Coach Strong

We have officially come to the "beginning of the end" of parenting and signed M up for soccer. All of his little buddies were playing and you can request to get your kid on the same team as their friends...so we took the sports plunge. He seems to love it (actually, I think he just loves running...and if the ball comes with it, so be it).
When we signed him up, they were looking for coaches and had a spot on the page to volunteer to be a coach. In my "condition", I figured I would sit this season out but Marc asked me why I didn't just coach his team. I figured that (with just three days before the parents' meeting) they would already have a coach but decided to call anyway. They took my info and said they would get back to me so I figured I was in the clear until the next day when I got my first phone call from a parent asking me for info on when our team was going to practice, where, etc. I said, "Oh, so am I the coach?" Apparently I am, they just forgot to tell me.
So, it has been lots of fun. I enjoy working with the kids and it reminds me of my old day job a little bit. We are still in the young league where there is no score-keeping and the coach is on the field, running around with the team throughout the game. I feel like a bit of a spectacle...big momma on field #2...but it keeps me busy...and I count the game as my workout for the day.

BRING ON THE PINK!!

It's a girl...enough said!!

WHAT'S UP WITH THAT??

Ok, so I am admitting this on the WWW...I am not so good on technology. I want to say that it is genetically inherited from Mom (I still love you though)...but maybe it also comes from a lack of care. I only care when I can't figure out how to do something I want to do.
For instance, I have spent the past two days trying to post pics on the blog...and it isn't letting me. So, I just get more annoyed and think of other things I can't figure out...like how all of the rest of you make and change your blog backgrounds to all of the super-cute background all the time. Yeah, I've been to the "free blog background websites" but I am either too technologically challenged, or not patient enough to read it more than once...maybe both.
Ok, I've said my piece.

Christmas down on the "Ranch"

After a great weekend with Marc's fam, we mosied on down to my parents' for Christmas. The boys were so excited to get Uncle Adam and new Uncle Jimmy all to themselves...something about those uncles...they can't get enough.

We enjoyed many nights of caroling...a Hrnicirik family tradition (although apparently we missed the "good" nights). I think even Marc enjoys it now. M was definitely the star this year (sorry Jimmy, maybe you will can practice and be it next year). He stood in front, often holding the goody, singing and dancing to songs...ones he was still learning the lyrics. But he sang out loud and proud...oh to be 4 again!

As usual, we got way too much from a very generous Santa and all had a grand time full of food, fun, love and controlled chaos.

The boys, but B in particular pretty much lived on "tWeats". Ahh...good ole' grandma's house...with goodies in little trays and bowls everywhere. If B wasn't eating dinner, grandma just sprinkled it with reeses pieces, of course. As you might imagine, we have spent the past month trying to undo the treat bonanza. B wakes up and asks for "tweats" right away. I figured that if he was going to be asking so much, we should work on the pronunciation. So, Marc and I worked with him. Say "R". Say "rabbit". Ok, say "tReat". So now it is, "Mommy, I want a Rrrabbit, tweat." Nice try.

Pre-Christmas Festivities

So...I realize that it is nearing the end of January...but rather than skip all that I have missed, I will just touch on some highlights.

The week before Christmas, Marc's parents, sis and her kids came to visit. Nothing can be better than guests! We had a blast. I think M and B wish their cousins could just move in. We did all kinds of fun things from touring the festival of lights to dancing with Grandpa in the living room. Thanks for coming and for all the great memories!!

The night before they left we had a mini family Christmas and exchanged all of the gifts with each other. This experience really re-confirmed my philosophy on children and gifts...the first one or two are AMAZING, EXCITING...and totally sufficient. Do kids really need a million gifts? I am likely just a mean person, but I say, "NO!"

Pan and Hook

So, of course, I realize I might be a little biased...but I am pretty sure my boys were the cutest Peter Pan and Captain Hook in all of Halloween-dom. About two weeks before Halloween, I realized I was going to have to pony up and figure out the costume situation. So, I asked the boys what they wanted to be. It was decided, pretty immediately I might add, that they both wanted to be Peter Pan (Beckett decided after he heard Mackay decide). So, all week, I tried to persuade one of them to be Captain Hook. Mackay got weepy and said, "No, I want to be Pan because I want to fly." Can't argue with that...fine...but Beckett wasn't going to budge either. 2 Pans it is.

Then, with Halloween one week out, on our way to the fabric store (because there are NO Pan or Hook costumes in the stores around here), Beckett decides he wants to be Captain Hook. Sweet... The costumes didn't turn out super-fabulous. But, for a first time costume maker and novice sewer...I think they turned out pretty cute. Regardless of the quality, the boys were so happy. Unfortunately we forgot to have Hook wear his hook for any of the pictures or for trick-or-treating. In fact, we got home that night and I discovered the hook under the kitchen table...bummer...but no biggie.

Toward the end of our evening, Mackay was running ahead to the next door and I called back to my sucker-eating 2 yr old, "Come on my little pirate." To which he responded, "No mom, Captain Hook."

Wedding Receptions and the Emergency Room

These are not things you would usually put into the same 48 hours...but that is how we roll around here. So, this weekend we drove down to Houston for Julie and Jimmy's wedding reception. We arrived on Friday and took the opportunity to have a weenie roast (can't ever have too many of those). So, we are sitting there having a gay ole' time, getting eaten by mosquitos, eating our weight in hot dogs and smores when I got two bites on the back of my leg. Mind you, my mom had just doused my legs in bug spray, and the sting was like that of a mosquito on crack...I didn't think much of it, cursed the darn bugs under my breath, and reached for the bug spray again. Then I felt a third bite...and shook my leg, sprayed it again and sat down to eat another smores (can't stop at just one).
Within about a minute I started feeling a little funny...nauceous, light headed, etc. So, I decided to move to a log a little further from the huge fire. I got there and my heart started racing and I slid onto the ground. My sis reached over and said that I felt really clamy. So, I looked at Marc, who was totally unconcerned at my distress...roasting a sausage for my mom, and said that something was wrong and that I needed to go inside.
So, he started helping me and we made it a few steps when I told him that I thought I might pass out (I am sure he just thought I was being dramatic) and proceeded to do so in the very next step. So, I woke up shortly thereafter being carried, scout style by Marc and Jimmy (bless the new brother -in-law...and WELCOME to the family) with my shirt up around my boobs and wondering why they were running and why everything was shaking. Marc said, "just stay concious", which, we decided after talking about it, is hilarious- as if you can help it - but it is the thing they always say on the movies...so it must work, right!?
So we get into the house and they lay me on the couch (meanwhile I feel like I am on some weird movie where I am blinking and looking around as if I am not actually the one having the drama). So they had me flat, and I feel like I am going to pass out and hurl all at the same time, so I asked them to elevate my head. My hands and feet were so itchy and I started to loose the feeling/ability to move my arms and legs. My mom got her nurse friend on the phone and I was trying to tell them all of my symptoms in case I passed out again. Then my throat and tongue started to swell...this is when it was decided that we mosey on down to the ER. SO, I popped two benedryl and we took off. (Since my parents live out in the sticks, where GPS systems stop about a half mile from their house, we opted out of the ambulance...which I am really thankful for in retrospect.)
The drive to the hospital seemed eternal. My eyes were watering like crazy but I couldn't make my hands connect with my face in a gentle manner...so I felt like and invalid getting my eyes wiped every minute or two. We got right into triage and the benedryl had started working by that time...so in true ER fashion we got to hang out in the waiting room for an hour. We were then admitted and asked really smart questions like, "Did you catch the thing that bit you?" After a few rounds of steroids and some anti-nausea drugs...I was monitored for a few hours and that was that. So, recovery has been rough..., it was no big deal but I feel like I got hit by a small bus...it makes me feel old. I don't know what is up but I can't seem to get my energy back. Probably doesn't help that we did wedding reception stuff the whole next day and have been busy teaching preschool and having guests this week already.
So, on Saturday...we mainly got ready for the reception. It was beautiful. My parents really outdid themselves on this one. Their backyard was perfect, the decorations were so cute and fall-y, the food was divine and the music and DJ were great and totally uncorny.
Julie did have a dress issue...um...the dry cleaners RUINED her dress. I am talking shrunken (t-length anyone?) so that she couldn't zip it and changed the look and texture of the fabric. (So, any of you law saavy people out there...we need suggestions.) She was a great sport and we just ended up sewing her into it.
SO, another fun and eventful weekend has passed away, TEXAS STYLE. And I will just leave you with the best advice I received on the hospital discharge form, "Avoid being bitten or stung again."