New.

Let's see. Where did we leave off? There were festivities. We did our presents Hanukkah-style, opening one a day for a few days leading up to the 25th. I think that helped with the appreciation factor. The frosting on our birthday cake for Jesus tasted faintly medicinal because of the fact that I assumed that my Mom would have milk and vanilla at her house. Only she didn't, because she had used up all of her milk and vanilla making an Italian cream cake the day before, and it was Christmas day and nothing was open so I had to use vanilla soy milk and vegan butter sticks. Which made the Best Frosting EVER from the Pioneer Woman's recipe site NOT even CLOSE to the best frosting ever. The kids didn't seem to mind, and I don't think Jesus minded, but I minded. I also, in the Christmas morning rush, forgot to pack any clothes for Harper. At all. Thankfully, my sister-in-law provided some essentials, and I reminded Harper that Laura and Mary probably wore the same clothes for 5 days in a row, and also remember how they were so excited about the orange and the penny and the peppermint stick that one year for Christmas??

I took some pictures of kids opening presents, only the lighting was poor, so they all look about like this:
That is a crystal growing kit. Harper's presents were mostly science-related. She got a Newton's cradle (which has been hopelessly tangled more than it has been functional) and lots of magnets and rocks. Hudson got his new drums a few weeks ago and more "Cars 2" paraphernalia, including a stuffed AND also a remote controlled Finn McMissile. He actually hugged them after he unwrapped them, and the look on his face almost melted my cold, cold, Disney-antagonistic heart:
Helena has been asking for a stuffed Cookie Monster for around 6 months. The Grandparents Pate happily complied, and also provided a large Raggedy Anne doll, which has been hugged approximately 1,000 times, and takes up most of the minimal room she has left in her bed. She is also deeply in love with this dress up ballet costume I let Harper pick out for her one day at Costco. The (very cheaply made, likely in China, hopefully not by children) blue lame' skirt is already torn, which bothers her not a bit:
She also LOVES her Philadelphia Chickens cd (thanks Kristin!) and she got her very own cd player for her room, so she can listen to her heart's content. Except that she listened to "Snuggle Puppy" on repeat for around 2 hours a couple of days ago and now the cd is totally scratched and "Snuggle Puppy" sounds like a backbeat for the DJ Jazzy Jeff and I guess I'll have to order another one.

Which, of course, makes me melancholy. A tangled Newton's cradle, a torn lame' skirt, a broken hatch on a spy plane, a scratched cd--it makes me sad all this rust and moths business. Then some friends lost their entire house to a fire this week. So. I've written about the Tibetan monks before, right? The ones who create the intricate sand mosaics on the ground where they might be blown away by an errant breeze at any moment? That's it. We create, hopefully something unique and beautiful, trusting the wind is not without its purpose.