Not Dead?

 

 

It’s been quite some time since I’ve posted here. Things have changed since the last post, including (but not limited to) us moving into a house that we own, Cole Michael and Evalyna are now a year older, we invested in a DSLR camera, and I had brain surgery! It’s weird that things feel like they haven’t changed all that much, while at the same time feel like things are totally different! Evalyna is 100% kid, no baby in sight, playing with her friends and leaving me behind. Cole Michael has turned into a total toddler; tearing up the house, leaving disaster in his wake.

Now here’s the part where I say that I’m gonna start updating here regularly again. But let’s be honest here and all acknowledge how utter crap that is.

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Season’s Greetings!

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We have opened our family presents! (Did so on the 21st) Evalyna had already seen one of her gifts because I’m super bad at hiding them. Cole Michael wasn’t all the interested in opening presents until he noticed Evalyna was into it. Then he was wanting to help. He also was only really excited about one of his gifts. The other ones were a big “Meh”. Evalyna loved all her gifts already.

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School “Winter” Parties

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This post is going to be about how much fun Evalyna had at her Christmas party at school. (I heard both Christmas and Winter party). It’s not going to be about how they were allowed to throw a Winter/Christmas party and not a Halloween party. At all. Nope. Not bitter about it one tiny bit. This is going to be about Evalyna.

She had TONS of fun. Well… She had moderate amounts of fun. I kinda had forgotten how boring class parties can be. And helping her teacher with the passing out of food gave me war flashbacks for working in the two’s room years ago. They watch the original How The Grinch Stole Christmas and ate their weight in high fructose corn syrup. And then were sent home with more sugar. (Evalyna’s bag of candies may have lost all the candy… somehow) They weren’t allowed to leave their chairs and were expected to be a bit quiet. When it came time to go home, the ritual of putting on jackets, backpacks, the works, was 100% chaos. The cupcakes were kicking in, eyes were wide with sugar high.

There were two other parents there, and I only know of one’s kid. And that’s only because she complains every day about something when we wait in the pick up line. I never really talk to the other parents. I don’t know what to say. I know they think I’m crazy though. Between my piercings, babywearing, and breastfeeding, it is pretty obvious. Throw in that birth (and people’s birth stories) came up, they found out about the home birth, and now I’m the weird mom. Oh well. Better let it be known now!