tiffany's spot

I'm considering making my blog into a book. It would cost somewhere about $100. I know, it's expensive. I won't likely do it just yet, being in the post-Christmas red and all, but I'd definitely like to do it in the next few months. It's not even like my blog is profound, or that it would fly off the shelves in bookstores (unless there was a hurricane, tornado, or really bad kid there), but it would be kind of neat to have it in print. I have lots of stuff in here about the kids, and some day to day happenings and it might be fun years from now to look back and remember some of these silly things. Some people journal. I lose my keys.

Remember Simon ? He was our dog for two days. He went back home tonight. Although the kids loved him and I wanted to keep him Steven was not to be won over. I thought for sure he'd warm up to him, especially when he came home from work and the puppy met him at the door and hopped around and wagged his tail because he was super nice and lovey even though Steven was NOT. Anyway, I think I've got us on the short list for babysitting Simon from time to time, and hopefully we can steal him every once in a while for the day while Auntie Debbie is at work. Steven agreed to that, probably because he was relieved that I didn't just lock him in the freezer and let the dog sleep on his half of the bed.

I know someone who actually blogged every day this year. Crazy eh? And I read this other blog of this other crazy person who wants to blog every day for the first ninety days of 2012. Part of me wants in on it. Part of me says "Ha! I'm way too lazy and unimaginative for such nonsense." We'll see. I should probably try to do more. I have this dream (dream? Really?) of one day printing out my blog. Someday I'll tell the kids that I didn't need baby books, baby pictures, to keep all the "art" they make me, because I have a blog and that's at least as good as a half-completed baby book. What's new? Well, Christmas is over. I like Christmas. I also hate Christmas half the time. Funny how the biggest holiday of the year can inspire so many mixed emotions. It's not like when I was a kid and my mom would plan and prepare and organize our family's time and all I had to do was get up on Christmas morning, tear through my presents and eat

My house looks like Christmas threw up in it. The baby smells like sh*t. The kids are fighting over one of Elliot's toys. Tennyson doesn't want to pick up his gazillion army guys. There is somehow laundry everywhere. Don't even get me started on the box of stuff that was dumped out in the front entrance. I just want to go back to bed and let them raise themselves for a day. Is that so horrible?

Steven and I took the kids to the Island of Lights tonight. They love watching the different displays and being the first ones to "notice" something else. From there we drove through KokoPlatz. There's a street there that should probably be charging at least what the Island of Lights charges for admission. Our house has one string of lights. Just one. I keep thinking that we should jazz it up some, because the kids would love it, but there is so little time or extra money for that sort of thing these days. One day. It's Christmas Eve. The boys sprinkled reindeer food on the lawn and hung a special key just for Santa on the front door. Jordan found a perfect spot in the living room to leave three cookies and a glass of milk. An apple was added to that, because it's healthy (go Jordan!), and after careful consideration a second apple was added for Santa to share with either a reindeer or an elf. I guess it's up to him. Except for three presents we're d

1. Your real name: Tiffany Verwey 2. Your detective name (favorite color and favorite animal) : Purple Dog 3. Your soap opera name (middle name and street you live on) : Lynnette Fourth 4. Your Star Wars name (first three letters of last name, first two of middle name, first two of first, last three of last) : Verlyvewey 5. Superhero name (color of your shirt, first item to your immediate left) : Grey Phone 6. Goth name (black and one of your pets) : Black Ch loe 7. Your Porn star/drag queen name (name of your firs t pet and the first street you lived on-that you can remember) : Fluffy Division (yes really)

I have got to de-grumpify. I'm feeling very grumpy right now. It's totally the kids' fault, or maybe my fault, or maybe by Friday morning I've clearly drained the bottle of patience. Usually by the time the week is over I'm definitely ready for Steven to be home for a couple of days. Just ask him how happy I was the last weekend he was on call and was in and out every night for a week and then all weekend too. He think I was grumpy. I think my attitude was just reflective of his abhorrent desire to run out and unplug sewers instead of stay home and entertain me. Where was I? Right. Not my fault. Seriously though, the kids are pretty cute these days, when they're not fighting. Or awake. Or hanging on my legs at diaper gym and crying despite the fact that I go to diaper gym so that the little darlings can run off and play with their friends. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD - GO AND PLAY WITH YOUR FRIENDS CHILD!!!! The Little Miss is driving me nuts at dia

"It doesn't even make sense to donate glasses to Africa. It would make more sense to just donate a computer and then they could go online and order glasses for like six bucks, and if they ordered glasses for the whole village they would only have to pay shipping once." "This kid built a windmill of garbage and they could plug into that. It produces energy. Pretty genius kid. Everybody laughed at him until he built a friggin windmill and made electricity. Pretty awesome. Give that guy a laptop." "Your clacking is very annoying. You need to tone it down a bit. Now you're just doing it loud on purpose. Don't think I can't tell." Now he's dozing on the couch. He just about choked on some phlegm in his sleep. Serves him right. This is what happens - we want our husbands to turn off the tv/wii/computer/ipod and talk to us. Then this is what we get. I think he's being all intentionally weird so that next time I'll just let him h

I keep meaning to take pictures of stuff, but I forget. A lot. Just ask Elliot. Last night I went for dinner with my dad's side of the family. It was nice to have a chance to catch up with people in the midst of all the business of the season! Today I went Christmas shopping with Ange and Steph. It was fun. Food, spending, a couple of wrong turns and voila! - home 8.5 hours later, and a big mac heavier.

 A couple of weekends ago the ballet came to town. I had never been to a ballet and have always wanted to go. I knew Jordan would love it too, being that she's into all things princess right now.  Jordan loved it. She gasped each time a new ballerina came out, especially if she was wearing a different dress.  At one point I noticed that she looked a little sad as she gazed in awe at the performance. I asked her what was wrong and she said "I just have tears because they're so pretty." Then I got a little teary thinking about the depth in this small child. She's such a mix of dresses, dirt, frogs and pretty things. I love it. I'd recommend the ballet to anyone, especially when it's a shorter performance showcasing dances from multiple ballets. The stands were full of women with their little girls, all excited to be there. Can't wait for it to come back next year!

 Tonight was the Awana concert at Jordan's friday night Awana church. That was a horrible sentence. It's okay. It's Christmas! Here's Jordan in her cute little dress.  Jordan's hair. People asked me if I had taken her to a hair dresser. I'm proud to say that no, I didn't. I did it myself!  The boys, misbehaving in church. Tennyson told me ahead of time that he was going to go and change into something "fancy." I didn't realize until we got to church and I helped him out of his jacket that "fancy" meant X-Men. Mitchie ended up in the nursery. Then it was Mommy's turn to giggle in church when we could still hear him ROARing in the sanctuary. Boys.  Elliot. Probably should have left her at home. I'm pretty sure she's recovering from the seasonal flu - the same seasonal flu that spiked her fever and sent her into convulsions on Monday. Look how happy and sickly she looks. Poor baby.  The Awana kid

Half naked baby out in the snow? I'm filing this picture away for the day "someone" decides to trade me in for a younger model and then take all my kids to live on their romantic island with them. That's right. You're all mine now baby...

The thing about little girls? They negate the need for me to play with barbies. Remember reluctantly putting away the barbies when you were twelve nine? Me too. It was time to grow up. Time to stop dressing up dollies. Time to think about boys even if all the boys in your class seriously sucked. No offense . Enter - the six year old daughter with hair down the middle of her back. Living barbie? Of course not. I'm way past that. But seriously, check out the picture! I wish I'd have taken pictures of some of the other styles I've stolen off The Story of a Princess and her Hair ** website. The author of the site is a hairdresser, and the mother of a little girl with long thick hair, and she's very nice about sharing ways to fancy them up. Not only that, she breaks down the styles so even a mom with ten thumbs can muck her way through them and end up with something cute looking. Would you believe that I've got a giant length of ribbon, five elastic ba