The story of my Christmas miracle started days before Christmas when the excitement of Santas visit was just too much for poor Colin to take, and he was…for lack of a better term, acting like a brat, and I hate that word.  He tested every nerve I had.  He couldn’t walk past anyone without checking them into the wall.  He wouldn’t say a full sentence without using the word ‘poop’ somewhere in there, and he’d say things like, “You’re  so mean”  and “Daddy’s my favourite.”  I took away every privilege except food and sleep.  I’d take his DS and say “Gone for a week”, and he’d say, “so”.  I’d say gone for 2 weeks and he’d say, “I don’t care”.  I was begging for Nanny 911 to pay me a surprise visit even if it meant publicly humiliating me on national television.  Drastic times call for drastic measures.

I wondered what had happened to my family?  These kids that I’d take to neptune and then to Jane’s On The Commons for Eggs Benedict?  These kids who once would rather tickle the ivories than pick up a joystick?  These kids who’d pack their favorite book  and we’d all spend an hour at the Biscuit Eater and they’d have hot chocolate while I’d have a latte?  Are they now the video game playin, gun chewing, back talking,  f-bomb dropping kids that I said they’d never become?  Don’t get me wrong, I have great kids.  I do.  But as a group, we’ve turned out differently that what I had imagined.  Not better, not worse, just different.  And I was a bit sad at the loss of this image of the family that I had in my head.

Coincidentally, a few days before Christmas I went to a holiday party and chatted with my friend, the musically talented Leslee Barry, and she mentioned that they were planning the Mother/Daughters Christmas Choir in a few days and that I should go, that the kids and I would love it,especially since we all love music.  I thought, that would be great, and now that it’s Christmas, I could easily disguise the sound of the shackles around their ankles as the sound of Christmas bells.  I said, “Hey guys, tonight you’re taking your mommy to a Christmas concert.”  Evan said, “whose class?”  I said, “No one’s class, it’s my friends concert, and it’s in the middle church”, which happens to be the Lutheran Church, but I knew that meant nothing to them. Evan said something like, “Is there anyway for me to get out of this?” and I said “Nope.  Consider it payback for all the cold hockey rinks I have to sit in.”  He rolled his eyes and off we went.

We arrived at a packed church and I worried about my decision immediately because the kids wanted to sit in the kids section, and because I saw only 3 other kids I was pretty certain there was no such section.  Colin insisted on sitting the pew ahead of me and after I decided this was a battle that I wouldn’t fight, he started to move the bibles from holder to holder.  And right about when he began to put the seat cushion on his head I started to break out in a sweat.  He grabbed the pencil and the donation forms from the holder and started to doodle and I thought about grabbing the pencil and gabbing it in my jugular, but then I let it go, what can it hurt really, it’s pencils and paper.

While Colin was doodling, I actually got to hear the music, which was incredible!  Just…wow.  Who knew that such a wonderful sound existed?  Evan would whisper, “Are they going to sing jingle bells?” and ” what about Rudolph, do you think we’ll hear that?” Needless to say, we likely wouldn’t be hearing anything like that.  Something from Andrea Bocelli perhaps, but we wouldn’t be hearing Dolly and Kenny’s “I’ll be home with bells on.”  This wasn’t that kind of Christmas concert.

Maybe it was the Christmas spirit that got me, the sounds of the beautiful music, being in that beautiful church, I can never be in a church without crying, maybe it was the fact that despite all my futile efforts to raise distinguished, cultured, refined sons, they’ve become hockey lovin, video game playin, rough and tumble boys like so many other wonderful boys we know.  And with my eyes filling up with tears, I decided that was ok.  I couldn’t love them any more than I do right now.  That I’m as proud as any mom could be.

I decided that they really did do very well at this concert, and that we’d leave at the intermission and go to Tim Hortons for hot chocolate as a reward for them behaving so well.  

Then Colin, as only Colin could, started to hand me the notes that  he’d written on the back of the offering papers.  One read, merry poopy Christmas.  The other read I love my family.  The last of the three read, I love my mommy more than the moon and the stars.  

The tears that filled my eyes fell like rockets down my cheeks, and right or wrong…he got his DS back.

Lighthouse goes crazy every year.  People go around from work station to workstation giving little tokens of heartfelt thanks to our own little family that is Lighthouse.  And like all family’s, we drive each other insane from time to time, but then we’re reminded that we’d pretty much do anything that we could for each other and all is forgotten, again, like many families.

Today is our last day before we won’t see each other for a week over the holidays and this office is very much like THE Office on NBC.  You know, the printing company that doesn’t do much except have fun.  We’ve planned a potluck and gift exchange but until then we have a little matter of putting out 2 newspapers.  Details.

So just to show you exactly what I’m talking about, I thought I’d share some of those details with you, and who knows, maybe our office will inspire a little craziness up in your office.

This is Steve and his loot…

And Tanya…

And Kim…

And this is some of the gals in our front office, Angie and Michelle…

And even those who aren’t here don’t get forgotten…This is where Carol works.  WOn’t she be surprised when she gets back!

And we don’t spend a fortune.  We’re just very creative.  Here someone gave popcorn with a note saying, “I hope Santa pop’s by”

Which is perfect because someone else gave popcorn seasoning…

Someone else gave a CD with the top hits of 2009…

And someone else gave a home made Christmas scented air freshener…

And cards… oh the cards!

And what did I give you ask?  To some I gave the same hot chocolate that I gave last year (click here for that post), only this year  I included homemade marshmallows…

And to others I gave sweet and savory party mix, with this darling picture of my family as the tag.

My talented sister took the picture.  She didn’t have a lot to work with.  Apparently my kids had much more important things to do than have our family picture taken.  But it came out exactly how I wanted.  The same Partridge Family corniness perfect for my ‘Rockin Around the Christmas Tree’ theme. My God, Colin kills me.

And then we had our potluck and I’m seriously considering having my stomach stapled.

Seriously, this has to be a workers compensation violation.  Really, how am I suppose to work under these conditions?

Next was our dirty santa exchange, where people can steal your gift.  I had a shooter game stolen, and then a bottle of booze, but that’s ok, I ended up with a black scarf that I absolutely love.

And to you, my readers, I give thanks for tuning in to this crazy blog, where you just never know what you’ll find, like my next post, when I share my own little Christmas miracle.

Until then, here is my Party Mix Recipe.

Box Crispix

assortment of nuts (peanuts, almonds, cashews)

fish crackers

Cherios

Pretzels

In a bowl microwave, 2 Tbsp olive oil, 2 Tbsp butter, 4 Tbsp pure maple syrup, 1 Tbsp soy sauce, 1 tsp garlic salt and black pepper, 1/2 tsp paprika.  Mix and pour over the party mix.  Gently stir.  Place on a baking sheet and bake for 10 minutes at 375. Stir gently and cool. Enjoy and share with the ones you love.

Merry Christmas.

I have a love hate relationship with Christmas.

I love how the tree looks, thou I hate to water it, and that usually means I have to take it down only weeks after I’ve put it up.

I love how my display shelf looks in my living room, thou I’m a bit terrified at the thought of trying to remember where I put all the other junk that I removed to make way for the Christmas stuff.  Inevitably there is that one important receipt or piece of paper that I can’t find.

I love my mantel at Christmas, but when it all comes down, it’s really hard to make it look as lovely.  And would you believe that when I put out my Believe sign this year, I had it up for a whole day before Evan told me I have it spelled incorrectly?  He said “Mommy, it’s i before e, except after c.” Good to know.

I just adore these carolers.  So life like.

I love my banister even thou I hate my stairs and will be ripping up the carpet, laying hardwood and painting the risers and spindles  in the new year.

I love my old Christmas men who sit on the bar, because no one likes to drink alone at Christmas.  Aren’t they wonderful?

I love these sparkly Christmas balls hanging from a really awkward window in the entry way that would look so inviting if it weren’t for the two gi-normous stinky hockey bags and sticks right below it.  I can’t throw them in the garage because David says it’s too cold.  And I’m all, “But they wear the gear in a hockey rink.  Hockey rinks are really cold.  Just ask my toes, they’ll tell you!”

Awe, do you smell the Christmas spirit?  It’s a mixture of sweat and cinnamon.

I have to share a good story, and like most good stories, it’s dramatic, a bit scary, there’s a lesson to be learned and the ending is hilarious.

Colin loves stuffed teddy bears.  He always has.  Webkinz, those cheap exhibition bears, you name it, he loves them and they all sleep with him on his top bunk.  Sometimes, I don’t know how he sleeps.  But he does, and if you remove them, he won’t sleep.  Oh- FYI- don’t get bunk beds; their a bitch to make.  And no, that is not the lesson in this story.

I was tucking the boys in their beds one night; Colin first. I put on his night light that is clamped to his headboard and gave him a stack of books to read while I went to Evan’s room to tuck him in.  I was walking back to my room and I could smell something burning.  It was the smell of a synthetic material burning.   I followed the smell to Colin’s room and I saw smoke coming from his one of his bears.  The bulb from the night light was dangerously close to one of Colins many bears and it was burning the fur.  Honestly, a few more minutes and there would have been a flame.  With all those bears on his bed a flame would have quickly spread and there could have very easily been a tragedy in our home, especially because he has bunk beds and it’s cumbersome to get down.  Reason number 2 to not get bunk beds.  I quickly removed the bear, threw out both of the boys night lights, and said a little “Thank You Jesus”  with authority, just like they do in the deep South.

The moral to this story…check night lights!

And now for the funny part…

I love egg nog, but in moderation.  I really love rum and egg nog, but if I were to drink that all night long at a holiday party, I’d need to wear my muffin top pants, and no one wants to see those.  Instead, I opt for a Rum and Egg Nog shooter.

Isn’t it just beautiful?  Here I’ve layered about a 1/2 ounce of Kahlua, egg nog, Appletons rum, top with whipped cream, sprinkle of nut meg and a clementine orange slice, and in that order.  And it layers so beautifully because I’ve slowly poured it using the back of a spoon.  That’s a little bartenders trick I learned in university working at The Pit Pub when I went to University college of Cape Breton. It was called The Pit because of the cole mining in Cape Breton.  The walls were painted a mat black and the only lighting was from the light on hamlets that hung on the wall.

I learned a lot about life by going to UCCB:  Cape Breton is a beautiful but a very cold place; as long as you know one Cape Breton’er you’ll never go hungry;  you get out of post secondary what you put in it; ceilidhs are fun but Davnet Doyle is actually a bit of a bitch; what you’re heard about Smooth Herman’s is all true; and I learned how to layer shooters using the back of a spoon.

One of the things I miss the most about Christmas is my mother-in-laws annual Christmas party.  That woman knew how to entertain.  We all had our role.   My sister-in-law, Lynn, would heat and plate the food that Marg would have spent weeks prior preparing and freezing, and likely the last 36 hours finalizing.  I’d serve the food and try to memorize their often unusual list of ingredients that were always delicious but would sometimes leave guests saying things like, “That Marg!  I can’t beleibe she actually de-bones all those chicken wings.”  And I’d say, “Oh…but she did!”

David worked the bar.  And I don’t mean he’d ask them, “Would that be wine or beer?”   The bar was stocked better than most pubs.  They’d have dozens of bottles of their favourite red and white wine, imported beers, a single molt scotch and limes, lemons and bitters.  He’d make martinis, Manhattans, Caesars, you name it.  David was busier than all of us.

We did this not as the hired help.  It was a family affair that we all really looked forward to doing.  We knew everyone there and serving was a great way to talk to everyone.  People looked forward to this party.  They all dressed up: ladies in beautiful sparkly things and men in ties.  It was the event of the season.

And more than I miss these parties, I miss her.

Since Marg passed away, we still have the annual Christmas party.  Now it’s catered, people make their own drinks and I’ll still serve a bit.  My sister-in-law makes most of the food the Chrismtas party and it’s all just as delicious,  but it feels like somethings missing, and I guess someone is.

I remember the first time she introduced me to these:

Bacon wrapped dates (here I used figs, either would do), stuffed with goat cheese and an almond.  Yeah, that’s right.  This is one of the many things that I had to memorize.

And they taste like candy, but feel nostalgic.  You should try em’.

We bought our house about 4 years ago.  As soon as I walked in, I knew it would be perfect for us.  I loved it’s big back yard and proximity to our friends, The Savory’s. I loved the fact that the basement was finished and that it had a garage for all David’s ‘manly’ things.  But I particularly fell in love with the turrets; one in the living room and one off the dining room that continued to the upstairs master bedroom.  When I first showed the kids our new house, Evan proclaimed that he was going to fight dwagons.

For those of you who don’t know, a Turret is a round room.  I didn’t know that either, in fact I still just call it ‘the round room’.

I had wonderful plans for the round rooms.  For the little one in the Living room, we’d put our Christmas tree, and plants for the other seasons.  The one in our bedroom our bed fit perfectly for our many evenings of romantic, marathon sexual escapades (that was even funny to type).   The one off the dining room I envisioned a  breakfast nook with soft, comfy benches, and I pictured the kids eating breakfast there and doing their homework while I asked them how their day was.

It didn’t so much work out like that.  David decided he wouldn’t allow benches because he never sat on a bench that was comfy and he felt it was an oxymoron.  And because I refused to allow a TV in the family room and he told me that we had to have a TV somewhere upstairs or our marriage would fail, the round room was the only option.  And because the round room had 8 corners and was 9 feet x 9 feet x 9 feet…you get the idea, it was always a challenge to furnish, and turned out to be my least favorite room in the house.  A small love seat was the only piece of furniture that could possibly fit in that room which meant that only 2 little people could use it at the same time, and that often tuned ugly.

Then, I saw the Canadian Tire 2 day sale flyer in the Lighthouse Log and saw this.

You know those women who wait outside Walmart to get something that’s on sale and you think, “Saving a few bucks is not that important”? Yeah…that was me.  I needed 4 chairs and since they were only $60, on for half their original price, I thought they’d go fast.  Saving $240 was worth it, I felt.  And the funny thing is that I didn’t even know if they’d work in that space, but that type of chair could really work anywhere, even in the kids play room and they were so cheap that I was ok if they weren’t that comfortable

I found them and this lovely, helpful young man brought them right to the truck.  We got them home and with a quick assembly, they were perfect AND comfortable!  Plus they have storage, which took 2 ½ minutes to get full of the kids junk.  They’re micro swaid so I can easily wipe them down, which I’ve already had to do.  I love the colour even if it means I’ll have to paint the rest of the house.  It’s really time for a fresh new look.  But the best part, the absolute best thing about these new Debbie Travis chairs that I bought?  The kids can sit in the round room and watch TV, and no longer have to touch each other.  Do you hear that?  That!  Those are angels singing. Aren’t they beautiful?  Thank you Canadian Tire for bringing me the perfect solution to the impossible to furnish round room and for bringing peace into my home.

And now, the round room is my favorite room in the house.