Way Behind...

I've had oh so many more important things to do than blog lately. Like organize my tupperware. And my armoire/office supply cabinet. And the laundry closet. For those of you who think I'm kidding, think again. I love this stuff and the beginning of a new year gives me the excuse to do it and look (to the rest of the non-twitchy world) as a normal person.
A summary of late. December was a whirl. We visited the bears downtown (an annual tradition).
We participated in a Gingerbread House building "contest" at a friend's house (a GREAT family fun event that I would recommend everyone suggest that someone else hosts :) ) Our house was purposefully designed in a "green" theme- complete with a roof that slid off to one side. That was on purpose, I promise.
The girls actually "got" Christmas this year. We spent Christmas Eve with my parents, grandparents and Uncle James. They may well have gotten more presents there than they did the next morning at home.

On New Year's Eve, we had friends over for an annual game night and this year we braved putting eight kids to sleep in our (LITTLE) house. Believe it or not, it worked! Here is how the littlest arrived. I'm told both he and his 2 year old brother were originally in this shopping bag, but I was too slow with the camera to gather proof.
Until next Christmas!

Dependency

Brett has often accused me of being "addicted to the computer". Probably a fair statement at times (this particular time included), but I think I'm in control. Addicted, no. Dependent, yes. Our dinosaur of a computer kicked the bucket for the second time last week. I just got it back after five long days of twitchyness. It's not like I'm sitting on top of the thing fiddle-farting around on stupid websites all day but, wow, I realize how many things I use it for. A friend called to tell me an author that we both like has a new book coming out. Could I get to the library's website to reserve a copy? No. Could I check to see what time REI opens? Check my bank balance? Or, even more importantly, check Facebook?? No, no and NO. Aaaak!
Oh well. Shane the Computer Guy fixed us up again and we should be able to survive until tax refund time. Of course, I had more "mental blogs" lined up than ever but could I post them? Of course not! I'll get to that soon. Until then, know that our Christmas was fun, New Year's was also fun and the return of preschool is even more fun!

Preschool Christmas Program

The annual Forest Hill Christmas program was this past week. This has got to be the time of the year where those teachers really earn their money because, wow, wrangling 150 (?) 2, 3, 4 and 5 year olds into a believable half-hour program takes more patience and energy than I have. The differences in Makena and Reese were so obvious this year. First, the 15 months Makena has over Reese make a substantial difference but, more interesting, is the first-child/second-child difference.
Makena did as she was told, stood with her class, smiled, sang her little heart out and absolutely ate up the applause and adoration. Reese, on the other hand, had better things to do...like reorganize where everyone was standing; collect all the props after various songs (jingle bells, etc); and convince her little buddies to be her accomplices. She started on the third riser, decided the view might be better from the top, wandered up there...didn't like that, stepped back down one row at a time and eventually settled on standing in front of the first row of kids directly under a microphone.
Makena giving it her all (yes, she's a cow with a rubber glove for an udder)
Reese's initial location (purple shirt, yellow shepherd's "hat")
Reese's preferred spot (note that the performer in her came out once she found center stage)

Ahhh...the Mall Santa

....our annual expenditure of $20 for the opportunity to take our own pictures. Because, really, even my somewhere-south-of-amateur photography skills turn out better pictures than the ones the Elves take.

Loberg Christmas Cookies

Growing up, we were a household of seasonal culinary predictability. For the past 35 (and more, I assume) our Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners have consisted of the same basics. At this stage in my life, I try to throw in something new every year and, every year, whatever-it-is is met with "oh- this is good" but nothing seems to make an entry into the annual hall-of-fame. This could be a silent commentary on my mad cooking skillz. Hm. I'll have to think about that.
The one constant in our baking world was a cookie recipe that came from my dad's mother. Pressed cookies are apparently a Scandinavian thing. Those clever Norwegians...calling them "pressed" cookies almost makes you forget that the main ingredient is butter. Ooof. Like 6 sticks of butter for one batch. But they're good. And little. Deceptive little buggers- it's not hard to eat 6 or 8 (or 10) in one sitting. 98% of my running miles after Christmas will be dedicated to these:
Let me tell you a little about the procedure. To make a large batch in my single oven is at least a three hour ordeal. Once the dough is made, you can't refrigerate it or it ruins. I have no idea why, but it's true. I learned it the hard way. Every year, as I put the 6 sticks of butter, 7 1/4 cups of flour and other ingredients into my mixer, I think "really?? is it all going to fit??". Then I risk a finger or two trying to keep the dough from rolling out the top of the mixing bowl.
Then the pressing part comes in. I am the proud owner of one Mirro pastry press whose design hasn't changed since its inception back in the 50s. Seriously- I look at the instructional pamphlet sometimes and the little peach and gray stylized drawings of happy, apron-clad, daintily-coiffed housewives are so dated. They should almost have little speech bubbles above their heads that say "I love to cook in my GE Electric oven and then clean up with my automatic dishwasher".
But, every year, my mixer wins the battle against the massive volume of dough (barely); I satisfy myself with the ancient cookie press even though there are much improved models advertised at the beginning of every season; and this year, I had helpers!
The end result: about 250 cookies (about half of which fit into this picture). I've done this twice so far this Christmas. If you didn't get any, tough luck. Wait until next year.

A few pictures

I've been remiss on posting pictures lately. Here are a few from the last week or so.
The great Christmas Tree hunt of 2009. We haven't braved the drive to the mountains to cut our own yet so we just trek down the street to...oddly enough...the same place we buy pumpkins every fall. And buy our pre-cut tree from...oddly enough...the same people we buy pumpkins from every fall.
Here are some of the annual leaf jumping episode. This was a much-awaited event this year and the pile did not disappoint. Reese, mind you, insisted on wearing brown flip flops. I had never previously considered how similar her shoe size is to Bradford Pear leaves.

Campout

As I'm finishing cleaning up from breakfast this morning, Reese runs into the kitchen and declares "we're camping out!!". Sure enough, there are blankets and pillows spread all over the living room. Fabulous! As I round the corner to check on the campsite, I notice Reese leaning up against a wall essentially doing a wall squat. My legs hurt at the sight of it, no thanks to Tony Horton.
Anyway, I asked her what she was doing and she responded "peeing in the woods."
OK.
(thankfully, she was not being literal)