And so even though there were a million things we should have been doing on Bryan’s RARE day off from work–installing baseboards in our family room, dejunking our garage, washing the windows . . . the list is endless–we, instead, spent a wonderful day with Buck.

We let Buck choose three things he wanted to do that day. His wishes:

1. Go to the zoo
2. Play at the playground
3. Eat ice cream

After snapping a silly self-portrait, we headed off for the day’s adventures.

First stop, the Frank Buck Zoo in Gainsville, TX. It’s a small, inexpensive zoo that Tad (aka “Buck”) was convinced they named after him, so it made it even more exciting for him. Tad loved feeding the giraffe and the goats (he preferred the baby goats to the big, aggressive, billy goat that nibbled fingers). When the goat licked his hand, he giggled and said that the goat put slimy lotion on his hand. We also enjoyed seeing a baby kangaroo in his momma’s pouch, and watching the boy kangaroos wrestle, but Tad’s favorite exhibit was the zebras; he was convinced that they were his “brothers” because he was wearing his zebra hat that day.

A fabulous playground is situated just outside the gates of the zoo, so we didn’t have to go far to fulfill Buck’s second wish.

He would have stayed there all day if his tummy hadn’t started to rumble and remind him that mint chocolate chip ice cream was awaiting him at Beth Marie’s in Denton.

If Bryan and I had three wishes, we might just selfishly wish that Ari, Vivi and Tad would stay little forever; but because we love them too much to do this, we’ll just wish for more days like this when our girls are out of school and can join us, too.

When Ariana was three, I was a single parent with a new job in a new state. Life was crazy.
When Vivi was three, Tad was a newborn and Bryan was bishop. Life was crazy.

Life is still crazy, but in different, more manageable ways. Perhaps that’s why I am enjoying this stage in Tad’s life more than I was able to with my girls??? Or maybe I’ve just grown into this motherhood thing??? Or maybe I should just stop over-analyzing everything and just embrace every moment of this magical stage!

Thanks for brightening our lives, little Sunbeam.

A few nights a week, you can find us all huddled around the television watching DVR’ed episodes. We each guess at who will be chopped and who will win. We gag at some of the ingredients–from testicles to brain, rattlesnake to rabbit–that the chefs not only have to cook with but that the judges also have to eat. We laugh at some of the crazy things they come up with. We even occasionally cry with the judges (yes, literally) when a favorite underdog defies all odds and beats his or her cocky counterparts.

When we’re not watching the show, Vivi and Tad will sometimes play “Chopped” with our fake food assortment. Tad even presented us a crayon-sketched creation of “ganache” yesterday before church, and he often randomly mixes words like “creme fraiche” and “panzanella” into his sentences.

But the biggest chopped fanatics are Ari and BT. During the Christmas break, they enjoyed staying up late and watching episodes together long after the rest of us had gone to bed. Ari loves the cooking, BT loves the competition and Ari’s companionship. He also loves giving her a mystery basket of ingredients, 20 minutes, and watching her whisk around the kitchen as she crafts her own concoctions.

Yesterday for a pre-dinner appetizer, she successfully used the new panini press we got from Grandma and Grandpa Hess to create a crostini of toasted garlic bread topped with melted mozzarella cheese, pan roasted fresh tomato, Parmesan cheese and dried basil.

The rest of us then act as the judges and give feedback. Tad especially got into it. He normally starts his prayer by saying, “Dear Heavenly Father, this is Buck.” Yesterday, he said, “Dear Heavenly Father, this is a judge.” Hilarious!

As good as the food is, watching BT and Ari bond in this fun exercise of creativity is priceless.

And just in case one of the execs from Food Network ever happens to read this–if the contestants on the show could just embrace the 3rd commandment–”Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain,” or, more likely, if the producers would at least bleep out this offensive language, the show would be perfect.

And as routine as some of the activities were, I really can’t remember a more magical holiday; Vivi and Tad are at the PERFECT age for all the wonderment of the season, and Ariana is at the PERFECT age to embrace the true meaning of the traditions.

Each year during the week leading up to winter break, the kindergarteners at Vivi’s school are immersed in a gingerbread theme. The curriculum unit is made especially fun because the kids receive random, secret visits from a mischievous gingerbread man named “Max.” However, leaving a trail of candy and chos in his wake, Max ultimately runs away on the last day of school before vacation . . . “You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!” Vivi was OBSESSED with poor Max. She couldn’t understand why he would run away and not come back, and even after Max left a note at our house assuring Vivi that he was safe and sound at the North Pole and that he would deliver word to Santa that Vivi should definitely be on the “Nice List,” she worried about his well being.

Christmas Eve, Max accompanied Santa back to our house and continued his impish ways–he hid our Christmas tree and stockings. We awoke on Christmas morning and headed downstairs to open presents. The kids were distraught to discover that everything was missing. But Max left a note on the hearth: “When Santa and I delivered your stockings, Santa let me hide them. Good luck finding them. Ha! Ha! Max”

Thankfully, we didn’t have any major meltdowns before discovering the tree, stockings and presents up in the playroom. Oh, that crazy Max!

As a kid, some of my favorite Christmases were the years that we made presents for each other. I’ve always wanted to continue this tradition with my own kids, and this year I actually mustered the umph to do it.

With my help, Vivi made snap bags for everyone–one for Ariana to keep her glasses in, and matching wallets for Dad and Tad to put their credit cards and other treasures. She sat on my lap and raised and lowered the presser foot, pressed the backstitch button, and helped clip threads. Everything came from the stash, and the boys’ bags were actually made from Ari’s old jeans and BT’s old dress shirts.

Tad (aka “Buck”) made his sisters some barrettes for their hair–he helped glue the flowers down on the felt backing.

He also made BT a “Buck Book”–a coupon book of fun things that he promises to do with Dad. It reduced BT to tears because it documented the fun little things that Buck and BT do together at this stage in Tad’s life.

Ariana went all out for her siblings and helped create fabulous stick horses. Vivi has been asking for one of these ever since she could say her first words, and Buck runs around the house with a shoestring between his legs pretending that he’s riding a horse, so Ari and I figured this would be the perfect gift for them this year. The horses took quite a bit of time, but the outbursts of joy from Vivi and Tad when they saw their gifts made everything worth it.

Ariana also continued her tradition of documenting the special things she and her dad enjoyed during the year in a sketch book. She started it back in 2006 as a five year old when she celebrated her first Christmas with Bryan as her dad, and it’s priceless to see the drawings from each year.

I was able to convince BT that the Tolberts needed to join the 21st century and get our first video game system. The Wii has been lots of fun thus far, and BT has even stayed up after the rest of us have gone to bed so that he can bowl, pitch and slam backhands without fear of interruption or embarrassment. I’m surprised that he’d admit it, but he complained of being sore the next morning from all the sports he had played. I guess it is a little more strenuous than the late night family history work he’s accustomed to.

Tad pronounced that chips were his favorite gift as he pounded down a one-and-a-half-inch stack of Pringles. I was touched that he at least put his can in a larger lid to try and catch the crumbs.

But he’s also had a ton of fun with the tools that we got him. I’m determined to train that boy to take over all the household fix-it responsibilities so that I can eventually retire from this thankless, frustrating task.

Vivi gently tends to the needs of her new cats–stuffed “Furreal” cats, but she doesn’t seem to mind that they don’t need a litter box.

Ari needs to enter an addiction recovery program for a wii obsession, and she also loves her Alton Brown, The Early Years book.

Despite its challenges, we were truly blessed in 2011, and we look forward to the adventures 2012 will bring.

(We would have put it toward orthodontics for Ariana, but her teeth weren’t ready for braces yet.)

After consulting with several orthodontists in the area, I selected Dr. Maria Castano-Rendon to be my orthodontist. I was impressed with her practical approach to treatment, with her genuinely kind and helpful staff, and with the glowing reviews  from a trusted friend who had taken all her kids there. Many of the other offices I visited were too much Frisco glitz and glamour for my liking. Cappuccino bars? Walls of flat screen televisions? Crazy. I loved the down-to-earth feeling of Rendon Orthodontics.

On December 16, 2010, I walked into Dr. Maria Castano-Rendon’s office to get my braces on. The morning had not gone as planned–I had just come from the vet where I had to put my sweet little Marina kitty to sleep. Having to part with my best friend of seventeen years was the most gut wrenching thing I’ve ever had to do–and I’ve had guts wrenched several times in my life. I only mention these details because Dr. Rendon and her staff were so kind and sweet to me on this tough day.

The beauty of my orthodontic treatment this time around was that the braces were going on the BACK of my teeth. Because I only had minor “crowding,” I qualified for lingual braces (a 6-8 month limited treatment) that would address “minor tooth movement.” This treatment wouldn’t address all of my orthodontic problems, but I’d end up with straight teeth, and that was good enough for me. It took some getting use to, but after a while, I didn’t mind having braces because no one else could tell that I had braces.

Sadly,  part way through my treatment, I started to develop an open bite which, in my opinion, is more unattractive than the minor crowding I started with. An “open bite” is typically caused by someone with a tongue thrust problem. I’ve never had this problem, but we speculate that I had unknowingly developed a bad habit of unconsciously pushing my tongue against the back of my teeth because the braces were inside my mouth. Regardless, to correct the open bite and finish the alignment process, the braces had to come off the back of my teeth, and I had to start traditional treatment. If I had known that I’d once again have to relive this chapter from my pre-pubescent days, I’d have tried a little harder to find a more creative way to salvage our flexible spending funds. It didn’t help that, in addition to the braces, I seemed to always have a pimple or two to complete the whole adolescent look.

But on a positive note, Dr. Castano-Rendon was amazing to work with. She could have charged me for full treatment (quite a bit more than lingual braces), but she didn’t. She and her wonderful staff could have been irritated when I had to bring my kids with me to appointments, but everyone was incredibly kind and accommodating. She could have become frustrated with all my questions and perfectionism, but she didn’t. She did everything she possibly could to minimize the amount of time I had to wear the blasted braces, and on October 5th, less than ten months after getting them on, the braces came OFF, revealing a beautiful new smile.

Yes, the process was more complicated and lengthy than I had anticipated, but I am so happy with the results.

And to further underscore how wonderful Rendon Orthodontics is, I have a couple of teeth (one upper and one lower) that just insist on trying to go back to where they had been for the prior 20+ years. I was pretty distraught by the relapse, but Dr. Castano-Rendon had a new retainer created for my uppers, and she expertly tweaked my bottom retainer to immediately correct both problems.

All whining aside, I know that I am blessed to have been able to go through this process. It’s a wonderful feeling to be able to SMILE and not feel one bit self-conscious about it.

THANK YOU RENDON ORTHODONTICS!!!

I’m not trying to suggest that they had done nothing else that evening except watch t.v.

No, they had also eaten a bowl of warm, homemade chicken tortilla soup and had randomly deposited their clutter at three different entry points downstairs.

After a while, BT could sense that I was not particularly happy, so he bravely came in to ask what was wrong.

“I feel like the Little Red Hen!”

His response, though not meant to be funny, has brought a smile to my face all day: ”The sky is falling???”

Wrong bird.

Hopefully the fluffy mane on the groovy new zebra hat I crocheted for Tad’s birthday is the only mohawk he’ll ever sport.

He and I looked through countless patterns on Etsy, and I tried to convince him that he wanted me to make him an owl or puppy cap, but when he saw the zebra creation, he could not be dissuaded. With lots of zebra patterns to choose from, I settled on this one because it uses a method of stacking stitches of different heights to create more realistic, undulating stripes.  The hat was a breeze; the ears were painful because the instructions were horribly vague. I love to support Etsy designers and often find patterns that are not available anywhere else, but it’s rare that I find a one that is error-free. And although some people really go out of their way to give very clear instructions and lots of pictures to illustrate every step of the way, others, like the author of the zebra hat pattern, don’t quite have a knack for dumbing things down to my level.

As I type, Tad is so taken with the pictures from his photo shoot and with his wild hat that he is scratching my back and hugging (choking?) me as he repeats his (and my) favorite phrase of endearment: “You’re the best mom I’ve ever had in the whole wide world.”

With that kind of treatment, I’d crochet the little guy a hundred zebra hats. (And hopefully slip in an Owl and Puppy one when he’s not looking. I think that he’s going to look really cute in those, too.)

Saturday, Ariana spent ELEVEN consecutive hours doing homework and several more hours on Sunday. Every evening is consumed with homework and studying for tests. She goes to school early every morning and stays late most days to attend tutorials or to retake tests.

Although I am very impressed with Ari’s level of dedication and her patient attitude, my nerves and her confidence are unraveling because her test scores indicate that she’s not mastering the concepts that she is dedicating so much time to.

And it doesn’t help her confidence when I become a ranting, raging lunatic and berate her for making the same mistake on a math problem for the fourth consecutive time.

And it doesn’t help her accuracy when, being the dear little miser that she is, she tries to cram complicated facts and figures into a fractional inch of scratch paper.

And it doesn’t help our mental acuity when neither of us is getting enough sleep at night.

And it doesn’t help our sanity when my full-on OCD perfectionism (especially when it comes to schoolwork and the quest for a perfect report card) flares in a very big way.  I lose my grasp on reality and, like a crazed has-been athlete vicariously reliving the glory days through his child, I forget that I am not the student. It is not MY homework, MY test, MY report card. Those things belong to my very capable daughter who is entitled to feel the pain of procrastination so that she may learn to be prepared and to bask in the euphoria of accomplishment when, through her dedicated efforts, she conquers a challenging concept.

Heaven HELP us!

Help me to mirror the love, patience and kindness that she extends to everyone around her.

Help her mind to absorb what she is studying and process the information so that it makes sense.

Help her to know that I love her no matter what grade she gets.

Help me remember to show my love for her no matter what grade she gets.

Help me to not forget that she is only a child, my child, and that she is doing the best she can.

The pattern called for one row of single crochet around the bottom edge, but it didn’t look quite right. When I proposed the option of a more frilly finish to Vivi, she became giddy.  Sadly, I’m not sure that I like it, so when Vivi’s not looking, I think that I’m going to rip out the last row and do some extra rows of single crochet instead. I also add an extra layer to the flower to make it BIGGER, and I do like that modification.

Problem solved. (Hopefully).

While BT and I have been watching past seasons of our current favorite show, Flashpoint, I crocheted this cute little purse.  Sized at only 6 inches by 6 inches, it’s the perfect place for her to safely stash her girly treasures.

Inspired by the fun, vibrant colors (and because I have a lot of yarn left), I just bought another pattern from Etsy to make her a matching hat. I also need to get busy knitting the Harry Potter-inspired scarf for Ariana.

Stuff like this brightens my day.