"All I Want for Christmas is My... Vacuum"

"... and my broom and dustpan."

Not me, Mira. I know it may seem a little odd, but she loved her little housekeeping presents - especially once we got C batteries for the vacuum, which now makes an awesome "vrooom" sound.

The girl likes her floors spotless, as I mentioned in my previous post. When I do the floors, she literally fights me for the broom or vacuum cleaner. So the gifts were perfect. However, I am a little concerned that she'll retain some vague shreds of memory from her first Christmas with us. (I picture her as an adult, a puzzled look on her face as she tries to make sense of a mental image from long ago. "I remember the rest of my family gathered around the table playing a game and laughing, while I was doing something else... pushing something... Did they make me vacuum on Christmas when I was a baby?!")

Incidentally, she did get other, non-housecleaning presents. Like a corn popper.

Nothing like a vacuum.

Our Christmas, in all seriousness, was lovely. We very much enjoyed spending part of the holiday with my mom and stepdad, who are back shivering through the cold northern winters after a decade in Arizona. And if we pulled up to their house and stepped out of the van to the hissing sound of a tire going flat, ah well... Merry Christmas, van! Enjoy your new set of tires! Love, Randy & Jules

What was the single most memorable Jackson holiday moment in 2009? Was it Mira's eyes shining as she gazed reverently at the Advent candle at church, contemplating the birth of Jesus, while visions of sugar plums, mangers, off-limit ornaments and vacuum cleaners simultaneously mingled in her head? Not quite. I have to say that an incident from our celebration with my dad eclipsed any other holiday moment in terms of being etched in our brains forever.

There we were, gathered around the Christmas tree in our living room, good cheer and merriment (or at least sarcasm) in the air, presents piled under the tree. My sister and her husband brought their two dogs to the celebration, one of whom is a darling, affectionate, wiggly new puppy. Apparently very threatening to the alpha male coonhound residing in this house. At first, Fred's dander stood straight up like a doggie mohawk. Once he relaxed a little around the nine-pound newcomer, he decided to make sure no one forgot whose house this is. In front of all of us, without shame or hesitation, he lifted his leg and "marked" the presents under the tree. I think ten jaws dropped in unison. (Mira was oblivious and Ethan laughed so hard I thought we were going to have to clean up two puddles). Honestly, I still can't believe he did it.

"Like trying to photograph wildlife..."

Mira starred in her first professional photo shoot last week. Her mischievous little smiling face may be used in an ad (stay tuned).

Photographing an on-the-move 18-month-old is challenging enough at home. Plop her in an unfamiliar studio, and hope that she stands somewhat still under the lights on the duct-tape mark on the floor ... well, as Charlie Brown was fond of saying, Good grief! Let me give you a visual representation of Mrs. Constant Motion "standing still."

The longest she remained in one place was about a minute, which is how long it took her little fingers to pry the duct tape "mark" off the floor. She spied a garbage can at the other end of the big room and zoomed over to throw the tape away. (You know, she's always been obsessed with "litter" on the floor, like lint, dog hair, paper, etc. No doubt she'll put me to shame with her housekeeping skills by the time she's in kindergarten. Anyway, obviously the duct tape violated her clean floor ideals).

The photographer, who was very easy-going (or else very adept at hiding impatience) commented that trying to shoot Mira was like trying to photograph wildlife: You take a 100 shots and hope one is in focus.

Here are a couple pictures taken at the shoot.

A rare sitting down moment

See ya!

This is pretty much how it went. (Get the picture?)

Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree (Farm)

One of our very favorite family traditions is making the annual trek out into the country to cut a Christmas tree. The excursion involves Christmas music in the van (usually Vince Guaraldi's "A Charlie Brown Christmas"), debate about what variety of tree we should choose (we tend to be a White Pine family, but not always), each child getting a turn with the tree saw, cries of "Timber!" when the tree falls, and the whole clan helping drag it back to the barn for tree shaking and wrapping. Then the kids and I pig-out on mini donuts while Randy pays for the tree.

Some day, when it's not her naptime, and she's not hungry, and wearing mittens isn't making her ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS, I am confident that Mira, too, will embrace this beloved annual outing.

Just not this year...

Furious

Could she be more miserable?

Mira's probably still writhing in my arms, but Gracie's blocking her in the picture

A tantrum like that really takes it out of you

The tree is up and decorated - and wired securely to the wall. Breakable ornaments are hung near the top, and so far we haven't had too many issues with certain short folks "re-decorating" the tree - although either she or Fred got into the water in the stand. For the life of me, I cannot imagine how we're going to put presents under the tree this year, though. She'll have those gifts unwrapped in record time, and Ethan may take advantage of the situation and unwrap some himself, knowing that she'll be the prime suspect. We'll have to see how this plays out...