Never judge a gingerbread house by its cover

To the naked eye, this is the perfect gingerbread house. Cozy little cottage.



Woops! It's still under construction. Next time, we'll double the recipe. Looks cute from the front, though, right?

Getting in the Christmas spirit

Homeless Santa landed on Baby David's head. He thought it was a chimney. David didn't seem to mind.

The Christmas Mantle

The past three years, around this time, my mother-in-law and I have visited a certain neighborhood holly tree. We happen to bring along a small pair of shears. This year I drove. We pulled up to the aforementioned tree. She hopped out and quickly, but reverently, removed a few choice sprigs, then quickly returned to the car. We drove away.

The tree is on an island in the middle of a street in our neighborhood. It is lush with berries every year. Don't you agree a tree like that could use a little annual pruning?

And just so you know the full truth, the greenery that fills in much of the mantle is not from the holly tree. It's from our neighbor's huge pine tree across the street...

Anyone want to go to Confession with me this Saturday?

Thanksgiving in Cleveland

David and GG hit it off beautifully. They were introduced and he quickly proceeded to suck her fingers in a gesture of love.

Teresa got to blow out two candles on Lola's famous chocolate birthday cake.

David got cozy in Santa's arms on the Polar Express after spending the previous hour crying. He just needed a little one on one with the big guy.

"What would you like for Christmas little girl?"
Frankie was honored on this train ride with special attention from Santa for being so patient and good (one of Santa's elves stationed next to us reported this to him). He gave her his hat to wear.

A trip to a nearby farm park.

Only Teresa would sport a fur coat tilling the soil. We mustn't shed our glamor, even on the John Deere.

David, in good hands, on a brisk walk through the neighborhood.
Lolo and David sharing a moment.

On a separate note, we've all come down with colds. In an effort to spare my sore throat I've been whispering the past two days, and I must say the results have been somewhat inspiring. There's a calm in the house when I can't raise my voice, or talk for that matter. Frankie and Teresa whisper back when I whisper to them to be kind to each other, or that sorry, I can't read that book today. They've been playing creatively together all morning, seldom coming to me with questions and problems. Maybe I should write this up as an experiment in some child psychology book: "Whisper Therapy." And maybe I'll continue to whisper after the sore throat subsides.