Updates and ramblings

So I have been meaning to blog about this for a while now. Atty had his six week check up at Children's a couple weeks ago. I got to take all four kids. By myself. An hour each way. To the hospital. At lunch time. Through nap time. Tiny office. Waiting. Waiting. More waiting. I'm not going to lie to you all I was scared. So scared I planned ahead and even bought special supplies to entertain team *R* (as we call ourselves). I added in lots of extra travel time so that when we got parked in the parking garage we still had time to eat a lunch I had packed in the van where they couldn't run around and get distracted. I always like to add in extra time to nurse the baby too, which is never easy in public with three other little boys. That all went smoothly except they got food all over their clothes (of course) and so they looked nothing like their prior clean selves by the time we had to go in. Oh well at least their bellies were full...they listen better that way. Gave them a little pep talk about how we are a team and we've got to work together, did the team hand shake and away we went with a silent prayer for my sanity. All actually went well. I was so proud of them. Towards the end of the office visit they got a little squirrelly but I really just felt for them at that point because we were all feeling very Done myself included. The new cool pens and paper pads for each that I got worked to entertain as well as the special snacks I packed (do you see a reoccurring food theme here). We sang songs while waiting and I wrote words to sound out on the dry erase board in the office which they enjoyed. The harder part was when the doctor was in the room talking with me because they would then start to try and get my attention (or the doctor's) at times and that was a bit frustrating. Just because I really need to hear and process what Atty's doctor was telling me. The only time I started to sweat it was when two doctors were in the room towards the end of the visit and all the boys started to act out in different ways at the same time and I had to address the behavior while the doctors waited, just so that I would be able to hear. Sort of embarrassing. We survived though. I even had to take Atty to get A Lot of blood drawn at the end of the visit and not only was he amazing through the whole thing (which was awful, the vein blew before the guy got all the blood he needed for the tests, so he went to do the other arm and it didn't work and then he settled on the finger poke and squeeze to finish.) his brothers were also. I was distracted and sad when we left because there was a lot to think about and because they had decided to drastically up Atty's medicine which had me scared. They were even thinking about hospitalizing us again. I just wanted to cry. And yet I felt so overwhelmingly thankful for my wonderful children. I let them know how amazing they were and how their team work help me out so much and made an other wise hard trip easy-peasy (as easy as a trip with four littles can be). They felt pretty stinkin proud of themselves, as they should. We even got some pictures. Bubu's new favorite face. Ugggg. Look at Atty's great smile...even after getting all poked up. He got a new duck, his favorite thing ever, and he was loving it! I gave it to him when he was getting the blood draw to try and sooth things over. His brothers were so sweet about it and didn't fuss at all about the fact that Atty got something and they didn't. Which is hard for little kids to understand usually. I know that one well, I usually always have to buy three of everything! Which is why they rarely get new things, ha, ha!!

Oh and that stroller, yeah, it stunk. So embarrassing. It stunk and it was dirty and musty. I haven't used it since we moved and it's been stored out in the shed the whole time. I dragged it out the night before in the dark and shoved it into the van to be all prepared ahead of time. So I didn't notice the funky smell until I pulled it out and opened it up to go into the hospital. Atty wasn't walking very well at all at that point and I couldn't carry him and put the baby on my back, and hold onto Bubu and Spike, and carry every thing else too, so I had no other option but to use the nasty thing. Pretty humiliating. I guess we should have gone by the name of the stinky *R* team. Dirty kids, stinky stroller, can't get much better then that. At least they were well behaved little hill billy's.

So this is were we are at. For now. Three medicines and one that we went up on drastically. He has to take three of them in the morning and two of them at night. He was taking the third medicine at night but after a few days of that he started getting insomnia worse and worse to the point that he slept only about three fitful hours one night! I called and told them that between the little baby and a boy with insomnia I wasn't going to last so they suggested switching the med to the morning and that has been working a lot better. Atty is so tricky, any medicine that is suppose to be a sedative will make him hyper. This medicine that was keeping him awake is suppose to make you super drowsy which is why they wanted him to take it at night. He's got weird body chemistry I guess. I was reading in the side effects of this particular medicine that a small % of people got insomnia in the studies, and so of course Atty does too. He seems to like to fit into those small percentages. All the meds say that they make you drowsy, which they do make him act sort of "drunk" and fussy they just don't knock him flat like they do for others. Which is amazing considering how much medicine is being pumped into his little body right now. I have to admit I don't like it. I really don't. I do like that he is now (as of today) not having any seizures. Of course I like that. (Except for the tonic spasms he's still having those but that just comes out as a noise he makes.) ~I don't like that it is just suppressing the seizure activity not actually solving the problem (which I know they don't know how to do being as the brain is still such a mystery and all). I don't like suppressive medicine, even things like fever suppressors (I know, I know) I'm not going to get into a big long reason of why. I will say that I feel like when you suppress stuff instead of getting to the root of the problem, it can manifest its self as a different problem because its got to get out some how. That doesn't mean I never use medicine to reduce high fevers or get ride of a massive head ache, I just try not to. I'm a natural gal that's all there is to it, so I try other stuff first and often it fixes the problem. Am I getting weird enough for ya? Really that's stuff for a whole different post if I was so inclined. ~ Any ways I also don't like all the side effects of his medicine, sort term, and all the possible side effects long term. Some of the stuff straight out of the pamphlets is super scary. At one point they put Atty on a medicine, right before this last new one, that ended up making everything worse and that was really frustrating. It was a stupid mistake and they should have known better, even his main doctor said that. It was a really bad set back that should have been avoided. I don't like that it seems as if my child is an experiment. All the meds he is on haven't even been studied in his age group, nor have they been studied in this combination that he is on. I know that the doctors are frustrated too because he is not an "easy case" but they just seems so flippant about everything and that annoys me. I do feel blessed that his main doctor happens to be the only doctor I liked in our whole hospital experience, so that is nice. Although we of course still have different views hers being more main stream and mine being more alternative we still seem to be able to mutually respect each other. Something I haven't felt from any other doctor there. I keep reminding myself that we are hoping to get him on only one med as soon as it gets to a therapeutic dose and then ween him of the others, but in the mean time it makes me sick to my stomach giving him all this medicine and I keep praying that the side effects will be minimal and mild.

*

Have I mentioned yet that Atty is such a trooper...absolutely resilient...amazing...and quite possibly the sweetest kid on planet earth? I am so proud of him and his positive can do attitude!

My sanity is fleeing...

Because-

• we are starting a third medicine. Three medicines at the same time. Three.
• he is still having seizures.
• his face is painful to look at and I'm sure painful for him to live through.
• thinking about how much his body must ache by now is making me sick to my stomach.
• I've had to give him an emergency med every day for the last four days on top of the medicine he is already taking, just so he can eat and have a bit of a break from the constant muscle contracts, not much of one, but a little bit.
• It is taking forever to get him a helmet.
• trying to keep the daycare going is the last thing I want to do and that makes me sad.
• the financial stresses that already existed are just getting worse.
• I barely have time in the day to enjoy my baby girl. My last little baby.
• the constant phone calls and appointments are getting overwhelming.
• my husband and I are going through a rough spot that might end in separation.
• on top of the demands of a nursing baby, I now have a three year old who can't really do much of anything for himself and two boys who have suddenly forgot how to do anything on their own either. Atty can hardly walk, talk, or feed himself right now. He's drinking out of sippys again and wearing pull ups. Needs constant intense supervision. Extra love and attention, consoling after seizures and when he gets hurt (over and over again). The other two boys see this and start trying to copy Atty all the way down to pretending that they are having seizures. I am in no way ignoring them, in fact I have been trying to make sure I am giving them extra snuggles time, but they are still acting out horribly. And it's hard to be patient with it.
• I am absolutely sleep deprived.
• I have a constant headache or stomachache or both.
• I have to get our tax papers together and I can't even find a spare moment to do something as awful as that.
• The breaks on our van are going out, right when it looks like we will have to make many trips over an hour away to the hospital. Every time I drive it they squeak. Not good.
• my house is falling apart.
• my house can't fall apart because I am still trying to run a business. So even though every one keeps telling me to let the little things go right now for my sanity...I CAN'T. And even though I can't it's sort of happening anyways.
• I have a mountain of dirty laundry in the laundry room that no one could climb and another mountain of clean laundry taking over the couch.
• my Grandma just died and I have to go to her funeral on Sunday. I can't even process that.
• Atty's medical won't cover the new medicine they wanted to put him on, we have to try a different one first and then if that one doesn't work we can appeal.
• ...and I'm starting to swear a lot, it's not pretty. When I've reached the end of my rope, yucky words start flying out of my mouth. It's a weakness I can't seem to get rid of.
• I've lost all control and that freaks me out beyond all reason.
• my eyes are getting bad and I'm afraid to go to the doctor and be told that I'm having a flair up again but I know I can't put it off or I'm risking going blind, but I have no idea how I will even get into the doctor anyways with every thing that is going on right now. Wow that was a long pathetic run on sentence. That's kind of how my brain is operating right now. One big long run on sentence.
• my Rock in this raging river succumbed to stress and is no longer there for me. I can't go to him for comfort. I feel alone even though I have many wonderful friends. Depression is coming on in waves. My husband and I have been through many rough times, but I have to say he picked the wrong time to act out. Wrong time to be selfish.
• my mom and I had an argument when I was in the hospital with Atty that has yet to be resolved. It goes deeper then it sounds.
• I want a moment for myself. Without feeling guilty for wanting a moment to myself.
• I feel like I'm being hit from every angle and my feet are about to slip out from under me.

I braved it alone...

I did it.

Grocery shopping alone with three little boys.

OMGoodness. I had so many errands to run yesterday. So we started off going to Lowes for some gardening stuff, because the sun is starting to peak out around here! They did fairly well there, one buckled in, one in the basket part of the cart and one walking. Then on to the library to drop of books before they sent out a search party. Then I thought I would take them to a park for snacks and play time before attempting the...(drum roll please)...Grocery Store. So I piled them all out at a park we don't normally go to, and it was a disaster. There were a bunch of older kids there, playing tag, and they were just running all over everything and I was afraid they were going to trample one of the boys. At one point when Atty was trying to cross this rope bridge thing, another much bigger kid went over it, and poor Atty went flying off! The older kid didn't do it on purpose, but I'll admit I glared. So anyways I bundled them back up into the van, and promised another park to appease them. We went to this great park that I should have gone to in the first place. It's much smaller so it's less stressful, and easier for me to keep tabs on the little ones. They had a lot of fun. Although by this time I was already feeling a bit burnt out and since I hadn't been able to leave when I wanted to (a whole different story involving J who is now at our house.) it was close to lunch time. The grocery shopping had to be done though so off we went, worse time of the day with hungry tired little boys and a hungry tired mommy. The babies were sleeping by the time we got there. J was with us, but refused to get out of the van, so I had no choice but to face my fears hungry, tired and alone, I plan so well. I was close to tears a few minutes in. I grabbed two carts and buckled Spike into one, put a sleepy Atty in the basket part of the same cart and Bubu walked while I pulled the other cart behind me. Of course Atty woke up as soon as we started shopping and started crying. I had snacks in the back pack as always so I gave him the whole bag of his animal crackers, and the box of regular animal crackers to Spike. That helped until they started throwing them. I don't know if this happens to any of you with lots of small kids, but some people can be so rude. The stares are annoying enough as it is, but some people will actually give me nasty looks. Or act impatient with me as I am struggling around with my hands full. I don't let my children run amuck, or scream non-stop, or be rude to others. I am stern with them, I keep them under control, we try to be as polite as possible. I just don't get it. There was only one lady that was super sweet to me, she was older and wanted to stop and talk to me and the boys. She was so nice and understanding that I almost cried. Embarrassing. Anyways we made it through the whole store and by the time we were heading for check out I could barely steer and pull the overflowing cart at the same time. I'm sure we were quite the sight. The boys really did very well, I was proud of them. Spike started to melt down while we were waiting our turn in line, but recovered in time. I paid, and heading for the finishing line, feeling extremely exhausted, and on the verge of tears, but super proud of my boys. They all got some black licorice after they were safely buckled in. Piled in the groceries, collapsed into my seat and sighed a huge sigh of relief that we all made it out alive. Had to make one more stop, but it was a super quick one so I left the boys munching licorice with J. I had more things I had wanted to get done, but we had all hit a wall so we headed for home. Of course when I got home I still had a super messy house to clean, so that's when the tears really started to flow, pregnancy hormones took over and I sobbed my way through a mountain of dishes.

My sweet, sweet hubby did say that he would rather do the shopping for me on his way home from work then me having to do that again. I might take him up on that, although he just doesn't seem to be able to get the deals the way I can, and he always forgets something, or I should say many things. Practice makes perfect though right. I make a habit of taking on more then I should, I do need to continue learning to let go. It's a hard one for me, being the control freak that I am. ;)

ducked out...

Thanks to all of you who left me comfort and advice on traveling alone to the grocery store when you are out numbered by children. I wish I could say I armed myself with that advice and bravely met my doom, but alas I chickened out. My mom ended up coming over for an overnight visit and being the gracious daughter I am I figured she was craving some quality alone time with her grand kids so I ducked out to the grocery store, ha, ha. I had already taken them with me earlier to go shopping for a birthday present, before then attending a birthday party with them at a children's museum (So fun... large group of people, lots of distracting things, three excited boys, all alone). Plus while we were out shopping, I got the crazy idea that I should take the boys out to lunch (which we never do) and we went to a fast food place (which we never do) because I was craving a chicken taco salad. I decided to take them inside instead of going through the drive through. One because I needed to study the menu and figure out what I could get Atty that was wheat free, and two because I thought it would be nice to sit down and eat out with the boys, a treat of sorts. Now I remember the main reason why that was crossed of the list. It's not fun, and they didn't eat barely a thing. The babies wanted to jump on the benches and Ira started squawking because I wouldn't let him run around and well let's just say I didn't enjoy my taco salad as much as I wanted to and that made me grumpy. So by the end of the day I was super burnt out and thankful that I could sneak out the door alone. I did check out all the car carts at the store though, and they don't have the cool one that Kat mentioned, so irritating. A friend of mine remind me that they have one of those childcare rooms that you can leave your kids in for a short amount of time. I've never used the service, I'm a little freaked out about my kids being exposed to some nasty germs or something. I might try it out for Bubu, although knowing myself so well, probably not. I would be too stressed out about how he was doing and whether or not he was safe, that I just don't think it would be worth it. The helper idea is a great one, Bubu loves being a helper, I'll just have to add another hour on for all that extra "helping". The hands on the cart idea is another good one, that I know at least Bubu will understand. So again thanks to everyone and maybe next time I will put your ideas to good use.

brain drain

So yesterday, not so good.

First I was in a hard place emotionally because of some things I shared in my last post, but other then writing about it, I keep it to myself. So I was trying to be up beat, and not fully feeling it.

Then I knew that Tanks biological parents were calling sometime on his birthday, but I didn't know when, and that always makes me feel on edge.

I was feeling tired and a bit sick.

When I went to lay the boys down for nap, I had to move the ladder to the bunk bed because I had to go back out of the room and I was afraid that Atty would try to climb it before I got back in. So I started to shove it to the side, it's really heavy, and it caught on the fan cord that was plugged in and some how ripped the cord off the fan, and sparks started flying every where! I screamed and started say what I apparently say now in all freakesh situations "Sh%#", over and over again, as I lunged for the cord to pull in out of the outlet. So absolutely frightening!! So that being done, I finished getting the kids tucked in out in the living room and went back in to the bedroom were the babies were now screaming. I grabbed Tank and went to step into his bed, and slammed my baby toe on the wood frame. Ouch. My baby toes serve no other purpose except serving themselves up for extreme torture. I slam those suckers into everything. I think they've been broken and sprained numerous times. They hurt all the time, because they never have a chance to heal before I am slamming them into something else. It's like I have a vengeance against my own ugly toes. So needless to say, I was not a happy camper!

Then when I went to use the bathroom after the boys feel asleep, the bathroom lights didn't work. So I called Ryder, and he said he would take a look. When he came home, he discovered that our bedroom didn't have any power at all! So some how I blew up the power in those two rooms with the whole sparking fan episode! He starts saying we are going to have to get an electrician, and they might have to rerun wires, yada, yada, bla, bla...urggg! So he gets into a real funk. Starts snapping at me. Which just kills me, I totally can't handle that right now.

Then Tanks call came from his biological parents, which is always hard for me to handle gracefully. I do manage through, but it's not easy. This whole situation has torn our family apart in a lot of ways. It's really hard to deal with people who have serious mental health issues, I get really irritated by the ridiculous things they say. I know it is hard for his biological mom to realize that I am Atty's mom, but when she says "it's your mommy, it's your mommy..." over and over again to him on the phone, and I see the confusion as he looks at me, it really pisses me off! I can't help it. She has been told that we are calling her mommy M____, and that she is welcome to say that, but we don't want her just calling her self mommy, because it is confusing for him, but she doesn't listen. Or understand. Or care. I don't know. Then Atty starts saying Mom, really excited, as he looks at me, because he knows that word. So it just eggs her on because she thinks he's referring to her. I know if we were both in the same room he would come running to me, which I know sounds mean, but it's true, because he doesn't know her or think of her as his mom. I don't know how to explain how this makes me feel with out sounding mean.
I put them on speaker phone so I can hear what is going on, and grab the phone if it gets to weird. They have said things before like, as soon as you get old enough you can run away and come live with us again. Or, hope your aunt isn't to mean to you. Lots of things that are negative, things that will be hard for him to hear as he gets older. His biological father get nervous or something and doesn't know what to say to Atty so he starts blurting things like, "don't bite anyones hair" or "I guess I'm your brother now, hi brother" just random, weird things. They still call me aunt to him, refusing to acknowledge that I am his mother. Even though they know we are adopting him. His mom didn't want us to be able to adopt him, she tried to get him removed and placed with strangers. In her head this would insure that he would come looking for her in the end. She use to tell Atty that we stole him, and accuse me of that in letters. I took Atty in for them and for him, so he would stay with family. It's hard to know that they will never appreciate this, or understand why he is with us instead of them. Instead I get anger and resentment, accusations and lies. There are so many things I have had to deal with from them in the last couple years, it just goes on and on. I never know what other drama there will be every time we correspond. That's why is stresses me out when I know they are going to call.

So after all this my sister calls and tells me she is going to be a little bit late bringing the van back because she had to work later then usual. Totally wouldn't be a big deal except I needed to run a casserole over to a friend that just had a baby and I had to stop at the store on the way, and then rush home to have dinner with the family, and cake and presents for Tank before bedtime. So it threw my schedule off, which drives me crazy. So I very (im)patiently waited for her to get home. While I was waiting Ryder snapped at me again and I said something about it, and he could see I was on the brink, so he gave me a hug, which helped. Except that when I was leaving, I had my hands full, so he opened the door for me and bent down to grab the dog, and I smashed him in the head with the glass casserole dish. Which I could tell was the last straw for him, he wasn't having the best day either.

So I barely made it to the van before the pregnancy hormones kicked my ass and I started sobbing uncontrollably, as I drove, never a good combination. Such an overwhelming day. I made it to the store, where I stood staring at the prepackaged salad like an idiot, because they didn't have any organic salads. The family I was brings the food to eat mainly only organic, so I just stood there, brain dead, not knowing what my next move should be. Eyes red and swollen, just staring at the salad case, picking up one after the other, and setting them back down again. I'm afraid I might have stood there for about ten minutes, I am not quite sure. I finally picked one that was on sale for 99 cents and then grabbed some garlic bread and went to pay. I was so out of it that when I was charged over six dollars it didn't even register that something wasn't right. Until I got out to the van. I just couldn't handle it, and I seriously started crying again. Stupid pregnancy hormones. I struggled to get myself under control and went back into the store, even though I was running way behind, got my 2.50 and ran back to the van. At least getting some money back made me feel better.

Anyways, I dropped the food off, visited with a smile on my face for a few minute, and then rushed back home were much to my relief my amazing husband had been able to fix the electrical problem....whoooohooooo! We had a nice night together after all, and everything went back to normal, whatever that is.

Now that I have ranted and raved on here, I feel much better. It's such a brain drain. Now if I can make it through this day without to many emotional melt downs I will be doing good. Me and pregnancy hormones, we don't get along well, and that is the understatement of the year!

Yet another sanity stealer.

So today is the two week anniversary of the mysteriously missing hot water. That's right, our hot water tank is still busted. It's been a long two weeks. One ridiculous hang up after another. My poor sweet self sufficient, no make that stubborn, husband is determined to fix it on his own. After waiting almost two weeks for our next day package (whole different rant, let me just say UPS is evil) to show up with the part we needed, because it just happens to be the only part that has to be ordered not picked up from the hardware store, it turns out that it's apparently not the problem as assumed.

My husband was so excited when he saw Tuesday morning that the part had been delivered some time in the quiet of the night. He was so determined to save us all from the horror of not having any hot water that he proceeded to rip apart the tank and install the magical part right then and there. An hour into it, and now officially late for work, he realized that his guess on what part to order was wrong. Good thing the boys weren't up yet, cause the words spilling out of his mouth were definitely not PG.

I then got to spent the whole day on the phone with the water heater company trying to figure out the list of things my hubby wanted me to ask them while he was at work. I found out were to get the part he now thinks is the *real* problem and he went and picked it up after work. This new part required emptying the entire tank with a hose, which required the door to be cracked open in the dead of winter and caused the babies to sense a chance to escape into the night. Fun stuff. Poor hubby fiddled with the stinking water heater all night, skipped dinner, stressed and struggled and by ten o'clock it was apparent that no fix was in sight. I begged him to call it a night. Gently suggested calling a professional, but calling a professional is like asking for direction, nether of which my husband will do until he is literally, not figuratively, literally bashing his head into a dead end sign. Urrrrrgggg! I know we can't afford getting a professional in here either, but we can't afford for my husband to lose his sanity, and this water heater is a sanity stealer.

I have been trying really hard not to add to my husbands stress by nagging at him about the lack of hot water, because I know he is teetering. If I have to go one more day though heating water on the stove to wash dishes and sponge bathe, my uncharacteristic patience with him in this situation will evaporate.

life is the most precious gift of all.

I was reading my brothers blog, he lives in Japan, and he mentioned a story about a man who worked at Walmart who was trampled to death on this last Black Friday. Trampled-to-death! I wonder if he was a dad, or even a grandfather, I know he was some ones son. A life was destroyed, stamped out, all over a deal on some cheap merchandise. Some material item of no intrinsic meaning.

It makes me angry, I have to say this has jaded yet again my view of this holiday season. Greed and selfishness have no part in this season, or anytime of the year really. And yet it seems as if this holiday season is permeated with the slime of the self centered Me, Me, Me's...in the pretense of giving to others. I am so tired of it, and I swear it gets worse year after year.

I have to admit that I myself have been in the mean spirited, impatient, get out of my way you idiots, state of mind in years past. I get way to wounded up and stressed out when things get frantic and start letting myself feel as if I just have to buy the perfect gift for everyone, and I'm simply not prepared for the Big Day looming in the distance. But in the last couple years I feel this pressure to show through example, to my children, that this commercialism is not what Christmas is about. I realized last year, when I stayed away from the shops and crowds as much as possible, that it was easier to really feel the true meaning of Christmas for us.

We decorate and have lots of fun traditions, that's the good stuff in our family.

I have never been much for excessive gift giving anyways, it all seems so greedy and unnecessary to me, but now I am almost completely against it. It's not that I want my children to wake up to empty stockings and a tree barren of gifts, it's just that I don't want to program their little brains to think that it's all about how many gifts you can get, and what kind, and if they are cooler then their friends gifts, and who got the most. It makes me sad when I hear kids talking like this.

I can think of various times when we have been to some Christmas get together and the kids who were there would just rip open their presents in a blur, all at the same time, in there own little what did I get world, and then sit around an complain about what they didn't get. Even when I was a kid myself, I knew there was something wrong with that. In my family growing up we didn't get a lot of presents, but the ones that we did get we opened slowly, one at a time. We all watch the other people as they had there turn, shared in their excitement, waited in anticipation for our turn, and really enjoyed the moment as a family. There wasn't much to enjoy for me growing up, I had a painful childhood to say the least, but this is a good memory for me. My mom had a way of making things seem special, without the greed. This is what I want to pass on to my kids. There will be a few gift for each, enough to enjoy, without being excessive, and we will open them one at a time, and really enjoy the moment of giving together.

They truly do already have enough, when I look around the playroom, and in their over flowing closet, much more then a lot of other little children in the world. They are in need of nothing more, and the children who have nothing are lingering in my mind. Children not only without gifts under the tree this year, but without food for their belly's and clothes to keep them warm. So as we go into another December, I am desperately trying to keep my perspective, not get caught up in the commercialism that is blaring everywhere, and remember the truly altruistic spirit of Christmas. Giving to others unselfishly is great, but I feel giving excessively to others who already have more then enough...that just doesn't seem right.

For us in our family Christmas is about celebrating the birth of Jesus, so I strive to balance that with the rest of what Christmas has become. SANTA (that's a whole different rant).

I think the most important thing to remember this holiday season and all year through is to not take for granted how precious every life is, and what a gift that alone truly can be. The best gifts I have been blessed with are my beautiful boys. Nothing else compares, and they didn't come under a Christmas tree.