In a fit of what can only be described as pure madness, mama dragged her babes to Cherry Creek Mall in Denver to see Santa, ONE MORE TIME. And the sobering voice of reason, once we were in the 1 1/2 hour-long line was (drum roll, please): the babes! Let's just get Cinnabon and check out the Snow Globe display, and go the heck home. So we did. Every year, the mall puts on a stellar snow-globe walk-through tour, and this year was Polar Express, a hit all-around. Shane's favorite part: the falling fake snow, which he still insists on eating.
Have a holly, jolly Christmas, Gracie Lou...on Christmas Eve, we gather at Aunt Diane's to open all our stocking stuffers from Gramma K, which are always plentiful and joyful, from the Pez dispensers and packs of character underwear to the lip balm and action figures (and a subscription to Oprah the magazine for mom and an REI gift card for dad). Our gluttonous dinner is followed by a lot of laughter and confusion and flashes, and our littlest Who crumbles under the pressure.
Shane, though, is all good. Pretty sure dad is bending over picking up some valuable thing that Shane's managed to knock off the end table (with his cranium) directly behind him.
All the Kulwicki cousins with the matriarch of the family. Back row, from left: Collin Prusse (19, going on a mission go Puebla, Mexico); Roman Kulwicki, 13; Grandma K; Richard Kulwicki, 13. Front-ish row, from left: Camille Prusse, 14. Front row: Ty, Shane, Eve, Grace, and Colette Prusse, 12. Don't wanna mess with that posse...
Back at the Crawford homestead, we each opened a Christmas Eve gift. The big reveal: Ty's Nerf gun! I almost hate to even say it, the looks of shock and disgust some moms throw at the mere mention, but we've got a strict rule in our home: boys are allowed to be boys, as long as no one's in actual danger. Which they often are. But, still, the rule stands! And it's Nerf, for cryin' out loud...
All of Evie's begging paid off: an Ipod shuffle! Which she promptly loaded with U2, Disney, Hannah Montana, High School Musical...you get the picture. Our other strict rule: no one listens to music mom and dad can't approve. Which clearly means no light rock, no smooth jazz, no hip hop, no rap, no anything not U2-Zeppelin-Floyd-Beatles related. Still sensoring the Stones for 'em...
All of our Christmas baking done and parceled out to neighbors, all we had left for the Big Man was store-bought, but we figured he'd manage. Love that sign Eve left for him before we all scurried out to scatter Reindeer dust on the front lawn: "Dear Santa: Is it true that you have a child? Wright yes or no in this box."
In a fit of what can only be described as pure madness, mama dragged her babes to Cherry Creek Mall in Denver to see Santa, ONE MORE TIME. And the sobering voice of reason, once we were in the 1 1/2 hour-long line was (drum roll, please): the babes! Let's just get Cinnabon and check out the Snow Globe display, and go the heck home. So we did. Every year, the mall puts on a stellar snow-globe walk-through tour, and this year was Polar Express, a hit all-around. Shane's favorite part: the falling fake snow, which he still insists on eating.
Have a holly, jolly Christmas, Gracie Lou...on Christmas Eve, we gather at Aunt Diane's to open all our stocking stuffers from Gramma K, which are always plentiful and joyful, from the Pez dispensers and packs of character underwear to the lip balm and action figures (and a subscription to Oprah the magazine for mom and an REI gift card for dad). Our gluttonous dinner is followed by a lot of laughter and confusion and flashes, and our littlest Who crumbles under the pressure.
Shane, though, is all good. Pretty sure dad is bending over picking up some valuable thing that Shane's managed to knock off the end table (with his cranium) directly behind him.
All the Kulwicki cousins with the matriarch of the family. Back row, from left: Collin Prusse (19, going on a mission go Puebla, Mexico); Roman Kulwicki, 13; Grandma K; Richard Kulwicki, 13. Front-ish row, from left: Camille Prusse, 14. Front row: Ty, Shane, Eve, Grace, and Colette Prusse, 12. Don't wanna mess with that posse...
Back at the Crawford homestead, we each opened a Christmas Eve gift. The big reveal: Ty's Nerf gun! I almost hate to even say it, the looks of shock and disgust some moms throw at the mere mention, but we've got a strict rule in our home: boys are allowed to be boys, as long as no one's in actual danger. Which they often are. But, still, the rule stands! And it's Nerf, for cryin' out loud...
All of Evie's begging paid off: an Ipod shuffle! Which she promptly loaded with U2, Disney, Hannah Montana, High School Musical...you get the picture. Our other strict rule: no one listens to music mom and dad can't approve. Which clearly means no light rock, no smooth jazz, no hip hop, no rap, no anything not U2-Zeppelin-Floyd-Beatles related. Still sensoring the Stones for 'em...
All of our Christmas baking done and parceled out to neighbors, all we had left for the Big Man was store-bought, but we figured he'd manage. Love that sign Eve left for him before we all scurried out to scatter Reindeer dust on the front lawn: "Dear Santa: Is it true that you have a child? Wright yes or no in this box." 
3 comments:
garren got a little nerf gun too. I am trying to get him to call it a 'blaster', it sounds a little nicer.
the only bummer is we only got one gun, and grady borrows it often, I guess we know what he is getting for his birthday....
it's crazy that i have to insist that grady gives garren's toy back to him.
Love the gifts, great idea santa, having a foosball table in the basement.
Adam got a Nerf gun for his birthday. Shopping in Toys R Us one day I came face to face with my principles and a toy I knew he would love, and my principles died. I suspect it happens to lot of parents in that shop.
And it was his favourite present!
I'm chuckling at your kids' approved music list. Our kids, too, have rather grown-up taste since they're only ever exposed to Mom's favorites. :)
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