The Great Snow Bank Escape

Leave it to a man to think like a dog.

When we arrived home from Norfolk last weekend, there were huge snowbanks in the yard form the holiday snowfall. We pulled in to the driveway and Colby said, "Five bucks says Mo climbs that snow bank out of the yard." Of course, he did nothing about the situation, as usual. The snow bank remained in all its glory just waiting to be discovered for what it was: the stairway to freedom.



The dogs were outside several times without incident. Then, around 11 am I had a feeling, as I usually do when the dogs are about to escape, that I should look outside. Sure enough, there was Mo just getting up and over the fence. There were no practice runs. No footsteps of hesitation. Just one set of paw prints up and over the fence. Damn. I sent Dade on the dog hunt and called Jefferson in the house to prevent his escape. Dade returned with Mo, and Colby returned from the store with a snowbank waiting to be vanquished. The conquered snowbank made a great fort for the boys.

Latest Book: Handle With Care

I fell into the Jodi Picoult trap again and wasted my time on another lame story. I just finished Handle With Care which is Picoult's latest book, I think. I've already read her book My Sister's Keeper, so I should've known I'd feel somehow robbed at the end of the story.

I understand the appeal of Picoult's books. I thought I'd like them because they have strained family relationships, court battles, and not-so-happy endings. I can't even put my finger on what it is I don't like. I just get to the end of the book feeling like I didn't like it.

Handle With Care is the story of a family struggling with their daughter's brittle bone disease. The mom decides to sue the OB/GYN (who also happens to be her best friend) for wrongful birth arguing that the doctor should've caught the disease in utero before 18 weeks gestation. Mom could've had an abortion if she chose at this point. Instead, the family is riddled with debt and the strains of raising a severely physically (though not mentally) disabled child. Chaos ensues.

The one part of this book that I found appealing was its confrontation of a woman's right to terminate a pregnancy. Questions arise: Should a woman be able to terminate a pregnancy just because the child isn't perfect or is she forced into motherhood no matter what? Is one quality of life more valuable than another? Should we love our children absolutely, no matter what? What about fathers - do they have a say even though primary care of the disabled child falls onto the mother?

Most of you know how I feel, and Picoult's book does a decent job of handling this very delicate subject with care.

Christmas With the Siebrandts

On Sunday the roads were finally clear enough to head back to Lincoln. After four nights at Colby's parents we were ready to go home. They were gracious and wonderful hosts, but I wouldn't blame them for wanting to see us gone. Seriously, four kids are always hungry, always messy, and always talking. It made for an interesting 4 days of seclusion.



We headed over the river and through the woods to Seward to my dad and stepmom's house through white and drifted snow. Oh. The highways were actually quite clear thanks to the men and women of the Nebraska department of roads. I can't imagine what kind of crappy holiday they all had.



At the Siebrandt home we ate a lovely meal, had some pie with our Cool Whip, played Rock Band, and opened gifts. I got Uggs boots (YAY!!) which I decided I could now have since my feet are done growing. The kids wanted to stay overnight with their aunts and uncles, but after days of no naps and late nights we thought it best they come home. Plus, both girls have colds again. Evelyn crashed on the 20 minute ride home.



So thus ends our holiday adventure. We braved bad weather, in-laws, and the worst apple pie ever (not yours Julie), but we made it home safe with all but one of our gifts crammed into the Vescapades van. Next year perhaps we could have a little less snow, but I don't think we could have any more fun. We love all of you out there in the Vescapades family!

And Dad, no I'm not going to call you. Just read my blog and stop saying that if I really wanted to tell you something I'd just call you. That's the whole purpose of the damn blog, Dad! Welcome to the 2000's, duh.

Christmas Day a Day Late

Because of the horrible weather, the Christmas celebration with my mom and stepdad was postponed until the day after Christmas. Unfortunately, my step brother and his family couldn't make it because of the snow. My stepdad wasn't there either because he had to go scoop out his shop so his trucks could get out on the road. We had a lovely time anyway eating candy and opening gifts. Christmas and Halloween are about the only two holidays that we allow massive, unbridled candy consumption. For the kids at least.



The kids got some great gifts, especially the girls. They got the dolls that poop and pee and the Littlest Pet Shop toys that they really, really wanted. Side note: those f-ing Littlest Pet Shop toys have far too many itty bitty rubber bands holding them in place in the packaging. Seriously, I'd pay more for them just to be piled in the box without all the crap holding them in.



We couldn't stay long because we wanted to be back on the road before dark. We were lucky enough to have my father-in-law's four wheel drive pick-up or we probably wouldn't have gone anywhere at all.

Snowed in With the Vescapades Family

By golly, we got that white Christmas we've been dreamin' about. Way too much white and not enough Christmas, as a matter of fact. Knowing that a blizzard (the worst Christmas snow on record) was headed our way, we left for Norfolk Wednesday night in freezing rain and snow. The trip really wasn't so bad, and we even got to go shopping a little on Christmas Eve. The weather was all downhill from there. I will be breaking my Christmas blogs into three separate installments. First, Colby's parents.

We spent Christmas Eve as we always do: with Colby's parents. Our tradition is to open gifts one at a time from youngest to oldest. Now that there are 5 grandkids, we've adjusted a little and let the kids open their gifts before supper and the grown-ups open theirs after supper. The kids got great gifts. Grandpa Dean built the girls a doll high chair, and the boys played with their new games. I got two aprons (a darling, frilly one from Colby and a handmade, more practical one from Colby's Grandma).



Of course, lots of cards were played and lots of beers were consumed. What Vesely holiday would be complete without beer and euchre? Dean made us breakfast every morning, which meant lots of bacon and sausage. I think I gained 10 lbs. just from sitting inside and eating.



We also got to have a lovely visit with our friend Chris who lives in Chicago and supplements his love of photography (nightengalephotography.com) with a job moving expensive art. The things he has seen and handled are works of art we could only dream of touching.

Christmas #1

Saturday was a busy day for the Vescapades family. It started with dance class at 9am, where I met Sara at the coffee shop/book store for some chit chat while Evie danced. After that, we all headed to Seward for Christmas with my stepmom's family. We haven't been to the Bennett Christmas for years, so it was nice to get together with everyone (even if I heard some of the relatives call Obama a Socialist. Seriously?? I guess those people really are out there.).

Later in the evening, the kids stayed at Grandma's while Colby and I headed to Crete for a party at his boss's house. It seemed like it would be a great time until 10 or 12 people started smoking in the house. That was our cue to leave. I didn't want to be rude, but I cannot physically handle the smoke. We left Crete and headed back to Lincoln for a little shopping.

Sunday morning Colby and I slept in and had a wonderful brunch at Green Gateau. Then we headed out for a little more shopping. We went to Seward to pick up the kids, came home and cleaned, and then spent the rest of the evening playing with the huge slot car track Colby bought for himself. It takes up the entire free floor space in the boys' room, and I'm sure it will be the cause of many disputes this week during daycare. Soren is addicted to it because she can drive the cars herself. The boys will probably break the track during one of their ninja battles. Good thing I saved the receipt.

Amanda and Heath's Wedding

Friday night was wedding #3 for my good friend Amanda. After a whirlwind courtship, Amanda married the ying to her yang, Heath. She makes a mess, he cleans it up. She's high maintenance, he's a laid-back skateboarder. She's loud, he's soft spoken. She never cries, and he cries at sappy movies.

They had a lovely little ceremony and open house at her parents' house here in Lincoln. Colby and I got all dressed up, and Carrie came from Norfolk to watch the kids. When we arrived about an hour early for the ceremony to help Amanda out, we discovered that the house was less than ready. Decorations were not done. Food and drink was not ready. Bride's mother was not ready. We spent a frantic hour washing platters for food, making punch, chilling champagne, lighting candles, putting out silverware and cups, and calming down the nervous mom of the bride.

After all was said and done, everything went great. Amanda and Heath got married and everyone had plenty of food and drink. One little girl broke her nose running up and down the steps, and Colby came to her rescue. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen so much blood pour out of someone. We met some great new people, and we wish the best for Amanda and Heath as they enter the land of wedded bliss.

A Mess??

As I was making lunch on Friday, my daycare kiddo Gavin came into the kitchen and said, "I made a mess in Soren's room. Don't go in there." Soren's room is always a mess, so I found it odd that he would tell me not to go in there. I walked in to this. With grilled cheese cooking in the pan. And Reese had a poopy pull up. Yes, that's every single book laying on the floor. Every. Single. Book.

Latest Book: The Widow of the South

I just "finished" the historical fiction novel The Widow of the South". I didn't really finish it though. I skipped to the far back of the book and looked at the questions in the reader's guide that basically clued me in to the end of the story. The story is based on the McGavcock family's plantation during the final months of the Civil War. The plantation becomes a hospital for the wounded and dying and eventually became a cemetery that still exists today. The main characters and events are based on actual accounts and people, but there is some exaggeration of plot events to make it more exciting.

I heard good things about this book, but I just couldn't get into it. It was written for the perspectives of many different central characters which meant a lot of jumping from place to place and person to person. I think that's what really turned me off. I got tired of having to figure out who's perspective I was reading.

In the end, I'd recommend this book for people that really love to read and don't need to be held in the grips of mystery and excitement at every turn. I can see why this is a good book, it just wasn't my cup of tea.

Cabin Fever

Countless inches of snow followed by below zero wind chills has made for a less than exciting week for us. The daycare kids are now totally wired with no outlet for the energy. Evie is beyond bossy and bratty. Gavin is a tantrum machine. Soren is a whiner, and Reese is entirely over-dramatic. They are right now and have been for the last few hours chasing each other up and down the hallway playing variations of Zombie and Police Chase. They are in desperate need of some type of exercise, but sadly about all I can offer them is a game of Simon Says and a little hall chase. They seem to be enjoying it, so I guess I'll just let them go until someone gets plowed over.

And no the little girls never wear their pants. That's how they roll.

Trivial Pursuit

I'm not one to play many card games or board games simply because I do not like to lose. I am, in fact, a very sore loser and have been known to throw things and cry. For real. Pretty much the only board game I play is Trivial Pursuit, and Colby and I make a it point to play at least twice a week in the winter. Last night our friend Cody came over for supper. He made strawberry shortcake Paula Deen style which almost put me into a diabetic coma. Evie had two helpings, and I'm not sure how she did.

I digress. After dessert the boys went off to play, and the grown ups started a game of Trivial Pursuit with a little help from our little girl cheerleaders. Unfortunately, Cody is not only a good friend but he is really good at Trivial Pursuit. He came into my house, MY HOUSE, and beat me at Trivial Pursuit. It really came down to the wire though, as all three of us had all the pieces of pie and were just waiting to get to the middle to strike the winning blow. Cody was just lucky enough to be the winner. REMATCH! REMATCH! REMATCH!

Three Snow Days?? Shut Your Mouth!

I think we have a experienced a phenomenon unheard of for as long as I can remember: three snow days in a row. I honestly can't remember having so many snow days. Ever.

The roads were so bad yesterday that even Colby couldn't go to work. Mr. I Can Drive In Anything couldn't get past the driveway. The plows finally came this afternoon, but until then we were prisoners in our little teal homestead. The kids played outside despite the bitter wind. The boys played Wii and toys and read. The girls watched The Little Mermaid a hundred times. Did you realize Ariel gets called a Tramp by Ursula?? This is Disney, people!! Colby introduced the boys to one of his favorite childhood games, Hero Quest, a game similar to Dungeons and Dragons. It took them hours, but they had a great time.



Of course the kids still woke up at 6 am. So much for sleeping in. Ever.

Gingerbread House

While grocery shopping at Target, Colby spotted a gingerbread house. To my surprise instead of saying, "Don't let the kids see that," he said, "Can we get one of these?" What? Who are you and what have you done with my husband? My hubby may be a loving and fun dad, but he is anything but patient or crafty. Why then would he want to make a gingerbread house with the kids? Hmmm...

The construction of the house was simple and without incident. Of course the kids were much more interested in the little candy pieces used to decorate the house than the house itself. They wanted to sample all the "delicious" gum drops, sweet tarts, and jawbreakers. Colby was not having it. I believe his words were, "Leave that candy alone or I'll spank your butt!" So being the eager to please mom and underhanded wife that I am, I snuck each child multiple decorations.



In the end the kids lost interest in the house, and Colby finished it himself. With a little help from his Old Gingerbread Lady.

A Mom's Letter to Santa

I found this online and had to share it.

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned, and cuddled my two children on demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school playground and figured out how to attach nine patches onto my daughter's girl scout sash with staples and a glue gun.

I was hoping you could spread my list out over several Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when I'll find any more free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:

I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache after a day of chasing kids (in any color, except purple, which I already have) and arms that don't flap in the breeze, but are strong enough to carry a screaming toddler out of the candy aisle in the grocery store. I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month of my last pregnancy.

If you're hauling big ticket items this year, I'd like a car with fingerprint resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking animals, and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper where I can hide to talk on the phone.

On the practical side, I could use a talking daughter doll that says, "Yes, Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with one potty-trained toddler, two kids who don't fight, and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of power tools. I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting, "Don't eat in the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother", because my voice seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by the dog.

And please don't forget the Playdoh Travel Pak, the hottest stocking stuffer this year for mothers of preschoolers. It comes in three fluorescent colors and is guaranteed to crumble on any carpet making the In-law's house seem just like mine.

If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a Styrofoam container. If you don't mind I could also use a few Christmas miracles to brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely.

It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized crime family; or if my toddler didn't look so cute sneaking downstairs to eat contraband ice cream in his pajamas at midnight.

Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back. Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the chimney and come in and dry off by the fire so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the table, but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours always.....Mom

PS: One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my children young enough to believe in Santa.

Star City Parade

On this brisk (by brisk I mean freezing ass cold) morning, the Vescapades family loaded up and headed downtown for the annual Star City Parade. We've never attended before, but today was special because Evelyn was dancing during the pre-parade festivities. The Starstruck Dance Academy dancers performed, with Evie's group dancing to "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth" by Alvin and the Chipmunks. It was very cute, and we all survived without losing any fingers or toes. We decided not to stick around for the parade. We instead headed to Panera Bread for soup.

I spent the rest of the afternoon wedding stuff shopping with my friend Amanda. Despite the fact that her wedding is in 13 days, she has nothing done including the invitations, her dress, and the decorations. Can we say procrastinator?

Push

I just finished reading the novel Push by Sapphire. It's a short book, one that I started last night and finished today. What it lacks in pages in more than makes up for. This is the story of Ms. Precious Jones. It is a story so horrifying and heroic that you can't turn away. I want you all to read this story. I must caution you, though, that it is absolutely brutal and relentless. Push reads like a work of poetic nonfiction, but it is a fictional account of a forgotten girl saved by her GED teacher and alternative school. After working in two GED programs, one of which was at an alternative high school, I know how so many young people are discarded. But NOTHING I could imagine compares to the struggles Ms. Precious Jones endures.

My Grandma's Coffee Cups

My grandmother passed away in September after a long battle with cancer. Cancer was a part of my grandmother's life for years, but she didn't let it slow her down. I can't imagine how terrifying it would be to hear the words, "You have cancer," but I saw how strong and brave my grandmother was. She helped and supported others with cancer while fighting her own battles. She cared for my aunt who is disabled while dealing with her own decreasing abilities.

My grandma was known for her multitude of Christmas decorations. Her farm's yard was filled with lights and a manger scene. The inside of the house had every imaginable snoring Santa or singing elf. I, however, will always remember a different set of decorations. In her small dining room she had some shelves on which she placed a collection of coffee cups. The one I remember most is a striped Garfield cup. I also purchased one for her on a trip to Chicago many years ago. While beginning the overwhelming task of cleaning out my grandma's house, I asked my mom if she could save those two coffee cups for me. Sure enough, she brought them to me this weekend.

I haven't really found a home for them yet, so in the meantime they're sitting on a shelf in the aforementioned multipurpose room. I spend a lot of time there, and the cups will be a nice reminder of a happy childhood at my grandma's farm.

Multipurpose Room

Every school seems to have one. Churches have them, too. I'd wager that most homes in America have at least one of these: a multipurpose room. In our house the den has become our ultimate multipurpose room. It is our computer room and library. It is my preschool and scrapbooking room. The closet holds cat food, photo albums, and Christmas presents. Dade does his homework here, and I do my online shopping. The cat eats, and I pay bills. Sure, it needs new carpet and paint really badly. It's a little small and crowded, but it's ours. We spruce it up with little crafts we make during preschool like paper chains and ice cream cones. It's a room with many jobs.