Parenthood

So I didn’t win the lottery, again. It happens all the time and it’s probably because I never play the lottery and also...because...well....it’s the lottery. No one wins, ever. Except the winner. And how happy for those lottery winners, are we?

One of the grocery store chains here in our town occasionally runs store sponsored scratch-off games. Buy a specific brand of cottage cheese or a minimum amount of groceries and the check-out person presses a thin stack of ‘tickets’ into your hand, along with the grocery receipt.

There’s usually a small pile of those unscratched tickets laying next to my car keys by our front door. Once in a while when I need a non-Internet distraction, I’ll find a quarter and scratch the silver film off the cards to see what I haven’t won.

On Saturday night, I plunked the stack of scratch-off tickets onto the coffee table, gave each of the girls a quarter and showed them how to play a grocery store scratch-off game. (It’s all about education, people.) After we’d scratched off all the losing tickets we piled them into the center of the coffee table and then sat back looking over our heap of failure. After a moment or two, Heidi stood up and walked around the table, collected everyone’s quarters and then headed for her room.

I sat there for another moment and then realized I’d just been pick-pocketed while playing a fixed, carnival game.

Heidi was born with a small crease on her left ear. Or as I like to think of it, an ear dimple.

Heidi's been walking around asking me how's this made, how's that made? "Mommy how do they make tires? Mommy how do they make mattresses? How do they make clouds? How do they make teeth?" What do I look like - the Google?

She's also been asking a lot about her existence, the meaning of life and questioning if our souls survive the death of our bodies. Or something like that.

"Mommy how was I made?"

"God made you."

She completely accepts this answer. No follow-up questions. (Fist pump!)

"Mommy what happens when we die?"

"We go to heaven. Heidi some day a long, long, long, looooong time from now we'll be in Heaven together and we'll have so much fun. But for now we're here together."

Again, she totally accepts this answer, however, this time she asks a follow-up question: "Mommy, how will you reach things in Heaven?" (For the record I stand at an underwhelming 5'3" short. And, Lexi, who is now taller than me, has taken to calling me "little mom.") So I asked her what she meant by "reaching things" and she told me "you know reaching the high cabinets when you get me my snacks." Spending eternity fetching snacks? Not quite what I have in mind when I think of eternal bliss.

Another favorite pastime of her's these days (besides dropping a philosophical question here and there) is SpongeBob SquarePants. Now, I realize that some of you might be shocked that we let our four year old watch SpongeBob SquarePants. And honestly, it shocks me that other people find that shocking. I've overheard several of my kids' classmates' parents saying that they forbid their kids from watching SpongeBob. What's up? Do they think he's gay like that gay, purple Tinkie-Winkie? Or worse, a liberal?

I bet it's the gay thing. Oh, those gays are trying to make all our kids gay with their gay cartoons!

So the other day, Heidi asked me if I could cue up a SpongeBob and since I'm trying to teach my kids to be gay, I was like you betcha! She wanted me to play the one where SpongeBob does that thing, you know after he does that other thing and then the pineapple breaks? What, you don't know which one I'm talking about? Huh, that's weird because Heidi thinks you do.

A mere dozen started and then stopped SpongeBob episodes later and we found the one where SpongeBob does that thing, you know after he does that other thing and then the pineapple breaks.

Then, just as I was ready to start thee SpongeBob episode the one she so clearly described Heidi shouted, "Mommy! No, no wait! I have to ask you a question. OK, here's my question: Why did God make me like watching SpongeBob so much?"

Heidz, God makes you the way he makes you. You are you and SpongeBob is SpongeBob. You probably like him because you were just born that way.

Where have I been? I’m not even sure myself. I think the last time I saw me was somewhere around the intersection of Money Stress and the Holidays (is that redundant?). Or maybe it was our work obligations or The Groenevelt: Everyone-Is-Going-to-Die-Virus-of-Christmas-Vacation-Twenty-Eleven.

I'm not sure what virus circumvented our immune systems. All I know is that the fatigue was so bad I could be cutting a length of wrapping paper and have to stop mid-way through my slice, stretch out over the unrolled paper like a beach towel and rest my cheek on its slippery, cool surface until I had the energy enough to finish pushing the scissors through the remaining uncut paper.

But we're all better now and I can finally hold my head up unassisted so I'd like to take this opportunity to ask: WHO in God's name scheduled Christmas during flu season? I mean, how are we expected to celebrate the baby Jesus' birthday with deep discounted electronics and door busters, if were too sick to get out of bed?

Anyway, in spite of it all, we did manage to have a nice holiday, and enjoy each other, and not hurl. That’s how we’ll remember this Christmas...the Christmas we sidestepped vomiting. Ah, the memories we'll treasure.

Here are some of those memories:

Isn't this disgraceful? Who wears their undies inside out, when they decorate for the holidays? Probably not fancy people.

Christmas bokeh and bow-tie lips.

I love these classic, wooden, Germanic, Christmas toys. Plus this one can be used as nunchucks.

Santa made a stop at my in-laws. My kids' grandparents are throwing them a wonderful childhood.

Lexi's holiday, choir concert. You wouldn't know from this photo, but we had to sedate her like a cat on its way to the vet in order to get her there. She did her best to grimace during the program, but as you can see, she failed to sustain the surliness she fought to maintain through her performance. Maybe next year, honey. Maybe next year.

Christmas afternoon, we drove down to Illinois to spend the evening with my stepfather-in-law's family. Here's Heidi getting herself all psyched-up for the soiree while we were getting ready in the hotel.

And here's Ben, at the Christmas party, with a couple of his favorite holiday companions.

I hope you all had fabulous holidays yourselves...I’ve missed you so!