We’re headed to my mom’s and the hubby’s parents for Rounds 1 and 2 of Christmas. There will be much Southern food consumed and photo after digital photo taken. Caitlin has refused to wear anything remotely Christmasy (yeah, I know that’s not a word) and is wearing her favorite floral leggings and a snow white turtleneck that I am sure will no longer be white when we roll in tonight. She and I have matching red snowman theme cardigan sweaters but my hopes of us wearing coordinated clothing have been dashed (maybe tomorrow?) Rumor has it the girls are getting the Cadillac Deville of Radio Flyer wagons and at least one toy that requires the hubby to use power tools and mutter curse words under his breath. Thank goodness we’re staying home tomorrow where we can eat, be lazy, watch the girls open more presents, and eat some more. Merry Christmas to all!

The fat man in the red suit comes in handy this time of year when you’re tired, hungry, and your child is having a public tantrum because they are tired, hungry, overstimulated, and sugared up. Caitlin has been a wee bit moody lately and I would blame it on PMS, only she’s 3. She had an F4 tornadic tantrum Monday in front of the hubby’s office (nice! embarassing!) because I put little sis in the car first. Man, what is it with me and my need to comply with child car restraint laws? But I digress. Logistically I cannot put a 30+ pound child her carseat while holding an extremely active 20+ pound chunk of baby with one arm without throwing out my back or nearly dropping the baby. So I open the door for Caitlin and while she climbs in I walk around the car and put baby sis in her seat, strap her in her carseat, and then walk around and strap Caitlin in her carseat. Maybe there’s a more efficient way to do this; if you know, do share. Caitlin was screaming, crying, and refusing to get in the car by doing that annoying arch the back movement that is innate to small children. I tried the age-old “Santa is watching you” threat, but to a 3-year-old who sees the world quite literally, that doesn’t quite fly. Then I told her she wasn’t going to get any toys from Santa if she didn’t act like a good girl and get in the carseat and she decided I meant business.

Misfit Toys

Originally uploaded by jamiemom.

My dad stopped by this weekend to drop off some gifts. He also came in with an armful of large wooden nutcrackers he had found in the basement and he thought the girls might like although they started losing body parts as he carried them in and asked if I had any glue. I am now the proud owner of three nutcrackers, two missing an arm from the elbow down, and one missing a nose.

“Mommy, mommy she’s eatin’ my maggots! She’s gonna choke! She eatin’ my maggots mommy!”

Translation, trade maggots for magnets. Caitlin got a U.S. map puzzle with little magnets yesterday at her daycare toy exchange and was having a fit because sissy was taste testing them (as she does everything).

Screaming Santa

Originally uploaded by jamiemom.

Here’s my contribution to the Christmas outtake photos of the world. Caitlin is 18 months old here and voicing her angst over being handed over to a strange bearded man wearing a big red robe. She’s been great at voicing her angst ever since.

Nine Months

Originally uploaded by jamiemom.

I can’t have a mom blog and not mention that Amelia Grace’s 9 month birthday was Monday the 12th. I know everyone says this, but the first year really flies by. She is our little explorer, crawling all over the place and doing extreme baby sports like trying to nose dive behind the TV. Happy belated 9 month birthday baby girl!

Caitlin is on this kick where she expresses her burning desire to go to the store every evening after pickup at daycare. She just went with her Daddy Tuesday and they picked up her 2-gallon apple juice fix for the week so I was trying to explain (yes, I know it’s impossible to argue with a 3-year-old) last night that we didn’t need anything from the store and we were going straight home. “But mama, daddy needs a deer. We need to get daddy deer at the store,” she says, trying to reason with me. For a split second I’m envisioning some reindeer Christmas decoration at the grocery store and then I realize she means beer.