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As I sit typing this I'm smelling burnt plastic still.  Yep, burned plastic.  I didn't realize that my sweet little 5 year old son, chef in the making, decided to put a tupperware plate in my bottom oven.  I'm fortunate to have dual wall ovens.  However, the top oven will not heat over 250-275 degrees.  The bottom oven now is scorched with plastic.

It all started Christmas Eve EVE day with the happy excitement of making Christmas cookies!  We were going to make Almond Cookies (Robin McGraw's from RR show!), chocolate chunkpeanut butter, and two pumpkin rolls.

I ran around all day paying those end of the month bills, getting last minute groceries, picking up my contacts that came in at the eye doctors, filling up the Expedition with gas (giving them my left arm to pay for it), and tidying up the house (still washing dishes by hand!), changing a belt on my Kirby Vaccuum, (unclogging the pokemon card, and the legos stuck up in the poor Kirby that broke that belt)....  ending all of this chaos with  a quick supper all in the anticipation of having enough time left in the day  to make Christmas cookies with my boys.  I'm determined to make memories!!!

They are all excited.  We get all the ingredients out.  We make the batter for the chocolate chunk peanut butter cookies.  Preheat the oven.  Smells kind of funny.  Don't think much of it.    I put the first batch of cookies on the cookie sheet and in they go.  Pretty quickly there is black smoke billowing out of the oven.  UGH, it is horrible.  Reminds me of a long time ago when I had a dishwasher and plastic utensils would fall through and get stuck in the bottom around that heating element thingy and it would melt and burn the utensil and my throat would burn and my nose and there was no escape. Yep, there's a memory I had come flooding back and smacking me in the face.  Now, I'm 2 for 2...no ovens that work correctly.

The cookie making memory was out. I wasn't even going to attempt those Almond cookies or the pumpkin rolls. 

Christmas Eve comes.  "Santa" decides we need candy for the stockings. So, we decide to make a last minute shopping stop at the only discount store in the city that was open after 6pm on Christmas Eve.  K-mart in the .....shall I say....."questionable" side of town.  That store was TRASHED.  I mean there were people everywhere just shoveling things aside and me included!  I learned how to make my hubby nervous when I said a smart comment to two pushy, rude ladies who had blocked my way several times...... they quickly responded.  He got a little nervous and shoveled me again right up to the checkout!  GEESH. What's his problem I'm thinking?  I thought he liked it when I stood up for myself and didn't let people "walk all over me"....He calmly reminded me once we were safely in the Expedition that this was a "different"  part of town than we were used to and some people carry little guns.  Hmmm, I hadn't thought of that. 

So, now at home, I shovel the boys to bed, and "Santa" gets the stockings stuffed (with the $170.46 worth of candy!) and hung in front of the fireplace.  Now, I have about a thousand presents to wrap. "Santa" sits on the couch (smacking on part of the $170.46 worth of candy that didn't fit into the stockings...duh.) and offers wisdom on how to accomplish the task until 2:30am! I about shoveled him outside! No Mommy Kissing Santa Claus here.

Why is it that it takes FOREVER to wrap presents and only a second for the little ones to unwrap them and destroy the house?   I had forgotton to thaw the turkey.  So, here's a tip:  You can throw a completely FROZEN bird in the oven!  Yep, it works.  Just a little difficult getting the packaging off, and no way to get the bird stuffed, you know, and no way to get those disgusting baggies with neck and giblets out.....but I had no choice.  I threw that bird in the oven, top oven, on 275-300 degrees (remember it won't go any higher) and cooked that turkey from 9am until about 6pm.  It was AWESOME!  I am not joking, it was better than the stupid bird I spent tons of time on brining and stuffing and basting for Thanksgiving!  Go figure.

We had our lovely little Norman Rockwell Christmas supper, turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, etc.  We started our lovely little Norman Rockwell fire in the fireplace.  I sit down to watch my Young and The Restless from the last couple of days.  (I can't stand David who is with Nikki, am I alone here?  ugh, he makes me want to throw up....)

The boys decide, and I am including the 38 year old boy, to roast marshmallows in the fireplace.  Normally, I would have burst this little fun bubble before the sticks got out, but I was thinking, "Hey, Norman Rockwell memories being made....what can it hurt?" 

LET ME TELL YOU WHAT IT CAN HURT!  Our oldest son, 13, decides to turn the fire down.  YES, people, I said, TURN THE FIRE DOWN.... Hmmm, does he live in the electronic age or what?  Turn a fire down???????  Like....what???????  It's burning wood....what is he thinking, it's NOT the TELEVISION, XBOX, OR COMPUTER????? He takes a flat head screw driver and TURNS the gas line used to start the fire...thinking he is "turning the fire down". IT BREAKS OFF INSIDE THE BRICK OF THE FIREPLACE.........and this huge GAS fire starts burning loud flames!  The 13 year old now freaks out, knowing he is in BIG trouble, the 5 year old screams, I scream, "Santa" comes running to help (and I do think I heard a little scream).  Oh, boy.  He is not a Jolly St. Nick.  Nope.  For the next panicky 30 minutes, "Santa" and 13 year old elf has to tear the back of the fireplace apart.  "Santa" has to work in the garage, shoveling various items stored against the specific wall he needed to tear apart to get in to find the shut off valve........weight benches, weights, 16 rubbermaid containers of baby clothes, extra carseats, lawnmower, air bubble, baby mattress, etc.  I was amazed, "Santa"  worked pretty fast, haven't seen him move that fast since 1994 when I went into labor with the same 13 year old. 

Boy Howdy.  There's a Christmas Memory in the making.  Norman Rockwell, try to draw that scene. 

Christmas day ended.  The boys sure enjoyed their gifts, I enjoyed watching them have a good time with them.  Sure, there were a few mishaps, but, it's Christmas.  The excitement in their eyes, the laughter, and the love shared made up for all the other.  Memories.  I remember the whole reason for Christmas.  Jesus Christ.  There's the most important memory of all.  I hope we never forget all of our memories, bad or good.  They are the stitches to our coat of life.

Merry Christmas