1.1.11

It will be 100 years before that sequence of numbers will be used as a date again. I think it looks cool in print, but unfortunately, I had no need to write it down anywhere -- not a check, not any sort of form, nothing, which is probably the only logical explanation for

why I'm writing about it now.

This is Google's logo for the new year...those guys are kinda creative over there:

So as to not let the day go unnoticed, I'm going to give a run down of a day in the life of the Koongs, not just any day, 1.1.11:

Daddy:
Up around 7ish I'd say. Hung out with the kids in bed, made breakfast for them consisting of bacon and toast. Gym with M, WalMart to return some tire chains he bought for his trip to Mt. Rainier yesterday, Home. Tacoma to return some shoes. Dinner at Applebees with the family. Watched part of Toy Story 2 with the kids. bed around 8:45.

Mommy:
Slept in until 8:45. Unloaded dishwasher, drove to Lakewood Towne Center with J. Had lunch at Old Country Buffet. Came home and worked on my previous blog entry. Dinner at Applebees with the family, Target. Home; finished blog entry and started this one....the time is 9:20 pm.

J:
Chilled in bed with Daddy and Mia. Had breakfast, played Leapster Explorer. Went to Lakewood Towne Center with Mommy. Bought a Woody Matchbox car with his tooth fairy money, had lunch at Old Country Buffet. Came home, played with Mia upstairs in the play kitchen, went to dinner with the family at Applebees, had a corn dog and an Oreo sundae. Came home and watched Toy Story 2 with Daddy and M. Went to bed at around 8:45 in Daddy's room.

M:
Woke up about 6:30 went and hung out w/ Mommy in Js room because J was sleeping in her bed w/ Daddy -- it's Friday. After Mommy fell back asleep, got up and went to hang out in the fun room with the guys. Had breakfast, went to the gym and WalMart with Daddy. Came home, napped, watched Sesame Street, played in the play kitchen w/ J. Went to Applebees for dinner w/ the family and had a cheeseburger and fries. Came home, watched Toy Story 2 with Daddy and J, went to bed around 8:00.

And there you have it.
Borrrrrrrring,
but if anybody should ask what you did on 1.1.11,
you don't have to look any further than here.

Full

A girl full of cheer.

A street full of fanfare.
That only I seemed to be interested in, but that's besides the point.

Boxes full of toys.

A camera full of not-so-Christmas-card-worthy pictures.

And another.

And one more.

A tree full of lights.
A fridge full of food.

A cutie full of imagination.

A Gospel full of life.

A Christmas Eve full of cozy gifts,

preparations,

and some selfishness,

"Does Santa really need another cookie?"

Stockings full of loot.

The bottom of a Pillow Pet full of money from

the Tooth Fairy --on Chistmas Day no less!

And from Santa, not one to be left out,

a box full of Legos;

a cart full of groceries; and

a morning full of excitement.

A holiday full of grandparents.

A day full of laughs.

Until AK infested our computer with a virus, that is.

A dining table full of family.

A mother full of love.

A mountain full of snow.

And a little guy full of enthusiasm to sled it.

A girl full of sleepy, but watching New Year's Rocking Eve anyway.

A glass full of goodness.

And a wishful metaphor for our being.

A little boy full of motivation to stay up until midnight and ring in

the new year for the first time in his life,

but who at the end of the day, didn't quite make it to the end of this day.

(He was 40 minutes short of his goal, as noted on the clock in the background.)

And a family who joins millions around the world with

a heart full of hope that the 365 days that lie ahead are wonderful ones.

Bring on 2011!

Cookie Sunday

I like cookies. As a matter of fact, I really like cookies. Making them, not so much. I have made cookies before. Mostly the kind that are broken off of a prepackaged block and thrown in the oven.

On Sunday, I wanted to make cookies. And I had the kids join in the fun.

We kneaded the dough,

and after a quick run to Bed, Bath & Beyond to get a rolling pin which I didn't know was missing, we cut them out.

Next we baked, we waited, we frosted, and then the best part of all: We ate them. And when they were gone, we ate the leftover sprinkles, AKA: sugar, right out of the bowl.

That kit from Trader Joe's sure came in handy.

It had all the fixings necessary for a LAME-O like me to make semi-homemade cookies, right down to the cookie cutters....all for 3.99.

Speaking of lame, I went to a cookie exchange that same evening. I got all dressed up to attend this lovely holiday affair. There was food and drinks, games, friends, and fun. The only thing missing: cookies. At least from me.

I didn't bake any. I didn't take any. I didn't want any.

Thank you Ladies, but me and my elves have all the cookies we need at home.

Meet Alan

Alan is a seven-year-old boy that wears a size 6x, likes Tonka trucks, and Musical toys. I came across Alan at the mall one evening on a solo trip there. Out of all the kids, he's the one that caught my eye.

In my mind, Alan is Asian and chubby; probably pretty smart. Like you, I don't know Alan. If one day our paths cross, we'll walk by one another not knowing that our lives had intersected once before on the road leading to the Salvation Army's Giving Christmas Tree.

That this little card is my only tangible connection to Alan doesn't diminish the pleasure it gives me to have picked him.

Growing up, my mom would take a couple of names from the Christmas tree at church so we could help out a family in need. It's something that I remember fondly and look forward to each year.

In the past, the mom's group I belong to adopts a family. Instead we went with a "Keeping Kids Warm this Winter" theme and collected blankets, sleepers, hats, booties for kids of all ages. As usual, we had a little shindig yesterday morning to gather everything together. As much as I liked doing it, it didn't give anything for J to do like in years past where at least one of the families had a kid his age to whom he could get something. Giving away pajamas or sweaters to random kids doesn't affect him in any way, shape. or form. He cares nothing about pajamas or sweaters. He does, however, care about toys.

So I told him about Alan. I would be fibbing just a little if I said he was completely thrilled about the prospect. But not all hope was lost. During the purging of his mostly Happy-Meal-toy bin, he decided that Alan would be a good recipient for the ones he didn't want {sigh}. Once at Target he helped search for the items we did want for him -- Alan that is -- though I think it was more to be done with it and head over to the Toy Story aisle where he could salivate over stuff he wanted.

He managed to find something for M as well and then lent his assistance in choosing a bag for Alan's gift while he engaged me in an in-depth conversation about earthquakes. Before leaving we stopped at the snow globe area where he played for a bit.

Next up was the Dollar Store where he finally got something for himself: A new writing pad.

And so it turned out to be a nice evening after all.

Alan got his toys. J got his writing pad and a milk shake and fries at Mickey D's for being a good sport. And I got to make a deposit into the memory bank of a little boy that hopefully one day, when he's a man and has his own kids, will frequent often to make withdrawals from.

Uh-Oh HO-HO

In my ongoing effort to tattoo the real meaning of Christmas into the brains of my children, I decided we would celebrate the feast of St. Nicholas.

This is totally new to me. As a matter of fact, I only learned about it the day before at Faith but it seemed like it was just the outlet I was looking for to tie it all in: Santa, Jesus, gifts.

This is the website that tells us all we ever wanted to know about the jolly guy. I'll admit that I didn't go there -- I had no time -- but the tidbits I learned at Faith told me just

enough to throw something together.

Apparently, he was a guy who gave gifts to the underprivileged people of his town, especially to the young women who had no dowry. He would come by their house and throw in three chunks of gold that always seemed to land by the fire; thus the legend of him coming down the chimney. In some countries they put their shoes out in hopes that he leaves a little something inside them, usually Mandarin oranges (three balls of gold), and gold coins.

And the story goes from there, the shoe thing became the stocking by the chimney thing.

Because we put our shoes out on January 5 for the Epiphany, I decided to go the stocking route. And so,

"The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there."

J hadn't written his letter to Santa yet, so I thought it would be a good idea to do so and leave it out for him; however, he stayed up doing God knows what and had no desire to do it before heading off to bed.

In the morning we had no time to see what St. Nick had brought. A good thing since there was not a thing, zip, nada, in those stockings yet :)

But by the time J came home from school, we were set. I told him to take a look to see if there was something in there. He wouldn't because "You can't look in your stockings until Christmas." I practically had to twist his arm to walk over there.

Inside they found a note from St. Nick himself in which he praises their "niceness" and points out their "naughtiness" and/or areas that need improvement. He asks them to work on those until his return on Christmas Eve.

He left a little something for each one of them....oranges, of course. An ornament for M, and little Santa chocolates for Jacob that melted because I decided to turn on the fireplace. Hey, it was cold. How was I supposed to know what was in those socks?

He also left J some window decals that for some twisted reason he remembers us buying at Target a couple of weeks ago. Hmm.

So let me get this straight: St. Nick pays a visit on December 6 in the wee hours of the morning to check things out. He picks up the Wish Lists; leaves some small tokens of his appreciation -- for what, I don't know. Poor guy didn't even get cookies this trip; he goes back to wherever he came from, Heaven, I guess; and then decides if the kid is worthy of a present?

Oh, I have so many unanswered questions.....Did he get here on a sleigh? With or without reindeer? Or is he, like J asked, "Magic because he's a saint"?

Is this really my story? Yup, and I'm sticking to it even if my kid thinks Santa is a thief who is trying to steal Mommy's thunder and take credit for his window decals.

I better get on that website and find some answers to my questions before they become J's. But not before making a"Don't read unless you've entered adulthood," label for this very entry.