a very merry mclean christmas

Last Christmas we split the day between our house and Paul's sister. This year my Aunt Lou and Uncle Kent were crazy enough to invite us to their lake house for our first Christmas all together. I'm pretty sure they didn't know exactly what they were getting into. Our particular set of McLeans have a lot of traditions and we're led by a mom whose love language is Christmas. She does it up right and big. {Knowing this and how the girls would be spoiled by their other set of grandparents and all their aunts and uncles, P-dubs and I didn't get the girls anything for Christmas. Which, together, makes us basically Scrooge and the Grinch. Or just smart. Whichever.} 

Our week-long celebration started when Karen, Bucky, and Dustin got to our house and we embarked on our yearly adventure to Zootastic to see miles of lights and get our picture taken with Santa and a tiger. Really. I should try to find all three years' pictures because they're hilarious. I don't know why Santa and tigers go so well together. They just do. 

Then our little caravan headed south in a torrential downpour to Lou's cozy house that was bedecked and bedazzled like no one's business.  The following picture is the truth. These two are the family cruise directors. We'd all go crazy without them. Or at least have no clue what's going on. 

My dad was able to fly down for a day, have a little Christmas with us, and meet Baby Drew. Because of the timing of his visit and Bucky and Karen heading to her family's house for Christmas, we had a couple little Christmases that made the gift-giving and general merry-making last for days. That's the best way to do it. 

On Christmas Eve, we went to a beautiful church near the lake house for their candle light service. The girls made it through approximately 3 of the 11 hymns before we had to take them out. And then we found some pool noodles in the church library (?). They would have been fine in the service had the hymns not been interrupted by things like Bible readings and prayers. After each hymn, Lo's tiny voice would say, 'Again!' Only, in a church like that, her tiny voice echoed like she was screaming at the top of her lungs. No good. We brought them back in for the candle lighting and Silent Night. Such a sweet moment to see through their eyes. 

Side note: as you can probably tell, I'm a purist when it comes to the photos I put on this blog. Which is why there is a masterful mix of iPhone pictures, pictures straight from Instagram, pictures of a picture, pictures of the back of a camera that actually took a picture, and completely un-edited and not-so-great pictures taken on a nice Nikon. Purist. {Also, some of these pictures are from 'Christmas morning' with Bucky and Karen and some are from the actual Christmas morning. This just adds to the continuity and uniformity of this post, yes?}

The boys made their traditional Christmas tree cinnamon rolls and we all stayed in pajamas for a really long time. Which was probably weird for some people in attendance but was, sadly,  pretty normal for me. 

 The girls understood the concept of presents this year and they were excited about them but mostly they just liked to unwrap anything for anybody. Mom would say, 'Bring this to Daddy.' and it would be half unwrapped by the time it made its way to him.  I didn't unwrap a single present and I'm not sure anyone else did. These two were all over it. 

 I'm telling you what, these girls were in heaven with all their uncles being in one place. Sheer joy. 

 People thought we were nuts to travel with a two week old. But that's when babies are really portable and they sleep a lot. Plus, we had so many people to help with all three that it really almost was like a vacation. {Except on vacation you probably sleep through the night, yeah?}

 The girls got a train set from their Uncle Dustin and a  three seater wagon from Grammy. Praise the Lord, we love that thing. It has like 6 cup holders. 

Wills made a few fires and Karen took some newborn pictures of Drew and we decorated cookies and sang Happy Birthday to Jesus and did so, so many puzzles and just enjoyed each other--almost miraculously, all in the same place for one magical day of the year.

{And then when we got home, I took some pictures of the girls in their Christmas pajamas because I didn't actually take any when they were actually in them on Christmas morning. Whoops.} 

 And, oh my, this one...by far the best Christmas present ever. 

So thankful for a wonderful week, a family that loves a lot, and a Savior who was born to die for all these precious souls. Merry, merry Christmas! 

2/52

'A portrait of our girls, once a week, every week, in 2014.'

CG and Lola: Some weeks I get more pictures of one sister than the other. Other weeks, I only get pictures of them together. 

Drew: Four weeks old. Her sisters were swaddled until they were almost 4 months. This girl will have none of that. Her hands must be up by her face...or preferably on her face for her to sleep well. 

happy new year

happy new year! 

This picture is actually a ghost of New Years past, when the girls were new to us and we lived in our tiny townhouse. If there had been a picture taken of our toasting glasses this year, it would have been a blur of Paul and my sister spinning around the kitchen, pulling dusty glasses out of the cabinet, and trying to open a bottle of sparkling apple cider as the countdown read 40 seconds on the TV.  We had a few friends over and we had sat around for hours watching football and discussing how we were getting so old because we might not even make it to midnight. {Last year P-dubs and I definitely did NOT. I was asleep way before midnight.} And then, all of the sudden it was 40 seconds to the new year and, wouldn't you know, we weren't ready for it. Due to some slight difficulty opening the sparkling cider bottle (that foil!!! Geez...) we actually paused the ball drop until we were ready. Yes, we paused time. It was great. 

All that to say...one of my goals this year is to update this blog a little more frequently. {Seeing as it's almost a third of the way through January, it's safe to say I already fell off the blogging bandwagon on that one.} Last year, around this time, I think I actually said that maybe 2013 would be the year I'd settle down and catch up and breathe and maybe finally hang some pictures on the wall. Instead,I got pregnant and morning sick and took a bunch of trips and entertained two hilarious little girls. And had one of the best years of my life. Plus, bonus, P-dubs did hang a bunch of pictures. 

I don't think 2014 will be the year for me to settle down or catch up or breathe (or sleep much, for that matter). But I'm pretty sure it will be full of love and giggles, a few tantrums and lots of baby firsts. And I can't wait.  I'm so glad that I documented a lot of the girls' first two years and now with this newbie here, I feel like it's even more important for my foggy, tired, mama mind to remember. So, to anyone who has hung in there with us and cares to read about our simple, crazy life (looking at you, mom) I'll have some painfully, painfully late updates posted sometime soon. But maybe not that soon. Happy New Year! 

1/52

'A portrait of my girls, once a week, every week in 2014.'

Lo: I feel like this dress may be the theme of our year. Fitting that I took this picture on January 1st. When I bought these dresses for $3 on the girls' first Halloween (with hopes that it would fit them for their second), I never imagined how much she would love it. I didn't have a philosophy about raising girls with/without princess influences. (I do now. I'll have to share sometime.) I didn't know I would worry about such a philosophy.  Until we saw Frozen in December, they didn't even know what a 'princess dress' was. Now she dons hers practically every day. 

Charleigh Grace: My spit-fire who can be so loving and so rough at the same time. Howie never knows if he should run or cringe and just accept his fate. 

Drew: Three weeks old but seeming much older and, somehow, wiser than that. 

happy birthday p-dubs

On Paul's first birthday as a dad, I wrote about a few of the reasons we loved him. And those are still true today. He is just as crazy about these girls and still gives me a lot of grace in the yoga pants department.  But now that he's been a dad for two full years and is about to be the dad of three little girls, I wanted to publicly honor the man that makes our little world spin round. I really don't praise him enough or give him credit for how much he sacrifices for our little family. While I've finally got my act together (for the most part...I reference the phrase 'act together' in a very loose way and it's just in time to lose all semblance of order and routine again anyway), there are still days where I haven't had a chance to shower and the girls were cranky while I was cooking and doesn't he realize I've sacrificed my body and sometimes my sanity for these children. Totally dramatic and childish and, thankfully, few and far between. But he takes it in stride, loves on our girls, chases them around the living room, and gets them in their pajamas with their teeth brushed and giggles ringing out from the hallway upstairs.

I forget sometimes that while my life looks very different today, so does his. He works hard and handles our finances in such a wise way so that I can stay home. Before us, he made money and had to worry about just him. And now he carries the burden of providing for three other people, single-handedly. {And it's amazing how much two 2-year-olds can eat. Plus a pregnant wife.} He graciously supports my decision to feed our family primarily organic, healthy food even though he could probably care less whether something has high fructose corn syrup or red dye in it or not. In fact, he's indulged a lot of my ideas that he probably thinks are hogwash--ahem, teething necklaces. 

When I married Paul, I knew he would be a good dad. I didn't realize that he would be a great dad. The kind who truly enjoy their children, who gladly help with dinner and bed time routines and the often unreasonable demands of a toddler who asks you to sing Jingle Bells no less than 18 times during one meal. He's the kind who puts the girls down in their cribs each night with a kiss and a prayer. And that's who they want to do it. Not mom. Pshh. 

He's the kind who will do the Sofia the First puzzle 6 times in a row. And when he walks in the door from a long day and a draining battle with traffic and hears a tiny voice saying, 'Daddy, sit. Help do the puzzle!' he doesn't even cringe or say, 'In a minute.' {Whereas, by that point, I'm ready to burn any and all Sofia puzzles.}

He's the kind who will happily wear a baby anywhere. Moby, Ergo, you name it...he'll do it.  

He's the kind who makes experiences like shopping for cousins' birthday presents and aquariums and pumpkin patches and swinging and sliding so much fun. Way more fun than I could ever dream to make it.  

He's the kind who brushes the girls' hair every night just before they go to bed. And the kind who keeps Lambie safe while he's playing pool with the guys. {And, oddly, doesn't question why his wife is taking a picture of his derriere.} The kind who patiently lets them play with his hair or help him button his shirt or 'tie' his shoes. And has even uttered the words, 'I think they need more bows.'

And when people say to me, 'Well, I hope this one is a boy!' I think how thankful I am that she is not. Because I already know what a great dad to girls this man is and I know she's the luckiest, most blessed baby girl to have him for her daddy. 

Happy Birthday, Paul Wendell. We love you so much more than we could ever say. {Also, a little disclaimer, I'm really glad I have a whole year to plan for your 30th because this post, your present, and dinner are really lame compared to what you did for me this year. But I love you just as much, I promise.}