IMPORTANT!!!!!!

An important message for my readers:

WE HAVE MOVED!!!!!

PLEASE CHANGE YOUR BOOKMARKS , and remember to follow us at:

3southernbelles.blogspot.com

Look for new features to the site as you enjoy what we're up to, or not as is the case the past few days. See ya'all there! (Couldn't resist, and I actually think that is the first -- and probably last time -- I have EVER used that word semi-seriously.)

stay tuned

2 going on 3 full days of being at home and I haven't blogged at all. Hopefully tomorrow I'll tell you all about the snow.

And ice.

Because we'll all be home again.

I'm in love...

WOW!

I'm quite upset that this awesome picture is a little less awesome because of "Pinky Dinky Doo" on the tv in the background. I think it is fabulous.

In fact, I would count it nearly as good as this one barring the background...

And then of course there is this one I have of an 8x10 at my desk with Greta -- over 5 years ago.

Stunning, even in a solo photo...

and finally,

he's not just handsome and photogenic,

he is an awesome father who will even play Dance Dance Revolution with 2/3 of his children, the final third not yet able to actually dance.

Happy Belated-on-the-blog Birthday Chris/Daddy! We love you!

New Year New Me

Not really. I couldn't think of a good title for this post, so really I am tongue in cheeking with what I see out there. Blogs are a dime a dozen. Any fool can -- and does -- have a blog. It gets me frustrated at times, am I just one of "those"? The masses? Well, yes, I am.

The ones who post their Year in Review.

Nope.

The ones who post their Resolutions.

Nope.

The ones who post their current reading list as well as their goal for the year. Well, maybe. I think I can do that for you. Are you ready? Here you go:

Now, moving on.

In between my games of Solitaire, which I have actually cut back on (Why can't I ever win 2 games in a row?), clearing my inbox of annoying Yankee Candle, Pottery Barn, World Market and a few other emails which seem to come almost hourly...I actually haven't been doing much. I realized I took very little Christmas pictures, certainly none of the ones showing my precious children lit while calming sitting amidst twinkling Christmas tree lights while surrounded by the intensity of the promise of presents. I'll try to start including a few soon, and luckily my sister sent some my way as well so that will help.

Here's the girls waiting to go to Build a Bear. It was a lot of fun, of course. I actually really really want the dress that Clara's animal is wearing...the shoes aren't too bad either. Hmm, what has my life come to me that I am jealous of the clothing a stuffed animal wears? Good thing they aren't too into Barbies, I could have a real problem.

Greta has a birthday party at the Bowling Alley today -- Chris and I are terrified that she will actually like bowling (she has been once bcfore and did) and we will have to go some time -- the grocery store is high on the list -- we are out of easy breakfast foods so now I have no choice but to make pancakes and I must create space for the Christmas presents. And that's just by 2:00 pm. Happy Saturday!

don't be impressed

It is with sheer force that I write this blog post. It's not because I don't want to, don't get me wrong. In fact, I have about 5 posts churning in my brain to write. But blogging is a routine, and once out of that routine, it's hard to get back in the saddle. It's hard to find those moments when this is important and fun to me. Which it is, once I get started. As I write this, Greta is at swimming lessons, Hadley is sleeping, and I finally turned on the tv so Clara (really me) could relax for a few minutes. I SHOULD be heating up the oven to throw in dinner, cleaning the dishes already accumulated in the sink, putting away presents that arrived in the mail being shipped from Christmas in Michigan, (it was like Christmas morning all over again. What a mess.) cleaning up the cat puke irritatingly close to my foot at the moment, cleaning any other number of rooms or floors in the house, or playing Solitaire. Our new addiction. Chris downloaded it to our phones a couple of weeks ago, and now we can't stop. We're both addicted, and that's an entire blog post all to itself. Hold your horses people, an entire post just on us playing Solitaire! I know, chain you down. Anyways, we're back to school/work this week, and back to our crazy life. I have found that pulling myself out of bed at 5:45 versus 6:00 really does make a world of difference, and if I could manage 5:35 I would be sitting pretty, but that's a goal for another week.

We made resolutions, and we've kept them all week. I really don't usually pay attention to resolutions, because why stress myself about breaking them, but these are some positive life habits that are fairly easy for us all, so I figured why not. I'm not going to tell you what they are, just in case.

I'm not big into "Year in Review" posts, so while I probably won't do one, you might see a Year in Photos. Maybe. There are too many other things to do, and I might have to squeeze in a game of Solitaire while dinner's cooking. In between the dishes. And the broom...and the, oh, laundry....

Patience

Oh to be 5 again.

Not really.

But oh to be 5, and have the pre-holiday excitement coursing through my veins. The mere thought of the magic of Santa just electrifying my very existence. The anticipation, the sweets, the holiday shows, the no-school, the travel -- the HOLIDAYISNESS OF LIFE. It's almost too much to take in.

Greta is completely beside herself with holiday glee. At least once a day she announces how "totally excited she is" (yup, totally) "I just can't STAND it anymore".

Oh to be 5 again.

When each day is a new surprise, each moment a fresh endeavor, each holiday a new creation, and each night cozy and peaceful.

Oh.

The Countdown is On

It's just that time of year. I'm glad this past week is over. The last week before a holiday break and -- whew -- we're all wiped out. We did manage to eek out a snow day in there, because somewhere in the county a rural road had a patch of ice. Oh well. Here's a quick update of the kiddos:

Hadley: happy as usual, though has given up sleeping. I was literally up 7 times with her last night. Not for long, but up is up.

Clara: enjoys singing. Her speciality so far? "Jesus loves me so you better not shout you better not cry...". It's going to be a new crossover classic.

Greta: is all about Santa. Our neighbor brought the kids each a gift today that "Santa" delivered to his house early. As Greta carried around the princess Barbie dolls, because heaven forbid she actually PLAY with them, she declared: "these toys smell JUST like Santa's elves!" I admit I had to take a whiff, thoroughly intrigued as to what smell that was. Turns out, plastic. Must've been a Chinese elf. (Get it? Toys, made in China.... Just wanted to make sure every knew I wasn't making a racial slur or anything.)

A post for the middle child.

You better watch out...

you better not cry...

you better not pout!

I'm telling you why!

Santa Claus is coming to town!

To My 4 month old

I need to freeze you, just the way you are.

To stop time from changing one fold of skin,

one bat of an eye,

one smell.

I need a magic memory to guarantee

that I will never forget

the softness of you cheeks

the grasp of your fingers

or the scent of your milky breath.

I need a photograph of every

moment you wake up

and the first thing you do

is acknowledge both of our existences

with a smile that moves your entire

head and makes your eyes change shape.

I need to jump into your eyes

to swim around and see what just

what you are looking at.

I need to know what you feel in your heart,

just as you know my heart

even better than I do,

for you lived so close to it for so long

and always will no matter

how far away you may be.

I need you as you are now,

but I need to watch you grow as well

to do your big things

and live your life

and make new skin, and new smiles, and new smells.

They might not always be as pleasant as they are now,

but I will love them because they

will be yours.