Recap 12/17

1. Can anyone else believe it’s midway through December already?  Where did the year go?!

2. Isn’t it my luck that the grandma in front of me moved into the view of the Flip right when Tornado E gave his line for the Christmas pageant?

3. Tornado A is really working on that crawl.  He loves being under the Christmas tree.

4. I agree with my BFF; my readers kick-ass.

5. I found the secret of convincing kids to get ready for the day right away.  Bribe them with video playing time before school.  (I know.  Please send the Mother of The Year award to me.)

6. My boys ask for the one food we are out of.  Constantly.

7. Tornado S nods his head with a big, sweet smile, when asking for something, trying to make the adult agree with him.

8. Tornado E REALLY wants a Blizzard Maker, but after reading it takes 20 minutes of cranking, I think Santa isn’t going to bring it.

9. Poor Tornado A.  His nose stops up at night, forcing him to spit out his binky to breathe.  Then he finds he’s lost his binky and wakes up, crying.  I wake up, pop the binky back into his mouth, listen to his stopped up breathing, praying that he would sleep through the night.  The process is repeated every hour.  God, I need sleep.

10. Who raised these women who have all their gifts bought and wrapped in wrapping that matches their perfectly coordinated Christmas tree and their perfectly coordinated decorated house, baking up tons of Christmas cookies that are given to friends and family in matching tubs (which, of course, match the tree), sending out adorable cards a couple of weeks before Christmas?  If I wasn’t so busy, I would go egging.

Learning to Smile

It’s hard to figure out if humans are born with innate abilities and personalities or if they are born with a clean slate.  When learning this concept in college in both psychology 101 and philosophy 101, I figured it must be a combination, but I leaned towards being born with a few stuff.  I’ve met people with abilities that just couldn’t be all learned.

Then I had Tornado E.  I learned you have to teach  a baby to smile.  What smiling isn’t inherently known?  How could such a simple, easy act of affection not be ingrained in the human psyche from birth?  Smiling makes people happy.  It gets you stuff.  It makes you more likable.  And it gives you better wrinkles than frown lines.  I mean honestly, smile wrinkles are a million times better than frown lines.  A million times better.

So maybe we have more of a clean slate than I thought.  But then Tornado E’s personality grew, and I’m still on the fence.  I might have birthed a combination of my little brother and me.  Which is weird. Tornado E has his mother’s talking and story-telling abilities, but he’s an extrovert that is a daredevil with that damn mischievous twinkle in his eye. Tornado S is more steady, talks a lot, more cautious, and he’s defiantly an introvert.

Now there is Tornado A, who is cooing along in his rocker instead of being carted around the house as I work on cleaning it.  Tornado A is learning to smile.  He just gave me a whole bunch of them, inspiring this post and making my voice go up so high I sound like a cartoon character.  Last week, I caught his first smile on camera.  I realize his smile lights up my life, like Tornado E’s, Tornado S’s, The Husband’s.  It’s my shield against the darkness, the unknown,  or just the every day drudge of boredom of doing the same damn thing over and over again, like picking up that living room.  Stupid toys and shoes and books, oh wait, those are mine.

I realized I haven’t been smiling as much with all those demons I’ve been fighting.  So today I vow to smile more.  Until it kills me.  And maybe I can have my own shield or maybe someone else can use it.  And maybe I’ll be more optimistic too.  And maybe I can be happier.  And maybe . . . and maybe . . . and maybe it’ll bring world peace.  Or maybe I should just relax and smile.