch so when the check came we asked the waitress to split it an even three ways. It was then that, gasp! I realized that my mom and sister had ordered sodas and I only had water.

Oh the injustice!

Not like it was a big deal at all, but we decided that they would put the tip on their cards and everything would even out. Which it did.

But after all of our stocking jollity I think we were a little rummy. I started babbling on about how I had to leave my tip line blank and I didn't want the waitress to think I was cheap or mean. Then I rambled about leaving a note to explain the arrangement we made at our table:

"Dear Waitress, your service was excellent. I'm sure you noticed I didn't leave a tip, but it is because I didn't order soda and my dining companions did, so my tip is included on their tab. Thanks for the great meal!"

We were all laughing at the ridiculousness of it and then my mom and Liz ganged up on me and kept saying, "Do it!"

And you know what...

I did.

I put an asterisk on the tip line that lead her to the back of the receipt and to my explanation. Regardless of the fact that I feel really silly and totally suckered by my mom and sister, I'm finding solace in the fact that the waitress probably had a really great story to tell when she went home.

That's what I'm about. Making other people's day.

Thanks for another amazing stocking mom!

Sweet Moments

I hope you had a lovely Christmas.  

Mine was full of wonderful moments with my sweet, sweet family.  

Jack was loaded down with toys and clothes from all of his adoring fans.  I am embarrassed to admit that I was lavished with gifts as well.  I keep liking the idea of a simple, inexpensive Christmas, but I just like buying presents (and getting them!).

I received a new camcorder, so perhaps, when I figure out all of the nuances, I will be able to capture and share Jack's funny moments.

Until I am proficient with the moving pictures, these stills will have to do. 

Enjoy a glimpse of my beautiful family, in no particular order:

Happy Sisters

My awesome brother-in-law and nephew.

Grandpa Aichele and Jack

Jack's rockin' Christmas hair.  

Does anybody know of a good styling product for little boys? The stuff Andy and I use doesn't seem effective for Jack's do.

 

Oh my gosh, I love this baby!

Dane and Jack both opened most of their presents with Grandma and Grandpa Erichsen.  It was so cute to see my parents buried in a pile of paper, toys and babies.

Okay, this has nothing to do with Christmas.  It is just ridiculously cute.

Ellery giving Angie (my mother-in-law) the longest hug in all of Ellery history.  

Everybody was jealous. 

The Erichsen girls.  Doesn't Lizzie look especially beautiful?

And of course, everyone testing out Andy's new Wii ~ which is really quite fun.  Just let me know when you want to come try it out ~ our house is open!

This may have been one of my favorite Christmas' of all time.  And with that, the New Year looks bright.  I can't wait for the adventures of 2009!

The Importance of Ribbon

Today my nails are painted a bright, Barbie pink.  I've been snowed in for what feels like ages  and my solution was to paint my nails. It only distracted me from the trapped feeling for about 15 minutes, but, hey, that's something.

You may be wondering, "Emily.  Don't you know it is Christmas?  Pink is not a very festive color.  Why not red?"

Well, the answer is that I just felt like pink.  Okay?  

If it makes you feel any better, the presents that I've wrapped are VERY traditional this year.  Red and green and that is it.  

Last year they were a lovely brown and gold and turquoise.  Sigh.  BEAUTIFUL!  And very elegant.

But this year, the classics called to me.  

I was feeling so smug about getting a jump on Christmas earlier in the month, but all of a sudden, the 25th is just two days away and I still have a pile of presents to wrap.  Albeit, most of them I am wrapping for other people, as in, I offered to wrap their gifts to loved ones, but still, the fact remains that I have wrapping yet to do.

But I'm thwarted.  I've encountered a problem.  

I have no ribbon left. 

Ribbon is essential!  

None of those plastic bows for me!  

Wired lined ribbon preferably. 

You are probably thinking, "Well Emily-of-pink-nails-even-though-they-should-be-red, why don't you just go get some more ribbon?"

The answer to that is not so simple.  

First, there is the issue of the snow.  

Who really wants to traipse around with a baby when it is frigid and wet and a little bit scary? Call me a wimp if you must, but all that festive frosting on the road is a little intimidating. Our little side street is still exactly the same color as the sidewalks, yards and roofs.  WHITE.

Second, there is the issue of... well... what to call it? Practicality?

Is it really necessary for me to spent $10+ on ribbon, just so I can show off my gift gilding skills? Like most, I went just a teeny-tiny over what I intended to spend on presents.  I just like giving people what they want.  

As the house-wife that I now am, I am very conscious that if Andy's job is to make money, my job is not to spend it, but to save it.  I tend to be a little self-indulgent (hard to believe, I know, but true).  That is a habit I am very much trying to break. So, is the purchase of ribbon just to satisfy my personal pride in presenting beautiful packages?  Or is it a legitimate purchase to help express my love for the recipients of gifts?

$10 could be put to lots of uses:

a new pair of pants for Jack

dinner at Gorditos (yummmmm)

half a package of diapers

a coffee treat for me and a friend to facilitate a much needed connection

admission to the Children's Museum

a box of crackers from Costco to stock Andy's lunch for a month

See.  Not so simple.

This quandary needs further reflection.  I think I'll feed Jack, take a shower, and see where the day takes me.  I have a feeling it will take me to Target and to the ribbon isle, but we shall see.  We shall see.

Thanksgiving Highlights

What?

Your Thanksgiving didn't include 55 people, a power outage, a round-robin of crying babies, sleeping on a love seat, a gorilla costume and a teeny-tiny chihuahua?

I thought that was totally normal!

My mom's side of the family has always been big, but with my cousins getting married and having babies, the number just keeps growing!  

This year, to accommodate the whole crew we rented an old army barrack on the Washington Peninsula. We met there on Thursday, each family bringing a dish for the holiday meal.  We reserved the space through Sunday morning, so we all planned to spend several nights there.  

My extended family is full of wonderful cooks and funny people.  So we had good food, great conversation and a healthy share of competition in everything from card games to trivia to ping pong.

Several unexpected events did occur though.  After everyone had served up their dessert the power inexplicably went out.  One moment it was bright and cheery and warm, the next moment it was pitch, PITCH dark.  All the exits had emergency lights, so we huddled in groups around the doors or around those clever individuals who thought to bring flashlights and head lamps.  

The outage actually lent a festive, adventurous feel to the weekend, that is until about 11:00, when we all realized we hadn't brought enough blankets to keep us warm.  It was FREEZING! I packed way too few coverings and Andy and I spent the first night tightly huddled on a very squeaky twin bed. (I actually was very  happy about this because I LOVE cuddling to sleep, but Andy is of the variety that prefers to have his own space in bed.)    

Well, we started the night in the same bed anyway.  The other interesting dynamic of the late nights was the fact that there were... one, two, three four, (I'm listing names in my head)... 10 young kids at the fort.  Seven of those were sleeping in one wing.  And, oh yeah, there were no doors to our rooms.  So every little peep echoed down the hall for each mother, father and child to hear.  

That was hard for some of the babes... mostly mine.

How embarrassing.

And tiring.

Usually Jack will wake up a few times, and kind of talk or cry himself back to sleep.  But when I knew that every other kid might wake up any second to Jack's babbles, I spent the whole night on edge.  Once Jack was awake, he only would go back to sleep if I bounced him and would only stay asleep... in my arms.  Ugh.

The first night Andy took him downstairs and they slept together on a couch.  I made a bed on a love seat (it looked a lot longer in the dark) and later brought my nephew Dane to sleep with me as he was also having trouble sleeping in a new, noisy place.  

Have you ever slept crunched up on a love seat with a baby?  You don't really do much sleeping.  Babies are wiggly.  And sweaty.  And they have a tendency to head-butt you in their sleep. That really hurts.

Several moms decided it wasn't worth it to stay another night, but the Aichele's stuck it out.  

I spent another night on the couch with Jack.  

Actually, I took the first shift and Andy took over at about 5:30 in the morning. 

We left that afternoon.

Despite the hiccups and sleepless nights, it was a joyful holiday.  My extended family is kind and gracious and ready to enjoy every event.  They welcomed my mother-in-law (Andy's real mom who drove up from Texas with her chihuahua-service dog) warmly and eagerly accepted Jack when my arms were tired of holding him.

One of the most enjoyable activities for me was making a gingerbread house with Ellery.  In the weeks leading up to our trip, every time I'd seen Ellery she asked me if we were going to make a gingerbread house that day.  Each time she was been crushed when I said no.

I had resolved that we would not try that activity again this year since last year it was kind of a disaster.  The short version is that Ellery kept saying, "This isn't working!" and I, after calling my mom to come rescue me, dissolved into a sort of hysterical combination of tears and laughter.  Later that day when my mom asked Ellery how it went she said, "Emily laughed and laughed and cried and cried."  It was true.

But my sweet sis was persistent (and apparently oblivious to the failure of last year) and I wanted to redeem myself. My mom packed a kit and on Friday afternoon we created a masterpiece.  It was delightful.  I have conquered the gingerbread house (although I think I need to review the story of Hansel and Gretel as I stumbled as I told it).

If you ever are doing a gingerbread house with a young child, I HIGHLY recommend that you hot-glue the structure together before the child is involved and then do the decorating with the little lady (or gentleman).

Here is our creation:

Our method was for Ellery to tell me where to put the frosting and then she would stick the candy on.  After the first application of frosting I already had some on my hands.  Ellery noticed it and said, "Can I lick your thumb?  You have frosting on it."

Here are a few other photo gems from the Thanksgiving adventure:

 I love my family!  And my heart is full of gratitude. I hope you are able to say the same.