Merry Christmas, Frisky style

The stockings are hung, the kids are asleep... we've just returned from the Coelho annual Christmas Eve Extravaganza. As you can see, Iwalani didn't even make it home (which is practically across the street from Grandma's house) with her consciousness. I still had to take a picture of their shirts before they were all stripped down and put in their jammies.I just wanted to post to say Merry Christmas from the Frisky Five. In the paraphrased words of Clark W. Griswold, we wish you the "hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap-danced with Danny friggin' Kaye... hallelujah, holy crap. Where's the Tylenol?"

Thanks, Iwa.

Overheard tonight during family wrastlin' time on the Love Sac:

"Hold on, hold on, guys... my butt crack is eatin' my panties."

Diversions

If you have some free time, I think you should check this out. Loads of fun.

3 thoughts

#1 Ahhh..... so I finished book 4, the last, last night. I can breathe again, but I really think I'll have to read them again, knowing what I know, ya know? I just wonder- and this is the last I'll post about the Twilight books again- but I wonder how hard it is for a boy in her target audience to get a date these days. She sure did write some big shoes to fill for any guy who wants to go out with a girl who has read those books. I wonder how many guys have heard, "Sorry, but you're just not my Edward (or Jacob, for that matter)."

#2 I love Secret Santa. I am in charge of it at my school and I look forward to it every year. One of the reasons I like being in charge of it is because I can pick who I get to have. I really get into it, running my ideas past John to make sure they're not to creepy or weird. I know, right? Me? Creepy and weird? I guess I have tendencies.

Anyway, this year I had a vice principal steal my target's class mascot (a paper bumble bee) and I've been sending her demands all week in classic ransom note form with the mismatched cut-out letters and all.

Friday, while I had a 1st grade class working quietly on their projects, I took the moment to work on my, uh, project. I was cutting out little letters and a child had a question so I called him over to where I was working. He saw what I was doing and said, "Oh!! I want you to teach me that project next!"

Sadly, if there ever was a class for that type of thing, I sure would be qualified to teach it.

#3 Another class later, I was sitting with a table of 3 kids and while they were coloring, I was coloring a project I had done as a class example for another grade. These were first graders, too. One girl said she wanted to be a baby doctor when she grew up. I told her those were called pediatricians. She said, no, she wanted to be a doctor that takes the babies out of mommy's tummies. I told her those doctors were called obstetricians.

I should have changed the conversation there.

The little boy at the table said, "Yesterday, I saw a lady on t.v. who had so many babies in her tummy, they had to cut them out!" They all stopped to ponder that for a bit. Just as I thought we were going to move on to something else, they all asked me how babies normally come out, like when there's just one.

I'm the art teacher, not the science teacher. Go ask her.

Almost normal again

Last time I posted, I had just finished book 1 of the Twilight Saga. I am now in the middle of book 4. It's good, people. I'm sure I'll post about something else when I'm done... or maybe I'll just start over again....

My confession

Well, ladies and gentlemen... I have become a statistic.

Over the past three days I have completely neglected my children, my husband, meals, chores, and sleep to talk about, think about, (now post about) and read the book Twilight. I'm beginning to wonder if this Stephanie person knows some kind of linguistic voodoo to produce this kind of effect on her readers.

Admittedly, the book is a bit predictable, but the addiction wasn't. On the surface, it's kinda like Sweet Valley High books with vampires.... but sooooo much better. The thoughts of this girl from whose perspective the story comes are engrossing, producing feelings and reactions I haven't felt since high school. I giggled, I blushed, I said, "Oh, girl.. I know he didn't!"

....at least that's how it was for me... and millions of middle school girls the world over.

I did it!

I have finally captured the ever elusive baby smile. She'll just smile and smile and laugh but when I pull the camera out, it's gone. Last night I laid her in her crib to change her clothes and started up the mobile. Apparently she's a John Lennon fan. It plays the tune to "Imagine".

You can see she has a hard time keeping her eyes open when she really smiles. It's my favorite.

Today, one of my classes asked if they could see pictures of my baby. Always eager to share, I showed them some pics from the blog. One of the girls asked about John, "Is dat cho' baby daddy?"

It reminds me of a time when I was pregnant with Iwalani. It was my first year teaching. I was telling the kids I was leaving to have a baby. Some of the kids- mostly boys- didn't realize I was even pregnant (I was DEFINITELY showing at this time). There was this little boy in the back of the room who was so sweet. When I told them my news his face just lit up and his hand shot in the air. "Do you know who the father is?" This child meant nothing by that question than exactly what he said. He was genuinely excited when I told him that I was sure it was my husband, John. The other kids in the room knew better and COULD NOT BELIEVE he asked that but he was just so excited.