Precious Gem

Here is another beautiful set by Desiree of Mia Carina Boutique. It is beautifully done - the embroidery is exquisite! I love the glorious tutu in my favorite shade of blue and the blings and sequins - wow!

That's Bruce holding up his precious gem. His long legs make a good backdrop!

Snacks for Santa

"Let's bake some cookies!" I suggested to the girls on Christmas Eve morn. "Let's bake some cookies for Santa!"

The girls were delighted with the idea and set to work. They climbed up onto the counter and dumped butter, brown sugar, white sugar, eggs, cinnamon, vanilla, flour, baking soda, salt and lastly, oatmeal into my big white bowl. They took turns mixing as we listened over and over to Billy May and His Orchestra play Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer. We put the cookies into the oven. As we waited for them to bake, we mamboed around the kitchen - shouting out together at the end of the song "What the heck is the Mahhhm-bo!"

When we had cooled the last cookie, Celeste carefully placed some on a plate for Santa - with a bit extra for his elves. She left Santa a cup of water and she laid out a bowl of water for his reindeer. Happy with her welcoming snack for St. Nick and friends, Celeste was ready to go to Nana's for Christmas Eve dinner.

Christmas morning, I lay awake and waited for the girls to discover their presents. Finally, after what seemed forever to me - they had slept in! - I heard a tiny pitter patter. It was Celeste. I heard her go downstairs. I heard her come back upstairs and get Emme. I heard her say "Emme! Wake up! You've gotta see this!" I heard the pitter patter of two pairs of tiny feet go downstairs, come back upstairs, and finally into my bedroom.

"Mommy! Daddy!" whispered Celeste excitedly. "You've gotta see this!" Bruce and I, with Brooke in my arms, took Celeste and Emme's small hands, and with closed eyes let them lead us down the stairs.

"Open your eyes!" Celeste ordered. We opened them expecting to see the presents Santa had left. Instead, we saw two plates full of crumbs, a half-eaten cookie, the remnants of a cut up apple, an empty cup and an empty water bowl. The girls were delighted.

"Santa ate the snacks we left for him!" Celeste beamed up at us. Miss Hospitality. "And the weindeer too!" Emme chimed in. Miss Hospitality Junior Miss.

Then and only then, did they check their stockings, and later under the tree to see what Santa had brought them.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to all my Friends and Family!

...and if your oldest daughters go through the closet, find your baby's gift from Santa, pull it out of the box and put it together so they can play with it - don't put your head down and cry tears of frustration! All is not lost.

Take a deep breath and let them know that what they did was wrong - no yelling - even if that's what you really want to do. Explain that Santa had sent you an email asking you to wrap a few gifts for him to help him out. Explain that Santa had sent his gifts via UPS and that explains the big brown boxes in the garage. We all need to do our part to help Santa out!

Best of all, remind yourself that it's about family - not the presents and not about Santa. Put on an apron and get your kids to help you bake a birthday cake. A birthday cake for the guy who saved us from ourselves.

love,
Monica

The Annual Christmas Dance Recital

Celeste and Emme have been taking dance classes with Miss Jo at their little private school once a week after school. This is Celeste's third year and Emme's second. Miss Jo started teaching dance the same year that Celeste was in pre-school. She's a wonderful teacher.

Here are some pictures from tonight's dance recital. I'm not even going to go into what it took to get me and the girls there in time in the rain in one piece. All I know is that one of my good mom buddies, Kerri, saved me two seats in the FRONT row and the music room was PACKED.

I was wearing a baseball cap (slap some lipstick on - you'll be fine!) and the brim wouldn't let me hold the camera to my eye. There was no way I was gonna take that hat off, so I held Brooke while Bruce shot the pics. It was really crowded in there and the angle was odd, but I think he did all right.

The girls tried their very best not to smile. In the pictures you can see they are using all their facial muscles to fight it. I asked them why later and Celeste explained - "Because when we smile, the people laugh at us."



Here comes Suzy Snowflake!



Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree...







and Christmas In Hawaii...

Emme's Cowboy Boots

It's funny how somehow the DNA of family members is embedded in our children. It's funny how it shows - how it shows up undeniably and unmistakably in our children.

I have an uncle - my Uncle Lorenzo. He is about six feet tall. He has long hair, a beard and the high forehead and long nose of a Spaniard. Put a sword in his hand, give him some lace cuffs, and he could be Don Quixote.

My uncle has always looked this way. It's simply his style. His shoes of choice are cowboy boots. He has worn pointy toed cowboy boots as far back as I can remember. My uncle is a storyteller. He tells his stories with relish. When the drama escalates, he gets up from his chair and acts out his tales in the heat of the moment. I can see in my minds eye him lifting up one long leg and cocking his boot clad foot, preparing to kick a butt or two.

My uncle is awesome. He smokes cigars.

I think Emme has a bit of my uncle in her. She has recently acquired a pair of brown cowboy boots. I bought them for her to model a cowboy Santa set that I had been planning to make. (maybe next year?) Anyway, she LOVES those cowboy boots and wears them everywhere with everything. She looks pretty damn good too. She has long legs and narrow hips just like my uncle. She can tell stories too, just like my uncle. She is awesome, just like my uncle.

The other day, I was walking down the hall toward her bedroom. I spotted her from a few feet away. She was sitting on the floor near the wastebasket. She had just put on her jeans and was preparing to don her boots. I saw her grab them, pull the wastebasket toward her and empty out about a half cupful of sand from each one - just like a cowboy.

I left her alone, grateful to have witnessed that small personal moment - so rich with memories of my uncle - my grand, wonderful Uncle Lorenzo.

Celeste Turns Six At American Girl Place

I love the City of Los Angeles. I love it's new/oldness. The buildings - how the old architecture is tucked in between the new beautifully designed buildings. I love how in between, the plain but cool '50's and '60's buildings sit with their plain boxiness, atomic age wrought iron railings and spiky landscaping.

The mish mash of architecture is distinctively dotted with the signature palm trees. Green consistently accents the stucco pinks and greys, the glass and marble, the frescoes and bas reliefs.

The people are not unlike the architecture. There's the old world - the Hasidic Jews taking a Sabbath stroll. They add to the beauty of the city, with their wool coats and hats. The women, in their tailored outfits, shepherd lovely children and push shiny strollers filled with fat babies pink cheeked in the icy air.

The new world weaves their way among their peers. The young studio execs - making deals on their cell phones. Gorgeous tall homemakers pushing their shiny stroller while exasperated hubbies carry mountains of packages from J. Crew and Pottery Barn.

In between are the immigrants from nearby 3rd world countries. They came to the U.S. to get a better life, and it is clear that they have gotten just that. They walk happily, shepherding their tiny childen, pushing theirstrollers smiling at eachother with white teeth contrasting strongly with their suntanned skin.

Thiis is what I savored on the way to The Grove where American Girl Place can be found. We celebrated Celeste's sixth birthday there. It's a little girl's dream palace. A place out of a Shirley Temple movie. Escalators here, elevators there. Rooms dedicated to each historical member of the AG Family. Little wish cards that girls can collect and place in miniature folders. Just as good as shopping.

And when you get hungry - there is the American Girl Cafe. The food is wonderful. Dessert is served in tiny flower pots filled with mousse or peppermint ice cream topped with a silk daisy. The peppermint ice cream is pink and unexpectedly delicious. At the end of our meal, we checked to make sure no one was leaving a speck of ice cream behind. Not to be wasted! Every flowerpot was cleaned out.

The Cafe presented Celeste with a big cake shaped like a luxurious white gift tied with pink ribbon. The candles were placed higgeldy piggeldy in the center. I wondered how they stayed stationary. The candles were lit, and we sung to Celeste on exactly six years to the day of her birth. A day that marks one of the happiest of my life.

Toward the end, one of Celeste's very good friends Grace announced "Now that's what I call a party!" Amen, Grace!

Mia Carina Boutique

Brooke modeled these funky and oh so different sets from Desiree of Mia Carina Boutique. I took her out in the pink and zebra one the other day. I couldn't believe how many people stopped to tell me how adorable she was and where did I get this outfit?

You can find the auctions by looking to the right under my favorite Ebay ME Pages or by searching littlemissdesireev in Ebay.

Princesa

This is made with the Farbenmix pattern "Vida" . I love Euro patterns. Every time I see sets made with these patterns, I think to myself, "I want one!" I made this one this weekend, and I'm crazy about it.

My kids are always asking me to draw pictures for them to color. I've gotten pretty good at mermaids and fairies. I drew this particular fairy in a popular style. The original is hanging with tape right next to my computer. Celeste added the socks and black loafers. She also added the jewels at the points of the crown. I made a copy of the drawing and turned it into an applique.

I'll be offering it up as a custom auction in January.

Music To My Ears

Every morning, when we get in the car...okay every TIME we get in the car, the first thing Emme says is "Music Please!" So I'll push the button and Laurie Berkner, The Wiggles, Barbie, or whoever will sing their songs for our enjoyment.

This morning, I was not in the mood for cheerful lyrics. We were an hour late going to school, because I had had some food poisoning type problems at 4am this morning. In spite of my gastric woes, I managed to dress the girls and hand them a breakfast of toast and butter to eat in the Minnie Van.

"Music please!" Emme predictably stated.

"No music." said I.

"Why not?"

"Because I prefer to hear the sound of you crunching toast." I said sincerely.

"Oh man!" Emme moaned. "I prefer music."

Celeste's First Cartwheel

Yesterday evening, I was at the computer - typing the entry below - when Celeste walked in.

"Look Mom, I can do a cartwheel!" She announced.

I turned around to watch, and sure enough, Celeste made a near perfect cartwheel. Upon landing a graceful turn on her feet, she looked at me in surprise.

"Holy Crap!" I said. "You CAN do a cartwheel!"

Loyalty

Last night, I came home bearing a large basketful of homebaked cookies. All were delicious and all were beautiful. They were from Vanessa's Annual Christmas Cookie Exchange Party. I baked 72 cookies (12 one-half dozen packages) and came home with 72 delectable cookies made by 12 different people.

This afternoon I placed them all on a footed cakeplate and carefully placed a dome over them to keep them fresh. That alone was a pretty picture. It looked like something out of a quaint bakery. The cookies lay there sweetly - an edible arrangement, tempting anyone who passed by.

As I worked in the kitchen, Celeste was one who happened to pass by my display. "Mommy, can I have a cookie?" She asked.

"Yes! There are mint cookies, and orange sugar cookies, carmelized pecan cookies, and my favorite, mini chip teacakes." I offered.

I could have gone on pointing out the chocolate butterballs, the oatmeal coconut cookies, the toffee crunchies, but Celeste stopped me.

"Mom." She interrupted. "Which ones are the ones YOU baked?"

The vanishing oatmeal cookies - the ones I bake all the time, (only this time I got fancy and added dried cherries).

As my chest once again surged with heart swelling love for my loyal 6 year old, I watched her walk away content - one cookie in each hand.

And So The Bell Tolls

The mama praying mantis died this weekend.

You know, it was before her time. Praying mantises are supposed to live up to 14 months. This one was in her prime. She had just laid her egg sac.

Mrs. Margo thinks that a grasshopper that was sneaked in among the crickets gave her a mortal wallop before the mama bug ate it.

I think I saw a tear in the corner of Mrs. Margo's eye. I have to admit I felt a little sad too. I gave my condolences to the teacher.

"Oh don't worry." She said. "Praying mantises are like goldfish. You just flush them down the toilet and get a new one."

I can't wait.

?Como Amaneciste?

This morning Celeste serenely walked into the kitchen where I was making a pot of coffee. Her face was clear and free of worry.

"How did you wake up?" I asked her. "Did you have any bad dreams?"

She looked up at me with those big brown eyes that I love so much.
"No mommy. I didn't have any bad dreams last night."

We both smiled.

The Dream Catcher

Friday afternoon, Celeste brought home a kit to make a dream catcher. Her class had been studying native Americans for the past two weeks. One of the parents had donated dream catcher kits for each child to make their own. Since the kits were fairly complicated, Mrs. Margo sent them home as a weekend project with instructions to bring them back to school Monday or Wednesday to share.

Naturally, Celeste wanted to work on hers right away. My crafty fingers were itching to try out a new project and so I went to work. I ignored the instructions and made a beautiful dreamcatcher with string, beads and feathers which were included in the kit. To cover some knots that I had made, I glued some Perler beads directly onto the net part of the catcher. Lest you think I did it all myself, I must mention, that Celeste designed the color placement and pattern of the beads, floss and feathers.

We hung up the dreamcatcher on one of the bedposts Friday night. This morning, Saturday morning, Celeste came to me with a frown.

"Mom, the dream catcher didn't work. I had a bad dream." Celeste had learned that the dream catcher's job was to catch bad dreams so kids could sleep peacefully.

I didn't know what to say to that, but I did ask Celeste what kind of dream she had.

"It was a dream about bears chasing me." She said. She was concerned about the dream catcher the rest of the day. I didn't know how to help her.

Some time around 3pm, Celeste came to me with an idea. "Mom, I think that if I hang the dream catcher over my head, it will be able to catch my bad dreams. I don't think it could catch them from the bedpost."

She then went into the utility drawer and cut herself a piece of picture hanging wire. She took the wire and draped it over one of the slats of the bunk bed above her head. She fashioned one loop on each end of the wire and attached the loops to the dream catcher. When I went to look, I saw it well-positioned exactly over her pillow.

When nighttime came, we went through our usual routine and I tucked the girls into bed. I went to the computer to work a little bit. I heard the girls' bedroom door open. Emme came into our home office where I was working. She was frowning.

"Mommy, I can't sleep with the dream catcher. It's pulling the dreams out of my head." She said. Then with the graceful flow of her tiny hands she demonstrated how the catcher was pulling the dreams out of her ears. I went into the bedroom where I found Celeste frowning and sitting up.

I said, "Celeste, we need to move the dream catcher back to the bedpost or to the dresser drawer knob because it's making Emme have bad dreams, and if it's making Emme have bad dreams, then it's not working right."

"Mommy," reasoned Celeste, "It's not working right because you glued two Perler beads onto the net."

After some unsuccessful negotiating, I resorted to the truth. "Dream catchers don't really catch dreams girls. They don't catch bad dreams and they don't catch good dreams. They are just beautiful ornaments that the native Americans made to decorate their homes."

Celeste looked utterly disappointed. "But how are my bad dreams going to go away?"

"You pray." I told her. "That always works for me. It's not magic. It's real and it's the only thing that works. That, and thinking beautiful thoughts before going to sleep."

"But what should I think about?" Celeste asked.

We talked about her upcoming birthday and tomorrow's cookie party at Aunt Vanessa's. I moved the dream catcher to the dresser drawer knob and both girls were satisfied. "Mom, I have a story to tell you. It's a short one." Celeste yawned.

"Tell me."

"I can't remember. I just know it ends with happily ever after."

"Good night girls. I love you."

both: "Good night mama. I love you too."