It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Patrick and I have made a deal. Since he worked at a gas station to get himself through school and listened to non-stop Christmas music from November through January, he has a no-tolerance policy regarding Christmas music before Thanksgiving. He actually wanted to extend the ban all the way until December, but I put my foot down; growing up, the day after Thanksgiving was the day we put up all the Christmas decorations. You cannot do that without listening to Nat King Cole, the "A Charlie Brown Christmas" soundtrack, and selections from the Nutcracker. So our deal was NO Christmas music until December, EXCEPT for the day after Thanksgiving. Sounds good to me!

So what did we accomplish? First of all, we set up our little two foot Christmas tree (now 10 inches shorter than Cambrie). It cost us four dollars total. Best investment ever! Every year we add one thing to our Christmas decoration collection, and after a few years of that, we've got a cute little tree!

Here's a close-up, including one of the pretty ornaments Patrick got me as a stocking stuffer last year.

The new Christmas decoration we got this year had to take into account our financial situation (aka unemployed), so we found something for $2.50:

A garland! Right now it's plain, without fancy bows or blinking lights, but I was excited to use it, so now it's a modest but cheery addition to "our" stairwell. (We live in the basement.) We also managed to hang our wreath. Patrick devised a hook for it out of a wire hanger and an over-the-door towel hook. Again, not the highest class, but I like it. I know it sounds strange, but it's fun being in this new-family-dirt-poor part of life. What new cheap or free solution will we come up with next?

Cambrie helped a lot, mostly by dancing to the Christmas music (who knew the Nutcracker was as dance-worthy to a 16 month old as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer?) and reminding us to keep everything out of her ever-extending reach.

She also helped me write a message out of little beaded garlands:

Merry beginning-of-the-Christmas-Season!

On Camping and Loving It

Patrick has left Cambrie and me for a grand adventure for a few days. He's been packing and planning and preparing, mixing trail mix, sharpening knives, and now he's off, with all he needs for survival strapped to his back. That's right. He's gone camping.

Really this isn't a huge camping trip at all. The Boy Scouts ages 14 and older are heading up to some campground... Pine Mountain, I think?... for a day and a half camping and hiking trip. Patrick is one of the assistant leaders for the 14 and 15 year olds. But from the day he found out about it (two days ago), Patrick has been like a little kid--he couldn't wait to head out this morning.

Patrick's life for the past two months has been job searching, and there have been few, if any, tangible results. This opportunity to retreat to the great outdoors without stressing over his employment status was a welcome one, but that's not the best part. I love watching him get so excited about something he loves. When we first started dating, I remember a conversation we had about what we were passionate about. Here's my problem--I am so ridiculously passionate about so many things (piano, jazz music, great literature, beautifully made things, new places and cultures, poetry done well, cooking or baking something delicious, etc.), that sometimes I feel like I'm positively oozing latent excitement, curiosity, and zeal for the things around me. I think it can sometimes be a little overwhelming. Enter Patrick, who's answer to the "What things are you passionate about?" was more like, "Ummm, well... I mean, I like Brazil [where he served his LDS mission], and I like the outdoors. I guess those would count."

While this might make us sound super-incompatible, believe it or not, we're not. (Thank goodness.) I've decided that the difference lies here: I am a very wordy person. Thoughts, feelings, passions, everything could launch me into a deep discussion about the intricacies and convolutions of everything we're discussing. Words are very much a part of who I am. Not so, with Patrick. He really likes discussing things, but he doesn't feel the need to justify every decision (like why he's decided to wear one shirt over another) via a five paragraph essay. Words aren't the medium he lives and moves in. Things are simpler and more clear-cut for him. No unnecessary complications. Is this a guy thing?

Whatever it is, it means he may not spew on for hours about how much he likes this thing or that, but when I see him rolling up his half-shelter, and he starts explaining to me how he hopes he can find trees to hold it up, but he's bringing poles in case he needs them, or he starts thinking out loud what he's going to bring for dinner, or he mentions how he wants to find time to camp by himself for a week on his Granddaddy's extensive land, I can tell how much he loves it. I guess being passionate about something doesn't require an exposition on why, exactly, you find it worth loving. Maybe you just need to continue to actively find joy in it. That makes sense to me.

Peanut Butter Heaven

I've always loved to cook and bake, so with my newly discovered free time, I'm taking every opportunity to explore new recipes and try new things. My most recent culinary escapade stole four hours of my life from me. It was a Peanut Butter pie, and let me tell you--I hate making pie crusts. I've sworn to Patrick that, in the future, when I don't feel guilty spending money on something I can make myself, I will buy a pre-made pie crust every time.

I'm not so financially lucky this time. By the time I finished my Peanut Butter Pie, I was certain nothing could be worth that much effort. (It was made with a custard-like cream, so even aside from the crusts it was a long process. I took no shortcuts.) I put it in the fridge to chill, glad to have tried something new, but glad the whole process was over.

I had no idea what I had coming.

See the layers? Inspiration from above. Peanut butter crumble underneath and on top, light, sweet, creamy filling in between.

I would pay serious money to eat a slice of this pie in a nice restaurant. It worries me that there are two whole pies of it sitting in the fridge; left unchecked, I will eat them both. I have only one word: Mmmmmmm. Actually, it's more like: Mmmmmmmmm!!!! (Four, yes, four exclamation marks.) Now, if anyone reading this actually lived in my state, I would share. See how convenient that is?

Convenient, and a little depressing to be so far from everyone. I think I need some pie to cheer me up...

So Much Time...

Since a lot of people have been asking how I like being a stay at home mom rather than working full-time, I decided that now would be a good time to make a little list of the opportunities we’ve all had since making our big leap to the deep South.

Things I’ve been able to do that I wouldn’t have had time to do in Virginia:

• Learn to French braid my own hair.
• Join a choir for my church that’s doing a special oratorio—and become back-up accompanist.
• Read. Like a TON.
• Watch TV. Biggest time waster of my life, and it’s back to haunt me. Curse you, cable!
• Play with Cambrie. I wish I found climbing up and down from rocking chairs as entertaining as she does, but it’s pretty fun watching/helping her.
• Cook and bake like crazy.
• Make a Halloween costume for Cambrie.
• Go to cool things like Time Out For Women.
• Really get to know Patrick’s family.
• Remember how beautiful the trees and leaves are with the sunshine filtering through them.

Things Patrick’s been able to do that he wouldn’t have had time to do in Virginia:

• Search for a job full-time.
• Go on a scout camp-out with his little brother.
• Get his hands dirty by helping out around his grandparents’ house (creating a compost pile, helping refinish a table and a small rocking chair, leaf-blowing, putting a brick border around the flower garden, etc.)
• Take me to the Georgia National Fair (he HAD to show me that it was way more awesome than any other fair I’d been to. Alright, Patrick, you win. It was pretty fun.)
• Finally make his favorite Brazilian dinner—Chicken Stroganoff with Passion Fruit Mousse as dessert.
• Be motivated by people like Colin Powell, Zig Zigler, and Lou Holtz.

Things Cambrie’s been able to do that she wouldn’t have been able to do in Virginia:

• Walk around in the woods almost every day.
• Spend lots of time with cousins.
• Discover her hero, Patrick’s seven year old cousin, Keith. She follows that kid everywhere!
• Grow enough hair to make a barely visible ponytail on the top of her head. Okay, maybe it’s not Georgia that’s making her do that, but I guess we’ll never know for sure, will we?

Do you see the tiny ponytail? It's there!!

My Little Monkey

Well, here it is: my requisite Halloween post. Due to our tight budget and my new slew of free time, I got to make Cambrie's costume, mostly by adding to a little bodysuit she already had. We debated for a long time what she should be, but in the end, we decided on a monkey. Why? Because every time we saw a little chimpanzee or monkey in the zoo or on TV, we thought of Cambrie. I'm serious! And it wasn't just an "Awwww! Cute! We call her a monkey, and there is a monkey!" The way the monkeys moved, looked at things, stood, etc. reminded us of her. So monkey she became. I spent about $3 on fabric, then made a tail (with a coat hanger inside), a little pocket to hold a banana, and ears.



Sorry for the closed eyes. She was warm and cozy and ready to go stare at all the crazy older kids at the "Trunk or Treat" at the church building. We got chili and cornbread, but we couldn't even stay for the actual "Trunk or Treat"-ing, because by then it was already about an hour past Cambrie's bedtime. And who needs candy, right? Right?

Okay, so maybe Patrick and I broke open one of the bags of mini Reese's Peanut Butter cups that we didn't pass out and celebrated on our own with a little Office that night. But Cambrie never has to know. *conspiratorial wink* Right? Right?

Pre-Pre-School Physics

One of the most exciting things about having a little baby is that I get to observe this little creature figure out life completely from scratch. I remember several months ago when Cambrie was just learning how to stand while holding onto something else. It was such a thrill of delight when I first saw her Balance herself by shifting her weight one direction when she was tipping in the other. How amazing! How did she figure that out? I didn't teach her or model it for her. I wasn't encouraging her, anxious to check it off her "latest accomplishments" list. I didn't sing a little song about shifting weight on your feet our counterbalancing or anything like I sing the ABCs. My baby was just a genius. :-)

Today I had that moment again. Cambrie is much more mobile now, and is adept at clambering all over things. She only needs to watch someone do something like open a drawer, take a damp sock from the washer and put it in the dryer, or even open a box of Cheerios and take a handful of little O's out before she's trying the same thing, and usually succeeding. But what she did this morning was just as inconspicuous and overrated as her balancing act months ago.

There is a cupboard with two doors underneath our TV downstairs. She's tried to open them several times, but they stick a little and they're hard to open for her. Patrick and I don't use them much, so she hasn't had much reason to investigate further. However, this morning, she tried to open them again. She pulled on the left door handle with her left hand. The door didn't budge. She pulled again. Still nothing. Finally, she brings up her right hand, braces it against the right cupboard door, and with this additional leverage, she pulls again. Voilà! It opens, and now I have to go save several old video tapes from being dumped out of their paper cases.

Yet again, where did she learn to gain that extra leverage? I wish I could pick up on fundamental physics that quickly! Still, it does seem a little pathetic; I feel like I should get a "My kid is a genius" bumper sticker because my daughter opened a cupboard door. *shrug* I guess it's okay to be proud as long as I don't get carried away, right?

[note to self: do not ridicule future Carlson babies if they don't learn the leverage trick until 15.5 months.]

Okay, I'm off to replace the contents of my purse that Cambrie has been rearranging all over the basement floor. I'll also post an unrelated picture just for fun. Au revoir!