High Fructose Peace and Other Traditions

Y'all it's been snowing since Friday morning.

I'm hoping that maybe by starting a sentence with "y'all" instead of "you guys", I'll channel some southern warmth. Like maybe the Y'all Fairy will drop in and say "bless your heart" and sprinkle some fairy dust or something (anything) other than lake effect snow.

Most of the precipitation has been flurries, so we have only three or four inches on the ground. But still, I'm starting to feel like I live in a snow globe. Also, (and really, this is just a minor detail), I just saw a weather report predicting 10 to 20 inches of snow in the next 72 hours. Okay then. Y'all Fairy, if you're coming, you might want to make the trip before Sunday morning.

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Yesterday we went to get our Christmas tree. In the snow, of course. Which was wonderful and beautiful and very Norman Rockwell-ian.

But I'm going to confess that I spent at least one out of every five minutes fighting psychosis. To give you an example, my hands were freezing, and my camera was in batteries-almost-dead blurry mode, and Dani had a runny nose that needed wiping at the most inopportune times, and every tree we found that we loved wasn't tagged and therefore not purchasable. And I had to fight like mad the urge to audibly bemoan all those things. When really, would saying we had to hurry because Dani's gloves are soaked and her hands are freezing and her nose is running, would saying that really make us go any faster? Nope.

So I kept my mouth relatively shut, though a few master-of-the-obvious style complaints might have slipped out. When the kids asked to ride in the sled that was supposed to be for the tree, I almost said no just because I didn't want to deal with potentially sappy snow pants. I know, I know. Norman Rockwell would so not paint that. So I said no instead to my silly whiny self and to the classic scene of a harried mean old mother depriving her two bundled up and rosy cheeked children of a sled ride.

And I said yes to the sled ride.

So the part where I pulled them in the sled, where we raced back toward the tree as they giggled and squealed with every bump? That part was my favorite of the whole outing. Wouldn't you know it. The part I almost nixed.

We came home freezing and covered in snow, and the reality of no longer having a mud room hit in full force. I wanted to complain about that too. But I made hot chocolate instead, and doled out extra marshmallows for good measure.

I think marshmallows should be on the list of resources for world peace, the one I imagine the State Department keeps somewhere with all the other good ideas we never use. I don't really even like marshmallows that much. But when you put them in cocoa, it's like sprinkling little dollops of calm into everyone's cup. Like high fructose peace.

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This morning, the Elf on the Shelf made his return. When Grandma Laurie gave him to us last year, Caed named him Fredder. It was decided this morning he needed a middle name, thus, Fredder Buckeye has taken up residence on the mantle.

Caed is totally caught up in the "magic" of Fredder. Dani, not so much. When Caed squealed delightedly, "Oooh, there he is!", Dani nearly jumped onto her breakfast plate.

"He's not real, dough! He's not alive, right?" she asked.
"Oh, he's real all right, but don't worry, he won't fly around in front of you, Dani." Caed assured her.

She came running into the kitchen and reached for me. "Carry me!" she implored. I scooped her up and asked, "Where?"
"Everywhere!" she cried, glancing back at Fredder as though he might fly over and smack her in the forehead at any moment. "I don't like him!"

"Why don't you like Fredder?" I prodded.

"Because he plies in my room at night and lands on my my doll house while the doll pamily is s'eeping, and den he wakes me up and I say 'be quiet Fredder, I am trying to s'eep!' And he just plies and plies around!"

Ohhhhh, so that's why. I just figured you thought he was totally creepy looking and couldn't bear the thought that the dude's full time job was to watch you. (Seriously, hon, I would have totally understood that reasoning. Because Fredder? He's one creepy looking elf.)

The good news is, Dani warmed up to Fredder before her french toast was gone.
The bad news is, I still haven't.

But it's probably nothing a few marshmallows can't fix.