Trouble with the law and a quick story about how Molly busted out (of her swaddle)

Hey there friends, hope y'all didn't come here expecting a Christmas recap, because ohmygosh I'm Christmased out and will not be recapping anything. If you want the short version, I ate too much, saw a bunch of family, got spoiled rotten (along with my kids), got to Skype Steve on Christmas day, and managed to get a picture of the kids and me smiling simultaneously. If you want the long version, well you best come on over and bring a bottle of wine and we can go over the details. Overall? I'm calling it a success.

As I mentioned here, I made the trip down south by myself. Well, myself plus the two kids. And the dog. And Wee Steve. And my Depends. But we made it, everyone behaved as if they had been snorting magic and unicorns, and I arrived with my sanity in tact (but not my dignity because hello diaper).

I'd love to rehash Advent Calendar Activities: Week 4 with you, but naptimes didn't align with the stars while we were at my parents' house (aka everything was closed by the time naptime was over), so the last three days of activities didn't happen. But luckily we were busy hanging out with aunts and uncles and grandparents and the kids didn't seem to care. Not to say that they cared a bunch about Weeks 1-3, but you know, it got me through a big holiday during this deployment and I'm just gonna say it: that Advent calendar was for me. ME. I know, I am so selfish. Maybe next year my kid will be more open to eating ice cream and painting ornaments instead of his head. (Oh who am I kidding, I will probably need to be on medication before I can attempt to let a child paint in my general vicinity ever again.)

Molly spent (not a lot of) her nighttime sleeping in her sleeper-rocker. This has been what's she's slept in since birth. I think the person who came up with this creation should be knighted with sainthood. (Proper terminology is my forte, dontcha know.) About halfway through our visit, she decided she was too big for this bed. (Side note: She has been too big for this bed for approximately 8.5 of her 9 months.) Instead of just lying in bed next to me and sleeping peacefully, she decided to wail in everybody's faces. And since private rooms were at a premium (meaning: no one had a private room), most everyone was disturbed in some way or another by the late night/early morning shrieking. I like to call it: The Lord's Most Natural Form Of Birth Control. Amen.

Now that we're back home, she has slept in her crib for the first time, unswaddled, successfully. Can you even begin to imagine what it's like cramming those thighs (that easily make 2T pants look like sausage casings), all greased up with vasoline, into a swaddle that was clearly made for a BABY?! You can quickly work up a sweat doing so. But she's doing ok in Sam's old pajamas and will hopefully start sleeping like a normal person very soon.

On the drive back home, the kids were good again. Slightly whinier, but still exceeded my expectations. (For the record, I set my expectations staggeringly low.) I was hummin' along, pumping, making nice time when I see a car on the side of the road with their hazard lights on. I scoot over into the other lane and then I look in my rearview to see it: blue lights. I had just been caught in a speed trap. While wearing Depends. And pumping. Awesome. I didn't have much to say to the officer. I realized that the speed limit had just changed and I was too busy singing along to my main man Jason Aldean to notice. Sam thought it was the coolest thing and Molly couldn't stop laughing. Odie was overcome with a pug-tastic snorting attack. Hard to work up a sob story with all of that going on. And the whole lactating-while-driving thing was going to be hard to explain if he asked. I just wanted the traffic stop to END. And quickly. Fortunately, it did. And he didn't ask what I was hiding under that cover or if that bag with the tubes attached was used to make meth. He just wrote me my ticket and sent me on my way. So that, my friends, is the story of my first-ever traffic ticket.

And, there you have it. A sorta-kinda recap of Christmas. Even though I said I wasn't going to. That look gets me every time! Now who's going to bed before 10pm on New Year's Eve like me?

Advent calendar activities: Week Three (AKA the post where I wear a diaper with no shame)

Catch up on Days 1-7 here. And Days 8-14 here.

Day Fifteen:
Live nativity.

Popcorn. Naturally.

Horrifically blurry phone pictures. My apologies.

While this was a legit drive-thru nativity, if you were blind and in the car with us, you might have mistaken it for a safari, as there were lots of animals worthy of note.


Day Sixteen:
Make gifts for teachers.

Sam did not so much make their gifts, but he did manage to decorate these trees for them. I told him I'd take care of the rest.

No, I'm neeeeevvvverrrrrr on Pinterest. Why do you ask?

Day Seventeen:
Exchange gifts with Aiden and Levi.

Aiden is Sam's BFF. Levi is Molly's future husband. They typically wear bowls on their heads (Sam and Aiden) or suck on cars and paper (Molly and Levi), and it's pretty safe to say that they basically did the same during our "gift exchange." Molly ate people's presents, Sam refused to touch the presents, and Aggie and I did our best to chat it up while the little people were somewhat occupied.

You couldn't take as many blurry pictures as me, even if you TRIED.

CUTIE.

Aggie's phantom arm. She. is. fast.

Day Eighteen:
Preschool Christmas Party.

Luckily, I found out about the sign-up sheet for this party first, so I got to bring my famous recipe for juice boxes and every kid was just as happy as Sam is here.

100% juice, man! There's no water in this! I can feel the sugar coursing through my veins as we babble!

One mom got a little Pinterest-crazy and made all sorts of things that toddlers could care less about, but yes, I took note. And yes, I thanked my lucky stars that I only signed up to bring juice boxes. Because really- who's got time for that?

He thinks he's "sneaking" some goldfish. It's ok, Sam. I know there's gluten in there. But it's a special day- have some goldfish! Go crazy!

Day Nineteen:
Pick out a toy to donate.

Sam decided to get a little boy the same helicopter and humvee (ohm-bee) that he enjoys playing with at home.

Molly went with a baby. But only because I told her we couldn't donate milk, no matter how happy that might make a child.

"But why is her head so small?! This is not at all realistic."

"And this is supposed to be a bathtub?? Only one of my thighs will fit in this thing. Ridiculous."

Day Twenty:
Pack for Alabama.

Steve is so dramatic- it was not that overwhelming. Also, yes, he does own clothes now. Although he definitely has the legs to pull off those little undies.

Day Twenty-One:
Leave for Alabama.

I decided to make the drive down by myself. Friends, I won't even get into the amount of anxiety I had over this. And although my mom offered to come up and ride back with us, ultimately, I knew she had a lot to do at home and it would be a waste of time for her to listen to all three of us whine about how long the trip was. So I put on my big girl panties (which, I kid you not, were a (very discreet) pair of ladies Depends), hooked myself up to my pump, loaded as many Sam-friendly snacks as I could cram into the front seat, remembered the dog, and headed down to south Alabama. I am VERY HAPPY to report that:
1) I did not need to utilize the Depends. I held it for 8 hours that day and yes, I am damn proud of that. (Also, yes, if you ever have the need to wear an adult diaper, I will totally recommend Depends and I even have a coupon I found inside the box in case any of you are interested.)
2) Sam and Molly were perfectly behaved. Seriously. The shock from that has still not worn off yet.
3) We made UH-MAZING time and I did not get pulled over by a cop. Jesus quite literally took the wheel.

So in a nutshell, we made it, we all survived, I didn't pee my pants. I'll count that as a win.

Christmas is coming! Are y'all ready?